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#and the way she made us pray before dinner made me go 'oh so i have to pray all the time when im here'
bahrlee · 9 months
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I remember realizing I didn't believe in God and feeling like I was going to be in big trouble for it so vividly like I was literally in the middle of praying (which I didn't usually do but when I was at my baptist aunts house I did even when I was alone out of fear) and just feeling deep in my heart. "this is so stupid. This is pretend. This is a big game of pretend right. Church is like the adults playing house. This isn't real" like I didnt realize that people actually believed in all this stuff I thought everyone was in on it. And in that moment I realized that that wasn't the case. And then I felt scared like I was gonna die. I was like 7
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grandeoatmilklatte · 27 days
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Taking a Sick Day 🤒 (Ominis Gaunt x F!MC)
Alternate title: "come over, my parents aren't home!"
I'm back from another writing hiatus! Please enjoy this floor-fucking smut!
Warnings: NSFW || P in V || 0ral || f!ng3r!ng || loss of V || Characters are aged up and 18+ || MDNI || (1892 words)
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“Oh sweetheart! You’re burning up! You can’t go out like this!” Ominis’s mother exclaimed as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on her son’s forehead. “Everyone else will just have to go without us.”
“It’s alright mother! I wouldn’t want you to miss the party! I can stay home alone. I’ll be asleep most of the evening anyway.” Ominis pleaded, praying he didn’t sound too desperate. 
“He’s right dear, the boy is eighteen now, he’s old enough to stay home alone for an evening.” his father’s voice echoed from the other side of the room. 
After a few moments of discussion between Ominis’s parents, it was agreed Ominis could indeed stay home, while the rest of the family attended a dinner party that night at the home of a family friend. Ominis smiled to himself as he heard his parents leave the room, waiting until their footsteps receded before jumping to his feet, dashing to his desk and quickly crafting a letter, whispering words to his self writing quill before shooing his owl away so that his letter could be delivered as quickly as possible. 
Ominis’s plan was turning out to be a success so far.
An hour later, the Gaunts were saying their goodbyes to Ominis, letting him know that they would return past midnight, and that they wouldn’t wake him when they returned. Once they had left, Ominis summoned the family house elf, letting the elf know that he was giving him the night off so that he could be alone while he recovered from his “illness”. The elf was happy to oblige. When Ominis confirmed that the house was indeed empty, he made his way to the family room and waited, his heart beating out of his chest. 
Less than twenty minutes passed before Ominis heard the sound of tapping at the window of the family room. He dashed to the front door, listening for a moment before he called out.
“Darling, is that you?”
“Yes! It’s me!” Came the beautiful voice of his girlfriend before he felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He kissed her back and led her inside, shutting the door behind him. 
“I was so worried they wouldn’t fall for it! Had I known this was that easy I would have skipped out on every one of our History of Magic classes!” Ominis said as he proceeded to quickly give his girlfriend a tour of his home. She laughed at his remark, but her eyes were wide in awe, taking in her surroundings. 
“Ominis, your home is incredible!”
Ominis felt a slight pang of sadness knowing that this was the only way he could have her in his home - in secret. The couple had been together since their fifth year, with their romantic interactions being few and far between due to a lack of privacy at Hogwarts. They managed to see each other occasionally over the summer holidays, but this had to also be in public spaces, her muggleborn status making an invite to the Gaunt manor forbidden, lest she wish to be killed. Recently, Ominis had begun to slowly and secretly steal from his family’s fortune, waiting until he had stolen enough for them to run away and start a new life together. Until then, their relationship would need to remain a secret.
So, when Ominis learned that his family would be out of the manor one evening for several hours to attend a party, he couldn’t deny himself the opportunity to have the place to himself, for him and his beloved to do whatever they pleased. A simple potion created to make the drinker appear sick with a fever was all Ominis needed to make this evening work in his favor. 
After giving her a brief tour of this home, Ominis led her back to the family room, where he sat himself on a dark emerald velvet sofa, while she remained standing. With a quick wave of his wand, Ominis lit the grand fireplace that was across from the sofa.
“Darling, don’t just stand there, come sit with me.” Ominis leaned back, making his lap readily available for her. 
A nervous giggle fell from her lips. “Sorry, this is just…so different from what we normally do. I don’t think we’ve ever been this alone before.”
“Well, we should take advantage of the opportunity then.” Ominis began to worry he might be sounding a bit desperate. The growing desire for her, as well as the growing bulge in his trousers, was hard to ignore. 
His worries faded when she straddled his lap, her hands coming up to hold his face as she kissed him. As he deepened the kiss, he brought his hands to her hips, gently guiding her so that her core was slowly grinding against his bulge, which was now straining against his trousers. Ominis could feel the tension releasing from her body as she began to move her hips on her own, increasing her pace as she continued to grind against him.
“Take your clothes off.” Ominis said breathlessly as he pulled away from her lips, the desperation completely taking over him. 
Without a second of hesitation, he felt her body leave his lap, followed by the sounds of her clothing coming off. Ominis followed suit, remaining on the couch as he undressed. He couldn’t help the soft groan that left his lips when he felt her sit back on his lap, her skin coming in direct contact with his own for the first time. 
She resumed her previous action, grinding herself against him, her bare cunt rubbing against the length of his hard, leaking cock. Ominis slipped his hand between their bodies, gripping his cock and trying to guide himself inside of her, but she pulled away, sinking down to her knees, trailing kisses down his chest as she did so. 
Her pace was slow as she took his cock into her mouth. The oral pleasure she had given him before was always quick and quiet, either in an alleyway after one of their dates, or in an empty corner of the library when they were still in school. But right now she was taking her time, savoring every second of this alone time they had, and it was driving Ominis crazy, moans freely falling from his lips as his hands wrapped around her soft hair. 
“Wait, wait, stop, not yet!” Ominis groaned, knowing that if she kept this up any longer he was going to fall off the edge way too early. “Come here.”
She did as she was told, resuming her original position on his lap, her lips immediately latching on to his. As he kissed her, he slipped his hand between their bodies once again, this time turning his attention to her as he slipped two fingers inside her wet cunt. She moaned against his lips, and adjusted her hips so that she was matching his movements as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. After a few moments he pulled his fingers out of her, using the same hand to slowly stroke himself as she lined herself up with his cock. When she was positioned perfectly, Ominis’s hands went back to her hips as she slowly sank herself down his length. 
She let out a long, drawn out moan as her body adjusted to the new feeling. “Easy, darling, easy. We can just go slow.” Ominis whispered softly. She gave him an affirming hum before she began to slowly ride him, Ominis’s hands encouraging her as they remained on her hips. Her hands moved from Ominis’s shoulders to the back of the velvet sofa, gripping it as she picked up her pace, Ominis’s hands still keeping her steady.
The Gaunts would surely kill their son if they knew what he was up to right now, and with a muggleborn no less. This was the ultimate act of rebellion against his family, and the realization of this, coupled with the way she moaned in his ear, coupled with the way her walls tightened around his leaky cock, almost made Ominis fall over the edge right then and there. But he kept his composure, knowing he wasn’t anywhere near done with her yet. 
“On the rug, now.” he commanded breathlessly as he lifted her off of his lap by her hips. She obeyed immediately, lying on her back on the large white rug that adorned the floor in front of the sofa. 
For a moment, Ominis felt it a bit crude to be taking the woman he loved on the floor, but he ignored the feeling, immediately diving between her spread legs. Moans of his name filled the room as he alternated between licking and sucking her clit. When her moans became louder, he slipped his two fingers back inside of her, working her with both his mouth and fingers. He was so lost in the taste of her, it was difficult to pull away, but eventually he did, positioning himself so he was directly above her.
“I love you.” He whispered against her lips before he gently kissed them. As she kissed him back, Ominis once again weaved a hand between their bodies lining himself up with her, gently sliding back inside of her. 
The gentleness was gone the moment Ominis bottomed out, as he began to fuck her mercilessly on the rug. He knew he didn’t have much time before he reached his climax, between the sound of her moans and the feeling of her legs wrapping around him. But, Ominis, ever the determined Slytherin, refused to let himself finish until she had first.
Almost as if she could read his mind, Ominis began to feel her walls tightening around his cock. His soft praises of “you’re so close, darling” and “you feel so good” gave her the final push she needed as she nosedived off the edge with a whimper of his name. 
Ominis slowed his movements down slightly, savoring the feeling of her orgasm as he himself was finally pushed over the edge. He once again considered the significance of this moment, juxtaposed with their current location, and cursed his bloodline as he emptied himself into her. 
There was no sense of urgency as they laid on the rug reveling in the afterglow. No need to quickly clean up and get dressed, or act as if they weren’t doing anything at all. Ominis could just lay there with her, listening to the sounds of the crackling fireplace, and the soft sighs of her breathing.
Although he could have laid with her on that rug for hours, Ominis eventually sat up, still wanting to enjoy the empty home. He led her into the garden, where they took an evening stroll before she provided Omins with his second orgasm of the night, taking him into her mouth again while they sat on a garden bench.
Once they had gone back inside, the two retired to Ominis’s bedroom, fatigue beginning to catch up to them. The time was approaching midnight anyway, and Ominis didn’t want to take any chances in case his family arrived earlier than expected. As they drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, Ominis couldn’t help but wonder when his family would be attending a dinner party next. 
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mattitties · 4 months
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can u plz do a fluff fanfic about the reader being scared of thunder and there's a rlly loud thunder storm so matt has to comfort her? thanks :)
thunder - matt sturniolo
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“Really? I love when it storms. I think it’s so peaceful and I can just curl up and watch a movie or something,” Matt tells me. It’s our second date and we’re in the “biggest fears” category, and I told him about my extremely irrational, but very severe, fear of storms. 
“I get that,” I reply. “It’s really not that I’m just scared of storms, my best friend’s house was struck by lightning and caught on fire when we were in high school, so it kind of just set something off in my head. I know it sounds stupid because it didn’t happen to me, but it just started this crazy fear.”
“Oh wow, that’s terrifying. No, I totally get it, it’s not stupid.”
As I sit with my knees tucked to my chest on my bathroom floor, I think back to that conversation from three months ago. It’s the first storm I’ve experienced since I moved to LA, and I’m a mess. My windows are rattling with each clap of thunder, and all I can think about is my roommate at work right now. She enjoys storms, but my anxiety is getting the best of me thinking about everything that could go wrong. 
What if she can’t make it to her car? What if she gets in an accident on the way home? What if I’m stuck here for the rest of the night by myself?
She’s the only person I’ve got here in LA. I had Matt, but then I fucked it all up right on our two month anniversary.
I was so ridiculously busy with work and what felt like 800 pounds of shit piling up in my life that I completely forgot about our anniversary. I stood him up at the dinner that he made reservations for, and subsequently didn’t go to the hockey game that he was going to surprise me with; the hockey game which he got $300 tickets for. 
I apologized profusely and told him I would do anything to make it up to him, and he told me he was just really disappointed and needed some space before we talked again.
He called me a couple days later and I didn’t answer because I was so ashamed and embarrassed I couldn’t even face him. 
He texted me, I never replied. After three days of missed calls and texts, I guess he got the message because he stopped trying.
A week after that, I texted him apologizing for everything and explained my intentions behind my actions.
He didn’t answer. I don’t blame him.
That was three weeks ago, and it’s been radio silence on both ends. I guess we’re really done, but I really, really need him right now.
I turn on the shower to try to drown out some of the noise of the thunder, but nothing is working. I look at the weather app. It shows the same pattern until tomorrow morning.
I’m so fucked. I can barely breathe, my heart is beating out of my chest, and I just want to die. I’ve been texting my roommate to see when she’s returning but she’s busy at work and I’m trying not to annoy her any more than I know I have been, so now I’m just sitting in front of the shower, praying that everything would just stop.
Ten or so minutes pass, and I hear the front door open. Nobody ever comes to our apartment and my roommate always forgets her key, so I just leave it deadbolted when I’m home. I turn off the shower and call out her name to let her know I’m home, but she must not hear me. I pull myself together as much as possible and go out to the living room, but I don’t see the face I expect when I get there.
“Matt?” I whisper. I’m in such shock that nothing else comes out.
He’s absolutely drenched as he stands by the front door with a bottle of lemonade. I love lemonade.
“Hi,” he smiles shyly as he raises the hand holding the bottle. “I, uh, brought you something.”
I have no idea what to say. I opt for, “what are you doing here?”
“Well, I know how much you hate storms, so I thought you could use some company. Also… I just really miss you. And I would like to talk about us. We don’t have to do it tonight, obviously, but–”
“Yes. Yes, we can talk. Tomorrow? We can get breakfast? My treat,” I say, sounding pathetically desperate, but this is all I’ve wanted for the past three weeks.
“Okay,” he says as he takes off his shoes. “Do you happen to still have some of my sweatshirts and sweatpants? I’m kinda…” he says, motioning to the water dripping off of him.
“Yes! In my room, come.” He follows me to my room and I give him his clothes that I’ve worn an embarrassing amount of times since we broke up. “You didn’t have to come tonight,” I tell him. “This is really, just… I don’t deserve this after what I did.”
He waves a hand at me as if to say forget about it. “We’ll talk about that tomorrow. And I did have to come. Because I care about you, and I know you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight.”
I’m about to cry. I really don’t deserve this guy. 
“Let me go change, then we can crack open that lemonade and cuddle and watch something. Sound good?” he asks.
All I can do is nod in response as I watch him smile before he goes to the bathroom. I pour the lemonade into two glasses and set them on the bedside tables. 
When he comes back out and lays on my bed, I just stand there, wondering if he wants me to join him.
“Hello, what are you waiting for? Don’t leave me hangin!”
I smile and lay next to him, feeling more at home than ever when he pulls me into him.
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starryevermore · 4 months
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tis the damn season ✧ jamie tartt
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader
summary: he won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask him to stay. so he’ll go back to london and the so-called friends who’ll write books about him, if he ever makes it, and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles he’s faking. and the heart he knows he’s breaking is his own, to leave the warmest bed he’s ever known. 
word count: 4,850
warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, (badly written) smut, unprotected sex, pinv sex, angst, breaking up, pining, not proofread
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Jamie Tartt was not the type of man to fall in love. He didn’t think he was capable of it. Something about his heart, maybe. Something about how his dad made him feel like love was a weakness. That if he ever opened himself up to a person like that, his dad would be disappointed, and where there came disappointment… If he was a poet, he could probably say it more eloquently. But Jamie Tartt was a far cry from a poet. The best he could say was that he couldn’t love—no matter what, no matter who. 
And maybe that’s why it stung, just a little bit, when his mum mentioned you. 
He had come back up to Manchester for the holidays—something he seldom did, in an effort to avoid his dad. But he missed home, he missed his mum. And, besides, it was the holidays. There were no games to be played. No training he had to attend. It was kind of sad to be at the bars and clubs on Christmas. What else was he to do besides go home? Was there anything left for him in London? So, he came and prayed that James Tartt would be nowhere to be found. 
He was lucky in that regard, but all luck runs out eventually. 
“I saw that girl you used to go to school with when I went to the shop yesterday,” Georgie said when Jamie came down for dinner. Jamie grabbed one of the rolls Simon made, scarfing it down before grabbing a second. He watched his mum as he chewed, wondering where she was going with this. “Oh, what’s her name? The one who always had her nose in a book? You remember, the girl you always followed around like a puppy.”
Oh, Jamie remembered you. He remembered you quite well. You were his first actual girlfriend, back before he became a famous footballer. You didn’t care much for football, or the fact that Jamie’s right foot had been kissed by God and that he was well on his way of making a career out of the only thing he cared for. Well, okay, you did care about him achieving his dreams (had they been his dreams? or had all of it been something his father pushed on him? fuck—this is why he doesn’t come home for the holidays. it makes him think too much). But you cared more about him. You cared about how rocky road was his favorite ice cream flavor. You cared about how Disney movies were his favorite—and not the newer shit, the classic stuff. You cared about how he liked to be held and have his hair played with. You cared about how Jamie would try to read the books you loved just to try to understand you more. You cared, and he couldn’t, and that’s why it ended. 
He muttered your name before shoveling another forkful of food into his mouth. 
“That’s right! Sweet girl, she is, you know? Anyway, apparently she’s opened up this cute little book shop.”
“Why’re you telling me about this?” Jamie asked, mid-way through chewing his food. Simon gave him a disapproving look. Simon only looked disapproving when Jamie forgot his manners. But why should he give a fuck about manners? He was signed by Man City! He was such a good footballer that he got loaned out to Richmond to help their pathetic asses! Jamie Tartt could be a complete and utter prick, and nothing would ever go wrong. He could have anything, anyone he wanted. (Except, maybe, you.) 
“I stopped in the other day, during the big grand opening,” Georgie continued. “It was such a wonderful event. She even made cookies! You remember them? Those little peanut butter things that you would always beg for? Oh, Simon might have cracked the code on the recipe!” She nudged Simon with her elbow. “‘Course, he could always just ask for the recipe. I’m sure she would be happy to give it. But he has to do everything himself!”
Jamie stared at his mum. She would get to her point eventually. No need in him saying anything until she reached it. 
“Anyways, she was asking about you. Said she hoped you were doing well. I told her you were, that you were doing well at Richmond. But I think you should stop by her shop. It would be nice to see her, wouldn’t it?”
He shrugged. “I guess. Don’t really talk to her anymore, y’know? Haven’t for years. Be kinda weird to show up now.”
“Just think about it, okay? I think she’d be happy to see you.”
He shrugged, again. If Jamie was honest with himself, he would agree it would be nice to see you. But…Well, the last time he saw you, he hadn’t exactly left on good terms. 
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Six Years Ago…
Jamie couldn’t meet your gaze. If he looked you in the eyes, he would falter. If he faltered, he would never make it out of here. And, fuck, he really needed to make it out of here. But when you spoke to him, your voice quivering ever so slightly, he nearly broke his resolve. 
“What are you saying, JamJam?”
Okay. Okay, that he could focus on. Direct his frustrations to that. If he made a big deal out of that, he could stamp down all of the other awful feelings he had towards that. 
“Don’t call me that. I hate it when you call me that,” Jamie lied. 
A frown settled on your face. You took a step towards him, reaching out. He took a step back. “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. Why are you doing this?”
Jamie looked away again. Fuck, he really couldn’t do this. How do other people break up so easily? His dad had no problem leaving his mum. Why was he having so much trouble leaving you? He tried to think back to something his dad had said—anything his dad had said—when he was having horrible, blow out fights with his mum that Jamie couldn’t ignore no matter how many times he tried stuffing his ears. But his mind was drawing a blank. 
He couldn’t think straight when he was with you. 
“Well? Are you going to say something or are you going to keep acting like a dick?”
He sucked in a breath and settled on, “I can’t be with someone like you anymore. Would look bad for my career.”
“Your career…?” you repeated. You shook your head, like you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Is this really because you’ve signed to Man City?”
Jamie shrugged. He didn’t know what he could say to you. Anything that came out of his mouth would only make things worse. Not that this was really going well. But he couldn’t…He didn’t want to break your heart, not really. He’d wanted this to be a clean break. Something that you’d understand, and you’d let him go. But everything he said just made it harder and harder to go. 
“Because if it is, you really are the biggest fucking prick I’ve ever met,” you continued. “Like, seriously? You finally start making it big and you want to throw everything from your old, poor life behind? What’s next? You’re gonna tell Georgie you won’t take her calls anymore? Pretend that you never knew any of us?”
“Don’t talk about my mum.” Ugh, fuck. This was going worse than he ever could have imagined. He looked back at you, trying to give you the most disinterested look he could manage. “Just get outta here. I don’t have time for this anymore.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You are a fucking prick. What, you’ll defend your mum but rag on me? That’s spineless, Jamie. If you want to break up with me because you’re going to be too famous for me, just fucking say so.”
Shit. This wasn’t how he wanted this to go. He didn’t want to make you angry. He just…He wanted you to understand. (But understand what? That he was a spineless coward, letting his dad’s words about not needing to be tied down when he entered the big leagues get to his head?) “Always been a prick. You’re just finally catching up with everyone else.”
You rolled your eyes again. With a shake of your head, you said, “You know what? I hope this is all worth it. Making me hate you before you leave. Because now all I can think when I see you is that I can’t believe I wasted my time with a guy who can’t even be honest with me.”
Jamie bit his tongue, holding back everything he wanted to say to you. To tell you the truth, to apologize and get on his knees and grovel until you forgave him. But instead, he only looked away. “Whatever.”
For a long moment, you stared at him, not saying a word. Probably waiting for him to make the first move, to see if he was going to actually let you in. But when he didn’t, you only shook your head, turned, and left. 
Jamie stood there, listening to you go down the stairs, shout a goodbye at Georgie, then the door shut. A minute later, his mum came up the stairs, poking her head in. She tutted when she saw all of his things strewn about the room, not even close to being finished packing. 
“I thought she was going to help you pack? You two get distracted again?” Georgie asked. 
“Something like that,” Jamie grumbled. He grabbed his duffel bag, starting to shove his shirts in it. “Don’t gotta worry about that no more. She won’t distract me anymore.”
Georgie frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
Jamie looked out the window, catching a glimpse of you as you walked down the street to your own home. “Just don’t gotta worry anymore. We won’t be seeing her around anymore.”
And, oh, how he hated himself for that. But he would never admit it. He’d rather lie to himself, convince himself that this was a good thing, than admit that he just made what was, perhaps, the biggest mistake of his life. 
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“I’m going out a run,” Jamie said when dinner was finished and Simon began to collect the plates to be washed. 
Georgie rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Can take my boy away from the game, but can’t take the game out of my boy,” she teased, reaching over and pinching one of his cheeks. Jamie let out a chuckle at the gesture. More seriously, she said, “Be careful. And make sure you have your phone on ya, yeah? Just ‘cause you’re a big footballer now, doesn’t mean that you can’t get into trouble.”
Jamie nodded, not really listening. He just needed to get out of there, if only for an hour or two. He loved his mum, yeah, but something about how the conversation turned to you really unnerved him. He’d done just fine not thinking about you for the last however many years. But now that you were forced back into his brain, he couldn’t figure out how to shake you out. So, he slipped on his trainers, pulled on a jacket, and shouted his goodbye to his mum and Simon before disappearing into the night. 
He wasn’t quite sure where he was heading. It was like his feet had a mind of his own, taking him wherever they pleased. And who was he to judge? After all, his feet made his fucking career. Without his feet, he would have nothing. So, if they wanted to take him on a tour of Manchester, fine by him. It’s just…Well, he’d prefer it if the tour didn’t end right outside of your bookshop. 
Jamie stared at the “open” sign for a long time. It was odd for a shop to be open so late, but you always were a night owl. You thrived when the sun went down. (His heart hurt when he realized just how easy it was to recall such simple details like that. How, even after all these years, he still knew you like the back of his hand.) 
There was a strong urge to keep running. To jog right past your shop and pretend that he never saw it. That he was never tempted to see you again, no matter how much his heart earned to just hear you one last time. It would be easier that way. Jamie had no idea what you felt towards him. If the anger still simmered from that fight. If your heart still earned for him, too. If you didn’t feel anything towards him at all—not love, not hatred, not anything. But there was a stronger urge to push open that shop, if only to get a glimpse of your face. He didn’t have to say anything. He could pretend he was at the wrong place, turn and run before you could even realize who was there. (He couldn’t do that, though. If he was going to commit, he had to commit. There was no backing out. If he was going to see you, he was going to see you.) 
Holding his breath, Jamie pushed open the door, a little bell jingling as it swung. 
There was no turning back now. 
“We’re about to close!” you shouted from somewhere in the back of the shop. “So unless you know exactly what you’re looking for and where to find it, go ahead and head on out!”
Jamie followed the sound of your voice, finding you in the back corner of the shop. It was a cute little knitting corner, with loads of yarn and needles and books of patterns. There was a long table, with a bunch of seats around it. Did people come here to knit? That was kind of cute. Jamie wondered, briefly, if you knew how to knit, and if maybe you could teach him. He’d like to have something to do with his hands when he had moments to relax. 
And you…God, you looked even more beautiful than the last time he saw you. How was that even possible? 
You weren’t even trying to look beautiful. Your hair was tied up, out of your face. Some strands had fallen loose. On anyone else, it might have made them look disheveled. But on you? It made you look like a goddess. You wore a large white sweater (had you made it in this little knitting corner?) and a long patterned skirt. From the bottom of your skirt, he could see a pair of socks peeking out. They looked like those sort of socks that had famous paintings printed on them. Jamie didn’t really know the names of any famous paintings, so he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. To top it all off, you wore the same chunky white trainers you’d worn the last time he ever saw you. Adorable, and practical—a perfect description of everything he knew you to be. 
“Thought you were gonna be a doctor somethin’,” Jamie said, tearing his eyes away from you and at the rows and rows of shelves. The shelves had little chalkboard signs above them with the genre written on them. They had a little bit of artwork corresponding to the genre, too. A bloody knife and the scream mask for horror, some hearts and flowers for romance, what looked to be an impressive portrait of Gandalf for fantasy. Did you draw them? He didn’t remember you being very artistic, and he thought he knew everything there was to know about you. Maybe he didn’t know much of you at all anymore. 
When you turned, there was shock clearly written all over your face. Your brows were raised, your mouth dropped open. You looked at him almost like you’d seen a ghost. Like, of all the people that could’ve shown up in your shop, he was the very last person you’d ever think to see. Maybe that was his fault. 
But then you smiled at him. He liked your smile. It wasn’t like the strange, uncanny smiles of the models he surrounded himself with—all perfectly straight, so white it could blind him. No, your teeth were natural, and perfect. “It didn’t make me happy like I thought it would.”
“Ah.” He didn’t really understand that. Was the point of a career to be happy? Wasn’t it just to make loads of money? To get your parents off your back? 
“And are you? Happy, I mean? Playing football.”
Jamie paused. That was an odd question. “I’m a top scorer at Richmond. At the last game, I—”
You held up your hand, signaling for him to stop talking. His mouth shut, and you said, “Jamie, I didn’t ask for your stats. If I wanted to know those, I could look them up myself. I asked if you were happy.”
Jamie paused again. He wasn’t quite sure the answer to that question. The only other person who ever really cared about that was his mum, and she’d been too excited to see him to ask that question yet. Was he happy? What did being happy really mean? “I don’t know.”
You frowned. Oh, he hated that. You frowning, he means, but also that look you were giving him. How your brows were pinched together, how you stared at him like you could see straight into his soul. You probably could. You’d always been smart like that. If there was anyone who could figure out a way to see into the thoughts, feelings, character of people…Well, it would have to be you. Or maybe his mum. But definitely you. 
“Oh, Jamie.”
And there it was. Perhaps the reason he found himself standing in your little shop just as it was closing. Perhaps the reason he couldn’t get you out of his head. Perhaps the reason that, even after all these years, all he could think about was how badly he fucked this. 
You stepped toward him, wrapping your arms around him. You pulled his face down into the crook of your neck. If you were anyone else, he might have wrenched away, told you to fuck off. But it was you, and he liked the way you smelled of roses, vanilla, and freshly brewed coffee. So he let himself wrap his arms around your waist, to take the moment to inhale your scent as he stood in your embrace. 
Being that close to you…He couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to your neck, pressing another when he heard you gasp. You were always so sensitive, so easy to rile up. A bit of pride swelled in his chest, knowing that he had all the right buttons to press memorized. He kissed up your neck, down your jaw, pausing just as his lips were about to meet yours.
“Stop me,” he whispered. He didn’t want you to, not really. But he wanted you to know you had a way out. That you were in control. 
Instead, you kissed him. A small moan escaped your lips. Fuck, he always loved the little noises you would make for him. He used to make a game of it, to see how quickly he could make you cry and whimper and whine for him. 
His hands fell to your waist, gripping it tight as he lifted you up onto the table. Your legs wrapped around his hips and tugged him closer. He grew hard, just from being this close to you. Fuck, he had really missed you. Missed this. What had he been thinking all those years ago to let you go? 
“Fuck me, Jamie, please,” you whined, reaching down, fiddling with his zipper. 
“Don’t got a condom—” he started to say when he remembered that he’d left his wallet at home. (How could he not have a condom?) As much as he wanted this, he didn’t want to take any risks. At least, not without you being okay with it.
“Don’t care. ‘m on the pill.”
“You sure?”
“Quit talking and fuck me, please,” you grumbled, nipping at his lips.
Jamie let out a chuckle, helping you free his cock from his pants. He pushed your skirt up, pulled your panties to the side to see if you were ready for him. A smirk settled on his face as he felt how wet you were. “Desperate for me, huh?” he teased, pressing kisses down your jaw. 
“Can you blame me?”
“Not one bit.”
He pushed his cock past your slick folds, groaning at the feeling. God, he’d forgotten how tight your pussy was. How you clenched around him with every thrust, how you sucked him back in, determined to take every last inch. 
“You're fucking perfect, love,” he said, panting with each thrust. “Dunno why I left you. Shoulda stayed. Shoulda been content with you.”
Your brows pinched together—whether from the pleasure or from his confession, he wasn’t too sure. Your mouth opened, ready to say something, but his cock hit that spongy spot deep in your cunt and a moan escaped instead. Your arms wrapped around him, your nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. “Y-You don’t mean that,” you gasped, your eyes squeezed shut. 
“I do. I do—” Jamie pulled you closer, his thrusts growing shallower. He reached between your legs, thumb settling on your clit, rubbing his fast circles, helping you reach your high with him. “You mean everything to me. Always fucking have.”
“JamJam—” you said, your voice growing louder as he hit that sensitive spot again, and again, and again. His heart stuttered at the nickname. He thought he would never hear it again, never hear you call him that again. Whatever you were going to say next was lost in a moan so loud you nearly screamed, cumming around him, squeezing the life out of his cock.
Jamie came not long after, his head falling to the crook of your neck, a groan escaping his lips. He pressed a kiss to your neck, staying like that for just a moment, trying to commit it to memory. “I mean it. Shoulda stayed.”
You pressed against his shoulder. He pulled away with a frown. You offered a small smile. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better. This was enough.”
He took a moment to tuck his softening cock away to try and collect his thoughts. How could you not understand that he was being genuine? Did you really think he was the sort of guy who’d say things he didn’t mean just to have sex with you? (Though, to be fair, he was that sort of guy. But not with you, never with you. You were the only person who could ever get the genuine side of him.) 
“I want to stay with you forever. To throw it all away.”
You stayed silent, sensing that this mind was working too fast for him to figure out how to say all the things he wanted to say. So, you let him stand there and process. You were always so good about that. Would always give him the room to figure things out instead of making him feel like an idiot for not knowing to talk about the hard things. 
Jamie’s hands came to rest on your hips as you stayed there in the silence. He rubbed small circles on the bit of exposed skin that appeared when your sweater became untucked from your skirt in all the madness. He liked this. He liked soft moments with you. When he was younger, he used to swear he would bottle them all up and keep them forever. He liked it then, and he liked it now. But, as he stood there with you, it all began to weight down on him. This scared him. This kind of commitment he was willing to give you…It could never work out. 
“But I can’t stay,” he whispered.
You reached up, caressing his face, running your fingers through his hair. He let himself shut his eyes, to enjoy the moment. He knew it wouldn’t last. “I know.”
“I shouldn’t have come here,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. You stilled, your fingers no longer scratching at his scalp. “It’s too hard to leave now.”
“Oh, Jamie—”
“But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t get you outta my fucking head. Didn’t even mean to show up here, but it’s like my feet were working all on their own. Like they had their own brain or somethin’, I don’t know.”
You scratched at his scalp again, dragging your nails and soothing him. “It’s alright, Jamie. I never thought you were going to stick around. You were always meant for more.”
Jamie sniffled. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck so you couldn’t see his face. He pretended like he didn’t know you could feel the tears trickling out of his eyes. “You’re enough, though. You’re more than enough for me.”
“But you can’t stay,” you finished his thought.
“I’m nothing without football. There isn’t anything else I can do. I’m not brilliant like you,” he mumbled. “I can’t just leave what I’d been working for my entire life and open a book shop because it makes me happy.”
“Football doesn’t make you happy anymore?”
“It does, but you make me happier.” He looked up, letting you see the tears rolling down his cheeks.
You caressed his face, your thumb rubbing the swell of his cheek. A tear smeared across his face as you did so. “JamJam, you’ve always been meant for more. But if that’s not what you want anymore…It’s okay to leave those things behind. It’ll hurt, it’ll suck, but if it means you’ll be happier…It’ll always be worth it.”
Jamie shook his head. No. You didn’t understand. How could you? You didn’t have to deal with his dad. You didn’t have the same expectations, the same level of scrutiny. If the media found out he left football for this life, a simple life, then they’d never let him have a day of peace. They would still follow him around, talk shit about everything he did. And, God, if they found out about you…You didn’t deserve that kind of hatred they’d spew. He couldn’t ruin your peace for his own selfish reasons. 
“You don’t get it.”
“Then explain it to me, JamJam. Help me understand.”
He pushed himself away, turned his back to you. He couldn’t do this. “I have to leave.”
You followed after him. But when you reached out for him, he jerked away. “JamJam…Jamie, I love you. I have always loved you, but if you runaway right now…I don’t know that I can let you in again.”
Jamie swallowed thickly. He hated this. He hated it so much, but it was what he needed to do. He had to do this, no matter how much his heart and his brain screamed at him otherwise. “That’s probably for the best.”
When you didn’t say anymore, he started to walk away. With every step he took, it felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind. He fought every instinct to look back at you, to come running into your arms, to tell you he was an idiot and he could never leave you again. 
“Jamie?” you called out. He paused in his step, but didn’t turn. “Is this because you think being with someone like me will hurt your career?”
The tears started to well up in his eyes again. He was grateful you couldn’t see his face, that you couldn’t tell how much this was hurting him. He didn’t want to taint this moment anymore than he already was. “That was never true. You…you were always more amazing than I ever deserved. You should be with someone better than me.”
You were silent for a beat, then two. For a second, he wondered if you even heard him. Should he repeat himself? Or would that just make things worse? Finally, you said, “Goodbye, Jamie.”
“Goodbye, love.”
He left the shop without turning back. But, as he crossed the street, he turned. Watched as the lights in the shop slowly turned off. As you came out, locking the door behind you. He almost ducked behind a lamppost, not wanting you to realize he was still hanging around. But he didn’t, letting you see him as you turned around. You offered him a sad smile and a wave before turning and walking away. Away from him, from his life, forever. 
Jamie opened his mouth, ready to call out to you. But he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. You deserved better than a man who always so hot and cold with you. So, he turned, too, and began to jog back home. Maybe if he was lucky, Simon would still have some of those peanut butter cookies leftover. That could be good for him. 
Yeah, that could be good. 
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frank1nsaint · 3 months
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Franklin Part 2.
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Warnings: Use of curse words and N-word
After that day you spend a good amount of time trying to avoid Franklin and that was by simply not hanging out with Harmony. There was no way you could get tied up in Franklin not after you see how Melody turned out. It was like the man was a blackhole and everything seemed okay at one time and point until it didn’t and there was no going back. You keep your head down and only focus on the things that mattered, working, passing classes and getting the fuck outta south central. 
You hear a knock on your door, you put down the book and open the door not thinking twice. You instantly regret it seeing Franklin standing in front of you. 
“Hey!”  you greet 
“Hey Y/N” 
“Whats up? you need something Harmony’s not here” you hoped and prayed that's why he was here so he could quickly leave
“Nah I came to see you,” he looks around, making sure no one was watching 
“Oh why?” You ask 
“Can I come in?” He asks
“OH! Yea Yea!” you move back quickly “shit sorry” 
He smiles “it's cool” you watch him walk in he was tall, your 5’4 frame was nothing compared to his. And now that you had no heels on, the height difference was really apparent.  He also looked bigger?  Did he get swole in jail? 
“Sooo what's up?”  you comment wanting this to be over with as soon as possible. You hoped he wasn’t going to ask you to go on a drug run. Because no wasn’t an option for this man. 
“I came to see you, see how you doing” he commented sitting by the bar stool in the kitchen 
“Tasha know you here?” you ask wearily walking to the other side of the counter 
He scoffed “why would I tell Tee I'm coming here?”
“Because after that party we got into it, and i'm not trying to “steal her man” from up under her so does she? I should call her” you go to grab the phone
“Girl hang up that phone” he commands
“Franklin, why are you here?” you ask again 
“I just came to talk to you damn! is that a crime?” 
“It is if you have a girlfriend!” 
“I don’t, me and Tee aint a thing, never were never will be! Damn!” 
You look at him in disbelief “Doesn’t seem that way the way you two be all over each other”
“Nah she's all over me, don’t get it twisted” 
You roll your eyes “Whatever, what is it that I can get you Franklin?” 
He smiles “how you been? What’s been going on with you?” 
“Fine, how are you?” you answer curtly where was this conversation going, you hoped acting like a bitch would rub him the wrong way make him lose interest fast 
“I’m doing good now” You roll your eyes, he chuckles “Damn why you so cold?” 
“I’m not!” you roll your neck 
“You are to me you  be treating a nigga like I’m some beggar or shit!” 
“I don’t!” you counter offended you didn’t you just wanted him to find other interests 
“You do!” he argues 
“Franklin” you open the fridge and pull out the lemonade you made recently 
“Alright shit,” he throws his hands up “have dinner with me next weekend” 
You look at him before responding “no” 
“Why not?” 
“Because you and Ta..” 
He points his fingers at you “Don't you mention that girl!” he warns
You shrug “Okay well the answer still remains no”
“But why?” 
“Why do you wanna go out with me? We don't even hang out!” 
He smiles “You got a pretty smile, you smart as hell, there’s something about you and i wanna find out more” You give him a deadpan face, “come on what a guy gotta do to get you to go out with them?”  You shrug in response because you honestly didn’t know either “Come on please” 
“Here” you say handing him the lemonade
You look at him for a few moments still not saying anything weighing out your options, you could go out with him, and sabotage the date and then bam 
“Y/N” he calls you bringing you out of your thoughts
“Yeaaa” you respond happily that you have a solution to your problem 
“I would love to have dinner with you. May I please take you out to dinner?” 
You continue to look at him a smile starting to form on your face. “Hmm?”  He asks smiling 
You look up at the ceiling then him take in a deep breath “Sure” 
“That was it? I just had to ask you properly and shit” he asks in disbelief 
“No that wasn’t it” you weren’t going to tell him about testing  him seeing how he reacted to you saying no, a man like him you need to see if he had a hot temper,
He points behind him with his thumb “I just asked you out like a minute ago and you said no” 
“No” you leaned in  moving closer to his face “you commanded me to go out with you and i don’t do commands” 
“Yes ma'am” he whispered looking at your lips then back at you, biting his lip
You straighten up “I wanna be home before midnight!” you add
“Yes ma'am!” he grins
“Where are we going?” 
He stands up from his stool towering over you “Damn woman let me plan, i got this i'm a man after all!” 
“Okay, man”  
“I’ll be here by 7 we’ll have reservations for 8 you just worry about getting pretty for me” 
You roll your eyes “okay.” 
And bring that smile he says before opening the door to leave
You pull your lips in and nod trying to hide your smile. You hear him chuckle before leaving 
You can’t help but replay Harmony’s comment, you had to live your life, one way you were gonna do that was by sabotaging the entire thing and the worst could happen was that he thought you were boring which actually could be to your advantage that way the men stop bugging you and so would Harmony.
You don’t say anything to Harmony but she finds out anyway, which made you suspect that Franklin went running his mouth. 
“Why the fuck aint you tell me you and Franklin got a date?” she asks as she walks into the house
“Because I wanted to keep it private” 
She rolls her eyes, “we’re best friends why aint you tell me?” 
“Incase nothing came of this date you know like we decide to not date” you shrug
“Girl please” she rolls her eyes “and why wont it?” she takes a seat on the couch 
You shrug “I dont know i’m just saying plus i’m not trying to hear it from Tasha again” 
“You know damn well him and Tee didn’t have a thing”
“I know they fucked I know that and he was probably telling her the same shit he telling me now” 
“He’s not.” she says 
“How do you know?” 
“I just do, if he approached you like he did Tasha you would have slapped that nigga”
“Wowwww okayyyy anyway I’m not tryna deal with his mama either” 
She moves and sits next to you  and wraps her arm around you pulling you in “How about we focus on right now and not the future, why not enjoy the moment for what it is and not ruin it by thinking about a future that might not happen. Hmm? How that sound?” 
You sigh heavily “fine” 
“So what you got to wear? This is so exciting!” 
You shrug “i’ll find something” 
She gives you a pointed look “Please dress up” 
“I will” 
“Good cuz i know how you like your jeans and shit” 
You sigh “I will dress uuuup” 
“Good!” she smiles
You smile back, you had actually planned to dress up but she gave you a good idea. Instead of waiting till dinner to sabotage why not start as soon as he arrives. 
As planned Franklin showed up to your doorstep at 7pm  you were expecting him to be late,  you smirk to yourself, ready to carry out your plan.  
“Hey!” you greet him as you open the door, in your usual jean, tee, sneaker combo 
“Hey gorgeous!”  he looks at your attire  expecting you to be semi dressed “I got these for you" he says handing you the bouquet of flowers
“Okay Casanova” he laughs “thanks for these you didn’t have to” 
“I wanted to” you smile in response and proceed to place the flowers in a vase “You came from the store or something?”
“No why?” He looks you up and down, this time making it obvious that he was analyzing you 
“Here” you say handing him a glass of cold cola 
He looks down at his watch “we still got sometime”
“For what?” 
“Before we gotta leave for our date!” 
“Oh! Yeaaaa” you look down and do your best to hide your smile, “i cant wear this?”
“No! I got on slacks and a button down” He motions to himself
You try not to laugh “oh i have nothing to wear Franklin, you told me to dress nice, this is nice no?” 
He huffs “shit we can go to the mall” and he stops as he sees you trying to hide your smile “stop fucking playing with me and go change” 
“I have nothing Franklin” you say a grin on your face 
“Y/N I’m not fucking with you go change!” 
You roll your eyes “you’re no fun” 
“You got 30 minutes you better hurry up or i'm carrying you in the car no matter how you look” he warns 
“Sir yes sir!”
You quickly change into the dress you had picked out, do your hair, dab makeup on your face, put your heels on and spray your perfume. You smile to yourself before walking out your room 
“Okay I'm ready!" you say "with only 3 minutes to spare!” 
He looks up at you and smiles “you look good”
“Thank you sergeant” you salute 
You hear him groan and try to suppress your giggle. The rest of the night follows suit, you do your best to just irritate him to where he refuses to deal with you again. 
“I got a question for you?” 
“I’m ready” you comment as you two eat your sunday at Baskin Robbins (which y’all i looked into this 4 scoop ice cream 4 topping was only $2! Can’t even get a scoop now for $2. 😭)
“Why you trying to sabotage our date?” 
He shocked you that’s for sure you weren’t expecting him to catch on “What are you talking about?" you feign ignorance 
“You don't think I don’t know you tryna get under my skin?” 
“Is it working?” you dig your spoon into the ice cream
He scoffs "No, in fact it's making me wanna see this thing through just to annoy you!" he looks at you intensely. You chuckle nervously in response “Come on, tell me why you trying to sabotage this?” 
“I..” you blush “I don’t know Franklin, what if we are just too different” you look down at the sunday 
“How you figure? I like to read too shit, i like to stay to myself too!” he moves his head to get your eye contact  “hmm?” 
You look up and then towards him you open your mouth to say something but can't think of a good reason 
“Hmm?” He tilts his head
You shrug “I don’t really know your world, how could i be a good match? I mean like what if....”
He interrupts you “My world? What I do to make money has nothing to do with who I am in a romantic relationship” he states
You take in a spoon full of icecream to gather your thoughts “How do you figure?” 
“Because one is business one is personal” 
“And you dont think theres a potential conflict of interest?”
“How would there be?” 
“You’re not two people”
“Nah but i  do a damn good job compartmentalising  when i'm with you its just that you and me, shit you aint seen me check my pager once and when i leave you and go handle business then thats what im doing”  
You nod and  remain silent thinking his explanation through 
“What else you got?” he jokes grinning at you 
“I... mm-mm” you shake your head
He leans in “Why don't you just admit that you scared!” 
“I’m not!” you lean back 
“Girl!” He pulls his lips to the side giving you the side eye “You be avoiding me, looking away, hiding when we in a party, you be waving and disappearing like you don’t want me to talk to you” 
You pull in your lips, blushing, looking  away 
“What you scared for? You scared of me?”
“No," you look at him I’m not scared of you, if i was i wouldn’t be here”
“So what is it?” 
“I just don’t wanna get caught up in the wrong person or thing so i just find it easier to focus on school, working, and staying outta some shit” 
“So, you saying I’m the wrong person?” 
“No, i’m saying that..” you feel the panic rise
He chuckles “I’m fuckin’ wit’chu girl i get it”
You release a sigh of relief. 
“Thanks Franklin” you smile as you look up at him after opening the door. “I hope you had a good time”
He smiles “I did I wanna do it again, without you trying to sabotage” 
“We can discuss that” 
He smacks his lips “you gonna make me beg again?” 
“No i meant we can talk about when the next date would be”  you giggle
“Ahh cool cool.” you two remain silent as you look at each other he reaches over and rubs his hands up and down your arms “You got goosebumps” 
“Yea is a little chilly tonight and you should get going its late”
He smirks “let me find out you care”
You roll your eyes, you place your hands on his cheeks softly before pulling him down. You kiss each cheek, before his lips “goodnight Franklin” you whisper 
He returns a kiss to your  forehead “goodnight gorgeous” 
You watch him get in the car before closing the door. You can’t help but smile to yourself. Even though your plan to sabotage didn’t work out, you are glad you went out tonight. You feel giddy inside thinking about the night's events, how he held your hand, how he would bite his lip while you talked, how he stared at you. It felt like you were under a microscope from time to time, it all felt genuine.
Authors Note: Feedback is much appreciated. Please reblog, comment, and like just don't plagiarize
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pottypet · 1 year
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Can you tell us about the biggest mess you've made in a diaper
Thanksgiving Mess
After my accident in Wal-Mart my boyfriend started requiring that I wear diapers whenever we went out in public together. So if I wanted to attend Thanksgiving dinner with his family I would have to wear one so I don't embarrass him in front of everyone by accidentally pooping in my panties. I was hesitant to wear such an embarrassing thing to dinner but I didn't want him to be upset with me so I agreed.
I wore my diaper under my skinny jeans and hoped it wouldn't be too noticeable. My boyfriend assured me that no one would be able to tell I was even wearing one. I felt confident in my outfit and we went on our way to his parent's home.
We sat at the table with his entire family and chatted away before his mom brought the food out. I stuffed myself with ham, turkey, green beans, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and so much more. After about 40min of eating I was entirely full. Once everyone was finished with their dinners we stayed at the table and continued conversing and joking around with each other.
After a while of talking with his family I started to feel my tummy shift. It felt like my dinner was about to go right through me. My face went pale as I felt my cheeks clench, trying my best to keep my cool and to stop myself from losing control.
His family continued their conversations and didn't seem to notice me in discomfort which I was grateful for. I couldn't hold it in anymore. A thick gush escaped my body and squirted out into the seat of my diaper. I knew I wasn't finished though so I prayed that no one could tell what was happening and continued soiling myself at the table. Gush after gush of thick, soft, poo began filling my diaper, squishing up my crack and spreading over my cheeks. My entire Thanksgiving dinner was coming out into my diaper. I could feel my diaper getting bigger and heavier and started to worry that I might have a blow-out.
I was nearly finished messing myself when his older brother noticed. A wet squirting noise came from my diaper when he got everyone's attention. "What was that sound??" he asked. "...and what is that smell?" his sister chimed in.
"May I be excused?" I asked as I stood up from the table, hoping to escape the situation. I was unaware of how I looked before his family began freaking out. Apparently my diaper had poofed out so much that it was extremely visible in my jeans. And the weight of the mess in my diaper had caused my jeans to sag, exposing my diaper's waistband to everyone. His whole family could clearly see that I was wearing a diaper... and that it was full.
"Oh my god... she's wearing a diaper!" his grandma shrieked. "She shit herself!" his cousin shouted. "If you want to pack your pampers full then go take a seat at the kid's table!" his uncle laughed. "Awee does the baby need a diapey change??" his brother teased.
My face turned bright red as I quickly left the room. My boyfriend followed me out into the living room. I thought he was going to comfort me but when I looked he was holding a diaper bag. "Let's take care of that messy diaper" he sighed. "In here?!" I yelped.
I accepted defeat and layed out on the floor like a toddler, feeling my hot, squishy, mess all over my bottom. My boyfriend took my jeans off and then, to my surprise, his family entered the room. "We want to see how you change such a big messy diaper!" his brother laughed. My boyfriend laughed along and then unfastened the tabs on my diaper. I wanted to disappear, I was mortified.
He opened my diaper up and exposed my mess to everyone. Brown sludge was caked up my crack and all over my cheeks. The entire diaper was filled with it. "Oh my god, she's destroyed that thing!" his mom shouted. "Poor girl had quite the accident!" his grandpa said while shaking his head. "My kiddo never poops that bad!" his sister laughed.
My boyfriend began wiping me clean, letting them all see my bum up in the air.
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withlove-angel · 7 months
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⚠️warnings: fluffy
I hate onion
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Law looks up at Penguin as he speaks. He is conflicted now. He realizes that he still needs to decide his own feelings toward y/n. He is not sure if he likes her back or not. He is still processing what passing into his heart. He is also worried that he might ruin what they have now if he takes action. He is also worried that his feelings are purely based on physical attraction and not something much deeper. Law is worried that if he talks to y/n, it can only go badly for him. He is not sure what to do now.
Penguin finaly say "just pass a little more time with her... I can make an scenario on the dinner to out you two together... to you find your feelings for her, captain"
Law quickly nods his head in response at Penguin's offer. He is ready to try and spend more time with y/n, just to see if anything changes over time. Penguin is happy to see that Law took his advice onboard.
Y/n is seen in the Kitchen by herself...Law could just walk in now and start that "dinner scenario" right now.
Penguin enters the kitchen ahead of Law "y/n, the captain will help you with dinner instead of me... I have some things to finish do for next mission" he lie...
Y/n looks a little surprised, but noods, she never saw him cook but deep down she pray he was batter than her...
Law walks into the Kitchen after Penguin leaves and he greets y/n.
"Hello, y/n. Penguin has told me that you require my assistance in the kitchen. Am I right?" Even though he is in a good mood, he is still acting very formal and polite with her. Penguin's "dinner scenario" seems to be working already and Law is quite anxious to see where this goes now.
Y/n lift her head slightl, shiftingher attentio from the ingredients to her captain "it was me and penguin task make today's dinner, but I'm glad you could come help me as penguin couldn't come" she smiles slightly.
Law and Penguin little lie got good. He is glad that Penguin helped him out and made a little lie in order to get him the dinner duty. He nods in appreciation and speaks to her as he walks towards a nearby counter.
"It is my pleasure to assist you with dinner. What do you have planned for tonight?" Law sounds interested in what y/n is saying and he is eager to help assist her with dinner. He wonders what new dish they will have tonight."We gonna have fish with baked potatoes and some veggies" she say explaining "hope you know how to take off the fish bones as it was Penguin task" she say embarrassed because she don't know how to do it...
Law smiles as he hears what she has planned for dinner. He enjoys eating fish and especially likes a nice baked potato. He realizes that y/n is embarrassed as she does not know how to effectively remove the bones from the fish. He laughs a bit before speaking to her.
"I can definitely help you remove the bones from the fish" he seems confident that he can handle this part of the dinner tonight. "Oh God thanks" she say relived "i couldn't bare the teasing of the crew if they knew the 'dangerous killer in all blue don't know how to handle a fish"
Law chuckles at y/n's comment about the "Dangerous Killer in the All Blue", finding amusing the way she mocked her own title. But, he feels that it is an appropriate title for her as she is truly a formidable pirate in her own right. He say in a more friendly tone as he sees that she has relaxed somewhat.
"there is no need to worry about that now. They will not know it yet. I will be helping you with dinner tonight and we will be able to enjoy a wonderful, cooked meal with our crewmates. This will be fun."
She raise the knife she is using to choose the carrot "yet? don't you dare reveal my secret captain" she say trying to sound scary but it's clearly a joke as she couldn't controlthe little giggle in the end
He chuckles at her fake attempt at acting scary. He looks down at the knife in her hand and then he gestures for her to pass it to him so that he can start the job at hand. She gives him the knife and then she returns to slicing veggies for the dinner, or at least trying to
" Do not worry, my dear. Your secret is safe with me." seems to be enjoying the idea that y/n is trying to be a little less formal with him. He also appreciates that his crewmate is in a lighthearted mood. He begins to debone the fish with much care.
She giggles shaking her head, even tho she is acting friendly with him he is a trained pirate... he can see her slightly blush and her hands shaking a little. She may be a little nervous around him. He decides that he won't bring it up as he respects her own feelings. He doesn't want to push her into a conversation she may not be comfortable with. He finishes deboning the fish and then he looks over at her, as he speaks to her once again.
"I have successfully deboned the fish for dinner. Are there any other tasks that I can assist you with?"
She look in awe at how fast he did it "you already finish?!" He is slightly amused at her surprise. He speaks again with a confident tone, as though it is completely normal to debone fish in a matter of seconds
"Indeed, I did. I learned how to do this when I was still younger. I would help my hometown fishermen all the time when I was a child." Shel is starting to realize that Law might be more humble than she initially thought. She is also starting to see a new side to Law as she wonders if he could do anything else that is remarkable.She smile "speaking as someone that don't even know how to take the head of the fish... it's impressive..."
He laughs and nods his head in acknowledgement. He seems to be enjoying his interaction with her. He speaks to her in a friendly tone, as he slices another carrot and chops up a few potatoes for the pot. This gives him the chance to engage y/n in conversation once more.
"Y/n, is this your first time cooking, as a pirate? Your skill seems to be lacking." He smiles to indicate that he is joking around with her. "Dont tease me when I have a knife on my hand" she say playfully holding up the knife. He raises his hands in surrender. He speaks to her again as he slices more carrots. He looks over at her and then he continues to speak, in a mock serious tone.
"I am sorry, I'm sorry. I am only teasing you because you are not very good at cooking. I know that you can kick my ass easily if you wanted to." He laughs and makes sure to let y/n know that he is teasing her in a friendly way. He then resumes slicing more carrots. He does appreciate that y/n might use this as an opportunity to develop her cooking skills more.
"I will give you bread if you keep doing it" she say playfully back. He chuckles a little at her playful threat. He still does not want to test the patience of this powerful pirate. He decides to try and change the conversation up a bit, which allows him to relax more.
"Why don't you let me do the cooking tonight? I will show you how to prepare everything that is included in this dish." He seems to be quite calm now and he seems more relaxed as he speaks. His offer to teach her is an attempt to let her learn a new skill and to help strengthen her abilities as a pirate."Besides being a captain you are also a chef?" She say playfully "teach me then" He nods his head in response to y/n's question. He smiles at her as he gives her some instructions, before taking her over to the pot and explaining what to add.
"Alright, we'll need some potatoes and carrots. I'm going to add some salt and pepper to the water so that the flavor is enhanced." He then shows her how to add the carrots and potatoes to the pot, before he starts talking to her once again as they work together.*
"I'm glad that this is turning out to be fun for you. I didn't realize that you were so interested"
"I can bake well but salt food was always a challenge..." she admitted as she watch Law cut the potatoes. He smiles as he listens to y/n's confession. He is glad to see that she is trying to branch out in her cooking. He tries to reassure her and he speaks to her again. He wants to teach her how to prepare the potatoes, which he is currently working on now.
"salt is your friend in cooking; you just have to know how to use it without ruining the dish. What you want to do is add salt and pepper to the water you bring to a boil. It will help the potatoes be a bit tastier." He smiles once again and continues cutting the potatoes up.She follow as he say, seasoning the boiling water. He looks over at her and he sees her add the salt and pepper to the boiling potato water. He nods his head in approval at her efforts.
"you are learning quickly, my dear." He continues to show her how to cut up the vegetables, while also speaking to her as he works.
"Another important component of preparing potatoes is to ensure that they are not burned by the boiling water. You don't want to end up with a very overcooked dish. These potatoes should be slightly undercooked so they are still tender when eaten."
"You can... burn a potato in water?" She say cutely tilting her head in confusion He chuckles as he sees her confused expression. He wants to clarify the situation for her and he speaks to her once again. "Oh, you definitely can." He takes a minute to consider how he should explain this to her, as he has to do it in simple terms that she'll understand.
"If you keep cooking the potatoes for too long in the boiling water, they will turn a strange black and burnt looking color. This makes them tough and unpalatable." Law finishes cutting the potatoes and he begins working on the carrots.She have her mouth in a 'o' shape as like her world just expended. He cannot help but laugh when he looks at her. He cannot recall a time where he seen her this shocked. He speaks once again and he continues cooking up dinner.
"my precious comrade in arms, there are much worse things you can do while cooking than burning potatoes. I've seen men who are absolutely terrible at cooking cause so much chaos in the kitchen that it seemed as though they were attempting to burn down the kitchen. " he chuckles as he continues to work on dinner. She chuckes with him. He looked at her laughing a bit to much, he likes espend this time with her, like friends and not as crewmate and captain. He smiles as he looks over at y/n. He is really enjoying spending this time alone with her, which is a new experience for him. He is finding that talking to her without the usual formalities is very liberating and refreshing.
" I must admit. I do not dislike this current arrangement. I really do enjoy spending time with you, without the constant formalities." He adds another ingredient to the pot and he sets the carrots and potatoes aside for later. He has decided that he will prepare the main course for dinner. "Its good not talk back to you as we always do" she jokes about how they always end bickering about the mission. Law chuckles once more as he hears her make this comment. He is aware that they do enjoy engaging in friendly banter most of their time. He speaks to her again as he begins preparing for the next step in the meal. He seems a little relaxed and laid back as he speaks to her.
"If you didn't know already. Most of the bickering we engage in is done out of fun and not out of malice. You are one of my favorite crewmates, after all."
If this was meant to assure her, it has apparently done the trick. She cannot help but look delighted upon "Its good not talk back to you" She have a slightly blush on
Law looks over at her and he sees her smiling once again. He realizes that her cheeks are pinkening slightly and it seems as though she is blushing. He tries to hide a giggle, but he still laughs softly.
"Yes, yes... It is good that you aren't bickering at me right now." Law prepares to cook the protein for tonight's meal as he speaks to her again.
" But seriously, we might bicker, but we work in perfect harmony. We may argue about things, but we get the job done and that is all that matters." She nods, he could see she os flustered, she definitely have feelings for him... but he decided not talk about it for now, instead he preferred explaining how to so the fish. Law is getting a little flustered as he notices y/n's flushed, blushing, face. He does not know exactly what is causing it and he thinks it best to not msntion it... yet...
Okay he couldn't control himself
"are you alright? You seem a little flushed, my dear. You're not feeling unwell, are you?" Law is worried that she is not feeling well and as a result of that, she is blushing out of concern for her physical condition.
She start making the rice, she is kind clumsy but she can do it, but she is cutting the onin a little to big He steps forward and he takes over the task of cutting the onions. He smiles at her and he speaks to her again as he slices the ingredients for the rice, he chuckles to himself "You need to cut the onions and carrots smaller. If you make them this large, the texture of the dish will be quite uneven. You must cut the carrots and onions into fine, even pieces. I'll help you with it." Law seems to be quite enjoying the fact that he is preparing dinner alongside her. He likes learning that she is enjoying his company as well.She plays a little with him as she makes a move to cut the onions bigger "like this?" She have a playful smiles as she looks up to meet his gaze. He watches as she playfully tries to cut the onions as large as possible to annoy him. Despite her intentions, he finds this quite amusing. He chuckles softly as he takes over the task of cutting the vegetables again.
"Don't tease me now, dear. This isn't a competition to see who can cut the vegetables the largest. The dinner I am preparing is a dish that should have the vegetables cut very finely, for a pleasant texture.She chuckles"
"why i can easily cut someone neck easily but an onion is so hard?" She say a little annoyed. He laughs out loud once he hears her comment. Once he calms down a bit and collects himself, he speaks again to y/n as he helps her with preparing the vegetables for her dish. He is still not used to seeing her behave like this.
"I am well aware of your capabilities with a blade." He smiles and nods his head, before speaking to her again. "But this is not the same as when you are in the heat of battle. This dish will be ruined if you cut the vegetables in such massive portions."
" I almost taking my sword out to cut this" she say annoyed" Law chuckles once more as he cuts up the carrots, onions, and peppers very finely. He then sets the prepared ingredients aside and then he turns to y/n, who he sees is still struggling to cut up the onions in such a fine manner. He speaks to her in a playful tone again. It is his attempt to tease her, but it is very light-hearted in nature. " I am a bit concerned for this poor onion. You are treating it as if you intend to eat it without cooking it first. This onion is destined to become some delicious rice, not a play thing for you."
"I will trow it on the sea..." she say annoyed looking at the onion like it was her biggest enemy. Law laughs softly as he prepares the final step in the preparation of dinner: the rice. He speaks to her once again and he is still enjoying the fact that he is interacting with her without the usual formalities.
"the poor onion has no one to defend it as it is being cut up!" He cannot contain a tiny giggle as he speaks to her. His chuckle indicates that he is just being playfully teasing, as he is certainly not offended by anything that she is doing. He also seems to be amused by how much she hates cutting the onion.She left the knife on the bord as she cross her arms and slightly pout, its a cute scene in Laws eyes "i can't do it... ask me to kill a seaking but not to cut an onion"
He shakes his head at her display of annoyance. He speaks once again in a playful tone. He seems to be enjoying y/n's cute and endearing demeanor and he believes that she is too hard on herself. He knows that she might be struggling to chop up the onions properly, but he does not blame her for her mistakes.
"my dear, you are too hard on yourself. Just because you cannot properly cut this onion, it does not mean that you have failed. You can still learn to do it, especially with my help." She have an angry pout on he face a she clares at Law "the onion offended me"
Law cannot contain himself as he bursts out laughing. Hearing y/n claim such a silly reason for her inability to chop the onion makes him laugh even harder. While this is very amusing, Law still sees that she is upset for the fact that she is having difficulty chopping up the onion. He calms down so he can speak in a kinder, more gentle tone to her. He speaks to her as he carefully cuts some green onions for the garnish.
"the onion did not really offend you now, did it?" Law cannot contain himself as he bursts out laughing. Hearing y/n claim such a silly reason for her inability to chop the onion makes him laugh even harder. While this is very amusing.
"the onion did not really offend you now, did it?"
"It did!" She defended herself as it was obvious "why is so hard to cut it?"
Law seems to be quite amused that heis so deadset on the idea that this onion is her enemy. He speaks to her in the most convincing way possible as he shows her how to cut an onion. He also places his hands on top of hers and he demonstrates how to properly slice up an onion. " It's not hard to cut an onion. You just have to be careful and you must slice the onion thinly and evenly. There's a bit of a trick to it." Law demonstrates to her how she can easily cut the onion as if it were second nature to him. She plays close attention on his moves as his hands in on top of hers showing how to do it. He seems to be very perceptive of her feelings as he realizes that she is paying close attention to his motions and his demonstration. His hands are much larger than her own and the weight difference is quite staggering when they are side by side doing this. She seems to really be enjoying this. She is focused on Law and he is focused on her. He begins to grow a tiny bit flushed as he feels more and more heat coming from her.
Law couldn't help but feel how she is so soft against him... he likes holding her... more then he should
He begins to understand the feelings that he is experiencing as he feels how soft and delicate y/n's skin is against his. His gaze is locked on her and his heart beats faster and faster. He is very close to her and his hand is on top of hers. There is barely any space between them and their faces are practically inches away from one another.
Law's face grows hotter as he feels himself becoming flushed. He feels a very strange desire to hold her in his arms. He knows he should not act upon this impulse. He thinks to himself that this will be a mistake.
She sighs "why is so easy when you do it?" She say annoyed, resting her head against his chest as he is directly on her back
he smiles as he hears the slight sound that she makes when she sighs. The way her head is leaning against him makes him feel a strong surge of warmth in his chest. He knows he cannot act on these feelings but he finds it incredibly difficult to restrain himself in this moment.
he chuckles softly, his voice is a bit hoarse "y/n, you are trying to get me in trouble. Your head resting against me like this... you must be doing this on purpose." He laughs once again, yet again trying to restrain himself from expressing his deeper feelings.
She quickly lift her head to stop touching his chest, she have a light pink tone on her cheeks "sorry if i made you uncomfortable"
Law sees y/n's face become flushed with color once more, he can see that she is trying to hide her affection toward him. However, after their earlier conversation where she was so open and honest about how she felt, Law is not quite as convinced. He thinks about pulling her back towards him again, but he refrains from doing so. While he does think it would be fun, he realizes that it might be too improper for him to do. He speaks to her calmly once again."no need for apologies. I am not uncomfortable. In truth"
She nods slowly as they start to work once again, she could cut the onion this time not as perfect as Law but good enough to eat
He cut the onion into a more acceptable and even texture. This time, the onions aren't as large as the ones she cut previously, which makes the cuts look more like cubes and not odd chunks. He speaks to her once again as he continues with the dinner.
" I must admit, you have improved quite a bit. Your onions are becoming increasingly better. This is quite promising for you."
He is relieved to see that y/n's chopping skills are finally improving. She has clearly been paying attention to his teachings and his instructions have finally clicked with her. She is able to chop even the onion into small, evenly-sized cubes. Law does not know that he is blushing even more in the process, as he watches her chop the onions flawlessly. He speaks to her calmly once again.
"dear, you have improved immensely. Those onions are perfect." His words make her blush in a way that makes her look even cuter than before.He cannot help but smile proudly to himself.
"Thanks captain" she sutter a little, wich is not comum for such a deadly killer like her. Penguins and Laws little plan to get him pass more time with her to descover his real feelings for her only proved that he liked her back , but as her captain he feel that its not right to be in a relationship no
He sees the way that Angel blushes and her reaction makes him blush too. It is quite a cute sight. He then hears the way that she addresses him. Law's heart skips a beat, he suddenly realizes that she is addressing him in a more intimate way. He can tell that Penguin's scheme to bring him and y/n closer together was a success.
Law speaks slowly "You don't need to call me "captain" when it's just us." Hesounds a little distracted as his mind wanders. He seems to be thinking quite deeply about her words.
She tilt her head to the side "okay, Law" she say his name a she is experimenting the new intimacy he just gave her. Hecannot help but notice how she calls him by his first name. No one else has ever said it with such sweet voice, and it fills him with a strange feeling of tenderness. While he realizes that the moment with her is a more intimate one, he is also confused and nervous about what he feels toward her. He realizes that he is trying to maintain his composure even though he wants nothing more than to give in to his true desires.
he chuckles, trying to keep his cool. Law's face blushes again. Y/n is just so sweet and beautiful. He is struggling to maintain his composure. He also notices that she is looking at him with such kind eyes and her lovely smile makes his heart beat faster. He notices that he is beginning to sweat, even though he is not doing much physical work. His face grows even hotter and his hands begin to shake. His body is reacting in a most un-captain like fashion, but he is not sure of what to do or say.
Law shakes his head to clear his mind of the thoughts he was thinking about Y/n. He then looks to see what she smells and he smiles once he realizes that they have dinner ready. He speaks with her as he grabs their plates and he begins to load up their meals. He speaks to her in a calm and collected manner once more, trying to make himself sound normal.
"The fish is ready. Lets taste it before calling the others" He places the plate in front of her and he speaks with a soft smile, as he sees that her eyes are filled with excitement
_________________________________________
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icallhimjoey · 1 year
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Are you still gonna post any Christmas fics 👀
merry christmas to all, and to all a good night Wordcount: 1.3K
----
Core Christmas Memories 🎅🏻
"I don't want to say it's a bit much, but... it's..."
"It's a lot." Joe agreed with you, but he smiled proudly as he stepped back and admired his work.
Joe had turned your full living room upside down. He'd drank some of the milk, ate some of the biscuits, and then made the place look like Father Christmas had been drunk when delivering presents.
There were throw pillows strewn about, some of Hazel's lighter toys carefully placed onto the tree, chairs from the dining table knocked over and some placed upside down onto the coffee table. Your throw blankets had turned the dining table into a den and you knew Hazel was going to particularly love that a lot. Joe had placed everything down very carefully, and had taken his job very seriously.
"Hazel's not gonna know what hit her,"
"She won't understand, babe," you warned with a smile. "She might be too young still, I don't know,"
"Never too young to at least feel a little wonder," Joe kissed you on the cheek before turning off the lights. "Of course, we're gonna be so shocked," Joe instructed as you made your way into the bedroom. "So shocked," you confirmed. "She'll copy us immediately and then won't shut up about it for years to come,"
Slipping into bed, you were quick to find each other and cuddled up close together.
"You think?" you asked, and prayed that Joe was right.
"Absolutely, are you joking? The time Father Christmas brought presents and absolutely wrecked the place? This is core memory type of shit, trust me,"
You hummed in satisfaction, so very pleased that Joe was putting so much effort into his first proper Christmas morning with you and Hazel. You feared it would end up being mostly memories for himself, and that everything would be completely lost on Hazel.
"What's your first Christmas memory?" you asked, trying to at least drive home your point a little.
"Oh, I was definitely two."
You couldn't help but laugh softly.
"Yea?" you nuzzled closer.
"Oh yea, absolutely."
"Mine's from when I was like... eight," you said, and made Joe burst into loud laughter, only for you to immediately shush him through giggles of your own.
Hazel was asleep down the hall and had been particularly difficult at bed time that night. You didn't blame her, though.
Joe had been chasing her around after dinner, growling noises and all, climbing over the sofa and jumping over chairs. It had Hazel running, screaming and laughing, trying to find safety in your arms as you sat on the sofa and watched them. Hadn't worked. Joe's tickling fingers had found her in your lap just as well as he would've found her anywhere else. Hazel was left intoxicated by her own giggles and Joe's crinkled eyes as he saw his effect on her.
It had been the most heartwarming before-bed entertainment you had ever had, but it riled Hazel up so much, it was nearly impossible to wind her back down. Especially now that she was in her new big girl bed that she could easily climb out of whenever she so pleased.
It had taken you a long time to put her down.
"She's going to love it, I just know it," Joe said and you felt him press a kiss to your temple.
You woke up by Joe launching himself from your bed and flying into the hallway. You were sure that he heard Hazel in her bedroom and was quick to go and get her.
For a second, you thought maybe you'd get some morning cuddles in bed with them, but when you heard Joe coo, "Hazel, it's Christmas morning!" from her bedroom, you knew it was probably smart to swing your legs over the edge of the bed and get up and out as well.
There was no way you were going to miss this.
Meeting each other in the hallway, Hazel in her soft Christmas pyjamas and her tangled, messed up hair, Joe in a white T-shirt and his boxers, you all had a cute half cuddle together where you and Joe had a kiss, wished each other a merry Christmas and tried to get Hazel to say it too. Little Hazel was still too sleepy to want to speak and let her head rest on Joe's shoulder as he held her.
"Wait, let me get my phone," you said, rushing back to the bedroom to grab it from the charger.
You were going to need to film this so at least you could maybe show Hazel one day when she was older. Artificial memories from photos and videos were memories none the less, weren't they?
"Did Father Christmas come by? Will there be presents, do you think?" Joe spoke softly as he waited for you before opening the door to the living room.
You opened the camera app, swiped to video and started recording as Joe gave you a questioning look, already holding the door handle.
"Yea?"
Joe looked at the camera briefly as you nodded, and then his eyes turned to Hazel as he opened the door.
Joe had left the Christmas tree lights on the night before, for maximum magic in this moment. It was still dark outside, and the clustered lights lit up the room just enough for Hazel to be able to see the mess, the plate of half eaten biscuits and a massive pile of gifts underneath the tree.
Joe gasped loudly and watched Hazel closely for her reaction. Hazel stared into the room with a blank face, sort of panning around the space, and then rubbed an eye with a small fist.
You filmed Joe's face, and realised that, actually, the face you wanted to remember from this moment was Joe's. Joe, who was so excited he got to be a proper father to your baby girl for Christmas now. Joe, who had spent night after night wrapping up gifts, wasting so much wrapping paper and tape because he kept doing it wrong. Joe, who had taken care that you had all the food you'd ever need for Christmas day in your fridge. Who had taken the time to make your living room a big old mess, just because he thought it would be so very special for Hazel. Hazel, who barely understood what Christmas even was, but would surely be excited to unwrap some gifts and find new toys inside.
But Joe looked so excited. So full of wonder. Full of love.
You filmed Joe and Joe alone, zoomed in on his expressions as he whispered things to Hazel, feigned shock at the state of the place, eyebrows up so high on his face as he pointed around at various areas.
You filmed Joe as he squeezed your daughter tightly, pressed a kiss to her cheek just before she pointed at the gifts under the tree and he put her down.
Joe smiled at the camera when he saw that you didn't follow Hazel with it, and pointed for you to pan to her. You did, and filmed how she inspected the gifts, not even slightly bothered by her toys in the tree, or the chairs on the coffee table.
Joe walked into frame and sat down next to Hazel by the tree and you watched over your phone, wanting to see them without a screen in between you, and you felt a surprise tear escape your eye.
"Hazel," you called softly, and it made her look up at you. "Merry Christmas, baby,"
"Mehwy Gibsmas," Hazel said back and smiled at you through sleepy eyes.
Maybe these weren't memories meant for Joe, or for Hazel.
Maybe these memories were meant just for you.
-----
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supersources · 1 year
Text
interview with the vampire (2022):  episode 5,  a vile hunger for your hammering heart. tw:  murder, death, abuse, violence, blood, strong language, all vampire things.
* i can't die like this!
* let my dog live.
* it's a kill list in a teenager's handwriting.
* i'm trying to think of something more fucked up than this.
* they'll scale the sides of this building, force their way inside and paint the walls with his blood.
* don't look down on them, look in the mirror.
* he's an opinionated young man, he lives to share these opinions even when they are not solicited.
* what does he taste like?
* i didn't ask that.
* you were thinking it.
* he tastes like honey and pineapple, he stuffs himself for days before he offers himself to me. would you like to sample?
* i care for him more than he cares for himself.
* stay out of my head.
* you wouldn't find the corroboration you're seeking even if you could. we burned, we buried. and a convention city is not motivated to advertise grim statistics.
* i know what i'd do, but you've cut my hands off.
* don't do that, it's private.
* what night is it?
* i couldn't hear you over the tugboat.
* a whole lot of concern has been wasted on you these past months.
* did you read my other ones?
* well, you better hope and pray you taught me how to clean up good.
* you gonna let him do this to me?!
* i've read some passages out loud, i'm afraid. hurtful words for both of your guardians.
* i buried them, okay?! way out of town! nothing out there for miles, no one's ever gonna find them except maybe criminals burying bodies of their own.
* i'm never gonna forget what happened here. i hate you.
* get out of my room!
* you want money?
* i mean, it's always a straight line with you. yes, i am asking for your support in my campaign.
* sounds like there's a maniac on the loose.
* don't be too startled if the police come knocking on your door.
* i was in the middle of cleaning when they knocked.
* you often leave your daughter alone with access to illegal spirits?
* that's my daughter's room!
* oh, i'm getting ready for bed!
* have you lost your goddamn mind? overnight, in a jail cell, with no coffin. we all be dead by morning.
* we do not bring souvenirs into the house!
* so much wine in his blood... and beer, and whisky.
* you wanted her, you fix her!
* do you remember our life, how happy we were before her? an anvil tied around our ankles, pulling us towards the pitch-black ocean floor.
* who am i supposed to love?
* how are you gonna fix it, huh? which one of you is gonna fuck me?
* well, you're not my type, i like a fuller figure.
* if you could find other vampires, which you won't, they would shred you to strips because you are built like a bird, because you are a mistake.
* how about you shut the fuck up?
* he treats us like shit and you take it! why is that?
* you, as cruel as the devil ever made, to refuse me one love when you got two!
* i've been entertaining myself.
* i'll kill her soon.
* don't run off...
* why did you take me home? why not a hospital? maybe i'd have a handsome husband by now, or he'd be plain with a good disposition. that'd be fine too. i'd be sweeping floors, making dinners, nursing babies. maybe i'd go to church... you think on that some.
* i had no words for her, what words were there? "it all happened so fast", "i was trying to save you"... "all vampires are born out of trauma."
* poor dear. she wasn't held enough in between ritualistic murders.
* look, charlie manson wrote a couple of beautiful songs. still, he was charlie manson.
* is that all you think of her?
* it won't matter what your intentions are... it's the world out there right now.
* once you put it out there, they decide what it is. it can get away from you.
* i won't have her exploited.
* keep reading.
* keep talking.
* assume we are under suspicion. assume our finances no longer provide us protection.
* make your kills outside of the city, one a night. no persons of note... unfortunates, undesirables.
* we should leave the city, start anew, turn a betrayal into an opportunity. new york, chicago, los angeles...
* we should dismantle her room.
* she'll be back.
* there would be no roaring twenties for us.
* we were underground for seven years.
* (name), come home. i know i hurt you. i know i can make it right again.
* little girl... i'm talking to you. now what were you doing in the library? you're not allowed in there.
* i don't talk to strangers.
* you can read?
* just as i thought, a little thief. you're coming with me.
* what are you gonna do after that? after you turn her in, after it makes you feel like a big man, what's your next move, you think?
* you're not allowed to ride one of those on campus.
* this is our school, where is your fighting pride?
* you hungry?
* flaubert's style is so dense. the absence of metaphor is so striking...
* should we make it a night of the two?
* you sound like every pompous sorbonne student i've ever eaten.
* should i do it like you instead? read the first ten pages of every book and pass myself off as cultured?
* well, at least you're listening. i sit there thinking "light yourself on fire, see if he'll notice."
* you draw me into your gloom.
* it's your fault she's gone. if you hadn't pushed her...
* i cannot listen to this insanity about (name) one more time.
* i got to hear my own funeral. only couple dozen people showed up, most didn't have much to say. started talking about the weather a few minutes in.
* poor fella digging my grave lies resting on the family plot.
* what was he like, your maker?
* it ain't like that, he's more like a dad.
* oh, now there's three of us.
* got me wondering what it'd be like, ride with others, hunt in a pack. a little fang gang.
* you got a name?
* you don't kill like a (name), you kill like a killer.
* there are four pages torn out... did she tear them out? didn't seem like something she would do...
* when you do that, when you editorialize, however noble the reasoning, it calls into question all of the other shit you're shovelling my way.
* don't ask again.
* it could be her, but i'm the one who is presently standing in front of you.
* so, if my considerable considerables continue to be squandered...
* hello? oh, sorry... no, it's good to hear your voice.
* we're headed north... crash cleaned us out. and don't offer, 'cause i'm not asking.
* you look good.
* don't need that either, (name). or... whatever you are that took my (name).
* i prayed myself old, begging what to do about you. god never talked back, so... this is how it has to be, for me, for my family. you understand?
* i've come to apologize, i put you both in a bad spot. i wasn't right in my head... i am now.
* apology not accepted.
* so, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good?
* perused a few folklore anthologies and now you're going to cross the ocean to take on a society of monsters?
* if what i've read is lies, then tell me what's true.
* seven years and what's changed other than you need a housekeeper?
* the vampires out there are vicious... oh, but you know that already. who did you meet out there?
* that's it, keep 'em scared. that's his way.
* we took her life from her. we cursed her.
* come with me! come with me, (name)!
* i thought i could live without you but i was wrong.
* his love is a small box he keeps you in. don't stay in it!
* a thousand nights of sulking, and the first sight of her you're just gonna up and leave me?!
* please, come with me! let's be vampires worthy of your love!
* i fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper... i never once harmed you.
* let him go... he didn't do nothing. it's me you want.
* i have patiently waited in vain for you to love me as i love you. just say it... i'm never going to love you. it would help me a great deal to hear that from your lips... your quivering, hateful lips.
* let go of me.
* anything for you.
222 notes · View notes
pleasuretrade · 29 days
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hi here's the very rough(!) first chapter of a fic that i'm not done with.
if anyone wants to beta or just offer feedback i would be grateful :') but i'm writing this very slowly and don't plan on seeing it done for at least a few more months
March x Healy
Summary: 1980. March and Healy take your classic "reunite me with my estranged adult child" case and may or may not wind up getting involved with a cult, irritating 80's toys, shady business, gardening, and drugs. Oh, and they're pretending to be boyfriends because that's totally a perfect cover??
Rating: 18+ for the eventual porn
Length: I'm gonna guess 30k? I'm at 15k rn and we're maybe halfway through. frankly i got no idea
Tags that aren't exhaustive and mostly aren't applicable to this first chapter, but just a sneak peek: pretending to be boyfriends and there's only one fucking bed anyway bitch, March wearing jeans
 The thing about kitsch dolls was that they were supposed to be cute. In abundance they became disturbing. An uncanny noise of soft pastel abstraction, dotted with innumerable eyes, staring at you from living room walls and display cabinets. It didn’t help that almost all of them were religious; angels with halos, praying children, robed biblical figures. March felt like he might combust if he made direct eye contact with the teeming mass of holy ceramic.
“March, did you write that down?”
 Holland whipped his head toward Healy, and then at their client, and then at his open, empty notepad. See, you shouldn’t have that many dolls in one room, it’s distracting. It’s weird. “Sorry, ma’am, could you repeat that?”
“Benjamin Larry Hooper. We called him Benny.”
“Bejamin….L… Hooper… Benny.” March mumbled, pen dashing across the page with a show of gumption.
 Mrs. Hooper nodded at him, all patterned dress and curled hair, hands placed politely on top of their respective thighs. “He was fifteen when he left, he’ll be twenty-six now. Tall for his age, I’m sure he’s giant by now.”
 Holland wrote in big block letters: DOB 1953 TALL
“This is my most recent picture of him, just a few months before he left.” Mrs. Hooper, Francis, reached across her doilied coffee table to hand Healy a framed photograph. It was obviously some kind of family reunion, the photo lined with folks like a tin of sardines. “That’s Benny.” she said, tapping a young man sitting cross legged in the very front row.
 Benny Hooper looked like any other fifteen year old at a family reunion, irritated or bored or both. He had a great mop of hair, a downright halo of pitch black curls reaching every direction. The slacks and short sleeved button-down were probably not his normal choice of attire, so that wouldn’t be helpful even if the kid had disappeared less than a decade ago. The shot was too wide to memorize the details of someone’s face on top of being old. The Benny in the photo hadn’t even finished puberty yet. Overall, the photo wasn’t great.
“Very helpful, thank you. We could use any other photographs you have, too.” Healy smiled pleasantly the way he did. It was freakish, the way the guy could go from deadpan bruiser to soft-eyed teddybear in an instant.
 Holland smiled along, ignoring the everpresent eyes of Mrs. Hooper's kitsch, even though he knew that there was no chance in hell they were finding Benny Hooper.
-
 “There’s no chance in hell, man.” March lit his cigarette in the passenger seat and donned his sunglasses.
 Healy tapped his fingers where he rested his arm in the open window. “We have a lead.”
“If you wanna call maybe seeing a glimpse of someone you haven’t seen in eleven years driving a truck a couple of times a lead, sure, we have a great lead. Can we stop at Hammy’s? Told Holly I’d bring home dinner.”
“Y’know, I bet I could count on two hands the number of times you’ve gone proper grocery shopping since I’ve known you.”
“That’s not true, you went grocery shopping with us like two weeks ago.”
“And you bought eggs, bread, a gallon of neon colored juice, a gallon of whiskey, and five frozen pizzas.”
“Are those not groceries? Is that not sustenance?” March waved his cigarette for emphasis.
“Anyway,” Healy redirected, taking the turn toward Hammy’s, “all we have to do is stake out the spot she saw the truck, right?”
“If everything worked out just that easy we’d be out of a job, Jack.” March took a drag from his cigarette, thanking the stars that loaded, aging ladies were willing to shill out for the most unfeasible asks imaginable time and time again. Healy let it sit because he knew it was true by now, well over two years down the line as a PI.
“Why do you think the kid really left?” Healy asked after a while, expertly flat when Holland had figured out eons ago that the guy really was invested in each case, even the small ones.
“I don’t know, too many doilies? An aversion to puce colored carpet? I wouldn’t stay long either.”
 Healy ignored him. “I find it hard to believe he just up and left for no reason.”
“Maybe Mrs. Hooper’s chicken is dry.” Healy purposefully hit the curb pulling into Hammy’s, jostling March’s cigarette nearly out of his hand. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. Even if we find the kid, he’s not comin’ back. Ten fuckin’ years. Remember that girl, Arrow or Rainbow or whatever she named herself?”
 Healy grunted in reluctant remembrance. They’d found her after a long, boring two months and by the end of it all she’d had to say was ‘thanks for letting me know my family's looking for me, you can go now.’ Not that it mattered much to Holland. They made out with enough money to take a couple of weeks off so they could take Holly to Catalina Island. She got food poisoning on the first day but still claims it was the best trip they’d been on in years (which wasn’t very meaningful considering they’d gone on maybe three of them since she was little).
“Guess you’re right.” Healy parked the car in the crowded parking lot. The line at Hammy’s was always so damn long. “Not getting paid to psychoanalyze the guy.” He sounded reluctant. Any time Healy couldn’t slip in one more act of Good it made him feel like a failure. It was something March secretly admired, however harebrained it was. He glanced a punch off Healy’s shoulder before getting out of the car. “That’s the spirit.”
-
“So why do you think he really left?” Holly asked through a mouthful of burger.
“Jesus, you two should become shrinks.” March grumbled.
 Healy sat comfortably sunken into the couch, a March sitting cross legged on the floor on either side of him. “It might be useful to know.” he added.
“Right. Like maybe you’ll be able to narrow down what kinds of places he’d go if you knew.” Holly agreed.
“Our only lead is a truck. Anyone can drive a truck. I don’t care why he’s driving it. All we have to do is follow.”
“So you admit, it’s a lead.” Healy pointed at him with a french fry.
“It’s a crumb of a lead. It’s the suggestion of a lead. It’s a lingering scent of maybe a lead.”
“Says the guy with no sense of smell.” Healy winked at Holly, who bit her lip to stop her smile from blooming. “A lead’s a lead.”
“Did you notice anything about Mrs. Hooper’s house? Like, anything that might make someone want to run away?” Holly was fifteen and already putting in more work than March.
“Yeah, puce carpet.”
 Healy nudged March with a socked foot. “She seemed nice. Boring, maybe. Said her husband died a few years ago and her other kid’s off at college somewhere, so the house was pretty quiet.”
“Boredom could drive someone away.” Holly said thoughtfully.
“And if it did that still gives us absolutely nothing to go on. Some kids just hate their parents, alright? Guy probably just hitchhiked to New York or something.” March said.
“Sounds nice.” Holly murmured under her breath. Healy nudged her with his other foot.
 March, begrudgingly, loved the gentle way Healy mediated. Fatherhood was something Holland hadn’t really been prepared for, much less being the single dad of a teenager. It didn’t help that he was a big time fuckup or that Holly was too smart for her own good. Having another person in their lives— having Healy in their lives— was a saving grace.
 Recently, Holly had started dating her first boyfriend. Or at least the first that she’d admitted to when she’d lost all plausible deniability after that time they’d picked her up from school and seen her drop some young punk’s hand like a hot iron. It was a point of contention now, between Holly and Holland. Boys were pigs, and Holland would know, he used to be one. It was one of the endless number of things Healy had become referee over, but also something Holly had adopted a near constant attitude because of.
“So when are you starting the stakeout?” Holly asked, fiddling with the cracked straw of her milkshake. March looked at Healy for an answer. He was always better at managing their schedule. Unlike March, he usually remembered what day of the week it was. Healy looked back at him and shrugged. Wasn't like they had another case on, much to the dismay of their wallets. “Tomorrow, I guess.”
 Holly got that look on her face. “Can I come?” Tomorrow was a Saturday.
 March shook his head. “Don’t you have normal teenage things to do? Shouldn’t you be like sneaking vodka out of someone’s mom’s cabinet on a Saturday?”
 Healy chimed in before she could argue. “It’s gonna be boring anyway, Holl. You’ll be sitting in the backseat twiddling your thumbs all day.” She knew that. She’d been on stakeouts with them before. But Healy’s say was more valuable to her than her dad’s, apparently, so she dropped it.
 It was late when Healy headed home, agreeing on the asscrack of dawn to reconvene and start their stakeout.
“Why doesn’t he just live here? You guys spend every day together anyway.”
 March wandered into the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of rye. Their (second) rental, real house unbuilt as ever, was always so still when Healy left. Another item on the laundry list of things March tried not to think about. “Because he’s a grown man, Holly, with his own house.”
“I wouldn’t call that dump a house, and anyway it’s an apartment. He should be sleeping here and not in an attic with a laughtrack that plays until two in the morning.”
“Well then you can invite him to stay for a sleepover next time. You guys can paint nails and read magazines.” Holland wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t really what girls’ sleepovers were like. One time he’d walked in on Holly and her friend eating donuts and saying such depraved things about Joe Strummer that he’d vowed to not open the door without knocking ever again. He never looked at that Clash poster on her wall the same way.
 Holly scoffed in time with the ice tinkling into Holland’s tumbler.
-
 The sun shone way too brightly for Holland. When he’d woken up he’d still been a little drunk, but now out of the house and into Healy’s car a hangover had eagerly seeped in. They’d agreed to start the stakeout before the sun came up, but March had skillfully convinced Healy to take him through a drive-thru breakfast and they were running late. He now nursed a coffee as the sun rose into the perfectly wrong spot in the sky. They watched cars zip lazily by from the corner of a parking lot.
“I just think it would be good to have a dog around.” They’d had this discussion every other day for a month now. March wanted a dog in the house for the very logical reason of alerting them to intruders, Healy nay-sayed because he was a killjoy with no imagination.
“I’m telling you, March, putting in a doggy door just isn’t gonna be enough for a German Shepherd. And we all know you’re not gonna walk it.”
“Why do you even care so much, man? It would be my dog.” And more importantly, why did Healy even have a say in whether or not they got a dog?
“I care because I’d somehow get stuck taking it out half the time. And your sorry ass wouldn’t train it. We’d have an untrained, overpriced menace tearing around the house.” The house. Not Holland and Holly’s house, but The House.
“Well, whatever, even if that was true it’d make a good guard dog, right? No one’s getting past a pent up, feral German Shepherd. Might shit on the carpet but it’ll take a guy’s dick off. Balls too.”
“You should really consider a shrink. I think you’ve lost your damn mind.” Healy shook his head, but Holland caught his smile.
“You taking new patients, doc? I’ve been told by my teenager that I’m a headcase.”
“I could make some room in my busy schedule. Gonna cost you about the same as a purebred German Shepherd, though.”
 March smiled and leaned back into his seat. Absolutely nothing of interest was happening outside at all, which was just fine now but give March three or so more hours and he’d start going stir crazy and the headache wasn't helping.
 Mrs. Hooper had seen the truck twice, once in the morning and once in the early evening, which gave them an unfortunately broad window of time. She’d described it as a white, short cab semitruck, maybe a GMC, with a small trailer on it, which narrowed it down almost not at all. It sounded like every third short haul semi chugging around Los Angeles, of which there were many. Very many.
 The only thing they had to go off of was that the second time around she’d seen what she thought was some kind of blocky hand-lettering on the driver’s side door, done in “nearly illegible” multicolor. When Healy had asked what she meant by “multicolor” Mrs. Hooper had only elaborated as “horribly garish.” So at least there was that.
 The odds that the guy driving the bespoke truck was this Benny person were essentially zero. That was about half their cases these days, desperate longshots funded by desperate rich people. The other half was still taking photographs of idiots who fuck with the curtains open. It was wearing a little thin. Couldn't people invent more important problems to investigate? Whatever. A job’s a job’s a job.
 The coffee in March’s cup had gone cold just in time to meet the creeping heat from outside. He downed the tepid sludge before wrenching the little metal fan out of the back seat and plugging it in. It whirred to life gracelessly.
“Hey.” Healy tapped him on the arm, which startled and excited Holland enough that he flung his empty coffee cup onto the floorboards.
“What—what, you see something?”
 A short cab semi puttered toward them from a distance, aiming for a perfectly timed red light. Healy pulled up the binoculars and squinted through them, waiting for the cab to pull into view enough to see the driver’s door. March’s breathing was shallow in anticipation.
 The truck moved, and Healy tutted, and March could see the glaringly blank door even without the binoculars. “Driver’s blonde. Ginger beard.” Healy said, still staring through the eye pieces like the truck and driver might magically change. “False alarm.”
“They’re all gonna be false alarms. This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack, only the needle was never in the haystack to begin with.”
 Finally, Healy let the binoculars fall into his lap. “I ever told you how much I love your optimism?”
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madhatterbri · 4 months
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Christmas Showdown | J.P.
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Summary: During Christmas, your father wants to know about that comment.
Author's Note: Mild cursing. Work of fiction.
"And I'm still banging the hottest bitch in this entire place," Jack yelled into the microphone. The line he worked on for so long seemed to work. The rowdy crowd in the arena booed. A smirk plastered on his face.
If only he knew how much that comment would bite him in the ass.
"Merry Christmas, everyone," you sung happily as you walked inside your parent's house. Jack followed right behind you and closed the door. The warmth of your family's home a nice change from the chill outside.
The house went silent as the two of you walked in. Your mother and sister cleared their throat and nodded their heads towards the kitchen as if ushering you there. Your dad cheered loudly from the livingroom as he watched his favorite team play.
"Jack, I'm going to help them with cooking dinner. Why don't you watch some football with my dad?" You asked wanting your dad and Jack to finally meet. Your boyfriend turned on his heel but was stopped by your mom.
"Oh no, honey, her dad loves his football. Now isn't the time to talk. Besides we need a man with muscles to help us out in the kitchen," your mom smiled and patted your boyfriend's muscular arms. Jack walked into the kitchen. You followed feeling like something was wrong.
"What's wrong? Why are you guys being weird?" You asked.
"Your dad remembers a certain comment Jack made about you on an AEW taping one night," your mother answered wiping her hands nervously against her apron. "I tried to tell him it was all for a story but it was the way it was delivered,"
"Comment?" You asked. "What certain comment?"
Your sister pulled up a video from Youtube. It was the night he turned heel. Your blood ran cold. Your breath hitched in your throat. The words that caused controversy poured out from the cell phone's speakers. Oh no.
"What did dad say?" You asked.
"He wants to talk to Jack. It should be halftime and our team is up. Maybe this will be a good time since he's in a good mood," your sister encouraged. A fake look of hope shined on her face.
Jack pursed his lips yet nodded. He silently prayed your dad wouldn't kill him. The Jungle Boy was known to push the limit sometimes. He swore ppenty on television and wore a shirt that read Christian is a pushy. He rubbed his head nervously before walking into the livingroom.
"Hello, sir, my name is Jack. Nice to meet you. Your wife said you wanted to talk to me," he shifted his feet uncomfortably.
"I know who you are," your dad spoke roughly. "The man that talked down about my baby,"
"Listen, I wanted to apologize for the comment I made at your daughter's expense. It was used to fully push me to be the bad guy for our job," he explained. "It was wrong of me and I'm sorry,"
"I understand it's just for entertainment. She's just my little girl, you know?" He asked.
"Yeah, next time I will get the crowd riled up another way and not at the expense of your daughter," Jack promised.
"Good to know, besides, I'm banging the hottest b in this place. You got it?" your dad informed him while standing up from the rocking chair. Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. You always warned him about your dad's sense of humor and love for your mom. The man seemed to try and make a joke out of a bad situation. At least he was warming up to him.
"Ye-yes sir," he answered.
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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months
Text
The Night Nurse - Ch 8
A John Wick x Helen Fic
When nurse Helen Morgan is caught in the crossfire of a shootout and aids the injured John Wick, she’s faced with two options: serve the High Table, or be executed as a Witness. She tells herself her choice to work at the Continental has everything to do with survival, and excellent pay, and *not* her growing feelings for the Tall, Dark, and Handsome Assassin™ who got her into this mess in the first place, thank you very much. │ Masterlist / Chapter Map │
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VIII.
This was a day for firsts. John found himself seated at his dining room table, the modern behemoth that could seat ten, but had only ever serviced dinner for one. Later, there would be two. Now, it was being used as a medical table while Helen administered fresh stitches.
“This time,” she mused while finishing off a knot, “Let’s wait for you to heal completely before engaging in strenuous activity.”
“I would never get anything done.” She leveled him with a look, indicating this was not the correct answer. Though he knew he walked on dangerous ground, the corners of his mouth twitched. “Yes, Nurse.”
“That’s more like it.”
She applied a fresh bandage. “Try not to get this wet in the shower.”
He was no stranger to wound care routines. “Sure.”
As she pressed the last bit of adhesive her fingertips lingered over the curve of his deltoid, tracing the black cross there lightly. It caused a shiver to run down his spine. This time, he didn’t try to hide it.
“Are you…a religious man, John?”
He shook his head slowly, anticipating her next line of questioning.
“You have a lot of religious tattoos.”  
“They mean a certain thing to people in my world. It has very little to do with Christianity, believe me.”
“You mean, our world?”
John titled his head in a silent question of Really?
“Just saying. I made my oath to the High Table. No one’s come after me with a tattoo gun.”
“You haven’t done hard time,” he answered quietly. “And I would like to keep it that way.”
Her eyebrows shot high at that. “Were you in prison?”
“Once.”
“For how long?”
“Three years.”
“You didn’t get three years for homicide.”
“I was very well behaved.”
She narrowed her eyes, weighing him with that molten caramel gaze. “I think you’re fucking with me.” Hearing her say it, no matter the context, twisted him up with a sudden unforgiving wave of desire. Then, she sighed. “Sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”
He caught her hand before she could draw away, so quickly she’d barely seen him move.
“I’ll tell you,” he offered quietly.
“Okay.”
She stepped closer, standing between his splayed legs, as though sharing these dark secrets required a more intimate proximity. Her fingertips toyed with the ends of his hair, and not for the first time, John thought he might just die.
“I...said I was an orphan.”
“Yes.”
“My mother died in a car accident, when I was very young. Not long after, my father was…killed, in a street robbery.”
“Oh, John.”
“I spent years in the orphanage. When I proved strong enough to survive...I was adopted. Sold, more like. To a crime organization that took children to mold as they saw fit. They taught me how to kill, and they gave me these tattoos. The arm cross, for my first kill. It signified my devotion to their cause.”
Her eyes went wide. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Shit.” There was the glimmer of tears in her eyes, and he felt a tremor inside, a fissure in his armor, cracked open by her compassion. He could not stop himself from holding her hand against his cheek with a desperation that he had not felt since he was a young boy. John closed his eyes, knowing he could not go on speaking while looking upon her lovely features pulled with such worry and pain, for him.
For him, he marveled, a creature so cloaked in darkness and destruction so as to never deserve forgiveness.
She truly was an angel of mercy.
“The praying hands came when I graduated from their school. It’s like a brand of ownership. It means…the bearer is asking for mercy that is rarely granted. Not from God though. From…Her. The woman who ran the syndicate. She was our God. Our judge. Our Executioner.” John found he couldn’t bring himself to name the Ruska Roma to Helen. He had a sinking intuition that it could be dangerous. A feeling that she might do something brave, and stupid, like ask around until she found the Tarkovsky theatre, and march out to tell The Director off on his behalf, with that magnificent Irish temper of hers. 
“That is horrible. You can't own people,” she protested, her words brittle. He almost smiled for her naivety.
“You can, where I come from. Where life is cheap, and freedom is a fairytale. It’s how most of the world lives, sweetheart.” The endearment slipped from his lips before he could stop himself. She did not seem to take offense though, so absorbed in the horror of what he was telling her.
“But...this wasn't the Tarasovs who did this to you?”
“No. They bought me, essentially, when I was a young man. I was becoming difficult to control. She didn’t quite manage to break me, like so many of the others. I wanted…more, than the enclosed world She allowed us to inhabit. I think She sensed I would tear down what she’d built, if She didn’t let me go. In a way…Tarasov was a blessing. At least in the Bratva you can have a life that is somewhat your own, so long as you get done what Viggo needs done.” 
“Oh, John…”
It was so heartbreaking to her, that his formative years had been so brutal that joining the fucking Russian mob had been a kinder placement.
But there was more, and now that he’d started talking about it, it was as though he couldn’t stop. The words just kept pouring.
“I didn’t put it together until I was much older, but I suspect my father was like me. He came from the same…syndicate. Raised to do what I do from a young age. But he must have run away to be with my mother. I think they found him and killed him for it, then She took me as…revenge? Payment? A warning? I’ve never known for sure.”
He had not found out, from an offhanded comment here and some digging there, until long after he’d left the Ruska Roma. If he’d known when he was a young firebrand, he absolutely would have burned the Tarkovsky Theatre to the ground no matter the consequences.
“Jesus, John.”
John finally opened his lids when he felt her fingers sliding through his sweat-damp hair, her eyes filled with compassion. He did not resist when gently she pulled him into an embrace, his cheek resting against her chest. The steady beat of her heart beneath his ear calmed him, grounded him from the spiral calling up these memories could inspire. Her hand rested on the crown of his head, and maybe it was ridiculous, but…for the first time, in a very long time, he felt safe.
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He could have stayed there forever, but it seemed…disingenuous, to take advantage of her compassion that way. Little did he know, she would have held him for hours if he asked her to.
She looked down at him like she could see straight through him, nodding slowly to all this information he’d imparted, her fingers still sliding languorously through his hair.
“If I ever meet this bitch, I’m going to punch her in the face.”
The very thought pulled the tiniest suggestion of a smile from John’s lips. “I believe you. And that’s why I’m not giving you a name.”
“Are there that many women-led crime syndicates in New York?”
“You might be surprised.”
“Hmm. So…if the Tarasovs bought you….Jesus, I hate that…do they still own you?”
His heart felt as though his blood had thickened to lead. But they’d come this far, and he owed her nothing less than the truth. 
“I’ve climbed the ranks. I have standing. I’m not a slave, but no one gets out, when you’re in as deep as I am. It would require…an Impossible Task.”
The furrow between her brows broke his heart. He wondered if that quick and beautiful mind was absorbing all this information, sorting it out and weighing the gains and the consequences…and inevitably arriving at the only sane conclusion: how can you be with a man, if he’s owned by someone else?
It was a conclusion she had every right to make, but it hurt. It hurt in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, an ache deep in a part of his heart he hadn’t managed to numb over the years.
“Are you happy now, at least?” 
The question only further twisted the knife. Only recently, had he begun to actually feel that elusive emotion. It had more to do with her than any of the relative freedom or vast wealth he’d accrued.  
“I'm...getting there.” A part of him wanted to finish the thought. Because of you. But his conscience stopped him—he didn’t want the burden of his happiness resting on her shoulders, when already this amazing woman carried so much. He had to lighten the mood, or their evening would be ruined, and it would be all his fault.
“You know there was one good thing She taught me.”
“Oh?”
“How to dance.”
“What?”
“Ballet.”
Helen frowned at the absurdity of this notion before laughing out loud. “I think you’re fucking with me again.”
John decided to take that moment to stand, the fronts of their bodies nearly pressed in a line. His hands found her tiny waist, as though it was their natural resting place. “I’ll prove it to you. Want to do a lift?”
“Don’t you dare!” she squealed, skipping away across the floor, putting a chair between them. “I am not redoing your stitches again!” It took every iota of his self-control not to give in to his hunter’s instincts and chase her, grab her up, and finally slant his mouth over hers to make her his. He found his cheeks hurt from the strain of grinning wider than he ever had, though he feared it might more resemble a baring of teeth.
Helen’s eyes shone with laughter, her lips parted. She really was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
   “Did you do that just to cheer me up?” she asked, the softness in her voice squeezing his heart like a fist.
“Would I do such a thing?”
She narrowed her eyes, seemingly for the umpteenth time that day. “I am going to go take a shower, Mr. Wick. And you had better get started on that dinner you promised me.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He watched her disappear down the hall towards the guest bedroom, a lightness in his heart that almost confused him. Was this the relief to be found in confessing one’s sins? Or was it her? Just the miracle that was Helen Morgan, and these feelings she inspired in his breast. He dared not name it; for anything John Wick had ever loved, had died in some way.
He couldn’t bear to curse Helen too.
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ladykissingfish · 5 months
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We've seen a "Sasori jealous of Deidara" ... Now we need one of Deidara jealous of Sasori 🙈🙈🙈💕
I tried 🙃
*Deidara folding clothes and Sasori at his desk, reading*
Deidara: Sasori. I want to ask  you a question, hm.
Sasori: Mm?
Deidara: You … you know that when I slept with you that first time, it was my first time ever. D-doing that, I mean. I know I told you that. But, um … I was just wondering if … if …
Sasori: You wish to know if that was my first time, as well?
Deidara, blushing: Y-yes. 
Sasori: Do you want an honest answer?
Deidara: Yes. Always.
Sasori: *sets down his book and turns his chair to face Deidara* No. You weren’t my first.
Deidara: *despite trying to keep it together, his face falls* I wasn’t? Really?
Sasori: No. Is that upsetting to you? 
Deidara, quickly: N-no! Of course not! But … can I ask who it was?
Sasori: It was so long ago, why does it matter?
Deidara: I’m just curious, hm. Please, tell me?
Sasori: Well, it happened when I was about 17 years old. I was traveling and I stopped at an inn for the night. The innkeeper was this very talkative girl, who —
Deidara: Girl?? You slept with a woman before?!
Sasori: I don’t have to go on if this truly bothers you, you know.
Deidara: It’s not! Go on!
Sasori: Anyway, long story short, we talked a long while, and towards dawn she took me into this little room behind the counter and she gave me my first experience with that.
Deidara: I see. And that was it?
Sasori: That was it. It was something I simply wished to try, so I did.
Deidara: Was she pretty?
Sasori: Dei …
Deidara: Come on, you said it was a long time ago, right? Was she pretty? Did she have long hair like mine? Were her eyes —
Sasori: Deidara. Are you … you couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you?
Deidara, angrily: Of course not! Don’t say stupid things, hm! *gets up* It’s time for my bath, so —
Sasori: Deidara. *pats his lap* Come and sit.
Deidara: I don’t —
Sasori: It’s not a request. Sit. Now.
*Deidara reluctantly crosses the room to sit on Sasori’s lap*
Sasori: My Deidara. My sensitive baby. I shouldn’t have to tell you something so obvious, but, sex does not always equate with love. It certainly didn’t with me and that girl; a person whose name I don’t even remember. But do you want to know something?
Deidara: Y-yes?
Sasori: That night, shortly after you and I did it. You were laying in the bed, so deeply asleep. I must have watched you for hours. And then when I couldn’t take just watching anymore, I couldn’t keep my fingers out of that gorgeous hair of yours. At one point, my fingertips brushed against your cheek, and you smiled. You were sound asleep but you presented me with the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen in my life. And for the first time in my life, I knew: THIS is what love is. It actually scared me a little, because the way that smile made me feel meant that no matter what, I would forever be in love with you. And I’d stopped praying long ago but I prayed you felt the same.
Deidara, tears running down his face: I do, Danna. More than anything, hm.
Sasori: *kisses him* Good. Do you feel better now?
Deidara: Yes. Thank you. Now I know that a meaningless experience from your past has no effect on our relationship right now.
Sasori: Meaningless? I wouldn’t say meaningless. That one night taught me possibly the most useful thing of my entire life.
Deidara, surprised: O-oh? And what is that?
Sasori: It taught me … that I am absolutely, unabashedly, one thousand and twelve percent terrified of vaginas. And breasts? *shudders* Don’t get me started on those crazy things. 
Deidara: *bursts out laughing* Geez, Danna! You can’t just say stuff like that! Women are strong and powerful and —
Sasori: I know all that, I’m just scared by what’s underneath their clothes. God, I accidentally saw Konan without her robe once and I don’t think I blinked for two weeks. I —
Hidan, from the other room: You lucky asshole! I’d kill for a view like that!
Deidara:
Konan, making dinner in the kitchen: *grips the knife tighter*
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jostyriggslover96 · 2 years
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Unexpected Connections Pt.4
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Summary: Y/N has a complicated history with Navy men and has sworn off dating them completely. When she finds herself working at the Hard Deck to earn some extra money, Navy men are hard to avoid. Catching the eye of Rooster, Y/N is determined to avoid any potential feelings she may have for him, despite his persistence. Will Y/N be able to avoid her feelings for Rooster and avoid the Navy man that made her resent the profession? Or will she make some unexpected connections that she can’t shake off?
AN: I honestly can’t express how touched I am by all the love everyone is giving this story. I truly appreciate every like, reblog, and comment. I hope everyone enjoys this part! As always, if you want to be tagged let me know!
Warnings: Swearing, complicated relationship with a parent, mentions of alcohol.
Word Count: 3.5k
Pt.3  Pt.5
Unexpected Connections Part 4
It was around noon the next day, you were still in bed cozy under the covers. You’d worked a late shift at the Hard Deck after going for a flight with Rooster and grabbing burgers with the rest of the ‘dagger squad’. You were trying to sneak in a few more minutes of sleep as you knew it would be another long night. Dinners at Penny’s usually went late, typically ending with you and Maverick getting into a heated argument about who actually won the game after dinner and who cheated. In your defense, your mother taught you to be competitive at board games.
Just as you were drifting off once again, your phone started buzzing. Groaning, you rolled over to see who was calling, silently praying you could ignore the call. Your mother’s face popped up on your phone screen, no such luck with getting extra sleep.
“Hi mom,” your voice heavy with sleep as you answered.
“My lovely daughter, why is Penny the one telling me about a budding romance you have with a hunky pilot?” her voice a mixture of teasing and scolding.
“Damnit Penny!” you exclaimed as you rubbed sleep from your eyes. “I wouldn’t say it’s a budding romance.”
“I think Penny knows the signs, she’s seen you fall in love before.”
“Mom, I am not in love!”
“She said you seem very torn up about it, what’s going on?” her voice quickly becoming the comforting motherly voice that coaxed you through the hardest times of your life. You let out a long sigh, debating if you should get into the whole thing or not. “Sweetheart, you know you can tell me anything.”
“He’s really great, it’s just this, uh, this one thing. He’s…well he’s in the Navy,” you paused for a long while. “Top Gun to be exact,” you grimaced, unsure how your mother would respond to the news.
“Oh honey, I think I know what’s going on here.” She probably did, your mother always knew. She used to joke that ‘mothers always know’, and that always proved to be true. “Not every aviator is your father, don’t let him get in the way of your shot at love.”
“What if it doesn’t work out? What if we fall in love and he leaves me?” your eyes filling with tears as you opened up to the one person in the world who knew you best.
“Honey, there are so many what if’s we could run through, who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow. But don’t you think we did alright without your dad? He may have left, but we built a wonderful family with Penny and Amelia,” her tone was soft. It was the soft tone that made you feel safe and warm on your darkest days.
“Family isn’t always blood,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself.
“Exactly, now don’t let your father cloud your view of the world. He is simply one person in a world filled of wonderful humans. I think it would be a shame if you missed out on love because of something that happened well over twenty years ago.”
“You might be right…I think I do sorta like him…,” you trailed off.
“Honey, I’m always right,” your mother commented, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. After the chat you had, she wasn’t wrong, she always knew what to say.
“I’m scared mom,” emotion flooding you once again.
“The scariest things in life are the things that are worth doing honey.” She let you sit there for a moment in that, this talk was just what you needed. You might be ready to let him in. “What dessert are you bringing to Penny’s?”
“Uhm, I think Lemon Meringue Pie. I was going to make it this afternoon, why?”
“Oh nothing, it should just be an interesting night.” You could practically hear her smirk through the phone.
“Why, what do you know?” you were incredibly suspicious. Penny and your mother were always scheming about something.
“Nothing at all, now I have to wrap this up. I love you honey,” her tone didn’t convince you that she wasn’t hiding anything.
“Convenient, love you too mom,” sighing as you ended the call and tossed your phone on the pillow.
You laid there for a while thinking about Rooster, daydreaming to be more exact. Wondering what your first date could be like, or your first kiss or what your routine would be like as a couple. Would he stay up reading in bed just like you? Would he join you for your morning coffee or your morning run? Would he cook you dinner when you were tired after work? Or let you hide in his shoulder after you insisted on watching a scary movie? Would he hold you during those moments where the tears flowed? Is he the partner you’ve been looking for all along. Those were all things you wanted the answers to. You wouldn’t allow your mind to wander there before, but your mom was right, you weren’t going to let your father get in the way of you living your life.
Now If you could only figure out what your mom meant about the dinner being ‘interesting’. It was just a normal dinner at Penny’s, you did this all the time. Maybe Maverick was finally going to take you down at Monopoly.
Little did you know, this was no ordinary dinner at Penny’s house. No, there would be a guest joining you. A single guest that Penny thought would change everything for you. This was anything but an ordinary dinner….it was a set up. An interesting night it would be indeed.
----------------------
You spent the rest of the day slaving over your pie in the kitchen. It was worth it though, this might be your best Lemon Meringue pie yet. You smiled as you glanced down at the pie you were carrying, your walk to Penny’s almost over. You decided to wear the cute concert t-shirt you got at the first Taylor Swift concert you took Amelia to when she was 10. You knew Penny always got a kick out of Amelia telling the story of you warning Amelia not to eat too much cotton candy and her defying your advice. Let’s just say that ended with Amelia puking on the side of the road as you made your way home.
As you rounded the corner to Penny’s house you noticed someone waiting on the porch. Coming closer, you recognized the sandy brown hair, tan skin, and signature Hawaiian t-shirt on the aviator that had been encapsulating your thoughts. The step creaked as you arrived on the porch, Bradley Bradshaw turning over his shoulder to flash his signature panty dropping smile at you. What was he doing here? I guess this is what your mom meant by interesting.
“Y/N, good to see you, I thought it would just be me tonight,” Bradley smiled as he wrapped an arm around you in a half-hug, sparing the pie from being ruined. Your skin felt like it was on fire where his fingers brushed your arm.
“Uhm, hey Bradley,” offering a nervous smile in return.
“Ooh, Lemon Meringue Pie is my favorite,” he commented as Penny opened the door. Shit, you were in trouble. The man in front of you just might be your soulmate.
“Hey you two, don’t you both look nice!” Penny greeted you both as she ushered you in the house. You shot her a dirty look as you passed her at the door. She had an innocent smile plastered on her lips. Maverick however, looked much more nervous as you entered the Livingroom.
“Hi Penny, Maverick,” you pursed your lips in a terse smile as you greeted them both. Bradley greeted Penny and Maverick with a hug as you stood there wondering what the hell was going on. Bradley seemed unfazed by your presence, he was always calm and collected. You however would’ve loved a heads up that the man who was quickly winning you over would be at dinner.
“Y/N, you’re making me look bad for not bring anything,” Bradley teased as you adjusted your grip on the pie. Damnit, you even loved when he teased you. What is happening to you?
“Just yourself is fine Bradley,” a sly smile gracing Penny’s face. Oh, she had planned this whole thing.
“If I had known there would be five of us I would’ve made a bigger pie,” shooting daggers at Penny as the four of you stood around the room.
“Oh, sadly Amelia won’t be joining us. She already had plans with friends, so it’ll just be the four of us,” Penny responded with a smirk.
“Is that so,” you responded at the same time Bradley mumbled ‘too bad’. The tension in the air was thick. As annoyed as you were at Penny, you felt like yourself inching closer and closer to Rooster. Drawn to him like a bumblebee to a fresh flower.
Maverick cleared his throat awkwardly, “here, let me put that in the kitchen Y/N,” Maverick said while reaching for the pie. As he grabbed the pie from you he whispered in your ear, ‘this wasn’t my idea’. Even Maverick didn’t want his name on this plan.
“Well come on in, let’s grab some drinks, dinner is practically ready,” Penny gestured for the two of you to join her in the kitchen.
“After you,” Bradley said softly, his hand brushing against your back as he let you go ahead of him.
“What a gentleman,” Penny commented as she walked ahead of the two of you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, Penny was laying it on thick. It was clear to you now that this was a set up. As you entered the kitchen, Maverick was waiting for you with a beer, as if this moment had been rehearsed with Penny so it would be perfect.
“Now Bradley, if this seems like an odd combo tonight, it was Y/N’s favorite meal when she was younger,” Penny smiled as Rooster offered you the chair he pulled out at the table. Your cheeks heated up as you offered a quick thank you and took your seat.
“I sure hope you aren’t serving us Dino chicken nuggets,” you joked a you reached for your beer that you set down while you were getting seated. Your fingers brushed Rooster’s as he was reaching for the beer he set down beside yours. You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you as your hands touched, Rooster offered you a smile as he pulled his hand away. How was he so calm? You wouldn’t learn until much further down the road, but Rooster was not that calm on the inside. He actually felt flustered noticing you weren’t shying away from him anymore.
Penny broke you out of your trance, “no silly,” she chuckled. “We’re having Bruschetta, cheesy potatoes, and Greek salad.”
“You liked bruschetta as a kid?” Rooster questioned, sending you a weird look.
“Hey! It’s delicious, don’t knock it until you try Penny’s recipe,” you replied defensively, gently smacked him on the arm. He bumped his shoulder with yours as you stuck your tongue out at him, becoming a complete child. As if on cue, Maverick appeared at the table with two plates for you and Bradley.
If you thought Penny was laying it on thick before dinner, you really hadn’t seen anything yet. It was almost as if Penny had carefully curated the topics of conversation for the evening to bring you and Bradley closer. She started by discussing your time in dance while you were growing up and Bradley’s time in baseball; she even had pictures to go along with the conversation.
She told the story of how you threw up the first time you rode in an airplane when Penny and your mom took you to Disney World. Bradley let out a deep laugh and expressed gratitude that you hadn’t gotten sick when he took you flying yesterday. Then conversation shifted to you graduating with honors when you got your education degree before exploring Bradley’s successful time as a Top Gun candidate. Neither you or Rooster got to contribute much to the conversation as Penny was carrying out her master plan.
You had to admit, it was nice learning more about Bradley. You definitely enjoyed what you learned, there was something about him. He was different. The two of you kept stealing glances at each other as Penny not-so-subtly pointed out details of your lives that the other would enjoy. As the evening went on the glances went from fleeting to longing. It was getting harder to ignore your feelings for him. Maybe you could give into him.
The pie was served as Penny detailed your interesting journey fixing up your moms house when she moved back to Chicago. You laughed as you recounted the time you were too aggressive when prying open a paint can, ending with you covered in lavender paint. Rooster was splitting a gut at your story. Good vibes were in the air. Penny didn’t miss beat when she mentioned that Rooster was fixing up his family home and suggested you help him out, seeing as you were an expert. Rooster too eagerly agreed to have you help, making you smirk while he tried to play it cool in order to recover.
Just as you thought the evening was winding down Penny asked you who you were taking to your cousin’s wedding in September. When you informed her that you were going solo, she kindly volunteered Bradley to go. You attempted to kick her under the table as she pointed out that ‘you would be such a cute couple’. You could’ve died right then and there. Your cheeks getting hot as you were too mortified to meet Bradley’s eyes.
“You don’t have to Bradley, Penny shouldn’t have volunteered you,” you tried to hide the fact that you were seething at Penny’s suggestion as you let him off the hook.
“If it’s not weird I would love to go, I’ve never been to Chicago” he offered softly as he reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His reassurance was all you needed to relax once again. Your eyes locked on his sending warmth throughout your body. The two of you lingered for a moment, holding each other’s gaze as if you were the only two people in the room.
“Well if only to change the fact that you’ve never had true deep dish pizza before,” you flirtatiously teased him. He sent you a smile in response that set your heart on fire, a man like him could bring you to your knees.
Before the evening was over Penny insisted on playing a few rounds of Celebrity. Obviously, she paired you with Rooster, another part of her master plan to bring the two of you together. You hated to admit it, but her plan was working. You felt so comfortable with Rooster and could see all the ways he fit into your life.
As the game went on the two of you clicked in way that you didn’t know was possible, you could get used to nights like these with him by your side. The two of you absolutely crushed Penny and Mavericks score, much to Maverick’s chagrin. You and Bradley even shared an electric hug after a particularly intense lighting round. There was something about Rooster’s arms that made you feel at home. It was in that moment that you were sure, you were going to break your number one rule. You were going to date a navy man.
As annoyed as you were that Penny sprung this evening on you, you were also somewhat happy with how it worked out. You got to know Bradley on a deeper level which made you like him even more. That was probably Penny’s plan all along. Yet, when Penny suggested that Rooster walk you home, you weren’t protesting anymore.
That’s how you found yourself walking under the moon and the stars, arm brushing Bradley’s as you marveled at the night sky. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you strolled down the sidewalk near the beach. It was nice, just being with him, no pressure or expectations.
“Penny sure wasn’t subtle tonight was she?” Rooster broke the silence. You practically snorted in agreement, boisterous laughter taking over.
“That’s an understatement,” you replied between giggles. “She’s always been direct, but this was pretty next level.” Rooster erupted in laughter, agreeing with your analysis as you continued on your short walk home. As the laughter died down and you rounded the corner to your street, Rooster gently tugged on your arm bringing you to a halt on the sidewalk. His skin warm on yours as your eyes drifted to meet his once again.
“Look, Penny’s insistence aside, I understand where your hesitancy is coming from. You have every reason to be wary of navy men and I’m not going to pressure you,” his voice soft yet raspy at the same time. God, it was sexy. He turned his body away from you, ready to continue walking.
“Rooster stop!” you reached for him once more, not liking the sudden loss of contact. “I’ve always been very firm about my rule with navy men,” you started, Rooster glanced down at his feet, a look of defeat written on his face. This was the first moment he appeared to lack confidence in front of you, letting his vulnerability shine through. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you took a shaky breath before continuing. “As scared as I am, Bradley, I want to try. I want to give us a shot,” your fingers caressing the base of this neck.
“Really?” he let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know he’d been holding in. “You want to give us a try?” his eyebrows lifted as his arms came to rest around your waist. You nodded eagerly, bringing yourself even closer to him than before. It was there in his arms under the stars that you understood what Meredith Grey meant when she explained Derek was her person. You found a man who accepted you for everything that you are, even the difficult parts of you. He never made you feel ashamed of the messy parts of your life. You felt at home with this man, like you’d known him in a past life.
The two of you stood there for a while, enjoying each other’s embrace. Not wanting the night to end just yet, “Do you want to come in for some tea? I have no idea if that’s your thing, but my mom just sent me this amazing new one from Chicago if you want to try it.” What were you even doing? Who invites anyone in for tea at 12:30 in the morning? This isn’t England. Yet here you were, inviting the man you’d been resisting into your home and your heart.
“I’d love to,” he responded simply before taking his hand in yours as you finished the journey to your house. Your hands shaking in anticipation as you unlocked your front door.
Once inside you pointed out a few things you’d done during the renovations, he was quickly interested in the built-in bookcases in your Livingroom. Going to give them a closer inspection, you slipped away to turn on the kettle and prepare the tea. You were only gone for a minute or two, returning to the room as you waited for the water to heat up. As you rounded the corner you noticed Rooster inspecting your record collection.
“Taylor Swift fan I see,” he smirked as he picked up one of her records and put in on the player.
“Didn’t the shirt give that away?” you gestured to the concert t-shirt you’d been wearing the whole evening.
“Well if you want to be obvious about it,” he shrugged simply. Taylor Swift’s ‘This Love’ started playing as he got the record player set up. He shook his head as he crossed the room, stopping in front of you, gazing into your eyes before wrapping his arms around your waist and spinning you around. “I was too focused on those gorgeous eyes and your beaming smile to notice,” he whispered in your ear as the two of you swayed back and forth.
Oh, he was smooth, you smiled before melting into his arms. Finally after all this time, giving yourself over to him. The two of you stayed this way for a long while, the kettle squealing and silencing in the distant background as you danced around the room. Many songs passed before you got the sudden urge to lean back in his arms and press your lips to his. Normally you wouldn’t be so bold, but something felt different as you smiled and leaned into his touch. He squeezed your waist, pulling you closer as his lips danced with yours. In that moment, Phoenix’s words made perfect sense, Bradley Bradshaw was different from all the other aviators out there.
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kringletheelf04 · 1 year
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Dad is late and Laura wants to make my life hell (chapter 1)
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Ever since I could remember I've had the name Bernard practically engraved onto my wrist. Elegant strokes had seemed to dance joyfully across my skin, silver glittery writing that practically glows. I've never met anyone with only a first name. In fact I've never met anyone with a tattoo on them since birth.
Today was Christmas Eve and Laura was dropping Charlie off at me and dads house. Neil, his stepdad, decided to drive them there.
I see them pull into the driveway and open the door wide as Charlie runs to me with open arms. I pick him up and spin around once and set him back down as he giggles. I stand back up and hug Laura .
"I see your father couldn't even be here to greet Charlie. Not that I'm surprised." Laura snarks.
"He just got caught up at work for a little more than he thought. He called me and said he'll be here within the hour." I retort.
Even if she is my step mom she doesn't deserve to be able to talk shit about dad. He's never been the same since their divorce. My mom died when I was around 11. It was on Christmas Day that she died and I've never liked it since. I remember asking Santa to have her survive that year. I had rushed down the stairs hoping to see my mom and dad on the couch, mom checked out from the hospital and all better. Instead I got a dad with glassy eyes and every present I had ever wanted over the years, but no mom. Ever since then I stopped believing in Santa and the whole Christmas shtick. I'm now 22 and work as a baker living in my childhood home with my dad. He could never do it alone and I could never imagine what he would do alone. He's planning to make Christmas dinner so I've already made a reservation for Dennys seeing as it's the only thing open late on Christmas Eve. As I was silently praying that I don't have to spend any more time than necessary with this woman Charlie's voice breaks my concentration on keeping a fake smile on.
"There's not any Christmas lights outside sissy! Can we put some up to surprise dad when he comes home?!" Charlie pleads with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster.
Sighing I nod and kiss his head.
"Sure bud but I'm gonna have to get them from the attic so stay here in the living room until I get back."
He nods his little head and pulls his mom onto the couch where he sits.
I trudge up the stairs to the attic and open the pull latter. All are Christmas decor is still in boxes because dad knows it's a sore subject. But I'd probably kill someone if Charlie asked. So I suffer bringing down the cardboard box labeled *X-MAS LIGHTS*. I make my way back down to the living room and Laura has this annoyed look on her face. As if I'm not fit to watch my brother even though I'm 22. I literally have a successful bakery in downtown Chicago for christs sake!
Charlie notices my presence and runs over to me with the biggest grin he could muster.
"Sissy (y/n)! Let's go decorate the house!" He gently pulls on my sweater sleeve as he guide me out the door. Laura gets up with crossed arms and follows us out.
"So (y/n), you ever get that little idea of yours off the ground? Because if not I'm sure your dad can give you a job scrubbing toilets at his company." Laura asks rather smugly.
Oh how I hate that bitch. I force a smile on my face and turn to her.
"Actually I have a shop in downtown Chicago on Michigan avenue. Thanks for asking Laura!" I rub in her face and get back to lifting Charlie into the air to put the lights on the roof.
"Well how do you afford that. I mean you can't be making that much money off of cookies alone. Are you running a drug ring in the back?" Laura whispers the last bit into my ear as to block Charlie from hearing it.
I bite my lip and take a deep breath before setting Charlie back down and turning to her.
"Charlie it's getting a little cold, why don't you run along inside and I'll be inside in a minute." I smile at him.
"Ok sissy (y/n)!" Charlie skips inside shutting the door behind him.
"How dare you. I've been very cordial seeing as your a massive bitch and all you can say is that I have got to be a drug dealer because I'm making enough money to afford my dream." I snap at her.
Looking dumbfounded she begins sputtering as dad rolls into the driveway.
"Hey guys! Sorry I'm late. Hope I haven't kept you waiting to long!" Dad smiles at us not realizing how tense things just were.
"There's Christmas lights up!
(y/n), I didn't think you wanted them up this year." Dad looks at me confused
"Charlie wanted to surprise you. You know I can't say no to his little face!" I defend myself laughing a bit.
"Your daughter just called me a bitch just so you know Scott." Laura tells dad.
Dad frowns at me "(y/n), now why would do that? All she did was drop Charlie off."
"She said that I was a drug dealer!" I defend myself.
"I did no such thing!" Laura lies.
"(y/n) apologize to your stepmom now!" Dad practically seethes.
"That's bullshit and you know it. She's lying. And she's not even my stepmom anymore!" I turn and go into the house slamming the door behind me.
"Why do you and mom always have to fight?" Charlie surprises me by popping up in front of me.
"We weren't fighting sport. We were singing! But your moms singing kinda sounds like cats fighting. So that's what you heard honey!" I try to reassure him. I don't think he buys it but doesn't ask further.
Dad soon comes inside and Charlie rushes over to him. Dad whisks him into his arms.
"Why are there no presents under the tree?" Charlie asks dad.
"Well Santa has to come yet buddy!" I reassure him.
"Neil and mom said that Santa's not real. Believing is for babies!" Charlie shakes his head.
Of course the fucking did. Can't the kid enjoy anything?
"Well I believe in Santa and I'm not a baby." Dad tells him, hoping to save the spirit. I quickly agree "I agree and I'm not a baby either!"
"Well sport! I'm gonna start on our delicious Christmas turkey!" Dad strides into the kitchen.
"So we have to eat it? Can't we go out to eat sissy (y/n)?" Charlie whisper asks to me.
"Don't worry sport. I already called Dennys and made a reservation for 8." I encourage him.
"But I don't like Dennys!" Charlie cries.
"I know but it's the only thing that's open on Christmas sport!" I disclose to him.
*TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY BURNT TURKEY*
Smoke billows out of the kitchen entrance. It envelopes dad and his extinguisher as he fights the fire. Charlie and I are sitting at the dining table and I give him a knowing look.
"Dad, let's just go to Dennys. I already called them so I know they're open." I call out into the smoke.
Dad steps from the smoke with ash covering him from just about head to toe.
"Yeah. I guess that's okay. I really wanted to make Christmas special for you again but looks like I failed again." He glumly agrees.
"You didn't fail anything. We are here as a family and that's all I could ever want!" I say as my eyes water, somewhat from the smoke and somewhat from the sentiment.
I pick up Charlie and we both hug dad, not caring to get dirty.
"Come on guys! Let's have a Christmas dinner at Dennys. It's an American institution!" Dad scoots is out as we put on our winter coats and scarves.
We load into the car and buckle up. Soon we are at Dennys.
"Are you with Hatsutashi?" The lady with a name tag reading (JUDY) asked us.
Dad starts to open his mouth but I cut him off.
"No actually I made a reservation earlier under Calvin." I inform her.
"Party of three," she begins pulling out the menus, " follow me" she says beckoning us to the right side of the resultant into a booth.
We sit down and dad starts to order egg nog as Charlie sits with a disgusted look on his face.
"We're out." Judy says flatly.
"I guess we will take coffee, decaf though please. And he'll take a chocolate milk please." I tell her.
"We're out."
"Plain milk's fine then!" I tell her and she walks away.
"At least we know they got hot apple pie." Dad tries to lighten the mood.
Judy shouts from somewhere behind the counter "We did".
This is just great!
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thehaemanthus · 9 months
Text
tangled cable car wires (3/3)
It’s still July 23 where I’m at! 
Delighted to present the final chapter of this fic for the ACOTAR Writing Circle, organized by @azrielshadowssing. Had so much fun doing this event, and learned that I can write passable smut on demand if needed (though I think the readers will be the final judge of that). 
Thank you to @thelovelymadone and @bennylavasbuns​ for setting me up for success with your previous chapters! I hope this last chapter is a happy, sweet, sexy, and most of all funny ending because I can’t hear someone is six foot five inches without shaking my fist at the sky at the inconvenience of living next to such a height
Enjoy!
Elain was soaking wet, exhausted, out 50 bucks because she stupidly hopped into a taxi to escape her nemesis, and, oh yeah, really fucking horny.
She dumped her things just inside the door to her apartment, stripping her clothing there too before hustling to the washing machine. The wet pile of clothes landed on top with a splat.
Getting settled at home kept her mind off of other things. Elain had planned to get some take out, watch a movie or two, light a scented candle and maybe even take a bath. Now she had to start a load of laundry, dry off her work bag and pray nothing was too damaged, take a shower, then make her own dinner.
Not a very auspicious start to her coveted staycation, but maybe she could still fit in the bath. And relax. Relaxation only. No errant thoughts about an inconvenient tall, tanned, red-headed menace who apparently liked her—
Nope! No thoughts about his hands on her ass or the way he had felt between her legs. Strictly off limits.
Maybe she would pen in an appointment with her vibrator after a bubble bath. Orgasms were relaxing, right?
Elain eyed her phone, suspiciously silent after texting her sisters. They had nothing productive to say about her momentary lapse in judgment. Elain had needed to tell someone, feeling like it was a secret burning her throat. The cab driver hadn’t been an option, but maybe telling Feyre that her son’s godfather nearly fucked her in an elevator wasn’t the smartest thing.
But what else was she meant to do?
Dressed in a large t-shirt and leggings, Elain twisted her hair up into a bun and wandered into the kitchen. The whirls and hums of the washer filled the apartment, punctuated by the sound of the storm outside. Rain fell steadily, accompanied by the rumble of thunder.
A perusal of her pantry revealed very little. The fridge, even less. Elain had planned to go shopping the next day, spending the morning at the farmer’s market getting all sorts of fresh produce to experiment with. She had a list of recipes to try during her vacation, part of a plan to decide what to cultivate in her own garden.
Oh, everything was going absolutely wrong, and it was all Lucien’s fault! As always!
The loud shriek from her apartment’s buzzer made her jump. No one ever used it. If it was a friend, they sent a text. If it was a delivery, it was left downstairs.
Elain tiptoed to the intercom, pressing the button to speak. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” An awkward cough. Elain suddenly felt very warm. “Um, Lucien.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Can you let me up?”
“Why are you here? How do you know where I live?”
“Elain, I can barely understand you through this thing.” That was true. The system seemed to have been installed when the apartment was built and left alone after that. “Let me up. I have food.”
Oh. In that case. Elain pressed the button to buzz him in for a few seconds. She stood by the door, wondering whether she should open it or wait for his knock. Then she remembered she wasn’t wearing a bra under her shirt and she dashed to her bedroom in search of a sweater.
Lucien’s polite but firm knock came when she was stumbling down the hall, shoving her head through the neck hole. “Just a second!” Elain rightened herself, smoothing down her hair and straightening the sweater before opening the door.
“Hi,” Lucien held up a paper bag with a familiar logo. “I got your favorite.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How do you know what my favorite is?”
“I called in a favor with Feyre,” he said. “Cacio e pepe, bruschetta, butternut squash ravioli, and the house salad?”
Elain crossed her arms. “I don’t like cacio e pepe.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. But it wasn’t her favorite!
“Yeah, well, I do. Let me in?” Lucien raised an eyebrow.
She was tempted. However. “How did you find out where I live? What HR rules did you violate?”
“Elain, I hardly have to violate HR rules when Feyre is one of my best friends,” Lucien sighed. “Now, please, let me in.”
She could grab the food and lock him out. It would serve him right. But she had a feeling in the tussle for the bag, he would win or the food would become a casualty.
Elain stepped aside. “Fine. Kitchen is over there.”
She snuck glances at Lucien as he unpacked the bag and she took out dishes and silverware. His long hair was damp from the rain, but he looked much the same as he had before they parted ways earlier that evening.
“Did you go home at all?”
“No,” Lucien shrugged, taking a seat and helping himself to the food. “I’m starving.”
Elain’s stomach grumbled. Sharing a table with Lucien wasn’t super appealing, but she was hungry too. Reluctantly, she sat across from him at her tiny round four-seater and served herself. It was quiet except for the sound of their eating and the occasional request to pass a dish or a napkin.
She waited for Lucien to say something. He was the one who came over, he must have a reason. If all he wanted was to pick up where they left off, he would’ve spoken before he started dishing out the food.
“Eat, Elain,” he said without looking up.
She scowled. “I am.” Asshole.
“You’re spending more time glaring at me than chewing,” he said. “And you’re going to need energy for what I have planned.”
Elain sputtered. “Excuse me?”
“I want you,” he admitted. His fiery gaze made her squirm. “I also want you happy and able to keep up so—” He waved his fork at her then shoveled more pasta into his mouth.
“I didn’t realize this was a quid pro quo,” she seethed. “Food for sex?”
Lucien flinched a bit, coughing as he choked down his food. “Food for talking. Which I think will lead to sex.”
“Cocky.”
“Elain, your thighs were wrapped about me like two hours ago,” he pointed out. “I want you. You want me. I’m going to feed you, clear the air between us, and then do what I should have done years ago.”
“Which is?”
“Show you how much I care about you.”
Elain sniffed, stabbing her salad. “I see no reason why we can’t eat and talk.”
Despite herself, she was curious. Lucien had been a real menace. He had to be a true idiot not to realize how his actions back then bothered her. Maybe he thought they had a friendly rivalry now, but Elain’s real dislike of him wasn’t just going to go away.
“I told you I liked you,” he started. “And I was stupid about the way I went about it. I must still be a little stupid, because I didn’t realize what I was doing was bothering you that much. All this time, I thought I was making you better, Elain. I wouldn’t give critique to any other colleague that way, but we have a history. You never told me to stop.”
She opened her mouth to argue then had to abruptly shut it. Was he right?
Maybe. Every criticism, every suggestion did actually make her work better. Even if Lucien wasn’t right all the time, he made her think and defend her decisions. He needled her, sure, but she gave it right back.
A mature adult would have told him to stop, would have said she didn’t appreciate his comments or even gone to a supervisor. She didn’t, was never even tempted to.
Elain frowned, taking a bite of her ravioli so she could stall. Finally, she said, “This is how you normally charm people? You bicker with them?”
“No, that seems to be a you-thing.” Lucien leaned back in his chair with a chuckle, rolling his sleeves up. And damn her if those forearms didn’t make her a little hot. If he noticed, Lucien didn’t say anything. “I am sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. And I’m here with dinner and dessert to say that I still like you, Elain. A lot.”
“Dessert?” she asked, as if that was the most important part of the conversation. He brought out a container of tiramisu. Elain hummed in approval, but didn’t say anything else.
What now? An obscenely tall man sat across from her, finishing the dinner he brought her for the chance to confess that he’d like to get in her pants. Okay, and he probably wanted to…what? Date her?
Elain mopped up the remnants of the sage browned butter sauce with a piece of bread, plate clean. “You busy on Saturday?”
“Uh, no,” Lucien said.
“I was planning to see a movie by myself, but I supposed you can tag along.” Elain stood, clearing the dishes from the table. “I’ll buy the tickets, you buy us ice cream after.”
She didn’t think Lucien was that stunned, though she didn’t hear an answer from him as she started loading her dishwasher. Instead, she heard the sound of the fridge opening and closing. Then two very large, very warm hands were on her hips. Elain’s damp hands froze in midair.
“I’d love to see a movie with you Saturday.” His breath stirred the top of her head. Damn, he was too tall. “I’ll take you out for dinner too, someplace where we don’t have to do the dishes.” Lucien’s nose trailed down her neck. “But what about now, Elain?”
“I didn’t get dessert,” she said breathlessly.
“I put it in the fridge.” He kissed her neck and she nearly melted. “Midnight snack. If you aren’t too worn out.”
Elain could never back down from a challenge Lucien put in front of her. She spun, using his body for balance as she popped onto her tiptoes. He leaned down, meeting her halfway in a passionate kiss. Their first encounter had been savage and angry, but this one was just desperate.
Lucien’s hands wandered to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. Elain squeaked into his mouth and retaliated with a nip. His hands traveled a little further down, and this time she didn’t hesitate in gripping his shoulders and jumping.
Face to face with him, Elain grinned. “I could get used to this view.”
“I hope you do.” It was the typical smug answer she would expect from him, but without the mean edge.
Lucien’s little smile was so sexy she had to kiss him again. Her hands combed through his silky hair, enjoying the handfuls that slipped through her fingers. Lucien groaned, stumbling a bit before he placed her on the counter. Once again she was a little shorter than him, but he quickly fixed that by bending to kiss from her jaw down her neck.
“How do you always smell like fucking flowers?” he groaned.
Elain wiggled on the counter, grabbing her sweater and t-shirt and pulling them off at once. Lucien helped her tug the material over her head and the bundle got tossed on the floor.
“Fuck.” Lucien wasted no time in cupping her breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples as he watched her reactions. “I’ve fucking dreamt about your tits.”
Elain laughed breathlessly, head tilted back and heart pounding as each caress sent electricity between her thighs. “You have not.” She kicked him. Gently.
“I’ll tell you all about it.” He practically buried his face in her chest, murmuring against her flesh between kisses. “You can decide what we reenact.”
Any thought of joking flew out the window when he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked, teeth gently biting down. Elain cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as he lifted his head, teeth scraping against her sensitive skin. She dragged his mouth back to hers, opening his mouth to hers. Lucien’s hands went back to her breasts, unable to leave them unattended for even a moment.
“Shirt off,” she gasped, hands clumsily pulling at the material where it was tucked into his pants. Together they wrestled the shirt off, then Elain attacked his belt. Her efforts were thwarted when Lucien tugged her closer, ass nearly hanging off the edge of the counter. Again, she felt his cock against her core, hot and big and all for her.
Lucien lifted her again, walking out of the kitchen. “Bedroom?”
“That way,” Elain pointed while she took her turn in kissing his jaw, eager to taste every inch of that bronze skin. She traced the edge of his ear with her tongue and he nearly ran them into the door frame.
Abruptly, Elain felt herself fall. She landed with a bounce on her bed, staring up at the giant rubbing his cock through his pants as he gazed at her.
“Come here,” she held out her hands.
Lucien took off his pants and boxers, and Elain sat up like a spring. She was never really one to call dicks pretty or anything, but his was too enticing to ignore. One hand gripped the base as her tongue darted out, licking a broad stripe up the underside.
“Fuck!” Lucien cursed. His hand landed on the back of her head, before he snatched it away. “Elain, later.”
“Now.” She glared up at him then resumed her work. She warmed up by licking him, then took the head in her mouth and swirled her tongue. She took Lucien’s hand and put it back on her head, but though it stayed there it was frozen. Lucien’s cock was so thick her mouth burned with the stretch. His cursing and babbled praise punctuated the roaring in her ears.
“Enough, enough, Elain.” Now his hand fisted her hair, tugging to get her off. She released him with a pop and a pout. “Shit, I already know I’m going to embarrass myself and come too soon, you don’t have to make it harder for me.”
“I think you’re plenty hard.” She didn’t get the chance to laugh at her stupid joke before Lucien pushed her back on the bed, kissing her thoroughly. She shivered and moaned at the feeling of so much hot body on hers, the way his muscles rubbed against her soft curves.
Lucien impatiently kissed down her body, dedicating just a bit more time for her breasts. He nibbled on the skin above her waistband before Elain squirmed and started to peel off her leggings herself. They joined the pile of clothes on the floor.
He kneeled on the floor, pulling Elain to the edge of the bed by her hips. Her gasp of surprise turned into a cry of delight when Lucien licked her pussy, no teasing or agonizing build up.
She never understood the true meaning of eating out until that moment. Lucien devoured her, hands digging into her skin to keep her hips down, to keep her cunt accessible to his mouth. She couldn’t close her legs, couldn’t wiggle away from the assault.
“Lucien,” she gasped. “I — oh.”
His response was a groan. That was fine. Why use his tongue for words when it could keep circling her clit, flicking as his lips coaxed every drop of pleasure from her body?
Elain gripped his auburn hair, shivering at the way it brushed against her thighs. Lucien grunted at a particularly rough tug, but he didn’t tell her to stop. She arched against the bed, cries getting louder until Lucien reached up, tweaked her nipple, and she broke.
Practically sobbing through the aftershocks, Elain’s grip on Lucien’s hair loosened as he brought her down with slow licks. With one final shudder, Elain nudged his side with her foot. He rose, wiping his smirking mouth with the back of his hand. The sight made her core clench again.
Elain rolled on the bed, stretching to open the drawer of her nightstand. Behind her she felt Lucien climbing on the bed. He kissed her shoulder. Then he swatted her ass.
“Hey!” Elain abandoned her search for a condom to glare.
“Sorry,” he said, not looking very sorry at all. “Too tempting to resist.”
While he kneaded her ass, Elain rooted through junk until she found condoms. Together, they wasted no time in rolling it on Lucien.
“This okay?” he asked when he found himself hovering over her.
Elain wiggled a bit on her back, smiling as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Perfect.”
He leaned down to kiss her sweetly. “Tell me if I need to go slow or anything.”
“You’re going too slow right now,” she grumbled, pulling his body towards her. “I’m ready.”
Lucien’s eyes on her were intense, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away as he lined himself up and slowly pushed into her. Elain’s eyes fluttered and her breath got caught in her throat. She was entranced by the hard line of his jaw, the way his lips pressed together as he slowly rolled his hips and penetrated deeper and deeper. The stretch was exquisite.
When Elain thought he had no more to give, Lucien proved her wrong. She made a choked sound, throwing her head back.
“Elain?” he grunted.
“Keep going.” She bucked her hips. One of his giant hands held onto her thigh, the other arm supporting his weight as he completed a few more gentle thrusts—and then she knew she had taken all of him.
Elain moaned. “Holy shit.”
“That good, huh?” Lucien’s voice was strained as he moved steadily, head falling.
She didn’t give the smug asshole a verbal answer, choosing instead to grab his face and place a sloppy kiss on his lips. Elain purposefully flexed her inner muscles around him to jerk Lucien out of his controlled movements. It worked. With a groan, his hips snapped against her, rhythm slowly increasing.
“Elain.” He lowered his body more, at her urging. “Fuck, Elain, you…”
She could only respond with her cries of pleasure, arms and legs holding him closer.
With a growl, Lucien reared up. Elain whined, but he ignored her as he knelt and hauled her back on his cock. Her back arched, heels digging into the mattress. In this position he could fuck her with more power. She gripped his wrists where his hands were clamped on her waist, needing something to grip. Lucien’s gaze jumped from where they were joined to where her breasts bounced wildly.
Elain bucked. “Lucien…I need…”
He brought his thumb to her mouth. She sucked, nipping his salty skin before he pulled it out. Lucien rubbed his thumb against her lips, smearing her spit. He looked entranced for a moment before he brought his thumb down to her clit. A few circles, then Elain was flying apart.
She screamed, flying with pleasure until her body went limp. Lucien kept a steady pace until she began to come down, then he moved faster and faster. Head thrown back, biceps flexed with the effort it took to keep her on his cock, Lucien thrust deep one more time before coming with a cry. His hips jerked in a few more powerful thrusts before he released his grip on her.
Elain was undone. Her chest heaved and she was sure she was an unattractive splotchy red. Her tug on Lucien was weak, but he leaned over her without much coaxing. The kisses they shared were sweet and sated, unhurried.
“Lemme get rid of this,” Lucien murmured. Elain hummed, pressing one more kiss to his lips before pulling back. They cleaned up quickly, falling back into back wordlessly.
Well, mostly wordlessly. “Let me know when you want that tiramisu,” Lucien murmured against the back of her head.
Elain giggled. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I can’t convince you to go for round two?” He brushed aside the hair on her neck, brushing his lips from the sensitive skin there down to her shoulder.
“‘M tired,” she sighed. “Tomorrow.”
“Bright and early then,” he said. “Some of us don’t have vacation.”
“Sucks for you.”
He chucked. Elain was almost asleep when he spoke again.
“Elain…”
“What?” she grumbled.
“I don’t want to leave you but…”
That woke her up. Elain rolled onto her back, swiping her hair out of her face. “But?”
“But I do have to work tomorrow and…” He looked very sheepish. “Elain, I don’t fit on your bed.”
She sat up, ready to berate him for being stupid. But the words died in her mouth. Unless he curled up, his feet did hang off the bed. He could perhaps sleep diagonally and fit on her bed, but not when she was in it.
“Never mind,” Lucien said. “I’ll be fine for one night.” He kissed her cheek and lay back down. Elain got up. “Elain?”
“Get dressed.” She pulled a tshirt and then found a backpack, stuffing it with a change of clothes. “You can have your bed and your round two if you make me breakfast in the morning.”
“Are you sure?” He looked much too sexy splayed in her bed, bedsheet just covering his hips but leaving plenty of muscled body for her to peruse.
Oh yeah. She could go for a round two.
“Hurry up.” She bent and threw his pants at him. “And don’t forget my tiramisu.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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