#could be convinced by converse and charcuterie as well
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alasarys · 8 months ago
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DR3 wine pairings
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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago
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Chasing Us: Part 4
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SUMMARY: Tyler and Hannah put their little act on display at the welcome dinner as they talk and socialize with the other wedding guests.
WARNINGS: NONE
WORD COUNT: 2.5k
PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3
TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87
Tyler finished rolling up the sleeves of his olive green linen shirt, glancing at himself in the mirror to make sure everything looked presentable. He wasn't one to get dressed up often - his usual attire leaned more towards practicality than style - but tonight was different. This wasn't just any evening; this was the first official family gathering where he and Hannah had to convince everyone that they were a couple.
He adjusted his gray chino shorts, making sure they sat right, and then leaned against the edge of the dresser, waiting for Hannah to finish getting ready in the bathroom. The low hum of voices from downstairs drifted up through the open door, reminding him that they didn't have much time.
The door to the bathroom creaked open, and Tyler looked up, expecting Hannah to step out. When she did, he found himself momentarily speechless.
Hannah stood in the doorway, her dress a soft, grey-blue satin that shimmered under the warm light of the room. The dress hugged her figure in all the right places, the slit at the side showing just a hint of leg as she shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, and her makeup was minimal but elegant, accentuating her natural beauty.
For a moment, Tyler forgot to breathe. He'd seen Hannah in countless situations - windswept and muddy from storm chasing, hunched over laughing over a shared joke, even frustrated and exhausted after a long day - but this was different. This was the first time he'd seen her dress up, and she looked...stunning.
Hannah noticed the way he was staring and shifted uncomfortably. "What?" she asked, her voice tinged with nervousness as she smoothed the fabric of her dress. "Is something wrong?"
Tyler quickly shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "No," he replied, his voice a little softer than usual. "Nothing's wrong. You look...amazing, Hannah."
Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, and she gave him a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You clean up pretty well yourself."
Tyler chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I had to step up my game for tonight. Didn't think my dirty boots and jeans would cut it."
They shared a brief smile before the moment passed, the weight of the evening ahead of them settling back in. Tyler cleared his throat and offered his arm to her. "Shall we?"
Hannah looped her arm through his, grateful for the small gesture of support. "Let's do this," she said, trying to muster up as much confidence as she could.
As they made their way downstairs, the sound of laughter and conversation grew louder. They entered the kitchen and dining room area where the rest of the family was already gathered. The table was adorned with a charcuterie board spread - an array of cheeses, cured meats, fruits, and crackers - alongside an impressive selection of drinks.
Emily spotted them first and waved them over with a wide grin. "There they are! The happy couple!"
Hannah's heartbeat skipped a beat at the words, but she forced a smile and squeezed Tyler's arm lightly, hoping he wouldn't notice how nervous she was. Tyler, ever perceptive, felt her unease and moved his arm to place a gentle hand on her back as they walked towards the group - a move, that while meant to to comfort her, also had the added benefit of making their relationship appear genuine to anyone watching.
They were soon surrounded by family members, each eager to catch up with Hannah and get a chance to get to know Tyler a little more. Her parents were the first to approach her dad immediately enveloping her in a warm hug. "There's my Hannah Banana," he said fondly, using the old nickname he used to have for her.
"Hi, Dad," Hannah replied, her voice slightly muffled against his shoulder. When he finally released her, she turned to her mom, who was already beaming at her.
"Honey, it's so good to have you here," her mom said pulling her in for a hug. "And we're so glad you brought Tyler." She glanced at him with a warm smile. "You know, I was just telling her dad the other day about how Hannah used to pretend to be a storm chaser when she was little - always running around the backyard with a toy microphone, giving weather updates."
"Mom," Hannah groaned, her cheeks flushing. "You don't need to tell him that."
Tyler chuckled, clearly enjoying the story. "Sounds like she was practicing for the real thing. Must have always been a natural."
"Oh, she was," her dad chimed in, grinning. "She'd get all dressed up too. Raincoat, boots, the whole deal. We had to drag her inside when it started getting bad."
"Those were the good times," her mom added, laughing softly. "And now look at you, all grown up and become a storm chaser for real. And now she's bringing one home too. I guess we should've seen it coming."
Hannah smiled, embarrassed but touched by her parents' memories. Tyler caught her eye and gave her a small, reassuring smile, clearly unbothered by the story.
"Well," Tyler said, smoothly transitioning the conversation, "I'm just glad I get to be here with all of you. I can see where Hannah gets her charm, and her beauty." He said before looking at her mom.
Her mom smiled, clearly pleased. "We're glad you're here, Tyler. You two seem to make a great team."
Hannah shot Tyler a quick, grateful glance, relieved that the interaction had gone so smoothly. He responded with a subtle nod, his hand gently resting on the small of her back as they moved on to greet the next group of relatives.
Hannah and Tyler wandered over to where Emily and Matt were standing. Emily greeted them with a bright smile, her eyes twinkling.
"Hannah, I was just telling Matt about when we were younger."
Hannah rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "Oh, great. Which stories were you tell him about exactly?"
Emily laughed and turned to Tyler. "Well, when we were kids, Hannah was absolutely obsessed with rodeo cowboys. Every summer, she'd drag me to the rodeos, trying to get pictures with the riders and maybe even a little autographed cowboy hat. She had the biggest crush on them, especially if they had that classic cowboy charm."
Tyler's eyebrows shot up in interest, and he grinned at Hannah. "Is that so? I didn't realize I had competition."
Hannah gave him a mock glare. "Oh, please. That was years ago."
"It's funny you should say that, Emily. Because I used to compete as a bull rider back in the day." Tyler replied, still smiling.
Emily's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? That's incredible! It must've been fate for you two to end up together, then."
Hannah looked at Tyler, a mix of surprise and amusement in her eyes. "You never told me that."
Tyler shrugged, still smiling. "Just didn't come up in conversation. I did it before I went to college. But I do have to say, I can see why you were so keen on rodeo cowboys."
Emily nudged Hannah playfully. "And here I was, thinking you were just destined for a lifetime of awkward attempts to impress cowboys at rodeos."
Hannah laughed, shaking her head. "I guess sometimes fate has a way of working things out."
The playful banter continued, and Tyler and Hannah found themselves easing into the evening, surrounded by laughter and stories from their pasts. It was clear that despite the pretense, there was a genuine connection forming between them.
As the evening wore on, the charcuterie board became a centerpiece of the gathering, with various cheeses, meats, and fruits laid out for everyone to enjoy. Tyler and Hannah were making their rounds, chatting and sampling the assortment. Tyler picked up a piece of cheese, turned to Hannah with a playful grin, and held it out to her.
"Care for a bite?" he asked, making a show of offering the cheese.
Hannah laughed and playfully rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure. Why not?" She leaned in, and Tyler carefully fed her the piece of cheese, his fingers brushing her lips briefly. The touch was light but lingered, and Tyler's eyes met hers with a twinkle of mischief.
Her family gathered nearby and watched the interaction with amused smiles. Emily leaned into Matt, whispering, "Aren't they adorable?"
The evening continued with drinks flowing and the atmosphere growing more relaxed. As the night went on, Hannah had a few drinks, and her earlier nerves had started to dissipate. She was enjoying herself more, laughing and chatting with everyone. Tyler stayed close, making sure she was comfortable and having a good time.
At one point, while reaching for another piece of cheese from the board, Hannah took a small misstep. She started to lose her balance, and Tyler instinctively reached out to catch her. He steadied her with a firm grip around her waist, pulling her gently back into him.
Hannah looked up at him with a slightly embarrassed but grateful smile. "Thanks for saving me. I guess I'm a bit clumsy tonight."
Tyler's grin was warm and reassuring. "No problem. Just doing my job as your 'boyfriend.'"
The moment was tender and genuine, and her family took note of how Tyler's touch was both protective and caring. Hannah's mom watched with a smile, nudging her husband with her elbow. "They really do seem to fit well together."
The evening continued with more mingling and laughter. As the night grew later, Hannah found herself leaning into Tyler more, feeling comfortable and content. Tyler occasionally brushed his hand against her back or lightly touched her arm, and each time, it seemed to reaffirm the connection between them.
When the time came for everyone to gather for a toast, Tyler and Hannah stood together, their arms casually brushing against each other.
Hannah's dad, holding a glass of champagne, stood up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the guests. His face was beaming with pride and happiness.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "if I could have your attention for just a moment."
The chatter quieted, and everyone turned toward him. Hannah glanced up at Tyler, who gave her a reassuring smile, sensing her nervousness.
"I want to start by thanking each and every one of you for making the journey here to celebrate this special day with us. Your presence means the world to Emily and Matt, and to all of us."
There was a murmur of agreement and appreciation from the crowd. Hannah's dad continued, raising his glass a little higher.
"Tonight is not just a celebration of Emily and Matt's love, but also of the love that surrounds us all, both old and new," he paused glancing over at Hannah and Tyler.
Tyler glanced at Hannah, who looked pleasantly surprised by the inclusion of their relationship in the toast. Her eyes met his, and he gave her a warm, encouraging smile.
"To love," Hannah's dad concluded, "both old and new. May it continue to grow and thrive in our hearts."
Everyone raised their glasses in unison and took a sip, the air filled with a collective sense of joy and celebration. Tyler gently squeezed Hannah's hand, their earlier flirtation now blending seamlessly with the warm and genuine atmosphere.
As the toast ended and the guests resumed mingling, the warmth of the evening seemed to envelop Tyler and Hannah. Her family continued to observe their interactions, clearly impressed by the way Tyler's care and affection for Hannah were evident in every touch and glance.
As the evening wound down, one by one, the guests began to say their goodnights and retire to their rooms. The warm glow of the lanterns and the soft chatter of the remaining few added to the cozy, intimate atmosphere.
Hannah and Tyler lingered a little longer, enjoying the final moments of the night. But soon, they too decided it was time to call it a night.
"I think we should head up," Hannah said, giving Tyler a tired but content smile.
Tyler nodded. "Yeah, let's get some rest."
They said their goodnights to those still gathered, exchanging a few last laughs and hugs, before making their way back up to their room. As they walked down the hallway, the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop.
Once inside the room, Hannah sighed, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm going to hop in the shower quickly," she said, glancing at Tyler, who had already begun to unbutton his shirt.
"Sounds good," he replied casually, continuing to undress as she headed into the bathroom.
The sound of the shower running echoed faintly in the room as Tyler finished undressing, standing shirtless in the dim light. He began to gather his things, getting ready to take his turn in the shower.
A few minutes later, Hannah emerged from the bathroom, her hair slightly damp, dressed in a pair of soft pajama shorts and a loose-fitting tank top. She froze for a second as her eyes met Tyler's bare chest. She hadn't seen him like this before, his muscles well-defined, his skin tanned from the countless hours spent under the sun during storm chases. She felt her cheeks flush as her gaze lingered longer than she intended.
Tyler caught her staring and smirked, "What?"
Hannah quickly looked away, a bit flustered. "Nothing. I just...didn't realize you were ready for your turn."
Tyler chuckled softly, not pressing the issue. "Well, I won't be long," he said as he headed into the bathroom, the door closing behind him.
Hannah let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and sat down on the edge of the bed, her thoughts racing. Why had she stared? This was Tyler-her friend and coworker. He was just doing her a favor by coming along as her plus-one. But the image of his bare chest kept creeping back into her mind, and now the thought of him in the shower, just a room away, sent her heart racing. She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts aside.
After what felt like an eternity, the bathroom door opened, and Tyler stepped out, now dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He looked comfortable and at ease, a stark contrast to the turmoil in Hannah's mind.
Tyler grabbed a pillow from the bed and pulled a throw blanket from the foot of it, making his way over to the couch. He arranged the pillow and blanket, then laid down, stretching out to get comfortable.
"Goodnight, Hannah," he said, turning his head to look at her with a gentle smile.
"Goodnight, Tyler," she replied, slipping under the covers of the bed.
The room grew quiet, with only the sound of the ceiling fan gently whirring above them. As they both settled in for the night, Hannah's mind kept wandering back to the evening's events, the unexpected attraction she felt toward Tyler, and the strange, uncharted territory they were navigating. But for now, she closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly and calm the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in her head.
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nightshadeslament · 4 months ago
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Long vent since it happened over the span of a month-ish. Remember that I’m writing this for me to process so it’s gonna be all over the place. Here’s a tw for family issues? Idk it triggered me into a manic episode so beware ig
I’ll say that this way definitely seem very…whiny? (Not that I’m on here to make myself seem like a saint) but each person here (besides partner A) has traumatized me in the past. I was tryin to work through it just to try to do something fun and nice. So it may not seem like a big deal but it unfortunately digs deep for me. Anywho…
All I wanted to do was something nice to celebrate my mom.
I’ve been trying to convince my two older siblings to help me set something up to celebrate her since BEFORE Mother’s Day. They weren’t very helpful. I pitched a picnic idea two weeks or so before Mother’s Day and they seemed gung ho(??) about it. I figured that since it’s OUR mom we’d all be pitching to figure out what kind of picnic foods we’d have and stuff but everytime I’d bring it back up they just didn’t have anything helpful to say. I suggested dates they were…aloof? Idk how to explain it. They were responding but they weren’t putting in any sort of effort to figure stuff out.
Something about our mom is that she doesn’t like people and most holidays. So having the Mother’s Day celebration doesn’t mean it has to be on Mother’s Day. Honestly it didn’t have to happen at all but I can’t think of a time that we did ever do something to celebrate her. Even on her birthday. I just wanted to try a change of pace. One of my siblings has addressed over the past year and even recently that they wanted to start celebrating little things more in our family too. Practice what you preach? Mmh.
Well I pick the day, the time, the place and tell them in our sibling gc. I’m providing the picnic blanket, I bought a little picnic table, and flowers, all that’s left is the menu. They suggested a charcuterie board (bout the only thing they helped decided). THE DAY BEFORE THE FUCKING SHIT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN oldest sibling thought it was on a Sunday not Thursday and they’re asking to move it back cause they want to go grocery shopping together….mom was already made aware of the plans and was excited. I had to tell her that we had to reschedule and why. The flowers id bought her died on the dining room table. I couldn’t front myself to do anything with them. I asked partner A to get rid of them at some point. There was a lot of frustration and sadness and anger that I was really struggling to process because there way so many layers to the disappointment. I really wasn’t in the right place to process it so I swallowed it best it could and gave up on it all.
The month after was my mom’s birthday. I honestly planned to just go do something with her instead of dealing with my siblings again. Lo and Fucking behold the middling sibling decides to say that we need to do something for her upcoming birthday and the oldest sibling immediately started tossing ideas/helping. You’d never believe that they decided to do a picnic :). I’m not even kidding when I say my eye twitched and I had to set my phone down cause the feelings started bubbling up again. I was very very upset. I don’t remember what I was doing during that time, but it kept me busy thankfully. I didn’t respond to their messages that day when they asked to use my picnic stuff nor the next when they addressed me by name for a separate reason.
The fact that they didn’t give a shit when id tried to plan something but expect me to give a shit now was really ticking me off.
I didn’t respond floor a week or so. I wanted to but everytime I went to say something I’d get so pissed off that I couldn’t think of anything productive or conducive to the conversation to say. So I didn’t. I’ll also say that as upset as I get, I’m terrified of unjustly taking it out on others so I’ll sit on it and process it when and then address it properly.
Middle sibling addressed my being mia. I brushed it off with an excuse cause I wasn’t ready to talk about it. And I didn’t wanna even mention me being upset because that would put tension between us. And tension makes me XTREMELY avoidant and I give a shit about the relationship with my family, so imma try to not trigger that.(Prolly supposed to not care about managing their emotions by suppressing myself own but at least in writing this shit out instead of SHing so take improvement when you can damn it) I don’t want my being upset to prevent my mom being celebrated. So I heart some of their text messages about the whole thing and leave it at that.
Let’s see middle sibling brought up mom’s birthday 3 weeks before the birthday happened. I was admittedly petty for not ever bringing it back up to my siblings so that we could start actually putting it together despite being very aware of time flying by. Again, I was just gonna take her somewhere to celebrate just us two.
But alas the middle sibling come swooping in a whopping three days before moms birthday with the ground breaking text “moms birthday is in three days”.
*tim Allan face with caption “you don’t say”*
I told them that it’s also predicted to be hot humid and potentially rainy. Then went all “well what are we gonna do now hurrrrrr” and then didn’t say anything else. Rolled my eyes cause I’m not doing this again with them. The next day “so mamas birthday????”
Oldest gives a very helpful “uhhhhhhhh”. I woefully suggest hosting a dinner at my house. (We’ve never gone on a trip out of the city as a family none the had a “formal” dinner together) and get a visit from Simon & Garfunkel’s sound of silence. So much much later in the day I say “Going twice for dinner at my house”.
This The only response I get is “what are we gonna make” from the middle. And something snaps in me a little bit and I just give in and take over. My mom’s a vegetarian. They’re both picky eaters so when I asked them what they don’t like middles response was “everything she likes” and i literally tell AI to list SIXTY fucking vegetables and pull off NINE vegetables they I know for a fact that they like and say that they will be enough for a meal. Teetering between being fed up and trying to hold it together by this point.
Prior to this I was trying to get my life together. My house was a mess. I’ve been fighting a depressive episode triggered by the picnic thing failing and other stuff. So now I have to make the menu, by the ingredients, clean the house, and make sure it all stays within the budget that I’ve been working on to keep the house running smoothly.
I think it’s normal for people with AuAdhd to be overwhelmed because instead of looking at a task as the task you break the task down into steps. So it’s like hella steps to get done and you’re just wanting to die the whole time lol.
The oldest helps iron out some details and puts my middle sibling on decorating duty. I do a lot of work to get everything together for the next two days. I have Ehlers Danlos syndrome so I was in a lot of pain after all of that and then having to stand and cook for 4 hours. Middle sibling comes over and is bouncing off the walls irritated and then excited and trying to plan stuff. I dissociated once my oldest sibling came over. Oldest started snapping on everyone cause they were overwhelmed with the music playing and the middles bouncing off the wall and my dogs being exited to see them. My partner was doing everything to keep me from having a meltdown myself by helping get everything ready and fulfilling the middles 800 requests for things cause I couldn’t step away from the stove. They’re a saint truly.
Oldest is trying to get their TWO things in the oven while complaining about everything (well come back tk this). I’m trying to finish the food. Middle is asking a million and one questions and then ushering me to go get my formal wear on while they go and get mom and bring her over.
So the oldest and they’re complaining. It’s gotten worse over the last year but it’s weird for my thought process to be that it was what they were destined to turn into. They complained about the dinner. They complained about dress code. They complained about having to come after work. Complained about work. Complained about what decided to wear. It was triggering because it reminded me their former best friend (who has has traumatized me) and a former friend of mine who’s also messed me up pretty bad. Theres something about it that I can’t put my finger on. Like they’re complaining for comfort and attention? Idk if that’s what it is. But it’s in the manipulative category and it’s escalating on their end and I can’t tolerate being around them anymore because of it. My BIGGEST thing when dealing with anyone who does that is like…what do you want me to say? What SHOUKD I say? Do I play into it and like “aww I’m so sorry”? It’s hard cause I know what they’re doing and i don’t even think I could play into it fr without sounding really fake. I don’t like being fake no matter the situation so it’s just awards for them cause they’ll be all “Ugh this is so much work AND you want me to dress up?! Yall are doing to much. I have to work tomorrowwwww.�� Let it be known that they don’t ever see us and we don’t ask these kinds of things of them EVER. So like…if you didn’t wanna be here don’t come idk. PLUS they can’t take a joke. And again any inconvenience to them will make them want to leave. Just…cringey and triggering.
Dinner goes okay. I made the entree, 2/3 sides, and the dessert. Oldest brought a wine, a juice, rolls, and a side that I ended up cooking. Middle decorated. Middle posts on their Facebook about how WE cooked her dinner. I’m not gonna trip too much on that case team effort a little bit. You know that joke where somebody starts a question about something you have to look at to answer and you’re very obviously not looking but answer anyway? Yea that upset the oldest and they were trying to leave the dinner early for the rest of the night. Like nobody way trying to be mean. Nobody was looking, I was refilling drinks. We all answered yes or no laughed cause haha we all just did that at the same time and then looked at the oldest and their face was just 😐 “im leaving. Dont touch me. No I’m leaving.” Had to clarify that we were kidding. They shed if they looked ashy. I thought we were talking ashy elbows and toes (cause mine were very ashy lol again don’t come for me it was a long ass day).
Anyway their response was triggering because of the aggression. Then I was on edge that the middle was gonna be set off. They were getting there. I just wanted moon to enjoy her dinner and have great convo. Got dessert out the over it was a hit and the oldest rushed off after we sang happy birthday.
What sent me into my episode was my mom looking at my partner and telling them “Thank you for hosting.” My partner being the amazing human that they are said “nightshade did all the work I just helped a little bit.” I can only imagine how pathetic I looked there. Just looking at my mom like ”…are you kidding me?”
She wasn’t trying to over look me or my efforts I’d gotten a lot of praise on dinner and the house. She just wanted to give my partner thanks for something cause she hasn’t thanked them for anything really that night. But that wasn’t going through my mind when she said it. All I could think was how even after all the bullshit I dealt with ask the work and pain I went through, THEY get the thanks for hosting. Fuck Mr and my efforts. They barely even helped clean the house!
It just killed the little bit of restraint I had left. Since then I’d wasted $200 on being impulsive and put myself in danger. I felt guilty afterwards and rejected for while before realizing that I’d entered a manic episode and I’ve been on damage control since. Preventing myself from doing anything else stupid. Have I mentioned how much of a saint my partner is? lol. They deal with a lot of my antics and fuck ups and trying to push through triggering situations because I want to be strong and work on my familial relationships. I’m lucky to have them.
Manic episodes are kinda scary for me especially now that I have something to lose. But I’m doing everything I can to stay grounded and work through it. Exhibit A: this post. Thanks for listening to the bull shit. If you made it this far you’re probably bored lol.
Mk bye.
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supersabbatical2024 · 7 months ago
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4/30/24: Got behind on our travel log,,,spent a while going through photos of our good dog Oreo and our family over the past 15 years…time has a way of passing by ey…?
Here is a recap of the last few days.
April 25: Our friends from Milan showed up at our door in Aix, and we had the charcuterie, cheese and baguettes waiting. Claude has known the two sisters, Valeria and Giovanna Fossa, since late 80’s(?) when Claude’s father Peter made friends with the whole Fossa family in Virgin Gorda (the Caribbean vacation spot where Peter and Regina visited with Claude each year for about 30 years). The parents have all passed on, but we have remained in touch with Valeria and her husband Roberto, and their daughter Mapi, as well as Giovanna. David and Mapi are the same age, and did a home swap in 2015(?) where Mapi came to NJ and then traveled back to Milan with David. David and Mapi still keep in touch, and David owes much of his Italian language skills to Mapi and the Fossas!
Anyway, we have met up with the Fossa family several times over the years in France, England, Sardinia—just a really “sympatico” fun time, always. So this year, this lovely group drove 6 hours to meet us in Aix, and brought along close family friend Lamberto, a really sweet and easygoing guy. We chatted all evening and, despite the fact that we have not been together for 6+ years, it was as if no time had passed. Graciously, the Italians switched into English language mode, so we could communicate more easily. Even though there are 4 of them and 2 of us Americans…we are so spoiled!! I was struck by the fact that, even when they were speaking amongst themselves, they would often speak English, so as not to leave us out of the conversation. I thought this was a really sweet gesture. Giovanna insisted that even though they do love us, it is really just easier for her not to switch back and forth between English and Italian—so just easier to stick to English. But I know it’s just Because they love us so much. ❤️ I did proclaim that I would be learning some Italian before we see them again…first I have to master le Français.
April 26: Friday morning we travelled together to Gordes to check out the massive Abbaye de Sénanque, where the Cistercians chose to found a monastery in 1148. Luckily, Giovanna is an architect and explained a bunch of interesting structural information and history, which made the whole thing much more interesting to me. We also learned the word that Claude has been searching for to describe his design plan for an office renovation in our house in Maine. We are putting a dormer into the roof to create some height and space in the upstairs area. Just so you don’t forget, dear Claude, the intersection of the dormer to the roof lines is known as the “Transceptor” (sp?) NOT the “Apse.” In any event the Abbaye was likely built in the Romanesque period, after they had learned advanced methods for structuring their massive arching spaces. Our Maine house will have no such Romanesque design features, but at least Claude learned some new facts.
We also made it to Rouillons, Sentiers Des Ocres, the “ochre cliffs.” We had to trek quickly, since we only had 45 minutes to get through the 4 kilometer path before closing time for the park. NO problem! We plodded through the soft clay ground, staring up at the orangey-red-brown cliffs. Just Amazing. Popped into an art store nearby that had thousands of jars of paint pigments, with varous blends of the colors of the cliffs, and also the now iconic Cobalt that I have always loved (and will always love) so much. I wanted to buy ALL the jars!!!! Just the entire set of blues maybe? OR the colors used by Matisse? Picasso? Mondrian? Cezanne? But then the greens and the purples were so LUSCIOUS.…!!! >Gasp< Claude convinced me to get a small set—little chips of a wide variety of colors—and gently escorted me out of the store before I hyperventilated with joy. Laudrèe Patisserie for fancy macarons.
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bokutos-eyebrows · 4 years ago
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It’s a Match! Pt 3
Part 3/3 of my College AU Asahi x Reader fic! 
Part 1
Part 2
Word Count: 2,314
Warnings: the last half of this chapter are NSFW! 18+ ! and very vanilla 
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Tequila, mangoes, limes, you glanced over everything in your shopping basket. Grapes, apples, brie, mixed nuts, dried fruit, more cheese….is making a charcuterie board with mango margaritas really necessary? 
It was the morning after your dinner with Asahi. You had bolted to the closest grocery store to prepare to host your second date and were in the baking aisle wondering if baking muffins, on top of the margaritas and charcuterie, would be too ‘try hard’.
“Oh! There’s a familiar face!” 
You turn around and see Daichi and Sugawara walking towards you.
“Hello! It’s nice to see you guys again.” you smiled.
“Mhm..and it’s nice to see you’re wearing our Asahi’s jacket,” Sugawara teased, earning a giggle from Daichi.
Shit. It was true, in the afterglow from last night’s successful rendezvous, you had thrown on Asahi’s coat for your trip to the store. 
“Don’t listen to him, y/n,” Daichi laughed, “He’s just jealous.”
“Anyone would be jealous, I want a pretty girl to wear my sweaters too!” Suga pouted. “Anyways let us help you with your basket, it looks heavy.” He grabbed your shopping basket and handed it to Daichi. 
“By ‘us’, you mean me, right?” Daichi rolled his eyes.
“Yup!” Sugawara smiled, linking his arm with yours to walk around and gossip as if the two of you had been best friends for years. “You’re here by yourself?” He asked.
“Yeah, my roommates are leaving today to spend the rest of spring break back home.”
“Ooooouuu, so you and Asahi will have the place to yourselves tonight then?” Daichi raised an eyebrow. You laughed nervously, unsure what to say. As the two boys picked out the groceries they needed, you felt your phone vibrate.
Asahi: Good morning :) I can't wait to see you later! 
“Daichi he texted her!” Suga exclaimed, leaning over your phone before grabbing it from your hands. He opened up the camera, took a quick selfie of the three of you, and sent it to Asahi.
Asahi: Suga? Daichi?
Y/N: I ran into them at the supermarket rn! Suga sent the selfie haha
Asahi: y/n I am so sorry T__T
The boys laughed at his response and the three of you paid for your groceries and started the walk back to campus. 
“You really didn’t have to carry all my stuff Daichi, I know it must have been heavy.” You pulled out your keys, opening your front door.
“It’s the least I can do for someone who’s making our Asahi so happy.” He smiled.
“Yeah I mean we all thought this was just going to stay an unrequited crush all semester so we’re kinda shock-” Sugawara gasped and covered his mouth.
“Suga, you idiot.” Daichi shook his head at his gray haired friend.
You felt a smile creep up on your face. “Oh?” You mused, “Go on… finish your sentence Suga.”
“Oh haha look we’re here at your dorm! Haha!” Suga deflected the attention off himself. 
“Yep! Hahahaha! Let me just put your stuff down and we’ll be out of your hair!” Daichi frantically set your bags down in the kitchen. 
You sighed, knowing you wouldn’t get any information out of these two. “Thank you for doing that, and thank you for the Asahi insider info.” You teased.
Sugawara let out a nervous laugh as he and Daichi walked out.
“Take care of him for us, y/n.”
You spent the rest of the morning preparing the margarita mix and charcuterie board so you’d have extra time to get ready. The day seemed to drag on forever in your anticipation. You had passed the time texting asahi and making a playlist of both your favorite songs to set the mood for the date. 
About an hour was left before Asahi would arrive. You did your hair and makeup, wishing your roommates were still around to tell you if it looked okay or not. Time still felt like it was going in slow motion. You slipped into a tight black bodycon dress and an oversized jean jacket. I wonder if this is too much… Your phone buzzed, interrupting your thoughts.
Hey! I’ll be headed over there in 10 mins or so :) Can’t wait to see you!
Your face lit up reading Asahi’s text. 
See you soon then <3
You set out your charcuterie plate and some glasses of water on your dinner table. As you finished blending and pouring the blessed margaritas that were the reason for this second date, you heard a knock at the door. Excitedly, you rushed to open it.
“Hi y/n,” Asahi beamed at you, “You look amazing tonight!” He handed you a small bouquet of fresh flowers.
“Oh! Asahi this is so sweet thank you, you didn’t have to!” You wrapped him in a hug.
“I couldn’t just show up to our second date empty handed!” 
“You’re the sweetest,” you blushed, “come in! Take a seat at the table, everything is ready!” You put the flowers in a vase and put on your special date playlist.
“Y/n this looks incredible!” Asahi admired your fancy spread of snacks as he sipped on his drink. After placing your flowers on the table, you sat down at the seat next to Asahi. He scooted his chair closer to you while saying something about how good the drink was. It was hard to focus with your heart beating so loudly. 
It still doesn’t feel real. After all this time dreaming of him, not even knowing his name, Asahi is here on a date with me? You smiled at him as you watched him enjoying the layout you prepared. 
“You’re so cute, Asahi.” He paused at your statement, blushing.
“You’re cuter, y/n.” Asahi lifted his hand to your face and stroked your cheek. 
The two of you were blushing, flustered messes but you enjoyed it. 
After both of you were about three drinks deep, Asahi turned to you changing the topic of conversation. 
“So, you were wearing my sweater this morning when you went  to the store.” He smirks, eyes half open in a tipsy glaze. 
Your cheeks were already pink from the alcohol, but you could feel them heat up even more. “Did Suga tell you that?” 
“Hmm yes, and he sent me picture proof of the three of you, remember.” 
You paused before your face lit up, remembering the conversation with the gray haired boy earlier. 
“Yeah, well, Sugawara told me that you had a crush on me all semester.” You smirked back at him.
Asahi looked shocked at your statement. However, this was soon replaced by another smirk. In a moment of alcohol induced courage, Asahi turned to you.
“Oh yeah? Maybe it’s because I saw the way you stared at me every lecture.”
“Y-You noticed that?” You stammered, looking away.
“Of course I noticed you, y/n,” Asahi gently put a hand on your arm, “I thought you were glaring at first, like you hated me or something.” he chuckled. “But, as time went on Suga and Daichi convinced me that you were checking me out.”
“W-Well that’s just-”
“Do you know the amount of confidence that gave me? The most gorgeous girl in the entire class looking at me?” He leaned his face in closer to yours, “And then our eyes met and I knew I had to say something to you, I just couldn’t figure out how to approach you, or what to even say.”
You turned to look at Asahi, his face plastered with the most sincere smile. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“I felt the same way,” you confessed, “I would see you around campus and not know how to talk to you.” You put your hand on Asahi’s cheek, pulling his face towards yours. “And now, I have you here.” 
“Can I kiss you, y/n?” Asahi whispered, wanting to share this moment with you and only you.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you smiled. Asahi’s soft lips touched yours. The faint taste of mango from your drinks danced around your meshing skin. You felt Asahi’s hands cup your face as you both melted into the kiss.
You were finally kissing the tall long haired hottie from your comms class. Your mind went blank and you started to deepen the kiss. Asahi parted his lips enough for your tongue to gain entry. You moaned as your tongues met. 
Without breaking the kiss, you moved onto Asahi’s lap. You let out a gasp when you felt his hard length pressing into you.
“S-Sorry it just happened.” Asahi mumbled, not wanting to break the kiss for too long. You smiled as you pressed your lips back on to his and started slowly grinding your hips on his lap. He grabbed your ass and lifted you up.
“Let’s take this to your room?” He whispered as you wrapped your legs around him.
“It’s the second room down the hall,” you started kissing Asahi’s neck, biting and sucking on every place that made him moan.
He scrambled to open your door and lay you down on the bed. Asahi stood at the edge of your bed, looking down at your beauty. 
“Is this okay, y/n?” He asked, petting your hair for reassurance.
“Yes, please keep going.” you begged.
Asahi bent down and started kissing your neck, leaving wet trails down to your chest. You sat up to pull off your jean jacket, feeling Asahi’s wandering hands travel up and down your body.
“You look so sexy in this dress.” He moaned out, reaching his hand under the fabric to fondle your breasts. You started unbuttoning his shirt, kissing and licking up and down his toned body. Asahi gently pushed you down onto the bed and helped you wriggle out of your tight dress. He grabbed your now exposed tits and started sucking on your nipple, fondling the other with his left hand. 
You moaned with pleasure as you felt his tongue run circles around your sensitive bud. Asahi smiled as you ran your fingers through his long hair. He released your nipple and started trailing kisses down your stomach to your thighs. You cried out in pleasure as he kissed and sucked on the sensitive area between your slick and your thighs. 
“Please, Asahi,” you pleaded, tugging on his hair. Asahi couldn’t keep up the tease long when you begged for him like that. He lapped gently at your heat, causing you to moan loudly. He gripped your thighs as you twitched and squirmed on his face. 
“Asahi mmmnn, fuck!” you yelled as he circled your clit with his tongue, running it over every sensitive nerve. He started vigorously sucking and swirling around your clit, the sensation drawing out your orgasm quickly. Your vision got blurred and all you could focus on was how good Asahi was making you feel. He lapped up your release, moaning and smirking with confidence.
“Ahh” you panted, “No one has ever made me cum that hard that fast.” you covered your face with your hands as you tried to control your heavy breathing.
“I-I’m so happy I could make you feel good.” Asahi stammered, blushing. “I’ve wanted to taste you for a long time.”
You pulled his face to yours and kissed him, tasting your juices. He started to deepen the kiss, swirling his tongue with yours. You felt his hard length poking your sensitive core through his pants.
“Mmm you’re so hard for me, Asahi.” You teased, grinding on his bulge. He moaned, grabbing your hips. You reached down to unbuckle his pants. Asahi took the hint and tugged them and his boxers off in one go. 
He rubbed his throbbing member up and down your sensitive core. You squirmed from the stimulation.
“Asahi, please don’t make me wait any longer.” 
The long haired boy thrust into you, groaning your name with pleasure. He held onto your waist as he started fucking you, both of you panting out each others names while riding out the ecstasy of how good it felt to finally be together.
“Y/n, you’re so tight.” he panted out as he dug his fingers into your hips. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mind going blank, as Asahi pounded you into the mattress. He was rougher than you expected, considering his sweet nature, and you were pleasantly surprised. 
Asahi leaned down to kiss you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’ve been fantasizing about this all semester.” He admits while picking up the speed.
“M-me ah,” you try to respond as asahi pumps in and out of you at a new angle, his length hitting your sweet spot. You kiss and bite into his neck, leaving multiple marks along his exposed nape and shoulder. 
Your vision starts to blur again as you feel yourself coming close to another orgasm. Asahi pets your hair and thrusts into you sloppily, pushing you over the edge. Once he’s sure you’ve had your release, Asahi pulls out and releases his seed onto your stomach.
“Aah let me get a towel.” Asahi runs off, leaving you breathless and tired on the bed.
I’m so lucky…The blushing boy comes back with a towel and water. He wipes you down as you drink.
“You’re amazing,” you smiled, “Better than anything I could have imagined.”
Asahi tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “I want to do this again,” he admitted, “B-But not just this, I want to go on dates, and s-sit together in lecture maybe if that’s alright with you…”
“Asahi…”
He averted his gaze, nervous of what you were going to say.
“This wasn’t a random hookup, I really like you. I’ve wanted to get to know you for a long time, so yes, please let’s do this again. I’ll do anything you want really.” You hugged him tight.
“Then, will you be my girlfriend?”
NOTES: Thank u fellow Asahi Azumane lovers for sticking with me for this fic! I absolutely adore this boy and thought we needed more Asahi content ; u ; 
Thank you so much for reading ! There will be more to come soon! 
Tag List: @yeet-these-hoez @neonfoxes666 @bartonfreemen​ @bubblebabytae Thank you all for your support! 
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slashhinginghasher · 4 years ago
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Closet Space - Jesse Cromeans x Marena Polunochnaya
Self-indulgent college AU? Self-indulgent college AU.
College senior Jesse Cromeans makes out with a hot international student at a frat party.
-
Jesse Cromeans and Caitlin Spann didn’t often go to frat parties anymore. The connections they’d gathered over the course of four years of business internships were enough to gain them access to real parties, not the desperate orgies of cheap sex and cheaper beer their peers engaged in. The Incident in their junior year also left Jesse reluctant to show his newly scarred face more than absolutely necessary. (Watching CEOs do lines of coke off of strippers’ tits in the hopes of getting a few business cards by the end of the night was necessary. Beer pong was not.) He’d made lots of excuses in that regard, and Spann was good enough not to call him out on it. But winter term was over, they’d both received their early acceptances from the Stanford School of Business, and tonight they felt like celebrating on somebody else’s dime.
They still made sure to choose one of the more monied fraternities. They did have standards, after all.
Old money or not, the inside of the frat house was still chaos. There was a massive, professionally decorated Christmas tree in the living room, which would be largely stripped of its ornaments and tinsel by drunk college kids come morning. Many of the girls had their tits out despite the winter chill, lots of skimpy, crushed velvet dresses and coquettish faux fur trim. Jesse was bombarded with greetings as soon as they walked through the door, and he fielded them with quickly waning patience as Spann drifted off to go do Spann things. He’d achieved a somewhat legendary status on campus after turning a first year stock market exercise into millions of real dollars. Spann had been his partner on that project, but she was perfectly content to take her cut of the money and leave the credit to him. She preferred to work in the background, claiming she got more done when she didn’t have to deal with the interpersonal bullshit politics that Jesse navigated so well.
He eventually wound up in the kitchen, where a steady stream of party-goers helped themselves to overpriced snacks (who put out charcuterie boards at a frat party, honestly?) and mixed half-assed cocktails that were 10% mixer at best. A couple groped at each other next to the pantry, and a short girl with dark, wild hair and an intense expression surveyed the stream of human traffic over the rim of a red solo cup. Jesse poured himself another whiskey and leaned against the island next to her.
PLANNING A MURDER?
The girl jumped slightly at the sound of his phone’s electronic voice, then glanced at him with startlingly blue eyes. She scoffed and took a swig of what looked like water or straight vodka.
“Just contemplating, not planning.” Her voice was lower than Jesse expected from someone her size, with a thick Eastern European accent. His lips twitched with a smile. He did always like them sharp, and a good chase was just what he needed tonight.
YOU DON’T SEEM TO BE ENJOYING YOURSELF.
“I’m not.”
THEN WHY COME?
“I’m fucking poor, and there’s free food.” As if to make a point, she turned around and started rummaging through the fridge like she owned the place. Jesse found himself at a loss for words, a laugh stuck halfway between his chest and his throat.
IF YOU’RE THAT POOR HOW DO YOU AFFORD THIS PLACE?
Jesse and Spann would graduate debt-free thanks to their stock market exploits, but the tuition at their university was… hefty, to say the least. He imagined it would be even worse for an international student.
“They gave me a lot of money because I am very sad orphan girl. And I am also devastatingly sexy,” she said, emerging from the fridge and shoving half a slice of pizza into her mouth in one bite. She flashed him a peace sign that somehow managed to be blisteringly sarcastic and sauntered away with her prize.
She was wearing a heavy plaid skirt that hit mid-calf, her black top looked like it had been run through a woodchipper and reassembled with safety pins, and she was eating stolen pizza straight out of the box.
Jesse wholly agreed with her self-assessment. The sexy part, at least.
***
He was still thinking about her an hour later when Spann sidled up on her platform stilettos, her balance impeccable despite her obvious intoxication.
“There’s a group of loudmouths gathering ‘round the pool table in the basement,” she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder. “You in a betting mood?”
“A hunting mood,” he signed.
“Ooooh.” She waggled her eyebrows dramatically. “Got your sights set on anyone?”
“I might.”
Most people thought Spann and Jesse were an item just because they lived together and spent almost every public moment attached at the hip. Which were pretty good reasons, when one thought about it. But Spann was largely a commitment girl, and Jesse was decidedly not. Spann didn’t want to be a metaphorical notch on a bedpost; Jesse didn’t want to be tied down. They’d made out once as an experiment at the end of their freshman year, then hashed out the boundaries of their relationship in a five-minute conversation that they’d followed ever since.
Jesse had no idea why other people had to make relationships so damn complicated.
Before Spann could convince Jesse to come watch her annihilate some frat boys at pool, the fraternity president approached them. He was a douchebag of the highest order - the type of guy who insisted on being addressed by his last name because his first name was Edwin or Briggsley or some other rich prick idiocy - and Jesse and Spann both hated him, but his obscenely wealthy father would be a useful business contact in the future, so they forced themselves to be cordial.
“Some of the girls are organizing a game of Truth or Dare in the den. You feeling bold, Caitlin?” he asked with a cocky grin. He was also the sort of douchebag who addressed all women by their first name, including his professors and women like Spann who could break his spine over their knee.
“No, thank you,” Spann said, cold and sweet as ice cream. “I finished high school years ago.” He laughed, the insult and the rejection rolling harmlessly off his shiny money veneer, and turned to Jesse.
“How about you, Cromeans?” Jesse was on the verge of saying no when he saw a mane of black hair being led, somewhat reluctantly, towards the small crowd gathering in the den. He shrugged with practiced nonchalance and held up his phone.
SURE, WHY THE FUCK NOT?
“Atta boy!” President Edwin Briggsley Douchebag III clapped him on the shoulder, and Jesse had to force himself not to break the twat’s hand. The other boy left to continue his rounds, recruiting anything with a pair of tits for his little game. Spann - god damn her fucking eagle eyes - had tracked Jesse’s gaze and was now grinning deviously.
“I heard she has sessions with Malloy every other week,” she whispered in his ear, referring to one of the lead staff at the university’s mental health clinic. “Condition of her enrollment.”
Now that was interesting.
“Happy hunting,” she cackled, elbowing him playfully in the ribs. “I’m off to make some rich boys cry.”
***
People were so dreadfully predictable, Jesse thought. Nearly ten people in and not a hint of creativity to be found. People who chose Truth were asked to recount their sexual history or most embarrassing moments; those who picked Dare were promptly relieved of articles of clothing. The object of his momentary obsession appeared to be having similar thoughts as she watched the proceedings with heavy-lidded boredom. The crowd booed as one of the boys dared a girl to kiss him and she threw herself at him with great enthusiasm.
“That’s not a real dare, you’re her fucking boyfriend!” someone protested. The girl stuck her tongue out at them, then shoved it back in her boyfriend’s mouth. There were more jeers and whistles and a few calls for them to get a room. One of the boys tried to get back everyone’s attention.
“Alright, alright, whatever, next victim!” He pointed at Jesse’s girl and trailed off, apparently realizing he didn’t know her name.
“Mareeeennnnaaaaa!” cooed the girl who’d roped her in to the game, dragging the vowels out in a drunken sing-song.
“Marena!” the boy announced. Marena quirked a brow, apparently unimpressed with his pronunciation. “Truth or dare!”
“Dare,” she said with zero hesitation. The boy honest to god rubbed his hands together and grinned like he was about to say something genius.
“Twenty minutes in heaven.” Not that genius, then. He grabbed the closest empty beer bottle and held it up with two fingers. “Spin the bottle and whoever it lands on gets locked in a closet with you for twenty minutes.”
Like hell was Jesse going to let one of these dumb fucks get her alone for even one minute.
“I thought it was normally seven minutes.”
“Are you backing out?” Marena flipped him off as an answer and snatched the bottle from him, sending it spinning with an elegant flick of her fingers.
She had a few whitish scars on her hand and wrist, barely visible in the low light.
Jesse tensed as the bottle slowed, frantically thinking up reasons to start a fight with whoever it landed on. But his efforts were unnecessary, because the universe and physics were on his side that night. The crowd erupted into a clamor of hoots and hollers like someone had just won the lottery. None of them had really expected Jesse to participate; he had connections and status and thus was too cool to be anything more than a silent watcher. President Douchebag ushered the pair to the nearest closet - a walk-in (fortunately for Jesse’s long limbs) that had been converted to a coat room for the night - leering at Jesse like they were good buddies who’d discuss the relative merits of European pussy over drinks later. Jesse ignored him and, ever the gentleman, gestured Marena in before him with a little half bow. Her head barely reached his chest as she passed him wordlessly; she was only a little taller than Spann and she was wearing flats. The door was shut and they were plunged into darkness, the sounds of the party muffled by the thick wood.
A few seconds of quiet stillness passed before Marena turned on her phone (which was at least three models out of date), using the light from the (cracked) screen as a flashlight. She looked ghostly in the faint, bluish light, the shadows deepened in the hollows of her eye sockets. Jesse leaned back against the door and folded his arms as she started a slow circuit of the tiny room, observing the winter jackets twisted haphazardly on every available hanger and piled in the corners on the floor. He would have loved to immediately start making use of his twenty minutes, but there was something animal and twitchy about the way she moved that made him think that any sudden moves would be met with teeth. She did not look at him, or at the way his posture and shirt emphasized the size of his biceps, which he didn’t like, and he really didn’t like the tension creeping into her slender shoulders. When he touched her arm to get her attention, she jolted as though shot.
YOU GOOD?
The amount of time she spent mulling over the question was a clear enough “no”, but she still answered anyway.
“The last time I was locked in a closet was… unpleasant.”
UNPLEASANT IN WHAT WAY?
Thoughts of high school boys with beer breath and over-insistent hands were filling him with a slow rage.
“In a ‘listening to someone be violently murdered outside the door’ way.”
Well, damn. Okay.
WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING?
“You ask a lot of questions,” Marena snapped.
I CAN DISTRACT YOU ANOTHER WAY IF YOU LIKE.
She resumed her pacing, chewing her lip, but she looked more contemplative than tense. Jesse was acutely aware of the ticking clock.
“When did you lose your voice?”
I NEVER HAD ONE.
“What happened to your face?”
NOW WHO’S ASKING TOO MANY QUESTIONS?
“Answer it and you can distract me however you want.”
He didn’t need a business degree to know that he was being offered a fantastic fucking deal.
I PICKED A FIGHT WITH THE WRONG PERSON.
Jesse barely waited for the electronic voice to finish the last syllable before tossing his phone to the floor and charging her. He burrowed both hands into that black mass of hair and crushed his lips to hers like a starving man. Her skin was cool, but he felt her hands like brands through his shirt when she placed them against his chest for balance. He tightened his grip on her hair, hard enough to pull slightly on her scalp, and let one hand wander lower, fingertips catching on safety pins and ripped fabric as he made his way down to the modest curve of her ass. In turn, her touch moved upwards, exploring the muscles of his chest and shoulders, sliding up his neck until her thumbs rested firmly over his jugular. It was a bold move, dominant, and he wanted - needed - to get closer to her, to press her body against his in a way their height difference would not currently allow.
Marena wrapped her legs around him with no coaxing when he picked her up by the waist, walking forwards until her back pressed flat against the door. She was so light, like a little hollow-boned bird, and if he’d had a little more blood in his brain he’d be worried about crushing her. As it was, his blood was rapidly migrating south and the only thing he was concerned about was the taste of her as he nibbled on her full lower lip. He nipped at her, hard enough to sting, then soothed the hurt with his tongue, and was surprised when her tongue darted forward to meet his. He rolled his hips into hers, slow and deep, as he explored her mouth, wishing there was less clothing in the way. His cock was pressed painfully against his zipper, but he made no move to free it; he was not going to fuck her for the first time under a time constraint.
Finally, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers as they both panted for air. Jesse shoved a hand up Marena’s shirt, closing over her small breast and rubbing his thumb against the hardening nub of her nipple through her bra. Her head rolled back against the door with a soft thunk, granting him access to the soft skin of her throat. He latched onto her pulse point, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and Marena purred. The sound shot straight to his groin, and he had a sudden, intense desire to bite down until the salty warmth of her blood filled his mouth and dripped down his chin.
He wrenched back. Jesse was no stranger to violent impulses - had even followed through on quite a few of them - but he didn’t want to ruin the evening by murdering this girl in a closet. Undeterred, Marena grabbed his head with both hands and attacked his mouth with hers. She kissed him ferociously, voraciously, a clash of teeth and tongue, and when she bit his lip hard enough to make him bleed, he almost came on the spot. His hands were all over her, needing to feel every inch of her body but barely registering the ridges of scar tissue they encountered. She slid her hands into his back pockets and pulled him in until his pelvis was flush against hers. He leaned in with his full weight, and the only thing in the world that existed was the heavy grind of his hips against hers and the hot, wet dance of their mouths.
He was so close to saying fuck it, ripping her clothes off and going to town right there on the closet floor, when someone pounded on the door.
“Knock knock, Cromeans! Put your dick away!” Jesse snarled, already planning a way to slaughter the little asshole who’d interrupted the best not-fuck of his life. The sensation of Marena’s body sliding against his as she settled on her feet sent another lightning bolt of pleasure down his spine. There was a shuffle of fabric as Marena picked up her phone and tried to put herself back in order. Jesse didn’t bother; he knew they both looked a damn mess and he didn’t give a single fuck. In fact, the only thing he cared about at the moment was getting her into his bed so he could finish what he’d started.
“Thanks for the distraction,” Marena murmured, opening the door to a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles. She rolled her eyes and started shouldering her way through the crowd. She didn’t look back, which stung a little, and Jesse gave a sarcastic little salute to the crowd to avoid looking like a lovelorn asshole before retreating to the basement.
***
He didn’t realize until much later in the evening that she’d stolen his fucking wallet.
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mrjennifer · 5 years ago
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Writing of the Week. Week One: New
The prompt for week one was new.
1. New
              To me 2020 sounds like the most futuristic year since 2000, but in reality, I’m at a high school friend’s New Year’s Eve party two months after my childhood home burned down in a fire. Can you even call it a wildfire anymore if it blows through towns like a stiff breeze?
              I had just moved back in with my parent’s that summer, finishing my final two years of college studying linguistics. I hadn’t gotten a job yet and I had nowhere to go, so I went back.
              Home hadn’t changed much since I’d been gone. The mint had gotten out of control on the side yard and instead of a front lawn, there was gravel, bushy grasses, and cacti.
              “It saves on the water bill,” my dad said when I asked about it.
              He would never say it was to save the water itself. If it wasn’t for money, it wasn’t for anything.
              Take me moving back home. I paid a small amount of rent, far less than I would in the real world, and I helped with chores around the house. I was cheaper than hired labor, my dad would say as I emptied a full lawnmower bag into the green waste bin. The backyard was still grass.
              We had many arguments about how I couldn’t or didn’t find a job. I know part of it was that I focused on coursework my final year when other folks were interviewing. My dad was convinced it was because my studies were career-less.
              I tried early on to contextualize my academic interests with something someone would pay me to do. I knew I loved linguistics, so I thought maybe I could pair it with computer science. The problem was I hated programming. Everything about code made me frustrated and clammy. I would be up late in my bed, illuminated by the cold light of my laptop while frantically trying to get the output I’d intended.
              Then the house burned down in a fire, something that we’d come to fear each October ever since the altogether surprising fire storm in 2017. My parents up and moved out of the state, no longer feeling any attachment to a place that would scorn them like that, and I had to rent out a bedroom in a house full of strangers paid for by serving wine at a tasting room, a job I was very happy to have gotten. At least I’d successfully decluttered, a resolution I could firmly tick off before even starting the year.
              So here, now, I am shoving my face with charcuterie tidbits, getting plumb drunk on other people’s champagne, and listening to the parents of people I went to high school with talk about the people they know who’d lost their homes. They react with their heads cocked, brows crinkled with a surface-level compassionate, “Oh, how sad.”
              I am one of them, obviously, but I decide not to tell them that because it seems like it would bring them down to know a displaced was among them.
              Then I hear a voice coming from the living room, across the kitchen from me.
              “The world isn’t some warm, soft ear to whisper your sweet nothings into anymore,” the voice says. It has my full attention.
              I peek my head out of the kitchen and see her. She still has that swooping nose, the mole on her chin, eyebrows darker than her complexion would indicate. Her hair is dyed red now, fading slightly, but I know that voice. It’s Kara Young.
              She had been in my classes throughout high school. In those times she had been opinionated, a know-it-all, and she voraciously read romance novels whenever she was bored in class. My junior year I was hopelessly in love with her. Not her actually, I didn’t know her that well, but what I conceived of her.
              I had always been kind of annoyed by her, but eventually she’d grabbed so much of my attention that I decided that annoyance had been a defense mechanism for my true feelings.
              She dated a lot of people in high school but never me.
              “No,” she says, arguing with a boy wearing a college sweatshirt, probably someone’s younger brother. “The world is a tough leather bag that you can’t take anything out of that you didn’t put in first.”
              He widens his eyes and wrinkles his face in irritation. Clearly he is no longer interested listening to her.
              “You know as a society we’ve been systematically degrading our soil for years. Somehow homeowners have been convinced that one, they should grow a monoculture of grass on their land instead of say fruit trees or lettuce or beans – anything useful – and two, that they should cut this grass with powered equipment and throw that grass out into a bin where any of its conceivable usefulness is taken away. It’s all backwards.” She flings her hand into the air dramatically.
              “Who would want to keep their grass clippings?” the boy says, having paid enough attention to continue to argue.
              “It could be used as a natural fertilizer, in compost. If you just leave it be it’s better than having the city haul it off away from the land that produced it.” She is cupping a glass of red wine and it sloshes about as she angrily gesticulates.
              I’d heard about her older brother as told about by our AP English Literature teacher as either a cautionary tale or some sort of retrospective. He’d decided to forgo college and instead work at a local farm collective. Our teacher explained that the boy had been heavily inspired by Walden and that as a teacher he was conflicted about his influence. I wonder if Kara was wooed by the farm life too.
              I realize now that the conversation has gone quiet and I’ve been staring at her and now she is looking at me.
              I shake my empty champagne flute at her and head back into the kitchen. I feel like I’m back in high school doing things that don’t make sense because I’m not sure how people work yet. I set the glass down on the counter next to the sink and snake around some women taking a fresh baked lasagna out of the oven.
              Ah yes, the new years tradition of too much booze and a whole tray of lasagna.
I walk along the dark hallway past the family room, seeing a ring of light around the bathroom door. My escape plan is foiled. I keep walking, out into the cool garage.
              I open the fridge there. This will be my excuse. It’s starting to make sense now. Empty champagne flute wave means that I’m out and would prefer a beer.
              I’m in the fridge scooting aside energy drinks when I hear the door to the garage open.
              “I was hoping I would find you out here.”
              It’s Kara’s voice. I stay in the fridge knowing I’ll need to come out soon.
              “Hey,” I say. I grab two cans of craft beer. I exit the fridge. “Here,” I say, turning to face her. She’s wearing a pointed party hat with a little elastic band under her chin.
              She takes the beer and leans against the wall between the steps and the plywood shelving. She’s looking lanky, her head cocked.
              “What are you doing back in town?” she asks.
              “I, uh, work at a winery,” I say.
              She nods loosely. “I moved back too.”
              “Do you live with your parents?” I ask.
              She shakes her head. “Did you ever meet my brother?” She asks, “Andy?” She seems restless, her body constantly moving.
              I shake my head. “I heard about him,” I say.
              “We live together,” she says. “We have some property a little north of here. It’s a bit in the sticks, but I like it.”
              “Was it affected by the fire?” I ask.
              “Only smoke,” she says. Her voice is becoming raspier, almost a whisper.
              I nod and finally open my beer with a hiss.
              “You lost your house,” she says. Her voice gives out at the end.
              I nod as I take a long sip.
              “I am sorry about that,” she says. She looks into my eyes and I don’t feel like I’m in high school anymore.
              “Why are we here?” I hear myself ask.
              “At this party? I guess we had nothing better to do.” She takes the party hat off and rubs the underside of her chin. “Do you want to try it on?” she says, holding the hat up, still leaning against the wall.
              “Sure.” I smile.
              She comes to me, stretching out the elastic. “Lean down,” she says. “You’re too tall.”
              I lean down and she puts the hat on me. Her fingers are cold against the bottom of my chin as she adjusts the elastic.
              She smiles up at me, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You look great,” she says. Then she gets on her toes, puts her hands on my shoulders, and kisses me.
              It isn’t something slobbery and drunk. I can taste the IPA on her lips as I’m sure she can on mine, but I don’t feel like we’re outside of ourselves.
              She steps back and then resumes her position against the wall.
              “Do you still read romance novels?” I ask.
              She purses her lips bemusedly, her eyes glittering. “Yes,” she says. “And I plant trees, I argue with meatheads, and I still want to know more than the other people I’m in a room with. But I’m happy now.”
              “I’m glad,” I say.
              “Are you happy?” she asks.
              I can’t look at her in the eyes anymore. My eyes shift until they find a crack in the paved garage floor. “No,” I say, “but I think I could get there.”
              She peels herself away from the wall and turns towards the steps leaving the garage. “You should come to my property sometime,” she says. “I find it helps with those kinds of things.”
              I follow her up the cement steps, back into the party.
Prompts for the rest of the month:
2. outdoors 
3. bend 
4. build
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