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shawnssongs · 6 years ago

Note

ahh 49 56 + 82 if u can !!

No Tears

49: Who hurt you?

56: Tell me what’s wrong.

82: Just breathe, okay?

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summary: Shawn gets a call from you, asking him to pick you up. He doesn’t hesitate when he hears the pain in your voice.

warnings: (slightly) graphic mentions of bruising, sexual harassment and abuse. Also unedited writing, because I couldn’t bring myself to read through this again. Total angst, but a hopeful ending.

song: Everything’s Not Lost by Coldplay

Shawn was surprised to see your name pop up on his phone. The two of you hadn’t spoken in a while, despite Shawn’s best efforts. You started dating this guy, and it was okay at first, but as the relationship went on, yours and Shawn’s weakened, eventually to the point where you would leave him on read and never call him back. Shawn didn’t know why for sure, but he just assumed it was because your boyfriend didn’t want you talking to him anymore.

His ringtone shook him out of his thoughts and Shawn picked up the phone at the last second, not even getting a word in before you spoke.

“C-can you come pick me up?” You stuttered into the phone, hoping Shawn wouldn’t hear the sadness laced in your voice, but of course he did anyway.

“Y/n? Are you okay? Of course I can pick you up. Where are you?” You could hear Shawn shuffling around on the other line.

“Um, I’m...” you trailed off. “I don’t know.”

“What? Hun, I can’t pick you up if you can’t tell me where you are.”

Shawn didn’t say anything wrong, but his urgency scared you and was just enough to put you over the edge. You let out a choked sob.

“Y/n? Babe, just breathe, okay? I’ll just look at your snap map. Stay put.”

“O-okay.” You answered, sitting on a bench. You had run out of your boyfriends house and just kept going. At this point you weren’t sure where you were or how long you had been walking, and you knew you had to call Shawn.

“Y/n, you’re like twenty minutes away. I’m coming. Please don’t move.” Shawn’s voice soothed you, despite the obvious urgency that should have made you even more anxious than you already were.

You nodded in response, but let out a quiet ‘okay’ when you realized he couldn’t see you.

Shawn wasn’t going to hang up. Not until you were in his sight and he knew you were okay. When he heard your muffled sobs through the phone, he pressed a little harder on the gas.

“Y/n, darling. Breathe. Tell me what’s wrong.” Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because all Shawn heard were your sobs getting louder and quicker.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s okay. Just stay on the phone, okay? We don’t have to talk about it. Just stay on the phone.” Shawn picked up his speed a little more as he spoke. He had never heard you this frustrated before, and he had no idea what was going on.

“O-okay.” You listened to Shawn. You tried to breathe, but it was so hard. Your sobs were taking over your body and you had no idea why it was so bad. Your chest was heaving and you couldn’t seem to stop.

“C-can I help at all?” Shawn asked. “Is there anything I can do?” He was so worried about you. His arms were shaking, his hands gripping tightly on the wheel. Shawn couldn’t even feel his lower half, but somehow he was doing enough with his foot to be going ten miles over the speed limit. He wanted to do more, but getting pulled over by the cops would delay him a lot more than a few miles per hour.

“Can you s-sing?” Your shaky voice sounded in Shawn’s ear, and he couldn’t help the soft blush that dawned on his face.

“Of course, honey.” You always used to love listening to Shawn sing, and he missed it. When he sang to you, your eyes would always flicker shut and you’d lean back, reveling in his voice. Shawn was always a little self conscious when it came to you, but when he saw you like that, he knew he had nothing to worry about, and all his nerves disappeared and he just got lost in the music and the sight of you. “Your favorite?”

“Yeah.” Your voice wasn’t as shaky this time, and you were starting to calm down even before he started to sing.

“When I'm counting up my demons, saw there was one for every day. With the good ones on my shoulder, I drove the other ones away.”

Shawn started to sing your favorite Coldplay song through the phone, and you were able to take a deep breath, letting the air out shakily as he continued.

“If you ever feel neglected, if you think all is lost, I'll be counting up my demons, yeah, hoping everything's not lost.”

Another few deep breaths, each fuller than the last.

“When you thought that it was over, you could feel it all around. Everybody's out to get you, don't you let it drag you down.”

You shut your eyes, focusing on Shawn’s voice. The breathiness mixed with the slight rasp was the perfect combination, music to your ears.

Shawn kept singing, and before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, his car pulled over on the side of the road.

“I’m here.” Shawn had whispered into the phone, causing your eyes to open.

You smiled weakly up at him, and he smiled back as he hung up the phone, causing your tears to flow once again.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Shawn shot forward, placing himself next to you on the bench, wrapping his arms around your shaking body. “Y/n, it’s okay. I’m here.”

You leaned into his touch, resting your head against his broad shoulder.

“Shh, shh.” Shawn soothed. “Everything’s going to be okay, honey. You’re going to be okay.”

Shawn’s warmth comforted you, and you weren’t sure how long you sat there as he ran his arm up and down your back to soothe you. He knew you loved touch, but it was more comforting if there was movement. The movement helped you realize the touch was real, and that someone was really there, rather than just a void.

However, Shawn’s hand moved a little lower than you expected on your waist.

You let out a hiss, your stomach contracting as you bit your lip and Shawn jumped up.

“Are you okay?” His eyes were wide like a deer in headlights. “Y/n?”

You didn’t answer, so Shawn got on his knees in front of you, looking up at your face.

You closed your eyes, your head down, turning away from his intense gaze, trying to will yourself not to cry.

“Let me see...” Shawn spoke calmly, his fingertips brushing against the hem of your shirt.

You put your hands over his, stopping his movement. “Don’t.”

“Please, Y/n.” Let me see.

This time, you obliged, letting him lift your shirt.

“Oh my...” Shawn breathed out when he saw the large, sickeningly blue colored bruise forming on your lower waist and stomach, coming from the left side all the way to the center of your abdomen. “Who did this?” Shawn ran his fingers around the bruise, being sure not to touch it. He didn’t want to hurt you any more than you already were.

“I ran into the counter, I di-” You tried to defend, hoping Shawn would believe you because of your usual clumsiness, but he could see right through you.

“No you didn’t. Y/n, who did this? Who hurt you?” You could hear it in his voice that this was hurting him too, and that’s when you noticed the tears threatening to spill from his own eyes.

“Shawn, I–“

“Did Jason do this?” Shawn interrupted. “I swear, if he hurt you I will–”

“No. It wasn’t Jason.”

“Oh...” Shawn trailed off. He knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. “Do you uh, do you want to come back to my place?”

You nodded, and Shawn helped you to his car. He opened the door for you like a gentleman before going to the drivers side and buckling in.

When he started the car, he turned on the radio, lowering the volume. When you were upset, Shawn knew you hated silence, but you also didn’t want anything to be too loud. You always loved to have some sort of soft music playing in the background.

Neither you or Shawn talked the whole way back to his apartment, but Shawn kept looking over at you every few seconds, staring at you while you stared out the window.

You had changed. Not much, but enough for Shawn to notice. Your hair was longer, and it looked a bit thinner. It was a little bit lighter too. Your skin was pale and dull, almost ghostly. He couldn’t tell if you were actually skinnier, or if you were just carrying yourself with less confidence than usual. He wasn’t sure if either situation was better than the other.

Shawn parked in his usual spot in the garage, and you followed him up to the apartment, still not speaking.

After sitting on the couch for a while, watching Harry Potter and the Chamber of secrets for the millionth time, your head resting in Shawn’s lap as his feet were elevated on his coffee table, you decided to talk.

“I was at a party.”

Shawn looked down at you, a little shocked, but he let you continue.

“Jason loves parties.”

Shawn winced at the mention of your boyfriend, but he didn’t want to risk interrupting you.

“He was drunk as usual. All of his friends too.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “They’re all very, um,” you hesitated. “Handsy? When they’re drunk, they’re handsy. I usually just deal with it, because it wasn’t anything crazy. They’d grab me, make comments, but it was never anything I couldn’t handle, but it was different tonight.”

Shawn’s heart was breaking as he looked down at you. You were speaking so calmly, so collected. He hated himself for not knowing what you were going through this whole time. He should’ve checked on you instead of just accepting the fact that you didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Jason, h-he didn’t care.” You started to stutter, so Shawn moved a strand of hair out of your face, his hand trailing up to your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into the fabric of your shirt as you continued to talk. “One of his friends, he grabbed me, but he didn’t let go. His hands were digging into my sides. He pulled me into him, and he whispered into my ear. Something about Jason not deserving me–”

Shawn couldn’t help but interrupt. “He’s right. He doesn’t deserve you.”

You ignored him and kept talking. “He-he started kissing my neck. He was licking my skin. I tried to tell him to stop, but he covered my mouth.”

Shawn felt tears dripping from your eyes onto his jeans, and he wished he could stop them, but he knew you wouldn’t let him do anything until you finished your story.

“His other hand, he–” You let out a choked sob at the memory, deciding to forego that information and continue. “I, uh, I bit his hand.” You chuckled. “But he, he didn’t like that. He turned me around, and he pushed me into the cabinet.” You felt Shawn’s whole body tense, but you didn’t stop. “He pushed me hard. The side of my body slammed into the counter top... thus the bruise. He pressed my face into the cabinet.”

“Y/n-” Shawn tried, but you stopped him.

“Someone came into the kitchen and he let go, so I ran. I just kept going, and when I realized I was lost I-I called you...”

After that, Shawn was sure you were done talking.

“Y/n...” Shawn spoke softly. “Look at me.”

You turned your body so you were laying on your back, looking up at Shawn from his lap.

“You deserve so much better than that.”

“I know.”

“You can’t go back to Jason.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He, he didn’t want me talking to you. It wasn’t bad at first. He was so great, so considerate, so perfect. I-I loved him.” You hated saying it, but it was true.

Shawn probably hated hearing it even more than you hated to say it, but he brushed it off. This was about you, not him.

“I’m sorry it changed. I really am. You don’t deserve that.”

“Thanks, Shawn.”

“Do you still have your apartment?” Shawn asked, hoping you’d say yes but knowing your answer would be no.

“No... everything I have is at Jason’s.” You spoke with regret laced in your voice. You didn’t want to have to see him again.

“It’s okay, babe. You can stay here.”

“No, Shawn. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re never a burden,” he assured. “I want you here.”

“Have I ever told you you’re amazing?” You asked him, smiling up at him as much as you could.

“Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it.” Shawn joked, earning a chuckle from you, but the laugh was cut short as you felt the pain from the worsening bruise on your stomach.

“Hey,” Shawn placed his large hand on the other side of you for comfort, the side that wasn’t turning three different colors. “You’re going to be okay, okay? You’re tough. You’re strong. You’re going to get through this.”

You nodded up at him, trying not to cry.

“No tears.” He used the pad of his thumb to wipe at your eyes. “You’re going to get through this, and I’m going to help you, okay?”

“Okay.” You spoke this time, confidently.

Shawn smiled down at you. “There she is.”

— please feel free to send feedback or requests :) —

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes tour #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes angst

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doedreamss · 5 years ago

Text

Spend the Night with the Hangman

Hangman Adam Page stripper cowboy AU, thanks to @robwiethoff‘s reply to this ask. Also, I said I would, so I’m tagging @vonschweetz I hope you like it babe!

Summary: Belle Foster grew up in a rural farm town but had big aspirations in life. Leaving home meant breaking up with her childhood sweetheart and the man she believed to be her soulmate, Adam Page. Five years later she’s been working in New York City and is engaged to a man who is set to one day inherit a multibillion-dollar company. Belle’s maid-of-honor Jenny decided to surprise her by throwing her a bachelorette party back home, and remembers Belle had a thing for cowboys once upon a time… what Jenny doesn’t realize is Belle only ever had eyes for one cowboy… and what Belle doesn’t know is that very cowboy is about to come into her life again, hired by an innocent, unknowing Jenny to be the entertainment for one wild night…

Rating: Explicit (there is a very descriptive smut scene)

Length: 10,088 words

Available below the cut or on AO3 HERE

A happy, glee-filled squeal split the air, followed by a suspicious gaggle of giggles from the rest of Belle’s closest girlfriends. She raised a brow but was interrupted from asking what they up to by her best friend and maid of honor, Jenny, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her firmly away from the window that overlooked the front yard.

“No peeking!” Jenny chided and drove Belle back through the open archway toward the family room, which’d been decorated with streamers, balloons, and confetti bits. A banner strung up on the back wall read in glittery, cursive gold: MISS TO MRS. CHEERS, BITCHES!

“Put on your sash and sit here,” Jenny commanded. With a firm grip on Belle’s shoulders, she steered her around to a chair that’d been strangely drug to the center of the room, in front of the u-shaped couch, and left alone. Belle was pushed into it and handed the silky white sash which read (also in glittery gold writing): BRIDE TO BE. Jenny had been pressuring Belle to wear the sash any moment she noticed she’d taken it off.

“What’s going on, Jenny?”

Already this bachelorette party was too much. Belle had told Jenny she didn’t want anything. A small night out on the city, maybe. Jenny had taken that for code that Belle wanted it back home in her rural farm town instead of the lively, designer boutique lined Madison Avenue of Upper East Side in New York City, where she now lived. This was the last place Belle wanted to be, especially when her wedding to the set-to-inherit-his-father’s-multibillion-dollar-business-most-wanted-bachelor Jonathan Wright was fast approaching.

“It’s your final surprise of the night, I swear.” Jenny said and reached to fix the sash across Belle’s pretty blue dress.

“What did I tell you about surprises?”

“Something about how you hate them because you want to know exactly what you’re getting yourself into, so you can calculate all the risks involved and see whether or not it’s worth it,” Jenny spoke fast, not taking a breath, and then exhaled and fixed Belle with a pointed stare. “And probably a bunch of other boring mumbo-jumbo that I decided not to listen to. This is your last night for freedom and I’m tired of seeing you so busy worrying about the risks of living that you won’t even live for just one second.”

Belle just stared. Jenny grinned and gently rubbed her shoulder.

“Anyways, I remember you saying you used to have a thing for cowboys, so I looked around and just so happened to find you, future Mrs. Wright, a cowboy stripper. He comes with great reviews!”

“Jenny! No!” Belle’s face went pale, and then burned hot.

She’d met Jenny shortly after moving to New York, and while Jenny thought she remembered Belle having a thing for cowboys, she hadn’t remembered it entirely true. Belle had a thing for a cowboy. One. The boy she’d grown up with, who she’d played tag with by the creek; who smeared mud on her and promised her it’d keep the mosquito’s from eating her alive; who’d played all sorts of make believe games until their parents hollered and they’d been forced to split; who’d called her once they got cell phones and kept her up so late, both their eyelids were drooping in class the next day; who’d missed her mouth the first time he’d leaned in to kiss her, too excited, and then blushed bright red with embarrassment until she gently took his face, pulled him in and pressed her lips right against his; who’d made love to her in the bed of his pick-up truck, where he’d laid down enough blankets to qualify for a bed and stolen all the pillows from his house, even the pretty ones his mama would kill him for taking out.

The cowboy with the…

Her friends in attendance were whispering. The front door had opened and closed. They came rushing in, a gaggle of geese, casting grins and winks her way. Someone in another room pushed the button on a stereo, or maybe their phone, and the sounds of men vocalizing an all-too-familiar beat preceded the rip of a guitar and the opening of a song that was half rock, half country. The women all cheered, too familiar and overly delighted that it’d be the first song the handsome cowboy stripped to. At the opening lyrics: Well I walk into the room, passin’ out hundred-dollar bills and it thrills, and it kills…

He walked in with his curly blond hair momentarily tamed by a wide-brim black cowboy hat tugged low; his chest bare, a black vest over his back, unfastened so his thick torso was unobstructed from greedy eyes; tight, black boxer-briefs that hid nothing from the imagination; black and silver chaps hung on a leather belt secured by a large, glittering silver buckle; black cowboy boots; and a black bandanna with white bullet-pattern pulled up to the bridge of his nose.

… blue eyes.

Belle’s widened as they met his, and she didn’t miss how his did, too. They fell down her front, over the sash Jenny had so happily placed across her, and then around the room. He was taking everything in. The last time they’d saw one another, she’d been breaking things off with him and moving far, far away. She was never supposed to be back here. They were never supposed to be back here.

Belle felt like the walls were closing in.

“Take a breath, tiger,” Jenny leaned on the couch to whisper in her ear, “you look like you’re about to pass out. I know he’s good looking, but…”

But Jenny didn’t understand. It wasn’t only that he was good looking… it wasn’t only that her heart was racing and her body aching, seeing how age had done him more than well… it was him and everything that lay left unsaid between them. Surely, he’d be respectful enough to drop the act, to apologize to the ladies perched on the edge of the couch cushions, waiting for the show. He’d say it was unprofessional of him to dance for someone he used to know, and he’d free her from what was sure to be the most delectable torture she’d ever know.

Those blue eyes stopped surveying the room and landed square on her. She waited for her salvation, for him to take the bandanna from his mouth (or leave it – she wasn’t sure she could handle seeing how handsome age had made his face, too) and excuse himself from the party.

Cause I saddle up my horse and I ride into the city! I make a lot of noise cause the girls they are so pretty…

Big & Rich still crooned from the other room. Belle could have sworn, despite the bandanna, she saw one side of his cheek lift higher than the other as if he was smirking at her. His fingers moved to the edge of the vest and he was quick to tear it from his body, followed by a cacophony of drunken women shouting and hollering with excitement. He moved toward her, closing the distance, that bandanna still hiding half his face from her view, but those blue eyes never once leaving her.

He threw his thick shadow across her, blocking out the light as he leaned over her, profile inches from hers. Her friends made sinful little noises, excited that the hired entertainment was invading Belle’s personal space.

“Congratulations on your engagement, Miss Foster,” he spoke low behind that bandanna, so only she would hear him. His fingers trailed down her arms and the touch was electric. She hated her body for responding, raising gooseflesh wherever he did.

“Adam,” she barely breathed his name like a plea just loud enough for him to hear. Don’t torment me. Don’t do this.

“Nu-uh,” a low drawl, those baby blues – intense in their color, especially with half his face hidden by his pulled-up bandanna – jumped to her brown eyes. He pulled to full height, either one of those thick thighs, muscled beneath the fat, framed her legs as he hovered over her. She was forced to trail her eyes up his bare chest, fingers twitching at her sides and dying to remember the feeling of touching him, and the expressions he made when she did. Her mouth was dry by the time she was looking up at his face.

“Tonight, li’l missy,” he drawled, loud enough now for her friends to hear too, “you’re spendin’ the night with the hangman.”

Cheers erupted, and Adam began to move over Belle in time to the beat of his music selections. Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy was an obvious choice, albeit a perfect one, and it was clear he had a planned routine for the entire bit. The attention was all hers, leaving her a speechless, flustered, bright-red mess as he gyrated and turned, giving her ample view of the front and back, as well as her friends enjoying the party.

Eventually he stepped away, but she didn’t have time to be thankful. His back was to her, and she was distracted, looking at the muscles developed there. Working his family ranch had always left him a man built of hard labor, but age had only made what was already great even better, and she could see the strength he had now. He’d always been handsome. Thick. Sturdy. With that back to her, Adam raised his hand and tugged the bandanna down around his throat. A few of her friends’ eyes widened, and shy smiles spread wide.

As handsome as ever, she guessed, even though he hadn’t turned to look at her yet.

Adam pulled the cowboy hat off those blond curls and jerked his head to toss them into disarray, the kind of way that made a woman mad with want to rake her hands through them. Fuck, he knew what he was doing. On the heel of his boot he turned and landed those dangerous eyes on her, and Belle felt her heart stop as heat spread down her body and pooled between her legs. She tried to take a breath, tried to look unaffected, but knew by the glint in his eye that she’d failed.

His steps stalked the small gap he’d put between them, and he placed his hat atop her head. This was different than when they were dating, and he’d gently laid it over her and smiled a big, happy smile when she’d playfully tipped it toward him. The look on his eyes didn’t speak toward anything but what he was doing now – moving his hips and body to show all these women the sort of moves he possessed in the bedroom.

With his hat on her head, Adam dropped in front of her, his round ass out of those chaps for all her friends to squeal and giggle about. Glancing over his shoulder he threw them a grin, and then those wide palms settled firm and heavy on her knees as his attention became all hers again. Her eyes widened. He added pressure to her knees, guiding them apart, and then slid his body in between her thighs. His blond beard rubbed the bare skin of her inner-knee and sent tingles up between her legs, making her adjust her seat and clench her jaw.

A light in his eyes told her he’d done it purposefully. She glared at him. He grinned.

With his fingers splayed, he pressed them along the inside of her thighs and ran them slowly up, as if teasing that he’d sneak them beneath the flirty material of her dress. He slipped them back just as his fingertips brushed her dress hem and settled them for leverage on her thighs. His face ran up her front, between her breasts, just inches from touching her. The material of her dress was thin, and she could feel his hot breath wherever he went. God… this was torture. Wonderful, awful torture.

He stood and reached to grab her hand with his body still moving to the beat – the track had changed as he did his due diligence and paid his undivided attention to the bride-to-be, and now Trace Adkin’s voice crooned: Now she’s comin’ home to visit holdin’ the hand of a wild-eyed boy with a farmer’s tan… - and grinned down his naked front at her. Belle was flush and hot. She knew she must look a picture to her city friends who’d traveled back home with her for this very purpose. They’d never seen Belle look flustered. Belle didn’t let anything get under her skin.

Even her fiancé, Jonathan Wright, had never made her respond like this… but that was the point, wasn’t it? He was safe.

Adam’s thick fingers, calloused with hard work, were gentle but persistent as he guided her touch down his front. The chorus of cheers made him grin ruefully, and he even winked toward the ladies perched on the couch as Belle’s touch ran with too much familiarity down his firm, thick pecs and along the line of his torso. He kept guiding her hand down, and she licked her lips as her eyes dropped and followed its path, making her dizzier and dizzier with desire. She glanced the material of his little black underwear and the obvious lump pressed, stretching it in a bulge.

He wasn’t going to… put her hand there… was he?

Belle looked up and met his eyes. God, they were so blue… Was he doing this on purpose? Tormenting her this way? Reminding her how good it was to touch him and showing her how handsome age had made him? Reminding her what it looked like when he was moving over her, touching her, making love to her until she was an exhausted, gratified, quivering mess? Was this some sort of… punishment?

Or was it not that personal, and he was just doing the job he was hired to do?

Adam’s eyes were on hers. His fingers curled a little tighter around her hand, and his nostrils flared as he skimmed her touch along the line of his belt buckle. The other hand grabbed her other, free hand, and joined them so both her hands were on the buckle. He lifted his hands up, leaving hers lingering as if she was in control.

“Your move, little lady.” His rural country accent was even thicker than normal.

Half of her wanted to roll her eyes and break through this confident, cocky attitude he had, telling him and everyone there she still remembered when he was scared of the dark as a kid, and she’d let him borrow her pony nightlight… but the other half wanted to grab him and drag him off right then and there, forget the party, forget her commitments, and forget the last five years that’d left them apart.

“Woooo!” Encouragement from Jenny and the rest of her girls, who were well into their alcohol and had been singing and dancing where they sat on the couch, offering their money to Adam as he entertained. “Strip him!”

“Yeah!”

“Let’s see how hung the hangman is!” A wild chorus of giggles. Adam played into them with charm, giving them another wink and a smile.

Belle knew she should tear her hands away and be done with the whole thing. She looked up his naked front, towering over her, and he dipped his chin to his chest and looked down where she was seated. She tugged, and the belt unbuckled. He grinned, but she saw the initial surprise. He didn’t think she was going to follow-through. Now they were both challenging each other.

Adam stepped back so he could take the chaps off and leave them in an unceremonious pile beside his previously-discarded vest. Belle was still wearing his hat, peering up at him beneath the shadow of the wide-brim, head tilted back. He dipped a hand to hers again, recapturing it enough to pull her up to her feet. Everything he did was smooth and well-practiced. Belle tried to ignore the sudden heat of jealousy, thinking of all the other women who’d gotten to see this routine of his. Since when had Adam begun stripping?

He stood her up and swapped their positions, sitting down in the chair and sliding his free hand to her hip, pushing her around to face him. The hand still holding hers pulled her in, and he quirked his eyebrow – the one that had the little scar running through it – with a triumphant edge to his grin. Did he think he’d won? Did he think she was too embarrassed to give him a lap dance in front of her friends? Did he forget how competitive she was when he challenged her? She wasn’t about to back down now.

Belle pulled her hand out of his and placed it on his shoulder. The other found its perch on the other side, and she dipped her hips and lowered them, straddling him. The country music filled the room and mixed with the supportive cheers of her friends as Belle grinded her hips against his. The floaty material of her dress rucked up her thighs, and she watched Adam’s muscle jump in his cheek beneath his beard as he suddenly clenched his teeth. She swayed, moving her hips the way she remembered he liked, and only then realized how quickly the rest of the world was falling away… even the screams of her friends.

All she could see was the handsome, blond cowboy she was straddling, and all she could feel was his cock, filling, getting hard, rubbing along her panties. She was sure, if they didn’t have the history they’d have, this would be crossing some sort of line. But she knew his body and he knew hers, and it wasn’t hard at all to find her place grinding on his lap, stroking him with the intent to make him lose his composure and shake that cocky attitude he’d had tonight. The gasps and hollers of her friends didn’t embarrass her – Belle could only look down at Adam, leaning back and looking up at her, and grin at the look across his face. He was struggling. How badly did he want to take his hands away from the chair, where his fingers were curled so tightly his knuckles were white, and put them on her?

A stuttered gasp and whispered moan left her in surprise, eyelids fluttering, as the thick head of his cock pressed just right – Adam’s hips had lifted a little in the chair – and skimmed her clit. Their eyes met. Sure, he was struggling… but so was she. His body was responding to hers the same way hers was to his. Kismet. They couldn’t help it. There was too much story. Too much familiarity. Their bodies knew one another like pieces of a puzzle, finally allowed to click together again. Adam risked it, and guided her to grind again, just once more, and this time she had to grit her teeth to keep from moaning as electric tingles spread down between her thighs.

Carefully, he guided her off, and stood. His cock was tucked discreetly, so rather than looking like he had an obvious hard-on, it’d just made his bulge swell even more impressively, and a few of her friends eyed it and elbowed one another before giggling and blushing and whispering dirty things not quietly enough.

Adam turned her around in a spin and slapped his palm against the fatty curve of her ass. It was meant to signal that her turn was up – that he’d treated the bride-to-be the way he should have – but Belle remembered how much he’d loved to feel her ass, and she missed the familiar sting his contact gave it. He plucked his hat off her head and looked at her for a lingering moment. Belle didn’t give him the chance to say something that’d reveal their history to her friends. She moved away, giving careful smiles to her friends who were overcome with excitement by the events that had transpired, and excused herself with some lie about needing water.

It wasn’t a lie entirely. Belle poured herself a glass of ice water and slipped outside, away from the cheers, and stepped out onto the front porch. The wild noise fell to a hush, hidden behind closed doors as she sat on the porch swing and held her glass of cold water over her lap. She couldn’t blame Jenny. Jenny didn’t know about Adam. No one in New York knew about Adam. It wasn’t that Belle was ashamed of Adam… it was just that it was too hard to keep him while moving forward the way she thought she was supposed to.

They’d tried the long-distance thing when she went away to University, but even though that’d only been a state over, they’d struggled. When Belle was offered a position right out of University, he’d been happy for her, until she’d told him that it was in New York City and she didn’t intend to turn it down. His parents needed him to help on the farm and couldn’t make it without him. Life had to go on for the both of them. They’d broke each other’s hearts, and yet Belle still felt like she was to blame. If she could have been happy with a more conventional life, to be Adam’s little wife on his parent’s ranch until he inherited it and it became theirs, they would have been happy. But she wanted to reach for more and she’d thought she would find it in New York.

Still, there were times, more frequently now that her marriage date was fast approaching, that Belle felt a tight pressure of anxiety in her chest and a need to get away from the loud, busy New York streets and back into the quiet nights of her hometown. She was at a crossroads, but she’d put up roadblocks on the path back home and swore she wouldn’t pretend there was a way back. If she was being true to herself, she didn’t want to be in New York like she thought she did, and she didn’t quite click with everyone the way she did with people back home. She’d told Jenny she wanted to stay in New York for her party, but maybe that’s because she’d been afraid of the truth when she finally came out here.

And now that truth was staring her dead in the eyes.

Belle wasn’t certain how long she’d been sitting outside, but her ice had melted in her cup and the condensation on the outside wet the material of her dress by the time the front door opened. She glanced, expecting to see Jenny or one of her other friends, but saw Adam instead. He was carrying his equipment, chaps buckled around his waist and hat in hand along with his vest and bandanna. He blinked when he saw her and stalled in his step. His truck was waiting just down the path out the front yard, and just a mile and a half down the street he’d be back home.

“Is this how you go around town now?” Belle cleared her throat to break the tension that’d swelled between them.

“Huh? Oh,” he glanced down his front and grinned before he shrugged, “I mean, it does better advertising than a billboard would, right?”

Belle rolled her eyes and sighed a breath out of her nose with faint amusement.

“I guess I’m supposed to really say congrats now, huh?” His voice was tight. She looked at him, his eyes were dark, and he gestured at the sash across her front. Belle looked down at it.

“Oh, right.” She plucked the white silk and chewed at her lip. “Thanks.”

“Lucky guy.” He said, and the cushions sighed as he sat quietly down beside her without invitation. He was on the opposite side of the porch swing, leaving a cushion of space between them. Belle tried not to think about how many nights she’d tucked in as close as she could against him, laid her head on his shoulder and talked about anything and nothing for hours as he swung them gently back and forth.

“I don’t know about that.” Belle said.

“What’s that mean?” Adam was watching her. Belle tried (and failed) again not to get distracted by how handsome he’d grown in these last five years.

“Jonathan…” Belle trailed off, suddenly realizing she didn’t know what to say. To the boy who’d always been her best friend she wanted to tell the truth: some days she didn’t even think her fiancé knew she existed. To the first man she’d ever loved she wanted to tell the truth: the way Adam made her feel in that room, preforming a staged strip routine that was mild at best (she’d seen just how raunchy some of those shows could get), was the most alive she’d felt in years.

To the man whose heart she broke…

“He’s different.” She concluded and looked back at her hands curled around the glass cup.

“Different how?” He wasn’t letting up.

“He just has a lot on his plate. His dad owns about a dozen businesses and has his hands in dozens more, and with Jonathan being his successor, he’s either behind closed doors in meetings all day, flying international to meetings all around the world, or responding to someone off his phone every other second.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“He’s literally talking to people all day, Adam.” Belle frowned at him. “How could he be lonely?”

“I meant you.”

“Oh.”

Quiet. They could hear the soft chirps of the grasshoppers in the tall grass and the flutter of the moth’s wings as they flew around the yellow, glowing porch light.

“Is it?”

Belle swallowed. “Sometimes, I guess.” All these years later and she couldn’t lie to him, especially not when he talked in that sweet, soft voice that beckoned all truth from within. She knew if she looked at those blue eyes and found them gentle and searching, she’d lose all hope of fighting to keep from crawling into his arms.

“Belle…”

“Adam, we shouldn’t talk like this.”

He pushed himself off the swing and it swayed gently. She glanced at his retreating back and watched him collect the things he’d set aside before marching down the porch steps to his pick-up truck. Really? Had that really made him so mad he wasn’t even going to say goodbye? Belle frowned in astonishment at his retreating figure. Was he really that childish?

Adam chucked his things on the bench seat of his pick-up truck and closed the door, but didn’t climb in. He turned around and cocked his head, peering up at her on the porch.

“Come on, Foster. Let’s go for a ride.” He slapped his palm on the bed-frame of his truck. “For old time’s sake.”

She regretted thinking he was going to march off without a goodbye. This was worse. Much worse.

“Adam, I can’t just go with you.” She gestured at the house behind her. “All my friends are here throwing me a bachelorette party, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Yeah, about that…” He squinted back at the house and then looked at her again, “I actually don’t think they’ll miss you that much. They’re three sheets to the wind and playing ‘pin the penis on the cowboy’ which, by the way, I declined being a live stand-in for once I noticed you’d left.”

“I suppose you expect a thank you for that?”

“I do.” He grinned.

“Do you at least have a shirt and some pants you can put on?” Belle asked, setting her glass aside and walking to the edge of the porch, right before the steps, tilting her head at him.

“I’m afraid I left my change of clothes at home. Like I said, you’re spending the night with the hangman.” He gestured down his front as if showing himself off. Belle knew he didn’t have a pompous ego, but his playful banter as if he did was making her smile despite everything.

“Please,” Belle snickered.

“Don’t act like you don’t like what you’re lookin’ at, darlin’.” He drew heavy on his accent again, and Belle tried to ignore the way her stomach tightened with want. “I know what I felt when you were grinding on top of me back there.”

“That so? I know what I felt too, cowboy.” Belle shot back before she could stop herself.

A hungry look flickered briefly across his face.

Belle looked back at the closed door just as an eruption of laughter exploded inside. Adam was right, they were too drunk to worry about her right now. They’d notice in a little bit that she wasn’t around. Belle sighed and pulled her phone out, sending a quick text to Jenny. Met up with an old friend. BBL. Don’t wait up. Belle clicked the send button and descended the steps quickly, surprising Adam, who jumped and moved quick to jog around to the passenger’s side and swing the door open for her. Belle tugged the sash from around her and, wadding it up, chucked it into the yard as if she were simply too lazy to go back and lay it on the porch.

In truth, there was something sort of… satisfying about tossing it away the way she did. Maybe it was that same feeling that’d made her uncomfortable every time Jenny noticed she wasn’t wearing it and made her put it back on.

Belle climbed in and Adam closed the door behind her, moving to the driver’s side and starting the truck up. He’d pushed his things – the hat and the vest – to the floor of the truck and left the bench seat empty between them. Neither of them said anything for a good minute, as if they were afraid to ruin what they’d just agreed to. As if the minute she spoke up, Adam would suddenly pull over, reach and pop the passenger door open and shove her out. Or the minute he spoke up, Belle was going to come to her senses and scream at him to take her back home or face some sort of consequence.

But they couldn’t sit and stew forever.

“So…” Belle glanced over at him and he looked at her. They smiled and looked forward again. “Um… how long have you been… doing…” she glanced again and waved a hand up and down his still practically naked body. “This?”

“Stripping?” He asked casually, as if amused that she was shy about it. “A couple years now. Work slowed down around the farm, my dad sold off about half of it to pay some debt we’d accrued from a bad harvest and we needed a little extra cash. A buddy of mine suggested I look into stripping, since cowboys are always in, and we’re only a forty-five-minute drive outside a city big enough to get clientele for it to be worth it. He owns a business called The Elite, and they do shows around the U.S. He was going to bring me on, but I told him I wanted to try and get a feel for it locally… and I’ve still got to do my fair share helping on the farm, especially with dad getting older.”

“Oh,” Belle said, surprised. “And has it been worth it?”

“It’s gotten me a fair share of money, I guess. It helps when times are tough.” Adam shifted and cruised his old pick-up down familiar country backroads. “You really didn’t know?”

“What, that you’d become a stripper? No!” Belle laughed and shook her head.

“Ah, I thought…” He trailed off.

“You… thought I hired you… on purpose for my bachelorette party?”

“When I saw the name I just kinda figured…”

“Adam,” Belle looked at him, brows pinching inward, “I wouldn’t have done that to you on purpose.” It only occurred to her then… what if this wasn’t hard for Adam anymore? Seeing her? Their break-up? What if she was the one stuck in the past, and she was assuming he was there with her? There was only one way to find out.

“Isn’t it hard for you to see me?”

Adam slowed the truck and pulled off the road. The gravel crunched beneath the tires and they bounced for a moment in the cab over uneven terrain before he stopped it entirely. His hand pushed the gear in park and he turned the keys, stilling the ignition. It was quiet for a few seconds.

“I don’t know what’s harder,” he said, still looking out the windshield at the fields illuminated by his truck’s headlights, “seeing you or not seeing you.”

“Adam…”

“Belle…I…” He exhaled. His thick fingers left the steering wheel, turning off the lights and pinched his low, heavy brow. “Leading up to tonight,” he started, pulling his hand away and leaning back, peering out at the moonlit road they sat besides, “I kept running over and over in my head what I’d do when I saw you. I kept rehearsing everything I wanted to tell you. You know there were a couple times I actually thought about buying a plane ticket to New York, figuring out where you lived and showing up at your doorstep?”

She could feel him looking at her, but she wasn’t brave enough to meet his eyes. Her heart was in her throat.

“Belle,” his voice cracked, soft with emotion, “Belle, look at me.”

She swallowed and turned her eyes to his. How tenderly he watched her made her want to cry. No one looked at her the way Adam did, no matter what mood he was in. She could read his heart in his expression.

“I just need to tell you, no matter if it makes you so angry you get out of this truck and try to walk back home-” she’d done that one time before when they’d fought, and he’d trailed her for half a mile, yelling at her to get back in while she raised her chin and refused to give him the time of day “-but if this is the last chance I have to say it before you’re off and married, I’m gonna say it.”

Adam reached, and gently gathered her hands in his.

“I have always loved you, Belle Foster, and I’m always gonna love you. No matter what.”

“Adam,” she sighed, trying to fight how wretchedly her heart ached, and the way that returned sentiment clung to her tongue, just begging her to find the strength to set them free. “What do I do with that?” She said instead, her shoulders dropping.

He pulled his hands away slow.

“Whatever you want to.”

Belle looked at him again, and saw the fear of rejection, the hope that she wouldn’t, the desire inspired by their closeness, and the anger that she was getting married to someone that wasn’t him. His face was so familiar and yet, age nearly made it foreign. Even his blond curls, he’d let them grow out, and the look suited him. Idly, Belle reached between them, and pinched one between her thumb and forefinger, feeling the soft texture. She scooted closer on the bench seat… and closer…

He turned toward her, and Belle leaned in until their lips brushed gently against one another, testing, curious… They pulled back just enough for their eyes to meet…

Adam’s large hands flew in opposite directions. One went to the back of her head, tangled tight in her hair, and all but pushed her mouth hard against his. The other ran down her spine, caught the zipper of her dress and yanked it open in one fluid motion. He pressed into the open material, lingered over the soft, bare skin of her back and pushed down until it could curl under her ass. He squeezed the fat there and encouraged her closer to him. His tongue slid into her mouth and his beard scratched her face as he turned his head, seeking the best angle to kiss her.

Five years of pent up passion made them wild for one another. Belle’s fingers ran down his bare chest, curling and lightly raking her nails down his skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to make him inhale with a hard hiss once their mouths broke apart.

He didn’t linger but leaned in to litter hot kisses along her jawline and down the hollow dip of her neck. His fingers left her hair and ran down over the front of her dress, palm curling over her left breast. Memory reminded him where her nipples were, and his thumb stroked over the material before he gathered the fat and pinched it just tight enough to elicit a soft moan of pain and pleasure from her kiss-swollen lips. His hands relaxed and slipped up, pressing between her cleavage and into her dress to touch her breasts freely, no clothes obstructing him.

“Oh… Adam,” Belle sighed, eyes rolling as he suckled the sensitive skin on her neck.

The hand that’d been gripping the fat of her ass slipped around to the front, and blindly pushed at the gathered material of her dress until it could crawl under. She felt his touch move up her thighs, no patience left, fingertips squeezing beneath the elastic of her white-lace panties. With familiarity and boldness, Adam’s fingers slipped into her wet cunt, and his thumb rolled over her clit, teasing it and sending shivers of pleasure down her thighs. Belle’s fingers curled around his blond locks, and she was too busy being swept away with pleasure to worry if she was tugging too hard.

Body responding, Belle’s hips arched toward his touch, and she moaned the more his fingers flicked and rubbed and teased her clit. She knew she was getting soaked.

“Fuck,” he cursed suddenly and pulled away from where he’d been leaving red marks down her chest. His eyes met hers – they were nearly black, the pretty blue eaten to slivers as his pupils dilated – and he was breathing heavy and fast, his naked chest rising and falling with effort. “Too cramped in here,” he said.

“Do you have any blankets?”

Adam grinned and gently pushed her away so he could step outside his truck and reach behind the seat, quickly pulling folded-up blanket after folded-up blanket free. Each of them was chucked into the bed of his truck, and any time their eyes caught, they smiled at each other like they were young and dumb and in love again… not like she was supposed promised to be married to someone else, and not like she was going to be going back to New York, and not like Adam was going to be staying back here. They’d both agreed to chuck reality and morality out the window and no one was around to remind them why they shouldn’t.

Adam was quick to jump up into the bed and pile the blankets one after the other on top of one another. While he did that, Belle slipped out and came around back, leaning on the tailgate and watching him at work. When he’d finished, he bent toward her and offered his hand.

“Milady.”

“Milord,” she replied playfully, slipping her hand in his and hoisting herself up and into the bed beside him.

Adam lowered down and laid back, reaching up to grab her hand and pull her down over the top of him, straddling him. Belle pulled the material of her dress from where it’d gathered between them, so she’d be sure once she pressed her hips down on his there was nothing between them but the very thin material of their underwear. He groaned, and his hands framed her hips, guiding the pace he wanted her to grind on him, lifting his hips to erase the space between them.

“Mmm, yeah,” he grunted, eyes rolling back, “fuck, Belle…”

He was getting hard again. This time they didn’t have to be careful in front of a group of people. This time Belle let her weight sit on him, spread over him, and ran the length of his semi-hard cock between her lips, feeling him despite the thin layers of clothing they still wore. She angled her hips so his wide, fat head would press her already teased clit, and moaned, thighs clenching tight around his hips, knees pushing down against the blankets.

“Adam,” she whined.

“Keep going darlin’,” he encouraged with a tight voice, “keep goin’ until you cum. I’m not gonna stop tonight until you’ve cum so much you can’t walk tomorrow.” He learned the pace, and understood right when he’d hit her clit, and began thrusting his hips up to make it more intense. He was getting harder, and she could feel that familiar thickness that used to stretch her enough that it was nearly painful. Nearly.

“Fuck! Adam! I’m… I’m going to!”

“Yeah Belle,” he huffed, staring up at her grinding on top of him, “cum for me, li’l darlin.”

“AhH!” She stilled and clenched tight, fingers splayed over his chest curling inward, body jerking as her thighs trembled around him. She came, soaking her panties in wet, cunt twitching on his cock.

Adam grinned up at her, lifting one hand from her hip to gently tuck her hair behind her ear. He let her wait until she’d stopped twitching, sensitive, and guided her up and off him. His hands made quick work of unbuckling the silver belt-buckle and pushing the chaps down where he kicked them off with his boots and socks. He paused before removing the little black underwear he was wearing and instead turned his attention toward her. He reached for her dress, laying near off her shoulders, and gently tugged the material down.

She hadn’t been wearing a bra, and her nipples were hard from his previous teasing. Adam’s eyes fell to them and he sighed a breath of wonder through his lips. “God damn,” he swore, “I’ve missed the sight of those.” He leaned in and began to kiss every inch of skin he revealed, as if he meant to cherish it. His fingers moved slow to peel her dress away, giving her enough time to come down from her prior high and work herself into a new, frenzied need the slower he went. Finally, the pair of them were matched, both only in their underwear, but Adam sat up and gently pushed a hand on her shoulder to guide her down until she was lying flat on her back and looking up at him.

He curled his fingers in the elastic of her panties and slid them down slow, cursing again in a whisper as his eyes fell between her legs. The blond hairs of his beard scratched her skin as he bent between her knees and began placing kisses along the sensitive skin on the inside of her legs. He kept advancing until his tongue curled and pushed between her lips, sinking inside and then up, curling and flicking her clit. He moaned into her, and the vibrations drove her wild. She arched toward him, panting, naked, squeezing his head between her thighs as he ate her into delirium.

One hand, its palm flat on the bed of blankets, held his body upright while the other slipped between them, and two fingers sank deep inside her. He suckled and licked her clit while his fingers mimicked the way his cock would thrust inside her and stroked the inner walls of her muscles. He knew from experience it’d take a little time building her back up to a second orgasm so soon, but he didn’t seem to mind. He’d always told her she tasted better than anything he’d ever had on his tongue, and he’d happily get lockjaw if it meant spending hours between her thighs.

Some things never changed.

Belle arched her hips toward him, eyes rolled back in her head, panting, moaning, and whining his name. Her fingers curled tight into the blankets she laid on. He hummed harder and the tip of his tongue flicked over her clit more wildly, mimicking the way a vibrator would jump across it. His beard tickled her as he pressed closer.

“Oohh, oh fuck, Adam, nnng…I’mgonna…”

She locked around him. There was no helping how tightly her thighs squeezed either side of his head. She couldn’t help it if she tried. For a moment she was suspended before the crescendo, and the world seemed as still as she was, and then, all at once and with a half-choked scream, she cried and came against his warm mouth. “ADAM!” Her cry echoed around the farm fields they were parked beside.

Adam was kind enough to lap gently with every pleasurable pulse that caught her body. Eventually, when the pleasurable shivers had stopped, he let her hips rest on the blankets and pulled his fingers from inside her before leaning back and smiling. His clean hand reached up to wipe her wet from his beard before he stuck the fingers that’d been inside her into his mouth, sucking them clean. He leaned back on his calves, between her open legs, and looked down her naked, laid-out body.

“You’re beautiful.” Astonishment in his voice.

Belle looked up him, at the soft bit of fat that lay over hard muscle and his large chest, up to his handsome face looking soft and honest down at her. The moon lit a gentle halo around his blond hair, making some strands look nearly silver. Her heart ached very suddenly, seeing him so beautiful like this, with her naked legs at either side of his thighs where he sat between them.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, knowing the truth was only likely to bring them more heartache, because loving someone didn’t mean everything else was magically solved. When they came away from this strange, wonderful bubble they’d captured themselves inside she’d still have to face a return to New York, her busy career, her expensive upstate apartment, and her fiancé who paid her about as much mind as one would pay a potted plant. From time to time Jonathan might catch his eye on her, and smile and tell her how wonderful she was, but his phone would vibrate, or he’d remember needing to rush off elsewhere and it’d be closed walls all over again.

With Adam… she consumed him the way he did her. Everything else fell away until it was just them, making love beneath the stars.

Hooking his fingers into the elastic of his underwear, he peeled them away and settled between her legs again. Gently, he pushed at the inside of her knees and encouraged her legs to spread before hooking his arms under her thighs and pulling her toward him. The throbbing head of his leaking cock ran between her wet lips and made him grunt, nostrils flaring and body momentarily stiffening. His fingers curled hard into the fat on her thighs, and then he exhaled and opened his eyes on her. He lowered atop her, warm, and she felt his cock pry where she was sticky and wet. Her muscles clenched in anticipation, ready to squeeze tight around him.

“I’ve missed you too,” he breathed in her ear, pressed his lips against her temple, and sank just an inch of his cock barely inside her. “Fuck, Belle…” He pressed the side of his head against hers and his breath stirred her hair. “I don’t have a condom on me, but I… I need you.”

When they were young and stupid they sometimes fucked without on the promise he’d pull out. Now, as adults, they knew better. Then again… did they, really? She was engaged to another man, and the history between them wouldn’t be enough to excuse them for what they were doing now. What they were doing was wrong, but neither of them wanted to think about that. Belle certainly didn’t want a reality check. Not now. Not with the man she’d loved her whole life poised over the top of her, ready to make love to her, with a blanket of twinkling stars shining up above him. Not when she finally felt alive, and like things made sense, despite how wrong this all was and how horrible she should feel.

She couldn’t feel badly about anything when she was with him like this. Honest. Vulnerable. Desperate.

“I don’t care,” she said, and swallowed back the guilt, “I need you Adam.”

It only occurred to her now how lonely she’d been these last few years. She’d felt like she was living life as a ghost of sorts, detached from who she was at her core. As much as she’d wanted to belong in the city, she never felt as alive as she did now. Underneath Adam, poised to make love, the stars above them… Belle felt like she’d finally just come up for air.

Adam slowly sank his cock inside her. Inch by inch, he restrained himself and forced it as slow as possible, as if he wanted to draw out the sensation of what it felt like to be inside her again. A low moan poured out of his open mouth, and Belle, arching toward him, responded with one of her own. Adam knew better than to immediately push all of himself inside – the girls may have been joking when they asked how hung the hangman was, but Belle knew they’d have been impressed to know the truth – and only sank part-ways before easing back and sinking in again.

Propping his weight on one hand, he used the other to gently pinch her chin. Their eyes locked as he pushed in, and shoved a little harder with his hips, making her moan louder. He went deeper with every stroke now, building them as they exchanged hot, panting breaths, moans, and utterances of each other’s names. Adam let his fingers slip away from her chin and run down her body, his calloused, rough fingers rolling her nipple before he bent and swirled the flat of his tongue across it. He spent equal time on both her breasts, kissing and suckling, rolling her nipples between her teeth and pinching just hard enough to make her moan a little louder.

Every thrust of his thick, hard cock ran against that special little spot that most men didn’t understand how to hit. Adam knew just how to hold her hips up, and how to dip his and thrust just right so that Belle’s toes curled, and her moans became needy cries with every hit, gratification like electricity run through her veins.

“Oh fuck, Adam,” Belle’s eyes rolled and her mouth, lips swollen from their passionate kisses, hung wide open. She couldn’t believe she was building toward another orgasm already.

“Yeah,” he grunted, panting over her, eyes leaving her face to look down between them where his hips pushed into hers and made the fat on her body ripple. Sweat trickled down his front and stuck strands of his blond curls to his face. Belle could feel how wet she was, smeared on their thighs the more he fucked her. When was the last time sex had been this good?

It wasn’t just the sex, but the emotions, too. Meeting his eyes, watching the way his jaw clenched and his eyes rolled as he hit a particularly good thrust, or the way he met her gaze and held there, like he wanted to burn her memory into his mind, so he’d never lose it… all of it was almost too much, but she’d never want anything less.

Adam thrusted harder, jaw clenched as he pumped inside her. Belle should have worried he was too lost in their tryst, like she was, and that he wouldn’t pull out. But maybe subconsciously, she didn’t want him to. Maybe he didn’t either. Rather than say anything, Belle screamed his name and arched her hips into his thrusts, building closer and closer yet. Adam shifted, pulling himself upright and running his hands down the curve of her body before they settled on her waist. He was up on his knees between her legs again, and he picked up her hips, resting her weight in her shoulders. Never did his thrusts slow, but as he lifted her up to take the impact of his cock, he started to go faster.

“ADAM!” Belle cried again that night, and her body seized tight around him before she came, and her thighs jerked and twitched.

“Nng-Belle-I’mgonna-” He barely managed, with a thin voice ready to snap, to say those words before he pushed her hips down hard against the blankets and pinned her there. Thrust up as deep as he could inside her, Adam’s body jerked, and his fingers curled almost painfully hard into the fat of her hips. He couldn’t help it, lost in the ecstasy of their shared orgasm, in the same way she couldn’t help but twitch and quiver around him. She felt the heat of his cum inside her. He pulled his cock back slow and pushed in again, drawing out the last few seconds of their joined orgasm.

Then, when they could finally breathe, he all but collapsed on top of her and shifted his weight so he wouldn’t smother her beneath his warm, sweat-sticky body. They lay in quiet for a minute, looking up at the night sky. His hand gently ran up and down her arm, and he leaned to press a kiss against her bare shoulder blade. The fog of their shared gratification began to dissipate, leaving them with the realities that were harder to face.

“What now?” Belle asked, her voice small.

“Hm,” Adam grunted, and pushed some of his blond curls out of his face. “I could go for a burger.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she couldn’t help but laugh, though, and when her eyes found his she saw he was grinning.

Their smiles slowly slipped away, and it left them staring at one another.

“You could always come home,” Adam said, and the hope in his eyes was near enough to break her heart all over again.

“You’ve really never stopped loving me after all this time?” Belle asked, gaze searching his, waiting to see even a flicker of doubt.

None came.

“Never.” Adam confessed, and grabbed one of her hands with his own, bringing it up to press his lips against her knuckles. “You?” She saw that same searching, worried look.

“Never.” She admitted.

He visibly relaxed.

“I tried to stop,” he said after a minute, and when Belle looked at him, saw his gaze was far-off and distracted. He was seeing the past. “I tried to stop loving you. After awhile it was easier to pretend like you’d never existed, but then I’d see something, and I’d start remembering what’d happened there with us and before I knew it…” he trailed off. His eyes, heavy with the honesty he was unburdening, moved up to hers. “Was it easier at least, being in New York?”

“Yes,” she confessed at first, and then frowned and shook her head, “and no. It’s different and busy enough that it provides plenty of distractions, but there’s lots of times I felt lost and alone, too. I’d catch myself tossing and turning in bed, and when I went out on my balcony, hated everything different about it. I never understood how a place could be so excitingly different and so upsettingly foreign.”

Belle had never been able to talk to anyone the way she could talk to Adam. His fingers ran gently down her bare spine, comfortingly touching her even as they lay, naked and tangled beneath the country night sky. How many times had they been here before?

“We always made a good team.” Adam concluded.

“Yeah, we always did.”

The somber truth, which was never far from their conversation, lay in quiet, heavy weight across them again. Adam braced his hand on her hip and slowly eased himself from inside her to start gathering their clothes scattered around the truck bed. He handed hers first and pulled on his tiny black underwear. Despite the very real thing they’d just done and the unanswered questions weighing down, Belle couldn’t help but grin again and shake her head at him.

“What?” He asked, glancing down his front and looking back up at her.

“You… this… I never would have thought you’d turn to stripping. Did you pick out the outfit?”

He’d folded up his chaps in his hand, and glanced at the silver, swirling design that was sewn with a glittering thread meant to catch light and shimmer brightly. “I did, actually,” he said, and grinned as he looked up at her. “Cowboy shit.”

Belle laughed.

“I saw the way you looked at me when I walked in that room,” Adam teased. “You were into it.”

With how cocky he was grinning at her, Belle wanted to lie and tell him she wasn’t. He’d know, though. She glanced around them, where the blankets were rucked up from how their bodies moved as they made love.

“I think it’s pretty fair to say I was into it.”

“Next time I’ll show you the routine where I use my bandanna a little more…”

“And how does one use a bandanna, exactly?” Belle arched a brow, and even though she was happily exhausted, couldn’t deny the excitement that raced like a thrill through her body.

“There’s lots of ways,” Adam replied nonchalantly, reaching out to gently stroke her wrist with his calloused thumb, “I can use it to tie your wrists together… or even as a blindfold…”

“Well then,” Belle tried to keep her voice level, and tried not to think about everything that’d entail, which was hard when he was sitting so close to her, still in just his underwear. “I look forward to the next show, hangman.”

“Does that mean…” He was looking at her, waiting.

“I don’t know what it means,” Belle admitted, “but I’ll tell you what I do know. I don’t know if I can take another five years of not seeing you. Hell, I don’t even know if I can take another day. I have some… things… to take care of and it won’t be overnight…”

Adam reached between them and gathered her hands. “I can be patient.”

“I still have a few months left on my apartment lease, and I’d have to see what kind of jobs there are in commuting distance…”

“You’re not going to scare me off, Foster.”

“You mean that?” Belle watched him carefully. “Last time we tried long distance…”

“Last time we tried long distance I was a twenty-two-year-old boy who thought he was a man, and I feared losing you so badly that I acted like an idiot and lost you anyways. I’ve thought a lot over these last five years, Belle, and I know where I went wrong, and I swear I won’t ever do that again.”

“It wasn’t just you,” Belle said, shaking her head at him. “I was unwilling to compromise too. I thought I needed to be away from this place and everything that reminded me of it, you included. But… you’re my home, Adam. You always have been. Not New York or Paris or Tokyo or wherever else I could wind up… my home is wherever you are.”

He couldn’t hide what her words did to him. The gentle, happy expression across his face made her unable to resist leaning in to press a kiss to his mouth, slow and sweet, before she pulled away again.

“What’s your opinion on the stripping?”

Belle hadn’t been expecting the question. She laughed, then shrugged. “Actually, I like it. There’s something… fun about watching other women go crazy for you, but knowing you’re coming home to me afterwards.”

Adam grinned.

“When does the strip-tour start with your buddy’s business?”

“Actually,” Adam laughed, “pretty soon. My dad’s been doing alright, and I’ll only be away for a few days. I think Cody told me the next show they want to get me in on is in a month and a half or so, out in California.” He paused, regarding her. “Wanna come? I have a few new moves I plan to reveal… and I could use a willing participant to practice on leading up to the show…”

Belle grinned ear-to-ear.

“You’re so on, cowboy.”

#hangman page #what have i done #hapedit

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ryncorrect · 6 years ago

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university!au: day6 wonpil

first of all i will definitely do poorly on this because,,, you know,,,,, he’s so precious and i don’t think my words can do it justice ksbdjshs i wanna make the sweetest scenario for him

but i suck at sweet stuffs smh bye

name: kim wonpil

major: modeling (i still cant believe this is an actual major im living under a rock smh)

other activities: member of music club, keyboardist and main singer of the university band

jae calls him “the backbone” of the music club because wonpil participates in all club events, he always takes part in weekly activities, and he actively finds new recruits

jae on the other side pops up once in a blue moon to play guitar, do shit, then disappears

don’t worry ever since jae starts dating the newest member who happens to be wonpil’s bestie he’s more active now

honestly more than half of their club members joined because wonpil made them to

he’s persuasive and convincing okay you would end up eating rocks if he told you it’s good for health

but he’ll never do that ever bc he speaks no lies okay he’s like the sweetest person in the earth

he’ll cry by the sight of cute puppies, do i have to explain further

wonpil was nominated as the club president but the other candidate park sungjin who’s also his roommate beat him by one vote

well he prefers to be just regular member anyway, that way he can still do a lot of things for the club but with less responsibilities

you see he’s really nice, he’s caring, he’s hardworking, he’s confident, he knows how to present himself and he’s hella attractive

he’s taking modeling as his major do i make myself clear

everyone LOVES wonpil

and i mean sometimes it’s just not only a platonic love but like an “i will give you my heart and soul please marry me” love

too bad he’s oblivious af

someone: i,, i like you wonpil,,,, d-do you like me too?

wonpil: of course!!! you’re my friend!!!!!!!!!

someone: ….oh ok

accidental friendzone

but you know he doesnt actually mean to do that, he just doesn’t think anyone likes him like that

moreover he already has someone in mind

aka the coffee shop girl

aka Y O U

yeah hello guys i am: still lame

the first time he met you was on exams week

everyone was busy and stressed af and running on almost no sleep

except maybe wonpil

not because he was fully prepared but more like he forgot exams week was coming until the day before so he just decided to wing it lol whatevs

anyway his roommate aka sungjin asked him if he could go buy him a double shot espresso so wonpil did

he rarely visits coffee shops tbh and when he does he always orders vanilla latte with extra syrup for himself

wonpil seems to be that kinda person who tries to enjoy coffee but can’t handle the bitter taste its so frickin cute and trust me you think so too

so anywayyyy yeah he never saw you, aka the new barista, before

it was ur first work day as well btw and he was ur first customer

he didn’t know why but watching you being nervous made him nervous too

just imagine a stuttering costumer and a stuttering barista

everyone watched you two with anxiety

but even when wonpil was a nervous wreck he didn’t forget to smile and before leaving he said to you, “thanks, have a great day!!!!!!!!!!!”

honest to god it made your whole day better

anyway let’s move on to the second meeting

he comes back and this time he orders a vanilla latte, but being the clumsy ass that you are, you slightly confused his order

he receives his coffee and takes a sip and he freezes

you ask whats wrong and he’s like,, uh nothing,, the coffee is just,,,, kinda bitter today??? ha,,,hahahhaha,,,,

you stand still

wait

he asked for EXTRA SYRUP not EXTRA SHOT you dumbfucc

you offer to make him a new one and he refuses saying it’s fine!!! but you still feel bad so you insist but he’s like no!!! i gotta stay awake anyway i have an important quiz today i have to study! by the way uhhhh i’ve never seen you around until recently???

you introduce yourself and he introduce himself blablabla it’s awkward and your palms keep sweating for some reason

before wonpil left, he didn’t forget to say “have a great day!! i’ll see you around then!!!”

he’s so sweet uwu

seeing him and making him his vanilla latte (extra syrup) is one of the best parts of your job tbh

and he visits every single time you’re working which makes it better

why is his smile so adorable what the fuck

and there’s something about the way he walks that keeps you looking i mean boiiiii does he know how to present himself holy shit

that feeling when you see someone so beautiful you want to cry

the more you see him the more you want to know about him

what major is he in? what is he usually do outside the class? what kind of person is he? does he have a lot of friends? what’s his hobby? stuffs like that

too bad he always comes when it’s busy at the cafe so you can’t talk too much

neither he ever tries to initiate a conversation with you except his usual “hello! how are you today?” and “thank you, you make the best coffee! have a nice day!! see you!!!”

let’s admit it you highkey have a crush on him and EVERYONE knows

wELL it’s because you always wear that expression like "goddammit why must kim wonpil be so cute if he ain’t gonna ask me on a date” whenever you watch his back as he leaves the cafe

and EVERYONE but YOU knows wonpil’s so into you

whenever someone says something like “just ask him for his number he’ll definitely give it to you” you’re like “wtf nO that’s creepy and he won’t!! he doesn’t even know me!!!”

“he literally only comes when it’s your shift and he always makes sure you’re the one taking his order you oblivious dumbass”

“it’s just a coincidence”

“…..yeah whatever”

but they’re right wonpil’s crushing on you hard

at this point sungjin can even draw a portrait of you although he hasn’t actually met you before

that’s how much wonpil talks about you

from your whole adorable appearance to how cute your little cough is, or how he adores your little smile and the sparks in your eyes when he compliments your coffee, or he’ll describe your apron what the fuck and how he thinks your look so good in white and blue

sungjin’s so done with him

“just ask her out you stalker”

“nO I CAN’T!!! SHE’LL THINK IM CREEPY!!! SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW ME”

“well i bet she remembers your face by now since you always drop by when she’s there”

“but she meets a lot of people everyday there’s NO WAY she can remember me”

you see the problem now?

then one day jae decides to play matchmaker

by “playing matchmaker” i mean he follows wonpil to the cafe and straight up tells you, in front of wonpil’s face and everyone there, “yo this friend of mine wants to take you on a date and he wonders if you’re interested”

you are: blushing

wonpil is: dead pale

you: o-oh… i’m–

wonpil: yO HE’S JUST JOKING HAHAHAHA IM SO SORRY oH My gOd jAE LET’S GO

he drags his tall friend aka jae out of the cafe and since then he never visits again :(

im sad now ugh i told you i suck at sweet stuffs like this

fast forward it’s summer and the university wonpil’s attending is holding a summer festival that’s open for public

well,,,,, you decide to go and you ask some of your friends to tag along

you’re not sure what you’re hoping; maybe you just want to see how the place wonpil’s studying at looks like, or maybe you do wish to meet him by accident or something yanno like a drama

whatever

you promised yourself that if you don’t see him today, you’ll get over him

but if you do see him, you will ask. him. out.

well jokes on you babe he’s there performing on the stage with the band

he’s,,, he’s singing,,, and playing keyboard,,,, omg his voice

as you already know im uncreative soooo by impossible coincidence somehow his eyes spot you in the crowd

btw i imagine them singing Pouring but i think you can pick any songs you like

he’s so taken aback that one second he’s singing and the next second he sees you and his eyes widen and he’s like “I’m falling for–hUH? why are you here??” to the microphone

don’t worry the others cover for his mistake while trying not to laugh

everyone laughs too while looking around to find the person whom wonpil sees

you’re embarrassed as fuck you want to curl up and hide forever

but your so-called-friends don’t let you get away that easy okay it’s your only chance

dw dude wonpil feels the same he wants to immediately get off the stage and die

but sungjin will literally kill wonpil in his sleep if he doesn’t do anything it’s now or never

poor boi has had enough of this pining shit

so after the band performance wonpil has no choice but to approach you

“h-hey! so you watched our stage!”

“y-yeah! it was great!! didn’t know you can sing so well”

“h-haha thanks”

“y-you’re welcome”

silence

more silence

wonpil clears his throat and, “so…”

you blink fast, “yeah…?”

“um uhhh do you wanna see around? i can take you”

“oH of course”

What Am I Even Writing Anymore

well remember your promise earlier? about asking him out?? no???

is it too late to chicken out and forget the whole thing now

you barely know each other it’s so awkward and he looks so fine today and you really don’t wanna push him even further now but if you hesitate longer who knows someone else will ask him first and just the thought alone breaks your heart a little bit

so it’s time to grow a pair and take risks cmon dude you can do this

one

two

“anywaysijustwonderifyou'refreenextsaturday?”

wait

it was!! not!!! your voice!!!!

“huh?”

wonpil clears his throat and repeats slower, “i just wonder if you’re uhhhh free next saturday?”

o shit

o fUck YeAH

you cough a bit before answering, “y-y-yeah i guess??”

“ok um i like, have two tickets for movie if you want to come with me”

that’s like the lamest invitation and you yourself gotta admit that lmao

but oh kim wonpil,, dear,,,, there’s no way i would say no

so you two go on a date

or “casual outing” as you two call it

but everyone knows it’s a date okay even though you two didn’t have any skinskip oops

it’s okay it takes a bit of time but you’ll get there

i mean, since then you two go out together almost every weekend so ye it won’t be that long until the awkwardness wears off

wonpil just cherish you so much he’s afraid he’ll scare you or hurt your feeling by accident so he never boldly initiates anything

the first time you two finally holding hands is when you two go skating, and that’s just because you two are so bad at that

gotta hold each other so you won’t keep falling aye romance

you don’t know this but trust me wonpil talks about it for days sungjin almost decides to move out

he’s still insisting it’s not a date tho

“you know what, i can already imagine you two in like 10 years, standing at the altar and be like, do you marry me as a friend or what? unclear”

“do you think we’ll get married?????”

“oh dear god”

but yeah

you two will get there

somehow

just take your sweet time and give wonpil all the love in the world i beg you

that’s it YAY i think imma work on sungjin’s next wish me luck im running out of lame cliche ideas now lol bye

#day6 #wonpil #day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic #how to tag smh #three down two more to go!!!!!!!#sungjin and dowoon leggo #this is so lame imma cry snandjsnjdnf

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lilhemmo · 7 years ago

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playing catch up

REQUEST: #5 with Luke

#5: “Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything.”

Word Count: 1,693 Rated: G Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Reader

A/N: I’ve finished my Luke fic “Sunshine” and you can read it HERE!

It’s been years since you met Luke Hemmings.

He was a sixteen year old wanna-be-rock-star, and you were studying abroad for your senior year of high school.

Now he’s twenty and way out of your league.

But you’re friends anyways.

“Just keep in touch, yeah?” he stutters, fiddling with his hands in front of his lanky body. You smile up at him, because even now he’s taller than you, “You miss me already, Hemmings?”

He rolls his eyes and instead of continuing conversation he crushes your frame in a hug. You find your arms winding around his torso and your insides feel warm. You force yourself not to cry; you’ve only known him for eight months and it’s not like you’re going to be best friends for the rest of your lives.

“Don’t go getting too famous and forgetting me,” your voice is quiet, hidden in the thickness of his sweatshirt.

Luke pulls you back and looks you in the eyes, “I could never.”

“You’re opening for One Direction!?” you squeak into the phone. “That’s insane, Luke, I’m so happy for you!”

He’s laughing on the other end of the line and the time difference between the two of you has you feeling groggy most of the time you’re talking. Even so, you’d rather be sleepy and talking to him than waiting for a five-minute window to have a short conversation.

“You should come out to a show,” he tells you, “We’re going to be in Los Angeles and I could ask management if they could fly you out here and-”

“Luke, slow down,” you chuckle, “I’ll ask off from work, just give me the dates.”

“Can you believe this?!” you groan, rolling your eyes and falling back on the hotel bed. “I can’t believe this.”

Luke rolls to his side to face you, “I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

You snort, “They think we’re together!”

“So?” he asks, reaching out and pushing back your hair from your face. You pout across at him and he can’t hold in a giggle. His hair falls over his ears now, curling thanks to the Pacific Ocean. “We spend a lot of time together and you have girl parts. Of course they think we’re together.”

“We can’t just be friends?” you ask incredulously, scrolling through the tweets with a photo of you and Luke at a small coffee shop attached. Luke’s hand is on the small of your back and you’re leaning into him.

You have to admit, to the naked eye who knows nothing about the friendship you have with Luke, it probably looks like you’re whispering sweet nothings and he’s holding you steady in the crowded line.

“People like drama,” Luke shrugs, poking your nose. “It’ll go away soon, don’t worry about it.”

Now Luke’s hair falls to his shoulders and he sings heartbreaking songs like Ghost of You and Youngblood. Your heart pounds when he walks in the room and he doesn’t even know. You go to parties after shows together and he walks in with you and walks out with two other girls who you’ve never seen before.

His breathtaking blue eyes find yours in a crowd when he’s on stage, guitar and mic in his hand, emotions straining his voice. He smiles no matter what, and you can’t help but send a small wave his way.

Even so, he’ll never know about the somersaults your stomach does when he glances your way.

You’re the one he calls when he’s drunk and emotional, his heart freshly broken. You’re the one he goes shopping with because you don’t tease him about his sudden fascination in nail polish and sparkly eye shadow. You’re the one he sees when he can’t squeeze anymore words out of his bone-dry heart to put on this new album.

And he’s your everything.

You have their newest album blasting in your house as you start your spring cleaning regiment. You find yourself humming along to Woke Up in Japan when your front door bursts open.

“Oh my go-Luke?”

You’ve turned the broom into a potential weapon, pointing it in the direction of the sudden noise, but the blonde on the receiving end doesn’t even seem to care.

“I need your help.”

You nod, feeling somewhat bitter in the back of your heart. “Okay, what’s up?”

“See, there’s this girl,” he starts, using his hands to gesture wildly. His hair is frizzy, almost like he’s been running his hands through it. He’s not as put together as he usually is, this time only sporting a ripped t-shirt and some jeans with his Vans.

“A girl who probably doesn’t deserve you,” you chime, dusting off the wood furniture. “Just like the last one!”

“Yeah, right, I know,” he waves you off, following you around the house, “because I’m God’s gift to womankind. Anyways!”

You laugh and grab the furniture polish, listening to whatever nonsense is about to come out of his mouth next.

“So, there’s this girl,” he repeats himself, his voice frantic. “And she’s great, honestly, like babe you wouldn’t even believe-”

Your heart twists in your chest as you imagine what skinny model he’s talking about this time. Of course the girls he swears he sees a future with always nail and bail, but he refuses to see a pattern in his so-called love life. Meanwhile, you’re left to pick up the pieces when she’s done using him for his notoriety.

“I get it,” you snap, fisting the microfiber cloth, “she’s great. What do you need help with?”

“Well,” he meanders to stand in front of you, looking at you earnestly, “I really don’t think I have a chance with her because she knows everything about me. And, dude, I’m talking all the gross stuff. Like the foods that make me gassy and what I’m like after I drink that one kind of beer.”

“Okay?” you raise a brow, unsure as to where this conversation is going. “If she knows all this stuff about you, then she’s probably actually worth your time, dumbo. Why are you here instead of with her?”

“That’s the thing,” he starts picking at the pale pink polish on his nails, “I don’t know how to tell her.”

“What do you like about her?” you ask, moving on to the kitchen to put away the dishes. “Why don’t you start there?”

“Because there’s so much!” he exclaims, sitting on the counter beside you. He falls into step with you, picking up the damp dishes from the washer to dry them off and hand them over to you. “She’s gorgeous, for one, and then she’s really smart and also pretty funny. She thinks my jokes are kinda funny, which is always a plus. She’s also into our music and she gets along with the guys. And Petunia loves her.”

“She sounds perfect,” you find yourself saying bitterly, trying your hardest to smile as you turn your back to put away a coffee mug.

“She’s you.”

Before the mug makes its way to the cupboard, you drop it on the tile floor.

As you come to, taking in his confession and processing it, you curse under your breath and bend down to pick up the broken mug.

“I-If this is some sick prank, Luke,” your voice is seething, tears already settling into the bottom of your lids and threatening to spill over. “I want you out of my ho-“

“It’s not a joke,” he tells you, and you feel his hand press against your hip to steady you. Luke helps you pick up the remaining shards, depositing them on the countertop.

“I-I’ve been thinking a lot lately, between shows, and I just,” he swallows and you watch his throat bob and the tears in your eyes get hotter as time passes. You chew on your lower lip and his eyes shift downward, “I realized how in love with you I am.”

You’re speechless in that moment because in your head you’ve heard Luke say this thousands of times, but now he’s here and he’s saying it in real time.

“You’re always there for me, and Petunia loves you which is the real test of any relationship, and the guys love you and we know each other so well and you just,” his cheeks turn dark red and you find your fingers aching to card through his hair. “You’re just you, and I realized way too late that you being you is exactly what I want in my life.”

His hands find your cheeks and he looks over your face, unsure as to what your lack of a reaction means. He tilts his head, his hair falling in his eyes, “U-Uh, well, that’s it, I guess. That’s what I came to say.”

For some reason your voice is stuck in your throat like cement and no matter how many times you try to think of words to say, you can’t.

Luke nods, raising his eyebrows, “This is not what I was expecting. Uh, um, w-well,” he swallows thickly and stands to his full height, towering over you.

“Well,” he raises his arms in a gesture, “Yell, scream, say something. Anything. This silence is killing me.”

You lick your lips and shove your shaking hands under your armpits as you cross your arms in front of your body, “You mean to tell me that I’ve been wasting away falling in love with you for years, watching you go on date after date with girl after girl that I knew was not going to work just for you to show up here, today, and tell me you’ve been in love with me this whole time?”

Luke shrugs, pursing his lips, “Y-Yeah, I guess. Sounds about right.”

With a grin, you surge up and lace your fingers in his hair and press your mouth to his. It’s a millisecond before his hands come to rest on your hips and his lips recognize yours and react. He sighs against your mouth and you can’t believe that this isn’t a dream.

“I guess,” you pull away from him, breathless, “we’ve got some catching up to do.”

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fanfiction #5sos #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos one shot #luke hemmings blurb #my writing

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hamilton-one-shots · 6 years ago

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Hamilton High School AU 27

“I want to make a campaign for an art class at school, for John. I know we're seniors, but I think it'd mean a lot for him... When we were talking, he told me about how he hates that there's no art program and that the only reason he really accepts those commissions at school is to add some color."

Lafayette smiled and pulled out an outfit. "I think that would be a sweet thing to do for him. I don't doubt that he'd love it." He showed him the blue shirt that he wore to the art gallery and a pair of dark jeans. "How's this? This is your only formal shirt. Maybe with some Converse?"

"That's fine." He nodded. "Thanks, Laf." He paused for a second. "Hey.. Do you want to hang out? We could watch a movie or play some GTA or something."

Lafayette smiled widely. Alexander never asked to hang out before. "That sounds great. You can choose whatever we do."

Alexander nodded. "Well.. We can watch Heathers? I've got a lot of bootlegs on my laptop."

"That sounds great! Or, maybe... Have you ever watched Sweeney Todd? I found a professional recording of it."

Lafayette? The guy who spoiled his kitten and wore bows in his hair when he was younger, like Sweeney Todd? Alexander supposed he shouldn't judge a book by it's cover. After all, most people probably wouldn't have guessed that he was a Heathers fan. "I've only seen the movie, but sure."

He scrunched up his nose. "The movie is nowhere near as good as the live performance that I have, in my opinion."

"Okay, I'll take your word on it."

Lafayette smiled and went to his room, crouching down as he opened the door and cooing at Rosie. "Hi, baby! I'm here early!"

Rosie bounded across the room to Lafayette excitedly, like it was the first time she'd seen him in years. She leaped up so quickly, she tripped over the edge of her basket with a little thud on the floor. Not that it stopped her dashing however. Lafayette hadn't had Rosie particularly long, but she already knew who her 'parent' was. She purred against his leg affectionately.

He smiled and pet between her ears, then scooped her up, kissing the top of her head. "I missed you too. Let's go hang out with Alex."

She meowed in response and watched as Lafayette grabbed his laptop, bringing it to Alexander's room.

He sat down beside him and put on the musical, smiling as the music began. "Do you mind if I bring Rosie here?.."

"No, of course not, as long as I can hold her."

"Oh, of course." Lafayette handed her over and she purred just as affectionately as Alexander held her.

Alexander hardly paid attention to the show, too busy playing with the tiny kitten in his lap and listening to Lafayette hum along. He really was talented and there was no surprise that he was going to star in the school musical, though it did surprise him to hear for himself just how high Lafayette's voice went. "So, why is everyone so chill about all of the death?"

Lafayette chuckled. "Well, if you were actually paying attention, you would know that these two, Sweeney Todd and Mrs Lovett, are the only ones that even know about it. Sweeney's obviously the murderer and his victims are used in her pies."

"Well, I'm sorry your fluffy heathen is toying with my heart."

"Meow!"

"Yeah, you." He chuckled, then grinned. "So, what you're saying is... Their pies are to die for?"

He rolled his eyes at the awful pun. "Yes, I guess you could say that." He smiled. "The ones made with priests are heavenly. The lawyers are nice, if they're for a price. And Beadle isn't bad 'til you smell it and notice how well its been greased. My advice is to stick to priest." Of course, Lafayette was quoting the pun filled song, "A Little Priest," but Alexander clearly wouldn't have known that.

And, as expected, Alexander broke into a fit of giggles at the pun. After all of the drama of the past few days, he was able to just laugh and be happy and it only helped that he was eating better and that he actually took his medicine.

Lafayette was more than glad to see him so happy.

But he knew things could've been better. He pulled out his phone and texted John, who should've just been getting off of school. [hEy!] [todays not been 2 sucky] [watchin musikals w/Laf] [wana join? iv got a cuddle heer w/ your naem onit 😘]

John sighed as he read the text, walking with Herc to the shop. [Sorry, I wish I could, but I got detention : (] [Adams made Jefferson 'apologize' and I told him to fuck off.] [I'll try to go afterwards, I promise.] [I love you.]

"Are you sure you're up for this?.. I won't be offended if you're not."

"I'll be fine." He looked at his phone as Alexander responded.

[awwww :( remind me 2 beet his ass wen im bac in] [i love u too <3] Alexander sighed and looked at Lafayette. "He's got detention. Because of stupid Jefferson, too. I hate that guy."

[I won't, but I'll happily beat his ass for you.]

Alexander smiled a bit at the response. "Well... At least we can still watch musicals. Oh! I have an idea." He reached down and grabbed a box from under his bed. At first glance, it looked like a normal box of mementos and pictures... Then he pulled out a bottle of vodka. "Don't tell mom and pop."

Lafayette chuckled and shook his head. "As fun as that sounds, going to school hungover doesn't."

Alexander tutted. He knew Lafayette was right. "Okay. Let's watch Be More Chill."

John sighed as he dropped his bag behind the till in the shop, watching Herc get ready. "Alright, I'm already ready for this to be over," he half-joked.

"Me too. Last chance, John. You don't have to be here."

He shook his head. "I want to."

"Okay.." Herc sighed as he heard the unmistakable bell ring and turned to see Jefferson walk in with his friend, John Jay. He'd only really seen him around Jefferson and knew he was a shy guy.

John slipped into the big, spinning chair behind the till and turned away from everyone, simply listening as Hercules worked with them.

"What are you looking for?" Hercules droned.

"Where's your usual pep, Mulligan?" Thomas teased.

"What can I do for you today, gentlemen?" Hercules added, voice dripping with optimistic sarcasm. John Jay snickered.

"Prom suits." Thomas replied with a little grumble.

"Er, nothing flashy..." John added, causing Thomas to tut.

"ONLY flashy, JJ..." Thomas corrected him.

Hercules rolled his eyes and let the pair watch as he picked out a suit, able to tell their sizes at a glance.

"I like that one," Jay told him.

Hercules nodded and gave him the one he was referring to.

John Jay thanked him and walked towards the back, following his directions to the changing room. "Hi, John." He realized that he shouldn't have said that only after he saw him cringe. "Sorry.."

"It's fine.."

Jay ducked into the changing room as Thomas grinned over at John as he turned around, figuring there was no point in hiding anymore.

"Just the babe I wanted to see. Still have my number?"

John ignored him, putting in his earphones, and Hercules tried to distract him.

"If by flashy, you mean glitz and glam, we've got an array of sequined suits-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, so Johnny, tell me-"

"As well as matching ties, bows and shoes that go well with them-"

"That's nice. Baby, why don't you-"

"And to top it off, we've got a sale on matching cuff links and ties, so you could even match them up for a reduced price-"

"Hey Jerkules, I'm trying to talk to-"

"There's also tailed suits and with matching heels, if you're into that sort of thing as well."

Thomas looked like he was going to smack Hercules, like steam would start pouring out of his ears in frustration. "..I want a model." He gritted.

"Hmm... let's see... there's just me running the shop today... and I'm a completely different size to you... so I guess there's none available." He hummed. The most frustrating thing was Hercules was technically not doing anything. Sure, he was being a bit more brash than usual, but all he was doing was selling. Thomas wouldn't even be able to leave a bad review.

"..what do you think?" Jay asked nervously as he returned from the changing room. Hercules certainly had a talent for picking the right outfit for the right person. The pale blue matched Jay's aesthetic perfectly. Even the size was dead on flawless. Jay looked pretty charming... unlike his friend who looked like he'd erupt at any moment.

"Looks great." Hercules smiled... somewhat cheekily. He was going to milk the moment. "I was /just/ saying to Thomas how we have a sale on matching cuff links and ties if you wanted to look at those."

Jay opened his mouth to answer but shut it when he caught sight of Thomas' glaring. "...s'fine." He concluded instead.

Thomas pushed passed Hercules as to stand over John, yanking out his headphone. "If you want to strike a deal, then you have to talk to me." He snapped. "Or should I discuss it with Alex instead?"

"...who's Alex?" Jay queried, raising a brow.

"The guy I added on your Facebook earlier."

John flinched and sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and snatching his headphones back from Thomas. "First of all, ouch. I don't appreciate you yanking my earphones out. Second," he looked over at Jay and smiled. "You look good, Jay. That's definitely your color." He gave him a thumbs up, then turned back to Thomas. "Third of all, if you even want to /think/ about ever having me back, you will not lay a hand on Alex. Or Laf. Or Herc. Overall, don't get your hopes up. You're still the last person I'd ever sleep with." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned farther back in his chair. "Didn't you want a model or something?"

Thomas nodded. "Well, can't go to prom without a prom date."

"No. You already tortured Laf enough."

Thomas rolled his eyes at Hercules's protests. "Oh, come on. You know this place can't survive without me."

Hercules hated to admit it, but he knew he was right. As popular as his parents were in Ireland, almost none of that was in New York. Just a few bad reviews and the shop would have to shut down, sending them back to Ireland.

Jay shifted his weight from foot to foot awkwardly, just trying to avoid the conflict that was brewing. Sure, he knew what Thomas was capable of, but that didn't mean he was like him. "Maybe some of those suits over there?.." He pointed at a rack.

John sighed. "I offered. I'll do it. Thanks, Jay." He gave him a small smile, then returned to glaring at Thomas. "I don't know why he hangs out with you. He's way too nice for you."

Thomas rolled his eyes. Jay was a nice guy, he knew that, and he wasn't going to drag him into this.

Hercules led him away and John stood up.

"Alright. What am I trying on first?"

"Let's see.." He went to the racks and picked out a light pink tux, one that looked just a size smaller than John. "Try this."

"Whatever." He took the suit and went to the changing room, glad that it fit him right. He went back out and stood on the pedestal.

Thomas lit up at the sight, especially knowing that John was in no position to do anything about it. He stepped towards him and straightened out the suit a bit, then cupped John's cheek. "You know, last time I got this close to you, you punched me." He almost looked sincere.

But John knew better. "You earned it."

"Yeah, yeah. Go change." He gave John another outfit, this time a dress.

He tutted and took it, going to the dressing room and getting changed. He came back out after a few minutes in the deep pink, knee length dress and distracted himself by wondering how many sequins were even on the dress as Thomas approached him again.

"Don't you look adorable?" he hummed. "You should wear some more dresses. Speaking of which," he gave John another hanger. "Try this on for size."

John rolled his eyes and changed into the dress, which was noticeably tighter. He was doing this for Alexander, he reminded himself, the same Alexander who was texting him.

[hey! me n laf r watin]

[Sorry, but I have something to take care of with Madison. I'm already out. : (] [I'll text you when I can see you, I'm sorry.]

[Aw, tat suks : (]

He went back out, clutching the light blue and jeweled fabric, and stood on the pedestal, blushing and hoping that his boxers were high enough to not be noticed.

"Phone away. Alexander isn't here. It's just you and me."

John tutted and put his phone down.

"Good boy."

Across the shop, John Jay and Herc were just finishing up.

"Thanks for everything, Herc."

"Just doing my job." He smiled, then glanced up and frowned at John and Thomas. "Aw, Jack.." he muttered.

Jay glanced over as well and frowned. "Hey, Thomas, my mom's expecting me home soon. You're my ride home, maybe we should go.."

Thomas shook his head. "Just one more, JJ."

"Come on, Thomas. You're not even looking at any suits."

"Alright, fine." He sighed and went to Herc, paying for his time, before going back and getting his coat, smacking John's behind as he passed by.

John jumped and ducked into the changing room, quickly getting back into his own clothes, and sitting against the wall.

"Get out of here, pervert," Hercules grumbled at Thomas.

"Same time next week?" he smirked.

"Let's just go, Thomas.." Jay muttered, walking out with him.

#hamilton #hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #lafayette #john laurens #hercules mulligan #thomas jefferson #john jay #lams #mullette #27 #chapter 27

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reddieforakiss · 7 years ago

Note

can u pretty please do either a sleepover realization of feels for reddie or just them being adorable and in love at school?? i would love that sm:))

Love the sleep over idea!! also holdin’ onto the school idea for later

We Belong (belong together)

//A Reddie Sleepover Fic (rated T)

- the boys are 17// content warning for light underage drinking and passionate smoochin

- 3,669 WORDS

( this song will come in handy to get the full feel later on in the fic, so i suggest you listen to it either before, during, or after)

———————————————————————

It was a Saturday night and Richie Tozier was straightening his room, Eddie was coming over soon and he wanted the room to look nice (well as nice as a mess like that it could be). Richie and Eddie had sleep overs almost every weekend since they were in sixth grade when Eddies mom decided he was finally old enough to have them. They always planned their sleepovers for Saturdays so they could spend the day together as well as the night, opposed to purely nights after a long day of school on Friday. It always went as following: Eddie came over at 3pm, they talked until in got dark out (god they could talk for hours), walked down to the convenience store around 9pm and headed back to the house to eat their snacks and drink their booze. Paul, a scrawny red head riddled with acne, worked at the store and would let Richie buy beers with his not so convincing fake ID. In exchange Richie would try and “set Paul up” with girls he knew, none of which ever working out to Paul’s disappointment. Some nights he and Eds would do an activity like see a movie, or go to a shitty concert, but it was a rare occasion because both of them would have to save up their allowances for weeks to afford it.

The time was now 2:54pm and Richie heard a knock at the door, he jolted his head up from the electric cords he was fiddling with, a new record player. Richie shoved the rest of the filth under his bed and jogged out of his room to open the door. Right when Eddie was about to knock again, Richie swung the door open and posed in the frame of it, “couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”. Eddie laughed and rolled his eyes, his pale blue duffle bag slung over his shoulder, “Oh i absolutely could not, I missed by husband”, he smiled up at Richie and stepped inside, Richie blushes stupidly. Richie and Eddie had always flirted as a joke but recently it was starting to make Richie feel,, well he didn’t know how it made him feel but it was just different. Richie shut the front door and Eddie lead the way back to Richie’s room, throwing his bag on Richie’s bed and flopping down on it. “Parents not home?”, Eddie said, staring up at Richie’s navy blue ceiling. “You know it babe”, Richie laughed and sat on his bed next to Eddie. “So whats the plan tonight?”, Eddie sat up and looked at Richie smiling. “Ah just the usual, but i was thinking we could be a little wild and order Chinese rather than gorging gas station treats”, Richie wiggled his eyebrows and Eddie giggled. “OhhhH fancy!”, he grabbed his bag and placed it on his lap. “Well”, Eddie rummaged through the duffle and pulled out 3 VHS tapes, “I got some new movies from the video rental and i figured we could watch one”. Eddie held up all three chunky cases, Say Anything, Sixteen Candles, and The Princess Bride,, all romances Richie noticed. “Ew why all the romance Eds, you trynna say something?”, Richie had really hoped he was, Eddie looked flushed but Richie figured it was the lighting. “No, they just happen to be good movies, asshole”, he set them down on the bed between them and pointed to Say Anything, “I really wanna watch that one, Bev says its good. But”, he pointed to The Princess Bride, “I know you like adventure so i grabbed that one too”. “How thoughtful my spaghetti man, but i’m feeling nice so we can watch your lame one”, Richie smiled down at Eddie, he still towered over the boy in their teenage years. “Okay first off its not lame, its romantic. And secondly, im sure you could use some pointers so take notes you fuckin’ anti-romeo.”. Richie laughed and picked up the VHS case and walked over to the small dingy TV that was across from his bed. Eddie got up and held onto Richie’s shirt sleeve, grab me more, “Not yet! I wanna watch it tonight with dinner!”. “Okay fine”, Richie walked back over to the bed and patted beside him, “Lets just chill then”. Eddie walked back over and they laid down next to each other and talked about the week.

As hours passed, their positions changed. At first they laid side by side, Richie’s hand twitching and aching to reach over and grab Eddies, he didn’t know why. Soon Eddie scootched over and rested his head on Richie’s shoulder, Richie’s curly hair like a pillow for him, smells good. When Eddie was close to Richie he always felt safe, like a wave of warmth and calm would wash over him, it made him want to be even closer. When Eddie got the courage to rest his head on Richie’s chest, both their bodies tensed up. Why did they feel like that, why did they feel so starved of touch all of a sudden, why did they crave more. Eddie nuzzled in which warranted a shuttered exhale from the taller boy. Soon Richie’s hands were playing with Eddies hair and tangling his long spidery fingers through it. so soft. Without realizing it, they had both gone silent as conversation faded and focus was directed to touch. This is what close friends do. Close friends make each other feel safe, make each others chests feel warm and arms tense,, right? They had gone about thirty minutes without talking and Richie looked out the window near his bed, it was dark. For Richie, the comfortable silence became an anxious one and he croaked quietly, “H-hey wanna go to the Convenient Mart?”. Eddie looked up at him lazily from his chest with his long eye lashes, his lips looked so soft. what the fuck. Eddie smiled and pushed himself off Richie, stretching, “Mhm! Lets head!”. Eddie bounced off the bed and was already scrambling to get his shoes. Richie was slower but he got up eventually and before they knew it they were out the door. “Remember”, Richie cautioned, “4 bottle limit, and, tonight we are ordering Chinese so no snacks”. “You got it chief!”, Eddie ran ahead giddily and looked back to smile at Richie. “Come on ‘Chee! Wanna make it home soon so we can watch the movie”. Richie grinned and ran to catch up to Eddie.

At the Mart they both waved hello to Paul and went straight to the back to look at the liquor. Rule was they got two each, which meant they had to choose wisely. Richie always liked the sweet stuff because he would always be a child at heart, while Eddie preferred light Mexican beers. Richie studied the back of each bottle, trying to find one with the highest alcohol content. He knew drinking shouldn’t be just for the buzz of being drunk, but the buzz sure was fun and it helped as an excuse for any weird shit he did. maybe if he got drunk he could try and figure his feelings out about Eddie. The logic was poor but Richie was desperate for answers. He ended up with some hard lemonade and some, probably shitty, raspberry flavored beer. Eddie got two Carona Lights, and they met at the counter to check out. Richie checked out and chatted it up with Paul about his latest encounters while Eddie walked out to use the payphone and call to order the Chinese. Earlier Richie had given Eddie the Brochure for the place so Eddie had folded it and put it in his fanny pack, Eddie stepped into the booth and rang the number. He ordered some noodle dish for himself and orange chicken for Richie, it was his known favorite. Eddie also ordered some potstickers, a large bottle of coke and extra fortune cookies. Eddie was giving the woman on the phone Richie’s home address as Richie stepped out of the store, Eddie held up his finger to silently say “one minute”. When Eddie hung up and walked out of the booth Richie snaked his arm around Eddies to link their elbows and the two began to walk. “How much was the Chinese?’, Richie asked as they came around a corner. “Just 17 dollars, nothin to sweat over”, Eddie shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t being held up by Richie’s grip due to their height difference. “I think i got some cash under my bed we can pay for it with”. “No don’t be silly Rich you know the deal, i pay for entertainment and food, you pay for booze and host”. “I know i know”, Richie sighed lightly when they arrived at his house and he unlocked the front door, “Just wanna be a gentleman for my Eds, thats all”. Richie held the door open for Eddie and let him go in first, making a show of it all, Eddie rolled his eyes and laughed. They brought the bag of booze to Richie’s room and put it on the floor, Richie grabbed the VHS of Say Anything, and cued it up to watch by the time the food arrived. Some dick who had rented it previously had not rewinded the tape which meant Richie had to unwind it, closing his eyes as not to get any spoilers. When the food arrived, Richie was still unwinding the tape so Eddie got the door and tipped the driver. Eddie brought in the takeout bag and plopped down on the floor next to Richie, close enough that it made Richie’s skin prickle. It had gone to the beginning and Richie paused it looking over at the food and grabbing towards it, Eddie slapped his hands away, “Nu-uh Richie let me set this up so you don’t make a big mess like you always do”. Richie made an exaggerated frown, “okay wifey”, he reached over to grab the booze bag and unpack it. Richie fished his pocket opener out of the pocket of his jeans and popped open his hard lemonade and one of Eddies Caronas. Eddie meanwhile was unpacking the food and laying it out as nice as he could in front of them, he had the shimmy the food boxes to nestle them into the carpet. If they spilt it would be a sticky and colorful mess, and Eddie knew he’d have to clean it up if he didn’t want it to be there forever. Richie looked over, “Ohh! Orange chicken! my favorite!!”, Richie leaned over and kissed Eddies shoulder. wait. why did. why did he just do that. They both tensed up but kept talking as to not make it a weird moment, thats just what friends do, they both thought. They scootched back against the side of Richie’s mattress and pressed play, Eddie giddy to see the movie that Bev had continuously raved about. A few minutes in and Richie had already finished his food and more than half the potstickers, Eddie on the other hand was slowly slurping his noodles in between sips of beer. Richie nursed his hard lemonade and rested his head on Eddies shoulder, already feeling his filter fade and a buzz come on. Despite his height, that boy was a lightweight, in fact they both were, Eds being tiny in every way and Richie just being a total bean pole. By the time things were becoming even slightly romantic Eddie was feeling nervous, staring all too often between the screen and Richie’s big mop of hair that lay on his shoulder. Why did he care? He had schoolboy crushes on Richie his whole life yea but, but they were never more than that. He had gotten over him and Richie never had to know, the boy being obviously straight after all. obviously. No one knew Eddie was gay anyways, and he was planning on waiting until college. Richie was just a friend, just a friend who made him feel things, a friend who-. Richie sighed and nuzzled deeper into Eddies shoulder. Shit. Feelings had faded or so he thought and now, god now he felt giddy all over again for his best friend, his straight best friend. Richie was oblivious to Eddies feelings, too focused on his own fidgity body. Eddie was so warm, so nice. Richie didnt know what it meant, he never felt like that before for anyone other than Eddie. Was this how best friendship feels? are you supposed to want to kiss your best friend? i mean moms kiss their little kids and we are like family so,,. Richie tried to justify it any way he could, the real answer right in front of him yet so easily unseen.

When the infamous boom box scene played, they had both finished off all their drinks and food besides the fortune cookies. Richie sighed as Lloyd held up the boombox, “He shouldnta gone back for her, she’s a biTch.”. “Richie!”, Eddie teasingly yelled and swatted at the boys head which had somehow found itself resting on Eddies lap. Richie turned from the screen looked up at Eddie with furrowed brows, “But Eds he did his very best and she just gave em a pen”. Eddie smiled down sweetly at Richie, drunk on beer and his good looks, “Sometimes people don’t always do the right thing at first Rich, sometimes people get scared”, he pushed Richie’s hair back off of his face. “if i was in love id never be scared, id stay for ever ever”, Richie frowned. “Not all of us can be brave like you Rich”, Eddies heart ached a little when he smiled down at the boy. “Yeh, imma real Romeo. But to be fair i never been in love so i dunno how hard it is”, He fingered at the folds of eddies pajama pants and turned his face inward to face eddies stomach. god slightly drunk Richie is like a baby. “Mm yea its harder when you’re in love”, the melancholy in Eddies voice luckily unheard by Richie. “Eds whats it feel like?”, Richie looked back up at Eddie like a little kid asking to hear a bedtime story. “Well, it”, he started cautiously, “its hard to explain. Love is hard to explain because well we all feel it differently. I think i’ve been in love but im not sure, its hard to know sometimes”, he brushed his hand through Richie’s hair. Richie furrowed his brows again, “Well how does you’re ‘maybe love’ feel?”. Eddie paused for a moment. “It feels good, but aches at the same time. Its this feeling deep inside of you that makes you never want to let go of that person.” thats how Richie felt, fuck. “ Its this little part of your brain that just, just tells you to do things and you don’t know why. Love is feeling safe in someones arms.” i think i love you Eddie “Love is wanting the best in the world for someone. Love is wanting to give every piece of yourself away if it means that it would make that person smile. Love i-”. Richie leaned up and kissed Eddie. Eddie went stiff and his mouth hung open. why did Richie do that. Richie looked scared, Eddie would hate him. “R-Richie, why did you do that”, Eddie wanted to cry as he looked away from Richie. he was so fucking scared, scared it was all a joke, it was always a joke with Richie. Richie sat up quickly and turned away from Eddie, arms wrapping around his own huddled up knees. “Im sorry Eddie”, the shame rang high in his voice, his mind suddenly all too sober. “Its just, you were describing it and i, i, i”, he was choking back tears, “Ive been so confused lately and i, i didn’t know what these feelings meant and, i think,”. His tone dropped dead serious with fear, ‘Eddie i think i love you”. Eddies tears began to fall now, dripping down his face. “Richie you idiot”, a smile present in his voice, “i love you too. Richie i was describing you”. “Really?”, disbelief yet a song of hope sang in Richies voice. Richie turned around to be surprised with an embrace. They were both crying like dorks. Eddie began to kiss Richie’s tears away, trailing up and down and Richie did the same, both touching each other like they’d always wanted to but were too afraid to admit to until now. Eddie held onto Richie like he was a lifesaver, held onto him like his life depended on it. He never wanted to let go, Richie didn’t either. They calmed and held each other closely like that for a while.

Richie spoke up, “Hey Eddie”. Eddie looked up with a red, tear stained face. cute. “yeah Rich?”, he smiled weak and warm. “Can i show ya something?”. Eddie nodded and let go of Richie so he could get up. Eddie sat on the ground and saw Richie walk over to the record player and dig around in his giant pile of records looking for the right one. After a while of searching to no avail Eddie giggled, “Need any help there?”, “No no i got it hold your horses,, Ah! Here!”. Richie set the record down, flipped the switch and put the needle at the start of the song he wanted.

♫♬Many times I tried to tell youMany times I cried aloneAlways I’m surprised how well you cut my feelings to the bone♫♬

Eddie got up and walked over to Richie who had turned to him with a smile. He held onto Richie and Richie offered out a hand for Eddie to take, so he took it.

♫♬Don’t want to leave you reallyI’ve invested too much time to give you up that easy♫♬

Eddie nestled his head into Richie’s shoulder and they rocked back and fourth to the beat.

♫♬To the doubts that complicate your mind♫♬

The music picked up and Richie began to spin Eddie around the room, swaying lazily in what could barely be called and dance. His hand was around Eddies waist and Eddies on his shoulder while their other hands remained clasped together.

♫♬We belong to the light, we belong to the thunderWe belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen underWhatever we deny or embrace for worse or for betterWe belong, we belong, we belong together♫♬

They both started to tear up again and held onto one another, their grips tightening in fear of loosing any contact at all. It was all Eddie had ever dreamed of, it was all Richie never knew he needed.

♫♬Maybe it’s a sign of weakness when I don’t know what to sayMaybe I just wouldn’t know what to do with my strength anywayHave we become a habit? Do we distort the facts?♫♬

Richie danced Eddie down onto his bed and laid him down, looking over a tear stained, smiling and breathless Eddie.

♫♬Now there’s no looking forwardNow there’s no turning back♫♬

Richie bent down in a buzzed confidence and kissed Eddie, this time with no questioning in his touch. This time he was so fucking sure of what he wanted and Eddie was too.

♫♬When you say We belong to the light, we belong to the thunderWe belong to the sound of the words we’ve both fallen underWhatever we deny or embrace for worse or for betterWe belong, we belong, we belong together♫♬

They kissed more and the music faded out from their ears, minds too focused on one another. The softer kisses turned into a starving passion of touchings and hums. Eddies arms snaked their way around Richie’s neck and pulled him down closer so Richie was on top of him, the contact they had both always needed. Hands were lazily drifting all over, touching and exploring, needing to feel everything and anything the other had to offer. Eddie scooted back so he could be all the way on the bed and Richie got up to walk around his bed and put his glasses on the night stand. He eagerly jumped back into bed which made Eddie giggle and go to kiss him again. Their cheeks were burning and so were their touches, fingers like searing fires on one another’s skin, a welcomed warmth. Eddie licked into Richie’s mouth and Richie obliged granting access, Richie moaned load from this which made Eddie hold onto him tighter. Eddie moved his fingers through Richie’s curly black hair and grabbed it a little too hard, earning an even louder moan from the boy which made Eddie smile into his mouth. Richie grasped at the bottom of Eddies shirt and tried to pull it up, Eddie disconnected and pulled it off. Before he reconnected with Richie he just stared at the boy, flush cheeks and swollen lips, fuck he was beautiful. Eddie moved close again and tried to pull off Richie’s shirt, being surprisingly successful without any of Richie’s help. Their bare chests touched, warm contact that sent an electric shock through their systems. So much more to feel, so soft, so rough, hot touches all over. Richie bent down to kiss and nip at Eddies neck and Eddie purred at the wetness of his mouth. “R-rich”, Eddie struggled out before Richie could move back to his lips, “Hm?” Richie looked up at him. “I think its time for bed”, he kissed Richie’s forehead. “oh, OH, sorry yea too fast”, Richie pulled away. Eddie closed the gap again, “aha no not too fast, just not sober ya know? wanna take in every new moment”. “mmm” Richie kissed Eddies lips lightly, “Makes sense”. Richie grabbed some pillows and dragged them underneath their heads. Eddie nuzzled his face in the crook of Richie’s neck and held onto him like a koala bear, legs wrapped around him and everything. Richie kissed Eddies hair, “I love you”, Eddie smiled up, “I love you too”.

#Reddie #Eddie Kapsbrak #richie tozier #beep beep richie #reddie fanfiction #reddie fanfic #it 2017 #it fandom #beverly marsh #it fanfiction #reddieforakiss

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prettylilparker · 7 years ago

Text

pancakes

my masterlist :)

summary: peter parker had been gone for a while on a mission with tony, both of you dearly missing one another, and for his welcome home, you decided to surprise him.

warnings: fluff and more fluff (also a bop of a song u should check out)

word count: 1.1k

author's note: sorry i haven’t posted in so long!! i promise i didn’t forget abt u babes <3 i just couldn’t decide how i wanted to write this and i’m so much of a perfectionist but whatever i just ripped the bandaid off and wrote without over thinking it so sorry if this is lowkey trash :))

Peter’s eyes lingered on the white clouds swirling into the pale blue of the sky as his knee bounced up and down repeatedly. He was peering out of the oval window beside his seat on the plane, unable to fall asleep because of the excitement bubbling in his chest from the thought of getting to see you in less than an hour. He could almost picture now how it would feel to wrap his arms around your waist and nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar, sweet scent.

He had never imagined that he would long for you so much from being apart for just a week, only seven days, but he did. There was just something missing when you weren’t a phone call or text away. Tony had told him to not engage in contact with anyone during the mission (not even his aunt) and every time he saw a goofy Snapchat from you, he was jealous of all the people in your classes, your friends, and May. They were able to talk to you, while he was only able to smile at the countless texts you sent to him instead of instantly respond like how he usually did.

“What’s up, kid?” Tony asked, sitting in the seat beside Peter, crossing his legs and folding his hands over them, before telling the flight attendant his drink order.

Peter turned his head to him, being brought out of his little daze, and raising a brow. “Hm?”

“Oh, I see. It’s a girl.” Tony took a sip out of the dark golden drink now in his hand, some form of liquor Peter wasn’t familiar with, and smiled to himself gently at the boy’s wild eyes.

Peter bit his bottom lip, looking down at his feet, then looking back up slowly. “How’d you know?” he asked, wondering how the billionaire could read him so easily. Do I actually look that lovesick? he wondered.

“The whole mission, you’ve been looking like a sad puppy. Plus, you kept saying ‘y/n’ in your sleep last night.” Tony’s wrist rotated in small circles, the drink almost splashing around the edges as he contemplated. Peter’s eyes widened at his words, wringing his hands and smiling sheepishly. “First love?”

“Yeah, she’s,” Peter started, but preferring to spare the details for he knew he’d be there for hours if he actually told Tony everything on his mind when you came to thought. “Great,” he sighed.

You slept the night over at May and Peter’s home, not wanting to miss Peter’s arrival early in the morning. May had left about an hour ago for work, so it was just you in their little apartment waiting for your boyfriend to return home from his mission. You were sitting on the top bunk of his bed, fidgeting with your fingers, before climbing down the ladder and deciding to do something special for the brunet boy you adored.

Pancakes.

If you knew anything about Peter, you knew that he loved pancakes. The boy had told you before how much he loved the breakfast food, ‘especially made by you with your love’ (his words).

You slid into the kitchen with your newfound enthusiasm, your fuzzy socks gliding across the hardwood floor easily. You opened the cabinets and stood on your tippy toes to search inside each one to find the right ingredients. Then, you took out a bowl and started measuring out the pancake recipe, but you stiffened half way through pouring the flour.

How could I have forgotten music? you shouted at yourself in your head. Without a beat, you found a speaker and connected your phone, playing the Spotify playlist Peter had surprised you with on your anniversary.

One of your favorite songs started playing and you couldn’t help but smile, recalling the time your dorky boyfriend sang them to you off pitch that night the two of you (major lightweights) took a few sips of one of May’s bottle of wines. Beautiful by Bazzi.

Peter was absolutely ecstatic, rolling his suitcase in front of his apartment and fidgeting with his keys. He dropped them, bending over too quickly and hitting his head against the door, but nothing could waver the smile plastered on his lips as he stood back up.

He swung the door open once it was unlocked, the scent of pancake batter wafting throughout the apartment and the sound of music blasting through speakers. His smile grew, if that was even possible, already knowing what you were up to.

He put his luggage down, slowly walking into the kitchen. He noticed your familiar figure and immediately felt so damn lucky. You, the girl swinging her Spider-man pajama clad hips to the song blasting at top volume, was the love of his life. You were holding the whisk to your lips, singing into it, something you were way too shy to do in front of others.

“Hey, beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful angel. Love your imperfections every angle.”

You picked up the bowl, spinning around with it in your left hand as you whisked the batter with your other, when you heard a small laugh and looked up. Peter stood there watching you with a goofy grin across his face making his smile lines prominent, his curly hair sticking up in different places due to how long he had travelled. You hadn’t seen the boy in so long, and he was more adorable than you remembered.

“Tomorrow comes and goes before you know, so I just had to let you know,” Peter sang the lyrics and you couldn’t contain your smile, placing the bowl down and running into his arms. He didn’t even care that the batter on your apron was rubbing off onto his hoodie, wrapping his arms around your waist without a second thought.

You pulled back and laughed. “How long were you standing there for?”

“Only enough to watch your cute little dance moves,” he chuckled, brushing off the flour on your cupid’s bow with the pad of his thumb.

“You weren’t supposed to get here for like an hour,” you groaned, gesturing to the ingredients behind you. “I was making you pancakes like a good girlfriend, and you ruined the whole surprise.”

Peter leaned forward, his lips almost touching yours. “I still love it, and you, of course.” You grasped his cheek, when Peter suddenly grabbed your waist, tugging the waistband of your pants. “And I especially love these.”

You playfully widened your eyes, pushing his chest backwards. “No pancakes for you.”

“Whaaaaaaa-”

“You did this to yourself Peter.”

“But I love you-”

“That isn’t gonna get you these pancakes, Peter Benjamin Parker. These are all mine now.”

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lpsrick237 · 6 years ago

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Simon x Markus Fluff Alphabet Head Canon

***In this, I imagine this is after the best ending.

***In this, they made an update so androids can eat, drink, and get drunk.

***I’ve always had a theory that androids could temporarily shut down as a way of “sleeping” so their battery recharges and that’s what happens during cutscenes throughout the game lol

I USED THE TEMPLATE MADE BY @the-darklings BECAUSE I LOVE IT!

A = What do they find attractive about each other? Simon thinks Markus’s eyes, body, and kindness is attractive. Markus thinks Simon’s eyes, hands, and charm is attractive.

B = Do they want a family and why/why not? They don’t have time to think about having a child or children since Markus is the spokesperson for androids and they are in the public eye, but they think kids are cute and would want to try to have a child. They don’t think they could handle multiple kids, especially since they get caught in public a lot.

C = How do they cuddle? They cuddle when they sleep. Markus is always protectively holding Simon against his chest and keeps his hands over Simon’s heart (careful not to hurt him). Simon loves it and likes to play with Markus’s fingers when he doesn’t want to temporarily shut down for the night.

D = What are their dates like? They like to stay home since they’re always out doing things and taking care of others. Simon likes to cook for Markus since he stays home more, but they like to cook together or order out and watch movies they’ve been excited for. On rare occasion, they go out on nature walks or disguise themselves to troll people. They’re dates are sweet and always feel light.

E = “You are my everything. My ___”: They are a couple who are more show than tell when it comes to love (at least in public), but at home Simon always gives Markus pet names and gushes over him. Markus finds it insanely adorable even if he sounds repetitive.

F = When did they know they were in love? Simon knew he was in love at the victory party for winning their freedom. He knew as soon as Markus hugs him and he listens to Markus gush over how joyful he is. Markus, however, was slow to realize he was in love. He realized a few months after the revolution when Simon and him moved in together. He knew he loved Simon when he would be thrilled to lay in bed for hours drawing shapes on Simon’s arms and help him when he feels insecure about his past.

G = Are they gentle? Simon is very gentle. It’s part of his nature to hug people softly and talk in a voice that wouldn’t scare anyone. Markus can be gentle, and likes to be around Simon, but sometimes he feels dominant and/or excited so he ends up hugging a little too hard or yelling out of joy accidentally.

H = How do they like to hold hands? They gently interlock their fingers. Simon always holds onto Markus’s hand especially when he feels scared, and Markus sometimes protectively holds onto Simon’s hand when he gets jealous.

I = What was their first impression? Markus’s first impression of Simon was that of a leader. Markus thought Simon was very tough and quiet until he really started talking to him. Simon’s first impression of Markus was that Markus wanted more freedom and he would be helpful around Jericho, but didn’t really think of him as anyone incredibly special.

J = Do they get jealous? Simon gets jealous but doesn’t stand up for himself. If it’s really bad, he’ll talk to Markus about it. However, Markus gets jealous kind of easily. He is discrete about it and holds Simon’s hand a little tighter and speaks with a slight shift in confidence, but doesn’t make a scene.

K = How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss? Markus initiated the first kiss since Simon was too nervous to. Their kisses are either incredibly soft and feather-light or are really passionate.

L = Who said “I love you” first? Simon said “I love you” first. The only reason they remember is because Simon hadn’t felt that way about someone before and was so confused and frustrated. It was during a rough patch and it strengthened their relationship.

M = What is their favorite memory? Their favorite memory is the day Simon visited Carl for the first time. Markus taught Simon how to play piano and Simon asked for life advice from Carl who was really caring and funny. Carl ended up painting the two as a present on their 6 month anniversary and Simon was so happy to learn more about Markus’s past.

N = Do they spoil each other often? Simon loves spoiling Markus by making food art that Markus loves looking at. Markus loves going all out when they do have date nights. Overall, it isn’t often that they spoil each other but when they do it’s extravagant.

O = What color reminds them of their other have? Simon says pale green because of Markus’s one green eye (and their first date) and Markus says icy blue because of Simon’s eyes (plus it’s Simon’s favorite color).

P = What pet names do they use? Simon uses names like babe and bear; meanwhile, Markus uses names like sweetheart and love. Simon loves making up random pet names every time something goofy and/or memorable happens too.

Q = What is their favorite non-modern thing? Vinyls. They love to listen to vinyls together whether it be in the bedroom or while they’re working. They love talking about vinyls together and the history behind vinyls.

R = What do they like to do on rainy days? On rainy days, they like to listen to vinyls and endlessly talk. Sometimes it’s while they clean the house, sometimes it’s while they’re laying in bed wrapping their arms around the other.

S = How do they cheer each other up? Markus knows immediately when Simon is upset so he cancels any plans for the day and takes care of Simon. Not necessarily like you would a child, but he lays with Simon and tries to tell stupid jokes and talk about Europe to make him feel better. Simon cheers up Markus by letting Markus vent about what he gets upset about and tries to big spoon (even when he fails leaving them in a fit of giggles).

T = What do they like talking about? Simon likes talking about passions, animals, and places around the world. Markus does too, but he likes more personal conversations. Small talk bores Markus so they try not to say simple conversation starters or avoid saying something unless they want a conversation.

U = What helps them relax? They both relax by laying around and thinking alone. They realize that sometimes they need some space or something tense happened and the other needs to cool off. Either way, in the end, they always feel relaxed listening to a vinyl and laying in bed together. Especially when it rains.

V = Do they like showing off? Although Simon doesn’t like showing off, Markus loves to show off Simon (of course without overwhelming him). He loves to hold his hand and talk about Simon’s achievements, even if all he did was call Connor to talk. When Markus is at a party, everyone expects him to gloat about being with Simon and how much he loves him. Of course, he tries to be respectful, but ends up gushing over Simon.

W = When/how/where do they propose? Markus plans to propose when they go on their next vacation so they’re both in the best mood possible. He doesn’t want to do it in a traditional way either. He wants to be in the hotel room getting ready when he says “I think I forgot something” leading to him sliding the ring on Simon’s finger and popping the question. It’s weird, but he wants it to be memorable. Oh and Connor would come in with a party popper if Simon says yes (which he most likely would).

X = What’s their song? Best Day of My Life by American Authors

Y = Do they ever think about marriage/proposing? Simon thinks about marriage but doesn’t like talking about it. He wants to be 100% sure that they want marriage. Markus feels the same but would love to see Simon’s reaction to a quirky proposal.

Z = If they want a pet, what would they get? They would get a small puppy like a Yorkie or a soft hamster. Anything small and fluffy.

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh headcanons #lpsrick237

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edsbrak · 7 years ago

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some Stozier hcs

bout to do some writing but wanted to warm up so here, my first round of Stozier hcs feat. dumb boys being dumb >:D (feel free to always send me stuff omg pls, im lonely) and I have to thank @stonedzier for legit getting me into this pairing I am in love

★ so, okay, it’s senior year for the losers club right

★ and it’s nearing prom time, and almost everyone is the group seems to be going with someone (bill and eddie; bev and ben; mike and a lovely boy named steven)

★ and basically everyone in the group KNOWS rich and stan wanna go with each other, it’s so fuckin obvious like?? smh

★ but these boys are stubborn, alright? richie hates talking about feelings, even more so with romantic ones (he’s scared of rejection okay?)

★ and it’s unexpected, but stan also closes up when it comes to admitting who he likes (he had a rough time coming out to his family as it was) and also is 98% sure richie could never like him back and that boy is such a damn flirt??

★ so cue stan fuming off to the side whenever they’re all together and richie starts going off about some hot babe he wants to plow (spoiler: there is no hot babe, not unless u count stan)

★ the rest of the losers are sick of being stuck between this weird sexually fuelled tension and just wish they’d both get their heads outta their asses but also dont want to pressure them into admitting it (its a tough life for them)

★ “so what, you wanna lose your virginity at prom? how cliche” snaps stan when richie wont shut up about the hotness of his supposed ‘date’

★ “please staniel, i lost that ages ago” says richie (no he didnt)

★ “whatever, trashmouth. id be forever surprised if she even agrees to it, considering your dick has been ‘all around the school’”

★ “fuck dude youre just jealous” richie grunts and looks away

★ and stan just?? breaks?? cause “yeah, you moron, youre right. I am jealous, congratulations. so fuck you and your date, i hope you two have a magical night” and he just storms away, hot tears prickling his eyes and mouth turning down with each step

★ and richies just watching him go, eyes impossibly wide behind his glasses, and the rest of the losers are just like “well shit”

★ richie cant bring himself to move, watching hopelessly as stan finally disappears, and theres an eerily silence that follows

★ eventually he turns to see all of his friends looking at him expectantly like “well, what are you gonna do?” and richie has no goddamn idea, still too shocked to believe that actually happened

★ days later, its finally prom

★ stan decided hes not going, and he hasnt spoken to richie since his confession at the barrens

★ it hurts too much to think about, but he cant help it when images of richie dancing with some bimbo babe flash in his mind, and stan turns over in bed and groans irritably at himself, trying desperately to ignore the weight of dread lodged in his stomach

★ and then theres a pebble thrown at his window

★ he almost ignores it, figuring its one of the losers trying to get him to come outside. but the pebbles dont stop and stan doesnt want the window to be damaged so he gets up to yell at whoever is there

★ of fucking course its richie

★ “what are you doing here trashmouth? want me to embarrass myself even more in front of you? i dont have time for this--”

★ “stan, please,” richie says, and gives him a small smile “can you come outside? it wont take long”

★ stan stares long and hard, before closing the window and pacing around his room. he closes his eyes and figures, nothing else he could do could make things worse, so he makes his way down the stairs and cautiously opens the front door

★ his friends are all there, and stan looks aroud in suprise

★ eddie and bev release several party poppers, covering stan and his front porch (stan wants to clean it up immediately)

★ ben is holding up a boombox and playing some cheesy shit stan doesnt recognise

★ and then richie appears from around the corner and looks incredibly nervous, and stan didnt even notice before that hes wearing a very stylish blue suit - almost like the one he wore to stans bar mitzvah

★ “richie...?” stan almost whispers

★ “h-hey...” richie clears his throat and pulls anxiously at his bow tie. he looks unbelievably gorgeous. “um... this is... me trying to win you over”

★ and then stan sees bill and mike hoist up a banner that has the words ‘wanna fuck shit up with me?’ written in red

★ “...what?” stan asks, confused

★ “richie see i knew that was dumb” says eddie as he gestures to the banner

★ “ugh, just,” richie sighs, shaking his head before laughing “basically, stanley uris... will you go to prom with me?”

★ and stan feels his insides turn hot and nerves creep along his skin. was this actually happening? surely not

★ he must have freaked out for ages because richies face has gone pale as he bites his lip in wait

★ “oh my god...” stan finally breathes “i am the hot babe”

★ and theres a pause, everyone blinking at each other, until richie starts to laugh hysterically and then everyone is definitely going “????”

★ “god, yes,” richie exhales, looking so fucking happy “youve always been my babe, babe”

★ and stan flushes so hard at how casual richie is acting, but doesnt want it to stop, ever?? and then richie is stepping closer and they both reach for each other and hold on so tightly and stans heart is beating so fast oh my god

★ richie kisses lightly along stans neck and whispers “its always been you”

★ and stan wants to cry, holy shit

★ richie turns back to their friends as says “thanks for your help guys, i got it from here”

★ and the losers all grin and roll their eyes and say theyll see them tonight at prom

★ and then richie turns back to look at stan, and stan cant look away as his fingers grip even tighter on richies shoulders

★ “you never answered me,” richie says cheekily

★ “huh?” stan is still recovering

★ “you wanna fuck shit up with me, forever?” richie asks

★ and stan needs a moment to catch up, and then hes giggling and rubbing at his eyes, and he feels richie step even closer

★ “yes, i wanna fuck shit up with you” stan says, and richie beams “as long as we do it safely. i mean, id be happy to write out a list of things we could do that dont have too many risks, like, im not gonna steal for you or involve any authority figures because--”

★ and richie cuts him off swiftly with a kiss, and stan completely forgets what he was saying

★ “oh,” richie grins “this is gonna be fun”

★ they end up hacking the music at prom to play dirty as fuck songs and richie somehow releases a hoard of pigs onto the dance floor and its total chaos

★ and stan has never been more in love

#stozier #richie tozier #stanley uris #holy shit that got long #agjsfds #headcanons #99

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ectoflowermaid · 8 years ago

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Homestuck Beach Headcanons

John: hot sand hot sand hot sand *makes it to the water* cold water cold water cold water (this goes on for like an hour before he settles finally). Brought one of those fake shark fins and straps it to the top of his head. He fools no one. Brought approximately 53 kites and loses All of them because Dave said “hey I bet your kites can’t hold up against your windy thing”. He was right. Tells Karkat that the ocean speaks to ppl through conch shells, he holds one up to his ear, nods, “sorry Karkat, the ocean says you’re an idiot”. Karkat is horrified and John is dying trying to keep a straight face.

Dave: has a SBAHJ swimsuit and a SBAHJ surfboard. Challenges Jade to a surf-off. “Are you sure, Dave? I’ve had a lot of practice and it’s not as easy as it looks! I’ve got it, Dave reassures her. How difficult can it be. She warned u, bro. She warned u about the surf. He does not get back in the water. Fills a bucket with crabs of various shapes and sizes throughout the day, at the end he calls Karkat over to where he’s standing by the waters edge. Hey. Hey Karkat. Look what I found. He pours the crabs out at Karkat’s feet. Karkat looks unsettled. Dave. Where did you even find all these crabs Dave. They’re your children Karkat. I did this for you.

Jade: spends the whole day in the water and also she is a surf goddess did I mention that? Doesn’t put any sunscreen in and everyone is concerned but she barely even tans. After getting out of the water she does the Wet Doggo Shake™ Jade can u pls just warn us before u do that pls you’re getting us all soaking wet. Smells suspiciously like wet dog but everyone is too polite to point it out. Helps Dave collect his crabs bc she has an uncanny knack for finding them (she’s sniffing them out with her doggy nose but doesn’t tell Dave bc she wants to show off).

Rose: builds sand castles with Kanaya bc Kanaya is deadass terrified of the ocean. They surpass sandcastle tbh it’s more like a sand palace. Rose found a bunch of nice purpley shells to decorate with and also some rocks that look suspiciously arcane and vaguely powerful. High tide somehow wipes out the group’s chairs but doesn’t touch the sandcastle. Hm. Chastises Dave for building dicks out of the sand. Is there something you’d like to tell us, Dave? *Dave sweating* what’s a penis I don’t even know anyone named Karkat. Rose smiles innocently. Of course not. Throughout the day, Rose brings water for Kanaya to drink and also to dump on her so she can regulate her body temperature. Since she’s a cold-blood her body temp is lower so she overheats v easily.

Kanaya: is deadass terrified of the ocean. Does the detail work on the castle she and Rose are making, carves out little stairs and turrets and makes flags out of spare ribbon she keeps in her bag. It’s beautiful. She cries at the end of the day when they have to leave it even though they’ve taken lots of pictures. . Karkat comes up to her with a conch shell and holds it out to Kanaya, “john told me the ocean said I was an idiot Kanaya what is it saying I can’t hear anything” She takes the conch shell and listens. Mmhm. Yes. Oh My. “What did it say???” It Was Really Quite Rude, I Shouldn’t Repeat It. Karkat is about to cry. Kanaya and Rose secretly fist bump.

Karkat: oh boy this has really been A Day for him. He’s nervous around the ocean already but apparently it thinks he’s an idiot??? He loves the crabs they remind him of his lusus, it was slightly horrifying that Dave put a bunch of them in a bucket for obvious reasons. Wants to be buried in the sand, Jake helps him dig a big hole and he and Dave and Dirk all work together to make it big enough and fill it in afterwards. Dave writes “im gay” underneath Karkat’s head poking out and Karkat yells at him for taking pictures. Sollux falls asleep on his towel and Karkat writes “beefucker” on his forehead.

Terezi: before they got there everyone told Terezi not to lick the sand. Guess what she did. Also, accidentally popped the beach ball with her teeth because she was licking it. There’s a theme here can u find it. Is in the water a lot because Vriska is desperately trying to regulate her body temperature and has v little energy to say mean things which everyone is grateful for. To make her feel better, Terezi engages in wildly uncreative insults that Vriska can easily latch onto without having to put much energy in. “Hey Terezi is the water cold?” I don’t know john, is your FACE cold? “Terezi that doesn’t even make any sense”, your face doesn’t make any sense! She cackles as if this is some High Brow Humor every single time.

Jake: has an irrational fear of seagulls, they keep coming for his food and that makes him nervous because the monsters on his island were one thing but this? This sly and wily creature? Dirk is like,,,buddy,,,it’s just a seagull? It’s just a bird? “They’re eating my fries, Dirk, I won’t stand for it!” Jake has a little ukulele that he knows like five songs on, he sits outside by the boardwalk and just strums it sometimes after dark. One night, two little kids come by and give him 6 dollars in crumpled singles for his playing and he started crying he was so touched.

Jane: is having the TIME of her life, and is also the Mom friend. She’s simultaneously kicking ass at beach volleyball and reminding everyone to put on their sunscreen and reapply every two hours please! She’s also having a good time experimenting with cooking seafood some nights, though once she made the mistake of bringing in crab and Karkat did Not take it well. It took an hour to calm him down. Jane felt awful and made it up to him by buying him a nice hoodie w a happy crab on it. Bought a cute little blue boogie board and hangs out with Jade and Roxy in the water, she’s not very good at it but she likes swimming around a little.

Dirk: he’s that one friend that goes way too hard in casual games tbh. Like, they’re just playing a friendly game of volleyball Dirk can you please stop spiking it every five seconds. The grind never stops, Roxy, don’t hate the player hate the grind. Jane looked at him w so much disappointment in her eyes after he said it that he felt the force of her stare physically and had to take a step back. Tries to show Jake that seagulls aren’t scary by feeding them, but they start attacking him for his fries which does not help prove his point at all.

Roxy: “the babe” Lalonde has been ready for a beach trip her entire life. She is checking out the lifeguards, she’s checking out the other gals and dudes strolling about the beach, she’s got her best friends with her, what more could she want??? She buys a cutesy pink surfboard and Dave makes fun of her for it and she smiles sweetly. Oh sorry Dave? I forgot you were so good at surfing?? No one knows how or when Roxy learned to hang ten but THERE SHE GOES. She finds a lot of pretty shells and rocks and sand dollars and is just enthusiastic about everything tbh. She brightens everyone’s mood always.

Calliope: cherubs can’t float so Roxy’s overprotective ass won’t let her near the water unless someone is with her and making sure she’s safe. This is Fine with calliope bc that means that she’s never alone and therefore she’s never lonely and really that’s all she’s ever wanted so!! She’s v content to watch Jade and Roxy surf, she will sit w Jane sometimes when she isn’t in the water. She also likes digging for sand crabs with Karkat bc she likes their little legs. She wants to dig deep enough to find a lobster and no one has the heart to tell her that’s not how it works.

Sollux: this idiot. This boy. My sweet sweet son. Makes the horrible mistake of falling asleep on his towel. He was underneath the big umbrella when he started, but as the sun moves and he’s not putting on more sunscreen?? John, Dave, and Karkat take it upon themselves to not only write “beefucker” on his forehead, but also draw dicks on his whole body in sunscreen so he burns (trolls turn a darker shade of their blood color) and ends up with these pale gray dicks surrounded by a horrible dark, mustardy burn.

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geekprincess26 · 7 years ago

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Four Weddings and a Blizzard: Chapter 5

My Day 6 (and final, because it’s only an hour and 15 minutes before the premiere starts) entry in the Jonsa Season 7 Summer Challenge. I chose the “Music” theme. A huge THANK YOU to @jonsa-creatives for hosting this amazing event and giving me the incentive to complete another Jonsa fanfic!

Sansa Stark married Jon Snow nine months after Rickon’s wedding. It was the first day of spring, but a fierce blizzard swept out of the north just as the ceremony began. Snowflakes swirled around the stained-glass windows of the historic church and cast ethereal beams of light on the pews and white-carpeted aisle. Sansa grinned as she took her last glance through the windows adorning the foyer where she and her father stood waiting for Arya, the maid of honor, to reach the altar.

The Sansa who had stared at the stained-glass windows during Robb’s wedding so long ago had dreamed of marrying in an art museum, or perhaps the St. Paul Cathedral, at the height of summer; and at the center of it all she had imagined herself in a bejeweled ball gown and surrounded by bridesmaids in identical yellow chiffon gowns carrying red roses. But that Sansa had wanted a long engagement and a marriage to Joffrey Baratheon, and both ideas seemed equally ridiculous to her now. In any case, the brief length of her engagement had sent Jon scrambling to his friend Sam Tarly, the church’s pastor, to snag it as their venue, and sent Sansa and her family scrambling to the Mall of America and the nearest Michaels to get cloth, candles, beads, and everything else the bride-to-be needed in order to craft her own wedding decorations. There was no time to order custom-made dresses; so Sansa had told her bridesmaids to select the champagne-colored gowns of their choice and bought a sample gown for herself in the second bridal salon she had visited. It was all very rushed; but Sansa had grinned madly the first time she saw the diverse assortment of bridesmaids’ dresses next to her own and thought she could never have imagined such a beautiful arrangement if she had planned it herself. She had hummed every evening as she had assembled decorations out of the very non-uniform assortment of beads and ribbons she and her family had managed to snag at the store. Her humming had turned to singing, and Jon had often crept up behind her to take her in his arms and hum along with her. His voice was never quite on-key, but Sansa never cared, especially when he would slowly turn her body into his arms and begin kissing her, which made her knees buckle and her mind forget about everything but Jon’s strong arms and passionately tender kisses and and whispers of I love you, Sansa Stark.

That, Sansa reflected now as she grinned even more widely, was probably why she and her family members had been up until 2:00 on the morning of the rehearsal dinner finishing the decorations. Ned Stark turned to look at his daughter and shook his head.

“You’re the first one of my children with fewer tears than me on their wedding day,” he said, but his trembling voice belied his light tone. He opened his mouth to continue, but instead shook his head again and bent to kiss her cheek.

“I’m your rebel, I guess, Dad,” Sansa whispered back, and suddenly her own voice started to quiver. “I’m not getting married in the summer or in Wisconsin. Or in the sun.” She inclined her head toward the snow pounding against the nearest window, a tiny opening covered by a glass depiction of a blue rose against a gray background studded with clear, sparkling snowflakes. “And I’m not twenty-four years old, like everybody else.”

Ned Stark kissed his daughter’s cheek again. “Your husband was worth waiting a lot more than twenty-four years for,” he said gruffly, and tears blurred Sansa’s vision. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and felt him kiss her briefly on the forehead before she straightened, adjusted her bouquet of white roses, and watched the ushers open the double wooden doors in front of her.

In the weddings created by Sansa’s fancy years ago, she smiled at her groom warmly, but not too soppily; and she teared up a bit, but did not actually cry. Now, the moment the doors opened, tears began pouring down her cheeks, which were split nearly in two by the most utterly foolish grin Sansa had ever worn. She cried when her father placed her head into Jon’s, and she cried as Sam began the wedding sermon. Jon’s own eyes were suspiciously wet, and he kept reaching over to thumb the tears gently off of her cheeks. So neither of them noticed the murmur that spread among the guests seated at the front of the church five minutes or so into the message. Neither, in fact, noticed any sign of trouble until Catelyn Stark’s yelp brought both of them turning sharply to see Edd Tollett, Jon’s friend and groomsman, fainting dead away into the arms of a very startled Robb, who had been standing next to him. Sam stopped speaking at once, and he did not continue until Edd had been roused and helped out of the room by Jon’s friends Tormund Giantsbane and Davos Seaworth to a round of applause from the entire room. He made a joke about the building’s overly enthusiastic heating system before continuing, but his jest had more merit than Sansa had thought, for not five minutes later, Rickon swayed and collapsed. Tormund caught him just in time, and Lyanna sprinted out of the room after them both. Sansa felt Jon squeeze her hands, and she turned back to him at once.

“You all right?” he whispered in a voice so low that not even Sam heard it, and the smile returned to Sansa’s face, and she nodded.

“How about you?” she murmured; and the tender joy that lit Jon’s face was all the answer she needed.

Bran went pale and had to be wheeled out of the sanctuary by Meera right after Jon and Sansa had spoken their vows; but by then Edd, still pale, had returned, and Sam paused the ceremony again while two of the ushers retrieved a chair from one of the back rooms and set it on the dais so he could take back his place by Robb’s side. They repeated the same procedure for Rickon, who re-entered the sanctuary right before the exchanging of the rings; and Meera wheeled Brank back in just in time for Sam to pronounce Jon and Sansa husband and wife. Before he had time to finish instructing Jon to kiss his bride, the latter had thrown his arms around her and kissed her senseless. Loud whoops punctuated their march up the aisle; but Sansa only giggled with happiness.

The wind howled more fiercely as the evening went on, and snowflakes piled merrily around the hotel where the reception was held. All three of the afflicted groomsmen had recovered enough to initiate round after round of glass clinking during the dinner, and they needled Jon when he kissed his wife thoroughly each time. They teased even more mercilessly when the deejay announced the first dance, although Sansa merely rolled her eyes and informed them that she would not expect any of them to appreciate her husband’s excellent taste in music. Jon, a long-term Nickelback fan, grinned and kissed her in appreciation as the band’s “Far Away” played over the hall’s speakers. When the chorus started, his smile widened, and so did Sansa’s, and they sang the words to each other:

I love you; I have loved you all along. I’ve missed you; Been far away for far too long.

When the second verse began, Jon pulled his wife in for a gentle kiss. Sansa returned it a little less gently, and their lips spent most of the rest of the song connected.

“Oh, God, get a room,” Arya muttered over the whoops of the groomsmen as the two departed the dance floor. Sansa stuck out her tongue.

Time whirled away along with the snowflakes, and Sansa whirled happily across the dance floor. Jon had never been much of a dancer, but he could not stop beaming in any case. Only when Jon twirled Sansa near the corner of the floor during a waltz did an enthusiastic argument between Rickon and Gendry snap out of their reverie.

“What’s all that about?” Sansa asked Robb when the dance was over.

Robb grinned. “They made a bet,” he replied. Sansa narrowed her eyes, but Robb took no notice. “They’ve each been trying to talk the deejay into playing a different song. They have to drink every time they fail.

Sansa, who had heard no deviations from the list she had gone over with the deejay, shook her head. Jon grinned next to her. “Which songs?” he asked.

Robb’s blue eyes twinkled. “Gendry asked for ‘My Humps.’ Rickon picked ‘Baby Got Back.’”

Jon snorted, and Sansa grinned widely enough to outdo Robb. “Oh, Lancel Lannister won’t play anything I told him not to,” she replied. “I have way too much dirt on him from when we were at the U of M together.”

So she was not surprised when she heard Lyanna declaring loudly to her husband during the next dance that she could still drink him under the table and then have some more ale in their hotel room besides, and still dance better than he. Sansa and Jon took one look at each other and began laughing. They only laughed harder when they saw the silly grin on Gendry’s face as he swung Arya happily and sang her the words of Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You, Babe.” Arya was shaking her head; but Sansa caught the mischievous glint in her eye as she and Jon sashayed past the two. She snorted, and then snorted again when she saw Robb and Jeyne swaying in each other’s arms and kissing all the way across the dance floor next to Bran, who was whispering something to a blushing, giddy Meera.

“Oh, God,” she groaned. “How much do you want to bet one of them conceives our next niece or nephew tonight?”

Jon only grinned. “Maybe all four,” he said. Sansa snorted again. Then she bit her lip and fixed him with a devilish grin.

“How about we go all the way and make it five?” she suggested. Jon’s answering grin was even more devilish than her own.

“I’m game if you are,” he said, and leaned down to whisper in her ear as the song ended, “I’ve got you, babe.”

Sansa blushed.

She blushed harder when Jon kissed her senseless in the corner during the next song. She blushed even harder when the deejay announced the bride and groom’s departure, and squealed when Jon swept her up in his arms to carry her off the floor and into the hallway containing the elevator that led to the bridal suite. And she felt her entire body flushing red when Jon set her down inside the elevator and began planting kisses down her neck and shoulder. Once they reached the suite, Sansa, determined to give him back as good as she had gotten, proceeded to attack his lips with her own.

“This room’s even hotter than the church, dear,” she said when they finally drew back to catch their breath. She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “Do you mind helping me take off my dress?”

Jon’s eyes went a shade darker, and his answering hum had a distinct rumble to it. Sansa grinned and turned her back to him. She expected him to undo the zipper as quickly as he could; but instead he nibbled a trail of kisses from the base of her neck all the way down her spine. They made Sansa hum and shiver, like the snowflakes kissing the windows of the suite; and by the time Jon lowered her dress carefully to the floor, she could barely step out of it due to her thighs rubbing each other in anticipation and delight.

“Your turn,” she rasped after kissing Jon deeply once again. Her lips drew a long line of kisses down his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt, kisses punctuated by his groans of Sansa, Sansa, Sansa. By the time she had flung his shirt to a far corner of the bed, his gray irises had turned nearly as dark as his pupils. When he leaned over her to undo the straps of her lingerie, he pressed his mouth to her shoulders and neck over and over; and by the time he reached back to take her mouth, Sansa was groaning loudly, and she moaned Jon, Jon, Jon into his mouth as she opened her legs to wrap them tightly around his waist.

The snowflakes continued to fall, and the wind continued to howl; but their chill could not match the heat of Jon’s kisses trailing up and down his new wife’s body, and their wailing could not match the keening emanating from Sansa as that body writhed with pleasure, or the moans Jon hummed in concert into her neck. Nor could snow or wind have hoped to shatter the tender gaze with which his gray eyes fixed his wife’s as Sansa gladly opened her lips and her body to fuse herself joyfully with her husband. And neither howling nor chill could drown out the cries of ecstasy and love that mingled in air and across clutched hands and on warm, undulating flesh alike.

After a time, the snow stopped falling, and the wind ceased howling, and husband and wife lay cradled in each other’s arms. Jon stroked Sansa’s flushed cheek, and she ran a gentle hand through his sweaty curls.

“I suppose Arya should be happy now,” she whispered, a lazy grin on her face.

Jon reached over to kiss her forehead. “Why is that, my love?” he murmured.

“Well,” Sansa replied, “she did tell Gendry after Rickon’s wedding that it had taken us long enough to get together. And tonight, she did tell us to get a room.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and Jon chuckled. “And I have a few more plans for how we can use it this weekend.”

Jon reached up to brush a strand of hair off his wife’s face. “And I intend to follow them all, love of my life,” he whispered, and planted a tender kiss on her lips.

#jonsas7summer #jonxsansaff #jonsansaff #jon x sansa #jonsa fanfiction #game of thrones #my writing #multi-chapter fics #modern au #weddings #drama #good-natured family mischief #fluff and feels

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