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heartateasee · 1 month

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“Epilogue”

Word Count: 19.2k (a long one, but it didn’t feel right to split it up)

(Epilogue for ‘Goodnight and Go’)

Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving) and unprotected sex

⋆★★⋆

*Late winter - a little over three years since the wedding*

*It will be notated in the chapter when the song is meant to start. I highly encourage you to start it when it comes into play, but you can also do whatever your sweet heart desires!*

Sitting in my go to cafe, I jot down another thought into my journal as I take a sip of my black coffee. Today had been a heavy mental day, and I just needed to get out of my house to clear my head. My therapist tasked me with taking up journaling at the end of my first month of therapy - my fourth session. She asked me to start out with lists that she would give me, but then after a while she told me just to jot down whatever came to mind. Even though I wasn't actively in therapy anymore, I still held onto this - it was enough for me to not have to go to an appointment every week.

I was proud of myself for that. I've been able to use the tools given to me to be able to tend to my own mind, and to talk myself down - only having to see my therapist when absolutely necessary.

I couldn't pinpoint why today in particular had my mind so boggled though. There wasn't anything upcoming that I was stressed about that I could think of off the top of my head.

My pen continues to scratch over the page, and I feel that my eyebrows are narrowed in concentration as I let out thought after thought. I could feel the fog in my mind starting to ease with each line, but still...it didn't seem to be enough.

As much as I have gotten a good grip on myself and my emotions, there were days that I still just felt...off. Today was definitely one of them. It wasn't so much anxiousness or nervousness that I was feeling - something that I've battled with for the past two years. It was something different. It was something that I couldn't exactly put my finger on, and I think that's what caused my mind to race from the moment I opened my eyes this morning.

The cafe was bustling on this Saturday morning, and I was lucky that I was able to get my usual two seat table in the back corner. Although I can hear the baristas loud and clear from here, the rest of the noise in the cafe seems to drown due to how far back I am.

"Order for Carter!"

My pen stops, and I take a moment to blink at the page.

It can't be her.

Shaking my head, I push the thought from my mind as I chew on my bottom lip - trying to figure out how to phrase what I want to write down next.

It's not until I see a streak of red hair out of my peripheral that I finally look up.

There's no mistaking the woman smiling as she picks up her cup off the counter. She digs into her bag, and I can see that she's given the barista a postcard with an illustration of a flower on it. There's some kind of quote on the back, and by the look on the barista's face, it must be something kind, or inspirational.

Before I can even think about it, I push myself up from my seat to get a better look. My movement must have been caught out of the corner of her eye because it's barely a few seconds later that she's looking at me.

She holds her paper cup in both hands as we stare at each out from a ways across the cafe - her expression unreadable.

I hadn't seen her since the wedding. After that, she disappeared from my life completely. I had tried for months to reach her, but I never got any response. Gwen had told me she had tried to do the same. I'd only found out just in the past year that was a lie.

No one saw Carter that first Christmas after everything.

After that, the holidays were always separated due to the fact that Carter and Gwen's parents divorced only a few months after the wedding. I knew that Carter spent the holidays with her father while Gwen and I spent them with mother. Their parents hardly had any communication with each other, and I knew that their mother hadn't attempted to reach out to Carter at all - something she made very clear whenever she could.

I should've realized then what this all would become.

Carter's brown eyes look around for a moment before she starts to walk over to me, and I immediately feel my hands begin to shake.

"Harry," she says, just barely meeting my eyes now that she was closer to me. "Hi."

"Hi, Carter," my voice almost sounds strained as I speak, and I clear my throat almost immediately. "I...I didn't know you were visiting."

"Oh, no," she shakes her head. "I'm not visiting. I moved back a couple of months ago. This place has become a regular spot for me. I don't live too far from here."

I raise my eyebrows at her words, and it's then I can see she's looking past me to get a view of the table I had been sitting at - as if she were looking for someone else.

"Do you want to sit?" I ask, turning around and gesturing to the chair across from the one I had been occupying. "I'm here by myself."

Carter takes a moment before she nods. "Okay."

I pull the seat out for her, which earns me a small 'thank you', before I sit back in my own seat. Carter turns to hang her bag on the back of her chair before she's facing forward once more - both of her hands finding their way around her cup again.

Her eyes look down at my journal, and I quickly close it - pulling it from the table to slip into the green tote bag I had brought with me.

"You journal?" She asks, tilting her head to the side.

"Uh, yeah," I lift a hand to rub the back of my neck. I've never really talked to anyone but my therapist about my journaling before. "For about a year or so now."

Carter hums as she nods, pursing her lips to the side. "I do too, but I'm going on about two and a half years. I picked it up when I started therapy."

My chest aches as I can see a sheen of sadness in her eyes for a moment before it disappears. "I started it up for the same reason too."

I can tell this surprises her, and silence blankets over us for a moment.

"Are you still tattooing?" I ask - grimacing when I realize just how awkward this feels between us.

"I am," I watch as a large smile creeps onto Carter's face. "I'm actually working at the shop with Duncan again. He was nice enough to hire me back as soon as I told him I'd be moving home. He was thrilled, actually."

"Of course he was," I say, laughing a bit. "You're exceptional at what you do, Carter. Any shop would be lucky to have you."

Carter's cheeks flush due to my compliment, and I watch as she lifts her cup to her mouth. She hisses quickly as she pulls it away, and I know she's burned her tongue.

"Here," I reach forward without hesitation to take the cup from her.

Her eyes are trained on my every move as I pull the lid off the cup, setting it down on a napkin on the table. This was something I did for her quite often when we were in college. There was a bookstore/coffee shop that we frequented a few days a week, and Carter was never one to be patient and wait for her drink to cool properly. I started doing this as a quick solution without her even asking. It just became a habit for me.

I can tell her eyes are on my left hand, and then she looks up at me. "You...you're not..."

"I'm not...what?"

Carter looks back at my hand before looking at my face again. "You're not wearing your ring."

My eyebrows knit together as I look at her. "Carter," I start, and I can tell she's genuinely curious as to why that particular piece of jewelry is missing. "Gwen and I are divorced."

Her eyes widen for a moment, and I watch as the color leaves her face. "O-Oh....oh," she says, straightening up in her chair as she drops her hands to her lap. I can tell she's running her palms over her thighs as she shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Harry, I-I didn't-"

"You didn't know?"

Carter shakes her head again, and I can see with the way her chest is moving that she's trying to take deep breaths.

"Hey," I whisper, leaning forward to take one of her hands in mine from underneath the table - thankful that this table wasn't too big so I was able to reach across to her easily. "It's okay. It actually doesn't surprise me that you wouldn't know."

I run my thumb along her knuckles, and I can tell it's starting to soothe her as she finally looks up from the table to make eye contact with me.

"My dad had said that Gwen moved away, but I figured that meant you did too. That's why I was a bit shocked to see you here," she says, and I can tell she's trying to put it all together. "I don't think he even knows you guys have separated. My mom had only told him about the move."

I can't help but roll my eyes at that. Another thing that didn't shock me. Their mother didn't want their father, or Carter, to know about the divorce. She didn't want Gwen to look like she failed at something.

"She did move," I give Carter's hand one more squeeze before sitting back in my chair - our touch separating. "About five months ago. We've been separated for almost a year and a half. She left a few months after the divorce was completely finalized."

Carter's face shows that she's completely dumbfounded by this information, but she's trying to keep it together. "That's...that's why I moved back, you know? Because I thought you both were gone."

Her words sting, but I can't hold them against her. We wronged her, Gwen and I both, and I don't ever expect her to forgive me for the way that I treated her while I was with Gwen. I know that if anyone had treated me the way I did her, I'd never speak to them again.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you to sit with me. I didn't know you thought I was gone too," I tell her, and now I'm the one gripping my thighs. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I more than understand if I'm the last person you ever wish to talk to."

Looking down at my lap, I pick at my cuticles as I wait to hear her chair slide across the floor. But I don't.

I look up to see Carter still looking at me, and she shakes her head. "I chose to sit here, Harry. I'm okay, I promise."

I give her a small nod, but I immediately look back down at my lap.

A few seconds pass before I hear her clear her throat. "I like your hair. I never thought I'd see you with it so short."

I can't help but smile at her words, and I look at her once more. "Yeah? It's not weird without the curls?"

"I mean...it's a little weird," Carter smirks, and I know she's trying to help our playful banter come out again. "But they look like they're on the verge of growing back. I'm enjoying this little faux hawk thing you have going on though."

She lifts her drink to her lips and takes a sip - not flinching away from the liquid this time, so I know it's cooled down properly for her.

"It feels nice," I shrug. "Healthy and all. I buzzed it completely when the divorce was finalized. It was therapeutic, honestly."

"Oh? I wish I could've seen it buzzed," she giggles, pursing her lips to the side before speaking again. "I get the whole changing your hair thing though. I went brunette a few months after I left."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah, let me see. I'm sure I still have some pictures on my phone," she says before digging into her bag.

She swipes on her screen for a while before turning her phone to face me. "See?"

Even though I know it's Carter in this picture, it's not my Carter. She's smiling for the camera, but there's a dimness behind her eyes that I've never seen from her. She was unhappy - that much was clear.

"Oh, wow," I say, giving her a half grin so as to not disappoint her. "It definitely suited you, but I have to be biased when it comes to the red. It's just you."

"Yeah, I like the red too - I like being natural and all that."

She drops her phone back into her purse before I go to speak again.

"So, did you move back by yourself or..."

"Yeah, just me, and my little black cat, Ichabod," I can see her face light up as she mentions her cat, and it causes a warmth in my chest. "I had been seeing this guy for a little over a year, and I broke up with him about...half a year ago now? It just wasn't working out."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I tell her genuinely. "He wasn't bad to you, was he?"

"Oh, no," Carter shakes her head adamantly. "Not at all. He was actually very sweet, but I realized that even though I loved him, I wasn't in love with him anymore. So, I broke it off almost immediately after realizing that. I didn't want to string him along when I wasn't going to be one hundred percent in the relationship."

"And why do you think you weren't?" I ask, and I watch as Carter starts to play with the cardboard sleeve around her cup. "Why do you think you weren't one hundred percent in the relationship?"

Her eyes peer up at me underneath her lashes, but her face is still tilted slightly towards the table. "I think you and I both know why, Harry."

My stomach flutters when I realize what she's alluding to, but I don't want to press that conversation any further. Not here, and not after just seeing her again for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

"Well, I'm sorry it didn't end up working out. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

"What makes you think that just because that ended that I'm unhappy? I'm actually the happiest I've been in a while since moving back," she tells me, but there's no aggression to her tone as she continues her explanation. "I've just been letting life take me where it wants for the most part, and yeah I get lonely sometimes, but it's okay. The quiet doesn't bother me anymore like it used to."

The confidence that I can see in her now is admirable. She's so sure of herself, and I can tell she means what she says.

Carter is happy.

"Can I ask what it was that you handed the barista earlier?" I have a feeling that whatever that was plays into this newfound self that I can see she has.

"Oh, those are just little postcards I make for fun. I do them in series, I guess? Like right now they're all different flowers, and the quotes on the back have to do with either growth, or rebirth," she explains, leaning forward onto the table a bit. "I keep them in my bag, and I hand them out to people who I feel need them, or someone who's shown me kindness that day. It's nice to see their reactions."

Carter has always had a big heart, and it makes me ecstatic to see that hasn't changed despite what those closest to her have put her through.

As happy as it makes me to see her own growth, there's also a part of me that's sad that I missed it. But the guilt is what chews at me the most. The guilt of just letting her slip through my fingers like I did.

"Oh, shit, what's the time?" I hear Carter ask before she pulls out her phone again. "I need to be at the shop in ten minutes. I'm sorry, I've gotta go."

"That's okay, I was just finishing up too. Let me walk you out?" I ask, and she looks over to me after stopping her slightly frantic movements.

"Sure, yeah."

She puts the lid on her drink as I stand and put the strap of my tote over my shoulder, and soon we're both heading towards the entrance of the cafe. I hold the door open for her as we step outside, and we move over onto the sidewalk so that we're not blocking the door as we stop.

"It was really good seeing you, Carter," I tell her honestly. "And I know it might be too much of me to ask, and you can absolutely say no, but do you think we could meet up again sometime?"

Carter chews on her bottom lip as she contemplates my request before she nods. "Yeah, I think that would be okay. I think I'd like that."

I can tell I have the stupidest smile on my face when I hear her agree. "Okay, yeah, uhm, let me just get my phone out for you to put your new-"

"I have the same number," she interrupts me, and I could tell she was a bit hesitant to say that considering she never once responded to me when I tried to reach out. "And I still have your number too."

I don't say anything in response to that because I understand why she did what she did. I give her a nod, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

"Okay, well, I'll text you so we can plan something, alright?"

"That sounds good."

We stand there for a moment, and I can tell neither of us really know how to end the conversation.

"Did you ever get your heart tattoo?" Carter blurts out, and I can see it was something she had been itching to ask me this whole time.

I laugh softly. "You remember that?"

She nods while giving me a small shrug. "It just stuck with me."

"I haven't, no," I say. "I actually haven't gotten anything since before...everything."

"You mean like before the wedding?"

"Yeah," I sigh, running the tip of my tongue along the inside of my bottom lip. "Didn't really have the motivation or inspiration to get anything new."

Carter stares at me for a moment before speaking again. "Well, if you want to still get it done, I'd be more than happy to do it for you. Just text me when you're free, and I'll see if it lines up with what I have booked right now."

"Wait, are you serious?" I ask. I'm taken completely by surprise that she would offer to do this so quickly after just seeing each other again.

"Well, you told me you wanted me to be the one to do it, right?" She asks playfully as she bumps her shoulder against mine. "I'm not letting anyone else tattoo that on you."

"I guess when you put it that way," I say as if she's twisting my arm, which causes her to let out a noise of disappointment - having her now shove my arm. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I wouldn't want anyone else doing it for me either."

Carter looks up at me with a beaming smile, and for a moment I'm transported right back - as if things never changed. "Then it's settled. Just text me."

"I will."

She begins to walk away from me before she stops. "Oh, here!"

Walking back over, she digs in her bag and flips through something for a moment before she's extending one of her postcards out to me. "I think this one belongs to you."

I look down at it for a moment, and by the time I look back up, I can already see her back towards me in the distance. Shaking my head at her with a smile of my own, I look back down at the postcard to really study it.

On the front was just a plain line work illustration of a daffodil. I flip it over on the back, and I see this one in particular has two quotes. I read each of them over once, but then I find myself reading them again, and again once I process what they really mean.

"The people who are meant to be will always gravitate back towards you, no matter how far they wander." - UNKNOWN

•

"Souls tend to go back to who feels like home." - N.R. HART

⋆★★⋆

It's been a couple of weeks since I saw Carter at the coffee shop, but we had been texting almost every day. I didn't seem too eager, so I didn't text her about booking the tattoo until later that evening, and he she was able to fit me in today. Neither of us made any moves to ask about hanging out outside of my tattoo appointment, but I wanted to so badly.

When I got back to my place after running into her that afternoon, I immediately got on my computer and searched what a daffodil symbolizes. I was met with the answer that it meant 'rebirth and new beginnings' among a few other things, but those stuck out to me the most. She was sending me a signal that maybe we could build this again.

I knew that things were going to be different, it was almost impossible for things to go back to the way they were back then, but I desperately craved to be in Carter's presence again.

Her quote that she handed to me was right. She felt like home.

That was a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while - not even when I spent my first Christmas back in Holmes Chapel this past December. It felt weird going back there by myself, but I did find comfort in being back with my mother, especially since the divorce was still pretty fresh. I ended up staying with my parents for a little over a month. I had never been more thankful for my job allowing me to work from home more than during that time.

I didn't realize just how much time I needed away from everything until then. It gave me a chance to help clear my head, and I still met with my therapist over Zoom so that I kept up with my sessions. It wasn't until I got back that I made her aware that I thought I was doing okay on my own, and that I wanted to see her on a per needed basis going forward. She agreed that she thought that was appropriate, and I've only had to see her once since then.

The need to see her came after Gwen was back in town visiting her mother. She told me that after she moved she realized she had taken some stuff of mine, and she wanted to give it back. I had tried to convince her just to leave it on her mother's porch whenever she left, and that I'd come by and grab it once I knew she was gone, but she refused. I was tempted to tell her just to forget it, that I didn't want any of it back, and that was the truth until she rattled off what the box included. It wasn't until she said there was a spiral bound notebook with a tattered red cover that I knew I needed to get that box back.

That notebook was one that Carter and I used to write notes back and forth to each other in during the class where we first met.

It was obvious that Gwen hadn't gone through it. If she had, there was no way she would've wanted to give me something so sentimental back - especially since it included a piece of Carter. When I went over there to get the box from her, she was immediately in my ear the whole time. She was asking if I thought I had made the right decision divorcing her, and if I was happy with myself. She asked if I had found someone new - asked if they felt as good as she did it.

But it wasn't until she brought up Carter that I snapped.

"I swear to god, if you're with my 'pick me' of a little sister, then you're just pathetic," she had said, and that caused me to stop right where I was. I had been trying to get back to my car so I could pack the box up and leave.

"I think you're a bit mistaken, Gwen," I told her as I looked over my shoulder to see her standing there with her hands on her hips. "You've always been the 'pick me' out of the two of you. I thought by now you maybe would've looked in a mirror and seen that you're the problem - not just with me, but with everyone. All I can say is that I'm lucky I can see it now, and I'm glad I got out of our marriage when I did."

That left her completely dumbfounded, and she didn't utter another word as I got into my car and left. I'm hoping that's the last time I'll ever have to see Gwen.

Regardless of how I defended myself and Carter against her, I was still shaken up by the encounter. My therapist was thankfully able to work me in that same day for a visit. She didn't respond much to me - it was more so of a vent session for me anyway. At the end of that session, she told me that I should be proud of finding it within myself to not only see Gwen, but to also stand up to her. That was something I hadn't been able to do at all in my last year with Gwen.

The first six months of marriage was wonderful, but the remaining year was horrific. I had dealt with Gwen coming home and screaming at me almost every day due to stress from her work. It wasn't until things got physical that I knew I had to leave.

At first it was a slap, and she apologized profusely for it - telling me she would never mean to hurt me, and she couldn't explain why she did it. I let it slide because I knew how much pressure she was under. The next time she hit me it was her closed fist connecting harshly with my chest. The final time, she had attempted to throw a vase at my head. She was lucky I was able to move out of the way quickly, and I avoided it.

I left that night, packing up what I absolutely needed, and I told her that I would be back to get the rest of my things. It took me about a week to get everything out, except for that one box of stuff apparently, and I made sure that I checked our Ring camera for movement before going over so I could see if she was at work. I didn't want to see her anymore at all. The thought of being in her presence made my skin crawl.

The whole thing made me wonder if the physical part of her anger was only just towards me, or if she had ever gotten physical like that with Carter. It broke me to think that Carter could've been on the receiving end of her wrath in that way, and I prayed that I was wrong in thinking that it maybe had happened in the past.

I let Gwen keep the house because I didn't want it. I didn't want the awful memories those walls held, and I knew that with the divorce I'd end up getting some money back for it considering we bought it together. Once I got the money from everything, I ended up getting a house of my own. Thankfully Gwen told the courts the divorce was amicable even though she really didn't want it, and the only reason why she agreed to that was because I agreed to not bring up her abuse if she did so.

I just wanted it all to be over. I wanted to start fresh, and I needed to be rid of her.

I'm drawn out of my thoughts when I realize I'm close to the tattoo shop, and I do my best to force the negativity out of my mind. Today was going to be a positive experience. I also think that today is going to set the tone of where things go from here with Carter. I'm hoping the outcome is us trying to rebuild our friendship, but I would be more than understanding if Carter didn't wish to get close with me again in that capacity. She had every right to deny me.

I parallel park on the street right out front of the shop, just across the street, and hop out. Once I'm inside, I'm immediately drawn to her red hair as she stands at her station. I can see that she's applying some second skin to the forearm of the girl sitting on her table.

"Harry, right?" I hear my name being called, and I look over to see Duncan.

"Yeah, that's right," I give him a small nod while sending him a smile. "It's been a while, Duncan. How are you?"

"I've been good, man, really good," Duncan says as he leans against the check-out counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Business has been great, and I just moved into a new house with my wife and little girl. No complaints. How about you? Carter mentioned that you would be coming in."

I can't help but laugh a bit when I try to think of how to answer Duncan's question. I've never been one to dump my feelings on people when they casually ask how you're doing. "I'm getting better," I tell him honestly. "Had some things happen over the past couple of years, but I'm definitely finding myself again."

Duncan doesn't get a chance to respond as Carter starts walking her client up to the counter. "Hi, Harry," she says, her smile growing the closer she gets to me. "I'll be just another minute or so."

"Take your time," I tell her, shoving my hands into my front pockets.

"You can go ahead and wait by my station if you'd like. I'll just need to get everything sanitized once I'm back over there, then we can start," she tells me, and I give her a nod before following her instructions.

I sit down on one of the stools she had over there as I wait for Carter, but I find it hard to keep my eyes off of her from across the shop. It's clear to see that she's definitely gotten more sure of herself over these past few years. She holds a smile the whole time she checks the client out, and I can see this newfound charisma that I caught at the cafe the other day just seeping out of her.

Once she finishes up, she heads back over to me, and I witness a softness pooling in her eyes as she stands next to me. "How are you?"

I stand up from the stool, and out of habit I go to wrap my arms around her. Carter's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't stop me, if anything, she's quick to reciprocate. Her cheek rests against my chest, and I feel her let out a large exhale as her fingers curl into the loose jumper I was wearing.

"I'm good," I speak, finally replying to her question - moving around so my own cheek is now lying on the top of her head. "How about you?"

I feel Carter nod against me for a moment before we separate. "I'm good as well."

She moves away from me to slip on a pair of gloves, and she begins to wipe her table down completely. Once done, she motions for me to sit there, and she starts to get her station ready.

"Are you nervous?" She peeks at me over her shoulder with a smirk before looking back to her task at hand.

"A little bit, actually," I chuckle, running my hands over the tops of my thighs. "It's been a while, and I think I remember how it feels, but I'm questioning if I really do or not."

"Oh god," Carter gasps as she turns around completely, tugging on my jumper to signal it's time to take it off. "You're not going to pass out on me, are you?"

I can tell she's still being playful with me, and I shake my head. "I think we're good unless I somehow randomly see someone getting their tongue pierced."

Carter tilts her head back with a large laugh, clapping her hands together as I pull my jumper over my head. I'm wearing a black tank top underneath to make it easier for her to access the inside of my bicep. "I'll make sure to have Duncan tell me if someone comes in for one of those so we can make sure you don't get up to go to the bathroom and pass the piercing room at that time."

I roll my eyes at her while she pulls her hair into a bun on the top of her head as I hang my jumper on the small coat rack she has in the corner.

As I walk back over, I see that Carter is slipping the drawing she's made of the heart I wanted out of the front of her binder. The front of her binder is usually reserved for fun little sketches of hers, much like the ones I first noticed when we were in college. I look at the side of her face as I watch her, knowing she usually keeps her stencils in one of the clear sleeves she had inside.

"Did you just finish that up last night? Is that why it's in the front?" I ask, gesturing to the drawing as I sit down on the side of the table.

Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye as she shakes her head. "Uh no...I've had this done for a while," she says, and she quickly clears her throat. "I just need to get it all prepared, I'll be right back."

My eyes watch her as she goes, but she returns quickly with another fresh pair of gloves on, and the stencil of the heart in her hand. "You said you wanted this on the inside of your bicep, right?"

I nod as I lay back on the table, and I extend my arm out for her. Carter sits down on her stool, rolling over to me before holding the edges of the stencil between the pads of her thumb and index finger on each of her hands. Tilting her head to the side, she tries different positions before it, and I see her eyes light up when she gets it right. She lays the stencil down - smoothing it over to make sure it all gets on my skin.

"Have a look," she says as she pulls it off, and I stand from the table one more to take a look at it in the full length mirror.

I move my arm in all different directions to make sure none of them make it look funny before I nod. "That's perfect, Carter. It looks great."

Once I lay back down on the table, she grabs her gun and scoots as close as possible to me. "You ready?

"Yep," I sigh, looking at the ceiling as I hear the buzzing start.

It's only a few seconds later that I feel that familiar scratch across my skin, and I grimace slightly from how long it's been since I've felt it. I take in a deep breath as I can tell she's trying to warm me up a little bit before she really gets started.

"Doing okay?" Carter checks in on me, giving my upper bicep a reassuring squeeze as she dips back into the ink for a moment.

"Yeah, feels like I remember," I say, earning a small giggle from her.

"Well, that's good then, yeah?"

I nod as she starts up again, and it's silent between the two of us for a while before Carter speaks.

"I've had the heart finished since before...everything," she whispers, and I move my head to the side so I can look at her properly. Her eyes stay focused on her work, but she flicks them up to meet mine for just a moment. "I was going to show you the drawing that night, sort of as a surprise present, I guess."

It's as if I almost feel my heart actually crack in my chest at her confession. I couldn't believe that she had finished it up back then, but I also couldn't believe that she had held onto it for this long. Part of that gives me hope that she was just waiting for the opportunity for us to reconnect at some point, like we have now.

I had thought about her so much since the last time I saw her, but she had grown even heavier on my mind since I started therapy. My therapist really helped me work through my feelings, and the more I worked through them, the more I realized just how much I had fucked up with Carter. I've beaten myself up time, and time again while looking back on how I treated her, and how I allowed her to be treated.

The image of her standing in that groom's suite, begging me to reconsider my marriage is forever engraved in my mind. Her body trembling with her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cowered away from me. I thought that night I found her outside at the formal was going to be the worst I'd ever seen her, and the fact that I was the cause of an even worse reaction than that...I'll never be able to forgive myself. My therapist has told me time and time again that I needed to find it within me to do so, but I don't see how it's possible.

"And I'd really like to talk everything over at some point," Carter speaks up again, but now she keeps her sight down, and off my face. "But for now, I think it would be nice to just get to know each other again, if that's something you're okay with. Once we feel like we're in a comfortable place, then I'd like for us to be able to put it all out on the table. I have a lot I feel like I need to say, and a lot I need to ask."

"I think I'd really like that too, Carter," I agree, reaching my hand out when she stops tattooing me for a moment. I wrap my palm around her forearm, rubbing my thumb against her smooth skin. "You don't know how nervous I've been these past couple of weeks. I was just holding onto hope that you would give me another chance."

"I still have a lot of hurt feelings," she explains as I drop my hand to allow her to start up her work again. "But I also didn't handle things in the right way. I was hoping that seeing each other would open up that opportunity for us to reconnect."

Looking up at me again for just a second, we give each other soft smiles.

It's a couple hours later that Carter finishes up my tattoo completely. My bicep now felt like a bunch of pins and needles, but I didn't want to have to come back for another session. I've always been one to complete my tattoos in one session, if possible. Carter had already let me look at the tattoo, and put the second skin on it before I walked over to the coat rack to grab my jumper.

"Here, let me help you," I hear her say after she disposes of her gloves. "Go ahead and put your arms in, and I'll help pull it down."

I do as she asks, keeping my arms above her head, and only starting to lower them down as I feel her pulling the hem of my jumper down as well. Once it was on properly, she gave me a nod. "I'm going to just clean up really quick since you were my last one of the day, and then I'll meet you at the counter, okay?"

I head over to the lobby section of the shop and sit down on one of the couches, beginning to scroll through my phone as I wait for her. I can hear her holding conversations with a couple of people around the shop over the next few minutes, and finally I hear her calling my name.

Walking over to the counter, she tells me my total, and my eyebrows narrow. "Carter, you know that's not right," I tell her with a small laugh.

"Friends and family discount," she shrugs, giving me a smug smile.

I roll my eyes, but I allow her to charge me what she wants - handing my card over. Once everything was settled, we head out of the shop, and I point to my car that's parked across the street. "That's me."

"That's me," she mimics, pointing to her car that was just a little ways down on the same side of the street.

"I'll walk you."

Carter nods, and I rest my hand against the small of her back to keep her on the inner part of the sidewalk as we make our way towards her car. Once there, she turns to face me, a tender look on her face.

"It was nice getting to tattoo you again," her voice is warm as she speaks, and I feel my stomach fluttering with how sincere she sounds. "I haven't tattooed a friend since Kieran, and that was a couple of years ago, so this was wonderful."

"Well, I'm glad it was you that could give me another tattoo after so long," I tell her, reaching out to rub my hand up and down her arm for a moment before dropping it.

"I'll text you, and maybe we can plan on meeting up to do something sometime next week? The weather is getting warmer, so I was hoping to spend some more time outside."

"Yeah, that sounds great. We can definitely figure something out," I respond, biting down on my bottom lip.

"Before I go, I wanted to give you this," Carter says before digging into her bag, much like she did before she walked away from me at the cafe. "Wait to read it until you're in your car but...I think this explains what I felt all those years ago a little better than I did back then, and how I've felt going forward."

Looking down at the postcard, I see that there's now a line illustration of a nightingale instead of a daffodil. "This drawing is beautiful, Carter."

"Thank you," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before clearing her throat. "I'm sorry to dart off so quickly, but I promised my dad I'd come over and make us some dinner tonight."

"Don't apologize, we practically spent the afternoon together."

We step forward to wrap ourselves in another embrace - all while being mindful of my fresh tattoo.

"You smell the same," I hear Carter whisper after a moment, and I look down to see her snuggling her nose into my chest. "I've missed it."

Swallowing harshly, I force away the tears that want to spring in my eyes. "You smell the same too. I've missed it...missed you so, so much."

I take a chance, and I press my lips against the crown of her head. I feel Carter's cheeks round out against my torso before she's looking up at me with a wide smile. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon."

We separate, and I stand on the sidewalk to make sure she takes off safely. She waves at me through her window as she drives off, and I make my way over to my car. I'm immediately pulling up google on my phone to look up the symbolism of a nightingale, and the tears I had just wished away come crawling back.

"Found in Persian culture, through poetry and music, the nightingale has been celebrated as a symbol of unrequited love."

I press my tongue against the inside of my cheek as I look out my window, feeling moisture beginning to wet my face. My hand shakes as I continue to hold the postcard, but I can't look back down at it. I'm scared of what the other side, the quote, will bring.

I give myself a moment or two, sniffling softly before I look down - flipping the card over.

"No matter how much you wish you could, you cannot control how another person feels and loves.

Just because someone fails to see your worth, it doesn't make them a bad person, and it doesn't mean you are unlovable. It simply means that they aren't meant for you.

You should never have to spend your days and nights wondering if you are good enough for somebody. You are enough. You are more than enough for the right person.

Always remember that your happiness comes first. Focus on loving yourself, really loving yourself and you will see your value and find the strength to walk away from unrequited love.

Weeks, months, years will pass and you'll look back and wonder why on earth it took you so long to see that all along you deserved everything you always wished you had.

- CHARLOTTE FREEMAN"

⋆★★⋆

It's a Saturday night, and I've been sitting outside of Carter's house for the past fifteen minutes - just staring down at the bundle of daffodils in my hand. My mind is going a mile a minute, and I know I have to calm myself down before I go up and knock on her door. I got here early for this specific reason. I knew that I would probably work myself up, and sure enough, I have.

This was the first time either of us had agreed to meet at one of our houses. Over the past three and a half months, we've been seeing each other only in public spaces.

I was more than okay with us only meeting out in public. We both made the decision to take things slow as we rebuild our relationship with each other, and we both know that this relationship will more than likely be similar to our previous one, but there's no way it could ever be the same.

I think the scariest thing for me was that I found myself falling back in love with Carter easily.

Through therapy I realized that I never really stopped loving her in that way, I had just suppressed my feelings because I thought she didn't feel the same.

Going to therapy made me remember a lot of things I had pushed to the back of my mind when it came to the transition of my feelings for Carter into my feelings for Gwen. I had forgotten about how anytime Carter was out of the house, Gwen was telling me that she was out with a boy. I thought that Carter was hiding a relationship from me, and subconsciously, that's why I hid my relationship with Gwen. It wasn't until years later that I found out that Gwen had been feeding me lies.

Bottom line - Gwen manipulated me our entire relationship.

I know I'm not completely innocent, and that her manipulation isn't a complete excuse for the way that I acted, but it made me realize just how much she lied to me. She did anything she could to keep her hooks in me until she knew she had me fully secured, and then it was already too late with Carter. I had already separated myself from her to keep myself from getting hurt even further, and I had already started to fall in love with Gwen.

I know that I loved Gwen at one point. I know that I was still in love with her even when she hit me, but I know I fell right out of love with her the night she could've caused me irreparable damage.

Fuck, I didn't need to be thinking about all of this right now.

Tucking my chin to my chest, I suck in a deep breath as I lift my hand to pinch at the bridge of my nose. Reminiscing on the past in this very moment wasn't helping me calm down.

Instead I try to focus on the positive. Carter somehow found it in her heart to give me a second chance, and our reconnecting felt different to than I had anticipated. I could tell by the way she looked at me that she felt the same way too. We exchange small intimate touches every now and then, but that's as far as it's gone. I've also noticed that we're a lot more flirty with each other than we used to be. It's almost as if we were a couple that had separated, and now we're trying to figure out if time apart could make it work again. It didn't feel like we were necessarily rebuilding just a friendship.

It wasn't until this past Tuesday when we were sitting on a bench in the park that I asked her to dinner.

Carter had been talking about getting a corn-dog from this street cart for a few days, and I finally suggested to her that we just go and get them together. She was more than ecstatic when I told her that I wanted to go too. She got a regular corn-dog, and I got one with a plant-based hotdog inside. While we sat on the bench, her legs were draped over my lap as she leaned against the arm rest, ankles crossed one over the other.

Her heart shaped sunglasses were perched on her nose as I traced my fingertips up down one of her legs as we ate.

"I'm so happy right now," she said, using her hand to cover her mouth full of food as she spoke - as if she couldn't wait to tell me. "Thank you for coming with me, Harry. We picked such a good day too. It's beautiful out."

I swallowed the bite I was chewing before responding to her. "Of course I was going to come with you. I had to see the look on your face once you finally got your corndog."

The giggle that left her warmed my heart as her nose scrunched up, and I gave her thigh a squeeze. Humming, she let her free hand travel down to wrap around my fingers, and we remained like that for the rest of the time that we ate.

We stayed at the park for about an hour total, and it wasn't until we were about to get up and leave that I finally grew the balls to ask her what I had been wanting to ask her for a few weeks at that point.

That's when I asked her about grabbing dinner together, something we hadn't done yet.

"Yeah, of course we can grab dinner sometime. That would be fun!"

I remember my palms immediately going clammy, and Carter could instantly tell that something was wrong.

"Hey, are you okay?" Her palm found my back, and she began to move in circles.

"Well...I just-" I stumbled over my words like an idiot, finally clearing my throat when I felt like I had myself somewhat together. "How would you feel about considering it a date?"

Even though Carter had her sunglasses on, the lenses were pretty transparent, and I watched as her eyes went wide - her pink lips parting in surprise. I immediately had to look away from her, and I looked down at my hands as I nervously rubbed them together.

"Sorry...I'm sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes tight as if that was going to just make what I had asked disappear. "Forget it. We don't have to. I just ruined this whole fucking thing."

It was a few seconds later that I felt Carter's hand leave my back, and soon her palm was cradling one of my cheeks. She turned my face so I was looking at her - causing me to reluctantly open my eyes.

"It can be a date, Harry," she told me, and I instantly felt a knot form in my stomach. It wasn't out of anxiousness though, it was out of excitement. "I'm a little nervous given the past, but I'd like for it to be a date too."

When we separated that day, she let me give her a kiss on the cheek, and it made me tingle all over when I saw her face flush.

We haven't really spoken about our feelings at all, and we haven't discussed any expectations of each other either. I have a feeling that both of those things are bound to come up tonight. That's probably another reason why I'm so incredibly nervous.

My eyes glance over at the clock, and I see that it's now the time that I told her I would pick her up.

I suck in a deep breath as I get out of the car, my hands shaking as I keep a grip on the daffodils, and I head up to her door. Lifting my finger, I ring her doorbell before taking a small step back so that I'm not crowding her immediately.

The door opens after a moment, and once Carter's eyes connect with mine, a large smile takes over her features. "Hi, H," she says. She looks me over for a moment before looking back at my face. "You look so handsome."

It's as if my breath was sucked from my lungs when she opened that door. The dress she has on fits her perfectly, and she has her hair slightly curled so that it bounces a bit as she moves. I couldn't help but internally laugh out in adoration when I saw she had all black Vans old skools platforms on her feet.

Some things never change.

"Wow, Carter," I breathe, shaking my head. "You look gorgeous."

Carter's face flushes just like it did the other day. "I'm in protest against heels at the moment, so I hope Vans are okay," she says before her eyes drop to the flowers in my hand.

"Oh!" I exclaim with a chuckle, extending them out to her. "These are for you. I was trying to figure out what flowers to get, but these seemed rather fitting."

"Hmm," she hums, giving me a playful grin. "I wonder why."

She peeks over her shoulder for a moment before looking back to me. "I'm just going to put these in some water and then we can go. I'd invite you in, but I know Ichabod's hair is going to cling to you if you come inside and he rubs on you."

"That's alright, take your time," I tell her with a nod.

She shuts the door, and it's only a minute or so later that she's stepping back out. A thin black cardigan is now on her arms, and she has a purse draped over her shoulder. She locks up her door before facing me. "Ready?"

"Ready," I say, placing my hand on her lower back as we make our way to my car.

I open the passenger door for her, which she thanks me for, and I make sure she's in securely before I shut her in. My hands continue to shake as I head over to the driver's side, and I get in before starting the car up.

I can see Carter looking over at me out of the corner of my eye, and she almost instantly reaches out to take one of my hands off the wheel.

"Why are you shaking so bad?" She holds my one hand in both of hers - lazily intertwining one set of her fingers with mine while the fingertips on the other trace over the back of my hand. "We don't have to go anymore if it's going to make you so nervous, Harry. I don't want you to be-"

"No," I shake my head quickly, squeezing my fingers around hers. "I mean, yes, I'm nervous, but I don't want to not do this because of that. I've just...I'm really bad about getting in my head these days, and I just overthink things. I've been overthinking all day."

Carter frowns, and she brings my hand up - pressing her lips against my knuckles. "If it helps at all, I'm really glad that we're doing this. I've been looking forward to it since you asked on Tuesday."

"Yeah?" I ask, feeling her confession ease my nerves some.

"Yeah," she nods, biting down on her bottom lip.

"I can never thank you enough for agreeing."

Carter's eyes wander over my face for a moment before settling back on my own. "I told you...I've missed you. It's been long enough that I'm okay to let myself be open with you again, and I'm sure we'll touch on that more later, but I just know I'm ready for this. Whatever this ends up being after we talk everything out. Okay?"

"Okay," I bring her hand up to my mouth just like she did to me earlier - mimicking her same actions.

I let my lips rest against her skin a little longer than she did mine before I lower our hands back down. I go to pull my hand away so that I can place both hands on the wheel, but Carter tightens her grip. "Can I keep holding it?"

My heart palpitates in the best way at her question, and I feel warmth in my face. "Yeah, of course."

"Okay, good," she giggles before dropping my hand into her lap.

I bite back a larger smile as I put my car in drive, and I start heading towards the restaurant where I had made us reservations for tonight.

Music plays quietly in the car as we make our way down the road, and Carter and I keep stealing glances at each other as we do so. Eventually she moves her other hand down to completely encompass the one she had already been holding once again, alternating between smoothing her fingertips over my knuckles, and then the back of my hand.

I haven't had contact like this from someone in so long, and it feels nice. The tenderness of her touches makes me feel wanted and comforted all at the same time - two feelings that Carter used to bring me previously before everything went to shit.

Our conversation on the way there was light, just asking how our work week went, and she was telling me about a large back piece she had just finished up on a client.

Once we arrive at the restaurant, I open the passenger side of the car for Carter. Instead of letting me just place my hand on her back, she takes my hand in hers - lacing our fingers together. I stroke my thumb along the back of her hand as we head inside, and I can see that Carter is a bit shocked at the place I've picked out.

"Harry," she says, looking up at me with worry. "This place is so nice, and I'm wearing Vans. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you wanted to wear Vans," I respond, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, they look cute on you, and if they want to say something about them, then I don't want to give them my business anyway."

Carter shakes her head briskly at me as we approach the host stand. "Two for Styles."

The host nods and grabs a couple of menus before we're guided to our table. I smile when I see they've remembered to set it up the way I wanted, with two candles lit in the middle, and two glasses of red wine already poured.

I can hear Carter gasp behind me, but she doesn't say anything yet as I pull her chair out for her to sit.

The host places the menus down as I sit as well, and I thank them before they walk away. I keep my eyes down on the menu that was placed in front of me, but I can feel Carter's on me.

"Harry," she speaks up after a moment, sweetness laced throughout her tone. "Did you have them do this for us?"

I nibble on my bottom lip before nodding. "Yeah, I did. I just wanted tonight to be special. For you...for us."

Carter reaches out across the table, curling her hand around mine. "Thank you so much. This was a nice surprise, and this restaurant is beautiful."

She gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away, and we begin to properly look over our menus.

"What are you thinking?" Carter asks, and I tilt my head to the side.

"I'm eying the pasta pescatore, how about you?"

"I think I'll do the lobster and mushroom risotto," I look up as she twirls a curl around her finger - lips pursed to the side.

I'm completely captivated by the way the candlelight hits her face, capturing her beauty in a way that has my stomach swirling.

After a moment, a waiter comes over with a couple of waters to accompany our wine, and he asks if we're ready to order.

"You first," I say, gesturing my hand towards, and Carter smiles.

We each order our food, and the waiter heads off as we grab our glasses of wine. I clear my throat, my other hand gripping to my knee as Carter's round eyes stare at me.

"This might seem silly, but I just wanted to say a couple of things," I chuckle nervously.

Carter gives me a reassuring nod before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

"First off, I want to thank you again for saying 'yes' to dinner, and especially having it be a date. I'm really trying to be more straightforward with my feelings in general, but especially when it comes to you now that we've reconnected," I start off, my fingers curling tighter to my glass as I feel I could drop it at any moment. "I also wanted you to know that these past few weeks of getting to see you again have been the best weeks I've had in the past two years or so.

"Like you said before, I know there's still a lot that's left unsaid on both of our parts, but I really don't know what I would do if I lost you again, Carter. Losing you the first time completely changed me as a person, even though I didn't see it at the time. But with that being said, if you realize that this isn't going to work out, and this isn't what you want, then you walk away whenever you want. Put yourself first - always."

Carter blinks at me, and I can tell that I've caught her off guard with my words, but telling her that the ball was in her court when it came to us was something I needed her to know. I didn't want her to let the guilt of knowing I'd be upset to lose her again be the cause of her putting herself into something she didn't want.

"Wow, Harry," she opens and closes her mouth a couple times - clearly trying to figure out how to respond. "These few weeks have been really great for me too, and like I told you, I've missed you. I allowed for this to be a date just as much as you did, so I hope you don't feel like you forced me to label it as that.

As of right now, I'm more than happy with how things are going, but I can't lie to you and say that may change after we really talk things out. I don't think it will, but I just want you to know that's a possibility, okay?"

I move my head in agreement with her words. "Of course, Carter - of course."

I watch her shoulders deflate, as if she's let out a sigh of relief before we're both extending our glasses forward - clinking them together.

"To us," she speaks up first, a large smile back on her face.

"To us."

We each sip our wine, and she hums out in appreciation. "Oh my god, Harry," she licks over her bottom lip. "This wine is delicious."

"Yeah? I went over their selection online, and I tried to pick out what I remembered you liking."

"It's perfect. Thank you."

I watch as she looks around the restaurant a bit before looking back over to me. "Well, I guess now is as good of a time as any to start, huh?"

"If you're ready, then absolutely," I reassure her.

"I should probably start with me figuring things out about my mom and Gwen since that all ties in to how everything happened, especially with us," she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before continuing. "One of the first things my therapist had me focus on was my emotions towards them, but most importantly their emotions towards me.

"She had me write down times throughout my life where my mom yelled at me, which wasn't often, but I came to the conclusion that she only ever did when it involved something with Gwen. Whether it be me trying to play with one of her toys, or if Gwen and I were fighting about her borrowing something of mine when Gwen knew that I would be needing it, my mother always took Gwen's side - even when she was clearly wrong."

Reaching forward, she takes a large sip of wine before she continues. "I also realized that my mom and Gwen have extremely jealous tendencies. So, when the wedding came around, it was such a big thing for Gwen, and the way they treated me just magnified. They wanted it to go perfectly for her, and they didn't want me to ruin it. That's when I became their pin cushion."

I grimace at her use of words, but I know she's not wrong.

"Also, I don't know if Gwen ever told you, but she caught me leaving the groom's suite that day," she places her hands on the table, and I can see they're slightly trembling. "She told me she knew of my feelings for you, that she always did, and she couldn't believe I told you on your wedding day of all days. That's when she said she never wanted to see me again, and for me to stay away from you both. I listened to her because I knew you loved her, and I knew she made you happy, and I didn't want to take that away from you."

My heart aches at her words. Gwen never told me she had seen her after her confession to me. I didn't know that she ever knew that Carter had feelings for me.

"She didn't tell me," I whispered, shaking my head.

"I also need to apologize to you, Harry. I need to tell you sorry for never telling you my feelings sooner, and I also need to tell you I'm sorry for when I chose to tell you about them," I can see tears are now gathering in Carter's eyes, and she takes a minute to collect herself before she's blinking them away.

"I never wanted to tell you about my feelings because I didn't want to ruin what we had, but it seems that's exactly what I did because I waited so long. Maybe if I had just kept my mouth shut, none of this would've ever happened, and I-"

"Carter, I'm going to stop you right there," I butt in, not being able to listen to her blaming herself in this way. "Do not apologize to me for that. I won't let you blame yourself for what happened. There's only one person to blame for our friendship falling apart, and that's me."

Carter keeps quiet as I continue. "I should've never let Gwen keep me from you like she did, and I should've never let her treat you the way she did. Things would've been different if I had put my foot down. If I had refused to let her wedge her way between us, but I didn't do that.

"She fed me lies our entire relationship when it came to you. She knew I liked you, she revealed that to me during our divorce process. Whenever you were out of the house hanging out with Kieran, she told me you were seeing different guys, and I don't know why I believed her. Then she started dropping hints that she liked me. One thing led to another, and it just happened. The last thing she really lied to me about was her trying to contact you after the wedding. She led me to believe that she was trying just as hard as I was to reach you, and in our last big fight, I found out that wasn't the case."

Now I'm the one reaching for my glass of wine, taking two large sips. "I realized in therapy that I never truly lost my feelings for you, Carter. I just shoved them down, and I suppressed them once I started having feelings for Gwen. I convinced myself that they were gone because how could I love two people at once? But, my love for you was never like my love for Gwen. The love I had for you..."

I swallow harshly before I look down at my lap, shaking my head. It's only a second later that I feel the tips of Carter's fingers brushing over my knuckles.

"Tell me, please."

Looking back up, I meet her eyes, and I can tell she's pleading with me to be honest. It was hard to act like I was talking about the past. My love for has only grown more since being around her again.

"It was everything. Even if I didn't think it was reciprocated, and even though I didn't even tell you about it."

Carter opens her mouth to speak, but we're interrupted by the waiter setting out dishes down in front of us. We each thank him, placing our napkins into our laps as we grab our silverware.

"Let's just enjoy our meals for now," I reach out to grab her hand, and I kiss the back of it quickly. "And if we want to talk more later, we can."

"Okay," Carter breathes, and we both begin to dig into our food.

The rest of our time at the restaurant consists of us talking about much lighter topics while stealing bites of each other's food.

Now we're sitting outside of her house in my car, my hand placed on the inside of Carter's knee as she twists my rings around my fingers.

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about before I head in?" Carter rests her head back against the headrest, looking over at me.

I know that what I'm about to bring up is serious, but it's something that's eaten away at me for too long.

"I didn't want to ask in the restaurant, and you can decline to answer if it's too personal, but it's something that's been weighing on me. Did...did Gwen ever get physical with you when you guys would argue?"

I'm hesitant to look at her, but I'm met with narrowed brows on her face. "I mean, we used to wrestle as little kids, but when we got older, no," she shakes her head. "Why? Did she get physical with you?"

I stay silent as I look down to stare at my steering wheel, and I can hear Carter inhale sharply when I don't answer after a moment.

It's not even a second later that I feel her arms around me, and she's pulling my face into her neck. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I feel tears welling in my eyes as I lift a hand to wrap around her wrist. I feel her nails scraping against my scalp to comfort me as her other hand caresses my back.

"You didn't deserve that. You'll never deserve that."

We stay in the same position for a while as she continues to comfort me silently before she speaks again. "You know that right? That you didn't deserve that?"

I nod, sniffling as I lift my hand up - pushing the tears off my cheeks with the heel of my palm as I sit back. "I know. I know I didn't deserve it."

"Good," Carter says softly, and I can see the worry behind her eyes as she stares at me.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she grabs her purse that was on the floorboard, and she shuffles through it. She looks back over to me, and that's when I see she has another postcard in her hand. "I had two of these in my bag tonight. I figured this whole thing could've gone one way or the other. "

She extends the card out to me, and I take it from her. I look down to see a line illustration of a butterfly on the front. I know that she did this on purpose because we each have butterfly tattoos, and it has me feeling hopeful.

"Will this quote tell me which way it went?" I ask her with a soft chuckle, and it causes her to giggle as well while she shrugs.

"Flip it over and find out."

Taking in a deep breath, I flip the postcard over, and I read over the quote a few times to really take it in.

"Rewinding time is not possible, but "do-over's" are. Sometimes we get another chance to do something right the second time that we got wrong the first time." - UNKNOWN

I look back over to her after a moment, and her expression is one filled with such kindness that I feel like I could cry again. "In case that wasn't enough to tell you...would you like to come in?"

My eyebrows raise, as I'm a bit shocked that she was asking me to do so, but I didn't give her any time to think that I was hesitating. "Yeah, yes, please," I laugh nervously, and she tilts her head.

"Come on then."

We both get out of the car, and we head up to the door which she unlocks. As we walk inside, she flips on some lights, and I instantly hear small thumps coming from her hallway while we take off our shoes.

"Hello, Mr. Crane," Carter coos as she lowers herself down to pet the petite black cat that's come to greet her. "This is Ichabod."

The image in front of me has my heart completely bursting from how sweet it is, and I follow Carter's actions - bending down to be closer to them both. "Hello Ichabod, I'm Harry."

I hold my hand out, and Ichabod sniffs it for a bit before rubbing back across the front of Carter's legs for a while, but he keeps his eyes on me.

"He's really nice, I promise," Carter says as she continues to rub over his back, and eventually Ichabod makes his way over to me.

I begin to scratch underneath his chin, and behind his ears as Carter stands.

"Do you want some more wine?"

Glancing over, I watch as she walks into her kitchen - loose red curls bouncing as she goes.

"Yeah, I'll have another glass," I tell her, giving Ichabod a few more pets before standing up myself. "Just one is probably good though considering I have to drive."

"What do you think I'm trying to do? Get you drunk so you have to stay over?" Carter looks at me over her shoulder with a shiteating smirk, and I shake my head at her. Knowing that the atmosphere around us has turned playful, I decide to feed into it as well.

"I don't know," I shrug before crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against one of her counters. "Are you?"

Carter hums as she turns back around to grab a bottle of wine out of her wine fridge, and then she walks over to the cabinet housing her wine glasses. "I mean, would you staying be the absolute worst thing in the world?"

My adrenaline perks up slightly at her words, and I quickly clear my throat. "No, I-I don't think that, I just didn't know-"

"Harry," Carter walks over to the counter next to the one I was leaning against - setting the glasses down. "I was just kidding. You didn't think I was that easy, did you?"

Groaning, I look up to the ceiling as I smile.

She's really busting my balls here.

"I'm not used to being one step ahead of you when it comes to picking on each other," she bumps her hip against mine to have me looking down at her again. "I guess I'm making up for all those years you had me blushing like an idiot."

"Yeah, now that's me," I laugh, leaning down to pinch at her waist - causing her to yelp.

Carter eventually uncorks the bottle, and she pours us each a glass of wine as we move over to sit on the couch. Ichabod makes his way over to the cat tree in the corner of the living room, and he makes his way to the top tier - quickly curling into himself and falling asleep.

"He's so cute," I compliment her. "How old is he?"

"Just a little over a year old," she says, looking over to the cat tree for a moment before looking over to me. "I actually found him outside of the shop I was working at while I was gone."

"You're kidding."

Carter shakes her head, swallowing down her sip of wine before continuing. "It was early spring, and it was raining so bad outside. It was chilly, and windy on top of that. I was closing up the shop, and I went around back to throw the trash into the dumpster before getting in my car, and I could hear him crying underneath it after I threw the bag inside.

"I pulled my phone out so I could use my flashlight, and I looked under, and there he was. He was by himself, and shaking, and I knew I couldn't leave him. To be honest, I didn't think I'd have the time to take on a kitten, so I had every intention of keeping him for a few days to get him better before taking him to the shelter. As you can see, I got way too attached and that didn't happen. It worked out for the both of us though. I don't know what I would do without him. He's my little buddy."

"You know it's funny, I had been contemplating getting a cat myself before I ran into you," I tell her. "Now you've kind of convinced me that I need one. The house is so quiet by myself."

"I definitely get what you mean. I've lived alone since I first moved away, and now I couldn't imagine not hearing his little paws on the floors, or hearing him eating his food in the kitchen while I'm sketching at my dining table. You should get one, H," she says, tapping her foot against my thigh. "They're a lot of fun."

"Yeah, I think I might," I say, dropping my hand to wrap it around her foot, running the pad of my thumb over the arch of it. "Would you come to the shelter with me?"

"Of course! I'd love to. Plus, I think I should have a say considering they're going to be around Mr. Crane. I need to make sure they're a suitable candidate for his friendship," she smirks, taking another sip of wine.

"That's fair enough."

It's quiet for a moment before she makes a small noise as she swallows her sip - as if she's remembered something. "Hold on, I'll be right back."

Carter sets her wine glass down on the table, and she slips down the hallway for a moment. I can't help but smile to myself as she's gone - not believing that I'm in her home with her right now, us sharing wine together and talking as if nothing has changed.

This is all I've wanted for so long.

I hear her coming back after a minute or so, and she sits down while passing me a piece of paper. As I study the piece of paper, I see she picks her wine glass back up, and she moves to drape her legs over my lap like she did in the park the other day.

"I drew that while I was in therapy," she said, tapping her fingertips against her glass. "She told me to draw something that provided me comfort in the past, and I came up with this. While I was drawing it, I was thinking of how you used to always hold my hand when we were out with friends if you could tell I wasn't having a good time, or if something was making me anxious. I've been meaning to bring it to show you when we've been hanging out, I just kept forgetting."

My eyes study the drawing, and I wait to ask what immediately comes to mind. "Do you think you could tattoo this on me?"

Carter's eyes look like they're about to bulge out of her head once I look back to her. "What?"

"I really like it, and you drew it perfectly. It reminds me of us too," I nod. "I'd really like for you to tattoo it on me, if you're comfortable with that."

"Harry, you know I'm always more than happy to ink you up. I'm just a little shocked - that's all. I'm more than comfortable with you getting it."

"Maybe in a couple months? I'm thinking on the back of my arm," I tilt my head to the side as I continue to stare at the drawing of two hands holding.

"I think that will look really good, H."

I only intended on staying at Carter's for maybe an hour at the most, but as she indulged in another glass of wine, I decided to stay so she could tell me all about the city she had been living in before moving back home. It was interesting to hear about the life she had without me in it, and I was actually able to listen to her talk about it without feeling a sadness in my chest.

I have her back now, and that's what matters.

Looking over to the clock, I can see it's nearing midnight, and I know it's time to go home.

"Well, I should probably get going," I sigh as I finish up my glass of wine. Only having the one glass at dinner, and then the two glasses here, I was more than fine to drive - especially with pasta sitting in my stomach.

"Oh, only if you're sure," Carter says, setting her almost finished wine down on the coffee table as I stand up. "You're not keeping me up or anything."

"I know, but I don't want to overstay my welcome," I chuckle, walking to set my empty wine glass in the sink in her kitchen.

When I walk back over Ichabod hops off his cat tree and follows me towards the door, circling my feet as he looks up at me.

"I think somebody doesn't want you to leave," Carter giggles as she walks closer to me, fiddling with her fingers behind her back.

"I'm sure I'll see you again soon, bud," I kneel down to give Ichabod a few head scratches before I stand up and look over at Carter. "Do you think that we could do this again?"

"Harry," Carter closes all space between us as she drops her hands to the side. "Have I not made it obvious enough that I more than enjoyed myself tonight? I would absolutely love to do this again."

I let out a small laugh of relief, scratching the back of my neck for a moment while looking down at my feet. Pursing my lips to the side, I look back up at Carter. "Can I kiss you?"

I can tell my request takes Carter by surprise, and I immediately feel like an idiot. "Shit, I'm sorry," I apologize. "I didn't mean to be so forward. You just look so beautiful, and I had such a good time that I thought maybe-"

I'm cut off when I feel Carter's hands cupping my cheeks as she pushes herself on her tiptoes, her taking the complete initiative to have her lips meet mine.

After a moment, I hum in satisfaction, and I drop my arms to wrap them around her. One of them wraps around her waist, while the other curls to the middle of her torso - my hand pressing against her shoulder blades to keep her flush against me. Carter is much shorter than me, and I can tell she's struggling to stay on her toes, so I gently lift her off the floor just a bit using the strength in my arm around her waist - causing her to squeal against my lips.

"Stay," Carter whispers, as she pulls away, her eyes dancing over my face. "Please stay."

My mouth runs dry when I realize exactly what she's saying, and I don't hesitate to give her a nod. "Okay, I'll stay."

Carter smiles, and I reach down to have both arms around her waist before I'm pulling her up higher. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her legs around my hips, as she leans down to reconnect our lips. "Bedroom is at the end of the hall," she mumbles against them.

I follow her orders, carrying her with ease down the hallway until we're in her room. After a few more moments of letting our lips mold against one another, I lower her down so that she's standing in front of me again.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"I'm sure," Carter says as she takes a step back, peeling her cardigan off her shoulders. "Take your clothes off."

My cock twitches in my pants at her words, and it takes a minute for my body to catch up with my mind. I pull my vest off and toss it to the side before I start to undo the buttons of my dress shirt. I watch as she reaches up to undo the ribbon tied at the top of her dress, pulling it so that it loosens, and she's able to slip her arms out of the material. She pauses for a minute with her hand pressed against her chest to still keep her dress up, watching me with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

I shrug my shirt off before I reach down to my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them - leaving me in just my briefs.

Carter drops her dress, and my breath catches in the back of my throat when I see that her top is completely bare - only a black lace long left on her body. "This...this isn't weird for you, is it?"

I shake my head as I walk forward, my eyes shamelessly roaming over her. I'm taking her all in, as if she could disappear, or like I could wake at any moment - like this was all a dream.

"It's not weird at all," I tell her honestly, and Carter reaches out to wrap her hands around my wrists.

Her head tilts to the side as she moves me around until my hands are on her full breasts, and I sigh as I run the pads of my thumbs over her pebbled nipples. She gasps while throwing her head back - her eyes slipping shut.

Hearing that sound leave her, and seeing that just the smallest touch was bringing her such pleasure, it's like something in me snaps. I walk forward to where she's back against her dresser, and her eyes shoot open.

Carter watches me as I begin to lower myself down her body, pressing kisses to her neck and over her sternum. Once I reach her breasts, I rest the undersides of them in my palms before closing my lips around one of her nipples. She lets out a breathy moan, but we don't sever eye contact. Her hands wrap around the edge of her dresser, her elbows slightly pointed up to her ceiling as I pay the same amount of attention to her other nipple.

"Harry," my name leaving her mouth has me humming against her skin, and she rolls her head on her shoulders for just a moment before her eyes are right back on mine.

Abandoning her chest, I slip all the way down so I'm kneeling in front of her as I kiss over her stomach - hooking my fingers into the sides of her thong. I still hold her eyes, silently asking for permission, and she gives me a nod. I continue to sponge kisses down her body, all while pulling her underwear down at the same time. She's squirming underneath me, and I can tell she's aching for more now.

Once her underwear hit the floor, Carter lifts one leg to step out, but when she lifts the other, I quickly wrap my hand around her ankle - throwing her leg over my shoulder as I toss her underwear to the side.

"Can I taste you, Carter?" I ask, my eyes slipping shut for the first time since I've had my hands on her - the smell of her arousal filling my nose while I latch my lips to the inside of her thigh.

"Please," she whines, and my mouth finds its way between her legs before I can even process. “Oh, god."

One of Carter's hands leaves the dresser to make its home on the back of my head as she arches into me. My tongue is immediately met with her wetness, and I groan at just how much had accrued in such a short amount of time. I lick my way back up until I'm sucking her clit between my lips, and I open my eyes to look up at her.

Her head is back as she pants into the air, her face displaying absolute pleasure as I lift my hand to massage her thigh that's resting beside my head. My touch alerts her, and she looks down at me with pink cheeks.

"Good. 'S so good," she moans deliriously before she tilts her head to the side to rest her cheek on her shoulder - eyes slipping shut again.

I move back down to lap at her dripping entrance before I plunge my tongue inside - teeth scraping over her swollen clit. A strangled, but loud "uh" leaves her as she now curls forward, and the hand on the back of my head is pushing me even further into her core while her other hand drops to grip at my shoulder not cradling her thigh.

Everything about this is causing me to leak profusely into my briefs, and I know that I'm the hardest I've been in a long time. I creep my hand up from her thigh to grip one of the rounds of her ass - feeling her skin pushing through the gaps between my fingers.

"Wait, w-wait," I hear Carter gasp, and I pull away immediately. She sees the look of worry on my face, causing her to laugh breathlessly. "You didn't do anything wrong, don't worry. I just want to make you come twice."

I close my eyes and drop a hand to my briefs to apply pressure to my throbbing bulge at her words - willing away the urge to come right then. After a moment, I feel her slip her leg off my shoulder, pulling my cheek to rest against her stomach as she runs her fingers through the top of my hair.

"Can I do that for you, Harry? Can I have you come in my mouth, and then while you recuperate, you can make me come?" She slides one hand down my back - nails grazing against my skin. "And then when I come, I'll need you inside me, and I hope you'll be hard again. I want you so bad."

I turn my face to kiss along her stomach much like I did before. I'm riddled speechless by her want for me. It had been so long since anyone had talked about me in such a way, and it was causing me to feel so many different emotions.

"Please, baby," Carter whispers, and I slowly feel her lowering her body. I blink my eyes open to see her kneeling in front of me - moving her hands to cradle my face. "Let me make you feel good."

The pet name she uses ignites a fire in me, and I wrap my arms around her to pull her forward - having her thighs straddle one of my own as I press my lips against hers. Her thumbs swipe over my cheek as we kiss, and I tangle one of my hands into the back of her hair. Our lips part to have our tongues rolling against one another which causes goosebumps to coat my skin. We make our way off the ground, but we don't let our lips disconnect as she lays me down on the bed.

My hands wander all over her body as our tongues ebb and flow, and I give her plush hips a squeeze before she's pulling away from me. She runs her lips down my body, and just like I did earlier to her, she starts pulling on the waistband of my briefs.

"Lift your hips," she tells me, and I blindly obey.

Once my briefs are down to the tops of my thighs, my prick springs out and slaps against my stomach - smearing precome onto my skin.

"Shit," Carter's mouth gapes as she stares at me, and I feel myself twitch under her gaze.

She makes quick work of getting my briefs the rest of the way down before pushing herself between my legs. She's knelt down, back arched to have her plump ass in the air - right in my line of vision.

"Fuck, Carter," I whisper, feeling myself leaking even more at the sight. "You're so sexy. I don't think I've ever been this hard."

Carter licks over her bottom lip as she wraps her hand around my dripping cock, her other hand snaking up my chest to rest over one of my pecs - her palm grazing over my taut nipple. She works the hand on my prick up to gather my precome onto her hand before she slicks it down my length. Beginning to pump me, she nuzzles her nose into the trimmed hairs framing my base.

"I can't tell you how long I've wanted this," she tells me, planting kisses all around me.

I try to keep my eyes on her for as long as possible, but the pleasure is overwhelming. If she didn't get her mouth on me in the next few seconds, I was going to end up coming all over my stomach and her hand.

"I can't believe you're even more toned than before," she plants a kiss against my balls, causing my stomach to clench. "So pretty. Everything about you is pretty. You have a pretty face, a pretty body, and a pretty cock."

Her words have me moaning as my toes curl into the fabric of her comforter. I never once would've guessed that Carter was so vocal in the bedroom, and it's causing my head to spin. She was a true vision, and I found myself so lucky to be underneath her at this very moment.

I can't help but slip my eyes shut once her mouth is on my tip, and she lowers herself halfway down my shaft before pulling back up. I find myself biting down on the insides of my cheeks as she kitten licks at my slit - resulting in more precome pouring out of me.

"Carter," I gasp, one hand gripping to the pillow case my head was resting on while the other reached out to wrap her hair around my palm. "I'm not going to last very long right now."

She kisses my tip before I feel her nudge the side of her nose against it. "That's okay. This is about you right now. If you come in five seconds, I don't care."

Carter's mouth closes against me once again, and this time she lowers herself almost all the way down. I feel the tip of her nose against my happy trail as she zig zags her tongue along the underside of my shaft, and I can feel the ball of her tongue piercing pressing against every vein in her wake.

She bobs her head up and down before she presses all the way down, and I feel her swallow around me.

"Fuck," I choke on a moan, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I try to make this last as long as possible. "You're so fucking good at this."

Carter hums in response, causing a vibration up my shaft which has my abs jumping. I now feel my orgasm truly building in my lower abdomen. She pulls up to where just my tip is in her mouth, and I flutter my eyes open to see her looking at me - wiggling her ass in the air. She keeps me stable with one hand, and she parts her lips to show me that my tip is just resting against her tongue.

She shakes her head from side to side for a moment before she focuses on rolling the ball of her piercing over the prominent vein right underneath my tip again and again.

"I'm gonna come," I strangle out, my hand tightening in her hair. "I can't hold it."

Carter holds my eyes as she closes her mouth around me again, and she uses the hand that was holding me in place to start pumping me once more. My eyes roll into the back of my head as I feel myself releasing onto her tongue, groaning out as I buck my hips up subconsciously. It causes a small squeal to leave her, and if I was in the right stand of mind I'd immediately be apologizing, but my brain has gone completely fuzzy. She guides me through my orgasm fully, and I wince in sensitivity as I feel how tight she has her lips against me to make sure none spills out.

My eyes blink open just in time to see her popping off me entirely, and I watch as she swallows - the smallest bit of my come seeping from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darts out to collect it while she begins to rub her hands up and down the tops of my thighs.

"You okay?" She asks, moving her way up my body so that she's hovering over me.

"I'm more than okay," I laugh, causing one to leave Carter as well. I wrap my hand around the back of her neck. "Come here."

I pull her down to meet my mouth again, and I hum as I taste myself on her tongue. As we kiss, I turn us over to where she's now underneath me. She hikes one of her knees up against my hip while resting her hands on the sides of my neck. Using one hand to hold up the crease of her leg, I dance my other one down between her legs.

I cup her cunt in my hand and give it a squeeze, causing her to gasp against my mouth. Smirking softly, I curl my middle and ring fingers to slip the tips of them through her drenched slit, and I'm almost certain I could already get hard again when she immediately coats my fingers in her arousal.

"You got so wet, Carter," I lick at her top lip before bumping the tip of my nose against hers. "Did getting me off turn you on that much?"

She nods, her hands beginning to roam all over my torso. "Sexiest thing I've ever seen was your face when you came just now."

"You're giving me an ego," I tell her, nipping my teeth against her jawline.

"You deserve to have one," she breathes as I feel her nails digging into my skin.

Swirling my fingertips around her entrance, I let her get accustomed to the feeling before I'm easily gliding them inside of her due to how open she already is for me. She mewls while automatically lifting her hips to meet my fingers, and I help satisfy her even more by tapping against her spongy spot.

"Yes," she whines, her chest now flush against mine - hard nipples grazing my skin. "Please, Harry, don't stop."

"I'm not going to, baby," I assure her, sucking on the junction where her neck and shoulder meet. "Not stopping until your come is covering my fingers, understood?"

"Mhmm," she lets out a high pitched hum as I begin to thrust my fingers in and out of her, making sure to continue curling them every now and again. "I understand."

Carter's heavy breathing fills the room once more as writhes underneath me. I can feel her clenching around me in what seems like intervals, and I know she's probably just as close as I was once she got her mouth on me.

"God, I can't believe I get to have you like this right now," I tell her, testing the waters to see if talking turns her on like it does for me. "Never thought this would be a reality for me. I thought I fucked up so bad that you'd never speak to me again, and now I've got you naked and open for me. I'm the luckiest man in the whole world to be here with you."

She cries out as I drop my hand from her leg to slip between our chests so I can roll one of her nipples between my index finger and my thumb. I can see a sheen of sweat forming on her hairline, and I slip a third finger into her to try to get her to her climax faster - not wanting her to feel like I was teasing too much.

"Harry," she whimpers, opening her eyes to look up at me.

"You're right there, hm?" I ask, tilting my head to the side, and I watch as he nods in response to me. "Come on, flower. Let go for me."

The old nickname I used to call her seems to be what sends her over the edge.

Carter's head tilts slightly back, and I watch as her lips part. A lewd moan starts to escape her as I feel her completely clamp down on my fingers, but I don't take my eyes off her face. She keeps her eyes on me as she comes, her orgasm coating me just like I asked as I continue to ride her through it. She wiggles her hips, as if she's trying to move away from, and that's when I remove my fingers - knowing that she's coming back down.

Her eyes watch my every move as I bring my fingers up to my mouth, sealing my lips around them as I suck them clean. I close my eyes once I have her taste on my tongue again, swallowing down a moan so I don't look absolutely pathetic.

I open my eyes to look down at Carter, and I see her smiling up at me. "Thank you," her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath. "That felt so good."

Looking down at the same time, we both see that my cock is about half hard, but I know it won't take much longer for me to get fully there when I know where this is going next. I lower myself down to kiss her body like I had before, and I take the time to really examine her skin.

"You got a lot of new tattoos," I say, giving one of her breasts a small squeeze.

"Mhmm," she hums, wrapping one hand around my forearm that was connected to the hand on her chest - rubbing her palm up and down my skin. "A pretty good amount, I'd say."

Lowering myself down onto her, I begin to press my lips over the ones that I know I haven't seen, whispering 'new' as I do so. It causes Carter to giggle as I locate each one, and she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches me closely, but her smile still shines through.

"I have another," she tells me, tapping me to lift up a bit before she flips over onto her stomach.

I look down and see ink right under the crease between one of her ass cheeks and her thigh. "Also new."

Smirking, I lean down to press my lips against that one as well as she looks at me over her shoulder. I trail my lips up just slightly, biting down playfully on her ass cheek - causing a laughter filled squeal to leave her, and I feel her lightly kicking her feet.

I lift up onto my knees, grasping her hips to flip her over once more, and I feel that I've grown fully hard again.

"You're really sure, Carter?" I ask her, and she nods.

"I've never been so sure about something before. I want you, Harry. Fuck, I need you. I think I'll cry if you're not in me in the next few minutes."

That causes me to chuckle softly. "I'm going to put on some music, is that okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

I stand up from the bed and grab my phone that's in my pants pocket. Flipping through my apps, I locate Spotify and quickly search the song I had in mind. Once I find it, I place my phone on her nightstand before crawling back over her. The intro starts, and my eyes wander over Carter's face before the vocals kick in.

"I get so lost, sometimes. Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart. When I want to run away I drive off in my car, but whichever way I go I come back to the place you are."

"Harry," she whispers as she trails her fingertips down my biceps, and I see tears filling her eyes.

"Don't cry, please," I lean down to press a kiss against each of her cheeks. "It's how I've pictured this moment for so long."

"You mean to this song?"

"To this song," I nod, reaching down to massage her hips in each of my hands. "This is how I felt about you then, and I haven't been completely honest with you because...this is also how I feel about you now too. I meant what I said earlier. You mean everything to me, Carter Adams."

"How are you going to tell me not to cry, and then say something like that?" Carter laughs, but I can hear the tears filling it.

"Sorry, I just needed to let you know," I lean down to press my lips gently against hers before pulling back just slightly. "Do you have a condom?"

"I do, but...are you okay if we don't use one? I have an IUD, and I'm clean. I got checked after my break up, and I haven't been with anyone since," she cradles my jaw in her palms, the pad of her thumb brushing over my lips. "I just really want to feel you."

"I'm clean as well," I nod, running my hands down from her hips to the outside of her thighs to pull her knees up against me once more. "I'd really like to feel you completely too, Carter."

Reaching out, I grab a pillow from the other side of the bed that she wasn't lying on, and I slip it underneath her hips to have her angled up slightly. "Good?"

"Good," she responds, and I can tell that we're both a bit nervous now that we know this is actually going to happen.

With one hand cupping her waist, I wrap my other hand around my length to guide myself to her. I allow my tip to run through her folds to collect her arousal for a moment before I'm pushing inside. My jaw goes slack, and I choke on a groan when I feel just how tight she is around me with me barely being inside.

"Oh," she moans, grasping to the creases of my arms.

I look up from where we're connected to check on Carter, and she gives me a nod - telling me silently to keep going. I'm slow as I continue to push forward, and once I'm completely inside, I hear a flooded whine leave her.

"H-Harry," she says, and she's immediately demanding my attention when I hear how much emotion is behind my name. "I love you."

Those three words that I never thought I'd hear her say to me again, at least not in context, have me crumbling.

My bottom lip trembles as I cup her cheek in my hand. "I love you too, Carter. I love you so much."

Leaning down, I connect our lips in a passionate kiss, neither of us caring as we feel our tears smearing over each other's cheeks. We stay still for a while, hands caressing each other's bodies while our tongues melt together. It was incredible how perfectly we fit together, and my heart was pounding against my chest due to the intimacy that was surrounding us in every way imaginable.

Our mouths separate with a large 'smack' bouncing off the walls, and smiles are immediately pulling at the corners of our lips.

"I'm gonna start moving, okay?"

"Okay," Carter gives my arms a squeeze, and I draw my hips back halfway before allowing myself to fill her to the brim again.

She sighs out, leaning her head to the side to press her lips against my heart tattoo. My eyes catch hers, and she sends me another soft smile. "New," she mumbles against my skin.

That small gesture has a knot forming in my throat again, but I power through. The only thing I want right now is to give her even more pleasure than I did before. I want to show her how much I love her now, and how much I loved her even before.

After a few more moments of letting her adjust, I begin to fall into a rhythm of plunging my slick cock in and out of her weeping cunt. Carter's walls flutter around me every time I'm fully sheathed back inside, and I look down to see her clit all puffy and inviting. I push one of her legs down onto the bed, and then drape the knee of her other leg over the crease of my arm. Moving onto my knees just a bit more, I begin to thrust at a new angle, and her muscles clamp down the hardest they have.

"That it, baby?" I ask, dropping my free hand to rub the pad of my thumb against her clit. I can feel it pulsing, and I know that she's close to another orgasm already.

"Jesus Christ, Harry," she groans, nails digging into my skin as I keep up my pace. "Splitting me open."

Her words have my prick twitching inside of her, and I know that I'm not going to be able to hold out as long as I want to.

I'll just have to make a promise to make it up to her in the morning.

"Yeah? Got you feeling full?"

"So full," Carter shakes her head from side to side, and her eyes are droopy. I can tell she's trying her hardest to keep them open, and on me.

"You feel so good around me, flower," I compliment, licking over my bottom lip. "Prettiest, and sweetest little pussy squeezing me. Can't get enough can you, hm?"

I watch as her body trembles underneath me, and she opens her mouth to say something, but I feel her walls tightening. Looking down, I can see her second orgasm coating my length, and that causes me to start slipping in and out of her even easier than before.

"That's a good girl," I lean down to press my lips to the corner of hers. "You're 's good for me, Carter."

Carter clutches to me, and I allow her to lift her knees to my hips again so that I can be closer to her. I pant against the side of her neck as my feel my own orgasm festering at the bottom of my spine.

"Where do you want me to come?" I ask, and she's quick to press her heels against the small of my back - forcing me to barely move in and out of her now.

"Inside, please," she begs me, and that's all it takes for me to find my second release.

I can't help but bite down on her shoulder as I pump everything I have inside of her sensitive cunt, and I hear her letting out small mewls and whimpers each time I thrust back in. Once I know she's taken everything from me, I collapse on top of her, but I'm mindful not to bare all my weight.

We cling to each other, sharing small kisses and caresses as we come down from our highs. When I finally find the strength, I push myself up onto one of my palms, my other hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Carter's ear.

"I love you," I tell her, and she smiles up at me - corners of her eyes squinting.

"I love you too."

As I hover over the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, I wonder how I could have ever been so stupid to let her slip away the first time, but I have to remind myself that's in the past. Tonight truly marks the new beginning of this relationship, and I know that it'll bring us both nothing but happiness.

I look at her, and I see not only my future, but also my soulmate. Regardless of what happened before, I know one thing is absolutely true - Carter Adams has always been the love of my life.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles ff #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles short story #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #Spotify

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intuitive-divinations · 10 months

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Hey lovelies💖! This reading is all about what your FS will be like and some places you could meet them💋. Take a few breaths and use your intuition 👁️ . Let's do this!

P.S ~ the confirmations for this pick a card can apply to you and/or your FS. Also, any channeled phrases I put in quotes “” are also phrases that you may have heard or will hear soon.

• Masterlist • • Paid Readings • • Tip Jar •

✨ Pick ~ A ~ Gif ✨

Pile 1

Channeled song for how they feel:

Awwww pile 1 you’re FS wants you so bad! They’ve been manifesting you for a long a** time. Right now they’re waiting for some cycles to close before the universe can make your paths cross. They’re bubbling with excitement at the thought of your first meeting. I’m seeing that what they “can’t take anymore” of is the waiting and anticipation. Their inner self is telling them that they can persevere. Also, a big lesson they’re learning is to not become desperate for relationships. I think that they might’ve been prone to settling for less than they deserved. Maybe even had some self-esteem / boundary issues. On the positive side I see that they’re making progress through their trial and tribulations. This is a very passionate, intense and devoted FS. I’m seeing that they won’t like to be away from you for long because they’re “losing precious amounts of time they could’ve spent with you”. Their heart aches without you near. As for how you’ll meet them, I feel that you’re going to be brought into their life. So as this person develops more self-awareness/ understanding the universe will make your path cross your FS’s. I’m getting concerts, clubs, hangouts/bars, comedy club, karaoke, downtown, out of town/ travelling as possible places to meet them!

The marvelous mrs Maisel, baking, infinity symbols, artist, sun dial, wand, luggage, suitcase, hiking, thumbs up, gardening, shovels, aprons, headscarves, red jewels, desert, cactus, cheetahs, 777, 3 hands 🖐️🖐️🖐️, sun roof, limousine, feeling wind with your hands, 70’s time period, comedian, late night talk shows

Pile 2

Channeled song for how they feel:

For your FS, pile 2 there’s no other way to say it but your FS is a R O M A N T I C ! How sweet 🍭 ! I’m feeling patience, passion, adoration, and tender affection. Attention is screaming in my head! This group is going to get a lot of attention from your FS. Constant check-ins, consistent healthy communication, words of affirmation, etc. They have all this love available for you because they understand how to refill and keep their own cup abundant! So now they can share their love with others. I’m seeing that you’re going to fall in love with how much they support you / root for you. The encouragement you get from your FS will melt your heart. Your person is the type to write you love letters and give you flowers along with them. Anything just to see you happy. You might not be used to someone supporting you / having your back. You could also have had a lot of responsibility since you were a child. This person will heal your inner child with their generous love. I see you both eventually living in a big house together. Things will start slow with your FS before you get to that point. They value “setting the mood” and perfecting the environment for everything. I’m hearing “there is a time for everything”. “Let’s take our time”. They could love planning parties or hangouts/events. I’m seeing that one of you is very clumsy. But the other will think it’s so cute and charming. A few places you could meet your FS are: museums, public gardens, historical/tourist sites, club, official legal type of building ???, speaking hall, theater, and opera, hobby stores.

Sandcastles, stars, your fs could be French, sunglasses, bell bottoms, someone has a ton of keys on their keychain, sun flowers, pixie cut/short hair, bartender, mixed drinks, grape juice, apple juice, pearl necklace, trident 🔱, arched eyebrows, mole(s) on face, Disney princesses, spilling a drink(s), vineyards, orchards, water pitcher, lanterns, French music

Pile 3

Channeled song for how they feel:

Omg pile 3 your FS is so adorable! Being with your FS is going to feel like a dream. I'm hearing its like "walking on clouds". You both will feel as if you're on "cloud 9". Your FS is going to show you how fun life can be. This is someone you can discover the world with. No matter what your person follows their heart. Their soul is optimistic and hopeful, paired with a "glass half full" mentality. Once they know where their heart stands they make plans to fulfill their desires. You might be suspicious of this relationship because of how "too good to be true" it seems. You might try looking for red flags and ironically get more suspicious when you don't find any. Relax, don't let your worries trouble you! Your relationship is going to be filled with good vibes only. You both will get along very well, seamlessly. Also, you will have a telepathic connection, from finishing each others sentences to dreaming about each other. I wouldn't be surprised if you both dream about each other before you first meet. Potential places I'm getting for your first meeting have active energy. Event centers, adventure parks, recreational parks/centers, amusement park, historical site, in a class learning a skill/sport, while travelling in a new place, outdoor competition, a celebration. I feel that there is going to be some type of element of fun/adventure and learning at the place you will meet. This person will grab your hand and take you on an adventure but you don't mind following them throughout life!

Seeing flags, photography/photographer, artist, fire placements, entrepreneurs, investor/investing, getting a new job, lottery, Calendars, cute/planners, dark hair, flower jewelry, bird baths/ fountain, ropes/nets, attractive hands, animal lover, furry boots, moss, sage, beaded jewelry, tangled headphones and shoelaces, seed bugs, bug landing on you, hourglass, shield, grim reaper, squirrels, rabbits foot

Pile 4

Channeled song for how they feel:

For this group I’m channeling a cute awkward energy! I get a nerdy vibe from this groups FS. This is totally the hot nerdy person x hot cool person trope. You’re the hot cool person. Don’t fret they’re very attractive as well but they don’t realize it for some reason. Your FS’s music taste is pretty lit, it has a lot of bass. Out of all the things to expect you wouldn’t expect them to have their type of music taste. You will feel how nervous they are around you. It’s not a bad nervousness at all, they are just REALLY interested in you. Omg you literally give them “the butterflies”! How cute! They might even stutter a little because of how nervous they are. When you first meet them, I’m hearing that you won’t consider them as a potential FS. You might actually even not notice them. LMFAO but hear me out 👂!! I get the vibe maybe your type currently isn’t nerdy. You might even be scared to break a pattern of toxic relationships because you’re afraid to be vulnerable with someone. Trust me this person will change that. They will make themselves known to you no matter how much they blush and stutter. Your FS is going to prioritize being present for you. This is a very loyal person! Like literally if you looked through their phone you’d see videos of game walkthroughs/tutorials and twitch gamers etc instead of suspicious texts with exes 😭💀. You could already be a gamer or be someone who isn’t that interested in gaming. Regardless i’m hearing you’re going to be playing some types of games together. And working together in your little game worlds. They’d totally buy you a matching console or build/create a custom gaming area beside theirs. You both will enjoy the time you spend playing together! 🥹

Seeing a mad cat, 333, berry plants/bush, whales, orcas, guardians, peace signs ✌🏼 ☮️ , blue cars, mints, purple shirt, heart, camouflage, social drinking, video edits, gamer, sims 4, wicked whims, anime, twitch streamer, call of duty, mary Jane, mirrors, 111

Pile 5

Channeled song for how they feel:

Group 5 you’re going to be your FS’s muse. You’ll be a source of inspiration for them. There’s something about observing you. They love to watch you even if you’re doing the most mundane things. It’s like they discover a new layer to you every time they observe. You’ve got the whole effortless, natural beauty vibe going on. Your person really likes it! I mean REALLY REALLY likes it. I think your beauty is what attracts their eyes and your behavior/personality keeps them interested. You're hypnotic and alluring. Potentially having a siren-like energy. Your FS is very articulate and expressive. With an ability to keep people listening to them. While you're more introverted and prefer to be in your own world. Do you know Barbie and Kens dynamic? Your FS is going to have Ken energy. They just love to be there for you in any way they can. It doesn’t matter if you’re grumpy or excited etc your person will always try to keep you smiling. I’m seeing that your FS is going to hug you and hold you a lot. Channeled meeting places/areas: museum, art/history/english class, cafe, photo shoot, photobooths, theater, coliseum, networking events for creatives, social media. As an occupation, your FS would most likely be in a creative artistic field. I see them using you as inspiration for their photographs. Or your person might be an artist and ask "can I paint you?". You could even have a book dedicated to you from your FS if they happen to be a writer. Either way, one day after admiring you for awhile you'll be asked to have your essence somehow incorporated into their creative passion. They would love to show you the beautiful person they see through their eyes!

Yellow suitcase, firetrucks, “go be it”, car accident, 777, 7777, graffiti, energy balls, reiki healing, 420, born on 4/20, artist, prominent Jupiterian, Venusian and/or Nodal placements, having to pee a lot, butterfly needles, shots/syringes, “the pot calling the kettle block”, “there’s a first time for everything ”, the name Emily, dentist appointment, dragonflies, flying planes, wearing blue, throat chakra, Matt , Lee, writer, podcasts, Hercules, cramps, soap, models

Pile 6

Channeled song for how they feel:

As I was tapping into your FS energy I felt like I was in fog💀. Your FS feels mysterious. They are the strong silent type. How can I put it ? Let’s just say your FS prefers to let their actions speak for themselves. Your FS's personal style is also very quiet in terms of colors. They'll wear slot of greys, blacks, navy blues, etc. You will probably wear more colors than them. They're very adept at managing finances. This person always wants your second opinion. They really value it. Taking your feelings into account comes naturally to them. I’m also really getting a chef vibe for some reason. One of you or both of you are foodies and love trying new yummy food. From walking around downtown and trying new food to having a romantic late night walk. Yes you’re going to be walking a lot in your relationship! A lot of your future favorite moments with your FS will be while you two are holding hands, and strolling at night. I’m seeing you both eventually get a dog together that will go out for walks with you too. How adorable ! During your walks you’ll notice their opinions. To you their opinions will be so interesting and different. Not just that but their opinions have an edge of humor to them. I’m hearing late night chuckles drifting through the night air. This is giving me Roger and Anita from 101 Dalmatians. I feel like their job will include music and/or food. Possible places you’ll meet your FS: at restaurants, wine tastings, farmers market, farm, somewhere you buy plants, garden parks, orchestra performance

Butter pecan ice cream, lollipop, ear problems, protein drinks, untied shoelaces, 101 Dalmatians movie, margarita, band, map, moonlight, hat with flowers on it, meteor shower, shooting stars, explosion, “surprise”, surprise party, initials: a p d b f t j i m, black leaf, your plant dying, Mushrooms, ukulele, things being in a set of 3, "you'll always be my baby", mel, melissa, Malcolm, Adriana, Taurus placements, passing by someone playing an instrument, mountains, crocodiles, alligators, peacocks, unicorn, werewolf, deja vu, orchestra, Tinkerbell

Thanks so much 😽 !!

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callmelola111 · 5 months

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K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot

✄ - - - - inspo track - - - - bull believer- wednesday

synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.

| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k

| ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)

a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola

In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.

Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3.

December 31st, 9:00pm:

Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no.

“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.

“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.

“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.

December 31st, 9:30pm:

A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew.

You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.

“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints.

“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it.

December 31st, 9:45pm:

Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.

You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?

December 31st, 10:15pm:

Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.

“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.

“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.

“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”

“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”

“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.

“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”

“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”

“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger.

December 31st, 10:30pm:

You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow.

“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.

“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.

“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”

Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay”

“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.

“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.

“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.

“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.

“Thank you.” was all you could say.

“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?

“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.

December 31st, 11:00pm:

You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.

“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.

“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”

“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone.

“What about… sad?”

Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth.

“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.

“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”

“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.

“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.”

You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”

“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?

“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.” Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.

“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”

“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.

“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”

Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”

Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”

“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.

“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”

Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”

“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.

December 31st, 11:15pm:

The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.

“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.

“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”

Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.

“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.

“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.

“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”

“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat.

“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.

“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock.

“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.

“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes.

“For what?”

“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.

Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts.

“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”

“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.

You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”

“Yes. Blunt.”

December 31st, 11:30pm:

And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.

“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.

You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?”

“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”

“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl.

“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”

“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw.

“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”

A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”

“What? I’m being so deadass!”

“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.

Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”

“And what does she do?”

“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.”

You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”

“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.

“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.

“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”

“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.”

“Fineee.” you drag out.

December 31st, 11:50pm:

Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.

As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy.

“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.

“Good it’s ugly anyways.”

“Fair point.”

“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”

“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark.

“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted.

“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own.

You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”

Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”

You placed a soft peck.

Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck

Another supple kiss.

“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.

FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.

January 1st, 12:01am:

“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.

The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.

“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.

You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”

“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!”

That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes.

“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.

“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.

He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.

But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.

Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.

“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged.

“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.

“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”

January 1st, 12:15am:

Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.

“Els?”

“Yeah?” she answered softly.

“Can you stay?”

With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.

✄ - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

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doc-pickles · 5 months

Text

waking up in vegas | matthew tkachuk x hughes!sister (pt. 3)

series masterlist

summary: a flashback to the scene of the crime

warnings: excessive alcohol consumption, sexual themes but no smut, more tkachuk/hughes nonsense (it needs a warning at this point)

a/n: i love how much y'all love this series! I hope you enjoy this next part. eventually I'll write the smut for this night but I didn't want to put it into this particular chapter because it quickly became an almost 2.5k monstrosity. enjoy!

i also hid a quote from icebreaker in this chapter so if you find it, send me a message hehe

xoxo

nina

“I’m gonna head back and call Emma,” Brady announces as he stands from the booth. You and Taryn begin to boo him. “Leave me alone.”

“Can’t. You’ve become so boring. Marriage has changed you,” Taryn plucks a chip from the basket and tosses it at Brady. “Get out of here loser.”

Laughter erupts from your table as Brady rolls his eyes before leaving the restaurant you’d tucked yourself into the back of. You’re between Taryn and Jack on one side of the booth while Quinn, Matthew, and Luke occupy the other side. It’s your third and final night in Vegas celebrating your and Luke’s 21st birthday. So far you'd gone out and had fun at various clubs but had kept your shenanigans to a minimum, a shocking feat for your group. Tonight though there was an electric charge in the air hinting at something exciting happening. Inhibitions were lowered and everyone seated around the table was vibrating with excited energy.

“Man now I’m stuck with you guys,” Quinn groans as he sips his beer.

“New drinking game,” you exclaim, getting everyone’s attention. “Drink every time Quinn complains tonight.”

“Take a shot if he asks to go home,” Jack adds.

“Finish your drink if you catch him sighing dramatically,” Luke finishes, sending all of you into a fit of laughter.

“Fuck you guys,” Quinn grumbles as he crosses his arms. “Should’ve gone with Brady.”

“Drink!” you all exclaim as you sip your drinks.

You’d all gotten significantly more drunk at Quinn’s expense before ditching the restaurant in favor of a club where Taryn was now occupying the dance floor. Even Quinn was looser and louder as the the boys were talking about hockey. You debated whether or not to order another drink or to join Taryn when someone came up and began to dance with her, making your decision for you.

“I got it Matty,” you chuckle at Matthew’s annoyed expression. “But you’re gonna have to face the fact that your little sister isn’t so little anymore.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Matthew grumbles as you brush past him. He softly grabs your wrist, turning you toward him. “What happens if someone starts dancing with you?”

“Then you can come save me. As a thank you for dealing with Taryn,” you wink at him as you slip away from Matthew towards the dance floor.

Taryn grins widely as you approach, stepping away from the guy behind her to grab your hands and drag you further onto the dance floor. She mouths a ‘thank you’ as you two dance together, laughing and spinning around.

The two of you lose track of time as you enjoy yourselves dancing and belting out the lyrics to the songs playing. Eventually you end up leaving Taryn to go and order another round of shots, your body leaning against the bar as you wait for the bartender.

“Can I buy you a drink, pretty girl,” someone whispers in your ear and you immediately tense up, turning to see the clearly drunk guy standing behind you.

“No thanks, I’m good,” you reply and turn back to the bar. Your body freezes as his hand lands on your hip. “Please don’t touch me.”

“C’mon, this dress makes your ass-“

“Hey baby, there you are,” your head whips around at the sound of Matthew’s voice, sighing in relief as he sidles up next to you. “Sorry I took so long, you good?”

You nod but the guy still doesn’t let go of your hip. Matthews eyes land on his hand and he promptly pulls you into his arms, his hands pulling you close to him as his lips land on your neck. The move is unexpected, a small gasp coming from you as Matthew caresses your skin with warm kisses.

“Everyone is waiting for us,” Matthew says as his teeth nip at your earlobe, one hand moving to twine with yours. “C’mon babe.”

Matthew doesn’t let go of your hand until you get a few feet away from the table. You stop him and press your hands to his chest, “Thanks for rescuing me Matty.”

“Anytime,” Matthew breathes out, his lips leaning down to brush against your neck. “God… You smell amazing…”

“Get your hands off my sister Tkachuk!” Quinn yells with a laugh. “C’mon Luke ordered shots.”

Matthew slides into the booth and immediately pulls you in behind him, your body half resting on his thigh. One of his hands snakes around your body to pull you into his side, breath hot on the side of your face.

“Where’s Luke?” you ask just as Taryn approaches the table.

“Chatting up the waitress that took our order,” Quinn points to the left and you almost gag as you catch sight of Luke with his tongue down a bottle blonde’s throat. “Hey he got us free shots, I’ll take what I can get.”

The five of you clink your shots together before downing them. When Luke returns with a flushed face and another tray of shots none of you can find it in you to complain as you down another round.

“Luke,” Quinn swings his arm around Luke’s shoulder and pulls him close. “I will give you $500 if you convince the waitress to let you motorboat her next time she comes over here.”

Jack sputters on his drink as Taryn lets out a howling laugh. Your mouth is simply dropped in shock as you look between your two brothers, “Quinn you’re cut off. Luke, don’t you fucking da-“

“Deal.”

The table erupts in cheers and laughter as Luke waves down the waitress again. You try and stop him but Matthew tightens his hold on your waist, “Let him have his fun, he just turned twenty one and has no inhibitions.”

“So did I but you don’t see me motorboating random women in bars,” you giggle as Matthew lips find your neck again, his fingers squeezing your hips. “You sure are touchy when you’re drunk.”

“Can’t help it,” Matthew whispers in your ear. “You look so- Holy shit he did it.”

Whipping your head up you spot Luke with his head between the waitress’s boobs, Quinn and Jack red faced with laughter as Taryn takes photos. Your jaw is slack as your brother lifts his head up with a smirk, winking at the blonde in front of him.

“Oh my fucking god,” you shriek as Luke sits back at the table, gesturing to the round of shots the waitress had brought over. “You’re insane!”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” Luke shouts with a whoop as you all down your shots. “C’mon sissy you gotta catch up. Last night here!”

You roll your eyes but smirk at Luke, “Some of us want to leave this city alive, Lukey.”

“I’ll give you $1000 to do whatever Jack and Taryn say for the next hour,” Quinn smirks, clearly wasted as he chuckles.

“Just because you’re making millions every year doesn’t mean you have to do insane shit like this,” you laugh as Quinn stares you down. “Fucking stop it, I’m not taking your money.”

“Cause you’re a pussy,” Quinn slurs as he slams his hands onto the table. “Take the money!”

“Okay you’re cut off buddy,” Jack slings his arm around Quinn’s shoulder. “C’mon let’s-“

“Fine I’ll do it,” you lean across the table, matching Quinn’s stare. “Let’s go bitch.”

Taryn, Jack, Luke, and Matthew are staring at you and Quinn wide eyed, unsure of if they should intervene in whatever pissing contest the two of you are in the middle of.

“You’re really gonna let me and Jack be in charge of you,” Taryn asks warily and you shrug. “Your funeral. More shots!”

Three rounds of shots later and everyone at your table is giggling and making jokes. You’re completely sitting on Matthew’s lap at this point, arms casually strung around his neck as he squeezes you close.

Quinn had disappeared a little while back and Luke is currently not so inconspicuously making out with the waitress who’d just gotten off her shift. Jack and Taryn are whispering in the corner of the booth and you watch them with curious eyes. You know they’re planning something insane for you to do but you can’t hear them over the pounding music in the club.

Your body is keyed up, equal parts adrenaline and alcohol coursing through you as you wiggle on Matthew’s lap. He groans and squeezes your hips in a tight hold.

“Stop moving so damn much,” Matthew whispers against your neck as he tries to hold you in place. “Or your seat is about to get real uncomfortable.”

“We have a new challenge,” Jack smirks at you, pulling you away from Matthew’s words even as a blush spreads across your cheeks. “It’s a good one too.”

“I’m ready, hit me with your best shot.”

“We go down the street to the wedding chapel, we take some pictures of you with some random guy, and then we send them in the family group chat and act like you got eloped.”

“What the fuck,” you spit out between bouts of laughter. “How did you even think of that?”

Taryn grins and turns to Jack, “Between the two of us there’s a lot of evil genius going on here.”

“Alright let’s go,” you shuffle off of Matthew’s lap and out of the booth. You’re barely standing for ten seconds before his hands are on your waist again. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get rid of Matty long enough to ask someone to pose for a photo with me.”

Taryn gasps excitedly as she looks between the two of you, “Perfect! We can pretend you two got eloped! I think both of our moms would die if they saw that.”

You snort as you start to make your way down the street, “I think my mother would kill me if I actually got eloped in Vegas.”

The two blocks to the chapel go by quickly, the four of you standing in front of neon letters and flashing lights. The retro themed chapel boasts 24 hour wedding services and their reputation as the elopement destination of the stars.

“Ohhh they even have one of those convertibles you can take pictures in,” Taryn gasps as she spots the neon pink car. “I bet you could even get a veil!”

You’re laughing so hard that you don’t even notice Taryn going inside the chapel. When she comes back she’s bouncing around excitedly as she looks between you and Matthew.

“It’s only $75 to get married,” Taryn smirks. “I think you two should do it.”

“That would definitely make the Christmas card,” Jack nods enthusiastically. “Do it!”

“I’m not eloping right now,” you scoff as you cross your arms. “I would not make it home alive!”

Jack and Taryn only glance at each other before your brother speaks up, “You still have about 10 minutes left of the hour so… you won’t win Quinn’s bet if you say no.”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” your voice rises a few octaves as you look from Jack and Taryn to Matthew who has a smirk on his lips. “Why are you smirking? I don’t like that.”

“What, you don’t wanna marry me? C’mon baby,” Matthew coos as he steps closer to you while you laugh. “Promise I’ll make a good husband.”

Matthew is too close, clouding your brain with dangerous thoughts as you meet his eyes. In one quick movement, his lips are pressed against yours, Jack and Taryn cheering excitedly in the background as you enthusiastically kiss Matthew back. When you pull apart your chest is heaving as he holds you close.

“Should I get down on one knee?” Matthew grins widely, his eyes bright as he watches you.

“Baby, the only time I ever want to see a grown man on his knees in front of me is when his face is between my legs,” you relish in the way Matthew drops his jaw, his fingers digging into your side. “C’mon Tkachuk before I change my mind.”

The rest of the night is a blur between taking shots and reciting your vows to Matthew. After you’d officially tied the knot Taryn insisted on taking about a thousand photos of you and Matthew with your insistence that none of them actually go to the family group chat. Taryn easily agreed and once she was satisfied her and Jack ran off to the casinos leaving you with your husband.

“Sooo,” Matthew grins as he pulls you closer. You had changed into a short white dress before your impromptu marriage, the fabric clinging tightly to your hips. “Does this mean we get to consummate the marriage?”

“If you buy me pizza and tell me I’m pretty,” you laugh as you walk away from Matthew. He catches up quickly, arms wrapping around you as his lips find your neck once again.

“Baby, you’re fucking stunning,” he groans as he holds you close. “And I’d buy a damn pizza chain to keep you in my arms all night.”

“Okay then hubby, lead the way,” you giggle as Matthew chases you down the street, both of you alive with joy as you run the rest of the way back to your hotel.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #brady tkachuk #nina writes

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m00nlight-ramblings · 6 months

Text

BG3 Companion Modern AU Headcanons

These random thoughts popped into my mind and I had to write them down. I love these little weirdos, and some of them probably don't make sense but OH WELL.

Should I do a Part 2 with more companions?? Let me know - my inbox and requests are open!

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Astarion

This dude's got iPad kid energy - he loves to scroll Tiktok for hours.

He gets bi-weekly pedicures. And not the basic kind - the full on 1.5 hour long with the massage and the mask and the exfoliation.

His favorite holiday is Halloween. He plans his costume starting in August.

He'd be the type of person to be walking through a mall, see a Claire's, and spontaneously decide to get his ears pierced idk.

Is really into metal. Like, you'll come home and Metallica will be blasting and you walk into the bedroom and he's folding laundry and just like, "Oh, HELLO, Darling!" but will have to scream it over the volume in which he's listening to music

Will truly take an hour picking out the perfect wine to pair with your dinner...he's definitely a wine snob.

The cheapest article of clothing Astarion owns is from Banana Republic and it's an undershirt...everything else is ~*very fancy*~

Loves watching all types of vampire movies/TV shows. He can often be heard saying, "Oh no, they got that all wrong" under his breath.

He definitely reads like 1-2 books a week. He's recently really gotten in spicy smut books (he definitely got recommendations from BookTok).

For sure falls asleep to ASMR videos.

Gale

This man loves HGTV *queue Home Depot commercial music*

Has the most absolutely beautiful, clean home you've ever seen with about 30 bookcases CRAMMED with books. The books are the only disorganized thing in his home because he constantly is reading them, so alphabetizing them is useless.

Pinterest is his most used phone app. His boards are carefully curated. That man has a recipe/inspiration pic/quote for EVERYTHING.

Definitely volunteers at the animal shelter once a month. Often times has to talk himself out of bringing a cat home.

LUSH is his favorite store at the mall. He loves them bath bombs.

He THROWS DOWN at holiday parties...Christmas? Thanksgiving? The table is SET. The decorations are UP. He's wearing an APRON because he's been cooking ALL day. The playlist is PERFECT.

Speaking of holidays, he has matching pajama sets for everyone in the household. For every. Holiday.

Fall is absolutely his favorite season. "Sweetheart...have you ever watched 'When Harry Met Sally'? Perfect autumn movie...also I bought a new scarf today to go with my new peacoat. And mittens. And a new hat...it's getting cold outside."

He definitely has a Live. Laugh. Love. adjacent sign somewhere in his home

He definitely needs glasses to read. And he for sure has those librarian chains so that he can just take them off and they hang, instead of losing them.

Karlach

Absolutely loves to eat meals watching Youtube videos.

Imagine her in Times Square? She tears the M&M's store UP.

Is obsessed with documentaries. She often says things like "I can't believe there's so much stuff to LEARN out there!"

Definitely has a Squishmallow collection. And she rotates which one she sleeps with every night so they all get a chance.

Is absolutely the worst cook of all time but tries really really hard...however, she can make a mean boxed mac n' cheese.

Has an obsession with sugary cereal. There's always Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Fruity Pebbles in her cabinets.

Certified Switie for SURE.

Is really into astrology. Definitely has said, "Oh, you're just saying that because you're a SCORPIO" or the like many, many times.

Absolute Starbucks addiction (venti iced caramel macchiato, extra caramel).

Has monthly "girl's nights" (but everyone is invited) at her place. The rules are: pajamas only, junk food, romcoms, and a playlist of the best pop songs in the past 20 years.

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How'd y'all like it...should I make a part two with other companions?! Remember my inbox is open and I'm accepting requests!! I'd love to write some stuff so send it in!

#balders gate 3 #bg3 gale #gale fanfic #gale headcanons #gale of waterdeep #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion headcanon #bg3 #karlach #karlach headcanon #karlach fanfic #karlach fan fiction #karlach bg3 #bg3 karlach #bg3 astarion

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roses-r-rosie3 · 5 months

Note

Hiiiiii!!!! :)

Can I request Tomas Vrbada x male reader? They meet at madame bo's, the reader is helping at the restaurant, like cleaning and serving customers in exchange for food. Reader is kinda natural at talking to customers and everyone likes him. Tomas is absolutely smitten, but thinks that since the reader is acting the same with other customers it means nothing, his friends (Johnny) tease him. So his friends and madame bo hatch a plan for the two idiots in love to finally confess

Glue Song

Tomas Vrbada x M!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight mentions of nsfw, Romance, Crack-ish

Quote: “Okay so, what if, we bring in some ninja’s and they attack the place and Tomas saves y/n! Like a knight in shining armor!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You haven’t seen Radien and Kung Lao in months. You never got to say bye to them because you called out sick the day that they were tested, not knowing that it would be the last time you would have seen them until a while. So when you heard from Madame Bo that Kung Lao and Radien were coming by for dinner you were ecstatic.

What you didn’t expect was that they brought new people with them, a guy with a blindfold on and a movie star that you recognized. But one of those new people stood out to you, a guy with grey hair. He looked so cute, but you had to keep yourself professional because you were at work.

“Hey Raiden! Hey Kung Lao! It’s been so long since I’ve last saw you guys! And I see that you guys brought some guests!” You smiled.

Tomas was lovestruck. Your smile made him feel warm inside. He could stare at into your eyes for hours. He was mesmerized by your looks. He loved everything about you, your face, your glistening eyes, your hair, your hands, god he could just imagine your hands choking him while you-

“What drink can I get for you sir?” You asked.

“Oh- uh- s-sorry can I just get a water” Tomas stuttered.

“Of course” you smiled before leaving.

“Someone has a crush~” Johnny smirked.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about” Tomas blushed.

“You’re blushing! You totally like him!” Kung Lao laughed.

“Would you stop talking so loud! He could hear you!” Tomas blurted out.

“So you do like him!” Johnny teased.

“Fine! I think he’s cute okay?! Now would you guys please keep it down!” Tomas scolded.

“Ouuuuu Tomas is in loooooooooove~” Johnny smiled.

“What are we? In middle school?” Kenshi scoffed.

“Yeah, let Tomas be, it’s not his fault that he liked y/n” Raiden said.

“Who likes y/n?” Madame Bo said.

“Madame Bo! What are you doing here! We didn’t say anyone liked y/n!” Raiden nervously laughed.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I might be an old lady but I’m not deaf. So it’s either you tell me who likes y/n or else I’m telling him that one of you like him” Madame Bo threatened.

“Fine! Tomas likes him but you can’t say a word to y/n!” Kung Lao confessed.

“He’s just y/n’s type” Madame Bo laughed before leaving.

“Wait Madame Bo! What does that mean!” Tomas called out.

Almost on queue, you showed up at the table with their drinks.

“I’m so sorry for being so late, here’s your drinks” you said as you handed out the drinks.

But as you were handing Tomas his drink, your hands accidentally touched, which caused Tomas started to blush really hard.

“Are you guys ready for me to take your orders?” You asked.

After you got their orders, you walked to the back to give their orders to the chefs before helping other customers.

“Tomas are you okay? You’re really red” Raiden asked.

“What did Madame Bo mean when she said that I was his type?” Tomas asked.

“She means that you’re the type of person that he finds attractive” Kenshi explained.

“I-is it true? Am I really his type?” Smoke blushed.

“Oh sure you are buddy! I’ve known y/n for years!” Kung Lao exclaimed.

Tomas watched as you were handing out all the customer’s plates. You were so kind to all of them, giving them polite smiles, making small talk with them, etc. Maybe Madame Bo and Kung Lao were just teasing him to get his hopes up. You were nice to everyone, what difference did he make?

“Are you sure?” Tomas questioned.

“One hundred percent, even Raiden can back me up” Kung Lao laughed.

“What if we make a plan to get them together!” Johnny exclaimed.

“Okay so, what if, we bring in some ninja’s and they attack the place and Tomas saves y/n! Like a knight in shining armor!” Johnny said.

“That’s a stupid idea” Madame Bo scoffed.

“Madame Bo! You’ve gotta stop doing that!” Raiden said.

“I have a better idea for you kids” Madame Bo smirked.

…

“And you guys said my ninja idea was stupid” Johnny said as he rolled his eyes.

“Are you sure about this Madame Bo?” Tomas asked.

“Yes, now I have to go, he’s coming” Madame Bo said before leaving.

“Sorry for your wait, it’s pretty busy today” you chuckled as you handed out everyone’s food.

When you were done handing out everyone’s food and making sure that everyone got the right food, you immediately started to serve other customers. Your smile, your voice, your eyes, your skin, your hair, everything about was so perfect, so sweet, sweet like honey.

As the night went on, Tomas started to doubt himself more and more. He noticed that you were nice to everyone you served. What if you were just doing your job and he got his hopes too high for nothing? What if-

“Dude, Are you okay? You haven’t even touched your food. You’ve just been staring at y/n the entire time” Raiden said.

“He’s lovestruck! Duh!” Johnny laughed.

“I’m fine” Tomas replied as he started to eat his food.

After everyone was done eating, that’s when the plan was going to be put into action. You walked up to the table to collect their empty plates.

“Can we get a check please?” Tomas asked.

“Oh don’t worry about it, it’s usually on the house when Raiden and Kung Lao are here” you smiled.

“Oh I’m afraid we can’t do that y/n, Kung Lao and Raiden brought 3 extra guests” Madame Bo said as she walked up to the table.

“Oh, okay then, I will bring the check, do you guys wanna pay separately or together?” You asked.

“Oh man! I don’t think any of us brought money” Kenshi said.

“I have an idea! Why don’t one of us help y/n clean and close up the store!” Kung Lao exclaimed.

All Tomas could focus on was your eyes. He could stare at them for hours. But all of a sudden he was snapped back to reality when he felt someone kick his legs.

“I said, why don’t one of us help y/n clean and close up the store” Kung Lao scolded.

“W-what? I mean- yeah! I mean- I will do it” Tomas stuttered.

“Then it’s settled, I can show you where the supplies are right now” you smiled before you started walking.

Tomas was quick to follow you, looking back to see all of his friend’s and Madame Bo cheering him on. Luckily, after you were done showing Tomas the basics of how to clean the place, it was already past closing time. But unluckily for Tomas, he didn’t hear a thing that you were saying just responding with ‘yeah’ and ‘mhm’ while he stared at your eyes.

So when it got to finally cleaning the place, Tomas didn’t know what to do at all. While you were cleaning, you chuckled as you saw Tomas struggling to broom the dust into the dustpan.

“Here let me help you with that” you chuckled as you held him from behind, guiding the broom to the dustpan.

Tomas could feel his face burning up. All of a sudden a romantic song started playing in the speakers of the restaurant. When you finally realized what you were doing and what was playing, you quickly let go.

“I-I um- I’m gonna go turn that off, I don’t even know how it turned on” you stuttered.

When you left to go to the back, Madame Bo, Johnny, and Kung Lao popped out of nowhere.

“What are you guys doing here?! And where is Madame Bo?” Tomas asked

“She had to go home, but don’t worry! We are here to help you!” Raiden exclaimed.

“I don’t need your help! Just go!” Tomas shooed.

“Really? It looks like you do” Kung Lao scoffed

Before everyone knew it, you were walking back, and they all got into their hiding spots, leaving Tomas alone once again.

“You know Tomas, when I was showing you how to clean the place, were you even listening?” You chuckled.

OH NO! HE WAS CAUGHT!!

His first instinct was to get on his knees and start crying for forgiveness. No, that would make him look even more guilty. So he decided to play dumb.

“What do you mean? I was totally listening” Tomas replied.

“Oh really?” You laughed.

You decided to skip that topic, for now. You and Tomas had a blast talking to each other while the two of you cleaned (more like you cleaning and him just looking into your eyes BUT STILL). You two got to know each other, knowing the others favorite hobbies, songs, food, etc.

When the two of you got done cleaning, you put all the things back into the cleaning closet before walking out of the locking up restaurant. Tomas offered to walk you home, and how could you not say yes! The walk to your house was usually boring, but with Tomas there with you, he made you feel like wanting to walk with him forever.

“Thanks for walking me home Tomas, maybe we can do it again sometime” you smiled.

You were about to unlock the door to your house until you felt someone grab your arm.

“Wait y/n, I have something to tell you” Tomas blushed.

“What is it?” You asked.

“I-I like you” Tomas confessed.

You looked at the ground, looking disappointed at first. Did Tomas really just screw up? But suddenly you started laughing. Oh great! Now you’re gonna make fun of him!

“It took you long enough” you laughed before pulling him in for a kiss.

You could tell that Tomas was shocked at first, feeling his jolt of surprise. It didn’t take long before he started kissing you back though. You puts put your hand on the back of his head, and stroked his hair in a reassuring way, calming him down a bit.

When the two of you pulled away from each other, you stared into each other’s eyes. Tomas took his time to think about what just happened, while also trying to savor the taste of your lips. But that’s when something hit Tomas, what did you mean when you said it took him long enough?

“Wait y/n, what do you mean?” Tomas asked.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” You chuckled.

“When you said it took me long enough” Tomas said.

“Oh, when I was in the back turning off the music, Madame Bo came out of nowhere and told me how you liked me and I just connected the dots from there” you replied.

“Wha-”

“FINALLY THEY ARE TOGETHER” Madame Bo, Johnny, Kenshi, Kung Lao, and Raiden celebrated as they popped out of one of the nearby bushes.

“OH MY GOD! YOU GUYS WERE HERE THE WHOLE TIME?!” You and Tomas both said in synch.

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cryptidcorners · 5 months

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Biker!Mike Schmidt x M!Reader Headcanons

Description: Headcanons with your biker boyfriend, Mike!

Media: FNaF!Movie [ AU ]

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby)

Tags: Biker!Mike Alternate Universe, Fluff, Headcanons mixed with Drabbles, Protectiveness, Established Relationship, Found Family, Cute Stuff, Semi-Domestic, Romantic, Comfort + Uses Masculine Terms

Warnings: Mentions of (Gang, Vehicle, Physical) Violence, Injury + Kidnapping, Slight FNaF!Movie Spoilers, Depressive Thoughts, Stress, Extreme Nightmares

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

Definitely a show-off, even before you started dating. He wouldn't boast too loudly though, he prefers to smoothly tell you how he got blackeye or some new asset on his bike. He always melts when you're impressed by his feats, even if they were from failure.

Mike's a collector. While cycling or suffering from boredom in his dull jobs, he'd swipe a few things that grab his attention and share it with you. He enjoys making chains for you and Abby. It hasn't been the first time Abby has been dragged out of school for wearing a pin with some questionable language Mike didn't notice.

Absolutely adores helping you dress up to resemble his biker wear. Loves helping you find bracelets, decorative eyeliner and rebellious-printed clothes. It makes me squeal eternally.

Gets intense anxiety in populated areas, mostly due to his trauma with Garrett. He doesn't want to think about anyone taking you or Abby away. He's stupid protective in public spaces. With his already intimidating demeanour, it's safe to say nobody bothers talking to you too much.

He enjoys using pet names, but he jokingly calls you "sir", "bro" or "boytoy" a lot. Speaking of which, Mike adores when you make up titles for him. It's something he treasures a lot. A special name for him? And him only? Makes his heart melt.

Takes you on bike rides at any opportunity. He also loves taking Abby in rides too and doing basic tricks with you watching from the sidelines. He's always careful, he could never forgive himself if either of you got hurt.

One of his favorite things to do is let you touch his hair. Nothing makes him happier than intimate moments like that. He likes it more than cuddling and neck kisses. It's just the simple things in life that appeal to him the most.

Wears the silliest shirts while he isn't at work or roaming the streets. Either quotes involving boyfriends or cartoon merchandise. It amuses all of you, but it genuinely makes him happy to indulge in a separate style. Definitely has a: "Men love me, Fish Fear Me" hat somewhere.

You're always at his aid when he comes back bruised. Like the first bullet, he'd calmly hum you an out of tune, over exaggerating story to make himself look good. Truly, Mike doesn't think he deserves you. So, he refuses to embarrass himself.

Loves kissing. That's all.

"Come on, Mike. I gotta go," you giggled as he pressed featherweighted kisses against your skin. You could feel him smiling before he pulled back with a heated sigh. "Just a minute, please? You know how much I miss you." With a playfully eye roll, you wrap your hands around his sides and hug him as he continued peppering you again while grinning sweetly.

Always referencing something. Either it's from a show or song he likes. He's always dumbfounded when you don't understand and ends up spending thirsty minutes rambling about music history.

Pulls pranks occasionally, mostly with Abby's help. A few prank wars have gone down in your household.

Has at least two tattoos based on you (and Abby), he takes his relationships very seriously.

Cried when Abby called you her "dad" once. This loser is so head over heels for you he'd sob if you were complimented him. It makes his heart throb to see you and his sister connect despite everything.

Very defensive. If anything goes wrong, he's either going to use grade school insults or result to violence. There were a couple of times he couldn't come home due to arrest. He'd come back as if nothing happened.

If you ever got into an argument, Mike would try to give you the most formal apology ever. Either by notes or heavily descriptive speeches about how special you are to him. Most of the time it was pretty cheesy, but you couldn't help but be smitten by his adorable attempts.

Much deeper voice + Slightly Childish. He's still pretty shy when he isn't in his element, so Mike is much more confident with you around. Mostly due to his need to impress you.

So much fist bumping.

Mike's bike is DEFINITELY named after you. Anyone who asks about it is immediately shot with dumps of his adoration if you. Bro will never shut up about his boyfriend. Ever.

Mike has definitely gone through those: "This is for you," and failed immediately. As much as it embarrassed him, he finds it cute how fond you were of it. His face flares up a lot around you.

"God, I'm so sorry I missed it." He frowned, face drenched with numb scarlet. "I didn't mean to make a fool out of you." Mike relaxed once you gripped his leather glove with a smile, "So? I still love you. I think it was sweet how you tried to impress me. I'm proud of you." Mike swore he was starstruck right there.

Loves holding your hand, even in public. It's one of the only forms of affection he's comfortable with displaying.

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #🚲 biker!schmdit #headcanons #writing #writers on tumblr #fnaf #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #if yall want more of him ask!!!#mike schmidt x male reader #michael schmidt x male reader

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hellfirenacht · 5 months

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Plus One Chapter 2

Summary: Once upon a time, you made a deal with the school freak that if he ever got famous then he'd invite you to be his plus one at a red carpet event. Now a decade later an invite shows up at your house asking you to be the +1 to Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin. (1)

Tags: modern!au, Eddie and Reader are in their late 20's/early 30's after the deal is made. Rockstar!Eddie. Friends to strangers to friends to lovers, references to Flight of Icarus characters. Eventual smut. No use of y/n, reader description is as vague as possible

No beta, we die like Jason Carver.

Eddie Munson

The name echoed in your mind for the rest of the day, bouncing around and trying to connect a name with a face the whole time you were at work. Of course this was the one day that you had forgotten to charge your phone, and were stuck in an endless loop of trying to figure out who it was.

Without your phone you were stuck listening to the radio on the way home. You flipped through the different stations, trying to find any channel that was playing music and not on a commercial break. The screech of an electric guitar gave you pause, giving the song a good five seconds to impress you before you continued your channel surfing.

The sting of the guitar rocked through your car and penetrated your brain in a way that felt electric. In five seconds you had removed your hand from the radio dial and were focused on driving again. The roads were empty this late at night, allowing you some extra room in your mind to enjoy the song. Vocals came in, scratching your brain in a pleasant way as you caught the final chorus before it faded out and the DJ came back on.

“And that was Corroded Coffin with their latest single Storm.” Announced the DJ, and you nearly slammed on the breaks from shock.

Corroded Coffin. The invitation. Okay, so it had to be a joke, right? There was no way that the letter that had appeared in your mailbox was really addressed to you from them.

It was only by pure luck that you were able to speed home without any cops pulling you over. You rushed into your apartment and grabbed the invitation that had been left on your counter before shoving your charge cable into your phone.

When it didn’t turn on right away you hurried over to your laptop and opened it, thankful that there was no delay. You made quick work of typing in ‘Eddie Munson’ and ‘Corroded Coffin’ into the search bar.

The results were instantaneous as pictures of a band popped up, as well as a flood of articles about the band’s latest goings on. You scanned the results and pulled up the latest one about how the band had been nominated for Best Metal Album at this year's Hellfire Awards. You quickly learned that the Hellfire Awards were a pretty big deal in the alternative music scene as everything was decided by the fans rather than a panel of industry judges.

You pulled up another article focused on Eddie himself and you stared at the picture as you started to remember who this man was. You got up and went to your closet, haphazardly pulling out boxes and bags until you found an old stash of high school memorabilia that you never looked at but never could bring yourself to toss.

At the bottom of the box was the thick yearbook from your graduating year. You flipped through it quickly to the Senior photos, singing the alphabet song in your mind as you made your way to the M’s for-

Eddie Munson. (insert funny senior quote here)

You stared at the picture for a good long while as you tried to comprehend what was actually happening. You brought the book to your laptop again, comparing the pictures of the Rock God on your screen to the awkwardly smiling kid in the photo. Yes, that was definitely him. He hadn’t changed much physically, his hair was still long and wavy and he still had bright and expressive brown eyes.

Memories began seeping in, as you thought back to the few weeks before high school ended. You flipped to the front cover of the book now, scanning the many signatures of long forgotten friends and the few of those you still talked to. There in the corner of the page was a message in scratchy handwriting, as if the pen had been refusing to work.

See you when I’m famous! Eddie Munson

You grabbed the invitation again.

A deal’s a deal.

His handwriting was somehow worse. Didn’t he have to write his autograph a million times a day? How was it worse? But it was still the same, and you found yourself laughing. Actually, you were in damn near hysterics as you pressed your face against your hands. This had to be a joke, right? One of your friends realized that someone that you both went to school with was famous, and had made this elaborate invitation to...

A deal’s a deal.

And if you forget to come back for Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.

You set the yearbook aside, sliding the invitation safely inside. Turning back to the computer, you started looking through Corroded Coffin’s past accomplishments; they'd been on the scene for a few years now, but had exploded in popularity in the past year and a half. They’d even played in Indianapolis just a few months ago and you were none the wiser.

That night was spent in a spiral of reading over articles, and (admittedly) stalking social media. Each of the band members had their own socials combined with the main Corroded Coffin page. You also skimmed the socials for WR Records, but didn’t find much interesting other than tour dates and updates on the other artists under the label. Oh, and you now knew that Eddie was about two years older than you. Huh.

The band was... chaotic. They posted a lot of videos behind the scenes, of them playing pranks on each other, lip syncing to other songs, and there seemed to be a running joke of everyone hiding Gareth’s drumsticks in weird places.

Magazines also seemed to love getting Eddie shirtless, especially tattoo magazines. They also liked him not wearing pants. They liked him in as little clothing as they could legally get away with.

It’s research. You told yourself, attempting to justify it. He has nice tattoos and I just want a good look.

Managing to tear your eyes away from the photos, (and ignoring any warmth you felt in your stomach from them) you found yourself smiling as you turned on their music as you watched years of curated material unfold in front of you in a few hours. Their music was good, really good, and you wondered why you hadn’t heard them until recently.

Oh right, you were stuck on listening to the same couple hundred songs since high school. You really should branch out.

It was really late when you finally forced yourself to close the laptop and go to bed. You laid down and stared at the ceiling, holding the heavy yearbook on your chest thinking back to those last few weeks of school. Some memories were sharper than others. You closed your eyes trying to remember as much as you could. Eddie. An old notebook. A stupid worksheet. His smile. Some were less clear. Prom night. Graduation, forgotten small talk in the hallways.

Your crush.

Your heart jumped in your chest as you remembered that. Oh, right. You had a crush on him for those last few weeks, hadn’t you? You pressed your face to your pillow and let out a groan. Actually, this was no longer today’s problem. This could be tomorrow's problem. You put the yearbook aside and turned off your lamp and went to bed.

---

So as it turns out, tomorrow’s problems do, in fact, become today’s problems. You weren’t very thrilled about this as you read the invitation for the hundredth time over breakfast. How the hell were you even supposed to respond to this invitation? There was no RSVP or return address or phone number!

Maybe it was a prank? But the only other person who would know about that deal you two had made was Eddie right? Or maybe you’d told one of your friends back then? But then why would they just now try a prank?

Your phone buzzed and lit up next to you and you looked it over. A notification from WR RECORDS was blaring at you from your screen. You turned the brightness down on your phone hoping that it would help lessen the shock. It did not.

With shaking hands you fumbled to open the message. It was clearly addressed to you.

“Hello! This is Paige Warner from WR Records reaching out on behalf of Corroded Coffin to confirm that you received the invitation that we sent out for this year's Hellfire Awards.”

You stared at this for a long time. You closed the message and checked the account that it was sent from. It had the official small check that meant it was a verified account. You felt like you were going to be sick.

You re-opened the message, read it again, closed it, checked the account again to make sure that your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, panicked again, set the phone down, did a lap around your house and opened the message again.

This cycle would repeat at least two more times before you finally forced yourself to type a reply.

Which you instantly deleted and opened the message on your laptop instead, as if changing the technology you were viewing it on would somehow make this any different.

Read receipts were on. FUCK.

You googled how to turn them off for this platform. You could not. Double FUCK.

You’d left WR RECORDS on read for going on 45 minutes. Triple FUCK.

“Got it!!”

You sent the message before you could stall any longer. You cringe at the two words. Why did you double up on the exclamation points? Anxiety was spiraling through you at a million miles per hour before another messaged popped up.

“Great! Would you have a moment to talk to me about making arrangements? I have a few moments free right now.”

You hadn’t felt this nervous since you interviewed for your current job.

“Yes, I have time!”

Your answer looked so robotic and generic on the screen, but there was no time to think about that as your laptop screen lit up and started ringing. A video call. WR RECORDS was trying to video call you. This had to be illegal. It had to! You were in your fucking pajamas and WR RECORDS was trying to video call you.

You spent ten seconds trying desperately to make yourself look presentable and threw on your robe over your pjs. At least the robe was clean and didn’t have any holes in it. You tightened it around you as much as you could. Took a deep breath and answered the call.

A woman a few years older than you appeared on screen. She had short dark hair and a face full of freckles. “I’m so sorry for the last minute call.” she said. “I’m Paige Warner, I’m the manager for Corroded Coffin.”

Your throat felt dry as you choked out your name with a nervous smile. Of course you’d left your drink in the kitchen and there was no graceful way to grab it now.

Paige wasn’t here to waste time or make small talk, she jumped right into it. She didn’t even blink at your outfit. “The annual Hellfire Awards will be held a month from now. We are willing to offer you travel expenses and hotel to come down, and the band has also agreed to pay for any hair and make-up as well as an outfit to wear onto the red carpet.”

“Red carpet.” You said dumbly. Wait you were going to- they wanted you to what.

“Yes, Eddie specifically requested that you join him on the red carpet.” Paige said, furrowing her brows. “He said that you would remember your deal.”

“I, uh...”

Paige looked at her watch and you could tell that she was starting to get antsy. “I can have plane tickets and a hotel booked for you by tonight. All I need is for you to sign this agreement and have it sent back to me before 5 pm PST. I’ll have it sent to your email. Now, about your involvement with-”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence as there was suddenly a lot of background noise as it sounded like people were filing into her office.

“Paige, can you hide the drumsticks this time?” came a voice off screen. “We’re running out of ideas.”

“Jeff, I can’t right now I’m currently talking to-”

“OH! Is that her? Let me see!” Jeff suddenly ran on screen and your eyes nearly popped out of your head at the site of the bass player appearing behind her.

“Hi! You’re Eddie’s friend right?” He smiled wide at you, and all you could do was nod.

Friends? That seemed generous for the situation but it would have been rude to say otherwise.

“Oh shit, I should go get Eddie to say hi!” Jeff said, tossing the drumsticks down onto Paige’s lap and running off.

“Jeff, no!” she called after him but you had a feeling that her protests weren’t going to mean anything. You froze up as the idea of seeing Eddie again started to sink in.

“I’m so sorry for him, they all get excited too easily.” Paige said. “Jeff, I said no I need to finish this call and then I have other work to do! Work on this computer!”

Jeff just appeared again, grabbed the back of her chair and rolled her away with the biggest grin. “You can pretend to be us and post boring updates on our account later. The internet isn’t going anywhere.”

The absurdity of this was not lost on you and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. This was playing out as if it had happened a hundred times before, and off screen you heard Paige’s exasperated sigh. “Five minutes.” she said firmly.

“Thank you, five” Came the sound of not just Jeff’s voice but another voice.

The sound of another rolling chair echoed through your crappy computer speakers and at first all you could see was the lower torso of a t shirt as someone moved into frame before they sat down in front of the camera.

Eddie Munson. Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson.

Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin.

“Uh, hi.” he said with a wide grin, and a wave and you desperately tried to reconnect the wires in your brain to say hi back.

Last night you’d seen carefully curated pictures of him, making him look untouchable. You’d seen him on stage holding his guitar, looking like a Rock God. You’d seen him spread out over pages of magazines, wearing clothing that was specifically tailored to make him look like, well, like he was better than any normal person. You’d even seen him wearing damn near nothing, covered in tattoos making him damn near look like a porn star.

Now he was sitting across from you (virtually) with his hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, and a faded t shirt with a questionable stain on it. There was unshaven stubble that looked like it didn’t know if it was growing out or if he’d forgotten to shave for the past few days. For five seconds, you felt like you were in high school again, as you finally managed to talk.

“Hey.” you said back. Nailed it.

“So you’re coming right?” Eddie said eagerly, and even with the lower quality of the video call (which was because of your internet, and not Paige’s webcam, you were sure of), you could see the way his large brown eyes showed excitement.

“You really want me to?” you blurted out. You couldn’t help it, none of this seemed real. Hell, you hardly believed that someone from Hawkins High School had managed to get out of the sad town and become famous. This was a lot to learn in two days.

“We had a deal, remember?” Eddie said. “And I’m not gonna risk you cursing me because I forgot to invite you the last four and a half years.”

“Well... I guess I should go then.” you replied. “I mean, if I don’t then I’m going to have to learn how to curse-”

“You’re allowed to say ‘fuck’, we do it all the time!” yelled out Jeff from behind Eddie.

“Shut up, Jeff!” Eddie grabbed a piece of paper off of Paige’s desk, crumpled it up and threw it at his bandmate. He was laughing through and when it made contact with Jeff, he fell down dramatically. “Ignore him, we’re all idiots.” Eddie turned back to you.

There had been a time in high school where Eddie Munson was regarded as a freak, a delinquent, a druggie, someone dangerous. When you had been paired together for a worksheet, you found yourself at ease with him, talking to him as naturally as you would any other friend. And now, nearly a decade later, he was a celebrity, a legend, constantly being swarmed by fans and groupies and paparazzi. Yet here you were, laughing at his antics the same way you had all those years ago.

Freak. Rock Star. Eddie Munson.

You found your shoulders relaxing and you were smiling at him. “It’s fine, I guess I’ll start with cursing Jeff and working my way through the band until I get to you.” you told him.

“You can’t!” protested Eddie. “I’m holding up my end of the deal! We said five years and if you don’t come to this one you’ll have to come to the Accolades and I think you’d curse me for that one anyway because it’s so boring.”

“Boring? The Accolades? You mean the biggest event of the year for all the tabloids?” you asked. It was hard imagining any of Eddie’s life being boring.

“Worse than Higgins’ speech for our graduating class.” Eddie said seriously. “You thought he was long winded? The Accolades are just a bunch of old farts who like to pat themselves on the back and insult anyone who doesn’t meet their standards.”

You nodded. “Alright, yeah, I guess I would have to take up witchcraft for that.”

“Wait, is she actually a witch?” Jeff said, finally getting up and walking back over.

“If she comes to Hellfire we won’t have to find out.” Eddie laughed and looked directly into the camera. It was unnerving, because that meant that he was getting as close to direct eye contact with you as he could in this current situation. Your heart jumped as his expression shifted. “You are coming, right?”

Maybe it was his big brown doe eyes, or the sincerity in his voice. Maybe it was the small ember of a crush that you had long thought was snuffed out. Maybe it was the way you had already exhausted yourself from your earlier anxiety. Hell, maybe it was the fact that you’d seen him nearly naked for a magazine spread just hours before.

You couldn’t say no, even if you wanted to. And you really did not want to.

“Yeah.” you said quickly. You’d figure out getting time off somehow. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Just tell me where to go.”

Eddie’s chair was pushed away and Paige returned to the camera with a small protest. The five minutes were up.

“I’ve sent you an email with an NDA. Sign it, and we’ll get everything taken care of.” she said.

You wasted no time pulling up the email on your phone, giving it your electronic signature, and sending it back. Though, maybe you should have wasted a little time reading a legal document. Well, it was too late now.

“Alright, you two need to leave now.” Paige said to Eddie and Jeff. “I have to finish up with her here.”

“Wait, what about the drumsticks?” Jeff asked.

“I already hid them.” There was a light in her eyes that you liked. She wasn’t all business, it seemed.

Eddie stuck his head back into view, giving you a full smile with teeth. “I’ll see you when you get here!” he said before Paige shooed them both away again.

The last words you caught from Jeff were a muffled ‘day off’ and ‘campaign’, followed by the clicking of a door.

The next few minutes was Paige gathering your information and giving you a brief rundown of the papers you had just signed. She said that she’d be in touch with you within the next week to send you all of the travel information and to email her with any questions or concerns.

When the call finally ended, you were left staring at the last message sent by WR RECORDS with Paige’s personal email address. It wasn’t even noon and you’d already talked to a former-classmate-turned-rock-star, dodged allegations on being a witch, spoke to the manager of a metal band that you had only just started listening to the night before, and RSVP’d yes to walk the red carpet for one of the biggest alt music awards shows.

You closed the laptop, called out of work, and went back to bed.

---

Please comment and reblog 💜

Tag list: @hellfiredarling @crocwork-clockodile @hitoshislut @kurdtbean @kennedy-brooke @daisyridleyyyy @akira1803

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #Plus One

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illicitlimerence-writes · 1 year

Text

a love story | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 3.4k words request: nopewarnings: fluuuuuuff and maybe some angst? kinda? this was inspired by a dream i had last night 🫣 a/n: me? actually posting something? no way!

my masterlist

(i'm so proud of my boy but honestly wtf did they put in the water during roc they were all INSANE)

the gray clouds looked threatening, they covered the sky completely, leaving the sun nowhere to be found. it was a cold morning, with the crisp air causing the curtains of her bedroom to dance, even if her window was open just a tad bit. she usually loved days like this, being bundled up in a cable knit sweater, watching the raindrops hitting the windows as soft music played in the background, a cup of warm tea in her hands and a good book on her lap.

but those days were usually accompanied by a warm embrace around her shoulders, a hard chest allowing her to rest her back against it, soft lips grazing her neck, her cheeks and lips.

today was not one of those days, for he was not with her, but hours and miles away. after years of being with him, she still couldn’t get used to the idea of him being gone. but she couldn’t be selfish, she had to support him and his dreams as much as he did for hers.

just two more days.

she started her morning as usual. shower, get dressed, light makeup, brush her hair, make breakfast and grab the lunch she made the previous night before leaving her apartment and going to work.

the small book shop downtown sat peacefully, waiting with its pastel yellow walls for customers to arrive. she ate her breakfast as she sat on the bus on her way there, a simple bagel with cream cheese and jam bought from the farmer’s market. she finished just in time for her to skip down the bus steps and onto the streetwalk.

she did her usual routine to open the book shop, like picking a quote from a book to write on the chalkboard wall by the kids’ section, checking that everything was in its right place, collecting the flowers from the shop next door, to brighten up the place. she was so lucky she found that spot for her book shop, with a café on one side, a flower shop on the other, it was quite possibly the perfect combination. every so often she’d receive customers with a coffee cup in their hands, looking for a book to enjoy while relaxing from the day. or people looking for a book as a gift, having already bought a bouquet of flowers.

once the clock turned its hands to tell her it was 9:00 am, she turned the lock on the door and flipped the sign that hung from it, now reading ‘open’.

it was a quiet morning, the rain started around an hour after opening and just picked up from there, with the winds picking up strength as well. she couldn’t spot a soul out there, the town she called home was a ghost town, everyone much preferred staying home than going out.

she wished she’d done so as well, that rest of the day was probably going to be just as slow as the morning.

but a few hours after midday, a young couple entered the book shop. they apologized profusely as they dried their shoes on the carpet she’d placed especially for that.

she smiled at them, waving their worries away as she informed them they could hang their jackets on the coat rack to dry and avoid making a mess. they thanked her, and she noticed how he was the first to reach for his girlfriend’s hand after having to separate to take off their jackets. she watched them walk further into the shop, and she grabbed her phone, opening the music app and changing the preloaded queue, adding a few soft, romantic tunes that fit well with the ambiance of the day, the bookshop, and the couple. songs that reminded her of him.

book shops had always been a special place for her, she could get lost for hours on end, reading the back cover of paperback books, running her fingers along the hardcover spines, sighing over beautiful covers and sprayed edges. but especially, she loved book shops because that’s where she met him.

she was in college, longing for ways to escape the real world. books provided just that, a chance to get lost in fictional places, with words that described endless possibilities and worlds where everything was possible.

the local bookstore was her most frequented place, the owners and workers knew her and trusted her, they knew that the books she took were safe and that she’d take care of them as if they were the most delicate rose petals.

she sat on a velvet sofa, her favorite. it fit two people, but she always claimed it as hers, and no one ever bothered her. not even on that day, when all the other available seats were taken. she was reading a poetry book. she had a lot on her mind and needed something that was quick to read and kept her mind occupied. she had her legs crossed beneath her, the book on one hand as she rested her head on the other. her eyes scanned the pages quickly, re-reading verses that caught her attention and often writing them down in her own notebook. she never was a fan of writing on books, but did like taking notes and scribbling down her thoughts.

her quiet peace was interrupted by a tall body standing in front of her.

“sorry-” she looked up, seeing blue eyes looking down at her. “is this seat taken? all the other chairs are busy and i- i haven’t seen anyone here, so-”

“yeah, it’s okay,” she answered, grabbing her bag and placing it on the floor beneath her.

“thank you,” he smiled at her as he sat, she did the same, returning to her book.

they didn’t speak more that day, he only thanked her again and said goodbye when he was ready to leave. he looked about her age, and she found herself staring at his frame as he left, with his back toward her.

two days later, he was there again. he had the same book he was reading the previous time, whilst she had already finished her poetry book and was now reading a classic tragedy. the routine was the same, none of them talking, simply sitting next to each other as they read and saying goodbye when it was their time to leave. unfortunately, she couldn’t go the rest of the week because of school work, but finally, after a hard week, she walked through the doors, breathing in the familiar scent of ink and pages. she walked straight to her spot, stopping in her tracks as she saw the same guy sitting there already, his backpack on her side of the sofa. he looked up, a smile on his face.

“you’re back,” he said, grabbing his bag and placing it on the floor, like she’d done for him that very first day. she smiled, unable to stop a light flush to rush to her cheeks as she walked to him.

“yeah, school was being a pain,” she said, dropping down beside him.

“well, i’m happy to see you again,” he placed a bookmark between the pages he was reading, closing the book to pay attention to her.

“thanks, i missed being here. this place… it’s like a home away from home.”

“i get it, i only found out about this place a week ago and felt an instant connection, and i’m not an avid reader. or, i wasn’t before coming here for the first time.”

she smiled, nodding her head, that was exactly how she felt.

“i’m mick, by the way,” he offered his hand. she sat up, shaking his hand. she told him her name, and looked down at the book he was reading.

“the great gatsby?”

“yeah, i saw you reading it last week and… you seemed so lost in the book and the pages, you gasped and your eyes widened every so often… you made me want to read it,” he spoke, hoping he didn’t sound like a creep. but he was an observant person, he noticed things.

“oh,” was all she said, crossing her legs beneath her, a position she often found herself in, it was comfortable and meant she was at ease. “and what do you think?” she asked, looking down at the way his fingers delicately tapped the cover of the book.

“it’s really good,” he chuckled, nodding his head to confirm his words. “i’d seen the movie but-”

“it doesn’t compare. it’s a good adaptation but… it’s not the same,”

“yeah,” he agreed.

and then he asked her a question, she answered. then she did, and he answered. and the hours passed but neither of them read the books, they got to know each other, talking and laughing and confessing their favorite tropes, books and even discussing their different stands on a controversial topic in one of their favorite books.

before they knew it, the day turned to night and the owners started getting ready to close the shop. she looked around, noticing they were the only two customers there.

“i’m guessing that’s our cue to leave,” she said, chuckling softly, but didn’t stand up.

“oh- yeah,” he replied, playing with the edges of his book. they both stood up, walking to the exit. she said goodbye to the owners, waving her hand.

“see you tomorrow,” she told them, the words she said every night. “i guess i’ll- see you tomorrow, too,” she smiled.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

“okay. good night,” she said, looking straight at him as she took a step back.

“good night.” he nodded his head, walking backward too, the other way.

after that day their afternoons were spent getting wrapped up in sentences, verses, rhymes, the times new roman font, and each other. they’d walk along the shelves, point to books they’d already read, book they recommended to each other, and books they promised to read together. at one point as the days passed, the distance between them disappeared, they now sat side by side, leaning into each other to read from the same book. other times, one of them would read aloud while the other stared at the ceiling, or at the person reading.

the bookstore was witness to their first meeting, the time they exchanged numbers, their first real goodbye… their first kiss.

their first goodbye. he explained that besides books, his biggest passion in life was racing. he explained the extent of his rising career, the stakes and responsibilities that came with it. and how he’d have to leave several weeks of the year. she remained quiet, taking in his words, understanding that his life was so different from hers. their first goodbye included soft smiles, a gentle touch of hands, a hug that neither of them wanted to end, and a tear streaming down her face as she turned her back to him as she walked away.

their first kiss happened two weeks later. two long weeks he’d been gone, and even though they could count on technology, it wasn’t the same as having him sitting next to her, feeling his warmth and hearing his laugh echoing through the wooden walls of their little nook in the bookshop. mick arrived unannounced, saying hi to the people behind the counter, asking for her. he walked to their spot, seeing her belongings there, but not her. he walked down the long corridor, one shelf after the other, and finally spotted her, leaning against the wall, book covering her face.

"the great gatsby?" he asked. she dropped the book, looking up at him as a smile broke on her face.

"you're here!" she got up, leaving the book forgotten on the floor as she flung herself towards him. "how are you? how did it go?" she said as she threw her arms around his neck. he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close against him.

"it was good, but i don't want to talk about that right now," he replied, putting her down, but she still kept her arms on his neck, he kept his hold of her waist. "you're re-reading the great gatsby already?" he raised an eyebrow.

"yeah, i… this was the first book you read because you saw me, and we started talking because of this book. it's… special."

"that feels so long ago," he said, turning so he had his back against the tall shelf.

"a month and a half."

"hmm…" he smiled, "and what have you been up to these past weeks?" he asked.

"oh! i found the perfect greek mythology retelling, it's about hades and persephone, and all of their struggles, and he loves her so much, it's so beautifully written and-" her rambling was cut short by a pair of soft lips on hers.

it was soft and slow and tender and so delicate, he moved his lips against hers as if they were a sugar cube that could break with the wrong movement. she was left breathless as he fully circled her middle with his arms, turning them so her back was against the hard wooden shelves.

their first kiss was perfect. there was no other way to describe it. it was shared in the place that had a special meaning for both of them, they were both eager and devoted to the kiss, not wanting it to end, loving the feeling, the rushing heartbeats and flushing cheeks, the shivers and goosebumps after a particular sensitive touch, it was magical, and no words could ever even begin to describe it.

they'd try to find poems, verses, lines, paragraphs that could put into words everything they felt at that moment, but nothing could ever come close to fully capture the electrifying energy that surrounded them.

and five years later, after endless kisses, touches, intimate moments, book after book, their love only grew larger and larger, deeper and deeper, an undeniable and undefiable connection that could overcome everything.

but sometimes that was easier said than done, and as she stared at the young couple, that reminded her so much of them, she couldn't help but wish he was there. she never said it, she didn't want to make him feel bad, but everytime he walked out the door was hard on her. he was her rock, the one person she could count on to always be there for her. and sometimes all she wanted was him. just his presence made her feel at ease.

and especially in slow days like this, when her mind was left free to wander and think endlessly, she couldn't help but wish she could just wrap her arms around him and keep him close forever. he was so kind, so gentle with her, everything she longed for in a partner and so much more, traits that only made sense because of him.

but she powered through it, picking a high fantasy novel to keep her mind busy, building the images on her head and creating the characters she was reading about. every so often her eyes would find the couple, sharing kisses and giggles as they scanned the books.

maybe that was the magic of bookshops, the chance to escape the real, rainy world outside and be consumed by the endless possibilities the stories inside had to offer.

once the rain died down, the couple left, they bought a couple of books and she dropped a couple of bookmarks in their bag as a gift. the rest of the day was the same, with only two or three more customers arriving and leaving quickly, not wanting to get caught under the rain once it started again.

with about an hour left until closing time, she decided it was enough. she highly doubted anyone else was coming anytime soon. so she flipped the sign on the door, locking it as she began to clean up. the playlist had finished playing, and the only sounds were that of her footsteps.

until a knock on the door startled her. she could only make out a tall body, head covered by the black hood of a jacket, her immediate stranger danger siren went off in her head, but she still approached the door, grabbing the nearest thing she could find as a weapon.

a hardcover copy of les mis.

she unlocked the door, opening it just wide enough for her to peek her head forward.

"sorry, we're closing early because of the weather." she explained, hands clutching the book against her chest.

"really? i wanted to buy that new emily henry book," the man said, looking up at her with a smile on his face.

"mick!" she said, dropping the copy of the french novel and skipping down the few steps leading up to the shop. she wrapped her legs around him, hands over his neck, pulling him close.

"get inside! you're not wearing a jacket," he laughed, walking with her on top of him. "it's nice to see your habit of dropping books when i stop by unannounced hasn't gone away."

"i've missed you so much," she said, keeping her face buried in his neck. "all day… all i wanted to do was be near you." she mumbled against his skin, feeling him walking with her in his arms.

"i'm here now," he placed her on the counter, beside the cash register, and softly placed his hands on her face, leaning back to look at her. he tilted her chin up, getting lost in her eyes.

"you're here." she whispered, her fingers playing with his hair. "how are you here?" she asked.

"got done early. took a flight. i was going to wait for you at home but… i wanted to see you. i missed you too much." she smiled at his words, feeling butterflies in her stomach as he ticked a strand of hair behind her ear. even after so many years together, he still made her feel like they were falling in love for the first time all over again.

"how was everything?" she asked, tentatively. she knew that sometimes he wasn't in the mood to talk about his job, he liked leaving racing on the paddock and just enjoy their time together.

"good, talks about next year are going well," he said, squeezing her hips. she smiled, knowing how much he deserved a seat on the f1 grid.

"i'm happy to hear that. did you get any reading done?" she asked, changing the subject.

"finished 'little women', started 'circe'."

"ooh, you really want to complete your reading challenge this year, don't you?"

"i only have two books left." he smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"well done, my love!" she said, kissing his cheek, too.

"and you? how many books did you finish?"

"night circus and i'm halfway through anna karenina."

"a big book?" he raised his eyebrows. "i'm proud of you, baby."

"thanks," she blushed under his stare, her hands finding his, locking their fingers together.

her eyes met his, soft smiles painted on their lips, chests rising up and down in sync. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers softly. he rubbed his nose against hers, then placed his lips on top of hers.

the first kiss after a goodbye was always a special one. there was so much longing, love and pure emotion poured into a reunion kiss, it always brought them back to their very first kiss shared a few moons ago.

the first kiss after a goodbye always left her breathless after. it was like her body was getting used to having him close again, and no matter how many times they said goodbye and hello, it always felt like the first time.

"what do you think about going home… turn on the fireplace, make hot cocoa, and read a good book?" he suggested.

"i'd love that," she smiled against his lips, leaning forward once more. "what are you in the mood for?"

"hmm… a love story?" he raised an eyebrow.

she nodded, pushing him back to jump off the counter. she held his hand and led him to the first book that crossed her mind.

"how about a tragic love story?" she said, grabbing a copy of the blue paperback book. "quite possibly the greatest love story," she teased.

"impossible. ours is way better," mick said, grabbing the copy of 'the great gatsby' and holding her hand.

and he was right.

out of all the stories she'd read, theirs was her favorite one. and the best part was, it wasn't fictional, and more importantly, it didn't have to end.

-- take a shot each time you read the word 'book'

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joshsbimbo · 4 months

Note

hii i saw that you were looking for requests and first thing that came to my mind was munch mike, just something about mike being obsessed with reader’s pussy does something to me😭

Also feel free to ignore and don’t forget to drink water <33

you thought i was feeling you?

that — a munch 🤭

headcannon

pairings: switch! mike schmidt x switch! reader

warnings: fem genitalia, kinda cnc, sniffing…, asphyxiation, oral (fem receiving), mommy kink, “princess”, drool, hair tugging

a/n: FUN FACT! “needy boy” was supposed to be munch! mike but i got distracted LOL

thank you anon for being so sweet u made my heart warm <3 YOU DRINK WATER AS WELL!!! AND EVERYONE ELSE READING THIS

also i loveeeee ice spice i HADDD to quote her song

so much yapping SORRY but the pics i chose!?? omg one dommy and the other desperate for mommy

☆ top! mike ☆

♡ mike couldn’t get his hands off of you, he just couldn’t believe you were his and he was your’s. always exploring your body with his hands or his lips, especially in your most sensitive place.

♡ “let me make my princess feel good..” he says between kisses, trailing down your already naked body. he was fully clothed, not bothering with his throbbing cock in his boxers.

♡ i’m sorry but sniffing is hot. he would sniff down there and get completely lost in your scent. he loved it, and it fueled his desire to eat you out even more.

♡ pulling down your panties aggressively, kissing your inner thigh, making you squeal under his touch, he fucking loved it. especially when you begged for it, “mikey.. please.. i need you..”

♡ to be needed is what he desperately wanted, especially by a cute girl like you. but he also loved to tease you, even if he was drooling at the smell and sight of your wet folds.

♡ blowing air onto your sensitive clit before leaning in to kiss your wet cunt, then sucking your swollen clit.

♡ his hands forcing your waist down, your thighs squishing his head, and he melted into it. continuing to lap his tongue into your hole and up to your clit, even when you came he couldn’t stop.

♡ driving you over and over and over the edge, not wanting to stop to breathe. you’re practically screaming for him to stop, but he couldn’t help it. your overstimulated screams made his brain so fuzzy, eagerly eating you out until his face was turning purple.

♡ once he started, he couldn’t stop.

☆ bottom! mike ☆

♡ kissing his cheek while he babbles about how badly he missed you. “mommy, lemme show you, please..”

♡ whining and sitting on your lap, kissing your face and trailing down your chest to between your legs. licking your clothed cunt as he looks up, making sure you’re okay, his cheeks flushed.

♡ him sniffing down there, his eyes rolling back, and his cheeks becoming more flushed. he’s practically drooling, “momma.. can i pleaseeee… please!”

♡ as soon as you give him permission he’s sliding down your panties and licking your dripping cunt like he hasn’t had anything to eat in months. moaning and whimpering, sending vibrations against your clit.

♡ “you’re doing such a good job, mikey..” and he’s grinding against the bed!! his cock is leaking so much pre cum, ESPECIALLY when you get rough!!

♡ your hands in his curls, gripping onto them, and grinding your pussy against his face. he loves that he’s making his mommy feel good, cumming inside his boxers. even louder moans vibrate against your clit, mumbling “m-mommy..”

♡ that doesn’t make him stop grinding against the bed though, causing him to cry from the overstimulation. he looks up at you with his teary but so pretty brown eyes, searching for yours. as you look into them, he’s still eagerly eating you out, causing you to cum on his tongue.

♡ of course he tries to lick every drop of your cum, swallowing it all, and overstimulating your sensitive clit. “baby, s-slow down!”

♡ usually he listened to his mommy but her moans sounded so pretty to him. looking up at his pretty momma and watching your back arch, and your furrowed eyebrows. his heart skipped a beat!!!

♡ when he’s finally done, he’ll look into your eyes and ask, “did i do a good job, mommy?”

i hope u enjoyed this <3 ily

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x reader #mommy kink #lamb writes

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lizthewriter · 4 months

Text

love is so embarrassing / ted logan

PAIRING ted logan x fem!reader

SUMMARY you continually give your all to a jock who could care less - ted makes you realize there's mucb better options out there. namely, him.

TAGS ted logan x fem!reader, high school, prom, og!boyfriend is a complete dick, best friends to lovers, fluff, angst, loser!ted, kissing, cursing, canon-typical lingo, most excellent

QUOTE "just watch as i crucify myself, / for some weird second string, / loser who's not worth mentioning, / my god, love's embarrassing as hell," - love is embarrassing by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 1.7K

WRITTEN 12.30.2023

ted -

you stormed into ted's bedroom, slamming the door behind you. ted watched from his bed with an expression of mostly shock, mingled with a slight bit of awe. you flopped onto his bed, buried your face into his pillow, and let out a feral scream. he placed down the magazine he'd been flipping through and held a finger next to your side, weighing the pros and cons of poking you to elicit a reaction. before he had time to do so, you immediately sat up with an angry pout and offered him the most sympathetic look you could while so angry.

"sorry, it's just . . . i hate him. i hate him! he said we would be spending the whole night together, but yet again he's made plans with his 'friends' and he's 'so so sorry.' honestly, i'm getting sick of it!"

oh, you were angry about that boyfriend of yours. ted wasn't a fan at all - the way he treated you was most heinous. he didn't really seem to care about you - if anything, he treated you like a side piece. no, Ted didn't like him one bit.

"don't be sorry," ted said, flashing you one of his trademark grins. somehow, just with a smile, he was always able to make you feel better. "I hate him too! a dickweed like him doesn't deserve a babe- i mean, a girl - like you."

your lips spread into a thin line, which he supposed was an attempt at a smile. "thanks teddy," you responded softly, patting him on the thigh. you tried to think about something else, move the topic of conversation away from your good-for-nothing boyfriend. "so, whatcha doing?"

"me?" ted asked, a little suprised that you were interested. you had spent a lot less time with him and bill ever since you started dating that douchebag. sometimes, he thought you had forgotten about him completely - and that made him feel totally bogus. thus, his eyes sparkled in excitement and he began to talk very fast because when was the last time you two had some time to just chat? "i'm just looking at these totally awesome dudes, to get uh - uh -" he glanced upwards in an attempt to remember the word he wanted to use. "well, i'm writing music for wyld stallyns and stuff."

"oh, cool!" you exclaimed. "can I see?"

"no!" ted responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. he didn't want you to see the many failed attempts at writing a most bodacious love song for you. "they're still, er, works in progress, dudette!"

"oh, well, all right!" you paused, lost in thought, before you asked, "wanna go watch a movie?"

you -

you had felt the guilt creep in rather quickly once you realized how much you'd been procrastinating on hanging out with your best friends, bill and ted. you had been so hyperfixated on your boyfriend that you had completely forgotten about your weekly movie night and failed to meet up with bill to help him paint some posters for a wyld stallyns. you decided to apologize by treating them to a day at the mall, buying ice cream and movie tickets for all of you.

while you and bill chatted vehemently about perhaps the coolest sci-fi film you've ever seen, ted was a bit preoccupied watching your so-called boyfriend get a bit too cozy with cindy. cindy, who most considered to be the prettiest girl in your grade, was head cheerleader (though you had always been the prettiest, in ted's mind). you noticed that ted was being uncharacteristically quiet and followed his line of sight. immediately, your jubilant expression fell to something much more hardened.

"of course he's here. why wouldn't he be." he somehow always found a way to ruin your best days - and who the hell was that he was copying up with?

"hey, wow, look over there!" bill said all of a sudden, pointing to the lower floor of the mall, in the opposite direction. you didn't notice the look that bill gave ted and glanced to where he was pointing. there was nothing there.

"i don't see anything," you said with furrowed brows, completely distracted now and confused as to what exactly bill had spotted. ted had rushed to your side and looked down as well.

"what? i don't-" ted let out what sounded like a small whimper of pain (you didn't see bill step on his foot). "oh yeah! duh! the thing, you didn't see . . . the thing?"

"what thing?" you asked exasperatedly.

"come on!" bill exclaimed, running towards the escalator. ted barked out a laugh before quickly following him in pursuit.

"wait, guys!" you didn't realize until you jad gotten home - they were distracting you from your so-called boyfriend. you couldn't help but smile the rest of the day.

ted -

you and ted walked off the bus together, laughing your asses off as you made the slow walk to your houses. the two of you had lived next to each other for as long as you could remember. the bond between the two of you had remained strong ever since.

ted watched as you through your head back with a bark of laughter and he admired the way your grin split your face, the way your hair tickled the nape of your neck, how the sun twinkled in your beautiful eyes. he was snapped back to reality when you had straightened out your head, your entire back even, and stared in suprise at someone sitting on your front lawn. they held a boombox, romantic music blaring through the speakers. they held a sign, one that made ted sick to the very depths of his stomach. will you go to prom with me?

ted had been planning on asking you that very same question later today. but it was too late - you were running up to that douchebag, your arms thrown around his neck as you shouted "yes!" rather a bit loudly. that sound is punctuated in his ears for the rest of the day.

later, when you were both sitting in his room doing homework (well, you were doing homework - he was sulking while pretending to write about history stuff) he placed down his pencil. this drew your attention.

"what do you see in him?" ted asked.

"what?" you responded with furrowed brows, obviously not yet accustomed to the sudden change in conversation.

"what do you see in him? your boyfriend? he's not - not smart or anything. not that funny. not even that good at football."

you leaned back and closed your math textbook. "what's that supposed to mean?" he felt uncomfortable now, at your offended tone, and wondered whether he should have spoke up at all.

"he just doesn't treat you right," ted grumbled. "you deserve to be treated most excellently - and he certainly does not treat you as such. you saw him with that girl at the mall."

you nodded slowly before gathering all your books together in a rush, fury painted all over your face.

"where are you going?" ted asked innocently.

"away from you," you responded harshly. "you know what i think, ted, I think you're jealous that i have a date for prom and you don't. don't pick on my boyfriend because your miserable."

"what, no, that's -" you held a hand to his face as you left his room, slamming the door behind you. "non-non-heinous, man."

you -

you smiled for the picture your parents took with you, your boyfriend, and bill and ted (the boys were glaring daggers at each other, not to your awareness). as you were ushered out the door, you were met by the sight of a limo out front.

you felt someone snake a finger under the strap of your dress, pulling it back and snapping it against your skin. you let out a yelp, slapping your boyfriend in the arm, half-serious. "ow!"

"well show a little more skin next time, missy, i thought we were having a fun time," he responded with another cruel chuckle. you wrapped your arma ariund your shoulders with discomfort, pulling the straps of your dress further upwards. yoy glanced towards ted, his teeth clenched and fists crumpled. maybe he was right. maybe he really was a douchebag. it was time you didn't let him treat you like shit.

"well if that's all you cared about tonight, getting your dick wet, then i suggest you find another easily-manipulated girl to be your prom bitch," you barked back sharply. as soon as you realized the words that had left your mouth, you slapped a hand over your mouth. bill arched a brow at ted in suprise, who let out a snicker.

"you find that funny, logan?" your (ex-)boyfriend said to ted.

"yeah, i do," ted responded, blowing out his chest, trying to seem tough. only a second later there was a sickening crunch, a blow dealt to his jaw. he fell down to the ground, his face turned away from you. you rushed over to ted, asking if he was okay. you only heard your ex scoff and walk back towards the limo.

"ted, let me see your face," you said gently. he turned his face towards you and you let out a gasp. his jaw was all bruised up. "oh god! i'm so sorry!"

"cool, dude! battle scar!" bill exclaimed excitedly, letting out a chuckle. ted pushed himself to be sitting upright, a grin spreading like an infection across his face.

"i totally pissed him off, didn't i?" ted asked, obviously very smug with himself despite having just been punched square in the face. "I told ya he was bogus."

"i should have listened to you earlier," you responded sheepishly, wincing at the memory of raising your voice at ted. "I wish i could make it up to you."

"well, there is a way . . ." ted trailed off, looking towards bill. he responded to ted with an ostentatious thumbs up, and ted returned to your gaze with another lazy grin. "go to prom with me?"

#ted logan x reader #ted logan x you #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]

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rqgnarok · 10 months

Note

Last ask with TS just melted my heart so building on that… Slow dancing to Sweet Nothing by TS with Jamie Tartt??? All the fluff

jamie and taylor swift together, ya'll know my weaknesses way too well

Jamie frowns. "Do I know this song?"

You turn from where you're cutting some veggies for dinner, eyebrows raised. "I sure hope you do. We've only listened to the album a million times since it came out."

The kitchen is bathed in golden sunlight, the last few rays of the sunset hitting your home just right as the day ends. Jamie's on the couch with a book in his hands; a used, tattered copy of something he reads more out of comfort than the desire to actually focus.

It's been a slow day, the kind that happens after a good win the previous night that leaves Jamie tired and satisfied, wanting nothing more than to spend the next 24 at home with you by his side.

Of course, you were more than happy to oblige. Hours filled with sleep and sleepy sex, quick snacks and lots of water until your stomachs begged for actual food. So here you were now, Sunday mostly gone, a Taylor Swift playlist playing softly in the background while making dinner.

The song ends and another one begins, a plain, sweet piano melody making you smile down at the food. Suddenly, Jamie's vacated his spot on the couch and walked up behind you to wrap his arms around your middle, tucking his face into your neck and kissing the skin.

You hide another giddy expression. Sweet Nothing was one of Jamie's favorite songs from the album from the get-go, always thinking of you when it played. As a public figure who has spent too long in the spotlight with every single part of his personality up for display and inspection, your relationship had been quiet at the beginning, from the public and Jamie's teammates since he was between teams and had a target on his back.

You took it like a champ, following his cues and letting him make a shelter out of you and your relationship, somewhere he could be himself from every angle; loud and unapologetic, small and quiet, sweet and eager to love. Loving him back has been the easiest thing you've ever done.

"This one 'm sure I know," he murmurs, chest glued to your back, warm and safe. He's wearing a hoodie and shorts, and you're wearing nothing but an oversized shirt. "Come dance with me."

"Five minutes ago you were so hungry you were dying," you quote his own words back at him in a terrible impression of his accent, earning yourself a poke to the ribs. You jump further into him, making it easier for him to whisk you away from the counter.

"I can wait three more minutes," he assures, placing your arms around his neck and his own on your hips, keeping you close. He starts rocking you side to side, his forehead to yours. "Wanna have you close, angel."

Any joke sitting ready on your tongue dissipates at his words, soft and sweet and so very Jamie. "You always have me, baby."

Jamie only crowds closer, mouth to your ear, singing surprisingly in tune along with the song. "You say 'what a mind', this happens all the time..."

#jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #leo writes

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crash-and-cure · 1 year

Text

Hallelujah (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Gif credit to @troubleinapinksuit

Summary: In which Cinderella is a no-nonsense, semi-workaholic nurse and Prince Charming is a drug-addicted rockstar on a downward spiral and newly discovered obsessive tendencies. Truly a fairy tale worthy of sin city.

A/N: Anybody ever open up requests and then disappear for like two weeks or am I alone? I promise that the next ones should be out sooner than this one at the cost of being shorter, but I came up with the opening line and I just went off. Did you know that gatorade used to be in glass bottles? It makes sense but it’s a weird thing to think about. Why am I telling you all this? Becuase I did about twenty minutes of research on this topic for a detail that ultimately did not make it into this story so this is my way of making up for it to myself.

Warnings: Depictions of a person experiencing and accepting death. Depictions and POV of a person experiencing an overdose. Non-consensual drugging for both Elvis and the reader. Dubious consent (Please note this is not related to the non-consensual drugging, this is here due to alcohol and false pretenses being involved). Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of obsessive, manipulative, and delusional behavior. Kidnapping. Explicit sexual content depicted that includes Penetrative sex (m/f), oral sex (f.recieving), and worship kink. Mentions of religion that borders on zealotry and a bible quote. Self-blame. Probably more that I am blanking on. Excessive use of “Angel” as a nickname for the reader. Please do not interact if you are under 18.

Word Count: 10.8k

My Masterlist

They don’t know, Elvis thinks as he starts to sway. These folks don’t know they’re watching a murder.

Elvis can feel it in his bones, that this stage is where he’s going to die. To be honest he felt it maybe five songs ago. He almost takes comfort in how fitting it is, that his life was a stage and now it’s gonna end on one.

He knows he should want to fight it, if not for himself then for Lisa, Priscilla, his daddy, Dodger, somebody else who relies on him, anybody really. But he's so goddamn tired of all of it, and he just wants to rest.

Not even an hour ago he had learned the hard truth about that son of a bitch. How he’s lied to him for years, and how that rat bastard clipped his wings. He had originally come out here with the intention of giving a hell of a performance, firing that asshole right up here, walking off stage and leaving Vegas forever.

But I’ll show him. I’ll show ‘em all, he thinks hazily. I’m gon’ fly away from here, maybe all the way to the rock of eternity if I can.

“I’d like to turn the house lights down,” he says like he has a hundred times before. “Now that you’ve seen me I’d like to take a look atchu.”

He had made that plan before his tongue started feeling like sandpaper in his mouth, his head started spinning like a top, and breathing became far more laborious than he remembers it ever being. He idly wonders if this is how his mama felt when she went. He can probably ask her when he sees her soon. Dying up here doesn’t scare him too much anymore now that he’s had time to accept that that is what's happening. So he figured if this was going to be his last performance, this was undoubtedly going to be his best one.

He never understood that phrase swan song, why sing when you know you’re going to die? But the better question now is why not sing when you know you’re going to die? Why not declare I’m dying and I want everybody to see it?

Let them watch, he thinks venomously as he breathes heavily into the mic for what will most definitely be the last time. Let them all witness what “Colonel Tom Parker” did to me.

“Ladies and Gentleman, you’ve been a lovely audience,” he says, hoping it doesn’t sound too slurred. “Thank you.”

In that single moment before he knows he’s going to collapse he looks one last time out into the audience he loved so much, but his blurry vision makes it impossible to see most of them. This is what he chose, this is who he chose over, everything his family, his friends, his health. The fact he can’t even see most of them, hurts him in a way that the drugs can’t mask. It’s cruel yet fitting really, this is nothing less than he deserves.

But in a sea of faces that all blur and blend together the one thing he can clearly see is you. You’re standing in the front row, your brows drawn together and concern marring your beautiful face, something he appreciates so that he can at least leave this earth knowing that at least someone cared. You're dressed in a pure white dress, something much more simple than he's used to from the women that attend his shows. Even amongst the women you’re surrounded by, you stand out as a daisy in a bed of roses, he’s glad at least the last thing he’ll ever see is something so beautiful.

It gets windy all of a sudden, as he feels cool air blow against the side of his face.

No… wait… he’s just falling.

He hasn’t been sleeping much in the past few days, but if there was ever a time to do so, now feels like the perfect time for it. He simply waits for the inevitable feeling of his head hitting the stage, though with everything he took before coming out here he doubts he’ll even be able to feel that.

But it never comes. Instead he feels his head being cradled in a soft hand, and he opens his heavy eyelids and you’re there again. He watches as you use the table to scramble onto the stage before the curtains close, and he sees you up close for the first time. He doesn’t know if it’s from the spotlight behind you outlining your silhouette or something else entirely, but having a better look at you, your beauty goes from simple to nothing short of otherworldly.

An angel? He thinks blearily. Mama always did say they would be beautiful. He can see that you’re saying something, but his head is too muddled to process any of it.

So you’re here to take me away from this awful place, he thinks with a small smile. He didn’t like to think about death too much before he was faced with. He is was a firm believer in a heaven and hell, and many things he’s done in his life have more than earned him a spot down below. But you’re here now so it couldn’t have been all that bad in the grand scheme of things.

He reaches out to touch you and you grab onto his hand, look at it for just a second. He sees your worry grow as you get in closer to his face and he feels your feather-like but oh-so warm touch to his lips that feel so cold now. He feels other hands on him now trying to lift him up, and he notices his crew around him, but all he can focus on is you. It’s hard not to when you physically keep one of his eyes open, and he sees your worry go into full blown panic.

He tries, but it’s getting hard to breathe let alone speak right now. Please, he wants to say, don’t leave me with them. All he’s able to do to convey this message is a pathetic squeeze to your hand, and suddenly you’re gone just as quickly as you came. He feels his eyes well up so afraid now he’ll die without you there.

Everybody is surrounding him now trying to speak to him, but he’s desperately looking for you, and he feels as though there’s something he’s forgetting to do but he can’t remember what. Jerry comes into view and his mouth is moving and it looks like he’s shouting but nothing is coming out. Billy is there taking off his jacket, bunching it up underneath his head but still he can’t see you. Red’s slapping his face while Charlie’s pouring water on it, though he barely feels either of them. Everybody’s trying something, trying to save him, but he’s only concerned about you finding him and taking him away from here.

All these hands are touching him, most of them he doesn’t know, or at least doesn’t recognize. Maybe he is going to hell or fuck, maybe Vegas is hell for all he knows. It makes about as much sense as everything else in his life, which he doesn’t need to worry about for much longer. He feels like there’s something he’s supposed to be doing right about now but he’s too goddamn tired for any of it anymore and he wants to close his eyes until he sees you once again.

You look more disheveled than he remembers and now you’re furiously swatting at all of the hands on him as you shout at all of them. He feels your hands on his chest now and you’re pressing down repeatedly, before he can even speculate what you’re doing he feels your lips on his and it’s the warmest he thinks he’s ever felt. The kind of warmth that fills up his whole chest…

Oh right… he needs to breathe.

It feels as though he blinks and suddenly he smells the familiar tobacco scent of the casino. He still feels like he’s on his back but he’s floating and you’re above him the harsh lights of the casino floor giving him a better look at you. I was right, he thinks. You’re going to take me away from here. Satisfied with his assumption, he closes his eyes for what feels like the final time and he can feel his lips curve into a smile as your lips meet his once more.

Suddenly what feels like a bolt of lightning strikes through him, and his eyes are wide open again. For a few seconds, everything looks and sounds so much clearer, his muscles seem to have finally woken up, and his breathing has become far steadier. Is this what Captain Marvel Jr. felt like when he would say Shazam? It had to be because in those few moments he felt as though he could take on the world, especially when he finally gets a good look at you.

You’re hovering over him and the smile you give him would have made him weak in the knees if they weren’t already so. He reaches out, desperate to touch you but he feels darkness creep back into the edge of his vision once more. He knows he’s going to pass out right before he does, but he still tries only barely grazing your neck before the weight of his arm becomes too much to bear. But his hand catches on something before it eventually gives way and it finally falls.

He feels something in his hand but he’s far too tired to speculate, only using the last of both his conscious thoughts and strength to grip on tight to it. But he loses the strength to even keep his eyes open and he blacks out.

He can’t open his eyes, but he’s awake. Though that comes and goes and even then there isn’t much to say about it. He hears a mix of familiar and unfamiliar voices, the bed and sheets he’s laying in aren’t as comfy as he’s used to, and all he can smell is an oddly sterile smell. But something he can definitely feel is your parting gift in his grasp. Everytime he feels conscious he would focus on that and spend his energy trying to figure out what it was in his hand.

Ironically enough what does bring him back to the waking world is when he feels a small hand trying to remove it from him. His eyes snap open to try to find the culprit only to be met with his own blue eyes staring back at him.

“DADDY!” Lisa Marie sobs into his chest. “You’re awake!”

The next hour or so is a flurry of activity with doctors and nurses surrounding him asking him questions and checking the various machines around him. Now that he’s awake he is able to get a good look at what you left him: A small crescent made of smooth white stone and a very broken gold chain.

You were real, he thinks, practically giddy before he’s quickly brought back to Earth as he searches the room only to find you’re not there. Even seeing Priscilla after so long since the divorce doesn’t do much to soften his disappointment at your absence.

“‘Cilla what the hell happened that night?” he would ask after Lisa had fallen asleep tucked into his side. He had avoided the topic as long as he could stand by this point, the doctors keeping quiet about it.

She takes a long sigh, her eyes glassy, before she gazes out the window and upon seeing the International in the distance she hardens herself for what she has to say. “You stopped breathing. From what the doctors here told me, Dr. Nick gave you way too much of something and you just stopped. There was a girl in the front row that was able to keep you goin’ until the ambulance got there.”

“Who was she? The girl who saved me.”

Priscilla shrugs at this, “Just some nurse.”

She has never been more wrong about anything, Elvis decides at that moment. “What was her name?” Elvis questions, maybe a little harsher than needed.

Priscilla looks slightly taken aback at his intensity, “I don’t know Elvis. I got here the day after you collapsed and when I learned what she did, I wanted to thank her personally. But even the guys say she was long gone by the time they got here the same night.”

This makes him incredibly sad, that you would leave him so soon after you saved him.

“Elvis,” Priscilla says severely. “I’m not going to put Lisa through this again. So either you shape up and go to that place in San Diego, or…” she cracks at this one. “Or you’ll never see either of us again.” It’s certainly not a light threat for her to make, Elvis realizes, but nobody wants to watch a person slowly kill themself. And as he rubs his thumb along the pendant of your necklace, he realizes why you had to go.

Jerry finally came to see him the next day, looking worse than Elvis felt. Him and his father had been given the hard job of damage control for the whole incident, as Elvis has now found himself without a manager. Apparently some of the “medicine” in Dr. Nick's bag was at best less than reputable and at worst fully illegal, and when pressed Nick pointed the finger at The Colonel. Both of them were taken into custody and were currently under investigation, but considering the world of shit the two have found themselves in, it looks like their best bet will be to pay damages and more.

In real time Elvis heard as their house of cards fell apart, and suddenly the prospect of his life didn’t seem as daunting as it did when he accepted his death a week ago. Even if he had died, this was all inevitably meant to come out, the only difference being he wouldn’t have been here to see it.

But he is still here, all thanks to you. His Angel.

In one fell swoop, you not only saved his life, but made his life worth living again. Even if you were of this Earth, there is no doubt in his mind that you were heaven-sent. The lord works in mysterious ways and ain’t no way this was all a coincidence. You were meant to be in that audience. He was meant to have gotten to this point. You were both destined to be.

To him the message couldn’t be clearer: He had to leave Vegas, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you.

“Jerry this is it. I gotta get clean,” Elvis says, clutching onto the token you left for him. This has been a long time coming, he didn’t listen when he was told the obvious by Priscilla, by his boys, even by himself. “‘Cilla told me about this place in San Diego, and I think I best go.”

“Course, EP,” he says with a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You take the time you need, and I’ll handle everything from the outside.”

“You’re a good man,” he says as he hesitates about what he’s going to request next. Of course Jerry is no stranger to a task like this, but this ain’t like those other times. Because you’re not just some girl he wants to fuck between shows, you’re his angel. But he himself won’t be able to do this while he’s getting clean. “While I’m in there, I need you to do somethin’ for me” Elvis said, surer in his next course of action than he has been in years.

The next few months were hard, honestly if it weren’t for knowing that he had to get better before he could see you again, he’s not sure he would have lasted. So he followed all the rules, took what the doctors gave him, went to therapy, the whole nine yards. There were even days where he could hardly get out of bed, it was so bad.

But it was you, his angel, that gave him strength. Those days in rehab when he felt so cold to the point of shaking, he thought of your warm touch, and he could feel himself steady. When he felt his chest getting tight, he imagined your lips on his breathing life back into him, and he would breathe easier. The nights when he could do nothing but pace around his room restless and irritable, he would press your necklace to his lips and recite a prayer to you, and he would dream sweet dreams of a life with you. He made vows of loving and cherishing you once he found you, and promises of everything the two of you would do once he got clean. How the both of you would never see that hellish place again, and how happy you would be together.

Every single success he had in rehab was because of you, but as his leave date approached he still worried about how long he would be able to keep this up without you. However he trusts Jerry, that if you weren’t already back at Graceland, then at the very least he would know where to find you.

But Jerry failed. He couldn’t find you, and Elvis’ subsequent rage was one for the history books. All of them had the gall to be surprised at his reaction, having never seen him getting so worked up about a girl.

They don’t understand, he thought. You’re not just some girl. You’re my angel.

The only thing that was able to reel him back was their hail mary of a plan to lure you out. The closest any of them could come was that you were in some way associated with the ER he ended up at, but nothing else. He hated the idea of going back to Vegas, but if it brought you back to him, so be it. You walked into hell to save him, so how could he do any less for you?

The days leading up to his last Vegas show, he spends time with Lisa Marie, knowing that he won’t be able to do so again until he’s found you. On that last night she ends up asking for a story, and he could only really think of one that was worth telling. He told her the story of the foolish king, the evil wizard, and the beautiful angel. How the angel was sent by the lord himself to save the king from the evil wizards clutches. And it was with her help was the King finally able to banish the evil wizard forever.

“And did they live happily ever after Daddy?” she asked while drawing you as he described.

He pauses at that and looks down as he fidgets with your necklace before he says, “They sure will baby girl.”

—-----------------------

You were not having a good time.

Of course you would be the one responsible for patching up almost ten men after a bachelor party ended in a knife fight. Only in Vegas, you think as you stitch up your third man that night. You scowl slightly at the crooked sutures before you, but you try to hide that considering that the man before you is one of the more affable (read:sober) ones in the group.

I’m out of practice, you think bitterly. Luckily the rest of your lot seem to only have surface wounds that just require bandaging, so you don’t have to see your work get progressively sloppier. Even though you had been back for awhile since your leave, you had been readjusting to the pace of the ward, and tonight was the first night Verna, your Senior Nurse, trusted you to handle more than administrative work.

You’re not sure if you can blame your poor job entirely on being out of practice as there is still some stiffness in your now mostly healed hand, though you’re not about to go saying anything lest Verna hear anything about it. That traitor, you think, who turned what was supposed to be a two week mandatory vacation, and added a three-month paid medical leave for a broken hand, in spite of your protests. So the last thing you want or need is more time off.

What stings the most about the injury to your hand was that it wasn’t the initial injury that did the most damage it was the fact that you kept using it that really fucked it up. And Verna was able to point that out as a metaphor for why you were in desperate need of a break.

Though it’s not like you had a choice but to keep using it that night. And in all honesty you would do it all over again.

Once you finish up on the lot of them and have them on their way out, all under some light painkillers and apparently the best of friends again, you figure now is as good a time as any to take your lunch. It’s a Friday night, from experience you know things are only going to get progressively crazier tonight, and eating now as opposed to later is the way to go. So you make your way to the cafeteria for the blandest food in the world, and find your work mom.

When you first began at this ER, Verna had all but immediately adopted you as her own, and what started out as an overbearing and slightly annoying mentor relationship, turned into a more endearing friendship than you could have imagined. Though that didn’t mean she still didn’t have those overbearing tendencies of hers, as evidenced by her previous crusade to get you to finally use your accrued vacation days. And the way she’s practically buzzing in her seat tells you that you haven’t seen the last of it.

“What are you planning?” you question as you sit down with your food.

“What do you mean?” she says feigning innocence.

“You have that same look in your eye that you get when you’re scheming something that will inevitably teach me a lesson about my life and/or job,” you say, self-aware as to how these things usually go.

“Bones, you’re being paranoid,” she all but sings, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the use of your nickname. Nurse Bones the rest of the staff call you, after the Star Trek character, and you can’t say it doesn’t fit. Abrasive and brusque is how you’re usually described by patients, and admittedly you could stand to work on your bedside manner. But to be fair it tends to be the very thing that’ll keep most patients alive. Due to your stubborn attitude, you have found that you have a knack for getting answers out of even the most belligerent patients, which has done wonders in saving time and reducing the likelihood of accidentally causing more damage due to a patient lying.

You narrow your eyes at her, but she still maintains that innocent smile.

“By the way, you have next Friday off,” she casually drops, while taking a sip of her coffee.

“Goddamn it, Verna.”

She puts her hands up in defense with an easy smile. “If you want you can think of it as work considering you’re going to be representing the hospital itself.”

You sigh in defeat knowing you can’t say no to her. “What is this all about?”

“Oh just about a certain rockstar who's doing his final performance in the city and he wants the entire medical staff that saved his life present,” she says, all the while, still able to maintain the coy act.

It admittedly takes you longer than it should to put the pieces together because you honestly haven't thought about that night in a while. When your sisters had come to you with the extra ticket to the concert you had been excited for it, even going so far as to plan for it to be the kick off to the vacation Verna had been bullying you into taking.

“You’re one of my best nurses in the ward,” she had argued. “The last thing I need is for you to get burnt out from working too hard.”

You didn’t expect much from the vacation itself, you just wanted to sleep, see a couple movies, maybe finally get around to saying yes to that drink with that cute x-ray tech.

Only as usual the lord himself laughed at your plans. The girl you asked to sub your scheduled shift came down with a bad stomach flu, and was unable to make it, forcing you to work a double. And even when you were officially over with your shift, you were reluctant to leave due to how full the waiting room looked. If it weren’t for Verna all but shoving you into the cab meant for the International, putting a twenty in your hand, and ordering you to have fun, you probably would have skipped the concert entirely.

You were still dressed for work, so you were forced to try your luck with one of the shops at the casino, and the best you could find was a white sundress. You usually try to avoid white, because something about it being the color of your uniform just made you antsy as though you were still on duty. But the alternative was going to a show in your dowdy nursing gown, so you ended up buying it anyway.

When you were able to meet up with your sisters, they were both in contrast dressed to the nines, making you feel even more underdressed. In spite of the less than ideal start to the night, you were determined to enjoy yourself. After all this concert was supposed to be the official marker to the start of your vacation, and it was also fulfilling one of your childhood dreams of seeing him live. And while your “love” for him had cooled since you were 12, that didn’t mean you were any less excited when one of your sisters had won front row seats to his show.

When he walked out onto that stage all your troubles were seemingly forgotten and you could focus on this captivating man. He was nothing short of amazing to see live, and you truly believe that your younger self simply didn’t think big enough when picturing what it would be like to see him up close and personal, especially with how good the seats you got were. He took all of your expectations of it and blew them all away.

Then he started getting a little wobbly.

Then he started getting very wobbly.

Then Elvis fucking Presley had the audacity to nearly slip into a coma right in front of you.

“Ok, but… I wasn’t officially on the emergency team, so I don’t technically count,” you say in an attempt to worm your way out of the night off, all the while stabbing at your potato salad in your frustration.

“Ok, but technically,” she teases. “You belong there more than anybody considering you did pretty much all the work of stabilizing him.”

“I was just doing what anybody would have done,” you downplay.

“Y/N, you were literally surrounded by hundreds of people that night, and nobody acted like you did. Hell not even that doctor that was there did what you did.”

You huff at that, because thinking about that fucking doctor will always get you heated. You’ve encountered your fair share of inadequate doctors before, but Elvis’ personal physician crossed over into cartoonishly incompetent. What kind of doctor who is not only prescribing morphine, let alone over-prescribing it, doesn’t carry any goddamn naloxone on him. And just as the cherry on this very fucked up sundae he tried to use an amphetamine in an effort to cancel out the opioid effects. That is the kind of logic that has brought many users to the ER or worse the morgue, and you at least expected better from a trained medical professional.

But nothing pissed you off more than the penguin looking man, who you would later learn is/was Elvis’ manager, asking if he would still be able to do the midnight performance. You remember just giving him a look, all the while maintaining your rhythm on Elvis’ chest, and you were able to make that man take a step back in fear. The way he stood there and watched as he shook like a leaf, you could tell whose fault this was.

Truly that entire night experience should serve as a testament to both your focus and your patience. Though you did have to remind yourself after every stupid question and comment that came from either of those mens mouths, that you had to focus on preventing brain damage in Elvis, and not try to induce it in those two. You were so fucking close to trying it when Penguin man had the audacity to criticize you on being too rough with your CPR technique, but lucky for him, the EMTs had finally gotten there.

On the other hand, the luckiest break you had all night was that you were familiar with one of the paramedics, so you were allowed inside the ambulance as an extra set of hands, and because no immediate family could be found. After you were able to stabilize him with the Naloxone and the paddles, you were able to catch up with Verna at the ER, and warn her of what that stupid doctor was trying to do back there.

Though by the time you had gotten there, the adrenaline had subsided and you finally noticed the throbbing pain in your hand. You had caught his head before it could hit the floor, which you knew was the equivalent to a bowling ball dropping on to your hand, so you’re not surprised that it did cause some damage to you. You put a brace on your hand and end up sleeping in Verna’s office until her shift ended and she could take you home. The injury turned out to be more severe than you initially thought, and you were put on Medical leave against your will for months.

“How ‘bout this Bones,” she says. “As repayment for losing your necklace, you’ll be my date to the concert.”

You know better than most that Verna is not one to be messed with, and the fact that she’s resorted to guilt tripping this early, means she desperately wants you to go. The necklace in question is the one she gave you after your first successful year in the department, something she gives all the nurses that choose to stay put in the hell that is Vegas’ premier Emergency Ward. Each one was unique to the recipient and yours, in reference to your nickname, was a small ivory stone shaped like horns held by a delicate gold chain. So delicate in fact you somehow lost it somewhere between here and the International with no clear picture as to when exactly it happened.

You let out a long sigh before conceding. In response she mockingly rubs her hands together like a supervillain, and says, “Haha, my dastardly plan to get you to have a fun night has worked.”

“I had fun at the last show,” you argue.

“Y/N, I worry about you if that was your definition of fun.” she says, and you throw a pea at her. “Also I hear rumors that a certain x-ray tech also got a ticket.” she whispers conspiratorially.

This does get a bashful smile out of you. If you can take one thing away from that forced medical leave was that you did end up having those drinks with Ricky. And a few more after that. And then some dinner. Currently you’re in that awkward “what are we” stage that neither of you are too eager to be the ones to define. But hopefully this concert will be the turning point for that.

“By the way, we were asked to wear all white,” Verna casually drops, as she walks away from the table.

“Goddamn it, Verna,” you curse with a mouthful of jello.

The week passes faster than you would have liked, and suddenly it’s friday night. You didn’t really have the time nor the motivation to buy yet another white dress that would sit in your closet, so you end up once again in front of the International in the same sundress, though this time with notably better company.

Though that feeling of being underdressed is somehow worse considering who could actually afford to go to his final concert this time around. His near death experience and the accusations that his previous doctor and manager were facing had caused his fans to rally around him after this, and factoring in that this is going to be his last performance stateside, the tickets to this show were perhaps some of the most expensive in the history of Vegas. There were rumors that even the nosebleeds would cost you somewhere in the $70 range, so you could only imagine what your front row seats would have cost. But the fact that these tickets apparently sold out within minutes was a testament to how beloved he still is.

It’s not exactly a secret amongst the staff that you had been the mysterious good samaritan at the concert, but by the time you had gotten back from leave, Elvis being in your ward had become old news. You weren’t exactly eager to spill, and no one was curious enough to ask. Though you did get a few questions this week from some of the more vulgar nurses asking if you had tried to slip a little tongue when giving him mouth to mouth. You laughed it off and half-jokingly replied, how if anything he did. You’re seated between Verna and Ricky, who had the honor of making sure you hadn’t accidentally cracked a rib when performing CPR on the King, farther away from the stage than you were last time, though you weren’t too cut up about it. You’re one for one for people nearly dying when you’re in the front row, and you figure if there’s a repeat performance tonight someone else can take over this time.

As you’re talking to Ricky as to what songs he’s hoping to hear, you don’t so much as hear but feel the familiar horns start to blare, building anticipation amongst the crowd, and evidently yourself as you’re teased over the little dance you’re doing in your seat. And as the music starts to build, you have to remind yourself that you’re still technically at a work event, so you can’t get too wild. Though with the atmosphere you find yourself in, you can’t guarantee your best behavior if you can get Ricky alone.

Then he finally steps out and it’s just as magnificent as you remember. He looks alot better this time around, far more sure footed in his steps and the white jumpsuit with its gold accents stood as a nice contrast to his tanned skin, and you and the rest of the crowd show your love when you see the cape in all it’s angelic winged glory. Even the light sheen of sweat already on his face is doing wonders of making him look as though he’s glowing, as opposed to sickly like his last show.

Considering how well you thought his last concert was when he was high off his ass on morphine and on death’s door, it’s no surprise how incredible this one is, when he’s far more present and alert this time around. Though more being the operative word, as he does seem to be somewhat distracted this time around, and he does seem to hover around the two tables the hospital staff are at.

You can hardly fault him for feeling a little uneasy about being back on stage again after he nearly died on one. Oddly enough you can even see the logic of having an entire medical team ready at a moment's notice for his return if nothing but for the comfort of that extra level of security.

But you’re not here to analyze why a famous man does what he does, you’re here to have a good time, so that’s what you do; You sing, you dance, you laugh at Elvis’ jokes, you flirt with Ricky, you take advantage of your tables covered tab, the whole nine yards. All too soon though it feels like the concert wraps up quicker this time, though you figure he’s simply eager to get his world tour started as soon as possible.

“I’d like to turn the house lights down,” he says.“Now that you’ve seen me I’d like to take a look atchu.” This seems familiar, you think flippantly. “Before I go, I wanna give a special thanks to a few people up front here. The emergency staff of UMC Hospital, Ladies and Gentleman.”

There is a resounding round of applause for your group as the spotlight hits the tables, and you’re just drunk enough to not retreat from the praise and recognition and simply give a cursory wave to the crowd. “But there’s one special lil’ lady here that deserves recognition. Without her folks, I can promise I wouldn’t be here tonight.”

You look around expecting to see Priscilla or maybe even his daughter somewhere around here, but you’re quickly wrenched from your thoughts as you feel the table beneath your elbows jostle a little. You look back toward the stage and find that Elvis no longer occupies it. Instead he is walking on top of your table and giving no regard to the glasses or items atop it, your co-workers acting quickly to save what they can. Before you can even put together who exactly he’s walking toward, you find the king of rock and roll crouching down before you.

“What’s your name angel?” he asks you with the biggest grin on his face, before putting the mic in front of you. The room itself is dead silent, everybody apparently eager to hear your answer, and Elvis, even more so, with the way he’s looking at you. You even move slightly to the left in some vain hope that he’s talking to someone behind you only for the mic to follow you. Whatever drunkenly warm feelings about attention you had quickly vanished, and the only thing stopping you from crawling under the table is that you’re not sure he wouldn’t follow.

You’re floundering and also painfully aware of the seconds that are ticking away, making your pause all the more uncomfortable, and you’re barely able to squeak out your name.

Oh my god, do I really sound like that? You think mortified after hearing your answer repeated through the amplifiers.

“Beautiful,” he says, his eyes shining and he looks at you as though you hang the stars themselves. “Folks, y’all don’t know it, but Y/N here is my very own Guardian Angel.” His statement generating “awws” from the crowd. “Last time I saw her, she left something with me and I think it’s high time I give it back.”

And with a flick of his wrists he produces a gold chain with a bright white pendant at the bottom of it, and you’re stunned when you recognize it, truly believing it was lost forever to you. It’s mind boggling to think it had been with him this entire time, having figured it was in a ditch or melted down by this point. You reach out for it hoping this will be the end of the interaction and you can begin to work on forgetting this ever happened, only for him to pull back.

“...but only if she goes to dinner with me first,” he says mischievously. At his proposition the audience responds with a series of wolf whistles and applause, which only amps up your anxiety of being seen, and it’s made all the worse when some women (some of whom you know) are trying to answer yes for you.

Pressure and stress is something you’re familiar with, but the scrutiny you're currently under not only with your co-workers, but an entire room full of strangers makes you want to shrivel up and die. This feeling is only further perpetuated by the dazzling grin he’s giving you. Words fail you and you doubt anything that comes out of your mouth will be even the least bit coherent, so you instead shake your head in the affirmative before you bury your face in your hands.

“She said yes folks,” he says, his grin going from ear to ear at this point, and the crowd goes wild. This is all punctuated by the return of the music as Elvis winks at you and makes his way back to the stage. The music itself stands in stark contrast to how you’re feeling, sounding bold and triumphant, as you’re escorted backstage trying to hunch in on yourself and avoid being seen. You’re even more mortified as you recognize the lyrics he’s singing, and you purposefully try to avoid looking at him.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help

Fallin’ in love with you

You’re used to the break neck speed that comes with the territory of working in the ER, but even this is going far too fast for you. Not even five minutes ago you were trying to figure out if you were too dressed up for a burger with Ricky, now you’re standing alone in a penthouse suite waiting for the most famous man in the world for a … a date?

Oh god Ricky, you remember. How are you going to explain this to him? Things were going so well, and you planned to finally sleep with him tonight, but now this happened. And oh… fuck, that’s what people are going to assume what’s happening right now isn’t it? Given Elvis’ reputation, you can deny until you're blue in the face that nothing happened and you’re still unlikely to be believed.

…Because nothing will happen, you’ll eat, you’ll make small talk, he’ll thank you for your part in his life being saved, and you’ll never have to think of this night again. It wasn’t so much that the necklace meant that much to you, but you weren’t exactly in a place to say no to him at that moment. So maybe if you leave right now…

Your fleeting thoughts of running are interrupted by the hand suddenly on your shoulder, making you nearly jump out of your skin. “Woah there angel, settle down now. It’s just me,” he says softly.

That’s hardly comforting, you think. You open your mouth determined to leave at this point only for him to hold up a finger to you before grabbing a folded piece of paper from the piano and handing it to you. You’re hesitant to open it until he says, “my daughter begged me to give this to you if I ever saw you again.” You unfurl it to find what is clearly a child's drawing of an angel with a nurse cap, though with seemingly your general coloring as well as your necklace. The bottom reads “thAnK U 4 sAVing mY dAdY, love lisA.” You can’t help but crack a smile at this, and you feel yourself lose some of that tension you walked in with.

He seems pleased with your reaction, rubbing the back of his neck as he explains how his daughter came up with the angel moniker for you and it kind of stuck for him, considering how he didn’t know your name.

“It’s fine,” you wave away. “I get trying to explain it to her in a way she’d understand.”

“She’s been sayin’ for awhile now that she wants to be a nurse when she grows up,” he admits with a bit of a chuckle. You can’t help the way your heart melts at that. “Hope you don’t mind, I ordered food already. I-I figured you’d wouldn’t want to eat so late.”

“I don’t mind,” you reassure, amused at his slight stutter. “The job’s made me a bit of a night owl, so I’m more on lunch time right now.”

“Guess we got time then,” he says, settling down with a bottle of wine at a table by the window.

“I guess we do,” you say, unable to hold back a smile..

The longer you stick around though, the easier it is to talk to him, his hair is messy and he’s out of the jumpsuit so it’s easy to forget that you are talking to the one and only Elvis Presley. So engrossed in your conversation you hardly notice when the food arrives, and the two of you hardly touch it. He looks at you with that same dopey smile as you talk about your life, your job, anything really. And he reciprocates talking about the places he’s been, the places he’s going and beyond. He even bashfully admits he came back to Vegas for the last time in order to find you and thank you properly.

“I swear Angel, I tried lookin’ for ya after I got out,” he sighs, sending a dirty look at the city right outside the window, his face highlighted by the neon lights below. “I was afraid this godforsaken city swallowed ya whole.”

“Yeah Vegas’ll do that to you,” you commiserate with him, a smile on your face gazing out the window. “It’s an absolute cesspit here.”

“You ever think about leavin’?”

“No, not really,” you say, hardly needing a second to answer, as you take a sip of your drink. You grew up here so you hold no illusions to the glitz and glamor that the city holds. Not to mention your job primarily consists of dealing with patients who are often the byproduct of this awful city. But this is still the city where you were born, where you’ve made your life. A life you’re honestly proud of.

He looks taken aback by your response, and in that moment you have the pleasure of seeing a man who has been nothing but confident and sure of himself stumble over his words. “Re-really? There ain’t no place in this whole world y-you’d rather be.”

“Nah,” you say casually, holding two fingers up. “There are two types of people who live here, ‘This place is a pit and I’m leaving’ or ‘this place is a pit and I’m never fucking leaving.’ No real reason beyond just… liking it here,” you guess shrugging your shoulders. “Besides, I just got back from medical leave, I think I've had enough of a vacation for awhile,” you say, your drink having loosened your tongue.

“What happened?” he asks, his brow furrowed, looking genuinely concerned for you.

“Oh, umm…” you say, sucking your teeth. And that’s really the elephant in the room neither of you are addressing. The fact that you’re only here because of what you did for him. “Well I kinda broke my hand… that night… when I caught you.” You follow this with perhaps the most awkward laugh, which you quickly cutoff when you see the guilty look on his face.

As you're floundering for some sort of recovery, he gently takes your previously injured hand in his, as he places a small kiss to the back of it. “I’m sorry I put you through so much trouble.” he whispers against your hand. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” you say, trying to even out your breathing, suddenly going from pleasantly to too warm in a matter of moments. “I would have done the same for anybody else.”

“But not anybody else coulda done whatchu did.” he says. “It’s almost sounds like it was all meant to be,”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” you say, sipping your drink. “But if this city has taught me anything in all the years I’ve lived here, it is that luck, good or bad, has its hands in almost everything.”

“You’re too good for this rotten city,” he says, softly rubbing his thumb along your knuckles, his ocean blue eyes piercing into your own. “Y/N, this city ain’t good for no one,” he says. “You gotta get you outta here.”

“Elvis…” you say, putting down your drink. “I’m not saying this city is good, but I’m not saying it’s all bad. It just… is. And I’m fine here. I’ve built my life here and I’m really not interested in leaving.”

“Not even for me?”

That catches you off guard and you’re at a loss for words, because who says that to someone they’ve only just met. And instead of giving an actual answer, you give a short, nervous laugh, and make a comment as to how funny he is. Though internally you’re questioning if his eyes have always been this intense.

“You know when I was in rehab,” he trails on looking at your connected hands. “That necklace a yours, got me through some of the darkest times I been through.”

You swallow thickly at his admission. “Well rehab is one of the hardest things to do. If you want to hold on-”

“No, no Angel,” he chuckles in that deep baritone of his, as he removes the pendant from his wrist. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to give it back.” He stands up from the sofa, and holds out his hand to you. “But first, I at least want to see you wearin’ it.”

You’re not really thinking anymore, or maybe your thoughts are being drowned out by your pounding heart beat, as you stand up and turn away from him, allowing him to put it on you. Whether it’s the heat radiating off of him from his close proximity to you or the way his hands feel brushing lightly against your neck, your decision is made even before he plants a kiss behind your ear.

Your relationship prospects with Ricky are shot, most of the people you work with saw you leave with him, and they are all gonna assume what they want about what the two of you did. So why not do what you’re going to be accused of? Really there are other reasons not to, but they all die as soon as your lips meet his.

It only occurs to you now that this is not the first time this has happened, but you could hardly compare either experience. The mouth that ravages your own is worlds different from the cold lips you breathed life back into, and you find your hand even wandering into his open shirt as you relish in the now strong and steady heartbeat beneath your palm. He stops at that, noticing what you’re doing, and you see his eyes go glassy for a moment before he goes right back to kissing you, though this time around it’s slower, more… tender, as he leads you back to his bed.

He probably has reasons of his own for this, though you struggle to understand them. Initially you think, rather crudely, that since he’s leaving in the morning, never to return, you suppose you’ll be his final ‘what happens in Vegas.’ But everything he does once you’re in his bed doesn’t quite match up with this assessment.

The way he touches you, it’s not sex, it’s not fucking, it’s not even love making, if you had to call it anything, more akin to worship. Leaving not a single inch of your body untouched as he undresses you, he takes his time to kiss every spot and blemish on you, even paying special attention to the hand he had inadvertently broken, as though in penance. He whispers something into your skin with each kiss, and you’re not able to make out what, but he has an almost reverent tone, as though he were praying. Though any curiosity you had for his words is quickly lost when you feel him bury his face in your cunt.

He’s still fully dressed, you notice, the silky caress of his shirt on the back of your thighs, as you feel his wicked tongue spear inside you. The idea of being so exposed is usually horrifying to you, but now, here with him, you don’t even think about that, truly lost in the pleasure he’s giving you, and you’re sure to be very vocal in your appreciation. He eventually removes his mouth, and you let out an embarrassing little whimper at the loss until you feel the cool metal of his rings brushing your burning core. You can only imagine what kind of image you make right now writhing and unraveling on this man's fingers, wearing nothing but your necklace. From the pleased rumble that emanates from his chest he approves wholeheartedly as he sits on his knees to get a better look at you. He even goes so far as to readjust your necklace so it rests prettily between your breasts, looking for that perfect image of you.

Much of the night proceeds like that, his own pleasure apparently put to the side, as he adjusts you into whatever position he cares to see; sideways, on all fours, above his face, on your knees with your hands holding the headboard, standing up with your back against the window, etc. For his part, he simply watches you fall apart over and over again on his tongue, his fingers, or whatever body part of his you wrap your legs around.

You begin to suspect that this is some fucked up form of repayment for what you did, and several times through out you quite literally paw at his belt in an attempt to get him to join in. Each time he gently takes a hold of your hands, reassuring you each time he’s focused on you alone.

What finally gets him to crack is when you beg tears streaming down your face, “please I need it,” your voice whiny and your eyes frantic to behold all of him. You bring your mouth to his as you whisper, “I need you.” He’s quick to strip down after your plea, and seeing him fully leaves your mouth as dry as the mojave. For both personal and professional reasons, you’re no stranger to the male anatomy, but seeing his is… baffling, simply put.

You feel like a teenager fantasizing in your room about your favorite celebrity again, simply due to how perfect this all feels. Too perfect in fact. You’ve lived long enough to know that things that are too good to be true, usually are, especially in this town. But these lessons are far from your mind as he goes at an agonizingly slow pace to push himself into you, reaching depths you’ve never even imagined ever reaching. You’re left a panting mess beneath him savoring the delicious stretch he’s causing you, and you’re only quieted as he takes your lips once again.

Once you’ve had time to adjust to him being buried to the hilt within you, you beg him to move as you feel that knot in the pit of your belly begin to form once again. He seems charmed by how needy you’ve become, going at a near snail pace within you, telling you to say how you were his. So desperate were you, that you agreed without even thinking about it.

He rewards you with a sweet kiss, as he starts to pick up the pace. You throw your head from side to side as aching whimpers escape your lips, eyes squeezed shut because dear lord, does he know how to move his hips. He takes a hold of your chin, “look at me Angel. Look only at me.” he orders, his lips barely brushing your ear. You're in no position to argue, and especially as he pins your wrists above your head.

He’s so beautiful, you think to yourself as you open your eyes to see him; the light shimmer of sweat on his brow, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips, truly this man is too good to be true. But as he picks up the pace to be far more brutal and punishing, you become lost to all the sensations he’s causing you. Despite the tears streaming down your face you can’t say you’re not enjoying yourself, reveling in his incoherent whispers in your ear and begging for him to fill you up over and over again.

By the time you both finished, the two of you have been at it for what feels like hours at this point, and it is only now as the early morning rays of the sun hit the side of his face do you realize how late (or early?) it is. And as he takes in the image of you below him in the light of day for the first time, your angelic image is only further cemented in his mind, he gives you a tender kiss as he has the curtains closed and he’s absolutely sure of what he has to do next.

You wake up to the sound of voices and rummaging in the other room, and the taste of regret on your tongue. Regret tastes a lot like dehydration, you think, helping yourself to both the full glass of water and the tylenol on the nightstand. The curtains and your pounding head make it impossible to tell what time it is or how long you slept. You know you’re in no condition to work, but contemplate going anyway, as you can only imagine what kind of shit you’re going to get from doing so. But with the state of your back right now, you don’t really have a choice.

You’re using the low light peeking beneath the door to gather what you can of your outfit, though as you blindly scour the room, you would settle for your dress and purse at this point. Your head is fuzzy at best so you hardly notice that the white dress you put on is completely different from the one you arrived in, nor did you pay any mind to the salty aftertaste on the back of your tongue that the pills left.

There’s no getting around that you’re about to embark on the most humiliating walk of shame in history, but you were at least grateful that he hadn’t been there when you woke up. You’re glad to have avoided that awkward encounter at the very least. But this small mercy was quickly snatched from you as you open the door only to walk right into the back of the man you were hoping to avoid.

Wait… how did I miss that? You think blearily. You don’t have the luxury of an answer as he quickly turns around and you watch as his face lights up upon seeing you.

“Sorry for waking you Angel,” he says, as he wraps an arm around your waist to give you a quick peck on the lips. “Just had to pack up a few things before we go.” While you aren’t someone prone to having one night stands, you also can’t think of anything to say to this man whom you’re never going to see again. At least he won’t see you, while you’ll probably have to live the rest of your life seeing him as a celebrity.

“It’s fine” you say as you look around the room behind him for your purse. A hopeless endeavor as there are far too many men in the room, who all quickly avert their eyes from you. Though you do see it’s well past sunset, and that just adds to your embarrassment.

“How ya feelin’ Angel?” you hear from him as he puts a hand on your forehead. The cool metal of his rings feel heavenly, but you are also a woman on a mission. The mission being get the hell out of here.

“I’m okay,” you answer, pulling away. “I-I hope you don’t mind I used the aspirin on the nightstand.”

You see his smile lift ever so slightly at that, “That’s why it was there Darlin’. Why don’t I take you home now?”

“Oh you don’t have to do that,” you wave away as he’s walking you to the door.

“You don’t gotta worry Angel,” he reassures you, his arm already slung around your shoulder. “I don’t mind one bit. Hell it’s probably on my way.”

“...ok.” You answer, unenthusiastic at the prospect of having to see him more. But being seen by others as you are right now doesn’t sound any more appealing.

As you're making your way down the hallway with him, you remember your purse that is back in the room. And as you swivel around, you feel the night hitting you all at once, and you’re forced to lean on Elvis to keep your balance. He catches you and with an arm around your waist he helps you to the elevator.

“Wait,” you say weakly. “My purse.”

“Don’t worry, Angel,” he says, kissing your hand. “It’s downstairs already.”

That’s not where I left it, you think, when you do in fact find it already in the backseat of the town car. You tell the driver where your apartment is before pressing your head to the cool glass of the window, your eyes closed. Even with the tinted windows, the neon lights of the strip are doing a number on your eyes (later you would wish that you had chanced it and gotten one last look at home). You don’t understand how you’re this tired considering how much you’ve already slept and you simply lean in further into him, waiting for that aspirin to kick in.

You’re not sure as to how much time passes, but eventually he does help you out of the car and up some stairs. You’ll kick yourself later for not realizing sooner where you were until you felt Elvis start to buckle in your seatbelt. You open your eyes, but even with your blurry vision you recognize that this is definitely not your apartment.

You struggle at your harness, but your fingers aren’t cooperating whatsoever and you’re left helplessly pawing at it. You see others enter but your pleads that you have to leave fall on deaf ears as they all conspicuously avoid looking at you.

You don’t understand why you’re like this, because other than the drinking from the night before you hadn’t had anything other than… the aspirin.

How could you be so stupid? How could you have walked into this trap? Why did you think you could trust him? You start sobbing as you hear the cabin door close, because you have no answer for any of these.

“Please I have to go home,” you weep.

“I am takin’ you home Angel.” and you have no choice but to lean on him as he brings you closer.

Finally once you’re in the air he unbuckles and stands the both of you up. Men you vaguely recognize from the hotel, all again avert their eyes as Elvis proceeds to walk you down the aisle and you beg them to help you. You’re still feeling the effects of whatever he gave you so you don’t really put up much of a fight until he opens the door and you see a bed on the other side.

“I ain’t gon’ hurt you Angel,” he says soothingly. You don’t believe him. “I know you’re mad right now, but I know one day you’ll forgive me. Because this is for your own good.”

“Why?” you sob into his shoulder as he lays you both down. “Why me?”

“Because the lord himself brought us together, Angel.” he says and you see that manic look you’d only gotten glimpses of in your short time together on full display. “And what God has brought together, let no man separate.”

“What?”

“Angel I know you may not believe in all of it,” he says, rubbing your cheek. “But I don’t believe it was just a coincidence that you were there that night. I know someone up above sent you to look out for me. And I ain’t gon’ let you slip away again.”

This man… this man had no issue ripping you away from your life all under some delusion that you needed saving, because that’s what he needed. You’re under the control of a man that cast you as his savior… and god forbid should you ever turn out to be otherwise. This is your life now, because no good deed goes unpunished.

“You and me, Angel.” he says merrily into your hair, holding your hand that rests above his heart, giving you a tender kiss on your forehead. “Today we’re flyin’ away for good.”

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