#like ma’am please. stop ❤️
Can you do one where jasper hale and the reader are doing the deed and Carlisle and Esme walk in on the thing happening. Thank you ❤️
Also fem reader plz
DRINK WATER thanks love ya
Caught
You whined softly as Jasper’s hips pushed gently into yours again, one of his hands firmly planted on the bed next to your head in order to keep his weight off of your body as his other hand trailed softly along your body. Jasper was getting better with understanding that you weren’t going to snap if he held onto you a bit tighter, but when it came down to sex, he was still terrified of hurting you. Your whine caused Jasper to stop suddenly as he looked down at you, bringing his hand up to your cheek.
‘Did I hurt you?’ he asked, worry filling his eyes.
‘No,’ you replied, running your hands up his chest, gripping onto his shoulders as you pulled yourself up, pressing your chest against his. Jasper brought his arm around your waist to keep you against him as he buried his head into your shoulder, kissing your skin gently. ‘Jasper you’d never hurt me. If you wanted, you could go faster, you know, harder?’ you continued, your cheeks heating up, suddenly glad that he wasn’t able to see your face.
‘(Y/N), I don’t think I’d be able to control myself, I barely have it together at the moment,’ he said, chuckling into your shoulder, his chuckle turning into a groan when he felt you clench around him.
‘I trust you,’ you said, pulling his head up until he was looking at you. ‘You won’t hurt me, please Jasper, it feels so good.’
Jasper looked at you for a few seconds before pressing his forehead to yours. ‘You tell me if I’m hurting you, okay?’
‘I promise,’ you said quickly, nodding your head as he lowered you back down against the bed. You shivered when you felt his grip tighten on you ever so slightly as he thrust into you again, a cry being torn from your lips at the force. Jasper continued to pick up the speed of his thrusts until he had a gasp falling from your lips every time his hips met yours. Dipping his head back down to the column of your throat, your breath stuck as you felt him graze his teeth along your skin, silently wondering what if would feel like if he sunk his teeth into you.
He was so lost in you that he didn’t hear the sounds of Carlisle and Esme coming back home from a hunt. Carlisle and Esme heard the sounds of your cries and instantly ran up the stairs, following the sound to Jasper’s room, afraid that their newest son had lost control while they had been away. When the door opened, Jasper’s gaze shot over to the movement and, upon seeing who it was, pulled out of you and wrapped your naked body in a blanket before you could blink.
‘You’d gone out,’ Jasper said, panting slightly, his body hovering protectively over you.
‘We had, but then we came home,’ Carlisle said, a small smile appearing on his lips.
‘We heard (Y/N) and thought,’ Esme trailed off when he saw the look of sadness and guilt that passed across Jasper’s face.
‘You thought that I’d lost control and hurt her,’ Jasper finished for her. ‘I’m getting better and - ’
The combination of your hand coming to rest gently on Jasper’s cheek and Carlisle’s words cut him off before he could start to get worked up. ‘We know, son. But with a human in a house full of vampires, that’s the first thing that comes to mind when,’ Carlisle gestured in front of him, his shoulders shaking with supressed laughter. ‘But we can go back out, let the two of you, you know,’ he said, smirking slightly as he wrapped his arm around Esme’s shoulders and led her back downstairs, closing the door behind them.
‘You know, for someone with amazing hearing, you probably should have heard them come in,’ you teased, trying to cheer Jasper up. It worked as a small smile replaced that sad frown that had taken over his features and he turned his attention back towards you.
‘Well sorry ma’am if I was a bit distracted,’ he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. ‘I am getting better though right, being around you?’
‘Baby,’ you cooed, tugging him down until he was lying next to you and you curled your body into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. ‘You’re amazing, you didn’t need to get better at anything, you just had to get used to being around me. And based on what was interrupted, you’re definitely used to me being around,’ you said, unable to hide the smirk on your lips.
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If I Should Stay
Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Steve is terrified.
Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.
Then he woke up in school in 1984.
He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”
Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.
She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.
Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”
Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.
He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.
He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.
She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.
Robin’s pencil lead snaps.
Steve freezes.
He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.
She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.
She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”
“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”
She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”
He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.
He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.
She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”
“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”
“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”
Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”
“Yeah.” Robin sighs.
“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.
“What?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”
I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42
@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry
Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit
Me @ all of you:
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SUPER MINI MAX ★ MV1
pairing: dad! max verstappen x reader (barely any pronouns mentioned)
summary: You and Max have a son, Spider-man is his favorite superhero.
notes: this is very very short and pure fluff, i was bored. also max would be the best dad ever i know it <333
yourusername
Liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 186,725 more
yourusername Happy birthday to my favorite spider-man ever! ❤️
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maxverstappen1 he really loves that bug guy
yourusername i’ll tell him you said this
maxverstappen1 NO PLEASE I WONT SURVIVE
martingarrix CAN I BE SPIDER-MAN WITH HIM??
yourusername only if you can deal with the great responsibility
danielricciardo my godson knows what’s good. happy birthday emi!!
yourusername he is iconic
charles_leclerc the coolest ever. i love spider-man too!!
maxverstappen1 we don’t care babe 🙄
charles_leclerc whatever babe 🙄✋
yourusername BABES go kiss on another comment section or whatever 😬
landonorris super mini max
maxverstappen1 this comment will be my entire personality for the rest of my life
yourusername lando WHAT HAVE YOU DONE
maxverstappen1
Liked by yourusername, christianhorner and 983,725 more
maxverstappen1 Super mini max. Happy birthday to my boy! ❤️💙
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yourusername @ landonorris i blame you for this
landonorris i take full responsibility ma’am
yourusername do you regret it?
landonorris yes ma’am
yourusername good. i hope you suffer.
yourusername i love you, you’re the best papa <3
maxverstappen1 did you just… i love you too, schat <3
maxverstappen’s insta story
yourusername’s insta story
maxverstappen’s insta story
yourusername
Liked by maxverstappen1, marvel and 983,725 more
yourusername part time racing driver, full time spider-man! @ maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 this is the greatest responsibility
yourusername hi can i be your mj?
maxverstappen1 if that means i get to kiss you all the time, then yes
maxverstappen1 super mini max
yourusername MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN-YLN CAN YOU STOP
danielricciardo she used the full name. run.
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all about us? - jude bellingham insta au.
continuation insta au post to ‘more of us?’ 🧟♀️
—————————
ynusername added to their stories!🔒
judebellingham replied to your story:
stop being naïve and answer my texts
who’s this weston guy?
answer me y/n i swear
↪️ yourreply: i should be none of your concern anymore. move on like i am.
sent 30 minutes ago**
—————————
judebellingham posted on their feed!
liked by: westonmckennie, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, camavinga, 3,563,909.
judebellingham: power trip indeed
comments:
user209: WHEN HE LISTENS TO JCOLE>>>
vinijr: ESPECTACULAR 🤍
gioreyna: baby, not even i would want you 🥲
↪️ judebellingham: good me neither. i’m taken.
jobebellingham: amazing bro ❤️
username58: he is so sexy.
user539: why is this man always posting about this girl 💀
—————————
ynusername posted on their feed! 🔒
liked by: judebellingham, yourbsf, yourbsff, westonmckennie, jobebellingham, others.
yourusername: what brent said 👍
comments:
userr23: HOLD ONNNNNNN WAIT A MIN-
yourbsf: okay pics 😛😛
yourbsff: i genuinely haven’t recovered from this past weekend…
↪️ yourusername: me either, but YOLO! 🧟♀️
westonmckennie: woah 😍😍
liked by ynusername!
username71: ma’am how do you look so good in every pic??
yourfriend: who’s the guy… 🧍♀️
↪️ judebellingham: my exact question.
—————————
messages:
—————————
ynusername added to their stories! 🔒
judebellingham replied to your story:
i’m coming to see you.
we have to talk this out please.
i can’t lose you the way i am. how many times do i have to repeat how much i love you? i want you back y/n. please just listen to me.
↪️ yourreply: even if we do talk, we both can tell there’s trust issues involved. jude i want to do bad, but how many more times are we gonna continue doing this? it’s getting out of hand.
judebellingham: which is why i’m coming to talk to you… there’s still hope in both us, i know there is.
seen 54 minutes ago **
—————————
news/media and messages:
—————————
judebellingham posted on their feed!
liked by: gioreyna, jobebellingham, ynusername, vinijr, tobybishay, camavinga, vinijr, 4,345,790.
judebellingham: what brent said 👍
comments:
yourfriend: is that my queen?
yourbsf: dear lord… have the two of you learnt nothing?
gioreyna: happy for you lad! 🤍
jobebellingham: jesus now you won’t shut up about her fr 😂🤣❤️
↪️ judebellingham: no you won’t, you’ll hear very detail of how wonderful she is 👍👍
username3: NO NO NO NO. DO NOT EVENNNNN.
user53: NO WE LOST HIM. HE SOFT LAUNCHED HER IM SICK 😣😣
—————————
ynusername added to their story! 🔒
judebellingham replied to your story:
great now my hand is cold 😒🙄
miss you so much
i love you. thank you for giving me a chance, as much as i don’t deserve it. words can’t describe how grateful i am for you and what you do to my daily life. thank you for trusting me again, for continuing to love me even at my worst.
↪️ yourreply: what did i tell you about blaming yourself? we were both at fault and i’ll admit that because i also did hurt you at one point. i wanted to you to feel how i felt, so please baby, don’t blame yourself. i love you unconditionally and i miss you like hell.
judebellingham: why are you so perfect? how did i get so lucky? 😩😩
↪️ yourreply: STOPPP
judebellingham: never. i won’t stop 🥴
judebellingham: come to my game against napoli?
seen a minute ago **
—————————
judebellingham posted on their feed!
liked by: ynusername, jobebellingham, tobybishay, vinijr, tonikroos, camavinga, gioreyna.
judebellingham: 3pts and a goal, thank you for you the amount of support. in a happy state of mind with you! 🤍
comments:
ynusername: i love you handsome!! 🥹🤍
↪️ judebellingham: in love with you pretty girl 🤍
ynusername: so proud of you always!
vinijr: he does it again 📸📷
gioreyna: top player. and great bf ig 😵💫
jobebellingham: real. had to be you. ❤️
usernameee6128: AWW JUDEEEE
user123: if you’re happy i’m happy!
username405: hard launch!!!
user022: WERE GETTING BF PICTURES DJNDNDJJND
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VIII ║ Silver Pony
Jack Daniels x f!reader
{ Part 7: Fleabitten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 9: Warmblood }
Rating: E
Summary: And just like that, your week at the Statesman Ranch comes to an end, leaving you grappling with the prospect of saying goodbye to Jack.
Warnings: Mentions of food and cooking, angst, feelings, grief, flirting, insecurities, very light soft!dom overtones, sexual innuendoes, risky unprotected sex (wrap it up, kids!), dirty talk, language, no use of Y/N
Word count: 7.5k
Notes: Here we are, the penultimate chapter of Palomino. I had the last scene in mind since the very beginning of the series, actually putting it into words has been so emotional. Thank you as always for your patience and your love for this series, I'm eternally grateful that you're still with me as we wrap up this beautiful journey cowboy Jack and his Darlin' started almost a year ago ❤️
P.S. Please excuse typos and any mistakes as I had very little time to edit with the husband ill this weekend.
Coaxing Scotch to a halt at the end of the track - the last lookout point before the trail slopes downhill and homeward - you let the leather reins slip long and loose as he stretches his neck and shakes out his mane with a low nicker.
A hundred feet drop below, between the palomino’s ears turned forward in anticipation, is the Statesman Ranch in all its glory, nestled in the fertile valley of green pasture, with its winding creek and red roofs. You can see tiny people milling about, the stables busy in the middle of the afternoon, and horses grazing in the fields bracketed by white picket fences.
Out of the corner of your eye, Whiskey comes to a stop next to you, close enough that your knee bumps into Jack’s.
You keep your gaze on the ranch below as you ask half-jokingly, ‘Is it too late to turn back now?’
He chuckles, and you twist towards him, your own lips curling. ‘I believe we had this exact same conversation the first day, darlin’.’
It’s not too late to back out, you know.
Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy.
You don’t even realise you’ve fallen quiet until his calloused hand slides over yours, fingers tangling together. Jack brushes a sweet kiss to the heart of your palm that goes right to the one in your ribcage.
He cocks his head to one side in a gentle question. ‘Shall we rip off the bandaid, darlin’?’
Knowing there’s no other way around it, you squeeze his hand. ‘Let’s go, cowboy.’
Jameson is the first to spot the five of you passing through the backgates. The sight of him zooming up the slope with his ears pinned back in excitement has you laughing, the horses nickering hello as his barks echo in the valley.
It makes no sense really - you barely know this place after all - but something inexplicably comforting and familiar tugs at your insides as you ride through the ranch. Stable hands call out to Jack in friendly greeting and to you with polite ma’ams, between bales of hay being loaded, saddles and tack polished, and the clang of steel on iron from the farrier’s workstation out back. All the while, Jameson trots faithfully by your side, as if he’s known you all his life.
‘You sure know how to make a girl feel special,’ you coo at him and he barks back, tail wagging.
Jack winks at you and says cryptically, ‘Well, you’re about to feel a lot more special, darlin’.’
Sure enough, when the horses clop into the main stable yard, your jaw drops.
‘Look what the cat dragged in!’ bellows Champ with a huge grin on his face, standing in front of the stable doors with hands on his hips, larger than life than ever.
You chortle at the huge Welcome Back! banner stretched over the barn door, complete with over-the-top cowboy themed helium balloons, bumping into each other in the afternoon breeze. You catch Jack rolling his eyes fondly at the scene.
Champ gives Scotch an affectionate ruffle on the mane as he comes to a halt by the wooden post. ‘So - how was it, m’dear? Was it everythin’ I promised it would be?’
‘Everything and more,’ you answer in the affirmative as you dismount, letting him pull you in for an enthusiastic hug.
‘That’s what I like to hear!’ he beams and pats the palomino soundly on the rump. ‘And Scotch? Was he a good boy?’
‘The bestest boy,’ you gush, throwing your hands around the horse’s neck in a hug. ‘He deserves all the carrots and apples in the world.’
Swinging his leg over the back of Whiskey’s saddle and landing gracefully on booted feet on the opposite side of the post, Jack quips, ‘But you’ve already fed him all the carrots and apples in the world.’
Champ chortles. ‘And what about our cowboy? Was he on his best behaviour?’
Jack points a self-righteous finger at his boss. ‘I’ll have you know our guest rated the pack trip a perfect ten out of ten, so I’ll be expectin’ an immediate raise. Ain’t that right, darlin’?’
A loud scoff coming from the stables turns your head, and you smile when Tequila emerges, wasting no time taking his aim at Jack. ‘Hold your horses, Daniels. Pretty sure the food poisonin’ knocks a few points off!’
Crossing the yard with his usual swagger, he sidles up to the other side of Scotch and tips his hat at you, leaning his elbows on the saddle. ‘Welcome back, sweetheart. Good to see you up and runnin’.’
You bite your lip at the mischievous wink he tosses your way.
Champs harrumps indignantly. ‘You have some nerve askin’ for a raise, son! Poppy was madder than a wet hen she heard about that. As you well know, she expects a full report at dinner tonight.’
Jack huffs in jest. ‘I’m puttin’ in a call to my attorney as we speak.’
The banter is spirited and relentless as the cowboys make quick work of untacking and unloading the horses, Champ insisting you shouldn’t lift a finger and talking for more than the three of you.
When the stable hands take away the last of the bags with your dirty laundry to be laundered, Jack takes a hold of both Whiskey and Bourbon. Clearing his throat, he seems to hesitate for a second, a tick in his jaw, but he eventually nods at you and says, ‘Well. I best be bringin’ the boys in now. Catch you later, darlin’.’
The bottom of your stomach gives out at the catch you later, darlin’, knocking the breath clean out of you, unprepared for the dread that courses through your veins like lead at the sudden prospect of being apart. Your fingers twitch with urgency, wanting to reach out, grab him by the front of his shirt, and cling to him -
Get a grip, woman.
You physically shake yourself out of it, and instead, try to bide your time. ‘Or, you know, if can I help with anything at all -’
Jack clearly catches on to your reluctance, but Champ is insistent. ‘Absolutely not! Now, it’s just gettin’ to four o’clock, so there’s plenty of time to go back to your room, clean up and join us for sunset drinks in a couple of hours. How does that sound, ma’am?’
Jack’s mouth stretches into a reassuring smile that you wish were imprinted into the skin of your forehead instead. With a promise in his eyes that it’ll only be a couple of hours, he leads the chestnut and pinto into the stables.
You don’t even try to hide the slump in your shoulders and your wistful, lingering gaze on the cowboy’s retreating back, nearly jumping out of your skin when Tequila gives you an almost brotherly pat on the shoulder over Scotch’s back. ‘I gotcha, girl.’
Speaking up, he calls out, ‘Hey Champ, Ginger was just tellin’ me that you got an urgent message from Harry, so you better give him a call back - you know how he gets when you don’t.’
The older man flinches dramatically at the mention of his accountant, flinging his hands up in frustration. ‘Damn distillery is more trouble than it’s worth! I better go - you remember your way back to your cabin, young lady?’
Before you can get a word out, Tequila cuts in, ‘Jack can show her the way if she doesn’t, I’m sure.’
The sly reference goes straight over Champ’s head as he bustles off, but not without a polite tip of his hat. Once he’s out of sight, you smile at the cowboy. ‘I appreciate that, Teak.’
He winks at you and spins on his heels to take Scotch to the washing bay. ‘Consider it part of our excellent service at the Statesman Ranch, sweetheart!’
You find Jack hatless in Bourbon’s box, his eyebrows reaching for his hairline, slick with sweat, when you slip in and shut the door quietly behind you.
‘Whatcha doin’, darlin’?’ he asks with a lopsided smile.
Even though you didn’t run into anyone on your way in, you glance around to make sure you’re alone before grabbing him by the open neck of his shirt and tugging him into you. One palm on his cheek, rough with the stubble starting to peek through since his last shave at the Halfway House, you press your lips to his, blood thrumming with the thrill of sneaking around.
You catch the hitch of his breath with a wet suck on his bottom lip and he groans - too loudly in the mid-afternoon quiet. Cheeky hands wander south and grab you shamelessly by the ass, his tongue questing deep into your mouth, and you can feel him hardening against your stomach, drawing a whimper from you.
Pulling back reluctantly, his nose still on yours, he growls. ‘Such brazen behaviour.’
Your tongue darts out and swipes the underside of your upper lip, drunk on the taste of him, and his dark gaze follows. ‘I think you like it, cowboy.’
‘Too fuckin’ much,’ he admits with a pained moan and a chaste kiss to your temple, nose in your hair, as if to calm himself down. ‘You should go clean up, I need to finish up here and you’re distractin’ me.’
You pout, laying your cards on the table. ‘But I miss you.’
His gaze warms at your admission, and he stoops to kiss you again. ‘I know, but it’s only for a little while, okay? I’ll come ‘round your room to pick you up at six.’
‘Fine,’ you reply begrudgingly. ‘Be quick, ok?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he teases and swats you on the bottom playfully as he herds you towards the door. ‘I won’t be long, promise.’
Taking two steps down the corridor, you look back one last time at Jack, who’s still watching you from the stall, leaning on the top of the door. When he blows you a lingering kiss, the thought strikes you unbidden -
If it’s this hard leaving him for a couple of hours.
Feeling the tell-tale sting in your nose and the prickle of tears at your eyes, you push the thought out of your mind -
You put one foot in front of the other, and walk away.
You didn’t realise how much you missed civilisation until you surprise yourself with the longest sigh under the rain shower. Head bowed under the steady stream, you take your time, lathering yourself until you’re cocooned in olive scented bubbles before rinsing, relishing the firm water pressure soothing the knots and soreness lurking under your skin.
But there’s a deeper ache, one that can’t be reached from the surface.
You have literally not been apart from Jack for the last four days. You’ve been showering together since the Halfway House, for crying out loud. It hasn’t taken you more than the stretch of an arm to catch his hand, or the turn of your cheek to find his lips.
A laugh bubbles in your throat as you wrap yourself in a fluffy towel. The word codependent springs to mind.
Standing in the middle of the room in just your underwear, you sort through the clean clothes that are folded neatly on the bed. Pulling on the prettiest top you brought and the same pair of jeans you wore on your birthday, you dig out your makeup bag and settle in front of the vanity, putting on a Spotify playlist and humming along as you get ready for dinner.
One second you’re blending in your foundation, then the next - liner in your grasp and poised over the corner of your eye - panic rudely sets in.
What if -
What if the chemistry between the two of you was conditional on forced proximity?
What if Jack was only attracted to you because there was literally no other woman for miles and miles?
What if -
You startle at the knock on the door.
It’s deja vu when you pad across the oakwood floors on bare feet, your heart threatening to thunder out of your chest when you twist the knob clockwise.
Jack is leaning on the doorframe, freshly showered himself, damp locks curling into his forehead. The yellow flannel he’s wearing is new to you, but not the way the sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, over his sunkissed forearms.
For one moment of madness, you want to sink your teeth into the thick, sinewy -
‘What is it, darlin’?’ he asks, amused by your scrutiny.
You shrug, fingers fidgeting with a touch of shyness. ‘Just thinking about the last time you were on this doorstep.’
‘When you were swept away by my good looks and charm?’ he quips, arching an eyebrow.
You let him have this one, teasing, ‘Something like that, cowboy.’
Straightening up to his full height, he pulls you in by the waist so that you’re almost standing on the worn leather tips of his boots, the span of his palms warm on the small of your back. He doesn’t even bother checking over his shoulder before brushing a tender kiss on your lips, and it takes you right back to that first time in the field of wildflowers at dawn.
And you just know, in your heart of hearts - there is no what if.
In the middle of nowhere, up in the mountains, the sunset hour demands nothing short of worship. Miles and miles of grassland, trees and summer blooms become altars dipped in bronze at which to prostrate oneself as the sun sinks, rejoicing at the rapture of the end of day.
Whilst not as transcendent as what you experienced on the trail, the last sunset over the ranch is giving as good as it gets. The sun gilds the fields in gold on its descent as the stable hands bring in the last of the horses for the night while the swallows fly home above. The river that winds through the ranch is ablaze with the refracting light, and across the yard, you can hear the impatient whinnying of those waiting for their supper.
Jack and Tequila are setting up the barbeque and firepit, the orange glow of the twin flames taking the place of the fading daylight. The familiar scent of burning wood grounds you - you’re feeling a bit out of practice being the centre of attention after being alone with Jack for the past week.
Ice cold lemonade in one hand and buffalo jerky in the other, you smile when Ginger approaches with a hug. ‘I’m sure you’ve had to answer this question about fifty times today, but how was it?’
‘You want the short answer or long answer?’
‘I want a dissertation if you have it in you!’
You sneak glances at Jack over Ginger’s shoulder while you chat, and he watches you back from afar as he bustles in and out of the kitchen, always trailing two steps behind Poppy. You catch snippets of their conversation as they go back and forth, and you pick up enough to know that she is grilling him on the ‘food poisoning’ incident. He shoots you puppy eyes every time he passes by, which makes you grin.
You may or may not have been a bit distracted by the cowboy when Ginger asks, ‘So, did you catch Jack washing in the river in the end?’
A violent cough racks your entire body as you choke mid-swallow, and she chuckles, giving you a comforting pat on the back. ‘It’s ok, girlfriend - I don’t have to know!’
You knock back more lemonade and choose to play coy. If only she knew.
Champ is in his element, swapping out your drink for a whiskey soda as the dusk deepens and making sure the snacks platter is topped up with locally made boar and elk salami. Despite only having half an ear in the conversation while he keeps an eye on the dinner prep, he’s somehow still fully invested, and is particularly interested in the photos and videos you’ve been taking on Jack’s DSLR.
‘And that’s what you do for a livin’, young lady?’ he asks, putting on his reading glasses so he can study the photos downloaded onto your phone.
‘Adjacent. I’m in marketing, I do quite a lot of business-to-consumer social media campaigns,’ you explain, switching to Instagram to show him your employer’s profile.
Champ turns to Ginger. ‘Do we have the social media?’
She exchanges a fond smile with you. ‘No we don’t, boss, but we do have a website. I think it was last updated in 2012.’
Champ holds his chin between his thumb and index finger thoughtfully. ‘What do you think, m’dear? Should we get the social media?’
‘It depends,’ you answer truthfully. ‘If you want to boost occupancy, social media will definitely help connect new guests, and also encourage repeat visits. But if you asked me, I think the real potential is on the distillery side of the business.’
Champ perks up under his cowboy hat. ‘I’m listenin’.’
You tap the bottle of Statesman whiskey that’s sitting on the barrel table. ‘Jack told me that you only handle wholesale orders right now, which is perfectly fine. But if you want to go direct to consumers one day, social media is the way to go. I’ve worked with vineyards and gin distilleries, so I’ve seen how effective these campaigns can be.’
Humming pensively, Champ sips at his whiskey, neat, a faraway look in his eyes as he mulls over your words. ‘Well, that’s somethin’ to think about, I’d say.’
There’s no other way to end the trip than with a western cookout. The barbeque station is packed with trays of beautifully cut and aged meat from neighbouring ranches, sausages and brats, while the smoked brisket and ribs that have been cooking all day are brought out from the smoker in the kitchen.
On the side, a picnic table draped with a chequered table cloth is crammed with baked beans (smoked in-house), corn on the cob, pasta salad and soda bread; and on the greens front, there’s homemade coleslaw, potato salad and greens freshly picked from the vegetable patch.
It’s a feast of epic proportions, and it doesn’t surprise you at all that Poppy is pulling out all the stops.
Jack mans the barbeque under her supervision, wielding the tongs with showmanship, and your heart purrs at the familiar sight of him cooking by firelight as darkness well and truly sets in. You feel slightly adrift not being by his side, but Champ is keeping you entertained and well fed, piling seconds upon thirds on your loaded plate despite your protests.
By the time Teak takes over at the barbeque and Jack makes his way towards the communal table where you’re all standing, you’re sipping slowly on your third whiskey and soda. You smile at him over the brim of your tumbler which he returns, and your body leans unconsciously towards him, before remembering where you are. He tucks his right hand into his back pocket, and you want to think that it’s because if he doesn’t, he would reach out for you.
Being denied his touch when he’s right there has you shifting your feet restlessly. Your fingers itch for him, there’s an insistent prickle under your skin that you know he alone can placate.
You venture a peek at Jack, wondering if he’s faring any better than you are. Feeling your eyes on him, he turns to you, his gaze dropping to your mouth none too subtly, the muscle in his neck tensing. Caught in the moment, all you want to do is to run your tongue down the hollow of his throat and taste the smoke on his skin -
You look away in case you do anything rash.
You’re barely holding it together when the conversation moves on to your birthday at the Halfway House.
‘And how was the dinner?’ asks Poppy animatedly. ‘Did you like the cake?’
Despite yourself, you beam, ‘Like it? I loved it, thank you so much! I was so spoiled.’
‘Did Jack show you a good time?’
‘Oh I should say so,’ cuts in Tequila despite being six feet away at the barbeque. At Jack’s glare, he quickly adds, ‘He decked out the place real nice, y’know, with balloons and shit.’
With a shake of your head, you chuckle, ‘And he dressed the horses up in birthday hats and tinsel!’
With the barbeque dying down to a low, simmering flame, Poppy slides in a couple of peach cobblers in pie dishes directly onto the embers to warm up. Leaving behind gravy-stained plates stacked up high on the barrel table, the group drifts over to the low-set deck chairs sitting in a tidy circle around the firepit.
Emptying the last of the whiskey into his glass, Champ calls out, ‘Jack, m’boy, how ‘bout you run to the cellar and grab us another bottle of the fifteen years?’
‘Sure, boss,’ he replies, hanging back and catching your attention. ‘You wanna come look at the cellar, darlin’? It’s quite a sight.’
Champ is delighted. ‘What an inspired idea! Take your time, young lady, it’s not quite the distillery cellar, but we’ll save that for next time.’
Teak gives you a two-fingered salute and a knowing wink as Jack leads the way. ‘Enjoy the tour, sweetheart!’
Jack barely waits until you’ve turned the corner behind one of the barns before backing you up against the wall. You taste whiskey and woodsmoke on his tongue as he pins you in place with his broad frame, and you haul him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him.
‘I missed you, darlin’,’ he whispers against your lips.
‘I was standing right next to you, cowboy.’
‘I know,’ he whines. ‘Took everythin’ to keep my hands to myself.’
Your cheeks warm at his words, and you reach up to brush an errant curl back from his eyes. ‘Me too.’
Jack grabs your hand and takes you on what must be a shortcut to the kitchen, since you don’t recognise the route. Practically dragging you down a flight of steps at the back, he lets go of you only to pull open a heavy oak door. Your eyes widen when the orange lights flicker on, stepping into the cellar lined with hundreds, if not thousands of bottles, floor-to-ceiling shelves nestled into stone arches carved into the walls.
You wander the perimeter of the room, carefully pulling out dusty bottles high and low to inspect the years printed on the labels, but Jack is having none of it. Face nuzzled into the nook of your shoulder, he grinds his half-hard cock into you impatiently, calloused palms sliding under your shirt and squeezing your tits through your bra.
You moan, the sound echoing under the low vaulted ceilings. ‘What are you doing, cowboy?’
‘Want you now,’ he rasps into the back of your neck, teeth catching the sensitive skin.
‘What’s gotten into you?’ you ask, a laugh caught in your throat as he ruts against the cleft of your ass needily, a shudder rippling through you when you feel just how much he wants you through the denim.
‘It’s the change in altitude,’ he rasps, dry humping you in earnest now, his fingers fumbling with the front of the zipper. ‘And you’re really fuckin’ sexy in these jeans.’
‘Such a sweet talker,’ you tease, reaching behind you to undo his pants. ‘We got to be quick.’
He yanks the front of your jeans down so hard the movement jolts you forwards, flipping the denim inside out and dragging it down to the middle of your thighs, your panties going with them. His question is hot in your ear. ‘Want me to use protection, darlin’?’
You don’t skip a beat with an emphatic, ‘No.’
‘Fuck,’ he growls at your one-worded answer. ‘Lettin’ me fuck you bare? I’m one lucky cowboy.’
Your pussy throbs at his words alone, and you gasp in surprise when Jack manhandles you to the middle of the room, where a row of aged barrels rest on their sides, elevated on a sturdy shelf to keep them off the floor. He bends you unceremoniously over one cask so that your front is pressed up against the curved wooden surface, then, kicking your legs apart and notching the head of his cock at the mouth of your cunt, he sinks into you in one determined thrust.
‘Jack!’ you cry out, voice hoarse, filled almost painfully full, suspended on the tips of your toes as he plants his feet and drives into you, pulling out to the tip before plunging all the way back in, so deep you feel him in your throat. His breath is harsh and hot on the shell of your ear, but you can’t hear him over your own cries.
‘That’s it, darlin’,’ he croons throatily, his jeans rubbing the back of your thighs raw as his grip on you bites into your sides, holding you in place as you writhe. ‘Such a good girl, lettin��� me bend you over like this, takin’ me so well.’
Nails skidding over the wooden grain of the barrel as you scrabble for something to hold onto, you mewl, ‘Yes, yes, yes, feels so fucking good, cowboy!’
The slap of skin on skin bounces obscenely off the walls, and between the buck of his hips and his groans, you hear the slick squelch of your pussy stretching for him.
It seems to spur him on, and he snaps harder into you, rasping, ‘Look at you naughty thin’, lettin’ me fuck you in the middle of the cellar when anyone can walk in.’
Only then does it hit you - the absurdity of having fucked your way across the open country on this packtrip, taking for granted the liberty of literally screaming to the high heavens, free from prying eyes and ears. Juxtaposed against the sudden and very real prospect of getting caught, your body instinctively reacts.
Jack feels you clench wetly around his cock, a choked chuckle halfway in his throat. ‘Fuck, you filthy girl, you like that, don’t you? Want someone to walk in on us when I’m balls deep inside this pretty pussy?’
Your back arches, and he slides in so deep you’re sure you’ll be feeling him for days after, even when you’re a thousand miles from here. ‘Yes, yes, yes sir -’
The next thing you know, he’s gripping your hair and pulling, making you watch him over your shoulder. His eyes are black, jaw hanging open and teeth bared, and he’s gone - he’s thrusting recklessly into you, and you have no idea how your spine hasn’t snapped from being bent so far backwards. Then one rope-worn palm comes down on your right ass cheek in a cracking slap, making you gag on a half-groan, slick trickling down your thighs at the sting.
Jack leans over you now, caging you between his arms, his soft kisses on your neck an antithesis to the uncompromising rhythm at which he’s pounding into you. He coaxes, ‘Gonna cum for me, darlin’?’
Two of his fingers nudge between your legs and you whine when they make landing on your swollen clit. You nod desperately, clawing at the smooth wooden barrel under you. ‘Yes Jack, please make me cum. Please.’
‘Don’t you worry, you will,’ he says matter-of-factly, smearing mouth and tongue down the side of your neck. ‘You can do it. Make a mess on my cock, c’mon, darlin’ -’
When you clamp down around him, it takes Jack everything - everyfuckin’thin’ - not to let go and pump into you, fill that tight little cunt as you wail his name, quaking and squirming in his grasp. Air doesn’t quite reach his lungs, and he’s biting so hard on the insides of his mouth that it swells instantly, wanting so badly to mark you, to possess you in the most primal way a man can -
With a strangled groan, he pulls out, but only just - he’s already cumming before he can even wrap a fist around his cock, spurting crudely all over the swollen lips of your pussy and the curve of your ass as he milks himself dry, shudder after shudder. His spend drips so prettily down the back of your thighs, stopping just short of staining your jeans, that he goes light-headed for a moment. He sways, and if not for you grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a lazy kiss, he probably would’ve keeled over.
He looks down at the mess he made, crooning into your ear, ‘You’re so beautiful covered in my cum, darlin’.’
You squeak, startled, when he runs this thumb down your slit, still so slick and wet for him, and he has to fight the urge to fucking scoop up his cum shove it into you, filling you only to have it drool out of you when he holds the pretty lips open -
He feels your eyes on him, like you can tell what he’s thinking. He winces, shame rearing its head as he apologises, ‘I’m sorry, I got carried away. Was it - too much?’
Cupping his cheek in your palm, you pull him down for another kiss. ‘Never. I’ll take everything you’ve got, cowboy.’
Jack somehow has a handkerchief in his shirt pocket, which he brandishes with a flourish, prompting a giggle from you. ‘A gentleman if I’ve ever seen one.’
With a playful smirk, he declares, ‘Damn straight - my mama raised me right.’
Gently, Jack cleans you up, and you’re happy to let him do all the work, your body heavy and sated. When he’s done, he swivels you around and presses his lips to your temple. ‘Come back to my house tonight, darlin’?’
You tuck your nose into the crook of his neck and breathe in deeply. ‘I’d love to, cowboy.’
He’s carefully folding up the soiled handkerchief and tucking it into his back pocket when you hear footsteps on the stairs, and the two of you have barely pulled up your jeans when the door swings open.
There’s a dramatic pause as Teak takes in your dishevelled state and none too guilty faces. Looking distinctly unsurprised, he bursts into laughter nonetheless. ‘The cellar? Is nothin’ sacred to you heathens?’
The cookout winds down over bubbling hot peach cobbler and homemade vanilla ice cream that Teak collected from the freezer in the kitchen on the way back. It’s pushing ten o’clock when Champ calls it a night, and you all help with bringing the dirty dishes and leftovers inside.
Poppy and Ginger make quick work of putting all the food in tupperware and into the fridge. Jack and Teak load up the dishwasher as you finish off the last of your drink.
Champ dusts his hands, as if he’s the one who’s done all the tidying up, and asks, ‘Your flight tomorrow isn’t until afternoon is it?’
You nod, passing Jack your empty glass. ‘Yeah, I need to drop off my rental truck as well, so I think I’ll have to leave around eleven.’
He pats you on the back. ‘Alright then, we’ll see you tomorrow mornin’. Have a good night’s sleep, young lady.’
‘Say goodbye before you go,’ adds Ginger, giving you a peck on the cheek.
‘Dinner was incredible, Poppy, thank you,’ you smile as she pulls you into a warm hug.
The redhead winks at you. ‘My absolute pleasure. I’ll fix you a little takeaway lunch to go tomorrow for the journey home. No plane food allowed for our guests!’
The kitchen empties until it’s just you, Jack and Teak, with the latter grinning at you two like a lunatic. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he shrugs. ‘So you guys wanna hang, or -’
‘Get the fuck outta here, Teak!’ Jack growls.
The taller cowboy ambles over to you, joints loose with alcohol, and gives you what can only be described as a bear hug.
‘Just try keep it down, will ya? It’s real quiet in the valley at night and some of us have to work early tomorrow,’ he ribs with an insolent wink. ‘Guess we won’t see you lovebirds at breakfast?’
‘Not if you’re there,’ Jack retorts, to which Teak flashes a good-natured middle finger and saunters off into the night.
Jack draws you into his arms and you slump against him, relieved that you’re finally alone. ‘Shall we, darlin’?’
His fingers curl securely around the back of your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles at the base of yours as he closes the kitchen door behind you. It strikes you this is actually the first time you’re holding hands - there was no need for that when you were in the saddle, or camped in close proximity.
Your cheeks stretch with a smile so wide that the muscles ache. The mundanity of walking side by side, hand in hand, shouldn’t be this thrilling.
It’s quiet other than the grind of gravel under your boots and Jack’s heavier ones. The night air is sweet, the blanket of stars above you just as magical, but it’s not quite the same kind of stillness at the lower altitude. Perhaps it’s the way the sound travels with buildings and other people around, maybe the very physics of it is fundamentally different.
Turning into the parking lot, your attention is piqued by a handsome motorcycle parked all on its lonesome next to the main lodge.
Pride in his voice, Jack says, ‘Darlin’, meet the Silver Pony.’
You know nothing about motorcycles, but you can appreciate the sleek lines, the classy tan leather seat and the retro elegance about her as you circle it. Her silver paint job gleams in the lonely porch light. ‘She’s beautiful, cowboy.’
‘She’s an old girl but she got good bones. I restored her myself,’ he proclaims proudly, before admitting, ‘And well, Teak helped too.’
Opening a little cabinet attached to the side of the main lodge, Jack pulls out a helmet that has you laughing. It’s painted red white and blue, stars, stripes and the full monty, with the word WHISKEY painted across the front in bold formation.
He grins at you. ‘Found it in a yard sale. Too good to pass up.’
Lowering it over your head, he tightens the strap carefully under your chin. It’s a bit big, but it’ll do for a short ride. Blinking up at him, it brings you back to that first day in the stables, and you feel the same pull that you did when he fitted you with your hat.
Except this time, you can do something about it. Standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, you giggle when your helmet slips and knocks into his forehead with a clunk.
Putting on his own sensible black helmet, he plants his left foot by the side of the bike and swings his right leg over the leather seat.
You’re taken aback by the spike in your pulse at the sight - you’d think that having seen him on horseback all week would have prepared you for it. But there’s something about the way he leans over the top of the motorcycle, thighs wrapped around the metal body, forearms flexing as he grasps the handlebar.
Starting the ignition and knocking back the kickstand with the heel of his cowboy boot, Jack nods at you. ‘Hop on, darlin’.’
You do, and you don’t need to be told to hold on tight.
The Silver Pony purrs to a stop outside a modest cottage, about a ten-minute cruise from the ranch, down a short dirt track from the main road. It’s pitch black except for the headlights that illuminate an unexpectedly floral front garden. You hop off and take off your helmet before Jack kills the engine, plunging you into a very familiar darkness.
Switching on the light on his phone, he reaches for your hand and pulls you gently to his side, his solid warmth welcome even though it’s nowhere as chilly as it was up on the mountains. Flashing the light towards the front yard, he tells you, ‘Ginger has quite the green finger, this is all her work. It took some time, but the vegetable patch is just startin’ to come through this season.’
Keys jangling, Jack unlocks the front door and ushers you inside, flipping on the lights.
It’s a cosy space, not big by country standards, but more than spacious enough for one cowboy. It’s clearly a man’s house, with a distinct lack of decorative touches other than a vintage map of Wyoming hanging over a dining table and a crowded bookshelf by the door. Dark wood with orange knots line the floors and ceilings, the warm tones reminding you of nights around the campfire.
Walking through the tidy but lived-in space, you pass an open kitchen with a breakfast bar that backs into the living room. A rustic stone fireplace stands in the corner, bracketed by a cosy sectional with deep seats.
Jack watches you mill about, taking everything in. When you stop by the fireplace, he asks jokingly from across the room, ‘So, what’s the verdict?’
You tease, ‘Not gonna lie - I’m disappointed there aren’t more spurs and lassos on the walls.’
He chuckles and steps into the kitchen. ‘You want a nightcap?’
‘Just water thank you, I think I’ve had enough to drink.’
Filling up two glasses at the sink, he crosses the room to join you at the mantelpiece.
‘How long have you been living here?’ you ask, setting your glass on the shelf after taking a sip.
He takes a moment to reply. ‘I took a long break off work after my wife died, then moved in here straight after. Couldn’t stand bein’ in our house alone - couldn’t bear bein’ there at all.’ He pauses, and his lips quirk with a wry smile. ‘Champ and Teak packed everythin’ up for me and drove it all here.’
His honesty hits you squarely in the chest, the weight of the grief behind his words nearly knocking you back a step. You reach for him, closing the two-step distance and wrapping your arms tight around his waist.
Eyes closed, he lets you anchor him to the moment. Maybe he shouldn’t, but the confession slips right through his teeth. ‘I haven’t brought any women here. Ever.’
He holds his breath as he feels you hold yours.
You mumble into his chest, ‘You have to stop making it harder for me to leave, cowboy.’
Then don’t.
The two words are on the tip of his tongue, and for a second, he worries that he actually said them out loud. But he knows he can’t. It’s mad. It’s been a week. It’s not fair on you, not when you have a whole life back in the city, thousands of miles away, and his is right here in the shadow of the Bighorn Mountains.
So he says nothing.
Eventually, you pull back and tip your face up towards him. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the wetness lining the seams of your eyes.
‘Let’s go to bed, cowboy.’
He watches you from the doorway, where he leans idly against the frame, body relaxed from the whiskey sodas at dinner. The curtains are drawn and the light from the bedside lamp soft, casting orange shades on the walls and your skin as you shrug on the shirt he leaves out for you. The last button done, you snuggle comfortably under his sheets, and his heart lurches.
Not for the first time, the thought crosses his mind -
You look like you belong here.
‘Are you gonna stare all night, cowboy?’ you tease, sinking into the pillows.
He shrugs and closes the door behind him, shedding his clothes as he goes. ‘Can’t help it, darlin,’. You look good in my bed.’
‘It’s so comfy,’ you sigh happily, watching him strip down to his boxers.
‘It’s just the hard ground talkin’,’ he says, climbing in next to you. Bundling you into his arms and sliding one leg between yours, he kisses you, a deep exhale leaving him as he does. You smile so wide the corners of your eyes crease, and he watches as they land somewhere behind him.
His stomach drops when it dawns on him what catches your attention.
But it’s too late. You sit up, leaning over him and grabbing a hold of it with gentle hands.
You stare up at him. ‘Jack.’
He doesn’t even remember the last time he really looked at the photo. It’s there when he wakes up, when he goes to bed. It sits on the bedside table by the lamp, probably covered in dust.
Untouched.
His silence doesn’t deter you, but your tone is soft, and he understands that you’re giving him an out if he wants it. ‘What’s her name?’
His throat goes drier than sandpaper, and he’s suddenly speaking through a mouthful of cotton. It takes him two tries before he manages to enunciate. ‘Addison. Everyone called her Addie.’
‘Was this taken at your wedding?’
He nods, picking at a loose thread on the comforter.
‘Look at you all dashing in a suit, cowboy,’ you hum appreciatively, tracing a fingertip over the smart dark grey tweed jacket with navy accents. ‘Where did you get married?’
‘At her parents’ ranch.’
‘Under this magnolia tree?’
He nods again. ‘It was her favourite spot.’
‘She’s so beautiful,’ you say quietly.
His eyes dart to the photo in your grasp despite himself. Swallowing thickly, he says, ‘She’s buried there now, where she was always happiest.’
At that, you return the photo to its place on the bedside table, almost solemnly. This is usually the point when people stop asking questions, so when you snuggle into the crook of his shoulder, gazing at him expectantly, he frowns in confusion.
‘What is it, darlin’?’
‘Tell me about her.’
Jack is stumped, flustered at your request. He shifts, sitting up stiffly against the headboard. ‘Like what?’
You shrug. ‘I don’t know. Like - how did you meet?’
His answer is short, factual. ‘On the rodeo circuit. We both worked on the tour.’
You give him an encouraging nudge. ‘And? What was she like?’
‘She -’ he pauses and holds his breath, weighing his words. In the end, it’s the truth that he tells you. ‘She was the best person.’
He stutters to a stop again, but you’re still peering at him, your expression curious and open. He knows you won’t push him, he trusts that you wouldn’t. He could reach out and switch off the light right now, and he knows you’d leave it at that.
But a small part of him demurs. He doesn’t have the words to describe it, but something unsettling and hopeful at once stirs in his stomach, one that is stopping him from cutting short this somewhat unconventional pillow talk.
So he tests the words on his tongue, starting with something small. ‘She was a cat person. All the barn cats loved her, no matter where we went on the circuit.’
Watching the way your eyes smile at the detail, he feels a little lighter. He adds, ‘We literally had cats camping out in our truck, and I’m allergic, so I’d be sneezing and covered in hives on the long-distance drives between rodeos.’
You laugh, and his chest swells with the realisation that he doesn’t remember the last time any mention of his wife sparked anything but sad side glances and commiserating pats on the back - let alone joy.
Over the years, he had let go of her joy. Because it doesn’t hurt as much to mourn her this way.
And the guilt that he did this, took the easy way out, is almost too much for one soul-crushing moment - until you lay your head on his chest, unfurling one hand and pressing it into his side, literally holding him together, rib by rib.
He tells you about Addie. Things he’s been afraid to remember, but even more afraid that he had forgotten. Her likes, pet peeves, where she went to college, her favourite show, her irrational fear of butterflies, her favourite dress, the song that always got her up on her feet dancing wherever she was, whatever she was doing, when it came on the radio.
You listen, picking up on the way his voice falls back into that beautiful Southern cadence that you have come to know as he remembers his wife, nothing but love in his eyes as the guardedness fades with each memory he confides in you. You pepper the pauses with follow-up questions and playful quips where you’re draped across him, one arm folded underneath you and the other over his waist, but you feel yourself nodding off as the hour grows late.
He holds you to him, his palm spanning your lower back, until you go quiet.
Jack is tired, his own lids drooping with impending slumber, the sprint down memory lane taking more out of him than he expected. Brushing a kiss to the crown of your head, he rolls you off his front and onto your side, tucking you into the rumpled sheets. Spooning you from behind, he murmurs one last thing on the shell of your ear.
‘She would’ve loved you, darlin’.’
Notes: When I first started this series, I didn't have a backstory developed for Jack other than that his wife died eight and a half years before Darlin' comes on the scene. It's been such an organic and fulfilling journey developing his character and his history over the series, filling in the blanks as we and Darlin' got to know him better.
It's so important to me that his wife and his grief isn't pushed to one side for the sake of easy story telling. I've dropped little hints of his bereavement throughout the series, nothing too loud, but it's there in the background, my way of paying respect to one aspect of canon Jack that touches me very deeply despite the mess the movie makes of his story.
Out of all my Reader! characters, I would say that Darlin' is my most unassuming one. Not in a bad way at all, it's just that she doesn't have as loud a personality as Shiv or Pin, or as dramatic a storyline as Sweetheart. But this chapter, she just really came into her own. That last scene will stay with me forever ❤️
Edited to add a reminder that we still have one more chapter to go before we say goodbye to these two. I’m not ready 😭
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| 𝐃𝐑. 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐓. 𝟑 |
“dude you raided your closet for like the millionth time, you have cute things!” dina groaned trying to help you find a cute outfit for your lunch date with the doctor. “yeah but dina it’s a fancy restaurant! i have nothing fancy oh my god i will kill myself” you sat on the floor defeated.
“wait, wait this is so cute! and so simple what the fuck” she held up a small, plain black spaghetti strapped dress, taking the dress for her you quickly threw your pajamas on the floor and slipped into the fitted dress “dina i look like a slut” the dress riding up your legs making you pull it down only for it to ride back up.
“bro hello? where was this damn body hiding?” looking at yourself in the mirror you turned to the side to check if your ass looked good “where was all this ass y/nn?!” dina laughed slapping your ass in a friendly way “stop being gay weirdo” you laughed grabbing your makeup bag “can you get my jewelry? just like a few rings and earrings, should i wear a necklace?” you started to apply a small amount of makeup but enough to make a difference.
“yeah wear a necklace, show your tits” she joked handing you small sliver hoops, silver rings and a necklace with your zodiac sign on it. “wow can i fuck you?” dina bit her lips and rubbed her hands trying to be seductive “girl i will kill myself” she rolled her eyes before you both bursted out laughing at her stupidity.
“ok lightskin justin beiber, which shoes should i wear?” dina told you to stand up before grabbing a pair of wedged heel boots that stopped at your shins “but wear your slippers cause i don’t need you crashing while driving in those” she handed you the boots.
“girl you got legs for fucking days” and yes you did, long legs that stood out “i’ll invite you to my wedding if you behave” you messed with her before slipping in some slipper and heading out to your car.
buzz buzz
starting your engine you checked to see if it was dina trying to be annoying.
—
Hey Y/n, I’m about 10 minutes away from the restaurant. I’ll see you there Sweetheart ❤️
hiii doc, im heading out right now, cant wait 2 see you! 🫶🏼
—
parking at the closest parking spot you could find on a saturday, you quickly slipped into your boots, grabbing your one and only expensive black coach purse that your mom got you for your birthday you threw your keys in the bag. walking into the restaurant you approached the hostess stand “welcome to vue rooftop, may i get your last name for your reservation?”
oh shit
you didn’t know abby’s last name “i’m so sorry give me one second” you moved to the side to quickly text abby.
—
hey, what’s your last name?
Anderson, are you here?
—
forgetting to respond to her question you told the hostess the last name “ok ma’am please follow me to the rooftop and i’ll show you your table” she gave you a sweet smile, guiding you to a very fancy elevator that seemed to go up for a good minute “i’ve never seen an elevator be so fancied up” you commented making the hostess giggle “i know, it’s really nice, you’re with doctor anderson right?” you raised your eyebrows surprised she knew abby.
“yeah, i am! do you know her?” “yeah! she comes here all the time but never have i seen her bring someone else” you felt something explode in your stomach, your face heating up as you tried to hide your smile. finally reaching the rooftop she guided you to abby’s table “a waitress will be with you shortly, have a pleasant day” she softly placed the menu on your side.
your heart beating fast when you see abby, “hey sweetheart, let me get that for you” she got up and pulled out your chair for you before going back to hers “you look stunning y/n” you placed your phone down by the table near your glass cup “and you look amazing doctor anderson” she chuckled at the name “you can call me abby” “i know but whats the fun in that?” you shrugged, giggling as you looked down at the menu, abby’s blue orbs never leaving you.
you stared at the menu wondering what the actual fuck majority of it says, you being you the facial expressions said it all “you look confused sweetie, what’s wrong?” she farrowed her brows “i’m not dumb i swear but-“ you whispered to her not wanting the other tables to hear “what does this even say? i can’t read it” you huffed out a confused laugh “here, you can get the same thing i do when i come here” she closes your menu.
the waitress came by to take your guys order “oh and can we a bottle of bourbon please” abby smiled sweetly at the girl before handing her both of the menus “i get to choose where we go our next date” you laughed messing around with the ring wrapped around your index finger “and where would that be?” she looked you up and down.
basically eye fucking you
“chilis, my favorite restaurant” she giggled at your choice “you’re so simple” you puckered your lips giving her a silly look “not really, not reallllyyy” she raised her brows before a waiter came by to drop off the expensive alcohol that was basically your whole paycheck.
she poured you both half a glass of it, handing you your glass you twiddled with the cup, smelling the alcohol as you tried your best to hide your ‘fuck this is strong as hell’ expression “do you drink? i’m so sorry if you don’t, i should’ve asked you beforehand” she apologized profusely “no no, abby i drink but i like very fruity drinks, i’ve never had strong liquor before” you took the smallest sip from the cup almost before pushing it away slowly trying your best to hide your very expressive face.
abby laughed even harder “you’re so cute, i’ll drink it for you babe, i’ll get you sweet tea?” you nodded preferring that instead.
—
the waitress came by with the bill and placed it on the table “just flag me down whenever you’re set” she smiled before walking off “i can pay half of it at least” you took out your card, abby grabbing your hand and pushing it down, shaking her head “no, i said i would pay, don’t even think about it” you huffed “ok but can i at least tip her?” she chuckled handing you the book, opening your wallet you pulled out a fifty dollar bill and placed it in the book “you think that’s a good tip?” “i think that’s more than enough ms. generous” she smiled.
after paying you guys headed back down “do you want to grab something sweet? i can show you a great ice cream place” she put her black leather jacket on before you two headed over to her car “oh my god is this a vintage bronco?” you gawked at her black car, amazed at how intact and beautiful it is “yeah, i restored it myself, i have a thing for fixing older cars” she opened the door for you to get in “oh we’ll have to come back because i parked my car in the garage” you hopped in dying at the beige leather interior.
—
she pulled up to this small outdoor soft serve place, waiting in line you felt yourself getting shivery and cold, feeling your nose and fingertips get colder by the minute, abby taking a notice quickly slips off her jacket to wrap around you “how are you cold sweetie? it’s only sixty-five degrees” she rubbed your shoulders trying to warm you up, you giggled looking up at her “sorry, i just get cold so fast out of nowhere it’s so annoying because i can never wear anything cute” you fake pouted “my friends like to make fun of me and call me cold blooded because i’m always cold” you two giggled.
“c’mere” she wrapped her giant arms around your frame, pulling you into a warm embrace, her hand on the back of your head rubbing your hair.
after getting your ice creams you guys sat in her car, as she heated the car up a tiny bit for you “what flavor was yours again?” you were licking up your ice cream cone making sure nothing dripped onto her car.
abby sucked in the air watching you, jaw tensing up, eyes never leaving your mouth “uh, sorry uh” she let out a breathy laugh “i got strawberry shortcake” you looked at her with your big doe eyes, confused why she was acting strangely.
“you got something on your face” she wiped her thumb slowly against the side of your sweet lips “thank you” you smiled sweetly at her “oh shit” she checked the time on her watch “work?” you questioned “mhm, i’m so sorry sweet girl, i’ll drop you off to get your car then i’ll have to head out ok?” you nod a little sad the date ended already.
AUTHORS NOTE: yall dont EVEN my adhd is hyping me up so much im already writing part 4 SHORTIES
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long. day. [Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader]
You screamed. You screamed your head OFF in the bathroom of your work. You just got done with a 12 hour shift and by the end of the day, there were so many people, so many Karen’s complaining about the food that’s gone wrong or would call you—
the night shift manager, telling you how horrible your employees were and that you needed to fire them. You argued back and forth with this one girl for ten minutes, saying your employer did nothing wrong and did what the girl asked to do. Get her order correct and serve. Your employer did as told, and the only simple thing that went wrong was that the kid forgot the damn freaking sauce. SAUCE.
You groaned, turning on the faucet to cold to splash your face. After a few seconds, your phone dinged on the marble counter. Mike had texted you and you immediately smiled at the screen in front.
Mike❤️:
Hey baby I’m coming over to pick you up
You placed your phone in your back pocket, a smile plastered on your face as you walk out and into the dining crowded area. Your eyes widen as you see your coworkers and managers struggle.
This was a rush dinner that never usually happens, so you slid carefully behind your coworkers to hide you from the people but the one said girl who gave you so much trouble had spot you, and she was talking to another manager yet again. This time, probably about you though. Your manager friend just shooed you away, giving you an apologetic smile.
Walking your way to the back, your phone buzzed in your pocket.
Mike❤️:
Baby, I’m here
You smiled, waving goodbye to your boss as you head your way up to the front. Mike was leaning on one of the walls. You were about to make your way up to him when all of a sudden, the same girl from earlier came by. “Excuse me,” she sassed. Your eyebrows tcked with annoyance, your face twitched.
“I’m sorry, but if you’re here to complain more to me I cannot help you. I’m off of work hours.” You gave her an annoyed smile look. “Uh, not for me you are.” She said. Your eyebrows raised. “Ma’am. I’ve worked for twelve hours today. Please do not push your limit.” You spoke like you had an angry tone, but in reality you were tired and just wanted to go home.
She scoffed, “excuse me? I’ll have you know I—” Mike had cut her off. “She’s. Off. Work. Hours,” you had to hold him back from going any closer to her, cause knowing karens in the business of hours, she’d probably report him and report you to your boss (which your glad your boss wouldn’t believe her anyways).
“Are you working here? No so, stop cutting me off. Your little slu—“ your eyes widened as a coworker, a minor, came over, all you did next was cover her mouth. “If you finish that sentence, I’ll have you banned from this store. Don’t you ever talk dirty here, there are kids underage. We’re here to keep them in a safe happy environment and what you’re doing is the opposite.” Her eyes widened at your movements, she pushed you off and scoffed, walking out the door and to her car.
Your boss was watching from the counter, giving you a thumbs up and a smile. “I’m so sorry about what you almost had to hear J.” You gave him a sympathetic smile. He shrugged, “sorry you have to deal with that b-word.” You chuckled at his response, “well have a nice rest of your shift. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you waved goodbye to your boss and coworkers, Mike doing the same and slowly walking behind you. He knew you were still a bit pissed off with the lady that almost insulted you in front of your coworkers.
As you opened and closed the door to Mikes car, you dropped your shoulders and the look of happiness off of your face. You looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m so sorry you had to deal with her baby,” his hands reached your thigh but all you wanted was no one to touch you at the moment right now. So you grabbed his hand, and placed it on his own thigh. “Long. Day. Let’s just drive home, okay?” You spoke with such softness, your face worn out with the look you gave him.
It was a quiet yet comfortable silence drive back to the house, the two of you walked side by side as Mike held your jacket for you. He opened the door, you thanked him and walked inside. Abby was drawing on the floor with the T.V turned on, one of her favorite cartoons playing. “You’re home!” She rushed over to you but was stopped by Mike, he explained in a soft whisper as she watched you walk past her and into the shared bedroom. She nodded and nodded at the directions Mike gave her, ran off into her room and closed the door.
Mike took off his shoes, walking over to the bedroom you were in. He saw you leaning on the bathroom counter with a defeated sigh. “I love my job, but god sometimes people like her make me want to quit.” You mumble, rubbing your shoulder as you tried to crack your neck. “All I know is you did an amazing job baby,” Mike came from behind you, his arms slowly but hesitantly wrapped around your waist. His head fit perfect as he placed it in between your neck and shoulder. “You did great out there,” he whispered, kissing your cheek and giving you more and more praise.
You smiled lightly as you looked at him through the mirror. “Can you help me take a shower? I’m just too tired to do anything right now.” He nodded. The two of you got undressed, you waited just a bit till the shower got warm then hopped in and Mike followed after you.
He did what was told, he washed your body, your face, and hair. “You were so amazing. You held the front up. All because of you.” Mike praised you once more, giving you a nice soft kiss to the lips. You smiled into it as you closed your eyes, “I love you.” He smiled back, kissing your cheek.
“I love you too.”
A/N:
Guys idk how to feel abt this but I’ve been so exhausted hence the one week break I took, sorry for not posting! But I hope yall like this one. If not, yall can always rq whatever you want to read!
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Guitar practice 5
family escapades
summary: family day goes exactly how you expected, enid and wednesday are probably going to make you go grey by the time schools out
warnings: drug use, violence, swearing if i’ve missed any lmk
a/n: sorry it took me so long to get this out guys :0 just to make it clear this is callum speaking this is rs thoughts happy reading-🦷 ❤️
———————————————————————
You shuffle around in your seat for what must be the 30th time in the last 5 minutes, your eyes dart up from the table and land on your mother she’s got fat you try and fail to hide the snort that leaves your lips at the untimely comment “something funny, little torch?” the nickname has you gritting your teeth “no ma’am” your brother leans across the bench “I heard your taking a girl to that stupid school dance” you freeze “yeah the raven” your mother cocks an eyebrow “a girl? What we raised someone gay now?” y/n cool it you take a breath “looks like it Tracy” “jack what you think of this” jacks your second oldest brother born 2 years after callum you don’t like to admit it, but he scares you 6ft and all muscle.
“I think I gotta teach our little torch a lesson” your head turns at the comment looking for enid your heart sinks at the realisation that the only other family in the quad are the addams’s “no common please” your aware of how small your voice is and you don’t like it before she can reply your being hauled out of your seat and a fist connects with your stomach he grabs the back of your hoodie pulling you towards the exit, panic floods through you and in a last ditch effort to avoid whatever your oh so loving family has in store for you a name falls from your lips “enid” it’s small at first but the further away from the bench jack drags you and the more you thrash the louder you get and soon your crying out her name “enid enid please” “shut up” your brother grunts as he throws you on the stairs.
From your angle on the floor you realise that Wednesday isn’t sat with her family huh? Is that really what I should be thinking about right now? Cover your head y/n fuck cover your head cals voice snaps you out of your thoughts and your arms shoot up to cover your head unfortunately not in time to stop the kick that leaves you seeing starts “fuck” you groan out and brace yourself for the next blows that surprisingly don’t come, when your vision finally clears you see enid thank you thank you thank you and Wednesday she has a knife to jacks throat “now you get away from my child” your mothers hurrying towards your little huddle “enid?” she’s by your side as soon as she hears your voice “im here, I got you” black dots start swimming in your eyes as a tall figure steps out protectively infront of you “and you stay away from mine” yes ma you tell the bitch the world goes black.
When you wake theres a hand in yours and a very worried looking weems stood by the end of your bed “ma” she smiles “your ok” “is that a question or a statement because if it’s a question the answers no” enid chuckles from your side “she’s fine” she kisses your forhead and stands “i’ll give you guys some space” you nod and as soon as the curtains slip shut you eye your hands and let out a sheepish “hi ma” larissa let’s out a dry chuckle “I thought i said no letting my sister visit y/n” she’s mad and you know it “ma im sorry” she hums “detention, 2 weeks with miss thornhill” you groan “yes mam, could you send enid in?” she leaves without another word and enid pops her head in “you called” you give her a toothy smile “come cuddle” she clambers into your bed in the infirmary with the grace of an exited puppy and pulls you into her chest you nuzzle your head into her neck happily “hey you and Wednesday?” enid sighs “we had a little chat, actually it was interrupted when I heard you calling for me” you bury your head into her neck in embarrassment “oh god don’t remind me” she traces love hearts on the back of your neck “what were you and nes talking about” “I think me and her should finish that convo before I get you involved babe” “babe huh? What are we girlfriends” you wiggle your eyebrows and she giggles “not yet miss eager, soon maybe” “ohhhh only maybe? Nah I get it the pyro isn’t good enough for you” she rolls her eyes “whatever you say y/n, now get some rest” you smile as your eyes get heavy.
Your head throbs as you crack your eyes open for the second time today, enid is nowhere to be found and you ignore the pang of hurt that flashes through you, opting to send her a text
7:34pm
(y/n): hey, woke up and you were gone :(
You set your phone aside as someone peeks in at you “she’s alive!” you giggle at your roommate “unfortunately” she climes into bed next to you pulling you in for a hug “you have a concussion, they cleared you to go back to your dorm I came to get you” she catches how your face falls “what’s up n/n” “enid left without a goodbye” yoko gasps “does this call for our first girls night of the year” you swat at her knee “your far too exited but yes I gotta fill you in”
You grab another biscuit as you lay with your head in yokos lap looking up at her as she lights the 3rd splif of the evening “I don’t know it’s like she’s there and then she’s not” you huff and steal the splif “we haven’t even spoken about matching outfits for the raven and it’s this weekend” ghosted “oh shut up callum your not helping” yoko raises an eyebrow “have you texted her recently” you shoot up “yes hours ago” you reach for your phone that you’d haphazardly thrown at your pillows in frustration.
8:04pm
(enid❤️): hey baby sorry I had some stuff to sort out
You leave her on seen, “one message, one singular message” you put on a voice “I had some stuff to sort out” you take another hit passing it back to yoko “let’s go for a midnight walk, please?” she stands and shrugs her coat on, she knows better than to try and say no to you. You strut down the corridors yoko following happily before passing you the splif when you reach the quad, you all but throw yourself on the fountain in frustration giggling at the way yoko looks from this angle not to be a snitch but enid’s trying to slink off over there your head shoots up and you see her and Wednesday scurrying off what the fuck? “addams” your voice echo’s through the empty quad and she freezes, enid turns around and clasps her hands infront of her “baby he” “don’t” you cut her off eyes not leaving the goths back “come, raven” ohhh your in your manipulative girl era ok that was kinda funny you watch as the notoriously uncaring girl falls over herself to get to you, your well aware of what’s coming so you stand not wanting you both to be thrown into the fountain reaching your hand out offering the splif back to yoko “3 then im killing it” again she knows not to argue. Wednesdays small form collides into you, her hands grabbing at the back of your jacket like you might disappear, she presses a soft kiss to your collarbone and sniffles slightly.
You push her away as enid approaches a shy smile on her face, yoko hands you the splif here we go “we need to talk” you hum, unsatisfied with her choice of words “I gathered that, your dorm or mine” Wednesdays hand grabs your sleeve and enid reaches for her wrist pulling you along “ours” what is this? Peter pan? Yes im going to follow you both to your dorm in a line you pause i’d follow you both anywhere actually you shoot a look at yoko over your shoulder pulling the only half smoked gone out splif from your mouth holding it in your hand “text me” she calls “i’ll come get you” you give her a stiff nod before your whisked out of view.
———————————————————————
taglist: @thedemoninme141 @alphaniner1415 @ctrlamira @allison-iloveyou
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ma’am PLEASE do another part of victoria de angelis at coachella i’m begging 🥺🥺🥺
WHO MISSED BANDMATE!YN ??? WELL SHES BACKKKK (CHECK THE STORY MASTERLIST)
if you liked this please consider supporting me
ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !
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yourinstagram i’m playing coachella with my boyfriend this april. no biggie.
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harryfan1 IM GOING INSANE
damianodvd i’m going to pee my pants
↳ harryfan2 SAME
↳ harryfan3 lol remember when we didn’t like him
harrystyles So happy to be doing this with you❤️
↳ harryfan1 A HEART AND EVERYTHING !??
↳ harryfan4 ahhh they started their relationship on tour and now they’re doing coachella together. my heart
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harryupdates Harry (and also Sarah and Mitch) via YN’s instagram stories, they’re rehearsing for Coachella !
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harryfan1 OMG ITS HAPPENING
harryfan2 the best part of harry and yn dating is that she gives us a lot of content
harryfan3 IM SO EXCITED
harryfan4 the boyfriend material
liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 4,826 others
harryupdates HARRY VIA INSTAGRAM STORIES
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harryfan1 OMFGGGG
harryfan2 he’s such a simp
harryfan3 i thought harry was not touching instagram again after tour but yn made him be active again i’m so happy
harryfan4 HARRYCHELLA READY
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harrystyles Coachella, April 2022.
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harryfan1 BEST SHOW EVER !!!
damianodvd ROCKSTAR 🤘🏻🤘🏻
↳ harryfan2 bestiesss
yourinstagram love on coachella 🥺🥺
↳ harryfan3 ahhh that’s so cute
liked by harrystyles, pillowpersonpp and 701,726 others
yourinstagram last night was a dream come true. i can’t believe this is my job. THANK YOU 🤍
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harryfan1 IM NOT OVER IT
damianodvd i’m so proud of you, fake girlfriend
↳ yourinstagram STOP 😭
↳ harryfan2 NOOO WAY
annetwist ❤️❤️❤️
_basselin And we go again next week 🤘🏻
taglist: @cucciolafaerie @jelliebeanss @maria-r @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @whitechocolaterry @sunflowervolume66 @lollypopsx x @multiplums @89evrs @enchantedprincess @trulymadlykiki @piscesrecord @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ivegotparticulartaste @springholland @harryhoney-bee @harrysgloves @ayeshathestyles @comfort-reads @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @sleutherclaw @japanchrry
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Hello my dear ❣️. Still love your writing and I’ve been missing it dearly the last months (that’s totally on me, not on you 😘). Can I make a request for Bish with prompt 3. “I’ll wait out here all night. I ain’t leaving until you listen to what I gotta say.” And could you make it dark? 👀
Love you ma’am! ❤️
Hello my sweetheart! Anything for you, so here we go, some dark n' angsty with Bish for you. Love you, too!
The house feels empty without him and his possessions, every last trace of him packed into boxes and left on the drive, waiting for him to collect. You would have tossed it all out there with as little feeling as he showed towards your marriage vows, had you not been so insufferably neat.
Looking around, the spaces where his things once occupied feel vast, the way his interests mingled with yours always seeming so perfect, from the artwork by Mexican painters he was always so proud to display, to the music collection that once took up a now baren shelving unit, the separation of possessions is what hammers home the separation of you and him.
It still makes you feel sick to ponder, the reason why your six year marriage came to such a screeching, abrupt halt. How could he? How could he do that to you?
This Obispo, the one whose infidelity finally surfaced just five days ago, is not the same man you married. Well, you tell yourself that. The evidence suggests otherwise. When headlights beam in through your living room window, that sickness you feel rises like a tide, your estranged husband arriving in a van to collect everything out there waiting for him.
Your heart lurches when you see him step out, the part of you that still loves and misses him despite who he truly is beneath it all longing for his arms, the place you always felt so warm and safe.
Never, ever again. Not after this.
You watch him load the boxes into the van, making short work of the task, hoping that he makes an equally speedy retreat. No such luck. Your jaw sets and your heart somersaults with sadness when you watch him approach the front door, knocking upon the glass panel.
"Fuck off, Obispo," you call, knowing your voice will carry through the open living room window.
"Sweetheart, come on. We gotta talk."
You scoff, unable to prevent anger and indignance from propelling your feet across the floor, flinging the front door open, your face tightly pinched with incredulity. "We don't have to talk at all, and I am not you're damned sweetheart. Not any longer, you sack of shit."
He sighs, scratching his stubbly face. He finally shaved the beard off, of which you never thought suited him, much preferring the thick mustache and heavy stubble he now sports once again. “I’ll wait out here all night. I ain’t leaving until you listen to what I gotta say.”
"Listen to what you've got to say?" Your statement is delivered through gritted teeth, taken aback and awash with rage that this man truly thinks anything he has to say will improve upon the mess between you both. "There is nothing you have to say that I could possibly want to hear. Nothing can make what you did better!"
"Baby, please, let me explain. I..."
"Stop it!" you scream, your fists balling. "There's nothing to explain! You can't explain away the fact that you've spent the entirety of our marriage fucking other women behind my back! You can't explain away the fact you had, what was it, seven side chicks over the course of six years, and Christ knows how many other bike bunnies you poked your dick in, too!
"Let's not forget the fact you got one of them pregnant, of course, her and her big ole' baby bump showing up here to tell me all about it! How is Maria, by the way? Still out of her damned mind to be shacking up with you? In fact, don't even answer that. I don't want to hear it. Never wanted kids with me, but when some little nineteen-year-old tramp comes along, oh yeah, that's good enough for you, isn't it?"
Slamming the door, you leave him there on the porch, tearing through the house as the bile rises in your throat, throwing the bathroom door open to expel the contents of your stomach into the toilet. That's what makes you the most nauseous, the fact his side piece had the gall to turn up at your home and gloat to you, show off the full swell of her pregnant belly, something you've wanted with him for the entirety of your marriage, something he always said 'maybe one day' over whenever you brought it up.
He's off playing happy fucking families with her, and where are you? Crying on the floor of your bathroom, the taste of vomit like poison upon your tongue, all alone. No husband, no baby, no nothing.
Maybe the fact you never had children together is a good thing, though, so they didn't have to grow up with a man like that for a father. You pity his unborn offspring, with those two as parents, a man who can't keep it in his pants, and a woman so adept in moral turpitude that she'd weaponise her pregnancy purely to hurt a woman she doesn't even know.
Despite his statement that he wouldn't leave until you'd heard what he had to say, you find him gone by the time you arrive back in the living room, sitting down with your head in your hands, tears falling over the wedding band and engagement ring you're still not strong enough to slide from your finger.
Diamonds might be forever, but the man who gave them to you certainly isn't.
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࿔*:・゚Co-Stars | H.S
↝ pairing: Actress!reader x Harry Styles
↝ faceclaim: Daisy Edgar Jones
↝ summary: You and Harry are co-stars—that’s it.
↝ warnings: spelling errors? Some mistakes, cursing.
↝ a/n: There’s a high chance that this will be a series made up of social media aus, blurbs, etc :) probably a little boring since it’s the first post but you guys can decide, my asks are always open if you want more of this :)
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enews Tastes like strawberries🍓! Harry Styles and Y/n L/n were spotted sharing a smooch on the set of “Sunshine” in London. Link in bio for a sneak peak of their new film together✨
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harryfan1 how do you manifest being Y/n???
harryfan2 she’s so lucky ugh😩😩
ynfan1 I too would be gripping onto Y/n like that if I were in her presence
critic1 How do you have a talented actress like Y/n work on the same film as a wannabe actor like Harry???
harryfan3 if he was a “wannabe” actor, he wouldn’t have been in a Christopher Nolan movie🙄
ynfan2 don’t know who I wanna be, Y/n or Harry 😭😭
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harryflorals HARRY ON THE SET OF SUNSHINE TODAY
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harryfan4 HE’S SO??????😭😭😭
harrysgrapejuice THE PANTS THE HAIR AHHHHHHHHHHH
harryfan5 IM SCREAMING AT WORK
harryfan6 I WASNT EXPECTING THIS TODAY LORD HAVE MERCY
harryfan7 bless whoever did his hair today😮💨
harryfan8 on my knees rn🧎♀️🧎♀️
harrysh0use what a colorful pretty boy🥺
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ynscamera Iubi on set today!💕
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ynfan3 someone tell her to stop running, she’s clumsy😭
ynfan4 tag yourself, I’m the bag of crisps
ynfan5 Genuinely excited about the movie, but I have no clue what it’s about💀
ynscamera Everyone’s very hush hush about it, I’ve literally tried figuring out the plot through the clothes but I’m still confused🙃
harryfan9 what does iubi mean?
ynscamera it means sweetheart, baby, or darling in Romanian:) Sebastian Stan gave her the nickname after they worked on Fresh together!
harryfan9 @ynscamera oh, that’s actually so cute🥺
ynfan6 They’ve been filming for like months I need the trailer😩😩
ynfan7 her side profile is just perfect I’m jealous
ynfan8 The fact that Harry gets to work and talk with her everyday
ynfan9 I wanna be Harry Styles
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harryflorals HARRY AND Y/N BEING COMFY ON SET
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ynfan10 a couple of babies❤️
harryfan10 cuties literal cuties
ynscamera I wanna know what they talk about
harryfan11 I bet they talk about their favorite types of wine😌
ynfan11 @ynscamera do you think she’s shown him pictures of her dog yet??
ynscamera @/harryfan11 I’d be surprised if she hasn’t done it yet
ynfan12 I CANT WAIT FOR THIS MOVIE AHHHHHH
harryfan12 Can she pls release pictures from set, I know she has them on her camera👀
liked by harryflorals, cou_cou, and 67,497 others
ynscamera Y/n and Harry out for dinner in London!! 🍽 #sunshine
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harryflorals LOOK AT MY FAVES
harryflorals I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
harryfan11 I TOLD YALL THEY DRINK WINE TOGETHER😤😤😤
ynfan13 I know we said we weren’t gonna ship them—but guys😩😩
ynfan14 PLEASE TELL ME YOU SAW THEM TAKING PICTURES OUTSIDE?????
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harryflorals HARRY AND Y/N TAKING PICTURES AFTER DINNER
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ynfan15 YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM
ynscamera not them being in a silly goofy mood together😩
ynscamera @/yourinstagram miss ma’am I can’t be shipping you with another white male PLEASE
harryfan13 UM HELLO?? FLORENCE PUGH LIKED THE POST
harryfan14 HIS HAND ON HER BACK SO SHE DOESNT FALL BYEEE😩😩
harryfan15 sleeping on the highway tonight🤪
ynfan16 I love how the major Harry and y/n fan accounts are just merging and becoming one
ynfan17 FLORENCE LIKED
harryfan16 FLORENCE FREAKING LIKED
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ynscamera Y/n and Harry spotted on set today✨ (submitted by @/ilovemitchrowland)
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ilovemitchrowland Guys I saw them with my own eyeballs
harryfan17 YOURE SO LUCKY
harryfan18 I’m so jealous😭
ilovemitchrowland they were literally so adorable, you can hear the two of them laughing from across the street🥺
ynfan18 hear me out maybe it’s not a bad idea to ship them👀
harryfan19 God, I’ve seen what you do for others—
ilovemitchrowland and Harry’s so sweet, Y/n was practically jogging to catch up with him so he slowed down so they can walk together🥲
ynfan19 bless them🥺🥺🥺
harryfan20 I’m crying that’s so fucking sweet
ynfan20 I forgot how tall Harry is and seeing him next to Y/n’s short ass reminded me of how much he resembles the height of a bloody tree
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Part two of sneaky suspicions. Where as soon as Elvis pulls out to cum on y/ns naked body, the mom walks in but Elvis can’t stop and is moaning (partly from embarrassment) as his dick is twitching with cum squirting out and the mom is in utter shock and is frozen just staring with mouth open as her daughter is screaming get out trying to cover the two of them with a blanket but she doesn’t leave maybe she starts yelling at them right there and Elvis is a panting mess but still hard and on the verge of another orgasm under the small blanket they are covering with.
Sneaky Suspicions, PT 2
Note: Damn Anon 🥵 y’all givin’ some good ideas! I hope this serves ya well!!! Thanks for the idea! ❤️ (I wrote this so fast on my phone y’all. So it might be a little rough. I am speed…)
Warning: FILTH!!! Minors DNI! 18+!!
“Elvis, my m-mama’s gonna come up here! Please,” Elvis continues to rut against you, the tip of his cock rubbing just right against your clit,” E-Elvis. Oh my god.” You panted as he all but growled as he felt your wetness coat his cock.
“Baby-,” he groans into your neck, littering your throat in even darker marks,” Y/N, I’m sorry I can’t stop myself. Fuck, darlin’. You’re so wet!” His voice came out whiny and breathy as his thrusts became faster and harsher. The pressure of his cock rubbing between your folds has got you gripping his shoulders harshly. Your fingernails scraping down his toned back. You lip caught between your teeth.
“Please, Elvis. I want more. Please. I’m gonna cum, Elvis~“ His lips cut you off as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as the white hot haze shakes your body.
“Oh god, darlin’. You look so fuckin’ good. Holy shit- I’m right there, baby.” His hips seem to sputter as you whimper over the overstimulation of the head of his cock repeatedly rubbing you in the most sensitive thought. Your thoughts running rampant. He needed to be inside of you right now. He pulled away from your body and jerked his cock off above you. His voice cracked as he released his climax onto your tits. His hips still thrusting in the air as his release continues. You’re about to drag a finger through his cum but-
“Y/N L/N! I’ve called you-“ A scream fills your room as Elvis continues to pant above you. He looks between you and your mama as he still moans as his cock twitches above your stomach. His groans amplified as his body flushes in embarrassment. Your mother looks as white as a ghost as you clumsily grab a small blanket that covers at least the more graphic side of you two. You try to explain yourself as you rack your brain for answers.
“Mama get out! Get out!!!”
“Y/N…I-“
“Mama it isn’t what it looks like!”
“It looks like your banging a damn greaser in my house!” She threw her hands in the air in defeat. Elvis’ cock grinds against the back of you. You smack him but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t know what’s come over him. His sexual desire can’t cease as he can still see your bare skin. He sat up a little bit and your mama gasped.
“Not just any damn greaser, ma’am. Nice to meet ya, Mrs. L/N. I’m, uh, Elvis Presley.” He smiled as your mama scoffed. That’s when the unexpected happens. You’d been so focused on the adrenaline of being caught and your mama seeing Elvis Presley CUM on you. You gasp as you feel the tip poke at you. You try to ignore him as your mama continues to rant. His cock breaches your entrance and you slam a hand to your mouth as Elvis whimpers softly into your ear.
“Elvis Presley?! I need a minute to think about this, young lady. God damn kids.” She shuts the door as she leaves and Elvis changes your position so he’s on top of you once again.
“I’ll need a minute with you as well,” he thrusts his hips forward slowly as your back arches,” a little more than that, lil’ mama. Fuck, you look like a d-dream. I-I’m sorry you just feel fuckin’ amazin’, baby.” He stutters as you clench down onto his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist trying to pull him closer into you.
“Fuck, Elvis. Gimme more, baby. I need you to fuck me so bad.” You cry into his neck as his pace picks up. His groaning becoming louder as if daring your mother to try to say something again. You feel his cock twitch inside you, leading his hand to rub your clit.
“Cum on my cock, darlin’. That’s it, baby,” He sputters as your pussy clenches on his cock,” Fuck baby I’m gonna cum if you do that. Your pussy feels so fuckin’ good. Like it was made for me.” You nod and pull him as close to you as you can. You whine as his cock grinds into you at a harder pressure than before.
“C-Cum in me, Elvis. I wanna feel it, Elvis. Please, I need it-“ you continue to beg and he cuts you off with a particularly hard thrust and that same feeling from before overwhelms your senses as your body convulses. A stream of thank you’s flow from your mouth as his brutal pace continues. A smirk flashes across the man’s face as you continue to babble and moan. Tears flowing down your face. His hips halt and you feel the blazing hot sensation as he twitches inside you.
“H-Holy shit, Y/N. God damn, mama.” His body and voice shakes as he pulls out of you. He smooths your hair down and shushes you as you continue to shake.
“I’m right here, Y/N. I gotcha,” you grasp onto his body as he lifts your dress up and smooths it. He kisses your head and carefully gets off your bed. You grab his arm, worried,” what is it, darlin’?”
“W-Where are you goin’?” He smiled and placed a soft kiss to your trembling lips.
“I’m gonna get you some water and apologize for flashin’ your mama. I gotta make sure she’s alright with me datin’ her daughter.”
After that whole show you weren’t too sure she’d agree. I mean that was one hell of a show…Elvis the Pelvis had a whole new meaning…
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I don’t know if someone’s done this before.
If my Skyrim OCs had Tumblr
👑Stormcrown-Queen
What would happen if I took over the empire? Like, what would they do? Stop me?
🪖General-Tullius follow
This is what’s wrong with the Empire these days. No respect for the Empire.
👑Stormcrown-Queen
Quiet.
52k notes
🧝♀️elven-overlord-elenwen follow
Why is it that the lesser races of man won’t accept our rightful rule? @earwyn-the-waterelf
🧜♂️earwyn-the-waterelf
I do not know ma’am. Maybe our methods aren’t as good as we think.
🧝♀️elven-overlord-elenwen follow
You question me, Half-breed?
🧜♂️earwyn-the-waterelf
Of course not ma’am.
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🐟the-fish-elf
Guys, let’s bully Elenwen off the site. She refers to her own subordinate as “half-breed”.
🪄circe-the-alchemist
Also the racism
👑Stormcrown-queen
And the genecide
🐟the-fish-elf
I thought all that was obvious and it was unnecessary to mention.
🧝♂️elven-supremacy
You dare try to “cancel” our lady Elenwen!!
🐟the-fish-elf
Shut up Ondolemar.
25k notes
☀️daylight-dawnbreak follow
I’m tired of vampire sympathizers. They’ll literally kill you. You’re not the exception
🩸nocturnalbatboy follow
Oh and the Dawnguard are so much better? They literally kill people just because they suspect they’re vampires?
☀️daylight-dawnbreak follow
That happened once!!
🩸nocturnalbatboy follow
And that makes it okay??? Besides, the Dawnguard are total hypocrites! I heard they have a vampire working with them!!
☀️daylight-dawnbreak follow
You leave Serana out of this!
🧛♀️bloodbabe
No, seriously. Leave me out of this.
🩸nocturnalbatboy follow
Serana!!!!!!❤️❤️❤️
🧛♀️bloodbabe
Aaaaaand blocked.
105k notes
🏹greenpactalchemy
Hello to all my Bosmer and Bosmer affiliated alchemists! Today we’ll be going over a green pact friendly healing potion! So, there are a few ingredients that can be used, but some are not readily available for the average Wood Elf, such as a Daedra Heart. But others you can find solely off foraging. If you crush up a blue dart wing, combine with the shell of a Rock Warbler egg, and mix in Ash Hopper Jelly, you’ll get a concoction that will not only heal your wounds, but also grant you a resistance to shock damage, all while staying well in the bounds of the Greenpact!
🗻Son-of-Skyrim-435 follow
So you support cannibalism? Typical knife ears.
🏹greenpactalchemy
???????
🌳daughter-of-Valenwood
We got a live on boys.
12k notes
🥳Haskillthemanic follow
Will someone please help me find my master?
🌘Daedric-seducer
No😊
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Eren Y. || Campus Creeper
Warning: mentions death, blood, swearing
Genre: angst
Pairing: Eren Y. x Black reader
Happy Halloween! Stay safe!❤️👻
For Halloween you and your boyfriend decided to go with something simple but classic, ghost face. Well more like he was ghost face and you dressed up as a sexy bloody victim, either way it was a good costume.
“Hey have you seen my thigh garter?” You asked Eren as you looked under the piles of clothes that somehow found its way to the floor.
“No check your vanity” he answered unsurely “and please hurry up we’re gonna be late.”
You rolled your eyes “when are you ever on time for a party Eren? You’re known to be fashionably late” you mocked throwing up air quotes. Eren smacked his lips glaring at you “you’re not cute now hurry up” you giggled knowing for a fact you were irking his nerves.
After a few minutes of searching you found it and slid it up your thigh. Taking some time to check your outfit again Eren yanked your wrist eagerly rushing you out the house almost yanking your arm off. You two finally made it but you started feeling a bit nervous. “Ooh I’m so excited I haven’t been out in so long” you giddily smile as you took Eren hand stepping out the car.
“Can I say you look gorgeous” he smirked eyeing you up and down, you shyly smiled looking away. “Oh stop Eren you should see yourself, girls are gonna be all over you” and it’s true for some reason girls like hot guys in a mask, you for sure was drooling over him “and you better behave” you added with a warning glare.
He raised his hands in surrender “yes ma’am” he smirked winking at you “now let’s get this party started!” You playfully rolled your eyes you for sure knew he had a few shots before you both left home.
————————————
You were chatting in the kitchen with a random girl you just met while your sipped on your drink. You chose to stick with juice because you for sure knew Eren was getting shit faced tonight and you’ll have to drive home.
“Girl have you heard of the Campus Creeper?” You shook you head no in confusion.
“The campus who?”
“The Campus Creeper” she exclaimed “he or she is responsible for like six students disappearing” you looked at her furrowing your eyebrows.
“Has he been caught yet?” your question was met with a sigh and a head shake.
“Not even one lead and to make things worse the students have nothing in common the killer is just targeting anyone” you nodded feeling a little uneasy as you looked off into the living room.
Something about that news made you feel weird. Maybe it was because it was Halloween night and you were at a frat party full of people you didn’t know, but you couldn’t shake this queasiness in your stomach.
“Hey I’ll be back I’m gonna go find my boyfriend” the girl nodded leaning against the counter taking down a another shot “you be safe ok?” You added before leaving.
You threw your cup away while before leaving the kitchen. Since the ghost face costume was common you had a little trouble finding Eren so you walked around calling his name. The longer it took the more frustrated you were becoming pushing through the sweating bodies with the loud music blasting through your ears. You made it to an empty hallway and leaned against the wall, you were becoming breathless and aggravated, you were pissed and ready to go.
While trying to catch your breath you felt a tap on your shoulder, you turn around annoyed until you realized who it might be. “Eren?” You asked, the masked figure nodded.
“Finally! I’ve been looking everywhere for you” you wiped the sweat beads off your forehead “I’m ready to go babe I can’t do this anymore.”
He nodded and you took his hand walking down the stairs. Eren was unusually quiet as you both walked down, but you just chopped it up to him being too drunk to form a sentence.
“You can take your mask off silly we’re leaving” you said letting his hand go.
You made it outside and remembered you left your jackets upstairs. “Damn it I’ll right back I left our coats.” You turned to leave but he forcefully pulled you back by your forearm, you winced in pain turning around confused “I said I’ll be back, chill” you huffed snatching your arm back rubbing the spot where he roughly grabbed you. Without thinking much of it you left him on the porch of the frat house as you ran back in.
You successfully found the jackets without running into anyone fucking in the rooms and made your way back downstairs. To say you were tired was an understatement.
“Hey baby where you going?!” You heard someone call for you over the music. You rolled your eyes thinking it was a cat caller and kept walking.
“Y/n where are you going?” They called again and rushed in front of you stopping you from walking, it was Eren.
“Huh?” You said genuinely confused “I told you I was ready to go why are you back inside?” You asked puzzled and he stared back mirroring your confusion.
“No you didn’t I was in the game room with Jean and Connie playing beer pong. Where were you?” Now you were really confused and slightly scared.
“No I found you upstairs and left you on the porch while I came back for our coats stop playing around” you explained with your voice stern but trembling a bit.
“I’m being serious I was in the game room the whole time baby.” Your stomach dropped and your throat became dry.
“oh- ok well can we go?” He nodded taking the coats from you and grabbing your hand. He could tell you were becoming overwhelmed with the big crowd and the loud music, and right now could only take so much.
When you walked outside you made it your mission to look around for the one you dragged out here but ended seeing no one but students partying on the lawn. You felt overwhelming nauseous and you were just ready to be home where you would be safe.
——————————
The next morning you felt much better, but still couldn’t get that stranger out of your head. Who were they? And why did they go along with you? Could it have been the Campus Creeper?
You shook your thoughts away getting to head to the kitchen knowing you’d find Eren there.
“Mornin’ baby I made you breakfast and coffee” Eren smiled sliding the plate towards you along with your cup. “Thank you handsome” you returned a smile and kissed him on the cheek.
“Ayo babe did you hear about what happened last night? That Campus Creeper got someone else” he shook his head in disappointment while pouring syrup on his waffles “good thing we left when we did.”
You looked at him terrified “who?”
He just shrugged “not sure but some girls found her body behind the house, it was a complete blood bath” he pulled out his phone showing you the ID picture of the victim. You let out a horrific gasp it was the girl you were talking to in the kitchen.
“Did you know her?” He asked concerned.
“N-no I just I met her last night at the party, we were talking and I..I told her to stay safe” you poked your breakfast with a fork feeling that nauseous feeling returning.
“Damn poor thing” he sighed “I’m gonna start going everywhere with you, you understand? It’s not safe for you to be alone” You nodded sadly thinking that could’ve been you.
A/n: I was gonna do a plot twist and make Eren the murderer but I didn’t know how I would fit that in and it seemed like too much work 💀
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Tears of Rain: Bradley Bradshaw, domestic dialogue 3 please! thank you for your writing ❤️
he’d been in the kitchen for the last couple minutes, gathering your movie candy and popping the popcorn and what not. and you were going to wait for him, truly, but you were already getting a little sleepy and it wasn’t like you both hadn’t seen dirty dancing before and-
was bradley singing?
“i’ll make you happy, baby, just wait and see,” he sings into the broom handle he’s practically slow dancing with in the doorway that leads from your kitchen into the living room.
“no,” you gasp.
“for ever kiss you give me, i’ll give you three,” he continues.
“stop singing into the broom and hurry so we can watch this movie!” you manage to breathe out between your giggles.
“yes ma’am,” he says, dropping the broom where he stood and practically dive bombing you where you lay on the couch.
“you forgot the candy, mister,” you say, lungs still fragile from your laughing.
“i’ll get it in a minute, sweetheart. ‘m comfy.”
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Oooh, you’re doing prompts!!!!!!!! I’m feeling very drawn towards 9 for Phrack since I know you’re okay with modern AUs and I would love to see your take on this prompt, or maybe 10 as an alternative! Thank you! 💕
Of course! And thank you for indulging my love of Modern AUs. ❤️
Also, I'm always open to prompts, I just don't always have these lovely lists. It's kind of the only way I get anything written these days. 😂
Anyway enjoy!
#9: Taking pictures when the other’s not watching
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It starts with Phryne.
(Doesn't it always?)
She’s somehow spirited her way into the middle of his most recent crime scene, a lounge act where a magician’s assistant has found herself suddenly and unfortunately in an unplanned double act with herself.
She’d feel bad about sailing past the new crime scene photographer (a fresh-faced boy named Matty who reminds her so much of Hugh when they first met that she’s rather tempted to get a new assistant just to see if history repeats itself) except he has the utter temerity to call her ‘ma’am’ as he tries to stop her.
(She tries not to take too much joy in the way he flinches at her predatory smile after he does.)
When she tries to take a photo of the murder weapon, however, she is stopped by much sterner stuff.
(Even if he is not nearly so stern as when they first met.)
“No personal photos at the crime scene, Miss Fisher. I’m not sure why I have to remind you every time. It’s why we have an authorised photographer.”
“They’re not personal, Jack, it’s not as though I’m taking them of you.”
“All the same, phone away please.”
Phryne huffs and makes a big show of dropping her phone into her purse and waving her now empty hands at him in the snippiest manner possible.
“Happy?” she asks.
“Ecstatic,” he replies, so dry it should be served in stemware.
Her smile is even more predatory at that, but Jack never flinches.
Later, he can’t decide if he’s more surprised or impressed to find the photos on her phone all the same.
“How…?”
“It’s all in the hands, Jack.” She waves them at him again, less snippy, more salacious. “Magic is all about misdirection. Look at where I’m not and not where I am, and all that.”
He raises an eyebrow, but does not otherwise comment.
“Prestidigitation,” she whispers cheekily, and he rolls his eyes.
“Look,” she adds, in that overly cheerful tone that always means trouble for him. “I even got a good one of you. I suppose I did take a personal photo after all.”
She shows him. It’s in profile, and she thinks he looks especially handsome.
He thinks he looks especially unauthorised.
“A lucky shot,” he mutters and he is an idiot for not realising before he does so that it will be like waving a darkroom red light in front of a bull.
And the worst part, the absolute most galling part, is he can’t figure out how she keeps doing it.
There are shots of him at every crime scene after. Some close up, some far away. Sometimes he’s doing something interesting. One time he was trying to remember his shopping list. It doesn’t matter, they all go in her book.
Oh she’s keeping a book now, didn’t she mention?
A photo album of his (her?) greatest hits. He grumps about it a few times, until she reveals, softly and in that unguarded manner she has right before she falls asleep, that she looks through it when he’s out of town and she’s missing him.
He doesn’t grump about it after that.
He does, however, start to try his own hand at clandestine photography.
Phryne thinks it’s adorable.
(But not adorable enough to let him succeed.)
She sees him, every time, and at the very last second hides behind a post or a constable or, one time, Jack himself. He’s not quite sure how she accomplished that one. It becomes a dance of sorts, between them, a waltz where they both know the steps but he is moving in 3/4 time and she is in duple metre.
She’s almost hoping he makes it, one of these days. She likes it when he surprises her, but she likes vexing him too much to make it easy.
It goes on for a while, but that’s ok, Phryne loves dancing.
She’s less keen about accompanying her aunt to Brisbane.
“Two weeks,” she laments, throwing her clothes in a suitcase. “And board meetings every single day.” She sighs. “Goodbye, fun, I’ll miss you.”
“And I’ll miss you,” he remarks, not looking up from the chair where he’s reading.
She smiles, sweetly at first, and then coyly.
“Too bad you never got any shots of me, Jack. You could look at the photos when you get lonely.”
“Oh,” he remarks casually, “I’ve got a whole book of them.” At her stunned expression, he adds, “didn’t I mention?”
Phryne abandons the packing.
“Show me,” she demands.
Graciously he pulls a photo album from his briefcase.
(If she wasn’t so shocked she’d have spared a moment to snort that it’s embossed with the words Our Precious Memories on the cover.)
She’s not sure it’s so precious.
It’s full of her.
Specifically, photos of her at crime scenes going back weeks, months. How…
“Prestidigitation,” he whispers as his face breaks into a grin.
She looks at the photos again. Something is niggling, something not quite —
“You’re in some of these!” she shouts, and he shrugs, utterly unashamed.
“Magic, or so I’ve heard, is all about misdirection. Look at where I’m not and not where I was.”
“But I can see where you are,” she insists, jabbing an elegant finger at one of the photos.
“True. But where I was, about a year ago, was writing young Matty’s letter of recommendation.”
The penny drops along with her jaw, which hangs open as she takes this information in. Just a little open, of course. A very ladylike amount, she would later insist. She supposes Matty isn’t quite so much like Hugh afterall.
She is… impressed. She can admit it. Or she would if she wasn’t about to be very, very busy.
“Abracadabra,” he murmurs in her ear right before she makes all their clothes disappear.
Later, much later, she looks through the book again, smiling at all their precious memories.
“It’s going to be so much harder now,” she warns him. “Now that you’ve tipped your hand. Much, much harder.”
“Phryne,” he says, with so much warmth and playfulness in his voice she’d swoon if she was standing. “Never ever assume I only have one card up my sleeve.”
She just shrugs, noncommittally, the corner of her mouth quirking in time with her shoulder. It’s a bit soon, she knows, but possible. And she does so love it when he surprises her.
“Who said I was talking about the photographs?” she asks, too innocently to be believed.
It takes a moment for him to cotton on, but when he does — a soft ‘ah’ escaping his lips before they find hers again — it’s pure magic. Not surprising, but she loves that too.
(Prestidigitation indeed.)
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OTP Moments Prompts ❤️
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