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#and i put my head on her shoulder and what bliss that always is
ronsonlywhore · 7 days ago
Draco Malfoy and Exist For Love by Aurora
exist for love / d.m.
summary: you lay your head on his shoulder, and in that exact moment draco feels like he lives for nothing else except you. like he exists for nothing else except love.
pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of murder and poisoning, drinking
a/n: oh to slow dance to this song with a lover at 3 am...any volunteers? / this songfic was written for my mini 200 follower celebration!
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
in draco’s eyes, you were heavenly; the true definition of an angel gifted to earth from the gods above and, like all gifts, he cherished and treasured you like his life depended on it.
loving you was like flying: exhilarating and always leaving him breathless. draco had never felt like this before; his heart knew that he couldn’t. to him, love was something he could admire, something he could long for, but never something he could have for himself. it just wasn’t in a malfoy’s nature to openly devote yourself to someone the way he wanted to devote himself to you.
and he loathed his own name for it.
☾ ⋆*·゚:⋆*·゚:⠀ *⋆.*:·゚ .: ⋆*·゚: .⋆
your touch was electrifying.
your hands had only grazed his for a moment while passing him an empty cauldron, your fingers there then gone, but those few seconds were enough to have draco floating on a cloud for the rest of the day.
he would never be able to explain the way you made him feel.
☾ ⋆*·゚:⋆*·゚:⠀ *⋆.*:·゚ .: ⋆*·゚: .⋆
draco felt like he was going to be sick.
“are you okay, malfoy? you look a little pale,” you ask worriedly as draco considers making a run for it. next to you, your friend giggles and murmurs, “malfoy’s always pale, (y/n).”
draco hears a yelp of pain from your friend, you having elbowed her harshly in the ribs. he finally gets the courage to look you directly in the eyes, the same eyes he dreams about, the same eyes that put the entire galaxy to shame.
you’re looking expectantly at him, your friend poorly trying to hold in her laughter. the fact that she’s probably silently judging him sparked something in draco. what was he cowering from? he was a malfoy, and besides, the worst thing you could do was say no.
“iwaswonderingifyoueverwantedtostudyinthelibrarywithmesometime?” draco mumbles. his throat feels dry and he can feel his heart beating in the pits of his stomach; he’s having a hard time swallowing. tongue-tied...that’s another thing he can add to the list of things you cause him to be. not that he keeps one, or anything.
you tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to the red-orange glow of the sun. draco can’t help but let his eyes trail down your throat and over your collarbone, desperately trying to imagine what it would feel like to ghost his lips over your smooth skin, or breath in your sweet scent, the scent he’s smelled so many times before in his amortentia potion…
“malfoy? malfoy?”
draco breaks out of his trance, cheeks blazing as you say, “i’m sorry, er, i didn’t catch what you said about the library.”
“oh,” draco falters out. if he wanted to chicken out and never attempt to speak to you again, now would be the time to do it. no, he thinks. he promised himself he would go through with this.
he takes a deep breath and tries again, slower this time, “i just...i was wondering if you ever wanted to study with me in the library?”
“oh, are you looking for a tutor?”
your friend finally bursts out laughing, holding her charms book close to her chest in doing so. you ask her what she finds so funny, and she answers, “don’t you see, (y/n)? he’s asking you out.”
you look back to draco, eyebrows raised. “asking me on a date? to the library?”
draco quickly backs away, thinking about how horrible this idea was. why did he ever believe he had a chance with you, the living embodiment of pure bliss?
“never mind. it’s stupid, i know,” he mutters dejectedly as he walks off, planning to find a deep hole he can crawl into and never emerge from again.
he feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around, his eyes meeting yours once more; the same eyes that carry the universe all at once, the same eyes that the sun envies with all her might.
draco can hardly believe the words that come out of your mouth next.
“no! no, i think that sounds quite nice, actually,” you say as you pull back your hand. his skin burns at your touch, and aches when it’s gone.
“you do?” draco asks, surprised and not taking notice of your friend rolling her eyes behind you.
you nod and smile, continuing, “how about this thursday after lessons?
all draco does is nod, not finding the right words to say.
“great! it’s a date, then.” you walk back towards your friend, saying cheerfully, “see you around, draco.”
draco. you had said his name.
mesmerized: another thing he can add to the list. but he definitely doesn’t keep one, or anything.
☾ ⋆*·゚:⋆*·゚:⠀ *⋆.*:·゚ .: ⋆*·゚: .⋆
“remember when you asked me out?”
draco groans and throws a balled-up piece of parchment towards you. “please, don’t remind me.”
you laugh and try to dodge the flying paper as draco goes back to his essay, his quill scratching against the sheet. you sigh, resting your chin on your hand; draco fights the urge to look up and get hopelessly lost in the mere presence of you.
“you came up to me and said...what was it again?” you say as you scoot closer to him. he feels your lips brush over his cheek, your warm breath fanning his face.
draco turns to face you just as you lean in, but before you can give him a proper kiss, he playfully pushes your face away gently.
“i will never forgive you for assuming that i needed a tutor,” he sniffs dramatically.
you pounce on him, right there in the middle of the library, and draco doesn’t care if everyone is staring or whispering; he lets you pepper kisses all over his neck, anyways.
“i thought i would be forgiven by now,” you whisper into his ear as you prop your chin on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his jaw.
“your apology is still being considered,” draco breathes out before catching your mouth in an amorous kiss.
your kisses always took the air out of his lungs. or maybe that was his body telling him he needed to breathe, and stat.
you and draco eventually go back to your studying, but draco’s far from focused now. you have invaded his mind, taken over his thoughts, so that now all he can see and feel is you: a peaceful oblivion he wants to emerge himself in for eternity.
draco thinks back to a year ago, when he was just contented with your eyes lingering a second too long on him, pleased at just being able to sit next to you in potions. now, he has you; not just your persistent stares or your polite smile. you.
☾ ⋆*·゚:⋆*·゚:⠀ *⋆.*:·゚ .: ⋆*·゚: .⋆
draco swallows back a bit of bile as he loosens his tie harshly, his fingers getting caught in the intricate knot doing so. his footsteps echo in the empty corridor, and he wipes beads of sweat from his forehead, cursing himself for forgetting to meet you at the lake. now you’ll definitely know something’s up.
he walks through the great hall doors, the soft breeze doing nothing to calm his tension. he had only passed by the hospital wing, had only gotten a glimpse of weasley lying on the bed, unconscious and senseless, but that was enough to set his nerves on a frenzy. he did that. he poisoned weasley, even if it wasn’t directly, even if he didn’t mean to.
he had also cursed katie bell with that wretched necklace. a vexed pendant that wasn’t even meant for her, a bottle of venomous bottle of mead that wasn’t meant to be drank by anyone except him: professor dumbledore.
as draco trudges down to the lake, he finally comprehends how real all of this suddenly feels. he can’t kill dumbledore; he can’t kill anyone. he could barely bring himself to imperio bell, could barely handle gifting that bottle to slughorn. how could he ever be capable of murdering someone and watching them fall dead in front of him?
he tries to compose himself as he nears your silhouette sitting at the edge of the lake, your knees brought up to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs. draco comes to a stop behind you, berating you in his head for being this careless.
“what have i told you about sitting around like this, (y/n)?” draco asks as he plops down next to you, hoping you didn’t hear that small tremble in his voice. you jump as you turn to him, glaring as you say, “you’re late. and it’s not like death eaters are just going to sneak into hogwarts in the middle of the night and take over. hogwarts is the safest place on earth.”
draco’s stomach churns when he realizes that’s exactly what will happen in approximately a week from now, thanks to him fixing that bloody cabinet. remember, you’re doing this for your parents, draco thinks. for her.
“the stars are shining brightly tonight, are they not?” draco hears you whisper as you take his hand and start tracing patterns on his palm.
“i suppose,” he answers, his mind still on his impossible task.
“my mother used to say the stars shone for me,” you say, choosing to outline different constellations on his hand.
draco smiles slightly and turns to look at you. “that’s because they do.”
you lay your head on his shoulder, and in that exact moment draco feels like he exists for nothing else except you. nothing else except love.
☾ ⋆*·゚:⋆*·゚:⠀ *⋆.*:·゚ .: ⋆*·゚: .⋆
“father used to say love was nothing but an illusion, something that could fill your heart up but leave it miserably empty.”
“love is anything but, draco...it can be so many things and nothing all at once.”
draco’s back itches from the tree bark scratching at his back, but he stays in the same position and sips from the bottle of firewhiskey, anyways. it was his idea, after all.
he stares at you watching the whomping willow sway in the distance, your hand loosely grasping your own bottle. you had only taken a few gulps of the alcohol, but you looked drowsy and dazed already, the liquor quickly taking effect.
draco doesn’t know if it’s the quiet buzz resonating through his body that makes him do it, but he still asks, “please do tell of all the things love can be, (y/n).”
“long answer or short one?”
“both.”
you sigh contentedly as he watches you bring the bottle to your lips, observing the way your throat moves while swallowing the whiskey. you breathe in deep, then start, “love is like stumbling through life all alone, just passing through the motions, and then that one person walks into your life and suddenly you feel like you’re living, you’re alive…and i’ve heard it’s a very wonderful feeling.”
you pause, take another swig, and continue, “love is like being torn apart the minute you were only born, but that one person is the only one that makes you feel whole and complete...your other half, you could say.”
it finally clicks in draco’s head that you are his ‘one person.’
“love is selflessness, and loyalty, and euphoria. love is fearlessness, and spirit, and earnestness. love is the center of everything but also the center of nothing; we revolve around it but it also revolves around us.” you sigh, this time catching your breath.
draco can’t keep it from you anymore, not after what you told him everything that love could be, what love should be, what love will be.
“is love not keeping secrets?” he murmurs.
“yes, i suppose love is honesty, as well,” you answer back.
he responds to that by pulling back his sleeve and revealing his dark mark in its full, horrid glory. your eyes widen as you scramble back from him, your grasp on the bottle slipping and rolling away in the grass; draco’s heart drops as he realizes you’re scared of not only the mark embellished into his skin, but of him as well by default.
“what did you do?” you whisper, horrified.
“the dark lord was threatening my family...he was threatening to kill you, i had to!” draco’s voice breaks just a little bit; he prays to the gods that you’ll believe him, hopes you’ll see his reasons.
you don’t.
draco’s father was right; love can fill your heart, but only for a little while before leaving it miserably empty..
☾ ⋆*·゚:⋆*·゚:⠀ *⋆.*:·゚ .: ⋆*·゚: .⋆
draco’s mother is calling him over, and everyone turns to look at him with judging stares or pitiful expressions. even the dark lord is looking expectantly at him.
harry potter is dead. now everyone will have to choose their sides.
across the destroyed courtyard he can see his father glaring at him. he really doesn’t want to walk over there, doesn’t want to declare his loyalty to them, but what can he do? he has no one to live for on this side, no one to live for him.
he takes a deep breath and starts maneuvering the crowd, walking towards his parents. it feels more like walking into death’s open arms.
“draco.”
he stops, coming to a complete halt. he hasn’t heard his name being spoken in that soft tone in a while. he turns around and you’re there, reaching for him, and he can’t focus on anything except you. you say his name again, and it feels like white horses gliding over the waves or a rushing ocean in his veins.
“love is sacrifice, too,” you whisper.
draco doesn’t walk to his parents. he chooses to stay with you instead.
you, the one person who makes him feel alive and whole. you, the one person he exists for.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
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technowoah · 12 days ago
Can you do a Karl x fem!reader where Karl keeps giving her gifts(flowers, armor etc) and reader is just really oblivious? Ty
I thought I was being obvious
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THANKS FOR THE REQUEST! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. I made it romantic if you didn't mind.
C!Karl Jacobs x fem!reader
⚠︎ fluff, mentions of weapons, im switching between 3rd person and 1st person but its all the same person (the reader)
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It simply started with a chest full of flowers at her door step. When she opened the small chest every flower that she could imagine was inside, it was like someone picked every single one of those flowers from a huge field.
She had to try and bring those flowers back into the house so she decided in a moment of bliss to pick up the flowers from the box, instead of lifting the chest all together. Her arms were engulfed with tons of flowers tickling her nose while unkown to her a note was left on the grass beside the chest that held the flowers she is currently taking inside her house.
Dear my love,
I hope you enjoyed the flowers and I hope that you will accept this as an offer as a date, for us to be together for a small amount of time so that I can confess my feelings for you, but for now I hope that you can notice my advances. I would love to go on a date with you soon!
Love, Karl ♡︎
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1st person
The next day was like no other day with you going out to either mine, or help and hang out with friends close by. She had ran into Tommy earlier and walked around with him while letting him talk and yell her ears off until they both ended up separating both having other people to attend to. Tommy went with Ranboo, which was unusual, while she went to Karl who was wandering around his house.
"Karl!" You said while waving the man in the colorblock hoodie.
"Oh hey y/n! Whats up?" Karl waved as you made your way back over to Karl where he was standing in the grass.
"I just had a walk with Tommy until he went with Ranboo for some reason, but I wanted to talk to you-"
"Really?!" Karl's eyes widened until he regained his composure.
"Yeah I wanted to check up on you! Like we always do." Your voice was weary not knowing what Karl's intentions were at this moment.
He looked disappointed in some way and you didnt know why. It was sad and confusing not to know why he was feeling this way and the only thing you could do was ask.
"Karl are you okay? What's wrong you know you can talk to me about anything!" You put your hand on his shoulder in a reassuring way.
His gaze was focused on the ground until he turned his head toward the hand the was laying on his shoulder.
"Im fine! Im all good its okay." Karl sent a smile towards your way trying to keep up his spirits up.
"Alright. I'll believe you. So what do you want to do?" You asked still weary if the situation.
"There's this field of flowers we could hang out in."
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The next time it was a sword sheath with an enchanted netherite sword that glowed in the darkness that she revealed it it. Her mouth dropped while she put the sharp sword back into its sheath to protect her from getting cut.
She couldn't believe who would send this to her, but the gifts kept coming and she was no where close to knowing who it would be. There was a small note attached to the end of the sheath and she had picked it up and read the note that hung on a small string.
Dear Y/N,
I had made this from the leftover netherite in storage, I enchanted it and named it Toska, I love the meaning of that word and I hope one day I can tell the meaning to you. Thank you for always putting me friat in your mine and I hope you see me doing the same.
Love, Karl ♡︎
She finally she knew who was kind enough to send these gifts to her. She had placed the sword somewhere safe, so she could use it for combat, or even just keep the sword as a memorabilia from a friend. The sad thing was that she couldn't tell Karl's romantic advancments to her.
The next time this happened Karl had sent her an enchanted bow and arrow and netherite boots. She couldn't belive he remember that her original netherite boots broke. He had sent another note that went the same as the others, sending his love without blatantly saying that he loves her. He wanted to wait till they were face to face to say it, but at this point he thinks that they will stay just friends.
He could tell because if the gestures he would see from her, there was no revelation that he loved her for a while. She somehow didn't notice his advances and that made him want to give more until she finally noticed.
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1st person
"Karl! Thanks for the sword It's beautiful." You said as you saw Karl walking on the Prime Path doing who knows what.
"Oh of course! Did you see the note with it?" He asked you with hopeful eyes.
"I did! It was really sweet. What does Toska mean?"
"Oh yeah! It means a longing for a specific something, somone." Karl said.
"That's adorable!" You said while Karl waited for something else.
"That's it?" Karl asked kind of annoyed.
Your eyes frurrowed, "What do you mean?"
Karl shifted while the two of you still stood in the middle of the Prime Path, his gaze was glued to the ground.
"Karl please tell me what's going on! You've been acting like this everytime we are standing together. Please this is bothering me!" You pleaded for your friend to talk to you.
He looked up with another one of his smiles, again, he looked disappointed behind those gleaming eyes.
"I thought I was being obvious, but its okay! Lets do something, let's go see what Big Q is doing." Karl rushed through his words as he grabbed your hand leading you through the prime path, trying to get his mind off of anything, but how good the feeling of your hand felt in his.
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The next couple days you woke up to multiple peices if jewelry each day with small notes.
The first day after the bow and arrow was a necklace with a blue diamond with a note.
I LOVE YOU
-KJ
The day after that was a gold bracelet that you had feel in love with and ended up wearing everyday with another note attached.
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
-KJ
You hadn't seem Karl after that one day when he dragged you around the whole smp kingdom, and you were getting worried with all the gifts that he was working for. The fact that he spends time to find diamonds, enchant netherite, and find jewelry makes you worry for his sanity. Him spending this much time on you when you want it to be equal playing fields. You didn't want to feel like a queen, you just wanted to be loved.
You drew the line when in another chest there was a totem of undying.
Y/N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I WANTED TO SAY THIS TO YOUR FACE, BUT IT SEEMS LIKE ITS NOT CLICKING SOMEHOW. I REALLY WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND I DONT KNOW HOW ELSE TO SAY THIS. I will love you till your last breath, if you happen to use the totem of undying, well it speaks for itself.
-KJ
You had rushed over to Karl's house where he was sat on his stairs looking out into the distance and the sky. He looked ao pretty with the wind in his hair and his colorful hoodie he was wearing.
You had stomped over to him with the totem of undying glowing in your hand.
"KARL!" You had raised the totem in his face and he was taken aback because you had raised a glowing piece of gold too close to his face.
You continued your rant, "Karl I like gifts, but this is drawing the line! A totem of undying?! This is way too much. You could've told me you loved me straight up front without the gifts! I would've accepted, whatever you were going to do! I love you too and you know that! I love you as a friend and as lover, I would love to be your girlfriend." You calmed down as Karl's eyes progressively started to return to their normal size instead of widened.
Karl started to chuckle with a small smile on his face.
"I thought I was being obvious!" Karl laughed and you lightly chuckled as well.
You brought him onto his feet and brung him into a hug in which he reciprocated. You both stayed there for a while until he pulled back and gave you a small, shy peck on your lips juts testing the waters. You had done the same giving him a small peck in return, both of you widely smiling at eachother.
"Y/N will you be my girlfriend?" Karl asked.
"Yes I will, only if you take the totem back."
"Deal!"
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Authors Note//
After imagine thoughts: this was shorter than I thought- also have yall noticed I love Karl's eyes. Hope you liked it! 💜
Btw I didn't proofread, i usually dont, cause I wrote this during school hours..
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exmppersephone · 14 days ago
Text
Home | Persades
for the one and only @mphades​
Spring has come, and life’s just begun to thrive again in Persephone’s smile. The spell of winter gloom is so yesteryear the goddess doesn’t even know if it really happened, or it’s just her mood swing at its best. Back then in the Underworld, winters were still harsh, but usually not to the point where it could pose a real threat to her physical and mental health. It’s all alright now, because Hades and his love are still beside her, and their marriage could bring her nothing more than bliss and contentment. But the goddess knows there’s something still missing. 
She misses home. 
“I miss our home,” she confesses to Hades one peaceful afternoon, while they are lounging on her husband’s favorite couch, their fingers intertwined and her head resting on his shoulder. It feels like she’s spent a whole lifetime on Mount Phoenix, even though just a couple of years passed by since the first time she stepped on the land of this magical island. At Mount Phoenix, she found Hades, most of her divine family members, got to know and befriended quite many new faces. Then, just quite the same amount of individuals walked out of her life, she lost Hades, lost all of hopes, and almost lost herself. And guess what? Life’s found her once again, just to put everything back on her hands. 
“We’ve been away from the Underworld for quite a while, my dear, much longer than I’ve planned it to be.” A sigh almost escapes Persephone, but she doesn’t mean to be sad. Just homesick, that should be the right word for it. Looking into Hades’ eyes, she unknowingly squeezes his hand in her dainty fingers, as if she was afraid that he would reject what she’s about to suggest. “Should we go home, Hades? I need you, and our Cerberus, and our Underworld, all together again. We can always come back here whenever we want, and if you want to go alone, I would never stop or doubt your intention, I promise.”
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calpops · 24 days ago
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the first morning | c.h.
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The first morning Calum wakes in his new home with a person who inspires songs about the sun. The first morning of many tiny home adventures to come.
1k words
my masterlist | feedback and reblogs mean the world
Copyright © 2021 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).
☼ ☼ ☼
Calum wakes to beams of sunlight pouring in through the windows. Duke is curled into his side and the morning is quiet; only the chirping of birds and the lapping of water against the rocky shore to be heard. A small smile works its way onto Calum’s face as he takes in his surroundings. He finds comfort in his new home, the space is small but it’s cozy and has everything he needs. From natural light, to storage for his bass and journals. A bed big enough for two—and a Duke—with views that inspire poetry and lyrics. Art coming to life in front of his very eyes.
All he’s missing is her. Her side of the bed is cold, sheets rumpled and comfort long abandoned. He smirks, lifts himself from the warmth of the blankets and ruffles Duke’s ears in a good morning greeting. He knows where to find her. He drags himself from the bed and pads his way over to the ladder, the loft shining with sunlight from the high windows. She sits with crossed legs, his button up hanging off her frame, a concentrated look capturing her face. She bites her lip and narrows her eyes as her gaze stays steady on a canvas. Calum quietly climbs the ladder and gives her a smile when she turns to him.
“G’morning, sunshine. How did I know you’d be up here?” Calum asks with a laugh as he settles to sit behind her, arms winding around her and lips kissing her exposed shoulder.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she explains and tilts back so her head rests against his chest. “Sunrise was too pretty to ignore.”
Calum nods his understanding. The paintbrush in her hand creating an image he missed. Orange dances across the canvas and clashes with darkened waters not yet touched by the gleam of light.
“You should have woken me,” he says and nudges against her, taking in sweet scents of sugar and cinnamon. Paint coats her skin, art climbing her arms in patches of colors to her elbows.
“You were too pretty to disturb,” she defends and smirks. Her hands reach up and her fingers gently rake through Calum’s curls, the gesture familiar after years of practice. “There’s always sunset,” she reminds.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Calum promises, already envisioning a trip down to the lake with her hand in his and Duke trotting along after them. She turns back to the canvas and he rests his chin on the crook of her shoulder. “I’ve got songs to write about you and the sun.”
She lets out a breathy laugh and puts down another swipe of color. This time purple graces the orange and deepens the atmosphere of the piece.
“Yeah? And when the sun goes down?” she questions with a timid smile. “What will you write about then?”
Calum doesn’t hesitate to answer. “The stars… and you.”
He smirks as she giggles and shakes her head, tendrils of soft hair falling in her face with the motion.
“And will you keep this song?” she wonders and Calum shrugs. “The world deserves to hear your words from your voice.”
Calum bites his lip. His songwriting credits keep him in the shadows, keep his voice to a whisper and his audience to her and Duke. “My world is right here.”
She softens but Calum can see the determination still set in her eyes. She sighs and puts her paintbrush in a glass of water so she can fully turn to be in his embrace. She kisses his lips in a whisper of affection. He revels in her taste and wishes she would linger a little longer. But she sighs and pulls away again.
“Your world wants to see the mountains next,” she says with a pointed gaze out the window.
Calum drums his fingers on her bare thighs and gives her a tilted smile. Her voice is soft and filled with wanderlust as she explains her desire. Eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones and she inches closer to Calum, the captivating scent of cinnamon nearing him with ease. Calum’s smile broadens as a realization strikes him. They can go anywhere in the world together and still be right at home; with or without the bus sheltering them.
“Perfect, we can leave tomorrow morning. Head west. You can paint, I can write…”
Calum loses his words, any thoughts of planning abandoned as she setttles in closer to him, wraps her arms around his neck and gives him what he was longing for. Another kiss. Another taste of sweetness that puts a yearning for adventure but a fulfilled feeling in his heart.
A small whine sounds from down the ladder and bliss breaks apart in an attempt to find the source. Neither truly has to question it. They both know Duke has finally made his way from bed and is requesting their presence.
“And Duke can explore,” she finishes Calum’s thought and breaks away to descend the ladder to comfort the old dog. Her feet hit the ground in a delicate way and Calum follows shortly after, her arms holding Duke and his quickly finding their way to holding her.
“Little man’s gotta learn how to climb the ladder,” Calum jokes.
She shakes her head in slight laughter. “We’ll just get him a little basket and pull him up whenever he wants,” she proposes and instills an image in Calum’s mind. “Then everything will be perfect.”
“Our perfect little world, in our perfect tiny home, with our perfect little dog,” Calum teases her though he’s apt to believe his own words.
His girl and her art, his dog and his basket, his music and his bass are all he needs in his new tiny home. In his life and in his world.
☼ ☼ ☼
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salt-warrior · 24 days ago
Text
WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES
Masterlist
Chapter Fifteen: Christmas and Conspiracies
"What's even the point of tinsel?" Iko asked, biting off the head of a frosted gingerbread-man.
Cinder sprinkled thin strands of silver tinsel along the branches of the miniature tree from the chair she was seated in. There was a single string of white lights climbing through the green, earthy smelling branches, and only a few bulbous ornaments.
Christmas had always been Cinder's favorite holiday. For one, it was sisters with her birthday, and it was also the only good memory she had of her mother; decorating the Christmas tree had been the only thing they'd ever done together, and Cinder had always gotten to sleep under the tree with all of its beautiful lights.
"I think it makes it look like it's snowing." Cinder reminisced. When she had been a child, her mother had told her stories of how magical Christmas elves had cast a snowing spell on the tree just for an extra Christmas surprise. Cinder hadn't known that her mother was the Christmas elf, or that tinsel could be bought a dollar per pack.
Iko snorted, and Cinder glared at her. Over the past couple days the girls had become well acquainted with one another. Iko had grown up with her paternal grandmother in Boston. Her mother had left when she was only two, and her father died of Lymphoma a year later. Iko had no memories of either of them, except for her grandmother forcing her into a black dress for her father's memorial service.
When Iko turned nineteen, her grandmother died. She was not a wealthy woman, having no education past high school and only ever working at a grocery market, but she left Iko with enough money to pay college tuition. Iko got a degree in nursing, and worked in Boston until she followed her boyfriend to Hayden. When the guy cheated on her with a pretty blonde french girl, she dumped him, but stayed in Colorado.
"What?" Cinder challenged.
"It's just..." Iko smiled wistfully. "You come off as this tough I-can-take-care-of-myself kind of woman, but then you say stuff like that and you're an innocent little girl."
This time it was Cinder's turn to laugh. "Iko, you're only three years older than me, and I'm not a little kid."
"I know that," Iko asserted confidently. "It just makes me sad to think that someone like you had to live with... the people you did." Iko smiled morosely. Cinder stared at her with wide eyes, and her heart seemed to crinkle like foil. "Do you want some hot cocoa?" Iko asked, changing the subject before Cinder could sink deeper into self-pity mode. Cinder nodded amiably.
Iko stood and skipped to the kitchen. She continued to talk to Cinder, prattling on about how her Grandmother had taught her the proper way to make cocoa, but Cinder wasn't listening. Her mind had slipped to the boy with the dazzling copper eyes of fire, black messy hair, and the gray sweatshirt with his scent that Cinder kept on wearing.
Cinder had tried to hate Kai, but she couldn't. She had thought of every reason why she should: him nosing through her business, him calling her by that cursed name, his bringing Cress back and putting all of them in danger. No matter what she thought, she still couldn't hate the boy who cared only for her well-being.
She knew that she couldn't stay with Iko forever, and would, at some point, have to face Kai. It pained her to think of their next meeting and the hurtful words she would have to scourge him with in order to keep him away; because he had to stay away. Cinder wouldn't let him become another casualty of her existence.
"Here you go," Iko sang, placing a steaming cup of liquid chocolate in Cinder's hands. It only made her think of Kai and his partial chocolate scent.
"Thanks, Iko," Cinder smiled.
"What are you thinking about?" Iko asked, sipping from her large green mug. Iko was fervent about the color green; she said it went with every holiday and was always festive. That was perhaps why Iko's small apartment was accented with green in the most fashionable way possible.
Cinder shrugged, taking a swig from her own mug— it was a darker shade of green, more evergreen— and her whole body seemed to tingle with pleasure. She clutched the warm mug tightly against her chest, reveling in the pure bliss of a warm cup of cocoa. "Nothing."
"Oh, really? I didn't know Kai changed his name." Iko smirked.
A blush spread across Cinder's cheeks, and she buried her face in her mug. Iko laughed, seeming to get more confirmation to her statement than anything Cinder could have said.
"Are you really still mad at him?" Iko inquired. "Because personally, I think he is way too hot to stay mad at."
"I think he's more cute than hot," Cinder diverted, her cheeks coloring to Santa's favorite shade of red.
"Aww," Iko teased, twisting her shoulder upward and grinning. "But really, when are you gonna talk to the guy. He's probably at home, baking Santa cookies and praying that you're under his tree tomorrow morning. You gotta talk to the guy."
Cinder drained the last of her cocoa with a smack of her lips. The back of her tongue was coated in sticky sugar, but it was all worth it. "He's not obsessed with me, Iko," Cinder said. "And he most definitely won't want me under his tree; pine needles give me an allergic reaction."
Iko laughed at this, just as a knock sounded from Iko's door. Cinder froze, her first thought going to Kai. Iko, seeming to read the terror off of Cinder's face put her at ease. "Don't worry. My friend Scarlet is just coming by to drop some things off from the hospital. You remember her, right? She was one of your nurses."
"Oh, yeah. I like her," Cinder said absentmindedly, her shoulder still tense and eyes on the door. Cinder did in fact like Scarlet, though in a different way than Iko. Scarlet didn't talk much, but was always seemed to know exactly what Cinder needed.
Another knock sounded at the door, more urgent than the first. "Geez, take a chill, Scar. A lady may take her time to answer the door." Iko yelled, though only more pounding came from her statement.
Iko unlatched the door, and it swung open before she could even touch the knob. "What the–"
"Sorry, Iko," Kai winced, his knuckles were red and split. He had great dark circles coloring under his eyes like bruises. His hair was messier than usual, and his clothes were rumpled. Cinder felt her heart twinge with worry for him before remembering her pact to hate him.
Behind Kai trailed a jovial Thorne— who threw a wink at Cinder and a flirtatious smile at Iko— and a small, scared looking Cress. Cinder froze with terror.
"Hey!" Iko yelled, trying in vain to shove the onslaught out the door. "Get the–"
"Iko," Kai pleaded. "Please, I have to speak with her; it's urgent."
"I told you no then, and I'm telling you no now!" Iko spat, standing protectively between Cinder and Kai.
Kai tried to peer at Cinder, but she was staring at the ground. "I have to–"
"First you call me a thousand times, and now you break into my house," Iko blazed. "She doesn't want to talk to any of you. Especially if you brought her," Iko sneered, glaring pointedly at Cress. "So get out, before I make you get out."
"Sheesh, you have a lot of fire, hot nurse," Thorne whistled. "Do you maybe want to go out sometime?"
Iko and Kai both turned to glare at Thorne, who respectively put his hands up in surrender. "I'll take that as a I'll-think-about-it."
"Get out–" Iko fumed.
"Please!" Kai begged, his eyes glittering and huge.
"No. I'm done with you hurting Cinder. She doesn't deserve it, so stop. Get out before I make–"
"I'll talk with him," Cinder interjected, surprised at the words that came out next. "And Cress."
"But what about–" Thorne whined.
Cinder cut him off before the words could escape him. "I have this deep yearning to strangle someone today, and I bet you like your eyes inside your skull, am I right?"
Thorne pouted. "I'll wait outside."
Iko glanced at Cinder, a question in her eyes. Cinder could tell that she wanted to stay and help, but this was something that Cinder needed to do on her own. Cinder shook her head.
"I'll wait outside, too," Iko said, obviously trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
The two outcasts left out the door, both of them looking rather unhappy to be left out of the fun. When the door clicked shut behind them, Cinder spun on Kai and Cress, her eyes blazing and her heart heavy. "Why on earth–" Cinder practically yelled at Cress, "–would you come back?"
***
Kai flinched at Cinder's words— no, the tone of her words. She said them with venom and hate and hurt. Cress had hurt Cinder—bad—but Kai knew that they could work it out. He hoped, at least.
Over the past couple of days, Kai had tried to find Cinder. He tried the hospital, though they had no clue where Cinder was. He tried Iko, but she told him nothing. It wasn't until Kai had spoken with nurse Benoit that he had discovered Cinder's location.
Kai had called and texted and practically cornered Iko at the hospital, but she had been firm; if Cinder didn't want to see Kai, she didn't have to. But Kai had to.
Cress had revealed nothing more to Cinder's past than her words after the failed surprise party. She had told Kai and Thorne that it was Cinder's business and that she was done betraying Cinder. Kai admired the loyalty, but he was dying to understand what Cinder's deal was.
"I have to explain myself." Cress squeaked. "I need you to know why I did what I did and how I've regretted it ever since."
Cinder scoffed, but didn't interrupt. She wasn't looking at either of them, but burning identical fiery holes into the carpet. She remained seated in her chair, and tinsel decorated her hair and arms. Kai itched to pick it out for her, but restrained himself.
"I promise, Selene, I am not here to hurt you anymore," Cress cried. She had hardly slept in the past three days. She had stayed at Kai and Thorne's apartment in the guest room, though she tended to spend the nights pacing the house and finding unusual places to read.
"It's Cinder," Cinder said crossly. She continued to stare at the floor.
"Cinder," Cress amended. "Remember when we were in high school and you told me about your mom?" Cress asked.
"Yes," Cinder tiffed. "And I also remembered how you betrayed me and told the whole school how I killed Peony."
Cress took a step towards Cinder, her hands trembling. "I know," she whispered, "and it has been the greatest regret of my life."
Cinder looked up, shock in her eyes. "What?"
"I-I messed up." Cress said. "I researched, just like you asked me to. We tried everything, read every book, and none of it made sense. None of it worked."
Kai glanced between the two girls, confusion and curiosity burning within. He wasn't understanding a word of their conversation; everything was too vague.
"I started to think that Ran was maybe just a freak accident. The letter was weird, but I mean, it would totally make sense if the shock of the event had made you hallucinate. But after Peony..." Cress swallowed hard. She was now kneeling in front of Cinder, the two girls at eye-level. "I thought that you had created Her. I thought that you had killed Peony."
Cinder's jaw dropped. "I didn't do it! I told you Cress, I couldn't have created a–”
"I know!" Cress held her small hand up to silence Cinder. "I realized that after you left. You didn't see Her die, so..."
"I couldn't have created Her." Cinder finished.
Cress looked at her old friend, and understanding seemed to pass through them like an electric current. "But I know how to stop Her. I figured it all out. I-I'm sorry that it took me so long to find you, but I thought you wouldn't want to see me. I–"
"You know how to destroy Her?" Cinder exclaimed. "Cress, how?"
"Do you still have Her bracelet?" Cress asked. She had an illumination to her face, and her eyes were alight with relief.
"Yes, I do," Cinder confirmed.
An image of a small braided bracelet shot through Kai's mind. He remembered the letter and the picture as well. The girls were prattling through a list of things that they would need, but Kai's brain was completely lost. He didn't understand a word of their ambiguous conversation.
"–we'll need to go to the place where it originally happened and summon Her. That's the only way we'll be able to stop Her; to confront Her." Cress said.
"Wait, wait, wait, hold up," Kai took a step forward, and both girls tilted their eyes up to look at him. Bewilderment painted their faces, as though they had forgotten that he was there. "What are you guys talking about? What are we trying to summon? What is going on?"
Cress looked at Cinder, and the two exchanged a glance. "Do you want me to tell him, or..." Cress asked. Cinder stared at Kai, and it was only then that he noticed she was still wearing his grey sweatshirt.
"Kai," Cinder murmured, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Do you believe in ghosts?"
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screamholland · 24 days ago
Text
all for her [3]
Tumblr media
pairing: dad!bartender!tom x female!reader
warnings: cursing, lots of angst
summary: a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter. is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?
word count: 8.7k! 
a/n: another month has passed but! finally here’s part 3!!! sorry for the delay but i was caught in between this rut & midterms so it took a while for any big ideas to spark. but i’m so happy that so many of y’all have enjoyed this story. i want to say again that this is my favorite fic series i’ve ever written so thank you so so much for appreciating it! i may end with 5 parts, but i won’t leave y’all hanging!
— masterlist ☆彡
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
A week had passed since the gruesome bar fight and Tom was still left with a dark bruise surrounding his right eye along with another on the side of his chin and the start of his jaw. Luckily, there were no broken bones or dislocated limbs, but it was made known that he had a concussion after you forced him to go to the emergency room and get properly looked at by a doctor. As stubborn as he was, Tom tried listening to the careful instructions given for the follow-up appointments that would come, but everything went in one ear and out the other.
“We want to make sure each part of the brain that was impacted is still intact, so we want you to see this specialist and they’ll run a few cognitive tests to make sure everything is okay.” The doctor explained in simple terms as he scribbled the information on his prescription pad and ripped it off.
You nodded, taking the paper from him, “How much is all this?”
“It’s not too costly, but insurance should cover most of it.” He reassured, glancing at you before looking back at Tom’s chart, “I recommend a lot of rest and time away from work for at least two to three days.”
Tom quickly looked over, “I can’t take off work right now. I really can’t afford to do that right now.”
“Mr. Holland, we want to make sure that there’s no way you could injure yourself even more than now. You need to take a few rest days in order to relax and stay away from anything strenuous.”
“I’m a bartender, I think I can-”
“Tom... relax, please.” You retorted at him, your jaw slightly clenched.
Tom stared out the window with his side against the wall, feeling like he was miles away even though he was just across the room. You peered over at him a few times throughout the appointment, but you knew he didn’t want to be here. One of the strings of his black hoodie curled around his pointer finger, pulling on the coil before letting it spring back, repeating it a few times as the doctor continued informing to you.
He’d been fixated on the results of the DNA test. It was rooted in his mind from how many times he read over it, convincing himself it wasn’t true and it was a huge mistake. Doubt consumed his thoughts, wondering how he could have been so stupid to fall for the entire ruse even though Tom never regretted one moment of raising Summer. He loved her so much and would do anything to have her back, but finding out the truth made it harder for him to figure out if he should still be fighting for her.
Throughout the nights, he tossed and turned enough to wake you up, feeling his pull on the sheets. Sometimes you’d hold him from behind, curling your arms and locking them to make him feel safe. You pressed your cheek against his back, the eerily sound of his heartbeat against your ear as it quickly thudded. His thumb brushed over the top of your hand, remembering that you were still there, but when he closed his eyes, every thought crawled its way back in and cluttered his mind enough to make him want to burst into an angry fit.
After a few minutes, the doctor left you two to gather your things. Tom ran his hand over his hair as he started to walk to the door, but you blocked him from taking another step. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and your eyebrows furrowed, Tom knew that look was never good.
“Talk to me… C’mon, what’s going on? What’s on your mind?” You softly asked, still looking into his eyes.
Tom ran his hands down his face, a light groan leaving his lips from the frustration slowly building inside his entire body.
“I don’t want to talk about it now, Y/N. Please. I’m fucking embarrassed enough.” He huffed.
“Then when are you gonna talk about it?” You retorted, your eyebrows furrowed from concern, “You can’t keep the weight of the world on your shoulders forever.”
He shrugged, “I’m not Summer’s dad. That’s it! It was all fucking nothing. It doesn’t matter-”
“It’s always mattered, Tom!” You whisper-shouted, not wanting to make a scene with everyone passing by even though the door was closed, “What Maggie did to you was fucked up, but you raised that girl to be who she is now and that’s what matters.”
Tom gulped, his tired eyes beginning to water as he kept eye contact with you. His bottom lip quivered, but he quickly wiped his tears with his hoodie sleeve. The dryness in his throat hurt and even closing his bruised eye was painful to do, making him curse under his breath every time. He clenched his jaw tight as he rubbed the back of his neck, but you placed your hands on each side of his delicate face. 
It was hard to see him in this state where nothing mattered to him and there was a greyness that clouded over the great and wonderful person he truly was. It wasn’t the Tom you grew up with, not even close, so to see this side of him for the first time astonished you, and you weren’t sure what else it would take to see his old self other than getting Summer back.
He ran his hand over his soft curls, “Can we just go home?”
“Yeah, but remember we have a call with a lawyer tomorrow morning. He thinks you could get a good settlement deal since the guy who beat you up had prior arrests.” You reminded him, pecking his cheek then rubbing your thumb over the bruised skin under his eye.
Tom nodded, “You know we can’t afford this guy.”
“We’ll make it work.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist with his around your neck.
He licked his lips, “Y/N, I’m not gonna make you pay for it.”
“Who said you were making me? I know you want her back as much as I do.” You sniffled, gently holding his face so he could look into your sincere eyes and saw the way they gleamed.
Neither of you wanted to surrender and it never crossed your minds to give up on Summer, but it was getting harder when you felt like Tom was a ticking time bomb and it could only take Maggie’s choice of words to pick at the one nerve no one else could reach to make him completely snap.
Your noses brushed together with your foreheads lightly pressed, both of you reminding yourselves that you had one another. Tom placed his hand on your cheek before leaning in, feeling how soft and light your lips were against his and tasting your minty chapstick. As your eyes tightly closed, you shared a slow kiss with your arms still loosely wrapped around his neck. It was a blissful kiss, one you hadn’t shared in a while, but it was comforting in moments like this where you were terrified of what was to come. 
When Tom pulled away, he planted a faint kiss on the center of your forehead, “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more.” You mumbled as you looked into his beautiful, russet eyes, “C’mon. Let’s go home and put some ice on that eye again, maybe take a nap after.” You hinted.
He half-smiled, “That sounds nice.”
You quickly furrowed your eyebrows, pouted your bottom lip, “Hmm, and maybe take a shower, you look like hell.” You joked, raking your fingers through the front of his messy curls to the crown of his head.
Tom rolled his eyes and smirked, “You know you used to be nicer to me, like when we were kids.”
“Well that’s before I fell for you, I can’t get too soft… plus, I think it balances your ego.” You smiled, pressing your lips against his while the two of you giggled within another kiss.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
Later that afternoon, you and Tom were napping on the couch with the TV on low volume. The birds chirped by the window and traffic was below the terrace, the sudden honks echoing between the buildings. You were laying between Tom’s legs, the fluffy blanket over your whole body. With your arms loose around Tom’s torso, you slumbered with your head comfortably against his chest. Tom wanted to go some sleep, blinking his dry eyes every few seconds to keep himself awake, trying to distract himself with his phone.
Light snores left your lips, your face hiding in his neck as you unconsciously curled up more. Tom stretched his neck a bit, making sure you were okay before running his hand over your hair. If he could lose Summer, Tom worried that you could slip away just as easily. He never realized how protective he was, hoping it wouldn’t push you away from his own faults and insecurities; he didn’t want to be left alone.
Tom kissed the top of your hair, nuzzling his face against the top of your head. Throughout this, you were his rock, an anchor to hold him down when things got to be too much and he couldn’t believe how supportive you were with how confused he was. You held him when he cried and you listened to him when he needed to vent. It was things you’d done before, but you both felt emotionally closer like another wall had fallen and there was nothing you couldn’t tell each other.
He slowly raked his fingers through the crown of your head to the end of your back, over and over as you peacefully napped before his phone vibrated against the coffee table. You stirred in your sleep, turning your head away and loosely wrapping your arm under Tom’s neck. As his vision cleared from his sleepy daze, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at the contact name.
“Hey, baby, I have to take this,” Tom said in a low tone, not wanting to completely wake you up.
You nodded, your eyes still closed, but Tom slowly got on his feet. After he placed the blanket over you, Tom went out to his bedroom so you could have some quiet.
“Hey, dad.” He answered.
“Hey, Tommy.”
His father always had the same monotone voice, like a poker face that he had to figure out since he was born.
“What’s going on? Is Sheryl okay?” Tom replied, sitting down on the bed.
Ever since his dad got remarried a few years ago, Tom and his father’s relationship slowly parted over time. With work, school, and a kid, Tom didn’t have time to take the backhanded compliments and concerned parenting skills that his new stepmom persistently gave to him on any family occasion. They used to have dinners together every Saturday night when Tom could get away from the city and school, but each one got worse. The last straw was around this time last year, it was Thanksgiving dinner and the blowout was something Tom tried to forget every other week. He couldn’t even bring it all up to you which was hard to keep since it’s been biting at his nerves for the last year.
As Summer got older, Tom didn’t want her to think she was “some kind of mistake” as Sheryl would put it. So for the sake of her, he told himself that his family wasn’t going to cost his daughter’s happiness and he never returned a call back until now. She asked about her grandparents around birthdays or holidays throughout the year, but it was getting harder for Tom to avoid the question when she wouldn’t give up sometimes.
Even though Tom’s mom was usually out of the country, she made sure to send presents, pictures and call every other weekend to make sure he and Summer were okay, but Tom would never admit to her if something was wrong. His mom was never there, not for him growing up and rarely now, but he knew she was trying to make up for it holiday after holiday.
“Uh, she’s well. We’re fine. I just wanted to call you and ask what’s going on… How’s Summer?” His dad genuinely asked.
Tom chuckled, “Why do you ask?”
His father hesitated for a second with his answer, “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Your mom called me and said that she hadn’t heard from you either. So, we’re just worried about you…”
“Yeah… yeah.” Tom raised his eyebrows as he rolled his eyes.
He heard his father sigh, “I know things weren’t the best the last time I saw you-”
“Some woman I barely know tells me that I can’t raise my daughter? That she was a mistake? No, dad. I should be visiting even more after that.” Tom retorted, grinning to mask how the anger was building up inside him slowly but surely.
“She’s your stepmom.”
“Not to me.”
Tom’s dad didn’t fight back his bitter attitude, “Tom, I just want to talk to you. It’s just you and me.”
“Dad, I’m really… not in the mood.” 
“Let’s get lunch… or dinner, maybe? Just the two of us.” His dad suggested, almost pleading.
There was silence between the conversation as Tom thought for a few seconds. As damaged as his bond was with his dad, he didn’t want to push him away. It would be what Maggie was doing to him, and to feel the separation from a child hurt like hell.
Tom sniffled, “Fine, yeah. Sure.”
“Great. Well, what about dinner tonight? Where do you want to meet?”
“Um, we can meet at the bar I work at… before my shift starts. Six o’clock.” Tom trailed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
Tom quickly hung up before he could burst into tears. In the back of his mind, he thought there was an ultimatum behind the real reason he wanted to talk, not thinking it was just some catching up. But, the stress of the past month had made Tom into a walking mess. Maybe this would bring back some old times, like when he was a kid in a baseball cap and his dad brought him to baseball games and carnivals when his mom was on business trips.
“Fucking Christ,” Tom said under his breath, running his hands through his hair. He blinked away the tears at the waterlines of his tired eyes, wiping them with his t-shirt before getting up.
It was still hard to pass Summer’s room and see it still untouched and empty. Tom kept it neat and clean, hoping it motivated his hope to have her back home. Sometimes he’d sit on her bed and think about the little life the three of you had together. She probably missed her stuffed animals she had tea parties with or the t-shirts she couldn’t fit in her bag. Maggie refused to let him over anymore, not after the last time they saw each other and how frustrated he got. It was hard to think that Tom was holding out for nothing, and Summer could never be in his life again.
He leaned against the doorframe, staring at the bunny sitting on her bed. It was the bunny you and Tom spent hours looking for sometimes, one day realizing that Summer started to do it on purpose. She would hide it in the last place you could think of and it became a race of who could find Mr. Fluffycakes first. She finally admitted one day that she thought it was a game that you and Tom liked to play, so she would try to find the perfect place to almost camouflage the soft, grey bunny.
Tom held it in his hands, bring it up to his face, and smelling the familiar, lavender-vanilla detergent. He sighed, glaring at the small paintings taped with scotch tape to her wall by the dollhouse in the corner of her room. It was Summer’s favorite Christmas present she had ever gotten, Tom’s mom hoping she’d like it after getting it from London. She traveled a lot, always sending things in the mail to Summer, but rarely making appearances with how much she did work. Tom hoped that would change from when he was a kid, but now he understood how his parents ended up separating.
“You okay, babe?” You grinned, leaning on the doorframe and glaring at Tom sat on Summer’s book nook.
“Yeah, just miss her.” He half-smiled, biting his bottom lip after and tossing her bunny on the bed.
You walked over, sitting next to Tom and wrapping your arm around his shoulder before kissing his temple trailing to the apple of his cheek then lightly pressing your nose against his cheek.
“I bet she misses you a lot too.” You replied. “Have you heard from Maggie? Any chance of… seeing her? Maybe a short visit.” You asked, pulling your head away to turn to him.
He nodded, “We haven’t talked. I don’t want Summer to see me like this anyways.” Tom said low, lightly touching his bruised eye.
“C’mon, you look noble and tough. She’ll think you’re more of a hero than you already are.” You joked, trying to get a smile out of him.
“Hmm, I wish I felt like that.” Tom sighed.
Trying to figure out the gears working in Tom’s head was always a mystery. You watched his brown eyes shift back and forth as he was leaned over, his elbows against the top of his knees. Another long sigh passed his lips and you could tell something else was really bothering him, not needing him to say it.
“What’s wrong, baby? C’mon, you have that furrow in your brow.” You tilted your head.
He bit the inside of his cheek, his pride fighting his urge to just open his mouth, but he had a soft spot for you like no one else could. The instant Tom looked into your eyes, he felt the comfort he knew he needed.
“My dad called me, just now.”
“Oh… Is that good or bad?” You asked.
He cracked his knuckles, shrugging, “Both, kind of...”
You didn’t know much about Tom and his dad’s relationship other than Tom hating his stepmom, in light terms than he used. But, he wanted Summer to keep in contact with them for as long as he could. So many years had passed since you last saw his dad, so it didn’t feel right to butt in when you knew the bare minimum, but last Thanksgiving was unforgivable in Tom’s book so you stood by his side on what he felt.
“We’re gonna meet for dinner tonight… at the bar. I want to take a shift tonight.” Tom added.
You sighed, “Tom, you can’t work. We have to go to the doctor soon.”
“Just tonight. I promise. I… I need to do something with myself.” He groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing the top of his head before looking back into your eyes.
“Okay… I understand. But, just tonight.” You agreed and rubbed his arm, pressing your cheek against his shoulder.
Tom sat up, straightening his back and you pulled your face away from his shoulder to look him in the eye. Your faces were close together, a few inches away before he asked, “Can you come with me? ‘Cause, I don’t think I can do it alone.” He admitted then bit the inside of his cheek.
You tried to hide your smile, happy that he was opening up a bit at a time.
“Of course, babe. I’ll go with you for however long you need me.” You said as you trailed your hand to his, intertwining your fingers together and giving him a quick squeeze. Tom’s smile slowly painted on his tired face, bringing the top of your hand to his lips.
“Thank you. Really, thank you. You don’t know how grateful I am for you.”
“Well, I have all day.” You jeered and it made him smile again, wrapping his arms around you to scatter kisses on your cheek and neck.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The bar wasn’t busy during the late afternoon, before the fleet of college students and single women came through for the nightlife. But it was a relaxed spot when the sun was still out. A few husky men sat at the bar, eating chips and drinking pints to watch the various games on the flat screens or truckers stopping by for a nice meal and taking a smoke outside. It wasn’t the most formal place to meet up, but Tom had work in two hours so it was more convenient than worrisome to impress his dad.
You and Tom sat at a table for four, sitting next to one another and your arm linked around his. He was dressed in his work attire which was a dark-blue button-down paired with a white t-shirt with his name tag on the right side of his chest, solid black jeans that were a bit baggy on him, and his raggedy converse with the laces looped around the ankle once. He kept checking his watch every few minutes while he tapped his right foot against the floor and it began to make you a bit antsy.
“Baby, you need to relax.” You reminded him, lightly pressing your hand down on his thigh.
“I am. I’m just mentally preparing for what he’s gonna say to me.” He sighed as he sat up in his chair.
“Like what?”
“Oh, you really want me to go through the entire list?” Tom sarcastically joked, a half-smile on his lips.
You humored him with a giggle, but nodded your head, “You’re overthinking it. It’ll be okay and I’m right here next to you.”
Tom leaned in, giving you a light kiss that made your stomach fill with butterflies. You never knew how tender he could be when he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who enjoyed PDA. But, he became putty when he was around you by this point that it was hard not to want to kiss you when you comforted him.
He quickly looked down at his watch again, “He’s almost an hour late. He probably bailed.”
“Don’t say that. He’s gonna come, maybe, he’s just in weekend traffic.” You tried to keep his head up.
Tom rubbed the back of his neck, but he couldn’t help but slowly feeling the creeping feeling of abandonment on his shoulders. He wanted to give his dad a chance, he really did, but this was reminding him of how he was never the most reliable. It twisted Tom’s trust issues in every person he met and having to be forced to sit there, wondering and waiting, was eating Tom alive.
Another half-hour passed and Tom decided to clock in early. He didn’t feel like having to sit there for another hour, only to be asked and told exactly what he expected to hear. You told him that you’d sit at the end of the bar, staying with him until he specifically asked you to go home, but really you wanted to hang around to make sure Tom didn’t get into another bar fight that ended up with him having more than a concussion.
Some college students fled in and asked for a round of beers while others waited for their favorite cocktails. There was enough staff tonight that Tom didn’t feel overwhelmed like last few times, sometimes having to clock in on days he didn’t work because someone called in sick. The new guys were nice, most of them young and needing something to do during graduate school or trying to make rent.
As Tom wiped down the bar when a group of girls left, his manager, Teddy, called his name from behind. He quickly looked over his shoulder and tossed the rag in the bucket underneath the bar, walking over to Teddy who never failed to not have a clipboard in his hands. He never took off his wedding ring at work like some of the other servers and bartenders and even so, he gushed about his wife, Anna, when he could. Even though he sounded like a broken record some days, Tom admired how Teddy flaunted his stable, almost 20-year relationship.
“Glad to see you back, Tommy!” Teddy grinned at him, putting his hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. I feel better, I just have to go to a few doctor’s appointments, if that’s okay with you.” Tom asked in the moment, crossing his arms.
“Of course! Of course. For how long you’ve been working here, I don’t think you’ve ever taken a sick day or called in last minute.”
“It’s just been two years, Teddy. You make me sound old.” Tom joked, cracking a smile.
“Yeah, but I still appreciate you. You’re a valuable asset.”
Tom didn’t want to take the compliment, but he still nodded and grinned.
“Hey, have you heard anything from that guy’s lawyers? Are they giving you any compensation?” Teddy curiously asked as he wrote with his signature, blue pen on the paper of the clipboard.
“My girlfriend and I found a lawyer, but I don’t know if he’s good enough to make sure I get the money I’m supposed to get. We’re working it out.” Tom reassured him as he glared at his feet.
Teddy smiled at Tom, big and sincere, “Well, as long as you have that support, you’ll be prepared for anything that comes your way. I’m sure your daughter will too.”
Tom nodded, “Yeah… She’s a great kid.”
He still hadn’t told anyone at work what had happened with Summer, seeing it was no one’s business other than everyone knowing he got hired because he was a single dad trying to provide for his daughter, at least who he thought was his daughter.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.” Teddy acknowledged before walking to the kitchen through the doors.
Tom bit his bottom lip before sealing his lips, looking out at the crowd coming in. Out of habit, he checked his watch again, but quickly turned away to not keep holding out with his dad to come. When Tom’s gaze landed on you, his eyes softened a bit at the natural glow you had. You were talking to a girl who you knew in college, both of you still sat at the end of the bar and you smiled and laughed with her.
As he walked over to where you were, your eyes went to him and your friend looked over her shoulder.
“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” She grinned, flashing Tom a friendly smile before she walked back over to her table of friends.
Tom’s eyes followed her then turned his focus to you, leaning on the bar, “Who was that?”
“She was in a few of my classes in college. Good friend. She thought that I had a pretty cute boyfriend too. Apparently, his black eye makes him look very brawny.” You teased, bringing your class of water to your lips as you watched him chuckle.
“Is he here tonight? I’d love to meet him finally.” Tom joked back.
The brightness was back in his brown eyes, a glimmer of hazel under the warm light. You hadn’t seen that gleam in a long time and it was a good sign and as much as you couldn’t know what was going through his mind, you just wanted more moments like this. Both of you away from the apartment where you weren’t secluded to walls that had too many memories built within them.
You leaned on the bar, your nose brushing against Tom’s before you shared a sweet, short kiss. You giggled against your lips as he did too, but you pulled back when you heard someone say his name from behind.
Tom’s dad stood there, his hair was a salt-and-pepper shade and a few lines along his face. The shoulders of his cargo jacket were wet from the downpour outside, a few raindrops dripping down his forehead and nose.
“Hey, Dad…” Tom sighed.
You turned to Tom, “Go, it’ll be okay, baby.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” Tom said before giving you another kiss then walked around the bar to meet with his dad in the middle of the floor.
“Do you wanna sit?” His dad asked him, gesturing his hand to the table next to them.
“Yeah, I just have a few minutes,” Tom said, pulling out the chair.
His dad furrowed his eyebrows, “What happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of. It’s not important.” Tom deflected as he lightly touched his eye, not thinking his bruise was that noticeable in the dim lighting of the table.
“I think it’s important.” His dad chuckled, leaning on the table to get a closer look, “C’mon, who was it?”
Tom nodded his head, “That’s not why you’re here to talk, Dad.” He said lowly, crossing his arms.
“Well, I wanted to catch up. How are you? How’s Summer?” His dad tried to carry the conversation in a more positive manner, hoping he could connect with Tom without it becoming an argument.
“Um, Summer’s fine. She’s in kindergarten this year.” Tom replied.
“Wow! Kindergarten already? It’s like yesterday you were that age. You would always wear that damn baseball hat everyday… your mom would throw a fit and she tried to hide it from you all the time, but you managed to always find it. Ah, she just loved when your hair grew out.” His dad chuckled, leaning back in his chair and he glanced over at you.
“Yeah… She’s getting older.”
“You have a picture?” His dad quickly asked.
Tom pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery until he found a picture from a few weeks ago at her birthday party. It was when Summer was blowing out her candles, her knees pressed into the chair cushion and her one hand pushing her up on the table while the casted one was by her side as she tried to reach the top of the cake.
“She broke her arm? Geez, what’s going on in your lives?” His dad smiled at the picture before Tom took his phone back.
“Her and Y/N went ice skating and she fell and… it was a whole thing, but she’s okay now.”
His dad grinned, “Is that Y/N over there?” He nodded his head in your direction.
Tom looked over his shoulder at you, still sat at the bar and you were talking with one of the bartenders. You crossed your leg over the other as you carried the conversation with a glowing smile painted on your lips, gesturing with your one hand while the other cupped your drink. The red and yellow lights strobed against your face, highlighting it past all the people passing by to get drinks or dance on the other side of the room. You felt Tom’s eyes glued to you, making you stare back at him and give him a playful wink.
“Yeah. We’re... dating now.” Tom admitted, glancing down at the table and drawing slow circles with his index finger on the polished wood.
Tom’s dad smiled, “Yeah well, you always had a crush on her. Glad to know you guys are still close. She was always a nice kid and… from what you told me, she was good with Summer.”
Every time Summer’s name was brought up, it struck Tom’s nerve and it made his face heat up. The more he talked about her, the more upset he got about what was going on complied with the other things going on in his life. Tom clenched his jaw, not able to reply and his dad could see he was upset. Even though Tom was growing older and he was his own man, his father could always tell when something was wrong. As much as Tom didn’t think anyone could figure him out, his dad could read him like the back of his hand.
“Is something else going on? Other than me just showing up?” His dad tilted his head to try to look at Tom.
As Tom’s pride fought his ego, he didn’t want to feel like he was suddenly giving into his father now that he was sitting in front of him. The idea of talking to his dad made him upset and brought back cruel memories, but now that he was venting and talking about things he thought he would be angry about, this seemed like a better time than any other to explain what was really going on.
Tom picked at his nail, trying to find the first words to say to how he felt without it feeling like a corny, emotional sitcom moment.
His face heated up, “I… I sort of found out that I’m… not Summer’s biological father.” Tom pinned his lips, tears developing by the corners of his eyes saying it out loud.
Tom’s father was shocked, not showing it on his face, but he gulped, “Are you sure?”
“A hundred percent. I took a DNA test at the doctor’s and… it sort of just… Well, I trust it enough to take it one time. The girl who’s her mom took her away, probably just for the child support, but I can’t figure out what to do… It’s been a month without her and I can’t sleep anymore, Dad. I raised her and I never doubted she was my daughter until now.” Tom choked up, a dryness in his throat making it hard to take a deep breath. He ran his hand over the top of his hair, weaving his fingers through the fluffy brown curls and pushing it away from his forehead.
His dad took a few seconds to contain his thoughts, wanting to truly think before he spoke and knew how much Summer meant to Tom.
“And on top of that, this asshole threw a punch at me at the bar last week and that’s how I got this.” Tom gestured to his eye, “And now I’m trying to get a settlement, but I don’t think I can afford the lawyer, and… everything is falling apart.” Tom trailed, finally looking right into his dad’s eyes who’s were similar to his.
Tom lowered his head, trying to hold his tears back at the sudden release of everything on his mind.
“I know you raised that little girl so well and I’ve always admired you for that.” His dad started.
Tom ran his hands down his face, sniffling as the whites of his eyes turned a light red. He couldn’t look at him as his father started to talk, worrying it was going to be a backhanded compliment and it was the wrong decision to do this.
“But, it’s gonna be hard to get her back if she’s not yours… but, if you find out more about how the mother feels about Summer and the whole situation, I can get in contact with a good lawyer or steer you in the direction of one.” His dad offered, but Tom nodded his head in response.
“Dad, I can’t do that.”
“I’m your father and I’m not gonna leave you hanging like this… I know you love Summer and you raised her. I’m not gonna let you drown yourself in a settlement on top of that, okay?”
“I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of this-”
“You’re not, I know that! You’re a grown adult who’s just needing some help and that’s fine.” His dad emphasized, understanding how hard-headed his own son could be.
Tom nodded, “I want it to be a loan. I can pay you back for however long it takes.”
“No, no. Let me help you out… as your dad. I’m not a bank, I’m not… anyone else. I’m your father and I know that if you were taken away from like Summer was to you, I’d want everything to be as smooth as possible.” His dad explained, trying to show how much he truly cared about his son despite the cold, bitter tension between them for the past year and a half.
The two of them sat there with the noise of the people’s conversations around to fill the silence, but Tom came to his decision and he nodded, “Okay. It’s a deal.”
They didn’t even shake hands, let alone hug, but the thankfulness was implied. Tom’s dad grinned at his son, the one who was just a little kid he wishes he truly gave the world to instead of sitting here thinking he had a lot to make up for. 
“Other than all of that, have things been good otherwise?” His dad asked, glancing up at him.
Tom chuckled, “Just this and not much else. It’s been pretty boring without Summer around. But, Y/N has made it better.”
“Is she a keeper?” His dad grinned.
“She’s more than that. She’s really great and I could… see her in my life forever.”
His dad smiled, “I remember when she broke her arm and you just went on and on about dropping her homework at her house. I had to… call the school and get the parent contact information and then you were all jittery and nervous in the car. Even gelled your hair that day.” He recalled, smiling at the memory.
Tom blushed, “I wasn’t that nervous.”
“She really is a sweet girl. I’m happy for you.” His dad appreciated him, nice to see a smile finally on his face.
“Thanks, Dad.” Tom’s smile curled up, patches on red painting his cheeks at the thought of you even if you were sitting a few feet away.
“Well, it looks busy here so, maybe we can reschedule for an actual dinner. One that I don’t have to tip you for.” His dad jokes as they both stand up from their seats.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Definitely.” Tom nodded, running his sweaty palms down the front of his pants.
“It was really nice to see you. Don’t be a stranger.” His dad stood in front of him, staring at the mature and put-together man his son had become in the blink of an eye. It was a bittersweet feeling that maybe their time apart was leading up to this moment.
“I won’t.” Tom grinned, leaning in and wrapping his one arm around his dad.
His dad linked his arm around him as well, his hand meeting Tom’s back and giving it a few rubs before they pulled apart.
“I’ll keep in touch with you about the lawyer.”
“Thanks again.” Tom nodded.
You glanced over your shoulder, watching them go their own ways and his dad gave a quick wave to you. When your eyes shifted to Tom, he had a glow on his face, wanting to hide his smile by sealing his lips. You couldn’t help but grin, swiveling the barstool around to face him and you reached out for his hand.
“How did it go?” You simply asked, placing your hand on top of your knee.
Tom nodded, “It was fine, we can talk about it more when I get home.”
“No, tell me now.” You giggled, not wanting to put a damper on his news.
He half-smiled, “Just know that everything is going in the right direction. My dad said he’d help me a little bit with the settlement stuff and that way I can focus on Summer and what we’re gonna do.”
You ran your thumb over the top of his hand, “I’m really proud of you, you know that?”
“It was nothing-”
“It was something.” You retorted with a sweet smile, giving a light squeeze to his hand, “C’mhere.”
You placed your hand on his cheek, pulling him in to press a soft kiss on his lips. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t easy, but he didn’t want to take pride in something that seemed silly after it had happened. Luckily, he had you to remind him that he was taking the steps he needed to get Summer back. It was the first time you could see the light inside him even if he didn’t want to show it. Just from the difference in his smile, there was that gleam of hope.
As you pulled away, you sealed your lips and grinned at him. Your nose scrunched up as you both giggled, suddenly overwhelmed by the happiness filling yours and Tom’s hearts. You brushed your nose against his, your foreheads pressing together before he gave you another light kiss.
“Okay, I gotta work. You should go home, get some rest.”
“Well, I kind of wanna stay. It’s nice here and you’re just someone cute to look at.” You tilted your head.
“Why don’t you order something, on me, relax for a while and I’ll try to get off work early. Maybe, we can pick up ice cream on the way home to celebrate.” 
“Celebrate? Must have been really great news that I can’t wait to hear in detail.” You jeered and he planted a light kiss on your forehead before rounding behind the bar. He grabbed his rag, shoving it in his back pocket and you turned around toward him.
“What would you like to drink tonight, ma’am?” Tom said jokingly, placing a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of you.
Your lips to the side, “A rum and coke and make it dirty, Mr. Barkeep.”
He chuckled as he pulled a glass off the bottom shelf, beginning to make your drink in swift moves. He looked so natural behind the bar as he poured the bottles in intricate ways, finishing off the beverage with two cherries.
“Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled followed by a wink.
“Nothing I can say in public.” You teased before taking a sip of your drink.
Tom smirked at you before moving down the bar, tending to other customers with a natural smile on his lips. You tilted your head with your drink in your hand, almost in awe of him and how handsome he was.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The night was getting louder while the crowd was growing, some people passing by bumping your shoulder even though you were still sat at the bar. You saw a few friends and struck up conversations with them to catch up, not completely bored while Tom was working, but you were worried about him. You hoped that he wouldn’t oddly hurt himself, having to take him to the ER and give him a good “I told you so” talk on the way there.
As you worked on your second drink, your phone vibrated in your purse and the screen lit up. You furrowed your eyebrow at the unknown number but still decided to take it in case it was important. You asked your friend to save your seat as you took your purse, moving through the crowd to get outside. The rain was pouring still, but you stood underneath the awning of the bar as people ran under it, drying themselves off before entering.
“Hello? This is Y/N.”
“Y/N? It’s Summer.” She whimpered, her voice at a whisper.
She stole Maggie’s phone that she left on the charger in her room, sneaking it away and using the emergency numbers written on the tag of her backpack. Tom didn’t answer first, making her worried so she decided to call you and hoped to hear your voice she missed so much.
Your heart dropped, “Summer? Are you okay?”
“No, the lady is mean. She makes me go to bed early with no bedtime stories like Daddy said she would. She-she’s not fun and she leaves me with a strange lady next door.” She sniffled, curled up behind her bedroom door.
“Wh-What strange lady?”
“She’s old and mean too. I don’t wanna be here anymore. I wanna be with you and daddy.” Summer continued to cry at a low volume, muffling her whimpers to not let Maggie hear in the next door.
You felt your heart breaking, not sure what to say since she wasn’t your kid but, in a way, she was. You pinched your nose bridge and the heavy rain making it hard to have a clear mind.
“Um, um, have you talked to your dad? Are you safe?” You asked, frantic as her.
“N-no, Daddy didn’t answer. Please come pick me up. I hate it here.” She wept, her voice shakey as she begged.
You nodded, not able to take it anymore, “You wait there, we’re gonna come to get you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The time was almost midnight, but a loud knock echoed against Maggie’s door. She groaned, getting herself out of bed and thinking it was a drunk at the wrong apartment or someone playing a prank. As she approached the door, Maggie put her hair into a bun to clear her vision when she approached the door in the dark. After flicking on the light switch for the warm light above her, she opened the door and saw Tom dripping wet.
“Tom?... It’s almost midnight. I told you not to come here again.”
Tom sighed, “Y/N got a call from Summer and she was upset.”
Maggie rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe she took my phone. Jesus, what did you teach her? Because she’s been acting out in school, whenever I’m at work, I can’t take her anywhere!” She complained, her arm slapping against her side as the other held the door open.
“I didn’t teach her that. You’re the one who doesn’t know her and I know you’re not treating her right.”
“Oh, how do you know?”
“You leave her with some strange woman when you’re not here?”
“It’s my mother, Tom. I work, I have an actual job, okay? Not some side gig at a crappy bar where I can live on my tips.” She retorted, but it made Tom’s anger quickly grow.
Tom ran his hand through his wet hair, almost defeated by how defensive she was.
“Why are you doing this? She’s upset and she wants to see me.”
“Well, Summer is just a kid, she’ll get over it. Not getting her way is a part of life, Tom. God! You babied her so much that she just comes crying to you.” Maggie hissed at him, ready to slam the door in his face.
“She is a baby! She’s a kid, Maggie. She called Y/N because she can’t stand you. Do you think that’s good for her? Being here?” Tom yelled back, his jaw clenched and his face heating up.
“You know, I’m getting really sick of you saying what Y/N thinks is good for Summer like she’s her stepmother or something.”
“And where were you being mom of the year? Huh? Why do you have such a problem with her, Maggie? She’s the one who helped me throughout raising Summer, not you because you were never here!”
Maggie crossed her arms, her only defense since she didn’t have any words.
“Where were you when she took her first steps? Her first words? When she got her first A in kindergarten? Did you take her to the hospital when you thought she had a peanut allergy or when she fell ice skating? Who was there for her, Maggie?!” Tom persisted, his eyes filling with tears at how angry he felt.
Maggie couldn’t look Tom in the eyes because it was all true, she knew it this whole time, but hearing it out loud made her even feel a bit guilty.
“So, why do you suddenly want her now? Is it money? Or do you really want her to be in your life? I can arrange it any way you want if you really do what her back in your life, but I don’t think it’s fair that you just swoop up and take her away when she’s my kid too. A kid that I raised since you left her on my doorstep six years ago.”
Maggie chuckled out of spite, “You’d never get it.”
“Then tell me! Tell me so I understand. It’s just us right now. Y/N isn’t here and all I want is Summer back home so, what is the reason, Maggie?” Tom asked, his voice a bit more calm, but still frustrated that he hadn’t gotten a straight answer the entire time they had been standing there, “I know there’s a reason why you didn’t tell me all these years that she wasn’t mine. You know it and I know it… I just want you to be honest with me. Okay?” Tom retorted.
She sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. As she rubbed her hands down her face, her breath was shaky as the truth was trying to inch out of your mouth.
“I… Summer’s dad and I were dating and I told him about her and he was… upset. Like, he thought I was just a bad mom and he said he’d leave me if I didn’t just take care of her.” She huffed, shrugging at how stupid it sounded coming out.
Tom was baffled, but he let her explain herself without interrupting.
“H-He left to Vegas or San Diego or wherever. He left me again and now I just… I wanted to prove myself!” She whined, gritting her teeth as a tear trailed down her cheek, “But, she hates me and I don’t blame her, but I know I’m not a mom. I never… wanted a kid, okay? I just… I wanted him back.”
All Tom thought was that she was selfish. He could yell and scream all he wanted, taking Summer away from her in the next few seconds, but nevertheless, he controlled his breathing and tried to hear her out.
“Anything else?” He asked looking down at his feet, his arms crossed and feeling a chill from the AC.
Her eyes were teary, but she nodded, “Don’t hate me, please. Please.” She begged at a whisper.
“I don’t… Just, do the right thing now and let her come back home.” Tom sighed, his voice broken as well.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
Your body felt on fire from how anxious you felt, your foot tapping against the floor of Tom’s car. You waited, thinking your heart was going to burst in your chest if you had to wait any longer. A few minutes went by, concentrating on the time on the radio, but the heavy rain made the car windows look like stained glass. You hated biting at your nails, but you couldn’t help it after hearing Summer’s scared voice.
You curled up in the passenger seat, pulling on the seatbelt. You couldn’t just sit there anymore and do nothing, but stare at the dashboard and listen to the rain hitting the windshield. Your eyes began to tear up, wiping them quickly with the sleeves of your shirt, but you turned your head when you heard the back door open.
Tom was soaked from head to toe by this point, but Summer was curled around him before he set her on the seats. She had her backpack on, her hair damp and she was in her matching pajamas. Rain dripped off her noise and she wiped her wet forehead with the back of her hand.
“You get buckled in, just buckle in, okay?” Tom told her, still standing in the rain as he gave her the buckle of the seatbelt.
She nodded, guiding it across her body and pushing it in the lock until she heard the click.
“There you go.” He nodded, shutting the door and walking around the front of the car.
You sealed your lips as tears ran down your cheeks, tasting how salty your tears were. When Tom sat down, practically throwing himself into the car, your eyes met and you smiled at him. There was a sense of relief back in your lives at this moment, possibly a perfect one. As you glanced over your shoulder, Summer’s head was against the door and her eyes were heavy, but you reached your hand back to meet hers, holding it so tight that you never could think to let go again.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
tags/taglist: @felicityparkers @dhtomholland @duskholland @sinisterspidey​@itstaskeen​ @tomhollandsgirlfriend​ @bi-writes​ @infinite-imagination​ @honeyspidey​ @hollandcrush​ @sunsetholland​ @pparkersbitch​ @namoreno​ @calltothewild​ @spideyspeaches​ @veryholland​ @osterfieldshollandgirl​ @slutforsebstan @bi-lmg​ @sunshinepeterparkr​ @annathesillyfriend​ @madmadmilk​ @antigoneidk​ @hollandcreep​ @wierdflowerpower​  
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girlmeetsliv3 · 25 days ago
Text
Sandman VII
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Hyung Line X Reader
Genre: Mystery, Psychological Thriller, Horror
Rated: M
Word Count: 2K
Release Date: March 26, 2021 @ 4:30 p.m. (GMT-5)
“Three years ago, the town was rocked by the disappearance of YN YLN. A bright young girl who had dreams of attending university and becoming a nurse. YN was a kind, shy, studious girl who kept to herself and never caused any troubles associated with teens her age. So imagine her loved ones surprised when she disappears one night from bed - never to be seen again. The strangest part was that all her belongings had been taken, all the photos with her disappeared, and all her social medias deleted. But perhaps most peculiar was the wet sand found at the foot of her bed.”
Song: Hunter as a Horse - The Passenger
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Summer 2018
           “I really don’t know how to thank you.” YN smiled sheepishly once she had exited the bathroom feeling cleansed and secure. Hoseok shrugged her off, “No need to thank me.” Her hair was soaked leaving a wet patch around her shoulders which drew Hoseok’s attention. “You should dry your hair or else you’ll get sick.” His hand reached forward, grasping a strand and twirling it absentmindedly. YN felt blood rush towards her cheeks, “The blow-dryer will wake everyone up.” She knew it wasn’t healthy, but she was used to sleeping with wet hair, she’d never gotten sick before. Minsuh did it all the time too. Hoseok didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer though, “I can towel dry it for you. I even know how to do it so that your hair doesn’t frizz up.”
           That was how the two of them ended up in the living room, YN sitting on the floor whilst Hoseok sat in the couch above her. A movie was playing, but the sound was far to low for either to hear what was going on, she wasn’t too interested in the movie either. Distracted by the sensation of Hoseok tenderly drying her hair: his hands combing out knots gently, scrunching up the towel, and his nail beds massaging her scalp. This is nice. She heard a chuckle, “Is it?” YN’s eyes widened not realizing she’d spoken her thoughts. “Sorry I didn’t mean to make it awkward.” Embarrassment filling her to the brim.
           “Nonsense it isn’t awkward,” his hands continued their motions once her hair was sufficiently dry Hoseok placed the towel to the side of them. Yet his hands went to YN’s shoulders. She leaned back against him, resting her head against his knees. She wondered why he was being so polite, then figured it was likely due to what happened in the car. Maybe he felt bad about making the sister fight? The longer the massage continued the more blissed out YN became until she could feel her eyelids begin to weigh and body slacken.
           “Tired?” Hoseok whispered into her ear.
           “Mhm,” her head lulled, “I don’t even know why honestly. I slept in the car.”
           “Maybe you haven’t been sleeping well. Need the sandman to come and fix you to sleep.” His tone was teasing, but YN frowned.
           “Doesn’t the sandman only bring nightmares?” She twisted her head to face him, momentarily blinded by his beauty. Even in the darkness of the room, the only light source coming from the moving pictures on the screen, all of Hoseok’s features were illuminated brilliantly. His high nose, rounded eyes, strong cheekbones, and plump lips. YN always knew he was attractive, the flirt of the group, but she saw him in a new light.
           “Only to those who deserve them.” Hoseok leaned forward and gently blew on YN’s face, tickling her eyelashes causing a smile to spread across her features. “There now you’ll have beautiful dreams.” They were incredibly close now, faces only centimeters apart, perhaps neither noticed. Perhaps neither cared. but when the clock the hung in the corner wall ‘dinged’ loudly Hoseok closed the distance between them pressing his lips on hers. YN didn’t get a chance to respond for it was more of a peck than anything, but when they parted, she could see the lust swimming in Hoseok’s hooded eyes. The same lust that caused her to clench her abdomen.
           “Happy Birthday YN.”
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           When YN skipped towards the kitchen the next morning she was enveloped into a large hug. “There’s the birthday girl.” YN tended to forget how deceiving lean Namjoon was, more of a talker than a fighter, but wrapped in his arms she could feel his strength. “Joon don’t squish the poor girl to death.” Seokjin scolded but once Namjoon released her, he too wrapped his arms around her. Placing a quick peck on her cheek, “Happy Birthday! I made your favorite.” He gestured towards the ingredients in the saucer. “Thanks Jinnie.” Even Yoongi seemed to be in a pleasant mood for he ruffled YN’s hair whilst smiling at her. There were people missing however, “Where’s Minsuh?” Where’s Hoseok? The image of last night re-played in her head whilst she’d slept. She had in fact had pleasant dreams as he’d said.
           “She’s hungover had too much to drink last night and then took her sleeping pills, so she probably won’t be joining us until much later.” Seokjin said it so casually as if it was behavior typical of Minsuh. But YN didn’t remember seeing her pack her medication the day before. She didn’t drink much last night either. Her thoughts were interrupted when Hoseok entered the room, freshly showered with his hair wet. He greeted everyone casually before heading straight towards YN and kissing her. “Happy Birthday.” His left eye dropping into a cheeky wink before he moved away from her.
           The kitchen fell into absolute silence as YN herself was left reeling. Though she had hoped that last night wasn’t a mere one-off she also didn’t think Hoseok would so blatantly flaunt. At least not before they’d gotten the chance to talk about it. Her eyes dragged up to meet Yoongi’s who was glaring at her, jaw locked, with his mouth tilted downward. The tension in the room heightened as the seconds ticked on by only broken when the doorbell rang.
           “I’ll get it,” Namjoon spoke heading towards the door, as he passed by YN his hand reached towards hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
           With that it appeared the spell had been broken since conversation picked up like nothing had happened. Minutes later Namjoon came in carrying boxes of beer and a small brown bag which he handed off to Yoongi; who quickly put it inside his hoodie.
           “I’m making the eggs sunny-side up so I don’t want to hear any complains.” Seokjin spoke lightheartedly to which a series of groans and whines followed.
             “Min?” YN knocked on the bedroom door, expecting to hear a groan or her sister’s snores as a response. When she heard silence she grew concerned, she twisted the handle only to find it locked. Weird. Minsuh never locked the door, it was a habit she’d developed after YN would pound on her locked door in the middle of the night when she was younger. Terrified of the darkness and shadows present in her room once the sun went down. Running towards their parent’s room hadn’t really been an option considering they were rarely there – even when they were the two could sleep through the end of the world. “Minsuh?” once again no response. The door had likely been locked by Seokjin in an attempt to offer her sister some privacy, but even he should know better.
           She looked at the doors hinges before standing on her toes, reaching to unscrew the top causing the door to drop slightly and open, despite still being locked. Now inside she could see the empty bed and hear the shower running, likely why Minsuh hadn’t heard her. Yet something peculiar caught her eye, there were three cases unpacked and on the floor near the closet. One blue, a grey duffle bag, and a metallic black one. There should’ve only been two: the blue being Seokin’s and the bag being Minsuh’s. Suddenly YN heard a high-pitched moan come out of the bathroom which had her running out of the room and slamming the door. She ran straight outside only to crash straight into a wall of muscle.
           “Woah there,” Seokjin held YN as she stumbled back, “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
           YN glanced up at him, his caring smile crinkling his eyes and felt a strong sense of pity for the man. “Yeah I’m okay. Just looking for Yoongi I need to borrow his phone charger.”
           “He should be in his room; said he was going to shower since he was sweaty.” There was such innocence in Seokjin’s response. He doesn’t know. Couldn’t he? Surely, he would have noticed the suit case in his room, but in that moment YN didn’t connect the dots too blinded with sympathy and simmering rage. Why Minsuh? Why? Why did she always have to ruin every good thing that came into their lives?
           “You sure you’re okay, doll?”
           “Yeah, peachy.”
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           They spent the rest of the afternoon swimming the lake, though for YN, it was more like being passed around from one of the guys to the other. “You know you’d think at eighteen one would know how to swim.” Hoseok joked, as he tightened his hold around her legs. They stayed towards the shore were the water only reached YN’s neck, but the men had been adamant she be carried to make sure she ‘didn’t slip and drown’ because they ‘didn’t trust Namjoon’s CPR certification.’ Which had made the latter very pouty as he insisted, he actually passed, rebutted by Yoongi’s ‘because daddy paid for it.’ It was all in good fun and they all seemed to be extra jovial in an attempt to keep YN smiling. Minsuh hadn’t come down from the room despite it being late afternoon. It was unlikely she would at all. Not having her sister there with her on a special day had likely led to YN’s sour mood – that was what the boys believed, and she wasn’t keen on letting them know the truth.  
           “My parents couldn’t afford the lessons.” She had also been terrified of the ocean when she was younger, that had been the only body of water she could practice in. “Kim Taehyung was supposed to teach me, but Minsuh and him broke up before I could get my first lesson.”
           Hoseok rolled his eyes, “You should feel thankful you didn’t have to hang around him.” Everyone nodded in agreement, sharing knowing glances between them.
           “He wasn’t bad,” YN replied, she knew the break up between Minsuh and Taehyung had been messy, but lacked the specifics.
           “Kim Taehyung is a weirdo. Always has been.” Namjoon grimaced, staring off into the distance recalling their last encounter.
           Yoongi laughed, “He’s a pathetic lovestruck puppy. When Seokjin and Minsuh got together, he threatened Seokjin.”
           “Really?” YN’s eyes widened as she turned to face Seokjin, who was nursing a beer in his hand, he shrugged nonchalantly at the comment. “He showed up at my house demanding I leave Minsuh alone before I corrupted her innocent soul.” The guys laughed, even YN couldn’t help but chuckle. “He was obsessed with Minsuh still is. She’s blocked him who knows how many times.”
           “Wow,” YN gasped, “I didn’t know he was so creepy.”
           “Appearances can be deceiving.” Seokjin spoke as he chugged the rest of the beer down, before tossing it into a metal trash bin nearby.
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Present Time
           Taehyung smiled sardonically as he glared at sheriff Min. “So what is this big narrative you’re telling everyone? Huh? Are you going to say I was so love crazed that I kidnapped Minsuh’s sister and hid her away for three years when you know damn well I was in police academy for the period she went missing.” His handcuffed hands shook angrily, the metal clanging loudly against the table. “Or I got it. I helped Minsuh fake her sister’s disappearance then killed her once she started to have second thoughts and threatened to rat me out.” There was a crazed look in Taehyung’s eyes, if sheriff Min didn’t know without a shadow of the doubt the man was innocent he would have truly thought he was a criminal.
           “I don’t know son. You tell me,” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a tape recorder, replaying Taehyung’s last sentence back to him. “Sounds like a pretty damning confession.
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gayouijaboard · 25 days ago
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Another Lifetime: Shouldn’t Have Gotten Shot
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Description of war and battle injuries, mentions of blood, gunshots, language, etc.
Summary: Bucky doesn’t like talking about her, but Dr. Raynor isn’t an easy person to argue with. And now that it’s summer –– now that he’s living through the months they’d shared together all over again, only without her by his side –– fighting the memories becomes all the more difficult.
A/N: Listen, I really don’t know what’s gotten into me but ever since tfatws started I have been INSPIRED! Hoping to update this fic sem regularly, but we’ll see where the new school term takes us. As always, I hope you enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!
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Bucky Barnes has never been overly fond of the summer.
One aspect was the fact that he could remember what it was like to be a miserable kid living in a cramped Brooklyn apartment with no air conditioning and three baby sisters who never stopped whining about the heat. Of all the jumbled, foggy memories bouncing around the confines of his skull, that one is clearer than most. And though he still finds it difficult to picture the faces of his little sisters –– can’t hardly remember arcs of their noses, much less the colors of each of their eyes –– a nostalgic, brotherly feeling washes over him all the same.
There’s also the little detail that he’d received his draft notice in the summer months. That Bucky remembers perfectly, one of the few memories strong enough to remain unmuddied by all those years of shitbag scientists rooting around his head and picking his brain apart. The heat that year had been sweltering, and once his mother found him in her kitchen with that damned letter clutched between his fingers, he felt it burn right through the strings of his heart. 
The first week of July delivered the news. The last saw him shipping out to bootcamp. 
He guessed he didn’t mind the sunshine. That part had always been nice, and it helped to calm him on occasion these days, to remember that the golden rays licking comforting heat up his skin were the same ones which had shone down on him back in the 40s, before and during the war.
Before Hydra had condemned him to seventy long years of dark and cold.
To that end, logic said the season he really should hate was winter, but he’d never felt any ill will toward the colder months, and found now, in the present, that he’d only grown fonder of them. When the rain came down from the sky in sheets, or when snow fell so thick it resembled white, puffy clouds blanketing the ground, he took walks. Partly because no other soul would be idiotic enough to trudge through a borderline natural disaster at three in the morning, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with prying eyes and conspicuously pointing fingers, and partly because experiencing said natural disasters in solitude did wonders for the soul.
Steve thought it was strange. Hated that Bucky did it, kept insisting that he at least take a goddamn jacket, there isn’t any actual proof he can’t get pneumonia. But Bucky always shook his head and declined, rolling his eyes and muttering beneath his breath about how apparently the tables have fucking turned.
But, no. The winter, the rain, the cold –– none of that could ever draw half as much ire from him as did the gentle beginnings of June, the scorching heat of July, the fading light of August. Because those weren’t the things which served as reminders from before.
Reminders of her.
“James. Did you hear me?”
Bucky blinks hard, freeing his gaze from the wall calendar tacked up and viewable just over his doctor’s shoulder. Glancing down, he sees the familiar green of the velvet armchair –– one of three options for patients to choose from in her office, and Bucky’s personal favorite on account of the way its textures did something to sooth him as he gripped its arm anxiously with his flesh hand –– and the worn, fraying knees of his black jeans against it. He doesn’t bother meeting his therapist’s gaze. He already knows which of her expressions he’ll find her leveling at him, if he does.
“Sorry,” Bucky mutters, sucking his teeth. He hopes his voice isn’t quite as strained as it sounds –– though, judging by the way Dr. Raynor clucks her tongue as her fingers twitch toward her pen, it definitely is. “Guess I’m a little scattered today.”
The sardonic hum Raynor gives in response as she knowingly tilts her head nearly makes him open his mouth to finish the silent argument she’d started, but Bucky knows better than that. The moment he starts up, she’ll feign innocence and inquire as to why he feels the need to defend himself when no verbal accusation has been made. God damn, it would be just his luck to end up with the one government assigned therapist actually capable at her job.
“That’s what you said yesterday,” Dr. Raynor offers. “And the two days before, if memory serves me right.”
Bucky shakes his head and tsks, tapping a metal finger against his temple. “Not a funny joke, doc. Remember the audience you’re dealing with here.”
“‘Deflecting.’”
The word drops from Raynor’s mouth with a simpleness that puzzles him.
“‘Scuse me?” he prompts when she only goes on to stare at him owlishly.
“Oh, that’s what I’d be writing in my notebook,” she explains simply, folding her hands together in her lap and leaning back in her chair. “If we were using it right now, that is.”
Again, Bucky rolls his eyes, and has to make an active attempt not to cross his arms like a forlorn child. The threat in her words is easily recognizable, not that she’d really bothered trying to conceal it. She knows that damn notebook irritates him more than any other aspect of their current arrangement, and he knows she’s not bluffing. If he doesn’t start talking, Raynor starts writing –– and if Raynor starts writing, he gets tailed by government watchdogs to ensure there are no imminent incidents lurking in the near future.
He sighs dejectedly and meets her gaze. “What was it you asked me?”
“What it is about the month of June that makes you so uncomfortable.”
Bucky blinks, red alarm bells shrieking in his head. Fuck, he can’t help but think. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Caught red handed.
“June’s fine,” he tries, but even to his own ears the assurance sounds weak. To think, he’d once been the most prolific tool of espionage around –– now he can hardly deliver a lie with a straight face. “Don’t have any feelings toward it one way or the other.”
“Strike two,” Raynor quips, glancing one again toward her pen.
Fuck!
Exhaling sharply through his nose, Bucky sits a little straighter in his seat, searching for any semblance of comfort to be found while already knowing he was bound to come up short. Damn it all. She wasn’t going to let him out of this one.
“Alright, hold your horses,” he sighs, waving a halting hand. Raynor’s expression doesn’t shift. She simply continues peering at him with her dark eyes, waiting patiently for his next few words to come. “Why do you assume I’ve got a problem with June?”
“Because you didn’t start staring at that calendar until it switched over from May,” Raynor supplies. “Like I mentioned, today isn’t the only day you’ve been scattered. Seems like something we should consider talking about.”
“No,” Bucky answers quickly. Too quickly. Shit. If she thought he’d been deflecting before, he didn’t even want to know the words running through her mind in regards to his behavior now. “I mean–– well, no. I don’t think it’s that important.”
Raynor arches a brow. “Funny,” she tells him, “the way your eyes keep drifting back to the word ‘June’ tells me otherwise.”
He sighs, worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. Caught between a rock and an even bigger, weightier rock. The universe really wasn’t one to take his side often.
Bucky knows there really isn’t any choice here. Either he does what Raynor asks and elaborates on his suspicious behavior, or he risks facing the repercussions of those notes she’ll be jotting down in her notebook. Which of the two evils is more definitively the lesser, he can’t rightly say, but he knows which of the consequences he’d prefer to suffer through. And they’re certainly not the ones which see him robbed of the ability to walk freely down the street without a detail of armed babysitters.
So he figures that, maybe for once, being honest can’t be the worst decision to make.
“A few years ago, back before the blip,” Bucky tries, “I spent a summer in Wakanda.”
“Housed by the royal family,” Raynor nods, tone soft. “We’ve spoken about that before. You said you found it peaceful there. That you liked it.”
He did, and still does. On the nights when his mind isn’t quiet enough to let him find sleep but his heart feels light enough to forego the slideshow of horrors he’d been made to suffer throughout the years, Bucky’s thoughts often return to the bliss which life in Wakanda had offered him. He’d remember the farm he kept there, the little children who would come to sing and play and dance in trees to keep him company in the afternoons. He’d remember Princess Shuri –– Just Shuri, James, come now –– and the kindness she’d displayed in deactivating the deeper, most concerning parts of his programming. The day she’d told him it was done, turned off, that he’d never be forced to revert back to the Soldier against his will again, he’d rushed her and caught her up in a bearhug so relieved and forceful that her Dora Milaje detail had actually pointed their spears at him. He’d remember the tranquility of it all, the simpleness.
The peace.
There’s no hope of him being able to return to that place any time soon, much as he’d like to, but the memories sit resolutely concrete in his mind. The first of a new set which he’d never have to worry about being stolen away from him by the currents of an electric shock.
“It’s a nice place,” Bucky affirms, sighing wistfully at the thoughts swirling up in his head. “I bring it up because back then, that summer… I started remembering a few things. From before.”
Raynor keeps her face smooth and composed, but Bucky notices the twitch in her cheek that says she’s got a question. “When you say before,” she asks, voice gentle, “do you mean your time as the Winter Soldier?”
He shakes his head, swallowing thickly. Ironically, things would be easier, were that the case. He might not be so miserable in the present, seeing the month of June start all over again. The melancholy might not be so strong. “No, not then. I mean from before. From the 40s, during the war. I don’t know if it was Wakanda’s heat that did it, or that my programming was officially deactivated. But one night I went to sleep in my hut like normal, and then the next morning I woke up, and… and I remembered.”
Raynor clasps her hand together in her lap, the pen, the notebook, the hesitation all forgotten. Bucky sees it in her expression, the shock at the fact that he’s speaking, that she’s actually making progress in getting him to talk about things so painful he often wonders if they aren’t better left in the past. He’s still trying to figure that one out. Miserable as he’s been for the first four days of June, he figures nothing good or relieving or positive can come from retelling this particular tale. It’s all behind him now, and there isn’t anything to be done to change the ending in any significant way.
But… but he figures he owes it to her. As painful as the memories are, they can’t be anything in comparison to what she must have gone through in the aftermath of it all.
Slowly, Raynor crosses one ankle over the other. “What was it that you remembered, James?”
Bucky sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling as deep a breath as he can pull. He lets it loose after counting to six, then opens his eyes again and crosses his arms over his chest. “It started back in June of 1944. I got shot.”
––
June 1st, 1944
It was damn lucky you weren’t sleeping much these days.
A funny thought, really. One which brings a sarcastic, bitter smile to your lips as you bend your neck to get a closer look at your handiwork. Wasn’t it just two nights ago that you’d been laying in your cot, staring up at the moon through the flap of your tent and counting all the reasons it wasn't fair that the bliss of unconsciousness evaded you? Wasn’t it three that you’d considered sneaking into the med tent and downing a few of the sleeping pills meant for the soldiers? You hadn’t, of course –– god only knew the sort of trouble you’d get in if it came to pass that you were caught –– but the consideration had been there all the same.
“Fuckin’ shit!”
The foul language, mixed with the rough jerk of the body beneath your dexterous hands, was enough to steal your attention back from your jaded inner monologue. Nearly two years back, when you’d first signed on to work as a field nurse, the pained outburst would have sent you flinching. Now, the swearing isn’t anything new, and thankfully for the soldier whose leg you were currently stitching up, it was no longer anywhere near enough to give you pause.
“You better hold still unless you want this to scar even worse than it's already going to,” you tell him matter of factly, gently tugging the thread the rest of the way through your current stitch.
The soldier –– Matthews? Moore? You can hardly remember the name he’d gasped at you in pain, but you’re sure it started with an ‘M’ –– rakes his dirty hands over his even dirtier face, brown eyes squeezing themselves shut as his fingers quake with agony. “Sorry,” he rasps, skin paling. “Just… Jesus, shit hurts so bad!”
You cluck your tongue, guilt racking your heart as you push the needle through his skin once more. “Shouldn’t have gotten shot then, genius,” you murmur, shaking your head disapprovingly.
It works. For a moment the soldier’s face twists in disbelief, and in the next, a shuddering, wheezing gasp of laughter expels itself from his throat. The sight is bleak, but it’s enough to twist your heart with warmth as you once again pull the thread through the stitch. You’d learned in the first few months of working as a nurse on the frontlines that the last thing these men wanted or needed was to be coddled along over their injuries, especially by a woman. Vulnerability was more averse to them now than ever before.
Personally, you don’t much understand it –– but your work isn’t, and has never been, about yourself. 
“Look, why don’t you tell me something,” you start, glancing up to… Morrison’s…? face in apology before sticking him with the needle yet again. He jerks, but not quite so violently this time. Another one down. Only about a thousand more to go tonight. “How’d all this happen? I thought you boys weren’t meant to scope the new territory until tomorrow afternoon. Y’know, in the daylight? When you can actually see whether or not someone in the distance is pointing a gun at you?”
“Unit leader was gettin’ jumpy,” the soldier coughs out, groaning against the pain. Guilt stabs your heart like a knife. You’d have given him something for the pain if you had it, something to numb the wound. But shipments of med supplies were behind, and it would be at least a week before you got your hands on anything like that again. “Said going at night would be better, that we could get the drop on them before they even knew we were coming.”
“Yeah,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Never mind the fact that their soldiers know the land better than ours do.”
So, the unit leader had jumped the gun. You’d figured as much, when two of your nurses had run into your tent with messy hair and sleep addled expressions, panicking about the oncoming slew of injured soldiers who needed immediate medical attention. That had been two hours, six patients, and about one hundred and ninety seven stitches ago.
Again. It was lucky you weren’t sleeping much these days.
The soldier whose leg you were currently stitching up opened his mouth to speak –– whether to snark along with you at the poor choice made by the unit’s leadership or to blindly defend his superior’s decision, you couldn’t be altogether sure –– but before he could even fix his mouth to properly shape the words, a sudden roar of someone else’s agony effectively cut him off.
Steadying your hands, you carefully turn to peer over your shoulder, searching for the source of the commotion. All night, you’d been surrounded by a cacophony of screaming soldiers, but that yell of pain is one you’re certain hasn’t yet met your ears. And, as you watch the flap of the med tent swing back before admitting entry to three people –– one of your nurses and two soldiers, one leaning bodily against the other –– you discover that your assumption is correct.
“We got a bad one,” the nurse –– Sally, curly haired, nearing twenty four and a bit more capable than the other girls when met with the sight of blood –– shouts. Her eyes scan the tent, searching and searching until her gaze finally lands on you. She pauses only a moment to turn and direct the uninjured soldier to drag the one he’s supporting over to an empty cot before barrelling in your direction. “Gunshot wound to the abdomen. I haven’t really had the chance to get a good look at it, but he’s–– well, to be frank, that man has lost a shit ton of blood.”
A gutshot. Poor guy would either go through a sickening amount of pain just to die, or he’d survive, and end up having to endure even more pain. Either way, in light of your depleted supply of painkillers, ‘excruciating’ didn’t even begin to describe it.
Oh, damn it all.
“Take over here for me,” you command, gesturing with your chin to the needle perched between your fingers. Sally’s already moving to pluck it from your hand before you’ve even finished speaking. “He’s got about fifteen to go before we even think about sending him back to his tent. Don’t let him convince you otherwise.”
“You don’t think I know better?” Sally remarks drily, but you don’t have the time to come up with a witty comeback. You’re already on your feet and rushing toward the soldier writhing in pain across the tent, reflexively grabbing a collection of gauze, thread, tweezers, and rubbing alcohol along the way.
This isn’t going to be much fun for either of you.
The first thing you do is excuse the uninjured soldier, the one who’d carried him in. For one, there isn’t any need to keep him witness, and for another, you work better when an addition of unnecessary eyes aren’t tracking your every move. Besides. You doubt the poor soul laying on your med cot is at all interested in one of his peers –– one not sick or out of his mind due to his own pain, that is –– see him in this state. So, you simply thank the young man for his assistance and shoo him back in the direction from which he’d come, waiting until he’s passed the tent’s entrance before turning your full, undivided attention to your newest patient.
He’s got his eyes screwed shut tight in pain. You can hardly blame him. Of all the wounds to suffer through, a gutshot has the potential to win least desirable. It’s easy enough to see why, as the young man’s handsome features carve themselves into an expression of despair. A slick sheen of sweat coats his pale forehead, dampening his dark hair and sticking it to his skin. He’s biting down so hard on his bottom lip in effort to swallow his screams that you’re genuinely shocked he hasn’t drawn blood.
Though, part of you wonders if there’s even enough blood left in his body for his lip to bleed. Deep scarlet blooms stain his green shirt, so thoroughly soaked through that the fabric has turned almost black. Swathes of red cover his torso, his pants, the pale skin of his arms. It’s everywhere, already leaking onto the white sheets of the cot.
Sally wasn’t kidding. He really has lost a shit ton of blood.
“Hey there, soldier,” you start up, setting your collection of medical supplies down before taking a closer look at his torso. Shirt sticking to his skin the way it is, you aren’t going to be able to get much done until it’s out of the way. And, given that this man is certainly in no state to shrug it off himself, you’ve got no choice but to cut it. Lucky that you’d thought to grab a pair of scissors too, you suppose. “Don’t suppose you might be able to help a girl out by telling her what year it is?”
His jaw works for a few moments, teeth grinding together so forcefully the sound is audible. You think he might be gearing up to let loose another scream before he shakes his head a single time. “I got–– got shot,” he wheezes, whole body shaking, “not concussed. Don’t–– ah, don’t really… get how the year’s relevant.”
You exhale a bemused scoff through your nose, considering your response as your scissors work their way through the bloody fabric concealing his wound. You’re working as gently as you can, and so far it seems to be doing the trick. The soldier hasn’t flinched once since you started, though it’s hard to tell if that’s more due to the fact that he hadn’t noticed any difference one way or the other, or if it’s because he’s dedicating what strength he has left to keeping his head screwed onto his shoulders.
“Fair point,” you reply, still carefully cutting through his shirt. “How about a name, then? Little more relevant to the conversation, I’d say.”
It takes a few moments of silence for him to respond –– almost as if he’s trying to remember that he’s got a name –– but eventually, it comes.
“James,” he tells you, the single syllable leaving his mouth in a pained grunt.
You nod, cutting away the last of the fabric. “Nice to meet you, James,” you tell him, carefully peeling the tatters of his ruined shirt from his abdomen. “You just hold tight a little longer for me, alright? We’ll fix you up good as new.”
It isn’t a pretty sight, what you find beneath. Under all that red is a nasty wound, jagged and swollen at the edges, punched into the flesh just beneath the southmost edge of his ribcage. Thankfully, no bones have been hit –– a shattered rib would be immediately evident, both in the pitch of his screams and the deformed shape of his chest –– but the wound is more than a little inflated. There’s a puffiness to it that you can’t comprehend, a stiffness to its perimeter that doesn’t click in your mind, until––
Until you see the small, dark center, and suddenly it does.
You swear beneath your breath, a filthy, ugly word that you’d picked up a few weeks back from one of your patients. You don’t even know what it means, not really, but speaking it feels cathartic enough that you don’t altogether care.
Oh, sweet, holy hell.
James cracks an eye open, muttering, “Darlin’, you rea–– you really gotta work on your bedside manner.”
“Alright, listen to me, James,” you tell him, forgoing a witty response. You don’t have the time, not considering what you’re now dealing with, and you figure James will appreciate your working hands more than he’ll appreciate your shitty attempts at banter. “There’s… there’s something I need to do for you, before I can start patching you up. Now, normally I could give you something for the pain, but we’re out of the anesthetic I need. So this isn’t gonna… it’s not gonna feel very good.”
James looses a labored sigh, oddly calm for the clear anguish marring his face. “Shit, well good news,” he mutters, swallowing thickly, “it already doesn’t.”
His lashes flutter in a telltale manner, one which lets you know he’s getting closer to the brink and you’re running short on time. It’s easy enough, not to give in to the panic this incites in your chest. You’ve been doing this job a long time now, know that what James needs is your calm, your level-headedness. Those things have a higher chance of keeping him alive, of seeing to it that he comes out of this on the other side. Scarred up, maybe, and without the ability to breathe as deep as he once could, but still alive.
You shake your head, grabbing the tweezers from where you’d set them down before planting your forearm against an uninjured section of James’ bare chest for leverage. “Alright, big breaths, James. You scream as loud as you want or need to, but just… try and stay as still as you can, okay? I won’t be able to stop until it’s done.”
The only answer he gives in response is a shaky nod, the thick black fringe of his lashes brushing his cheekbones as his lips begin to move at a speed with which your eyes can hardly track. A prayer, you figure, or a plea for a quick end. Whichever it is, it helps him to relax just the tiniest bit more, slightly smooths out the lines of pain and suffering etched into his face.
Until you start digging with the tweezers, that is.
Then it’s all white hot screams of pain.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper beneath his cries, words drowned out by the sheer volume of the howls ripping out of his throat. But you don’t stop working, don’t withdraw the tweezers from his bloody wound. You hadn’t been joking when you told him starting meant you couldn’t stop until you finished. Abandoning the task now meant leaving James to bleed out in a matter of seconds. “I know it hurts, I’m sorry. You’re doing good, though, alright? You’re doing amazing. I’m sorry.”
It takes a moment for the tweezers’ edges to find the metal bullet lodged in his skin. At first, all you can feel is a mess of flesh and muscle, shredded and frayed from the impact of the gunshot. For a few short seconds, you wonder if your eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on you, if it would have been more wise to search for an exit wound on his back than to simply jump straight in without taking the time to stop and think.
But your worries are unfounded –– proven two seconds later when your tweezers make contact with the tiny, foreign object threatening James’ life. Carefully, you maneuver the tweezers into the correct position to properly take hold of the bullet. Then, with one last whispered apology, you slowly and carefully begin to pull.
James’ legs buck hard against the cot, arms straining at his sides where he’s got both his hands fisted into the sheets in an attempt to hold on for dear life. His teeth chatter against each other, knocking and clacking as he tries to get ahold of the screams pouring freely from him, and that thin sheen of sweat coating his skin has turned into a full on tidal wave.
But his torso doesn’t move –– not a single inch.
“We’re almost done,” you assure him, keeping your hand steady as you continue gently easing the bullet up, and up, and up. You can just make out the silver edges of it now, slick with blood and dented. It won’t be long now, before it’s out and you can start working on staunching the blood leaking from his body. Maybe you can lift his spirits with a joke or two then, a witty comment to ease some of the pain. Maybe––
The bullet slips from the tweezers, catching you off guard and jerking your hand to the left. It’s only by a centimeter, not a huge distance, but given that you’ve got edges of metal inserted into this man’s wound, to him, it makes all the difference in the world.
James throws his head back and screams, loud enough that you can instantly hear his vocal cords go raw beneath the strain of the volume. A single word leaves his lips; it sounds like Ma, only it’s warped, strangled. Much as you detest the fact, you know the sound well. A soldier crying out for his mother while under the thrall of delirium and pain isn’t exactly a rarity around these parts.
Guilt twists your heart with the razor sharpness of a cruel knife.
“Stop,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “P-please–– please stop!”
“I can’t,” you tell him, already repositioning your tweezers and going back in. Luckily, the bullet is much closer to the surface of his wound now. It only takes a second before you find another grip on it, instantly deciding to forego gentleness in favor of speed. “But the good news is––” With a slight bend of your wrist and a soft, wet pop, the bullet comes loose from his wound. “––we’re done with the shitty part.”
James’ eyes, glassy with pain and pupils blown wide, fall first to the bullet you hold up for his perusal, set against a backdrop of lowlight and your blood covered hand, before wandering their way up to your face. It’s then that you notice his irises are water blue and clear as crystal. You’re not sure why, but their color fascinates you.
“I wanna keep that,” he mutters weakly.
Then, his lashes flutter rapidly and his head lolls to the side, his lungs expelling a great, big breath before shuddering to a halt.
Your heart lurches at the sight. For one, awful moment, you think you’ve just put the poor man through all of that pain and agony only to end up somehow killing him in the process –– never mind the fact that this isn’t the first time you’ve extracted a bullet from a soldier’s abdomen, and certainly isn’t likely to be the last. But then his chest starts up moving again, at a much less worrisome pace. It’s slow, and his breaths are shallow, but they’re still breaths.
Unconscious –– not dead.
The realization is enough to make you send a mental note of thanks to whichever being was kind enough to have shown James mercy.
You allow yourself the shortest of moments to bask in the relief –– that you’d successfully extracted the bullet, that James hadn’t died during or after your attempts to do so, that you aren’t now left to set in motion the process of another condolence letter being shipped across seas to his family.
And once it passes, once you’ve inhaled and exhaled and wiped your hands on a cloth, you grab a cloth and press it to James’ wound, setting to work on stopping his bleeding –– but not before wrapping the bullet you’d just dislodged from his body in a pad of gauze and tucking it into the breast pocket of your uniform.
––
Chapter Two: Someone Good
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little-diable · 25 days ago
Text
Distraction - Sebastian Stan (smut)
Just a small, smutty drabble. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: He hates to see her struggle, (y/n) is going crazy as her homework keeps her on her toes, hating the never-ending coursework she has to take care of, so her boyfriend steps in, distracting her for a while. 
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, bathtub sex, mentions the lockdown 
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x student!fem!reader
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Every huff, every whimper that fell from her lips coaxed a slight chuckle out of the tall man. He’d watch her from the sofa, legs crossed, hands holding onto the new book he had ordered a few days ago, keeping himself occupied as she was struggling, losing her sanity.
“Fuck,” an exhausted sigh left (y/n), eyes fluttering close, forehead pressed against her palm. “Hey, come here for a moment.” She followed his voice, crashing against his body, head placed right on top of his heart.
“Take a deep breath for me, will you?” Sebastian combed a hand through her hair, pressed a kiss to her scalp. He admired her, admired all her strength she put into her courses, how she tried to focus on all her classes, even though the world was slowly but surely falling apart.
Moments like this were proof enough to her that moving in with him had been the right decision, Sebastian was taking care of her, would catch her as she’d tumble into a spiral of exhaustion, mind working on overdrive. 
No matter what, he’d stay right by her side, would massage her shoulders as the clock struck 3 am, would make her breakfast as she was pulling an all-nighter, catching up with her homework, the endless pages she’d have to read.
Sebastian was always there, right where she’d need him.
His wandering hand pulled her out of her thoughts, his fingertips ran along her sides, disappearing under her shirt, tracing her soft skin. Every touch of his kept on pouring oil to the fire that he had set alight, burning flames that fueled the love she felt for him. “I need to get back to writing my essay.”
But he didn’t let her escape from his tight hold, cupping her cheek as her curious eyes found his. “You’ve been writing for the past three hours, you need a break.”
The panicked expression that tugged on her features didn’t go by unnoticed, but all Sebastian did was press his lips against hers, swallowing every protest that could bubble out of her, stopping her from finding a way out of the situation. As if she’d ever say no to some quality time with her boyfriend.
Slowly he undid the zipper of her jacket, exposing the lace bra she had worn for the past two days, too lazy, too distracted to properly change into fresh clothes. “How about we take a bath, huh?”
Moments later she found herself pressed against his frame, arms wrapped around his waist, waiting for the hot water to fill up the tub. “I love you,” the words brought a smile to his lips, pulling her head off his shoulder, properly admiring the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, “I love you too darling.”
He watched her undress, felt his cock twitch with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor, shamelessly checking out the woman he had been with for the past two years. 
Both didn’t find it in their hearts to care about their age difference - wouldn’t listen to the nagging voices of paparazzi or journalists that tried to pull them apart. They belonged together, perfectly complementing each other, as if they were made for one another, in more than one way.
As it was his turn to undress (y/n) struggled to keep her eyes off his almost naked frame, admiring every inch of his skin, the abs she’d trace with her fingers, the muscular thighs she’d rest her head on, the cock she’d choke on.
Her love drunk gaze stayed hooked to his frame, even as he pulled her into his chest, straddling his lap. “Let me take care of you,” the whimper that bled from her lips was confirmation enough for him, asking - begging him to keep on touching her, grinding her middle against the hand that cupped her sex, against the thumb that circled her clit.
His touch kept her distracted from the work that was waiting for her, in that very moment she could only think of him, the glorious lover whose heart she was holding in her hands. “Feels so good,” her hot breath crashed against his lips, forehead falling against his. It felt as if her skin was on fire, engulfed by a thick blanket of heat, drops of sweat began to run down her spine, dripping into the hot water.
Two of his fingers found their way into her tightness, pumps in sync with the circling motion of his thumb. “Need you inside of me.”
The cocky smirk on his lips shot another wave of heat through her, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted in pleasure, slowly raising her hips. His throbbing cock found her entrance, tip running through her wet slip, arousal getting mixed with the water. “Always so ready for me.”
A relieved sigh left them both at the same time, bodies connected, as close to one another as one could be. With his hands on her waist he helped her build a steady rhythm, hips jerking upwards every now and then, impatiently thrusting into her. 
She was a moaning mess, sweaty body finding its refuge in his arms, lips sharing unspoken confessions, giving their emotions strength to spill out of them, forming an indivisible bond.
“I’m so close,” his cock rubbed against her walls, she could feel his every vein. Her hands found the hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging on them, silently asking for the final push, the final thrust that would let her orgasm run through her system. “Let go, cum for me.”
His thumb found her pulsing clit once again, adding pressure to the sensitive nub, catching her as she was falling over the edge. Her walls fluttered around his cock, squeezing his member. (Y/n)’s moans echoed through the fogged-up bathroom, followed by the groans that rumbled through Sebastian.
It took him a few more thrusts to follow her, release filling her, warmth spreading through her, keeping its hold on the blissful feeling. “Thank you,” the sloppy kiss they shared left them both smiling, exhausted bodies pressed together as they sunk down further into the water.
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scribbling-stiks · 25 days ago
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OS - Lone Star
TW Alcohol and implied nsfw
Texas runs as fast as his legs can carry him, trying desperately to get away, to escape, and leave behind the mess he made.
He'd just joined them, just joined a new family, and yet it's already ruined.
He scrubs the tears away with a scowl, hopping onto his horse and kicking. The horse whines and bucks before speeding off toward the sunset.
'Just like those movies.'
'I can't stay here. Not anymore.'
He growls and his eyes burn.
'Why do I have to be so stupid!'
He snarls and violently scrubs away at his face, covering it and trying to ignore the shaking in his breath.
'Can't keep anything nice.'
Flashes of images of America screaming, Dixie yelling, and so much fucking blood.
'I didn't mean to.'
He could almost imagine voices calling for him behind the whipping wind filling his ears. He clutches his hat and clenches his teeth.
The states he had taken to thinking of as siblings putting themselves between him and their father.
Texas bites his knuckle and blinks hard.
Even Alaska.
'My chest hurts.'
He scowls, trying to turn it to anger, but can't find it in himself to be angry at anyone but himself.
Eventually, the horse's movement slows to a trot and Texas no longer finds comfort in the whipping winds. A white knuckle grip encircles the reins and he scrubs at his face with his hands. He looks down only to realize that he hadn't brought anything but the saddle and the clothes on his back.
He scowls and sniffs. He pulls the horse to a stop and gets off. He ties the reins to the hook on the saddle and the horse whines.
"Go home, boy," Texas says, gently patting the horse's flank, "I didn't bring the stuff to take care of ya."
The horse begins to trot home, and Texas watches in the fading daylight before he turns back around and trudges through the sandy, desert grounds.
When he reaches a city, it's already late into the night.
He walks into the closest bar he spots, his main focus is to drown out the emotions storming his thoughts. He parties and drinks and the whole rest of the night blurs into bright flashes of light mixed with bliss and guilt.
He wakes up the next morning, a scream of terror on the tip of his tongue. The sun burns his eyes.
He looks around and finds his clothes scattered in a room he didn't remember walking into, to his left a woman, and his right a man, both as bare as he.
Texas feels his dignity leave him as he carefully crawls over the couple, collecting his things and leaving, giving the room one last head nod goodbye before closing the door behind him.
He continues his aimless wandering, not ever wanting to go home, but his thoughts begin to swirl.
He only stops to spend his nights at bars, in blurs of alcohol, and leaving before his partners wake up. He loses count of the days he'd been gone.
'How selfish am I? Escaping like that? Into booze and sex?'
Soon, he finds himself sitting against a tire hung on a barbed wire fence, staring out at the vast plains that lay ahead. He watches the sunset, and his heart gets heavier the more time his thoughts occupy him.
'Why did they all move like that? Did they always expect me to lash out?'
His mind is already set on the answer, but he shoves it away, his face stone cold.
"Hey! Boy!" Someone calls from behind him.
Texas jumps in surprise. He turns to see an old man walking toward him on a cane.
"What are you doing out here? Them snakes like to burrow there."
Texas carefully gets up.
"Come 'ere," the old man demands, and Texas tilts his head down, obscuring his face.
"Yes, sir," Texas mumbles.
"You're comin' with me and gettin' inside. There's supposed t' be a tornado coming soon and you don't wanna be caught in one of them out here."
Texas solemnly nods and follows the man back to an old looking farmhouse, his hands at his sides and quiet.
"Take off them there shoes before you step inside," the geezer says, shaking his cane at Texas' feet.
"Yes sir," Texas mumbles, kicking off his shoes.
"So, son, what are you doing all the way out here?"
Texas looks away.
"What are you running away from?"
"...I made a mistake."
"You can't run from shame."
"..."
"I'm sure your folks are looking for you."
Texas looks away.
"Now call your folks. I'm sure they're worried sick."
Texas stares at the landline phone the man gestures to. New Mexico's number loops in his mind. He bites his lip.
'Maybe she won't pick up.'
His heart pounds in his chest.
He slowly dials the number and holds the phone to his ear. The dial tone fills his head until a tired voice answers. Hoping in the back of his she won't pick up.
"Hello?" New Mexico's voice ring through, sounding unbelievably tired.
Texas feels his heart stop.
"Is there anyone there?"
"Mexi?" Texas mumbles.
"Texas!?!" New Mexico shrieks, "Oh thank God! Are you okay? Where are you?"
"Uhm... sir?" Texas asks off the phone, handing the phone to the old man.
Texas sits back on the couch, just shaking his head.
Eventually, the old man hangs up the phone and sits in the lazy-boy chair on the opposite side of the room.
"You certainly got good folks," the man comments.
Texas looks away.
"You shouldn't be running away from 'em. Your sister says she'll be here soon."
Texas bites his lip and waits, trying not to catastrophize. But despite his efforts, images of screaming and anger flash in his mind and the worst-case scenarios play on repeat.
Then there is a furious knock on the door. The old man smirks and stands, opening the door. He hears someone come crashing in and he sees a flurry of movement before someone hugs him, tight.
"You're okay! You're okay. Oh thank God," New Mexico says into his shoulder, seeming to dismiss the grime that covered his clothes and the grease in his hair.
Texas couldn't help himself when he latches onto her. Tears well in his eyes and a lump grows in his throat.
New Mexico pulls back and scowls, wiping tears off her face before slapping him. Texas takes it without complaint.
"Why the fuck did you do that?!" she shrieks, scowling, and tears stream down her face, "Running away like that and sending Austin back to the house alone?! You fucking dumbass!"
Then she pulls him back into a tight hug, and Texas feels his walls break. His shoulders shake and he sobs. he grabs the back of her garb and holds it as if she's about to disappear.
He leans into New Mexico's shoulder, his breath choked by sobs.
New Mexico rubs small circles on his back until he calms a little.
"Where have you been?" New Mexico asks quietly.
"Just walking," Texas mumbles.
New Mexico scoffs and shakes her head in disbelief.
"You sent Dad into a full panic. Hell, even York and Cali are looking for you."
Texas just feels his emotions wrack through his body, shaking.
New Mexico pulls away and stands in front of him, digging through her pockets and pulling out her phone.
"Hey, Apple! Yes, this is actually important. I'm with Texas right now... yeah..."
Texas finds himself buried in guilt to pay much attention to the rest of the conversation.
Eventually, New Mexico hangs up.
"Lulu and Peaches are gonna come and get you. I think they got Bama and Sippi with 'em, but they're the closest right now, and I got to go back home. But I ain't leaving until I know you're with them."
Texas nods mutely and New Mexico sighs.
"You know Dad's not even mad, right?"
Texas' head whips up to face her. He stares in disbelief when she gave an airy laugh.
"He just wants to make sure you're okay."
Texas buries his face into his hands
New Mexico sighs and takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch.
"I ain't never seen two people with such clear flags," the old man comments and Texas stiffens, "normally something's gotta be off. Who are you?"
Texas tenses and New Mexico sighs.
"I suppose I owe you an apology. But most do not know who we are, but I owe you an explanation," New Mexico says, standing and tipping her hat before offering a hand, "My name is New Mexico, and that there is my brother, Texas."
'Brother? Does she still think of me like that? I thought I would be no one.'
"The states?" the man asks.
"Yes," New Mexico agrees with a nod, "we represent the populations. Our flags are the official flags of our states, that's why they look like replicas."
The man nods and looks at Texas, respect shining in his eyes. Texas can't meet his eyes.
They wait quietly until there is another knock. The old man invites them in and Texas finds himself under a near crushing weight.
"Texas!" Alabama cheers.
Mississippi and Alabama pile on top of him and laugh in relief.
Texas laughs quietly and hugs them back.
"Well, are y'all gonna come home with us?" Georgia asks.
"Yeah. Come on Tex, let's go," Mississippi says, pulling Texas to his feet.
Texas looks away, but can't bring himself to argue.
~
Table of Contents
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crackcrocs · 25 days ago
Text
DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #9
This is to narcissistic mothers/ parents & anyone who is willing to understand.
(Written by me-for and through the lens of my dear friend, i wish you nothing but freedom from her chains. i wish you TLC)
They can make everyone think they’re loving parents.
They can make their kids believe that abuse is normal.
They can make you believe you owe them everything.
They can make themselves believe that they are right.
They can make you believe that it was your fault.
All of this rings so true.
They do make you feel crazy; they suck the energy and ability to reason logically right out of you- and, by very nature of their narcissism, it never occurs to them that *they* might be the problem.
You can’t expect a relationship to happen with someone highly dysfunctional. how do you stoop down to the level of someone who aside from work & put all energy into keeping up an appearance can only abuse substance, speak to empty friends & post garbage.
In truth, I think the alcoholism is a symptom of her larger mental illness or narcissistic personality disorder- but it’s no excuse. Her parenting is unreliable, inconsistent, and unpredictable. There never is a sense of safety and consistency, allowing me to thrive.
I’m told to forgive & keep peace & ignore all your craziness. All the advice I've been getting on dealing with a narcissistic mother has been saying to avoid her as much as possible, or to try communicate & ‘keep peace’ as if I haven’t tried to communicate, as if I’m purposely singling her out from our already empty relationship. Well now I'm stuck at home all day, or every household or friend I bring over, she decides to involve. So much for distancing myself.  The worst part is she isn't even doing it herself, she just sits around watching tv, having friends over & phoning everyone while Im expected to clean up after her and "contribute" to the family/ financially support my self for college.
- Yes, absolutely, I am the crazy one. You know what, I’m not even going to deny it, I probably have a ton of issues, most of them mental. But guess where they came from? Guess who made those problems worse and maybe even helped create them? No mom, you’re not to blame for everything or the “war in Iraq” as you so eloquently put it. But you are to blame for some it, at the very least. it’s time to take account & I will no longer be made to feel like the obligated for for an entitled narc.
I feel your claws sinking in less and less.  You no longer have me in chains, I will break free from your emotional bondage even if it takes me seeming boring & silencing myself around you to not endure & tolerate your nonsense. Your words no longer fill me with despair like they once did.
This year long cold shoulder would have once filled me with anxiety but now all I feel is bliss. I no longer feel jealous when others talk about their seemingly perfect parents because I may not have that luxury but what I do have is a chance to be a "perfect parent" myself potentially one day. To be everything you couldn't and wouldn't somewhere far away and isolated from your poison.
I wonder how you feel...  but I simply can’t understand or pretend to care anymore. I’m tired of putting energy into a source that doesn’t put out. When children don't talk to you unless prompted- it’s because there is nothing to be said after the plenty opportunities given to converse truly & openly.
No I don’t want to speak to your 9th friend on the phone today again about surface level things just to please you. No I don’t want to come socialise with your drunk friends & be spoken to like a child
When you have to tell yet another lie to yet another friend to mask the evidence of a broken home When you look in the mirror and only see insecurities When you realise there's no one around you and can't figure out why When you tear down someone close yet again, to feel good about yourself  I wonder how you feel, I wonder if you feel, I wonder if you can...
my mom pushes me away but doesnt wanna let me leave. she doesn’t want to take into account that she pushed me to this extent. part of growth is being able to communicate your emotions properly. how can a whole 43 year old be unable to do so? I Vocalize when I’m not okay with something. Communication helps people avoid being uncomfortable, easily triggered, hostile, or passive aggressive with people. her communication is one sided and I’m the only one who gets to listen while she’s the only one who gets to talk, otherwise I’m ‘answering back’ or ‘telling a woman what to do’ even though I talk sense and out of respect in my responses or when I do try speak.
Worse yet I have to go BACK to the emotionally abusive situation that I basically fled.
What really bugs me is when you’ve given someone so many chances to do better and change. But then once you get tired of their antics, you try to move on and they continually try to reel you back in. Not even trying to change, but instead *trying* to reel you back in for their benefit. It’s unhealthy and traumatizing to say the least.
I guess i should be glad your swinging moods and emotions taught me to manage mine from young. I should be glad that I had to teach myself not to care about what you said to me and what you thought about me. I should be overjoyed that the side effect was me not caring about what anyone said or thought and basically becoming an inert emotionless void. I should be thankful that I always look fine even when I’m in pain and feeling like death and I’m capable of putting up with things that would send any sane person off the edge.
relationships are so much healthier when the goal is to experience life together and not to try to make the person into who you want them to be or to make them do what you want them to do. In my case my mother has de masculated me over the years making me soft and obedient, for her own selfish gain of having a man worship her. she decided since she doesn’t have a man, or never managed to find someone stay at home that’s he truly connected to, she’s decided the man that’s going to worship her will be me- her son. Since I resemble my father who she was in love with, she will always talk bad on me as she resents my father for not wanting her.
through gaslighting me over the years, it’s become harder to speak up, I even feel embarrassed to tell my dad even though that’s probably the only thing that will make her open her eyes and get clean. my pot is boiling though. Independence is obviously healthy but when it gets to the point where i find it challenging to actually be able to even admit that i might need assistance in this situation,  problems arise. And for what? Why I’m I protecting her image? I’ve been taught to & I’m a respectable young man who won’t take joy from her exposure, but I don’t take joy from preserving information & keeping it all inside to deal with myself. I’ve become so hard on myself and still pushing through-it’s not easy, people still expect me to be a super heroe all the time. I have a hard time opening up, allowing people to help me in whatever I’m doing. I hate even admitting I need help most times. I wish I’d been taught early what my mother learned late, thankfully I was observant, self taught & still willing to learn- thankfully I’m not a follower & I know right from wrong.
The worst part about looking at the future and trying to imagine it full of hope, light and emotional health is knowing that you'll always have the scars. Emotional abusers aren't supposed to leave scars but mine managed to. And in my mother's usual style it can even be passed off as unintentional. In my case it was actually supposed to a kind act which ended badly in the way that only events in my life can seem to end.
All the phone calls to your friends, you continuously fake talk about me on a nonexistent relationship. it’s sad how you need to phone 100 people in a day and can only hold the same surface level chats. I wonder if you can grip the fact that nobody ever wants to help you with anything. you’re lucky they even listen and you’re lucky they only know your side of the story every time. you’re a great potter & can mould situations.
It’s sad that if you sense the slightest hint that people do not approve of your estrangement and they are not going to be there for your nonsense, you stir the pot and involve and buss peoples names, further spinning your web of lies.
All the pity you came to relish over the years as single mother warrior extraordinaire would simply dry up. Any attempts to paint me, your only child in a negative light would seem simply monstrous if I exposed you, but I maintain respect, bite my tongue & hold my head up because my real mother figure taught me that.
But really you have to keep up the pretense to your friends, that I was an insubordinate, ungrateful bitch of a problem child and you were a glorious brave single mother at her wits end just trying to make things work. even with the mural I painted, you forced me to mention the single mother narrative; as if that had anything to do with my art piece. I mean how selfish can you be? the art peace was to represent Sheku Bayou & the BLM movement, I didn’t even want to put my real name- I wanted to put my instagram page associated with my art because business is business and personal is personal. but to toot your horn, I added a whole separate paragraph because you wanted your name to be connected to my art piece as though I’m some sort of celebrity and it was my claim to fame. the single mother narrative is bullshit, I know tonnes of single african parents that know how to step up when it’s time to be a mother, but that’s something you’ve never known how to do. I remember you drunk the day I came here and I will never forget the words ‘I will drink myself to death if I want to’ I don’t have sympathy anymore and I’m not a saviour, I have tried and tried through hiding alcohol, attempting to converse & get her to cut down; but you can only bring a horse to the water not to drink it. how is a teenager meant to know how to stop an alcoholic junkie? I’m her son you say? If she truly cared and wanted to fix up, I would be one thing to stop her I thought.
my mother is an alcoholic. an addict. she refuses to wear those labels, but this has far exceeded the occasional ‘binge’ ‘sesh’ or ‘Prosecco party’ .Throughout middle school and high school, I would guess that half or so of the days out of the year she spent in a wine haze. Even my constant begging her to stop drinking did not stop it. Pouring her wine down the drain or hiding it made her angry and transitioned to mental and phsyical abuse. She became increasingly angry and I aged and entered high school but she was always this way since I came really. It was during this time that I would lock the doors to my room and try to hide from her in there. I still barricade my room door to this day just for my own peace. Despite all the horrendous things she did, every once in a while she did give me money, and this gets dangled over my head RELENTLESSLY... as if money buys love.
I needed to get some outside reassurance that I'm sane. Thankfully now I know and all I can do is try stay in my lane, can’t argue with a supposed adult with a brain that resembles a wall or a child.
People who were emotionally abused have spent far too long defending themselves. Justifying their own feelings. Trying to make others see and understand what they went through is a task. Abusive parents are very good at manipulating. that’s why I have ceased contact with this toxic person, i do not owe anyone an explanation.Doesn’t matter if they are a family member or close family friend. Doesn’t matter if they are a friend or acquaintance of yours. I’ve learned just to be boring , save everything interesting and beautiful about myself for those who deserve it.
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pixarpnflover · 26 days ago
Text
Between the Odds
Part Seven: Picnic Date
A couple days passed since the two had their "special" night together, and since then they didn't get much time to themselves, especially not for romantic activities. They had to work later than usual, so when they got home they were too exhausted to do anything except order takeout and watch movies. While they loved having chill nights in, they were eager to actually do something that most couples did.
But that was going to change tonight, as Nick had something very special planned for his girlfriend. Luckily for them, they were able to clock out early with no excuse, since they had been working hard all week already and they deserved a couple hours off. So after work, Nick told her that he had a surprise for her, but they would need to wear nicer clothes for it.
They made a quick stop at her apartment first to change out of their uniforms. Nick put on his casual green Hawaiian shirt and brown pants—his favorite outfit—while waiting for Judy to get ready. And while she was in the other room, he snuck a bottle of champagne from her fridge so he could bring it with them.
He heard footsteps coming from the hall, and he turned his head to see Judy walking out from her room wearing a navy blue floral dress, and of course her carrot pendant. Somehow she just looked more and more gorgeous every time he looked at her.
Judy noticed him gazing at her, and yet again she felt her heart flutter. She recognized that look in his eyes. It was similar to the one from the night they made love, and she knew exactly what it meant. "What?" She asked with a shy smile, blushing a little.
Nick shook his head, realizing he had been staring for too long. "Nothing." He said, wanting to avoid saying something cliche or cheesy. She would likely just make fun of him for it, anyway. "You look great."
"Thanks." She folded her paws together. "So are you gonna tell me where we're going? And why we're bringing champagne?" She asked, noticing the bottle he was trying to 'hide' behind his back.
"You'll see. Just trust me, Carrots." He said nonchalantly. "Now come on, we're losing daylight."
Hearing him say that made her assume that whatever they were doing was going to take place outside. She obliged and followed him out the door and back outside the building to the car.
It was quite a long drive to this mysterious location, so it was no wonder Nick was in a hurry for them to get dressed. Wherever they were going was far from the rest of the city, definitely not anywhere Judy had been before. By the time they arrived, the sun was already beginning to set, but it was creating a beautiful picture in the sky for them to look at, so it was perfect.
Like he usually did for his surprises, Nick made her cover her eyes as she stepped out of the car. From what she saw, they were just on the outskirts of the city where there was little to no mammals around. He guided her toward a specific spot, making sure she didn't trip, then finally allowed her to look when they reached their destination.
Judy moved her paw down and opened her eyes to see Nick setting a blanket down on the grass with a basket sitting next to him, and above them were a couple trees with lights hanging from the branches. She definitely wasn't expecting this, and though she had her suspicions at first, she was glad that this was the outcome.
"Aww Nick! You did this for me?" She asked in awe, looking around to admire the scenery. They appeared to be in a park/garden of some sort, but since there was no one around, it was the perfect place to spend some time alone.
"Well, I owe you a real first date." He said, pulling out a couple glasses and plates from the basket. "And I thought this was the perfect place where no one would interrupt us."
Judy smiled sweetly at him, walking over to join him on top of the blanket. "It's perfect." She said, sitting down in front of him. "How did you know I've always wanted my first date to be a picnic?"
"Lucky guess." He shrugged, popping open the champagne bottle and pouring them each a glass.
"You really do know me better than anyone." She said amazed, taking one of the glasses.
While she took a couple sips, Nick pulled out the food that he brought, which included many fruits and vegetables (mostly carrots), a salad for her, sandwiches, and desserts. It was a small meal, but it would be enough to satisfy their hunger for the evening.
Judy raised her glass, indicating she wanted to make a quick toast for the hell of it. "To us."
Nick chuckled and lifted his glass to clink against hers, "To us."
The two ate their meals in mostly silence, occasionally commenting on something interesting they saw pass by or how nice it felt to finally be on a date. After the crazy week they had, this is just what they needed, to slow down and enjoy their time together as a couple.
To think that a week ago they were just friends/work partners. But so much happened since Judy's birthday and honestly, she could hardly believe any of it was real. Was it all just some bizarre glimpse of a birthday wish? Was she even good enough to be dating Nick?
Well, here she was, in the middle of nowhere being pampered by her favorite mammal in the world. Even if it felt too good to be true, she knew in her heart that it was.
"So how's your dinner?" Nick asked, noticing that she was finishing up her salad.
"Delicious." She answered, giving a thumbs-up.
"Well, I hope you saved room." He said, pulling out a box of chocolate covered strawberries from the basket.
Judy gasped with a smile, her eyes lighting up. "I swear, you're a mind reader!" She laughed, wiggling her tail. "I— how did you know—"
"I know lots of things, Carrot cake." He winked playfully, taking a strawberry out of the box and holding it up so he could feed it to her. Judy giggled and shook her head, but nevertheless took a bite from it.
After the two finished eating, leaving a couple scraps to save for later, Judy stood up and walked onto the grass, looking up at the lights above her. Nick glanced over at his girlfriend, confused as to what she was doing or what she had in mind. But before he could ask questions, she took a step closer to him and reached her paw out, "Come on, let's dance."
Nick raised a brow at her, setting his glass down after finishing his drink. "There's no music."
"Who cares?" She shrugged, grabbing his paw and pulling him off the ground. "We'll make our own music."
"God, that has to be the corniest thing you've ever said." The fox scoffed, letting her lead him out into the open grass. "And that's saying a lot."
"Shut up." She scowled at him before smiling again, resting one of her paws on his shoulder.
Even though Nick was reluctant, he decided to give in and do what she wanted, since he wanted her to enjoy herself. He wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her closer to him. Their free paws met and held onto each other as their bodies began to sway together in synchronization to an imaginary melody.
Surprisingly, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. Something about the sound of nothingness around them—other than the occasional breeze or street noise from afar—made the moment more romantic for the two of them. Everything about the setting was perfect already. The lights, the sunset, the trees and flowers. They didn't need music to make it better.
"I really did mean it when I said you look great." Nick said, a little out of the blue. He figured she was aware of that already, but he just wanted to be sure. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but he never had the right words. He had never been good at expressing his feelings, not since he was a kid. But Judy understood this, so she didn't mind that his compliments were basic. She still enjoyed them.
"I know." She said, squeezing his paw. "And you look great, too."
"I know." He repeated in the same tone as her just to be silly.
Judy scoffed, but nonetheless smiled. He then took her by surprise when he released her waist so he could spin her around, making her laugh in amusement. Nick took that as a sign that she liked it and spun her again, a couple more times so she could go in a circle. The hem of her dress rose up and revolved with the rest of her body as she twirled like a ballerina around her boyfriend.
She and Nick soon paused to give her a break, but after a moment she grabbed both of his paws and started to go again, this time spinning him with her. The two laughed in complete bliss, staring at each other as their bodies whirled around in a circle. It was a good thing they were alone now, since if anyone saw them like this, they would easily detect what was going on between them. But none of that mattered right now. All they were focused on was each other.
Eventually, the two had to stop to prevent themselves from getting too dizzy. They both sat down against one of trees, having a perfect view of the landscape around them. Judy breathed heavily, resting her head against the bark of the tree. "See? That wasn't so bad."
"Yeah, yeah." He said dismissively, lifting his arm up, "Just come here."
Judy looked up at him and scooted closer, laying against his body, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to ensure she'd remain close, leaning comfortably against the tree.
They both stared off at the sun setting over the horizon, now almost completely gone, leaving the world in the darkness of night. The moon and stars were already occupying the sky, as well as a few clouds and the pinkness of what was left of the sunlight. It was a beautiful sight, one they rarely got to see while living in the city. Judy used to watch sunsets all the time in Bunnyburrow, but none of them were ever as beautiful as this one.
The two remained like this for almost an hour, laying in comfortable quietness, just enjoying each other's company. But now that it was dark and it was going to be getting late soon, Nick figured it was time to go back so they could get their rest.
But as he looked down at the bunny, he saw that she had fallen asleep already. There was no point in waking her up just to take her back home, since he could easily do that without disrupting her slumber. He slowly and carefully sat up and pulled her legs into his lap so he could scoop her up in his arms bridal style. He then stood up and walked back towards the car, laying her down in the backseat so it would be more comfortable for her.
After gathering the dishes and leftovers into the basket, Nick started the car and began to drive back into the city. It wasn't as long of a drive this time since there was less traffic, but it still took half an hour to get to the side of town where they lived. Soon enough he arrived back at Judy's apartment complex and carried her in his arms, making his way inside and up the stairs. He wasn't concerned about the picnic supplies at the moment, he could always deal with that later. Right now his main priority was Judy.
Nick pulled out the spare key from his back pocket and unlocked the door, carrying the bunny all the way into her room. He very carefully laid her down on the bed, pulling the blanket over her body to keep her warm. At first he intended to go back to his place so he could go to sleep, too. But as he gazed down at Judy, he suddenly wanted to stay with her for as long as he could. She looked so peaceful while she was asleep, and he wanted to be around to see her like this all night. 
After going back to grab the picnic basket and blanket, he decided to stay, since everything he needed was here, anyway. Besides, he knew she wouldn't mind. If anything, she'd be glad he stayed with her.
He quickly changed into his nightwear and crawled into bed with her, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close. To him, she was the most precious thing in the world, so she deserved to be treated as such.
Nick kissed her cheek and laid his head on top of hers. "I love you, Carrots." He whispered, causing a smile to instinctively appear on her face.
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macnevercries · 26 days ago
Text
Fantasy
(Deku x F! Reader)
warnings- stepest, mentions of alcohol, dubcon/noncon, penetrative sex
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
It’s fun to pretend. You run down the sidewalk, bidding your friends goodbye and stumbling a little, alcohol still in your system. Your heart beats quickly as you run faster, it’s scary to be out at three in the morning alone. Make it a game, you’re playing tag and you will be less afraid. You round the corner and bounce up the steps to your house, parents gone on a business trip so you decided to stay here for the weekend instead of your college dorm.
You turn the key and the lock clicks open, shutting the door quickly behind you. Once you’re inside you sigh happily, you win. You know that no one was chasing you but sometimes it’s fun to pretend to be a kid again, run from monsters that don’t exist, blood coursing through your veins as your heart pumps faster than it ever should.
Imagining running from a dragon, your pretty dress flowing behind you as you tear down the hallways of your castle. Studying to become a writer had its perks, being alone for you was never boring when you always have a story in your head.
You toss your keys on the counter, flicking on the kitchen lights and turning on the stove. You should probably eat something before you go to bed, alcohol and an empty stomach don’t mix well. You sift through your parents fridge, humming a tune softly.
“Why were you out so late”
You jump at the voice, whipping your head around to face a large chest. Broad tan shoulders block your view. Slowly turning your head up, you meet the green eyes of your older brother.
“When did you become the bad kid, out past 3 and” he leans forward, taking a whiff of you “obviously drinking, what happened to college?” he smirks.
“Why aren’t you at your job? You shouldn’t be here” You retort, a little defensive and embarrassed you were caught. Izuku won this game of tag and you didn’t even know he was playing.
“I’ve been working, just wanted to take a break and visit my lovely little sister” He leans foreword and pinches your cheek. His touch lingers a little too long, brushing his large fingers down your cheek. He always did love teasing you. You move around the barricade that is his body, continuing your conquest for food.
He frowns at the space you put between you two, coming up behind you where you stand in front of the stove. He grips your waist, tickling you.
You burst out in a fit of giggles, bending over as he finds your weak spot. “Iz-zuku stop, I’m trying to cook”
He lets you go but doesn’t move far, breathing over your shoulder with every movement. He’s very protective of you, as any older brother would be. But sometimes it was strange. You didn’t need a knight in shining armor, but he didn’t seem to understand.
You fry two eggs, plating them and sitting down. Izuku sets a cup of water in front of you, taking his place across from you. Your dining room used to be a throne room to you, but with your adult brother it felt so much smaller.
You nod at the water, an inquisitive look on your face. He laughs at you, “You need to sober up”
You frown, not fond of the idea of letting go of the warm blissful feeling the alcohol had left. You drink it anyways, bringing the dishes back to the sink but not washing them, you could do them tomorrow. You trudge over to the couch, flicking on the the TV. Izuku follows your every step, right behind you at all times.
After staring at the brightly lit screen for what felt like hours, trying to ignore how close your brother was, you got up from the couch. He moved up to follow you and you snapped.
“Why do you keep following me, can I use the bathroom alone?”
He falters at your tone, taking a step back. “Oh yeah, my bad I just miss hanging out with you, like we used to?”
His implied words make you shudder, things you’ve tried to forget resurface in seconds. A princess shouldn’t be with her knight, especially if they ‘serve the same king’. Ever since his dad married your mom, things have been weird between you two.
Sneaking into rooms at night, exchanged kisses that weren’t quite right. It was wrong and you knew it, but you could never get enough of him. As you grew older and he went away for school you realized how bad it was and you tried to forget, vowed it wouldn’t happen again.
You walk up the stairs, a little bit too quick. He stays in his place on the couch but watches you go, your hips mesmerizing him. You change into pajamas, brush your teeth, do everything you would normally do. You hop into bed, turning off your lights and wishing sleep upon yourself. Maybe if you just pretend then it wouldn’t be real. His footsteps up the stairs, the knocking on your door, walking in without your response, his weight on the bed, his hand on your thigh. Maybe if you just pretend. This can’t be real.
He pulls your blankets off your unmoving form, he knows you’re not sleeping, he knows you too well. Everything about you, your friends, your school, your relationships, your mental health, and your body. He has it all logged in his head. If he didn’t know all of these things then how was he supposed to protect his baby sister?
Your breathing becomes labored as he pulls down your cotton shorts, lust or fear you’re not sure what makes your heart beat so fast. You’re not familiar with his adult body, he’s grown so much, too much. He could easily overpower you. He’s muscled up for his job and everything is just.. bigger. He’s no longer the sweet boy you knew, the one that comforted you through your mom’s new marriage. No, he’s someone else.
Your mind screams no but your body aches with his familiar touch. He might not look or act the same but he has always been gentle. You mewl when he lifts up your shirt, rough fingers rolling your nipples back and fourth. He plants soft wet kisses on your chest and stomach, never leaving marks. This was a secret, just for the two of you.
You can’t help the way your body jumps towards his hands when he pulls down your panties, thick digits swiping through your folds. You can deny it as much as you want, but you crave him. You whimpers become louder, all of his touches last so long when you can’t see anything in the dark. Right here in your childhood bedroom, you can’t see your brothers face but you know he’s smiling.
You hear fabric shifting and you know he’s discarded his pants as well. He climbs over you, towering, caging you in. Your hips grind up into his, desperate for friction.
“Slow down princess” he chuckles.
The nickname takes you away, let’s you believe that this is okay. It’s just a fantasy, it’s not real. You snap out of that mindset when Izuku pushes into you, bottoming out in one thrust. He groans as your wet walls envelop him, squeezing tightly. A muttered string of curses leave his lips when he starts moving, rocking into you slowly. He speeds up quickly, the warm feeling taking over his control.
He fucks into you hard and fast, the tip of his length kissing your cervix with every movement. He pounds you into the mattress as tears roll down your cheeks. He wipes them away, caressing your face and kissing you earnestly. He wanted you to be his but he knew it couldn’t be that way. If he couldn’t have all of you, then he would at least have this.
“You like it when your step brother fucks your tight little pussy like this? Yeah I know you do”
A broken moan escapes your lips, turning into a sob when his cock twitches at the sound.
His large thumb finds your clit, making quick circles to match his thrusts, bringing you over the edge quickly. He follows right after, pulling out and coming all over your breasts. Sticky fluids drip down chest, an uncomfortable feeling. He tucks himself away, kissing your forehead and exiting the room.
It’s fun to pretend, especially when it lets you believe that moments like these are just a fantasy.
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tehcutiekitsune · 26 days ago
Text
♧Romanice Spice♧
{Venti x Fem Reader}
{It's not sfw the way I like to write it personally}{All characters writen about are 18+}
{Modern witchy Au, same basic story with archons and all that jazz but in a modern setting!}
The moon was full the night was warm and next to you lay your soulmate, the Anemo archon himself.
You wore a soft silk white dress that barely covered your breasts when you moved in certain ways. Normally you'd never wear a dress like this out but tonight was a special date night with Venti.
The full moon was special for magic and you both loved escapeing to a nice space in the middle of the deep woods. Where spirits and seelie play!
On the walk in you were greeted by many seelie who loved to play with you on your usual hikes in the woods.
"How are you feeling?"
Ventis voice came softly in your ear, pulling you from your thoughts. You both had taken a small amount of edibles before laying down together. Opting to watch the stars as they kicked in. Both of you were usually broke but you'd saved up money from tarot readings and Venti's last gig at a cute Cafe to go to the local dispenser for some edibles.
Of course you both always got carded but once they saw your id's being both 25 everything was fine.
You take a deep breath and look up at the stars, you can feel yourself slowly relaxing from all the stress you'd been feeling recently.
"A little while longer I just wanna cuddle." You say as you nuzzle into your lovers chest.
"Works for me cutie, and remember if you end up changing your mind we don't have to" He pets your head. You smile at how understanding he always was.
You both continue to look up at the full moon, enjoying the warm night and gentle breeze. You gaze up and the jewel studded sky with its dazzling moon as it's crowning glory.
The world could wait when you were here, in the deep woods with your own personal freedom. The truama you've collected over your life from the deaths of your parents one after another, to a Cinderella-esque tragedy of having a step mother who abused you.
All of that vanished into the beautiful moonlit night, carried away by the wind.
You blush gently as you start to feel the mood coming on. You gently kiss your lovers cheek before tenderly placing more along his jaw. He smiles and you feel his arm wrap around you gently.
"Just tell me if you want to stop, I'll be nice and slow baby" He comes gently before taking your chin gently and kissing your lips. His warm soft lips pressing lovingly into yours, taking his time, enjoying how much he loves kissing you.
Like a fine wine. That's what you were. When he kissed you he had to savor it, every last moment. The joy and pleasure of just your lips, just one kiss, made his heart race. And yours too, he noticed.
He gently moved the two of you into a sitting position she he could gingerly hold your shoulders as he kissed you. Your hands always found their way to his chest, clutching onto his shirt shyly as he took his time with you.
"Y/N..." He murmured languidly between kisses. He wanted your permission to go a little further.
With a blush and a nod he wraps his arms around you and this time when he kisses you, it's got a little more heat to it.
You welcome his tongue into your mouth, you love the way he firmly holds you with you make out under the moonlight. It always made you feel so safe, so secure.
"V-Venti..." You mewl shyly in delight as one of those mischievous hands has found its way to your rear and is happily giving it a squeeze.
"Ehehe~" He just gives you a grin that's a mix of playful, lusty and shameless all at the same time.
"Sorry love, I just HAD to admire the work of art in front of me thoroughly!" He muses totally unashamed. He just loved you so much!
You huff but giggle at him and push him back a moment. He looks confused before you start to slowly strip off that already thin silk dress.
Hes absolutely aroused and ready as you sit before him on your side.
"Y...you could appreciate it more... if you wanted." You wanted to sound sassy but the shyness got to you.
He holds himself back from ravaging you. Don't scare her, don't scare her. He repeated in his mind. Keep calm Venti, keep your cool, go slow. But oh my God it was hard when you looked more delicious then even the finest wine.
He slowly crawled over to spoon you, his front to your back. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in with a firm hold.
"Little minx" He kisses your neck a few times before beginning to lick and suck on it tenderly. You didn't care much for pain, so he could only leave gentle marks on your neck. He didn't mind one bit. Those mischievous hands of his began to slowly roam your body, one hand on your beautiful breasts, the other traveling very gingerly between your legs.
You loved the way he pet you like this. The gentleness and consideration for your limits. You knew Venti was a horn dog and he was being VERY good right now keeping his enthusiasm in check. Not that he would ever hurt you or force himself on you, just that he was very energetic.
He gently stroked your heat, making you moan from the stimulation. Once he found your "button" as he called it. That's when things got a little more spicy.
You moan out as his hand teases that sensitive button. He was way too good at playing with you like this. He smirked as he used the wind to create a vibration like effect as he teased you, your nectar always flowed the best like this.
Watching you wiggle and move your hips into his hand made him smirk playfully. Using his free hand he gently pushed your face to the side so he could make out with you again while he teased you.
"Oh my precious love" He whispered between breathes "you are more beautiful then any star" He cooed "I love you so much my little princess"
"Oh Venti" you blush looking shy "I live you too! I love you!" You moan out the words before reaching a climax. Venti holds you as you come down from it.
"My sweet love, my most precious one, when you make so many cute noises like that, well it's just not fair! How could I resist such a radiant creature before me?" He teases looking remarkably aroused as he finally removes his own clothes.
You gently lay on the soft blanket, thankful your brought cushens to put under you as Venti crawled on top of you.
You wrap your arms around his neck as you both start to kiss again. God Venti did so love to move his tongue in your mouth, such a sweet taste. He loved this taste more then even wine!
When yoy came up for air he looked at you again and waited for your permission. Once he got it he very gently began to press himself inside of you.
You sucked in a small breath as he slowly stretched you out. He wasn't small by any means but he wasn't a giant either. His member just seemed to be the right size not to hurt you.
"We fit perfectly together" He smiled at you with only love and warmth in his eyes. "We fit together perfectly like a puzzle. You complete me. You are my moon" He couldn't help throwing some beautiful poetic romance at you. These moments were special to you both and he wanted to make your heart flutter like a butterfly!
Which it was! You civet your face shyly and he giggles.
"If you will be my moon, I will be your sun, I will live yo make you shine, and one day I'll help you fix those broken wings of yours" He swears before kissing you again, this time with a passion that only came from a man so truly unconditionally in love.
You pulled him closer, if that were even possible as began to thrust inside of you. His member hitting your core in just the right way to make you sing for him.
"Venti!" You moan out "Venti please-" you cling to him as he continues his pace. "Please what my love?" He groans in your ear. "What do you want your Venti to do?" He coaxed making you whimper in protest.
"A-ah.. a little f-faster" you manage to say as you blush wildy.
Venti covers those cute blushing cheeks in kisses before absolutely follow your orders. He begins to thrust into you faster and a little harder.
You cling to him now, nails clawing gently down his back as he naturally progresses from laying down to you bouncing on his lap.
"I want more" you mewl a little lewdly as the arousal takes over a little. "Take it all it's all for you darling" Venti was such a whipped man for you. He couldn't help but be more aroused when you got on top and let yourself get lost in the pleasure. A pleasure he would never deny you.
"Milk me dry baby~" He licks your earlobe making you twitch as you feel your big climax incoming.
"V-venti VENTI PLEASE!" Ypu begin to bounce roughly on his member and he takes your hips and firmly thrusts up into you, meeting you at every bounce to make the pleasure more intense.
You cling to him desperately as you cry out, riding him into the white hot pleasure of oblivion.
♧♧♧♧♧♧
When you wake from what you thought was just a blissful dream, you find that you and Venti have slept until the sun was high in the sky.
You shoot up in panic, your sex bed head in full swing as you try to wake your boyfriend.
"Venti wake up!! We fell asleep!!" You whine as the musician finally sits up still half asleep. It takes him a second to understand before panicking a little himself.
"Oh crap I hope no one saw you!"
You blush "me what about you!"
"Well if anyone saw you'd I'd have to charge them to see such a magnificent sig-" you throw a pillow at his face.
"Just help me pack I wanna go take a shower I can't believe we fell asleep in the middle of the woods!" You fret and he stifles a laugh as he adds
"Again!"
"AGAIN!!"
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imagine-that-one-thing · 28 days ago
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Styles || Chapter 14
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Marry Me
September
My summer break has come to an end, not that it was much of a break. My summer was spent working with Jamie at the business. When I wasn’t discussing business with his clients and managing portfolios, I worked at Burberry, attempting to bring in some extra money to pay my expenses. Since the night in the hotel, I haven’t spoken to my sister much. I’ve purposely kept my distance, mainly because I don’t have the energy to deal with her problems along with my own. I don’t want to say my sister is a burden, but she isn’t the lightest thing to carry on my shoulders, along with every other damn problem thrown at me. Thanks to her, I am struggling even further to pay for everything; her trip to NYC fucked me over financially.
I feel like everything is suffocating me, slowly wrapping around every part of my body like a relentless vine, tugging and tightening around me to squeeze every bit of air out of me.
I force open the heavy door to my apartment, and I let out a breath of relief, more than ready to sit down for a few minutes and relax. I have barely managed to sit down since my alarm went off at five this morning; it feels like it is a constant to wake up and stay on my feet until the ungodly hour I manage to get back home.
I observe the flicker of candles lighting up most of my apartment that is usually dull from a lack of lights at this hour. I frown for a moment, “Elle?” I question, my hand reaching to flick the light switch, but I’m left with nothing but darkness when my lights don’t turn on. I wait for a moment, hoping for the lights to flick on, but I still stand in darkness.
I wander further into my apartment, attempting another light switch that, of course, doesn’t work. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself, biting my lip as my eyes flick towards my couch that Elise accompanies. I smile for a moment, but my smile immediately fades when I notice her curled up on the sofa with a black dress and her heels settled by the couch.
Oh, fuck. I’ve fucked up again.
I run my fingers through my hair and heavily sigh, disappointed in myself. It seems to be a constant thing now for me to be disappointed in myself.
Damnit, I’m a fuckup for a boyfriend.
I step closer to the couch and take the blanket from its resting place under the sofa, and I gently cover Elise’s body with the blanket. I see her flinch at the sudden touch of the blanket, and I reassure her with a small kiss to the cheek, “It’s me,” I whisper, my hand gently pressing to her arm as she slowly wakes up, “Sorry for waking you,” I apologise as she blinks up at me and I rest on the edge of the couch.
“You forgot, again,” Elise reminds me of the fact I’m the world's shittiest boyfriend.
I nod my head in defeat, “I’m sorry, love.”
“It’s the third time, Harry. You could have called.” Elise points out.
I agree with her, I could have called, but it entirely slipped my mind. I have too many things on my mind and not enough hours in my day to figure it all out.
“Darling, I’m so sorry, I lost track of time and entirely forgot; I’m exhausted, which is no excuse, but please don’t be too upset; I’m trying, Elle. I am.” I plead, not wanting things to end so quickly. I’m doing my best to keep myself afloat, but I’m struggling. I don’t want to ruin things with Elise, but I feel like I am.
I’m a failure with relationships.
“I know, it’s just… frustrating.” Elise trails off.
I know it’s frustrating. I know Elise didn’t sign up for a half-assed boyfriend who forgets things and loses track of time. I wish I could do more for her, but I physically cannot do anymore at this point. I’m struggling. I hate to admit it, but I’m utterly struggling.
“I know, I’m struggling to balance everything; it won’t always be like this. I promise,” I do my best to assure Elise, despite the fact there’s a chance I’m giving her an empty promise. “Are you staying the night with me? I prefer if you weren’t walking around campus at this time of night.”
Elise nods, “Yeah, your lights are out. These are the only candles I could find.” Elise gestures towards the candles that she kindly lit.
“I know,” I sigh. I am embarrassed that the power company cut off the lights. “I’ll pay the bill tomorrow morning. I forgot to send the damn check,” I mutter, gesturing towards my table that has the bills that I need to send off to be paid. I’ve been too busy worrying about my mother and sister’s statements that I have neglected my own. I can’t keep up. Physically and mentally, I am drained.
“The lights will be back on in an hour or so; I sorted that out for you,” Elise informs me as she sits up and rests her head on my shoulder, “You need to take it easy. You’re wearing yourself too thin.”
“Mhm,” I hum, “Easier said than done. My sister lost her job today, at least that’s what Mum said, I can’t take it easy. I need to keep working, so they don’t lose the house.”
“You’re going to lose yourself in the meantime, Harry.”
I lift my shoulders into a shrug. I’d rather lose myself than have my mother and sister lose their home and what they own. I’d rather lose myself than to see the two of them struggling. “I need to study and look over some client reports for Jamie. Go to bed, it’s late, and I know this couch isn’t as comfortable as the bed,” I gently nudge Elise.
“Will you join me? You did forget about our dinner date for the third time. The least you can do is join me.”
“Elle…” I sigh, “Give me an hour, and I’ll join you?” I compromise, deciding that I need at the very least an hour to half study and get Jamie’s stuff done. Elise has a point, I have neglected her, and the least I can do is hold her in bed for a little bit, even if it means holding her until she falls asleep and then carefully sliding away to finish off working. “Get some sleep; I’ll join you in a little,” I kiss her cheek before she stands to her feet. “You look beautiful, by the way,” I smile up at her, “Lucky man, I am.”
“Mhm, a lucky woman I am. Don’t stay up too long,” she responds, giving me a small smile before she makes her way to the bedroom.
I run my fingers through my tangled hair as I sit down on the edge of the couch and take a moment to breathe. My eyes are heavy and desperately want to close, the rest of my body would thank me if I would reward it with some rest, but I have to finish Jamie's written proposal he wants me to look over, and I need to study; I am surprised I’m not behind with my classes. However, it sure feels like my classes are kicking my ass. My master's degree seems so far out of reach at this point. I am debating whether I need to put a hold on the degree and focus on working and paying my mother's debts off.
Working with Jamie is exceptional, but taking the offer to New York would have more benefits money-wise, but I still can’t bring myself to move— even if the money is exceptional. There is something about up-rooting right now that leaves me uneasy. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to go, and it is almost like I have found comfort, a comfort I don’t want to give up even if it is just a few months. One day it won’t be this hard, and I won’t be working myself half to death to keep everyone afloat, but I have decisions to make until that day comes.
❈ ❈ ❈
The morning sun rays peeking through my blackout curtains are the first thing to begin to draw me from my slumber. I slowly open my eyes; my room’s blurry vision gradually comes into focus as I let out a heavy sigh.
For the first time in weeks, I managed to get more than a few hours of sleep, and to be honest, even with the extended amount of sleep I had, I don’t want to be awake right now. I want to pull the covers tightly around me and fall back into a blissful sleep where I don’t have to worry about finances and school.
I stretch my legs and my back, wincing slightly at their pain. I’m working myself half to death, and my body is telling me to fucking stop, but I can’t. My legs and back will have to deal with it for a little longer until things settle down.
I tilt my head to the right and read the time, eight-fifty; I have ten minutes to spare until the sound of my alarm blares through the quiet room.
I look over towards Elise, who is peacefully asleep, her body curled up and hogging all the blankets, typical. I smile to myself before moving closer and gently moving part of the white comforter away from her shoulder.
“Hey,” I whisper, leaning down and raining silky kisses to her bare shoulder, “Elle, it’s time to wake up,” I whisper, gently pulling her away from her sleepy state.
“I don’t want to get up,” she instantly mumbles with that sweet, nectarine voice of hers.
I chuckle against her soft skin and continue to wake her with sweet kisses, “Me either.”
Elise hums and nestles further into the softness of the comforter, her body furthermore curling into my own, “Good, let’s sleep,” Elise responds, pulling the covers before nuzzling closer to me. I smile to myself and drape my arm around her, allowing some time for some much needed morning cuddles and quietness.
I don’t remember the last time I was granted the opportunity to lay in bed without worrying about things. I still have something to worry about, but I feel a bit more at ease for the first time in a while; I don’t feel as consumed and suffocated— I feel like I can lay here and breathe without a heaviness weighing on my chest, taking me down.
“It is quite the shotgun wedding, don’t you think?” I question Elise as I tap my fingers on the bedsheets.
“Mhm, but what she wants, she gets, one way or another,” Elise sighs.
“Do you think she is pregnant? I can’t quite understand why else she would have been so hell-bent on getting married so damn quick.”
“I hope not,” Elise responds bitterly, “That would be horrible.” … “No offence to her but that would be a horrible way to trap that poor husband of hers, and she isn’t mother material.” Elise continues, being brutally honest with her opinion.
“Well, tell me how you really feel.” Elise is far from filled with me.
“I feel that this wedding is ridiculous, and I don’t know why the hell I am even attending.”
“Because she is your sister.” I remind Elise of her family duties.
“I’m not even in the bridal party.”
“Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing, love.” I smile at her, allowing her to take the covers as she dramatically pulls them from me.
“Mhm, whatever you say. I can already feel myself getting a migraine,” Elise mutters, and I chuckle to myself at her joke.
I can see the resentment in her eyes and the bitterness. I can understand why she’s against this wedding, mainly due to her sister's behaviour and attitude towards the marriage and Elise. Still, all family feud to the side, Elise should be the bigger person and be happy for her sister. If it were my sister, I know I’d do my best to find a more optimistic outcome. My sister is one second away from the looney bin, but I would do anything and drive miles to see her on her wedding day— a day where she is meant to be at her happiest.
“It won’t be too bad. Things could be worse, my darling,” I inform Elise as she wiggles closer to me, resting her head on my chest. I drape my arm around her and kiss the top of her head before allowing my fingers to run through her soft hair.
“You’re always so rational and calm. How? You’re so optimistic.”
I chuckle to myself, “Ha, I wouldn’t go that far. I try to see the lighter side of things… At least she isn’t an alcoholic or draining your bank account dry.”
Elise lifts her head off my chest and looks up at me, “Fair point,” Elise agrees, “One day, your sister won’t be like this. She will get better.”
“Now look who is being optimistic,” I chuckle, mocking her gently.
Elise rolls her eyes and shakes her head before kissing me gently.
❈ ❈ ❈
The wedding has been everything but functional. It is a lovely, practical wedding to the naked eye, but as someone who knows the family and can see the behind-the-scenes issues, this wedding is a shitshow. The ceremony was… lovely. I use the word lovely to be polite. Elise spent most of the ceremony rolling her eyes and turning to me out of irritation. I am not quite sure why Elle disapproves of the marriage, but I wonder if it has to do with the fact that nobody knows why her sister is marrying the man. I do have an inkling that the marriage is for money. She is a woman who craves money and power. She is a woman who knows how to get what she wants, and she uses her sex appeal and charm to get what she wants. From what I gathered from her portfolio, she has made horrible decisions in finances, and with investments, her parents refuse to pay for the lifestyles she wants. I think that her new husband is getting into something he will later regret. I don’t think he comes from a low-income family. He seems like a genuine guy who may have fallen for the wrong woman. As much as I try not to judge and try to convince Elise to be happy for her sister, I think there are more motives for this wedding. Elise’s sister wants money; it is evident. She made that clear the night she exposed Elise for having some sort of eight-hundred-thousand dollar investment; I think that is how much was stated. I am not quite sure, and it is none of my business. There is most definitely jealousy between the two and a lot of anger and resentment on both ends.
For some reason, Elise has been the one to have her parents on her side, whereas her sister appears to be the rebel child cut off from the money supply. Conrad, Elise’s father, wants nothing more than for Elise to take over his business and thrive in the business world, and he has not given his other daughter a second thought. I do not blame him. I wouldn’t trust the other daughter to look after a puppy, let alone a million-dollar business. Favouritism is evident. But that is no excuse for marrying for money and for behaving the way she does. Elouisa is just a woman I don’t want close to me but a woman I also don’t want too far. She can’t be underestimated. I haven't figured out her motive fully, but I will. Just like I do not know why I am in charge of fixing her portfolio, she has ruined it. Why suddenly does she want to set her financial struggles?
Is she trying to get back in her father’s graces in an attempt to get her hands on a fortune? I am not entirely sure.
What I do know is that I underestimated this family. I did not realise how wealthy they were, more specifically, how wealthy Elise’s parents are. This wedding has cost a fortune, more than the cost of my mother’s house and my car put together. This is almost like pocket change to the family. In a way, I do not fit in. I think I may have a thousand dollars in my bank account because my bills have not been taken out yet. I am sure by tomorrow I will have maybe a few hundred if I am lucky.
Jamie hands me a drink, and I look at him, unsure whether this is appropriate, he’s still my boss, and I try not to consume alcohol at business events. Even though this isn’t a business event, I feel pressure to be held to a high standard.
Jamie rolls his eyes, “Take it; we need to talk.”
I take the glass in my hand and take a drink, allowing the bourbon to run down my throat. Good choice on his end. “I have a business proposition for you.”
“Is now the right time to discuss this?” I instantly question, gesturing towards the fact we are at a family event— a wedding, to be precise.
Jamie chuckles and lifts his shoulders into a shrug, “It’s a shit show anyway. She thinks she’s getting her inheritance and marrying rich… the only good thing from this wedding is that its good publicity for mine and Conrad’s business.”
“How?” I curiously ask, unsure of how this is publicity.
“Half the men in this area are businessmen, the woman in the corner is a journalist.”
“Are you telling me this is a publicity stunt for your business?”
Jamie goes quiet for a moment before staring me dead in the eye, “I love my niece, but she is like a dog with a bone, she wanted extra money, Conrad needed a bit of good publicity in the media spotlight, they both somewhat got what they wanted.”
“So… he used his daughter for his gain?”
“Businessmen, we can be ruthless,” Jamie responds, “She’s the one who agreed to it and signed the contract binding her. She should learn to read the fine print. That’s beside the point,” Jamie shakes his head.
“Are you telling me Elise may be used as publicity?” I instantly ask, not liking the idea of the daughters being used as publicity. I don’t want Elise used as publicity; I know she doesn’t want to participate in that stunt.
“Hmmm, perhaps, but unlikely. I want to offer you a proposition…”
“Go ahead,” I nod, eager to listen to what he has to offer.
“I know you don’t want to move to New York, so here’s what I’ve come up with… If you can land me my high profile client tomorrow morning, I will hire you full time.”
“What about the internship?”
“I’ll sign off on the hours and talk to your Uni and make an agreement. The internship doesn’t pay much, Harry, forget it. I want you full time at my office; you’ve proven that you would be a great asset, you wouldn’t have to keep working at Burberry and running yourself thin.”
I take another sip of my drink and nod my head, “Sir, all due respect, but did Elise put you up to this?” I softly ask, unsure if I am getting this opportunity due to my performance due to who I am dating. I don’t want a leg up in the business, and I don’t want anyone to think that I am getting a handout by any means. I want to earn everything that I am to receive. I do not want it handed to me out of pity.
“No,” Jamie instantly responds, “Your relationship with her has nothing to do with the offer. However, Conrad did tell me if I didn’t hire you, he would. He saw how you flipped last week's portfolio and was impressed with your meetings over the summer.”
“This is something to consider. Conrad doesn’t exactly have faith in my success.” I acknowledge, unsure of how I feel about the situation. Conrad has not expressed any interest in me. He, at one point, didn’t think I was good enough for Elise and assumed I was using her for Jamie. “If I may ask how much are you offering to pay?”
Jamie cocks his head to the side and thinks for a moment, “Two-hundred and fifty. Also, at first, he thought you wanted a step up in the world. Now he sees you genuinely love his daughter and don’t need our help.”
“Pounds?”
“No, Euro’s,” Jamie laughs, “Yes, pounds, what other currency would I pay in?”
“That’s a low ball… I make that working at Burberry. Two-hundred pounds won’t even pay my light bill.”
“Two hundred and fifty thousand pounds for the rest of this year, idiot.” Jamie laughs, shaking his head.
“Oh, that’s—oh.” I trail off, at a complete loss for words. I did not expect such figures.
Jamie hums, “I’d say those figures are pretty good for only the next three months.” … “But, you have to land tomorrow’s client plus three out of five I have scheduled for the next three months. If you can land me all five, I’ll give you an end of year bonus, and we can further discuss your salary for the coming year. I will work around your school schedule the best I can, but if I call you at three in the morning, you better get up and come to the office, or if I call you at eleven at night and tell you to pack a bag, you better meet me at the airport. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I nod, “Can I have all this in writing? In which I’ll read the fine print.”
Jamie nods, “I’ll have it written up for you to sign tomorrow morning.”
“How much travelling is involved in the next three months?”
“For the next three months, any travelling I’ll say is part of your internship, so you’re not marked as absent from class, but to answer your question, we have to go back to New York, and I have a client in France. No more than three day stays so you’ll be able to do school work.”
“Draw the papers up, and we can go over them tomorrow,” I agree.
Perhaps if this all goes through, I won't have to worry about my mother and sisters bills as much. They’ll quickly be paid for. I want to smile and show my excitement, but I prefer to hold my composure as a businessman.
“I’ll have a tailor in the office tomorrow so you can pick two new suits out.”
“Oh… is something wrong with the ones I have?” I question, unsure why I need new suits, the ones I have a perfectly fine.
“No… well, just take the damn things. Every good person in business deserves a nice and expensive suit. It’s included with the proposition.”
“Next, you’re going to offer me a new set of keys,” I laugh.
“I would, but then you’d accuse me of giving you special treatment.”
“I don’t want special treatment, and you know that.”
“There is a company car, but you haven’t earned it yet. Now, smile for the camera and don’t say a word about this to anyone.” Jamie points to the photographer and journalist who are standing side by side, taking photos of us.
I glare at Jamie, “Did you use me for—“
“No, you idiot, not for publicity.” Jamie informs me, “Now go off and tell Elise the news. Maybe it’ll make her smile since she hates this shit show like the rest of us.”
“You just told me not to tell anyone.” I point out what he specifically said.
“Your partner doesn’t count,” Jamie responds, walking away from me without saying another word.
I grin to myself, proud that I am starting to accomplish things that I thought were still out of my grasps.
I scan the room, my eyes searching for the brunette with waterfall curls in a burgundy red dress that compliments her in every way possible. She isn’t at the bar drowning her anger for having to waste her day on this wedding while surrounded by her family, and she is nowhere near the bride, who seems to be making her way around the room, probably asking for donations of money.
I have no clue why the groom is marrying her, and he seems far too friendly and genuine; perhaps his family are forcing him to marry her because of her family? We all know they have money; Conrad is one hell of an international businessman. Before I knew Elise, I knew Conrad and Jamie, but I didn’t realise how powerful they were until I did some research and saw firsthand their power. I hope to one day be as powerful as they are and to be as successful. Elise and her sister are two different breeds. Elise is humble, and until she told me, I had no clue who her family was and how wealthy they were. She has nice things, but she holds herself in a manner that you just assume she’s lucky enough to be able to afford designer shoes and clothes…
As for Elise’s sister, she flaunts everything, and she knows she comes from money, and she makes sure everybody knows it. She doesn't seem to care who she walks over to get her way. It was proof she didn’t care when she tried to flirt with me in New York over her file.
I gaze down at my phone for a brief moment and perceive my mothers contact on my screen and a short message that reads: “Your sister quit her job, I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s on a downhill spiral. She wasn’t fired, as she said… She quit,”
I heavily sigh and place my phone back in my pocket. There’s only so much I can take before I know I need to compose myself and come back to the issues later. I want to focus on smiling and being present for this wedding. My problems are on hold until further notice.
I touch my drink to my lips, and my eyes come in focus with Elise as she wanders closer to me, resting in front of me with her sweet smile, “You here alone?” She questions cheekily.
“I could be,” I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “Are you offering anything?”
“Mhm,” Elise hums, placing her hands on my hips, and I drape one arm to rest around her and draw her into me.
“I have good news,” I begin, her hand reaching for my drink, and I hand it to her, “You won’t like it. It’s straight Bourbon.” I inform her, “But, your Uncle offered me a full-time position in his business.”
“That is great,” Elise exclaims with a smirk, “So, you’re an actual businessman now, right?”
I nod my head, “Well, I will be once I sign the paperwork tomorrow…”
“Harry, that is great; I am so proud of you, that’s a huge deal. Jamie rarely hires interns.” Elise happily grins before leaning up and kissing me.
“Thank you, at least now I will be able to afford my lights,” I chuckle, lightheartedly making fun of myself and my situations, “I will be able to pay off most of the last of my mother’s house and my sister’s car.”
“This is so good, babe. Since you are officially a businessman, do you think you can help me with my stock decisions? My father is still on my ass about it.”
“I told you I would,” I nod my head. “Doesn’t seem like you need help from what I hear you made quite the good investment,” I bring up the minor fact she is somewhat sitting on a pile of money that she seems to ignore.
“We should celebrate,” Elise grins, “Let’s go.” Elise avoids my comment, wanting nothing more than leaving the venue and getting me alone with her.
I heavily sigh, “Elle, it’s your sister's wedding.” If this were any other situation, I would consider leaving a lot more. I do have a twitching never inside me that wants to unzip that impressive dress and leave it on the floor.
“We should celebrate… I mean… I have a horrible migraine coming on. Look, nobody will care or notice.”
“Where are we going?” I question, taking my glass from her hand and drinking the last of my bourbon.
Elise’s lips curve up into a mischievous smile, “Hotel room?”
“The hotels in this area… I can’t afford,” I inform Elise, entirely honest with her. We aren’t exactly in a middle-class area. I don’t even want to know how much a cab in this area costs. It isn’t that I can’t afford it; per se, I can. I prefer not to pay because I like to keep extra money in my savings in an emergency.
“I’ll pay, come on, let’s go, please?”
I shake my head, “I don’t think anything good is going to come from a hotel room, Elle, in all honesty,” I inform her, well aware that she wants to wait. There is no way I will allow her to pay if we get a hotel room, I am a gentleman, and I will be damned if I will enable her to pay for a hotel room.
Elise bites her lip and shrugs her shoulders before cocking her head to the side, “And what if something good does come from it?”
“I don’t think you’re understanding,” I shake my head and lean closer to her, my lips brushing against her ear, “I want that dress on the floor.”
Elise smirks and nods her head, subtly, “Glad we want the same thing.”
I stare at her with my jaw dropped, unsure of what to say or do. The temptation is standing right in front of me, and the fire inside me is urging me to take the offer. I can’t tell if she is serious or if she is teasing me. Either way, I do want to find out. My lips curve into a grin, and my eyes cast to her dewy eyes that captivate me.
I shake my head and let out a breath, “Think the first time should be romantic.”
“Can’t get more romantic than a wedding,” Elise grins, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from the bar to follow her, giving me no chance to rebut her requests and force of nature.
Elise and I weave in and out of the guests in the room, smiling and saying quick hellos and goodbyes, all at once. I am stopped by a man who seems familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on where I know him from. I nod my head, and he shakes my hand as Elise lets go of my hand and continues walking.
“Harry, is it?” the man questions.
“Yes, sir,” I nod, “And you are?”
The man smiles cockily, “You don’t know who I am?”
“All due respect, if I did, I wouldn’t have asked the question,” I bluntly point out, not too thrilled with the man who I can see is a cocky businessman. His demeanour is bothersome.
“I manage portfolios. Would you be interested in a portfolio manager?” The man questions.
Is he serious? I don’t expect people to know that I work in the industry, but I expect them not to do business at a wedding.
I shake my head, “If you’re looking for the appropriate level of risk based on my time horizon, risk preferences, return expectations, and market conditions, you are not going to get too far with me,” I inform him, taking him by surprise with my response.
I can only imagine he did not realise that I know about portfolio managing. Perhaps he thought I was just some young lad at a rich wedding. I do not have much to manage right now, and even if I did, I would handle it myself. The next thing on my list to do is build my portfolio and start playing with the stock market when I have enough money to spare.
The man raises a brow and cocks his head to the side, “You know about portfolios, I see.”
“Indeed,” I nod my head, trying to read this man. He seems as though he targeted me for a specific reason, but for what that reason is, I do not know.
“Archibald, why are you bothering Mr Styles? I thought we agreed that there was to be no bartering of employees?” Jamie interrupts the two of us, coming out of nowhere and standing beside me.
“Cartier,” Archibald greets, “I thought he was just a wedding guest, just networking.”
“Network elsewhere. He is not on the market,” Jamie instructs, “Neither is my niece; leave her alone.”
“Oh, come on,” Archibald laughs, “You gave me the niece that has a horrible portfolio. I just want to help.”
“No, how’s the wife, though?” Jamie diverts the conversation topic, diverting towards a lighter note. I can’t quite tell if they are friends but in the business world, enemies, or hold a facade-up.
“Before you two continue, I am going to excuse myself,” I smile, not wanting to participate in their business feud or their conversation about their wives. I do not care about their personal lives. Right now, I don’t need to attend to their personal life.
Jamie glances at me, “And where are you going? It would be best if you were networking,” Jamie informs me.
I would utilise this opportunity to network and do as he commands, but I am off-duty, and to be quite honest, I don’t believe this is the time or place for business. Whether we all agree on this wedding proceeding, I don’t think it should be employed for business publications of any sorts. “I would love to,” I begin, “But Elise isn’t feeling too well, and she wants to leave. I better find her.”
“You’re driving home? At this hour? You won’t get back to London until after one in the morning.”
I shrug my shoulders, “Her wish is my command. However, I am not sure what she wants to do. Enjoy the rest of your night and networking,” I pet Jamie’s shoulder before making a swift getaway, making sure not to look back as I walk away. I weave in and out of the crowd and nestle away, unobtrusively, at the reception desk.
❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈
At the reception, I took it upon myself to put myself in more of a financial struggle and get a hotel for Elise and me. At this point, we both deserve a lovely evening away from people. This wedding is a shit show; there is no point in us hanging around to be part of the publicity stunt. I have no interest in discussing business much further, nor do I desire to continue faking smiles around people who just want to make some extra money off guests at the wedding.
I discover Elise, who doesn’t have that rich gaze to her eyes and the felicity smile that’s contagious, “Darling, what’s wrong?” I immediately ask, taking her hand and pulling her a little closer to me.
“Did you know?” Elise’s voice is soft.
“Know?” I’m unsure of what she’s referring to.
“It’s all a stunt.”
“What?”
“This is just a business deal? This is one big business parade, and my Dad is even in on it. Are you in on it?” Elise asks, and I shake my head.
In all honesty, I just found out an hour ago. I didn’t know the details of the setup, “No, Elise, I just found out. I think there’s more to the story.”
“It’s my sister’s wedding. You don’t use business at a wedding.”
“Elle, I think you should talk to your Dad about it before getting angry.”
Elise heavily huffs, disappointed and exasperated at what she has found out. “There’s a time and place for business, and this isn’t it. I’m appalled.”
I nod my head and agree with her. “Harry, I hope you don’t ever pull something like this, turning a family event into business.”
I shake my head, “I don’t intend to. And we aren’t getting married for quite some time, so we don’t need to cross that bridge.”
Elise raises a brow, and instantly I know I’ve fucked up. It came out wrong. “Ah shit,” I sigh, well aware that I’m fucked, and not in the way I had hoped. “I just mean we aren’t getting married.” … “I mean...I don’t see us getting married soon… fuck.. I’m just making it worse.”
“Well, I am glad you aren’t turning our nonexistent wedding into a business meeting… and that you don’t plan to get married any time soon.” Elise crosses her arms over her chest.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Here we go.
“I just don’t think I want to get married until after school and until I’m established financially, nothing I say will make this conversation sound better, but in all honesty, I can’t afford a nice ring, so until I can afford a nice ring for you, we aren’t getting married, but if you would like to leave, we can,” I half-smile, trying to make my words sound a little better.
In all fairness, I don’t know what I want when it comes to marriage, I’ve seen what my mother went through, and I don’t want that sort of life. Granted, I’m aware not all marriages end horribly, but it’s a fear that lingers in the back of my head. I don’t know if I’ll make a good husband. After marriage comes children, and I know for sure, I do not want children. I can’t bear the thought of that right now. Marriage is a bit more realistic, but I still don’t think I’m at the mental capacity to handle it. Marriage is not only a big commitment but extremely expensive, I can’t afford a ring, and I don’t have a house for us to live in. I don’t want to propose with a shit ring and a small apartment while I have my mothers debts to pay off and a drunk father who enjoys causing havoc on my life.
“Harry,” Elise finally cracks a smile, “I get it; we aren’t ready for that step. Stop stammering and panicking. We should probably say goodbye.”
“Elle, honey, your Dad is talking business, your uncle is doing the same, your mother is half-drunk at the bar, and the groom is nowhere to be found. Nobody will notice us missing, c’mon.” I gesture towards the golden doors that will lead us out of the reception area and take us to the gardens that separate us from the second tower to the hotel.
Elise shakes her head and takes my hand, drawing me towards her Mother and forcing us to do a round of polite ‘goodbyes.’ I smile towards Elise’s mother, Cathleen, giving her a warm hug while I have a brief moment.
“Harry, dear,” Cathleen beams, “Are you two next for a wedding or will I have time to recover from this wedding?” Elise’s mother questions while holding her mixed drink and bringing it closer to her lips for a quick sip.
“Uhm,” I hum, not sure how to answer her question. I love her daughter, but I am nowhere near ready for marriage. I think we have a few years before being prepared for marriage. My goal is to have my business successful and to thrive before proposing. “I think you have some time before our wedding plans come around,” I chuckle nervously. I do not want to have this conversation, and I don’t want Elise getting upset that our hypothetical wedding is postponed a few years.
Cathleen nods her head and caresses her hand to my cheek before petting it softly, “Good boy, take it slow. Elise, I like this; keep him around.”
“I am trying, but he won’t marry me.”
“Hey, that is not what I said,” I quickly defend myself, but I settle down the moment I catch Elise’s smile— she is only joking— phew.
“Maybe one day, Mum.” Elise grins towards her mother.
I nod my head. I like the sound of maybe one day. Possibly one day, I will be able to afford a ring, maybe one day, I will be a CEO, maybe one day we will have the life we have both imagined. Possibly one day, Elise will be my wife. Until that day, I will settle with taking things slow and taking it day by day.
Elouisa takes me by surprise when she takes Cathleen’s drink and interrupts the three of us, “Mum, don’t you think you have had enough?”
“Elouisa, kindly, fuck off,” Cathleen mutters, “I am old enough to decide how much I want to drink.”
I try to keep a face straight. But I am highly surprised by Cathleen's tone, I didn’t think she would be the type to swear at her daughters, but I can assume there has been some sort of disagreements while I have been mingling with the men and staying away from the immediate family.
I place an arm around Elise and clear my throat, “We are about to leave, Elouisa.”
“Why?” Elouisa questions, placing her hand on her hip.
“We just are; congratulations.” Elise politely informs her sister, “You looked beautiful today.”
Elouisa looks towards Elise and narrows her eyes, “Always gotta be dramatic, you can’t just stay and not make an early exit? Maybe not make it about you?”
Before Elise can respond, I shake my head, “She’s feeling unwell, that’s all, Elouisa. Your revised file will be on your Uncles desk by Monday morning at seven for you.”
“As requested,” Elouisa nods, finally cracking a smile, “Punctual, I see.”
“Always. Goodbye,” I dismiss Elouisa, offering a smile to Cathleen before escorting Elise and myself away.
Elise and I walk the beautiful marble flooring, flooring that I’d like to have in my building one day. Elise’s heels sound against the flooring, and the hem of her dress glides swiftly over the cold stone. I lose myself in my thoughts. The sudden realisation that I will be picking up my sister’s slack hits me. With my sister quitting her job, that is extra expenses that I have to pay, and it’s more work for me. I am not sure what caused her to spiral to this extent, and I am not sure how to fix her. I don’t know how to heal myself, let alone repairing my sister, who doesn’t want help. There is an old saying, “You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink.” I have tried my best to lead her to water; I have helped all that I can, now my hands are tied. All I can do is help my mother and keep paying the bills, but there isn’t enough of me to go around to everyone. I cannot fix my sister, and I don’t know how to improve myself. There are twenty-four hours in a day, and it isn’t enough.
“I uh, I know you don’t want me sticking up for you, but I couldn’t help it. I am sorry for telling Elouisa you were unwell.”
“It is okay, and she would have made a scene if you hadn’t,” Elise responds, “What’s on your mind? You went quiet for a minute.”
I heavily sigh, not wanting to turn the night into a pity party. My thoughts are running rampage through my head, and I am not sure how to stop them. I am overwhelmed and stressed. It all seems to come in waves. “Nothin’ to worry about, Elle,” I respond while we step into the elevator. “Just school, you know how it is.”
“Mhm,” Elise hums, “We don’t have to worry about school for a few more hours.”
“Ah, yeah,” I nod, wishing she was right. Well, she is technically right. I don’t have to deal with school until Monday, but I have work and school all in one, in between classes, I am at the office— I am never going to sleep. I have a research paper in Management Studies due Monday at midnight about Pension Funds. I am currently regretting all decisions of pursuing a masters in Business. Raising capital from investors, which range from individuals and corporates to pension funds, and allocate investments efficiently across global capital markets, might be the death of me.
The elevator door opens, and we both step out onto the red carpet. “Room 21, Elle,” I inform her, both of us looking at the sign for directions on which way to go. “To the end,” I gesture, noticing the golden numbers. My phone fills the silence between us, and I dig into my jacket pocket. “I have to answer this,” I inform Elise, not wanting to seem rude, but I have no choice.
“Harry Styles, speaking,” I answer the phone, trying to keep my nerves under control as the man on the other end greets me. I knew one of Jamie’s clients would be calling me soon to discuss business, but I did not believe it would be this soon or tonight. I am unsure whether this is a test Jamie has set up or what, but either way, I plan to make a good impression and answer all questions the client may have for me. “No, sir, I look at trajectories and connect how events could impact market activities. Right now, there is no severe market activity for you to worry about specifically to your file.” I inform my client straight off the back, unsure of how well this conversation will go if he is already questioning my performance itself rather than questioning his investment options.
Elise clasps her hands to my tie and tugs on it carelessly, her eyes gleaming as she gradually unravels my tie, enabling it to drop to the hotel floor before nonchalantly unbuttoning my shirt, “No, so open-end funds have no predetermined amount of stocks outstanding, and they can buy back or issue new shares at any point,” I ignore Elise, keeping my attention on my conversation with the client. “Yes, sir. Your best bet for that would be to go with what we discussed earlier.”
Elise sighs before unbuttoning the rest of my shirt and caressing her hand to my abs, trailing her hand up to my shoulders before squeezing my shoulder tenderly. “I would hold off on buying those stocks until the market is steadier. I also wouldn’t sell right now, sir.” I again neglect Elise. “You need a more diverse portfolio.”
Elise is far from amused by my lack of interest, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself at her expression. She steps closer and closes the space between us before leaving sweet kisses on my collarbone, moving slowly towards my neck. “Yes, you are diverse with stocks, but a diverse portfolio includes other avenues.” I cock my head to the side, my breath hitching in my throat for a moment as she suckles on my fevered skin, making it hard to ignore her. She is not going to let me finish this call efficiently. “I would consider working with Bonds if I was you; they have a fixed rate of return and is a safe option right now.”
I swallow hard, and Elise manoeuvres her hand down my body before she rests her hand at the waistband of my pants. “The UK’s possible departure from the European Union in later years will not impact its position as a preeminent centre of excellence for investment management. I am not worried about what could happen in the next few years. I am worried about now. I am worried about this year, 2015 and the coming 2016 year. You are fine with your stocks. I would keep them as they are, move to add Bonds, sir. It will greatly help your situation.”
Elise tantalises me for a moment, and my hand drops to the small of her back. “If you put all your money in small-cap stocks and they don’t perform well for a decade, that would really hinder you.” This man is proving to be slightly difficult, attempting to claim he knows better. If he knew better, he wouldn’t be in the situation he is in and requiring our resources. “Perhaps two-thirds inequity and one-third in fixed income.” Elise inches closer and presses herself against me, tampering with my sanity. “Investing in only one category is dangerous over the long term. This is where the all-important concept of asset allocation comes into play. This is where I come into things. I assist you with asset allocation.” I clear my throat and sit down on the edge of the bed, Elise falling to straddle me at my hips. “Yes, sir, I agree. This way, even if a portion of your portfolio is declining, the rest of your portfolio is more likely to be growing,” I clear my throat, desperately attempting to stay attentive to my phone call. “Yes, I can meet you at four on Tuesday,” I concur to a meeting, finally.
“Sir, I uh,” I stutter, “The expected risk for your equity is twenty-per cent, there is always a risk, but there is a twenty-five per cent expected return.” Elise is making this so fucking difficult to concentrate. As much as this is a great opportunity, I thought I had more self control than this… “I cannot estimate the merits of your investments without seeing your file in front of me. Nobody wants a ballpark figure when it comes to this set of finances.” I don’t care about ballpark figures. You either tell someone the total amount or keep your mouth shut until you have full evidence and models. I will not run my business on ballpark figures. Elise pushes the material of my shirt off my shoulders and forces it off of me and throwing it to the floor.
“You don’t want anything high risk as of now. The lower the dispersion in the returns, the greater the accumulated value of equal investments. You’re already at that line of playing with fire with high risks.” … “I don’t have Common strategic perspectives. Of course, The UK is the largest investment management centre in Europe with a market share of 37%. I can give you a better idea of the figures at our meeting, Tuesday.” I do my best to end the phone call, this client is a priority, but I have additional obligations that need to be tended to right now.
I throw my phone to land somewhere on the bed, “Elise Noelle Cartier, you are distracting,” I chuckle sweetly, and she gives me a naughty smile.
I take control of the situation and kiss Elise, boldly caressing her body with my hands and feeling every dip and curve her body has to offer. She has beckoned me like a siren’s song. Her kisses hold a promise of fulfilment, the fulfilment I am yearning for.
I draw away from our kiss and press my forehead to hers, “Are you okay? Is this what you want?” I softly ask, not wanting to go any further without making sure she one-hundred per cent wants this.
My desires mean nothing if at any point she wishes to back out. We do not have to go any further. I have no issue not going further. “Yes. Is this what you want?”
“Elle, I want you to be comfortable.”
Elise smiles and nods her head, kissing me and taking my full attention. An unchaining wild, delicious feeling takes over, and I glide my hand to trail the life zip of her dress. I accept the small zip between my fingertips and pull it down, allowing the material to loosen before the thin straps fall down her shoulders. I grab a fistful of the dress before pulling it up and over her head, throwing it to settle to the floor of the hotel room...
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White Lies (Pt. 12 of 21)
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Pairing: Keanu Reeves X Reader
Word count: 2.2 K
Summary: Keanu found the girl almost dead, in the wrecks of what was once her car. While she was in surgery, stuck in a coma, he gathered the best doctors of New York to attend to her. They told him she is likely to have some kind of brain damage, what may lead to memory loss. And this possibility added up wit the fact that she's pregnant, made the council come up with an odd idea. They asked Keanu to pretend to be her husband, since the stress of finding out everything that happened could put the baby in danger. He reluctantly agreed, but only if she does has some kind of memory loss. He still goes she'll wake up soon, with her memories intact.
But when you finally wake up, there's nothing inside. You're quick to find your head is empty, void, like a blank canvas. The only thing that brings you some relief, that makes you feel less lonely is the mention of a husband. And you can't wait to meet him, because you know you can't deal with this by yourself.
<- Previous part (11)
Next part (13) ->
{Keanu Reeves Masterlist}
{John Wick Masterlist}
×
Honeymoon
Keanu silently enters the bedroom, his eyes immediately finding her, on the balcony. With her hands on the glass railing, her attention is on the beach outside. He struggled a lot to rent this house, but he wanted the best for her. It's beautiful, slightly isolated for privacy, and if they walk out the back door, they'll be with their feet on the sand.
He doesn't want to think much about what comes after this trip. He only prays that what's left of these two weeks will go by slowly, so he'll have more time with her before... Before whatever comes next. (Y/N) doesn't know the reason for all his schedules, the reason behind all these places he's taking her. She lived her childhood here, in a neighborhood half an hour from this house. Keanu had to ask Laura for help, to know the places to go. Laura doesn't think he should tell her yet, but he can't do this anymore. He can't do this to her.
The wind messes with her hair, and he's happy the weather helped. The sky is clear, in an amazing shade of blue with only a few clouds that make it look like a painting. Taking his phone from his pocket, he snaps a picture of her, and the clicking noise gives away his presence, and (Y/N) turns around, a smile on her lips.
“What are you doing?” She asks, making her way back inside the bedroom, walking over until she's standing before him, head raised to look into his eyes.
“You're so beautiful, I had to take a picture.” A picture he'll keep, to mend his broken heart when this is over.
“Then why do you look so sad?” The question makes him realize he's been letting it show. And that's not supposed to happen.
“I'm not. I'm so happy to be here with you that I can't even put it in words.” It makes her smile grow brighter, and Keanu feels like he could live the rest of his days just looking at her.
“So am I.” She grabs his sides, hands full of the fabric of his shirt. (Y/N) always does that, like she's asking for his attention. As if she didn't have all of it. But he finds it cute, and it never fails to warm up his heart. “Where are we going today?”
“We're staying home. The doctors said to take things slow, remember?” With a hand, he cups her cheek, thumb rubbing her soft skin.
“But it's only been three days and I'm completely fine.”
“I know. But will it be so bad to stay in today? With me?” The words make her giggle, as she tiptoes, beautiful, pink lips chasing his.
“It would be amazing, as are all my days with you.” Bending down, he kisses her, the taste of her lips almost too much for him to deal with. Overwhelming, inebriating. And Keanu is addicted. If only she was his. Truly, completely his, to love and cherish, for the rest of his life...
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You move to the bed with Keanu, and you quickly settle down. But you're not in the mood to just lie there, and since he doesn't want to take you out, it's the perfect day to do something fun in the house. “I have an idea.” Smirking, you climb on him, straddling his hips with each arm on the sides of his head. This is always a funny position since Keanu is a lot taller than you. Staring him from above is a nice change.
“Let's hear it.”
“There's a pool here so... We should go for a swim.” Keanu raises his eyebrows, a little surprised since you can't swim at all. But that's not where the whole idea ends. “Naked.”
“What?” The funny expression on his face makes you giggle. “Say that again.”
“Let's swim naked.” Sitting up straight, you shrug your shoulders.
“Sweetheart, you know drones exist right? The chances are small but never zero.” Keanu lightly holds your hips. “But we can go to the pool in normal swimsuits and take a bath in the tub after. And then get naked.”
“Uhm...” Looking away, you fake a thoughtful face. “The whole point is to get naked so why don't we just skip the pool and hit the tub?” Without waiting for an answer, you get off the bed, giving him a look before heading to the bathroom. You can't hold back the smile when you hear him following you.
•••
With you back resting against Keanu's chest, you relax in the warm water, even though the temperature is lowering. You have both your hands on your belly as Keanu places soft kisses on your neck and shoulder. You're still catching your breath, but you'll never tell him you get more tired with time. It's the baby, the doctors said, it's normal to feel a bit more tired than normal as time passes.
“So we have decided on the name.” He says, and you nod. “Sophie or Liam.”
“Sophie or Liam Reeves.” You agree, testing how the names sound. “I can't wait to find out which name we'll be using.”
“Me neither.”
Smiling, you feel a funny sensation. Like a pressure, a movement. Quickly, you place your hand on the right side of your belly, bellow the bellybutton, suddenly worried, and just about to tell Keanu something's wrong when you feel it. A soft, little kick under your hand. “Oh my God.” You mumble, barely able to hear yourself.
“What? What's wrong?”
Without saying anything, you take his hand, placing it on the right spot, hoping, waiting the baby will do it again, apprehension forcing both of you into silence. Then, you feel it, and you turn your head a little to look into his eyes. Keanu looks... Amazed. Blissful.
“Our baby is kicking, Ke.” You whisper, unable to hold back the smile.
“I love you.” He says, eyes set in yours, right before repeating the sentence to your swollen stomach. “And I love you too.”
Turning back around, you lie against him once more, hands above his. “I can't believe it. This amount of happiness is... Unbelievable.”
“You're beautiful, do you know that?”
Furrowing your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, you chuckle, cheeks heating up. “Why that now?”
“I just need you to know.”
Taking a deep breath, you move, once again straddling his hip, making small ripples on the water. “And you are so unbelievably handsome sometimes I wonder if you're real.” Running a hand through his jaw, you feel his stubble under your fingertips. “I love your beard. And your hair.” As you speak, you distribute kisses through his face. “Your face, your body, your voice. The kindness, gentleness, and honesty.” Keanu suddenly moves underneath you, as if bit by something. “What?”
“Nothing, beautiful. It's nothing.” Smiling, he kisses your lips. “Wanna take a walk on the beach?”
“Mhmm.” You agree, kissing him once again before standing up and leaving the tub, grabbing a towel. You're not anxious this time, eager to cover up. You feel comfortable around Keanu, and even if sometimes you still feel self-conscious, he's always there to reassure you he finds you beautiful. So it's not a problem anymore, to let him see your body. “I'll wear that dress you bought me.” You say, letting your hair down from the loose bun as you dry yourself.
“I'm sure you'll look gorgeous.”
“Maybe.” You mutter, winking at him before leaving the bathroom.
Half an hour later you're seating shotgun as Keanu drives through a cute street with colorful houses. You snap some pictures of the place, wondering why he took this route. Probably he thought you'd like the neighborhood, and he was right. “It's beautiful here.” You tell him, stealing a glance.
“It is.” After the short answer, he goes silent again for some seconds. “Let's stop here.”
“Alright.” He parks the car and you jump out, immediately kicking your shoes off and starting to walk on the sand.
“Do you want an ice cream?” Keanu asks, gesturing at a small store nearby.
“Yup.” Nodding, you smile as he tells you he'll be right back.
Moving closer to the water, a hand holding your sandals and the other keeping the hair off your face, you let the ripples reach your feet. The water is a bit cold, but you enjoy it.
“(Y/N)?” An unfamiliar voice calls, and you immediately turn at the source of the sound. A short, blond-haired guy is smiling at you, a hand protecting his eyes from the sun. “(Y/N), I... I heard about you but I didn't believe it.”
“Uhm... Sorry. Do I know you?”
The question lights up his face with recognition. “Oh, yeah. For a moment I forgot about the accident. I'm Michael. We were friends when we were younger. We went to Elementary school together.”
Your existence is not a mystery anymore. The news channel already showed your face more than once, and some magazines and online blogs talk about you every once in a while. Keanu Reeves' secret wife, with a child on the way. So it's not really a secret anymore. “I have a childhood friend in New York. Do you happen to know her name?” You decide to check since Laura has been your friend since kinder garden.
“Laura Marshal. I remember her.” The man rubs his neck, squinting his eyes. “We dated for like a month.”
“So you're that Michael.” Smiling, you offer your hand and he happily shakes it. “Sorry for not remembering.”
“No, don't even say that. What happened to you sucks. I mean, the accident.” He speaks fast, and you giggle.
“No need to sugar coat it. You can talk openly about the memory loss, I'm alright with it.”
“Yeah. But after I heard about the accident, which was horrible, let's make this clear, I couldn't believe what the news channels were saying about you and Keanu freaking Reeves.” Michael says his name in a lower voice, stepping closer as if telling a secret.
“Well, nobody knew about the marriage because we wanted to keep it private for as long as we could.” That's always the question that follows. People still find it insane how you just came out of nowhere, being Keanu's wife. “But with everything that happened, accident, memory, the baby, it would be quite difficult to keep it in the shadows.”
He makes a funny face, furrowing his eyebrows. “But that's not it, Uhm... Weren't you with Daniel?”
The name doesn't sound too strange, and after some seconds, you remember Lucia saying something about a Daniel... Yeah, she asked if you were considering the name for the baby and if it meant anything to you. “I don't know anything about a Daniel. Was he my friend too?”
“(Y/N), you and Daniel were–” Michael stops talking suddenly, eyes on something behind you. At someone.
Chuckling, you know who he's staring at. Turning around, you smile at Keanu. “Hey, babe. Come meet my friend, Michael.”
“Holy shit.” The guy mutters under his breath.
“I think he might need a selfie.” Shrugging your shoulders, you take the ice cream from his hands and start licking it.
“Hi. It's nice to meet you.” Your husband politely says, shaking Michael's hand. “You want a picture?”
“Please. I love Matrix. It's like my favorite movie. I'm such a big fan.”
Rolling your eyes, you take Michael's phone and snaps a couple of pictures of him and Keanu. The afternoon passes by with you three chatting. Michael is still quite impressed to be seeing Keanu face to face, and it makes you giggle every once in a while. When the night starts to fall, you say goodbye and head back to the house.
The trip does have this honeymoon style. It's just you and Keanu most of the time, even though Michael introduces you to two more people, Amanda and Kyle, who also claim to know you. Your husband eventually said that you grew up in this town, and he wanted you to see it. It does make you a little sad that you don't remember any of it, but Keanu soon makes you forget these thoughts. He's always so kind and loving, you didn't think it was possible to fall further in love with him, but that's exactly what happens.
Somehow you managed to convince your husband on staying one more week. It took some begging and creativity, and of course, some video calls with your doctors, but it worked in the end.
But the day comes when you're packing your things, just about to head off to the airport. You just finished with your baggage and answered a call from Michael, who wanted to say goodbye and ask you to bring Laura next time. You happily agree before hanging up, and that's when you remember the person he mentioned. The same Lucia made a big deal of. Waiting for Keanu to finish his shower, you scroll through your phone, eyes moving to the bathroom door when it opens.
“Hey, Ke.” You mutter, getting up to your feet. “Do you know someone named Daniel?” At the mention of the name, Keanu gets tense. You notice he tries to hide it, but it's crystal clear to you. It just makes everything stranger. “Michael mentioned a Daniel and so did Lucia.”
“Yeah, I know...” He mutters, avoiding your gaze.
“Ke, you're scaring me. Who the hell is this Daniel?”
×
@multific @inumorph @aestheticallywinchester @bvbwestfall @liviiii98 @allie1804-fan @gian-giannina @playboygeniusphilanthropist @partypoison00 @mariafetamina @fortheloveoffanfic @trin303
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ebonyyyy-e · 28 days ago
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The Little Things
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*gif credits go to the owner*
a/n : hi bitches! so i decided to write another imagine again. I’ve wanted to start writing for the longest so I’m trying to get back into it again. hopefully this imagine is good, I'm not the best when it comes to writing so please bare with me :) i’m not sure if i’m going to be taking requests soon, we shall see. ALSO IM VERY SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER TO WRITE THIS. but i hope you enjoy and if there is any grammar errors or anything else wrong with this please lmk!! have a wonderful day y’all. i love you!!
word count : 2.1k DAMN I WROTE A LOT BCWWSWJCWCMO
warning(s) : pure fluff and curse words. also minor mentions of alcohol :)
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Ever since Nolan met you back in early 2019, he noticed all the cute and weird things you would do. He kept mental notes on what to remember. When it came to your orders of all your favorite fast food places, how you adored indie music, the way you would light a candle only when it rained. He knew that you loved it when he remembered the little things. 
1. He remembered how excited you would get when you got a package in the mail. 
It was a Friday afternoon and surprisingly Nolan's off day today. There wasn’t a lot going on so it was just like any other day.  He was in the living room of your shared apartment trying to find a movie to watch because he was bored out of his mind. While you were in the bedroom doing god knows what. Nolan thought you were fairly quiet and he wasn't about to call out to you but you came running down the hall. 
“Babe! I need the mail keys, my package is here!” You yelled while appearing through the hallway. Nolan turned his head away from the TV to look at you. You were now in the kitchen looking through the old mail from the other day to see if the keys were over there. 
“The keys should be right there, where I left them.” he answered. 
“I don’t see it, I need them now because my package is here.” You had now moved from the kitchen to the living room and continued looking for the keys. 
“What’d you get? Oh lord don’t tell me you got more clothes.” 
“I got jeans and beanie because you sir, don’t like to share yours.” You crossed your arms and looked at him. He proceeded to laugh and shake his head. 
“Just help me look for the keys Nols.” 
“I can’t, I’m pretty busy right now.“ He muttered while pointing to the TV. Of course he wasn’t busy, he was just being an asshole and trying to test your patience. You knew what he was doing, so you proceeded to throw the nearest pillow at him. 
“Pat come on, I just want my jeans and beanie. Now give me the goddamn keys or I will hit you again.” You chuckled.  
“I think the keys grew legs and walked away.” 
“Oh, that’s it I’m going to beat your ass Nolan James.” You were about to smack him with the pillow that was in your hand but he said,” Okay, okay there in the room on my nightstand. I forgot I put them in my pocket when I got the mail the other day.” He surrendered and put his hands up as if he way very very guilty. 
About ten minutes later you returned from getting the mail without saying a word to Nolan. You basically ran into the room with your package already ripped open. He thought you were adorable. They way your eyes would light up and say it felt like “Christmas” every time you got something in the mail. The way you would never stop talking about how excited you were to finally get the package. He loved it all. 
Nolan saw you walk out of the room about five minutes later. You were now wearing your new jeans and the dark green beanie.  
“I like the beanie babe, you’re gonna let me borrow it right?”
2. He remembered how a random dog on the street would make your day. 
No matter what you were always a dog person. You liked cats but they just weren't dogs. You grew up with dogs your whole life and never really had an experience with cats. Plus you always thought if you were to ever get a cat, there might be a chance that it might scratch your eyeballs in the middle of your sleep. 
Nolan found out your love for dogs when you guys went over to Karly and Tk’s apartment for a mini get together with all of the guys. A drunk Tk and Kevin insisted you all played a good game of ‘truth or dare’. Nolan somehow remembered that and anytime he would see you get excited over a dog, he would think back to that moment you said you loved dogs. 
Nolan and you were currently walking through the semi-empty streets of South Philadelphia. The both of you wanted to actually go out and get some lunch. You guys even explored for a little bit. 
You guys had just left a little vintage shop that you’d been dying to go to for the longest time, when you saw a girl around the same age as you with a dog that looked like Charlie. Nolan saw the look in your eyes and immediately knew that you wanted to go over to the girl and ask if you could pet her dog. 
“Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt your day but I saw your dog and had to come over and ask if I can pet it.” Nolan was a little embarrassed and was ready for the girl to say no to you but she actually said yes. You proceeded to crouch down and started to pet the dog. 
“Hi buddy, you’re so cute.” You were definitely in pure bliss. 
“Is it a he or a she?” 
“Oh it’s a he and his name is Arlo.” She replied to your question. For the first time since you approached the girl, Nolan spoke, “I like his dog breed. We were actually thinking of getting one soon.” Nolan looked at you and smiled. It brought him joy that you guys were so close to getting a dog. You’ve always wanted one of your own and you didn’t care what breed. 
“You should get one. Arlo’s a really good dog.” 
The three of you continued to have some small talk. Nolan and you learned that her name was Theodora and that she lived in the apartments across the street from where you and Nolan lived. You were about to say goodbye to Theodora and Arlo but she asked, “Nolan, if you don’t mind, can I get a picture?”
3. He remembered how you would get “mad” when the Wi-Fi wasn’t working. 
It was Tuesday night and you were currently on the sofa with a blanket draped on your shoulders with your laptop on your lap. You were typing up some email for work. The exhaustion was hitting you and the headache that had formed an hour ago was now worsening. All you wanted to do in that moment was to go to bed and cuddle with Nolan but work was definitely kicking you in the ass today. Procrastination was a bitch which caused you to do all of the non-important work today. Midnight struck and you were on your second to last email but your laptop started to load. The little load icon now took the place of the Gmail icon on the tab. You knew it was too good to be true. 
“Nols! Is your phone acting weird?” You shouted. It may have been midnight but you could care less if your neighbors heard you. 
“My phone is fine but the movie on the TV is loading.” He shouted right back at you. 
“Well if it isn’t my fucking luck.” You spoke under your breath. You knew that the Wi-Fi was going to take it time to finally start working again so you finally gave up. Nolan heard the sound of the laptop closing. He could tell you were done for the day. You had been working your ass off all day and desperately needed to go to bed. 
“I hate the Wi-Fi.” You huffed while entering the bedroom. 
“Yeah baby, I know this.” He turned off his phone and smiled at you. He thought you looked cute when you were frustrated. 
“ I almost threw my laptop across the room.” 
“Yeah I know, it seemed like you closed your laptop pretty hard.”
4. He remembered how much love you have for rain. 
Rain was something that you’ve always enjoyed ever since you were a toddler. Your dad loved it and made sure you would too. There were stories about how you would run out to the front yard when it was pouring outside, and just jump in the puddles that were on the sidewalk. Actually, one time you let the dog out with you so he could jump in the puddles with you too. Lets just say that you got yourself into a predicament. 
You also enjoyed the vibes it would give you. Sometimes you turned on a movie and made a cup of hot cocoa, other times you would actually get things done. Like homework or even cleaning. The rain was therapeutic to you. No matter what, it always put you in a good mood. 
Nolan noticed your “liking” for the rainy weather two weeks after you moved in with him. It was like any other day, Nolan was already ready for your date. You on the other hand, were still in the bathroom getting ready. Nolan remembered hearing you say “Babe look it’s raining!” when you stepped out of the bathroom. 
It was now offseason so therefore Nolan didn’t need to worry about hockey. The both of you decided to take a last minute “getaway trip” to your hometown. Your parents were pestering you to visit and insisted for you to bring Nolan with you. So you finally caved in and said yes. Nolan had met your parents before, plenty of time actually. He loved them and they loved him. So you thought it wouldn’t hurt to bring him along. 
You knew the weather wasn’t going to be all sunny when you visited but you weren’t complaining. By the third day of your stay, it still hasn’t rained and you were starting to get bummed out. Nolan noticed it too. He knew it wasn’t a big deal but he knew you were bummed that it didn’t rain yet. But lucky for you it started to rain. 
You were in the shower when it started to rain and Nolan knew the minute that you would step into your childhood bedroom you’d probably yell “Look it’s raining!” Which is exactly what you did. He heard you come out of the shower. About ten minutes later you came out of the bathroom that was connected to your room. You were brushing your hair and in some comfy clothes. You were ready to watch Marvel movies with Nolan in bed for the next couple of hours. That plan was long gone when you turned your head to look outside through your window. Nolan saw the way your eyes lit up.
 “Oh babe look it’s raining!” Nolan’s immediate response was to start laughing. 
“Babe it’s not funny, we have to go out and dance now.” You were not kidding and Nolan knew that. He knew by the next 10 minutes you guys were going to be out there and dancing in the rain. He wasn’t even going to try to stop you. No matter what he knew that you guys would’ve ended up outside in the rain.
 “Okay fine but you just got out of the shower so, if you get sick that’s on you.” He put his phone down and got up from the bed. You were literally already down the stairs before he stepped out of your bedroom. By the time he was downstairs, you were telling your mom that you were gonna go outside. 
“Honey, you’re gonna get sick if you go out with your hair wet.” Your mom was in the kitchen while your dad was watching soccer on the TV in the living room. 
“I’d risk getting sick if that meant I got to go outside and dance in the rain.” You were already out the front door when you finished your sentence. Nolan decided it was his queue to follow you outside. It was raining hard and Nolan knew that you were gonna wake up with a stuffy nose and sore throat in the morning. Yet again he’d do anything to make you happy. You were naïve and it was definitely gonna bite you in the ass in the morning. You couldn’t care less though. 
Your mom noticed both you and Nolan hadn’t returned and she decided to go look through the window in the kitchen to see if you guys were okay. She could’ve sworn she saw the most wholesome thing ever.  She was so close to sobbing. You and Nolan were in the middle of the street slow dancing. In that moment she knew that you and Nolan were gonna get married. 
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memphisfaith · 28 days ago
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Hearts Of Lust: Ch.36
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Pairing Kim Namjoon X Reader 
Genre: High School!AU, Smut 
Word Count: 2.4k
Warning: Cursing, mentions of smut, smut, consumption of alcohol, mentions of violence, violence, crack personality disorders, Chaotic energy.
Summary: High School is any teenager’s prime years, at least that’s what Lee (y/n) and Kim Namjoon thought. The two are infamous for two reasons, by two vary different crowds. Among the teachers they are picture perfect students with perfect scores, attendance, and image. However, among the students they are the vary essence of lust with amazing bodies, sex appeal, and skill. The two, although strikingly similar, butt heads quite a bit with competitions of everything from grades to who can get a person to drop their pants the fastest. With the two of them in their final year of high school and their plans for college already sorted out and paid for they have nothing to worry about…At this point the year is all a matter of Go Big or Go Home.
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Waking up the next morning was hard, like really hard. I woke up past 12 am and hung over. Despite this I still got up, I still got dressed, and I still took Yoongi’s keys to buy donuts, coffee, and smoothies. By the time I came back less than half of us were awake.
Shin was up, so was Jin, and so was Namjoon. The smell of the coffee did the trick to get a good portion of the remaining sleepers up, and by then the rest started waking up from the commotion. Donuts and Aspirin were passed around like a second thanksgiving, Jungkook eventually did his share of the leftover clean up before he was able to hang out with the rest of us. But that’s how it went until everyone had to go home.
I spend the rest of the break finishing my study guides and giving them to the boys. The following week was the week before midterms and not only did I bust their ass about it but I busted mine too. 
It was hard but we pulled it off, all of us were able to fully memorize the information. When Midterms came, Jimin stayed true to his dare. He showed up to school that morning in nothing but his mother’s robe, but he went the extra mile to style his hair to a messy perfection and wore a pair of sexy tinted sunglasses. The robe was half open to reveal the creamy skin of his chest and he placed the opening of the robe just right so his pretty legs would slip through just enough to see just past his knee when he walks.
The teachers didn’t know what to say about it, so they didn’t say a thing. They let him take his midterms like that. I’m sure half his class failed because they couldn’t focus on their test when Jimin had one bare leg thrown over his other and the chest of his robe opened wider than it was. It must have sucked to be them.
Midterms were over fast, and it’s almost patronizing that we slave over these tests for weeks if not months in advance just for it to be over in a day or two. But it was over nonetheless, and to celebrate we had Jin’s birthday that very weekend. 
Jin had picked out what he wanted to do the previous week, and needless to say when he told us I was not surprised. Kim Seokjin wanted a beauty pageant for his birthday and we’re giving it to him.
I made the cake this time and decorated it myself with a cute pink tiara. Seokjin demanded no gifts, but we all showed up with one anyway. I gifted Jin a portrait of himself, a classic portrait that you’d see in a rich tycoon’s mansion hanging above his fireplace.
He loves it of course and it’s safe to say I won a point against Namjoon as he gifted him a pink sweater. But Shin and Jungkook came out on top when Shin gifted him a book of dad jokes and Jungkook gave him a pink apron with the phrase ‘kiss the cook’.
As of right now, Jin demands we get ready for his contest. All of us we’re supposed to plan an outfit and he would choose the winner. Jimin went out of his way to personally design the crown, which looked amazing. 
I planned my outfit as soon as he told me what he wanted to do. I choose to wear a white bodycon dress with a big white fluffy fur coat on top. I used my bedazzled strappy wedges, thick diamond choker, and long diamond dangle earrings to add some sparkle. As some finishing touches I wore a pair of cateye sunglasses with deep red lipstick. I felt proud of my look.
The boys didn’t do so bad themselves, however I think Hobi, Taehyung, Jimin looked the best out of the rest of them. Not surprised, Hobi looks great in any kind of suit he wears, Jimin’s got fashion designer blood in him, Taehyung has an amazing taste for fashion. 
Hobi actually matched me a little, he wore a white suit set with large flared jacket labels and a silky almost sheer white button down shirt. He finished the look with a thick gold necklace and tinted gold wired radiators. A classic and sexy look for him.
Jimin opted for a loose fitting silk button up with fitting dress pants. His hair styled to perfection while his earrings, rings, necklaces, and bracelets added a pretty shine to him. It’s a very sleek and sexy look.
Taehyung dressed in a patterned V-neck button up with fitted jeans. His messy hair is slightly pushed back by a thick headband that matches his shirt resting on his forehead. He wore a jacket that he pushed off his shoulders and let rest in the creases of his elbows. Overall a very dark sexy look.
Jungkook opted for a cute boy look with overalls and a long sleeved striped shirt, even wore cute circle glasses. Shin went for a small town girl look as she wore the dress I gave her only she wore cute white heels and her hair is down in pretty curls. Yoongi went for his classic badass look, with his band T-shirt, ripped black jeans, and black leather jacket. Namjoon went for his typical smart but sexy look, which was a thin fitted turtleneck with dark slacks and his favorite pair of glasses.
All of our looks ranged and covered everything from cute to sexy. Jin had us all lined up and he looked over us like a sergeant inspecting his battalion. “I’ve come to a decision and I’d like to use my command to state…” Jin paused. “I am the winner!” He cheers, “Oh my fucking god,” I mumble looking at Jin in his white T-Shirt and Hello kitty PJ pants.
“You set this up didn’t you?” I question accusingly as Jin fits the crown to his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He chimes. ”Why do you get to win? Your Pajamas for fucks sake.” Jimin wines. “The same reason a scarecrow won an award.” He smiles. “Because we’re outstanding in our fields.” He crackles. I bite my tongue and cover my mouth to hold back my laughter so I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Jin crackles, at his own joke while the rest finds him unamusing. “Ahh, I try not to laugh at my own jokes but we all know I’m hilarious.” Jin sighs. 
“That’s it! I’m done.” Jimin huffs before stripping down to his underwear. He lies on the couch and lets out a blissful sigh of relief. “I’m game.” I mutter, shrugging off my fur coat. I struggled to unzip my dress until I felt a hand unzip it for me. I turn to see Taehyung behind me with a smirk itched on to his face. 
“Noona? Do you know who’s birthday is next?” He teased. I roll my eyes, I know whose it is but I still play his game as I shook my head. “It’s mine.” He grins, “Really? And what would you ask for if you knew the answer was yes?” I tease, “You,” He spoke seriously, a dark look carved on his handsome face. 
“That’s not what I meant Tae and you know it.” I smirk, Tae pouts as he wraps his arms around me and buries his head into my hair attempting to cuddle standing up. “Okay how about we sit down and you can tell me all about what you want for your birthday hmm?” I smile patting the back of his head. “M’kay.” He mumbles before letting me go. 
I let my dress fall and I instantly relax when the tightness is released. My matching strapless bra and panties felt much more comfortable than the tight dress. It seems everyone else found their underwear far more comfortable than their current outfits. 
I stole a pillow from the chair and propped it up against the bottom of the couch. I rest my back against and let Tae lay against me. I pulled the headband from his head and started to run my hands through his hair. Taehyung hums and rests his head against my shoulder. “Okay Tae talk to me,” I smile, “I don’t wanna be weird.” He mumbles. ”Trust me taetae, you’re not going to be weird. I already corrupted my morals for Jungkook, there’s nothing stopping me from doing the same for you.” I smile. 
“Are you sure?” He questions quietly, “Mmhmm.” I hum. “I’d really like it if you let me believe I could give you a baby.” He whispers so quietly. “A…baby?” I questioned slowly, he nodded shyly. “I think I can do that, anything else?” I ask, He shook his head. “Not anything else I can think of. Having you would be enough.” He mumbles. A laugh broke through my throat. “Okay, but if you want anything else you can always tell me.” I continue to comfort. “Mmm, I know Noona.” He smiles blissfully. 
Taehyung did just that, from then to the last week of school before they let out for Christmas break he would pull me aside and whisper things he would like. So far I’ve collected a healthy list of things, and this isn’t just for him…It’s for me. Jungkook caught me off guard and I wasn’t ready for anything but with this I’ll be able to make it out with what little moral I’ll have left intact.
The final week of school and I turned in my three pieces, Which lifted a hundred pound weight off my shoulders. I felt like I was free, I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face when I came out of that classroom. Apparently I wasn’t the only one put in a good mood, every single senior among our groups couldn’t stop grinning.
Meeting in the parking lot as usual to wait off the after school traffic couldn’t have been more entertaining. The three Maknaes are all the more wired in the excitement of break. Jungkook jumps around with Taehyung behind him as they circle a crackling Jimin.
“Are your guys family’s coming home this year?” I ask the boys around me. “What do you think?” Jin scoffs, I hum in agreement. “I was just asking because I thought we could go somewhere instead of us being at my place as usual.” I mumble playing with my hands.
“Why? Sick of us getting drunk and crashing at your place?” Yoongi teases, “No, It’s just…It’s our last year of high school and I thought that maybe we could do something new to make it more…exciting.” I shrug. 
“It’s okay if you don’t want to but, I just think it would be a good idea.” I push off quickly. “No! No! It’s okay coriander! I think it’s a great idea!” Hobi smiles brightly, “Where would you want to go? Paris? Rome? Spain? America?” He questions. “No, I was thinking somewhere still in the country. Just away from this town, a Road trip of sorts.” I suggest.
“Oh, well then I have just the place!” Namjoon grins. “And where is that?” I question with raised eyebrows. “The ocean.” He smiles, My eyes widen at his suggestion. Namjoon sent me a small but knowing smile at my reaction. “We can do that, buy a beach house right on the water.” Yoongi nods.
“Can’t we just rent one?” I question with a sigh, “No, I’m pretty sure we’d want to decorate it and stuff ourselves. Think of it as our own little get away place. We could go there for vacations when we need time away.” Hobi smiles.
“He makes a good point, it could be like our own little frat house.” Jin laughs, “Like we need one of those. My house is the frat house.” I chide. “Good point,” Yoongi shrugs. “We got three weeks of break. How do you want to go about it?” I question. 
“Well, I assume we can start getting things ready for our get away the first week. I’ve met Shin’s mom before and if we want to keep her for more than a day or two your going to have to convince her it’s safe.” Namjoon sighs.
“Not to mention I’ll have to have time to find us a place to stay.” he mutters, “And I’m sure Jimin will want to decorate the place.” He continues to list. “Okay, lots to get done in a week! I get it!” I groan. “But we’ve done more in less time. We can do this!” I grin.
“Your right, this should be nothing.” Jin nods. “I’ll make sure to talk to Shin and her mom, and when we go shopping for Christmas I’m sure we can pick stuff out for the new place.” I nod.
“Plus there’s like, nine of us! Surely we can divide the work so things can get done faster!” I scoff. “Yeah, your right.” Joon sighs, “When am I not! One point for me my dear monster.” I grin nudging his shoulder with mine. Namjoon nudged back with a devious smile, “But I’m still in the lead Vixen.” He sneers playfully. “Are You?” I tease.
“Fifty-nine to fifty eight now.” he grins, I click my tongue at him with an eye roll. “Don’t get cocky,” I snap, “Hard not to when I’m good with it.” He smirks, I groan loudly, shoving him. “Come on, I know for a fact you can moan louder than that.” He continues, “You have to earn it first.” I hiss.
“As much as I’m -Loving- this sexual tension.” Yoongi sighs out dramatically. “I’d like to get home now so that maybe we get started on this little winter project of ours.” He continues.
“Alright Suga I get it.” I smile opening the door to his car. “I’ll see you later guys.” I wave over to them, “BYE BOYS!” I scream over to the rowdy boys still rough housing. They wave enthusiastically as I get into the car. Once I’m buckled in Yoongi drives off and drops me off at my house.
I changed into more comfortable clothes and sat down in my bed notebook in hand. All kinds of Ideas and plans flooded my mind about this new place we want to get, and I can’t wait to start getting ready for it.
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pseudofaux · a month ago
headcanons for comte, dazai, + your choice when they hear their s/o having a spicy dream next to them?
Oooooooh, I like this one a lot, and I liked it even more when I saw this follow up:
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THANK YOU! 🥰 Ohohohoho, gonna have a field day with this one. This is a really great request, thanks for including my two favorites in there and letting me choose the third! 😚 Dazai’s gets a little dark/jealous and Mozart’s is... different... so if that’s not to your tastes, may wanna skip them (there are clear breaks between each character). I guess cw on all of these that I took the requester’s (A+) ask to heart. These situations are all in partnered relationships of great care and regard, but explicit consent is not here by the nature of the request. No one is in danger, these characters would never hurt each other, but these scenarios flirt and high-dive into >> dubcon << territory and two are a little dark. Please don’t read if that’s a fiction combo that makes you uncomfortable.
Comte takes her beauty rest seriously and takes great pride (and pleasure) in giving her the good sleep, so if she seems unsettled in her rest in his arms, he’s immediately alert and peering at her. He’ll brush any hair back from her brow and sniff-nuzzle at her temple like he can catch the scent of her dreams. He might be a bit of a fool generally but never in this: his woman is aroused in their bed, that’s not something a gentleman leaves be. Her rest is important, but her pleasure is paramount.
So he takes a middle path. There are things that he can do, as a pure blood, that lesser vampires cannot. And there are some things he, as himself, can do that others cannot, not even other pure bloods. They include whispering suggestions as he touches her (with so much gentleness and care), little scenes for her mind to make bloom in her dreaming. He thumbs one of her nipples through her nightdress and seeds the spring ground of her sleeping mind with erotic fantasies of being loved in front of a coliseum of people, public and shameless and loud. He brushes the lightest kiss imaginable against the top of her ear and whispers what he’d do to her underwater.
He’s very careful not to wake her. But he does continue to touch her as she relaxes into the dreams, and once she’s cum on his fingers, well. If her beautiful lashes and lips both part in blissful confusion, it’s his responsibility to make sure she closes them right up again, on his kiss, as he reminds her body what they can do in the waking world. Especially in the dark when their bodies are close and warm and she smells like bliss and he aches for her.
—|—
Dazai watches her without interacting. He doesn’t have Comte’s sureness of what’s going on inside her head, but he’s slept with more women so he has some sureness all the same. The tiny, unagonized moans in sleep... he knows what those mean. It makes him playfully, very lightly cruel, because petty jealousy simmers up fast. What’s she dreaming about, hmm? He can’t know it’s him, humans can never know each other’s minds so well. No matter what she’s say upon waking, he actually does try to wake her up, or at least test her wakefulness. He does it in soft ways: a whispered “Toshiko-san?”, a gentle drumming of his fingers on her shoulder. But when that makes her posture fall open in the bed next to him, his golden eyes narrow to see it, and his teeth come out. He puts a hand at either side of her head to hold him body over hers, does not bother to move her slip, and scrapes the top of her shoulder with his fangs, and when that has her whimpering and rubbing her thighs together— maybe one of her hands rubs dreamily as well— he puts just a little more pressure behind his teeth, enough to drag trails of heat over her chest. Whimpering becoming gasping makes him press his mouth to hers, firmly... it’s only the give of the pillows and the way they catch all the pressure that keeps her from waking then. He gets moody and kisses her with the intent of waking her up and fucking her, but her sleepy arms going around his back still him.
I was having the nicest dream, she confesses.
He hmphs.
You were nicer in the dream.
That melts him, and when his fingers touch her they’re mollified and apologetic, and he does what she likes best when he finds how wet she is. He gets her wide awake, so wide awake her eyes go wide for him, and his jealousy seems so silly and so small a thing.
But he keeps fucking her and keeps her awake until the sun rises. Just in case.
—|—
Mozart has zero idea what’s going on, he only knows that she’s not sleeping peacefully. Their hearts are intertwined but they don’t cling to one another in sleep, so he actually turns his back on her at first (!) and tries to go back to sleep himself... until she reaches out for him, hand slapping and then stroking his back when she finds him. Her touch is that way of hers, lingering and warm, and moving down the plane of his back and over his hip. It turns his brain to useless noise and he sputters and turns over before she can reach him. He grabs for her wrists with a frown but her sleeping face is so etched with need— he didn’t know, but now that he looks at her there’s no way not to— and her body is gently undulating on their sheets. He touches his forehead to hers and she’s warm, impassioned. He’s about to tut at her unconscious foolishness and figure out how not to hold this against her when his name comes out of her mouth, as though the breath hopes to travel to his own dreams.
“Wake up,” his whispers. She only sighs and her arm goes lax in his grip— she is somehow never doing as she is told! “Wake up,” he says again, now pleading and far from sure what to do with her.
“Bite,” she moans in her sleep. Never, ever does she do what she is told, what she should. “Please, please.”
Her hand surges forward and he is too stunned at the inhuman quickness to stop her. She throws the arm over him senselessly and seeks out his mouth as though it is some key she needs for an escape neither of them can really see. Her leg gets itself over his hip, unslow and fevered the way they only are with each other. His body goes hot like it must match hers degree for degree, and when she rocks against him he groans and grits out one more “Wake. Up.”
She hum-whines instead, ridiculous in her sleep, and he can stand that even less than her core grinding against him though the satin she wears to bed, all that she is arousing him beyond reason. So he puts his mouth on hers to stop her noise but her lips open and he falls into her mouth like always, seeking her as she sleeps and seeks him.
It doesn’t even work to shut her up, now there are whimpers studding their kisses, pinning all the world in place, especially the two of them tangled in one another. She slides her hand down her back and it is not done with the love she shows when she is awake, it is rapid, a wash of heat against the muscle that protects the side of his ribs. Her hand is already on him before he can do anything but choke out a cry that finishes just in time for her “touch me, too” to register in his useless brain.
What else is there to do? He touches her, fingers finding her sopping and trying to calm her as he arouses her. And he enjoys her touch, the precise feel of her hand a joy that he knows, the way it touches him foreign, proof she is not entirely herself.
She pulls him close, pushes herself closer to him, and uses his body as they continue to kiss, their tongues so much slower than their hands. She is sigh so sweetly and peacefully into his mouth as she fits herself around his fingers and uses the head of his cock against the needy—has he ever known such a need? even for sustenance, or for a perfect arrangement of notes?— crown of her sex and rubs him back and forth until they both begin to shudder. He spills in a mess, ground against her skin, one hand half tucked inside her and the other palming her bottom to keep her close. The stretch of his fingers should not be near as pleasant as he finds it.
Her sigh of his name is so satisfied it is as if some magic cast on her has fled the room and given her back to herself. She murmurs his name and shifts against him. He hates the squelch, sticky and unrefined, but something in the back of his brain itches to see it.
“Wake up or go to sleep,” he tells her. She does not answer, already well beyond him in dreams. Or so he must hope.
So he takes his time and looks his fill.
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jessiembruno · a month ago
Text
Unenchanted: Tennessee Honey
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Books: The Royal Romance
Rating: M (Mature content and implied sexual activities)
Pairing: Drake X MC
The Pencil Chronicles- Series premise: This series was inspired by Long Hand Trope Pencils (Special thanks for the extra pencils!). The pencils have a phrase that can be a prompt or a line from a show or book. So the idea to write stories using them was born from a chat I had with @sfb123 and they gave me that loving push. I wanted a random A/U where anything is possible and, so that’s what I have with this series (TPC). SO take what you know and throw it out the window. Anything goes in this series. It is a canon divergent series for any book I write about. My character personalities remain the same as do the ones I write from Pixelberry in the manner I write their canon character. It could be any character, any pairing, any scenario. I will go where the pencil leads. Catch up with everything here
Detailed disclaimer
Scenario/Timeline: The day of the UN Gala. Drake and the MC go to her hotel room for drinks.
Pencil Chronicle Prompt/Theme: “Hi, Guys! I'm broken”
A/N: So I’m doing a few prompts for this story, and they appear in bold throughout the story.
Wacky drabble prompt(s): #83 “That makes my [Body part tingle].”,#84 “Just keep moving.”,#85 “Do you want me to leave., and #86 “Have you lost your mind.”
Ask prompt: #34 “Why can't you see that I'm in love with you?” #40 “Are you implying that you want to kiss me?”
Triggers: 🍋
Chapter Song inspiration: Tennessee Whiskey
Word count: 1,562 *As always, forgive my typos and, grammatical errors.*
Reading time: 12 minutes
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Jewels by David L - New York
Jessica huffed and said, “Can we get this going here?”
The jeweler apologetically said,” I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cause you any more stress. We were polishing it.”
The sales clerk smiled at them and said, “SO, are you ready for your big day?”
Jessica eyes got wide; she was ready to explode. She was quiet for most of the day, but he knew she reached her tipping point.
Drake put his arm around and said, “The future Mrs. and I are-”
Jessica pushed his hand away and shouted, “Fuck it! Listen, I’m not okay. I’m picking up the wedding band for my boyfriend's fiancé. JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING RING, OKAY!”
Everyone in the store turned around, paying attention to Jessica’s outburst.
Jessica continued her rant as Drake began to cringe at the spectacle. “Let me just shout it for the people on the back. I’m the mistress!”
Drake shouted, “Garcia!”
Hi, guys! I’m broken. I love punishing myself. Oh, I’m stopping you from shopping? “Do you want me to leave!?”
Drake shouted, “Jessica, have you lost your mind!?”
A woman said, “Geezus.”
Jessica ignored him and turned her attention to the woman and said, “Fuck you. Just keep it moving; you’re getting your happy ending!”
Drake tapped the glass. “Give me the fucken ring. Just give me the fucken ring.”
Jessica snatched the box from the jeweler and said in a sarcastic tone, “I bet it beautiful and wonderful and has some beautiful perfect LiamISH detail.” Jessica opened the box and looked at the dull, uneventful ring. She scoffed, “Well, it certainly is basic, and well, Madeleine is a basic bitch, so it suits her. BUT it doesn’t matter what I think, At the end of it all, they will go off into the sunset, AND they live happily fucken after!”
“Jessica, please calm the fuck down. Out of all the shit you went through this is the moment you pick to meltdown in public? You know somehow this is better than at the UN gala.”
“I’m gonna dick punch Constantine TONIGHT. I’ve had enough! You know what Liam, Madeleine will probably starfish you, and well you like vanilla. SO ENJOY YOUR VANILLA SEX LIFE. Your gonna be think about my -”
The sales clerk let out an exaggerated gasp.
Drake shouted drowning Jessica out, “JESSICA, let’s get the fuck out of here. Let’s just have a drink.”
Baccarat Hotel -
Jessica’s hotel room balcony
Drake sat across from Jessica and poured her a drink, and handed it to her. Jessica walked over to the stone siding of the enclosure and pressed her rear end against it. She placed her plump plum lips to the rim of the and tossed her head back, taking it all at once. “Man, that makes my throat tingle. But it’s still smooth.”
‘Her lips are perfect. Fuck.’
Drake put his empty tumbler down; he smiled at her and said, “Jack Daniels… Tennesse Honey. Jessica, don't go to the gala. We can just hang out and talk here.”
Jessica poured herself another drink and said, “You know Drake, you have been calling me Jessica a lot today. It feels nice.”
‘She noticed. Time to come clean.’
Drake poured himself another drink; he took a gulp and set it down, then said, “I have been hoping that you would fucken see me.”
Jessica looked at him, puzzled at his comment, “I’m looking right at you, and I’m not fucken drunk.”
“Jessica, I want you to look at me the way you look at him.”
“Drake, are you-”
Drake took the rest of his drink and set it down on the table, and stood up. “Why can’t you see that I’m in love with you?”
Jessica eyes got wide, and she said, “Drake, you’re in love with me? How long?”
His eyes averted; hers he was shocked at his very own outburst, saying aloud the words he held inside of himself for months. “In Italy, I wanted to cross that line with you. For months, I wanted you to look my way. Liam, doesn’t fucken deserve you. I want to. I want to try.”
Drake walked over to where Jessica was standing, held her face in his hands. She chewed her lip and said, Are you implying that you want to kiss me?” Drake took a deep breath and, in a low husky whisper, said, “Fuck yes.” He pressed his lips against hers, and she opened her mouth. Their tongues coiled and mingled and meet each other in the center like they should have been kissing each other for years.
Jessica dropped the tumblr on the floor and ran her hands through his hair as they kissed, closing her eyes and completely melting into him. There so much longing in his kiss she felt it in the pit of her stomach he was awakening something inside her. His kiss sent shivers down her spine as she held onto him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer, so they were flush against one another. “I want you,” he mumbled against her lips, an excited and fond look in his eyes. Jessica hesitated for a moment. Should they be doing this? She wasn’t sure, but the idea of how good it would feel was clouding any doubt she had about the situation. Jessica didn’t know what this was, but she wanted to explore it. So, she nodded, taking a deep breath and holding onto him.
Drake’s hands traveled to the small of her back as he said, “Just give me one night with you.” Jessica didn’t respond, and they continue kissing; Drake traced the shape of her ass with his hands before put lifted her dress dipped his hands in her lace underwear. He slowly moved his hand down to rub at her clit, making her moan out and arch her back. Drake got on his knees and gently lifted her left leg over his shoulder, his hand his “You feel so good,” he mumbled. He did not know how they survived without touching each other like this; she felt it too somehow; they were spending a lot of time with each other, and part of her resented Liam for even considering the option of a Cordonian arrangement. She could feel his desperation even more after a few moments went by. Her leg wrap around his neck and his hand holding her thigh to spread her legs giving him deeper access and it became more intense.
“You taste like honey,” Drake mumbled, slowly letting two fingers enter her. She sighed at the feeling, tilting her head back with a bit of groan. He also leaned down to lick at her clit, the two sensations overwhelming her. Her body jerked as she let out a little cry, her body pleasantly warm with pleasure. His two fingers started moving, crooking the spot that she wanted him to hit most. It was already so much.
He fingered her for only a bit before he took his fingers out and licked them. He then focused more on his skilled tongue work, looking up at her with clouded eyes. Jessica burying her fingers into his hair. “Fuck, oh my god, Drake!” she moaned out; her body was on fire. Jessica was dripping on herself, her nectar covering his mouth and her thighs. She felt close, warning him with a whine. He pulled away, making her gasp and groan.
“I want to be inside of you when you cum,” Drake said quickly, picking her up and taking her to the bed. She chewed on her bottom lip, leaning up to kiss at his neck as he hovered over her. They undressed each other, Jessica taking off his jacket and Drake taking off her soft dress. Drake tossed their clothing aside in favor of their desperation. “I want you so bad,” Drake groaned, grinding down onto her. “Let me show you how much I’ve wanted you,” he mumbled, pressing his thumb down onto her bottom lip gently, taking a moment to look at her as he slowly lined up with her and pushed forward, both of them gasping and then moaning out at the sensation of filling and being filled.
“Oh god,” Jessica moaned, looking up at him. Drake smiled and let out a moan in the back of his throat. She could see that he was holding back from moving immediately, pausing inside of her so she could get used to the feeling. Jessica, buck up her hips a little and tightening around him to encourage him to move. He ended up moving with a groan, closing his eyes and starting his thrusts.
They both groaned, Jessica, panting as he buried himself inside of her over and over again. “FUCK DRAKE,” Jessica gasped, holding onto him. Drake leaned down, caressing her cheek somehow even through his thrusts. He still was not going too fast to saver the moment she gave herself to. He happy to have this moment, this single moment of bliss with her, but if this was it for them, he wanted to make sure they could remember it.
Drake’s speed picked up, and he reached down to rub at her clit again. After being edged once, she was close. Her body felt positively electric as she moved closer to her climax. She was so warm, both with fondness and with her body heat rising so much. He continuously toyed with her clit, leaning down to give her a passionate kiss as she fell over the edge. Pleasure erupted through her body in a blind wave as she gasped against his lips, pulling away in favor of crying out in bliss. Her body jerked, and her head fell back, the tightening caused by her orgasm pushing him over the edge. His thrusts stilled as he buried himself deep inside of her, leaning over her with a loud groan of her name.
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