#and pop in to do some softie Sunday stuff! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nordicpoppie · 4 years ago

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BTS reaction to their S/O being obsessed with something

Oh man this took a while to do, i started it Tuesday but i kept getting stopped by stuff happening around me ughh.

I also got bitten by my cat last Sunday so had to visit the hospital and now I’m on 2 antibiotics the next 5 days sobs.

Only good thing about this is the many ideas i have gotten for reactions C:

Anyways, if you have criticism or ideas for reactions / imagines feel free to let me know!

Jin

Entering the kitchen you saw Jin standing surrounded by dirty pots and pans. Gasping you quickly tried to stand in front of them to shield them from his eyes, but it was too late. Jin gave you a small glare while he sighed, the amount of washing up you’d have to do.

Jin didn’t necessarily hate what you were doing, he just hated the work that came after. Watching you cook and serve good food for him was a big joy. At the start of you living together, he had been the one cooking the most, so when he had to work longer hours he had gotten worried.

Maybe you couldn’t make your own food, so he had to make extra the night before so you’d have lunch and breakfast at the very least. However you surprised him when you whipped out your collection of cooking books and your apron.

Stepping into the kitchen like you’d always been there to use it, he could only stare as he watched you whip out pans and pots like a professional. At the start you cooked relatively simple meals. But as you got more and more confident in the kitchen you started experimenting more and more.

Experimenting also meant using more utensils which meant more cleaning. Jin sighed lowly as he was washing the pans and pots while you stood next to him drying them. You knew he was a bit tired from work and you having forgotten to clean the pans and pots didn’t exactly help.

Making up your mind you grabbed his hand, dragged him away from the sink and towards the couch. You made him sit down and told him to wait while you made him some cocoa. While Jin rested on the couch you finished cleaning the kitchen.

Crawling up on the couch you snuggled up to him while you watched a movie and enjoyed the food you’d made earlier.

Namjoon

Exiting the car Namjoon looked to your side of the car to see you excitedly jumping up and down. You’d gone to the water park and swimming hall where you’d meet up with some of the other guys and their significant others.

You had been trying to plan it out for weeks and after that was even more waiting time until the date arrived. You had been beyond excited as it had been ages since you’d last gone swimming. Namjoon knew you loved swimming and water parks as you hadn’t spoken of anything else the last few weeks.

Namjoon was very happy to see you so excited, but he was also a bit worried if you’d get hurt on some of the slides or sharp corners in the pools. You however entered the swimming hall with confidence, finally feeling in your right element.

As the others in your group got tired and hungry, you were left alone with Namjoon, who insisted he’d keep an eye on you despite you telling him it was fine. He watched as you splashed around in the water, moving like a fish.

Deciding it was a bit boring with Namjoon just watching you dove, swam towards him and jumped up splashing water all over him. At first Namjoon was surprised and didn't know how to react, but once he got his bearings he grinned and started running after you.

You spent the rest of the time chasing each other and splashing water. When you got home you were both dead tired, and nearly fell asleep on the couch after having eaten dinner.

Yoongi

Walking into the apartment Yoongi was surprised to see dirt stains on the floor and hearing grunts coming from the living room. Thinking something bad had happened he dropped the groceries and rushed into the living room, only to see you balancing a heavy pot and a giant umbrella plant in each hand.

Yoongi continued to stare at you while you continued your grunting and finally placed the pot and the plant down on the floor. Finally making his presence known by clearing his throat you jumped a bit in surprise. Turning around you grinned sheepishly at him, you knew he’d be unhappy with the soil and dirt stains around the house even if you promised to clean them up.

Contrary to the complaints you thought you’d receive you heard another sigh, followed by Yoongi walking over and grabbing the pot and plant. Following after him as he started walking you watched curiously as he took them outside on the balcony and placed them down there.

He then turned to walk back inside, probably to start putting the groceries he’d dropped in his haste away. Before walking inside he stopped, and turned halfway, telling you to call him or wait for him so you didn’t have to carry the big pots and plants yourself.

After Yoongi disappeared inside, you continued replanting the plant, while giggling at his antics. He acted irritated only to offer you his help, typical of him. Later that day when you’d finished replanting and sorting out your plants, Yoongi returned to help you put them back.

What he didn’t notice was that you stopped helping halfway and started recording videos and taking pictures. Now you had proof that Yoongi was really a big softie and not an ice prince.

Hoseok

Hearing a ping going off from his phone he reached over to check the new message. He and the other guys were in the middle of a dance practice and his phone had been going off for the last hour with ping after ping.

Finally having a break from the dancing he could check who was sending him so many mentions and messages. As he unlocked his phone he saw your name pop up, followed by another ping.

Opening the messages he saw they were full of memes, including one of his favourite memes. Chuckling under his breath he scrolled through the memes and messages you’d sent him. Yoongi looked over when he accidentally let out a small laugh at one meme in particular.

Quickly shooting a small apology to Yoongi he got back to the messages. He looked through the memes he had saved himself, the ones he’d kept hidden for an occasion like this. He knew you’d asked for a meme war with the messages, and he was going to give you what you asked for.

At home you were waiting for Hoseok to answer your many messages back. Suddenly hearing a ping - ping - ping going off from your phone you rushed to grab it finding that Hoseok had accepted your meme war. You knew he had dance practice so you knew it’d be a short meme war, but it was better than sitting in silence waiting for him to come back.

A few hours later you heard the door open while you were sitting in front of the tv. You rushed out to welcome him and to tell him you thought you’d won the meme war. Hoseok obviously disapproved thinking he’d won so you ended up having a tickle fight until you surrendered.

Jimin

Jimin entered the library as silently as he could. He was carrying a giant bag of books that he had to return after reading them. He glanced around the library searching for your eyes as you’d promised to look for new books with him.

When he didn’t see you he decided to just turn in the books and text you afterwards, you could be running late or you’d gotten stuck in your favourite corner of the library. While Jimin turned his books in, he didn’t notice the door opening again as you entered.

You sneaked over grabbing his shoulders, making him shout in surprise. You giggled while Jimin blushed as a librarian looked angrily at the both of you. Jimin in turn to your giggling also turned to stare at you trying to look angry despite his blushing.

As he finished turning his books in he grabbed your hand and dragged you off to a more secluded area to find new books. While you were browsing he turned around suddenly, making you stare surprised at him. In his hands he had a book that had been reserved for the last 4 months.

Whispering a woah you reached for the book however jimmin quickly pulled his hand back smiling victoriously at you. Grumbling lightly you knew you'd have to wait till he finished the book before you'd get to read it.

Luckily for you both, you spent a lot of time reading, so he'd finish the book in a week tops.

Taehyung

Taehyung entered the apartment and was surprised at how quiet it was. Usually you’d come running from whichever room you were in to greet him when he came home.

It wasn’t even late in the evening, so he suspected you’d either gone out without telling him, or fallen asleep on the couch. You had after all been very busy with assignments and had finally gotten a hard earned break from school.

As Taehyung ventured further into the apartment, stopping by the kitchen to grab a cup of cocoa, he heard low humming from his studio.

He’d thought you’d gone out as he didn’t see you on the couch or in the bedroom, but he didn’t think you’d be in his studio.

Lightly pushing the door open, he sneaked a peek at you. You were standing in front of a big canvas, filling it out with light colours. While Taehyung couldn’t see your face, he knew you’d be in deep concentration, especially considering you didn’t even notice him coming home.

He decided to leave you to yourself while he went to make some sandwiches for the both of you. He returned shortly after and lightly knocked the door, hearing a small gasp coming from inside. Moments later the door opened and you jumped out into his arms, thinking he’d only just gotten home.

So when he grabbed your hand and led you to the dining table you were surprised to see sandwiches ready for you. As you sat down Taehyung finally got a proper look at you. He saw you had paint on your hands and you’d somehow managed to get paint on your cheek. Reaching over he wiped it off with a wet towel piece while grinning at you.

He thought he was the only one who could be so captivated by painting to end up covered in it, but you’d proved him wrong.

Jungkook

You entered Jungkook's room and immediately noticed how dark it was. The only light in there came from his huge monitor where he’d usually be sitting. His chair was however empty, which was very unusual.

Grabbing your chance you rushed to sit in the chair, grabbed the mouse and opened your favourite game. You knew Jungkook would be back soon, he’d only just gone out to take a call from Jin who was nagging him (according to Jungkook at least, everyone else knew it was for the best) to stop playing so many games.

Hearing a small sound from the headphones that had been lying on the table your eyes focused back on the screen. The game was starting so you had to focus. You quickly grabbed the headphones, turned the sound down a notch and started playing.

What felt like 5 minutes later the door was thrown open and a seemingly angry Jungkook entered. He grabbed the headphones off your head, and started telling you how you were ruining his streak. Finally glancing at the screen Jungkook was surprised to see you had won almost all the rounds you’d played so far.

Turning to look at you with mixed emotions he grabbed you off the chair and pulled you to your feet. He then dragged you off to Taehyung's room, barging in like it was nothing. Taehyung looked surprised when Jungkook asked where his old computer was.

Quickly grabbing the computer Jungkook dragged you back into his room, shutting the door and moving you to sit in a different chair. While he opened the computer and prepared the game for you, you could only stare in surprise. You’d thought he was angry, but he just wanted to play with you.

Many hours later you were still playing with him, much to Jins disappointment.

#kpop imagines #kpop #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #bts reaction #bts #BTS jungkook #BTS jin #BTS jimin #bts suga #bts namjoon #bts hoesok #bts taehyung #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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And For Once, You Let Go (Jankie) - Mumu

A/N: For @aqpippin as part of @atresia ’s song fic exchange! The song was You Are In Love - Taylor Swift. Also on AO3.

Summary: Jan wants to give Jackie the fairy tale confession she deserves.

Morning, her place

Burnt toast, Sunday

The first time Jan feels it, it leaves her breathless. It comes quietly, and once it dawns on her, something changes in the air. She can’t get rid of it. Perhaps she’s known for a while, or perhaps this is a cumulation of brief moments. Jan doesn’t know. She doesn’t know much, except for the fact that the feeling lodges itself in her throat, pulsing when she looks at Jackie.

She’s in love.

Jackie’s in the shower, and Jan’s sprawled out on the bed. As far as routine goes, everything is perfectly normal.

On Sundays, Jan closes the bakery for the day. She moves languidly, takes her time waking up. Some days they sleep in so late they skip lunch altogether, and they take turns making dinner.

Jackie has introduced Jan to so many Persian dishes from her childhood since she’s moved in, and learning how to make new dishes is something Jan looks forward to. She’s always in awe of how Jackie is so at home in the kitchen, how she somehow knows exactly how much nutmeg to sprinkle on lamb or how much vinegar to pickle the garlic cloves in without measuring anything out.

Today it’s Jackie’s turn again. She’s laid out all her ingredients already, an array of spices set out on the kitchen counter that promise a delicious meal.

For now, though, the sound of running water is steady, and Jan takes comfort in the sound.

In the beginning, when Jackie had first suggested they move in together, Jan had been scared out of her mind.

Dating was good. Dating was fine, comfortable even. She got to spend just enough time with Jackie to ensure her ball-of-sunshine energy didn’t slip or dim. That’s what everybody loved her for, anyway: her optimistic, bright personality. Even Jackie had told her that was what drew her to Jan.

But moving in together? She’d be around Jackie 24/7 then. Jan knew it wouldn’t be possible to keep that energy up all the time. Besides, even the people closest to Jan, like her mom or her friends, had at one point or another asked if she could tone it down just for a second, Jan, please .

Jan knew she had a tendency to be too much. She was too loud in the morning, too clingy with those she loved, too childish when she was sick.

Moving in with Jackie was a real commitment, a part of herself she wasn’t sure if she was ready to share. Jackie had always been patient with her, giving her the time and space to feel comfortable. But moving in was also something she was dead set on, and well, once Jackie got an idea into her head, it was impossible to talk her out of it.

Jan still wasn’t budging, so she’d done it sneakily. It started with staying over at Jan’s for sleepovers. They’d watch movies and Jackie would mix up some face masks, slathering it on their cheeks with the back of the spoon or their fingers. Jan would bake cookies, and they’d stay up all night talking like they were little kids.

At some point a night over became two, then three, until Jackie’s stuff had a designated spot in Jan’s closet. Her coffee mugs had found a home in Jan’s cupboards. It became routine for Jackie to drop by, even when Jan wasn’t home. Eventually, Jan had to put aside her fears and admit that Jackie should just move in.

And at the end of it all, when the last of Jan’s stuff had been packed into cardboard boxes and carried into Jackie’s apartment, Jan didn’t feel scared anymore.

How could she be, when Jackie was so good to her? She was always so gentle and made Jan feel so safe in her company.

“ Moosh moosh-am ?” Jackie calls.

Jan hides a smile at the pet name.

She’d tried to ask Jackie what it meant once, but Jackie had gotten all flustered, so she dropped it. A quick google search had translated it for her, anyways, so now she’s content with pretending not to understand to ensure Jackie keeps using it.

“Are you still there?” Jackie leans out of the bathroom, still tugging the hem of her shirt over her chest. Her hair’s wrapped in a towel, but a few brown strands have already slipped out and drip water onto her shoulders.

“Hmm?” Jan hums. She flops over on the bed, hangs her head over the edge. “You look pretty upside-down-sie.”

“You’re such a softy,” Jackie says with a slight roll of her eyes. She leans against the doorframe, fixing a warm gaze on her girlfriend. “Can you take the dough out of the fridge, please? It has to sit for thirty.”

“Putting me to work already, huh?” Jan asks, popping her gum.

Jackie doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow.

“Fine,” Jan groans dramatically and heaves herself into a sitting position on the bed with a groan. “But you know I’m only doing it ‘cause I lo-”

The words get stuck in her throat. Jan inhales too abruptly, chokes on her spit. She coughs, rolling off the bed to land on her feet again.

“Shit, you good?” Jackie scrambles over to pound her on the back. “Don’t go upside down while chewing gum like that, you’ll choke.”

“No, yeah. I’m fine, I’m fine.” Jan recovers, still flustered. “Must have- y’know. Inhaled dust or something. I’ll go get that dough.”

She stands and shuffles over to the kitchen, stiffly going through the motions. The inside of her mouth tastes sticky despite the minty gum, and her hands are shaking slightly as she pulls out the saran wrapped dough.

What the hell was that? Jan’s heart pounds in her ears. She stares at the mound of dough with wide eyes, panic coursing through her.

“Thank you.” Jackie drags out the words, coming up behind her. She wraps her arms around Jan’s waist, nestles her chin into her shoulder.

Jan jumps at the sound of Jackie’s voice in her ear, taking a sharp inhale out of surprise.

“So jumpy today.” Jackie murmurs. She untangles herself from around Jan, putting her hands on her hips. “Alright, let’s get started then.”

Good. Okay. Jan blinks, tries to steady herself. It’s just the late-June heat getting to her, that’s all.

She pours herself some water and drinks it, trying to wash down the strange feeling rattling around in her ribcage.

One step, not much, but it said enough

Jan calls Gigi up the next day, first thing in the morning with the taste of her almost-confession still on her tongue.

Gigi agrees to breakfast straight away, no questions asked. It’s like the other girl can hear the urgency in Jan’s voice, the little tremor when she says it’s about her and Jackie. Whatever the reason, Jan’s grateful for how quickly she says yes.

Surprisingly, Gigi doesn’t bombard Jan with questions the second she slides into their booth at the restaurant. It’s a cute little place– a diner they frequent often– and ordering takes virtually no time at all as they both rattle out their usuals. She’s grateful for the grace period.

Jan’s halfway through her pancakes when Gigi finally cuts off her casual rambling.

“So did you and Jackie, like, end things? Cause, no offence, but I’ll literally kill you. You guys are perfect for each other.” She tears a croissant into half and poses the question around a mouthful.

“What?” Jan sputters out a shocked laugh. Her voice is a little too loud and she winces, tries again. “Absolutely not, where’d you get that from?”

“Babes, you called me all panicked and told me you had to talk to me,” Gigi says slowly. “About you and her.”

“Oh,” Jan says. She pushes a bite of blueberry pancake into the puddle of maple syrup that’s collected on her plate. “Oh, yeah. That does sound bad, doesn’t it.”

“Duh,” Gigi laughs. She pauses, taking a sip of her iced tea. “So if nothing’s going bad , then what’s the problem?”

And there it is. Jan clicks her tongue and drums her nails on the table, stalling as she tries to think of how to phrase her next sentence.

“I almost said I loved her yesterday.”

Gigi beams at that news- “Wait, are you kidding? That’s great!” -before collecting herself. She leans in, less excited after realizing the worry Jan said it with.

“Wait, I don’t get it. You do love her right?”

“Have you and Crystal said it yet?” Jan deflects, asking another question instead of answering.

“I mean, yeah. Like two weeks ago now, I think.” Gigi shrugs.

“How did you know when to say it?”

“I don’t know. It just felt right?” Gigi pops a chunk of pastry into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

Jackie nods like she understands, tapping her fork against her bottom lip. She casts around for an excuse for why it isn’t as easy for her as it seems to have been for Gigi and Crystal. There must be one. She’s not crazy, right?

“I feel like what we have now is really great. I don’t want to scare her off by saying anything stupid.”

“Jan, Jackie is totally head-over-heels in love with you. There’s no way that’ll do anything but bring you two closer.” Gigi rebuts, unconvinced.

Jan just hums, not trusting herself to speak. Her voice has frozen in her throat, and that’s not a factor she wants to deal with while she’s talking to Gigi, who picks up on everything.

“I think I know what your problem is,” Gigi says bluntly. She drains the last of her iced tea, before setting it down on the table and declaring with finality, “You’re worried about making it perfect like you always do.”

Jan cuts at her food to give her hands something to do.

“You watch too many romcoms. You’re putting this crazy pressure on yourself to, like, measure up to Hollywood scripts. But that’s not real life, y’know?”

Jan bites at the inside of her cheek, the taste of metal blooming in her mouth.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, that’s the point of it,” Gigi continues. She stops, notices that Jan’s attention isn’t totally on her.

“Jannifer-” She takes the knife and fork from Jan’s hands. “-Quit murdering that pancake and listen, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Sorry, doll.” Jackie clears her throat and wipes her fingers clean on a napkin, still not meeting Gigi’s gaze.

“Do you love Jackie?”

The way she says it, it’s not really a question but more of a statement for Jan to agree to. Even phrased like that to make it easy for her, Jan still isn’t sure she’s ready to speak it into reality. Her eyes dart, feeling like everyone in the restaurant is listening in on their discussion.

“Jan?” Gigi prompts.

“I’m- I, um, need to use the bathroom. Excuse me.” Jan stands up, nearly knocking her drink into her lap at the sheer force of it. Her chair scrapes against the floor, too loud for her liking, and she practically sprints into the restroom.

She presses her palms flat on the marble countertop. The cold surface against her skin is enough to scramble her already overstimulated mind, and Jan forces a breath in through her nose, tears prickling behind her eyelids.

Why can’t she do it? Jackie deserves the world, as far as she’s concerned, and yet Jan can’t even put her feelings into words for her.

Jackie’s going to get tired of waiting for her to grow the hell up and say what’s on her mind. And when she does, Jan will have fucked up yet another thing she loves, because that’s what she does best.

Once the idea of Jackie leaving her takes root she can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop imagining scenarios. When it happens, Jackie might scream, or yell, or cry. She might go silent, start icing Jan out until there’s nothing left to keep them together. Either way, she’ll end up all alone again, and her apartment will feel twice as big because she’s gotten used to the warmth of Jackie’s presence.

There’s a spark of anger too, as irrational as it is, that tears through her at the realization that Jackie’s the reason she caved in. If it were up to her, she’d have kept Jackie at arms length, perfectly safe, where she can’t be harmed by Jan’s inability to be a proper adult in a proper adult relationship.

At some point she ends up on the floor, back pressed against the counter, and now she stays like that, curling her torso closer into her knees. Jan hears the door open, and a panicked sounding ohmygod from Gigi.

“Jan, honey, it’s okay.” Gigi sits down next to her. “Take deep breaths for me.”

Jan heaves a breath in and out through her mouth. “Sorry, I- god, I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Gigi says. She works her fingers into Jan’s hair, braiding little sections in a calming fashion.

“Relationships are hard. The first time Crystal kissed me I, like, totally freaked out and ghosted her for a few days. Major dick move, don’t recommend.”

Jan laughs despite herself at that. She rests her head back against the counter and looks up at the ceiling.

“Do you think it’ll get easier?”

It’s quiet for a few moments, the hum of the electric lights keeping them company. Jan’s pretty sure Gigi has forgotten about the question or isn’t going to answer her when she speaks again.

“I think,” Gigi bites her lip, considering her words carefully. “I think you’ll get used to trusting someone that much. I don’t know if it’ll be easy, but it’s a process.”

More silence. Jan tongues her teeth, feeling the smooth enamel, unsure whether or not to speak.

“We just have to trust it?” Jan says. The question hangs in the air, drawing a noise of agreement out of Gigi.

“Do you know what Jackie said to me after we moved in together?” Jan asks, before ploughing on, not waiting for an answer. “She told me, just because you’re independent doesn’t mean you have to do it on your own all the time.”

Gigi still doesn’t speak, just lets Jan talk.

“And I think- no, I know she’s right. But it’s still weird, y’know? She’s so good to me and I want to do that for her.”

There’s a pause. “I don’t know why I can’t.”

“Don’t rush yourself because you think she deserves it, hun. That’s not fair to either one of you.” Gigi says.

Jan just sighs, makes a little hum of acknowledgement.

“Yeah. This was so much easier in the movies.”

Gigi snorts, shoving Jan with her shoulder. “That’s what you get for watching those heterosexual pieces of trash all the time. Unrealistic expectations.”

And Jan lets her say it, doesn’t throw back a jab about how if anything is disgustingly cheesy it’s Gigi and Crystal’s pet names they have for one another, because she knows this is Gigi trying to help her through her feelings.

“Let’s finish our food before they think we dined and dashed,” Jan says simply, and considers that growth.

You can hear it in the silence,

You can feel it on the way home

Over the next few months, Jan tries to say I love you many times. It never comes out smoothly.

The feeling isn’t so daunting now that she’s been living with it for a while. It’s a companion, a constant rattling in her ribcage that gets stronger and louder every time Jackie leaves a sticky note with a smiley face on the lunch she takes to the bakery.

She practices saying I love you to the mirror in her room, fascinated with the way the words sound and the way her mouth moves to shape them.

Some days she gets scared that she’ll never be able to voice it, that it’ll be trapped inside her throat with nowhere to go and no place to call home forever. On those days she sits for hours on the balcony while Jackie sleeps, just watching the city go by.

These things take time, Gigi had said, so give them time .

Be patient with yourself, her mom tells her, when Jan calls her up. You’ll get there .

Jan repeats those words of advice so often they seem to become part of her, swirling in her bones and in her blood. She imagines they float around her like an aura as she moves through the days, folding into her cake batter along with the butter and sugar. Trusting that when it’s right, she’ll know.

And you understand now,

Why they lost their minds and fought those wars

Today, Jackie’s come in to help Jan out in the bakery. It’s holiday season now, which means more customers and more work. Jackie’s already found an easy rhythm working the cash register, greeting guests with a warm smile and comforting air. Jan feels like everything in her life is coming together in the best way, wrapped up in a pretty bow.

She pulls a fresh ray of lemon cookies from the oven, setting it on the rack to cool. Jackie immediately leans over, trying to swipe a cookie under the guise of kissing the powdered sugar off of Jan’s lips.

“I saw that, Jacqueline,” Jan scolds, tapping Jackie’s wrist in an attempt to get her to drop it. Jackie takes a big bite anyways, trying to chew through the pain when it scalds her mouth. Jan laughs in response. “That’s what you get for stealing.”

“You’re a cruel woman, Jan,” Jackie teases. She offers the other half of the cookie to Jan, who takes it from her.

“For someone that used to track all our expenses, you’ve become quite lenient with eating the profits away lately,” Jan bumps Jackie’s hip with her own, turning to hide a smile as she pops the remainder of the cookie into her mouth.

“What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me,” Jackie replies.

“Hmm.” Jan hums. She catches Jackie trying to swipe another cookie out of the corner of her eye and pulls the rack away from her girlfriend before it happens. “Ah-uh. I don’t think so.”

Jackie pouts, wiggling her fingers at the rack. “Jan, it’s just one, please?”

“Sorry, can’t let you eat them all.” Jan doesn’t even spare a second glance at Jackie, turning back to whipping up another bowl of batter. “Go back to the register. We can have the leftovers after closing.”

“I can’t believe I’m being bullied,” Jackie whines. She does as she’s told though, trudging back to her spot at the counter.

Jan bustles over to the coffee machines, pressing a few buttons. “Shut up, you know I love you.”

It rolls off her tongue light and airy, just like her cookies, but the aftertaste catches in her throat regardless.

Jan stills, pausing with her hands over the coffee machine. Nothing in the atmosphere has changed, the air still warm and easy, the lingering taste of lemon still full bloom on her taste buds. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, scared to look at Jackie.

“Do you-” Jackie comes over again, hovering around Jan, unsure of where to put her hands. “-Do you want to say that again or did I hear you wrong?”

Do you think it’ll get easier? That was the question she asked Gigi half a year ago, when she had been scared of this foreign thing that had started living inside of her.

“Huh? Jan-” Jackie asks. Oh, she said that part out loud.

“-I can- um. Should I go back to the counter?”

Over the speakers, the song changes into something with a bit more kick.

“I didn’t mean that,” Jan says. Wrong answer. Jackie’s face falls, and the thing inside Jan twists around her lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“No- wait, no, Jackie.” She speeds up, words falling into each other. Her hand slips from the mug and it crashes onto the floor, spraying coffee onto her jeans. “Hold on, that’s stupid, I’m not- fuck, I’m not scared.”

“Okay,” Jackie says, quiet, like she understands what Jan is trying to say. Maybe she does. She has a way of getting Jan like that.

“I’m, I-” Jan’s hands shake and she sticks them into the pockets of her apron to hide it.

“You don’t have to,” Jackie says, when Jan starts talking and stops again, like a fish, or somebody drowning underwater.

Jan shakes her head, so hard her earrings jingle. She taps the toe of her combat boots on the ground, counts to five, and then to ten. Then to twenty, because she’s chicken.

“I love you,” She blurts.

“Okay,” Jackie repeats, then louder, again, like she senses Jan needs to hear it back. “Okay. I love you too.”

And then it’s done, and it makes sense, all of a sudden. Jan throws her head back, laughs with her whole body, and Jackie looks at her, half in surprise and half in curiosity.

“I’m an idiot,” Jan says, by way of explanation. “ God , Jackie, do you know how long I’ve waited to say that?”

Jackie stares at her. She blinks rapidly, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Are you crying?” Jan asks, her voice pitching higher at the sheer absurdity of it all.

Jackie sniffs and swats at Jan when she swoops in to hug her.

“Stop, go away, let me be an emotional wreck in peace.” The effect is decidedly ruined by the way she dissolves into laughter at the end of her protest, but Jan appreciates the effort.

So they just stand there, and Jan’s smiling with her forehead pressed against Jackie’s, all watery and loving. Jackie pulls her in closer for a kiss, Jan practically melting into her. It’s salty from both of their tears because they’re both crybabies, and Jan wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tonight, when they get home, Jan will make lasagna with her nonna’s recipe.

Jackie’s already prepped shir berenj for desert, and they’ll have it with the bottle of red wine that’s been sitting on the top shelf, waiting for a special occasion just like this. They’ll sit on the balcony until late in the night, safe in each other’s company.

Things won’t be perfect, or easy. Not now, maybe not ever.

But Jan’s okay with that. She’s okay with figuring things out as they go. Especially since it now comes with the promise of Jackie at her side, steady and comforting and loving Jan for every part of who she is.

Because she’s in love.

And wow, how badly she wants to scream it into the city, so that everyone knows about this magical thing that has come into her life, with such reckless abandon. It’s feral and wild, and it cuts up the soft parts of her sometimes, but that’s okay because Jackie’s here to help her heal.

Like: it’s far less terrifying when she knows Jackie loves her back.

Like: they live here, in this time and this place, with each other, and that is enough for her.

Like: she’s in love. True love.

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #jackie cox #gigi goode #jankie #s12 #lesbian au #fluff #domestic #and for once you let go #mumu #concrit welcome

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kootenaygoon · 5 years ago

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So,

Before changing ownership a decade previous, Tony’s Taphouse had been a biker bar called the Civic. Notorious for its rough clientele and routine bouts of violence, and for harbouring regulars who acted like nocturnal animals, most locals knew it as the Zoo. It had been the preferred haunt for the Hell’s Angels, who had long since been banned from the premises.

“It took us a long time to turn things around,” my boss told me one night, while I manned the door for a Val Kilmer and the New Coke concert. A crowd of twenty-somethings were smoking all around us.

“Whenever we tried to get people to behave they’d say ‘don’t you know this is the Zoo?’ And I would say ‘yes, and I’m the new zookeeper’.”

My boss reminded me of a small child in an enormous body, slightly immature and with a propensity for breaking stuff. He had a reputation for overdoing things, to the point that the Nelson Police Department had nailed him for multiple assault charges. The other bouncers told me he was well known for choke-slamming unruly patrons into unconsciousness, which was the reason he was no longer allowed to assist us when we ejected the city’s shitheads and drunks. The guy was easily 300 pounds, and scary as hell when provoked. The rest of the time he was an amiable teddy bear, quick to laugh and always game to sing “Chocolate Salty Balls” from South Park at karaoke, much to the chagrin of his embarrassed wife.

Most of my shifts were spent alongside a fellow ginger beard named Luke who liked playing bad cop to my good cop. During the day he worked at a pet food store, and he was well-known as a huge softie when it came to animals. While I had a tendency to treat Tony’s like my own personal Cheers, he was monosyllabic and ominous. Late into the night we would hang by the entrance swapping jokes and taking turns shovelling back lettuce wraps and chicken strips, clad in all black.

Eventually I suggested we should update our uniforms. There was a local barber named Chris Brach who bounced at Spiritbar and I admired how he dressed and carried himself like an old-school gentleman. We ultimately settled on matching vests with dress button-down shirts, with each bouncer choosing their favourite colour. I chose a blood red that was almost purple, while Luke went with sky blue. Eventually the whole team adopted this new look, making the whole place that much classier.

Working at Tony’s gave me a whole new perspective on Nelson. I knew who was doing drugs, who was cheating on their spouse, and who was banned from the premises until they came grovelling back to the owners. The Nelson Leafs were preening and omnipresent as peacocks, and in the early hours of the evening I’d encounter the more wholesome members of society as they engaged in events like paint night. Sometimes people would approach me with the latest issue of the Nelson Star, commenting on stories or complimenting me on the cover photo. The print edition was becoming increasingly irrelevant, but Tony’s was one of the few places I could regularly see people consuming it alongside their beer.

From where we stood during our shifts, we looked out at a sports bar that took up the ground floor of the Adventure Hotel. Because we were open later than any other establishment in Nelson, we would watch as the late night crowd funnelled in our direction. Crowds of drunk twenty-somethings would march diagonally across the intersection, ignoring the cross-walks, and it was our job to interpret whether or not they could come into Tony’s based on their lurching gait. Some would nod solemnly when we denied them access, while others would whip themselves into deranged frenzies. They would scream their threats to the uncaring black sky, or demand to talk to the owners. These people pissed me off.

“You’re a good bouncer and everyone loves you, but the other staff have told me you have a tendency to go from zero to sixty pretty quick,” my other boss told me, during a performance review. She was the owner.

“We don’t think it’s a problem, but it’s something we want you to watch out for. Obviously this job can be stressful at times, so it’s up to you to keep your temper in check. It’s about customer service.”

Though there were plenty of threats of violence at Tony’s, it was rare that we actually had to put our hands on people. Most were cowed into submission by our size, and knew they had to play nice if they wanted continued access to the bar. We tried to kill them with kindness, calling them cabs and reassuring them that they’d be welcomed back once they sobered up. More than once I found myself consoling despondent drunks who were horrified by their own behaviour, going through a break-up, or grieving. Some were so confused and inebriated they didn’t know how to get home. I came to love these idiots, or at least most of them, because I considered them part of the Tony’s family.

The most interesting employee was a behemoth brute named Gordo, a holdover from the days of the Zoo, who looked exactly like a bearded Bobby Baccala. The female staff adored him because of his gentle, benevolent presence. He made people feel safe. He wasn’t a bouncer anymore because, like my boss, he’d gone overboard a few too many times. He lived downstairs and oversaw the daily operations, and was only called to help during emergencies. He was the type of guy you didn’t want to fuck with, ever. He loved Tony’s and everyone on staff intensely, and if violence was needed he was more than capable of dispensing it. I’d never met someone with such a fascinating mix of kindness and malevolence to his personality, and I admired how effectively he funnelled his anger in appropriate directions.

One night, during a slow period, he stood out on the street and regaled me with stories of his bouncing days in Toronto. During those years he’d been stabbed and shot multiple times, a fact he delivered with a shy chuckle.

“This one guy was shaking my hand, right? And with his other hand he stabbed me right here,” Gordo said, pointing to his rib cage.

“So I pulled him close to me and snapped his elbow backwards, just like this.”

Gordo recreated the scene with a smile on his face, demonstrating how the guy’s arm had bent the wrong way while the bones snapped and popped. He’d regained control of the situation while the knife was still plunged hilt-deep into his side. He laughed and wiped his eyes, remembering.

“I was a lot bigger back then, if you can imagine that. So the knife didn’t end up doing much damage. It didn’t hit anything significant. Meanwhile this guy’s a puddle on the ground in front of me, whimpering like a little girl.”

When I wasn’t on the door, I would work my way slowly through the lounge area and out to the back patio where people were allowed to smoke. There was a row of comfortable couches and a long counter where people could pull up stools and drink under the gaze of Elephant Mountain. At times I couldn’t believe I was being paid to socialize, and the dance floor playlist introduced me to a new favourite artist: a young Swedish woman named Tove Lo. If we’re talking body, she sang, You got a perfect one so put it on me. If you do me right, we’ll fuck for life, on and on and on.

Paisley had finally moved home to be with her parents, and her absence had proven to be a boon to my mental health. I still missed my dogs desperately but I was finally free to move on without her constant surveillance and gossip. I decided early on that I wouldn’t date anyone on staff, but there was no shortage of young women who would find excuses to linger by the door or stand outside smoking, sizing me up. Most nights I was still ending up at Natalya’s, where I would crawl into her bed and cap the night off with an early morning fuck in the dark. She’d leave her front door unlocked and we’d pant through our routine without speaking a word. She’d resigned herself to the fact I wasn’t interested in anything beyond that, and she never bothered me with small talk. We had what we had, and that was it.

The sleep deprivation involved with working at Tony’s ended up meaning that I spent most of my weekends asleep, recovering in Brendan’s basement and only leaving the house for necessities. Sunday was my only day off, and I needed that down time to get in the right headspace for the Star. I had a couple of ambitious series going on, including one about the Columbia River Treaty, and I needed my mental faculties operating properly to adequately approach these subjects. I could sense that Ed was growing tired of my rock star attitude and reluctance to put in a full 40-hour work week. I kept finding myself asking why I was still there, but I didn’t have another option available. Both jobs and housing were scarce in Nelson, and I was barely holding on.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” I told my friend Tia one night. She worked at the Hume Hotel but had started her own business called Wurst Dog. We’d been discussing whether I could find some sort of entrepreneurial gig to transition to once I was finished with journalism.

“You just have to take a chance and jump, kid,” she said. “Then see where you land. I’m sure there’s all kinds of people in this town who would give you a job doing social media or something.”

“Or maybe I could be a full-time bouncer and write on the side? Finally finish my manuscript? I dunno.”

Tia smiled and mussed my hair.

“I believe in you,” she said. “You’ve got this.”

The Kootenay Goon

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wevegottogetaway · 6 years ago

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The one where it didn’t go as planned.

Lazy Sunday mornings were y/n’s favorite. Sundays when both her and Harry’s schedules were clear of social commitments or family get-togethers, and they devoted their time to changing linens, making laundry and cuddling the day away while catching up on The Great British Bake Off. Maybe sharing a bath if the mood called for it.

The house would always be filled with music, the vintage phonograph proudly installed by the fireplace never dormant for too long. They had acquired quite the vinyl collection over the years, what with them being so passionate about music. They did first meet backstage at a Fleetwood Mac concert after all…

As she walked into the master bedroom absentmindedly humming the suave notes of Etta James’ I’d rather be blind, y/n was welcomed by a serenade of bird chirps wafting through the window Harry had left opened. The curtains were swirling under a light breeze, letting a few beams of sunlight invite themselves into this loving home.

Spring was back, sending its best ambassadors to greet the souls drained from the sullen days of Winter’s reign. Y/n found herself yearning for a quiet stroll in the park to absorb a bit of this atmospheric positivity. It would have to wait after housework duties, however.

Laundry basket tucked at her side, she started picking up the clothes that were still roaming around the room. Harry and her weren’t a messy couple per se, but the madness of the past week had left the two of them so knackered, by the time they’d step foot in their bedroom they only had energy to undress and collapse on the bed in a dull slumber.

That’s why y/n reveled in those days off where her to-do list remained blank. They were rejuvenating and gave her a chance to bask in Harry’s company, something she’d never stopped longing for, even in the craziest of worlds. No matter how hectic life could get she always knew what was awaiting her at home: 4 years worth of loving support and blissful happiness.

That doesn’t go without saying they’d hit a few bumps in the road of course. Times where distance became overwhelming, where their lives never seemed to quite coordinate and they basically had to juggle with work commitments and holidays to see each other on the regular. It transpired in rushed and desperate mid-night Skype calls or petty arguments stirred by frustration and longing. Their love never wavered under the pressure though, they knew they were together for the long-run. The one that was made of enchanting promises; the one that opened the path to a peaceful yet passionate sense of belonging. The one that eventually led to happy-endings.

Once the room was clear of any lingering clothes, y/n started heading towards the en suite bathroom. That was until her eyes caught sight of a sock that had slithered its way under the bed. Retracing her steps, she knelt down on the carpeted floor to grab it expecting to find its twin sister further in. She frowned when she couldn’t find it and stood back up.

It was a pretty rare occurrence in this household, but y/n absolutely loathed the solitary-sock syndrome. It just irked her in the same way she hated it when one of her earbud wouldn’t quite adjust like the other. Determined to find the missing item, she went though the half-full laundry basket but found herself even more disgruntled when she came up empty-handed. Letting a small sigh, she took another glance at the clothes-free room before her eyes landed on the dresser by the window.

Of course they had a walk-in closet where they stored all of their clothing; because let’s be honest, a single dresser could never fit all of Harry’s suites and shoes. With that being said, they still had a chest of drawers in the bedroom to keep undergarments, nightwear, and other comfort clothes. Y/n begrudgingly made her way over to it and opened Harry’s sock drawers thinking the sock might have fallen down from a previous laundry batch.

She kept rummaging and scouring the entire drawer for a lonely fellow sock, only stopping when her fingers came in contact with something sturdy. Y/n frowned once again as her fingers brushed its velvety surface. Elbow-deep in the drawer she couldn’t see what it was, so she took it out.

All her irritation dissolved once she looked at the small box resting in the palm of her hand. Her breath hitched, sending her heart hammering for more oxygen. It couldn’t be what she was thinking, right? Truth be told, the idea wasn’t that far-fetched. They had been dating for a few years and had never been in a more stable place than they were now. The situation didn’t feel any less surreal to y/n though. While they were confident they were each others’ ‘it’, the topic of marriage had never been brought up.

Y/n would be lying if she said she had never thought of it herself; but it had always been one of these ‘one day’ thoughts. Short scenarios she’d conjured up behind her eyelids during those few minutes of altered consciousness right before joining dreamland. It’d also flashed through her mind when she’d watched her best friend get married, Harry’s arm thrown on the back of her chair, his fingers intertwined with hers. He’d then looked at her with a soft smile and kissed her temple tenderly. She could still feel him smiling against her skin.

Now she didn’t know what to do, her sock hunt completely dismissed. Should she open it? Make sure she wasn’t drawing up crazy (yet delightful) conclusions? Should she ask him about it? Act like she’d never found it and look surprise when he did popped the question?

She hissed a quiet "fuck" as the whirlwind of thoughts going through her head started overwhelming her. She was caught in a stage of half giddiness and half confusion; ultimately happy by her finding but lost on how to deal with it. She was so deep in thoughts contemplating what was the right thing to do, that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Nor Harry’s voice echoing from the hallway.

"Hey babe, do you know if we got any Windex left, I can’t find it anywh-" his raspy voice faded as he entered the room and took her in. Or more like what was in her hand. Much like she did, he let out a quiet expletive before running his hand through his hair.

She got pulled out of her trance once she caught his nervous habit in the corner of her eye. Turning to face him with her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure what, she just stared at him. Just like her, he was wearing casual clothes, a rag thrown over his shoulder. He looked fidgety, nervous, and so unHarry-like when he spoke up.

"Y/n, I…" It turned out he didn’t know what to say either though. Instead he slowly walked towards her, gulping as he came right in front of her. His hands went automatically underneath her forearms like his brain didn’t need to command his body to carry out the action. The silence was deafening as they indulged in a spellbinding gaze. And then she spasmed out of it, words tumbling out of her lips one after the other as she frantically reached for his hand to give him the box back.

"Shit Harry I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to go through your stuff. I just couldn’t find a stupid sock so I thought, you know, maybe I’d find it in there. But they I felt something solid between your socks and I didn’t know what it was until I pulled it out. And I didn’t look inside I promise, I just…I’m sorry." She exhaled rather harshly to punctuate the end of her rant, wide eyes begging for him to say something. Harry softy chuckled, somewhat endeared by her reaction. They were still standing very close to each other, foreheads almost touching.

"It’s okay, love… Guess I got busted." He was full-on smiling in that way that made her belly tingle. Eyes so fucking bright and lips stretched slightly more on one side like he was trying to tone it down a little as to not look like a beaming fool.

Y/n was still in a semi daze, unsure of where the situation was going and looking at him with those doe eyes he liked to lose himself in every night. Harry then cradled her waist with the hand still holding the box and cupped her jaw with the other. Then after licking his lips unfazed he started talking.

"Don’t know what I was waiting for really…S’not like I have any doubts."

"Harry-" Y/n almost interrupted in a quavering voice. Suddenly she got the feeling she knew where this was heading and it made her nerves go out of whack. Her eyes dampened slightly and before she could add anything Harry’s voice filled the room again.

(it’s really worth listening I swear https://youtu.be/zdHh_D_b5xU)

"I’ve had it for weeks. Just thinkin’ about how to ask ya, tryin’ to come up with something good, something perfect, ’cause you’re worth everything and than some." He was getting quite emotional himself, voice weakening on the last word and Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle breathlessly as she wrapped her hand around Harry’s neck pulling him that much closer to her.

"But it’s never been like that between us, has it? Never been about where I take you to dinner or how exceptional we made the special days, hum?" His thumb was caressing her jaw, encouraging her to answer.

"No" she whispered, "they are special because it’s you." Harry’s smile stretched once more, and he carefully leaned his forehead against hers. Closing his eyes for a moment, he let the hand he kept around her waist slid up to rest on the side of her shoulder.

"You know I fell under your spell on the day I met you at that Fleetwood Mac gig. The way you were swaying to Crystal with those sparkling eyes of yours, I was...entranced." Harry started swaying from side to side as he indulged in the memory.

"I love that song" Y/n muttered as she was transported back to that day too.

"Know you do, love. You looked so beautifully happy. Then it was like the song was written for me, for that moment…" he kissed her forehead before he started humming quietly.

"Do you always trust your first initial feeling

Special knowledge, holds true bears believing

I turned around and the water was closing all around

Like a glove, like the love that had finally, finally found me"

She’d joined him on the last line, tightening her hold around him. She suddenly got an intense feeling of serenity. Surely she should have been going nuts, right? Harry was proposing but all she could think about was how right it felt. How there was no place else she’d rather be and how she wouldn’t change this moment one bit if she was given the chance.

It’s like Harry said; they didn’t need a nice dinner or a special gesture to make their moments unforgettable. It was all in the rawness of their words, the tenderness of their touch and the love in their eyes.

She sniffed as he cleared the fervor off his throat and they both laughed at how much of a mess they already were. Then he withdrew his hands from her cheek and slowly knelt down before clasping her hands with a knowing smile.

"4 years ago I got that first initial feeling that you’d be an important part of my life. I just didn’t know how much. But after I got to know you, your kindness, your strength, your smile…your little quirks" they both laughed, eyes crinkling so hard they forced tears out of their confinement. "I knew with my whole heart I could never let you go. And I think you did too because ever since then we’ve stayed true to each other and never stopped believing in us. Through the hard times, the painful ones and the bitter ones, you’ve stayed and supported me a little bit more everyday. You make me feel brave and self-accomplished. Like I can appreciate everything life has given me because I have the one person I’m supposed to share it all with by my side. You’ve found me, love. You’ve found me and if I have any say in the matter, I’ll never let you go. So Y/N Y/L/N, would you please give me the honor of being your husband?"

The small box was opened then, and Y/N couldn’t tell which was shining the most: the beautiful ring or Harry’s emerald eyes. She didn’t hesitate before pulling on the hand that was still in hers so that he’d stand back up and bringing her lips to his own. Kissing turned out to be quite the challenge, they were smiling too much to do anything really; but they still couldn’t let go.

Then Harry suddenly leaned back, incredulity widening his eyes. "Fuck!"

"What is it?" she asked urgently.

"I didn’t say I love you" he said in disbelief. "Can’t believe I just proposed to you without saying it."

Her head fell on his chest as she started laughing. "Such a dork." She then leveled her head back to his, though really she had to look up because of the height difference. She was met with a pout that she tried to sooth by cupping his cheeks lovingly. He was having none of it though.

"Hey…You didn’t even answer me. A ‘yes I’ll marry you and I love you Harry’ would have sufficed just enough."

He wanted to hear her say the words so badly, Y/N couldn’t resist him. She never could. "Harry, I love you so much there are not enough albums in the whole world to describe it, and really, I would be the one honored to be your wife."

They kissed properly this time. Lips fervently molding against each other like they were trying to translate all the words said for the past minutes into soft gasps, noses brushing and tongues sweeping. They were also getting handsy, Y/N’s hand flying in Harry’s hair while his were…actually busy holding the fucking ring. So once again Harry drew back first with a frustrated frowned plastered on his flushed face.

"Fuck, come ’ere an’ let me put this thing on your finger so I can kiss you proper" he said urgently. They both leaned away just enough so that he could slide the diamond at its rightful place before Harry was throwing the empty box somewhere on the bed. When he cradled her cheeks again she was examining the new addition to her hand with a dreamy smile. Then she was looking up and kissing him again.

They kept making out until they were out of breath, basking in the afterglow. They weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend anymore; they were fiancés. It seemed flower blossoms and warmer days were not the only changes this spring was bringing.

"Hey Harry?" y/n softly asked bumping her nose against Harry’s.

"Hmm?"

"Will you go on a walk with me?" she whispered.

After that, the laundry could wait.

➪ Masterlist

#Harry styles writing #Harry styles one shot #creative writing #harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #+2k #first piece #please tell me what you think #hope you like it

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secret-rendezvous1d · 7 years ago

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A Christmas Blessing

DECEMBER 2ND, 2017.

Omg please do more Persephone and jack for blogmas!! I am in love with them. Maybe something where jack and P are out shopping and they split up in a department store and Jack starts walking around and looking at engagement rings and H and the missus go over and have a little chit chat with him?

The second addition to Blogmas 2017 is here! I haven’t written a lot of stuff to do with Persephone as an adult, nor have I done much including her significant other, Jack, so it was nice to give you an little insight into their life and the sweet relationship bond that they have. So this one was really lovely to have a play with and write about. Thank you for sending it in!

Feedback is welcomed, as always.

Enjoy. xx

Jack was up before his phone blared out his alarming wake-up call. An alarm that Persephone hated to hear, filling their small Southampton flat, at six o’clock in the morning on a week-day. Because, to her, no one should ever be up before seven. Never falling short in pushing herself away from his comfortably warm side and tugging the duvet with her as she rolled onto her side, burying her face, deep, into her pillow and grumbling heavy goodbyes to him as he left for his morning classes. Reaching across to the bedside table on his side of the bed and switching his alarm off to save them from being rudely interrupted by an obnoxious horn. The bright, and rather unusual, December sunlight peeking in through the slits of the cream-coloured blinds hanging down her childhood bedroom window, an upgrade from the striped pink curtains that used to hang down to the floor, casting a yellow haze around the room. His eyes blink open, slow and lazy, removing the cloudy vision creating a sheen over his brown orbs.

Throughout the night, after sleep had been induced by drinking too much of your popular mulled wine and feasting a meal that could have fed everyone in Hampstead, Persephone had managed to cosy herself closer to him. A leg swung over his hips as she cuddled further into him, trapping him in her hold. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder, tucked against his warm chest as it rose and fell. She’s snoring, rather comfortably, because she’s always had the fear of him finding it the least bit attractive, with her buttoned nose pushed against the stubble that sprouted his flesh.

Reaching a hand up from where it was perched on her hip, his t-shirt no longer covering up her torso and having risen up through the night from her tossing and turning, the duvet sliding down his arm and exposing it to the cold air, his fingers delicately moving strands of her hair back from her lips, tucking them behind her ear in order to not have a hairy kiss. He licks across her top lip, feeling a blush crawling up his neck as his body instinctively reacts to her touch, squeaks and little hums filtering to his ears from her slightly pursed lips, pasting several wet pecks on her mouth before drifting down across her chin and up and over the supple mounds of her cheeks, brushing his damp lips across the tip of her nose. Up the bridge and on a path across her creasing forehead.

“Mm, good morning,” she murmured sleepily, cracking an eye open and sending him a warm smile, “mum and dad are in the next room, you know? As much as I love some morning love before our days begin, I don’t want to risk them walking in and seeing you hitting home base. That happened once and, well, we both know how that turned out. We had a day-long lecture on safe sex which was awkward for every single one of us,” she pushed his face away from her and grumbled, “your morning breath doesn’t smell so good either. Is it possible to have a hangover from mulled wine?”

“By the way you were knocking those glasses back, I’m pretty sure it’s a possibility,” he chortled, nudging his nose into the base of her throat and peppering kisses to the space between both of her collarbones, “think your dad was a bit worried. Kept glancing at me through the night. He’s quite, uh, he’s quite scary when he does that, isn’t he? I think he was telepathically scolding me for not looking after you.”

“You get used to it after a while,” Persephone grinned, lopsided and toothy and much too similar to her father’s, “he’s a big softie really, my dad. He’s very protective, thought, and you’ll probably hear him scold us more than ever because we’re all old enough to have a glass of wine with our Christmas dinner this year,” she cackled, head rolling back against her pillow. And he ceased it as an opportunity to attack her neck with rougher pecks. Sucking on the skin below her ear and eliciting a string of soft moans from her throat. Fingers raking through his pillow-messed hair, “it’s your first Christmas here. Dad gets really festive. Especially during the week building up to the twenty-fifth. I can guarantee you that he’ll have Christmas music playing when we go down for breakfast, wearing a hideous jumper that he wears every year, making gingerbread pancakes and cutting them into tree shapes, even though we’re not kids anymore.”

Christmas tree-shaped pancakes, flavoured with gingerbread and cinnamon, became a Christmas tradition, every Sunday throughout the month of December, when Darcy and Rose were old enough to consume solids. Filling the house with a delicious aroma of pancake batter and gingerbread that always made the house feel warm and toasty. A rather tall pile of awfully cut out tree-shaped pancakes, that Harry had slaved away making throughout the hour of waking up, sat in the middle of the empty dining table, surrounded by bowls of strawberries and blueberries and bananas as well as bottles of syrup and a can of whipped cream that has become Alfie’s favourite.

“Think we’ll have traditions like that when we’re married and have kids of our own? I’ll make the pancakes, I think, because you can barely make scrambled eggs,” he teased, his cheeks flushing pink as she grinned, “we’re got some right gruelling stares from the neighbours when the smokes alarm went off. I still don’t think we’re their favourites.”

“Of course not. I’ll buy us the best house. One close to London so we’re near your parents but also close to Southampton so we’re near my parents and they can commute easily to see us. One that has a lot of bedrooms and has the best scenery and a back garden for our kids to play in. And I’ll let you take over the interior because you’ve a decorative eye,” he said softly, sitting up and twisting himself around to face her, crossing his legs into a pretzel shape, leaning back on his palms, “heck, I’ll even build us a house, if you want me to. Your dream house. That you have full control in decorating. As big as you want it. Wherever you want it. Whatever you want, I’ll be satisfied with. A happy wife means a happy life.”

“You’re the best boyfriend ever, do you know that? An absolute treasure,” Persephone tittered, reaching over and squeezing his knee before hauling herself up to her feet, stepping off the mattress and stretching her back, arms pushed into the air as the t-shirt on her body rose up and showed a little stomach. A delighted groan mewling from her lips. “We should probably start getting ready if we’re going to hit the shops before it gets busy.”

By the time they’d made their way out of the busy tube stations, said hello to the few people who had recognised them in the street, dodged a few paparazzi and hid themselves from those who were eager for pictures - just to claim they’d met and seen Harry Styles’ daughter and her boyfriend and were able to make headline news in the following morning’s papers - and eaten a delicious breakfast in a café just outside the front of the rather large shopping centre, she was already insisting they split up for the 3 hours before lunch. Bouncing on her heels and rocking on her feet as she took in the surrounding shops; from a large, and brightly lit, Gucci store to a retail Debenhams store to a cookery school under the name of Jamie Oliver to a store that Jack knew had Persephone written all over it - Lush. An excited grin on her face, making two dimples pop on her cheeks, just above the corners of her lips, because she felt at home. This was where she spent her youth. Her teenager years. This was where she spent her pocket money and her birthday money from her grandparents and this is where she came with her dad when it was close to your birthday. This was where Harry took her as a young girl to spoil her rotten, just like he would do with her siblings. It was full of her favourite stores and she was sure, if it was even possible, she’d move in and claim the centre as her property.

She disappeared, into the crowd of bustling shoppers, in the blink of an eye.

The touch of her lips still lingered on his from the delicate kiss she’d pressed to his flesh. The sound of her sweet voice that, only just, bid him a “see you soon” still fresh to his ears. The weight of her bag, that hung on his shoulder throughout the journey on the tube, was no longer weighing him down once she’d whipped it from him to check she had her purse within her possession. He tried to search for her, to look for the top of her head, to see her brightly coloured, and frilly, knitted jumper amongst the crowd of coats and bobble hats and jackets, but to no avail. Clueless to where she’d gone, he stumbled around and tried his hardest to buy some more gifts for her, despite the already large gift-bag full of wrapped goodies he’d found and ordered offline. He popped into shops that had a few trinkets that he knew she would love to see on Christmas day morning. Brought more than enough bath bombs and a basket full of her favourite bath-fizzers and face creams and masks from Lush, that he knew he’d be ruled into using with her; which, he couldn’t ever deny, felt amazing after an early start, a stressful lecture and a cheeky study period that he took to finish off his essays, back in Southampton, come the new year.

He’s not entirely sure how he ended up in a jewellers.

More specifically, he’s not entirely sure how he ended up in the engagement ring section of a rather quiet jewellers in the middle of Westfield.

He was only just window-shopping and looking at a pair of white trainers, under the specific brand that his girlfriend wore, as he scuffed passed... but a glisten of a diamond, encrusted onto a ring, caught his eye as he shuffled passed the shop and, well, what harm could one look cause?

Proposing to Persephone had been on his mind for a while now. Passing thoughts at night, when he was tucked up in their too-big bed with her, his warm feet keeping her cold feet warm, legs tangled up beneath the duvet, in a cuddling position that made him think that a single bed would have still had plenty of room either side of them. Early morning thoughts that usually peeked when he took one glance at her whilst he was getting himself dressed and ready for the day, when she was sprawled out on her front, with one foot hanging over the edge of the bed and the other bent up, and dressed in one of his thick hoodies because their tiny home got cold through the nights, and, she just liked to smell him as she laid cosy. He usually found his mind wandering when he was midway through his classes, head lulled to the side and resting upon his palm, thinking about how he would pop the question and where he would pop the question and what he would say for the build-up. Where they would get married, when they would get married, who they would get married surrounded by.

He loved her. He really did.

“We have many a boyfriend come in and take a look at our engagements rings around Christmas time. Is there anything I can help you with, sir?”

Jack spun on his heels and smiled softly at the elderly lady, dressed in a maroon coloured shirt with the store’s name printed on the breast, with glasses on her face and a motherly feel to her. Shaking his head softly.

“I’m just looking, thank you,”

... for now.

Jack had always thought that taking his end-of-year exams, entering essays and and partaking in large presentations in a full lecture hall would be the most nerve-wracking events that he’d accomplish in his life. He wasn’t the most outgoing guy and he was never the most memorable face in a crowd full of people. He was never surprised when his peers, sitting around him in his university lectures, forgot his name and he was never surprised when they looked at him with pure shock because he'd said more than two words to them. He was shy and reserved and kept himself to himself, most of the time, and never spoke up unless he really needed to. Only ever letting loose in front of those he felt comfortable with and that never ranged further than his group of friends and his girlfriend, who had lovingly stayed by his side, regardless.

He never thought, any time soon, that he’d be asking for her hand in marriage. Agreeing, internally, that asking for a marriage blessing was up there, on his list of things that made him feel anxious, with presenting a presentation, by himself, in front of a lecture hall and turning over the first page of his exams.

He took the opportunity whilst Persephone was out with Alfie; he’d been insistent on needing help to buy a present for his girlfriend and he felt his sister was the most trusting, with a keen eye on what teenage girls would love to get as a present for Christmas. Worrying his bottom lip, between his teeth, nibbling and chewing on the already bright pink flesh, before he’d even left the comforting confinements of the bedrooms four walls. Appearing in the kitchen entryway with shaky legs and knocking knees, a nervous smile sitting upon his lips.

“Is there anything I can help you with, YN?” He pondered in the kitchen entryway, as you looked over your shoulder, “I’m a little unoccupied without Persephone here. Thought I’d come and offer some helping hands.”

“Oh, thank you. I think we’ve got things under control, for now, sweetheart. There’s not much needing to be done. I’ve just put some cakes in the oven, Harry’s out in the garden getting a little more firewood for the fire, the twins are both out with friends. There’s a new film out in the cinema that they wanted to go and see. And Alfie and Persephone are going to stop off and get a chippy tea for dinner tonight, if that’s okay with you?” You informed him, his head nodding up and down, “how was your day?”

“Busy. I never thought London got as busy as it was today,” he chuckled, taking a seat at the dining table and crossing his ankles over, “but, it ended up being rather successful, too. We got some last minute gifts for everyone. I think I’ve done alright getting presents for Persephone. She’s really hard to buy for.”

The back door creaked open behind him, being nudged open by a booted foot, before he heard a deep puff of breath, as Harry made his way into the warm house. Fingers pale and cheeks chill-bitten and bright pink, eyes watering from the sudden pick-up of wind that howled around the trees blew leaves across the patio. A hefty pile of firewood in his arms that Jack took to helping him with. Standing to his feet, rapidly, and reaching for a couple of logs that were soon to fall from Harry’s cradle, carrying them in his own arms. A wordless thank-you being given in the form of a curt nod and a tight smile.

“Oh, goodness, tell me about it. When she was a teenager, she would always shrug when we asked her what she wanted,” you laughed, spinning on your socked heels to point him in the direction of where to place the logs for later that evening, a finger direction him through the conservatory door, “she has Harry, here, going crazy in the middle of the shops because he has no idea what she would like.”

“She’s loved every present I’ve brought for her, though. She still uses that old film camera I gave her, too. It was a present from a dear friend of mine who died a while back. Matt, his name was,” Harry explained, clearing his throat with a grunt as he bent down to drop the logs into a metal basket beside the log burner, “took it everywhere with him. When I toured with the band I was in, when we went out sightseeing together, when we had photoshoots done and such. She’s used it every opportunity she can and I think he would have been glad, maybe proud, to know his equipment was going to people who loved taking photos as much as he did.”

“She’s got a true talent for photography. We’ve got loads of photo albums, back in Southampton, of photos she’s taken from when we go out. Whether it’s nights out or when we go for a walk or when we spend time at the beach and stuff. I never know why she didn’t pursue it into something more,” Jack said, siding up to you once he reentered the kitchen and reached for the coffee mug he’d been using throughout his stay, “would you like a hot drink? Let me make them.”

The kitchen fell quiet.

All except the ticking of the timer on the cooker, as it counted down from twenty minutes, and the whistle of the kettle that he’d flicked on, seconds ago. Clinking the mugs together as he brought them down from the cupboard, dropping two teabags into two and adding a spoonful to the third. Trying everything, and anything, he could to keep his mind away from the nerves that ate away at his insides. But, no matter what he did, the both of you could easily see something that was bothering him. Sharing glances to one another before looking back at him as he stood with his back towards you, every so often adjusting his own tracksuit bottoms or rolling up the sleeves of the jumper that hung down his torso, his attention focused on the back garden.

“What’s on your mind, lad?”

Jack swung around, eyes wide, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

“Uhm, I,” he stuttered, “is it that obvious?”

“Sweetheart, if there’s anything we can help you with, you can tell us. Yeah? We’re all family. Okay, we’re not properly related but, you’re our daughter’s boyfriend and we like to think of you as another one of our little clan,” you smile warmly in his direction before taking a couple of steps to stand beside him, squeezing his hand softly, “whatever it is, we’re all ears for when you want to tell us.”

He gave you a soft smile and nodded. The kettle coming to a boil as he lifted it from it’s dock.

“Uh, there is something I want to, hum, that I want to talk to you about, actually. Now that Persephone isn’t here,” Jack stated, focusing his mind on his shaky hand as he poured hot water into the three mugs on the counter. Harry’s eyes furrowing as you stood to the side and wracked your mind. “It’s nothing bad, I promise you. Nothing. Everything has been going so well between us. It’s just, there’s been something on my mind for the last few days, made clearer today, and I just need to talk to you about it as soon as possible.”

The spoon tinkles in each mug as he stirred the water. A rather strong aroma of coffee wafting up, in a thick puff of steam, as he stirred Harry’s drink up. You took strides across the kitchen, stepping in front of the fridge to pull out the milk from its slot in the door, sliding it across the counter and watching him, curiously, as he unscrewed the red cap and poured a little in your mug and a little into his.

“Sweetheart, sit yourself down. You’re shaking. What are you so nervous about?” You reach for the spoon to take over, bumping him to the side and insisting, with your eyebrows, that he took a seat beside Harry, who had kicked off his boots and slipped his socked feet into his old and worn-out grey slippers that he’d been wearing since the morning. You finished off the teas, adding a couple of spoonfuls of sugar to the caramel-coloured warm drink, giving them a final stir before rummaging through the cupboards for a tray to carry them on. “What’s the matter? Come on now.”

“What’s going on between the two of you?”

“I love her,” Jack whispered, looking at his hands, that sat upon the grey material of his tracksuit bottoms, as he picked at the hang-nails and cuticles of his thumbs, “God, I love her so much and I don’t have a ring yet, because I wanted to do that after I received your blessing, your permission, but I have one in mind because I’ve been looking in shops and such but, yeah, I don’t have it physically. Your permission and your blessing means a lot to me. I found an engagement ring today, when we split off to buy presents for each other, and I knew it was what I wanted to propose to her with. It’s gorgeous. Just like her. And, God, I love her. I love her so, so much. I didn’t think it was ever possible to love someone as much as I love her. She makes everything worth it. She makes me feel like I can do absolutely anything. That I can conquer the obstacles because she’s by my side and helping me out. And I promise you,” his voice shook with the nerves that ran havoc through his veins, lifting his head up from staring at his hands and forming eye contact with Harry before sending a shy smile to you, “I promise you that I’ll take care of her. I’ll try my hardest to make sure she never feels alone. That she never cries because of me. That she never has a reason to feel heartbroken or like she isn’t loved That we always make each other happy. She’s my best friend and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to grow old with her and I want to have kids with her and I want to be able to give the both of you grandchildren. I want to find us the biggest house, the house of her dreams, that she can decorate and make it her own, to live in and I want the rest of our lives to start as soon as possible because I’m so excited at the thought of her being the one that I get to wake up to everyday. That I get to- that we get to be there for each other, properly. Persephone is it for me. She’s the one for me. And I just wanted to ask, for your permission, or your blessing, if I could, you know, if I could have her hand in ma-”

“Do you even have to ask us, mate?” Harry laughed, the booming cackle interrupting and cutting Jack off from finishing his speech. Because Harry already knew how it was going to end. He’d been through the exact same process. Thinking through everything that he was going to say to prove he was worthy of your hand in marriage. Feeling nervous as he sat before the parents of the woman he wanted to, so desperately, marry. Gushing his heart and soul to them to show, just how much, he really wanted it. Reaching a flexed hand, decorated with his signature rings, across the dining table and smiling brightly when Jack took it. A flush of relief washing over the 22-year old as he puffed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “She’s had a fair share of bad relationships in the past. And it hurt to see her come home, upset and broken, because she’d had her heart torn to pieces by a boy that she really liked. You came along and we haven’t had to worry about that. She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her,” he tore his hand away and brought it back to wrap around his coffee mug, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip before placing it back down on the coaster, “and that’s what any parent wants, well, what every parent wants for their kids is for them to be happy. For them to be comfortable with themselves. For them to know what they’re doing and for them to take risks. For them to enjoy life without worrying about all the little things.”

Harry’s heart thumped and thumped and thumped behind his ribs. A smile on his face that came as a result of the happiness and the touch sadness that succumbed him. His daughter had found her man. She found her future in a man who she’d met, not so long ago. She found the person who made her smile, who made her heart triple in size whenever she looked at him, who made her radiate love and glow with ethereal beauty that Harry, and yourself, hadn’t seen from her before. He looked across to you, his smile spreading wider as he bumped his knee to yours, his free hand wrapping around yours and squeezing it tightly.

“You’ve truly made her the happiest we’ve ever seen her, sweetheart. It feels lovely to not have her come home heartbroken, carrying the pieces of her shattered heart in the palms of her hands, and in need of a cuddle with one of us, because a boy took advantage of her,” you admitted, reaching across the table, in a similar fashion to Harry, and squeezing his hand softly. Fingers wrapping around his as he smiled warmly in your direction. “We couldn’t think of a better person to have her, Jack. We can’t think of a better person to say yes to. To give our blessing to. You’re such a determined and motivated young man and you’ve been nothing but incredible with Persephone over the last few months. With her graduation happening, officially moving into your first home, struggling with her troubles in leaving home.”

“Not to mention, you’ve been an absolute treasure to her over the last few months, as well. Helping her with her own problems and getting her started with her first website and getting her started with her career, regardless of going back to finish your final year at university. I know it’s hard because we’re so far away from you both and can’t help her as much as she may need, but,” Harry nodded to himself, “you’ve been so great with her. You’ve had our blessing from the moment we first met you, Jack.”

A face splitting and cheek aching grin spread across his face, “really?”

“Really, really,” Harry smiled.

“When do you plan on doing it?”

“I was thinking in the new year. Maybe on New Years Eve or something like that. It’s cliché, I know, but we’ve always been into that. She's never said anything but I think it’s the perfect time to pop it. Start the new year, engaged. I still need to buy the ring or put a deposit down for it, so, that’ll take it’s time,” Jack admitted, “it’s beautiful though. It really is. I wish I took a photo to show you.”

“Let me buy it for you,” Harry offered, abrupt and sudden, “the shops shut in an hour. I’m sure Persephone and Alfie are on the tube home and getting dinner. We can-”

“No, no. Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Jack shook his head, “thank you for the offer, but, I couldn’t ask for you to do that. It’s too much. You’ve welcomed me into your family, your home, you’ve allowed me the privilege of being with your daughter and you’ve given me a blessing that I feel honoured to have. I couldn’t ask of this.”

“Then at least let me help you get started? Just a small deposit to help get you on your way,” Harry hummed, “I have money going to waste, Jack. I don't know what to do with it anymore. Let me help you.”

“God, Harry, thank you. Thank you so much.”

“We should be thanking you, lad,” Harry stood to his feet and reached over, clapping Jack on the shoulder with a gentle hand, “thank you for making her the happiest she’s ever been. Thank you for making her feel as supported as she could ever feel. Thank you for loving her as much as we do.”

#one direction preferences #one direction imagines #harry styles imagines #harry imagines #harry blurbs #harry styles blurbs #1d harry #1d harry styles #blogmas 2017

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daddyconfessions · 6 years ago

Text

daddy’s journal: 2/17/16

previous journal entry 2/10/16

I slid the curtain to the side just enough for me to see the parking lot. I killed the lights in the room to mask my silhouette as I looked out. I’m at a semi-cheesy motel. Kimberly, my new exotic dancer friend, told me to get a room there. She’d be along shortly. I was smoking one of my Cohibas. Usually I don’t smoke when I’m about to meet ladies, but I knew there would be no kissing Kim. After a few minutes I sat down in front of my laptop & began writing this journal entry. I had a feeling Kim would be late.

It’s Tuesday evening but felt like Friday already. 30 hours ago I was sitting in my office when my phone rang. It was Pops, my boss, calling me to his office. As I walk past all the vacant offices of the recently slain I can’t help but feel I’m next. Am I a dead man walking?

I close the door behind me and sit down across from him. “Pops” is cool. He’s 7 years younger than me. He’s been to black strip clubs, likes rap including Jay Z, UGK and Big Sean. “Well I’ll just get right to it,” he said. He leans back and puts his feet up on his desk. My financial life flies past my eyes and I get nervous. “We’re doing salary reductions,” he says. He spent a few minutes explaining why then said, “Everyone over $100k gets 11% and everyone under gets 6%. I tried to fight for you but the board want’s to continue to cut costs so we can remain viable.” I make a scene like I really care. And appear visibly upset. But really I’m not. I got my side business going. I’m good. The cut just means one less vacation we’ll take this year.

I walk out keeping up my disappointment ruse and head back past all the empty offices. The layoff has left it bare and quiet. Boring even. I flop down behind my desk. I got some tumblr DMs from Muffin to answer and some messages from this new girl I’ve met on SA. I call her Bubbles. With the layoff it ain’t much to do though I pretend I’m super busy. On the way home Kimberly texts me. We’ve been texting since Sunday. She wants to get a room but I’m not in the mood. I go home, grab a glass of wine and watch some Love and Hip Hop to get my mind off things. Nothing clears the head like reality TV. I swear I’d marry Cardi B if I could. And Muffins keeping my DM lit up. I decide to move her to text.

The next day I keep up the texting with Muffin. I like her. She’s cool, sweet and definitely has some game. I like that. Pops comes by to make small talk but its just bullshit. He just wants to know if I’m still mad. I let him know I’m good even though I’m down to one direct report now. I hate corporate America. That afternoon Kim hits me again. She’s aggressive. “Can we meet tonight baby?” Throws in a couple of pics. “Yes,” I reply. A few hours later, I’m sitting here typing away at my keyboard. Cohiba in my mouth. I hear a car pull up and rush over to the window. It’s a black BMW. 4 series. Can’t be too old. New shit. Kim pops out the passenger side. Whoa. I go back and close the lid on my laptop and turn on the lamp. She knocks at the door, I open, and she walks in smelling like a bag of weed. The BMW she rode up in is parking. Probably her pimp. Sigh. That’s the game in these parts. Pimps have their girls working the clubs turning tricks and what not. Kimberly’s fine af though so I’m going to have to overlook this little situation.

I put out the cigar and we hug and chit chat briefly. She’s all business though. She strips down to nothing in less than 30 seconds. I salivate at the thought of licking that pretty ivory skin all over. But it’s not to be done. No oral contact. I quickly undress and lay on the bed. Kim pulls out a condom, puts it in her mouth and slides it on Bartholomew all in one move. She gets comfortable in between my legs while she licks here, there, and there. Its ok. Would be better without the latex. I ask if she can take it off. Offer more $$$ even but she says no. After a few minutes I’m hard a as a rock. Mostly from looking at Kim’s voluptuous body. Damn sure wasn’t from that dry ass knowledge she was giving me.

I get on top, enter, and pound that 23 year old muff. Sadly it wasn’t exciting as the Saturday before in the champagne room. I was going to cum quick until I felt her get wett. She wrapped them creamy thighs around me tighter and dug her fingernails into my back. I got turned on and for the next few minutes I felt like a King all back in touch with my 21 year old self until I came. I laid down while Kim jumped up and went to the bathroom. She came back with a warm towel and pulled off the latex. Then she did something unexpected. She ran her tongue along my dick. Lawd have mercy. I almost passed the fuck out. I was looking at her with this frown/half confused look on my face and she smiled and chuckled as she cleaned me up with the wet towel. She went and disposed of the latex and then came back and laid on the bed with me. Surprised me with that shit. With a pimp in the car I knew the clock was ticking. Sure enough she jumped up after 2 minutes and started getting dressed. I barely had my socks on before she had walked over, gave me a hug and left.

It was fun but not the thrill like the champagne room. I save my journal entry and kill my laptop. I’ll finish typing after the fact. I head home, answer a few tumblr posts and text Muffin. We’ve setup a potential date and I’m looking forward to meeting her in a few days at that point. Before I go to bed Bubbles texts. I kind of had blown her off. Her pics on her profile were of this drop dead gorgeous model looking chick. I’m thinking no way this chick is real or maybe she’s a flake. Like a mind reader she randomly text saying its her in the profile. Cute. Half hour later we have a date for Thursday. I love it when things move along.

I met up with Firecracker Wed. afternoon. Things have been different between. Now that I have my perspective back I’m good. I’ve decided to get back to just enjoying our arrangement for what it is. Since then I’ve been over my puppy love. Firecracker has always been a complete turn on for me so I quickly undress her, ready for that kitty. I’ve had some anons asking what about FC has me going crazy. One thing is she’s consistent about her body and looks. That stuff’s always on point. Always smells fresh. Skin softy and creamy. Not sure what lotion she uses but it smells good. The kitty doesn’t even smell or have taste…well there was this one time I could swear I tasted vinegar. Body always clean. Toes. Nails always done. If she’s not wearing some cute ass outfit…she’s wearing some cute ass outfit. LOL. Hopefully some of you will get that.

20 minutes after getting into the room we’re laying beside each other panting, sweaty. The sex has been different lately too. Not sure if it’s me or her or a weird combination of things but sex is definitely more sensual. Ironic since I’ve decided to back off all the drama. We talked about her leaving this summer, her new boyfriend and several other things. All that talking got me hot again. Bartholomew was hard as a rock. I started kissing on her as she talked. At first it had no affect but then her eyes started closing and she stopped talking on occasion as I kissed all the spots I knew she liked. Then I made my way down her body to the kitty. I kissed her inner thighs and ran my fingernails along her legs and up her body to her breasts. I followed it up with kissing all the places my fingers had been until she just stopped talking altogether. I went to the bathroom, got a warm towel and came back and cleaned her up from round one.

Firecracker actually cums a bit. Then I started all over again, kissing her neck, sucking on her breasts, working my way down to the kitty. Before I did I kissed the thighs again. I went back to the kitty and sucked the clit while I thrashed it with my tongue. Then I did some side to side motion while I sucked the clit. She came in less than a minute. I put on the hat and slid back in for my second course. I don’t know what had got into me but I pounded that pink little muff like It was new to me. I’d love to tell you I fucked her for another hour but nah. I came quick, 5 minutes tops.

Time got away from us. She needed to get to her life. I needed to get back to mine. How it’s supposed to be really. As we got dressed she told me she bet I was going to go and fall asleep in my office since I had cum twice. I told her probably not. She had me all confused with them young boys. A couple of hours later I was in my office with the door closed, dozing off.

I texted Lala late that afternoon down in Miami. By the end of the night she hadn’t responded. She had been feeling some type of way about sugar and vanilla relationships. She wasn’t sure what she wanted. I started to text again but I let her make it. She has my number. She’ll hit me when or if she’s ever ready. Meanwhile Muffin’s keeping me distracted. You would think the conversation would haven’t gotten boring but nope.

The next day I woke up in a good mood. The week was crazy and judging by the signs of it, had no intention of getting better. By Midday Muffin and I were blowing up each others phone. Shit, I almost forgot about the date with Bubbles until she texted to confirm. We met at a swanky restaurant that evening. Lots of upscale patrons and what not. I was a little on the fence about meeting her there. She could be a catfish and I’d be fucked for an hour sitting across from some hound puppy looking chick. But I was wrong. Bubbles walked up living up to every pic I’d seen of her. I was like

Skinny girl. But pretty af. Dam if I didn’t feel like a stud as I entered the restaurant with her on my arm. We sat out on the patio. It’s early so not a lot of people out with us. Two chicks are at the table next to us but other than that we’re alone. Bubbles was simply refreshing from the start. We laughed and talked about all kinds of shit. I had forgot what it’s like to be out on a date having fun. Turned out she was half Dominican with a 25/25 mix of some German and Dutch lineage.

Right before the food came I realized the two women at the table across from us were touching each other and holding hands. I told Bubbles and she giggled. “I know. I’ve been watching them the whole time.” We both laughed then she said. “I’m bisexual.”

I stopped laughing.

We talked about her sexuality but we had to lower our voices because another crew came to the table behind us. Some grown ass women too. 30’s. And they were all up in our table. At one point I had turned to look behind me and one of them locked eyes with me. Good looking chick too. Mature 35, 36ish. I could fuck with her. Then I thought about all the lies I’d have to tell. How I wasn’t married. I got my own place blah blah. Fuck that. I’ll stick with the sugar.

The food came and went. By that point I knew she had a newborn at home and a baby daddy. We also went over the arrangement again. She wanted per meet and I was cool with that. Seems like that’s what most girls are wanting these days. She was open to something more structured and committed down the line. I told her we could do another date or two to loosen her up. And then she dropped the bomb on me, “Um. We can go ahead and get started tonight if you like….” I was like

40 minutes later, we were naked kissing each other as we fell onto the bed. Her body was flawless. You would have never known she had a baby. No stretch marks whatsoever. I started down towards the muff. “Great,” she said, smiling at me. “I’m multi orgasmic.”

And indeed she was. I started licking on the clit and she looked at me with that “Oh you know what you doing” look. I stopped and got her a pillow and put it under her head so she could watch the show. She wasn’t watching though. She was cumming left right for the next 10 minutes as I licked that clit mercilessly. She literally had a fit the whole time. When she came the first time she grab one of my ears and damn near twisted it off. The second one she squeezed my head together with her thighs. The third she grabbed the top of my head and squeezed it like a basketball as I slurped. The 4th … nevermind

She stopped me and told me, “ I want to taste it baby…” We kissed…well she sucked my tongue then ran her tongue all over my lips, jaw and chin, trying to taste her own kitty and savor the flavor. I put on the condom quickly and dove right in. All carpe diem and shit. But that that kitty was tight af. She loosened up a little bit but my gosh. She was tighter than frog’s ass. We went at it for a few minutes before she stopped me and asked, “You want to finish off in my mouth baby.” Why yes. Yes I do.

I laid down and she pulled off the hat and went to work. Man she had some good knowledge. She licked the shaft, tip, balls and then repeated the cycle a few times before concentrating on Bart completely. Man, those full lips and suction had me going. I tried to resist, holding back my cum but I couldn’t. Before I knew it I let go the hot protein treat into her mouth. She took it all in, every drop. Then she jumped off the bed and went to the bathroom. Not sure if she swallowed or spit. I was out of it. Bubbles came back and laid down next to me. We talked about how good it was to have met. How much we both hoped things would work out and we’d see each other again. We both vowed to at least give it a good try.

Outside we hugged and said goodbye. She didn’t want me to walk her to her car but I had to. It was kind of dark in the parking lot. When we got to it I could see why. Man, that little Honda had seen better days. First it was little, the hood was off another car and the bumper looked like someone had scrapped the paint off it. “I’m so embarrassed, “ she said, putting her hands over her face. “Its no big deal baby,” I told her. And it wasn’t. I’m a car buying motherfucker. And I let her know as much. She was all smiles. We hugged once more and left.

The next few days I mostly talked to Muffin. I asked Bubbles out for that Saturday but she rescheduled for Sunday, Valentine day. Surprisingly. I thought she was blowing smoke until we were actually sitting in the restaurant sipping margaritas. Mama had her hair up in a bun in jeans and t-shirt now. The wife and kids were gone to some kid shit functions so this was a good little getaway for me. I couldn’t’ tell you what the hell we talked about to be honest. It was a lot of shit.

At the end of the brunch she grabbed my hand and told me how great a time she had. How she hadn’t expected it to be that fun. Me neither really. As we left the restaurant the hostess stopped her. “Oh my god, you’re soooooo pretty,” she said. “I just wanted to tell you. I saw you when you walked in….” and she went on for another half minute. It seemed like some lowkey lesbian stuff. Typical man reaction I guess.

Outside we started talking again. But I know she had to go pick up the young’in. So we hugged and kissed good bye. Lots of kissing. Lots. Damn, mama didn’t even care if we was outside and could be seen. I liked that shit too. Sugars supposed to be fun, exciting, thrilling. And Bubbles was delivering on every point.

I won’t get too excited about Bubbles. I know the game. In 4 weeks this could be all over and I’m like Bubbles who? As I drive home, checking the mirror for lipstick, I get a text from Kim with a few pics and the question, “Can I be your Valentine?”

It never ends.

#sugar tales #daddy's journal

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