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kookiesjoonies · 4 years

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risk it — jjk | nine.

risk it | nine: one more chance.

a/n: i know this update is kinda late, pls forgive me. xo

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.1k

↠ warnings: angst (duh lol), language

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Jungkook’s hands were gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had begun to turn white. His lips were pursed, brows narrowed, and chest heaving with angry breaths as he drove toward your salon.

He had half a mind to turn around and drive in the opposite direction— to your apartment, where Yoongi was, and pummel him into the ground until he was bruised and bloody from head to toe.

But he wanted to see you more. He wanted to tell you exactly what he thought about you having sex with his ex best friend, and he wanted to know exactly what the two of you had done together.

Ever since Taehyung had sent that fucking picture in the group chat, it was all he could think about. He kept imagining Yoongi’s hands traveling up and down your body, Yoongi’s mouth trailing down your stomach, and every time he’d envision Yoongi fucking you into your mattress all he saw was red.

When he finally pulled into a parking spot outside of the front door, he took a deep breath and ran the palms of his hands down his face in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what was to come.

The sign above the door read Kookie Cutters, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head as memories of the two of you together flooded back in.

He was lying next to you on your shared bed, one hand mindlessly on your breast (as it always seemed to be), while his other hand held the television remote.

You’d been trying to come up with a name for your business all afternoon, and at first, he was eager to help. But after you shot down all fifty of his suggestions, he’d resorted to just nodding and grunting as he let you ramble on.

“I want the name to be something unique, yet personal. Something that nobody else has thought of.”

He nodded his head in agreement, attention more focused on the soccer game in front of him than on your words.

You rolled your eyes, plucking a pillow from behind his head and swatting him with it.

“Hey! I was listening!” He insisted, swatting your attack away with his hands.

“Uh huh, so what did I say?” You lifted a brow, hands on your hips.

He smirked at your newfound attitude, always finding it so adorable and endearing.

“Alright, alright. You caught me.” He admitted, to which you let out an annoyed sounding huff.

“Kook! This is important!” your eyes lit up then, a theoretical lightbulb switching on above your head, “Wait, that’s it! I’ve got the name!”

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Jungkook teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder.

“Kookie Cutters, but… spelled like your name.” You visibly blushed as you told him your suggestion, and he was sure you were the cutest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jungkook inhaled one final deep breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle and opening it up, stepping inside of the decently sized building.

He was immediately greeted with the smell of bleach and hairspray, the sound of gossiping hairdressers and clients buzzing through his ears.

The place had grown impressively since the last time he’d been. You’d obviously hired more help, as well as made several renovations to the store’s overall aesthetic. The walls that used to be the ugliest shade of puke green were now a stylish cool toned grey, and the once tile floors had been replaced with dark rustic hardwood. You’d replaced the cheap light fixtures with spectacular chandeliers, and the waiting area that used to have a sofa and a small tv now housed several chairs and two wall mounted flat screens.

It suited the place, he thought. It suited you.

“You look lost.” A feminine voice pulled him out of his trance, and he turned to face none other than Lee Mina.

He offered her a small shrug, his eyes still looking the place over and attempting to catch sight of anything he might’ve missed.

“Just impressed, is all. Looks a lot different than it did two years ago. Well, I mean, other than the name.”

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?” The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toes on the floor below, exuding annoyance from every single one of her pores.

“I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.” He confessed, looking past her and scanning the other women in the salon— looking for you.

“She’s in her office,” Mina informed, “but I highly doubt she wants to see you.”

“I told her I was on my way here.”

“Awfully bold of you to come into a place filled to the brim with scissors and bleach, don’t you think?” Mina held a bite to her voice that damn near sent shivers down the man’s spine.

Luckily, you finally made an appearance and stood beside your hard headed friend.

“Down, girl,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the waiting area, “you’ve got a client, no time for poisoning my ex boyfriend.”

“Trust me,” she started, shooting a death glare in Jungkook’s direction as she began to walk away, “I can make time.”

Jungkook was sure that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now.

“She doesn’t like me, does she?”

You scoffed, hands on your hips.

“Can you blame her?”

No, he couldn’t.

He sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

You nodded, “Yeah, we can go into my office. Follow me.”

He did as he was told, keeping a safe distance between the two of you as he walked behind you.

“I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.”

You mumbled a thank you as you opened up your wooden office door, stepping aside and gesturing him to go in before you.

Your office was just as impressive as the main space, but Jungkook could tell that you’d taken the time to make this room more personal. Pictures of you and your friends hung on the wall behind where your glass desk was sat, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him to see that there weren’t any pictures of you two. Not that he’d expected there to be.

Apparently, you could see the way that his face seemed to fall at that realization, and you were quickly bumping his hip to turn his attention to the picture frame beside your laptop.

It was a photo of you and Jungkook, around seventeen years old, he guessed. His hair was much shorter, and his skin had a lot less ink— as in, had no ink. Yours was the same way, bare and tattooless. Jungkook was kissing your cheek in the photo, and you were grinning from ear to ear with your metal braces on full display.

He couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it, allowing his fingers to ghost over the picture as he reminisced about the past. You’d become his everything when the two of you were just sixteen, the typical high school sweethearts cliché.

He shared his first kiss with you, and you shared yours with him. It was so bad— teeth clacking and tongues unsure of what to do. But eventually, the two of you figured it out. Together.

Your first time having sex was even worse, because neither of you even managed to cum. Maybe you would’ve, if Jungkook’s mom hadn’t walked in in the middle of it and proceeded to give you the world’s longest speech about how she was too young for grandchildren.

“Did you really think I’d have pictures of everyone else, but leave you out?” You asked, taking a step forward and leaning your back against the desk beside him.

“Guess it shouldn’t shock me,” he shrugged, straightening his posture as he sat on the edge of the desk and allowed one leg to dangle down, “seeing as how I still have a picture of you on my station at the shop.”

“You know,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I was so mad before I came here. Really, my blood was boiling. But as soon as I laid eyes on you—“

“Don’t,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, “just say what you came here to say, Jungkook.

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were staring straight forward at the frames hanging on the wall in front of you. He could see the way they were glossed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment.

He’d made you cry so many times before, and every single time he did he felt like he was dying— like all of the air was being slowly sucked from his lungs.

“Bug, don’t cry,” he stood in front of you instantly, his hands instinctively finding their way onto the sides of your face, “I just wanted to apologize, to tell you that I’m sorry for hurting you.”

You closed your eyes, and to his surprise, leaned into his touch. He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone as a single tear fell down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You keep saying that,” you choked out, fully allowing the sobs to take over your body now, “but you don’t ever make any effort to stop doing it!”

Your body began to shake, and you could no longer hold yourself up. The weight of everything that had happened recently, and in the past, was clearly getting to you. You fell against Jungkook’s chest as you continued to choke out pitiful sobs, and he used his strong arms to hold your body up to keep you from slipping to the ground.

“I c-can’t do this anymore, Kook! I’m so in love with you that I feel it in every inch of my body, but all you seem to want to do is h-hurt me,” you continued to ramble, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose, “and I know you don’t mean to sometimes. But sometimes y-you do! And I just— I miss you, I miss who you used to be. I miss the guy that loved me and treated me right when we were teenagers! I know he’s in there somewhere, so either dig deep and f-find him or stay the f-fuck out of my life because I—“

The sound of Jungkook’s own sobbing cut you off. He’d begun stroking your hair with his hand as he let you get everything out, but it wrecked him to know he was making you feel this way.

“I’ll try and be better, I swear to God I will. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted, and I am so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. You deserve so much better than me,” he lifted your chin with his fingers so that his sad eyes could meet your own, “but if you’ll give me one more chance… I swear I’ll be the man that you need me to be.”

He could tell that the gears of your mind were working in overdrive, weighing out the pros and cons of putting your trust in him again. He hoped with every fiber of his being that you would, because come hell or high water, he was going to prove to you that he was worth your love again.

You lifted your hands up to meet his face, wiping his tears from his cheeks and tucking his long strands of hair behind his ears.

“Okay. One more chance.”

The sigh of relief that Jungkook breathed out could no doubt be heard from the other side of the world. He nodded once, taking in the fact that you’d actually agreed to have him in your life full time again, even on a trial basis.

His forehead leaned against your own as he pulled you tighter against him, giving your body with the tightest embrace— scared that at any moment, you’d change your mind and run in the opposite direction.

“I promise you won’t regret this, bug. I mean it, I—“

Jungkook was cut off by Mina swinging open the door to your office and announcing your presence with her seemingly always excited, high pitched voice.

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just— uhm,” she was stammering awkwardly, and speaking way too quickly, “Yn, you uhm… have a client. She’s waiting for you.”

You gave her a quick nod, letting her know that you’d be out in just a minute as you wiped at the mascara running under your eyes.

“Call me later?” you asked, finally breaking away from your ex lover’s hold, “We have a lot more to talk about.”

“Sure thing.”

As you turned to exit the room, you stood up on the tips of your toes and placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before allowing your lips to peck a kiss to his cheek.

“Get home safe, Kook.”

⇠ masterlist ⇢

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

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Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader(A/n- I’ve been meaning to post this since last week, but I’m lazy.)

Summary Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Warnings- Angst

Chapter 13- Hold Me Without Hurting Me

The pack had started warming in his hands, and eventually, Keanu couldn't bring himself to do much more than toss it back to the table and listlessly drag himself back to his trailer, which neighbored Y/n’s. Standing outside, between both metal contraptions; his on the right and hers on the left, he contemplated knocking on Y/n’s instead. He didn’t like the way their earlier interaction had ended; with her in tears, storming out and essentially ending their relationship.

It was his fault, he’d pushed her.

Keanu had almost made the trek up the steps, almost knocked on the door, almost begged her to take him back. He’d almost done a lot of things, like let himself fall. But alas, for everything he’d almost done, there were a dozen more that he'd done wrong and in the end, he’d just slunk back into the cold cocoon of his own trailer, flopping onto the sofa, groaning as he threw his head back. It hurt though the insistent throbbing, the slight pull of his stitches and heaviness over his left eye felt like nothing compared the new hollowness in his chest.

Truthfully, Keanu hadn't meant for things to go the way they had, it was never his intention to have her leave for good. But it was so foreign to him; it had been a while since he'd been with a woman who'd looked at him the way Y/n had, who's touch alone was enough to remedy physical pain. Who could make his lips tremble but slow his anxious heart at the same time. She was different in other ways too; usually, the girls he dated were willing to go with whatever he wanted, anything just to keep him interested. Sometimes, though more times than he preferred to admit, Keanu would find himself realizing that a woman only adored him for what he was, rather than who he was. But Y/n…….Y/n actually cared. Y/n loved him.

Even if he’d given her a million reasons not to.

Love.

The word made an unwarranted panic rise up in Keanu’s chest. He wasn’t sure if he felt that way, when you feel it, you should know right? But Keanu didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted her back, unashamedly and quite selfishly, even if he wasn’t sure what his feelings were. Maybe they could patch things up with an emotional band aid, just enough so he could have her, though without letting himself get too submerged. Keanu wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment anyway. He wasn’t the type.

At least, that was what he’d told himself. Convinced himself.

But he was lying to himself. Keanu was always lying to himself

Maybe he really should make things right, heedlessly hold on until he could sort himself out, until he could find a way to to shift things, so if they ever did walk away, he could leave unscathed. Control. That was what he wanted, control. Control over their feelings, over the way everyone saw them, over the way he saw himself.

Control, he would find it.

Production had been halted for the rest of the evening, and by extension, the two days following Keanu’s accident, hopefully giving him enough time to grasp his bearings. It was without warning, though Y/n understood the circumstances and was immensely grateful for the down time, hoping that she too could manage to pull herself together before they’d face each other again.

Nearly a day had passed, going on twenty four whole hours since she’d left Keanu sitting on a plastic chair in an air conditioned trailer that smelt like Hydrogen-Peroxide and disinfectant, tossing a beady ice pack to his chest, earning herself nothing more than a surprised ‘omph’ in the process. Since then, she’d fluttered through a range of emotions; anger at his reluctance, gnawing sorrow because he couldn��t return her love and finally, frustration when Keanu hadn’t made the slightest effort to swing by her room and pretend to be sorry.

All she wanted was to get him back, so she could put aside the doubt, at least for a while. Y/n didn’t like the feeling that came with his absence, and even if being with him felt like she was sinking slowly, drowning in a whirlpool resulting from her own devices, being without Keanu felt like she was being pulled under ice cold water, suddenly and without the strength to swim herself to recovery.

By then her bed had become a haven, one that still held his scent, even if the sheets had been changed. Perhaps it was just her imagination. Y/n had spent far too much time there since she’d returned to the hotel, only ever leaving for lengthy showers or to get food. Not much else seemed appealing anyway and the rest of the hotel would just remind her of everything that she’d poured into Keanu. She ruined things with a good man for him, almost dismantled her relationship with her father for him, sacrificed half her sanity, just for him. And still, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough.

Maybe nothing would be enough for him.

Yet, Y/n still clutched hope close to her chest; Keanu would knock on her door, tell her he was sorry and ask her to take him back. She’d do it in a heartbeat too, even if she was almost sure that he’d be lying. Believing his lies; it had already become her norm anyway. There was a toxicity that came with loving him, and Y/n could readily recognize it; you shouldn't have to swallow up lies when affections ran as deep as hers, you shouldn’t cry yourself to sleep or have to convince yourself that they care either. But she’d done it, and in the name of hope, she’d keep doing it, until she couldn’t any longer.

A fretful huff left her chapped lips and shoving the sheets away, Y/n aimlessly hoped that running her hands through her tangled hair would do something to dismiss the thoughts of Keanu; as much as she loved him, she really did want to stop thinking of him. It wasn’t like she could do much about their break up anyway, she’d broken up with him and he hadn’t really done much to stop it.

As she sat up, Y/n surveyed the room, dimmed by the incoming evening, merely the silhouettes of furniture remaining visible in the hazy room. The air conditioner ran on high, offering a chill to combat the thick, comfortable layers she’d sought refuge in and the remote to the television mounted to the wall remained her only companion. Her phone was somewhere around too, probably hidden away beneath the room service menu on the nightstand, Y/n could hear it buzzing every once in a while, but couldn't summon up the will to pick it up. She’d get back to whoever it was, at some point.

For a solid minute, she just sat there, immersed in the sea of fabric, wondering if she’d be spending the night the same way she’d wasted the day; sulking in between wine induced naps. Though, three brisk knocks on the front door interrupted her muddy thoughts, causing Y/n to groan as she tumbled out of the bed. On her way to the door, she finished a glass of red that had been sitting beneath her unlit lamp and once again ran her fingers through her hair, that time to vanquish any traces of telling bed head.

With a strained sigh, Y/n took the knob in her hand, pulling the door open, ready to tell whoever it was that she was busy. But at the sight of the offender, the words didn’t come, stifled by the hope pluming in her chest, “You’re…... “ With glassy eyes and quivering lips, Y/n tried to seem as cool as possible, though she knew the over sized sweatshirt and loose booty shorts, along with the redness in her eyes and flush in her cheeks would be a dead give away.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed sadly when Keanu found that Y/n probably wasn’t going to say much more. His lips were set in a deep frown and the bandage protecting his sutures had been recently changed and switched out for a smaller one. Keanu's hair looked almost as frazzled as Y/n's and she wondered if he'd been nervous about going to see her. "I never meant to hurt you," he carried on softly, exhaling as he shoved his fists into the pockets of worn jeans, "I just-"

Despite her mind's protest, a nagging thought reminding Y/n that she was making it too easy, she held the door open a bit wider, the fondness in her heart growing at just the thought of Keanu wanting her back, "Why don't you come in?"

He seemed stunned at first, eyes widening with confusion and jaw going slack, but eventually gave in and Keanu knew that it would be a lie if he wasn't secretly hoping that things could be that easy, "Okay," he nodded wearily, "Thanks."

Now standing in the living room, the orange glow from the setting sun washing the room through the glass balcony doors, casting a burnt hue on the furniture and floors, Y/n thought that the atmosphere felt choked and a little clumsy. She couldn’t tell if Keanu was being genuine or not, but she did know that she was going to believe him, just so things could go back to being okay for a while. He stood about a foot away, shoulders hung and head down cast, directed to their feet, still though, she had to look up at him, not meeting his gaze, but desperately searching for some truth in his expression. “What I said yesterday,” Keanu swallowed thickly, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean it when I said that you were smothering me, I just wasn’t expecting you to care that much.”

“I’ve always cared that much,” Y/n turned her face away, not wanting Keanu to see her feelings, he’d already hurt them so much. Her fingers toyed with the cuffs of her grey sweatshirt as she awaited more, eventually trying to propel it with; “Is that what you came here to say?”

“Yeah,” he sighed heavily, removing a hand from his pocket to run it through his tousled hair, scrubbing his nails through his salt and pepper beard before letting it fall haplessly to his side again, “And to ask you for a second chance. I want us to work on this,” finally, he looked at her, and Y/n let their gazes meet. She searched his eyes, only finding turmoil and swirling confusion there. It was nothing like what she offered him; love, admiration and adoration.

Maybe she could find it there though, one day.

“I……” Don’t do it, he doesn’t care as much as you do. Don’t do it, he doesn’t care at all. Nothing’s gonna change, don’t do it! But Y/n didn’t listen, logic was a dry pill that was too hard to swallow she wasn’t willing to believe that Keanu would hurt her again, even though she knew it was the truth. They had so much to work out before they could even think about being together, they were hurt people, who in the end, would inevitably hurt people, but Y/n didn’t care. She never did. She wanted what they had when he made her laugh, when he touched her and sparked life in shadowy depths of her soul.

She was selfish enough to want him, despite their brokenness.

“I want that too,” Y/n eventually nodded, dragging herself towards Keanu, thoughtlessly letting herself sink into his sullen embrace. His arms, circling her waist, felt warm, though not in the way she’d expected to. Instead, it was like being enveloped in hot, empty air. It was just a gesture, nothing more than the act. That was in actuality, but in her head, she could feel what he poured into it, convinced herself that this was what he wanted, that things were going to work this time.

But unless they learned to grow up, stitch themselves back together, they wouldn’t.

But she could hope. Hope that one day, there would be more than emptiness. Hope that at some point he’d change his mind and fall in love with her.

Y/n could always hope

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @paanchu786 @thesadvampire @fanficsrusz @fickensteinn @ladyreapermc @babygirltaina @septimaseverina @snatchedbylele @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #john wick x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #john wick fanfic #fanfic #ff #keanu reeves fanfiction #john wick #put me in a movie #lana del rey #series #chapter 13 #angst #fanfiction

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girlpornparadise · 4 years

Text

The Caged Bird Moans (pt 4)

Pairing: Diego Jimenez/f!Reader (Power - Starz)

Word Count: ~1300

Warnings: It's a bit Stockholm syndromey, but that's not a real thing anyway (look it up). Not exactly non-con, but it skirts the idea, so if power disparities aren't your jam, please move along. It just real dirty. SMUT!

Personal ramble: Would anyone actually react like this to the situation I've set forth? No. But just as the pizza guy is never hot and doesn't offer you his extra sausage, this is porn people! So suspend your disbelief and don't hate on me for my bullsh*t.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

You wake the next morning exhausted, satisfied, confused and conflicted.

The bed next to you is empty and you reach over to see if it's still warm. It's not, and you don't know what you'd expected. A busy man like him obviously can't afford to sleep in with so much business to attend to. Including the business of your return you suppose.

You pick up your routine of starting the day off with a shower. When you get out, you go to the bag of clothes to pick out something to wear, but you find it's gone. You do a cursory search of the room and can't find it when you notice a black silk blend men's dress shirt on the dresser. It's the only item of clothing in the room, so you put it on, carefully buttoning it to the top. It's only after you get "dressed" that you notice the door is slightly ajar. You peak out nervously and the door creaks a little, startling you. There's no one there.

"Come out little bird." You hear that strong, no nonsense voice echo through the expansive penthouse.

You practically tiptoe out of the room, heart racing just in case you misunderstood what was happening, afraid you'd be tossed back into your cage. But you make it out to the expansive living area to see Diego sitting on the couch, coffee and breakfast in front of him. You dimly register that there's a second coffee and breakfast beside it and you cock your head confused. There's no one else around.

"There's my good girl." He says, rubbing a napkin over his mouth, pulling it downwards over his greying beard.

"You're finally awake. I guess I gave you quite a workout last night." He smirks with pride.

"You certainly did." You're about to say, but swallow the words instead.

He smiles that charming smile with the confidence that masks his cruelty, his boyish dimples betraying the predator underneath. For a moment you had forgotten he was your captor, capable of atrocities you dare not imagine.

"Unbutton the top three buttons of my shirt, you look like a nun." He says. A pantsless nun you muse to yourself as you expose your cleavage.

He pats the sofa next to him. "Come, have breakfast with me." Though it sounds like a suggestion you remember that you have no say in the matter.

You pad barefoot and bare bottomed over to the couch and take your place next to him. You eye him carefully for a moment, wary that it's some kind of trap.

He turns to you and rips a piece of croissant into his mouth with a little extra force for your benefit. His eyes are laughing at the way your breathing wavers.

"You're scared of me, and you should be." He says as he swallows the bite. "But I won't harm you, you're my girl now." He says with a sense of ownership. He reaches over and grabs your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I promise."

You believe him. He does nothing to hide his lavish tastes, his illegal activities, his willingness to take a life, or even his own body. There's an openness about him. What you see is what you get.

"Ok Diego, I believe you." You say softly.

"Good." He says, satisfied with your answer. He turns to face the wall opposite the couch and picks the remote up off the coffee table. He turns on the massive wall mounted television and after a couple of minutes unexpectedly settles on the news.

You're reminded that there's an entire world outside, but find yourself disinterested in it. You realize you're an addict now, not of his plentiful product, but of the man who controls its flow.

"You're breakfast is getting cold." He says with a nod of his chin.

You're broken from your thoughts, and you tuck into the meal before you.

You both eat in silence, letting the tv fill the room with noise and when you finish you relax back into the couch. As he wipes his face and downs the last dregs of his coffee he turns to you. His eyes are still hungry and you are clearly dessert.

Oh.

"If you're gonna be my girl, you have to give yourself to me, morning, noon, and night." His eyes are lidded as he says it.

Oh.

You're in trouble again.

"Yes Diego. For you, anything."

A small voice in the back of your head screams "What are you doing?!" "Anything!?" But it is silenced by his soft lips, and gruff facial hair sweeping your face. You sigh.

He pulls back to look into your eyes, knowing full well he is your master now. You weave your hands into the hair at the base of his neck and he crashes his kiss onto your lips.

As his hands explore your body you reciprocate and each muscle you touch that meets your hands with firmness makes you a little wetter between your thighs.

You go to straddle him. But he pushes you away.

"No." He says firmly. "I'm going to take you from behind."

Your mouth opens at the demand and he grabs your hips. He turns you around so you're facing away from him, lengthwise on the couch. You put your elbows on the cushion and arch your back to present your naked ass to his needy erection. He frees it from his jeans and boxers quickly and with force. He peels the black shirt over his head and throws it aside. He kneels down on the couch behind you, then he grabs your hips and pulls them to line up with his.

"Please Diego, please." You beg. And he slides his cock into you. You feel every turgid inch fill you with warmth and he hits even deeper within you than the night before.

He slams into you and you hear the wet slapping against your juicy folds. As he finds his rhythm you moan at each hit. He slaps your ass twice and each time he does, you tighten around him.

The elevator dings and you hear someone get off. You're startled, and you clench, being caught in the act. Debasing yourself for this beast that rides you.

"Don't you dare stop." He commands through clenched teeth.

He clearly loves an audience and you're so wrapped up in the pleasure that you don't even mind.

As he hits that glowing spot inside of you again and again, your legs begin to falter. He grips your hips even tighter and thrusts even faster.

You close around him as his cock demands your orgasm. It shreds through you and you bury your head below you and muffle a scream into the cushion.

He wraps his strong hand around your hair, grabs it as a ponytail and yanks your head back. "I want to hear what I'm doing to you." He growls, not missing a beat.

You scream again as he hits the same spot and sends searing lightning through your nerves.

You feel him lean forward mashing his hands into your hips. Squeezing you like he wants to extract all of your juices.

He cums loud and hard and you revel in what you've done to him. He pulls back out of you and you shudder at his loss.

You collapse on the couch on your side, facing the open room, shirt still on but wrinkled and askew. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Diego get dressed and address the man who got off the elevator.

You don't really hear what is said, but you take it as your cue to clear out. You return to your room on wobbly legs and decide a nap is in order.

#maurice compte #diego jimenez #starz power #fic #smut #moar diego #moar growly murder panther

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savinscripts · 6 years

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Robb lives in a metropolitan loft in the heart of the city, London is an amalgamation of modern and classic styles and this suits him just fine. The homes backdrop has an industrial style vibe, tying in with the character of an industrially developed city. Surface mounted wiring and ventilation are exposed with intention. Concrete walls and metal framed furniture continue the theme but this is where an altogether more comfortable style dimension can be found. Furnishings, whilst of a linear contemporary style, are also sumptuous and warm in appearance. The flooring is warm natural wood, softened with a deep pile rug in the living area. Lighting is sculptural yet twinkling. The result, an edgy yet welcoming space.

Marble floor tiles are a splash of luxury in the entryway. This is juxtaposed by a run of open wiring descending from the ceiling to a hefty control panel.

Warm colours used in the lounge instantly give the apartment an inviting atmosphere. An open plan loft layout can occasionally strike a cold chord, from concrete slabs and hard metal edges, however this one has a strong homey feel. Slate grey walls add darkness and depth behind pale coloured furniture but the room is bathed in natural light from large dual aspect windows. The L-shaped modern sofa hugs the lounge area and separates the living room from the dining area beyond. A module has been clad in wood, contrasting the surrounding grey walls. Tan throw cushions on the sofa tie in with the hue of the wood tone in the scheme. The wall around the television holds an installation of symmetrical shelving, mounted on metal framework. Above the utilitarian installation can be seen ducting running the width of the room, where less industrial style homes might implement a length of decorative covering. The shelving display has been laced with indoor plants, tumbling from different levels like little waterfalls. The natural vista strikes a delicate note against the hard industrial surroundings.

Two dining room pendant lights act as a focal point over the eating area. They are highly contemporary in appearance yet evoke a feeling of twinkling candlelight, perfect for dinner parties stretching long into the evening. More planters adorn the kitchen area, this time decorating the extraction unit. The extractor is lit around its perimeter with an LED strip, shedding light over the breakfast bar and wine glasses. The kitchen itself is white and minimalist, unchanging except for a single exposed wooden drawer unit.

Behind a door we find a sophisticated home office space. Here, all of the walls have wood panelling. A bank of white shelving with built-in LED strip lighting fills the wall opposite the desk. A library of reference books and a tall statement statue populate the gaps. Coupled with more hanging plants the grouping begins to take on an air of ancient Greece, quite fitting for a place of study and for pursuit of knowledge.

One wall holds a print of intricate wall carvings, perfect for the library/museum feel of the room. The large window gives view to the sprawling metropolis; the crystal clear glass desk allows all of the light and view to shine through. The stylish desk chair appears to sit by an entirely floating desktop at first glance, as the glass table legs are almost invisible. A second chair provides a place for a colleague or client to be seated, or is an opportunity to pause and enjoy the open fire for a moment.

Concrete accent walls continue in the bedroom and are teamed with an expanse of wooden wall paneling. The man-made rock with the smooth natural wood makes a harmonious combination. Orb bedroom pendant lights decorate the foreground of the wooden section whilst the concrete remains stark. The complementary tan hue seen elsewhere in the loft apartment can be found here too in the finish of the modern headboard. The hanging planters found around this home continue into the bedroom also, this time suspended above a bedside unit.

#hc #reference

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dearest-alexander · 6 years

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You Are The Reason Chapter III (Tom Holland x Reader fanfiction)

Summary: "I could be anything in the world, yet I wanted to be yours. But you don’t love me yet…or do you?“ The whole world thought you’re together but something’s stopping you, something’s stopping him.

Summary Chapter: Volunteering for a good cause had never been this rewarding and humbling yet..

YOUR POV

I’ve been friends with Gabrielle ever since I could remember. My early childhood pictures were not complete without her in it . She was also with me during the funeral of my grandfather. I remember how her small chubby hands tightly meshed with mine as they lower down his coffin. Even at such a young age, she was intuitive, benevolent and selfless. Whenever I fell down and scratched my knee, she will rub my back to soothe me until our moms came hand in hand with the first aid kit. Those were the very reasons I knew why she’s gonna be a brilliant doctor. We remained in contact even after I migrated to London with my parents..

WhenI got my big break for a movie project, we celebrated together all night, just the two of us, drinking red wine straight from the bottle on her rented spacious one-bedroom studio. When I mentioned to her that I’ll be coming in the States from time to time to fulfill a handful of job offers, she was over the moon, and so am I. She drove me on my US auditions, lingered in the waiting room until I was finished for day . That’s where she met Harrison and Tom who I’ve been friends with already.

Living alone in an almost foreign soil, even just for a few months, made me miss my England even more. Hotel rooms weren’t envisaging homeliness. Back then, Gabby’s still living an hour away from me, a moderate distance from where she’s finishing her studies. After 6 months however, she was designated here in the city for her residency. I begged her to stay with me since we’re practically in each other’s presence whenever none of us were occupied. She happily settled on the spare ample space beneath my bedroom and was in charge when I’ll be flying back home to St. James’

When I earned enough money for a semi-permanent place here in LA, we roamed the city by ourselves. The need to prove myself that I could do one adult thing in my life simmered intently on my bones. I good-heartedly declined offers, no special treatments from anyone on my team which they respected . She, who without doubt, the more “grown up” one between the two of us, would take a step in front of me whenever she felt like agents, realtors and sellers were being greedy and pushy.. I was gullible to such sly advancements, therefore on the third day, Gabby insisted that I should just let her negotiate since she knew how Americans think nowadays and I’m basically an alien. Therefore, under the blistering Californian sun, Gabby and I wandered and ended up on an empty yet maintained and recently sold loft in this part of the city.

The apartment’s high ceiling drew the illusion of expansiveness. Her mom being an owner of an Interior Design firm in San Diego, arranged the place to complement our boho chic and industrial design preference. The kitchen, with its wooden paneled cabinets and marble countertop contrasted with the interior’s black hardwood floors. The 360view of the city windows allowed natural light to seep through the crack in the grey curtains and when the night time comes, we could properly see the vibrant spectacles of the city. The formerly study area was converted as Gabby’s room and the loft bedroom with black-framed floor to ceiling glass walls remained as my room. The stark white and soundproof walls proved to be more useful especially to the foul noises coming from the living room.

“Die, Die! Die! You bastard!” I stood up, shouted aggressively as I pressed my fingers harder on the console with obvious determination.

“Ohh! Such profanity! You kiss your mum with that mouth?” Tom retorted back below me, his ambidextrous fingers made hurried clicking noises with his as well. He’s leaning his elbows on his denim-covered knees, both of us transfixed on the television and the joysticks in between our resolute hands.

“Oh, piss off!” I responded pointedly, resuming my seat beside him.

It’s not unusual for Tom and Harrison to be here early in the morning. Our days wasted away like this every single time we’re not working. They’ll show up a minute after 8 am and sometimes with a sprightly Tessa. On a number of circumstances, when either men are too exhausted and drowsy to drive we just let them crash in the couch. Tom at least. Below him would be Tessa on the extra dog bed I purchased just for her. Most times, my dog betrayed me and joined them downstairs, not wanting to part with his playmates.

Therefore, on this humid Sunday morning, two weeks since the awards night, we’re indulging in a video game he just bought, a game we’ve both been dying to get. I lost track of the time after Tom’s second win. I don’t usually mind losing, but with him, it’s a whole different story.

Unbeknownst to the unlocking sound of the entrance door, we sat on the edge of our seats occasionally throwing in congenial insults to each other, someone entered the premise. An ineffable thing you learn when you live with someone, you can actually tell when they arrived by the sound of their footsteps or by the sound of their sighs when they breathe. A set of keys jangled into the plate that says “Keys” on the foyer table. Both our dogs, who were resting underneath the coffee table at the center of the room, rushed to the door. Four greeting barks.

Gabby entered with both her hands bearing two brown grocery bags and lightly slammed the door with her foot. I couldn’t see her but that’s what I was imagining her doing.

“Hey guys!” we could hear her shout breathily from the kitchen. “Hey doggos! You want cookies?”

Tom and I answered with an absentminded “Hey!” Our laser focused attention not wavering off from the game.

“There’s a minor collision five streets away, that’s why we took a little longer than usual.” I heard her opened the jar of cookies for the dogs then cans and bags of chips hit the marbled countertop of our kitchen.

“Uh-huh.” I said lazily, biting my lip as I try to come up with a strategy to my game.

“Where’s Harrison?” Tom slightly turned his body towards her voice, his eyes remained in front. Her response drifted off as I saw Tom’s team finally found my troop’s headquarters, guns and bombs on hand.

“Why do you make it so easy? Might as well give me that 50 right now.” I could hear the complacence in his voice. He slanted his body as he stirred his avatar’s car to the left and get out of it.

“You wish, Holland.”

“.... Speaking of which, you guys better be rea........ oh cmon!” Gabby continued. I heard the soft patters of her socked feet against the unblemished hardwood floors to where Tom and I were currently and comfortably lounging. A bowl of half-finished dry cheerios and four empty cans of juice on the wooden coffee table. The dogs had resumed their last position all the while staring at Gabby, waiting for another set of cookies.

“Really? For four hours now?” she breathed incredulously. Her arms folded impatiently on her chest. I could feel the deathly glares on the back of our heads, I can’t risk confirming it by looking back. Tom’s avatar was circling back around the curb, right where I want him. I pressed a few buttons as I choose my killing weapon.

“You even haven’t taken a bath yet!!!” Her remark barely passing my ears as I quickly press the buttons of the joystick. She rounded from our backs to get a good look at our impaled positions on the sofa... or for us to take her disapproving annoyance.

“ I already did! Leave me alone!” Tom sounded like a teenager scolded by his mom for not cleaning his room. He was dressed effortlessly in his plain black shirt, jeans and his dark sneakers by the door, the curls on his head untamed.

“I’m not talking to you, idiot.” I could feel the penetrating and accusatory daggers she’s sending my way..

“C’mon guys, the program is in--- she glanced down at her watch—two hours. We have to drive there for an hour. Who knows if it’s gonna be totally jammed right now.” She demanded and stood by the accent chairs on our right side. Gabby doesn’t like being late.

As a favour to Harrison, Tom and I had agreed to join both of them in Gabby’s hospitals’ feeding program, where she is currently a third year resident. Although her hospital’s a few blocks from here, the program will take place on the outskirts of the city, right where impoverished US citizens are deprived. They needed extra pairs of volunteering hands as it was said to be a big annual event. Harrison popped the question while we’re all having dinner, because, even through the years of our friendship, he and Gabby were reluctant to take advantage of their status with that being close friends with Tom and I. They never asked us for help with anything hence, Tom and I were absolutely delighted to oblige.

“5 minutes, Gabs.” I promised half- heartedly, getting excited to rub my brewing win to Tom’s smug face. “Besides I could get ready in like... ten minutes.” I confidently reasoned back, still not looking her way. She exhaled and strode in front of us, blocking our view from the television mounted on the wall, her diminutive hands on her hips. Tom and I moved our heads synchronously on either side of her to watch the penultimate team battle with which we’re both engaged in.

“Look, thank you so much for doing this thing with me, and I love you both even more for it, but you’ve been playing since this morning.” She’s eyeing me heavily. Gabby did sound reasonable. As always. I hate it sometimes.

Tom’s persistent hands on his console receded, letting Gabby’s words sink in. His attention affected from Gabby’s reason. With a gruff, “Tell me again, why am I going.” We stretched our necks, trying to find a better angle from Gabby’s impeding and unwavering authoritative stance in front.

“....Because you’re a good human being and you’re eternally grateful for Gabby’s existence and her relationship with your best mate that ended all those gay rumours a few years ago?” I stated in monotonous voice.

“On point.” Without taking our eyes off of the screen and for a second of truce, he raised his right hand to give me a high five, I struck it with my left.

We heard another commotion by the door and the dogs, once again, addressed the newcomer.

“Don’t tell me you idiots are still playing, we have to leave in 15 minutes! And it’s been two hours since we left!” Harrison reprimanded softly and stopped at the back of the couch.. He then leaned his elbows on the cushion behind and in between Tom and I. He too, tries to get a decent view of the LCD.

“So..who’s winning?” he excitedly added. If Gabby is the austere mom, Harrison is the fun dad, whereas Tom and I are the juvenile delinquents. I smiled despite myself, inching my way to the right end of the sofa, Tom doing the same thing on his left.

“Harrison!” Gabby all but shrieked at Harrison who chuckled.

“Right, right. Sorry babe.” He cleared his throat and I saw Gabby nod before Harrison walked out of the room. Or so I thought.

“I’m coming for you Holla---hey! Hey! What are you doing!”

In a flush of movements, Harrison’s tall stature was in front of me, his forearms going under my leggings as he hauled me over his right shoulder like a sack of flour. Earning an adamant and incredulous protest from me.I saw Tom’s right hand halted on his controller, his hands splayed out for a second of discombobulation as to why his opponent’s avatar suddenly stopped firing in the middle of the game, and then he noticed the hilarity of my position on his bestfriend’s shoulder. Instantly, he grabbed his phone on the carpeted floor of the living room, joystick laid on the table.

“Hey! Put me down jerk!! Harrison! Put me down this instant!” I ejaculated, pouncing on his broad back in futile attempts. He walked over and gave a peck to a smiling and proud Gabby. ‘Thanks babe.”

I groaned. “Tom! Help me!” Harrison gripped my shins together to stop me from squirming. I cried out from my mortifying situation to Tom who completely abandoned the game I was wining. He positioned himself into a more comfortable way on the sofa, one of his foot under thigh and in both of his hands, his camera phone shook with laughter. My dog stood, confused and followed Harrison’s shoulder. He placed his two front paws on Harrison’s back, making sure I wasn’t in trouble of any kind then back down on all fours again. Gabby stepped behind him, giving my dog a loving pat on the head.

The phone on Tom’s hand followed our movements as Harrison started to move away to literally drag my ass up to, I presume, Gabby and mine’s shared bathroom across to the kitchen.

“Sorry mate, he’s a.. um... a bit tall!” his hand tried to hold his phone while he continues to howl and shake in laughter. I slumped and pressed down my reddening face on Harrison’s back, defeated.

“This is absurd, you’re dead Harrison! You all are! I’m gonna kick you once I’m down from here. “ I looked up from Harrison’s Latissimus Dorsi to threaten Tom and Gabby who were now practically skipping very much alike Snow White’s seven dwarves.

“Oh, wow, you really can be feisty. A few more minutes into that game and you’ll be saying the F word. “ I felt Harrison’s amused laugh from behind his nape which I’m currently glaring at.

“Told yah!” Tom interjected, chuckling before putting down his phone and barging in the kitchen.

Harrison dropped me with ease outside the bathroom door. He gave me an apologizing yet humorous smirk. I scowled at him.

“Hey! I’m just doing what she told me to!” He argued, his palms in mock surrender.

“Nah, you’re just a sap when it comes to my bestfriend. “ I replied with a chuckle as He took two steps into the open kitchen to resume helping Gabby who was already unpacking the rest of the items on our countertop, her back to us.

“And proud to be......not very unlike yourself. “He jokingly winked back at me, the last part barely a whisper. His head turned back to where Tom was pand my eyes took a cautious glimpse as he lingered by the opened fridge, humming to himself while he looked for a lunch snack, too concentrated on the task at hand to hear us. Our dogs, on their tails behind him. Harrison’s smile couldn’t get any nastier when he followed my eyes.. He reached out and ruffled my hair like an annoying big brother would. I swatted his hand away. Gabby turned around at the sound of my groan, oblivious to me and her boyfriend’s silent exchange.

“What are you still standing there for? “ she asked rhetorically. With this, Tom looked at our direction and regarded us with a suspicious look, two greek yogurts on his hands.

“Your robe’s already inside. 10 minutes.” Gabby pointed to the bathroom subsequently unloading the last items inside the brown bag and stacking them into the customized Pantry cabinet under the staircase.

“Urgh. Yes Mum.” With a roll my eyes, I dragged my feet and closed the door behind an amused Harrison and bossy Gabby, and hungry Tom.

I put my hand under the running shower, testing the temperature first before going under. Not long did the rapid stream of lukewarm water drowned out the voices from the other side of the room and I was made aware of my solitude.

The past weeks regressed to our normal mundane routine. Everyone has work for a few more weeks, til we fly back home to England with the exception of Gabby. Tom, Harrison and I hang out during the day, if we’re all unoccupied, doing chores or anything to keep ourselves amused. Gabby will join us later in the afternoon or early in the evening, depending on her shift.

My mind drifted back to the brunet on the other side of the wall. He must be halfway through his-my- greek yogurt by now.

I caught the upward motion of my lips as I recall the ease that re-settled over us after the revel weeks ago.

I nervously threaded my fingers through my hair as Gabby and I sauntered to where Tom was animatedly chatting with Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield backstage. His team including Harrison was already there. Gabby gave me a sideway smirk. “What?”

Tobey and Andrew gave Tom one-armed hug as they said their goodbyes. When both gentlemen were out of sight, Gabby pulled Tom’s head under and between her armpits and messed his hair. “How dare you make me cry Holland!” Instinctively, Harrison caught the carved bronze sculpture that Tom is giving him. Gabby’s headlock never loosened . He could easily remove himself from the situation yet chosen not to.

When she let him go, Tom stretched his suit. “Crybaby.” He sneered at Gabby who poked out her tongue on him. Tom stepped into my open arms as I engulfed him in another congratulatory hug again.

“Was I ok?” he whispered against my naked shoulder, the contact made tiny tsunamis on my stomach.

Still within his embrace, “You were more than that.” I breathed to his ear. Then in a nescient and brazen move, I pressed a long kiss to the chiseled cheek I could reach.

I switched off the shower’s knob and coiled my hair in the towel I used for drying myself. I put my robe on and wiped the fog that clouded the mirror. I stared at my mouth as I recite the following words:

Tom and I are good friends. Just that. I don’t need to overthink it. Stop overthinking it, alright?!” My reflection nodded and smiled.

Albeit, in the deepest and unexplored corner of my mind, a prisoner impatiently and furiously banged on the metal bars holding her captive.

The jazz music loomed over the ubiquitous speakers of the entire flat. The boys were in the kitchen, leaning on the countertop, heels crossed with each other. Their reflex turned to the opening creaks of the bathroom door; Harrison’s spoon and Tom’s doughnut halfway to their mouths. Tom immediately turned his back the other way while Harrison, nonchalantly looked down and continued to eat his food. Head bobbing in tune with the music. Tom elbowed him and he protested a “Bruv?” yogurt still on his tongue.

The dogs chased me as I ran up to my room, thinking I was in a gaming mood. I dressed myself in a button down long sleeves and tucked it in my best fitted jeans. I grabbed the small backpack on the floor before barging down the stairs. I’m anew and ready to go.

“I kept my word, 10 minutes!” Two men looked up from their phones for a minute and muttered a small and deadpanned “Yey!” I jogged down the stairs with two dogs right behind me. Gabby was nowhere in sight. I plopped down on the three-seater-couch beside Tom who was reading something on his phone. His dog nudged her head on his knees and took a seat beside his feet. She lie down on her back as his human started rubbing his socked feet on her warm belly. Though his face remained in a determined concentration, he clasped his free hand on my ankle when I pulled it up over his thighs naturally.

My flatmate must have cleaned the table while I was in the bath. Everything was in orderly fashion again like some page from an Interior Design magazine. The decorative vignettes that I removed on the table while I was playing with Tom was reinstated. Which made me look for the video game console strewn under the 64 inches television.

“Oi! Where did our game go?” I exhorted at the two men beside me.

“Gabby confiscated them and locked it in her room. Apparently, she can’t trust me and Tom with it.” Harrison supplied, dropping his phone on the coffee table. “Which reminds me... I need a favour from you. Both of you.” He uttered in an undertone.

With this, Me and Tom edged our bodies closer to where Harrison was sitting but Tom still holding on to both my feet.

“I don’t wanna kick you out of your own house mate, but um.. Can me and Gabby have this place for tonight? She doesn’t know but I planned something for her.” He confessed in a timid voice that I can’t help but smile.

“What? What did you plan to do?” Tom queried, excitement in his tone.

“Git! Don’t ask that! Don’t tell us!” I lightly smacked Tom’s head and frowned at him.

“Why do you always assume that I’m gonna do something promiscuous?” Glaring at Tom’s sheepish grin.

“Well, aren’t you gonna? “ we both raised our eyebrows at him.

“No! Well, yeah maybe....I got her a necklace, that’s all. And I planned to cook for her tonight. “ Harrison explained bashfully.

“What’s wrong with our place?” Tom chided, sounding butt-hurt

“Well, do we have a perfectly functioning oven?” Harrison accused

“Um.. no..” Tom grumbled.

“Do we have, I don’t know romantic high ceilings?” Harrison gestured dramatically over the modern drop lights above our 4-seater dining table.

“Well, no.”

“Is our flat clean?”

“Absolutely not.” Tom jested, Harrison’s facts dawning on him.

“Harrison, I got you. Let me grab an overnight bag.” I winked at him, stood up and shuffled his blonde hair.

“Thank you!!! You can sleep in my room.” He smiled up at me.

I was rounding the dining table when I heard Tom complained,

“Uh no way man, We don’t know what kinds of shit are in your room. She’ll sleep in mine and I’ll sleep in yours.” Tom disclosed, laying his entire body on the spot I just vacated. Harrison threw a nearby pillow on his face.

I packed lightly, just a two sets of clothes for later when I shower and for tomorrow. Gabby reemerged for her room, wearing a plain white deep v-neck shirt, jeans and ankle boots.

“What are you doing with an overnight bag?” She asked, noticing the duffle bag on my shoulder. Before I could lie,

“We’ll continue our game at me and Harrison’s place tonight.” Tom shuffled from the hall, wiping his hands with the dish towel and I could see the dogs bent over two food bowls in the kitchen.

“Why can’t you do it here?”

“Because, you’re gonna be here. We can’t concentrate if you’re just gonna peek out and shout from your room every now and then. And you have work tomorrow.” Tom shrugged.

“Good point.” Gabby frowned in agreement.

“Oh and I’m gonna bring my baby too. The vet said that I should keep an eye on him." That part was wholly true. I stretched an elbow on Tom’s shoulders and stared back at Gabby, acting natural as possible. Which is funny, considering Tom and I were such professional liars.

“Ok fine. Guys, Listen up. This is the plan.” She clapped her hands, the action reminded me of a soccer coach about to give his students a pep talk before a big game.

“It’s 12:14, we have be at the tents by 2pm. We’re gonna load those boxes on the car, Harrison would drive. We’re gonna drop the dogs to your apartment, 10 blocks away, maybe it'll take just 10 minutes tops and off we go. Capisce?” she said in one breath.

“Maam, yes, maam!”

#tom holland fic #tom holland story #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #you are the reason #you are the reason fic #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine

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mariyasabri · 3 years

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1 BHK flat in Ambernath interior design ideas

Are you trying to figure out how to work interior design for a 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath? Here! You will have a clear image of how to plan for your 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath once you have finished reading this entire blog.

If it's a 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath, the carpet space will typically range from 400 to 650 square feet.

When it comes to space planning, we need to consider all elements. The colour scheme you select for the walls, furniture, and organisation Wardrobes and cupboards of your 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath.

Interior design is where you'll be putting your money for the next 15 years. As a result, we'll need to think about how your 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath will appear and feel.

You should have a good concept of what we'll have in our 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath. There is no need to overcrowd the furniture or cupboards.

Designing and decorating a 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath is difficult, but we never say it's impossible. We should implement a few easy concepts that will have a significant impact.

First and foremost, we must determine whether or not we have an extended balcony. Are we going to put them in one of the 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath?

● We can use them as a study space if we have one. Using it as a utility, the kitchen was extended. The balcony itself will bloom every day if you're a gardening enthusiast.

● The first thing we'll keep in mind is not to block or close off the natural light that comes in through the windows. Because the natural light is the one which shines to our design and décor and offers more happy sentiments.

Impacts of Colour

When it comes to limited spaces, we should be more selective about the colours we use in our 1 BHK Flat in Ambernath. Lighter-colored wall paintings, furniture, and drapes make the room appear larger.

A mild – neutral colour is recommended. Classic white, neutral tans, grey, and rich blue are all good choices for furniture. These colours will reflect natural light, giving our home an attractive and pleasant appearance.

Make sure the curtain and sofa fabrics are the same colour as the walls (couches).

Organize your belongings

These are the days when we have a greater selection of attractive tiny furnishings. And the latest fashions have resulted in foldable furniture.

To maximise storage, I'll work on the furniture. Bench with storage, couch with storage, and cot with storage are just a few examples. It will also help you save space.

Wall-mounted, folding furniture for a bed or a sofa that can be used as a bed. Dining tables, televisions, crockery units, and even storage units all contribute to these factors.

These are versatile pieces of furniture. They're also small.

● The dining table may be set up in two different ways to match the granite in the kitchen. With the long chairs, there is more space available.

● As a wall-mounted television unit, it acts as storage.

The use of a panel divider creates the illusion of more space.

The open space between the rooms can be better used with the use of panels. So, if you have an open kitchen, you can utilise wood panelling. It provides you with a new and attractive appearance.

This is also available on MDF, which will fit into your budget.

The panels also serve as a decorative element in the area, acting as a wall divider and providing an attractive appearance.

The wall divider will be carved and will provide a functional look for the room. We can also use white in this case.

#1 BHK flat in Ambernath #1 BHK Flat in Thane #flat for sale in ambernath #property in ambernath #new flat in ambernath #Residential Property in Ambernath

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unexpressive · 3 years

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Memory Two

The bell rings, signifying the day’s end of my normal, make-believe life. My friends – if you can even call them that, given they know absolutely nothing more than an ant would grasp the vastness of the valleys of the Grand Canyon – happily skip home on their school busses, one backpack strap over their shoulder. I loved my friends, but were they really my friends if I couldn’t muster up the courage to share my story and feelings with them? At that point, were they my friends? Or were they friends to the person I was during the day? Or perhaps, by not being true to self, I was the traitor, the pretender, the bearer of a false veneer of a friend.

In this recollection of a 15 year-old boy, the first half of his life ends to the ringing of the bell, signifying the beginning of the second half of his life. The walk to the hospital was a short fifteen-minute one; backpack on back and head to the ground, the walk often felt like an eternity spent in a room filled with the noxious gas of love-fuelled dread. It was impossible to separate feelings of sanguinity from afflictions of approaching temporal decay.

The hospital is a temple of love, loneliness, recovery, and death. Inside the building, my attention is divided between humans on different walks in life. Renewal and newfound hope can be discovered in the eyes of those lucky enough to leave the hospital stronger than before. Acceptance and grace, even, sometimes present in the eyes of those that do not share the same luck. For others, anger, regret, and resentment radiate into the air, like a foul gas leaking from a pipeline. We can sense the danger now – but it is too late. And as for the rest of the souls that happen to find themselves wandering around the hospital within whom acceptance, renewal, hope, regret, grace, nor anger can be found, a void exists between their eyes and their souls. You can only begin to speculate the afflictions that perturb their mind – during which find yourself being drawn into the same void that hides within them what you seek.

The boy enters his father’s room. Gray light impregnates space surrounded by four gray walls. On one gray wall, a television set rests mounted above a gray sofa. Atop the grey bed the father rests, half-reclined. There is little colour remaining in his face, almost as though the gray room siphoned colour from his body through contact with the gray bed.

“Hi, boy.”

“Hi papa.”

“How was your day?”

“Good.”

I don’t ask him how his day was, because I already knew how it was. Humiliating. Helpless. Harrowing. And to me, it was heartbreaking.

I ask if he wants to watch Person of Interest, and he nods. So we put it on and we watch it.

At times like this, there were no clear indications of how the boy was supposed or expected to feel towards himself or for his father. His eyes rested on his father’s face – or rather, the thin, skeletal frame of what used to hold the features containing all of the world’s lovingkindness in one man. His head lacked hair. His eyebrows were sparse; any individual eyebrow hair still clinging on had its colored drained to gray. His eyes, sunken. Devoid of hope for his own future. And yet, when those sunken eyes lay their gaze on me, they fill with a different kind of hope. The selfless kind of hope, one that wishes the best for someone not themselves. The kind of hope fuelled by love and encouragement, one that revitalizes his bank of faith, optimism, and assurance. Amidst the melancholy that haunted every day of our lives in the past nine months, those were the moments I lived for: Fleeting reminders, inspired by unconditional love, that my father was proud of who I have become. Consolation that everything will be okay, even past the toughest hurdles conjured by “real life”.

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tea-and-toblerones · 7 years

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Unison Chapter 3- All I Want to do is Try and Make a Connection

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My mind raced as Ed led me to his room. I'm going up to Ed Sheeran's hotel room. I wonder how many times he's -you know what, no don't go there. Definitely don't go there.

"It's not as many as you're thinking."

His voice pulled me out of my thoughts. We were standing in front of the elevator, waiting for its descent to our level. The entire lobby was vacant so we didn't really have to worry about eavesdropping.

"What?"

He gave me a crooked grin "So you weren't just thinking 'I wonder how many times he's brought girls back' Not as many as you think. While I did do the whole one night stand thing for a brief, and I do mean brief, spell, it made me feel..." He trailed off, searching for the right word to use. I, however, was one step ahead of him.

"More empty than you were already feeling." I finished for him, avoiding his gaze.

I heard a faint 'ooooh' of realisation come from him, picking up on the subtle hint that I had dropped with that statement. The noise drew my eyes to him. He looked much more relaxed and at ease now. Some of the playfulness I had saw earlier was starting to creep back. The elevator opened and he snagged my hand pulling me in, since I was still halfway wrapped up in my thoughts and hadn't noticed its arrival.

As the elevator rose, Ed dug through his pockets, pulling out his room key. When the movement stopped I made to walk out but he put his arm out to stop me.

"This isn't my floor." He said softly, intertwining his fingers with mine. "So you don't wander off while you're all up in your thoughts." He brought our hands up to his face, placing a kiss to the back of mine. His eyes gleaming with humor, a smile playing across his lips. If he wouldn't have stopped me I would have walked right off that elevator and kept right on walking. I'd like to say I would have noticed he wasn't beside me but I know myself. I wouldn't have until I was at the end of the hallway, asking which room number was his. Then the frantic turn around, the calling of his name and the confusion that comes after. It wasn't that I was thinking anything negative. I had about a thousand thoughts running through my head.

What would have happened if I hadn't sent that message tonight?

How would thing of progressed?

How did he picture our first date?

Hell, how did I picture it for that matter?

I closed my eyes. I could see a small restaurant. Small square table, with crisp white linen table clothes and plates to match. Floors a smooth dark wood that had matched wood that made up the lower part of the wall and the trim. The other half being a cream color, with small lamps placed every couple of feet, giving a soft, intimate light. There was also track lights on the ceiling to provide just a bit more light. Not dim enough to make you squint to see your dining partner, but not overly harsh. Small, cozy, fancy, yet, not overly so. I could picture Ed, wearing a dark button up shirt, reaching for his glass of wine. Laughing, his hand gesturing as he animatedly told his story. I catch myself smiling at the thought of it.

I forced myself back into the real world just in time to see a couple businessmen enter. Ed nodded in their direction, asking them if they were headed for the ground floor. He hit the button for them and made polite small talk as the elevator ascended to his level. When it finally reached the level, Ed bid the men a good morning before we walked off. Keeping his word, his hand never let go of mine, however my thoughts were firmly planted on the ground. We were in front of his door, he paused before inserting the key.

"I hadn't planned on company so I haven't really picked up after myself..." He looked a little guilty with a splash of shame. I picture takeout and pizza boxes scattered about, half empty cans of soda, random snack packages littering the floor.

"I'm not here to judge you on your housekeeping skills. I'm here for the Simpsons and your company. Just open the door."

He slides the keycard in and pushes the door open. He enters before me, just so he could hold the door open. Such a gentleman.

"Welcome to my temporary home. Again, sorry for the mess."

My mouth dropped open and it had nothing to do with state of the room and everything to do with the room itself. The huge windows catch my eye right off the bat. The view was spectacular. The sun had just started to properly rise, causing brilliant shades of oranges and yellow to burst across the sky, chasing away the dark blues hues of night, ushering in a new day. I pull my eyes away from the view and focus inside. This isn't a room, this is a penthouse. The walls were an antique cream color and the floors was a mix of woods in complimentary shades of dark browns and greys. There was a white sectional leather sofa, in the far right corner with a love seat across from in. A glass coffee table sat in the middle of the area, a laptop resting upon it and various papers scattered across the surface. A large television sat on the other side of the room. Beside it I see a door, presumably to the bedroom. Modern, yet, classic. To my left there small, but fully functioning kitchen The countertops were white marble, the cabinets a dark wood. All the appliances were a sleek grey. There was three small lights hanging over the sink/bar providing the entire kitchen area with light. In front of the island there was a small square table that matched the cabinets and trim. Four white, incredibly comfortable looking chairs were around it. As for the mess, I didn't see it. There was a cozy, lived in feel. Shoes by the door, coat tossed on the couch. Papers scattered about. I had wandered into the room as I admired it. Ed had remained by the door, letting me look around.

I turn back to him "Oh, Ed, this room is amazing!"

"You should see the bathroom. Fucking amazing. You want the tour?"

I nodded, pulling off my jacket. Ed had did the same, taking mine out of my hand, he laid them on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. I told me I could put my shoes where ever, so I slipped them off and set them next to his. Wow, he has some big shoes. Next to his, mine look even smaller. Smiling he motioned for me to follow him. We head into the room beside the tv, which was the bedroom as I had thought. There was a thick plush creme colored carpet that I wiggled my toes in, savoring the feeling. There was a large, unmade bed. A huge white fluffy duvet crumped up at the foot of the bed. The pillows in disarray. I wonder if he had a bad night's sleep? The headboard was an upholstered grey. Nightstand flanked each side of the bed, with a white lamp on each of them. The panoramic windows spanned into here as well. There were clothes laying about crumped in various spots on the floor. There was another tv mounted to the wall, underneath was a dresser that matched the black nightstands. A drawer was cracked open. I could see a mess of socks and other under garments.

He wasn't exaggerating about the bathroom. Everything was a light brown tile The sink, the floors, the walls. A Jacuzzi tub? Holy hell. The tub was on a raised platform, big enough for two people to sit comfortably. I could picture us relaxing, the tub filled with suds, glasses of wine in hand. The shower was huge as well, glass doors, gold trim.

"Oh that tub..." my voice bouncing off the walls, echoing my wonderment back to us.

"It's great. I've totally fallen asleep in there." A sheepish grin adorned his face, He must have ran his hand through his hair since it was even messier than usual.

"I can believe it. I'm a firm believer that a good soak can cure almost anything."

"I agree with that. I've written some of my best songs in the tub." I pictured him lounging in a tub, guitar in hand, strumming a couple chords, wrinkling his nose at the sound, trying a different variations until he found one he was satisfied with, quick to reach over and scribble it down in a notebook. I realise that's probably not what he meant by coming up with them in the tub, but the image was a humorous one either way.

We had made our way back into the living room. The sun was fully up now bathing the room in a gorgeous light. It promised to be a beautiful day. Ed motioned for me to sit on the sofa as he dug through the cabinets. I hear running water, then a soft clang as he set a kettle on the range. There was two softer clinks as he set down two cups. I found the remote buried under a pile of papers. My eyes skimmed over the papers. Whatever he had written was crossed out. Brushing them aside I turn the tv on, flipping through the channels. He had sat two cups of tea down on the coffee table, going back to fetch the sugar.

"I wasn't sure how you like your tea so...well, I don't even know if you like tea but its proper to make some for someone who's a guest." I reach for a sugar packet, shaking it slightly before ripping it open and pouring it in my cup. He snagged up the remote and within a few clicks The Simpsons opening theme was playing across the screen. I had tucked my feet up underneath myself, sipping on my tea. Ed sat next to me, his feet propped up on the table. One hand wrapped around his cup, the other resting on the back of the couch. Within a couple episodes, the tea was gone and I was resting my head on his shoulder. His arm had wrapped around me, his fingers idly playing with a few strands of my hair.

We spent the entire day in his suite. When we had started getting hungry, he called up some food. When a box of pizza showed up, with a bag of fries I couldn't help but laugh.

"I promised you pizza and chips and I am a man of my word." He placed the fries on my slice before handing it over. Eyebrow cocked he watched as I took a bite, the cheese, sauce, pepperoni and potato coming together in my mouth. "Well? What do you think?"

I stare at the slice, letting the flavors run over my tongue. I swallow before I decided I left him in suspense long enough. “This is delicious!"

"Yes!" He had done a small fist pump, his face beaming, "See, I knew I liked you for a reason!" he pointed his finger my way, shaking it slightly as he nodded. His eyes squinted slightly, mouth pulled in a sideways smile that could only be described as a 'they know what's up' expression.

He poured the rest of the fries over the pizza, grabbing a slice for himself. He took the first bite with gusto. I found watching him eat was just as enjoyable as the food itself. I smiled as a bit of cheese clung to his chin. I reached across the table and pull the cheese off. I lick it off my finger before grabbing another slice for myself. It was only after his eyes had flicked from my mouth to my fingers did I realise what exactly I had did.

"God, you're gorgeous."

I stopped mid chew. In my minds eye there was fries sticking out of my mouth, cheeks packed full like a chipmunk. Sauce smeared everywhere. You know how animators draw their characters when they're chowing down? Just like that. While in reality there was just a small bit cheese stuck to my face and sauce at the corners of my mouth.

"Whut?" My mouth still full so it came out pretty muffled. I definitely hadn't felt that gorgeous. Messy hair, sleepwear, bits of pizza stuck to my face. Now I'm not as obsessed with my appearance as some, but I do like to look my best. This wasn't it.

"You're fucking gorgeous." He repeated, "Not many women would show up in pajamas to a diner. Nor would they be attacking that pizza like you are. They'd be shy, proper. Dressed in their best clothes, hiding behind makeup, eating salads with little nibbles." He mimicked how he thought girls ate their pizza, with the daintiest bite, covering his mouth as he chewed, causing me to do a pretty unladylike snort. He swallowed and continued. "This, well this takes confidence and that's the key, innit?"

I put my slice back down in the box, reach for a napkin and wipe my fingers off slowly before dropping it on the table. "Well, I hate to disappoint, but I was almost that woman. Well, the whole fancy clothes, makeup bit anyway. But I will always enjoy my food. No dainty bites here."

"Mmm, but you still did it and that's what matters." After the pizza had been cleared away, we went back to the couch, with one minor adjustment. Ed had pulled the duvet off the bed and threw it over us as we continued watching. I pulled it up to my chin, wiggling around to get into a comfortable position. There was no hesitation this time as soon as he sat down I snuggled close. I rested my hand on his chest, the other snaked around his torso, head on his shoulder.

I don't know when I had fell asleep but I knew it was bound to happen. Full stomach, warm blanket. I vaguely remember Ed gently waking me up asking if I'd be more comfortable in bed. I had somehow wormed my way down into his lap. His fingers were running through my hair in a slow relaxing rhythm. I smiled at the memory of it. As I slowly gain more consciousness I realise his arms are around me. I could feel his breath on my face, light and steady, causing my hair to tickle my nose. I wiggle it, not really wanting to move too much and wake him. I open my eyes to find his face nearly touching mine. His face completely relaxed, peaceful, content. I take it in. The glorious mess of ginger hair standing out against the white linen. His ridiculously long eyelashes. Seriously, why do men have such long eyelashes? The light ginger freckles that were sprinkled across his cheeks. The light chest hair just peaking out from underneath his shirt, barely noticeable due to the colored ink. Hmm, his chest is tatted too. I tried to roll over and I heard him moan, tightening his grip in defiance, his eyebrows coming together. I felt a tug inside. People are the most vulnerable as they sleep and he was holding on to me like I was a salvation in a choppy sea. I place a kiss on his forehead, my fingers running through his hair. I laid there for a moment, soaking in every bit of this I could. It had been well over a year since I'd just enjoyed sleeping next to someone. I missed it as much as I hated to admit it.

I turn over as carefully as possible, another disgruntled moan, looking for my phone. Right on the nightstand, he must have put it there knowing I'd be searching for it as soon as I woke up. Smart boy. I grab it, looking at the time. 8:45 am. I stare at it blankly for a second. At least my sleep schedule is back on track. Wait. That means it's Monday.

"Oh fuck! It's Monday!" I flew up, tossing the duvet aside. Ed groggily rolled over, searching for any source of heat. He tugged the duvet to him, scrambling to stay warm.

"Shh, come back to bed." His voice thick with sleep. His hands came out, pulling my hips closer to him, trying to get me to lie back down. As tempting as it was, I really couldn’t afford to miss any work. I brush them off, hearing the sad dull thud of rejection as they hit the mattress.

"I've got to be at work in fifteen minutes!” I was up on my feet in a rush, frantically looking at my attire. “Fucking hell, I'm not dressed for work.” I groaned “ I'm not even wearing a bra for Christ's sake!"

Ed instantly became alert when I said work. His eyes snapped open, already alert, all signs of sleepiness gone. By looking at him your wouldn’t have had a clue only moment ago he was half out of it asking for a longer sleep in. The only thing that might have been a giveaway was the sleep tousled hair. He launched himself out of bed, heading to his closet.

I hear the coat hangers shuffle across the rack as he flicked through. There was a pause,"Wait, you're not wearing a bra?" There was a sly lilt to his voice.

I had been searching for my socks that had came off my feet as I slept. "Hey, you said come as you are and I wasn't wearing one at the time." In my hurry I had completely shoved the duvet off the bed has my hands skittered about the mattress feeling for an out of place lump.

"Well aren't you a naughty girl." I heard the door click close, his feet shuffling across the floor. He held out a white t-shirt for me to take. "Here, go put this one while I look for your socks." He eyed the fallen bedding.

I take the offered shirt and bee lined to the bathroom. I slipped my shirt off, dropping it on the floor. I pulled his over my head. Well its better than what I was wearing but it doesn't hide the fact that I’m braless.

I walk back into his bedroom and he's clutching my bright blue socks. He gives me a quick glance over. "Yep, you're definitely not wearing a bra." I scowl and cross my arms. He puts up a finger and goes back to his closet. After a bit of shuffling he hands me a black and blue flannel. I slip it on and his fingers come up, making quick work of the buttons. "There. It's a bit on the thick side so it shouldn't be noticeable." His voice low. I could feel the surge of chemistry humming between us. My breath caught in my throat as I stare up in those brillant blue eyes. I noted that they were a misty grey color today. Fitting since I get lost in them so easily. His fingers still lingering at that top button. After a few seconds he clears his throat and pulls away. "You'd best get a move on. We don't want you to be late." As much as I didn't want to, I stepped back, taking a breath as I did so. Why in the absolute fucking hell didn't you kiss him Adi?!

"I'll message you when I'm on break, okay?"

He slipped my glasses on my face, nodding in satisfaction. "Sounds good, now go on."

I grab my jacket from the back of the chair and cram my feet into my tennis shoes, wiggling them until they gave in and let my feet slide into place. I go to leave, my hand on the knob, but I turn back.

"I forgot something."

"What?" He turned back around scanning over the flat, looking for my wayward item.

"This." I grab him and kiss him, his surprise evident, but quickly forgotten. "You can plan the next date." I say with a wink before rushing out the door. The last thing I saw was that crooked grin before the door closed.

********************************************************************** Ed's POV

I stood staring at the now closed door, still feeling her lips against mine. I felt a bit guilty as I ordered room service, knowing she didn't get a chance to eat. As I waited I started gathering up all the rubbish that I had been neglecting to throw out over the past couple of days. I threw empty liquor bottle after empty liquor bottle in the bin, growing more disgusted with myself as I did so. As much as I played it off, I was appalled that Adi had saw my room in this state. She most likely wrote it off as 'Oh he's famous, he probably throws some wicked parties'. I don't know which I find worse. The fact she could see me as a wild drunken rock star or the truth. That I had drank all of these myself because everything was just too much to bear. I could hear the bottles clinking as I carried them over to the door. The sound of disappointment.

After I decided to take a year off, I had cut ties with everyone. I rationalized it as I've toured for five years, we all deserve a break. While it sounded good, that wasn't the whole reason. I had became too reliant on my pain erasers. I was finding myself reaching for the bottle more and more. It was a nasty downward spiral and I didn't want them to see just how far I had fallen. They neglect to tell you that while everyone in the world may know your name, you'll never feel more lonely. The more they know of you, the less they know you. Nobody wants to hear the whingings of a rich, successful person who's living their dream.

'How can you be upset when you've all this money.' More money, more people come banging on your door asking for it. They don't want to know what you've been up to, how you've been. They want to know how they can benefit from knowing me.

'You're out living your dream, doing what you love. You know how many would kill for that chance?' Yeah, maybe I'm lucky. I go, sing a few songs and get handed a big fat check. Easy peasy. Or maybe I worked my ass off, sacrificed alot to get to where I am. This didn't happen over night.

'You sound like a real prat going on about how it's lonely when you could have your choice of so many women.' Oh, sure I get my pick of the ladies. Of course, they're expecting this perfect rom com version that I just can't live up to. There's just too much pressure to be perfect and there is no way in hell I can live up to that. If that makes me sound jilted, so be it. Hell, maybe I am.

After a while, you just stop trying.

Then here she comes crashing into my life. I had been so wrapped up in conversation I had had with my dad earlier that day that I wasn't paying attention to what was going on around me and crashed right into somebody. Thinking I was going to have to put my powers of persuasion to the test, since I assumed I ran into a big metal head, I started coming up with what to say. I wasn't expecting to have run into a petite woman. Instinctively I grab on to her so she doesn't fall. I see her mouth open but the next band had drowned out whatever she had started to say. I gave her a thumbs up to show her it's all good, no harm done. She returned it, an embarassed smile on her face before continuing on her way. I didn't notice she had spilled a majority of her beer until after she had left.

When I had finally found her, after an extremely helpful patron had pointed out there was a whole rooftop patio. There she was, not sitting at a table among a group of people like I had anticipated, chatting and laughing about whatever. She was alone, perched on the edge of the roof looking down on all the rambunctious people on the street. I could only see half of her face, but there was a distant look that I knew so well. That look had vanished as soon as I spoke and she faced me.

Her hair was dark and sleek, hanging a bit below shoulders, the light bouncing off of it. Her eyes a captivating mixture of green and brown that brought to mind a vast forest, promising to be as strong and resilient and just as easy to get lost in. The way she'd cocked that eyebrow up, the way the right side of her mouth came up in a slight smirk. Her voice, silvery, with a slight smoky edge. If good whisky had a voice. I almost lose my nerve. She's stunning, there's no way I have a shot.

She introduced herself. That smirk still on her face. She was obviously enjoying herself Well, it was nice being some random stranger. I took her hand and introduced myself. "Now you're not a stranger anymore," A glint of playfulness danced across her features, "You're Ed. How 'bout we get that drink, yeah?" There was no slight eye widening, no mouth opening. No awe. No wonder. Holy hell, she has no clue who I am. There is no way I got this lucky.

"Y’know what Ed? You're, well you're pretty fantastic." I see her reach over the bar grabbing the bartender's pen and a bar napkin. She starts scribbling her name and number on it, "Here, this is my number," She presses it against her lips, leaving a faint reddish pink lip outline before sliding it my way.” I really hope to hear from you." She walked out the door into the cab I had called for her. I quickly fold it carefully, slipping it into my pocket, snagging her jacket that she had left behind on the stool. I hurry to catch up with her. I help her get into her cab. I leaned in to put her jacket on her lap. She giggled as I did so, placing a quick kiss on my cheek. "I should send your mother some- some flowers. She raised a proper gent." The way she blinked up at me, a lopsided grin on her face, her fingers lightly tapping my chest in an overdramatic way, swaying a bit. Not to mention her poor attempt at a British accent when she said proper gent. It was the first time in a long while I had felt the comment was sincere, not just because of my image.

I woke up the next morning with my head pounding. If you could really call it morning, it was almost noon. I shield my eyes from the light pouring in from the window. I didn't feel as despicable and pathetic as I usually did coming off a drunk. I rolled over, seeing the napkin folded on my nightstand. I smiled, remembering how she would lean over the table and say random words when I was drawing back to shoot. The way her hips moved as she danced around the cue. Then just forgetting the cue entirely, hands waving in the air, huge grin plastered on her face as she danced to a beat only she could hear. All too quickly reality set in. How long do I have before she figures out who I am and this all comes crashing down? I pick up the napkin and stare at it. Looking at the perfect lip print right below her number. Those lips had been pressed on my cheek. 'You're a proper gent.' A proper gent would message to see if she was okay. I type out a message, my thumb hovering over the send button. How long am I going to drag this out for? Once she knows who I am, it's going to change. You're just going to make it worse on yourself in the end. If it can even get worse. Binders in hotel rooms are about as low as you can go. There was one ember of optimism left in me that said give it a shot.

After the message sent I started doing my usual morning routine. Teeth, shower, breakfast. While the shower calmed my nerves and alleviated some of my headache, I still felt like someone had filled me with cotton. I ignored my phone for as long as I could, until curiosity had gotten the better of me and I opened her response. I hadn't realised I was holding my breath until I let it out. Well, no outburst of are you Ed Sheeran yet. That's promising. When her late night text came through as I was riding in a taxi to a diner. I was taken by surprise. I was still getting used to the time difference so my sleep schedule was a little off, still in sync with back home. However that surprise was nothing compared to the surprise of her asking to join me for breakfast. Of course she'd ask when you're out in your pyjamas. She'll look marvelous and I'll look like a bum off the street. I wonder if she'll come in pyjamas too...won't know unless I try...

She spotted me first. How is it she still managed to look stunning in a old faded lion king shirt and yoga pants? Hair thrown up in a careless bun. There was a look of apprehension on her face. I could feel my heart sink, assuming it was all because of who I was. When she got closer and I saw the scar it clicked. I look over the rest of her face. If she thought it made her any less beautiful, she was fooling herself. It was soon forgotten after we started talking.

Then she said the magic words. Can I ask you something? The way she was staring at her lap, fidgeting with her sleeve I knew it was something she found hard to ask. Then out pops Why me. So she does know who I am. I felt a bit disheartened at that, but her attitude hadn't changed since the previous night. So I decide to ask the question that had been burning a hole in me. Does this change things? The way her face remained neutral, I guess she had given this alot of thought. After her answer, I found myself able to enjoy myself.

I felt a little dirty that I had went out of my way to keep who I was away from her. While I hadn’t outright lied to her, there was a fair bit of subterfuge. When we were swapping drunken stories I had purposely picked ones with my mates back home. She didn’t seem bothered by it, I had expected questions like how’s it traveling the world? Who’s the coolest person you’ve met? Stupidest shit you’ve bought. No one bothers with the common first date questions since it’s all over the web. So when she asked, where’d you grow up? What’s your folks do? Siblings? I was happy to oblige.

It was nice to feel normal, so when the first group came stumbling in, I was a little irritated. Don’t get me wrong, I love my fans. I’ll never be rude or hateful towards anyone unless they absolutely deserve it. I know once I step outside, I pretty much belong to them. It doesn’t make it any less frustrating. So when one of them keeps eyeballing our table, I decide it’s probably best to leave.

I’m waiting for the waitress to bring back my card when the next wave comes in. I picked the right time to leave. Adi was leaning against the wall next to the door, flicking through something on her phone when some guy saunters up to her, looming over her. I could only see her face and she looked not only uninterested, but mildly annoyed. The way he towered over her, his stance, and her face told me this man was bad news. I felt a flicker of anger try and flare up. As soon as I got my card back I make my way to her, slipping my arm around her. I didn’t want him anywhere near her. As soon as I locked eyes with him I knew he wasn’t as drunk as he was pretending to be. I felt her hand come up, gently rubbing my back. She’s trying to soothe me. I push the door open, easing her out it.

I was on the assumption that this was the end of the night for us that now we'd go our separate ways. I was plesantly surprised when she offered to show me around the city, even if the shops were all closed and all we could do was walk by them. I slipped my hand around hers, letting her lead me along. She pointed out some of the landmarks, giving brief explainations of why the were so popular. Shops that she thought were worth a look, what had good food, what didn't and where to avoid if I wanted to fly under the radar. I made mental notes of each place she pointed out, forcing myself to remember them. Granted my memory is kind of poor, poorer of the late but I was certain I could remember the names. Even if I couldn't remember the location.

When she said she had one more place I knew it was the most significant by the way her eyes lit up. When we reached it, she had broke away, rushing ahead. I could help but smile at her as she ran to a decent sized fountain in the middle. Spinning around, her arms open wide a huge grin radiatiating across her face. It was a quaint park. There was plenty of room for people to put a blanket down and relax for a spell. I could see why she loved it so much. We sat on a black iron wrought bench the was in front of the fountain. When she handed me a penny, I felt touched that she was including me in something she found comforting. The way the lights reflected off the water on and onto her face as she had her eyes closed in combination with the bittersweet look she wore when she said her wish came true is what made me reach out and kiss her. With the fairy lights all around and the overall romantic ambience that came with this little park it seemed like the perfect opportunity. I might not be able to erase the bitter taste the past left behind but I can give you a pleasing one now.

We were standing in the lobby waiting for the elevator when I noticed her face pulled into a worrisome look. She knows nothing of my "good guy" reputation. She just knows I could go home with a different girl every night. I quickly put her fears to rest, assuring her I'm not the type. I tried but I quickly learned it wasn't sex I was wanting. I just wanted someone to care about me. Adi had said it perfectly. Each encounter left me feeling even worse about myself. She's been through something similar, how else would she know the feeling?. She was still wrapped up in her thoughts because as soon as the elevator stopped she was trying to walk off it. I grab her hand, really just looking for any excuse to keep her close. Whatever she was thinking of must have been pleasant, as she stared dreamily off.

Her amazement at my suite was so pure. She bounced around as I showed her everything. The envious look in her eye when I showed her the bathroom. For a second I thought I saw a flicker of lust. Well well, what's on your mind you naughty girl? The way she sat on the couch, flipping lazily through the channel as I prepared tea. The light falling on her, casting a glow around her. She had pulled down her hair, running her fingers through it, teasing it. There was a bit of wave due to it being pulled up. She was a stunning work of art. When that work of art dove into the pizza with such enthusiasm I couldn’t help but smile. I tucked in with my own slice, enjoying it even though I only had it the day before. When I had lowered the slice, her long delicate fingers came up to my chin, plucking a strand of cheese that had adhered itself to my face. Her eye’s glimmering in a warm way, a little smile upon her lips. She’s such a beautiful person.

Since she had snuggled up to me prior to the food, I pulled the duvet off the bed and over us to give us a more cozy feel. Her arms wrapped around me, holding me close. I ran my fingers through her hair absentmindedly as I watched the screen. After a couple episodes I could hear her breathing deepening as she drifted off. As her body relaxed she slipped down my torso, her head landed in my lap. She was snoring lightly, her mouth slightly open, hair sticking to my shirt and some to her face. I wonder if she’d rather sleep in her own bed? I lean down and softly whisper in her ear asking if she would be more comfortable in her own bed. She moaned, burying her self more in my lap. As carefully as I could I slide out from under her. I bend down, scooping her up in my arms and carry her to my bed. As much as I’d love to sleep beside her, I didn’t want to push it. The couch is plenty comfortable, seeing as how I usually fall asleep there most nights anyway. No, I can't really call that falling asleep. I need to face the facts and call it what it was, blacking out. When I went to pull away after I set her down, she grabbed onto my shirt a whiny no coming from her lips. I whispered in her ear that I’m just getting the duvet, I'd be right back. When I come back, she's curled in almost the fetal position, hugging herself. I expected her to spread out as soon as the duvet hit her but she still stayed in that little huddled ball. She didn't move an inch when I eased into bed. It wasn't until my arm draped over her did she roll over and place her forehead against my chest. We stayed that way for the rest of the night. Our breathing slowly falling in sync.

I could see light filtering in even through my closed eyelids but that wasn't what woke me up. Her fingers were running through my hair. Was she humming? I wanted to peak up at her but I didn't want her to know I was starting to come around. That's when I felt her lips press against my forehead. I conceal my smile until after she rolls over to check the time. The last little bit of peace before the chaos that insued after.

The rap on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. Ah, my food's here. I take the tray, set it on the table, thanking the man before closing the door. As I ate I thought back to when I was helping her with the flannel. It had felt like I was touching a live wire. Why didn't you kiss her? Are you mad?! The hurried kiss before she left more than made up for it. The way her hands came up to my face, her lips crashing on mine. The hestitation to pull away and the way she bit her bottom lip after. That little sexy smirk with the wink as she closed the door.

I heard a ping from my phone that was still sitting on the coffee table. I pluck it from its resting spot, flipping it open to see a message from Adi.

"I'm so sorry about having to rush out the way I did. Monday's can be hectic sometimes. I feel awful about it. I'll plan better next time."

That's right, I'm planning the next date. Maybe I should start fishing for some information so I can plan something extra special I type back "Don't worry about it, I understand completely. I felt like an ass since you had to scramble out of here in such a rush you didn't get to enjoy a decent meal."

"I usually eat here anyway so that's no big deal. However, showing up in men's clothing and no makeup caused the rumor mill to catch on fire. I'm playing twenty questions. What's his name? What's he do? What's he look like? Where'd you meet? Oooooh, you slept over? How about you stay in your lane and mind your own business CAROL. Vultures. Everyone of them."

I tsked at the first part of the message, picturing a banana or some other type of fruit as breakfast. Not if I have my way about it. I figured being seen in my clothes would raise some questions and I was curious how she would handle them. A thought crossed my mind. Since she's keeping who I actually am quiet, why not have a bit of fun. "You want to fuck with them? I'll feed you a load of crap to tell them."

"Omg, yes! Lay it on me!"

We spent a majority of the morning coming up with an elaborate backstory. By the time we were done my name was Kevin, I worked at the local supermarket but that was only to support my dream of being an artist/slam poet. My parents didn't approve of my dreams so I moved away to follow them. I've been out here for 2 years now and I've almost sold one painting, which was surprising considering I only painted using my left hand since creativity flows through your non dominant hand. Some of the ideas were beyond ridiculous like being a part of underground street races, her majesty's top spy, a vigilante who broke into people's homes just to play with their pets while they were away and an embassidor of Hogwarts.

Adi had been texting me their reactions towards Kevin throughout the day as I straightened up the suite. Apparently the reviews were mixed, while most had taken the good for him for not giving up on his dreams stance, one only wanted to know looks and if we'd shagged and one lectured her about how she needed to find someone who's feet were planted on the ground. Which she added thanks for the lecture I didn’t ask for Carol, causing me to snort as I sorted through my laundry.

With the dishes clean, papers that were spread across the coffee table were tucked away in a folder. Dirty laundry was put in a hamper bag, ready for me to wash. It may have been something small and simple but it felt like I was finally going in the right direction. For the first time in months I had written something down in my diary. It started as a way to remember all the stuff I did during that time but it soon because a habit. I stopped at the end of my last tour because I just stopped caring. I didn’t want to look back and remember such a dark times. After a brief summary of the weekend I ended it with this.

Will she be the torch that leads me out of the darkness or the inferno that consumes me, leaving nothing behind but devastation?

#ed sheeran #teddy sheeran #ed sheeran fanfic #code ginger

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allonsysilvertongue · 7 years

Text

Wiping History

“What will happen when we get to your arena?” she demanded. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.“ 75 arenas and one colossal task for Effie Trinket. Hayffie. Post-MJ. Previously

9. Perspective

Haymitch was staring at her, grey piercing eyes that were often red from intoxication now sharp, wild and unsettled. Her expression softened, suspecting that some part of him must be shaken by this.

"Haymitch, what do you want me to do with it?"

"Put it on, play it."

His request took her aback. It was not at all what she was expecting, considering what unfolded during that vote.

"You – " she paused haltingly. "Do you really want me to see your - "

"I didn't vote for the Games," he cut her off curtly. "I've already told you that. You gotta see the bigger picture; see it for what it really is. The truth you know ain't the only truth out there."

She pursed her lips but understood his point and she had wanted to hear his side after the talk with Johanna and Annie. Realising that this was an opportunity for them to talk it out, she walked over to where the television was mounted on the wall of his rented apartment and stuck the device in one of its USB port.

Behind her, Haymitch already had a bottle of whiskey in hand. A glass of wine meant for her was already poured out. She didn't even realised he had moved from the sofa to retrieve the drinks. Or that he stocked up on wine since he preferred something stronger himself which clearly implied that he had bought that wine with her in mind. An unexpected fondness for him bloomed in her chest.

"Need a drink for this," he mumbled. "Figured I should get you something too before you have my balls for being a lousy host."

"I had hoped you would have learnt to mind your language by now," Effie clicked her tongue but took a seat next to him.

"Lost cause," he chuckled good-naturedly.

On screen, the grainy scene gave way to a familiar setting. She remembered having led Katniss to this room before taking her leave.

The camera, it would seem, had been mounted somewhere above and behind where Johanna was sitting which meant that Effie could clearly see Haymitch and Katniss. President Coin had smartly positioned herself right outside of the frame. A clear strategic move because should the video ever be released she could have it edited to start from where the Victors were tossing votes, thus removing the part where Coin herself was speaking to them and create a plausible deniability that she was there to begin with.

Alma Coin's voice filled the room, and Effie marveled that for someone who is currently rotting under the dirt, just the sound of her voice could still make something in her stomach curl.

"… in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population...."

Effie blanched. Almost immediately, she felt Haymitch's palm just below her shoulder blade, strong and warm, a source of comfort she was grateful for.

"It crossed her mind," Effie whispered.

"Of course, it did," Haymitch said gruffly. "But it won't look good to have genocide on her resume for when she sits in office though, would it?"

That ultimately led to the final, supposedly symbolic Hunger Games that Coin proposed.

"None of us would have that on our hands or our conscience," Haymitch spoke. "It acted as bait so we'd bite when she suggested the Games."

"Just like they did," Effie nodded on screen where Johanna and Enobaria had just voted for the Games.

On screen, a fierce, explosive debate continued to rage on between the fractured victors, punctuated only by Katniss calm voice saying, “I vote yes… for Prim.”

Effie inhaled sharply. To hear it recounted by Peeta and Johanna, and to actually watch and listened as it happened was two vastly different things. Peeta and Johanna could never accurately describe the palpable tension she felt as she watched the voting unfold. They could never relay with accuracy the play of emotions on Katniss’ face or the way Haymitch’s gaze sharply cut to his young charge.

It was at that moment that Effie pause the video. She felt his eyes on her, watching her move warily, waiting for the harsh judgment that she had constantly bestowed on him to pass her lips once more. She ignored all that, looking only at Katniss on screen.

There was something fierce burning in her eyes, something that spoke of revenge. Back then, Effie would not have understood what it meant but now, she was watching this with the background knowledge that Beetee’s and Gale’s trap with the double detonating bomb had been deployed without their knowledge and that Prim had ultimately paid the price for that. Effie was watching this now with the hindsight that had rendered her blind before.

Katniss was after Coin.

She understood that now, and she chided herself for never realizing that Snow would never have detonated a bomb with Capitol children in his mansion when he was clearly using them as shield for his protection, cleverly playing on the Rebel’s humanity to not hurt children no matter if they were from the Capitol.

“Haymitch, it’s up to you,” Coin said the moment Effie resumed the video.

She saw him looking intently at Katniss, never once taking his eyes off her. From where he was sitting, Peeta, red faced and clearly furious by Katniss’ decision, was trying to sway Haymitch’s vote to his side. He reminded Haymitch rather brutally the blood that would be on his hands. Still, Haymitch’s attention was only for Katniss and at that moment, the girl turned towards him, holding his gaze steady.

In that split second, they had managed to communicate something everyone else in the room was oblivious to. They had always had some kind of understanding that Effie could never hope to have. They understood each other without having to be vocal about it. It had started in the arena with the gifts and it had continued on to this penultimate moment.

“I’m with the Mockingjay,” Haymitch finally gave his vote.

Her breath hitched in her throat. If she hadn’t been sitting, she would have collapsed on the chair. Her knees felt weak.

I’m with the Mockingjay.

He wasn’t lying.

He had been telling her truth, always. He had not voted for whatever Coin was suggesting. It was not a yes from him. He was making a statement to Katniss and for Katniss. He was telling the girl he was responsible for that whatever she had planned, he would stand by her.

Peeta could not have told her this not because he was manipulating facts to paint his side in her favour. It was because like her, Peeta could not understand them. It was the same with Johanna. To her, he had voted for the Games.

They were telling her the facts they saw and thought they knew. It wasn’t Haymitch’s fact, and he didn’t need to tell her now. Her entire perspective had shifted. Right now, Effie was in a I + XI = X situation. Which would be incorrect, she thought unless she moved to see if from another angle, just as it was happening to her now.

She understood it perfectly. Haymitch always had his reasons for doing the things he did, even this, and she should have believed in him.

It was never about revenge against the Capitol. It was against Coin, and this was the only way to ensure Coin would not take Katniss as a threat until she could do what needed to be done.

The guilt bubbled in her throat knowing that in some ways, she had wronged him. She had always been in his corner... always, until now. He must have felt equally betrayed by her.

“The last advice I gave her before she went into the arena was to remember who the real enemy is. The girl had never forgotten that advise, not even when we were at the end. I never lost faith in Katniss,” he tossed her a poignant smile.

But she had.

Her heart ached.

Effie tried to say something but her voice cracked with emotion and she swallowed the words.

“Those publishers…. They gonna talk ‘bout who voted what?” Haymitch asked. “Not sure the masses would understand this.”

She heard what he didn’t say. She who had known him for more than fifteen years had not understood it when she first heard it, what more those who didn’t know him at all.

“As far as we know, this should be the only copy,” Effie told him. Her voice was strong and determined when she said, “histories are written by winners, aren’t they? We won. We can choose not to make this a part of the history book.”

“Doesn’t sound right,” he muttered.

She knew his misgivings about partial information but this was necessary if it meant she could protect Katniss and Haymitch, and everyone else. With that, Effie strode to the television, plucked the thumb drive out and tossed it in the fireplace.

The smell of burnt plastic permeated the air.

“It was meant to be confidential. It should remain as such.”

Haymitch nodded his thanks. She waited for the inevitable ‘I told you so’ but it never came. He didn’t even discuss what she just witnessed. He could tell that she finally understood and that was enough.

“I’m sorry,” she said because she had to.

And because she owed it to him.

The morning after, as they rode the elevator up to the meeting room in the Parliament together, she kept waiting on him to broach about what happened the night before but it never happened. Whatever she had wanted to say, she had already said it and whatever he needed her to understood, she should have understood it already.

He waited until she had boarded the hovercraft before he came after her, shooting her a passing look.

“Stop looking at me like that, sweetheart. You’ve seen what you needed to see in that video. There’s nothing else to say, alright? It ain’t on you that you didn’t get it back then,” he offered her a comforting smile. “Let’s just do what we got to do.”

What they had to do was to cross the 45th arena, a frozen tundra, off their list.

Flying overhead, Effie saw white wasteland as big as two footballs stadium spreading across and rough rock terrains made up the surface not covered by thick blanket of snow.

Haymitch stood by the partially open hovercraft door as it slowly made its descent with the collar of his coat turned up to ward off the cold.

"We could just melt it," he glanced behind his shoulder to look at her.

"It's your call. Without his next of kin, you are Chaff's representative."

He held out his hand and she passed him the rolled-up map of the arena. He studied it intently, brows furrowing together.

"This is the generator that keeps up the temperature," he inched closer towards her so she could take a look as well.

Effie had memorised the map but she indulged him, regardless.

"Yes. Beetee designed it for the Capitol at the Head Gamemaker's request."

"Turning it off will just melt all the ice caps and snow," Haymitch talked out loud, mostly to himself. "Arena's still gonna be there."

Effie stood next to him without saying a word, letting him run through the scenario on his own. It was likely that he already knew that melting would not work in destroying the arena completely. It was just a ploy to delay time from having to step into the arena.

"Ready?" Baron asked, knocking on the window of their hovercraft to get their attention. "Everything alright?"

Effie gave one last look at Haymitch before she stepped off the plane and into the cold climate. "Are the charges in place?"

"Yep, waiting on your word. Think they need some time to film this arena." Baron nodded to where Cressida was standing. "Heard it's someone close to Abernathy, yeah?"

"Yes," Effie affirmed without divulging too much. "Chaff."

"Right, yeah, seen them together on television a couple of times."

In the distance, Pollux was filming the Cornucopia when Effie noticed his camera turned towards the direction of the hovercraft where Haymitch had finally stepped off.

He walked forward, steps heavy and purposeful, leaving boot marks in the snow until he came upon the Cornucopia. Effie followed him quietly from behind. She had learnt to let him have his space during these moments, especially when it was an arena of someone he deeply cared about; to be there as a silent companion; to let him know that she was simply there.

It didn't take him long to come across the polar bear, lying lifeless on their feet. It can be brought to life with a simple charge of a battery embedded in its belly but right now, it had been turned off.

If she closed her eyes, she could see clearly the moment when Chaff's hand was bitten off by the mutt during their fight. As a young girl, that particular scene had given her nightmares for days but she could not tell anyone about it. She had been too young and had been forbidden from watching the Games but that had not stopped her from sneaking in to watch, just out of sight of her parents in their sitting room.

Her gaze fell on the long spear, the weapon Chaff had used to impale the polar bear during the final moments before he was crowned victor.

"That ain't real, is it? Tell me they didn't fucking preserved his hand," Haymitch growled.

"It is not," Effie assured him. "The make-up department was tasked to make it look like a real hand."

"I think he'd laugh," Haymitch said out of the blue, a comment that threw Effie off momentarily. "Chaff... if he could see this, he'd laugh and make some shrewd comment 'bout the hand not being accurate or whatever."

"Yes," Effie hummed in agreement. "Likely, so. He could never take things seriously."

"No, not even when he was reaped again."

Haymitch took the flask from deep within the black woolen jacket.

"To Chaff," he muttered, taking a drink. "Thanks, brother."

Brother.

Not 'buddy' like she had often heard them call each other. Brother.

He was Haymitch's family too. He had been his family from the moment Haymitch first saw him when he opened his eyes in the hospital after his own Games.

Effie had somehow expected him to say more but Haymitch had never been a man of many words. Silently, he gave her the flask.

"To Chaff, may there be plenty of ladies and plenty of drinks where he is," she said quietly to which Haymitch chuckled.

She tipped the flask back and grimaced as it burnt her throat.

When Haymitch sought her hand as they made the trek through the snow back to the hovercraft, she let him. She didn't let go of his hand even when the arena was blasted to bits.

Okay, more progressive things happened in this chapter so let me know what's your opinion on Effie's reaction towards the video, her understanding or their visit to Chaff's arena… Speaking of which, now that we've seen Chaff's arena, you know what this means! We're getting closer to the second quarter quell. Are you excited?

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #chaff johnson #wiping history

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