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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

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Soulmate September

Series Summary- a collection of one shots exploring different ships and au concepts. The list I created and am following can be found here.

Day Three: A Storm of Stars

Summary: Soul tattoos don’t fill in until the other person knows without a doubt that their partner is the one, when everything they are become so ingrained in each other’s lives that their souls become entwined. For Virgil and Logan, this doesn’t happen until well after they’ve been married. When the moments do arrive however, they both know they could never be happier.

Warnings: none, If there are any please let me know!

Ships: Analogical (Virgil x Logan)

Prompt: Tattoo that becomes colorful once you meet soulmate

WC: 2645

AO3

Logan’s eyes snapped open as a loud crack of thunder shook the house, rain pelting against the roof and making the tiles creak. His popping joints added to the symphony as he stretched his way into a sitting position. Reaching over to the bedside drawer he fumbled a bit before finding the small remote and clicking on the web of fairy lights strung in the far corner, immediately bathing the room in a pleasant blue glow. He flipped his pillow over to the cool side and took a second to fluff the other pillow a bit, moving it over to be closer to his and smoothing the bedsheets.

The motions were automatic after so many years of practice, going back to he and Virgil’s first sleepover when they were still guaranteed a juicebox and cookies after school. It had stormed then too, Logan waking up to find his bed crowded with a shaking Virgil and his trusty stuffed tiger, who though was quite courageous had realized she was no match for a storm and had convinced her charge to seek shelter with Logan instead. Smiling softly at the memory Logan settled down to wait. He knew as his husband had grown older he wasn’t afraid of storms anymore so much as his anxiety ran with endless possibilities of what they could do to them or the house- which Logan was often inclined to agree with but played his role of devil’s advocate for the sake of Virgil’s well-being.

Right as he was beginning to wonder if he should leave to go and collect Virgil, the floorboards in front of his door squeaked in protest. A moment later a figure bulky with sweatpants and a hoodie slouched into the room, quickly shutting the door behind him and practically diving into the bed and under the blankets. The bed springs creaked along with the roof tiles as they both fidgeted and fussed trying to get comfortable, Logan biting back a small laugh as Virgil nosed his way underneath his chin. His soft hair tickled Logan’s lips as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head and wrapped his arms around him. Finally they were still, Virgil’s breathing slowly matching his own as he made sure to take deep calming breaths.

The rain was already quieting, the storm moving on and leaving the two night owls to their bubble of peaceful warmth. Logan readjusted slightly as Virgil snuggled in further, hoodie sleeves riding up as he snaked his arms around his waist in an attempt to pull them closer. Logan did laugh at this, planting another kiss firmly on the other’s forehead.

“I think if you squeezed any tighter we’d fuse, stormcloud. How are we supposed to compose an email when our absence excuse would be cuddling too hard?”

“No such thing,’” Virgil mumbled. “I’ll cuddle you as hard as I want and they’re just gonna haftadealwibit.”

The last half of the sentence trailed off into near indecipherable gibberish but Logan understood well enough. “You are exceptionally adorable when you’re tired. As much as I hate that storms cause you anxiety, I'm glad that nothing else has changed.”

He grinned as the side of his neck where Virgil’s face was pressed against warmed and quietly congratulated himself through the disappointment that he couldn’t currently see Virgil’s crimson face. ‘Still got it’ he thought to himself as he wiggled a bit to try and find a comfortable spot where Virgil’s rather bony arms weren’t poking into his ribs, failing miserably until he managed a sigh. “I’m sorry stormcloud, I’m getting a bit of a cramp. Why don’t you lay on top of me instead; that’s comfortable for you as well isn’t it?”

Humming in confirmation, Virgil leaned back and let Logan flip onto his back. A moment later he let out a small groan of surprise as Virgil flopped solidly onto him, burrowing into his chest and holding Logan tight by his sides. Smiling, he brought the blankets up over them both and carefully tucked them in, bringing his arms out and resting them on Virgil’s shoulders to make sure it didn’t slide off.

“Thank you for always doing this.” Logan scrunched his brow at the frustrated tone in Virgil’s voice. “And don’t you dare say ‘why wouldn’t I’ because you always ask and I always say it’s because I’m too old to be afraid of storms and then you logic your way around me because I’m too tired to argue. This is just something I always thought I’d grow out of.”

“Sometimes we grow out of fears, sometimes not. The ones that linger aren’t something you can help or should blame yourself for.” Getting no response other than a frustrated huff, Logan continued, beginning to hum and rub soothing circles on his back. “Whether the fear is rational or not- and whether or not the threat is real- I will always be here to protect and support you however you need. Seeing as I’m not exactly in the best shape for fighting crime or fending off rabid dogs, comforting you through a storm is something that I love that I’m able to do. And I will continue to love doing it because I love you and would rather you be here with me seeking comfort than by yourself too stubborn to ask for help.”

“Logan?”

“Yes, Virgil?”

“You’re making it really hard to be edgy and self-deprecating right now.”

“Heaven forbid.”

Virgil snorted, knocking the top of his head gently into Logan’s chin until Logan sighed in mock exasperation, craning his neck to kiss him softly on the forehead so he’d settle back down. As he laid his head back down onto his chest a warm, tingling sensation spread from underneath Virgil’s cheek and covered his collar bone and part of his shoulder. Gasping he nudged the other up, poking more insistantly when the stubborn emo refused to disentangle himself. Ignoring Virgil’s confused look as he made to pull off his shirt he practically whipped it across the room and placed a hand to his soul mark, eyes shining as he took in the sight.

His mark had always looked so odd to him, big blobs of shapes over his right shoulder and collar bone with jagged black scars streaking from them and down his chest. He could never even begin to picture what it could be, though a friend suggested once that it might be a warped forest of some sort, doubtful as his tone had been. Instead, his warm fingers traced over jagged streaks of lightning, such a bright purple they nearly glowed in the dark. The blobs above them had filled in with every shade of gray he had ever seen, broken occasionally by shadows of purple and blue where the lightning was. It was unexpectedly beautiful, his vision blurring with tears as he realized what this meant.

“I always knew.” He looked up as Virgil spoke in a hushed whisper. “I always- but you just felt so safe and you never...you always make me feel better about it and so safe and I guess-”

Logan opened his arms and Virgil gratefully dove back into them, catching his cheek with a kiss on the way down. They resettled quickly, the rain nothing more than a gentle patter against the roof letting them rest easy. Cracking an eye open, Logan strained to look down as Virgil laughed and held him tighter.

“Of all the things that keep me up at night, I’m so glad I was right about this.”

Logan smiled and hugged him closer in turn. “I agree.”

----- -----

Virgil sat up slowly, blanket falling from his shoulders and pooling around his waist as he struggled to cross his legs in the tangle. After a minute of failing miserably he huffed and flopped back, kicking both legs up as far as they would go while catching the blanket on the bottom of his feet and then kicking forward violently to dislodge them. Unfortunately the trick failed, landing more fabric between his legs and scrunching his pants uncomfortably in the process. Scissoring his legs just twisted everything around more and by the time he was halfway through attempting bicycles the situation was hopeless enough he considered just going back to sleep and dealing with it when he woke up. He had closed his eyes to do just that when he heard a muffled snort from the doorway, picking his head up to peer at Logan through squinted eyelids.

“Would you like some assistance?” Logan asked while making a half-hearted attempt to school his features.

Huffing, Virgil flopped his head back onto the pillows. “Clearly I have everything under control.”

“Falsehood. Your wiggling was very impressive but the blankets quite obviously won in the end. Was falling back to sleep after a ten hour nap and a failed battle the plan from the start?”

“No one likes a smartass Lo.”

“And yet your love for me persists.” Smiling lightly, Logan made his way to the side of the bed and climbed on, swinging his legs up and over Virgil’s stomach and plopped down gently with his hands splayed over his chest. Grunting out pseudo complaints Virgil reached up and took both of the hands in his own, giving each a kiss in turn before settling them back just below his collarbones. The sight of Logan blushing- bright enough to be visible even in the dim room- was one he would never grow tired of.

“Illogical as it may be.” He agreed. “Is that why you love your darling husband? I’m your most difficult logic puzzle that’s guaranteed to last a lifetime?”

Logan rolled his eyes. “No, that’s absurd. I love my husband because a pain in the ass though he may be- he’s a constant I find myself unable to live without.”

Feeling his own face heating up Virgil longed for his hoodie to hide in, especially once Logan’s expression turned smug from rendering him speechless. “Logan, it’s much too early for you to be this smooth.”

“Virgil, my love, it’s seven in the evening.”

Virgil blinked. “Wow. you weren’t kidding when you said ten hour nap.”

“I never kid. It’s important to be one hundo percent, one hundo percent of the time.”

“Who gave you that one?”

“Patton.”

“Yeah, maybe don’t trust the dad-friend for flashcards, starlight.’

Flushing slightly, Logan disentangled their fingers and rolled off the bed. “Duly noted. Now please get up, we have plans.”

“We do- ah!” Virgil found himself face down in his pillow, having flipped around with Logan’s rather aggressive flourish of snapping the blankets out from around his legs. Remembering that they had, in fact, had plans for the night, Virgil rolled out of bed as quickly as he could with apologies already hot on his tongue. “Logan I’m so sorry I thought that was tomorrow and I had stayed up late for stupid reasons and I hope we aren’t running late do I have time to change-”

“Virgil, breathe.” Logan cupped a hand to his cheek and gently ran a thumb under his eye. “I assure you we have plenty of time and I’m very glad you got the sleep you did. I would have liked you up earlier only to see your lovely face and to make sure your sleep schedule wasn’t ruined. But if you slept that long you must have needed it, and I certainly am not going to fault you for that.”

Closing his eyes, Virgil took a breath and held it for a second before breathing out slowly. Logan’s hand left his cheek and he caught himself leaning forward to chase the warmth, his resulting blush filling that void for the time being.

“Do what you need and then come in the kitchen; I made fried noodles.”

More awake now than ever Virgil hurried to the bathroom. Logan’s cooking was the best he had ever had and he’d be damned if he was late for noodles.

-----

A cool breeze rustled through the thick grass and flipped over the corner of the blanket Logan and Virgil had set up an hour before. Sputtering, Virgil flipped it back from his face, spitting bits of dandelion fluff out of his mouth in the process while pointedly ignoring Logan’s snicker. He pushed his hoodie closer to the corner to prevent further mishap and snuggled closer to his husband for warmth, head resting comfortably on one arm with his other wrapped around Logan’s shoulders.

Logan lay on his side with his head on his shoulder, the bottom of his cheek pressed into the still black soulmark that traced a shapeless blob from the top of his elbow to the nape of his neck. Soulmarks filled in based on the other soulmates feelings- when they truly felt like they had found the one. Of course that was a romantic conspiracy for the most part and to Virgil it seemed to go against the entire idea of fate. If you could choose your own, then what was the point of the marks?

Choosing not to think about it for the time being, he continued staring up at the sky. The night was clear and this far out not much light pollution tainted their view of everything the night had to offer. Stars glittered for miles with barely there colorful space dust in between if you squinted. Logan had told him what it actually was once- something about it being high temperature nebula gas absorbing starlight- Logan had explained it much better in the past.

Logan always explained everything better.

“You’re quiet tonight.” Logan remarked.

“I’m sorry- just thinking.”

“Mm, don’t be sorry.”

They laid in silence for a few more minutes before Virgil decided to speak up. “They always make me feel really small- stars I mean- and I know I am small compared to everything but all that just leads to...existential dread I guess. Seeing everything laid out, it’s beautiful, but it’s also a bit daunting.”

“Virgil, if you’re uncomfortable-”

“Lemme finish first before you do the sweet thing you do where you overanalyze everything for the sake of everyone else’s comfort.” Seeing Logan smile and roll his eyes he continued. “I always feel small looking at them, but it never matters because you make me feel big. Like I could take on the entire world even when the anxiety’s being a bitch.”

He felt Logan smile against his arm...and then it started to tingle. Tiny pinpricks raced up and down his arms from his shoulder to his neck and he quickly disentangled himself and started blindly slapping at his mark to get whatever bugs off that had decided to ruin the moment. Noticing Logan had his mouth covered with his eyes wide in shock staring at his arm he quickly looked down and gasped with his own.

His unsightly black blob of a soulmark, which he had long ago stopped trying to guess at the shape of, was now a glittering galaxy. Striking blue and dark purple swirled in intricate patterns behind stars that shined so brightly on his skin he would swear they had been plucked from the night sky and flicked onto him. The tingling finally stopped, the whole field seeming to hold its breath along with the both of them before Logan finally broke the silence with a hoarse whisper.

“In an entire universe I found you.” Snapping his head up, Virgil saw tears gathering in his husband’s eyes. “I was sure I already knew but- I’m so happy I found you.”

Laughing wetly Virgil dove forward, knocking them both over and half in the grass but neither could bring themselves to care. Under the stars, with Virgil himself wrapped in a galaxy, he had never been so happy to have an impossibly small space in Logan’s arms to call his own.

If you like this, please consider reblogging. Sharing a creators work helps more people see it.

#false writes #sander sides #soulmate september #ts soulmate september #virgil sanders #logan sanders #analogical #my witing

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vicecityhq · 3 years

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██████████████]99% loading…suspect into the apd database…

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: glasses, academia, coffee shops . with a slight resemblance to JEON JUNGKOOK of/the BTS.

CLICK BELOW TO VIEW ENTIRE FILE.

FULL FILE:

last name, first name: lee, david alias: electro realm of birth(if earth, nationality): earth age: 23 date of birth: september 1, 1997 gender: cis-gender male preferred pronouns: he/him, they/them species: cyborg level 1, civilian sexual orientation: questioning

VISUAL FILE:

skin color: light tanned eye color: dark brown, blue tint when using eye enhancemets scars: none reported piercings: both ears tattoos: a simple black star on left wrist hair color: black, dyed a variety of colors at times abnormalities: none reported horns/ wings/ etc: none transformed form: none

PERSONAL FILE:

powers & abilities: enhanced vision, lens screen, vital monitor and data collection, temperature scanning, night vision, light adjustment vision, app synchronization (photo, video recording, downloading) traits: determined, aloof

BACKGROUND CHECK:

date of birth: september 1, 1997

date of death: -

crime record: a clean record

BACKGROUND/BIOGRAPHY:

david was the 2nd born in his family, to a career solider and a

struggling

opera singer. his sister was 1st and her words upon seeing him as a baby was “i’m cuter.”at times he felt neglected given that his sister was getting more attention that him, she was the golden child while he was …david, quiet most of the time but had moments of intense energy. his parents enrolled him a variety of sports which kept him in check. he excelled in martial arts (taekwondo and kumdo) and basketball which was used as leverage to keep in ballet. that was something his mother wanted for both of her children, though he never got a reason why. near the end of elementary school his parent’s divorced and his mother remarried a “rich man”. though he was kind he was very distant to him. his sister however took a liling to increases social status she had.

it was during middle school did david and his sister start to grow apart. sneaking out, skipping class, among other things became his sister’s focus. he had an idea of some things but didn’t speak on them since it would lead to an argument. “boring and straight laced” was what she called him, he and to edge to him. the young boy’s concern was to make in on a national team, it didn’t matter the sport. david used his studies as a shield against the chaos around him, not just at home and school, but the city in general. sometimes it felt like a comic with how crime was almost normalized be it in the background or directly involving you. he kept his circle small and hid most information about himself, his image had to be pure for the scouts and his future career.

given the reputation of his father, david knew military enlistment was the next step college or not. now being in the army was a double edge sword. there wasn’t this pressure to perform like say the marines but he was held to a higher standard. sometimes he was afforded privildges like extra time but also more severe punishments for making the same mistake as others. just going for 2 years wasn’t enough, he was expected to stay for 3. not for his own goals or wants but that of his father. it was during this time did david see that he had lived a rather comfortable life compared to others in his unit, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any issues. the constant question on his mind was “where do i belong?”. well the military wasn’t the answer, his discharge date couldn’t come soon enough and when it came, he was already in another system. college.

a bit older and wiser, david could fully focus on his studies (again) something he was happy about and rebuild some parts of his past that he couldn’t while serving. while he is aware his parents expect to major in something like medicine or law, he has no interest in either. his duties to his family and country are complete. it’s for david to live for himself. during his 1st year of college his sister got married much to the joy of his parents. his brother-in-law was “well put together” despite being a little off in his manners. it wasn’t until a few months later did his sister reveal she married a vampire along with hints of her planning to become one. their step-dad was willing to overlook all of his since it met more access to money and power however their mom had reservations. knowing her relationship was rocky with her daughter, she asked david to look after her.

this was 1 of the few times in his life he went against his parents wishes. david had a real chance to be a top athlete and having a gang affiliation wouldn’t help. even if he did have access to money and in some ways protection it was too big of a risk. his sister made her choice to get and stay involved, if she did need help he would but only from her directly. not going through with it put distance between the young man and his mom. maybe it was pressure of college, stress, or still trying to answer the question but david had a chance to “be better” and secretly got an enhancement on his eyes. this afforded him the ability to study in any lighting and pick up on details he would other wise miss. his grade improved greatly but the bigger reward was that his physical fitness was fine tuned to the point he could stay at his peak. with his enhancement he could monitor his calorie intake and vitals, adjust his work out plan so his whole body performing at it’s maximum. this offered him some stability as he had something to thrive for and could take his mind off of the less appealing parts of his life.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (PARA SAMPLE): “JUST RUN US THROUGH WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT”. - OFFICER

he was nervous looking at the “window” of the home unsure if there was others on the other side. running his hand through his hair was a ploy to cover his eye and scan for temperature, a rather unused feature of his eyes. he sighed out of relief not “seeing” anyone though he knew to not let his guard down. again the officer repeated their statement. this time he looked at them directly hands under the table quietly toying with the zipper of his jacket, “i was going home from the library but stopped at the store for a drink.” that was true, it was all true. though now he wished he just went straight home. “but you didn’t see the fight?” the officer raised a brow not totally convinced. “no, i wasn’t focused on that. i heard people yelling but didn’t look that’s how you get jumped. it wasn’t my business so i kept going,” he answered. “uh…david, you’re in school right? what do you want to be?” this sad attempt to relate to him. “that’s really irrelevant to why i’m here, shouldn’t you be talking to them or the store owner? i don’t know why i’m here, when i didn’t do anything.” his words had a hint of annoyance, he wasn’t a child. “you are a witness, maybe not a good one but still one regardless. even if your details are…missing. it’s enough with common sense to help confirm the series of events.” the officer replied, “you may go.” he was didn’t need to be told twice with his bag already on his shoulder and made his way out of the station.

#vcaccepted #vccivilian #krp #new krpg #oc krp #jeon jungkook #bts face claim #jungkook fc #supernatural rp #gang rp

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alloftheimaginesblog · 4 years

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Summer Mornings (Charlie Weasley NSFW smut)

Character: Charlie Weasley x Plus Size!Female!Reader

Plot: You’re a friend of Fred and George and spend summers with the Weasleys’. One summer, you and Charlie grow close and something blooms on those summer mornings.

Warnings: Sex, Rating Mature, smut, swearing

Note: may make a part 2, depending on whether people want that or not!

You smiled as you picked up the envelope, knowing that messy handwriting that had your name scrawled on the front of it. Eagerly, you ripped it open, desperate to drink in the words of the letter. It was from Charlie, Charlie Weasley. Yes, you would admit that when you first received a letter from him last September it was a little odd, especially considering you were a friend of Fred and George’s and not necessarily Charlie’s. Now, though, you were always awaiting his next letter, hungry for the stories he would tell and the pictures he’d paint.

Something had changed last summer. Something that shifted in the dynamic of yours and Charlie’s relationship. You’d known Charlie for years since you were a friend of Fred and George. You were a year older than the twins and every summer they invited you to the Burrow to spend the holiday with them and their family. You loved the Weasley family, all of them were lovely, even Percy - once Percy had a shot of firewhiskey in him he became much friendlier. So, yes, you’d known Charlie for years but it wasn’t until one summer that everything changed. You began to notice him more; how charming he was, how happy his laughter was, the one tuft of hair that would never go down and would instead point in any direction it fancied. His good looks you were already aware of but him in general, you’d always sort of looked past until one summer.

Things changed when he asked you to go for a walk early one morning with him. You accepted. The conversation was mainly small talk, chatting about the weather, the next few weeks of summer, what you were planning to do career wise until you started to ask him about his job. He had given you a general answer when you grabbed his arm and practically begged him to tell you stories of it.

“It’s a world entirely different to the one I’m used to, Charlie,” you said to him as you pulled him to sit on the warm grass under a large tree with you, “Just one story.”

He had smiled at you, some unknown expression across his face, “Okay... What would you like to know?”

You’d spent hours out there with him that day. One story turned into ten and you were captivated by his adventures. He didn’t do all of the talking though, he asked about you, what you enjoyed doing, what your passions were and what you wanted to do next. He encouraged you towards your goals, encouraged you to believe that you could do anything that you set your mind to. It was only when you heard Mrs Weasley screeching loudly that ‘LUNCH IS READY!’ that you both realised the time.

“It’s lunch time already?” You asked, amazed.

Charlie smiled fondly at you, “Time flies, eh?”

He helped you up, holding out his hand for you to take to help yourself up with. As he let go of your hand, you realised you missed the warmth of it. You walked in silence for a couple of minutes, both content, when he stopped you, “That was... Talking to you was... It was lovely.” He was unsure of the words to say, he didn’t want to overstep a line but something changed in him that day. He began to really see you, you weren’t just his brothers friend, you were his friend now too.

Every morning, the routine became the same; you and Charlie would go for a walk, sit under the same tree, looking out the rolling hills, and talk for hours. You would make a small picnic for the two of you complete with tea, sandwiches and a biscuit. Mrs Weasley gave you a smile every morning as you prepared it, it always seemed like a sneaky smile but you know now that it was more of a knowing smile. You would sit with Charlie in the sun and even if it was raining Charlie would cast a protection bubble around the two of you so that you could still enjoy the privacy outdoors together.

Charlie fast became one of your closest friends, he had a way of just making you feel so comfortable and safe when talking to him. You could tell him anything and he wouldn’t judge you or make you feel silly. He was one of your closest friends but... that wasn’t all. You hadn’t realised until Ginny teased you one afternoon saying, “Don’t tell me you’re falling in love with my brother.” You’d laughed it off but you began to realise what you truly felt for the older Weasley boy.

Whatever you felt for him though, nothing could happen. Charlie was leaving tomorrow early morning... Summer was over and he was leaving soon. It hurt you, truly and deeply. He would be going back to Romania. You had realised how you felt for him too late.

Charlie had suggested that you go for an evening walk instead since he would be leaving before you’d have the chance to go for your usual morning walk. Charlie prepared the picnic basket this time. Every time you tried to walk into the kitchen, Molly would usher you out and continue talking in hushed whispers with Charlie... something was going on.

You walked in silence with Charlie to your spot under the tree when Charlie stopped you from sitting. He pulled a blanket out of the basket and with a smile, he laid it out for you, “I thought since this is the last time we do this until next summer, I’d make it special.”

You frowned at him, “Why do I feel like you’re plotting something?”

Charlie grinned at you, “You see right through me.”

You sat on the blanket and Charlie started pulling out dinner for tonight. Turns out he’d gotten your favourite food from the cafe in town, thank god for ever warm charms that keep food warm, “Charlie, wow,” you breathed out, it touched you that he’d went to the effort of getting your favourite things. But that wasn’t all, he pulled out all types of desserts that he knew you loved and to top it all off, he flicked his wand and little balls of lights danced in the air.

“It’s...” You looked at him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, Charlie, it’s beautiful.”

His smile was wide but his eyes were sad, “I wanted our last night to be special... but let’s not dwell on that just now, tuck in.”

It will remain one of your memories that night with Charlie. Dinner was lovely and conversation flowed but afterwards, the atmosphere changed and the relationship shifted. You both took a lead of faith.

You and Charlie had been laying on the blanket, stargazing, when he rolled onto his side to look at you, “What?” You asked with a nervous laugh, “You make me nervous when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that,” you rolled your eyes, “Stop it,” you swatted at him with your hand but he caught your wrist easily.

“No.” It took you by surprise, the change in his tone and expression. He wasn’t laughing or joking around. He was serious, “These last few weeks with you have been some of the best. I’ve loved getting to know you, getting to talk with you is the highlight of my day and I hope you know how much I’ll miss that... how much I’ll miss you.” There was a secret confession in his words that you only figured out when you looked into his eyes. Your breathing hitched in your throat slightly as he began to lean forwards, “Can I... Can I kiss you?”

You nodded as your eyes fluttered shut and he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You’d imagined this moment for weeks, you’d imagined kissing him and feeling his skin against yours... the real thing was much better than imagination. But soon the soft, gentle kiss began to get hungrier and hungrier until your hands were tangled in his hair and his hands were on your hips.

He pulled away, panting, pressing his forehead against yours, “Is this... Do you want...” Me.

You nodded quickly, “I want you, I want this.”

Charlie kissed you again, hard and fast. He rolled over you as your hands tugged at his shirt. He broke the kiss to sit up and pull his shirt off. You bit your lip as you looked at him; muscled body littered with silver scars and a dragon tattoo that curled over his shoulder, sleeping soundly. Your eyes trailed up to his face, he smirked at you before you sat up and allowed him to pull your t-shirt off exposing your flesh to him. You were nervous of him seeing all of you, seeing every angle of you, every lump and roll and but the way he looked at you made those worries fade. He looked at you with such adoration in his eyes, in fact, he had always looked at you like that but you were only just realising.

He puffed out a breath of ‘fuck’. He drank you in, appreciating every curve, every freckle, every blemish on your body, “You’re perfect.” Charlie kissed you again, leaning you back to lie down before his lips began to trail to your neck, kissing and sucking, making sure he left his mark on your soft skin. This was the last time you’d see him in almost a year, you had to make sure you savoured every moment, every breath.

As Charlie’s easily unhooked your bra and tossed it aside in a fluid motion, you could feel butterflies in your stomach as he exposed your bare flesh to him. All he had to do was look at you and feel your soft skin and his excitement grew. His tongue circled your nipple as he pinched the other gently. You gasped under him, arching your back as pleasure filled you. Charlie had a way of making you feel like no other. He was attentive and paid special attention to your body, testing the waters, figuring out what you liked. He smirked against your breast as you moaned softly. Your moans drove him wild, oh how desperately he needed you in this moment.

“P-Please,” you whimpered, “I-I need you.” You could feel how wet you were already without so much as touching yourself, you could feel your excitement pooling between your legs just waiting for him.

Charlie grinned, as he stood as kicked his jeans off revealing himself to you, practically making you beg for him. He knelt in front of you, slowly pulling your jeans off. He was torturing you, enjoying seeing you so needy and desperate for him. Of course he was desperate to have you, to feel you but he wanted to savour these touches. His hands ran over your legs, groaning as he touched you, “You drive me crazy,” he whispered as he stared hungrily at you, “I need you.”

“Have me,” you whispered, breathing getting caught in your throat every time he touched you, “I’m all yours.”

“I want to taste you first, kiss you all over.” He kissed over your stomach, loving the feeling of your soft curves under his lips and fingertips. Instinctively, you’d tried to hide your stomach, scared he might not find your stomach rolls or the fat on your belly attractive but Charlie moved your hands out of the way, intertwining your fingers, “Perfection,” he whispered, kissing your stomach once more before going lower and pressing soft kisses to your thighs.

You’d never had anyone touch you the way he did, you’d never had anyone spend so much time wanting to just touch you and feel you... You’d never had anyone want to please you as much as Charlie did. It made your stomach flip but not from nerves, it was something else. It was a level of intimacy that you’d never experienced and you knew that it wouldn’t just be a one time thing. No, it was too intimate for a one night stand. Charlie’s actions hadn’t been with the intention of a one night stand, no, he wanted this... he wanted you. The thought excited you. It felt nice to have someone want you; it felt nice to have Charlie want you. Charlie was a handsome man, he got a lot of attention. He was muscled and chiselled to perfection. He was that perfect mixture of rugged and rough around the edges. But he wasn’t rough, in fact, he was one of the kindest, most respectful people you’d met. No wonder he got attention.

You were honestly a little shocked that he would want you like this. You weren’t used to attention like this, from people like Charlie. You didn’t deem yourself worthy of someone’s attention or love like this; you didn’t deem yourself worthy of Charlie’s attention or love. You’d always hidden away, insecure of your looks and your body. You weren’t stick thin, you had lumps and bumps and rolls of stomach fat and wobbly thighs and a jiggly tummy. It made you nervous for him to see you in your entirety but Charlie didn’t care. He loved the way you looked. He loved the softness of your skin, the warmth of your thighs; he loved it.

Your eyes snapped open as your hips involuntarily jerked against his face as his tongue flicked against your clit. You let out a loud moan as your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut. Charlie knew exactly how to feel good, he was a fast learner. He quickly found out how sensitive you were and relished the feeling of making you squirm and grind against his tongue. Your hands clutched his as you moaned, “I need you,” you panted, “Please.”

But he wasn’t finished. He wanted to make you cum, wanted to hear those sweet noises tumble out of your mouth as you climaxed. Charlie got off on pleasuring you, making you feel as good as he could possibly make you feel. He sucked at your clit as your moans grew louder and louder, you were close and he knew it. It only took a few seconds before your thighs were firmly pressing against the side of his head, rocking your hips against his mouth. Your moans grew louder as you came becoming a gasping and mewling mess beneath him.

Your thighs let go of the clamp like grip you had on him, he swirled your clit once more with his tongue making you jerk and gasp before pulling away, “You’re just...” he shook his head as he crawled over you, giving your stomach lazy kisses, “divine.” You stared up at him, flushed and breathless.

He kissed you again as you felt his erect cock against you, you could taste yourself on his lips. Charlie pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours, “Are you sure?” He whispered.

You pulled him closer, “I need you, Charlie.” He whispered the protection charm, ensuring you’d both be protected, before he lined himself up at your vagina and pushed in slowly. He groaned into the nook of your neck as he felt your warmth wrap around his member.

He felt damn good. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his muscular frame. Soft gasps came from your mouth as you rocked against him, finding your rhythm quickly. You felt truly alive in that moment, every nerve ending was alight as he touched you, grabbing at your soft skin. He whispered in your ear how good you felt, how good you looked, how perfect you were. It only made you moan more. Knowing he wanted you, knowing he wanted you like this turned you on immensely.

It was just you and Charlie bathed in the moonlight, embracing each other. No one else mattered, nothing mattered except the two of you.

He thrust into you, filling you to the hilt with absolute pleasure. You loved his moans and reactions of him shuddering under your touch. He was under your spell as much as you were under his. He kissed your skin, moaning against you. All you could think about was Charlie, how his muscular arms felt under your palms, the slight raised bumps of scars that littered his arms, the way he smelled - citrus and pine - and the way he moaned for you. You rocked your hips against his as you threw your head back, “Fuck!”

Your senses and your body were on overload; overwhelmed with so many emotions and feelings. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure that Charlie could give you, he just felt incredible and he knew exactly how to make you feel good. You moaned loudly, unashamed and no longer self conscious about how loud you were being. You couldn’t help it, he just made you feel something that you’d never felt before. Your body tingled, as though magic or fire danced on your skin. Charlie was only more turned on by your moans, “Moan for me, darling,” he purred, watching your face with lust filled eyes, “Cum for me, darling.”

Nails digging into his back, you moaned loudly, “Oh my god, Charlie,” you were panting, barely keeping it together. Charlie grinned before slowly trailing his fingers down to your achingly sensitive clit and began rubbing harsh circles with his thumb. He needed you to feel the best that you possibly could.

Your back arched and he took the opportunity to lean his head to your nipple, biting it gently, “Fuck!” You practically screamed, “I’m going- I’m going to- I’m-”

“Cum for me, darling,” Charlie murmured against your breast, “Cum for me.”

It was mere seconds and then you were unravelling beneath him, gripping his biceps tightly, moaning his name loudly. Your orgasm seemed to last forever, everything heightened and intense. Charlie rode your orgasm out, squeezing his eyes closed as you tightened around him as you fell into a blissful vortex. As you came down from your high, panting and still reeling, you pulled him to meet your lips, rocking against his hips making him groan.

“Cum for me, Charlie,” you whispered against his lips, “Let go for me.” He dropped his head to your neck again and you began to kiss his neck, leaving slight pink marks there as you rocked your hips, “Cum for me...”

Charlie groaned your name into the crook of your neck, a throaty husky groan, and his thrusts became fast and uneven before he gripped your hips tightly and pushed as deep as he could into you, warmth flooding into you with a loud grunt.

He panted into your neck, sweat coating the two of you, as you caught your breath. He stayed inside of you for another minute or two, not quite ready to have it be over. He let out a long breath and a ‘fucking hell’ before slowly pulling out of your warmth and flopping lazily beside you on the blanket.

Your curled into him, not ready to be apart from him, not caring about the sweat that shone on his torso. As he caught his breath, your fingers traced the silvery scars in the moonlight that you could see before trailing to his dragon tattoo, “Good thing the dragon stayed asleep,” you teased watching the dragon’s slow breaths dance on his skin as it slept.

Charlie laughed slightly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close, “That was... incredible.”

You nodded, “I’ve never felt that good before.” He grinned, happy that he could make you feel so good and let’s not lie, proud that he was the best you’d ever had.

Silence fell as you just relaxed into the other’s embrace and then you remembered what was going to happen in just a few hours, “I... I don’t want you to leave.” The thought made you tear up.

Charlie lifted your chin with his thumb, “Let’s enjoy the now, love. We’ve still got hours left to enjoy.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “I... I wanted to tell you something and I don’t know if it’s too soon but I can’t deny the way I feel about you... I...” You were looking into his eyes and you knew what he wanted to say, “I...”

“I know,” you whispered, cupping his cheek, “I do, too.” It was Charlie whose eyes filled with tears this time, “Don’t tell me yet... You can’t give me everything I want tonight, instead... tell me when you come back next summer.” He nodded, smiling slightly before you leaned over him to kiss him, “I can’t believe you wanted me too.”

Charlie frowned, “Love... don’t say it like you don’t deserve love and affection. You’re thoughtful and kind and you have such a passion for life and helping people. You deserve happiness and I promise I will make you the happiest.”

You fell asleep that night wrapped under a second blanket under the night skies in Charlie’s arms. When you woke up that next morning, you woke up alone beside a letter and a picnic basket.

Darling,

I’m sorry that I’ve left without waking you or saying goodbye but I felt that last night was our perfect goodbye. It was happy and I couldn’t bare the thought of waking you up out of that happiness to tear it down and leave. Plus, you look adorable when you sleep.

I hope you forgive me for not waking you.

I meant every word that I said last night. I meant every word, every action, every breath and every touch. I have never felt so strongly for another person and I know that I never will again. This has been the most perfect summer... Why? Because it’s the summer that finally brought us together.

I’ve decided I’m going to write to you, I’ll try to write to you every week. I’ll tell you lots of stories and all about my adventures, we’ll keep the tradition going even if we’re not together in person. Please write back to me. Tell me all about your adventures, what you’re doing, what my family are doing. Tell me everything, even if it’s a story of you getting caught in the rain. Tell me everything because then I won’t have missed a thing when I get back and tell you what you already know.

There’s breakfast in the picnic basket, I did sneak a slice of toast, sorry about that, and I’ve put your clothes to the side. Don’t worry, there’s a protection bubble around our tree so that no one will interrupt or see you.

Enjoy the sunlight and think of me, will you? I’ll see you soon.

Yours,

Charlie

You sniffed as you finished the letter and then you read it again and again, not wanting to stop reading his lovely words. You clutched the letter to your chest as you let out a long breath trying desperately not to cry. Oh, how you wished you could just skip ahead to next summer. Wiping at your eyes, you opened the picnic basket to see your favourites piled up complete with a rose on top, “Charlie Weasley,” you smiled, “you incredible, incredible man.”

It would be hard to go almost a year without seeing him but even in the short time that you got to experience a love with Charlie, you’d felt happy and hopeful about the future. You couldn’t wait for that first letter to arrive.

You’d had breakfast, gotten dressed and packed the picnic basket back up before setting off back to the Burrow. It was Fred and George who met you first. They hugged you tightly, knowing that you’d be sad with Charlie leaving, “I just have to say,” Fred started, “out of all of your siblings you chose to fall in love with, I’m glad it was Charlie.”

“Yeah... could you imagine if you’d fancied Percy? Merlin’s beard, I’d have to knock some sense into you.”

#one shot #os #prompt #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley one shot #charlie weasley #charlie weasley os #reader insert #harry potter #hp #harry potter one shot #harry potter os #hp one shot #hp os #charlie weasley x female!reader

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pevchpits · 3 years

Text

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 "𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙘𝙠" 𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙤. 𝘤𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘩𝘦 /𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘺. 𝘣𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭. 𝘦𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘳.

❛ I don't worry, don't worry, don't worry about people in my face I hit 'em with the style and grace, and watch their ankles break ❜

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 . 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 . 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 . 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 . 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳 . 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 . 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 . 𝘥𝘰𝘤. 𝘢𝘭𝘭 . 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘪𝘰 ⤵︎

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗔𝗣𝗣.

〔 ian anthony dale, 40, cis man, he/him ) CHARLES “CHUCK” HIRANO was seen listening to BAD BAD NEWS BY LEON BRIDGES on their way to ENVIRONMENTAL ENGINEERING. CHUCK is known to be CREATIVE & STUBBORN.

𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗦.

full name: charles hirano nicknames: chuck is his preferred name, charlie can be used on occasion birth date: september 12, 1982 hometown: born in sao paolo, brazil; raised predominantly in vancouver, british columbia, canada ethnicity: european, japanese gender: cis man sexuality: bisexual religion: agnostic occupation: environmental engineering living situation: home owner languages: english, various programming languages, fluent japanese and portuguese, conversational french, spanish, and mandarin ( chuck only has his private tutors to thank ) height: 5 ft 11 in / 1.8034 m tattoo(s)/piercing(s): none. clothing style: chuck, despite swearing that appearances mean nothing to him, likes to dress on the nicer side when he’s not on sight. a nice pair of slacks, button downs, and form fitting sweaters are some of his signature pieces. hobbies: landscaping! not even gardening particularly but landscaping is big for him. building in general ( swing-sets, tree houses, random counter spaces for the kitchen ), anything that involves spending time with his daughter. billards/pool tournaments with friends when he convinces himself he has the time. photography ( especially of his daughter ). he’s played on a few adult recreational league sports teams. reading, predominantly political and/or historical biographies/autobiographies or historical fiction.

𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗕𝗜𝗢.

Life was easy growing up: travels, nannies there to pick up the messes he would make, and tutors there to make sure, amongst all the fun, Charles Hirano was still making the grades his parents expected. His life path was set ahead, clearly lined, with no little diversions or side paths left to be traveled. After high-school, it was straight onto one of the various universities his parents had connections to in order to study business or economics, during university he would intern at his parents’ fossil-fuel company, and then when he graduated he would land a gig and climb the ladder. Take his place. Secure the family legacy.

The world may have been at his fingertips, all his for the taking as his father liked to say, but that world was small. Born and raised inside an echo chamber of his parents and their colleagues beliefs that were never challenged in the private school filled with students from families just like his, Chuck thought he had life figured out by the time he first stepped foot on his university’s campus.

His first class, an elective he chose just to fill his required credit load, was an ethics course in urban planning, and by the first week, his entire major and course plan had changed. Ethics courses replaced economics, environmental science courses replaced entrepreneurship, and engineering courses replaced e-commerce.

By the time his parents realized the switch, it was already to late. They had been too busy dealing with their own business by the time he forwarded the graduation ceremony dates, and Chuck had already snagged a job assisting the city planner and city public health commissioner of Huntsville with short-term and long-term projects for the city. It was a humble gig, and certainly not the one his parents wanted him to take, but Chuck was sold.

[ pregnancy tw ] Once in his new home, it didn’t take long for him to flourish both in his role and social life. He was a bright light with something to prove, and that caught the eyes of his superiors, friends, and who would soon become the mother of his beloved daughter. They started as just friends, as she had been dating one of their mutual friends, but one thing led to a next, and when she went through a horrible break-up, it was Chuck’s shoulder she leaned on. He thought he had found the one, even brought up marriage when he finally made enough to save up for a nice right and nice wedding, so it was the least bit alarming when she found out she was pregnant. The two were happy and excited for this next stage of their life. [ tw end ]

With the promise of marriage in the near future, a new baby girl, and a recent promotion to a full-time environmental engineer for the city, Chuck got comfortable. More effort was put on work and making sure he could build a legacy all his own for his family and eventually save up for that big wedding than on the actual relationships he was working so hard for. By the time his daughter was four, enough was enough. She had fallen out of love, and while it was never explicitly stated, Chuck knew he was the only one to blame.

Years past, and he tried harder both for himself and his daughter. He still has his moments where he’ll get too in his head: dinner will be forgotten about, he’ll be late to picking up his daughter from her mother’s, but he cares, and he’s trying and hoping one day it’ll stick.

𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦.

- character inspiration: sandy cohen from the oc, jacob yi from minari

- feels as if he has a lot to prove, which only intensifies whenever someone finds out what his parents did and where he came from

- fell in love with design/landscaping/engineering type of work earlier than college, he just never realized it. he’d spend hours creating his own little worlds with whatever he could find around house: desert palaces in sand, mud huts with their own mini gardens, and mazes of snow tunnels feeding into various areas around the family backyard

- extremely smart but can often lack ‘common sense’ and forgets things quite easily

- can come off as a bit intense in work spaces but is very laid back in his social life. snarky and sarcastic at times ( most of the time ) sure, but especially with his daughter, chuck wants her to be able to explore and make mistakes and learn from them without the weight of “expectations”

𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦.

platonic. good pals give him a group of friends! friends that he had through his ex that are now in a bit of a awkward situation but still loving. coworkers ( chuck works for the city so anything govt, engineering, outdoorsy probably has some overlap ), fellow parents! teachers! anyone involved in adult sports teams he might’ve run into ( definitely jack-of-all-trades but master of none in sports, likes it for social aspect and competition ) familial. siblings.... we’d have to work on how they got here, but i imagine he was estranged from most of them. his daughter’s family on her mother’s side! romantic. his ex. maybe one or two dates/flings he’s had to ‘get out there’ since the break-up negative. anyone who might be turned off by his opinionated self! work rivals. anyone angry for how he treated his ex!

#sero.intro #ch. charles hirano — all.#ch. charles hirano — intro.#pregnancy tw

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elisabeth-carrion · 3 years

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2020 was... a year. Tbh, 2019 was worse for me. Ive read my 2019 diary and i dont know how i managed, and in the end i was still optimistic. 2020 was supposed to be my year of spoiling myself and doing new things. Of course not everything went according to the plan.... but i managed to do a few things.

Lets see

This year i did two things i thought i would never, ever do. Like even last year, i didnt even consider it. 1. i got a tattoo. The idea came to me at the beginning of the year, the plan was to do it in spring, but then quarantine happened, then renovations, and in the end i had it done in september. Its a flower and i love it.

2. i left academia. last year i got accepted into phd program. It was a mess and in the end, i had enough. Ive stayed a few months longer for the scholarship money, and resigned. I am now academia free and enjoying my very frist study free christmas break. Im vibing

among other thing, there are: 3. i cut my hair. it was waist lenght and i cut it shoulder lenght. I dont know why it was such a huge deal for me, but it was. The hair grew back real fast and i had it cut again in november. I think im gonna keep it this way. Or shorter. I’ll see.

4. had my ears pierced. I had one set of earrings, now i have two. I bought a lot of earrings. I really like it. More jewerly is better jewelry.

5. discovered the band breaking benjamin, very nice

6. discovered the book captive prince. ive read it three times already. would recommend

7. made a candle out of what was left of other candles. easier than i thought, but putting dried flowers into it wasnt a good idea

8. made a hat. and then another hat. im kinda proud of them. didnt get to wear them outside yet tho

9. made a brooch. out of an old notebook cover and christmas decor. its kinda big. i dont mind

10. made a head band. this one needs some improvements tho

11. i thought online classes and im still alive. i prefer real life classes but i managed. i learned about teaching too, i hope i can improve my knowledge next year

12. renovated my kitchen! it was old and disgusting. now its nice and clean and pretty and i love it

13. started french, german and turkish on duolingo somewhere around march. im still doing it every day. kinda like it!

14. tried embroideiry. it was fine. i want to go to embroidery class after the plague is over

15. started taking my own outfit photos. i got a cheap tripod for it and it works!

16. honesly i didnt count it, but i did some writing. I didnt finish anything, but i wrote significantly more than in the past. I want to finish something next year

17. started using reusable pens again. sadly the ink doesnt really work on some of my cheap notebooks... it leaks. But i do when i can

18. expanded and cleared my wardrobe. I love every single dress i have. I cant believe i really do have a full wardrobe of pretty dresses! its a dream that came true

19. shaved my eyebrow. they grew back darker. now i have visible eyebrows for the first time in my life

20. got a resuable shaving blade. it looks baddas and i have so many razors they will last me a lifetime

21. met the google car! cant wait to see myself on google street view.

22. i learned kanji like crazy, im over 1700 now. Thats enough for the n2 exam, i will try to take it in december next year

23. renovated my room and rearranged the furniture. It is now the cute pink room i wanted for some time. I got a cute carpet and a vanity table. I feel like a princess and for the first time i feel that all my belongings are in order

24. started studying and doing tarot. i got cards for birthday and got really into it

25. assembled a diy tiny doll room. It was fun! its like puzzles but 3d. Its not perfect but i really enjoyed it

26. seen Laura Makabresku exhibition in Sosnowiec. It was nice.

27. Seen tour de pologne race. kinda randomly, i didnt plan to, but it was nice

28. went to a watercolor class. i really enjoyed it!

29. survived the plague so far

30. started counting calories again. in the past i did it to control, to restrict, and to punish. Now i just want to know

Ive tried new things. I wrote down every single one of them, even the tiniest: 1. kurtosz in both sweet and sour verson

2. Kitkat in the following tastes: melon, peanut butter, salt caramel, gold caramel, strwaberry, salty lemon

3. okonomiyaki

4. carrot kissiel

5. smoking . yes im doings some back to the teenage years things. it tasted like ashes. i still have some left i dont know what i will do with them

6. spring rolls /sajgonki

7. chinese take out fried pasta

8. dandelion and burdock tea

9. mushroom bun - a polish street food with pieczarrki

10. pancakes with juice instead of milk. kind of accidently but it is a thing

11. boiled corn

12. lavender lemonade

13. vegan subway

14. salty licorice

15. vegan sandwich from żabka

16. oyakata soy ramen

17. halvah wafffles

18. gingerbread twix

19. shampoo in a bar... like soap but its shampoo. very nice

20. tofubar

21. bora bora black tea that tastes like roses

22. chocolate coated ginger

23. flavored coffe: five flavour mix, marzepan, raspberry meringue

24. Visited a few new coffe shops and restaurants [sowa, we coffee, mont blanc, zicherka, pod prosiakiem, kaffka, zielona krowa, proper coffee, suzette, starbucks, coffee faza, pigal] and places [zamek sielecki, this one park that has no name but has rainbow lights]. It may seem insignificat but for me its a big deal to visit a new place even if its just a coffee shop.... and its stressful. so yes im proud of that

i must say that i changed. im not the same person anymore. ive grown, ive learned my wants and needs, i started giving myself what i want and what i need, and maybe even more importantly, ive stopped punishing myself. No more of that. I deserve everything and im gonna get it :)

#i hope the list next year is going to be longer!!!!!#with bigger dreams accomplished!!!!#elisabeth no hitokoto

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staycatcher · 5 years

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Anguish 001- Anguish

“Out of genuine free will, I, Lee Minho, exercise the divine right to reject my sacredly designed soulmate.”

Member: Lee Minho / Lee Know x Femme Reader (she / her)

Au: Frat Boi! Minho + Rejected Soulmate AU

Genre: Angst (some comedy?,, this series is gonna be angsty because of the whole ‘rejected soulmate’ thing)

Rated T for a whole lotta swearing, a frat party, crowds, usage of alcohol and mentions of drugs, intensity, reader is a bit socially anxious (please lmk if any other warnings are needed!💞🥺)

Word Count: 4k & manually double spaced between words & paragraphs for ease of reading!!!!🥵🤠🥰

Note: this is dedicated to @trixareforlix, they’re the first-ever friend I made on here and they’re the one who sparked this frat au idea!! Ilysm always angel!!<33

Edited: 201015 (Original: 190813 )

Anguish series 1/?- ~001~, 002

The anticipated day where you’d become magnetized, the world around you becoming a blur, your heart falling into perfect sync with the one destined for you truly… was not like that at all, actually! No, the stars were cruel to you, perhaps you did something awful in your past life to deserve this, but maybe what is more likely is that your soulmate’s just an asshole. After all, one’s soulmate was the complete opposite of one’s self. Soulmates were the yin to one’s yang and vice versa and all that. To keep one balanced, or whatever.

Now, you aren’t the angel everyone may claim you to be. You weren’t angelic, not at all. Eating ice cream for breakfast was not above you. Your nail polish was perpetually chipped. You couldn’t stand to keep your hair in the same style for too long; chopping it all off or seeing how long it could grow, dying it as bright as you could, and everything in between. You adorned yourself with two or three more piercings than your parents could get behind, bless them, you’re beginning to have trouble hiding your new tattoo. Habitually, you were sensitive, soft, a bit emotional, and tended to be a bit of a smartass. You weren’t blessed with physical grace, ceaselessly tripping over yourself, spilling and knocking over anything in your path, and dancing out of beat to blasted songs.

More often than not, you would go to bed later than planned. Tonight was one of those nights, but it was not because of your natural preference. You were not too figuratively dragged into this by someone who held the title of your best friend, someone whom you were currently thinking of ways of revoking that title from.

“C’mon, dummy! We’re almost there!” Jamie elbowed you, her eyes crinkled in laughter, whacking you on the back a bit too hard.

“Jamie, I must’ve forgotten, but why’re you even dragging me to this frat party again? Why not just go to your sorority instead?” You groaned, your two left feet were dragging behind you on the aged sidewalk, your fake Doc Martens feeling like cinder blocks.

“‘Cause Chris invited me and he’s being a little bitch about it because I keep canceling on ‘im! He keeps saying that my soulmate might be there!” She reminded you for the umpteenth time, rolling her head and eyes back in frustration, sighing before continuing. “And now it’s like- I might as well try and see! I mean, come on!~ I’m starting to think he’s right!” And for the umpteenth time today, you question why she’s falling for this. She’s sharper than this. But for some reason, just this once, she found a way to shoehorn Chris’s dumbassery to logic.

In reality, you could meet your soulmate at any time or place, so to say that one's soulmate might be there is like saying it might rain. Sure, it might. But it also can rain in any season so you can’t be wrong with saying that it might. It doesn’t always rain every day, all the time, so it also isn’t that likely. Rain depends on a lot more factors. But right now, you’re a little buzzed, so it sounded pretty sound.

“So he knows your soulmate?”

“I’d hope so! If not, I’d rip his bleached hay-hair right out of his thick skull!” Now, this is the Jamie you knew and loved, you couldn't help the endeared smile on your face. “When we could’ve been eating takeout and watching a musical-“

“So which frat are we going to again?” You had to interrupt her for her sake. Takeout and a movie would always remain superior to parties in your mind and you already didn’t want to be accompanying her to a frat house.

“Hmm… It’s like- uh... Signal kite zing- wait no- hold on-“

You guys must be tipsier from the pregaming than you thought. “Sigma? ‘Signal’ isn’t greek, I think you mean sigma! And ‘kite’ isn-”

“Right, whatever! Anyways, the abbreviation is SKZ-“

“Ohhh! We’re friends with some of them- We’re like best friends with Chris!! Why didn’t you say it was Chris’s frat in the first place?” Your laugh projecting out of you unattractively with claps and swings of limbs which led to slapping a little too hard at Jamie's shoulder. This clarification did make you feel a bit better. This wasn’t a shitty fraternity you didn’t know, this was a shitty fraternity you inevitably tolerated since you knew and even approved of some of its members!

SKZ was home to a hodgepodge of eight brothers who were pretty individual as far as frat dudes go. Some of which you were genuinely fond of, like Chris, or simply acquainted with, like Jisung, whom you shared a major and program with. Others, you couldn’t even remember the names of or who they are in general. It’s also the smallest frat on campus, so they try to get as many people to come to events as possible, which is honestly exhausting as a concept to your introverted self. Thus, you’ve never actually attended one of theirs until now, now that Jamie is dragging you along with her.

“Ow! I don’t know!~ I thought you were smart enough to figure it out when I mentioned Chris!” She teased, making the two of you laugh harder, you couldn’t defend yourself on that one. The two of you just continued your idiotic banter the rest of the way to the Sigma Kappa Zeta house aka the SKZ frat.

The walk to SKZ’s lair was a bit much, more than you and Jamie bargained for. You were so kindly carrying her platforms for her until she’ll put them back on again, only for you to probably end up kindly carrying them again later tonight. The cool breeze of the September night helped with the humidity and sweat, and the sun beautifully set, leaving a delicate lilac color in its wake which was becoming darker and darker the further you walked. The hazy streetlights added to the whimsy atmosphere, yet to be ruined with the sound of an intolerable amount of bass and the overbearing smell of beer and weed when the two of you arrived on site.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure it’s this house!” Jamie halted her steps, turning towards you, her hair swaying along with the belled sleeves of her mesh turtleneck she had under her dress. The two of you really dolled yourselves up for the night, her hair was perfect, your hair was perfect, outside was perfect, and it brought you sobering back to the not-so-perfect earth. The idea of going inside a suffocating, putrid house majorly crowded with drunk and hormonal peers... was not appealing to you in the least.

“Yup, and now it’s time to turn back around!” You quipped, ensnaring her arm with your empty one, about to steer the two of you in a three-point-turn. This was your final chance at getting out of your predicament, and now that you’re here you regret playing along. Sadly, Jamie was just as stubborn as you, and your turn around was met with a roadblock.

“Oh my god, Y/n, you’re joking! We walked the whole ass way here!” She got out in between puffs of airy frustration, her socked heels digging into the ground as you attempted, gracelessly, to steer the two of you around.

“Okay, okay, fine. We did come all this way and now our drinks’ve worn off.” You acknowledged with an irritated huff. “Okay- how about we go in and get some drinks, and then we’ll leave?!” Your pitch going up with each word of your attempt to negotiate before forcing out a chuckle, your laugh did its best to hide the fact that your body was beginning to stick with sweat and anxiety.

“No, ‘and then�� we’ll find Chris to hook me up!” She playfully fought back but it was hard to take her seriously, or yourself, with how the two of you were laughing, hers genuine, yours not so much.

“Jesus Christ, you really are set on this ‘finding your soulmate’ thing.” You breathed. As much as you hated social gatherings, you loved your best friend much, much more, therefore you were willing to be won over in the name of friendship. Though, she would owe you for this! Fortunately for her, food and drink is fair trade in you and your wallet’s eyes.

“I’m lonely, okay! I’d prefer winning the lottery but this is the next best thing!” Jamie, as per usual, brought the two you back right to laughter instantly. She had her mind made up. Plus, with you giggling it made it all the easier for her to haul the both of you right up the steps of the SKZ Frat House stairs.

Once in, Jamie stuck close to your side, literally, but not that she had the natural choice or much of an alternative; this place was packed to the gills! Jumping up on her now platform clad feet, looking for anyone she recognized or any signs of Chris, while you led the two of you, hopefully, to a kitchen. You were practically kicking yourself each step of the way as you shoved your way through the crowd. The air was stuffy and possibly even toxic, to say the least. The scent is much more foul than last you remember, pungent with alcohol, sweat, cigarettes, weed, hints of puke, and dashes of all sorts of pheromones. Despite the few times you’ve smelled this scent, it never failed to make you wish you didn’t leave your safe, sanitary bed.

There’s jabbing elbows and flailing parts of strangers everywhere that had to be watched out and dodged for, sloshing cups, sometimes drunken flirtatious hands grabbing at you, not at all fazed by the pretty companion you had your elbow linked with. The sway of the hoards of people was beginning to get you motion sick, but you were determined to keep wading through, trying to hike through this high tide, but you couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. You were cursed with a soft, approachable face that just begged to be messed with. Even in times like these, where your thoughts are nothing short of bitchy, the message would never get across with a resting bitch face. Your love for dark attire didn’t matter. Your baby face and aura won every match. Not even the eyeliner and dark lipstick you preferred could save you. All you could do is hope that your best friend’s intimidation and delightfully loud presence was enough for the two of you as you keep planting one foot after the other.

“Fucking hell!” You barely gasped out, finally freed out of the main room, and now into the hallway. The seasick claustrophobia no longer had its poisonous grips on your soft, easy to bruise skin, though, you did need to catch your breath.

“Finally!” Jamie sighed loudly and melodically, patting you on the back and easily recovering. Before she headed straight into the kitchen to scope out the place, possibly for anyone she knew and, perhaps, her Special Someone.

“So did ya see anyone you knew, Jame?” You called after her upon entering what appeared to be a stereotypical scene of the kitchen during a college party. Cliche red solo cups scattered everywhere, filled at varying degrees. A beer keg or two, some cheap bottles of vodka splayed about, remnants of ash from blunts, a couple or two aggressively making out against the wall, and four or five random stragglers fidgeting with their phone or talking overly loudly to each other. You know, the usual.

“Ughh, no” She answered reluctantly. “They have to be somewhere else, maybe, like upstairs or downstairs, right?!”

Before you could reply, behind you, you heard an enthusiastic “Jamie!!” then a muffled, “you finally made it!!” The familiar voice had you jerking your head to see if your ears were failing you, evidently, they weren’t. Right away you see Chris tackling Jamie in a hug before he met your eyes with his comically wide ones.

“Aaaahhh!! Y/n’s here too?!”

“Yeah! Don’t we look cute?” Jamie fluffed up her cropped, newly dyed hair you helped her do, yours also in a similar state.

“Yeah, but Y/n looks better.” He teased, giggling and slapping her in the arm; unsurprising, as it’s their usual fashion.

“Oh my god! Why did I come here?! Okay, we’ll leave then, Chris.” Jamie joked right back at him, snatching at your hand like it was a prize to be won and taking you away with her. Unfortunately for you, this was just a well-meaning joke, you weren’t going to be set free from a party anytime soon.

“Nooo! Don’t go!!” He dramatized, grabbing onto at Jamie, halting her from leaving with you in tow. Giggling so hard, he had to throw his head back to project it all. You snorted a “thank you” a bit late, too busy laughing. He just gave you a brotherly slap on the arm, on his way to leave before Jamie stopped him.

“Wait! What about my soulmate? You said they'd be here, remember!”

“Oh?” Chris’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Jamie nodded with stern wide eyes which seemed to spark back his doubtful memory, “Ahhh… downstairs… maybe… I think- hangin’ out! There’s a game about to start- Oh, yeah! That’s why I’m here-” he giggled to himself, “to get this!” He then snatched a full bottle of vodka from a sneaky cabinet you didn’t know about before ushering you guys along to follow him. Honestly, Chris didn’t make it sound too promising that Jamie’s soulmate could be down there, but it’s the best lead you got.

Shyly, you followed behind the two as he led the way to the basement. With Chris as your guide, it was relatively smooth sailing, the crowd parting minimally to make way for the president of the frat. Before you know it, you’re walking down some nasty ass carpeted stairs, forcing your eyes from questionable stains to look for a rail instead to hold onto. Strangely enough, walking down the steps was comforting somehow, the feeling as if it were inviting you in. Like it assigned you a duty instead of the alienating fish out of water experience you had earlier on the main floor.

“I picked up some stragglers!” Chris cheered as he turned into the room.

“Yeah, but did you bring the alcohol?” A brazen voice you’ve never heard before shot straight through you. You could feel it run through you with tingles down your spine and goosebumps up your arms.

“Hell yeah I did, ya jackass!”

When the two of you turned the corner, the world slowed down and your muscles instantly seized up, halting you into place without consent. Your insides clench tight, wrapping itself into a knot. Suddenly you were sweating, but in contrast, your vision looked as though you were looking through a nice refreshing glass of pink lemonade. Normally steady hands were now shaky, your ears and cheeks beginning to glow beet red. You could feel yourself beginning to sweat at the nape of your neck and underarms; all this from the sudden voice of the stranger! -What? What’s going on?!-

Immediately, your gaze pans around the room before they landed on the source, long-lashed eyes holding a dark chocolate glaze and shivering you to the bone. Like a hooked fish, you couldn’t look away. The initial astonishment of just the sensations couldn‘t compare to exploring the face in front of you.

Chiseled cheeks, and angular brows. Pouty naturally downturned lips were discovered underneath an impossibly perfect, pointy nose. Everything about him was like the artwork, his slightly covered forehead was somehow artistic as if even the space between the brow and the hairline was something new that your narrow mind could never possibly understand. His hairline soon revealed a head of luscious black hair, unrealistically voluminous, shiny and soft. Honestly, his hair was screaming at you to test out if it could be possible, that someone who looked like this was real. His entire face and head on his shoulders didn’t make conceivable sense. Maybe it’s just you, but a person this perfect couldn’t exist and you have yet to venture south to see how perfect the rest of him could possibly be.

“Y/n? Are- are you okay?”

You vaguely felt or heard your best friend at your side, but it wasn’t decipherable. Everything but this guy in front of you was fuzzy, blurry to you. All the energy in your being focused on this human in front of you. His silky, messily parted locks, begging for you to test if it was as soft as it looked. His sharp features. His lips a natural coral-y color that began to shine and glimmer with saliva as his glossy tongue began to trail along those chapped lips. You shot your eyes back to his, reeling you back in like the prey you began to feel. Oh, sweet, sweet baby Jesus, is this really happening?!

“I-“ both of you started at the same time. Embarrassingly enough, it seems as though the blurry figures of everyone else in the corner of your eyes caught on to something the two of you were oblivious to. Everyone started jumping and screaming, whooping chaotically, and taking over your vision. The slow world disappeared in a blink, launching you right back to its now rapid, woozy speed. With everyone pushing and shoving around you in excitement it was not at all helping with your wibbly-wobbly state.

Suddenly, you felt many different arms coming at you, wrapping around you, constricting you, and jumping around with you in their arms in excitement. There was a deafening amount of rambunctious hooting and hollering it was almost as if the team they were rooting for won the SuperBowl.

“And here I thought Y/n was Jamie’s soulmate!” Chris guffawed and they all joined in, all besides you and this guy- WAIT- did Chris say- say ‘soulmate’?? No, he couldn’t have!

“Soulmate?” Equally, as soon as you internally questioned the word choice, you heard his earth-shattering voice speak again, despite the fact he merely whispered, softly wondering aloud. He spoke aloud what you were thinking, right when you thought it!

You couldn’t get enough of his voice, especially now when you can’t see him in the crowd. His voice was light, honey-colored, dreamy, just the perfect amount of deep, it made you want to taste his lips to see if he’s as sweet as he sounded. You, yourself, were still in the locked-in-place state, still too shell shocked to even make a step forward, your poor brain overworking itself to make sense of any of this.

“Really?” In elated shock you chirped, slowly giving in to the hugs and excited jumping with wide and confused eyes. Is this for real? This is really happening?!

“Holy fuck, Y/n!” Jamie managed to get you, pulling you a bit too crushingly in a hug. “I can’t believe it! You found your soulmate in this shitty basement and not me!” She playfully teased, there was no ill will behind it.

By now the situation was beginning to sink in a teeny bit and you were shocked, to say the least. Frankly, you were starting to think that this day would never come. You had a soulmate and your soulmate looked like that! You were over the moon, even if you felt a bit guilty that you found your soulmate at this party instead of Jamie. It was the plan of this whole night, after all. Now that it was you, you didn’t know how to react. You were completely and utterly unprepared.

“I’m so sorry, Jamie.” You pulled her back in closer, crushing her back into you, eyes watering, lip trembling. “Oh my god, I think I might- I think I might cry.” You hiccupped into her chic mesh turtleneck and dress combo. This is too much. Too too much.

“Heyy!~ Don’t feel bad for me! It’s okay!” Jamie simply chortled, patting your head deeper into her chest, her usual protocol if you were about to seriously cry.

Humiliatingly enough, you heard a few guys begin to chant “don’t cry!” in the background. Your small moment of sincerity and calm was soon interrupted by Chris.

“Well isn’t this fun! You know what this means!”~

“Minho’s soulmate’s a lil’ bitch?” You heard Jisung, the kid whom you shared your major and many classes with, taunt. His words forcing you forward, ready to fight the kid. He’s a child, literally a child! Why do I associate myself with him?! I swear to god-

“Hey, hey, hey! It was a joke!” He squeaked away from you. He was too speedy, no chance for you and your heavy ass boots stomping after him. Safely, he skidded behind the couch, behind whom you’re assuming is “Minho”, which had your boots screeching to a halt.

Though you were scrambling after Jisung, your eyes naturally met Minho’s as you halted. Once again, your body is preparing to either fight or flight. His face was glowing like he was some sort of ethereal being, wracked up in deep, attractive concentration. In contrast, your face was beginning to burn up an embarrassing amount, your body already turning into inoperable mush. You couldn’t say anything if you tried. Any sentence structure your brain tried to form didn’t make any grammatical or logical sense, your mind racing like a hamster on a wheel. Your neural pathways were glowing, steaming with this sudden overstimulation, leading you to the same frazzling answer each and every time:

This person right in front of you? Yeah, that’s your soulmate.

A hush was spread throughout the previously hype basement, all eyes immersed in the two of you speechlessly enraptured in each other. The longer you stood there, the more you could take him in and get used to him and the idea of him. You were warming up to him, he became more and more real with each millisecond. You've studied his eyes so passionately now that could see his dark chocolatey pupils when you closed your eyes. You were no longer overwhelmed but now enchanted by his features and general presence. His cheekbones are no longer an unfamiliar art piece. His aura was still intimidating as before, but now it appeared to the cheeky kind of way like you wanted to see what amount of scary he was capable of. It was a long, jittery, drawn-out pause before anything happened, not that you noticed.

“Out of genuine free will,” You just smiled, staring at his naturally downturned lips. Only by reading his lips did you pay attention to what he was saying- Wait, what?

“I, Lee-” Hold on a second.

“Minho-” No.

“Exercise the divine right to” This isn’t happening to me. This isn’t-

“Reject my sacredly designed-” happening. No. No. It can’t be. It’s not p-

“Soulmate.” -ossible.

The electric, exciting, high energy pause between us fell and wilted. Died just like that. The connected red strings that tied Minho and yourself were chopped off on his own accord, bringing icy cold into the room in its wake. A harsh blizzard overwhelming the space. Gasps of shocked air were being taken in from everyone in this basement, everyone, including Lee Minho.

You got a gasp of bitter cold in through your lungs before you were struck like lightning. Lightning of feverish torture took over your body, struck you directly in the heart and brain before it flashed through your veins carrying the harsh poison of rejection.

You heard a pathetic squawk tear its way out of your chapped lips, the anguish forcing you down to your knees as if you were directly stabbed in the heart. The electric, immediate painful reaction faded, bringing boiling throbs through all your cells, not leaving one out. It was unlike anything you could describe, no, imagine. It was as if the blood in your veins was replaced with boiling water and your heart was simultaneously squeezed and electrocuted in the grasps of electric hands. Maybe it was the hands of Satan dragging you down with him.

Blurrily, through fresh, hot tears, you swear you could see Minho physically flinch in response, immediately, sprinting out of the room as if he was escaping from a house on fire.

That was the last you saw before it all faded to black.

167 notes · View notes

poignantpulchritude · 4 years

Text

Silly Pleasures-Chapter 5

I starred at the text for fifteen minutes before I walked into Molly’s room.

“I don’t know what to do,” I pouted, collapsing onto her floor like a toddler. She looked down at me from her prone position on her bed. Molly was no doubt irritated that I interrupted yet another episode of Made in Chelsea with my frequent interruptions. She should be happy I at least had clothes on this time.

“With what?”

Instead of answering, I shoved my phone in her direction, urging her to take it from me. She looked puzzled at the device in her hand, glancing up one moment to speak, but she decided against it and went back down to the text at hand.

Hiya Jeanne! Interested in getting drinks Friday night???

“I’m confused,” Molly finally stated. I gave her a blank look, waiting for her to continue. Along with knowing a great deal about my life before London, Molly also knew that very few boys were in the picture ever since we started living together over a year ago. I kept my male interactions mostly virtual. Any message from a boy, besides Keith, was shocking. “Who is this anyways?” she finally asked, noticing there was no name at the top of the message

I mumbled his name under my breath.

“Huh?”

“Harry,” I whispered again.

“Who the fuck is Harry?” she asked, confused. I just looked long and hard at her before something clicked in her head. She suddenly leapt up on her bed to stand, her skull almost touching the ceiling. “No!” she yelled with eyes wide and voice alarmed. “No fucking way! You’re lying! Oh, my god! Yes, yes, yes!” She continued the squealing for a few more moments before she jumped off the bed and got close to my face, kissing my checks ardently. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Help me!” I whined back at her.

“Oh, this changes everything! Okay. Okay, we can do this.” Molly took a deep inhale and exhale before continuing on. “So obviously, the answer is yes! But your-“

“I don’t think I can say yes,” I interrupted her.

“What! Why?”

“I’m so awkward around guys that are cute! You should have seen me at Dallas’s yesterday,” remembering my abnormal behavior towards Harry and feeling embarrassed all over again.

“I’ve never understood this with you! Like…you sort of flirt for a living? May I remind you that you literally masturbate on the internet for crowds of people!”

“That’s different! They pay me and I don’t meet them!” I defended. “Besides, they are extremely horny so they are less focused on me and instead are paying attention to Phoebe, their ‘horny cum slut,’” I told her, raising the pitch of my voice to match a girly stereotype.

“Eww stop!”

“That’s my shtick, it’s what paid for this flat!”

“But you don’t need to be so vulgar about it, I already have to hear it when I’m home,” Molly sulked. I was immediately concerned.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it bothered you that much. I’ll by some more sound proofing equipment-,” she cut me off before I could finish.

“No, it doesn’t bother me terribly. It just reminds me sometimes of how little I get shagged on the daily. And I hate the c-word.”

“Cum or cunt?”

“STOP!”

I smiled jokingly at her at her reaction. As I spoke my next few words, my tone became more serious. “I’m just shy,” I said quietly, “He was really nice and I don’t want to mess it up. I don’t even know what ‘it’ is. To make it worse, there are so many logistical problems to even begin to fantasize about going out with him.”

“Well, you should try. Don’t count yourself out before you even know.” She gave me a sweet, yet slightly pitiful look. I so often made excuses to avoid situations that had the possibility of being painful or upsetting. If I never leave my comfort zone, nothing is scary-and I was okay with that. Molly clearly had different ideas for me. We made extended eye contact and I could tell that this was her way of urging me to take my phone from her hand.

“Should I pick the location or have him do it,” I conceded. Molly smiled brightly, before starting to draft the most appropriate response. “And you’re coming with me!”

“Okay, maybe we shouldn’t be doing shots in the back of the Uber, Jeanne,” Molly communicated to me on our way to a fancy bar in North London. I was taking swigs of vodka from a flask shaped like a tampon on our way to meet Harry. With the help of Molly, I was able to solidify plans with him to have drinks at a bar in his area of town. I begged Molly to come because I knew myself well enough to know that meeting Harry Styles by myself at a bar would give me severe anxiety. Though she at first was against the idea of her joining me, I could tell that she was secretly freaking out inside. Luckily, the whole hang out was more casual, with his other friends already invited.

Even though I had backup in the form of my best friend, the liquid courage that good Russian vodka delivers could not be forgotten tonight. Molly quickly ripped the tampon from my hand as I went for a third swig. “C’mon now, you are not getting blacked out before even saying hello to him,” she chided sternly. To keep my mind off of the impending meeting, I started to fiddle aggressively with the frays in my demin shorts. Though it was September and the air was getting less and less friendly, it was hard to force myself into jeans, especially when going out drinking. Molly also encouraged me to show my personality through my clothing, so paired with the jean shorts were black cowboy boots, just in case people couldn’t get from my accent that I was American. On top, I settled on a white, long sleeve bodysuit, tight, but also practical. Molly looked much chicer than I did, in nice dark jeans and an expensive top. I looked a bit like I didn’t belong, though she assured me I stood out because I was different.

The vodka started to buzz through my veins when the Uber pulled up in front of the cocktail bar. “Should we wait here and I’ll just text him to come out and get us?” I asked her nervously. She gave me an annoyed look before pushing me out of the car first. I took a few deep breaths before finally turning towards the bar and walking inside.

Far from your average pub, this bar was sleek, with marble counters, leather booths, and bartenders that looked down on you if you ordered well liquor. It was comfortably crowded for a Friday, with people lounging in the elegant booths all around the room. As I searched the space nervously, I heard my named yelled from somewhere to the right. I spun to see Harry walking happily towards me. I noticed that even though he was such a well-known face, few people were gawking at him as he walked over. It must be a place he frequents, I thought.

It hurt to look at him. His hair was pushed high up his head and managed to look purposeful yet messy. My mouth dried up when he went in for a hug when he reached me. The shock I felt quickly melted away to awe when I noticed how good he smelled and felt how soft his cotton shirt was. But-

“Are you wearing a sweater vest?” I asked as I pulled back from the hug, not actually greeting him. He looked down at me, I was quite a bit shorter than he was, and smiled wide.

“It is! It’s Gucci,” he told me proudly, pointing out the animals scattered through the design.

“Bitchin,” was my only response. Nailed it. Molly cleared her throat softly to notify Harry of her presence.

“Oh hi, I’m Harry! You would be Molly then?” Harry asked sweetly, leaning in to hug her. Molly blushed deeply as he spoke to her, trying her very best to make coherent conversation.

After the brief introductions, he pointed towards the back corner of the room where five other people were sitting around a large, blue leather booth with drinks dispersed around the small tables before it. As we walked, I jumped slightly at the feeling of Harry’s hand lightly between my shoulders, guiding my way towards the group. My body suit was thin enough that I could feel the rings on his left hand. The pads of his fingers were rougher than I expected, surely calloused from frequent guitar playing. I covertly turned my head to look back at Molly behind us to see her mouthing words of encouragement and clapping excitedly. I did my best to hold in the shiver of excitement, not wanting him to feel just how jumpy he was making me.

“Everyone, this is Jeanne and Molly! We have here, Sara, Pixie, Francis, and then Nick and Eliot, who you’ve met Jeanne.” I wasn’t sure if our brief interactions were really considered meeting, but I smiled politely anyways and waved at the group. “Did you want a Mule?” Harry asked me as we took a seat and he caught the attention of a waiter. Molly sat down strategically, ensuring that I sat next to Harry near the end of the booth so she could prevent me from avoid Harry’s questions or jumping into conversations with other people.

“Oh, sure, that sounds great,” I smiled up at the waiter. Once he left, I looked back at Harry and muttered, “You remembered.”

“How could I forget the girl with the crazy tattoo and three condoms,” he responded, amused.

“Well, I only have one tonight so I’m breaking protocol.” I wanted to slap myself in the face at my words, but he seemed to enjoy the banter, eyes crinkling with laughter. I relaxed a bit, reveling in the knowledge that my random bursts of wit were pleasant to him.

“So, you said you are a model? Will I be seeing you in any shows soon?” He asked politely, trying to make genuine conversation about London Fashion Week starting in a few days.

“Definitely not!” I laughed, passing off my discomfort for humility. “I do, alternative modeling I guess,” I replied, as vaguely as possible. “Not runway.” He opened his mouth to clarify my answer when a Moscow Mule was placed in front of me. I took that distraction as an opportunity to move on. “I am a student though.”

“Oh really, what are you studying?” he inquired, sufficiently interested enough that the modeling questions seemed done for.

“Getting a PhD in History,” I affirmed proudly. His thick eyebrows rose, clearly impressed at my words.

“Well that tattoo really makes sense now,” he pointed to my left arm where my snake tattoo was hidden beneath fabric.

“Yup, thinking about Ben Franklin gets me wet.”

Harry choked on the beer he was swallowing as I spoke and I couldn’t help but giggle. Molly whipped her head away from a conversation with Pixie to glare at me. I ducked my head in shame at her gaze. “Oh shit, sorry Harry. I’m really vulgar on a normal day, it only gets worse when I-,”

“You’re good, you’re good,” he laughed, finally catching his breath. “Just a bit shocked is all.” I smiled awkwardly. “Speaking of tattoos, how’s Cecilia?”

“Oh, she’s good! Healing up nicely I think. How does Eliot like his tattoo?” I asked, referring his friend across the table.

“It’s fantastic! I’ll have to head back to that shop for some work sometime.” 

“Absolutely, they are brilliant.”

“You and your tattoo artist seemed very close, do you go to him often?”

“Yea, he’s done all of my tattoos here in London. That’s probably why we started dating.”

An awkward pause followed. That comment was a mistake on my part.

“Oh, you have a boyfriend?”

“No, no, no. I should have clarified, we dated for about a month around January.”

“Cool, cool,” Harry said slowly.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked politely, though I already knew the answer.

“Uh, no. That ended a while ago.” Harry’s tone became tinged with sadness at his own words.

In an effort to liven up the mood I responded, “Well, I don’t have a girlfriend either so we are in the same boat there.” That brought Harry mostly out of his obvious stupor, I could see his shoulders relax again.

“What is your favorite vulgar word?” Harry asked out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry?” I replied confused, tripping on the switch of conversation back to myself.

“You called yourself really vulgar, and saying you’re wet isn’t terribly vulgar. You can do better than that I’m sure.” My eyes widened at his words. I could not understand why this was the conversation he wanted to have. If Molly was in-between us, she surely would have pulled me aside and scolded me for even thinking of responding. But, alas, Molly was three people away.

“Okay, but are you prepared for how much you will cringe?” I asked him, getting excited from the alcohol in my veins. These types of conversations relaxed me immensely, I felt like I was talking to a close friend-not a godly man in a sweater vest that smelled like summer fruit.

“Bring it on.”

“Okay, so it’s my favorite because it’s used as a term of endearment. Just remember that, to me, it is an endearing phrase.” Harry looking at me in anticipation, nodding at my qualifying statement. Instead of blurting it out in front of all of his friends, I leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Oh, not this again!” Harry noted loudly, before I could speak, referencing our first meeting at Paradise. I playfully slapped his shoulder and he grinned back at me. As I leaned towards his ear I was thankful that he could not see the flush in my cheeks in response to his smile. The heat was radiating off of his skin as I whispered the vulgarity in his ear. As soon as the last syllable left my lips, he slammed his drink down on the table, inadvertently getting everyone else’s attention. “How is that endearing? Who calls you that?” he asks shocked. From my peripheral, I saw Molly lean her head down on her hand in embarrassment. I could tell she knew what we were talking about, clearly not meeting her standards of sweet, date conversation.

“I have lots of fans,” I responded humorously.

Harry leaned closer to me, blocking the view the others in our group had of my face. He attempted to make his face stern, but his voice was light as he said, “Now listen, you aren’t actually a prostitute, right? I can’t be catching a charge; my second album still has a few months to go.” I cackled at his words and pushed him lightly again.

“No, I’m not, stop with that now,” I playfully chided.

Harry looked at me silently for another moment before continuing. “I knew that night at Paradise you weren’t behaving that way just because you were drunk.”

“What do you mean?”

“All flirty! I thought for a minute at Union Jack that I completely misread you, but now I can tell I’m right.”

Choosing to brush over the knowledge that Harry thought I was flirting, albeit effectively, I fell into the trap to flirt more. “How do you know I’m not drunk right now?” I asked, feeling the alcohol in my veins, but knowing full well that I was far from drunk. He did not respond, and instead gave me a knowing look. I shrugged, “Well, I did take shots in the car on the way here,” and took a big sip of my own drink. Harry bellowed out a laugh in response.

Around 11, I felt it was time to depart from the bar and head home. Molly gave me pointers before meeting Harry that I should ‘leave him wanting more’ which meant leaving before he got tired. In an interesting turn of events, the vulgar conversation with Harry completely erased my nerves. The entire rest of the night I teased and giggled with him like we knew each other years prior. It was so weird, at one point, I entirely forgot he was a famous millionaire, only noticing because of the radio DJ sat beside him. He just became Harry. When I stood to leave, I accidentally brushed against Harry’s hand that was outstretched to place his glass down. This left a trail of goosebumps from the edge of my shorts down to my right knee up. I felt giddy.

The entire group walked outside together to wait for cars and to say proper goodbyes, free of the more confined space. Molly ended up bonding with Harry’s group, getting the numbers of everyone and promising to pass them onto me. Even though these people were also well known socialites, I felt completely comfortable in their presence. Harry did not strike me as someone to hang out with people he did not truly enjoy being around. Our car arrived first, just as I was finishing up hugs, ending with Harry. I was enveloped in his warmth again and his arms were tighter on me than earlier in the night. “Are you sure you don’t want to pop by Nick’s?” he asked, my stomach fluttering at the hopeful tone in his voice. I needed to keep him on his toes and I also knew I should really get home and get online. Bills do not magically pay themselves and nights were my most lucrative times for work. I shook my head.

“I should really get back home, I’ve got some work to do,” keeping it as ambiguous as I could. He released me as I moved to get into the car behind Molly. “Bye Harry.”

“See you soon, cum bucket!”

“Harry!” I squealed, looking back at him, as Molly roughly pulled me into the car. I could see through the windows of the car his beaming smile, so I decided to roll the window down and stick my middle finger outside. I heard a loud, hiccupping laugh on the sidewalk in response. Delighted and giggling, I turned back fully into the car to see Molly glaring at me.

“Cum bucket? Really J?” I heard the Uber driver snort in front of us, but try to hide it with a cough. I didn’t respond to Molly, choosing to lean my head onto her shoulder and muffle bits of my laughter. I slowly felt her body shake too. “You’re so nasty, but I guess he is too,” Molly said, laughter and awe in her voice. “But, Jesus, how is that endearing?”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #fan fiction #silly pleasures

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

According to Plan

A/N: Let’s see how college went for our boy Ash. Only 2 more chapters and an epilogue left guys! Hope you’re caught up!

And away, and away we go!

~~~

Chapter 14

Ashton

September 2016-May 2020

~~~

I fought with myself as my phone pinged, her name flashing across the screen, when she texted me that first week of September after I had left her apartment. Against my better judgement, I opened the message.

It’s Madison. I have news that I think you should hear, but I want to tell you face to face. So if you’re ever in Yale... Um, hope all is well. Bye.

I struggled with texting her back to see what she meant by news or deleting the message and moving on with my life like I had supposedly left her to do. In the end, I kept the message but never messaged her back.

I didn’t delete her number or the message, but I didn’t text her either after I left her apartment that August. I stayed in contact with everyone else, even staying with them when I played at their schools.

When I played Yale, I always went to her apartment building, but I could never bring myself to go up to her door. Just like I could never bring myself to text her back.

Duke itself was great. It felt good to be doing something I had always dreamed of doing. Not that it stopped the nights from dragging on for eternities at a time. Some nights I’d sit in the dark, nursing a beer or two, and flip through the photo album she gave me. Other nights, I’d dig through my drawers for the Yale sweater and cling to it for dear life. Then, there were the nights when I looked at that damn message. The message got me through my worst nights at Duke. I’d stare at it for hours and get a renewed sense of what I was trying to do with my life. Like the night she called me. I broke wide open when my phone rang, her contact flashing across the screen. In our short time together she had never once called me. I didn’t answer for two reasons 1.) the fear that it was a fluke and 2.) the fear that it would break me open more than I already was. I told myself that whatever news she wanted to tell me could wait for two years. I also told myself that I wouldn’t regret not texting her back or answering her call.

Only, she never turned up on my doorstep after two years. I guessed she had decided to chase after a Master’s degree after all. It stung, but I couldn’t hold that against her. I was the one who had ended things so she could be free in Yale. I had no one to blame but myself. So, I just kept going along with my life as best as I knew how.

I graduated from Duke, so with more free time on my hands, I worked more hours at my dad’s shop, now that I was officially hired. I was there that first Saturday after graduation, not wanting to spend the day alone in my apartment.

I spent the morning working on car after car, my mind blank except for the task in front of me. Around lunchtime, my dad finally kicked me out. “No, Ash. You don’t get to hide here,” he said. “Go live your life.”

“This is me living my life,” I told him, stubbornly.

“No, it’s not. You’ve been pretending for a long time. Ever since you left for Duke, you’ve been really good at acting like everything’s fine.”

“That’s because everything is fine. I went to Duke, like I always wanted. I played soccer for them like I always wanted. Now, I’m here, working on cars, like I’ve always wanted.”

“Still not enough, is it?”

I sighed, feeling seconds away from falling apart. “Why isn’t it?” I sighed again.

“Because you need the girl, Ash. So, stop moping and go get her.”

“I don’t even know where she is.”

“Yeah, you do. Go clear your head, and you’ll find her.”

So I drove. With the music up and the windows down, I drove. Occasionally I looked over, swearing she was in the seat next to me, like she used to be. When the growling in my stomach got to be too much to ignore, I drove to the diner.

I ignored the nostalgia that hit me as I opened the door and made my way to the booth. I did a double take as I noticed someone already sitting there. It couldn’t be, could it?

My truck keys nearly slipped out of my hand. I rubbed my eyes and pinched myself, hard, just to be sure this was real. Sure enough, there she was. Her long blonde hair framed her green eyes that were staring out the window, a fry making its way to her mouth. I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry. Nearly four years had past seen I’d last seen her and she still looked the same. Time had been kind to her.

I looked down at myself. My fingers were stained with grease. My jumpsuit looked in desperate need of a wash, as did the rest of me. I ran a hand along my jaw and under my chin. Yep, I could do with a shave, too.

I looked over at her again and all those old feelings came rushing back. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again. My memories of her and us flashed in front of me. And this time, I welcomed the flashbacks. I wanted to remember what it was like to be seventeen. Back before life got in the way. I close my eyes and let the memories flood my mind.

I shook my head to clear away that last goodbye and walked over to her. I waved my hand in front of her to get her attention as I slid into the seat across from her.

Her eyes lit up as she scanned my face, and realized that it was really me. “Hey,” she smiled. “You kept your hair short, it looks good that way.” She got up and gave me a quick hug. “You look good, Ash.”

I went up to run my hand through my hair, that I had kept short ever since Prom, then remembered how gross my hands were. “Yeah, decided I was long overdue for a new look.” Then, my mind processed what had just happened. “Wait… did you just? You can hear me?!”

She laughed as she sat down, motioning for me to sit across from her. “I got the implant after my first year at Yale. Figured it was time.”

“You sound great,” I told her, taking a seat. Her voice was less slow, and even more confident than it had been those times she had graced me with her voice. Damn, this was gonna be way harder if she broke my heart now.

“You do too,” she smiled.

We stared at each other for a moment, both of us processing the changes. She finally broke the silence. “I texted you. Called you even. You never came to see me.”

“You never came to Duke,” I countered, half-teasing, half curious to see how she’d respond.

“Yeah, I got a little busy. How was Duke? Did you graduate already?”

“Yeah, last week. So, now I’m working in my dad’s shop full-time.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s good. That’s what I wanted. Are you hungry? Should we order? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, food sounds good.”

We ordered and we swapped stories about Duke and Yale. I told her about how great it had been at Duke, while she told me how her time at Yale had been amazing; both of us refusing to admit to the less than wonderful moments of the last few years.

“Nice tattoo,” I commented, when she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Thanks. Yours is nice, too.”

“I have more,” I said, glancing down at the heart decorating my wrist. “So, what was the news anyway?” I asked, finally getting to the hard stuff. “When you texted and called me. Did you find somebody new?” I swallowed hard, the long wondered about question finally hanging in the air between us.

She played with a straw wrapper. “You could say that…” she said coyly.

“Oh,” I said, swallowing again. “That’s great. I’m glad.” I smiled a half-smile. She had done exactly what I told her to do. There was no one to blame but myself.

“He’s hanging out with Mike right now. Did you want to come meet him?”

“I don’t think…” I protested.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re gonna love him, I promise,” she told me. She smiled again and I knew that I’d let this girl take my heart and stomp all over it if it meant I’d see that smile and hear her voice.

“Lead the way,” I gestured. “Oh, you drive now?” I asked as she walked to her brother’s truck. I had been too stuck in my own head to take notice of the cars when I had pulled in earlier.

She nodded. “I can hear now.”

“So, did Mike get a new truck?”

“No, I have my own car. It’s just in the shop,” she lied.

I shook my head, letting her have the lie. I got in my truck and followed her the few blocks to a house I’d never been to before. “Nice place,” I commented as we walked up to the porch.

“Thanks. It’s no apartment at Duke, but it’s exactly what I need. Rent’s a little steep though, but Mike’s staying with me while him and Crystal figure things out.” she said, opening the door.

“No help from that guy of yours?” I asked, trying not to be smug.

“He’s a little on the young side,” she let out a small laugh as she opened the front door.

A small body came hurtling out of the kitchen, slamming his tiny body into Madison’s legs. “Momma!” the boy screeched.

She picked up the boy and put him on her hip. “Judder-bug!” she greeted, kissing the curly blonde locks.

He put his hands on her cheeks, pulling her face to his. When he did, I caught a glimpse of a pair of gold-flecked hazel eyes I’d only seen in the mirror. I quickly put two and two together and did some math in my head. The boy looked to be about three, and I had left Madison not quite four years ago. Although hazel wasn’t a far cry from green, I knew that the kid had my eyes, not hers. I remembered how she responded when I asked if she had met someone. This had been the news she wanted to tell me, I decided. “Who’s your friend, Momma?” he was whispering.

“A very special friend,” she told him. “Can you say hi?”

He looked at me, then buried his face in his mom’s shoulder.

She smiled at me, apologetically. “He can be a little shy.” She set the boy down, “Go find Uncle Mikey,” she told him. We both watched as the boy disappeared down the hall. “Should we talk?” she asked, sitting on the couch and patting for me to sit next to her.

I collapsed next to her. “Shit, Mads… a kid?!”

“I texted and called,” she told me like that was enough of an answer. Her head came to rest on my shoulder for a second before she thought better of it.

“What did you say his name was?” I asked.

“Jude Thomas Irwin.”

“Irwin” I repeated, closing my eyes. “Irwin as in…?”

“As in, he has his dad’s last name.”

“Okay, so I am his…” I couldn’t say the word.

“Where else would he get curly hair and hazel eyes from?”

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me this fact at all during the last four years?” The shock subsided into anger. How could she keep this from me?

“I tried,” she defended. “I texted and called you. You never responded.”

“And what would you have done if I had?”

“Told you to stay in Duke. That I had everything under control, and that it wasn’t your problem.”

“Not my problem?! Mads, you hid the fact that I have a son! I think that makes it my problem, don’t you? God, you know how I feel about this! My biological dad walked out on my mom and me!”

“Look, I’m sorry if you’re mad. But, I know you. You wouldn’t have stayed in Duke if you had known.”

“So, you lied so I would go to Duke?” My words were harsh. Who was she to decide something like that without talking to me about it?

“Technically, I didn’t lie.”

“I have a kid, Mads!”

“I know… Look, I did what I thought was best for us. You left me so you could go to Duke. I wasn’t going to stand in your way.”

I rubbed my eyes and let out a small scream of frustration. “Madison, that wasn’t your decision to make,” I said, fighting to keep my voice level and my words calm. “Do you know what you’ve done? Whatever your intentions, you kept my son from me! You know what being a dad means to me! How could you?”

“Not my decision to make?! You wouldn’t answer the phone, Ashton! Bottom line, you weren’t there. What was I supposed to do?”

“I wasn’t there? Madison, I didn’t know! You didn’t tell me!”

“I tried, Ashton!”

“You should’ve tried harder! You think I wouldn’t have been there if you had told me?”

“I know you would’ve been! And that wasn’t okay with me!”

“Why? What justification do you have for keeping him from me?” I asked, the fight leaving me in my need to know why.

“Okay,” she said, her voice becoming calm like mine. “You had just left, and I don’t hold that against you, I don’t. Then, I was pregnant, and I didn’t know how to tell you. This wasn’t the kind of news you could send through a text. So, I figured I’d reach out to let you know I had news and let you make the decision from there. But all I got was silence from you- both times. Which I don’t hold against you, either. I personally think it was for the best. And he’s always known who you are. I was never going to keep him from you. You hide it well, but I know how much pain you’re in because Jeff is only your stepdad, and that you want to be better than your biological father was to you. I was always going to let you be a dad to Jude. I just needed you to finish Duke first. I didn’t want you to regret not going. I’m sorry. Okay? I am so fucking sorry.”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “God, Mads… What about the possibility of me regretting not being there for you two?”

“You don’t have to forgive me. I only ask that you understand why I did what I did, and don’t let it spoil any relationship you might have with him.”

I kept my eyes closed. I couldn’t blame her for what she had done. She was right, there was no way I would have stayed at Duke if I had known. Because of her lie- or omittance- I had been able to go to Duke and play soccer like I always wanted. I let out a sigh and opened my eyes to look at her. “How old is he?”

“He’s 2. He’ll be 3 in a few weeks. I’m having a birthday party for him. It’s a small thing, but you’re more than welcome to come.”

I nodded. Of course I was going to his birthday. I wasn’t going to miss a single day of his life. “Okay,” I said.

“Okay what?” she asked.

“It’ll take me time to stop being angry. But, I can understand why you did what you did. I can almost forgive you for it. And, I want a relationship with him. Whatever you’re comfortable with at first, but I eventually want some sort of custody. I’m going to be his dad. I’m not missing anymore of his life.”

She nodded. “Of course, Ash. Whatever you want is more than fine with me. Do you want to go meet him?”

“Yeah.”

She led us into the backyard where Mike was standing in front of a small goal. “Kick it!” he was encouraging Jude, who stood a few feet away, with a small soccer ball at his feet. The toddler kicked the ball with his foot, sending the ball skidding towards Mike, who stepped aside to let the ball fall into the goal. “Goal! Jude Irwin with the winning goal! Syracuse wins!” Mike cheered.

“Goal! Go Yrcus!” Jude cheered, throwing his arms up and screaming. “Momma, I made a goal!” he continued to cheer, running up to Madison.

“Good job, Judder-bug! High five!” she said, holding out her hand.

He slapped his small hand against Madison’s. “Yrcus wins!”

She laughed. “Syracuse,” she said slowly, teaching him. “Who did Syracuse beat this time?” she asked Mike.

“Uh… who did we play, Judester?”

“Uke!” Jude told his uncle.

“Duke?” Madison asked. “Aw, the only way Syracuse will ever beat Duke is in this backyard,” she teased her brother.

I laughed. Every game we had played against Syracuse, we had won. But, how did she know that? “Wait, how did you know that?”

“I might have gone to a game… or four…” she admitted.

“Momma loves Uke!” Jude ratted her out. “Huh, Momma?”

“Oh, does she?” I asked him.

“Mhm!” he nodded like a bobblehead. “Dada goes to Uke.”

“He does?”

“Mhm! We watch him play occer.”

“You,” Madison said, scooping up Jude who let out a shrill giggle- an exact copy of my own, I noted with a smile- “are a bad secret keeper!” She flipped him upside down before she flipped him upright, holding him on her hip. God, she looked amazing as a mom.

“You watched my games?” I asked her, feeling all those old feelings come rushing back.

“I might have…” she admitted with a coy smile. “Hey, Judder-bug, did you know that Ash went to Duke?” she asked, turning the direction of the conversation.

His hazel eyes went wide. “You know Dada?!”

Madison whispered something in his ear and his entire face split into a grin. He reached out for me.

I took him in my arms and immediately felt both overjoyed and overwhelmed. “Momma misses you,” he told me.

“I’ve missed her, too,” I told him.

“And, that’s my cue to go,” Mike said, excusing himself. “I’ll probably just crash at Crystal’s, Mads.”

“Okay, bye,” she told her brother.

“Bye, Judester,” he said, kissing Jude’s head. “Good to see ya, Ash.”

“Good to see ya too, man.”

Mike disappeared inside, leaving the three of us alone. “Did you have your nap?” Madison asked her son.

He shook his head, “Nope! No nap!”

“Yes, nap,” she said, going in the house.

I followed, Jude still clinging to my neck. “What about Dada?” he asked.

“Uh…” I stumbled, not knowing what to say.

“He’ll be here when you wake up,” she promised before looking at me. “Right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. I set Jude down, who immediately clung to my leg and wailed. “No!” he scream-cried.

“It’s ok-” I started to tell him, but Madison had already beat me to it.

She crouched down next to him and turned his face towards hers. “Look at me,” she coaxed, softly. “Jude Thomas, look at me. Thank you. I need you to stop. You need a nap. Daddy will be here when you wake up, okay?” As she spoke, Jude slowly stopped wailing. “Now, do you want me to tuck you in?”

He sniffed and nodded, grabbing her hand.

“You’re gonna need to teach me that,” I said, staring at her amazed as she put Jude down and closed his door. How was I mad at her a half hour ago only to find myself falling for her all over again?

She shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

“For you, maybe.”

She smiled. “Um, he’ll be out for at least 2 hours. So, if you had something… You don’t have to stay.”

I looked down at myself. “Uh, yeah, actually. I should clean up. What about…”

“Oh, you can come over whenever you want. I’m not… I just thought that… Sorry.”

“Thought what? That I only want to spend time with him?”

“Maybe…?”

“I’ll come back after I get cleaned up, okay? 45 minutes, tops.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“See you in a bit,” I told her, heading for the door.

I drove to my apartment to shower and change, thinking the whole time about the time I had just spent with Madison. Four years of radio silence and a hidden secret- two, if you included the Cochlear implant- didn’t stop those old feelings I had for her from resurfacing. I drove back to her house, deciding that a relationship with Jude wasn’t enough; I needed one with her too. One that wasn’t strictly a co-parenting one. I needed her like I needed her when we were seventeen and in love; like when we were eighteen and I was too stubborn and hurt to tough out the distance.

I knocked on her door, flowers in one hand, a carton of ice cream in the other. She opened the door and stared at me for a minute, a look in her eye I’d only ever seen whenever we used to have sex. “C’mon in,” she recovered. “Jude’s still asleep.”

“These are for you,” I said, handing her the flowers. “Ice cream’s for later.”

She breathed in the flowers. “Peonies, my favorite. Thank you.”

“Yeah, you’re the only girl who didn’t like roses,” I remembered fondly, following her into the kitchen.

“Always reminded me of fun-”

“Funerals,” I cut her off. “I remember.”

She smiled at me, grabbing a small vase to put the flowers in. “You can put the ice cream in the freezer,” she said, nodding in its direction. “Do you want something to drink?”

I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”

We sat in the living room, unsure of what to say. “It’s been hard,” she finally said, breaking the silence.

“What has?”

“Everything since high school graduation,” she half laughed. “Being away from you was hard. Watching you leave every other weekend was harder. Balancing school, a job, and a baby was hard. Missing you was the hardest, though.”

“But, you did it,” I told her, feeling proud for her. She had done it all, just like she planned, with a baby on her hip.

“I did it,” she smiled in agreement. “How did you react when I called you? Not the text. The phone call.”

I let out my breath in a slow huff. “That one tore me up for a bit because you’ve never called me. Talking always made you tired.”

“It tore me up, too. But I needed to try to contact you again. And I needed to know what you sounded like.”

“Disappointed?”

“No, not at all,” she laughed. “I almost came to Duke. After my Bachelor’s.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“What was I gonna do? Show up on your door with a suitcase and a baby and say ‘Honey we’re home’ and give you a heart attack?”

We both laughed at the absurdity of it all. “It was hard,” she said again. “And I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“How’d you react. I didn’t want you to leave Duke. And then I was scared that you wouldn’t want us. That I blew it by not telling you sooner. That you had found someone else and there wasn’t any room for an ex and a baby in your new life.”

“There was never anyone else. Mads, I didn’t leave for my benefit. I left for yours.”

“Well that was stupid, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I’m still waiting to see how things play out.”

#according to plan #chapter 14 #ashton irwin #5sos #galcal irwin #anybody else crying or is that just me?

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1dffexchange · 5 years

Photo

Making Moments

To: Lisa @tinyfelthat

From: Ally @allywrites

Summary: Jasmine Moore has had a tough year. Her first chance of redemption in 2019 is to attend her cousin’s wedding and make the best of it. She’s determined to make it out alive despite most of the guests knowing the embarrassing truth about her recent breakup - one that nearly ruined any plans of a civil wedding party. Now, with her ex uninvited, she needs to play nice with his replacement - a cocky, charming, and aggravating addition brought in last minute to ensure an equal number of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Making Moments - a one-shot about champagne, smiling through the pain, and debating the true meaning of a quarter-life crisis.

“Another, please,” I asked the bartender, pushing my glass toward his side of the counter.

He gave me a look of commiseration before grabbing a bottle of Bourbon. As it was only four p.m., the bar was virtually empty save for me and the waitstaff setting up for dinner.

I felt pathetic, drinking alone at a hotel bar in the middle of the afternoon on the eve of my cousin’s wedding.

“Cheers,” I said to him lamely, raising my glass before downing the Old Fashioned in two swallows.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly describe this as a cheery sight.”

I flinched at the voice coming from beside me. The intruder pulled out the stool to my right and sat down.

I turned to glare at the man occupying so much space so close to me. His hair was styled neatly on his head, and his eyes looked too cheerful for my liking. I wanted to know how this person felt comfortable enough to walk up to a stranger and make a judgmental comment as a way of greeting.

“Can I help you?” I asked bluntly. If he wasn’t one for making positive first impressions, I felt no need to reciprocate.

“Yes, actually,” he replied, smirking. I rolled my eyes, turning back to the bar, expecting to hear a god-awful pickup line or something as equally cringe-worthy. “You’re going to make us late for our date.”

Admittedly, I hadn’t heard that one before, but I was not impressed. At my silence, he continued.

“Jasmine.”

I turned my head sharply to look at him.

“How do you know my name?”

He smirked, taking my glass out of my hand and putting on the other side of the bar, out of my reach.

“I told you,” he replied. “I’m your date tonight. To Thalia and Niall’s rehearsal and dinner.”

“But I don’t know you,” I said, staring at him, dumbfound.

“I’m the replacement groomsman. For the dickhead that got himself uninvited.”

I paused, trying to process everything. “Replacement groomsman?” I repeated.

“Yeah, Niall was telling me about him the other night. Wouldn’t say all that much but mentioned that he was a snobby sod with his head up his arse.” The man shrugged and my mouth hung open like that of a dead fish. “I never met the guy, but I know you must have to do something outrageously foolish to get uninvited to any event of Niall Horan and Thalia Moore.”

I pressed my lips together, trying to collect my racing thoughts. There was a new groomsman? I supposed it made sense, logically thinking about how much of the wedding and rehearsal procedures required bridesmaids and groomsmen to move in pairs. I couldn’t believe Thalia hadn’t told me though.

Interpreting my silence as invitation to keep rambling, he continued. “Niall couldn’t even kill a spider in uni, and when I went to do it, he’d yell and tell me to ‘let him outside.’ And Niall used to make this god-awful taco casserole for dinner, and Thalia ate it once a week for three months even though she hated it! She didn’t say a word to him about it because she knew it was one of the only meals he knew how to cook.”

In normal circumstances, I wouldn’t hesitate to agree. It was entirely out of character for Thalia and Niall to uninvite a guest to an event of theirs. But I was just trying to digest the fact that Thalia had invited this chatty, boisterous man to accompany me throughout tonight and tomorrow – and hadn’t told me about it.

Meanwhile, this man was continuing to talk my ear off. I turned to him, checking my watch and deciding that it was time to go. When he didn’t pick up on my various cues of being ready for departure, including taking my jacket off the barstool from behind me and standing and slinging my purse over my shoulder, I lost what little patience I had.

“Excuse me,” I interrupted. “One of the very first things you said to me was an insinuation that I would make us late. Yet here you are, chatting my ear off with all of this nonsense. And I don’t even know your name.”

That shut him up. I relaxed my shoulders a bit, grateful for the momentary silence, no matter how brief.

“I’m Harry.” After a moment, he stuck out his hand, and I decided that while my [lack of] manners may not have been my finest attribute, I would never be rude enough to refuse a handshake.

“Jasmine,” I replied, although it was clear he already knew that.

“Nice to meet you.”

I didn’t reply, just tried my best to smile in return. When he remained silent as well, I shrugged my jacket on over my shoulders.

“Well then,” I sighed. “Guess we should be heading to the church.”

He waited patiently as I gathered my things, but the smirk on his face left me remaining uneasy.

“Isn’t it a sin to walk into a church drunk?”

I glared at him. “I’m not drunk,” I argued, but standing up left me feeling a little uneasy on my feet.

I headed toward the lobby, knowing that he would follow behind me. He rushed to stay near.

“How did you know where to find me?” I eventually asked as we walked toward the limousine where I’m sure the bride, groom, and the rest of the bridal party were already waiting.

“Thalia sent me out to hunt down a prickly-looking ginger with tattoos. I saw you at the bar and figured you must be the one.”

I would have made a snarky comment in reply, but the driver had already opened the door, revealing Thalia, Niall, and the eight other members of our party. We were greeted warmly, and I slunk into the vehicle, sliding over to allow Harry some room.

Thalia caught my eye, and her expression was intense. She was trying to read me like a book, and I prayed that my face gave nothing of my internal stress away. Finally, she smiled, reaching over and taking my hand.

I will make it through this weekend, I promised myself. And I will not allow my unhappiness to become a blight in Thalia’s special day.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As soon as my alarm clock went off at five o’clock the following morning, I knew I was not destined to have a good day.

Rubbing my eyes, remnants of last night’s rehearsal dinner makeup smudging on my cheeks, I turned over, harshly tapping the silence alarm button on my phone. I stared blankly at the hotel room around me, trying my best to gather the courage to get my ass out of bed and face the day like an adult. Huffing, I threw back the covers and shoved my feet into my slippers by the bed. I walked over to the small coffee pot by the mini fridge, pouring in water as the shower heated up.

Standing underneath the warm water, I wished that the burden of what the day would bring would wash away like the leftover mascara smudged underneath my eyes.

If he were here, Adam would’ve kissed me good morning before slinking quietly out of the hotel room to join Niall and the other groomsmen.

Stop thinking about him, I chastised myself. He’s not worth it.

It didn’t take me long to get ready, knowing that in a few hours, someone else would be doing my hair and makeup for me. I found a pair of leggings and a cozy sweater, grabbing my robe from the back of the door. I opened the closet to reveal a garment bag and a pair of delicate heels on the floor beneath.

I unzipped the bag a bit, glaring at the tight, black material. I was worried that it wouldn’t fit as well as it did during the initial fitting back in September. I loved Thalia with my whole heart, but a wedding in January sounded like the worst time of year. Not only was the weather usually crappy, but I felt the cushion of some extra pounds after the holidays. Deciding not to risk it, I talked myself out of walking down to the continental breakfast and making a waffle, sticking to just the coffee until I at least was zipped into the dress.

Arms loaded with my dress, shoes, and accessories, I headed downstairs to the conference room my aunt had reserved for the bridal party to get ready.

Despite arriving 10 minutes before the decided time, I was the last to show up. My cousin, Thalia, the beaming bride-to-be, was in a chair having her hair brushed by a stylist, a curling wand heating up off to the side.

“Jazzy!” Thalia called to me. “Good morning!”

I smiled, shutting the door behind me to keep the music coming from a speaker on the wall from bleeding into the quiet hallway. Hanging up my dress on a rack, I walked over to where she was seated. Her skin was glowing, her smile was beautiful, and she looked completely at ease.

“You look so beautiful, Thalia,” I told her, leaning into her outstretched arms.

“I’m not even ready yet!” she laughed.

“Still,” I said. “You’re excited?”

“Oh, Jasmine,” she told me, clutching my hands. “I can’t wait.”

I smiled at her, squeezing her hand, the diamond on her fourth finger glistening in the sunlight coming in from the window. I was sure I didn’t let my face betray me as I thought about a ring that had been on my finger only a month and a half prior – a stunning diamond with a beautiful silver band – but Thalia’s face fell slightly anyway.

“I’m so thankful you’re here. I know this day won’t be easy for you.”

I kept myself composed, setting her hand back down in her lap.

Shrugging, I said, “You’re my best friend. Nothing could keep me away.”

Thankfully, my Aunt Claire chose that moment to beckon the photographer over, inviting her to get shots of Thalia throughout her process of getting ready. I stepped out of the way, eyeing the trays of pastries with a glare before moving safely toward the other side of the room. I wasn’t very familiar with any of the members of the bridal apart from the maid-of-honor, Thalia’s childhood best friend. We had played together at many of Thalia’s birthday parties, had both been invited to the same sleepovers at my Aunt Claire and Uncle Ian’s.

She handed me a mimosa and a coffee as I walked over to greet her.

“Jasmine,” she grinned. “You look beautiful. I love your hairstyle.”

“Thank you, Eva,” I replied, adjusting my hair over my shoulder. “I decided to go with a shorter look.”

“It suits you,” she replied kindly.

Before I could say any more, we were being rushed to our designated chairs to be primped, plucked, and prodded.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Two more mimosas, three complaints from the stylist about what she would do with my short hair, and four near-crises involving the flower delivery, we were finally ready to head over to the chapel. I stood by the window, wrap over my shoulders. Looking at the white snow outside, I knew this draping shawl would do more for fashion than it would for function. I might not even have to worry about surviving so many awkward interactions during the wedding reception if I froze to death during the pictures beforehand. No need to worry about the How are you doings or the Have you spoken with Adam lately? No questions about my quest back into the dating game.

I was debating forgoing the shawl altogether, just for the increased risk of hypothermia, when I saw a flash of white out of the corner of my eye.

I turned, taking in Thalia in all of her glory.

Her dress was beautiful, a simple A-line skirt of chiffon, lace sleeves making the dress look delicate but suitable for winter. Her blonde hair was in a gorgeous braid, her veil framing her face.

“Thalia,” I breathed. “You look gorgeous.”

Taking in my closest friend since birth on one of the happiest days of her life, I couldn’t stop my eyes from stinging.

“Stop it!” she chastised, her own eyes becoming wet. She reached to the side and pulled a wad of tissues from the box. “You’ll ruin your makeup and make me ruin my own.”

I took one from her, dabbing beneath my eyes. “I’m so happy for you,” I told her through my sniffles. “Niall is so great. If you’re in the room, he’s beaming at you. I’ve never seen anyone look so in love.”

I was so happy for my cousin, thinking of the bright future ahead of her. Full of happiness and love and little blonde-haired babies. For the first time in what felt like weeks, I wasn’t thinking about my heartbreak or the way I felt like I was floating aimlessly through life.

But I could tell that Thalia had had some mimosas of her own as she tearfully said, “I’m so sorry about Adam.”

I blinked, immediately sobered. I didn’t want to talk about him. And I wanted people to stop acting like he was dead.

“Thalia-” I said, trying to cut her off.

“But to be honest,” she continued. “I never liked him.” She shook her head. “He couldn’t hold a candle to you. And to see you so upset makes me so sad because you’re so much better than him.”

I inhaled sharply, sniffling. “But I’m not,” I said weakly.

She gripped my shoulder, looking me dead in the eye.

“Yes,” she argued. “You are.” She paused for a moment, as if waiting for the words to sink into my skin. “That’s why I told Niall to ask Harry to be his replacement today.” What little energy I had for a conversation like this immediately disappeared at the mention of his name. “Harry will do right by you today.”

Do right by me? I wanted to repeat. What, were we living in the eighteenth century?

I wasn’t going to argue with her, not on her wedding day. I just gave her an exasperated look at took her arm in mine, leading her toward the doors.

“C’mon, then,” I said, ushering her out. “It’s showtime.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

No matter how many wedding scenes I’d watched in movies, there never seemed to be a perfect way to walk down the aisle as a bridesmaid. It was no different in real life. No one cared about me or any of the other four women. All they wanted was to do was see Thalia in her dress and catch a glimpse of Niall as he took in his bride for the first time on their wedding day.

I paced myself as I strolled as carefully as possible down the long stretch flanked by gardenias, Pachelbel’s Canon in D flowing from the piano and the flute accompaniment.

Niall gave me a friendly wink as he caught my eye, looking dapper in his tuxedo. I let my eyes travel down the row of groomsmen, all looking dashing and prepped to perfection. I paused to take in the man with curly hair three people down from Niall, the mirror position of where I would stand on the other side of Thalia.

Harry stood confidently beside the altar, arms folded in front of him. His dark suit framed his form nicely, his hair styled neatly. He had that ever-present glint in his eye as he watched me walk toward the front of the church.

I felt a brief wave of vertigo that I didn’t think was completely due to the mimosas that morning. I tried my best to hide my slight stumble, but it was clear that Harry had caught it. He pressed his lips together to contain his smile as I walked the last few feet.

Everyone stood as the music changed, signaling the arrival of Thalia on the arm of my Uncle Ian. Already knowing how stunning she looked, I turned away from the vestibule of the church, instead looking to Niall.

Niall’s eyes were filled with such an intense amount of love, lust, and longing that I almost felt the need to look away, as if I were intruding on a private moment instead of taking all of the important elements of the wedding ceremony. Against my will, eyes travelled down the line of men again to settle on Harry, who had already been looking at me.

He didn’t look away when our eyes connected, but I did, immediately turning back to Thalia who had now arrived at the altar and was being given away by her father.

By the end of the ceremony, I was hungry and anxious. From the rehearsal yesterday, I knew that I’d have to walk arm-in-arm out of the church with Harry. Then it was time for pictures… once again, most likely paired with Harry.

I didn’t have the patience required look at his stupid, fluffy hair and stupid shiny eyes for hours on end. From the smug look he gave me when he offered his arm, I knew that he was aware of my overall distaste of being in his presence.

Since he couldn’t talk during our exit, walking next to him down the aisle wasn’t all that bad. The limo ride to the location of the pictures, however, was another thing altogether. Harry had opened a bottle of champagne, ignoring my requests that he not hold the bottle so close to the hem of my dress as he opened it. He brushed off my concern, convinced everything would be fine.

However, just as I anticipated, when the cork flew off the top, bubbles overflowed the rim of the bottle, spilling all over the skirt of my dress, soaking right through to the skin of my legs and feet. It was less than ideal, especially considering the freezing temperatures. Harry tried to apologize profusely but I batted him away, digging for some tissues in my clutch and trying my very best to blot away the liquid, thankful that the dress was black and wouldn’t look stained in the pictures

“Oh fuck,” Harry said. “I am so sorry.”

We had the attention of everyone else in the limo, so I limited my reaction to a non-reply. What seemed like hours later, we finally arrived at the site we would be taking pictures. We were told to wait inside the clubhouse while the photographer set up a few scenes.

I went straight over to the fireplace, hoping the heat would dry the hem and leave me feeling less frozen. I gripped my skirt between my fingers, trying to spread the fabric and expose as much of the wet area to the heat as possible. I could hear a group gathering by the bar behind me, but I stayed focused on my task.

“Jazzy!” A voice came from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, spotting Niall calling out to me, his arm around Thalia. “Be with the people, love.”

Thalia smiled at me, adjusting Niall’s jacket that was draped over her shoulders as I approached. Half of the groomsmen were outside smoking cigars, Harry included, and the other half were in here drinking more beer. I glanced out the window at the large puffs of gray clouds coming from the men. I couldn’t keep the scowl off my face when I thought about standing next to Harry for pictures, his suit reeking of smoke.

Thalia wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “You doing alright, lovey?” Her eyes were on me, and despite the fog of intoxication and the smell of champagne on her breath, I knew she was truly concerned.

I softened, placing a hand on her back. “I’m okay,” I said. “I don’t want you to worry about me. It’s your day.”

I needed to get my act together if Niall and Thalia could tell I was upset. Harry may have thought I was bitchy and bitter, and today I certainly hadn’t been acting my best, but Thalia was my best friend and cousin, and Niall was now family.

“Did something happen?”

I shook my head, thanking any deity above that the photographer chose that moment to call Thalia and Niall outside.

Tail between my legs, I made my way out to the outdoor patio when the photographer called Thalia and Niall outside for pictures. Harry’s eyes were locked on me as soon as he heard me open the door. I needed to clutch the fencing surrounding the brick as I wobbled on my fee. Champagne and an empty stomach did not go hand-in-hand.

At this point, if not for the alcohol, my blood sugar would have probably sent me spiraling into a coma. There’d been no time to squeeze in any snacks between finally getting the dress zipped and heading out to the church.

I shifted my weight as I stood in front of Harry, my feet aching. Couldn’t they have anticipated this long wait between the ceremony and dinner? Thalia and Niall had run off somewhere to frolic through the snow and the growling emitting from my stomach was sounding less like a nagging reminder and more like a beastly threat.

“This is always the worst part of the wedding, innit?” Harry said by way of greeting.

“What’s the worst part?” I asked.

“The ‘hurry up and wait’ of it all,” he continued. “Sit through the ceremony and then be rewarded with a two-hour wait before food.”

“A couple spreads of hors-d’oeuvres would have done a wonder of good,” I agreed wryly, bringing the flute of champagne back up to my lips

I glanced through the windows to the room inside in despair, not a veggie platter or spare cracker in sight. My stomach whined again at the thought.

There was a moment of awkwardness as we formed some sort of connection over our shared dissatisfaction at the extra time before the reception officially began.

“You’re hungry?” he asked, hearing my stomach growl. I watched him as he unbuttoned his coat. “You should’ve just said.”

He reached a hand into the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket, the sound of plastic crinkling as pulled out an item. A small smile on his face as he presented them to me.

“Peanut Butter Ritz?” I asked, eyeing the small pack of cracker sandwiches.

“Want to split them with me?” he asked, long fingers already tearing open the package. I nodded shyly, embarrassed that I’d been so nasty to him and he was still showing me kindness.

“So,” Harry continued once we’d finished our snacks, my stomach briefly satiated although I knew I’d need to find something again soon. “What song is being used for our grand entrance?”

I swallowed hard, nearly choking on the bubbly drink. Weakened with hunger, I had completely forgotten about the entrance each couple of the bridal party was expected to do. We were supposed to dance through or do something equally as embarrassing to a song of our choice. Back when it had been Adam and I, we’d chosen Shape of You by Ed Sheeran. I had no idea if that song was still being played, or if Thalia had changed it sometime between our breakup and now.

“It’s time to line up!” My Aunt Claire’s voice jarred me, and I quickly glanced at Harry. He grabbed the now empty champagne flute out of my hand and set it on the mantle nearby. We all were arranged according to the photographer’s satisfaction.

We were the fourth couple to take pictures, so we had a few spare minutes before having to put on a show for the camera and the rest of the bridal party. Harry was stiff beside me, still clearly as uncomfortable as I was, although for perhaps different reasons. I decided that I owed it to him to explain some of my [irrational] behavior.

“You may or may not have noticed, but I can be a bit headstrong.”

“‘Headstrong?’” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Is that how you describe stubborn, sulky, and overbearing?”

Ignoring him, I continued, “So when I found out that you were Adam’s replacement… I let my lingering upset feelings shadow rational thought. Internally, I think I blamed you for Adam’s absence even though you had nothing to do with it.”

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, and I traced my finger around the outside of my glass.

“The two of you were together for a while then?” he asked quietly.

“Six years,” I told him. I paused, adding, “We were supposed to be getting married in June.”

I felt Harry’s gaze on my face, but I traced a line in the condensation on the outside of my glass. Finally, he spoke, “I’m sorry that happened to you. Six years is a long time.”

I looked up at him. Gone was the mischievous glint in his eye. Instead, there was understanding and sympathy. And, to my relief, no pity. That may have been why I continued.

“He was so successful. We met at university, but he studied business administration and I studied English. I knew that it would be hard post-grad, but a part of me was content keeping my entry-level position and supporting him while we raised a family. I was never hellbent on making a career for myself. I just wanted to be with him.” I took a sip of my water, swallowing before I continued. “But he was working his way up a large company that sells steel. He works with so many confident employees, many of them women. More than you’d expect.”

Harry’s eyes never left mine, even though I had to look away every few seconds because I felt like I might melt under the intensity of his gaze.

“He started having an affair. He had been distant, and one day he was in the shower when I heard his phone vibrate. I happened to glance over at the screen and saw a name. Bridgette. I didn’t recognize it, so I turned into a snoop. His passcode was still his birthday, and I read their text messages. It was pretty clear what was going on after that.”

“The worst part was that he blamed me. I didn’t challenge him, I wasn’t going anywhere in my career, I couldn’t keep up with him, and so on.” I swallowed. “And now I’m floating along aimlessly, my plans completely shattered, living in the middle of an existential crisis.”

Harry’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but I was staring at him closely enough that I caught it. I knew that sharing this was a horrible idea. I had no idea how I was supposed to make a good impression when I was unloading all of this on him.

My mind and mouth couldn’t seem to cooperate, however, because I ended up saying to him, “So now here I am, holding an entry-level position with only a bachelor’s degree in a field that requires at least a masters at twenty-five.” I swallowed, irrational thoughts of impending doom overtaking my mind. “I’m sorry. I think I’m having a quarter-life crisis.”

"Why does everyone call it a quarter-life crisis when they're 25?” Harry asked abruptly. “We're not all going to live to be 100, most people will probably only be like 87. So how about calling it a quarter-century crisis? That's so much more accurate!"

I blinked.

“I’m sorry,” I said blankly. “Was that supposed to be helpful?”

His mouth hung open as what he said finally sunk in. “I… was trying to say something to change the subject but I can see now that it did nothing to help your current situation. I’m sorry.”

“Well,” I continued, trying to move on. “Bottom line, I can be a bitch and I’m sorry. I knew that today wouldn’t be easy for me and I used you to channel some of my frustration and anger, which was very unfair.” Pausing, I looked up at him sincerely. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Forgiven,” he said without missing a beat, extending his hand. “I’ll hope you’ll forgive me for sticking my foot in my mouth several times tonight and being an overall pest.”

“Forgiven,” I repeated, shaking his hand.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As it turns out, Harry wasn’t half bad when I wasn’t going out of my way to find him annoying. Thalia had changed our entrance song to The Macarena, so we already had a choreographed dance to invite the crowd to join in on as we made our way to the head table. While the rest of the guests were occupied watching Niall and Thalia dance their way to their seats, he had snuck off and gotten me a plate of cheese and veggies from some unknown source.

We did a few obligatory dances, which Harry was awful at, but I was laughing so hard throughout them that it was almost possible to forget how miserable I’d been earlier in the day. I could tell that Harry was trying his best to make the night as enjoyable as possible, and I wish that I’d been easier on him before so that we could’ve been having more fun together throughout the rehearsals and picture taking.

By the end of the night, I sat back down at my seat, slumped over the table, exhausted, my high heels kicked off beneath the table. Harry stole the seat beside me, placing a hand on the back of my chair.

“All right?” he asked me.

I nodded, eyes getting heavy. “I’m too tired to party any more. I’m ready to turn in.”

Harry stood, offering me his hand. “I can walk you up to your room.”

Conveniently, the reception was in the hotel where the bridal party rooms were booked. Harry helped me strap my shoes back on before leading me toward the lobby. The elevator ride to our floor was silent, and I took the time to really admire his appearance. His skin was glowing from the exertion on the dance floor and the stress of the day. His tuxedo fit him nicely, tailored to perfection.

I remembered the saying the best way to get over one man is to get under another. I wondered if that were true.

“Harry,” I said. He didn’t reply verbally but rose his eyebrows, silently encouraging me. “Do you want to come to my room?”

He straightened as he took in my words.

“Aren’t you really drunk right now?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “I feel almost completely sober at this point.”

“Then sure,” he said, shrugging, but I could see his hands shake slightly as he gestured for me to exit the elevator before him.

I grabbed my keycard from my clutch, opening the door and throwing it on the side table. I turned around to see him standing there by the door, hesitating.

“Come in,” I said, walking further into the room. “Just let me… freshen up a bit.”

I went into the bathroom, applied more deodorant and brushed my teeth. I grabbed a makeup wipe from beside the sink, wiping away the thick layers that had been applied over twelve hours earlier.

When I reentered the room, Harry was still standing up, reading a flyer left by the housekeeping staff about local sites to visit. I walked up to him, gently taking the paper from his hand and putting it back on the table. I ran my hands along the front of his shirt, underneath his tuxedo jacket, pushing it gently off his shoulders. He shrugged out of it before moving to unbutton his shirt.

So, this is how this sort of thing goes, I thought to myself. We just get right to it?

I bit my lip, shifting my weight on my feet. Harry caught the movement, looking up.

He paused, fingers on the buttons by his wrist. “We can stop right now if you want,” he said quietly. “I’ll find a pay-per-view movie and we can drink more champagne.”

Charmed by his sweet offer, I paused, shaking my head. “No, I want to do this,” I told him. “I’ve just never been with anyone other than Adam.”

He tilted his head to the side, eyes friendly but amused.

“Are you,” he breathed, “nervous?”

When I didn’t reply immediately, he continued.

“Prickly, outspoken, pigheaded Jasmine Moore is nervous?”

I forced my feet to stay rooted to the ground as he slowly moved toward me. He had resumed unbuttoning the buttons by his wrists and slowly shrugged off his shirt. My gaze ran over his tan, muscled arms. I traced tattoos with my eyes, caressed smooth skin with my gaze. Up his arms, across the bit of chest that was exposed above the collar of his undershirt, up that long neck, and into those green eyes, bright even in the low lighting.

His gaze was provocative, not only that of a sexual nature, but I was reminded that before getting swept up in the sight of him wearing almost no shirt, he had been egging me on. His eyes shined with mirth, waiting for a retort. If he was trying to get me angry again, it was working. And I was grateful for it. Anger and impatience gave me confidence. He was throwing me a bone.

“I’m not nervous,” I said, my voice gaining strength. To prove it to him, I reached up and began carefully removing the pins from my hair. He watched my fingers work, following the tendrils until my auburn hair was down and framing my face. Smirking at him, I turned away, pulling my hair over one shoulder and showing him my back.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Unzip my dress for me,” I instructed.

His approach was slow, deliberate. He gently took the small zipper between his fingers, dragging it down my spine until he reached the end, just above my ass.

Before he could do anything further, I turned to face him once again. I stood before him in a black bra and matching pair of Spanx. Not exactly ideal lingerie, but I hadn’t been expecting to take anyone back with me to my hotel room at the end of the night. And anyway, judging by the look on Harry’s face, he wasn’t disappointed.

“You’ve been wearing this all day, have you?” he asked, gesturing to the tight fabric around my stomach and hips. “Best to get it off then?”

To be honest, I had been counting down the moments until I could get this blasted thing off. But Harry was playing, and I wanted to play right back.

“Not so fast,” I told him. “Take off your undershirt and trousers. I want to look at you.”

Amused, Harry waited a moment before reaching behind his head and tugging the collar of his tank top over his head. I watched his abdominal muscles flex as he folded his shirt and carefully placed it on the dresser. Without pause, he then went to remove his watch, biceps flexing with his arms in front of him. Making eye contact with me again, he brought his hands down to his belt buckle, undoing it lazily before unzipping his trousers and letting them drop to the floor, kicking off his shoes and taking off his socks.

And there he stood, just in front of me, in nothing but his boxer briefs, begging to be touched. I walked over to him, placing my hands on his chest. He lowered his face until it was close to mine, our noses brushing. His hot breath on my lips. When I felt him leaning in for a kiss, I took a step back, teasing.

He looked exasperated before he realized what I was doing. I hooked my thumbs into the elastic band at the top of my Spanx, trying my best to shimmy out of the fabric in a sexy way and not an “oh my god get me the fuck out of this” way. Mentally, I was quite closer to the latter.

“Much better,” I couldn’t help but sigh out when the restrictive fabric was pooled at the ground by my feet.

“I have to agree,” he replied, stepping toward me.

Now that our physical barriers were slowly disappearing, my emotional barriers seemed to have become a fortress. Even now, I couldn’t believe I was about to have sex with someone other than Adam. Having had no one but him for six years – or, really, no one but him for all of my twenty-five years – I couldn’t help but feel like this was a betrayal. But then I remembered that he had done exactly this while we were will still dating. While we were engaged. Any ounce of betrayal I felt transformed into dizzying nausea at the thought of someone else seeing him like this – especially when I had been home waiting for him.

Harry’s hand gently reached out to cup my cheek. “You alright?” he asked, his thumb stroking my chin.

I held his wrist in my hand, nodding. “Kiss me.”

His eyes went back and forth between mine and my lips twice before they closed, and his mouth was touching mine. I tilted my head, pressing my lips gently back.

And with that, all thoughts of Adam were extinguished from my mind. The feel of his skin on mine held me prisoner, the taste of his mouth was consuming, and his hands wound in my hair eclipsed almost everything else as our kiss lengthened and our gasps of breath shortened.

He started leading me toward the bed, my feet stumbling in my heels as he gently pushed me backwards. I kicked them off my feet once I was horizontal, the sound of them hitting the floor distracting neither of us, too focused at the task at hand.

My legs bracketed his hips, pulling him closer. His lips trailed down to my abdomen, kissing the skin. I gasped when he went so far as to gently pull the skin just below my navel in between his teeth.

“I wanted you from the moment I first saw you,” he said, voice low and gravelly and deep in his throat. “And then you opened your mouth, venomous sneers on your tongue, and I wanted you even more.”

My heart, already racing, was given a kickstart as heat pulled between my legs.

“That doesn’t make much sense,” I replied, desperate for him to do something else with his mouth as his hands slowly traced the skin of my hips and waist.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed. He reached behind me to unhook my bra, tossing it onto the floor. He stared at my nipples, hard enough to cut glass. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

He took my right breast into his mouth, warm and wet, his tongue deadly. I tangled my hands into his messy hair, stray curls falling in front of his forehead.

“Please,” I gasped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, mouth still at my breast.

“Please do something.”

“I am,” he grunted. “And I will not be rushed.”

All day, it had felt like I had been the one in control. He was walking around eggshells, working to please and impress me any way possible. Now, the dynamic had completely flipped. I felt like begging him to please just fuck me, dignity and pride aside. All it took were a few burning looks and searing kisses and I had transformed into complete putty in front of his eyes.

Mercifully, he stood up, fingers hooking in the sides of my underwear and slowly pulling them down my legs. In other circumstances, I may have been embarrassed at how ready he found me beneath the cotton, but I was drunk, had been stuck next to him nearly all day, staring at his beautiful body and handsome face, and it had been a while since I’d had the opportunity to be intimate with someone.

He looked up at my face briefly before settling on his knees before the bed and putting his mouth on my core. So this was what I had been missing out on for six years.

By the time he decided he was finished (and after I had nearly finished twice). He stood up, walking toward his discarded trousers on the floor. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a condom. I watched him, still naked and spread on the bed as he approached me once more and pulled down on his boxers.

I took him in, naked and hard before me. I made no effort to hide the effect seeing him in all his glory had on me. He was certainly gifted… in all aspects of his anatomy. Judging by the expression on his face, he was pleased with my reaction.

“How do you want it?” he asked me, staring at me lying before him.

I rolled onto my stomach, bending my knees and crossing my ankles behind me. “You choose,” I said coyly.

He chuckled, rounding the bed to the other side before surprising me and lying down on his back. He turned his head to look at me. Sensing my confusion, he said, “What are you waiting for?” He patted his bare thigh, just next to his cock. “Hop on.”

I bit my lip, intrigued. “Really?”

“If you want,” he replied easily. “But if you really were leaving it up to me to choose, this is how I’d do it. Definitely.”

I cocked my head to the side, pursing my lips and pretending to think about it.

“Fine,” I said, feigning resignation. I pushed up until I was on my knees, moving over to him. His hands came to my thighs as I moved to straddle him, steadying me as I adjusted. Reaching between us, I took him in my hand, stroking up and down his length a few times before guiding him to my entrance and slowly sinking down.

Harry’s hands tightened in reaction to the sensation and he let out a low groan. As I began to move on top of him, I grasped the back of his hands, moving them from my thighs to my breasts. He seemed quite pleased with their new position, even sitting up a bit to once again take one in his mouth. I continued to move my hips, tilting my head back as the pressure surmounted and the overwhelming sensation of being stimulated sent me over the edge. I rode it out as best as I could, but Harry gently flipped me back below him, taking over for me.

The effects of my orgasm left me feeling sensitive but having him inside me felt amazing and I never wanted it to stop. Eventually, however, he found his completion as well, his face buried in my neck and a low groan sounding in my ear. I ran my hands through his hair again, my fingers numb. After a few seconds of labored breathing, he rolled off me, disposing of the condom and settling on his back.

I felt his gaze on me and I eventually turned to look over at him.

“So?” he asked. “Was it a one-night-stand to remember?”

I laughed out loud, so hard that I even snorted. Harry started chuckling along with me.

Men, I thought to myself. Always so insecure in the bedroom.

“Yes,” I replied eventually, still giggling. “You did a fine job.”

He rolled his eyes, turning on his side after shutting off the lamp.

“Happy to be of service,” he said sardonically. “You didn’t do so bad yourself.”

It would certainly be a night I’d always remember, and not just because Thalia had gotten married. I’d allowed myself to loosen up a bit, and accepted the fact that life wasn’t always planned out. Sometimes it was better to live in the moment and make it count.

#1dff #exchanges

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cheeringsloth89 · 5 years

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20 Things About Me

1. I share a name with two of my cousins on the same side of my family.

2. I could have been Autum Dawn. Thank you mom for vetoing that one, really though, thank you, thank you, thank you!

3. I want to be a mom some day. Despite hearing some interesting and scary stories about pregnancy I still want to experience the miracle myself. Pain and all.

4. I will not eat seafood at all, except for the little bit of crab in rangoons if it’s even in there and not imitation. I also will not eat grapefruits, honey dew melon, or mango among some other things. I can be a bit of a picky eater but I would say I’m not too picky.

5. If I’m needing some comfort food I will make spaghetti, put cold Dorothy Lynch on it and parmesan cheese and eat it. Yes, I know it’s weird but it is so so good and now I want some.

6.Peanut Butter pickle sandwhiches are actually really good if you like pickles and peanut butter separately you should try them together. Seriously, don’t knock it until you try it. It’s another one of my weird comfort foods.

7. If I could still dress up and go to prom I totally would. I love wearing frilly dresses and being a girly girl but I’m also down for wearing sweats and a tee or hoodie.

8. I have five aunts and five uncles plus countless other friends who’ve become family who I have called aunt or uncle over the years.

9. I’m loving the sunflower and red roses combination. Growing up my mom and one of her friends redid the kitchen to green and yellow with a sunflower border and decor. I have such fond memories, so I’m a little attached to sunflowers.

10. I cannot bring myself to watch horror movies by myself. Even if I watch them with someone I think about them for days and I’m constantly looking over my shoulder. They make me a little paranoid so I generally just avoid them. Hahaha, yeeeeaaaaah.....

11. I have had both dogs and cats. Buddy, Jigsy, Abby, Cubby, Nevaeh, and Rowan for doggos. Pia, Boots, Scamper, Kit Kat, Skye, Itty Bitty, Raleigh, and Riggs for kitties. Steal my name ideas if you’d like, I don’t mind.

12. I wish I could dance and sing better. I just cannot get the hang of dancing! It’s so much fun though.

13. I have watched This Is Us on Hulu and I cannot wait for the new season to come out! Gah! It’s crazy to me how stories can draw a person in so well! We are so close to the new season: September 24, 2019!

14. I listen to a lot of different genres of music, some older and some newer and some from in between!

15. Poems written by me are here: https://allpoetry.com/RenewedSoul93

16. I used to twirl my hair around my finger when going to sleep at night. I would twirl until it got caught around my finger and then I would just pull and in doing so I created a bald spot that has never grown hair back in and probably never will.

17. I like tattoos but I have only 1 tattoo that is my dad’s signature from a card he and my mom gave me. It’s on my wrist. I plan on getting more tattoos at some point.

18. I was part of the 2nd largest tornado in the history of the United States. I was 10 at the time and we had just started summer break. The Hallam tornado happened on May 22, 2004 and was 2.5 miles wide. The tornado spanned across 5 Nebraskan counties, with winds reaching speeds of 200 MPH.

19. I want to travel and have even more adventures in my life than what I have already had.

20. I am trying to grow in my writing experience and some day I would like to write a book. I love prompts.

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searchforthescars · 6 years

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Litany - 2/?

Hey it’s me, back at it again.

Shoutout to @bombshellsandbluebells for everything. Y’all already know she’s a rockstar.

Also, so you know, I do read all your tags on my fics when you reblog them and I turn into the human ‘!!!!!’ at them. So thank you <3

So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog of non-definitive acts, something other than the desperation. Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party. Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

Then

The con was perfect.

She revels in it as she leaves the club. She’s good at faking, good at weaving clever lies and pretend tears. She can bend anyone to her will, and it feels so damn good.

“Em!” her brother waves to her, weaving through the crowd. He’s been drinking; the color is high in his cheeks, and his eyes are just unfocused enough to make him sway on his feet. “How’d it go?”

She grins, high on success, cocky in her satisfaction. “Perfectly.” Then, with a satisfied grin, “You’re welcome.”

His eyes smile at her, catch on something over her shoulder, and his face falls. “Shit, Em, we have to go.”

She turns on her heel, looking behind her, trying to catch sight of the thing terrifying enough to horrify her brother. “Why?”

When she looks back, Otan is gone.

Emori is a horrible person.

She already knows this, but she reminds herself as she looks in the mirror, the glass still foggy from her shower.

When she had heard John screaming through the walls last night, her first instinct was to yell “shut up!” and go back to sleep. But she wasn’t in prison anymore, and John was shouting like someone was coming for his blood. Still, she hesitated to get up and save him from the horrors in his head.

So yes. A horrible person. [Read more on Ao3]

She wonders what came over her - why she followed him outside last night. Then she wonders why he was screaming, what is following him so closely that he never has any peace. It’s not any of her business, it really isn’t, but the broken thing inside him is clawing its way out, and she’s always been a lover of broken things.

She has three classes today, back-to-back, starting at noon. She waited to get up until she heard Raven, Lexa, Octavia and the boys leave. It’s just her and John now.

The thought should terrify her. Instead, she feels only a flutter of anxiety, one she doesn’t plan on examining the cause of just yet.

She dries off, gets dressed and goes downstairs, her wet hair slapping against her leather jacket, which is basically the nicest thing she owns aside from her knife set.

“Coffee?” John asks without turning around, sliding her a mug. She takes it in her good hand, feels the warmth of the ceramic, sips at it, and grimaces at the taste.

“It’s black.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Cures exhaustion.”

She downs it in mere minutes. Her stomach rumbles but she doesn’t dare go through the fridge. She hasn’t gone grocery shopping yet, and nothing in there is hers. She hasn’t even opened up a bank account, and the $50 sewn into the lining of her backpack is going to disappear faster than she would like.

She doesn’t need to eat - at least, not yet. She needs a job. She needs some sleep. She needs to pretend the last five years were nothing. Not necessarily in that order.

“Do you think I should get my tattoo removed?” she asks John suddenly, breaking the stillness of the kitchen. Anyone else and she’d be shrinking in her seat right now, but he’s different. She senses something in him, a small thing, like a brief flame - something that shivers and aches to be wanted even as he pushes all hope of that away.

They’re one and the same, she supposes - both alike in their hatred and want of the world.

“Which one? The one on your face?” A grimace of guilt shivers over his expression. She wonders why.

“Yeah.” She taps her left hand against her knee. The fingers twitch, sweat in her wrap. She doesn’t take it off. “It’ll keep me from getting a job, right?”

John shrugs, an easy thing. The slim lines of his shoulders are appealing. When he turns his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye, she sees his sharp cheekbones and dry lips. I’d like to bite those lips, she thinks, and then wants to thump her head against the counter in frustration.

“No,” he answers. “Screw them. Cover it up with makeup if you want to, but don’t take it off.”

He says it forcefully, as if he’s pushing words from his lungs with great effort - as if it costs himself something to give them up. She watches him, wary, but he says no more.

“All right then,” she says.

An endless silence stretches before them. His phone vibrates on the kitchen counter. He looks at it and gives a small sound of disgust. She peers at it just as it starts ringing.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” she asks.

“No.” He swears under his breath, then swipes the phone open. “Leave me alone,” he growls, then hangs up.

Emori slips from the stool, reaching for her backpack. She doesn’t look up, and she doesn’t look back.

Classes are blissfully mundane, a departure from crowded prison computer labs, every due date a fight to the finish. She might be “street trash,” as her old foster family reminded her, but she was - is - smart.

There’s a nontraditional student in her beginner’s public health class. Her name is Anya, and Emori likes her instantly. There’s something about her sharp tongue, her harsh tone and her no-nonsense approach to the system’s failings that appeals to Emori.

She rips the lining of her backpack to get to her money, then goes to the small grocery store near the school. She buys cereal, coffee, milk, bread and ham. It costs her fifteen dollars. She also pockets a Swiss Army knife and two chocolate bars. She doesn’t pay for those.

There’s a strange ache settling in her, a longing of sorts - a sadness rising up to choke her. She’s afraid, she thinks, and nervous. What is she doing here? What is she trying to prove? She’s stupid and small and, shit , what if she had been caught stealing. She would have been sent back for sure.

She feels herself shiver in the September heat. She can’t go back. Won’t. She grits her teeth, bares them, frightens a pigeon cooing at the street corner.

“Hey! Emori!” It’s Octavia, standing on that same street corner, books cradled in her arms, her brother at her side. She looks happy, content and safe. It makes Emori want to scream, but she bites her tonge and molds her lips into a smile. She seethes on the inside even as she, but on the inside, she’s seething. She’s a closed book, a ghost in a house of self-made pain. She is nothing if not a con artist. Her ability to fool others with her bravado, sharp smiles and pretty tongue is nothing new.

She watches herself, as if from a distance, greet the younger girl and nod at her brother. She feels relief when he doesn’t nod back.

“How were classes?” Bellamy is asking both of them. Emori lets Octavia talk. She watches herself pay attention, kick a rock off the sidewalk. Octavia is talking about chemistry. Emori is thinking about the feeling of a swing set chain, cold against her forehead. She’s thinking about her naked hand, John’s fingers, his claim that it is “badass” to be deformed and unwanted.

“Mine were okay,” she answers on autopilot when the siblings turn to look at her. They’re so alike with their angular jaws, harsh noses and lips set automatically into fine lines. Their skin is nothing alike, nor is their hair, but if you saw them for half a second, you would know they belonged to each other.

She and Otan never shared that. They were asymmetrical in all the wrong ways.

Bellamy holds out a hand. “May I? I’m going to the house anyway.”

He wants to carry her bag of groceries. What a gentleman, she thinks wryly. She hands it over. The knife and chocolate in her pocket are heavy. The chocolate is probably melting. She takes it from her jacket and tucks it in with the milk to keep it cold.

“Why are you wearing a jacket?” Octavia asks bluntly. “It’s, like, a hundred degrees out.”

“It’s only 87,” Bellamy corrects mildly, but he’s wondering too.

Emori shrugs. “Thought the classrooms might be cold.” The lie is good.

She smiles to herself. Of course it’s good. It’s her.

John has paper taped to his walls.

She didn’t see that last night. She only saw him, his flailing limbs, his contorted body and all the ways his face screamed for help. When she walks past, it flaps in the breeze from the open window. He’s smoking. A bottle of beer sits on the floor.

“Hey stranger.” She taps on the doorframe. “Care for a bite?”

He looks confused until she tosses him a chocolate bar. “Doesn’t chocolate go with wine?” he asks, bemused, tentative.

“Wine’s too bougie for us,” she replies, laughing slightly. “Can I come in?”

He blinks at her. His eyes are blue, rimmed with a dark edge. Beautiful. So beautiful. “Sure.”

She sits on the floor with him. She takes off her jacket, watches his eyes follow her arms, the jut of her collarbone under her v-neck. Chills run down her spine, but in a good way.

He bites into the chocolate, eyes on the wall ahead of them. The paper on the walls are pages from books. From here, she can read some of it, but not all. Lines jump out at her, lines he has underlined, highlighted, destroyed by circling with a harsh black pen.

I’m sorry I came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

Poor sad thing. Is that him? Someone else? Who hurt him? Why is she here, sitting on his floor, sitting beside this boy who locks his bedroom door at night, but leaves it open in the morning? Why is she here, in the dust, looking out at an endless sky, a college town, the endless possibilities that belong to everyone but her?

“You ever going to tell me what you were in for?”

It takes a moment for her to realize he’s talking about prison. “You’ll have to earn that,” she replies. A smirk, a grin, and he’s blushing, eyes cast down, beautiful lips spread in an almost-smile.

“How do I do that?”

She hums, reaches for his bottle. “Answer for answer.” She takes a swig, hands it back to him. “Who was calling you this morning.”

“Someone I wish I had never met.” A sip, a sidelong look. “Why were you arrested?”

“I was careless. I got caught.” A bite of chocolate, sugar sliding down her throat. Her leg itches. She unties her boots. “What did you dream about last night?”

His eyes darken. “Not being able to say no.” He stiffens, gets to his feet. She scrambles up, and his body shifts to accommodate her invasion into his space. They stand before one another, nearly head-to-chin, arms-to-hands. He takes her left one in his and runs his hand over the cloth. “Why do you hate this so much?”

She’s breathing hard. He is too. He licks his lips, and she feels a shock in her veins. “I- it’s-”

Fuck. The best lies hold truths. So where is her lie? Where is the only thing she has to fall back on?

She looks at his face, eyes searching hers, wide-set over a long nose. “It’s the worst thing about me.” Honest enough to hurt her.

Bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

He scoffs. “I doubt that.” He turns away. The game is over, and she is standing there, vulnerable, in the center of a room that isn’t hers, a house that isn’t hers, a life that isn’t hers.

“It’s a reminder,” she starts, and she’s whispering. Why is she whispering? “It’s a reminder-” she starts again, louder this time, “that I am nothing. That I will always be nothing. That I am erasable and alone.”

You poor sad thing.

John turns. “Emori.” His voice cracks on the second syllable. “You… fuck. ”

She flinches. On the inside, a knife is connecting with her cheek; the club’s music hammers in time with her heart; her brother is on the other side of bulletproof glass, but he is not himself.

“You are not nothing,” John whispers vehemently, desperately, surging forward to grab hold of her bad hand. “You’re not . Don’t ever say that.”

She looks at his hand on hers. Her eyes fill with tears. Her shoulders tremble once, twice, her hand twitches, and then he’s lurching backward as if she’s slapped him.

“I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry- I’ll-”

“Don’t be.” She reaches into her pocket, wraps her hand around the cold pocketknife. “I...I’ll go.”

He nods, turns away, reaches for the empty beer bottle. She closes the door behind her, hears a loud epithet and breaking glass. The bottle wasn’t meant for her, but the shards on the other side of the wall cut her all the same.

She goes outside after dinner, and sees Jasper lying in the grass.

“You okay?” she asks. He turns his head, and she sees tears on his cheeks. “Shit, what’s wrong?”

He laughs, ugly and broken. The cheerful boy she met last night is peeling off his mask. “Life fucking sucks, that’s what.”

“Care to elaborate?” It’s what one of her professors says. She likes it, likes the way she coaxes ideas out without making them obvious, without making a wrong answer shameful.

“Oh, right,” he laughs again. Someone so young shouldn’t sound so bitter. “You weren’t here.” He pats the grass beside his leg, and she sits. “I had this girlfriend, Maya. But it wasn’t some stupid high-school romance where you get one another off once in a while and kiss under the bleachers.” He sniffs. “It was real. She was real. Real and beautiful and funny. She liked art. Really depressing art, which was fucking hilarious because she was so happy and innocent.”

Emori sits, plucking at the glass with her bad hand, listening to Jasper as he spills his guts, purging himself of a story she understood, the bloody truth of an accident and a bad surgery and a young boy having to watch the girl he loved waste away to nothing.

Bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

“That sucks,” she says when he’s finished.

“Yeah.” He sits up, groans, rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve been a shitty friend to Monty. I was horrible to him; hell, I tried to kill myself last year, and I don’t think he’s gotten over it.”

“You two are like brothers,” she reasons quietly. “That kind of thing doesn’t go away overnight.”

“Am I ever going to be okay?” he asks, quietly vulnerable. A light on the front porch switches on. When she looks over her shoulder, John is leaning against the railing, another cigarette in hand, close enough to hear Jasper’s question and her answer.

“I think,” she starts slowly, “I think your ‘okay’ has to change. You’ll always want her. You’ll always miss her. But I-” I have to believe it stops hurting after a while. “I think you’ll feel better the longer you live.”

She hears John shift. She isn’t sure if what she said was a lie or the truth. She’s prepared to believe it’s both.

“Have you ever lost someone?” he asks.

The pain, a dull and rusty knife, plunges into her heart. “Yes,” she answers quickly, not thinking, not feeling. She had her time of mourning in a prison cell.

“How did you deal with it?”

She smirks, remembering. John lights a second cigarette. “I started a yard fight in prison.”

Jasper laughs, nods in appreciation or respect. “Did you win?”

She nods. “They said it was too close to tell. But I won.”

They sit in silence for a while, near the tree full of screaming crickets, the abandoned bird’s nest. John goes inside, up to his room. Raven is talking on the phone. A tall girl with long messy hair - Luna, she learns - sits on the railing of the back deck and looks up at the sky. Bellamy sits beside her and they talk. Monty brings Jasper inside. A car rolls past the house. Emori loses herself in the press and slide of the world turning, the rise and fall of her own chest. She slips away into a dazed numbness, a dark place where the world is allowed to happen to her.

“Come inside.” It’s John, back again. It’s dark now. When did it get so late? She hasn’t seen a car in hours. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

She’s about to say something when a car pulls in, tires crunching in the gravel driveway. She turns, squints into the headlights. Beside her, John freezes. He looks like a cornered animal, like a hunted man.

“John.” The windows roll down, but the headlights stay on. The engine turns off. A girl stands half in, half out of the driver’s side. Black hair, tight jacket, plump cheeks, mean eyes. Emori wants to sneer at her just on principle. “You’re ignoring my calls.”

John’s face is the picture of terror. Above their heads, Octavia’s light flickers on. Emori hears a window slam shut, Jasper and Monty’s shouting, Raven’s swearing.

“Get the hell off my property, Ontari,” Raven snarls, banging the screen door open. John flinches. He’s white-knuckling the porch railing.

John starts to move, striding off the porch in swift steps, pushing past Raven and shoving the girl against her car, his hand around her neck.

“Murphy!” Bellamy shouts. Emori scrambles to her feet.

“Not so fun when it’s you, huh?” John growls in Ontari’s ear. “Leave me the fuck alone. I’m done with you, I’m done with your bullshit, I’m done .” He shoves her again. Her head thumps against the car. “Get out and never come back.”

Emori finally moves. “Let go of her, John,” she says, tugging at his arm. “Let go, it’s not worth it. Let go.”

He does. He reaches for her, hands grasping, shaking, fisting in her shirt, closing around her wrapped hand. Ontari glares at Emori, and she feels her blood boil.

How dare you look at me? she wants to ask. How dare you hurt him?

“Is he your bitch now?” Ontari’s addressing her. Emori sees red.

“Fuck off,” Emori spits, turning away, and then Ontari’s hand is on her arm, twisting Emori back around and spitting in her face.

Emori stands there, saliva running down her cheek, hand clenched into a fist, breath coming sharp.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” John shouts, lunging for Ontari, prying her hand from Emori’s arm. “Get the fuck away from her, you sick-”

“Murphy!” It’s Bellamy, all deep voice and righteous anger. “Enough!” He jogs down the stairs and separates the two of them, all but shoving Ontari back into her car. “Don’t come here again,” he tells her, bodily hauling John up the porch steps.

Emori watches Ontari’s tires spin, scattering gravel and grass. Her spit is warm on her cheek. She wipes it away with the wrap on her hand.

“Are you calm?” Bellamy is asking John when she approaches the steps. John looks up at her, eyes unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice sounds broken.

You poor sad thing.

“What happened between you two?” she asks. Bellamy tenses. Raven moves aside so Emori can sit beside John. Octavia, Jasper and Monty are at the front window, peeking from around the curtains, eyes wide.

“You don’t have to say anything, Murphy,” Raven says. It’s a lawyer’s warning. You don’t have to incriminate yourself. You don’t have to lie. You don’t have to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but.

John shakes his head. “We dated until the middle of last year.” Bellamy bows his head, as if he’s resigned to the story. “It...it wasn’t good. Healthy. Whatever.”

He looks up, turns to Raven, then Bellamy. “You know the story already.”

It’s a hint to leave. They take it, walking backwards into the house, closing the door softly.

When they’re alone again, John sighs. “She cut me off from them. I thought she was just jealous. I didn’t mind. But then it got worse; she started-” he clears his throat. “I said no. But that didn’t matter.”

Emori knows what he’s alluding to. Her heart hurts.

“I figured, what’s the problem? My mom was shit, so this was fine. Nothing new. And at least I had someone.”

“Someone loving you their way is better than being alone,” she murmurs. She understands.

He looks at her. The tears in his eyes scare her. “Raven and Bellamy helped me get out. I started living here and it was okay. I’m still...I’m still dealing with it though.” He laughs. It’s ugly. “Which is to say, I’m not really dealing with it.”

He pulls down the collar of his shirt, shows her the ugly scars around his neck. She touches them softly, with cold fingers. He shivers.

Bruised and ruined. She feels sick. Bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

“I’m sorry for what she did to you,” she whispers.

He sniffs. “It’s over now.”

“Is it?”

He laughs. “Shit. I forgot.” She doesn’t know what he means. His glassy eyes say that he doesn’t either. “No, it’s not, I guess.”

They sit there in silence. It might be her imagination, but the tension is bleeding from his shoulders. He leaves his shirt askew. Every time she sees the scars, she is angry.

“I hope it stops hurting,” she whispers.

“It does. Sometimes.” He reaches for her. She stays deathly still while he reaches out, touches her hair, her cheek that’s still sticky with spit. “I wish…” he shakes his head. “I felt guilty talking to you. As if she would be angry. As if she still matters.”

“Why me?” she asks. “You talk to Raven and Octavia all the time.”

“They-” he sighs, frustrated, out of words. “They’re not like you. They’re not… They don’t understand. You do.” He huffs out a laugh. “I don’t know how, but you do.”

It’s enough. More than enough, actually. She can feel herself smiling, glowing like the fireflies flashing in the tree branches above them.

“I’d like to take you out,” he says softly. She blinks in surprise, shifts when he turns, reaches for her hand. “I can’t promise I won’t be a shitty boyfriend. Hell, I’m not asking to be your boyfriend. I’m just asking for a date.”

It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “Okay.” She nods, smiles when he smiles.

“Okay?” He sounds shocked. She doesn’t blame him; she is too. She barely knows the guy. But she knows enough. She knows about his nightmares. She knows his laugh, his little smiles, his love of chocolate, his hatred of his own reflection.

She’s seen enough. Enough to say yes. Enough to pretend she has a conscience.

She takes his hand, leads him back to the house. “Okay.”

#litany fic #bombshellsandbluebells #dailymemori #memorifics #maskingtapepoetree #murphystartedthefire #lindseysfandoms #lord help me im back on my BS

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openanonymity · 6 years

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Exercise, TV, New Year

As the year comes to an end, there are some thoughts that run through my head. We can start with how grateful I am that the world didn’t fully fall apart. I hate the current administration and hope that the tide turns soon. This year I came out as bi to my partner, my friends, and some of my family in person and through social media. I never really thought much about an identity of my sexuality, but bisexual is right. I find women and men attractive (but there’s more to it than that), and that’s how I am, there’s no changing that. I’ve become more vocal and interested in social and political issues. I feel like if we don’t take the time to sit down, research the current issues tearing apart this country and the world, and come up with a solution, we will see more bad than good happen as time passes on. I’ve been blogging more about politics, television, sexuality, working out, and other topics as well. I feel like if I can get this out in the open, someone might read my words and be like “Interesting points!” and such.

It’s been a while since I posted about what I’ve been watching. I think I had mentioned my dislike of the midseason finale of TWD. I’ve been kind of slacking on finishing up Vikings, Punisher, and The Gifted. I think I’m at the halfway point with Punisher, as I am with season four part two of Vikings. I started episode 10 of The Gifted. I like where the show is going, and can’t wait to find a way to watch Legion, another X-Men series I saw a few episodes of, but wished I could see the whole season. Someday I will. I think there were a couple others we breezed through the past couple weeks- Paranoid, Glitch season two, and Peaky Blinders season four. Paranoid was interesting. It’s a British crime drama where the crime involves a pharmaceutical company from Germany. I won’t say any more than that, but I really enjoyed it. Glitch season two was interesting, as we find out there is a more spiritual/extra-terrestrial reason as to why specific people were brought back to life from the dead. We haven’t finished season four of Peaky Blinders, but I was stunned to see that Adrien Brody and Aidan Gillen (Littlefinger, GoT) were in this season, as well as bringing back Tom Hardy (I love me some Tom Hardy). I won’t give away much, but the Mafia is involved in this season, and they’re looking to take out the Shelby family. Just one more episode of that season left. I need to rewatch from the beginning though, as I can’t remember certain points in the series. Black Mirror season four came out today on Netflix, which might be what we watch the minute we finish the last episode of Peaky Blinders. I feel like while I’ve watched the past three seasons, I may have to rewatch seasons two and three. The Doctor Who Christmas Special was wonderful. It had the feel of the 50th anniversary special that came out, where the current Doctor runs into his first incarnation. Peter Capaldi’s final scene was fantastic- such a great speech he gave, eventually letting go of the Doctor, and then we get our first glimpse of Jodie Whittaker! I really look forward to the next season of that, but it won’t be until late 2018.

I’ve been busting my ass in the gym these past two weeks. Actually, I’ve been busting my ass in the gym since September, but I’ve been going more days of the week this month. I’ve been trying to settle into a routine, but my ADHD brain keeps trying to bring my focus elsewhere, like “bicep curls next” when I’ve been doing leg exercises, or squats and lunges when I’ve been doing shoulder and arm exercises. I’ve decided to cut cardio down to five minutes at the beginning of the workout, probably the only constant in my routine. That can be part of my plans for starting off the new year right- get a structured workout routine going, and max my workouts to Monday through Friday instead of four days a week. I’m thinking of increasing the weight on a few of the exercises I do as well. One thing I’ve started doing differently this month is incorporating stretching after my workouts. I do a quick stretching before my workout, but I have been doing more leg stretching after the workout. I feel like it helps with reducing the soreness in my muscles, stretches out my hamstrings, and helps with flexibility. I’ve been doing one like a sit and reach, where I reach for the sides of my feet, fingers wrapped around the soles, and I move my feet like as though I was on my tiptoes. My face can almost touch my knees. Also, I have almost reached the point where I can do a split. That’s been something I’ve always wished I could do, but never had the flexibility to do so. My legs would always cramp up, now they don’t do it as much when I attempt, and I’m getting closer.

As the new year approaches, I hope that everyone handles NYE responsibly- no drunk driving, don’t overdo it, and make sure you have money for an Uber. Some cities and towns have either fire or police departments offering rides home to eliminate the chances of drunk driving and fatalities. Play it safe, this is your only life.

I have always tried a hand at resolutions every year, but the past few years, I’ve called them improvements, goals, changes for the better, etc. What do I plan on doing for 2018? For one thing, I have two loans on my 401k that have been eating away at my paycheck each pay period. I would like to get those paid off as quickly as possible. I’ve already moved in with S, and we rent a house together (a huge upgrade from the previous place), so I’m not planning on moving anywhere. That was always on my goals list. Pushing myself harder to find a better job as well as closer to home, that’s one that has always been on my list. Every year I hope to win the lottery, not exactly a realistic goal, but if I do manage to win, I’ll be quitting at least the 9-5 and commit to being like a house husband, or house boy, or whatever the term is. I plan on getting at least one or two new tattoos this year. S and I will be getting one together at some point, but I have a handful of ideas from which I’d like to choose and get done at some point. With my current workout routine, my body is in better shape, and this gives me more possibilities on where to get them. I got my nipples pierced this year, they’re still healing, but at some point next year they’ll be fully healed, and I plan on getting more jewelry. Aside from those, a few other goals are to become more politically and socially active. I would like to get involved with a local LGBT organization, and maybe do more for the community. I just wish I had more time to contribute to causes in which I believe. I’m sure I’ll find the time though.

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frostmarris · 7 years

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For the inheritance thing I would love to read #6 with literally anyone

6. “you died and left me to repay a bunch of really weird IOUs”

sorry for the wait anon! enjoy some hidasaku!!

EDIT: here’s [ Part Two ] !

The Fine Print - Inheritance

By no means did Sakura feel obligatedto repay the extensive list of bizarre IOU’s her great-great uncle had left her- all meticulously detailed and listed in a journal that Sakura had mistakenfor a cookbook when she’d been going through the old coot’s attic - but, if shewanted to get rid of that damned rune burned onto her palm and the demonhaunting her apartment, it looked like she was shit out of luck until shefinished repaying his debts.

Okay, technically the list hadn’t been explicitly left for her. When Uncle Maseo had passed peacefully inhis sleep earlier that week, her parents had been alerted of what he’d writtenin his ‘will’.

“I plan on outliving everyonebut if I happen to kick the bucket early, tell whoever’s left of blood relationthat they can have what they want out of all my worldly possessions. Except mystuffed rat, the one with the super glued googly eyes. I better be buried withthat or I’m coming back.”

Uncle Maseo had always been an… eccentric fellow. And Sakura hadalways suspected that he’d dabbled a little in black magic but this was ridiculous.

The moment she’d opened that damned book, picking through thedusty, forgotten contents of his attic for somethingworth keeping while she helped clean up, there’d been a flash of light and abrief message on the front page, which appeared just long enough for her totake note of in her sudden stupor.

“This shit’s your problemnow, have fun.”

And then she’d felt a burning sensation in her palm, shrieking inpanic as an odd symbol appeared on her skin. A crack of thunder, the painstopping just as quickly as it had begun, and then an eerie calmness in theair. The message was gone but the rune refused to leave, now looking more likesomeone had drawn on her palm with a permanent marker.

She’d panicked a bit at the discovery, rubbing her hand againsther pants vigorously, before turning her attention to the book in her hand. Sakurahad quickly flipped through the journal, expression turning into one ofconfusion as she read.

· September 12,1945 – Ken Ito: $35 and a box turtle.

· August 5, 1942 –Jeremy Smith: One jar of strawberry jam and 12 pounds of sugar.

· January ???,1956 – Madame Babineaux: Lock of fox fur, cut with silver scissors and wrappedin velvet.

· May 24, 2001 -Old Lady With Mulberry-Wood Cane, Met in the Park: Vial of virgin blood and 12new pennies. (Note: Do NOT use human blood, the old hag never specified thesource anyways.)

· October 13, 1975– Mr. and Mrs. Shuzo Gato: One peach tree sapling.

· July ???, ??? – FÖRSTNER, that jackass: Claims I owe him two new shirts and bride, willaccept a gecko and AT LEAST $20.

· April 18, 2007 -Rebecca Ohayashi: Two coconuts and an iguana.

And the list went on, each item more obscure and strange than thelast. The dates were out of order, the names unfamiliar, and the footnotes wereof no help. Through a few extra notes, she at least managed to figure out thatthe lists were of things Uncle Maseo owed,rather than received.

Some were already crossed out and while that might have beencomforting in theory, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know how he had managedto get ahold of items like “a human kidney” and, unrelated, “threeindex fingers.”

Scratching at her palm, Sakura had shoved the journal back intothe dusty box in the attic and made a hasty retreat. There was no telling whatother creepy things were lurking in the old man’s house and she wasn’t too inclinedto find out. And like hell she waskeeping that weird, probably cursed journal.

Three hours later found her back at her apartment, fresh out of ashower and rubbing hand sanitizer onto that weird symbol still on her palm tono avail. Dressed in pajamas, phone in the crook of her arm, and her hairbundled up in a towel, Sakura made her way into her living room, frustrated tono end but hoping that a movie might calm her down.

Only, she quickly became aware that she wasn’t alone.

Sakura paused in the entryway to her living room, balking at thesight of an unfamiliar man sitting on her couch, all casual and relaxed - as ifhe belonged there.

Silver hair, magenta eyes, pitch black skin covered in bone-whiteskeleton-like tattoos, twisted, ash-greyhorns jutting out of his skull and curving like a ram’s -

And a very familiar journal in his hands.

“The fuckin’ squirrels are gonna be hell to catch,” he saidwithout looking up at her – though he was obviously aware of her presence –before turning a page in the journal. “But, I’ll be more impressed if youactually go through with the grave-robbery.”

Sakura screamed.

He looked a little amused as she scrambled back out of the roomand rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a knife and fumbling with her cellphone.Rushing back to her living room, she found the strange man still on her couch and,trying not to let her hands shake, she brandished both her knife and phone.

“I don’t know who the hell you are or how you got in here but youbetter get the fuck out! I’m callingthe cops!”

His smirk turned into more a sneer and he simply snapped hisfingers, posture still unsettlingly relaxed. Almost instantly there was searingpain in one of her hands as the knife turned red hot and she gave a shriek, amix of pain and surprise, before dropping the blade as it quite literallyburned her. It cooled the moment it hit the ground, resting innocently on hercarpet as she stared down at it. Quickly becoming aware of a distinct emptiness in her other hand, Sakura glancedto it and realized her phone was missing.

Looking back to the intruder, she could only stare in both bafflementand horror as she noticed he was nowholding her phone. She’d only been halfway through dialing the emergency numberwhen it had been magicked out of her hand and, with a smirk, the man turned hercellphone off before tossing it carelessly onto the seat beside him.

Sakura gaped openly, carefully touching her sore fingertips as shesearched for some way to respond.

"Who the hell are you?”

“Hidan.” He replied with a shrug.

She swayed backwards slightly, expression hesitant. She… hadn’tactually expected him to answer.

“Alright… Hidan.”She spoke carefully and glanced around, almost searching for some sort of portalto Hell, because this guy definitelywasn’t human. She took another moment to look over those odd tattoos –which she had a very ample view of due to the fact that he was only dressed ina pair of dark grey pants - and the hornsbefore rubbing her face.

“Why are you here…?”

His expression turnedannoyed and he simply held up the journal, waving it at her.

“That old asshatmanaged to actually get a curse right for once.”

Eyebrows furrowed,Sakura carefully leaned against the doorframe, gaze zeroed in on the book. “UncleMaseo..?”

“Duh.”

Resisting the urge togrit her teeth, she massaged her temples and shot Hidan a glare. “What the hellis going on?”

He made a face ather, snorting before snapping the journal open again, and hunching over slightlyas he squinted at the pages. Running a clawed finger over a page, not hardenough to actually rip the paper, he sneered again before leaning back andkicking his legs up to rest on her coffee table.

“As far as I cantell, I’m stuck here until someone –hint, it’s you, princess – repays the old coot’s debts.”

“E-excuse me?”

Hidan gave heranother annoyed look, ignoring the glare she was shooting his crossed legs onher table, and shook the book at her again.

“Ya dense or somethin’?I’m bound to this damned journal and I’d highly suggest you get your cute assin gear and start paying back these IOUs or this is gonna be one hell of afucking shitty sleepover.”

Ignoring his commentin favor of stomping over and kicking at his legs before snatching the journal,Sakura frowned down at the neat handwriting.

“If you’re… bound to this thing, why don’t you justleave and take it with you? Why the hell do you have to be here?”

A scoff, at whichSakura pursed her lips in distaste.

“Don’t you think Iwould have fuckin’ hit the road already if I could?”

Nearly screaming infrustration, Sakura stomped her way back into the kitchen, vaguely aware ofHidan leisurely rising from the couch and following after her as she rummagedaround in the drawers next to the oven. Finally finding a box of matches, she litone and held it to the journal, teeth gritting as she waited for the pages tocatch before dropping it into her empty sink. Spinning back around, she plantedher hands on her hips and nodded towards the small fire burning behind her.

“There! Problemsolved.”

A little drastic but –

“Think again,princess.”

Hidan sent her a lessthan impressed look and crossed his arms, sneering at her sink. Almostreluctantly, Sakura turned around and looked down in unveiled horror at thejournal, the entirety of the book engulfed in flame but, somehow, perfectly fine.

Making an odd,half-choked sound, Sakura numbly turned on the water faucet, waiting until theflames were extinguished before hesitantly picking the book up. It wasn’t evenwarm – wasn’t even wet – and Sakurasent the demon a rather pleading look over her shoulder.

“What the hell evenis this journal?”

He shrugged andleaned against her stove, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“It’s cursed, obviously.”

“And just what does that have to do with me?!”

Another sneer, thoughthis one seemed more bemused than the last, and he grabbed her wrist, holdingup her hand with the odd symbol marking her palm. Dropping her arm, he turnedhis back to her and jabbed a thumb at the back of his neck. There, just a fewshades lighter than his skin, was an identical rune. An inverted triangleinside a simple circle.

“You’re cursed. That fuckin’ mark is mine.”

“And why am I cursed?”

He spun back aroundand sent her a frustrated look, lip pulled up as he nearly growled inirritation.

“Cause you fuckingopened that damned book!”

Rubbing at her face,Sakura gave a tired sigh and groaned under her breath. ‘This shit’s you’re problem now.’ The journal had said. ‘Have fun.’

Right.

Leaning against hersink, she flipped open the journal and started skimming the pages. From whatshe could see, a majority of the items had already been scratched through. Butthere were still pages of IOUs.

“So,” She finallysaid after a moment, glancing up at Hidan, “I just need to finish paying backthe rest of the stuff on the list and you’ll leave?”

“Probably.”

Resisting the urge toslap him, Sakura grit her teeth and dropped her gaze back down at the pages,eyes narrowing.

“Where the hell am I supposed to get a Fabergeegg?!”

He sent her anothershrug, lips twisted in a smug smirk. “I’m not here to help you, princess. Myjob is to just haunt the shit outta you and make sure you pay back the old man’sdebts. Where and how you get the shit isn’t my problem.”

Sighing, Sakuradropped the book onto her counter and tugged the towel off her head, runningher fingers through her still slightly-damn hair.

“Fine. And stop calling me ‘princess’.”

She missed the way herolled his odd purple eyes at her, silver eyebrow raised. “Well, I don’t knowyour fuckin’ name, now do I, princess?”

Flushing slightly,Sakura draped the towel over her arm and moved to leave the kitchen, grabbingthe book after a second thought.

“Oh, uhm. I’m Sakura.”

She pointedly ignoredhis grin but was aware of Hidan following after her, the light catching andglinting off the curves of his horns.

“Well, Sakura,” He draped an arm over hershoulders, acting much too buddy-buddy for her tastes – which she made apparentby pursing her lips before attempting to squirm out from under his arm. “Where’sthe guest room? I could use a looong, fuckin’ nap.”

She made a face andshoved him off of her, lip curled and the journal clutched to her chest.

“No. You are not a house guest.”

“Then where the fuckam I sleeping?”

Sakura sent a pointedlook at the couch he’d been lounging on earlier and he quickly shot her aglare.

“I could be here formonths – like hell I’m sleeping on yourdamned couch!”

Sakura tapped herfoot impatiently, her messenger back slung over her shoulder and a box underone arm as she scrolled through her phone with her free hand. It was a prettynice day out, but she could see storm clouds rolling in from the distance andshe really didn’t want to get stuckin the rain.

“Pizza tonight?” Shecalled over her shoulder, not bothering to glance back at Hidan, who wasleaning against the porch railing of the nice suburban house they were visiting,her gaze still glued to her phone screen.

Arms crossed, thedemon shrugged and flicked a leaf off the black sleeve of his – admittedly,damn nice – suit, looking very out ofplace next to her. His horns, oddly colored skin, and tattoos were hiddenbehind his glamour, silver hair still slicked back and magenta eyes bored as heglanced around his surroundings with distaste. His skin still looked a littlegrey and there was no hiding the rune burned on the back of his neck – her matchingmark still present on her palm – but Sakura was more than relieved that he wasn’trunning around without a shirt.

“Depends,” Hidananswered, absentmindedly picking at his teeth, “You makin’ it from scratch orare we ordering?”

It had been a littleover a month since the demon had first ‘arrived’ and, after the long process ofsorting out which IOUs Sakura would need to handle, scouring Uncle Maseo’shouse for an address book or somethingthat would at least give her a head start on matching names to actual people,she’d finally begun repaying his debts. So far, she’d had pretty decent luckfinding the people on the list and delivering the items Uncle Maseo had owed,with Hidan as a near constant companion.

Eyebrow quirked,Sakura looked back at him, locking her phone and slipping it into her pocket.

“Last time I attemptedmaking one from scratch, you tried to add a bunch of toppings from literal Hell.”

Hidan made a face,snorting at her response.

“Pickled bat wingsare fucking delicious.”

She was just about toreply, fully prepared to shoot down all of his disgusting suggestions, when the door finally opened and Sakuraquickly turned her attention forward once more.

Standing in thedoorway was a young woman, who regarded them with unveiled – albeit ratherannoyed - curiosity, her gaze darting from the pleasantly smiling pinkette tothe sour-looking man leaning against the wooden railing.

“That’s them, Mama.”The little boy clutching her leg – he’d been the one to first answer the doorbefore quickly rushing off to find his mother at Sakura’s beckoning – murmured shyly,half hiding behind the woman.

“May I help you..?”

Sakura put on hermost charming smile, shifting her hold on the box under her arm.

“Yes, good afternoon.My name is Sakura – is this Miguel Sorrentino’s residence?”

The woman’s eyebrows furrowedslightly and she shooed the boy away, crossing her arms as she regarded the twostrangers on her porch.

“Yes.”

Sakura’s smilewidened – check! – and nodded in thanks.

“May I speak withhim?”

“You’re about threemonths too late.” The woman deadpanned.

“O-oh?”

“He passed away inJanuary.”

Sakura blinked,taking in this information. She heard Hidan straighten behind her and quicklyoffered her hurried condolences to the woman before glancing back at him – theyhadn’t faced a roadblock like this one yet.

“Now what?” Shehissed at the demon, the other woman watching them with growing suspicion. “AmI expected to break into a cemetery or something?”

Hidan rubbed the backof his neck before shrugging, lips twisted in a confused grimace.

“How the hell shouldI know? Next of kin should be fine…? Maybe?”

Sakura quicklysnapped her attention back to the frowning woman, her smile more awkward thancharming now.

“You wouldn’t happento be rela-”

“I’m his granddaughter.”She interrupted with another deadpan, lips pursed and expression rather exasperated.

“Excellent! This isfor you, from Maseo Haruno.” Shoving the box into the woman’s arms, Sakura gavea quick bow and pulled a weathered journal out of her bag, quickly flipping itopen to a page towards the middle. While the other woman fumbled with the boxin surprise, Sakura grinned as she watched ‘December20, 1987 - Miguel Sorrentino’ magicallycross itself out.

“Perfect! Thanks somuch, ma’am!”

The woman sent thepair a bewildered look as they began to leave, carefully lifting the lid offthe box and peering inside before balking at its contents.

“Wait! What am Isupposed to do with a miniature tuba?!”

“Yes, have a niceday!” Sakura called, taking Hidan’s arm as she hurried down the street.

Once they were ablock or so away, she slipped her phone back out of her pocket and checked ‘Miguel Sorrentino – one miniature tuba’ off her own, digital list, Hidan walking nextto her and whistling happily.

“Another one dealtwith. And I’ll make a note that giving the stuff to family members works justfine if the original person is deceased.” She muttered to herself, scrollingthrough her notes for this annoying ‘project’. After a moment, she grimaced andlet out a sigh, shoving her cell back into her pocket.

“I’ve estimated thatI’m going to need at least$1,673 in cash for some of these IOUs. Notincluding the budget I’ll need for buyingsome of this shit.” Groaning in frustration, Sakura ran her hands down herface, frowning up at the darkening sky. As rain began to fall, she waspleasantly surprised to find the demon snapping his fingers to summon anumbrella, holding it over the pair of them as they walked.

“Why couldn’t the old manhave left me a small fortune too?”

Hidan hummed in reply,lips quirked in a smirk.

“How about some fuckin’salamander eyes? They taste just like olives, I swear.”

“Hell no!”

#hidasaku #thirrinwrites #thirrinanswers #3k words here u go anon thanks waiting ;w;#long post #gomen mobile readers #Anonymous

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stephka · 7 years

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I was thinking this morning why should I write about my year. I don’t know how many times I’ve done it but I feel it’s a way to recap everything that happened, to process it, and see what I can learn and leave behind. 2016 was sort of a blur, if not completely one. Seasons kept confusing me, I still think my summer happened a couple of months ago and I felt so lost (a bit still). I’m aware that time is continuous, that although I hate that we measure it, passing from one calendar to another makes me a bit optimistic for whatever it may bring.

I came back from my studies abroad in mid February (thing I regretted a looong time because, man, I could’ve stayed like another month if it had not been for that wanker); came from cold to really hot, from lovely and friendly faces to the same old shit in uni-crappy teachers and crappy classes-, from not being afraid on the streets to being harassed 1 day after I arrived. It took me so long to get used to the chaos, the traffic and the rude people, missing every damn day the life I had in Germany. After one month I got a (badly) payed internship because my mom could no longer give me money and c’mon, I needed to start paying for my own stuff. The job wasn’t so bad, I had the chance to go to Oaxaca and I liked the people there but it was definitely not what I wanted to do and I was stressing too much with uni and arriving there on time. I asked for a two week break until I could catch up with homework and when I wanted to go back there weren’t things for me to do. They told me to wait but I felt my mom’s pressure and got myself 2 interviews, I was accepted on both but one was part time, low pay and with time to do my social service and the other was full time and really good pay. The activities that they told me I would be doing sounded great so I went for that one and decided to wait for the social service. While I was doing my internship I struggled to maintain a relationship, at least a friendly one, with the wanker. It obviously didn’t work out because he’s a fucking idiot (guess I’m still mad at him -but already healed!-) and when I confirmed my suspicions, well, it wasn’t pretty but as a good member of this honorable society (I’m being ironic here) I had to keep on going and pretend everything was alright, that I wasn’t hurt and that my mental health was normal. This never works out but the summer came and with it the lovely visit of my oldest friend and “love of my life” Dariush.

My uni went on strike, which was really good because I couldn’t stand it any longer and I didn’t wanna do anything so I hanged out a lot with him, his brother and another friend, Horacio. Just thinking about him makes me really happy, I really cherish him. He bought himself a tattoo machine and I let him practice on me. My first tattoo, done by one of the persons I trust the most and absolutely adore. I love looking at it still.

That same day that he tattooed me, a friend I stumbled upon on March 2015 -in a music website- and I could finally skype. We talked from about 8pm till 3 am. I remember when he looked straight to the camera and I felt he was making eye contact with me, I felt something strange running through my torso, kinda like butterflies in the stomach, but different. It was nice, though. I let it pass. Our conversations began to grow, not taking 3 weeks to answer one another and even having more video calls. By then I had started my new job. Whenever the owner arrived he would give me the most awful stare, so after a while I started doing the same. The people I worked with were amazing and I had fun but the job sucked and although the pay was really good everyday I grew frustrated and felt so aimless and lost because I wasn’t learning anything new or doing something that I liked. The bosses didn’t like me either so those bad vibes from them also started getting at me. I still had to turn in some final projects at uni and it was a pain in the ass to ask for permission, even when I told them when they interviewed me that I would have to go some days for paperwork. I decided I’d hang on until January to save some money but at the end of October I was kinda fired. I say kinda because here you get a 3 month trial, I didn’t “pass” it so I was laid off. I was relieved but then worried about the money. The next week I started the social service. I had already finished uni and only felt the weight being lifted from my shoulders until I lost the job. My birthday was surprisingly good but I still hate getting older. I was celebrated by my new friends with songs in German and some new ones in Spanish, flowers and gifts from abroad. That was lovely. Conversations with my friend kept on going and one late night he told me he feels attracted to me. Until then I hadn’t consider the idea, or the feeling but it made sense so I told him all of what he had said, I feel it too. He laughed because I was so tired that I just wrote, “yeah, all that”. Ever since, we have had many discussions about relationships, what we want, what is our idea of love and also some frustrations since we can’t be in the same place and in each other’s presence. I planned a trip to California late September/beginning of October to see my friend Bobby and catch Freddy. It didn’t happen because of the new job and I felt really sad and frustrated that I wasn’t going to see them. I still had a voucher with an airline and chose New Orleans as my destination since I’ve been wanting to go there for a long time to listen to all that Jazz and know more about the history that place holds. The idea is to meet him there. November and December were really tough. My mom and I being jobless and depressed, well, we don’t go out much and she has a lot of demands and negative comments so that made me really anxious. Social service became so boring and I just want to get my degree and a job. So this week I started a new one in the mornings, and just two days in I’m feeling better with getting up at 8 am and making a short trip to do stuff. Let’s see how that develops but at least I’m not all day home rotting on my bed.

Been clearing some boxes because in two weeks my friends Ari & Geri come visit and also because I have so many useless things. I’m a hoarder of memories. I used to have a redbull can only because it was in Portuguese... I still have to clean more spaces. I have a ton of magazines and I don’t wanna get rid of them. Many photos and negatives. What am I supposed to do with all these things when I move out? Because I’m definitely doing that this year.

I kept my 12 wishes or resolutions very real (I think) and I finally changed them because I kept writing the same things and never got to do any of them. So, 2016 might’ve been a year filled with tears, tension, frustrations, too much anxiety but it was also filled with lovely friends, many nice memories and above all with a lot of learnings. I’m gonna get so much shit done this year, I promise this to myself. And I’m definitely kissing that guy! Now I’m going to bed because I still find it difficult to wake up early. Maybe this helps me as a reference of what not to do again, to not let my sadness and anxiety control me and just know that everyday I can start all over, even though sometimes that tires me.

#stefko

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taneyhana · 5 years

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I Woke Hard I Woke Heavy || Laney || Chatzy || Saturday, September 5th, 2015

This chatzy is NSFW and marks the beginning of Lucas and Taney’s relationship. @lucas-peterson

Taney: She was only back in LA Thursday through Sunday night for Winnie's birthday. The last trip back wasn't the type she could have seen Lucas for but they kept in touch while she was away. He needed his tattoo to be touched up now that it was completely healed and the ink had settled. Truthfully she just wanted to see him. Not only did she worry about him but she missed him, this uncommon sensation of 'giving a shit' seemed to have weaseled into her relationship with him. Not that Taney was the type to use the 'r'-word.

Taney: Sitting on the counter of kINK she waited for him, her massive cup of black coffee sitting untouched next to her. The anticipation enough to keep her awake.

Taney: When he walked in it took all her self control to not initiate the greeting and she had to shake off that sensation.

Lucas: She looked like a cat ready to pounce which was all kinds of hilarious given that this was Taney and large displays of emotion didn't really seem her thing but he was certain she was excited to see him. Lucas had missed her. He didn't realise how much he relied on her to understand his darker side before she was gone and suddenly shit was fucking up and he couldn't vent at anyone who would understand to the level she did.

Lucas: "You just gonna stare or do I get a hello of some sort." Lucas stopped in front of her, a smirk on his face. "You can admit that you missed me. I'd miss me. I'm kinda awesome."

Taney: The receptionist, Zissy, knew better than to ever ask Taney any questions. The other tattoo artist knew she was only there for one appointment. They'd caught up about the show and filming in London before anyone else had gotten to the shop. She wasn't on the schedule and wouldn't be until the New Year, not that she needed the money.

Taney: Her green eyes looked up into his blue ones as she approached the counter, her head nearly at his shoulder from up there, though as soon as she hopped down it was much lower. The woman's thin arms wrapped smoothly around him and tightened their hold, like a snake but not without warmth. Her chin rested on his sternum and the corners of her mouth threatened to turn up into a smile as she said, "Hey, cheeky bastard, you know better than to fish for compliments with me." Her fingers pinched his side before she scuttled back to her private room waving him to follow, "But I guess I did miss you." As soon as she was out of sight and earshot she teasingly added, "or parts of you" and winked at him.

Taney: Watching him set his helmet next to hers on the extra bench along the far wall where normally people would come to sit and watch a friend get a tattoo but always left because Taney made them uncomfortable. It was more her napping place- though most surfaces were. Her eyes rested on the helmets, her thoughts turning to one of their rides up the coast before he could have any fun and she tried to pinpoint the moment she cared about him so much. The last time the helmets sat next to each other they were spending hours tangled together but she knew that the easy bridge of communication was established before that. She pulled herself out of her thoughts and her eyes looked up at him again, much higher to accommodate the gap that the counter had helped fill. "Shirt off. Let me see how its filled out."

Taney: The dress she wore ( https://www.aliceandolivia.com/tevin-ang... ) could only be described as a bit 'frilly' for Taney, but its being black made it slightly more 'Morticia Addams' for Taney. She wanted to look nice for her daughter's first birthday, but that didn't change the fact that she was always a bit macabre in her attire and aside from varying the shades of gray she rarely left the neutral tones. Normally, someone might have worn tights or leggings under such a short dress, she wore spiked heels and black lingerie ( https://www.victoriassecret.com/lingerie... ) that left nothing to the imagination as she intentionally bent over to take her equipment out of a lower cabinet. Slowly, she looked back at him, waiting for his eyes to leave the show and catch her own only for her to get distracted by his own shirtlessness.

Lucas: Lucas followed Taney back without question. It was good to see her. He'd been needing to vent for a while and calls to the UK were damn expensive. He pulled off his jacket as they walked into the room and dropped it on the side along with his helmet. His eyes followed Taney as she moved around the room, gladly taking in the show she was setting up for him. "I think it looks pretty awesome." Lucas replied as he took off his shirt to let Taney see her work. "Of course you would be a better judge than I would." He set his shirt down and moved towards the chair, his eyes never leaving her.

Lucas: "I gotta say, you're making it really hard to think about my tattoo right now." He grinned cheekily. "You run off to the UK and leave me high and dry. Now I have to socialise and all that crap. Do you know how difficult it is to find women who actually want to sleep with me? There use to be a time where I didn't even have to think about it and now I spend most of my time awkwardly making chit chat with women who don't want sex from me. Unless you're counting the barely legal teenagers in my classes but I'm not. They're only interested because i'm older and apparently that means maturity or some crap."

Taney: When he sat on the chair she set her equipment on the table and then sat on his lap. Sure, she could've sat on the other chair and scooted in to examine the details of his tattoo, but it wasn't like it was the first time they had been close. She listened to him talk as her soft small hands ran over the wings she'd painted across his firm muscles.

Taney: "They're all idiots." She said it flatly and directly. "I'm sorry I left...and I'm sorry I haven't called more- I'm not made of money, yet." The corners of her mouth nearly tugged into a smile and her green eyes fell away from his face, her dark hair creating a curtain between them. "I'm here now, I hope that's worth something." She'd be lying to herself if she tried to deny that he was always in a part of her head. "They may be naive but I'm sure some of them are more mature than they appear. I'm no different now than I was a few years ago... but I went through the ringer to get here." Taney found herself asking something she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to, "Is that what you want? A relationship?"

Taney: Her lips pressed into a line of red and she was temporarily her relieved her hair blocked her face from his as she finished looking at the details of his tattoo to make notes of what she needed to work on. "If it's what you want then you just have to keep your eyes open. She's out there. Until then I don't mind being holding you over in the least." She cackled her head lulling back and when she straightened up and kept laughing her lips were just inches from his, waiting.

Lucas: "Now I never said that I wanted a relationship. If it happens it happens but I'm not looking. I mean it would be nice to have someone around all the time that I know wants to screw me." He moved a hand up her thigh slowly, his smile growing steadily before he leaned in to kiss the laughter from her lips. "Just because I'm complaining about the lack of women to fuck doesn't mean I plan on closing the door on this any time soon. You're much too fun for my own good." He said quietly against her lips. "But it aint like me being in a relationship means I'm gonna disappear. Need I remind you that you're married and still get to freely have your fun?"

Lucas: His hand disappeared under the hem of her dress and Lucas reached up with the other cupping the back of Taney's head. He kissed her again, harder this time, letting her feel how much he missed having her around. As he kissed her he tried to think back on last time he was here and what surface he had preferred to fuck her on because if he knew himself and he knew Taney then neither of them were leaving the room without getting off.

Taney: There was something so magnetic, so alight every time Lucas touched her, it was no surprise she always wanted more. She was invested, not having many friends it was easy for her to not want to fuck up something with someone that actually understood her. Still, the twinge of jealousy surprised her. Taney knew all too well that there were few people like her in the world that were okay with open relationships. The fact that she was a sex addict never bothered Maverick, she wasn't sabotaging their relationship because it was open and she was always happy to go home to him at the end of the night- him and their daughter. Still, it didn't change the fact that when Lucas held her close and talked about wanting someone there for him, always, she could feel a part of her that tugged, that wanted to be that. She couldn't even accomplish that for Maverick.

Taney: So, she closed her eyes and let him kiss her lips, letting her mouth open to the warmth of him. They were both bikers, the both worked with their hands, and they both had their dysfunctions. It was the symmetry, the push and pull between them, that made her lose track of time. Maybe for a more sentimental person the world stopped when you kissed someone you cared about, but with Lucas for Taney it felt like they were the anchored point in a time-lapse.

Taney: It was usually easier for her to compartmentalize her needs, thoughts, and desires but as he kept kissing her, harder and more hungry, she reciprocated and her heart raced. Taney's hands slid down his chest and was already working to take his pants off. She gasped between their kisses as she moved off his lap a little to help them fall to the ground. They didn't need words to tell each other they cared, definitely not to say they missed each other. She knew they'd talk when she was working on his tattoo, but first she wanted to show him with her body.

Lucas: He pulled his hands back from where they had wandered up her skirt and moved them up her body until he could unzip her dress. Once the zip was down he pulled the dress up over her over her body so he could see what she had left him with. The smirk was almost instant when he saw the underwear she had put on. He really did have a thing for nice lingerie. Lucas trailed his hands back down, fingers moving over skin until he stopped at her thighs again, giving the bare flesh a squeeze. Sometimes you just needed to get your hands on someone and Taney was always such a lovely picture to unwrap.

Lucas: The time for talk was over, his mouth occupied with hers for the moment. Lucas let his teeth sink into her lower lip, nipping at it before he did the same to her jaw. This was so easy with Taney, both sides of their friendship were perfectly clear. They cared about each other and understood one another and were able to satisfy each other when they wanted to without it becoming complicated. He preferred the clarity in the way they approached each other. Every time he wasn't sure where he stood with someone he ended up getting hurt, doing something stupid, or both.

Taney: "That fucking smirk." She grinned like a wicked kitten as the thought passed her lips. She was always somewhere between speaking her mind and being silent as the grave. If she didn't like you she used it to drive a person insane, with the few people she did whichever kept the relationship from getting muddled. In her mind things weren't ever complicated with Lucas...then again, she didn't let herself get lost in her head long enough to complicate things.

Taney: As his mouth moved across her skin Taney tried to focus on what she was physically feeling and not the emotions that always seemed to bubble up the closer she got to Lucas. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt the person that understood her best. Still, as his lips left tickled her skin and his teeth left little marks she felt her body tensing up, not from the thought of sleeping with him again- the rocking of her hips pleading for more was obvious that wasn't the case. No, she tensed because she realized she loved him. It wasn't easy for her to say it but as his hands brushed her skin it seemed to burn her up inside.

Taney: The tips of her fingers crossed his chest and trailed up his neck until they reached his chest. They lifted his eyes to her own and she shut hers, trying to stop herself by saying it by kissing him. When she opened her green eyes they locked on his, for a fraction of a second she wondered if he noticed the slight shift of her eyes. She kissed him again, longer and deeper. When she came up for air her eyes met his again, a little part of her threatened her with the 'now or never' scenario as her mouth opened she formed the words that, whether he knew it or not, was how she said those three words. "I missed you, you idiot." Translation: I missed you, and I love you.

Lucas: Forcing Taney to say she missed him and her saying it out of her own free will had two completely different levels of significance. The way she said it, it was heavy with meaning. It took him a moment and he'd never be able to be 100% sure but with the way she had lifted his eyes to hers and spoke to him with no smirk or teasing tone, it told him that "I missed you." was the most important set of three words Taney had ever said to him. It stunned him still for a second but he reached up and held her face in his hands, letting their progress towards fucking pause for a second. "I missed you too, Satan." He smiled a little after hoping she would get it before he kissed her forehead. His lips moved to her temple, her cheek and then her lips, deepening the kiss after a moment.

Lucas: Lucas pulled back only so he could press his lips to more of her skin, moving over her jaw and down her neck till he reached the smooth marble of her shoulders. Pushing the straps of her bra off of her shoulders he gently sank his teeth into the skin just above her collarbone.

Taney: She could see it in his eyes, he understood the deeper meaning to her words. She let him kiss her with the intensity of his own desires and she tried to read his meaning from it. Normally she wasn't the type to want or let people kiss her tenderly, Maverick was the first person she let in like that and now Lucas. The tips of her fingers brushed the back of his neck and when they came up for air, just briefly, she rested her forehead on his. Taney's green eyes locked on his as he undressed and kissed her. Goosebumps covered her skin and she moaned quietly, awaiting his next move.

Lucas: He undressed her until she was in nothing but her panties, something he knew he'd have to move if he wanted them off. Lucas ran his hands over her body, rough callouses moving over marble. He lover his lips to her neck, to her shoulders. Shifting his position a little he wrapped an arm around her so he could support her back while his lips moved down over her breasts. He felt like a man starved and filled with an intense hunger for something or maybe it was just her. He had experience in how insatiable she could be maybe that's what he had been missing.

Lucas: Lucas pushed himself up the rest of the way, quickly getting up off of the chair so that he could lie Taney down and pull off her panties. He leaned down over her grinning wickedly before he trailed his lips down her stomach.

Taney: The cool air of her private room only made every touch of Lucas' strong hands and warm mouth on her body all the more intense. She brushed her fingers through his hair, bit her lip, but the purr and laugh left her. It was short as he kissed his way lower, over the curves of her hips and into the bare smooth warmth of her pussy.

Taney: There was a familiar intensity and anticipation met with the expectation that whatever happened could only top their first time now that they knew each others ticks. Lucas did just that. As he got her off, Taney gasped and held the edges of the table. He drew it out until she begged and when she finally came her nails left marks in his shoulders that would last a few days.

Taney: When he finished, Taney took a moment to catch her breath. Then, sliding off the table, she wrapped her arms around him. It might have been seen as sweet, her small hands softly massaged his back, but her chin rested on him and the corners over her mouth turned up into a wicked smile. Her height kept her hardly at his sternum, at about a foot shorter than him. She kissed his abs, his cut and peeled his boxers down. She bunched up whatever clothes were around to cushion her knees from the tile floor and kissed his thighs.

Taney: Lucas stood at attention and her vibrant green eyes looked up at him, waiting for all his attention to be on her, she blew softly up his length teasing him. Then, Taney drew one finger softly down. She continued the slow torture, adding fingers until she held his thick cock in her hands. Her warm mouth relaxed as she took him in and she purred as she tasted him, smiled as he moaned at the little tricks of her tongue, and with her trained ear she stopped and pulled away as his breathing became jagged and the muscles of his thighs and abs, which she had been periodically massaging, tensed.

Taney: Gently pushing him to the table softly she paused to sip some water and wipe her mouth. As she climbed on top of him, his cock eagerly pressing against her clit, begging for her to rock her hips enough to take her, she kissed him. The taste of themselves was faint if not gone, but the kiss, the missing him, it was a kiss filled with enough passion to make her not care either way. The longer she kissed him, the harder it was for her to stop herself from taking the lead, but having been in control of everything in her life and having put herself in a vulnerable place with him, she was curious about what he would do. So, as she waited she moaner, her body rubbing up and down his shaft, covering it in her juices.

Lucas: When Lucas was younger and just learning the ways of sex he often thought that teasing was a pointless, useless, aggravating part of the process. Now as he neared 30 he understood how good it made things when you teased a little. More so when someone ended up teasing themselves. He let her move against him, his hand drumming patterns against her thigh, until she noticed what he was doing and stopped.

Lucas: He grinned, his hand slipping up to her hip. Lucas moved her slowly, the head of his cock pressing into her just a little. He's not usually one to watch as he presses into someone but he's missed her more than he thinks he's allowed to and watching helps him really understand that she is real and there and wanting. He's slow as he pushes into her, she probably hates it but he likes the control she's giving him and he wants to be a bit of an ass when he can get away with it.

Lucas: From this position he knew he wouldn't be able to move his hips much but as she sank down onto him he knew Taney would likely snap soon enough and take things to a pace she wanted. Not that he would have minded. He rather liked her being in control though it really said something about the trust she had in him to take a back seat.

Taney: She looked up at Lucas as her small hands moved down his chest. Taney's nails tried and failed to mark him, to pull him closer and deeper into her. Gasping with hungry want she said his name in the most pleading way and bit her lip. Her chest rose and fell as she relaxed with each longing moment he lipped farther into her. It wasn't the kind of sex she'd had with many people. In fact, it was a kind of sex, love making, that really took all her trust. Her mechanical allodynia left her incapable of having moments like this with people she didn't have an extremely strong connection with. She loved Lucas, he'd been her friend, then her confidant, a lover, and now a love.

Taney: Once he was completely inside her, smirking at her like she usually smirked at him, Taney's hands stopped with their begging for more and softly moved up his body to cup his face. The weight of him pressed down on her and his mouth met hers. Her ankles locked behind him as he took her and they drowned each other in kisses and laughter and biting. Whispered I missed yous and I love yous found them in the hours that danced by as he took her. When they both had finished and Lucas was lying her client table she rested her chin on his chest and kissed the tattoo. "You think I've stopped shaking enough to touch this up for you?" She wrinkled her nose and winked at him before reluctantly getting up and getting what she needed. She cleaned the area, gave him water, and climbed on him, the both of them still naked. Periodically his hands would wander, she would squirm as her body begged for more of him but they somehow managed to get their work done. The day would mark the beginning of an unbreakable lifelong connection.

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