#horn o’clock

[fairly-tragic]

you ever just look at someone and think, man I want to make you cum so much your body will be vibrating from the aftershock

[julieloves074]

Everything (Conrad Fisher x Y/n)

Summary: Y/n had won the battle against cancer at the age of ten but no one expected it to come back. When the truth comes to light the perfect summer crashes down around them. Especially for Conrad, Y/n is his love, his life, his everything

Warnings: Cancer, sadness, swearing, angst 

Words: 7.4K

(Not my GIF :))

Summer in Cousins was the one time of year I felt truly free, nothing really mattered there. Then again, everything mattered there. Belly liked to say nothing existed outside of summer, all the other seasons were just a pass by for it, and I couldn’t argue with her.

This was exactly why I wanted one last perfect summer. Mom told me that I wasn’t being fair, that this was going to be worse for everyone but wasn’t I allowed to be selfish? For once? I knew she couldn’t see it the way I did. I wanted Belly to have her first summer of real fun without having to worry about me. I wanted to see Jeremiah and Steven act stupid all summer without feeling like they needed to slow down for me. I wanted to see Conrad to be happy for one more summer, with me.

And everything was going so well, for the most part. Just like any other summer there was drama: Belly with her new friend Cam Cameron and Jeremiah, Steven with Taylor and Shaila but it was our kid problems, nothing more than that until tonight.

“Y/n you are not allowed to go!” My mother shouted as I made my way downstairs at eight o’clock.

“Stop babying me for God’s sake! I’m telling you I feel fine, I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” I screamed back, I just wanted to go to a party with my friends, I knew I had limits now and that I had to be careful. Still, I couldn’t stay locked in forever.

“Y/n you are getting weaker, are you trying to give your father and I a heart attack?” she asked, her voice still raised but there was a falter, it made me turn right around on my heel. There she was, standing on the top step with tears in her eyes. I could feel my own gloss over. I took a deep breath and looked up in an attempt to stop any tears falling, I was only wearing waterproof mascara but still-

“You’re our little girl and we just want to protect you,” Mom said, face flooded now, lowering to sit on the top stair, she was getting more tired now too.

“Mom I’m eighteen, I don’t know if I will make it through chemo this time and I can’t let it make me live in fear. I won’t let it make me hide around my room if this is my last summer,” I said with urgency and plea.

“It’s going to be a long program Y/n, and it’s going to take lots of strength, both physical and emotional but don’t you dare say you are not going to make it. You will beat it. We just don’t want you to get overwhelmed,” Dad’s voice echoed gently as he came out of our kitchen and pulled me into a hug.

“I know-” I paused looking between both of them, my cardigan in one hand and phone in my other, “I’ve signed up for the program and I will fight this cancer again but there’s nothing I can do now but wait around until the first round of chemo begins again, and who knows what I’ll be able to do after it?” I asked, I didn’t know whether I would live, and if I did how long I’d be weak, I didn’t want to miss out on these teenage years.

I felt dad brush his hand down my arm with a sigh, he looked up to mom who shook her head and couldn’t lift her gaze.

“I know, I’m sorry honey, but you know that if anything happens you call us right away, no matt-“ she began, standing up, but I cut her off.

“No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing and there will be no questions asked,” I finished off for her, she smiled weakly and started making her way down to dad and I.

“Or you call for medical help first depending on what’s happening,” she informed me, at this point she’s said this to me so many times that I have the words tattooed inside my brain.

“I love you guys,” I said as they both squeeze me tightly just before a car horn sounds outside.

“Tell Connie we said hi and ask him to tell his mom we’ll bring that extra table for the barbeque party tomorrow when we come over for dinner,” Mom relayed to me as I slipped on my shoes.

“I will do,” I said quickly opening the door to slide out. I saw him first, Conrad Fisher, sat behind the wheel, his contagious smile and beautifully messy hair. Then I saw them, Belly, Jeremiah and Steven sat in the back all looking at Belly’s phone who sat in the middle, they were all laughing. I couldn’t believe the summer was nearly at it’s end and I got to spend it these wonderful, and slightly annoying, people.

“Omg Y/n you have to see this video Tylor filmed! This girl just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend so both she and the best friend chucked milkshakes at him! I’m so glad Taylor filmed this!” Belly exclaimed the second I opened the car door, pushing from up from her seat and shoving the phone in my face, I didn’t even get time to look before she leaned back and sat down muttering “Damn, Harry is not gonna have fun at school this year,”.

We all broke into a laughter, I turned to Connie who had his eyes on me since the moment I got in the car, I started relaying my parent’s message about the chairs and he leant over to kiss me.

“Okay we get it, you guys are in love but we have a party to get to!” Jeremiah exclaimed grabbing on my headrest to lean his body forwards into our space. I let out a laugh pulling away from Conrad.

“I love you,” he mouthed to me, I did the same back before he turned to his focus to the car and reversing in my driveway. The journey to the house party, I didn’t even know who was hosting this one, was filled with laughter and teasing to the point that Belly had actual tears running down her face.

“I am so glad you made me invest into waterproof mascara Y/n!” Belly said running her fingers under her eyes wiping away the tears. I loved having Belly around, another girl was great to have around, her being like a little sister to me. Even though it came with both its ups and downs of siblings like all the clothes she would ‘borrow’ and never give back, but she’s a good kid.

The party is looking well underway when we arrive, there’s flashing, changing lights to be seen through the windows and the music is echoing down the street. Some new trending song is blasting as we walk through the door. Belly quickly runs off to meet some friends she made at the country club, Jere was dragged away by some good looking guy whom he looked more than friendly with leaving me, Connie and Steven to head to the drinks table.

“Are you actually gonna drink with us tonight Y/n/n?” Steven asked leaning a cup in my direction. I really wanted to, I couldn’t express to anyone how much I wanted to fully let loose, drink away my worries for the night. But I couldn’t.

“Nah I’m good,” I tried to play it off cool, but he started play arguing with me.

“Alright let it go Steven,” Con said after a minutes, I lay my hand on his arm in a silent thanks.

“Okay well I’ll leave you loser to it I’ve just spotted Shayla coming in,” he announced already walking backwards to the beautiful girl.

“Are you alright?” Con’s voice pulled me away from the vision of Steven wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he had whispered something in her ear which made her erupt into this blooming, true laugh, they made each other so happy.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, pulling on a big smile, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I felt fine, more than fine standing here with him right next to me.

“It’s just you’ve not been wanting to drink, and not to pin you as an alcoholic or anything,” he defends quickly, “But you’re usually first to call shots,” he laughs pulling me closer as some guys come to the drinks table, it still swells my heart, his little tics of jealously and protection.

“I told you, it’s been really bad for my skin recently and I am not sacrificing this,” I reassured pointing to my face, “Plus it’s kind of funny being sober and watching everyone else make fools of themselves,”

“Can’t argue that,” he says, we settle into a comfortable silence, Con wasn’t drinking tonight he was nominated DD, so the two of us had to entertain ourselves sober. We weren’t standing around for too long when Getaway Car by Taylor Swift came on and I dragged him to the little makeshift dance floor in the living room.

We sang to each other as he led our little dance twirling me around every once in a while. Loads of the girls including Belly joined us screaming along to the bridge.

“God you’re perfect you know that? I think I’ll be crazy about you forever,” Con half shouted over the last chorus and I just shook him off with a gentle shove

“I love you,” I said pulling him into a massive hug. The second the song ended we noticed Jere and Steven stood in the doorway calling Con over, some kid was doing flip tricks on the trampoline and in their words ‘It was so sick! He’ll probably actually be sick if he doesn’t take a break!’

Connie was hesitant to leave me for a second, but I pushed him to the boys, they deserved his time as much as I did. I turned to the girls, and we danced to whatever song came on next, and the next and the next. By the fourth or fifth song I started to feel lightheaded.

“I’m just gonna find a bathroom real quick,” I shouted over to Belly tapping her shoulder, someone had turned the music up. She nodded and gave me a thumbs up before tipping the rest of her vodka lemonade in her mouth.

The bathroom downstairs had too long of a cue so I headed for the stairs in the entryway. Was someone turning up the music again or was it just the sound echoing in my head? I held onto the railing, but my legs were starting to feel heavier with each step. I had just managed to reach the landing, I wasn’t sure which door led to the bathroom, so I ambled to the closest door, it was a bedroom. A double bed in the center surrounded by deep blue wallpaper. It felt as though I was in the ocean somewhere, drifting away.

The bed frame was not giving me much support, I lowered myself to the ground, there was a small thud as I hid the wooden panels. I don’t think I let out a sound but before I knew it someone was rushing into the room.

“Y/n what’s going on?” the voice asked, I looked up but my sight was hazy, “Y/n?” the voice repeated, it was Steven taking a few careful steps towards me.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine just a little tired, I think I overheated a little downstairs I should have been drinking more water,” I said attempting to shoo him away with my hands, but in reality, I didn’t want him to leave, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get up without him.

“Y/n you’ve been off all summer so cut the bullshit, since when do we lie to each other?” he asked coming closer, his honestly sounded sober.

“My,” I start and feel something bubbling within me, I cried for an hour when I was diagnosed again, then I told myself I wasn’t allowed to again until after summer, I was allowed to be happy and excited for the summer without thinking about- “My cancers back Steven, and I-”

“I’m sorry you what?” Steven asked cutting me off, as if an animated character his jaw actually dropped, he was kneeling next to me in seconds, pulling me into a hug. I shut my eyes wishing that I had left earlier or taken a night off and rested like mom had suggested, “Conrad! Get in here,” Steven shouted repeatedly brushing a hand through my hair.

“What? Y/n? What happened? Steven what happened?” Conrad asked manically flinging himself to meet his body to mine, “Are you okay?” He asked again as he got no answer to his first lot of questions. He brushed his hand down my arm.

“I’m so sorry,” I let out with a sob, shaking my head from side to side, I saw Belly run in confused with Jeremiah behind her. Others seemed to be crowding at the door but Jere quickly shut it firmly, announcing “Nothing to see here! Go grab some alcohol and make out or whatever,” before turning his attention back to me.

Now this was truly my worst nightmare, they were all looking at me, apart from Steven who had curled up and looked at the floor next to me.

“I’m sorry that I ruined our last summer together,” I said

“Y/n what are you talking about, what happened?” Belly asked brushing some hair out of my face.

“It’s back and I- I don’t think it’ll go away this time,” I whisper as if saying it out loud would mean that it was true, that I was hurting everyone around me once again.

“What’s back?” Jere asks nonchalantly at first before a realization hits him “You don’t mean-” at this Belly burst into a wail.

I looked up at Conrad, he was just staring at me, I couldn’t read his reaction at all. I brushed my hands up and down his arms, it was as if he was frozen it time. I needed him to say something, just that action was wearing me out.

“Come on let’s get you home,” Jere said, his eyes red, he was trying to be a voice of reason, be the one who doesn’t break down so he can support the rest of us. When had he become this grown up? “This isn’t a place for a conversation like this,”.

I can’t quite place what emotion was flowing through me as I was basically carried out of the house with one arm around Con the other around Steven. The whole thing seemed in slow motion to me, all the faces in the crowd of my friends and drunk strangers. How many of them realize what’s actually happening and how many of them simply thought I’d gotten hysterically drunk?

The ride back to my house was quiet other than Belly’s phone call to my mom and then Susannah and Laurel letting them know where they were all going. I was ushered into bed by mom and listened to the heartbroken whispers downstairs in the living room under my bedroom.

Mom and Belly were crying, and dad was trying to calm them down. Conrad was adamant to stay with me whilst dad offered to drive everyone else home as they’d all been drinking. When the front door shut, I heard the footsteps that shuffled upstairs.

“Connie,” I said as he walked into my room, his expression filled with sorrow and with the limited lighting of my bedside lamp I could swear he too had tears rolling from his eyes and down his beautiful face.

“You’re okay, you’re going to get better,” he said repeating in quiet whispers, whether he was trying to convince me or himself I was not sure but I let him. I pulled up my duvet and moved slightly to give him space.

He touched my hair, my face, my arms gliding his fingers as if I was made of porcelain. The first time I was diagnosed and fighting cancer I was 10 and whilst everyone was gentle with me then now it felt like a different kind of touch. A mixture of so much love and pain that I would do- give anything to make him better.

“I love you, so so much,” I whispered, pulling one of his arms around me, I wanted to feel him, all of him here in this house, our summer place. I was surprised he hadn’t run, when Con got overwhelmed he always ran, hiding was his protection. If I did anything in my life, helping Connie learn a better way to cope, or to start to was the best thing that I did.

“Don’t say it like that,” he whispered back, his eyes were closed tight shut.

“Like what?” I asked cautiously, somehow, I knew what he was going to say, I brushed my fingers through his soft hair, his pre-summer haircut was always my favorite. It wasn’t too long, not too short, just enough to outline his face and perfectly highlight his eyes.

“Like it’s one of the last times you’ll ever say it,” his voice cracked and I kept running my fingers through his locks, soothing him. It’s funny how I’m the one who this has happened to yet I’m the one who’s been reassuring everyone that everything happens for a reason. Maybe it was because I’d lived enough to know what the purest of happiness was and that I’d experienced honest love even though some never do.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I kept repeating as if I was counting stars up in the sky or the little sheep jumping over the fence in hopes of falling asleep. I’d said it so much my mouth had started running dry but if that was the price for having this boy, this kind, loving boy in my arms until my end I’d pay it over and over and more.

Unfortunately, the underlying sour mood was carried into the next morning, when I woke up to the glimpse of summer that danced in through the half open curtain Conrad was still asleep. He usually looked peaceful when he slept but this morning even in his most fragile states his brows were creased and his breathing was heavy and uneven. I watched him, when we get back to Boston nothing will ever be the same, and we only have a week left here in Cousins.

I untangled from his arms. I tended to have more strength in the morning but today I gripped onto the white wooden rail as I ambled downstairs and into the kitchen. Walking past the living room I noticed figures asleep on the couch. I smiled to myself when I saw Jeremiah and the Conklin siblings, they never left last night.

The clock hit seven when I walked into the kitchen, mom sat there with her kindle in hand, cup of coffee in front of her, but she stared unfocused at the device The lines under her eyes were darker than last night, she looked exhausted. Dad was at the kitchen counter prepping some eggs, bacon and sausages, the good old English Breakfast. He too looked as though he hadn’t slept.

“Morning sweetheart,” mom said looking up, her whole expression changed from worry to love, and though she tried to hide it the worry was still there, rooted deeply in her skin. I took a step towards her and she rushed out of her chair to grab me into a tight embrace.

A thousand things I wanted to say sat there pooling in my head because I simply couldn’t get them out.

“Your dad went out last night to get some more breakfast supplies, we’re feeding some unexpected- but most welcome mouths this morning,” she conveyed and I just nodded, my head resting in her neck, “I’ve called Princeton this morning and explained the situation, they said depending on how long the treatment is going to take they may move your enrollment to next year just so you don’t fall too far behind,” mom explained and I watched my dad’s feet shuffle towards us. College was the last thing on my mind, everyone here was.

“We also called the hospital and they’ve decided to start your sessions earlier,” dad said, this forced me to pull back.

“What do you mean?” I asked frantically, “We’ve had the date set for the day after we get back! How can I start my treatment earlier if we’ll still be here?” I questioned.

“We’ll be heading back to Boston tomorrow Y/n” mom conveyed, I took another step back. No! I needed this last week here with these people.

“But we agreed-” I tried to reason, to argue.

“I know sweetheart, but your health is more important to us, the doctors were already weary of letting you have the whole summer here anyway,” dad leaned against the kitchen counter with one hand and the other travelled to his forehead, an attempt to brush the physical signs of fear and worry away.

“We’re your parents Y/n, we just want what’s best,” mom reassured, and I knew they were right, they usually tended to be but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

“The moms have organized a day full of fun and the celebratory barbeque dinner tonight,” Belly, who was now leaning against the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, said.

“We’re all leaving tomorrow Y/n, we’re going to be there with you every step of the way,” Jeremiah said, his stunning ocean eyes expressing the purest admiration, his one hand was around Belly’s waist. A side of my mouth twisted up in a sly smile. I had predicted this years ago, Con owed me fifty bucks now.  

“Oh my- come here the both of you right now,” I demanded, I took a few steps towards them but they did most of the work.

“I want in too!” Steven, voice all groggy and half asleep, demanded as he jogged towards us. We stood there hugging for longer than we ever have, it was nice and warm.

We all sat around the table playing a round of uno as dad started to make breakfast, mom offered to help to give us the space, she knew we got far too competitive when it came to this game.

I had two cards left, the least out of all when Jeremiah spoke up from next to me, “Connie isn’t taking it well, he went outside at around three in the morning and he just sobbed, I thought you needed to know” his eyes with sympathetic and glossed over.

“I just don’t want him to shut everyone out now,” I said knowing that the boy had a thing for bottling up his emotions until they finally explode. He stayed last night but who knew which was his mood would sway today.

“He’s going to be around, he’ll be here for you, we all will,” Jeremiah reassured.

The day went by faster than anyone wanted, Conrad came down perfectly in time for breakfast, he pulled a chair to sit next to me. Just like his usual self he wanted to be near me, touching me at all times, whether it was his shoulder brushing mine, a hand on thigh or his head on my shoulder. After breakfast we when back to Susannah’s house and sat on their private stretch of beach. Then we competed in a murder mystery game that us kids created when we were twelve. It was actually pretty intriguing even for the moms and dad.

“I can’t believe you kept stored away for six years mom,” Jere said to which Susannah replied with a knowing motherly smile and pulled another clue card.

Then we went to the pier, had ice cream and I absolutely crushed everyone at the arcade games winning most of the challenges, the great showdown occurred yet again even though Laurel banned it all those years ago. Then we headed back for dinner at the beach house, Jere and Steven operated the grill, we all sat around talking and I managed enough energy to play a quick round of water polo in the newly upgraded heated pool.

Through the whole day Conrad was never more than a few feet away from me. He managed to upkeep a smile most of the time, but when he thought I couldn’t see it faltered. I always knew he was a good one.

At around eleven mom and dad headed back home whilst the rest of us cuddled up on the couches to watch some romcom on Netflix. About halfway through Belly decided she wanted popcorn, so we took a pause and Susannah said she wanted to brush my hair. She loved doing both mine and Belly’s hair, we were her honorary daughters so of course I let her. One of the many things I love about her is that no matter the weather, or what was going on she was a ray of sunshine. I don’t mean that she was always happy, but she always held out hope and guided everyone to the other side of any storm cloud.

After the movie had finished and we got a good hour into the titanic most of us were dozing off, Susannah started shooing everyone off to bed. She too went upstairs leaving Conrad and I sat on the sofa. I looked at him as soon as the whole floor was clear. My eyes asked the quiet question, begged the questions.

“Are you sure? Do you feel like you have enough strength?” he asked, and I smiled, my brain scanned through images of this boy as we grew up, side by side and through all of it he stayed true just like his mom.

“What have we been doing for the past four hours if not sitting and laying around?” I asked lifting my brows in a giggle.

He shook his head slightly and half a smirk managed to make it onto his face, “It’s been a long busy day, that’s all I’m saying,” he defended himself.

“I know, but I’m fine I promise, let’s go!” I encouraged lifting from the couch and pulling him up by his arm. It didn’t take much convincing, when he stood, he gave me a long, slow kiss before resting his arm around my shoulder. We fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle finally put together.

We walked down the sandy path towards their private part of the beach, nudging each other and giggling just like the night Conrad first kissed me, just like the night he had asked me to be his girlfriend. Most, if not all our important milestones happened here at the beach house.

“Do you know what?” He asked breaking the silence, even just the sound of his voice was enough to press my body and mind into total peace but also force my heart to beat at an ungodly speed, still after being together for two and a half years.

“What?”

“One day, the day we get married, I’ll scoop you up like this,” he pauses turning to me, I look at him confused for a second as he coddles me in his arms like a princess, I let out a giggle, “and I’ll carry you into this house,” he pointed to the summer house, “then I’ll carry you out back and all the way to the beach and kiss you until the sun goes down and the moon hangs up high in the sky like tonight and never let you go,” he whispered into my ear as we neared the beach.

“Connie,” I began but he shushed me

“I know, I know you don’t like planning that far ahead, but this is non-negotiable, you said we’re allowed one non-negotiable each. You have yours and I have mine,” he said in a manner of fact way, I just laughed and leaned up to kiss him.

“You do know, I know that was all a ruse so that I didn’t have to walk,” I said and he just smiled, “You’re amazing and I love you but please put me down,” I asked, not because I didn’t love to be treated like a princess but because I felt good and I wanted to experience this with him in the way it’s always meant to be.

When we got onto the open part of the beach it was much windier, Con took off his coat leaving him in his jumper and wrapped it around my arms. We listened to the song of the water and watched the waves.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he announced into the night, he’s sat half leaning on his legs.

“Why’s that?” I asked, there were so many things both of us had to be thankful for.

“That I met you, that I have you, that you chose me and let me hold and love you, I think I’m the luckiest man on the planet,” he says, his gaze drifting to the stars above us. Not a single cloud in the sky tonight.

“Do you know what I think is lucky?” I asked laying my head on his shoulder, my eyes getting tired now.

He finally turns to me and smiles, “What?”

“That we both live in Boston,” I said and he shook his head, clearly not what he was expecting. But it was true, our grandparents met at the Cousin’s country club years ago, our grandmothers were friends which then meant our moms were friends, they went to collage together, it was both of their dreams to live in Boston so they moved out there together not expecting to both live in that city for so long but I was so thankful they did because that meant that I got the Fisher boys and Susannah all year round.

It was around the time that we could see the first shades of yellow and orange of the sun that we decided to head back, his sheets were cold but his arms around me were more than enough to keep me warm in the breezy summer night.

The next day mom and dad came round for breakfast, it was a feast ranging from cereal and toast to pancakes with fresh fruits and muffins which Jere and Belly had gone for a morning run for. Just as fast as the breakfast had disappeared, we were all packing up and getting ready to leave.

As I watched the scenery leaving Cousins, I felt guilty that everyone was cutting their trip short, no matter how much they tried to reassure me that it was okay and that they didn’t mind. Still Laurel, Belly and Steven had agreed to say in Susannah’s house in Boston for the week which meant we still got to have that time together before everything went back into motion in September.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

It was a week after the Conklin’s left that I was told I would be better off shaving off my hair now with it being earlier in the process in order to avoid more emotional highs later on which could affect the medication.

I’d agreed on the terms that Susannah would be the one to do it, together we supported and acted for a hair donation charity which turned hair into wigs for children with cancer, so that’s exactly where my hair was headed.

It was a Friday night, which is always Pizza night, whether ordered in or homemade, one week at our house one week at the Fisher’s. It was that night that I was going to shave all the hair off, the thought wasn’t as scary as I remember it being from the first time around, but I would miss it.

I sit with a towel around my shoulders looking at myself in the mirror of the master bathroom, the boys were both sat in there with my mom, Belly was facetiming us and Susannah stood behind me with the scissors, this was harder for her than for me.

Mom held my hand and dad stood in the doorway with a tight smile. Susannah had braided my hair into two braids and after a nervous laughter and whispering ‘I love you’ she cut the first one, the snip of the scissors was loud in my ears as she worked through the thick of one braid. A breath escaped my lips and quickly enough we were on the second braid. Now Conrad held onto my other hand, the corners of his eyes creasing. And then the other was gone too.

In a way it felt like a weight was lifted off me, I mean it literally had been, my head felt lighter, and I was left with uneven scraps all over my head.

“Hey I dig the short hair!” Jeremiah says hand extended to fist bump me, I  felt obliged saying, “Now we know I could steal your hairstyle and still be cooler than you,” I remarked and he pulled a smirk.

“Listen up Y/n/n at least my cut isn’t so uneven,” he laughs

“Well, mine’s about to be more smooth than yours, what you gonna do?” I play intimidated as mom placed my braids into the zip lock bag ready to be posted.

“Some little girl or boy is going to be really happy when they receive that hair you know that Y/n” Susannah said squeezing my shoulders after plugging in the razor. This time I closed my eyes and squeezed Connie’s hand tighter.

When half my head was done, I felt a bit of a breeze but I didn’t want to open my eyes yet, I’ve said many times that hair wasn’t a determining factor in my life but at the end of the day it was a part of me.

“All done,” Susannah said and I could hear a fragile smile in her words, I nodded with my own smile.

Then after a second the sound of the razor when off again and my eyes shot open, before I could stop it I saw Connie’s soft, brown hair falling from his head. He has run a strip right in the middle of his hair.

I leaped out of the stool. But it was too fast, everything around me started spinning slightly and my knees had gone weak. I grabbed the counter in front of me and both mom and Jeremiah leaned forward for support.

“I’m okay,” I say after a second, I closed my eyes and steadied myself, what was actually a matter of a minute felt like hours, but then I was stood again with another reminder: slow.

“Connie what were you thinking?” I asked incredulously and he was just shaking his head smiling, a glimpse of tears in his eyes.

“I’m in this with you, I told you I would be here every step of the way and I will,” he stood right in front of me, his deep blue eyes staring right into my soul, how had I been so lucky to have been granted the love of this boy and everyone else in this room. I pulled him into a tight embrace, retaining his warmth, his touch.

Jere jerked taking the turned off razor out of his brother’s hand and worked it through his own hair. This time everyone gasped, Jeremiah loved his hair.

“Never have I ever thought I’d see that happen. Jere, you obsess over your hair, you love it!” Belly expressed through the phone, now Steven was leaning over her shoulder.

“Yo- you lot are brave!” he exclaimed with laughter; this was how he processed grief. He made jokes and laughed because otherwise it was much too bare, I didn’t blame him, in fact I found it comforting.

“I love my hair but you mean much more Y/n” Jere announced turning back to me and I couldn’t help but let the tears roll down my face now, pulling Jere to join the hug. He will be exactly the one for Belly, he’ll treat her well. I was sure of it.

Now it was my turn to sit on the edge of the tub, Susannah’s arm around me as we watched both her boys get their heads shaved by my mom.

“Well now we’re all gonna look like weirdos every time we leave the house,” I laughed looking at dad.

“And we’re gonna look like some cult parents who forced their kids to shave their heads,” he added back laughing

“I mean we could shave yours too David,” Susannah added, “Then we’ll confuse the narrative,”

“Only if your hair is next,” he challenged and I squeezed Suze’s hand, I would never let anyone come near her beautiful, golden hair.

“I think we’ve shaved enough heads for one day,” mom announces pulling the razor momentarily from Jere’s head, “Remember we have that dinner reservation in like two hours and I’d like to get changed from these sweats and t-shirt,” she goes back to Jere’s hair but before she’s able to make any progress she turns back around again, “Actually that’s a lie I could live in this outfit for the rest of my life I’m just not sure the people at the restaurant would appreciate it,” she says and every in the room laughs.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

The hospital room I’d been in for the past week and a half has become a familiar sight, considering that I’ve only left it to go to other similar looking rooms in the hospital. I look at the clock, its five in the afternoon, I must have fallen asleep again. The November chill was visible outside by the frost on the other side of the glass.

On the other side of the room behind the wall I hear mom talking to someone, dad has gone to work for the day, they’ve started switching days, so I can only guess it’s Susannah or the boys.

“It’s been getting worse,” her voice quivers and a part of me wishes I could mute her out, still be asleep. I know the truth, a part of me has known it since I found out the cancer came back those couple of weeks before we departed for Cousins that summer, I wasn’t going to get better.

“There must be something they can do,” another voice said, this time my body hauled me up a little. Conrad. I’ve been letting him visit me, he wanted to be here all the time but I asked Susannah to pace him. He was here this morning. It was meant to be one visit a day.

I know that makes me sound horrible, and it makes my own heart shatter piece by piece but it wasn’t because I didn’t love him or because I didn’t want him to be here. I knew there would be a time where he would have to move on, life would continue and he has such a bright future ahead of him, so many people to meet and experiences to be had. In my head if the distancing started now maybe it would be easier for him, even still the image of him with any other girl made me feel sick.

“Is she awake?” Is what I hear when I break out of thought.

“She wasn’t when I left to get changed and grab some food, but it’s been a couple of hours so she should be waking up soon if you want to go in,” mom said and I silently battled with the thought of pretending to still be asleep.

Before I had the time to make the choice the door was opening and then Conrad’s and my eyes met and he was coming to sit next to my bed, quickly pulling his hand into mine.

He bought a bag of games with him, we started with some card games, then snake and ladders, then four in a row and so on for a couple of hours. I was glad he came for the second time today.

“What?” He asked, I was staring at him but it wasn’t like he wasn’t staring back

“No nothing, just wondering how I managed to score such a hot boyfriend,” I say fanning myself with one hand, “And he’s a teddybear and sweetheart.” I added and watched him cringe at my words.

“I’m the one who should be asking how I managed to get a girlfriend as stunning and kindhearted as you,” he said but I just rolled my eyes. As much as we did this over the top thing as a joke we both knew we meant the words.

We talked and talked that night, he held my hand through it all. I didn’t realize how late it was but mom had come to sit in the corner of the room, she’d been having trouble sleeping recently but she’d managed to snooze off.

“I love you so much Connie, I’m thankful for you everyday, never ever change,” I whispered holding back a sob, he was half asleep on his chair next to my bed too.

“I love you too,” he said leaning up to kiss me gently. Then Connie and I whispered to each other until I too was fading away into sleep.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Conrad’s POV:

I never thought I’d be stood here, looking at all these people and her picture in front of a casket. I took that photo the day I asked her to be my girlfriend on Cousins beach, all her teeth were shining pearly white and her hair was blowing in the wind framing her face like a masterpiece statue or a goddess.

“I think you all know that Y/n meant more to me than anything and anyone in my life, alongside my family. We grew up with each other. We were there for each other in the good and bad times even before we were together romantically. She is- was- one of the most integral pieces of the puzzle of our lives. I think I can speak on behalf of our families,” I pause, tears rolling down my face, and a sob building up in my throat, “I don’t know how I will be able to go day by day without seeing her, hearing her voice and her passion. She inspired me more than anyone and I will love her until the day I die and even further into whatever comes after death, I will do everything in my power to make sure all her goals for the many charities and organizations are complete, I will build a new charity in her name, I will make sure she gets the remembrance she deserves, because- because more than anyone I know she deserved all happiness and love. She will be missed more than I could ever have the words to express” I finished and turned to the casket, “Please don’t leave me, come back to me,” I whispered.

There was more I wanted to say, I could speak about her for days and nights on end, about how wonderful and bubbly and kind she was and yet I couldn’t. These faces in the crowd, some knew her better than others but no one like our little families, Belly, Jere and Steven were all sat next to each other crying. Mom was holding her arms around Y/n’s mom and dad as they stared at me, thankful for my words.  

I broke into tears too, leaning onto the stand in front of me for support. Mom rushed towards me now, holding me close and helping me down to the seats. There I sat numb, tears flowing as the pastor finished the ceremony after which we all filed out and watched her get lowered into her grave. It read ‘Y/n L/n. Daughter, friend, love. An inspiration to all’

I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I was holding her hand the night she passed. Two weeks since I’ve lost my everything.

Masterlist

[emily-escott]

Jedi Master Thame Cerulian

I’ve been meaning to sit down and come up with a design for this guy for a while, and after starting and stopping a few times, we’re finally here. The other day I saw @revanisadumbass mention they headcanon Thame as being Jocasta’s master and that gave me the strength I needed to get back to this bc I’m sick of waiting for canon to catch up with my special interests and I’ve been headcanoning that for years lol.

Even though he started out as this mysterious guy we hear about but never meet in Jude Watson’s book, he ends up being kind of a dork in the Path of the Jedi tbh. I think he’s a perfect foil for Jocasta. Thame is a valuable resource— he’s a wealth of knowledge, he’s a highly accomplished historian, he’s a well respected scholar… but he’s also a little goofy. I think Jo having to dig through a bunch of dad jokes and puns to get to the information she needs would be very frustrating for her, and she may or may not end up learning to be more patient with him lol.

I ended up l o o s e l y basing his design off of Omar Sharif. He’s outgoing and confident, so I’m drawing him with sort of snazzy hair and fancy stache. But he’s also somewhat absentminded, so he’s got a curl out of place and 5 o’clock shadow. And for some reason, Corellian Jedi wear green robes, so that’s cool. He’s basically wearing what Corran Horn wears 🤷 anyway, that’s where this guy came from! I’ve tried really hard to get to know Thame better while drawing him over the past couple days, and I think I like him? He seems kind of fun and silly? I have to get going on Lene Kostana now 😵‍💫

[sillygoofyboii]

DAMN YOU TIMEZONES

REMINDER: BIRD LM DRIVING

(They squawk when they get roadrage)

YOURE WELCOME :3

dawg why do you outta remind me at bedtime-

(maybe ill do it tomorrow, but thanks for tge reminder ig :P)

[mikedfaist]

Riff just crashing at Readers place all the time.

Unannounced sleepovers.

Always climbs in through the window when he stops by, it’s also always late at night.

When readers mad at him and he comes to apologize he gets kicked out to the sofa. Otherwise he will carefully climb into bed, slip his arm under or around readers waist and kiss their shoulder. It’s the only time when his guard is fully down.

Sometimes he’s horne and will kiss reader awake.

“oh hun that’s creepy af but okay 🙂‍↕️😘”

THIS IS WHAT I’M SAYING

His love language is spontaneous visits. He’ll climb up your fire escape, and just pray the window is unlocked. (Sometimes, if you two have had an argument, he’s not surprised when the window doesn’t budge… but he will politely knock until you yell at him to leave).

The first time he stops by unannounced, is before he can even call you his, but he’s working on it. He was out walking the streets, having a smoke, and quite frankly, he missed you. Somehow, he stumbled down your road, definitely wasn’t planned. He can see from his spot on the sidewalk that your window is ajar, and your light it on.

It took him a week of begging for forgiveness from how badly he scared you. (In his defense, he at least knocked on your window, instead of climbing right in).

Now, they have a rule: window is locked, don’t bother me. Seldom is it locked.

A lot of the time when he comes by, he needs comfort, and maybe he doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s seeking. Maybe it’s after a brutal fight, a rumble. He just knows he needs you, even if you’re asleep beside him. He feels the most safe with you, but I don’t think he could ever openly admit that.

He’s gentle when crawling into bed – taking off his shoes and shirt, inching down onto the mattress as to not disturb you. Sometimes he’ll hold is breath as you begin to stir, but you quickly fall back into your deep sleep. He nestles close to your back – you’re primarily a side sleeper – burrowing his face into your hair. His arm drapes around your side, and he circles your stomach with his thumb. Nothing can hurt him here.

It's no longer a surprise when you wake up to your body passed out beside you. He’ll sometimes sleep until noon without the disturbances. You know he gets his best rest when he’s here with you.

Then there’s the nights when he comes over with that burning desire in his gut, and he really did try not to bother you – for a solid twenty minutes he walked up and down your street to try and get his mind clear, because he feels guilty waking you up when he has his needs, but the needs always win in the end.

He’ll begin kissing your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck, breathing deeply in your scent. His hand that’s resting on your stomach inches closer to your chest, cupping a breast and circling a nipple.

“What time is it?” Your voice is filled with sleep, barely above a whisper. You turn to face him, but can barely make him out in the darkness.

“One o’clock… couldn’t sleep.” He waits a beat before kissing your shoulder. “Just tell me to leave and I will.”

Of course, you don’t.

These kinds of fucks are slow, and gentle and you could have your back pressed up directly against his chest, and that wouldn’t be close enough for him. He somehow needs you more. He keeps his hand on your hip to control his pace; his thrusts are deep, and it’s embarrassingly fast how quickly he feels the need to let go, but he had been getting himself worked up for a half hour before he found himself on your bed.

He slows his pace, and then stops all together. He pulls himself out and turns you over onto your back, sidling in between your legs before pushing back in. You love to play with his hair when he’s on top, and he would be lying if he said he hated it. It makes him feel loved. He drops his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and biting and sucking and nibbling. Your moans flood his ears, and he moves to lift your leg up and over his hip, deepening his angle, just like you like it. He feels your walls tightening around him, your nails digging harder into his back.

“Fuck, don’t stop—don’t stop…”

“I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna cum—”

“Fuck, Riff… fuck me harder.”

He nearly collapses onto you, his arms forming a barrier around your head as his pace intensifies, and he feels you come beneath him. Your sounds alone could make him cum. Before you’ve even finished, he feels that knot finally come undone and he’s spilling into you, his moans engulfing the small space between you two.

“I love you,” he always says as he’s coming down from his high. He means it; it’s never something just said in the moment. Your fingers still entangled in his hair begin to massage his scalp, and he hums against your neck. He doesn’t make a move to pull out of you; quite frankly, he loves the warmness.

“I love you too.”

[strawberrysodaslut]

On the Road Again - Rockstar!Eddie Munson x GN!reader

tags/warnings: ~700 words // SFW, fluff, no use of Y/N, established relationship no descriptors for reader, sleep troubles, slight mentions of nausea and vomit as well as mentions of the standard toilet system in tour buses, in my writing world the bunks are big enough to fit you and eddie no matter what!

i wrote this for @corrodedcoffinfest’s writing event day 5 prompt as it has officially been the 5th of July for about 2 hours for me so.. yeah. I had fun writing this so i hope you enjoy!

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

You’d grown used to the quirks of the tour bus. It wasn’t easy at first. Eddie warned you about the difficulties when you first agreed to come with him on his band’s tour. Living on the road has its challenges, and the bus is as cheap as they could get it. But you’d survived 14 hour road trips, and this time you’d have the love of your life and, most importantly, a bed. How hard could it be?

It was fine, mostly. Although not ideal in the long run, relying on gas station snacks worked for now. The toilet had an odd design where you couldn’t flush toilet paper or any solid waste. Gareth proved this when he forgot and caused a lingering stench on the bus for 3 hours, but you could manage. What you weren’t prepared for was the disastrous effect it would have on your sleep.

At first Eddie; ever the man-child, called dibs on a top bunk. He assured you it would work fine, and while the bed had enough space, the swaying was so bad you almost vomited 3 times in two hours. Jeff only offered to trade after Eddie had convinced the group that the smell of vomit would be even worse than the Gareth incident.

Despite the warm welcome of your stomach settling once you were in the bottom bunk, you still struggled to get to sleep. It seemed every time you would drift off, the bus would make a sharp swerve, drive over what seemed to be the largest rock possible and crash back down, or enter complete road rage over another vehicle and blare the horn.

The next morning when you stopped at a gas station, the first thing you went for was earplugs.

It’s hard to say if the road conditions have gotten better the further on the tour you got, or if your body has gotten immune to disruptions. But, over time, it got easier to get a proper night’s rest.

Still, you dealt with the occasional jolt.

In all honesty, you hadn’t even realised you had fallen asleep. One minute you’re resting your head on Eddie’s lap, his fingers lazily stroking across your head, and the next you have the adrenaline of a caveman being hunted, shooting up into a sitting position and looking around for the source of your distress.

Your panic settles when you feel his warm hands on you. “Hey, hey.” He whispers, gently running his hands up and down your arms. “That was a big one, eh? It’s okay, come back to me, sweetheart.”

You angle your head to look at him. Judging by the deep croakiness of his voice and the light redness of his eyes, he must’ve fallen asleep as well. The constant shows taking a toll on him. He wears a bashful smile as he looks at you through his eyelashes.

Stretching your back, you let out a groan and look out the window, seeing the busy streets of the town where Eddie’s next gig was.

“Are we here already?You ask, looking back to see the other band members staring out the windows like you.

Jeff stifles a laugh. “Already? You slept for four hours.” He says, gingerly pointing to the clock above his head.

He was right. It was almost 4 o’clock, four hours was being charitable.

“Huh,” you say, turning to your boyfriend, who was rubbing his eyes in earnest. He scrunches his nose as rolls his shoulders back slightly. He has less freckles now that he’s not in the sun as often, his under eyes darkened to the point of needing to buy concealer for shows. Yet you still think he’s the most beautiful man in the world.

When he notices you staring at him, Eddie flashes you a smile before wrapping his arms around your waist to turn your back to him and pull you closer. “Guess you’re getting better at this sleeping thing than you thought, huh?” He says, tucking your head under his chin.

You look around at your friends, the energy and excitement of the upcoming show beaming from them and filling the bus, feeling the warmth of Eddie and even the rumble of the old, cheap bus, and you feel at home.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

eddie munson masterlist

comments + reblogs are always appreciated <3

[naturesapphic]

I need you

Olivia benson x fem!reader

(Warnings): hurt/comfort, mentions of murder, cussing, Olivia being a simp and a softie

“Benson.” Olivia rasped our tiredly and you smiled at the sound of her voice. “Hey liv.” You said and you heard her sigh “what’s wrong y/n?” Olivia questioned you and you knew something was wrong, you just didn’t know what. “Nothing. I’m just really hungry and was hoping on your way home you could get me a cheese burger with extra extra pickles?” You asked her and she sighed once again making you frown.

“Maybe I don’t know. I’m really busy right now hon. I’m having a tough case and we really need to catch this guy.” She said while you were trying to understand why she can’t be home right now. “Please come home liv…please I miss you so much.” You said getting choked up and she felt her heart break at the sound of your voice but she had to catch this guy.

“I’m sorry baby. I’ll check in on you later okay?” She said and you whimpered back in response and hung up causing Olivia to run her hands through her hair angrily and sigh loudly. She feels terrible. All you wanted was a cheese burger and your wife. She understood that but she needed this guy to be caught and out of the streets for everyone’s safety, especially yours.

~ a couple hours later ~

Olivia went by McDonald’s on her way home to get you your cheese burger. It was around 11 o’clock when she finally got off of work. Fin came into her office a few moments after the phone call she had with you and filled her in about how they caught the guy and he’s in the station being processed. She couldn’t be more happy and grateful that he was finally Caught. But it dawned on her how she treated you and she felt awful.

So, Before she went home with your bag of food, she decided to go to the store to get you some of your favorite flowers, chocolates, snacks, and candy. She feels awful and she wanted to make it up to you. She headed back to y’all’s house and opened the door with her keys. The jingling sound made you startled and you jumped up and got a knife from the kitchen. You slowly walked to the door and was about to attack when someone grabbed your arm and turned on the light. “Liv?! What the fuck! You scared the shit out of me!” You said breathlessly and handed her the knife. “Well at least you weren’t almost stabbed by your own wife.” She chuckled and you rolled your eyes at her with a small smile on your face.

“I thought you were supposed to call to check in on me? But seeing you is much better.” You mumbled out and she sighed. She took you into her arms carefully, trying not to hit your bump as she held you in her muscular arms. “Well…we caught the bastard and decided to get you “im sorry for being a jerk of a wife” gift.” You looked at her confused until she held up some bags filled with your favorite things and your cheese burger. You immediately snatched the McDonald’s bag from her and started eating it. “Thk y-u..” you mumbled out with your mouth filled with food. She chuckled and kissed your forehead softly. “Anytime sweetheart. Here, let’s have you sit and I’ll give you a foot massage as I tell you what happened.” She explained and you nodded. She guided you to the couch with your food in hand and she sat you down as she placed your feet in her lap. She started massaging your feet and you moaned loudly which caused her to smirk.

“Oh get that smirk off your face you horn dog.” You grumbled out and she laughed which made you smile. You continued eating as Olivia told you a brief summary about the case since she can’t share all of the details to you. She told you that this guy was killing pregnant women and how she wanted to catch this son of a bitch in case he went after you. Olivia wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you, she will protect you with her life. You finished your meal as she finished her story and you gave her a soft smile. “I wish you would have told me…I honestly thought you were being distant with me…” you confessed to her and she gave you a sad look. “No sweetheart…im so sorry that I made you feel like that…I just really wanted to catch this bastard and I wanted him off the streets as soon as possible.” She explained to you and you leaned up to her and kissed her softly on her lips.

She kissed you back gently and held your face in her hands. The both of you pulled back and gave each other big smiles. “So…what else did you get me to eat.” You smirked and she laughed. “I got you your favorite chocolates, snacks, and candy.” She replied and you gasped excitedly making grabby hands at the bags on the floor near Olivia. She chuckled as she handed you the bags and you stared munching on them while Olivia watched you with a adoring look on her face. “Do you forgive me babygirl?” She asked you and you smiled at her. “Of course I do silly. I couldn’t stay mad at you. You were just doing your job I know that. I was just a little insecure I guess.” You said and she gave your forehead another kiss “I understand baby…but just know that I don’t distance myself from you on purpose. I just get so caught up in my work that sometimes Im distant. But just know that I love you so much darling.” She explained to you and you gave her a loving smile.

“I love you most liv.” “And I love you too little bean-son.” She joked and you giggled at the nickname she kept calling y’all’s unborn child. You felt the baby kick in response and you quickly laid Olivia’s hand on your bump and the baby kicked again which made Olivia break out a huge smile. She leaned down and gave your bump a gentle kiss. Olivia started talking to the baby as you ran your fingers through her short hair and she kept giving your stomach loving kisses.

A/n: my first Olivia benson imagine! I hope y’all enjoy and know that winter/Christmas requests are open for all the people that I write! Remember to stay hydrated and rest! I love y’all! :)

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Wintering | Yuletide🌟

Tom Bennett x fem!Reader

Summary: The war is over and Tom Bennett returns home, seeking comfort in a friend from his past.

Content Warnings: Drabble, Language, Smut (p in v, oral!f receiving).

Yuletide Masterlist

Wintering, verb. To hide, hibernate, seek comfort or rest, especially after turbulent times (in humans).

“Fuck,”

Your back was beginning to ache. You hadn’t given a moment’s thought as to where you were when you’d burst through the door. Just being at home, away from prying eyes, was enough. Now, the dado rail was bruising the base of your spine with every harsh thrust.

“Fuck,” he hissed again in your ear, immediately silencing himself by covering your mouth with his own. The warmth, the wetness, was delicious.

“Tom, please,” you whined into his mouth. Even through the dull pain in your back, your legs hooked around his waist ever tighter. At your plea he looked down at you, his hips still rolling lazily. When he saw the scrunch of your eyebrows, the sheen of sweat above them, and the way your lower lip pillowed as you bit down on it, Tom Bennett grinned.

He continued grinning as his hips began pistoning at an unholy pace into your wet heat. That wolfish smile was the last thing you saw as your eyes finally closed, too overwhelmed by pleasure to stay open, as you threw your head back against the wall. Bastard. He knew he was good.

You’d heard at the dancehall last night that the final battleship into port, the HMS Valiant, was due to arrive the following day at around 3 o’clock. You also knew, from working with Lois on the ambulances, that this was Tom’s ship. When Mrs Beatty and a few other ladies from your mother’s Women's Institute suggested meeting the last of the lads to come home at the dock, the idea spread through your Manchester suburb like wildfire.

No sooner had your mother come home with the news were you being bustled onto the number 54 bus with a hamper laden with fresh clothes, bottles of beer, spam sandwiches and the little change that each family could spare. Old men, and women of all ages, piled into the buses and made their way to the docks. A few families still had bunting from the King’s jubilee and strung it from dockyard cranes.

The furore was extraordinary. The battleship was already looming large on the horizon when you all emptied from the bus, and young and old cheered themselves hoarse until the ship made its way into port. Sailors, forgetting regulations, leant over the ships’ railings and waved to family and friends. When the battleship finally docked, it let out a long blast of its horn and the crowed roared with glee. Mothers and sweethearts were already crying when the gangway was let down, and you saw that even some fathers were wiping their eyes.

You watched with relief as faces you recognised filed off the boat. Mr Martin’s only surviving son, thirty-eight and with three children who each ran into his arms. Frank Smith, the school bully’s rat-faced sidekick. The lad that worked at the corner shop, nineteen now, having received his papers the day he turned eighteen. Each was greeted by their family members and someone with a ‘welcome home’ hamper.

All, except one. Tom Bennett, one of the tallest lads on the boat, walked down the gangway in a few elegant strides and stopped on the dock with a sigh as he hitched his kitbag over his shoulder. He lifted his eyes to the sky, the October afternoon already darkening to a mournful blue.

As with the rest of the young men, the war had not been kind to him. Shadows haunted his slim face, prematurely aged from the horrors of a war none of them should have fought. At home, he was the stuff of legend. Survived the battle of River Plate, Dunkirk and went on the run in Europe, only to be sent back to war the moment he returned. More lives than the luckiest of cats, your mother said. The worst, of course, was the loss of his father and his home. The grief hit the Bennett children hard. Tom Bennett jumped onto the first battleship in dock, and Lois left baby Vera in England to go nursing in Africa. Now, Tom Bennett stood on the dock with no-one to welcome him home after six long years.

You hurried forward.

“Tom-” As though he knew you were there before you even spoke, he looked down from the sky to your flushed face.

Though he said your name quietly, a smile flashed across his boyish face. Your stomach somersaulted. He’d always been the handsomest rogue in Longsight, and still was with his blue eyes and sandy hair. At least there was one thing the war hadn’t taken away from him.

You held out the hamper. “Welcome home, Tom,” and with a sincere smile you stood on tiptoe to kiss his sallow cheek. A faint lipstick smudge lingered there and you smiled all the more.

“I’d be flattered,” Tom teased, gesturing to the hamper. “If every other Tom, Dick and Harry didn’t have one too.” He laughed as he took the hamper from you. His large palm covered your own and you shivered.

There was history there. Only a few pages, but history nonetheless. At once, you were transported back to the parish dance of 1935. Both seventeen, you as green as the grass, he already-world weary and wandering. He danced with no-one the entire night, though many a girl looked hopeful, yet took your hand for the last dance. When you thought about those innocent years before the war, in the darkest hours of the night or after a few too many sherries, you swore you could feel Tom’s hands burning against your waist, and at your neck as he kissed you. Your first.

Tom too, was remembering the first moment you touched him. A maths lesson with Miss Greene. He’d been caught flicking pencil sharpenings into girls’ hair and was sent to sit in the corner at the back of the class. You, as much a sweetheart then as you were now, were tasked with handing out textbooks. Unfortunately for you and luckily for Tom, they were on the shelf above where he sat. A cocky grin on his face, Tom didn’t move. He loved winding the girls up, and you were something different. At sixteen, you were curvier than the rest, and watching you flush pink was his favourite hobby. And so, he didn’t move. With pride, he chortled as you blushed and reached for the textbooks above him. His smug smile faltered however when, in order to reach the books, your legs came to rest on each side of his spread ones. With one of your thighs either side of his, he swallowed. He could feel the heat coming from the apex between them, smell your perfume and feel the way the soft flesh pressed against his. When you finally retrieved the books, it was your turn to smirk at the red flush peppering his cheekbones.

“Where are you staying, Tom, now you're back?” You asked, voice low. Your mother was not far away.

“Bench in the pub, presumably. Most of the lads are heading that way for a party. Then I’ll find meself lodgings above some dodgy back-alley business.” He huffed a humourless laugh. You looked him directly in the eye.

“Stay out ours tonight.”

Tom leant close to you, wetting his lips. “What would mother say?”

“Don’t know, she’ll be down pub with the rest of them. Loves a sherry and a sailor.”

Half an hour later, you were pressed against the wall of your mother’s hallway, Tom Bennett lapping hungrily at your slick centre. Beneath your skirt and petticoat, the lewd sounds of his tongue against your wet sex filled the quiet evening.

Now, buried to the hilt within you, his swollen head bullying your core, Tom forgot the last seven months he’d spent living on the Valiant. Forgot the suffering of the last six years entirely. For between the softness of your thighs, the scent of your neck as he tucked his face against it tenderly, he’d found, if for a moment, the thing he’d been fighting for. Warmth, kindness, rest­. A place to winter.

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

[bullet-prooflove]

The Wrong One: Dean Archer x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @chicagotrio101 @mysticcandymiracle @sweetdaytimedreams

Companion piece to The Study:

Part One: Courting Disaster - Dean realises Jack is courting you.

Part Two: Distance - Dean tries to discuss the distance between the two of you.

Part Three: Deserving - Jack tries to show you, you deserve better.

Part Four: Navy Shirt - You and Dean don't keep secrets.

Part Five: A Punch In The Face - Dean reacts badly to the news about Jack Dayton.

Part Six: Blow After Blow - Dean doesn't know how much more you can take

Part Seven: Cutting - Dean's surprised when Jack Dayton turns up on his doorstep.

You won’t speak to Dean, you can’t even look him. The silence hangs in the air as you stare out of the passenger window. Dean tries to ignore it, focusing his attention on the road instead but already he can feel the distance between the two of you growing the longer he doesn’t address the elephant in the car.   

“I can’t do it.” He says finally, his gaze on the light as it turns to red. “I can’t take Sean’s kidney.”

Out the corner of his eye he sees your hands clench into tiny fists, the fabric of your dress bunching between them, creasing it.

“You made that very clear at dinner.” You say in tone that’s so devoid of emotion it makes his eyes sting.

It had been a shock for the both of you to discover that Sean’s awareness of Dean’s condition. You had no idea that Jack Dayton had gone behind your back and informed  Sean that his father needed a transplant. Where you had felt hope at Sean’s offer, Dean could only feel this immense sense of guilt. He’s just started to repair the relationship between them, and this, this is far too much to ask.

“You don’t understand…” He tries to explain. “He’s just getting back on his feet, he doesn’t need this burden…”

His main concern is that the transplant will set Sean back in his recovery, that his son won’t be prepared for the physical, psychological or emotional ramifications of undertaking something this serious. He doesn’t want to be the reason his son’s life falls apart all over again.

“He wants to help.” You remind him forcefully, your knuckles turning white.

“Isobel…” He says softly. “I can’t let him do this, not after everything that’s happened between the two of us, he deserves more from me than that.”

You don’t understand what it’s like to fail someone the way that he failed Sean. He gave up on his son, abandoned him when he needed him the most.  He doesn’t get to come back after fifteen years apart and ask for something that has the potential to derail his whole life again. He will not do that.

“And I don’t?” You snap and he can hear the frustration in your voice as you look at him with glossy eyes. “I don’t deserve more time with my husband? Sean doesn’t deserve more time with this father? You just make a decision and we’re both supposed to fall in line and accept it?”

“Yes.” He says tersely, staring straight ahead at the traffic light. “Because it is my body and my choice.”

“Right.” You say unfastening your seatbelt. “Well you can take your choice and shove it up your…”

He doesn’t get to hear the rest of it because you’re already shoving the car door open and stepping out into the night. The light in front of him switches to amber as he calls out your name but you’re already slamming the car door in his face.

He panics then because the last thing he wants is you wandering the streets of Chicago at eleven o’clock at night. A car horn sounds from behind him because the light has turned green and he pulls over into a side street before he launches himself out of the car and around the corner to follow of you. His heart pounds because there’s no sign of you in the pavement or anywhere else.

He spends the next hour driving around trying to find you before he heads back home, hoping you’ve cooled down. You aren’t in the apartment, the lights are still off. He checks his phone and there’s no calls or messages. To say he’s getting worried is an understatement. He tries calling again but it goes straight to voicemail. Vaguely he wonders if this is your way of teaching him a lesson but he knows you’re not like that, you don’t play games, you aren’t spiteful the way Leann was.

This tonight, it comes from a place of hurt, from desperation because your husband he’s dying and he isn’t doing a damn thing to save himself. He hasn’t been thinking really about the effect this all has on you. He’s been too busy trying to manage his life now that he’s on dialysis. The medication, the appointments, the dietary requirements, all of it is exhausting and you’ve been there every step of the way, smoothing over his rough edges, finding ways to make his life easier. He can’t imagine the emotional toll that must take on a person, how hopeless you must have felt when he refused Sean’s kidney.

It’s an hour later he gets the text telling him that you’re safe and you’re not coming home tonight. It feels like someone’s plunged a scalpel into his chest and cut out his heart because Dean can’t remember the last time the two of you spent the night apart.

When he goes to bed, he lies awake staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the dialysis machine as it withdraws the toxins from his kidneys. Usually on the evenings he has to use the machine, you curl up against him, with your head on his chest telling him stories about your day. He falls asleep listening to the sound of your voice.

I don’t deserve more time with my husband? Sean doesn’t deserve more time with this father?

Your words come back to haunt him as his palm comes to rest in the vacant space beside him because that’s all he wants, more time with you, more time with Sean. He can already feel it running out, ebbing away from him every day.

It’s my body and my choice, he had told you.

It’s only now as he lies there alone that Dean realises maybe he’s making the wrong one.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[mas-o-kissed]

(FROM THE IMPCO ARCHIVES, IT’S PART 1 OF AN EPISODE OF BRAINDRAIN.

CW: hypnotic intox, dubcon hypno, public humiliation, kidnapping)

It’s the middle of the night, and your television flickers. There’s a static haze, a soft droning. As the picture comes into focus, a jaunty, old fashioned tune plays over the title card:

BRAINDRAIN

with Imp

Camera slowly zooms in on a small, effeminate man, grinning at the camera. A lower third tells you that his name is Imp. The image is hazy, as if it’s an old broadcast, but you could swear he has horns and a devil’s tail. Are those fangs? What is this show?

“Good evening, Impsomniacs! It’s 3 o’clock, and you know what that means. It’s time for your favorite game show: BRAINDRAIN.”

The camera follows as Imp walks across the set.

“Now, I’ve been hosting this show for many years. It’s been so long, we don’t even remember that far back! The before times, the long long ago, it all fades into nothing, like a dark void at the center of my mind, and no matter how hard I try to remember, it’s like we’re filled with this emptiness. It’s frightening, but it’s exciting at the same time. Like, what even is hiding in that dark space? Is it better if we never find out? This guy knows what I’m talking about!”

Imp points lightheartedly at an audience member, who appears to be asleep. AUDIENCE LAUGHS.

“HA! Haha. Yes.” (Stage whisper, into his headset) “Get that guy out of here. He’s too far gone to laugh at any of my jokes.”

The audience member is swiftly carted away.

“We have a very special player on our show tonight. You might recognize him from such places as snooping around Impco at 6am, or the holding room where we keep all of our prisoner— I mean contestants.”

Curtains move aside to reveal a man chained to a podium by his neck and hands. There is a gag in his mouth. He struggles against the binding. The messy scrawl on his name card says: “POSTMAN (ALLEGEDLY)”

“Usually I’m not up so early in the morning, but today I was woken up by a terrible horn-ache, and that’s when I found contestant number one poking around the facility. What do you have to say for yourself, contestant?”

Imp removes the gag from the man’s mouth.

“I was delivering a package, you lunatic!”

“Oh? Really? And what was in this package?”

“That tie! You’re wearing it right now!”

Imp looks down at the tie around his neck.

“HA! Hahaha! Oh darling, I sure wish I believed you. But you see, we’ve already downloaded dozens of fun triggers directly into your brain. It would be such a shame to waste them. Not only that, but our audience is just aching to see what’s going to happen to you. They’re ravenous. Like dogs. Isn’t that right, folks?”

APPLAUSE AND BARKING.

The man continues to struggle.

“Now, I think we all know the rules by now, but because I’m so nice, I’ll explain how the game is played.

I spin the wheel of post-hypnotic suggestions (we’re still coming up with a snappier name for it).

Whatever it lands on is the trigger I’ll use before I ask you a question.

Will you have to answer a complicated math problem after having your IQ reduced by 30 points? Will I make you into my puppet and then ask you to grab something just out of reach? Will it be a mysterious third thing?

You don’t know! And neither do I! That’s what makes the game so fun. Are you ready to play, Luke?”

“Let me go! M-my name’s not even Luke. It’s Daniel.”

“GREAT! Time to spin the wheel of post-hypnotic suggestions. Ooooooh!”

Imp spins the large, multicolored wheel. In each color is a different image, indicating a different trigger. As the wheel spins, Imp’s eyelids start fluttering. He watches it, half-lidded, a blank look on his face. The wheel has stopped spinning. Five seconds pass. An Imptern in a black t-shirt and headset rushes onto the stage. She snaps her fingers in front of Imp’s face.

“Bwuh.. wha..?”

She hurriedly whispers, “Sir, you know you’re not supposed to look directly at the wheel.”

“It’s my show. I can look wherever I want.”

“You were just zoning out, again!”

“You know I can’t be effected by hypnosis, doll. Now, get off the stage, I’m trying to do a show.”

She rushes off. TEPID AUDIENCE LAUGHTER. Imp gestures to the wheel, which has landed on a drawing of a bottle.

“Oh, a classic! Are you ready for the trigger, darling?”

“P-please don’t, I-I…”

“Hmm, stuttering and slurring like that. Oh dear… How much have you had to drink?”

The contestant’s eyelids flutter. He looks confused. His cheeks flush.

“Whas… happening?”

“You heard me. How much have you had to drink?”

“I’ve haven’t had… anything. I… I feel…”

The contestant giggles, clearly drunk. AUDIENCE LAUGHS.

“Uh oh, I think he’s had a bit too much.”

“I don… nunderstand. I didn’t think it wass real but I ffeel…”

“Didn’t think what was real? Hypnosis? Brainwashing? If that was true, we’d all be out of the job! HA! Ohh, you poor thing, you look like you’re going to be sick. Are you ready for your test, darling?”

“Fffuck.”

“No swearing dear, we’re on LIVE TV! Considering your pitiful state, I’ll keep it simple. Your question is: If one doctor doctors another doctor, does the doctor who doctors the doctor doctor the doctor the way the doctor he is doctoring doctors? Or does he doctor the doctor the way the doctor who doctors doctors?

“I… wh… what?”

“I’m sorry, that’s wrong. I don’t know what the answer is, but I know that that’s definitely not it.”

“Youu asked me a trick queshtion! Ompurpose! How’m I supposed to answer something like… that…? Shit… the room wontstop spinn..ninng…”

“Easy there, tiger. It’s time for a quick commercial break, but don’t you fret. We’ll be back to seal our dear contestant’s fate after this! (BUY IMPCO PRODUCTS!)”

There’s a commercial for Impco brand hypno-goggles. You’re not sure what hypno-goggles are, or what you’re even watching. But that Imp seems so nice. And he said to buy Impco products. So maybe you should…

(Decided to break this up with the commercials since it’s long but part 2 is coming soon! When I post it I will link it here.)

[liaromancewriter]

Trick or Treat

Premise: Who says Halloween traditions are only for children?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 960

A/N: Thanks to @jerzwriter for this prompt. Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge and @choicesprompts prompt "Laughter"

“What do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating?!”

Of all the words Ethan Ramsey had expected to hear coming out of his girlfriend’s lips, he could safely say these were not it.

Cassie “I’ve done everything” Valentine took great pride in throwing herself into experiences, and reminding him of it. So her casually dropping this little factoid made him turn his head and stare as if she’d grown horns.

“Looks like I’ve finally shocked you speechless.”

She smiled, no doubt amused at his reaction, before turning back to admire the trick-or-treaters costumes and hand them candy.

They were in Edenbrook’s pediatric ward for an impromptu Halloween celebration. The nursing staff and some of the interns and residents had quickly put together costumes for the children, while the Facilities team had hung even more Halloween decorations around the nurses’ station and brightly-colored hallways.

Naveen was entertaining kids down the hall, looking debonair in his Count Dracula costume (the Sesame Street one, not Bram Stoker’s, he’d told them earlier). Nearby, Ethan recognized Tanaka in full surgical garb, complete with a plastic scalpel and a mask with sharp teeth drawn in black marker.

This wasn’t Ethan’s usual scene. Unless he had a pediatric patient, he saw no reason to come down here. Besides, he had several cases waiting on his desk that required attention. But he’d agreed to accompany Cassie after she promised to make it worth his while.

Halloween sex was a tradition he could get behind, he smirked, side-eyeing Cassie’s décolletage.

“Not speechless, but certainly surprised,” he countered once they were alone. “By all accounts, you seem to have had a normal childhood. I can’t see your parents not letting you and your brother go trick-or-treating.”

Cassie snorted. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that we traveled all over for my dad’s work.”

“Sure, but I assumed that was during vacations and holidays—” Ethan stopped when Cassie shook her head.

“We lived in hotels and corporate housing, Ethan,” Cassie said, pausing to exclaim over a fairy costume before continuing. “From the time I was seven. Six months here, a year there. It was fun, but not exactly conducive to trick-or-treating or other childhood staples.”

“What about before?”

“My mom might have taken us when we were younger,” Cassie conceded, “but I don’t really remember it. I do remember that Max and I both had chicken pox when we were five, so we couldn’t go with our friends that year. Then, the next year, we were at my great-grandfather’s funeral.” She nibbled her lip thoughtfully. “Or maybe I’m mixing them up. Either way, that’s why.”

Ethan glanced around shiftily and spoke out of the side of his mouth. “If you want to go put on a costume and blend in with the trick-or-treaters, I can look the other way.”

Cassie burst into laughter. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

Before Ethan could respond, his pager shrilled.

“Duty calls,” he sighed, glancing at the code. “I’ll see you later.”

As he walked away, Ethan wondered why it bothered him that Cassie had never gone trick-or-treating. As a kid, he had loved roaming the neighborhood with his gang of friends and admiring their candy haul in a makeshift clubhouse in the backyard. Despite everything that happened after, his memories from before were golden.

An idea began to formulate in his head, and he reached for his phone.

Ethan adjusted the cape he’d found at the back of his closet, a holdover from his wild college days, and checked his reflection in the front hall mirror. The tux and cape weren’t much of a costume, but he hadn’t had time—or the inclination—to bother with more.

It was almost eight o’clock and Cassie had texted to say she was five minutes out. He padded into the kitchen and poured the bite-sized candy bars he’d picked up on the way home into a plastic bowl.

Taking a step back, he took a hard look at his handiwork wondered if he’d lost his mind. Cassie was a well-adjusted grown woman and didn’t need him to recreate childhood traditions she wasn’t pining for. Handing someone a bowl of candy wasn’t trick-or-treating.

Before he could empty the bowl and hide the candy, he heard the jingle of a key in the lock, and the front door swung open.

“Honey, I’m home,” Cassie called in a sing-song voice, stepping into his line of vision. “It’s so cold out tonight.” She unwound her scarf as she marched into the kitchen. “Coffee, stat!”

She leaned in to press her cold lips against his but paused, her gaze fixed on his ‘costume’ and the candy bowl.

“What’s all this?”

Ethan turned red and quickly shoved the bowl away. “It’s nothing. Forget you saw anything.”

“There’s candy in the bowl and you’re wearing a cape,” Cassie said in a slightly exasperated tone. “Do you seriously expect me to not ask questions?”

“I had this idea,” he said, his gaze drifting to a spot above her shoulder. “It’s stupid, and I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Fine, but can I at least get a treat? Or do I need to perform a trick first?” Cassie joked, guessing correctly what had been in his mind.

“Help yourself,” he said, pushing the bowl towards her. “I’ll get the coffee started.”

“Want to see a trick anyway?” She wrapped her arms around his hips, locking him in place before he could make his escape. “I bet I can get you naked in ten seconds flat.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Make it five, and you win a special prize.”

“I’ve always loved a challenge.” She laughed and slid her hands into the back of his pants, giving his butt a playful pat. “Prepare to be amazed!”

-------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash

@lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[crystal-infusions]

The Library

((closed rp for @second-wife-playbook))

Two weeks passed since Coronis's last visit .

Cassandra moved swiftly between tables, her wings tucked neatly behind her and her dark horns catching the soft glow of the afternoon light filtering through the windows. The tea room was packed with patrons, each one seeking a moment of peace amidst what must have been a stressful day in Pride.

She smiled warmly as she served another table, setting down a fresh pot of herbal tea infused with calming crystals. Five o’clock already, and there was no sign of the rush slowing down. She could feel the tension in the air—most of her customers looked worn out, drained from whatever trials they had faced today.

Taking a deep breath, she caught a moment between orders to refill the stock of tea blends behind the counter. She could feel the subtle pull of the energy in the room, her senses attuned to the emotions swirling around her. It was days like these that reminded her why she had opened this tea shop in the first place.

Despite the mounting exhaustion, Cassandra found herself smiling softly. She might be tired, but knowing she was offering these patrons a little slice of calm amidst their chaos made it all worth it.

[rom-e-o]

Just for us. (Modern AU) (Constance and Ebenezer)

I'm feeling rested and wanted to bring another fluffy, slightly spicy, saccharine sweet story for these two cute-patooties. 💗 

This fic is 18+ and includes sexual, post-coital scenarios and descriptions (nothing is explicit, but better safe than sorry, haha).

Full fic is below the cut.

The distant honking of a car horn was not the best way to awaken from an otherwise peaceful slumber, but it was Constance’s fault for falling asleep with the bedroom window ajar.

Hours before, she’d opened the window to enjoy the evening’s spring breeze. After all, she and her husband had just emerged from a fête held by the Lord Mayor himself. While it had been a beautiful event, it had felt like a crime to spend the golden midday inside. She had basked in the sun during the brief walk to the private car, and again when they returned to the flat and she entered the bedroom.

It was spring – a magical time of year where the skies stayed light blue even late into the evenings, and clouds rolled over from angelic white to a deep mauve. When the sun set at the perfect angle, the light dappled across the airy shapes in kisses and crescents as pink in color as strawberry cream.

The air wasn’t as sweet-smelling in London as it was in the upstate New York countryside – where honeysuckle grew unhindered, and the humidity thickened the nectar-tinted air into honey – but it was enough. She’d opened the shades and leaned into the light, still in her glittering gown and diamond choker.

Moments later, her husband had followed her. He slowly walked up behind her, giving her time to notice his presence before he reached out to hold her. Once his arms were about her svelte waist, he proceeded to place kisses upon her bare shoulder as they looked over the sunset.

He then hummed against her skin, the burr sending a ripple of gooseflesh across her tanned, freckled body.

“Gorgeous,” he had whispered, both in regarding to the view and the woman resting betwixt his arms. “Bloody gorgeous, you are.”

He nosed her neck, encouraging her to tilt her head back. She did so, and he inhaled a heavy lungful of her tangerine and vanilla perfume like it was pure oxygen. After doing so, he kissed the velvety skin, and Constance practically melted.

Moments later, his kisses upon her neck traversed a path from her sun-warmed shoulders. He noticed she had a bit of a sunburn on the protruding edges of her clavicle, right where the sun could caress the skin directly. He didn’t touch the skin as to not irritate it further, but made a mental note to apply some aloe there later.

After giving the flesh there bouts of proper worship, he moved to her lips. When their mouths met, it was his turn to whisper praise. His soulful voice created the most stunning moans when their mouths and bodies met, which she eagerly swallowed and returned with her own expressions of heady praise.

His hands remained wrapped around her waist, nestled around the narrowest part of her, even as she turned in his arms to help deepen their kiss.

After returning his enthusiasm and adoration tenfold with her hips and hands, he lifted her and carried her to the canopied, four-post bed behind them. It was a short journey, but that didn’t mean it didn’t require ceremony. For him, every moment with her called for cheers and celebration, as well as a flair of romanticism. If his former self could only see him now, he’d be disgusted … then secretly jealous.

With a twirl and a laugh, she landed on her back … and stayed in exactly that position through the rest of the evening.

Then, later that night, the spell was broken by a car alarm.

Groggy from the interruption, Constance glanced up and over to the antique clock her fiancé kept on his bedside table. The hands reflected a somber reality in their crooked placement; it was five past three o’clock in the morning.

The alarm was distant, but persistent enough to be annoying.

Did she really need to shut the window? Perhaps she could ignore it.

… It was quite persistent, unfortunately. It wasn’t one of those steady alarm tones that eventually blended out with the other ambient noise, like the hum of cicadas. No. This alarm had a rhythmic, pulsing tone that made it impossible to get used to.

She’d get it in a moment, she decided. Just ten more seconds, she concluded. She was so warm and comfortable.

After hitting the metaphorical ‘snooze’ button for the decision at hand, she allowed her head to drift back down toward the bed. Her copper curls cascaded down her back and curled into her peripheral vision in the form of lightly tousled spirals.  

When she felt her cheek collide with cologne-scented flesh instead of bedsheets, she paused. With a hum, she lifted her head again and directed her gaze to the top of the bed.

She found herself laying atop her husband, her cheek pressed to his chest and her bosom weighty against his abdomen. Her arms had found purchase wrapped around his torso. His legs caged her on either side. His spent cock nudged the softness of her bare stomach. His hand, large and lightly calloused, rested upon her upper back, his long fingers splayed across the planed of her shoulder blades. The placement was equal parts tender and protective, as he held her tightly enough to keep her close, but not secure enough to keep her captive.

He stirred sleepily as he felt her move. Blinking awake, he slowly lifted his head and glanced around. Reality slowly coalesced around him in blurring flashes of lightly and shifting shapes of shadows.

Upon laying eyes on her, a grin caressed his cheekbones. Somehow, his jaw remained sharp, even when his brow and the wrinkles around his eyes softened during slumber.

“Well, well. Good morning.”

His grip tightened around her, and he let out a pleasant hum. “And what a lovely sight to awaken to, I’d say. I could get quite used to this.”

His voice was still groggy from sleep, and his adorable smile caused a matching one to bloom upon her own face. By reflex alone, she reached a hand up to caress his cheek. He tilted his head to burrow against her hand, his sideburn scrubbing her palm as he did so. She giggled, slightly ticklish and enjoying the sensation all the same, stroked his cheekbone with the tip of her thumb.

“Good morning,” she whispered back, “Albeit barely.”

His confusion was belated as he registered the darkness of the room. His icy gaze darted to the window, noting the blue-pink swirl of the pre-dawn sky. Then, and only then, did the sound of the alarm seem to register.

With the next strident blare, understanding touched his gaze. “Ah.”

“Ah.” Constance chuckled as she parroted him. Crawling up hand over hand, she aligned their bodies so they could be eye-to-eye.

He scooted over to make room for her on the large pillow he relined against.

“One of the cons of living in a city, I suppose,” he said, rolling over onto his side to better face her. “Noise. People. Cars. The tube.”

As soon as she laid her head down, she turned her nose toward the fabric and inhaled the scent of cologne, musk, and him. “Mmhmm.”

“Though, I suppose you’re used to it, living in New York before London.”

“A little bit,” she said, shrugging guiltily. “I’ll confess, the sound woke me up a few moments ago, but I’m finding it a tad hard to get out of bed.”

He laughed and placed a kiss atop her crown, between the part on her slightly waved bangs. “Understandable. I’m certainly in no hurry for you to go anywhere either.”

“Here, let me…”

As Constance rose from the bed, beautifully nude before the window, Ebenezer was quick to wrap and arm about her waist and pull her back. She giggled as she felt him tuck her back in so he could sit up and reach for his dressing gown, which had been discarded nearby.

“We’re quite high up,” she said, “Nobody would see, sweetheart.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but just in case.”

The woman wasn’t going to opt out of any reason to stay in bed. The comfortable position was made all the better by the pleasant view she had of his wide back, long legs and adorable bum as he pulled on his robe. Such a simple task still caused his back muscles to ripple pleasantly, even concealed beneath the shimmering brocade of silk. Her fingers tightened their grip on the sheets slightly as she recounted every moment his fingers had skimmed the planes of his back, sometimes to hug him close, and other times to hold on when he felt like the sturdiest rock in the universe.

Once the robe was fastened about his svelte waist, he stood and went to the window. Pulling it shut and latching it back into place, he then backtracked to the bed. While doing so, he undid the ties on the bedpost in the upper right corner of the bed, which was nestled right near the headboard.

The velvet bed curtain fell back with a swoosh, casting a long shadow across the bed. She felt the weight of her fiancée tip the mattress as he climbed back onto the mattress. While he had opted to leave his robe on, Constance still ushered him back under the covers to cuddle. He, of course, obliged happily.

Once they settled, her head resting over his chest and their legs in a tangle, he let out a content sigh.

Darkness shrouded them in intimate secrecy, and a soft silence hummed through the room.

Constance purred her appreciation. “Thank you. That’s so much better.”

He couldn’t help but agree. It was better, but not just because the sound of the alarm had ceased.

“You know, it’s a pity it’s so early,” he croaked, a yawn nearly cutting his sentence off early.

“Why?”

“I’d like to stay awake a little longer. Enjoy this.”

She tilted her head back so she could lay her chin on his chest and stare up at him. Her cornflower blue eyes coaxing further explanation from him.

“Not that I mind showing the world that I’m engaged to a human Aphrodite,” he started, his voice shifting to a pleasant burr, “But this ... moments like this are what I treasure most.”

Ebenezer was a man who had spent many decades of his life alone and in complete solace. He’d grown used to not having another soul to whisper platitudes to or confide secrets in. When amazing news crossed his desk, there was nobody to call to share it with. His brother, of course, but he had his own life.

Now, Constance was part of his life, just as she was part of his.

“It’s just us here,” he whispered. “It … calms me. I never thought I’d feel so comfortable being so close to another person, but now that you’re here, I-I … love being with you. I like sharing moments with only you and keeping little moments like this to ourselves. Like little secrets.”

The words softened her already tender heart further.

 “Perhaps that sounds childish.” The admission came after a beat of silence.

“No,” she said, and the comment was genuine. “I understand what you mean. At least, I think I do.”

“Really?”

With a nod, she continued, “It’s like we’re sharing little love notes. When we’re declaring our love publicly by getting married and wearing rings, and doing the grand photoshoot for the local newsmagazines –”

“Oh, blast, I forgot about that.”

“—but those little gestures are nice to keep private. Just for us.”

He paused to taste the words on his tongue. “Just for us. Yes. Like feeling you under these blankets.” Scars, stubble and all.

“Or knowing all your favorite foods and sweets by heart.” Cognac, oysters, and sturgeon caviar.

“Or knowing the places where you’re secretly sunburnt.” Shoulders, and right above your bum.

“You saw?”

“Of course.”

After momentary shock, she laughed musically. “You always do.”

“Always.” The words settled comfortably over his heart as she laid her head down again on his chest. “Hey.”

She glanced up again, only for him to bring their lips together in a surprising kiss. It was dark, so his lips grazed the corner of her mouth at first, which resulted in a soft giggle. They swiftly corrected, aligning their lips and sharing a lingering but chaste kiss.

When they parted, Ebenezer raised a hand to her chest.

There, squarely over her heart, he wrote, “I love you.”

Another secret love note.

Realizing they’d be working themselves into an early morning sweat if they kept kissing, they mutually relented and sank back onto the mattress. After the exhaustion of the evening prior, sleep returned to the pair quite easily.

When the morning did come, Ebenezer stole out of bed at the first opportunity to head into the flat’s large kitchen. Once there, he filled a MacKenzie-Childs kettle (green with a purple and red floral pattern) and put it on heat. Then, he set their coffee pot to start brewing a fresh pot. He’d have his tea, and she’d have her drip coffee. Just like always. To him, it was routine poetry at this point.

After setting out their mugs, he reached for kitchen shears from the knife rack near the sink.

The walk to the flat’s balcony was short. The space was large, modern, and adorned with a modest smattering of plants that decorated it. Neither of them had the greenest thumb, but the smattering of practical offerings that grew in the heavily shaded space suited them just fine.

He walked to one plant in particular, and after a moment of examination, he clipped something off the end.

By the time Constance had awakened from the aroma of percolating coffee, Ebenezer returned to their bedchamber with another love note in hand.

On this occasion, it came in the form of an aloe leaf.

Thank you for reading! I had a ton of fun here but I always do with these guys and their world, haha.

What are your favorite foods? Mine are poi, M&Ms, mangoes, and musubi (preferably fresh from the convenience store).

TAGS: @quill-pen, @crimson-phantom-designs, @thedivinelights

[becauseplot]

Writing this at ass o’clock in the morning so excuse any incoherency but I can’t stop thinking about how important it is (for me personally) to view/headcanon qFit as entirely perfectly 100% human, and by extension, qCellbit as well.

Like I’m sure ppl have talked about it before but there’s just something so intriguing about having FitMC be Just Some Guy who was hardened by the Wasteland, sculpted by the atrocities he witnessed and committed, no claws or wings or horns or tails to help him. No extra arms for when he lost a limb, no enhanced hearing to make up for his damaged eardrums, no tough scales for when explosions melted his skin, no powerful hybrid instincts to guide him through his life. He is doing everything (hurting, helping, building, tearing, creating, destroying, strangling, soothing, hating, loving, killing, healing) with nothing but his one human hand, which he’s hardened with callouses until it became a set of claws in its own right. He’s been guided by a gut feeling for over ten years now, because it’s all he’s got.

Now. qCellbit. I love cat hybrid qCellbit soooo much, don’t get me wrong. When I think of qCellbit or when I’m writing him, he’s usually a cat hybrid. But just like with Fit, choosing to view qcellbit as 100% human is just as enriching. Small little kid, defenseless and soft and alone, thrown into a warzone. Had to eat his own kind and kill with his teeth and nails and bare hands to survive. Became the most feared thing within the prison walls. Had to learn late in his life how to be a “normal” person in society, something that takes so much time and effort and therapy that sometimes he doesn’t think he is a person. On his bad days, and even on some of his good ones, he views himself as less than human, a creature incapable of loving and being loved. He looks at his hands—tender, naked flesh and blunt nails, ten fingers and two palms—and still sees the claws of a monster.

[dreamwatch]

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | Rating: Mature | WC: 6988

Tags: Angst, Mental health issues, Depression, Cotard’s syndrome, mental institutions, protective Steve Harrington, Angst with a happy ending, recovery, caretaker Steve Harrington (full tags here)

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Robin Buckley, Max Mayfield, Dustin Henderson

Summary: Nobody has seen Eddie for weeks, and nasty rumours are spreading through Hawkins. When Dustin can't get any answers from Wayne Munson he turns to Steve for help.

(Read on AO3 - excerpt under the cut)

Steve’s not friends with Eddie Munson. 

Honestly? After spending four years of high school with him, he’d say he was a bit of an asshole. Eddie thought it was funny to add a ‘t’ when pronouncing Miss Cunliffe’s name. He made a spectacle of himself in the cafeteria while people were trying to have their lunch. He’d sit in the bleachers and make stupid buzzer noises every time someone on the basketball team missed a shot. Steve had actually been on the receiving end of that a couple of times himself; birds were flipped, horns were raised, it was pathetic. 

But then Henderson, Sinclair and Wheeler started high school, and it turned out that Eddie was a safe space for them. He was a walking deflection; no one gives a fuck about some nerdy freshman when Eddie’s standing in their lunch. 

And then there was the Upside Down, where Steve was proclaimed a ‘good dude’, while Eddie pushed him toward Nancy because he thought he could see a flame still burning. He was wrong, but it was nice that someone cared.

So, Eddie Munson: not really an asshole, as it turns out. Or as far as he can tell; Steve hasn’t seen him in months.

Thing is - neither has anyone else.

For a while, they thought Eddie had left Hawkins. But Max has seen him peering out from behind the curtains in his trailer, so everyone knows he’s there. Dustin stopped knocking on the door of the Munson’s trailer weeks ago, but he still calls hoping that Wayne will finally say ‘Sure, he’s right here’ instead of the usual ‘Sorry, he’s busy’. It’s a wonder the kid hasn’t been arrested for stalking.

It gets worse, because of course it does.

The new school year brings new rumours, nastier than the ones before. And Dustin, with his carbon-copy hair, and carbon-copy rings, isn’t letting them out into the world unchallenged.

The story goes that the cops got called to a ‘disturbance’ at Roane County Cemetery, and found Eddie at Chrissy’s grave trying to dig her up. No one with an ounce of sense would believe it, which means that in Hawkins it’s practically gospel.

Of course, when shit hits the fan Dustin has a way of always making it Steve’s problem. He makes Steve promise to talk to Eddie. Steve promises to try; he’s not committing to anything else. 

Max still lives in the trailer park, and the Munson’s new trailer is close to hers. She has an eagle-eye view of the comings and goings from that place. 

He drops her off one night, but she doesn’t immediately get out of the car, so he kills the engine giving her time to talk.

“I’ve seen the cops dropping him off at three o’clock in the morning, Steve. More than once. He looked awful. Like, really skinny. He was like a zombie, like he didn’t even know where he was.”

It’s not his responsibility. But going back for Nancy and Jonathan wasn’t his responsibility, and protecting the shitheads in the tunnels, or in the Russian bunker, or in the Upside Down wasn’t his responsibility. It’s never been his responsibility. But he did all those things anyway because he cared. Still does.

[ink-flavored]

Anthology Blast Prompt 2: Horsing Around

for the Athendroyln After Dark Anthology Full prompt list for the Anthology Blast Tips are appreciated! Contains: satyr/centaur, trans4trans, size difference kink, size queen kink, fingering, handjobs, oral sex, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, nipple play, teasing, begging, praise, public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism Dysphoria warning: There is a trans man and a trans woman in this short story. The trans man’s genitals are referred to with these words: t-dick, ”little cock”, cunt, hole, folds, cervix. The trans woman’s genitals are referred to with these words: cock, dick, balls, shaft, head. Please use discretion if these words will trigger any dysphoria.

Harlan sat at the only open table at this entire party, if he had to guess, watching his frat brother’s backyard get absolutely trashed. It wasn’t his first one by any stretch, but it was one of his first times sitting on the sidelines of any party he was invited to, abstaining from his classmates’ vices. And boy, were there a lot of vices.

Getting a spot by the pool gave him a great angle of the debauchery taking place. He spotted four different couples and at least one threesome splashing around, and taking advantage of the satyr-heavy population’s lack of social modesty. It didn’t stop anyone from jumping into the water, to cheer them on or join the action themselves. Plenty of party-goers were making use of the wide array of potions provided at what passed for a bar. Even more were mixing it with mundane alcohol to create a new and exciting hangover tomorrow. The speakers were inside the house, but the sliding glass doors were wide open to let every note thump out into the yard. And it wasn’t even eight o’clock.

He wasn’t quite wistful, but Harlan did have to catch himself every time he thought about getting a hit of whatever they were brewing inside. There was a reason he planted his cloven hooves outside, where there was relatively more space, and wasn’t nearly as crowded as the dance floor inside. And it was worth it to hold off today—for her sake.

He checked his phone again, just to make sure he hasn’t missed a message. His last text was from half an hour ago. Harlan tugged his short beard, a bit nervous. She was late.

“Harlan, dude, there you are!”

He looked up to see two of his frat brothers, Jet and Darus, trotting closer, dodging other partiers on their way. Darus held a vial of something purple and shimmery over his head so he wouldn’t spill it. Not that it would have mattered, since his auburn and white patched fur was already matted down with something. Jet was clean—his solid white legs would have made it very obvious—but Harlan was almost positive he had a shirt on when they got here. Neither of them looked wasted, but it was only a matter of time.

“Dude,” Jet said, grabbing his shoulder, “Chaq is inside and he’s about to dunk his head in the entire cauldron of the potion of lunacy, you’ve gotta come see.”

“It’s gonna be so sick,” Darus added, white forelock dangling past his horns into his face.

“Tempting,” Harlan said, and it did sound hilarious, “but I’m gonna stick around here, you guys go ahead.”

Jet shoved him a little. “What’s with you, man? Have you even gotten in the pool or anything?"

"I’m binding today.” Harlan opened one side of his yellow button-down, revealing the peach-colored enchanted binder underneath. “Sooo, no, I haven’t.”

Darus handed him the shimmery vial. “At least have a drink.”

He shoved it away. “I’m waiting until Yvonne gets here, I told you. I want to make sure she’s comfortable before I get trashed.”

They gave each other a look. “Yeah,” Darus said. “About that. She’s not here.”

“She said she was running late. She had to get her shoes changed today and there was a line or something.”

Jet sighed and folded his arms. “I don’t want to be an asshole, but—”

Harlan put his face in his hands, flattening his ears against his head. “Not this again, you’re killing me.”

“It’s a little suspicious!”

“Don’t fucking do this to me, Jet.”

“Like, come on, how long have you been together and we’ve never even seen a picture of her.”

He popped up, indignant. “She asked me not to! What, should I just ignore what she’s comfortable with?”

“Obviously not,” Darus said, “but what kind of centaur—what kind of Clydesdale isn’t cool with that?”

“He’s got a point,” Jet agreed.

Harlan swerved around his corkscrew horns to run his fingers through his auburn hair. He contemplated ripping it out. “Look, guys. She’s shy. I’ve told you that a hundred times. We’ve been talking about it, and she’s going to be here, today, because she said she felt ready.”

“Sure, sure. But she’s late.”

“Do you guys really think I would pretend to have a girlfriend for this long? Just to—to, what, make you think I have a girlfriend?”

They looked at each other again.

“I mean, kinda.”

“Yeah, it’s not that hard to imagine.”

Harlan was this close to headbutting them both. “Go fuck yourselves, like actually.”

They both laughed at his expense, and Darus took one of the empty chairs for himself. “There’s no shame in admitting it! I couldn’t pull a centaur, Jet definitely can’t pull a centaur—”

Jet pouted. “Rude.”

“—so you have nothing to fear! We’re all in this together.”

But Harlan wasn’t listening, staring right over his head. A grin slowly spread across his face, and he rose with triumph out of his seat. Jet caught on first, and smacked Darus’ arm to get him to turn around. Both were at risk of their eyes popping out of their skulls.

Squeezing through the open glass doors, Yvonne made her way into the yard, a Clydesdale centaur with a beautiful bay and tobiano pattern. The white marks on her legs nearly reached the splash of white on her horse belly. The same pattern continued on her hands up to her elbows, before meeting the rest of her warm brown skin. Her long black hair was done in goddess braids, with one forelock a shock of white, and her tail swung in one thick braid. She glanced around, clearly anxious, until Harlan raised his hand to wave. She brightened and waved back.

“If you’ll excuse me, gents,” Harlan said, letting his satisfaction drip off every word while his friends picked their jaws up off the floor. He trotted off to meet Yvonne with a skip in his step.

That kind of petty revenge was short lived, though. The closer he got to Yvonne, the less he cared about showing up his friends, and the more he cared about being with her. Harlan weaved in and out of partiers, hopped over chairs, and interrupted a few make-outs on his way.

“Hey, you made it,” he greeted, as soon as she was in earshot.

“Hi,” Yvonne replied, pawing the ground with one of her hooves. “I’m sorry I’m so late, there’s not usually a wait at my farrier’s place.”

“Forget about it, you’re here now.”

She shyly tucked a braid behind her ear and shrugged. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“When am I not sure, baby?”

Yvonne bit her lip in that way he loved, and stretched her arms down toward him. He took her hands and beamed up at her and… sort of forgot what he was doing. The most coherent thought he had was that the dress draped across her human half matched her saddlebags, both a bright, dandelion yellow with little white flowers. If anyone was behind him, they would have seen his short, feathery tail wagging.

“You’re wearing the new dress,” he said.

“Is it okay?” She turned to look over her withers at the saddlebags. “I remember you said satyr couples wear the same color, so I made sure I put this one today.”

“It’s perfect. You look beautiful.”

Yvonne nodded a bit stiffly, taking a heavy breath out. Harlan squeezed her hands.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She glanced around. “It’s loud. And crowded.”

“This is as good as it’s gonna get. Are you sure you want to stay?”

She closed her eyes and exhaled again, but this time, it was determined. “Yes. I can do this.”

“That’s my girl.”

Harlan tugged her arms—because he couldn’t get anywhere near her face, even on the very tips of his hooves—and she bent down for a kiss, in more ways than one. Yvonna knelt on her front two legs to get close enough to cup his face, and he held her as close as their angle would allow. When they parted, he traced the white blaze that ran up the bridge of her nose.

“Do you want to meet the guys?” he asked. “They were just over there sitting with me.”

“Sure, okay.”

Harlan led the way back to their table, but didn’t have to weave his way through the crowd this time. Instead, the party-goers parted for them, as Yvonne handed out soft apologies to everyone who stumbled back in surprise. He wished she wouldn’t—but that was a hurdle to overcome another time.

Jet and Darus were exactly where he’d left them, muttering to each other with their ears tilted unsubtly in their direction. Harlan cleared his throat and they both jumped.

“Boys,” he said, gesturing up, “this is Yvonne, she was able to make it after all. Yvonne, this is Jet and Darus.” He pointed to each of them in turn.

“Hi,” Yvonne said, with a little wave. “It’s so nice to finally meet you both, but I am a little embarrassed it’s taken this long.” Before Harlan could comfort her, both Jet and Darus spluttered their own consolations.

“Psssh, it’s whatever!”

“Nah, don’t even worry about it, it’s cool.” Jet gestured vaguely at Harlan. “Harlan, he’s like—he never shuts up about you, so—”

“Yeah, seriously,” Darus interrupted, “so we’re both excited, too! That you made it!”

Harlan relished his petty revenge again, unsure if he’d ever seen either of them so off balance. He avoided complaining to Yvonne that his friends didn’t think she existed, because he knew it would make her feel terrible, and he stood by that decision. Her feelings were more important than his ego. Watching them scramble was merely an added bonus.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he offered to Yvonne. “There’s a lot of space back here.”

“Oh, sure,” she said, kicking the grass a little. “As long as you all don’t mind staying outside? I don’t think I’d fit anywhere in the house.”

“Relax,” Harlan said, before his friends could fumble their way into doing it for him. “It’s a nice day, and we’re all out here anyway.”

“Yeah, I love being outside,” Jet lied.

“Nothing cool happens inside anyway,” Darus agreed, also lying.

A short distance away, one of the adventurous folks in the pool had a screaming orgasm. All four of them instinctively whipped around, and saw a naiad with another satyr literally drowning between her pussy. She lifted a shaky, watery hand and mouthed Sorry! They waved back to accept her apology, laughing to break the tension.

“Oh my,” Yvonna breathed, looking away with a hand on her chest.

“Like I said,” Harlan continued, “this is where the party’s at.”

He handed the chair he’d been sitting in to Jet to make room for Yvonne to sit down in the grass. She buckled all four of her legs, tucking her two front hooves underneath her and resting on one hip. At this height, Harlan was just tall enough to rest his head on her bicep—and he did, being careful not to poke her with his horns.

“May I?” he asked.

“Go ahead!” she replied, and waved him on.

Harlan hopped up to sit on her withers, where he was now tall enough to put his chin on her shoulder. Jet and Darus had gotten over being shocked and skipped right to exchanging impressed glances, but it didn’t dampen his mood any. He casually folded his arms around her waist, but froze when she sat up a little straighter.

“Too much?” he asked, ready to pull back.

“N-no, it’s fine,” she insisted, patting his arms to keep them where they were. He kept them there, but decided to keep one ear up for any changes.

“So, I hope this isn’t weird,” Jet said, and Harlan braced himself, “but I’ve never actually seen a Clydesdale before—I mean, I’ve barely seen any centaurs, period. Are you from here, or…?”

“Oh, no, my herd is from way up north, near the mountains,” Yvonne replied. “I’ve only been in Athendrolyn for a couple years.”

“Wow, that’s far. Why’d you move?”

“Well, it’s a lot harder to transition when you’re constantly moving around, and the herd physician has to split resources between thirty other people, so—” She shrugged to finish the statement. “Here I am instead.”

Darus snapped his fingers. “Oh, right because you two met at the clinic, right?”

“Yep!” She squished her cheek into Harlan’s face, and he returned the favor.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” Harlan said.

“Why wouldn’t I remember that?”

“Because you’re also the guy who asked why I never told you about ‘my sister’ when I showed you old family photos.”

“Ha!” Jet smacked his arm. “I remember that!”

“One time!” Darus wagged an angry finger. “Literally once!”

“You didn’t tell me that story,” Yvonne said, stifling her own laughter.

“Please don’t tell her that story.”

“Too late!” Harlan declared. “We’re telling the story!”

He took a few minutes to embarrass his friend, but from there, they had plenty more to talk about. Fraternity hijinks, horror stories from their classes, how much they were dreading exam season. Yvonne listened politely, as always, and even bonded with Darus over their matching forelocks, but every so often Harlan felt her shift uncomfortably. He tried to slyly ask her if she needed anything when they had a lapse in conversation. She insisted she was fine, but he had a feeling something was up.

It was her first time at a big party, after all. Harlan believed her when she said she wanted to be here, but it wouldn’t be a surprise if her social anxiety was killing the mood. She frequently glanced around at the rest of the outdoor partygoers, especially the horny ones splashing around in the pool. Harlan had been to so many of these that the sexual cacophony was more or less ambient noise he could tune out, but for Yvonne? Not so much.

He was just on the cusp of asking her outright if anything was wrong when someone came tearing out of the house, yelling and whooping and wearing a lampshade with their horns punched through it. A small crowd followed them out, some brandishing their phones with glee, and others looking close to calling the fire department. All four of them watched in slow motion as the crazed partier did a flying leap into the pool… and landed with a sickeningly loud splat! right on their belly. Everyone around the yard did a collective wince.

“Aaaand that’s gotta be Chaq,” Darus concluded.

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Harlan asked.

“The entire cauldron of lunacy, if I had to guess.”

“Is he alright?” Yvonne asked, both hands pressed to her forehead in shock.

Jet sighed and pushed to his hooves. “I guess we have to go fish him out and see. Come on, Darus.”

“Wait, what? Why do I have to go?”

“You were the one who wanted to see him do it in the first place.”

Darus groaned, but stood up. “Fine, fine, whatever.”

“I can help too, if you need,” Harlan offered.

“Nah, you two stay here,” Jet said, waving them off. “We’ll be right back.”

“Probably,” Darus added.

Two of them trotted off. The rest of the yard started to congregate around the pool to inspect the damage. Even the exhibitionists had stopped to let Chaq’s buddies excavate him from his own bad decisions. The thumping party music sounded wildly out of place.

“I hope he’ll be okay,” Yvonne said, worrying with the end of one of her braids.

“He’ll be fine,” Harlan reassured her. “Chaq is kind of… bizarre. He does this a lot.”

“That sounds unsafe.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it sure can be.”

A moment of silence lapsed. Yvonne dropped her braid to toy with his fingers instead. He nibbled her shoulder, and she giggled. He marked the spot with a kiss.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, “for coming out here tonight.”

She ducked her head. “Thank you. I… I’m happy I did.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Your friends are really nice.” She twisted her fingers up by her head. “And you all have the cute curly horns.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are they cute? You never explained why you think it’s cute.”

“I don’t know!” She waved her hands around, searching for an answer. “I don’t know, it’s like they’re made of candy. Or something.”

“That’s adorable and it doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does!”

“Whatever you say.” He squished his cheek into her shoulder. “Did you… notice if theirs were longer than mine?”

She folded her hands over his gently. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I can never tell if my horns pass enough.”

“Well… I didn’t notice a huge difference. But even if I did, it wouldn’t make you any less of a billy goat, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… hard to stop thinking about sometimes.”

“I know.” She tugged at the skirt of her dress. “I really like this outfit, but I think it was made for people with more—you know.” She cupped her palms up by her chest, where the fabric sat almost flat against her.

“I don’t think it’s a big deal. You still look amazing in it.”

“I guess not. But I feel like it hangs a bit loose.” She plucked it a few times.

“Maybe you can get it tailored.”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “I just wish I could… fill it out on my own.”

“I’ll give you mine, if you want.”

Yvonne laughed, just like he hoped she would. Harlan gave her a full hug from behind, and she sighed comfortably, leaning back until her head was on his shoulder. Despite meaning everything he said, Harlan did notice that the bust of the dress left a gap she couldn’t accommodate—and that gap let him stare right down her chest.

“You know,” he said, “I think you might have grown a little.”

“Really?” She sounded earnest, and then folded her arms when she realized where he was looking. “You can’t possibly tell from that angle.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He mouthed a soft line up her neck. Her whole body shivered, against and underneath him. “I guess I’ll have to check later.”

“You can now.”

His eyebrows shot up to his horns. “Now? Are you sure?”

Yvonne bit her lip and whined, nodding into his neck. And… well, fuck, how was he supposed to say no to that?

Harlan pushed aside her curtain of braids, unzipped the back of her dress, and snuck his hands underneath. He took a moment to feel her back, her sides, slide across her ribs—go everywhere except where she wanted him, basically.

“C’mon,” she pouted, twisting her human torso to try and cheat her way there.

“Come on what?” he asked. It was a tease, sure, but also another chance for her to back off. She’d never been so touchy in public before, much less horny in public. He wasn’t sure what to do.

Yvonne told him outright, “Please, play with my tits, pretty please.”

He did as she asked, grabbing both of her breast buds and massaging them with his hands. She sighed hotly and openly, the picture of erotic relief. Harlan pressed her hard nipples against his palms, rolling them in tiny circles, and kissed up and down her neck some more. She squirmed for him, soft whimpers escaping her plush lips. When he caught one between his fingers and pinched, she moaned right into his ear.

At this point, Harlan felt his t-dick throbbing and was worried about leaving a wet spot on her back. More importantly, though, he could not believe this was happening. Yvonne had a hard enough time working up to coming to this party all, and now they were jumping right to public foreplay? It wasn’t the craziest thing Harlan had ever done, but for her, it was astounding.

Still, he couldn’t resist giving her what she wanted when she was clearly so desperate for it. Already she was panting heavily, little chest heaving under his hands. Harlan pinched and rolled both her nipples, hard. She gasped and her whole body writhed, including the part he was sitting on. Harlan grabbed her tits for dear life as she shifted her weight, nearly throwing him off.

“S-sorry, I’m sorry,” she breathed.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. He had to move his hands to readjust, and took the opportunity to ask, “Hey, uh, not that I’m complaining, but what’s gotten into you today?”

“Uhm, well…” Yvonne shifted in place, like she’d been doing the whole time. “When I started estrogen, my doctor warned me that eventually, I’d develop an estrous cycle during the spring like other mares. And, uh, I think it’s. Happening. Today.”

A lightning bolt shot straight down his spine. “Oh.”

“I didn’t want to mention it, because I hoped I’d be able to ignore it. But there were all those people, h-having sex over there.” She mashed her face into her hands. “And it even made me late.”

“What do you mean? I thought your farrier made you late.”

“I—I lied. I didn’t want to leave the house because I was—” She wiggled around again. “I was really, really hard, and I couldn’t just go out in public like that, so I had to—to touch myself first.” A small whimper. “A couple times. Just to make it go away.”

Harlan was definitely leaving a wet spot on her back. “You should have just called me, baby, I would have helped you out.”

She uncovered her face just enough to look back at him. “Y-you sort of did. I thought about you, so…”

It was too much to bear. Harlan launched himself forward to lock lips, and after one surprised squeal, she returned his passion. He scrambled to any position that would let him keep kissing her, biting her lip, tasting her mouth. The fur between his legs was matted down from his cunt, his tail was going nuts, and above anything he needed to fuck Yvonne right now.

“I can help out a third time,” he breathed, “if you need to come again.”

She nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, I really need to.”

“Right here?”

“Uh…”

They both took the opportunity to look around. The sun was just starting to set, casting an orangey glow on everything in the yard, and he saw colorful fairy lights bouncing inside the house. The shocked crowd had more or less dispersed, but Jet, Darus, and Chaq were nowhere to be seen. Harlan spied a few couples still using the pool to spice up their sex lives, so nobody would be bothered seeing them fuck out here in the open. Yvonne chewed on her bottom lip.

“Can we go back there?” she asked, pointing across the yard.

A runway of grass stretched beyond their ability to see, hiding behind the far side of the house. It didn’t look like anyone was over there. It was far past the party, and they might even have a buffer from the music.

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed.

Yvonne stood up without warning, and he had to grab her to stay balanced again. Moving with urgent grace, Yvonne trotted across the yard, bouncing him all the way. Each step ground his t-dick against her back, and there was nothing that could have stopped his horny mouth from talking.

“Seeing those people in the pool turned you on, huh?” he teased, trying not to moan every time she took a step.

“Y-yeah, a little,” she said, in a way that he knew meant a lot. “I’ve never seen so many people do that and I—” She lost her rhythm and stumbled. “I really wanted to keep watching.”

Harlan felt his brain melt into a little puddle. “That’s really fucking hot.”

Her last few steps were awkward, but it didn’t stop her from making a beeline for their hideaway. She got down in the grass and let Harlan slide off her back before rolling over herself. All four of her big, feathered hooves in the air, belly exposed to the sky, Harlan caught a glimpse of her cock, unsheathed and rock hard. Only a glimpse, because she yanked him down by the shirt.

She crushed their mouths together and Harlan could only return the favor. Feverish with want, he slipped the sleeves off her dress and pulled it down to expose her chest. He got back to what he was doing earlier: pinching, rolling, and adding his mouth to suck on her nipples. Yvonne was open mouthed and gasping in seconds, hardly able to make a sound.

While he worked her tits, Harlan still felt himself reeling from her confession. She’d been getting off on watching those people, right underneath him. All those nerves he thought she had was her desperately seeking relief from her brand-new hormone cycle. Was she a voyeur? Was she an exhibitionist? Both? Was it a product of the estrous alone? Whatever the answer, he thought he’d make himself come just thinking about it. He’d let Yvonne watch him do anything, with anybody, any day of the week, if that’s what she was into. He’d fuck her while she watched someone else get fucked, give her pleasure while she took pleasure in others.

He sobbed a moan into her chest, positive he was dripping wet. Yvonne took his face in her hands and dragged him up to kiss her again. All he could do was pant into her mouth, so desperate he didn’t even care.

Yvonne separated, lips shiny with saliva. “Can I see you?”

“Yeah,” he panted. “Sure, yeah.”

Harlan scooted over, plopped back on his ass, and spread his legs. He knew he was wet, and now they both could see it. She rolled onto her side, propped up on one elbow for a better angle, and ran her fingers through the fur on the inside of his thighs. He shivered.

“Wait,” she said. “I think you got bigger.”

“You think so?” He tried to stick his head down to see.

“Look, I think it’s different.”

Yvonne ran a finger down his engorged t-dick, and he moaned so hard he bleated. He clamped his jaw shut, but it was too late. She put a hand over her mouth, but he could tell she was smiling underneath.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to laugh it off.

“No, don’t be. I think it’s sweet.”

She stroked with her finger again, and he dropped his head back in pleasure. When it was clear she was doing the right thing, Yvonne got bolder, dipping two fingers into his cunt to steal some of his wetness to stroke him faster. He moaned and fisted the grass under his hands. When she moved her fingers in a V-shape on either side of his little cock, he fell back onto his elbows. His head spun with bliss, already so far gone and they’d barely touched each other.

“Th-that feels fucking amazing,” he moaned, forcing himself up on one hand to look at her. “You’re so fucking good.”

Yvonne smiled, excited to be praised, and dove forward into his fur. Harlan gasped at the feeling of soft lips kissing his t-dick. She used her hand to keep his folds apart, took the whole thing in her mouth, and gave him a  gentle suck. Harlan groaned, eyes falling shut in his lust. When he managed to open them again, Yvonne was already looking up at him. Working her tongue in warm, wet circles, she fluttered her lashes. Harlan laughed breathily—he knew what she wanted.

“Look at how pretty you are,” he sighed, and felt her whimper into his cunt. “You’re such a pretty girl, Yvonne, and you look even better with your mouth full.”

She whined, desperate, and sucked again. Harlan moaned, but kept his composure to rub her cheek.

“Good girl,” he praised. “You’re a very good girl.”

Yvonne buried her face in his thigh and moaned, devastated. She kicked her back leg over and over, gasping into his fur. Harlan knew what that meant too, and watched as she tried to get any sort of friction on her cock. He almost drooled watching it bounce against her belly, rocking with the desperate rhythm of her leg. It was so wanton, so hopeless, he couldn’t resist moving on to the main event.

“You’re so good, I almost forgot why we’re back here,” he said, nudging her head away.

“But,” she protested, “don’t you want to—?”

Harlan crawled forward and kissed her silent, licking the taste of himself off her lips. He rolled her onto her back again, stroking a hand down her body as far as he could reach.

“I’ll definitely come from getting you off,” he told her. “Promise.”

Yvonne swallowed hard and whimpered. “Okay.”

Harlan staggered to his hooves. He raked his fingers through his thigh fur on the way down to Yvonne’s cock—the fact that he needed to walk there, even if it wasn’t very far, always made him shiver. Both her back legs were bent at the hock and spread wide, putting her on full display for him. Harlan ducked under her leg and made sure not to step on her braided tail as he took up his favorite spot: right behind her cock, so she could watch everything he did.

Yvonne’s dick was longer than his arm. Large, prominent veins ran up and down the shaft, and he knew if he touched one, he’d feel the pulse keeping it thick and hot. The head was wider than the rest of it, with a prominent rim and flared ends. At the other end, her shaft was cushioned by the wrinkled skin of her sheath, and her balls dangled in front of him enticingly. Too heavy to stand upright on its own, her cock rested against her belly, waiting to be touched.

He had no choice but to oblige. Harlan sighed hotly, and ran his palm from root to tip, savoring the smooth, warm skin. Yvonne gasped and arched her back, crumpling her dress in her fists. He leaned a little forward, grabbing her shaft with both hands and stroking her. She moaned, loud, much louder than he expected. Harlan kept going, aching to hear more. She whimpered and squirmed under his hands.

“More,” she begged. “More, I need it, more.”

Harlan bent over and licked the very edge of her sheath. She cried out in ecstasy, and there was no way that the rest of the party was ignorant to them now. Shocked, all he could do was keep going, stroking and lapping at her cock, out in the open.

The next time his hands went up, they came away with a sticky, transparent sheen. A steady stream of thick pre-cum flowed from her tip, dripping down her belly, and now all down her shaft. Harlan reached up to rub her head for more, stroking faster with the added slick. Yvonne keened and—his favorite thing—her massive cock twitched. The muscle jumped under his hands, throbbing with pleasure. Harlan shivered head to toe, at risk of bleating again.

It was no secret how much he loved her size. Yvonne insisted she was average for a centaur, maybe even a bit below average, but she was still bigger than every minotaur Harlan had ever fucked, combined. And it wasn’t just her dick, it was everything. Her hooves were bigger than dinner plates. She had to duck under every doorframe, even the ones built for centaurs. Harlan wasn’t short for a satyr, but next to her, he was tiny. And he loved it.

Every time they fucked, he did his best to gratify every inch of her. With both hands, mouth, grinding on her, using his entire body, whatever got the job done. He wanted to fill her gorgeous cock with pleasure and let it boil over into the rest of her. From the end of her tail to the tips of her fingers, he wanted her entire body, easily ten times his size, to tremble with bliss. That’s how he’d know he did a good job.

Maybe it was the estrous cycle, but Yvonne was already satisfying that desire for him. Her hind legs were tense trying not to kick, but her front legs had no such responsibility, failing wildly as he stroked her. She was at risk of tearing her brand-new dress right off, jerking it in every direction. If she wasn’t already on the ground, her head would have been thrown back in ecstasy, moans and whimpers tumbling out like they weren’t at a house party. Harlan had long since forgotten to worry about her anxiety, stroking her cock with renewed enthusiasm.

“H-Harlan!” she cried, her first coherent word in ages. “I want you, so much.”

“I’m right here, I’m giving it to you,” he soothed, stroking down hard. Wrong answer. She shook her head wildly. He laughed a little. “You’ve gotta tell me what you want, then.”

“More.”

“More what?”

She nearly sobbed, throwing her arms over her face. “Fuck me, please, I want to be inside you so much. Please, please fuck me!”

He had to stop to catch his breath. It was crazy to see her like this—so completely shameless. It was hard to believe this was the same centaur who apologized for walking, who always put everyone else’s comfort above her needs. But here she was, writhing in the grass of someone else’s yard, begging to be fucked, without a care in the world for who noticed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I can do that.”

The sound she made was so grateful, he had to stop himself from racing down to kiss her. Harlan scrambled around to sit on her belly, his back turned to Yvonne now, and her cock staring him head on. It was shiny and throbbing from his work, the flowing pre-cum making her body slippery. Harlan scooted down, and leaned back slowly, spreading his legs wide.

“Please hurry,” she whined.

“I know, baby, I’m almost there.” Harlan cupped the head of her cock, tracing the rim. “You’re gonna be so deep inside me, I promise.”

She exhaled shakily. He used his pre-cum soaked hands to wet his cunt, and finger himself a little to prepare for what was coming. Then, slowly, he pushed Yvonne inside him.

The head was always the most difficult part to take. It was not made for a hole as small as his, and Harlan felt it every time. He exhaled deeply to make as much room for it as possible, pressing it inside a little at a time. A hot gush of her pre-cum spilled over his cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his own little cock throbbing now.

“Are you okay?” Yvonne asked. She was still herself after all.

“I’m fine, just relax.”

Harlan took his own advice and took another deep breath. With the added slick, he was able to pop the head of her cock inside him. And immediately gasp, cunt stretched so wide already. He felt the flared rim pushing against his insides. It almost hurt to take so much of her, and it was just the head.

“Fucking fuck,” he swore, trying to catch his breath.

“Harlan?” Yvonna called, more than a little worried.

“I’m okay.” He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip and whimpered. The rest of Yvonne’s cock stretched out before him. “You’re so fucking big.”

Behind him, he heard a thump, like she’d collapsed back into the grass. “Y-you’re really, really tight.”

That was all the motivation he needed. Harlan took her shaft and guided more of it inside. Smaller and smoother than her head, the shaft was easier to take, but it was still massive. He had his mouth hanging open in a silent moan the whole time, filling himself with more and more and more of her cock, but there was still so much more left. When the head of her cock tapped his cervix, he writhed in pleasure, moaning like he’d never been fucked in his life. In the end, he hadn’t even taken half.

“I-I can’t fit anymore,” he gasped. “I’m so full, I’m so full of your cock, baby.”

Yvonne choked on air. “F-f-ahh-nn!”

Harlan moved by grabbing her sides and pushing. He felt every inch of the dick that slid out, and didn’t make it very far before pulling himself back down. They moaned together, completely crazed with lust. He continued at that slow pace, all he could manage, but it was plenty for both of them.

Yvonne had gone perfectly still for his sake, no more thrashing around. But he felt her breathing hard underneath him, her belly heaving as he fucked himself on her cock. Feeling her move—he wished he had a free hand he could rub himself off, but it took everything he had to hold on. He had no choice but to surrender himself to the feeling of being so full he thought he’d burst. He watched the miniscule amount he’d managed to fit inside disappear into his cunt, and compared it to the rest left over. He whimpered at the thought of more.

There was no way it was possible to fit more of her inside him, and he knew that. Not unless he was fine with a few ruptured organs. But fuck, it would be incredible. If he could take all of Yvonne and truly fuck himself on her entire cock, fuck her as deeply and thoroughly as she fucked him, there would be go going back. He might not ever do anything else. Every spring, he’d fuck her until she screamed and begged and came as many times as she needed to satisfy her estrous for the day. And then he’d do it again the next day.

His legs trembled, but he had to go faster. He yanked himself up and down, not wanting to hurt her, but fuck, he needed this. He needed Yvonne so badly, he needed to pound himself on her cock, to take as much of it as he possibly could.

“I love you,” he rasped. “I love you so much, I love how you feel, I wish we could stay like this. Fuck.”

“I—” Yvonne tried, voice broken and shaky. “I—Ha—”

He laughed dizzily. “It’s okay, if you can’t—”

“I—I’m gonna come!”

Harlan was just pulling her back out when it happened. Her cock twitched and burst inside his cunt, flooding him with her cum. He absolutely couldn’t take it anymore.

He didn’t even pull her out before furiously jerking off his t-dick. Neglected for so long, it didn’t take long for him to start bucking and moaning into his own hand. His cunt was slippery enough that he didn’t need any help, but if he needed any, cum leaked out the side of his hole in abundance.

Yvonne’s cock shrunk enough to pop out on its own. He gasped at the loss, but moaned for a different reason. Like a popped cork, all of her cum spilled out at once. It drenched his fur, drenched her stomach, and it felt endless.

Harlan arched his back and came hard. There was nothing that could have driven him over the edge faster, and he laid there for what felt like minutes, waves of ecstasy crashing over his mind and rippling through his shaking body.

It felt deathly quiet when he came back to himself. The evening had turned to a definitive night, stars twinkling above. The party music was still going on, somewhere. The only sound he cared about was Yvonne’s breathing, her belly still gently moving him up and down.

“That was awesome,” he concluded.

Yvonne laughed, groggy from her own orgasm. “Mhmm.”

He sighed, content. “I don’t really want to go back to the party.”

“Mm. Me neither.”

“Do you want to just go back to your place? Watch a movie or something?”

“That sounds nice.“

“Or we can go for round two?”

“Umm.” Harlan couldn’t see her, but he knew she was biting her lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He smiled into the starry night. “Whatever you need.”

-

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