#i am getting drunk again and rethinking life

[peakyltd]

Changes

John Shelby x Reader

A/N: I was supposed to finally finish chapter 5 of New Endings (I promise it’s almost there) but it didn’t really work out the way I wanted and I'm stuck on such a little part so instead I wrote this. Don’t expect too much because it’s just something I suddenly came up with and idk what it is. I missed writing and making moodboards so much so I really wanted to make and (FINALLY) post something again!

Warnings: none (bad plot maybe)

Word count: 1454

A crowd had filled the room, people were happily chatting away or creating new connections with many of the important figures that were invited.

She had lost John to one of those conversations and even though she felt sorry for him, she finally got the chance to get herself a new drink. Both of them dreaded the event that Tommy had organized but how much they wanted to decline the invitation, they couldn’t. Or well, weren’t allowed to. He was John’s brother after all and according to Tommy it would be good for business.

The location was fancy and only the best of the best was good enough. It showed how much had changed in these years, climbing the ladder of social positions and rising above anyone whoever doubted them.

She liked the new kind of freedom she and John had gained but if it was for them there was no need for all the extravaganza and forced gatherings, something his older brother thought different of.

While she sipped on her newly gotten glass of champagne, she let her eyes scan over the crowd. The expensive dresses and tailor made suits were everywhere and she had to remind herself that, even though it almost made her laugh, she and John belonged there too now. She was wearing a beautiful sparkly dress that might’ve been a bit too overpriced and John’s suit was far from being cheap as well. This is our life now, five words that left his mouth so easily that he had to rethink them once he heard them himself.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Ada joined her, her gloved hand holding a glass of champagne. “I guess.” She looked at the woman next to her. “You guess?” A small smirk appeared on her lips, knowing the actual answer already. “I don’t.” She confessed as she chuckled softly. “I can tell.” Ada chuckled as she pointed out the obvious and sipped on her drink.

“Everyone is just forcing themselves to be nice it seems.” She looked at the crowd again, hoping to find a sign of John. “John was nice enough to let you get out of it.” Her sister in law noticed. “Or I might’ve just seen a chance to get out it and took it.” She giggled, while she was not being able to find her husband.

Ada shook her head, chuckling. “Knowing him, he won’t appreciate it.” (Y/N) looked at her, shrugging. “And knowing him, you know very well that he’d do the same to me.”

“He definitely would.” Ada admitted as they both chuckled. “Speaking of the devil.” She nodded her head towards John, who was coming their way. “Where did you go?” He wondered as he joined both women, gently resting his hand on (Y/N)'s back. “Seemed you had a very interesting conversation so I decided to occupy myself with something else.”

“Occupy yourself with getting drunk, perhaps?” He looked at her, a grin tugging on his lips. “I’m not drunk but I do wish I was.” She sighed jokingly. “Me too.” He confessed while he got a stern look from Ada. “Oh c’mon Ada, you can’t tell me you enjoy this, do you?”

“You know how important this is f-“ She was interrupted by a sigh, a low gravely voice followed after. “Ada, Tommy wants you to meet someone.” Arthur announced. “Behave, please.” She warned John before making her way to Tommy, Arthur following her.

“I’ve been behaving myself whole fuckin’ night. I’m not some fuckin’ menace now, am I?” He muttered as he finished his drink. “Well…” (Y/N) started as he looked at her. “Oh shut up.” He smirked, squeezing her waist before kissing her cheek. “Maybe we should wander around a bit, hm? Discover this overly fancy place. It’s big enough to find some privacy.”

She looked up at him, smiling. “I’d love to but I think we can’t sneak away so easily.” He raised his eyebrows at her words. “And why do you think that?” His hand cupped her cheek. “Your brother likes to keep control at all times and it seems like he really wants you here.” She explained, knowing how strict he could be. John shook his head. “Just play along, darling.” His thumb stroked her cheek before he put his hand on her forehead.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes scanned his face, confused by what he was doing. “Seems like you’re pretty warm, aren’t you?” A small smile tugged on her lips, understanding where this was going. “I’m not feeling that well, no.”

“I think it’s better if you get some fresh air.” He took her champagne, put his fingers in the glass and splattered the liquid on her face. “John!” She gasped in shock. “I mean you’re sweating. Must be a fever.” He smirked as he put both of their glasses away and took her hand. “Come on.”

She followed him as he made his way to his brothers and sister, the feeling of excitement creeping up on her. “Uhm... Tom, sorry for interrupting but we’re leaving." While Tommy paused his conversation, Ada turned and gave both of them an annoyed look." "And why's that?" The older brother wondered. "(Y/N) is not feeling well.” (Y/N) nodded as she looked at him. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I really need some rest.” She held onto John’s arm while he gently stroked her hand.

Tommy nodded slowly as he looked at her before turning his attention to John. “Will you come back?” He asked John. “I don’t know. Depends on how she’s feeling. I can’t just leave her alone.” He squeezed her hand, which made her try out her best fake cough. “Of course you can’t.” Ada answered sarcastically. “Well, take care (Y/N) and come back whenever you can.” Tommy answered shortly before turning back to his conversation.

John’s arm wrapped around her waist as he escorted her out of the room. “Well aren’t you an amazing actress? I mean the fake cough and everything.” He whispered in her ear as he closed the heavy door behind them with a big grin on his face. “You aren’t too bad yourself.” She chuckled while he dabbed her face dry with his sleeve. “I was very believable, hm?” He smirked. “Very.” She agreed as she grinned at him. He took her hand and he led her up the big stairs. “Where are we going?” She wondered curiously. “I don’t know yet.”

While they wandered trough the halls, John tried to open various doors until he found one that was unlocked. He ushered her inside and closed it behind her. She walked up to the big window that had a view over the gardens, they were gently touched by the moonlight. “Look at this.” She breathed out as she looked at the perfectly designed gardens with hundreds of beautiful flowers. John walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s very pretty.” Her hands rested on his arms as silence fell over them, enjoying the fact they were finally alone.

“Can you promise me something?” She spoke up after she let many thoughts run trough her mind. “Of course, love.” He said as he waited for her to continue. “Never change.” Her fingertips ran over his arm. “I wouldn’t dare.” He smiled while he kissed the side of her head. “I understand that this is our life now but I just hope it won’t affect us in a negative way.” She confessed, unsure about the new situations they found theirselves in time after time.

“It hasn’t so far, has it? Or do you mean with a negative way that we don’t own a house like this just yet?” He joked, earning a chuckle from her. “I still prefer our house over places like this.” She told him as she thought about their house on the countryside. “Me too.” John admitted. “But, I have to admit that seeing you wearing dresses like this is something I can get used to.” He smirked as he pressed a kiss in her neck. “Then I must admit that this suit is doing something to me as well.” She giggled as she felt his lips in her neck again.

“Hm…” He let go of her and turned her around so she was facing him. He gently put his hand on her forehead. “I think I found the cause of your temperature rising.” He smirked. “It’s me.”

She laughed. “Of course it’s you. You always have that effect on me.” She grinned while she felt his arms around her body. Hers found their way around his neck with ease. “Maybe I can cure your fever.” He smirked as he leaned in and gently pressed his lips against hers.

idk what this kind of cringey end is but I hope you guys enjoyed it nonetheless 🤭

[yutasbimil]

Outlier

vyn x fem!oc | tears of themis ff. (psychology major!lead) ✦ (5/8) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: hurt/comfort, smut cw: nsfw minors dni, p0rn w/ plot, first time, kissing, drunk/intoxicated, angst to soft comfort *cue ugly sobbing*, oral (female receiving), teasing, fingering, overstimulation, dom/sub; top/bottom dynamic, dirty talking (kinda silly tho), kinky; hair pulling/slapping, dumbification, multiple orgasms, passionate af; dammit vyn, rough sex, unprotected sex, aftercare, FLUFF ! ! ! D; + supposedly this is a 'x reader' fic but got too heavy eventually, I apologize truly ;; word count: 4.8k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

do not repost © yutasbimil (2023)

cont.

Vyn carries her back into the hotel room. The tension was as heavy as the wooden door shutting close behind them.

She had her face red, tears leaking due to the hotness she was feeling. It managed to be cooled off a bit by the white soft sheets of the hotel bed. Yule reeks of alcohol, much reddened by embarrassment. Never in her life had she got this drunk.

Though she’s  a bit  tipsy– a little more than calculated– as good as she is at math, her attempts once again misfired; miscalculated.

Yule goes on what we may call  pouncing  at him once they get into their room, getting hold of him being clingy as she is, opposite to the restrained Yule that feels allergic to even leaving a touch on his finger. 

Of course, Vyn respects her by remaining at arm's length by holding her shoulders to balance her weight. Even if it was intentional or if she wanted to get intimate with him, he digressed. She's drunk, that's of the utmost importance to keep in mind.

The tiredness seeping into them really weighed them like the feeling you have after a party. And here lies the unresolved tension within the hotel room.

She feels her head-turning, much like a black hole sucking in every fiber of her system.

"Fuck, never doing this again." It's more on a declaration although more assured of never getting wasted up to this point. At most, she wouldn't want to be near anything alcoholic for a long long while. "I'm so sorry, Vyn." 

"You keep apologizing…" His voice is soft, indistinguishable for Yule especially with his utmost concern seeing her like this.

She has her arm atop her forehead but it's anything but helpful as it's still heavy as fuck. Compared to the weight Vyn has on his chest as she has him close, he's really the type of person with the body temp to be on the colder side. 

The cold silence between them pales in comparison to the actuality of their heated thoughts.

"It's not just… me being… so drunk." Yule felt her hot desire to quench her thirst. Her throat felt so desert dry. "I'm…"

Yule rethinks every decision she made, even the very reason why she even pursued Vyn in the first place. She's too much of a burden to be with the likes of him. She's a wreck.

Vyn felt the heaviness of her core with her deep sigh, and the tinge of regret in the quiver of her gaze, which honestly, pulled a heartstring at the moment she looked at him with such pity in her eyes.

How unfortunate of you to be with me.

"Why does it look like you're going to push me away anytime soon?" Vyn states,  but aren’t they already here? Is there even a chance to walk away now? 

Vyn further inspects her blank stares of hesitance. There's a heaviness at the pit of his stomach.

But I also don’t want to leave her alone.

"Am I not doing it already?" She says in a monotone. The grip of her hands by his arm says otherwise as if begging for her dear life to not let go.

Honesty does spill more through actions…

Vyn chortles at that, nodding slightly and looking away. He just lets her hold on to his hand despite the denial she’s been putting up all this time. The man doesn’t let her fully lie down though.

“Okay, you'll be pushing me away then… At least when I let go, sober up first so it wouldn’t hurt as much in the morning, hmmm?” Vyn supports the back of her head, lifting her body so she can sit right up.

She’s just quiet, praying that he still firmly believes this painted demeanor of her drunken state is certainly caused by the alcohol.  Yeah, it's definitely still the alcohol.

Though, her impetus for her blushing is for a different reason.

Yule felt everything moving slower around them. Listening to his words, dragged her more mesmerized, taken by the flow of the softness of his low voice. It is amplified within the closed space they’re encapsulated in.

Yule is unconsciously driven to his lead, listening to what he’s telling her to do.

"Drink water, it is to lessen the headache upcoming." His intent as he takes hold of her carefully, shows his real desire through his movements.

Absent-mindedly, she blurts out her question as she keeps following her eyes at him.

“Why do you like me?”

Vyn can't answer properly, she's a plethora of admirable things, but despite that, his interest and feelings towards her are abstract; unexplainable by concrete words alone… 

"You're fascinating… as a person, you're many things if I can put it into words." He didn't let the dryness of the pre-consumed alcohol hold back his thoughts. "I’m still going along with it, Yule and I’d be willing to restate it once again you’ve sobered up." 

His voice is soft, full of assurance, yet even at this moment, she remains blinded and deafened by her insecurities. She quickly vents her rebuttal, as if putting up a concrete wall between them.

“I’m horrible and too much, I'm always overwhelming to be around, and just…  too much . Would you stay despite all that?” She's shaking, vulnerable as her tone shows how she’s all over the place.

I'm anything but that—  she felt hostile towards what she heard. He knows she needs to be calmed down.

“Yule, what are you saying?  Hmmm?”  He attempts to touch her cheek, but Vyn gets cut off by the swift hand warding him off.

"Earlier, I…" The conclusion in her tone came forth along her tears, it burned his cheeks seeing her like this. In her mind, it hurt her how earlier it came off as a rejection, with Vyn avoiding any means of contact with her. “I actually thought you don’t want to continue…  this … as I thought you don’t want me…” 

Yule is gesturing to her and him; them.

Vyn holds back his hand that's supposed to reach out to her. “I was only hesitant to do it with you as you’re intoxicated, in thoughts of taking advantage of you. I held back… I didn't mean to have ill intention towards my restraint, dear.”

He thoroughly explains to her, but she remains quiet as her current belief is swiftly toppled over his rationale. She lowers her head, unable to construct any argument back.

“Of course, I want to be with you, Yule. I’m still here, am I not? I won't go anywhere…” Especially when she's like this, she can't be left alone. He's talking some sense and logic in her as she starts clinging tightly to his polo shirt. It is getting more and more tear-stained, but it also pools warmth in both their chests.

This hug is proof that he still likes her despite everything.

-

Vyn helps her sober up and calm down, having a crying fit also made Yule feel guilty as she may put him through all this crap.

She apologizes again as they always seem to end up in mishaps.

"I'd be willing to work through it with you, but of course, I'm also human. I only have to do much and of course, I also have my limits and shortcomings." Vyn acknowledges her worries. She knows full well how hard relationships can be.   They're willing. 

And she's difficult to handle, she’s well aware that she has inadequacies. But she does like him, like a whole lot. And she wants to actively work on herself and work through this relationship with him.

She feels sorry for being so closed off.

But he feels an ache in him, he’s also not being fully honest with himself. And not being open with her with his own baggage as well.

"I want to make up with you as soon as possible." Yule starts, getting back to his effort by closing off a different type of distance between them. She leaves a few centimeters gap, letting their breaths linger close. "Will it be fine this way?"

Finally closing the gap, they also didn't leave any space between their fingers as they gripped into both their holds. 

It felt electric to the lips, Yule's eyes had to quiver at the sensation. Vyn pulls away for a moment, moving by her forehead. Vyn starts chaste by her eyes, kissing her tears away as she’s growing emotional again. They kissed again as it felt eons that they hadn’t touched, till they got lost in calculation.

She grabs hold of his collar for support, letting go again for a moment of breath.

Every touch of the man was unfaltering as he planted more touches into her skin. Vyn reaches out for her face to meet their lips for the fifth? Seventh?— Yule already lost count at this point, but her greed is only starting to grow.

A confession slipped off her lips, both looking more obviously swollen already.

"I was really anticipating this, and I've been thinking of when would be the next time we'll actually do   it  ." The pressed syllable on the end implied as clear as daylight to the man. 

His look reciprocated how it didn't leave his mind as well, though it appeared teasing.

"What a naughty girl you are."

"I am very much so…" Yule giggles, but it's anything but bashful. "How can I not be when I have such a handsome man alone in a hotel room? Better yet make use of the opportunity."

Her forwardness really pushed Vyn to the edge, just in time as he's got his gauge of patience filled, it’s growing dire.

"Let's use and make haste for the night." He chuckles, placing a kiss on her warm cheek. Fervently placing a moist kiss by her collarbone the next. "Very soon," he appealed as he lowered the straps of her dress further down. 

As turbulent and quick-paced the past weeks with her had been, he was hooked  badly . Down bad as he’s inexplicably attracted to her aura.

He’s intrigued at the very next pages they would go through. Like reading a book, the uncanniness of how he would spread her open now are like pages cascading down to his expected outcome. 

Although, the onset of the scenarios up to this point of deep entrancement, it is full of unpredictability. It is also as abundant as the card pool probability. It draws him more to his curiosity. Turns out the next outcome just led Vyn into pulling their fates closer and closer to each other.

Yule’s gaze is fully engaged on his pretty, veiny fingers by his silk necktie, straight down her line of sight on the way his hand removes it. Some part of her aches for it to remain tied around his neck, alas, she could only grab hold of him with her own weakening hands. His golden eyes were sharp and entrancing at his sultry movements, anticipation pooled all over her system.

She gradually became enervated as Vyn kissed her by the ear, breathing down her neck the next. He starts seductively licking her bare shoulder, she shudders at his voice. “I’m going to make you   not   forget about me after tonight, m’lady.”

 "Ahh-hmmm…   I’m afraid that’s an impossible task with you, love.   "  Yule didn’t have a chance to catch her breath as she was cut short, Vyn was quick to grab hold of her chest with his free hand. While the other pulls down her dress to let her breasts free, she sucks in a breath the same way as the man sucks at her erect nipples. 

They got sensitive to the cold however their bodies are anything but frigid. Vyn strips off her clothes, one by one meeting the carpeted floor.

“Ahhh… that’s so good, please.   Ah-  ” Yule mewls, restraining herself from grabbing hold of his scalp. Their senses are also heightened, due to having to just recover from alcohol earlier. But she's more attentive now as she is enticed by his mellow motions. Vyn didn’t leave any room for disappointment as he attended to both breasts, leaving no gaps for Yule in her moans of pleasure.

It left her core pooled in anticipation all the more as she waited for this for who knows how long. Her impatience is growing more explicit with her ardent whimpers. “Vyn,   fuck–   you’re making this harder for me,   I want you.” 

“Patience, my dear. Good things take their sweet time…” Vyn divulged, pausing to even tease a painfully slow lick by both her nipples, then by the bare skin of her breasts. He gives it a suck as he uses the other hand to twist and hover over her erect knobs. He keeps his golden eyes direct with hers this whole time. “And I want to pleasure you to my utmost care, pleasured to the edge… sloppily wet and ready… before the most anticipated segment.”

“Vyn… how cruel. This hurts more…” Yule gulps a breath, moaning as he now touches the very much heated, moist core in between her legs. Every touch of his felt mouth-watering, as if his presence was a bell ringing, alarming her salivary glands. She knows Vyn means well to treat her right, but  goddamn  she didn’t expect this to feel more of a torture to crave for his dick.

“It’s… Vilhelm. Call me Vilhelm." He paused, feeling Yule tense up as he pulled away momentarily. "It ought to be rude not to address your lover properly, hmmm?”

“Is that why you chose Vyn to be short?” She can’t pinpoint where she got turned on, is it the sudden admission of his name, indicating his intimacy or him indicating that they’re true lovers.

He nods as if a weight got off him with those syllables, they ought to venture more about that later to be sat down. But first things first.

She feels him loosen up as they take the next steps. She takes this as a sign to also loosen the wrapped belt around his waist.

Yule also removes his polo shirt to not be the only one exposed to the other.

She almost gasps at the scene seeing his toned chest, but his eyes are more stripped naked in his state, vulnerable with his glassy eyes staring back at her.

“I want to make you feel good too.”

Yule pulls him close, wrapping her hands around his neck to place kisses by his cheeks, a lingering peck to the ear, up the forehead, and letting her lips run wild all over his skin. Anywhere that is possible and bare to her sight.

“Later, Yule. You first,” he insists as if heeding him down to lay on her back. 

In his dominant stare, she had no choice but to be vulnerable. She’s now got her legs spread wide open, ready like eagle wings to soar– and in this case, to be eaten by him as he takes her up the skies. 

“Does this feel good?” Vyn says in between him licking the exterior of her nerves and then inserting a finger into her wet core. He still wants a clear ‘yes’ despite the restrained mewls she elicits. “No need to hold back, love.”

“Yes,  yes… ah—   ” She’s just keeping control to keep sane from the overstimulation. But he never misses a beat in his rhythm. “   Fuck–   this is making me crazy, ah, ooh… please.” 

Followed again by strings of vowels as he moved more pleasantly crudely with his tongue and fingers. As much as he’s whispering sweet nothings to her, he’s fucking foul with what his mouth and body could do to her.

She bucked her hips, almost curving to the sensation as he also touched the other part of her nether regions. “Wait,   uhhh,   shit, love– what are you doing?”

“Is this not to your taste?” he asks, now just hovering a bit by her butthole. Honestly, she’s taken aback and reinstates her thoughts. “I’m quite indifferent here… uhmmm, I never thought of going there, Vyn.”

“I could take it slow and I’ll go along with the feeling if you’re still alright?” 

She nods, and he maneuvers into it slowly, observing her in her response. It takes her a while to get the feel of it, but it’s getting too much at the same time, She almost yelps as he moves back and forth to a sensitive portion.

She never experienced touching both holes.

Her pleasure and voice is pivoting further out the room, she’s too damn close.

It's far beyond compared to when she masturbates, let alone when she touches herself. She can't believe she'd be feeling this good and tended by a man.

As much as he's enough to give her needs, she’s pushed to the edge of insanity due to the pleasure. But it leaves her more unsatiated and hungry for Vyn.

She felt her throat dry, and her thirst and salivating senses left her exhausted. Yule wants his lips on hers, tongue gauging and fighting with hers. She wants to be nasty with him. But he's too busy swimming into her pool of pleasure, fingers simultaneously macerated already.

Vyn's mouth is moist due to her wetness.

Yet, Yule is left in too much overload with pleasure due to his fingers and tongue on work, She ought to be filled quicker to her limit.

The squelching sounds of his thirst felt scorching in comparison to her hot core, she's bulking her hips at every resistance she's fighting to come over her peak.

“Vilhelm, too much… let me,   please , rest…   hmphh ,   ah-   love.” Yule is too loud at this point, she's glad the walls are thick and private in their own cavern. She caves in feeling something white, awaiting to erupt all over her pit of stomach, down her legs shaking at the sensation. Then another sensation bulldozed into her as Vyn kept going in ramming and twisting curling his finger in her G-spot.

She feels something big coming.

 Is that even possible?!   Even surprised ‘O’ shaped her mouth due to moaning out loud. "Vyn…   hnghhh—   fuck!”

It was too late to let Vyn know as she already climaxed. He lets her senses reverberate in his presence, still letting her ride into her orgasm by lapping his tongue into her whilst pumping his fingers in her.

Yule wasn't able to control herself on how good Vyn was doing. She didn't know she had to  beg  him to stop making her feel so good.

Both of them are left in heaving breaths, although Yule's is more labored compared to his.

“Exhausted already? We're just getting started.” Vyn has a mischievous tone in him, making Yule exert extra energy to roll her eyes at him. This seems a different side of him. She had to smirk. “Sorry, I can’t keep up with you, Doctor.”

The shift in the nickname had him chuckle. “So you’re willing to tend to you then, Miss Saints?”

They had to take a quick laugh at the sudden ‘roleplay’ vibe they accidentally established. 

She spreads her arms for a fleeting hug. “Give me some oxytocin then, Dr. Richter.”

Vyn took this as a chance to hover over her, locking her in between his arms to guide her into another position, His eyes are now filled with more energy, she pales in comparison to her ragged breaths.

She gulps for fear or anticipation, she can’t seem to decide.

Guess she’s putting her hips to work again, her wetness also keeps on flowing at cue. Yule had to blush at her shamelessness.

“Looks like you’re already set, Yule?” Vyn takes a swift swap at her swollen wet core. She shivers and elicits a soft mewl at that.

“Same goes to you, Vilhelm,” she breathes out an amused laugh, pointing to his erect bulge, touching through the fabric. She removes his brief so it’s out of the way.

Vyn lays her back down, and they’re back to their position with him hovering over her, in close proximity. Seeing what was about to unfold soon, she had to gulp.

“W-wait,” Yule blocks her wet core, seeing her suddenly erratic, Vyn holds her hand. 

“Are you scared? We can stop her–”

“I mean  yes , but I don’t want to stop…” Her anxiety shows through her cold sweat, but she breathes out. “I’m just afraid as it’s my first time.”

“I’ll make the best out of your experience, but you can tell me to stop anytime, okay?”

It is valid, and Vyn looks directly at her, full of softness and patience. Yule feels her senses relax again, his body and presence feeling more light and present.

“As scary as it is, this is a risk I’m willing to make. We’re already here, aren’t we?” She doesn’t want to waste anything any further. The same shows how she is at ease with her muscles relaxed.

Vyn nods, placing a quick kiss by the side of her face till he distances himself for a moment. He angles his erection into her, the hotness of his dick was too much just by the surface. The insertion was as impactful as his fixated eyes into hers.

Then the relief as he puts it in is  phenomenal .

“Vyn, please, slowly. But, ahhh… so good already.” She grabs onto his toned arms, he breathes in as he flips his bangs off his face momentarily then smiles over her. “Is this how you imagined it to go?”

“It’s   beyond   what I expected.”

He had to spread a smile on that. “We’re just starting… So let's go over that expectation of yours, alright?”

He starts slow as Yule feels every centimeter of his begins indulging in her. “  Ahhh,   yes, yes. More… please.” 

Vyn easily puts it in but she’s in it for another adjustment, adjusting to his length and width, she’s spread open and vulnerable in many ways.

This is really far different from anything she had experienced in bed, let alone her first time as she’s lacking all possible experience per se.

"Kiss... me, please." moans of plea gush out of her as Vyn leans in to share his warmth and moist lips with hers. It is tender although opposite to the roughness they're about to delve into.

She didn’t even know that she had such erogenous zones that were  that sensitive  by the ear. Yule had to flinch at a mere licking done in her ear, yelping as he bit onto it– she was in it for another overstimulation as he even played with her breasts and nipples. He really keeps himself busy, hands all over her.

She doesn’t want him to pull off.

Vyn maintains the slow and passionate movements, and she could feel every twitch and bulge he does the lovemaking with his hips to his dick in and out of her.

He goes on ahead in holding her by the arms, then shoulders to angle her better. 

“Is this better?” He pounds into her a bit rougher than usual, and she had to bulk her hips at that.

“Rougher, i-is that fine?” 

To be honest, she wanted to be manhandled, but Vyn had something else in mind on their first ever night together.

“I’ll try…” Vyn listens, his lips and touch still full of passion with every kiss.

She doesn’t comprehend how in the world he keeps it gentle yet vehement. Even as he pulls by her arms to ram into her, pounding her further into reverie.

It pushes her more into pleasure as they switch into another position, her down on all fours, all for him to adore. And it gave him more chance to hold both her arms as he pummeled more into her.

To add a cherry on top for her pleasure, she requests him to pull her hair. The sudden demand had him raise a brow, more on in astonishment. “You seem to like that?”

“Very…”

“You’re very kinky, love.”��

“Yes, sorry…”

“I like you in every way, don’t apologize for that,” Vyn assures her, patting her head gently and then shifting to pull her hair by the scalp a bit roughly. Yule felt her walls wrap around his dick tighter at that. It tightens again at every pull of her hair with his manly hands . 

 This is more like it.   Yule had to shamelessly beam at the roughness, in contrast to the roughness, she feels loved at his treatment and him asking consent in every action. This remains in her fantasies for too long, but she didn’t expect to like it in actuality. She’s much more pleased with this outcome.

The sudden slap by her ass took her aback as well, but with the burning sensation left in her skin, it felt more pleasant than it hurts. She had to gulp on that as she felt her walls tighten around him.

It seems more obvious as Vyn lets out a low groan as he does it once again. Yule lets out an aroused squeal as she goes on to look at him, lips bitten to show her amusement. "Vil... Vilhelm,  Vilhelm , that's so good,  uhh- I like that. Yeah,  oohh... " she giggled, licking her lips as she was stuck in a daze of bliss. She was growing more amused as she kept calling out his name, moaning as sounds of sex echoed around the room. It's growing more evident how it has an effect on the man as he leans in to pepper her bare skin with kisses, leaving marks of his touches on her skin.

Vyn leans in to kiss the nape of her neck, grunting once again before speaking by her ear.

“You’re not the type to want to call your lover, ‘daddy’, hmmm?” Vyn adds the hair pulling didn’t help as it immediately puts Yule off her mood momentarily.

Yule rebuts, quickly turning her head at him to glare at him. “Hell no, I don’t want to summon Freud out of his grave.”

Vyn laughs at that. “He’s got enough resurrectors already, let’s not add to that.”

He brings back the mood, her getting immersed in the intensity of his stares as he brings her back in lying down. Everything seems perfect and comfortable all through the night as they share both of their warmth. Body to body, but the intimacy in their stares. All through the night, keeping the rhythm interesting from erratic pounding, to consistent slow. Reaching the peak together seems so undemanding with how they go hand and hand and how well-balanced they are to each other. 

So this is what it feels like to be loved? 

To be handled with such care… It feels so good.

Looking at him across the bed, Vyn seems to notice her need for body heat and he’s quick to pull her close. Even with them reaching almost morning love-making, it doesn’t seem bland to go on. 

Though, they had to rest… And what better way to end the night to be able to be intimate with him?

“You’re lucky… This is unpaid, unsolicited therapy you’re getting out of me.” Vyn jokes, Yule had to pinch him by the arm and then muzzle over her chest.

“This leans more on unethical than it is free,   Will…   you know, doing   this   type of thing with a therapist.” The new nickname for him seems a bit odd, but they’ll get used to it. 

Vyn shushes her, jokingly putting a finger on her lips. “No need to go on the explicit details, it is confidential and I assure you it’s all safe with me.”

“Okay, okay, but do expect me to have ‘another therapy’ with you, Will…” She says riding along the joke. The nickname rolls off her tongue more naturally now. Vyn pulls her deeper into the hug.

“You know I can offer another type of therapy.”

 “Hmmm?” 

“Physical therapy,” Vyn responds.

The gap in the silence and stare made them laugh, Yule had to brush her face against him to hide her blush. Her chest felt elated with his presence.

“You humor me,” she says, not able to contain a giggle.

This is far different from how things will go, and Vyn actually shares the same thoughts. Though he's willing to handle this as unexpected things have turned out.

As shitty as the night had been for a few hours, he made it better.  I might as well open up to him soon about my situation and give him a clear picture. He needs to know as well.

He’s the outlier she’s willing to accept, but unexpected things really can bring the biggest change in your life. And he seems to be a good chance for her to turn out for the better.

Looking up at the ceiling, the night isn’t as uneventful as the plain white canvas on the ceiling. Their conversation is animated by their voices as they spend the night away talking.

No longer putting her heart up her sleeve, his golden eyes are as welcoming as he stares at her. She sees a bright future with him as glowing as his eyes can be. Who knew there was a smile as that radiating directed at her?

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

[loaks-tanhi]

“Yeah…I’m just going to assume that you’ve had too much to drink. Either that, or you’ve lost your fucking mind talking to me like that. You act like a child, you get treated like one. Simple. Anything else you wanted to get off your chest while you’ve got so much liquid courage? Huh?”

— the way he just ate us up like that damn. that shut me up REALL QUICK. dont gotta say another word baby my lips are superglued together🧎🏾‍♀️👄

“When you get a girlfriend, you’ll understand how I feel. All you do is fuck girls and throw them away the next morning. You’ve ran through this entire clan TWICE. I’m surprised you don’t have a million children by now. so I’m not listening to shit you have to say.”

- OMG LMFAOOOOOO NOT LO'AK BEING SLUT SHAMED BY HIS OWN BROTHER- IM CRYING😭😭😭!!! really got lo'ak rethinking his life choices right here LOLOLOLOL

Lo’aks jaw was practically on the floor, in shock at his brothers rage.

— me too lo’ak. me too. "the woman was too stunned to speak"

He crushed the styrofoam cup, letting the drink glide down his hand before throwing it to the ground.

— UH OH 😨. Neteyams angry… yk what that means yall 🤭😝😏. lowkey turned me onn🤪

“Yes, baby. It’s time to go. Get down before you hurt yourself.” He said calmly with a lighthearted smile.

— the way hes being SOOO patient with us rn 😩🫶🏾. no! hurry up and fuck the sense back into us likeee 😋 put me in my place daddy

“You hate when I’m like this? I hate when YOU’RE like this! You always give me the hardest fucking time! I’m tired of babysitting your drunk ass! GROW UP!” He yelled, gesturing angrily, muscles flexing with every fatal word.

— youll never see me even LOOK at another drink again. 🏃🏾‍♀️ GOODBYE ALCOHOL 🍺 the way i will always imagine the veins in his arms popping out whenever hes angry like thats sooo hot 😩. lemme hump your arm pleaseee

“Huh? Say that shit again?”

— no sorry its okay i wont say it again im sorry im sorry im very very sorry.

“I said FUCK YOU. Go to fucking hell. I literally hate you, I don’t even know why we’re together right now. We’re completely opposite, and you’re FUCKING BORING! Now good-NIGHT!” You confessed

— 🫢. thats it jus ‘🫢🫢’ because??! NO WAY I JUST SAID THAT.

Neteyam was in complete shock.

“The MAN was too stunned to speak….”

“Ugh! You’re such an idiot! m-mooove!” You whined,

— AND IM STILL GOING? SOMEBODY SHUT ME UP!!!!

“Shut that shit up, right now! You must’ve forgotten who the fuck I am. So let me fucking remind you!” He growled in your ear before ripping your loincloth from your hips, decorative beeds flying all across the room.

— yall. its like my legs just parted likeee 🤭 my shit is SHUT.

“That didn’t take long. Already drunk off my cock. You’re such a fucking slut!”

— YUPP. a slut JUST FOR YOUUUU 😩😩😝😝😝😝

“This..” he started, grabbing his cock to run the tip across your lips. “Is the only thing I wanna see you drunk off of from now on…”

— YES SIR🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 NEVER TOUCHING AN ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGE EVER AGAIN. why drink alcohol, OR ANY BEVERAGE FOR THAT MATTER! when i can quench my thirst with your bioluminescent cu- lemme stop.

overall. ♾️/10 read. my bae @pandorxxx NEVA dissapoints.

Opposites Attract

Neteyam x Omatikayan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: smut, cursing, dom neteyam, brat-taming neteyam, alcohol usage, degrading kink, slapping, spitting, neck grabbing, creampie, multiple orgasms.

Synopsis: You party and drink way too much for Neteyams liking. But like the good bf he is, he always babysits you, making sure that you don’t get yourself into trouble. What happens when you become stubborn? Completely belligerent when he’s ready to go?

Neteyam was tired. Tired of you, to say the least. He loved you with all of his heart, with every fiber of his being. But he was….tired.

You were a party girl, a free soul If you will. And he knew this when he decided to claim you as his. He thought he could handle all of the trouble you sent him through every night you went out, but boy was he in over his head.

If he wasn’t prying drink after drink out of your hands, he was shielding your body from the predatory gaze of other men. He hated when other men looked at you. It made his skin crawl, his blood boil. And you made it no better with the skimpy cloths you wore. But he didn’t want to be “that” boyfriend, the type to control what you wore, or what you did. So he’d just protect you, watch for any creeps that were looking when you weren’t paying attention. And tonight was no different.

“Teyammm!” You whined, hugging him from behind as he poured himself a drink, non alcoholic ofcourse. He had to be on his P’s and Q’s with you. “What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, taking a sip of his drink as he caressed your dainty arms.

“Just onnneee more drink, please?” You asked in your whiny tone. You were on drink 3, and the hazy feeling was slowly taking over. His goal for tonight was to keep you as calm and coherent as possible, since you normally liked to black out.“No fucking way. You’re not getting blacked out drunk like you did last night. I refuse!”

He demanded, turning around in your embrace to face you.“Oh come onnnn! We’re at a party for crying out loud! You’re no fun.” You pouted, crossing your arms. He looked down at you with slight irritation brewing behind his eyes.

“Your definition of fun and my definition are two totally different things! You like to be incoherent, and that’s fucking dangerous. Half of the time you can’t even remember what the hell happened the night before. That’s irresponsible… not fun.” He explained sternly, braids swinging with every slight movement of his head.

“And who are you to tell me that I’m irresponsible? You’re not my father! You don’t have to monitor me like I’m a fucking child.” You said with the biggest attitude, looking up at him with nothing but anger. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched with brutal force. He was livid, and it sent chills down your spine.

“Yeah…I’m just going to assume that you’ve had too much to drink. Either that, or you’ve lost your fucking mind talking to me like that. You act like a child, you get treated like one. Simple. Anything else you wanted to get off your chest while you’ve got so much liquid courage? Huh?” He asked angrily, towering over your small figure as his head tilted, waiting for a response.

And nothing…you had no rebuttal. He shut you up, like he often did. All you could do was stare up at him blankly. “That’s what I thought. Now go have fun with your friends. We leave in an hour.” He spoke lowly, kissing the tip of your nose before taking another sip of his drink.

“I hate you…” you spat, glaring up at him with nothing but anger behind your eyes. He let out a soft chuckle, trying his best to refrain from choking you out right there, in-front of everyone.

“Yeah, ok. Watch your mouth.” He spoke with a slight grin, still a hint of aggression in his voice. “Go before I change my mind.” He said, pointing to the crowd of dancing na’vi. You hissed, rolling your eyes before turning around. You let your tail slap his chest aggressively before walking away from him. He hissed loudly, jaw clenched to calm himself down as he watched you walk away from him.

It had been about 30 minutes since your little disagreement with Neteyam, and you were 5 drinks in thanks to your friends. You were having the best time. Singing and dancing without a care in the world, and better yet…no Neteyam in sight. Or so you thought.

“I’m going to fucking kill her.” Neteyam spoke lowly through gritted teeth, gripping his cup so hard that the veins in his hands were so close to bursting. Lo’ak stood beside him, watching the scene in-front of him.

“They’re having fun. Why are you so fucking uptight, bro?” Lo’ak chuckled, gripping neteyam’s shoulder. Neteyam’s eyes shifted to the group of hungry males staring in your direction, and it angered him in the ways he couldn’t even describe.

“You seeing this shit?” Neteyam asked, nudging his head towards the group of males before taking a sip of his drink, this one being full of alcohol. Lo’ak snapped his head towards them, then back to his brother with a confused look plastered across his face.

“Bro. Are you serious? Everyone knows y/n belongs to you. Trust me. You’ve made it very clear. What’s the harm in just looking?” Lo’ak asked, arms out in confusion.

“When you get a girlfriend, you’ll understand how I feel. All you do is fuck girls and throw them away the next morning. You’ve ran through this entire clan TWICE. I’m surprised you don’t have a million children by now. so I’m not listening to shit you have to say.” Neteyam spat angrily, never taking his eyes off of you. Lo’aks jaw was practically on the floor, in shock at his brothers rage.

Neteyam was so focused on you that he couldn’t even give his brother the reaction he was looking for. He watched you dance erotically with your skimpy cloths, barely covering your body. The way you guzzled drink, after drink. The way you climbed on the table, practically giving every male a free show. And that was his last straw, he’d had enough. He crushed the styrofoam cup, letting the drink glide down his hand before throwing it to the ground. “That’s it!” He growled, walking over to you with long, angry strides.

You were in your own world, so much so that you didn’t even notice Neteyam glaring up at you, eyes filled with irritation. “That’s enough, get down!” He signaled with his finger, pointing to the ground. Your head snapped down at him, and an innocent smile crept across your face.

“Heyyyy babeee! I-is it time to go?” You spoke so innocently, your precious tone lingering through his mind, causing him to soften his demeanor slightly. He sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

“Yes, baby. It’s time to go. Get down before you hurt yourself.” He said calmly with a lighthearted smile. He stretched out his hand for you to grab, hoping you would just take it and not give him a hard time tonight. But as always….he was wrong.

“Nooo, 10 more minutes teyam pleaseeee!” You whined over the loud music, pouting down at him. He threw his head down in defeat, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“No y/n. I’m tired. let’s just go, baby please. Just be a good girl for me tonight. Don’t give me a hard time.” He pleaded, caressing the back of your leg as he looked up at you desperately.

“No! I wanna stay!” You spat, snatching out of his grip. That sent him off, and his desperation quickly turned into frustration, rage.

“Y/n…I’ve been nothing but patient with you. Please don’t make me snatch you up In front of everyone.” He spoke lowly, growls bubbling deep in his chest. It scared you, but you liked the challenge.

“Well, I’m not LEA-VING! Understand?” You spoke slowly, so he felt every word. And all it did was pissed him off. His breathing became rapid, his expression turned cold, and low growls exited with every hard exhale.

“Fuck! Why do you make me do this everytime?!” He growled, grabbing your legs to place you over his shoulder.

“Let me gooooo! You’re no fun! I hate you!” You whined, hitting his back repeatedly, not even phasing him. “Yeah? well I hate you too! Now shut up!” He spat, stomping off with you draped across his shoulder.

The walk to your hut was filled with nothing but hatred, terrible words spewed at each other out of anger. And once you too finally returned, the argument continued, growing larger and larger by the second.

“You’re always so fucking uptight! I hate when you’re like this!” You yelled as he plopped you down onto the bed. Backing up to take a good look at you.

“You hate when I’m like this? I hate when YOU’RE like this! You always give me the hardest fucking time! I’m tired of babysitting your drunk ass! GROW UP!” He yelled, gesturing angrily, muscles flexing with every fatal word.

“Fuck you, Neteyam.” you whispered, rolling your eyes as you laid down, turning your back to him. His eyes widened, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“Huh? Say that shit again?” He asked in a calm tone, but the anger seeped through. You turned slightly, just enough to see his enraged expression.

“I said FUCK YOU. Go to fucking hell. I literally hate you, I don’t even know why we’re together right now. We’re completely opposite, and you’re FUCKING BORING! Now good-NIGHT!” You confessed, rolling your eyes once more before turning back around, letting your eyes shut in exhaustion.

Neteyam was in complete shock. His eye twitched in frustration. Hands running across his face to refrain from putting them on you. Cracking his knuckles to release stress, but it wasn’t working. He was livid, the most angry he’d ever been with you.

You heard his footsteps creeping towards the door before it shut loudly, and then the room fell silent. Assuming that he left, you sighed and got alittle more comfortable.

About 15 seconds goes by before you’re yanked out of bed by your queue. Dragged across the floor like a rag doll.“w-what are y- ouch!- you doingggg?!” You yelled, holding the base of your queue, in fear that it would rip out of your skull.

“Did you really think I was going to let you talk to me like that? And that consequences wouldn’t follow? Huh?” He muttered through gritted teeth before flipping you on all fours, pushing your head down into the ground beneath you.

“Ugh! You’re such an idiot! m-mooove!” You whined, wiggling under his grasp. He smacked your ass hard, leaving a purple handprint. You yelped in pain, immediately stopping all of your attempts to escape. He wrapped your queue around his forearm, yanking your head back. A series of grunts, groans, and hisses escaped your mouth.

“Shut that shit up, right now! You must’ve forgotten who the fuck I am. So let me fucking remind you!” He growled in your ear before ripping your loincloth from your hips, decorative beeds flying all across the room. He untied his, letting it fall to his knees to reveal his huge cock.

“Teyam! g-go easy on me! I’m sorry, baby! I swear it won’t happen again!” You pleaded with him as you always did before he punished you. And you got punished often, for giving your mate such a hard time. You deserved it, and you knew it.

“So fucking pathetic. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already begging for mercy. Not as big and bad as you portray yourself to be, huh? You’re really just a fucking brat. And you know what I do with brats, my love!” He grunted, situating himself behind you before slamming into you with great force.

“Ah! F-Fuck Teyammm!” You whimpered, throwing your head down in his grasp. He wasted no time thrusting into you hard, and deep. Your eyes rolled back, lip in between your teeth to muffle your loud moans.

“That didn’t take long. Already drunk off my cock. You’re such a fucking slut!” He chuckled, smacking your ass once more. “S-so fucking deep! I-I can’t-“ you moaned deliriously, digging your nails into the ground beneath you.

“Mhmm you can’t what? Tell me!” He grunted, speeding up the pace on purpose, just to watch you crumble underneath him.

“T-Teyam please! s-slow downn!” You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes at the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

“You gave me the hardest time earlier! Why the fuck should I go easy on you, huh? Don’t tell me what the fuck to do!” He roared, pushing your head down into the ground.

“I-I hate youuu!” You moaned, face balling up in pleasure. “Mhmm baby, I hate you too! Now shut up, and take it.” He spoke in his sensual tone, watching your ass meet his pelvis with every thrust, bottom lip in between his teeth. He angled his hips up, ensuring that he hit your sweet spot with each thrust. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping immediately.

You lazily tried to claw your way out of his grasp, being somewhat successful before he yanked you back down onto him. You let out a high pitched scream, legs shaking from your in coming orgasm.

“Don’t run away from me, baby. I just wanna make you feel good. Doesn’t it feel good?” He chuckled, smacking your ass a few times. You knew he was full of shit, such a sarcastic fuck. He knew you were close to your breaking point, and that’s exactly what he wanted.

“T-Tooo good, Teyam please! You’re fucking killing me!” You screamed, feeling that knot in your stomach tightening.

“That’s what I like to hear. Let me speed up for you, yes?” He asked sarcastically, deepening his thrusts, and speeding up the pace.

“No FUCK! Teyam i-I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered, tears flowing down your cheeks.“Say please.” Neteyam spat, using the band of your top as leverage to rut into you deeply.

“Please please please let me cum! I can’t hold it- I-I need to cum Teyam. Please!!” You pleaded, feeling the knot in your stomach unravel slowly.

“Mmm I love when you beg for it. You wanna cum that bad, baby?” He asked with a slight smirk, watching your fucked out facial expressions.

“YES YES PLEASE! IM SORRY NETEYAM! IT WONT HAPPEN AGAIN J-JUST- PLEASE LET ME CUM!” You screamed, body starting to shake in neteyam’s grasp. He rolled his eyes, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Go ahead, cum on this dick.” He spoke lowly, and that was all you needed. Letting out a high pitched scream as your juices flowed down his shaft with every thrust.

“Thank You! Thank You! Thank You!” You moaned breathily, riding out your high. He pulled out slowly, revealing his wet cock, lines of your juices dripping to the ground beneath him. He flipped you over, pulling you down to him by your thighs.“I’m not done with you yet. You’ve been a bad bad girl. You know that?” He asked, rubbing his cock in between your soaked folds.

“I-I apologized, baby! I’m sorryyyy!” You whined, nodding your head frantically to convince him that you’ve learned your lesson. He titled his head, eyebrow cocked, mouth slightly agape as he licked his lips. Looking as if he wanted to eat you alive.

“Mhmm, you always apologize. And we always end up here, don’t we?” He asked sticking his tongue out to let his saliva drip down onto your sensitive clit, all while maintaining intense eye contact with you.

He used his thumb to rub circles into your clit, making your back bow to the ground, moaning breathlessly. He grabbed his cock, sliding into you slowly. You both let out a series of moans, before he started to pump into you at a steady pace.“Do you plan on being a good girl from now on, or am I going to have to fuck some sense back

Into you tomorrow night?” He asked, ripping your top off of you, revealing your plump breasts. “I’ll be a good girl for you, Teyammm! I-I swear!” You moaned, head thrown all the way back in pleasure.

“No baby, look at me. I don’t believe you.” He shook his head before grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Now say it again!” He growled.

“OK OK!! I’ll be a good girl Neteyam, I-I nghh!- I swearrrr!” You cried, tears running down your cheeks, to his fingertips. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away as he sped up his pace.

“Yeah that’s what the fuck I thought. Don’t ever disrespect me again! Understood?” He asked angrily, shifting both of his hands to your neck, using it as leverage to fuck into you hard. You mumbled gibberish, too fucked out to form a meaningful sentence.

“Wake the fuck up! And answer my question you fucking SLUT!” He muttered through gritted teeth, slapping your cheek repeatedly.

“FUCK TEYAM! I UNDERSTAND!” You whimpered, holding onto his wrists tightly. He threw his head back, finally allowing himself to let go, feeling his orgasm slowly approaching him. You both looked into each others eyes, nothing but moans and skin clapping filled the room.

“I-I’m gonna fill your little ass right up! Just how I like it.” He moaned, going in for a passionate kiss. He muffled your cried with his lips as he rolled his hips into yours. Your mouth flew opened, feeling your second orgasm approaching you quickly. He smiled into the short lived kiss, nodding at you as a way of letting you know to let go for him.“Ughhh YEESSSSSS!” You screamed throwing your head back as you shook violently underneath him.

“Mhmm, juuust like that. Keep squeezing my cock. Fucking milk me, baby!” He moaned, kissing your exposed neck as his thrusts became sloppy. And just like that, he painted your walls as he let out a series of moans in your ear. Thrusting into you slowly to ride out his high. You both caught your breath before he pulled out slowly, revealing his cream coated cock.

“Suck me clean, baby.” He spoke lowly and you quickly got on your knees in-front of him as he stood up. He grabbed your braids into a loose ponytail before pushing his cock into your mouth. You hungrily sucked him dry, making sure not to leave a drop behind.

“Mhmm, there’s my good girl.” He smiled, caressing your head as he thrusted into your mouth slowly, before pulling out completely. He admired your flushed cheeks, puffy eyes, and swollen lips before speaking.

“This..” he started, grabbing his cock to run the tip across your lips. “Is the only thing I wanna see you drunk off of from now on…”

Taglist: @loaksbabyy @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @viajaeger @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @thecutieyahia @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @neteyamsprincess @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @downbadforloak @loaks-tanhi @skxawngmia @s0l4rr

[hanyaksha]

「call you mine」 xiao x f!reader 18+

genre: smut

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ ONLY !

includes: fingering, creampie, top xiao/dom!xiao, wet and messy

summary: it takes a lot to catch the attention of an adepti - especially Xiao. Although still confused by the unfamilliar feeling, he's got his eyes on her around Liyue or Wangshu Inn.

'There she goes again', Xiao thought as he saw you strutting just outside Wangshu Inn, bowing repeatedly to say your apologies to the person you accidentally bumped into. You were running and seemed to be in a hurry when suddenly this man blocked the road you were speeding in, causing you and him to clash. Xiao doesn't normally care about mortal lives, it just so happened that whenever he decided to rest outside the terrace of Wangshu Inn you would always be somewhere outside catching his attention. You're either running around in a hurry or working your ass off trying to make a living by selling sweets and delicacies that somehow became the favorite place for kids around town to visit.

'how clumsy. human lives really are fragile.' he unconsciously thought to himself as he continues to watch from a distance. He saw how you laughed it off with the man you accidentally bumped, how it was easy for you to smile and radiate a warm aura. In his eyes you looked pure. Xiao compared himself to you and scowled at the thought that he could never be someone like you. He feels his chest tighten as he gets reminded of his own demons, his past and all of those who he slaughtered with his own hands, the bloodbath forever painted in his memory. Frowning, he sighed and decided to shrug the ugly feeling off. His eyes wandered around, unconsciously trying to look for your familiar aura only to find you gone from the last spot he saw you standing. With nothing else to do, he kept searching until he caught a glimpse of you from a distance near Dihua Marsh, gliding around with Venti as he creates wind currents for both of you to fly on.

'ah, the bard' he thought. You two were having fun and he can tell you're enjoying yourself just by the look of how you laughed. Xiao felt calm watching you simply being you. Even if it's from a distance, a part of him craved for that warmth somewhere close to him. He wondered what it would feel if someone like you would share that to someone as tainted as him. Xiao glowered when he realized that he was longing for a human. He stopped himself from thinking any more than that. There was no need for you to be involved with the likes of him, it would only make him feel worse knowing that he would be of no good to you. He didn't want your pure glow and warmth to fade away because of him. Xiao sighed and decided to walk back in the inn where he would rather rest to keep your memory out of his head. He had known you for quite sometime now, despite it being from a distance it was surprising that he felt like he had met you. It wasn't difficult for him to somehow feel comfortable seeing your presence outside the Inn. He loved the way your clothes would flow against your body, how your skin looks soft under the sunlit sky. You looked ethereal, he simply adores that and is unknowingly thirsty to get a taste of your gentle touch. Despite refusing to involve himself to mortals he still grew a liking to you, making you an exception. He convinced himself that he doesn't have any time to meddle with a human's life yet his thoughts and actions contradicts this. He feels like he's about to lose his mind as scenarios of you and him fill it up. Xiao leaned back to his chair, throwing his head back as he massages the bridge of his nose. He looked like he couldn't bear to think more of you or he'll go insane. It wasn't enough to just simply think of you - he wanted your presence, he wanted it near and he wanted it now.

Xiao growled and glared at the wall. Standing up, he went out of the Inn. He decided to just come get you himself. He realized how long he was lost in his thoughts when he noticed the moonlight outside. He didn't mind it and just continued to venture out in search of your familiar scent and aura, hoping he'll catch a glimpse of you somewhere near. It didn't take long until he saw you close on a cliff just outside the parameters of the Inn, desperately trying to reach out to the violetgrass you were trying to harvest. Xiao stayed hidden in the branches of a tall tree, hesitating and rethinking his actions because he was unsure of how to interact with you. He was worried he would just scare you away since he was, after all, a vigilant yaksha adeptus. He noticed you struggling to take a hold of the particular flower so he decided to take matters in his own hands and to just help you with it. Xiao leaped and swiftly took it as he landed beside you to hand it over. Surprised by how fast everything went by, you stared at the man in front of you, his golden honey eyes glimmered from the soft light of the full moon added by the glow of the Wangshu Inn from a distance made everything perfect. He was breathtaking, you felt your heart pounding as you reached out to take the flower from his hand. You knew who he was, mainly because you would often hang out with Venti to ask about him. There was something about this adepti that made you want to learn more about who he was. People in Liyue says that he rarely shows himself, even during the Lantern Rite Festival you find yourself hoping for him to come out. And now lo and behold, he's right in front of you - the man you have always hoped to meet.

"thank you," you gave him a slight bow to show your gratitude for his help. You were also extremely worried that he might hear the loud beating of your heart because of how quiet the night was. "it's dangerous to be out here at this time." He said, his voice as cold as the wind blowing. You smiled and chuckled at him before you replied "my bad, I wanted to help out Baizhu because he needed some Violetgrasses. They ran out of it and I couldn't let Qiqi do it herself" you feel Xiao's gaze piercing at you so you look down and felt a shiver ran down your spine everytime the wind blowed. You didn't know what he was thinking, he's unpredictable. His gaze didn't show a hint of what was on his mind. "you're cold. come." your face immediately flared up when he reached out his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy when you felt your bodies touch. Xiao summoned his primordial jade spear as he tightly held you close, you felt a sharp cold all over your skin as you closed your eyes and the next thing you know, both of you are at where it seems to be like the Wangshu Inn. The view was amazing from Xiao's quarters, you can see Mt. Qingce and Jueyun Karst far in the distance under the night sky. He was standing right beside you, an arm still around your waist and as you're busy admiring the view outside, Xiao was preoccupied studying your features. He thought your hair smelled nice, and that the shape of your body fit right in his arms. It was amazing how he made you feel so comfortable despite just meeting each other.

"you feel familiar... and your warmth, I'm drawn to it." he says with a straight yet calm voice. Xiao was doing his best to stop himself from just throwing you on the bed and be one with you. As much as he wants that, he wouldn't want you to feel unsafe around him. He didn't want to hurt you either because he knows what his strength is capable of. Blood rushed to your face as embarrassment seeped in by hearing his words. Maybe it was because he felt the same way as you did that caused an uproar to the butterflies in your stomach. Still quietly standing there, you were unsure of what to do. You were cautious that your actions might come off as rude or disrespectful to an adeptus like him. He studied your expression and slowly turned to look away and fixed his gaze on the painting to his right instead. "are you afraid?... do I scare you?" he calmly asked. It was almost as if he was ashamed of himself in which you immediately denied to. "of course not! It's just that I want to be closer to you but I'm afraid I'll make you feel uncomfortable. I really am happy to be here." you tried to reach out to touch him but decided to stop in your tracks, your hand left hanging in the air. A part of you wanted to comfort him, to close that gap between the two of you but at the same time you didn't want to cross his boundaries. Xiao didn't know what to feel, it has been a while since he felt happy and he thought he almost forgot this type of emotion. He's very new to this kind of thing, he hasn't done this to any other woman besides you so he although he didn't want to admit felt slightly embarrassed about opening himself up to you. Xiao fixed his gaze to meet your eyes, his honey orbs shining in the moonlight leaving you mesmerized by his beauty. He was breahtaking and you could feel his eyes burning holes in your body. It was as if he wanted to say something but just couldn't--just hoping you would get the memo through eye contact. Xiao broke the tension to look at your hand still in the air. You noticed him staring and as you were about to place it back down he caught it with his own and laced his fingers into yours. Embarrassment started to wash all over you. You wanted to yank your hand back but you knew you'll immediately miss his touch if you do so. Unconsciously you bit your lip to stop your face from turning into a complete replica of a tomato. Seeing that sight of you drove Xiao crazy, the eagerness to be closer with you grew faster as every second passes by. Xiao isn't usually the type to be the first to make a move but he yearned for you so much until he could no longer take it. He acted without thinking twice and went in for a kiss, his hands slowly going up to cup the back of your head to pull you closer. You were surprised but you soon didn't have the time to care about it because of how easily you got drunk by his kisses. It was obvious Xiao didn't have much experience in this, his kisses were sloppy but at the same time it was gentle. It was slow and he took the time to explore your mouth as his tongue slipped in. Your knees trembled as the tension around the two of you grew, any further than this might make your legs give in. You clinged on to him as your knees felt jelly, Xiao groaning in the process in response to your sudden shift of movement.

Hearing him groan was the cherry on top for you to go insane. It was too much and you feel your body heating up as both of you grew more needy of each other's touch. With one hand cupping the back of your head, Xiao placed his other on your waist to pull you closer. Your bodies touched as he continues to make out with you, he pulled you in so close that your boobs are all pressed up against him. You groaned when you felt his boner, driving Xiao crazy when he too felt stimulated. "mhm," he moaned, hand gripping tighter on your waist. You were so close that you can't help but grind on his hardened member while both of you moaned in each other's kisses. Xiao held on to your thighs, pulling it up to carry you. You felt his dick graze on your clothed pussy, the friction making you dripping wet. Xiao carried you and laid you on his soft bed, making sure that your head would be supported by a pillow underneath. He was caring despite his hungry kisses and you blushed at the thought of him being thoughtful for your well being. Xiao didn't waste any time after he laid you in bed, he reached out for your clothes and slowly stripped you out of each garment, planting hickeys here and there as his hands traveled on your sensitive body. "mhm... Xiao...more.. please--hngh" you tried to beg only to be cut off by your own moan when Xiao decided to place his lips on your nipple, his free hand groping the other. "be a patient good girl for me." he cooed. Xiao was emitting such lewd sounds as he sucked on your nipple, his other hand slowly making its way down to your already wet cunt, his fingers kneading slow circles on your folds. You squirmed and moaned underneath him, your knees folded and closed due to the sensation. "how sensitive.. so pretty." Xiao nibbled on your lips before using his hand to pull your knees apart to allow him to move his fingers easier. He wanted you wide open for him, all stretched out for him so he can feel you dripping for him. You arched your back when you feel him press his digits on the folds of your pussy, slowly prodding on the entrance while his thumb was kneading on your budding clit. You tightened around his fingers, each move heating you up as you craved for more. Xiao kept planting hickeys around your breasts, occasionally sucking and licking on your nipple while his fingers played with your pretty little cunt.

"hngh... want you.. Xiao--ngh" you begged. Any more of his stimulation might make you cum, especially when he knew exactly where to touch you down there. Xiao ignored your plea, still insisting on teasing you. He liked the idea of being in control and having you weak for him with your mouth open while you moan, eyes shut, hands gripping on his hair and back arched while your pussy is being played. He used slow motions to play with your folds and the insides of you, making sure that he touches the right spots to send shivers down your legs. "no.. ngh.. Xiao.. faster--please" you pleaded breathlessly. But Xiao was strict and stubborn to his actions and instead of obeying to your wishes, he switched from sucking on your nipple to nibbling on your ear. "so needy." he whispered as he curled his fingers inside you and made small circles on the walls of your pussy. You were a moaning mess, he hit your g-spot so good that you tightened around him. You feel it building up inside you, if he keeps going any further you might just come on his hand right then and there. Xiao used his two digits to spread and carress the walls of your pussy, giving you no choice but to just moan harder to the sensation. "Xiao--nnghh I might.. I--" Xiao cut you off, his lips shutting you up as he kissed you torridly.

"Not yet." his voice was stern and strict. It felt more like an order that you had to obey or else you'll face consequences should you wish to disobey him. He pulled out his fingers before you reached your limit. You feel your cunt throbbing, eagerly craving for him to fill you up. Xiao sat back to strip himself, his hands finding its way to grip on your knees to keep it wide open for him. You took a good glimpse of his cock, tip already dripping with precum. You wanted it in so bad. Xiao wasted no time and began to grind the tip of his member on your clit, making sure that his dick is coated by the juices of your wet pussy. Your moans echoed in his room, he was teasing you and he did it nice and slow, making you more and more impatient. You wanted to beg, to make him hear your pleas but you did your best to remain patient and do as he ordered. After a while of more teasing, he loomed over you. His hair was falling on his face as he prompted himself over you and you swore the sight could make any woman in Teyvat lose their sanity.

"good girl." he burrowed his face in the crook of your neck and planted soft kisses on it, his hands carressing your torso and groping your breasts all while at the same time making you feel the tip of his cock enter your pussy. You were so wet and it wasn't even his whole dick inside you yet, the stimulation just drove you insane and knowing that it was Xiao fucking you was enough to turn you into a moaning hot mess. You feel the tip slip in and you arched your back as you moaned. He was all over your body, making sure that his hands and lips were planted on your skin so you don't forget his warmth. He kept teasing, only letting the tip in and grinding it in the entrance of your dripping cunt. "hngnh.. Xiao.. please--ughn, I want it.. in-" It was this familiar feeling again. Any more of his teasing and you might just come. It was just too good and a big part of you just wanted his whole thing stuffed in you. "hmm.. so impatient." he cooed, his lips brushing on your neck and all the way down to your shoulder. He planted one last kiss on you before sitting back up, his hands now gripping on your knees to spread them wide. He took his member out and held it, using the tip to gather the slick dripping from your cunt before shoving his whole dick in. Moans were the only thing escaping from your lips, head filling in with ecstasy as Xiao pounds his cock in you. He was going in so fast and deep, the curve of his cock grinding on the pulsating tight walls of your wet needy pussy.

"ngh..." his moans were a major turn on and you paired it up with your own sets of moans too, making it the only sound being heard in the room other than the sound of skin slapping from being fucked hard by an adeptus. The pounding of his cock inside you was enough to bring you to cloud9. You reached out to his arms and hugged him close, your fingers digging on his back as his thrusts grew faster. The built up orgasm you had from all his teasing earlier was coming back again but you paid no mind to it and continued moaning. "oh! Xiao... there.. deeper---there!" he went in much closer to you, face buried beside your neck while his hands travelled down to grip on your butt, raising it up a little so he could hit the deepest parts of you better. His cock prodded on your walls that was now tightening up more than before. You were so good around his member, your pussy enveloping every part of his throbbing dick inside you.

"Xiao.. coming.. hnngg--" you wrapped your legs around him to pull him closer, wanting every inch of him go deeper as you neared your orgasm. "Go on. Come for me." he said it with his raspy panting voice right in your ear and licked it as he rammed his cock in a slower but deeper pace. Once again you were a moaning mess, helplessly calling out his name in between moans. You spasmed as you came, toes curling in and your fingers drawing lines on his back as you digged them in his skin. He let out the sexiest moan as you feel his load being shot inside you, deliciously filling you up and the rest dripping out at the entrance of your creaming pussy along with your own cum.

You lay there breathlessly under him, your head still high up in the clouds. You feel him panting beside you and he proceeded to hug you as he rolled over to the side, not minding that his cock was still stuffed inside you. You liked the sloppy feeling of your pussy dripping with his cum and his dick coated by the creamy walls of your hot cunt.

You hugged him back, snuggling in close to him and slowly drifting to sleep. You felt him kiss your forehead after a while and his hand cupped the back of your head to pull you closer to his chest. You had the sweetest dream that night and you couldn't be any more happier than knowing that you were wrapped in his arms during your sleep.

「hanyaksha © 2021」 all content belongs to me. please do not modify, edit, or repost.

[charliehoennam]

vindicated

A/N: Request put in by @rachelh1992​ I apologize once again for taking a long time to get to this. Had to time some time to recollect myself from the turbulence in my life, but I hope you enjoy it, hon!

Warnings: 18 & over only!! | Emotional angst; unprotected sex (please stay safe when you do the ol’ boots to Jesus people); smut; NSFW content; some yelling; heated argument.

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!reader

Word count: 2,005

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Molded together, your hips move swiftly with one another, rocking with the slow rhythm of post-orgasmic high. The natural scent of your bodies is entwined with the floral essence of your hair products and the minty soap Frank refuses to splurge on. You wish he would just once allow himself something good, something that could bring him well-earned internal joy no matter how small it might be. Creamer to the usual bitter coffee he takes; decent body wash that could convince him to linger just a couple of minutes longer in the shower. Unfortunately, this is how Frank believes he should live. The bare minimum is what he deserves and it's all he needs, although it’s hard to agree on when you care for this man with your whole heart. You don’t want to change him; you simply wished he could allow himself to be happy again.

His fingers ball into the hair at the back of your head as his relentless lips part open with a whiny moan. His heavy breath fans over your smile as you both sooth your respiration down. Lying on your side, you’re face to face with his coffee brown eyes while his bruised knuckles wander up the thigh you’ve got draped over his hip, pulling you close. His softening cock rubs against your plush pussy lips and you relish in the warmth it radiates as your shoulders pull away just enough to gaze over the details of his face. You’re smiling like a couple of idiots as if this were your first time.

“What, you realizing how ugly my mug really is up close? I warned you, doll. I’m prettier when you’re drunk-“

“Frank, I love you.”

The silence seems to fill him with the same dread as it does you. His shoulders tense almost warning you to rethink what you just said. Mentally, you think those three little words already explain everything but he’s looking at you like you just grew another head out from your neck. In other words, his entire system is internally malfunctioning.

“What d’you just say to me?”

“I-I said I love you...”

He frowns lifting your leg off of him as he sits up, swinging his legs off the bed and instantly reaching for his underwear and jeans.

“You’re confusing things, doll.”

It’s the change of tone that simmers your blood, the sudden coldness that reminds you of the soldier he was bred to be.

“Don’t try to tell me what I feel. I know what I feel,” you mimic his action and sit up clutching the cotton flat sheet to shield your bare chest, “and I’m not saying this just to hear you say it back.”

“Oh, don’t gimme that, y/n. You dunno what you’re talking about here.”

“I know exactly what I’m talking about, Frank. I’m not this naive little angel you build me up to be.”

He scoffs standing up once his heavy boots are strapped on his feet and strides across the room to pick up the sweater he’d tossed earlier.

“I just don’t think you see the difference here, y/n.”

His curt stern response normally would be enough to make you lay off, leave the discussion for another day. But not today. You weren’t expecting him to say it back right off the bat, that didn’t matter. You just wanted to let him know that someone genuinely cares about him; you randomly think about him during the day and wonder how he’s doing, if he’s taking care of himself. That’s it, why does that have to be so hard to understand?

“I am not a fucking child, Frank! I know the difference here!” you argue taking a deep breath to calm yourself as your hand tossed your hair to the side. “I know you’re not ready to say it back and if you never are, that’s alright. The love I have for you is simply yours. No one can take that, no one can replace you.”

“Those words don’t mean nothing when they’re said after sex.”

“Having sex and making love are NOT the same. I get that, but it doesn’t mean you can’t love someone you have sex with.”

“Yes, it means exactly that.”

You watch as his arms stretch the fabric of his sweater to engulf him and conceal the scar-riddled muscles.

“It doesn’t have t-“

“Yes, it does!”

His sudden burst of impatience freezes you solid. Not out of fear – Frank would never lay his hands on you in a violent way and you could bet on that – it’s the shock that overwhelms your senses. He’s never yelled at you or even cut you off, he’s careful about little things like that. He's seen too many interrogations to know that's exactly how you belittle someone and the thought of you being afraid of him is terrifying. He knows he’s not a saint, but he doesn’t want to be a monster in your eyes which is why regret is clearly visible when he hangs his head low with a long deep exhale.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at cha like that.”

“Frank, I do love you. And it hurts to see you push away things you deserve. I’m not talking about just me. If you don’t think you can ever love me, that’s fine. Would it hurt? Yeah, a little because I do wish you could feel the same. But I would move on eventually. It doesn’t have to be me. What tears me to pieces is the thought that it will never be anyone.”

His eyes soften instantly when he looks back over his shoulder at you. You know he’s mentally telling him to be tough, but it’s no success.

“I just want you to be happy, Frank. That’s it. That’s what love is.”

“And why the hell would you be in love with me?” his voice is the opposite now, low and calm and dripping with self-loathe.

You crawl off the bed hugging the sheet to your chest as it drags behind you until you’re standing in front of him. He lowers his head in an attempt to avoid your eyes, but the hand you cradle his cheek with allows you guide his gaze back into your orbs as you dip and allow his forehead to rest against yours. His instincts force his hands to find your waist and reel you in closer.

“You’ve done bad things, Frank. But you’re not a bad guy whether you wanna believe that or not,” you explain as his eyes drop to watch your lips move. The mental struggle is undoubtedly present in his thoughts judging by the clenching flex of his jawline, but he gives in when the hand of his cheek slides to the nape of his neck; an intimate touch that never fails to render him vulnerable when it comes from you. “You’re worth caring about, you’re worth loving. And if I have to, I will remind you of that every single day for the rest of my life.”

His vast hands inch upward as they spread on your back. The tenderness of his kiss and touch is so warm and welcoming that you forget the thin fabric preserving your modesty. It drops to your feet as your arm lifts to drape over his shoulder, palm pressed to the top of his spine.

Your nails graze the back of his head, scratching soothingly on his fuzzy short-haired scalp. He’s melting at the warmth of your mouth and you know this from the way his hands tug you in, pressing your chest against his. Lips churning slowly, he leads you back towards your bed and sits at the edge of it.

He refuses to let the kiss break when he kindly tugs on your thighs, inviting your naked form to straddle his lap. You can’t get enough of his addicting taste, of how sublime the groans you lull out of him are.

History repeats itself. You strip his sweater off his broad frame and let him catapult it to another corner of your bedroom. Balancing yourself with your knees against the sheeted mattress, your hips lift when his knees knock against your ass when he desperately kicks his boots off.

You slowly fall back together in your heated moment. It doesn’t take long until his jeans fall over the leather shoes, allowing your pussy to grind comfortably again his hardening cock clothed by his boxers.

“It’s okay, Frankie… I got you” you whisper to reassure him washing away any residue of fear he may have.

Your lips work their way down to his neck, nibbling and suckling tenderly. Every touch on his skin twists his heart to surrender himself completely and for once, he lets himself indulge.

Slowly sunk low on his cock, you begin to work your pace. Moans helplessly ooze from you as you move your hips up and down, savoring the burning stretch his cock provides. You let yourself settle at the base for a moment before easing your wet cunt up and down the length of his throbbing limb.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he hisses as his eyebrows pinch in the middle. “Always feel so good on me.”

You smirk, filled with the gratifying emotion of giving him pleasure. Knowing you can allow him that outlet is the greatest praise you can receive. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the smile that creeps on his lips when you clench around his sensitive length, offering a sweet escape from his painful reality.

Your hands splay out on his firm chest for stability while his calmly work at your sensitive nub. His thumb circles and swipes over it while his other hand kneads your breast, shifting back and forth from one to the other.

His eyes glue to you as you ride him into ecstasy; until he’s coating your slick walls with his spunk and relishing in the gush flowing from your pussy. He hisses and gasps reminding you of the fucking goddess you are, worshipping your body like a shrine as though his life depended on it. The dim radiance of the ceiling light glows from behind your silhouette, forming a warm aura that only illuminates the transcendence you beam onto him.  

You can’t help but smile at how vulnerable and exposed he looks right now. Amazement plastered on his face, cradling your cheek as if you’re made of fragile ethereal glass. He draws you closer to rest against his front and kisses the crown of your head as you catch your breath, lacing his fingers into your hair. His eyes close as he cherishes the rare display of intimate affection you so willingly exposed to him with an open-heart. He admired it just as much as he admired you for the courage to tell him how you really felt.

Frank was very well-aware of the crippling effect you had on him, but what he hadn’t realized was the strength of the hold this effect had on him. Restarting his life was an option he wasn’t even sure could ever be possible. The violent vigilante lifestyle didn’t allow him to find peace; when he did, it never lasted for long and usually having his loved ones suffer. The past always finds a way to catch up to him.

He wants to say those words back to you. He wants you to know that he loves you too. But to him, those three little words have become a condemning curse. You’re the only good thing about him and he doesn’t want to lose you, he’s lost so much already. So he clings onto you for dear life as if you’ll float up through the ceiling and drift away from him forever swallowed by the gray clouds of dusk. However, it takes a lot of effort but he’s able to swallow the lump in his throat and push those thoughts from his head to embrace the sweet moment he refuses to taint with regret.

“I got you too, doll… I got you too.”

[criminalmindzjunkie]

I Carry Your Heart With Me (Part One)

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Summary: Spencer and the reader are reunited for the first time in fifteen years. 

A/N: Very excited to get the ball rolling on this one. I hope you all enjoy it! Message me if you would like to be added to the taglist.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 4.5k

“I cannot believe you talked me into this,” Damien mutters from the passenger seat, his icy blue eyes wide with fright. He pulls his gaze away just long enough to point at a lone cow grazing to the left of the road. “Look! That cow is just like… standing there. No fence around him or anything. What’s stopping him from stampeding into us the second we get out of this car?”

Damien sounds so genuinely horrified that you almost feel bad for laughing. Almost.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, Dee. Besides, that cow didn’t even look up when we drove past. We’re not even on its radar.”

“Oh, yeah? Ever heard of a little thing called mad cow disease?” Damien persists, in typical dramatic flair. You roll your eyes at him and he curses underneath his breath. “You know, when I agreed to go with you to this wedding, I pictured something more akin to a five-star resort with a minibar and a heated pool. Not rogue livestock and shitty cellphone reception.”

“You didn’t agree to anything – you practically begged me to take you with me.”

Damien waves his hand, dismissive, his eyes still roaming over the pasture. “Because I wanted an excuse to take a week off work. This is not the controlled environment I expected.”  

“If you don’t quit complaining, I won’t hesitate to push you out of the car and leave you here with the cow,” you retort. In your periphery you’re able to make out Damien raising his middle finger to you. Rude.

You chuckle and fix your attention back on the dirt road. You’re driving almost painfully slowly, because the very idea of having to pay extra for damages to this already astronomically expensive rental car makes you feel nauseated. Despite your efforts, the car is covered entirely in dust. Its once pristine, white paint job has transformed into a muddy color.

There goes my deposit.

You shake your head at the thought. You had more pressing matters to concern yourself with; i.e., the fact that you were approximately five minutes away from coming face to face with the one person you swore you’d never speak to again. Two months seemed like ample time to prepare yourself in theory, but now that it is no longer some far-off thing, you know that your attempts at preparing yourself were in vain. With each day you crossed off the calendar leading to your departure date, your anxiety grew and grew until you worried your poor heart would give out under the stress. Getting onto the plane bound for Montana felt like the proverbial nail in the coffin, and a hefty dose of Dramamine was the only thing that kept you from spiraling as the plane ascended into the air. You slept through the entirety of the trip and, much to Damien’s chagrin, there is a sizeable puddle of drool on his left shoulder to prove it.

The lengthy nap helped. The tight band constricting your chest had loosened, and you pulled out onto the highway feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. You had Damien by your side and five vacation days to enjoy. Your best friend was getting married to the love of her life, and you were hellbent on standing by her side through it all. Spencer Reid can kiss your ass, as far as you are concerned. No way is he going to ruin this for you.

You are still very much clinging your take-no-shit mentality when you breach a hill and the ranch comes into view, effectively expelling every single positive thought from your head. Aforementioned anxiety reappears in full-force and you stomp down on the breaks.

“Fuck, I don’t think I can do this,” you squeak out, casting a look at Damien, whose eyes are trained on the sprawling expanse of the house ahead of you. “We can still turn around – no, we should turn around. There is no version of this that won’t end in me getting embarrassingly drunk and crying in front of everyone. I’m turning around.”

Damien’s hand on yours, strong and steady, is the only thing that keeps you from whipping the car around and retreating with your tail between your legs. His fingers pry your white knuckled grip off of the wheel slowly, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles across your skin. Its sweet and so overwhelmingly gentle that you’re a bit stunned. You glance at him in a silent question, as if to ask who are you, and what have you done with my friend?

He gets the message loud and clear, because of course he does. Damien fixes you with a smile, grip tightening on your hand.

“I’ve seen you hold your own against some of the biggest names in journalism on an almost daily basis – looking damn sexy while you do it, might I add,” Damien chuckles, and you can’t help but give a weak laugh of your own. Damien’s smile grows at this, and he continues, “If you can handle your business against those conniving pricks, I’ve no doubt that you can tough it out for this. You’re not the type of woman that lets some guy dictate what she does or doesn’t do. And you sure as hell aren’t the type of woman that would let some guy rob her of the opportunity to stand by her best friend on the most important day of her life. As the person who probably knows you better than anyone else on the planet, my opinion of you is pretty rock-solid, if I do say so myself. So, unless I’ve completely overestimated the extent of your badassery, I suggest you rethink that plan. What do you say?”

You avert your eyes and swallow against the lump in your throat.

“Spencer’s not just some guy. For a long time, I was convinced that he was the guy,” you whisper. The car is silent, save for the quiet crooning voice of George Michael flowing through the speakers. Damien squeezes your hand, prompting you to continue. You blink up at him with wet lashes, lips pulled into a sad smile. “Have you ever been in love?”

Damien shakes his head and rubs his thumb along the top of your hand. “I can’t say that I have, babe. Haven’t been that lucky.”

You let out a shaky breath and bring your other hand up to wipe at your eyes.

“Maybe you’re better off. I’ve only been in love once,” you gesture to your pitiful appearance and choke out a wet laugh. “Look where that got me. He fucking crushed me, and fifteen years later I’m still broken up about it. It’s pathetic.”

Damien frowns and shifts in his seat so that he’s fully facing you.

“I don’t want to hear you say that self-deprecating shit again. You were hurt by someone you gave your heart to, and I can only imagine how devastating that must feel. Being upset about seeing him again does not make you pathetic. The fact that you’re here, about to spend a week with the guy just so you can be there for Cassidy, is pretty damn admirable as far as I’m concerned.” Damien ends his monologue by pulling you into a tight hug, and you couldn’t be more thankful that he’d come with you. Not only was he a secret sweetheart, he also gave the very best hugs.

By the time he releases you, the tension in your chest has eased significantly. You nod once, and Damien’s rewards you with a smile.

“I am pretty cool, aren’t I?”

Damien snorts rather unattractively and rolls his eyes.

“I take back everything. You suck, and I don’t know why I bother with you, you narcissist.”

Now that the mood has lifted significantly, you reluctantly press your foot against the gas pedal.

“Too late. No takesies backsies,” you singsong. “You think I’m sexy and badass, and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

Damien mutters something undoubtably snarky underneath his breath, but it’s drowned out by the sound of gravel crunching underneath the tires. That, and the sound of your blood roaring in your ears as you inch further down the driveway.

The house, a beautiful log cabin with stone accents along the underside, is massive. Standing at two stories tall with a large wraparound porch and more than a dozen large windows, it’s a far cry from the modest little cabin in the mountains that Cassidy had made it out to be. Even Damien is slack jawed at the sight of it, sitting pretty against a back drop of rolling mountains, and you can’t help but feel a little smug.

“Still want to complain about that five-star resort?”

Damien shakes his head dazedly, “I retract my earlier complaint.”

All too soon, you roll to a stop and put the car in park. Several other cars are parked haphazardly in the grass around you, and that annoying voice inside your head wonders which one belongs to Spencer. It’s not that you care – you totally don’t – it’s just that you are kind of hoping that he hasn’t arrived yet. A few hours to acclimate to the environment before having to deal with him would be nice.

“You’ve got this, babe,” Damien murmurs. “And I’ll be with you the whole time, just in case you need a reminder.”

You flash Damien a nervous smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Dee. I’m really glad that you’re here,” you say, before narrowing your eyes at him. “If you tell anyone I said that, I’ll deny it.”

Damien snorts and pushes open the door.

“Get your sassy ass out of the car. I’m ready to mingle.”

As soon as you set foot on the porch, the front door flies open and a flash of curly red hair precedes a collision that nearly sends you flying back into the railing. Ecstatic squeals rip through the otherwise serene evening air and two boney arms envelop you into a tight hug.

“I cannot believe you’re actually here,” Cassidy laughs as she squeezes you tight. Her enthusiasm has you joining in, the two of you laughing happily and pulling back to examine one another. Cassidy places a sloppy kiss to both of your cheeks before throwing an arm over your shoulder. “I fully expected you to just blow off the whole thing, if I’m being honest.”

You cast at Damien, who’s watching on with an amused grin on his face.

“Believe me, she tried.”

Cassidy turns her attention to Damien and extends her free hand.

“I take it you’re the infamous Damien that I’ve been trading emails with?”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, “Wait, what? The two of you have been emailing?”

Damien accepts Cassidy’s hand and gives it a firm shake, all while smiling smugly.

“Yep. Me and Ms. Cassidy go way back.”

“I mean, that’s cool, I guess, but why?”

Cassidy and Damien share a look, both of them shrugging.

“Mainly to talk about you,” Cassidy admits, not even bothering to look apologetic. When you frown up at her she waves her hand dismissively at you. “All good things, I promise. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Cassidy punctuates her words with a patronizing pat on your shoulder.

“I knew letting you two meet was a bad idea,” you grumble.

Cassidy simply drops her arms from its place on your shoulder in favor of tugging on your hand.

“Come on, sour puss. I want you to meet my husband. He’s a real sweetie – you’re gonna love him.”

A flash of white-hot panic shoots down your spine and you dig your heels into the floor.

“Wait,” you squeak out, eyes wide. “Is… Is he here yet?”

Cassidy’s eyes shine mischievously, briefly flitting up to Damien before returning to you.

“He is. And you’ll be happy to know that pictures do not do the Good Doctor any justice.”

Salt, meet wound.

“Don’t know why you’re telling me that,” you mutter.

“Denial is not just a river in Egypt, my friend,” Cassidy singsongs as she begins tugging you forward. For someone so tiny, she makes easy work of forcing you through the threshold.

The foyer is just as impressive as you expect it to be – beautiful cedar walls and a grand staircase that leads to the second floor. If you weren’t horribly on edge at the current moment, you would definitely comment on the fact that the foyer alone is probably larger than your entire apartment, but you’re too busy scanning the immediate area for tall skinny white guys with stupidly curly brown hair to comment on the grandiosity.

Cassidy leads the two of you to double doors to the right, and just as she’s about to push them open, the shrill ring of your cellphone offers you an out.

You slip your hand from Cassidy’s grip and give her a faux apologetic look.

“I should probably take this – it might be work.”

Damien narrows his eyes at you. “I thought you left your work phone at home.”

You ignore him and begin taking a few steps backwards, “Is there somewhere private I can go?”

An indiscernible look flashes across Cassidy’s face and then her lips pull up into a sugary sweet smile. “Follow the hallway to the very end. Leads to the back porch,” she says. “No need to rush. Take all the time you need!”

Okay, weird, you think to yourself, but the idea of putting off the inevitable for a few extra moments is too tempting to pass up, so you continue your retreat. You make it to the back door in record time and let out a relieved breath as you bring the phone to your ear.

“Hi, mom.”

“Hi, baby. I was just calling to make sure the two of you got there safely.”

You push open the back door and the breathtaking view of the ranch prompts you to take pause; sprawling fields and rolling hills as far as the eye can see, grazing livestock congregating near a lazy stream at the far end of the property, and several horses running across the expanse of the left field. It was wonderfully serene and vastly different from the bustling rat-race that was New York.

You smile to yourself when a loud moo rips through the otherwise quiet ranch. I could get used to this.

“Yeah, we made it,” you murmur into the receiver. “You would love this place, Mom. It’s probably the prettiest place I’ve ever been. I’ll send you a picture when I hang up.”

“How’s Cassidy? Still a little spit-fire, I assume?”

You lean against the railing and let out a snort, “Oh, absolutely. Don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“I’d hope not,” your mother hums. “How does Damien like the ranch?”

“He’s not exactly a fan of the livestock,” you chuckle. “Damien’s never even seen a real cow before. City boy through and through, that one.”

You and your mother share a laugh that dissolves into a comfortable silence. Comfortable, until the telltale clearing of your mother’s throat warns you of the impending inquisition.

“So,” your mother begins. “Are you going to tell me how it went, or are you going to leave an old woman wondering? “

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “Fortunately, I have yet to run into him. I may or may not be hiding out on the back porch as we speak in an attempt to avoid just that.”

“Y/N,” your mother chastises. “Prolonging the inevitable isn’t going to make this any easier.”

“I know, I know. I’ll go in there soon. It’s just a lot, you know? I needed to take a breather, first.” Just until my hands stop shaking. Or until Cassidy comes hunting for me. Whichever comes first.

“I know, baby,” your mother coos. “I’m proud of you for trying. Just don’t drag things out, okay? You’ll only make yourself sick with nerves.” Unfortunately, that ship has sailed. The rolling in your stomach can attest to that.

           You laugh a humorless laugh, “I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

           A tiny movement at the very corner of your vision and a loud creak makes you whip your head around, and what you see has your heart falling to your ass.

Spencer Reid, looking absolutely stunning in a pair of khaki dress pants and a white cable-knit sweater, sits in a porch swing with wide eyes and a book clutched tightly in his hands. Soft, caramel-colored curls frame his face and a five o’clock shadow runs the length of his jaw, adding a bit of grown-up flare to his otherwise boyish features.

He looks every bit as beautiful as he did on the day he broke your heart.

--

Spencer knows that he should have spoken up as soon as you walked onto the porch. It was immediately obvious that you hadn’t seen him, and he swears he’s one second away from clearing his throat and launching into the introduction he’d been planning for the last sixty days. But the words die on his tongue as he drinks in the sight of you.

You’re so close to him for the first time in years and it’s more than a little bit dizzying. And yeah, he’s used his very limited knowledge of how the internet works to Google you on more than one occasion, but the version of you leaning against the porch railing is a far cry from the pixelized one. A light breeze rolling through the air lifts your hair away from your face, and Spencer’s breath catches in his throat as he surveys every perfect inch, from the curl of your lashes to the smattering of freckles on your nose. He indulges himself, eyes settling on your cherry red lips, fascinated by the way they move as you talk on the phone. Spencer is intimately familiar with those lips – can recall the way they felt pressed against his own. The years spent apart have done nothing to dull the memories. He’s not entirely sure if that’s a good or a bad thing.

It amazes him how you’ve somehow managed to change a lot, but also not at all. You stand before him as an oxymoron personified, and it’s a lot for Spencer’s poor heart to take in. Your hair is a bit lighter than he remembers, as well as a little longer, but it still looks just as soft and he can recall with startling clarity how it felt when he used to run his fingers through it. You have a few more laugh lines than you did, as well as a scar on your left elbow that hadn’t been there before, but everything else about you is so painfully familiar that Spencer could almost pretend that no time had passed – that he still knows your body as well as he once did.

Spencer knows this isn’t true. Every seven years, the body resets; old cells destroyed and replaced with new ones. You’ve both spent enough time apart that your bodies have reset twice over. You’re as much of a stranger to him as he is to you.

Spencer positively abhors the thought.

The sound of your laughter pulls him from the depths of his mind, and while the laugh isn’t warm or inviting in the slightest, he relishes it. What was once one of his favorite sounds has existed in his head as only a memory for far too long. Hearing it in person is jarring in the best of ways.  

The euphoria he feels dies a horrible death when you speak again.

“I don’t know, Mom. You always like to remind me how stubborn I am. I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I can just avoid him for the entire week.”

Fucking ouch.

Spencer cringes hard, too hard, because the porch swing screeches out an angry creak and you whip around and holy shit, have your eyes always been that entrancing?

He watches as your entire body goes rigid, tensed as if you’re about to bolt. You blink hard, eyebrows drawn together to form an adorably bewildered expression as you assess him. Spencer hopes he doesn’t look too disheveled. He hadn’t even thought to freshen up after his trip, an oversight that he’s regretting terribly as your eyes flit over him.

Spencer isn’t sure why, but he stands up. Maybe it has something to do with feeling vulnerable. Maybe he just wants to close the distance. The two steps he takes towards you support the latter. He’s thankful that you don’t move away, but the blank expression on your face worries him.

The two of you stand five feet apart, but you feel worlds away. Spencer refrains from speaking for as long as he can stand, which is only about thirty seconds.

“Hi.”

Your lips part, and Spencer holds his breath.

“Hi.”

More silence. Spencer gulps.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, cautious. The last thing he wants to do is fuck up within the first five minutes. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth seem to have some sort of disconnect, and Spencer continues against his better judgment. “It’s been a while.”

It’s been a while? That’s seriously the best I can come up with?

Spencer contemplates drowning himself in the nearby stream.

“It certainly has.”

“Five-thousand, five-hundred and seventeen days.” And roughly thirty-six and a half hours, but who’s counting?

Muted noises flow out of your phone speaker and you pull your eyes away from Spencer. He’s both relieved and devastated.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I just ran into someone. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

Spencer agonizes over the fact that he’s been reduced to someone while you and your mother exchange goodbyes. You’re smiling when you look up at him again, but Spencer’s seen what a genuine smile of yours looks like, and this isn’t it.

“I didn’t see you sitting there. My apologies.” Your formality makes the situation all the more excruciating.

Spencer lets out a nervous laugh, “I suppose avoiding me is out of the question now, huh?”

It’s hard to tell who’s more horrified by the words that tumble from his mouth, you or Spencer. A fierce flush spreads across your cheeks. It’s the first crack in your otherwise calm and collected exterior thus far and Spencer relishes in it. Maybe you’re not as unaffected by him as you seem.

“I… I’m sorry you had to hear that,” you stammer, blinking up at him with guilty eyes. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can’t say that I’m undeserving of your anger,” Spencer whispers so quietly that he worries you don’t hear him over the gentle flow of the stream. The hardness that returns to your eyes lets him know that you heard every word.

You clear your throat, signaling your unwillingness to discuss that particularly painful topic. “You’re still partial to Cummings, I see.” You gesture to the book clutched tightly against his chest.

Now, it’s Spencer’s turn to blush. The book in his hands, tattered and worn from years of use, is incriminating. The two of you both know what lies just beneath the binding. The fact that Spencer has it with him now makes him think that he might as well be wearing a t-shirt that reads, I’M STILL NOT OVER YOU.

Spencer raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. Old habits die hard, I guess.” His eyes scour your face for a sign of anything that might clue him in to you feeling the same way. A flicker of something dances across your face, but it’s gone so quickly that he can’t be sure if he imagined it. He forces a nervous smile. “If I remember correctly, he was your favorite.” It’s a shitty attempt at a joke.

You exhale a shaky breath and to his absolute horror, your lower lip begins to wobble. He wishes he could reach up and pluck his words from where they hang heavy in the air.

“Not anymore,” you murmur, and fuck if that doesn’t absolutely wreck him.

Spencer shouldn’t ask, but he can’t help himself. “Oh. Why not?”

He holds his breath, anxiously anticipating your next words. You seem to be battling with yourself, mouth opening and closing several times. Spencer is content to wait as long as it takes for you to answer, but the universe is much more impatient than he.

The door leading onto the porch swings open and out walks an honest to God Abercrombie and Fitch model. Or at least, a man who meets the qualifications and then some. Long, flowing blonde hair and a crisp white dress shirt makes Spencer’s unruly brown mop and dumpy sweater look pitiful in comparison. Spencer frowns.

“Sweetheart, you’ve been out here for like ten minutes,” the man chastises as he closes the distance between you and him. Spencer watches him wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you to him like someone might watch a car wreck happen; with equal parts horror and morbid curiosity. “You can’t hide out forever.”

All traces of rigidity leave your body and you melt into the man’s side. It happens in such a way that screams familiarity, as if the pet name hadn’t already driven that point home. The awful, gut-wrenching realization slams home and Spencer has to fight to keep his knees from buckling.

“Uh, sorry,” you mumble, before nodding your head in Spencer’s direction. “Damien, this is Spencer Reid.”

The man’s – Damien’s - eyes go almost comically wide as they settle on Spencer’s dejected frame, before schooling into a cool indifference. He offers him a polite smile that’s a little tight around the edges, but doesn’t outstretch his hand.

“Ah, Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Spencer swallows hard to keep himself from barking out a crazed laugh. He’s heard of me! That’s certainly something, considering the fact that no one thought it necessary to tell Spencer that you have a –

Spencer’s eyes dart down to your left hand. Thankfully, mercifully, your ring finger is bare.

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” The words burn as they roll off his tongue.

Damien nods at him before turning back to you. There’s an unmistakable fondness in the way he looks at you as he speaks. “Cassidy wants everyone back inside. They’re about to serve dinner.”

You smile up at him, not even casting a parting glance at Spencer before Damien leads you back inside. Spencer stands there long after the door closes behind the two of you.

The book feels heavy in his hands.

-

-

-

-

taglist:  @is-this-even-important @evelyncade @usuck​ @m0rce1ddd​ @bauhousewife​ @whxt-to-write​ @spencerwaltergubler​ @lovesicksofi​ @idgafayiowf​ @shadyladyperfection​ @mercy-burning​ @sapphic-prentiss​ @itsmytimetoodream​  @m0rce1ddd​ @bauhousewife​ @whxt-to-write​ @spencerwaltergubler​  @enchantedcruelsummer​ @no-honey-no​ @inkstainedwritergirl​ @tnoh13​ @xxconfettiitsaparade​ @calm-and-doctor​ @muffin-cup​ @fortheloveofcriminalminds​ @arcticrory​ @holl2712​@themanwiththreephds @blameitonthenight21​ @stellabelle​ @me-a-hopeless-romantic​ @musicxlover97 @anightflower​ @andiebeaword​ @annesauriol​ @haylaansmi​ 

[dreamwritesimagines]

i KNEW something was coming after all the fluff we got from you last chapter- i would like to blame everyone asking for angst bc i did NOT ask for this- honestly cherie should've just joined cecily and elias and hugh at the trenloves' house :(( and to think it started so happy!! you play with our feelings dream 😭😭 anyway i'll TRY to comment on the lines as i did when i was first reading them but the later knowledge and HEARTBREAK will make it harder for me :((

“We will go there earlier for preparations,” the Duke said. “Us, Miss Cecily’s family and the Bridgertons.” okay this was a bad idea BEFORE the thing in the study happened smh it's Iike they WANT anthony and cherie to have their little affair

Maybe you could be unchaperoned again. cherie i know this is offensive but honestly you ARE acting like a walking scandal rn-

“She just told me to come and get her if she doesn’t come here by noon,” Elias said and grinned. “So I will go and get my future wife by the noon.” elias is honestly the cutest when in love i knew there was a reason i always used to prefer mr bingley over mr darcy (something that has been ruined by having to extensively analyse the text 😭😭 i still love mr bingley a LOT though)

The Duke took a look at him over the newspaper he was reading. “You did shout it out of the windows last night, Elias.” the duke is once again being iconic af i love him

“I’m drunk on happiness,” Elias said. “I am to marry the love of my life, I think the whole London should know that. Can you believe that she agreed to marry me? Me!” elias being mr bingley aka a golden retriever aka the cutest human being alive 2.0 also this just reminded me of that one scene in pride and prejudice (2005) where bingley is seen to be practicing his proposal to jane with mr darcy and if that wasn't last chapter- (yes im ignoring the angst my reminding myself of the fluff before)

Maybe it would make him think about you and him. Since you were lovers now, it was obvious that his approach to love was changing and surely seeing a wedding would make him rethink about marriage proposals as well. do you know how HEARTBREAKING this is to read after the study scene?? dO YOU??

“Five weeks and then I will have ultimate happiness.” Elias grinned and you and the Duke exchanged glances, unable to stop smiling at the look of utter delight on Elias’s face. okay but the duke and cherie finally bonding and it being over elias's happiness is the cutest thing to happen ever hopefully this whole thing with anthony will at least bring her closer to her family?? hopefully??

“Y/N, I don’t know anything about this,” she whispered. “I was not raised to be a marchioness let alone a duchess, I do not have the training that Lady Miriam had for example.” awww i feel so bad for cecily she's BETTER than miriam and comparing herself will only make her sad :(( she deserves better than feeling like this :((

“My lord?” Elias sounded almost offended all of a sudden. “Cece, I think we can drop the formalities now, I don’t want to be called my lord by the love of my life.” every time elias says love of my life my own life force is renewed again and i believe in the power of love and friendship to conquer all

Elias didn’t even blink as he turned to Cecily. “We can just round that up to ten?”

actual footage of elias leaked

“Considering how right I was about this union, I do not understand how you two keep fighting me on anything, honestly. Everyone should just always do what I say without question to save us time.” i mean to be fair she isn't WRONG-

“Would you excuse me and my betrothed for a moment sister? I’d like to make sure I convinced her.” i know we keep on calling anthony a slut but damn this entire friend group just consists of manwhores huh

You were almost halfway done with her list of basic needs for her when she knocked on the door and opened it, making you look up. Her hair was slightly disheveled compared to a couple of minutes ago, there was an excited gleam in her eyes and her lips were swollen as if— you know my first reaction was oh shit cecily will find out in no time now that she knows the pleasures of kissing and the appearances afterwards but i guess she won't find out soon after all!!

“Um—Elias and I will go by my house together to talk to Hugh, would you like to join us Y/N?” once again she should've just joined them dream this is an unrealistic reader i would have taken any possible chance to spend more time with hugh-

“No one can be unkind to you,” he said, his voice quiet with fury, a dark shadow playing in his eyes, “Ever.” yknow i was going to say something about this being hot or something like that but i can't anymore it's too sad now

“Do you remember what you were like when I started courting Daphne?” Anthony rolled his eyes at him. “I remember very well what you were like, Simon.” okay all things aside i love simon standing up for cherie as if she's his own sister she deserves an army of older brothers (i'm pretty sure once hugh gets a gist of what went down he'll join the cherie protection squad)

You held your breath, looking at Anthony who looked way too uncomfortable all of a sudden. the look of a man who knows he's about to be EXPOSED

Elias had done what? okay but to be fair elias TOLD her he asked all of his friends to dance with her and planned it perfectly

“I’d die for Eli but that girl is a walking scandal,” Simon cut him off, making you pull back, your stomach churning in pain. “Your words, not mine. You said and I quote, God knows what example she got from her mother while she was in France, and I’ll have to dance with her.” okay but IMAGINE if cherie was somehow in england earlier and had SOMEHOW overheard it- it would for real be pride & prejudice 2.0 with elizabeth overhearing darcy and him falling in love within 2 seconds of actually meeting her

“But there are no games,” Simon’s voice snapped you out of the haze of anger. “Are you sure about that?” i will once again say go simon!! yeah you're ruining this whole ship but out of wanting to protect our girl!! this is theoretically a good thing!!

“I’ll see you in the drawing room, Daphne and I have news for the whole family.” okay but a baby?? possibly?? yes i know it's off topic but??

“No one can be unkind to me, is that right?” you managed to say through frozen lips and he stepped closer to you, making you step back. this is the exact moment people could HEAR my heart break my poor cherie :(( just marry hugh he never would've said anything like this

“I’ll scream,” you bluffed, glaring up at him, trying to wring your arm out of his grip. “People will find us here unchaperoned, and you will have to marry me then.” you know it's so so sad that she was so convinced it'd be like an actual punishment for him

“Go ahead,” he dared you, a shadow crossing his eyes. “I think Simon is still within earshot. I’ll get the special license, we will be married in a week. So go ahead and scream, get everyone here.” it's even more sad that if they had married now there would've been NO way of convincing cherie ever again that he loved her-

“I never want to see you—” your voice echoed through the foyer, your accent getting stronger, “Or talk to you again, ever!” Oh No™ we know shit is about to go down if something echoes through the foyer

Lady Bridgerton, Eloise and Benedict were by the stairs, completely frozen at the sight of you two but Lady Bridgerton was the first to overcome her shock. okay but these are also like the three WORST possible people in the house to catch them- (save for like simon 😭😭) i cannot wait to find out their reaction after they actually had time to process this

“Anthony,” she said, her voice possessing a forced calmness in it, “Let go of her at once.” oh she's like MAD mad like anthony is going to be in real trouble very soon- that said, will we have an extra scene/headcanon of the aftermath in the bridgerton house??

“You will have to excuse me Eloise, I will not be joining you and Pen today,” you managed to say before turning to Anthony. “But I suppose that’s a good thing. After all, you wouldn’t want to be seen with a walking scandal, would you?” okay shots FIRED i don't want them to fight but also i can't wait to see more of cherie roasting the shit out of anthony

You didn’t even wait for anyone to say anything as you turned around and stormed out of the house, the last thing you heard before the door closed behind you was Eloise’s voice rising in anger: “Anthony, what did you say to her?” okay yeah anthony is going to be verbally beaten up by like half of his family isn't he- i kinda feel bad for him even though he deserves it?? like he has GROWN cherie pls don't be stupid for long-

“Is everything alright?” Lucie asked softly as she reached out to rub at your back, trying to calm you down and you let out a breath, biting inside your cheek until you tasted blood. oh no :(( knowing cherie she'll try to keep this hidden from cecily too as to not deprive her of any happiness in this period so once again she'll only have lucie to lean on and though i love their friendship cherie probably needs a licensed therapist at this point

thank you for this chapter (though it broke my HEART) and i hope you won't mind me walking over to team hugh once again <33 anthony needs to go stand in a corner and think about what he's done but cherie needs to realise people can change their minds about things she's a stubborn ass and though we've been comparing elias and anthony to mr bingley & mr darcy, cherie has some of elizabeth bennet in her too!! anyway i'll stop analysing all the intertextuality considering i've been obsessed with pride and prejudice these past days and would find dozens of connections where there technically are none- anyway, i am ACHING for the next chapter!! have a wonderful few days until then <33

Omg Merel loveeee!❤❤

Angst is going to be so much fun😏

I feel like if what happened didn’t happen, it was going to be very easy for Anthony and Cherie to sneak around at Stormview because Anthony has been there multiple times when he was a kid, he knows all the secret passages and what leads where😈

Cherie had plans!💔

Wait why was Mr Bingley ruined for you? I’m curious!😱😱

Elias is definitely a golden retriever lollll😂

Cherie was actually hoping he would proposeeee and then….😈💔

Cecily is going to be under so much pressure but luckily he has Elias who worships the ground she walks on❤❤

Elias has zero idea about how gown shopping works, he just throws money at modiste whenever he’s told😂

i know we keep on calling anthony a slut but damn this entire friend group just consists of manwhores huh  I AM DYING AT THIS-😂

YES! DEFINITELY YES!😂

And that was their first kiss!❤❤

once again she should've just joined them dream this is an unrealistic reader i would have taken any possible chance to spend more time with hugh OMG I JUST-😂

she deserves an army of older brothers (i'm pretty sure once hugh gets a gist of what went down he'll join the cherie protection squad) Oh I think she will have it and when Hugh hears…😏

Oh yeah, Elias told her but he didn’t say he forced Anthony😏

Everything between them would’ve been over before it started if she heard it before😱😱

just marry hugh he never would've said anything like this He really would’ve never said anything like that, you’re right!❤❤❤

Omg yeeeees! She was convinced that would be a punishment and-

Can you imagine if they did end up getting married? Like, if she screamed? 😱That would be so complicated and there’d be so much angst, I love this idea!😍❤

All 3 of them will be furious with Anthony!😏

Yessss, we will have a HC with it! It’s coming today!❤❤❤

Things changed for him for sure, like he has grown but implying that about her mother…. Like, Cherie is extremely sensitive about that😏

cherie probably needs a licensed therapist at this point SHE REALLY DOES!😂

Wait you’re team Hugh again?😂❤

Elizabeth Bennet is awesomeee and I totally see what you mean!❤❤

Omg darling this is absolutely amazing, I LOVE THIS! THANK YOU SO MUCH, ILY!❤❤❤

[mimzy-writing-online]

Dear Mimzy, I can't begin to tell you how happy I was to find your advice on how to write a blind or visually impaired person respectfully. Thank you so much for doing that. It was very helpful. I'm currently writing a book and I'm about to start the editing phase. I'm writing you to ask if you would consider being a beta reader of mine? I'll pay you, of course. You can write me on Instagram: mettepeleikis if you're interested. Once again thank you for your helpful blog. - Mette

PART 1/2: Mette again. Even if you're not interested in beta reading my book, I do have some questions that I haven't found the answers to on your blog. I hope you can help me by giving me your opinion on these two things. 1. The love interest of my MC loses his sight from a head trauma accident (I did read you advice against that but it's unfortunately not something I can change now) but do you consider that "victimizing your blind character" like when you mentioned rape?

PART 2/2: Gosh, I'm sorry for spamming you. Here's my second question. I never wanted to cure my blind character, but I did have in mind that a surgery could partially restore a bit of it. Just enough for him to see a bit of color. Do you think that is as bad as curing them when partially restoring his sight? Thank you so much, Mimzy. Best, Mette

Mimzy answered: I’m so happy I could help your writing process! Hearing that I help makes every day much better, especially since this is part of what I’ll be focusing on in school.

I am considering taking a few beta-reading contracts in the winter between school semesters. I am going to put a note down with your Instagram contact.

As for your first question, I recently made a post going in-depth about writing whump and using blindness for plot purposes. It has far more depth and nuance to the subject than my initial post did in 2019, largely because that was (still is) a topic I struggle to talk about.

(The following paragraph is useful advice to all writers, not just Mette)

The concern about head trauma being the cause of blindness stems more from how rare it is compared to natural causes of blindness. Glaucoma, Macular Degeneration, Cataracts, and Diabetic Retinopathy are the most common causes of vision loss. The head trauma route is also a big sign that the writer took the lazy way out of researching the cause of the character’s blindness, which suggests to the reader that the character is more of a prop than a character. The best thing you can do to avoid this sentiment, avoid inaccuracy and insensitivity, is to deeply research the specific details of the injury and how that will affect your character’s vision.

I found an article for you with a wide variety of specific injury types that can follow a traumatic brain injury. It will be a good starting point in your individual research.

What Mette is describing doesn’t sound like victimizing, at least not as I would personally define it. Victimizing would be using the character’s trauma and blindness to teach the main character some kind of lesson, very much like the trend of violently killing off female characters to push the male protagonist’s storyline.

The message a plotline like that sends to a blind reader is that how our blindness affects our loved ones is more important than how it affects us, that we’re a burden to our loved ones, and that our feelings about vision loss don’t matter because we’re a plot device for our family’s story.

Or using the character’s blindness as a way to “set up” a plan to hurt the character. An example would be the character getting kidnapped and not realizing they were being stalked because of their blindness. A good exercise to test if you’re falling into this trap would be to ask yourself “if this character was a drunk teenage girl, would this look like victim blaming?” If the answer is yes, then you need to rethink that plotline.

The message this plotline sends is that being disabled makes you an easy victim to assault, that it’s only a matter of time before it happens, that it happens because you’re disabled and that it’s somehow your fault.

It’s also a reminder of a terrifying but very real statistic of how common it is for a disabled person to be a victim of a crime. I found a webpage discussing it if you’d like to further educate yourself.

So there’s a big difference between an author exploring the trauma around sudden vision loss, and an author turning that trauma into shallow dramatics for entertainment purposes. One has the chance to make you feel seen, and the other makes you feel objectified.

Ask yourself how your story compares to what I’ve described and if/how you can do better.

To answer your last question, I’m not 100% sure. Realistically, if offered a chance to surgically improve your vision when you were in the early stages of learning to adapt, you might very well jump at the chance. Some might, but there are plenty of reasons why you might decline the surgery. It’s very likely you might develop a phobia against medical care (iatrophobia) following a traumatic medical experience, and perhaps avoid doctors and medical procedures at all costs, even if it means potentially allowing conditions to get dangerously worse before seeking help. If your story is based in America, chances are that a procedure like that will be too costly, even with insurance. Double-check medical care costs in the country the story takes place in if you’re not sure. Hearing that the surgery might risk you losing more sight with very little promise of returning your vision, especially long term, would be a big motivation to decline. Resentment against how doctors and loved ones focused on wanting to “fix you” instead of helping you adjust might be a reason to decline. (It certainly was for me, especially when the proposed solution wouldn’t completely improve my vision. This was prediagnosis) Being far enough into your recovery due to a great support system and therapy might also be a reason to decline the surgery, stating that you’re happy with life as is.

Personally, I would hate to lose my color vision. Vibrant colors make me absurdly happy. However, if I did lose my color vision and a specific surgery was proposed to possibly restore it, it’s highly unlikely I would accept for almost all of the reasons stated above.

It’s a subject that will require more than one sensitivity reader, and possibly asking people within the blind community how they feel about that. A variety of responses will help you explore the nuances of the plotline.

I always recommend @blindbeta as a sensitivity reader because I love their work discussing different blind characters in media and their advice posts.

Thank you for the positive feedback, it made my night :)

(after post notes: dear god I hope this is coherent. This was written between the hours of 1 and 2 am. Yeah, this blog is called the Late Night Writing Advice Blog for a reason. Also (@ everyone, I shared some personal feelings tonight, please treat that with respect)

[libraryofloveletters]

Hi! I have a request! I hope that’s ok! Can it be Y/N of course! I would like the scenario to be where Y/N is Spencer’s daughter? I just love that concept with my entire heart! Anything else with that! Mostly, happy stuff! If not no worries :)

Growing Up 

Dad!Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of child birth, mentions of drinking and being drunk, crying 

Category: fluff so much fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: I love this idea!!! I know you said just a scenario but I got a little carried away. Also, this picture is just adorable so it’s here :) There’s also big jumps in time because I didn’t want it to be too long. Hope you like it! 

---- 

It was no secret that Spencer Reid wanted to be a father and that he would be an excellent one too. The day he found out his wife was pregnant was the happiest day of his life, or so he thought. 

That all changed the day you were born, the first time he held you changed everything. 

The Day You Were Born 

Spencer stood beside your mother, holding her hand as she pushed. “One more push baby” he whispered to her as she squeezed his hand. He brushed her hair from her face, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re the strongest person I know” he mumbled into the side of her face. She gave him a weak smile as the sound of crying filled his ears. 

“It’s a girl” the doctor said, wrapping her in a little pink blanket after wiping her down a bit. “Would you like to hold her Dr. Reid?” Spencer nodded as the doctor placed the little pink bundle in his arms. 

Spencer was in awe. Never did he think something so small could make him rethink his entire life. He leaned down and rested your head on your mother’s chest so she could see you. 

“She’s beautiful” she smiled up at Spencer. Spencer handed her back to the doctors so they can clean her up and check that she’s alright. He held your mother’s hand

“I can’t believe we made that” 

3 years old

You were now a toddler, sassy and talkative is an understatement.

Your mother had brought you into the BAU to visit your father. You ran into the bullpen, colliding with someone’s legs. You looked up to see your uncle Aaron, he smiled at you and crouched down to your level. “Hey princess, what are you doing here?” he asked you as you hugged him. “I wanna see daddy!” you shouted as Aaron picked you up and swung you around. You were now perched up on his shoulders as he walked you around the BAU. 

Your parents were at your dad’s desk, Spencer waved to you as you giggled because Aaron was pretending to drop you. Aaron put you down on Spencer’s desk, you pulled him into one more hug before he ruffled your hair and went back to his work. 

“Hi baby” Spencer smiled at you, picking you up and putting you on his lap. “Hi daddy!” you smiled back at him. 

“Did uncle Aaron show you around ?” 

You nodded resting your head on his chest as he smooth your messy curls with his hand. “Is someone tired?” Spencer asked you, you shook your head. “Good because Penny has cookies in her office, do you want to get some?” 

“Yes!” you shouted and hopped off his lap. Off you go running again, you had been to the BAU multiple times so you knew where everyone was. You got to Penelope’s office and waited for Spencer. Your aunt Penelope explained to you that to get into her bat cave, you needed a special pass that only your dad and your aunts and uncles at the BAU had. 

Spencer swiped his badge and opened the door. Penelope’s chair spun around to the sound of the door opening, Derek leaned up against her desk. “Y/n! my angel baby! Come here!” her arms were stretched out for you to give her a hug. You ran into her arms, she gave you a hug and picked you up. 

“Daddy said you had cookies” you looked up at her

“Dr. Reid! you let the secret slip!” she looked at him

Spencer shrugged with a smile on his face as he reached for one of the cookies. Penelope gave you a cookie which you gladly expected. 

“What happened lil mama? Uncle D doesn’t get any love?” he picked you up from Penelope’s lap. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You had a special bond with Derek, you could tell that him and Spencer were close and even as a child you knew that. 

14 years old

You were in that weird phase where you were barely a teenager but you weren’t an adult either. Spencer didn’t know how to act around you, sometimes you missed him and wanted to be with him but then sometimes you were grumpy and didn’t want anything to do with him. 

“Sugar, dinner’s ready” Spencer called from the other side of your bedroom door. You didn’t answer him, you were too busy with your homework. You started high school and you were so caught up in the newness and the fast pace that you kind of forgot about everything else. 

Spencer knocked once more, after he got no answer he opened the door and stuck his head in your room. You were at your desk, typing away on your laptop and grumbling about something. He smiled, the way you threw yourself into school and anything you did always reminded him of himself. 

“Baby” he walked over and rested his hands on your shoulders. You jumped, you hadn't heard him come in. “What dad?” you mumbled, going back to your typing.

“Take a break, come eat dinner with me.” 

“What? No, I have to finish this” 

Spencer shut your laptop screen. “DAD! What the hell ?!” He pulled your chair away from your desk, “Either you get up or I'll drag this chair down the stairs with you in it” he told you. You rolled your eyes, he was a huge pain in your ass but you knew he meant well. You got up and walked out of your bedroom, he smiled 

“Good choice, your work will still be here when you get back.” 

20 years old 

You were totally shit faced at some college party. Your boyfriend broke up with you and you were, well, going through it. You couldn’t find your friends so you called the one person you knew would show up, you father. 

“Daddyyyy” you slurred over the phone 

“Y/n? Are you okay? Are you drunk?” he asked you quickly, you could hear the panic in his voice and some fumbling.

“Come get me” you fell over, now leaning against the railing on the frat house

“I’m on my way. Stay exactly where you are” he told you and hung up. 

It wasn’t long after that you saw him and your uncle Derek walking up to you. You were so drunk and so tired that you could barely hold yourself up. “Dad, uncle D” you mumbled trying to get yourself up, the two of them came over and helped you up. One arm over your father’s shoulder and one over Derek’s, Spencer helped you into the backseat before him and Derek got into the car. 

“What happened tonight mama ? You usually aren’t like this. I know you can have fun but c’mon, what happened ?” Derek asked you. 

Spencer knew you were too drunk to give a proper answer, he remained quiet as you groaned from the backseat. He would ask you what happened tomorrow after you sober up a bit. 

“He left me” you mumbled 

“Who did ?” Derek asked you 

“My boyfriend, he slept with the college whore” you laid down on the backseat. Spencer looked back at you through the rear view mirror before making a U-turn. “Whoa, where are we going? it’s 3 am and you live the other way” Spencer said nothing to Derek and continued driving. 

After a while, he stopped in a parking lot. He opened the backdoor and helped you out. “What are we doing here?” you asked, the 3 of you stood in your favourite diner’s parking lot at 3 am. 

“Pancakes and coffee until you sober up and then you’re going to tell us what happened between you and this boy.” Spencer told you. You hugged him, it meant the world to you that he would do something like this for you, meant even more to you that now you were drunk and emotional. 

27 years old

You were getting married today. Your best friend hooked the last button on your dress and you looked in the mirror. “Beautiful” she told you and gave your shoulder a squeeze. 

“Can I come in?” Spencer asked from the other side of the door while he knocked. You nodded to your best friend and she opened the door. Spencer saw his little girl standing there in her wedding dress and couldn't help but tear up. He promised you that he wouldn't because “if you cry then I'll cry” but he couldn't help it. 

“Sugar, you look gorgeous” He hugged you and you hugged him back. “I can’t believe I'm walking you down the aisle already, it felt like just yesterday you were born” he smiled at you as the two of you walked to your position. 

The music started and everyone stood up. You saw your fiancé at the altar, your mother in the front row with your grandparents.

All of your friends, your fiancé’s family and then you saw your family.

Derek and Penelope stood together, his arm was around her as she wiped away her tears and blew you a kiss, Aaron was beside Penelope with Jack.

Rossi and Krystall stood together with Luke and Matt, who had his arm around Kristy. Tara, Emily, JJ and Will are in another row. 

They were your father’s family and they became yours too. 

“You’re all grown up now but you’ll always be my little girl. Don’t forget that” he whispered to you, you nodded. 

“I love you dad” 

“I love you too sugar” 

[theshelbyclan]

Not Alone

Summary: You’ve just gone through a very difficult breakup and feel lonelier than ever. But with the help of Ada’s wise words and some family traditions, you start feeling just a little better

A/N: A sweet anon requested: hi luv!! can you maybe do a bit of the brothers or maybe ada helping the shelby sis after a very hard breakup? i'd kinda appreciate the words right now 🥺🤍 Hope this helps you in any way and if it did happen to you, much love from me also! Also, I am in no way an psychologist or an expert on what to in break-ups, because they simply suck, but I tried to do the best I can. I hope you like it

Words: 2328 *** “What’s with Y/N?” John asked out of the blue over dinner. Arthur looked up, mouth filled with potatoes, “What? Why?” “She doesn’t eat,” commented the brother who never ate himself. 

So Aunt Polly fixed him with a glare, “Must be a family thing…” “She never even touched her pie,” John continued, “She always eats pie.” “Finn?” Tommy asked, “Tell us what’s wrong with her, eh?” The youngest brother evaded his family’s looks and mumbled something along the lines of, “Why are you asking me?” “You know everything that goes on with Y/N,” Polly now shifted to the other brother and said in her characteristically low voice, “Spill.” “Remember that boy from down the road?” Finn started carefully. “There are lots of boys down the road…” “You mean the Irish kid, blonde, tall, went to school with Y/N?” Polly caught on quicker. 

Finn hesitated, “Yeah… well, Y/N’s been kind of seeing him?” “Arthur, John, you kill the Irish kid,” Tommy was already standing up, “I’ll deal with Y/N.” “Sit down, Tommy,” Ada sighed, “Finn isn’t finished yet, is he?” “How the bloody hell would you know?” Arthur questioned. “Because seeing an Irish kid won’t make Y/N go off her food,” their sister explained, “But breaking upwith an Irish kid will, right, Finn?” “Right…” Tommy sank back down into his chair and sighed deeply. “Should we still kill the Irish kid, Tommy?” John asked innocently. “Hang on, John boy,” his eldest brother stopped him, “I’m the oldest. I should talk to Y/N first.” “You really shouldn’t…” Polly mumbled. And when Arthur got up, nervous but certain at the same time, Ada quickly pushed him back down in his chair again. With this, a certain sibling rivalry awoke in the Shelby household. With Ada up the stairs, the brothers quickly followed and even Finn was hot on their tails. All except Polly, who knew none of this would actually help. And while you’d locked yourself in your room, planning to spend the evening on your own and feeling particularly sorry for yourself, the bursting in of five siblings didn’t exactly help. “Fucking hell,” Arthur said, as soon as he saw your tear-streaked face, his nostrils flaring in sudden rage. John looked more helpless than ever, mumbling, “Why are you crying over that bastard…” Tommy stayed back and lit a cigarette in de doorway. But Finn looked from you to Tommy and his face was getting redder by the second, until he finally hissed, “Can I do it now, Tommy?” “Go,” his brother gave him permission, “but take Isiah.” Only Ada responded directly to you, as she sat down next to you on the bed and pulled you into a warm embrace, “What’s happened, sweetheart, you can tell us, eh?” “He left me…” you mumbled into her hair. “That’s it, I’m going to bloody shoot his balls off!” “Arthur, calm down, Finn is taking care of it,” Tommy soothed, but it didn’t comfort you at all. Ada looked at her unhelpful brothers full of scorn and almost shouted, “Well, is anyone going to add something that might actually help Y/N? Because if not, kindly get the fuck out!” “What can we do?” John asked gently. But you just shrugged, still locked into Ada’s arms.

“Well, you’re the fucking oldest, right? Go on!” John urged Arthur on.

So Arthur started, with all the best intentions in the world, which was the only thing that could calm him in this very moment, “The thing is, we human beings are made up of different things…”

You send a look of uncertainty across the room towards Tommy, who returned your gesture with one lifted eyebrow that said: yeah, I have no idea either.

“Like, when we lose someone, it’s like your head, it’s out of balance. So you need to balance it out again.”

“Arthur,” John asked bluntly, “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Like when John here lost Martha! He had to learn to live without her and it took him a lot of time, also because he has fifty kids, but mainly because he had to balance his head out again. And that takes time!” Arthur got more enthusiastic in his speech with each sentence, “It’s a chemical thing, like… like with cocaine!”

“Cocaine?” you repeated, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, cocaine,” he looked nervously around the room filled with incredulous faces, “Cocaine brings you up, while whiskey brings you down, right? You need both. You understand? You need to find the balance.”

“Are you suggesting our baby sister does cocaine?” a harsh voice suddenly asked.

“No!” Arthur called out, “Fucking hell… I’m just saying, accept that it takes time, because the chemicals in your body need time to adjust and that takes a while…”

Deep down, you knew Arthur meant well. Hell, he even had a point in a way, but he wasn’t great at getting his point across.

So John tried, “When Martha died, I did grieve. And I had to rethink life without her, you know? And especially with four, that’s four, kids. It was like I had lost a part of me.”

“So how did you do it, John?” you asked, looking up at your brother.

“Honestly, I was drunk all the time.”

Tommy rolled his eyes almost audibly and sucked on his cigarette in the doorway.

So you fixed him with a stare, “What about you, Tommy? Any brilliant advice from you?”

“Nope,” he simply said.

And a sudden anger flared up in you, “None at all. So, you don’t even care, do you?”

Tommy stared at you for a few moments and then he turned to John, “Go out to the fields near the Black Patch, where the vardo is. Get a fire going. I’ll be there in an hour. Go on, John!”

Being emotional in front of your brothers was one thing, but feeling like they were ignoring you made everything even worse. As you felt the tears welling up again, you got so annoyed and mad at yourself that you needed to take the anger out on someone. So you turned to Thomas again, but before you could open your mouth, he’d turned around already and was making his way out the room.

Completely defeated, you slumped on your bed and seriously considered throwing yourself out the window.

“How do you feel,” a softer female voice asked and you realised you weren’t actually on your own.

So you frowned and tried to explain, “You know that feeling when you drop a glass of water and within seconds it splashes and then just…disappears?”

“Yeah,” Ada said gently.

“That’s how I feel.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell them?” you scoffed, “Well, you just saw how well they handled it…”

Ada nodded for a second, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to,” you shook your head, “I have no idea what to do with myself now.”

So Ada sighed, lit a cigarette and gave it to you, “You’re not going to do anything, except listen to me now, alright?”

And you nodded meekly as your sister spoke.

“Polly is going to tell you this: fuck men. And in a way she’s right, but in others she isn’t. Men are a common nuisance and we would have no need for them if we didn’t like them so much, did we? In fact, I’m guessing you might even love this one?” Full of sisterly concern she stared at you.

As your head fell down and you started crying again, a loud bang sounded and John barged into the room once again.

“Oh shit, sorry Ada… Uhm…” he stood there, cap in hand and having no idea how to hold himself, “I just wanted to quickly give… Y/N, thought you might need this?”

Ada took the bottle of whiskey John had brought from his hands and started opening it up at once. Then she looked at her brother and demanded, “Don’t you have a fire to get to?”

Clumsily, he left the room quickly.

“They try,” your sister waved a disinterested hand.

And finally you spoke words that had burned in your throat for the last couple of hours now, “I did love him.”

“And that’s okay!” Ada urged, while rubbing you back softly, “That’s what happens and it’s fine. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not allowed to love someone or that you should be strong and independent all the time. You’re allowed to love and you’re even allowed to need someone, just like you’re allowed to grieve right now,” she opened the bottle and traded it with you for the cigarette, “and if you ever tell him I said this I’ll deny every word of it, but Arthur was right: it is a little like grieving over the death of someone. It fucking hurts, but it has to be done.”

“Okay, so what the fuck do I do now?”

“Well… you cry, which you’ve already done, good for you,” your practical sister continued, “Then you plan his funeral, which should be easy because I’m guessing Tommy is arranging that as we speak.”

You had to laugh; you couldn’t help yourself, even through the tears.

And Ada called out, “That’s it! And then you laugh.”

“So that’s today covered,” your smile faded a little, “What about tomorrow and the day after that?”

She took a large swig from the bottle and spoke while choking on it slightly, “Sweetheart, if I had all the answers I wouldn’t be a single mother right now, but it’s about learning to live with yourself. It’s about being alone and suddenly realising you’re no longer lonely.”

“Why though?” you almost whined, “What if I don’t want to be lonely? Maybe I could still get him back? We weren’t that bad…”

“Yes, you were.”

“Yes, we were,” you admitted, taking the bottle from her.

“Listen,” Ada took your hands in hers and locked eyes with you, “You deserve better. This doesn’t help you at all right now, but maybe it will in a few weeks time. You deserve a man who loves you, adores you and worships the ground you walk on, and at the very least you fucking deserve a man who stays. Now, you may not understand now, but a few weeks from now, you will love yourself again. It will all make sense then. Right now you need to let go and you need some distraction.”

“What if I want to be on my own?”

“To do what? Cry?” Ada could be horribly blunt.

So you frowned full of irritation, “Well, maybe I do.”

“You already did that. You need to be with someone you love. Doesn’t have to be me, but don’t go wallowing on your own too much. It doesn’t help.”

“Right, okay…”

So the two of you sat in silence for a long, drinking the whiskey and smoking. And while you didn’t speak, it was good. You’d always been a child that was drawn more to her brothers than her only sister, but right now, the sister proved invaluable. For the first time, it was like you felt the ground beneath your feet again. That solid feeling of family always there kept you sane and it made you just a little bit less lonely.

And then, just like that, Tommy was back. With a painfully direct way, very similar to Ada’s, he announced, “It’s ready. Come on.”

“What is?”

“Just bring his stuff,” Tommy said quickly, “whatever he gave you, and come with me.” He was already out the door when he called from the hallway, “And bring Ada too!”

So after a lot of complaining and ranting about brothers, the two of you left the stuffy bedroom and followed Thomas out the door. He hoisted the both of you in his car and drove out into the fields, above which the sun had already started to set.

Finally, he brought you to the fire, and explained, “We gypsies are used to a lot of pain, but we’re no good with it. It’s a bit like the darkness; we live in it, but it’s where the trouble is too. So, we light fires.”

“How’s the fire going to help?” you asked sarcastically.

“It’s not,” he said, “But sitting here with us might. You used to sleep outside whenever you felt trapped, thought maybe we could do it again.”

You nodded slowly. This didn’t sound like a bad plan at all, actually.

“What about his stuff?” you questioned, “You told me to bring it.”

“If you want, burn it. If not, keep it. For now.”

So you sat down by the fire and it awoke something old inside of you: something you had missed intensely.

“So is this the gypsy cure?” you asked Tommy, a small smirk playing about your lips.

“You can ask John in a minute. It’s what he did, after Martha.”

And suddenly you remembered, “That’s why he left for five days.”

“Am I expected to sleep here as well, out on the grass, all wet and dirty?” Ada asked sharply.

Tommy pointed at his older sister playfully, “Yes. Y/N gets to choose. You however do not. You’ve forgotten where you’re from, Ada.”

“I fucking haven’t,” she protested, “I remember these fields. We used to come here with mum, after the fairs.”

Your other three brothers joined you one by one and like second nature, they huddled around the fire and you weren’t sure if it was the fire or them that kept you warm. Until well into the night, they brought up stories about traveling, family and horses. You hardly spoke, but it was good to listen.

At one point you did whisper, “Maybe you were right, Tommy. Maybe this is the gypsy cure…”

“There’s no cure sweetheart, just patience. But you won’t be alone.”

“No?’ you asked vaguely.

“We’re here,” Arthur said.

“We’re your family,” John added quickly.

And Ada pulled you close to her once again, saying, “And we’re never leaving you.”

***

Masterlist

[cancerbiophd]

Why We Sleep: Unlocking the Power of Sleep and Dreams by Matthew Walker

THIS BOOK is life changing. (Even Bill Gates thought so!) I learned so much, and not just scientific facts that satisfy my curiosity. My (seemingly defunct) sleep habits have been validated, and I’m now empowered with ways to drastically improve my physical, mental, and emotional health. Ever since finishing the book I’ve been enthusiastically telling others to please read it.

Some things I’ve personally learned:

Being a night owl, early bird, or somewhere in the middle is genetic. We literally can not change this “habit”, because it’s not a habit; it’s a biological function. About 40% of people are early birds, 30% are night owls, and 30% are in the middle. The theory as to why we’ve evolved this way is because as a social species, this natural ability to take turns keeping watch at night improves our survival as a whole. Thus we as a society need to rethink and rework the ways that our world favors early birds and shuns night owls.

All teenagers have a shift in circadian rhythm that is different than young children and adults. They literally can not naturally fall asleep until well past midnight, and thus should not be waken up until after their 8 hours of sleep. What parents--and society--expecting teens to go to bed by 10 pm and wake up by 6 or 7 am for school is like asking an adult to go to bed at 7 or 8 pm, and then wake up at 4 am. Horrible, right? And yes, that chronic sleep-deprivation does have real consequences, such as a link to increased physical and mental illness. 

The natural human sleep schedule is a continuous 7-8 hours at night, and a brief 30 - 60 min nap in the afternoon. Studies have shown that in cultures where this schedule has been suddenly disrupted (like a study in Greece), people with no history of cardiovascular disease suddenly showed a 37% increase in the chance of dying from heart disease (vs those who still maintained a mid-day napping schedule) over the 6-year study period. Yikes. 

Oh, btw, that whole observation in Western Europe about people sleeping in 2 segments in the night (and waking up in the middle to eat, socialize, etc) is not a biological thing, but rather, cultural. That is not how humans have evolved to sleep. 

I think we’re all kind of familiar with knowing that sleep is attached to remembering facts, but sleep is also necessary for learning new facts. Thus a good night’s rest is not just essential for doing well on tomorrow’s exam, but also for remembering tomorrow’s lecture in another class. To put it another way: you retain short-term memories in the hippocampus, but it has a storage limit (like a USB stick). Thus sleep helps move those memories into long-term storage so you can remember them, and by doing so, also frees up that space for new memories. 

Sleep is also essential for learning new motor skills. If you’re having trouble with say, playing a difficult piece on the piano, try again after a full night’s rest. When you’re sleeping, your brain is still actively working perfecting that sequence of piano keys you need to press. Thus the adage of “practice makes perfect” should be amended to “practice and sleep makes perfect”. 

Sleeping 6 hours/night for 10 days straight will cause a cognitive decline equivalent to staying up for 24 hours straight. And for those of us who keeps that exact same sleep schedule and think we’re “fine”, we really don’t realize how not fine we are because we think that’s our baseline normal. If you’ve ever wished to have more energy and be more productive, sleeping more may just be your magical wish-granting-genie.

Every hour in the US someone dies from a car accident caused by someone behind the wheel not getting enough sleep, due to the brain essentially “blacking out” to outside stimulus for a few seconds during a micro-sleep. As a perspective: a drunk driver is merely slow at reacting to say, slamming the brakes; a sleep-deprived driver going through a micro-sleep doesn’t react at all. 

Heart attacks across the US spike significantly the day following daylights savings when everyone loses an hour of sleep. The opposite is true when we gain back that hour in the fall: heart attacks drop the following day. And that’s just one piece of evidence that sleep supports a healthy heart. 

Sleeping 4 hours/night for just six nights increases your blood glucose levels so much you would be classified as pre-diabetic. 

It’s well known that alcohol can disrupt REM sleep. What was interesting is that alcohol-disrupted sleep can interfere with memory (and thus learning) even up to three nights later, even if you get 2 full nights of sleep before consuming alcohol. Therefore, if you have an exam on Monday, drinking on the Friday before will interfere with remembering everything you’ve studied the previous 2 days. 

Blue light, like those emitted from LED lightbulbs and the phone/tablet/computer screen you’re reading this from, stimulates our brain to wake-up and to stay awake. The evolutionary hypothesis for this is that we--and all land animals--evolved from marine life in the ocean, where the only visible light is blue, and therefore our brains recognize blue light as a cue to wake up. 

And that’s just a small fraction of the super interesting life-changing things I gained from this book. So if you found these tid-bits fascinating, I highly suggest checking it out!

[hoglady]

Surprise

Okay, so this is my very first fanfiction!!!! I am both excited and terrified.

Basically I had a dream that was so real and vivid that I decided to write it down. Please be gentle!

Warning: none, fluff

You were together for over four years now. You met at your mutual friend's party and immediately hit it off. A heating argument about Frodo Baggins might be the cause of your chemistry. After the party, you stayed in contact. It was hard at the beginning, as you had a regular office job and he was, of course, traveling due to filming. Nevertheless, you skyped a lot and see each other every possible time you had. After a year you moved in together and after another two he asked the big question. The big wedding was set in 2020 but of course, due to pandemics, you had to reevaluate your plans. You did small home reception with the closest family and friends.

The day before, you arrived to the yacht that Henry rented for a short trip with your friends. He had a break from Witcher filming so you gathered your closest friends and went on yacht for a week to Croatia. Once you arrived to the docks, it was already night so you briefly unpacked and went to the city for a dinner. The evening was warm, sky was clear, you were drinking wine by the sea - perfect paradise.

After the dinner you all came back to the yacht to go to sleep as it was past midnight already.

"Come babe, I want to show you something" Henry said taking your hand. He guided you to the top deck and pointed at the sky. It was the most beautiful view you have ever seen. The clear starry sky, the moon was shining, calm sea and the mountains right next to it.

"Hen it's beautiful!" you stated.

"You're beautiful.." he hugged you from behind and started to kiss your neck.

"Okaaaaay I know what you're doing, mister. I suggest we go back to the cabin so that you can continue with sucking up to me" you turned around and whispered in his ear. You bit his earlobe and started to walk back.

"I got so lucky" Henry mumbled to himself and followed you with a stupid grin on his face.

The night was over before you knew, so you slept in a little bit longer than usual. Henry got up first and went for a short run to the seaside. You woke up happy but tired from the night activities. You were still at the dock as you were going to do small shopping in the morning so that you can go for an all-day cruise. The first couple of hours on the sea always gives you small sea sickness so you were not surprised when sudden nausea hit you. After sorting yourself out you went to the deck to join the rest. You all sat, ate and talk.

"You okay babe? You look pale." Henry whispered to you.

"Yep, just have to get used to the rocking and the waves" you kissed him on the cheek and he squeezed your thigh. After the breakfast, the ladies went to the nearest supermarket for the grocery shopping, as guys stayed on the yacht and started to prepare it for the cruise. Luckily, one of Henry's friend had a boat license so you didn't need any other crew members. While doing the shopping, one thing draw your attention. You bought everything and went back on the yacht. You left the docks and started the cruise between the lovely small Croatian islands.

The day went by so quickly - you were doing short stops for swimming in the sea, sunbathing and just relaxing. The sun has started to decent so the yacht was heading towards another Village to dock for the night. As the air got a bit chilly you went to the cabin to change clothes. As you were going through your clothes, you found the thing that you bought in the morning. The truth is you were feeling a bit tired lately and the nausea you felt this morning gave you a hunch to buy a pregnancy test. You knew Henry was eager to have kids but he didn't pressure you. After the wedding you two just decided to leave it for the faith - he was often gone for a week or two so you both figured to focus on the expanding the family once he will be more at home. You went to the bathroom and do what was instructed on the box.

As you waited for the minutes to pass, you started to imagine having a small replica of Henry. You always wanted a girl so that you can dress her in all the cute clothes but lately, the vision of small Henry running all over the house grew on you. The timer went off so a little bit nervous you looked down on the stick. A wave of joy and tears hit you immediately as you saw two stripes. All you wanted to do is run to Henry and tell him the news. After the minute you actually rethink the whole situation and decided to wait with the news when you two are alone. You dressed warmer and went back to the rest.

"Well someone is happy" Henry smiled at you as you emerged from the door.

"I'm just happy to see you again" you grinned and focused on not being overly excited but inside you were screaming with joy. You made a plan on how to tell Henry good news but you needed another day to go buy something. As the night approached, you all were tired from the active day so you went to your cabins.

"I love having a holiday. We must do it more often." Henry sighed and smiled while lying on the bed relaxed. He was drunk as the guys discovered local beer last night and bought a lot of bottles which were all gone by now. Drunk Henry was even cuter than regular Henry as he got all loving and chill." I love you Y/N. You are like, you know, the love of my life... I miss Kal. Can we call Kal? I'm gonna call Kal." Kal was at Henry's parents as he wouldn't feel good on the boat. It was just past midnight so too late to "call" the dog.

"Hens it's late already, we will call Kal in the morning." you said soothingly taking the phone out of his hand.

"Okay MOM. I think I will sleep now" he mumbled and fell asleep. You laughed at this goof and took off his shoes. You went for a shower and joined him in bed minutes after.

You woke up first, as Henry needed more sleep that morning due to the alcohol absorbed last night. You quickly got up and decided to go buy the thing you wanted to deliver good news. Luckily you were back before he woke up. You joined the girls in preparing the breakfast as the guys were sleeping in.

The day was lazy, your friends went to the nearby beach.

"Henry, do you want to go for a walk to see the village? I want to buy some souvenirs" you asked. You decided you can't wait any longer and wanted to tell him right away.

"Sure. Let's go" he agreed.

As you were walking by the seaside, eventually you wandered to a secluded part of the beach and you decided it is the best moment to tell him.

"Babe, I actually bought you something" you said handing him a striped T-shirt with the writing "Captain Dad reporting for duty". You saw he was confused for a bit but after a split second his eyes went wide.

"Does it... It means... We're having a baby?!" he looked at you with the biggest grin.

"Yes babe, I'm pregnant!" He momentarily scooped you into his arms and kissed you mumbling "I love you" in-between kisses.

"I didn't want to tell you on the boat. I don't think we should tell people yet." you two were standing in an embrace and grinning towards each other.

"How long have you known?"

"I did the test yesterday. So first let's go see the doctor once we're back and then we will tell, okay?" you asked.

"I will try to hide my excitement, although it might be quite hard" he agreed and kissed you once again.

You continue your stroll talking about the baby, laughing, kissing and smiling.

"You know what, I think we must go back to the boat. I need to specifically express my excitement and gratitude in the dim light of our cabin." Henry said giving you a quick slap on your ass. You loved this dork. And oh did he show his excitement alright that night.

[bribe-the-door]

Don’t Blame the Drunk Calling [1]

the one where you’re harry’s roommate and you both have messy dating lives

a/n: hello sweetest babes!!! it’s han -- i know i haven’t been writing much fo anything for ... like a year now? but we’re BACK! we are back and kicking!!! this is the beginning of something i’d like to continue so ... stay tuned :) ily! <3

____________________________________________________

“What are you smiling about?” you asked, sarcasm lingering in the tone of your voice.

Harry sat opposite of you, legs curled up under himself. His face glowed from both the light of his phone screen and the words being sent his way. Watching his lips twitch into a smile made your own stomach churn.

He remained quiet as he typed; the clicks of his keyboard and the whoosh! of a sent text served as a response to your question.

“Well?” you pressed.

Your second attempt hung in the air between you two. He chuckled under his breath and continued to scroll through his phone, probably looking for an emoji of somesort.

“Hm?” Harry’s eyes never left his phone.

You sighed, voice quiet. “Nevermind.”

He looked up at the change in cadence, shaking his head as if to refocus himself. His phone was then turned over on its face, a silent promise of ‘I’m listening’.

“What is it?”

It was your turn to bite at your lip now, except this wasn’t in a flirty way. Or a smirking way. There was nothing cute about the jealousy you so fervently tried to hide on a daily basis, living with the boy who stole your heart last summer.

And then promptly stomped it into the ground.

“Y/n,” he interrupted your self-spiral. “What?”

You shrugged it off as if you hadn’t been the one to press in the first place. “I don’t know, it’s just my job as your best friend to pester you about the new girl in your life.”

Harry’s eyes widened, a nervous laugh following in suit. “The new what?”

“Isn’t that why you’re smirking at your phone?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You narrowed your eyes in his direction, wishing for laser-vision or something of the like.

He pursed his lips, pondering. “Her name’s Elise, not that you’d care to know.”

Elise.

The pounding of your heart sped up and simultaneously grew quiet as it fell into your stomach.

She wasn’t the first, after the both of you… you know.

There was Brie, Anna, the girl you only saw once because she snuck out in the middle of the night, then Sage, most recently Elisabeth.

And now Elise.

“Y/n?” He asked again.

“What?”

He paused, holding onto your gaze for mere seconds too long. “Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous? Of a girl I haven’t met? That you’ll probably bring here for a few dates and then hook up?” The words steamrolled from your lips. “Not everything is about sex, you know.”

Harry bit back a laugh, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Sounds exactly like someone who needs to get laid would say.”

Your mouth fell open with a spread of embarrassment across your cheeks. “What the hell--!”

Harry stood quickly, throwing another taunting smirk in your direction. “I’ll leave you with that to ponder. I, on the other hand, have a date.”

You muttered a string of curse words under your breath, bidding him farewell and silently hoping he’d stub his toe on the way out.

“We’ll try to be quiet tonight, you know, when I’m getting laid.”

“Oh fuck off!” A throw pillow was, accurately named, and launched in his direction. His laughter could be heard even once he was down the hall to his room.

Maybe he was right.

*** It had been a while since… you know. It had happened. And you wished that period of absence was lesser than, but given the way things were working these days, it wasn’t something to depend on. Your own relationship with hookups and casual dating wasn’t anything to boast aboutーthey were few and far between (when they did happen).

You preferred to keep to yourself; nights spent alone with a good show and a glass of wine far more filled your fancy than any night with a stranger, but lately, you’d been feeling rather lonely. Like you wanted to be needed.

Desired.

Even if just for a moment (or hour, or so).

Harry had long since left the living room and you sat in silence, pondering. The buzz of an earlier glass of wine lingered in your head and only encouraged your decision to open the dreaded app on your phone.

Your profile, carefully curated with pictures of you laughing with friends, moody mirror selfies, and a screenshot of a fuckboy’s attempt to slide in your DMs (as a warning of what not to do), sat vacant for a few months now. There were a few unread messages in your inbox and you deleted them all. It was time to start over.

All to prove Harry wrong.

Swiping like it was a video game, you matched and matched and super-liked anyone to your liking. Bryan, Timothy, a few Chrises, some guy named “T”, they all piled up somewhere on the internet as your next potential fling. It only took a few minutes on this dull Saturday night for Chris #3 to message you.

“Hey cutie” was all that you earned from your search, and you played along, wine helping your case.

Chris didn’t keep your attention long, though, and you continued swiping out of boredom. It was then that you swiped to Aly’s profile.

It was a curious feeling, the way your heart rushed to a rapid beat in your chest. Pausing, you studied over her face in the first picture. Then the second. And the third, fourth, and fifth, too.

How did…

You tapped to the settings of your Tinder app, confused. Indeed, it was set to “Everyone”. When this happened, you were unsure. Maybe Harry had gotten a hold of your phone one Wine Wednesday and changed it as a prank. (Not that it really was a prank…).

You peered over your phone sheepishly, as if you were expecting Harry to jump out from behind the couch and cause a scene. Like you were somehow 13 again, hiding from your parents and reading Seventeen magazine. A slow burn flourished over your cheeks, ignited by the juvenile sparks in your chest.

You pressed the settings button again, biting your lip as you did so. It wasn’t as ceremonious as you were making it out to be, but your body had other plans.

Women only.

The checkmark sealed the deal, and that was that.

A new kind of rush filled your ribcage, holding back the beating of your heart that very likely could be heard from across the room. You swiped back to the main screen, Aly’s profile still front and center. Carefully hovering over the picture of her face, you paused before swiping right.

To your surprise, it highlighted in blue and showed your pictures together.

“Matched!” it said in a celebratory font.

Your phone hung in your hand absent-mindedly as you sat, sinking further into the couch. Does this mean something? You wondered. Am Iー?

Before you could answer, your phone vibrated in your hand.

A single “1” shone like a beacon over the Messages tab in the app. Something told you it wasn’t Chris #3 trying to redeem himself from earlier.

Aly’s name was illuminated at the top of your screen, her profile picture shrunk down to fit the small space but her smile was still just as friendly. Your heart picked up in its cadence, thudding prominently in your chest.

It’s just a girl, y/n, you thought to yourself. It’s just a girl, on a dating app, that I matched with.

Aly: Hi :)

Okay, simple. Concise. Not a lot to work with but certainly not a lot to get worked up over, either. Your fingers danced over the screen, going back and forth between the “Hey” with a smiley or a “What’s up?” and a wink. Was a wink too forward? What if you responded with the same thing she sent. Would she think you’re an amateur? That you don’t know how to talk to girls?

Aly: Are you from around here? Your third picture is from the Firefly, right?

You paused again, rethinking everything.

You: Hey! I am, the Firefly is my go-to. You?

Send.

It was almost instantly Aly sent a response, excited someone else was familiar with her favorite spot, too.

Had you ever crossed paths?

The conversation flowed between the two of you seamlessly, your anxiety fading away as Aly provided most of the questions and seemed eager to talk. Before you knew it, an hour had gone by and you’d ignored a few other texts to talk to this random stranger.

Harry had sent a few, one was the link to a tiktok, one of those “the person who sent you this…” (it was about food; how typical) and a text reminding you he’d be bringing Elise home tonight. He made sure to remind you that he ‘apologized in advance for the noise’ and that he’d ‘make it up to you’.

Aly sent another message, the banner across the top of your screen pulling your attention from Harry’s attempt at pushing your buttons.

Aly: You down to get drinks sometime?

The butterflies started their rampage in your belly all over again, this time much more intensely than the last.

She wanted to get drinks? Already?

You weighed your options: one; drinks with a hot girl at Firefly or two; get wine and bring it back to your apartment while Harry had this Elise girl over.

There was nothing to lose with your offer, so you swiftly typed out a suggestion and hit send without second thought.

You: Wanna come to mine and drink some wine? I just baked banana bread :)

Her response was immediate, a quality you quite admired about Aly: she was bold and brave, exactly the opposite of yourself.

Aly: Red or white? ;)

***

The moments before Aly was slated to arrive were the longest of your life. If you’d thought your heart was beating quickly before, this was overdrive. You shared your address, along with the promise of baked goods, and waited.

A soft knock at your door sent your feet flying to the entryway. You brushed the hair from your forehead and fidgeted with the buttons on your flannel, and with one more deep breath, you unlocked the deadbolt.

Aly was shorter than you, only by a few inches, but her bold eyes drew you right in. She smiled, sly and curious, offering the black plastic bag of wine before greeting you.

“Hi.”

Her salutation hung in the air between you as you took her in. She was just like her pictures and she drew you in all the same as she had on Tinder.

“Hey,” you answered, taking the bag from her outstretched hand. “Come in?”

You stepped back to allow her to shuffle past you, her coat already coming off before the door shut behind the two of you.

“This is cozy,” she said. “Just you?”

“No, I have a roommate. He’s bringing someone home tonight, supposedly.”

She chuckled, “Interesting living with a guy, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

You took her coat and tossed it over a dining table chair. Aly had already made herself at home on the couch, opposite of the corner you normally staked out as your own. She continued to look around, biting back a smile every so often.

The string lights around the crown molding illuminated her face with a soft orange glow as she took everything in. She tossed her phone aside, arms outstretched across the sofa behind her. Her smile was everything, and you almost forgot why she was even here.

“Do you, uh, want me to open this?” You nodded toward the bag in your hand, its weight bringing you back into the moment.

Aly nodded, “Want me to come with?”

“Sure.”

She pushed off of the couch to follow you into the small kitchen, finding a spot in front of the sink. It was comfortable having her here, the way she just ‘fit’ in without even trying. Like it wasn’t new territory for her.

Her arms were folded in front of her chest and she watched you intently.

Aly had bought both red and white, taking your answer of “depends on the day” a bit literally.

“So…,” she started, stepping in closer. “What’s your story?”

“Hm?”

“You know,” Aly laughed, “Why’re you on Tinder?”

Luckily you were searching through the silverware drawer when she asked, intent set on finding the corkscrew. “Just a 24-year-old thing to do, isn’t it?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you sighed, turning to face her. “My roommate and I have a bit of a bet going.”

Aly raised an eyebrow, asking you to continue. You found the corkscrew and shut to the drawer with your hip, shyly turning back toward the counter with the wine to divert the attention from yourself.

“It’s stupid. He’s … he’s a bit of a player.”

“Okay, and?”

So she wasn’t going to let this go. “He brings a lot of girls home, and I don’t bring many guys home.”

The bottle of red popped! open and you set the corkscrew aside. You felt Aly step in closer behind you, offering a glass from the counter.

“I’m not a guy, though.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, feeling the warmth returning to your cheeks. Your tone shifts, voice getting quieter. “You’re not.”

“So what does that mean?”

You hand her a glass, generously full of the deep red alcohol, and shrug. “I’m not sure. What does that mean?”

She cocks her head to the side and smirks again. You’re painfully aware of how she licks her lips before speaking, and watched intently as she took a sip of the wine.

“Do you want it to mean something?”

“Well I mean,” you stammer over your words, “If you want it to mean something?”

Aly stepped toward you, closing in on the space between the lot of you. Her glass is raised, she nods in your direction, and you tap your glass to hers. You both take another sip and she waits to respond.

“I think it would be fun, you know. For it to mean something,” she shrugged. “I mean, isn’t that why you invited me over?”

Your eyes grew wide and you laughed nervously. “I didn’t think it would actually work.”

“Wouldn’t work? Oh, baby,” Aly shook her head, “I knew from the moment I saw your picture that I wasn’t going to just let you go.”

Baby. Your head swirled with thoughts, overwhelmed to say the least. “Sorry, I, uh,” you giggled to yourself again, flustered. The sip you intended to take was more of a gulp, and then another.

Aly joined your laughter, touching your shoulder in efforts to console you. “Was that too forward of me? I’m sorry, I forget that this is new for some people.”

“How’d you know?”

“You’ve been picking at your nails since the moment I got here and talking at the speed of light,” Aly leaned back against the sink. “You’re an open book, y/n.”

She took a long drink from her glass, now half empty, and stood silently.

“An open book, hm?”

“Yep. Totally.”

You paused for a second, the wine in-hand going down much faster than you anticipated. “What else do you know about me then?”

Aly’s eyes widened, a smile creeping up on her face. “Let me see.”

It was your turn to lean back against the counter and wait for what she had to say. Her eyes sized you up and down, and she hummed a “hmm…” just for good measure.

“Shy. But only when you don’t know her well. Confident, but that’s mostly with the help of wine. This roommate? You like him, at least a little. But you’re on Tinder… matching with women? Interesting character development in my book at least.”

You shook your head, embarrassed at the impressive correctness that she boasted in her assumptions. “Mostly right.”

“Only mostly?”

“Yeah,” you hid behind another sip of wine, “You forgot about the part where I’m really into you.”

“Oh,” Aly reached behind her to place the now-empty glass on the counter, stepping closer to you once more. “You’re really into me?”

You nodded.

She took another step in. “How much?” Her voice was nearly a whisper.

You could hardly hear her, over the hammering of your heart, but your brain was busy working up a witty response.

“How much, baby?” Aly pressed.

She was dangerously close to you now, only inches from your face. The mention of you being ‘confident’ but ‘mostly with the help of wine’ was no truer than in this moment, and you didn’t answer her with words. But instead, a kiss.

Aly didn’t hesitate to kiss back, hardly leaving you the time to place your wine glass (empty, too) on the counter. She leaned into you and wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. She knew exactly what she was doing.

It was just like kissing boys, you quickly realized, except this felt better. Aly led, moving her lips in synchrony with yours that, once you two found a balance that worked, made your head spin. The butterflies in your stomach morphed into something more; less about the nerves and more about the want.

You didn’t care about anything in this momentー

ーWhich was exactly when you heard the front door slam shut.

“Y/n!” Harry called out from the entryway. You heard his keys hit the table, along with another thud and the low murmurs of another voice.

Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck.

“Y/n!” He called again, “Are you evenー?”

He rounded the corner as you pushed out from behind Aly’s grasp, her own surprise catching up with her.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, quickly changing directions to face Harry. “Hi, yes, I’m here.”

Harry eyed you, clearly seeing the person behind you. “Hi…”

“Um, Harry,” you paused, stepping aside to bring Aly into view. “This is Aly.”

Aly spoke up from behind you: “Yeah, I know.”

You turned on your heel. “What?”

Harry hadn’t said anything since seeing Aly and remained quiet in the doorway of the kitchen. He raked a hand through his curls and stared at the ground.

“Hi, Harry.” Aly said, her tone laced with awkwardness.

Oh.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, Aly.”

Oh, no.

“Do you…?”

“Yeah,” they both answered in unison.”

“...know each other.”

________________________________________________

part two coming soon!

[talkfastromance4]

something part 3--calum hood

A/N: This is it! The final piece! Thank you for bearing with me while I took you on this rollercoaster of emotions and for being so kind while I took my break. Much love💕

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking weed, dealing with heartbreak, sexual situations

Part one || Part two

***

Five months have gone by and Calum tried to push the idea to publicly date Missy away as best he could. The guys even tried to help, but inevitably he was forced to say yes. Calum’s reading over the itinerary he and Missy have to follow over his morning coffee. He takes a sip remembering when she was brought in to discuss the arrangements. It was the Monday following the best and worst weekend of his life with Y/N.

Calum’s body language is screaming ‘leave me the fuck alone I’m pissed’ as he sits slouched in the chair, arms folded against his chest and his hands in fists. His facial expression mirrors a rock, hard and unforgiving as Missy walks in with her manager and the band’s PR liaison. He watches her with hard eyes take a seat next to him, Calum purposely shifts his chair far away from her. She frowns slightly then smiles politely to the rest.

Calum listens as the team discusses the arrangement. How it will benefit both the band and up the ante on her modeling career.

“To be tied with one of the most desirable bachelors will increase magazines wanting to feature you,” Christina the liaison explains excitedly. Calum can’t help but snort.

“Pair her with Styles��� then, he’s more notorious than I am,” Calum grumbles.

“We couldn’t get in contact,” Missy’s manager says, her voice clipped as she narrows her eyes at Calum. “It will boost record sales for your music—”

“And we want the first single to be the love song, ‘Through the Dark.’”

Ashton, Michael, and Luke’s heads whip to Calum who has become even more outraged. It can’t be that song; he wrote that about Y/N.

“With the new romance rumors and the song, it will be a hit in no time, probably surpassing the charts of Ariana Grande and Styles combined.”

“No, we’re not having that be the single,” Ashton tries to dissuade the agreement that neither member of the band was a part of.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t written about Missy,” Calum says. His voice is as monotonous as his face. From the corner of his eye, he sees Missy look at him with a quizzical look.

“So what? No one will know except the people in this room. The relationship will last about eight months, until the album is officially released, and touring starts. You’ll inevitably break up because Missy will be too busy modeling around the world and you gentleman will also be touring. Everybody wins.”

There’s grumbles amongst the band, Calum’s jaw clicks in anger. He turns his gaze to the window, sees the clouds rolling in as his private life is being scheduled like he’s some sort of robot. He closes his eyes thinking of Y/N, and how she looked in that flower crown and then how she looked with the petals scattered in her hair like she was some type of goddess. Then he sees her with tears in her eyes.

“Calum?”

He opens his eyes and turns at the sound of his name. It’s just him and Missy in the conference room. He’s getting really tired of hearing his name if it’s not from Y/N’s lips. She moves a little closer to him in her chair, an apologetic look on her face.

“Kind of surprised ‘fake dating’ actually happens. I’ve heard rumors and look, they’re true.”

“Imagine that.” He rolls his eyes.

Missy feels the iciness in his tone, and she tries again.

“Look, this is weird for me, too. It was all my manager’s idea which is insulting because if I need a fake boyfriend to get more modeling gigs then her faith in me isn’t all that great. I don’t think of you that way—”

“Your kiss at my party said otherwise.”

“I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone. And…all right, maybe I did have a crush on but when that girl—”

“Y/N?”

“Right, her. When Y/N showed up and I saw the way you looked at her…I couldn’t compete with that. I don’t want to come between you two.”

“Too late.”

“What happened? Maybe I could talk to her—”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it, Missy, all right? She’s not even talking to me, so I highly doubt she’d talk to you. The woman of my dreams ended things before they even began, and I couldn’t even tell her I love her.”

Missy’s quiet for a moment then offers a kind smile.

“Sounds like you want to talk about it a little….”

He pushes away from the table in a huff then stops with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll play this act if it helps you in some weird, twisted way but it means nothing to me. We’ll do all the proper pap shots and appearances but no physical contact whatsoever. Those are my limits.”

He storms out as he hears a quiet ‘okay’ and the guys are waiting for him down the hall. They try to reach out for him, but Calum continues walking.

Calum looks down at his notebook, sketches and doodles of flowers are scattered about the page. Their stems and vines looping through the words that are constantly running through his head. He takes a long drink of his coffee, letting the bitterness warm his insides.

After the meeting with management and Missy, Calum called Y/N. He texted her. He knocked on her door. It wasn’t until Crystal told him to give her space did he really back off. He knows Y/N didn’t mean what she said. That night they shared was something special. From how she was so perfect with his untimely manner to how she took care of him while he had allergies from the flowers he picked. And finally, to the way they connected.

The radio in his car is still broken, but he doesn’t listen to music anymore, he can’t because it reminds him of Y/N. Everything reminds him of her.

It’s not like Missy is a bad person. She’s actually become a good friend to Calum and respected his boundaries he set up for their ‘relationship.’ The only touching that happens is by her with her hand holding onto his arm, and even that is just for pictures. No hand holding, no hugs, no kisses.

She’s gaining the hype her manager wanted and Calum has remained off social media as soon as it started. When he’s not rehearsing with the guys or doing PR with Missy, Calum’s secluded himself to his home and music room all while being viewed like a goldfish in a bowl.

So, he writes. He writes about flowers in hair, flowers pressed between bodies and flowers held together by a chain. He also writes about strawberries. He hasn’t eaten one since he kissed her last.

**

Y/N’s been keeping herself busy, well, as much as she can. Everywhere she goes she’s reminded of Calum. Especially when she opens her closet and sees the small wooden box she placed his bouquet of flowers and flower crown in. She couldn’t find it in herself to throw them away.

That first week after what happened with Calum she spent it crying and listening to sad music. Her heartbreak had her rethink of past moments with Calum. All of the ‘what if’s’ are now ‘will nots.’ Which is way too close to ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ for her liking hidden in the petals of the flowers.

She ignored his calls and texts.

The first time she saw them together was a month after the whole ordeal. She thought she was in a good place and as she was scrolling through Instagram on her lunch break she saw the first picture. Calum and Missy were walking along the pier going in and out of shops. They were wearing sunglasses and Calum didn’t really show much emotion but if he knew paps were around, he never did.

What Y/N zeroed in on was Missy’s hand on Calum’s arm.

Her heart fell into her stomach and she closed the app without even reading the caption. She deleted her Instagram and Twitter apps that day.

When she got home she opened the box of flowers, their scent mixed in with the cedar wood twisted her heart. Very delicately, she lifted the bouquet from the box. Calum’s chain was still wrapped around the now dry, frail stems.

She should throw them out. She almost did. She couldn’t. The dried flowers were the only reminder that what happened between her and Calum was real. That it actually happened. How could she let that go? Even if he was the one that got away and kept getting away?

“You did this Y/N,” she muttered to herself placing the flowers back in the box. “You made him leave before you could get attached.”

The next day there was a knock at her door. Not expecting anyone she peeked through the curtains and saw it was Ashton with a pizza box and a plastic bag.

“Ashton…what are you doing here?” she asks upon opening the door.

“I come bearing gifts of the heartbreak kind,” he grins sheepishly holding up the box and bag.

“Is that a champagne bottle I see in that bag?” she asks seeing the slender neck and gold foiling.

“It is. And caramel ice cream.”

“All right. You can come in,” she allows stepping aside so he can enter.

“So,” he sighs falling heavily against the couch. The pizza box is open on her coffee table, he has a glass of water while Y/N is holding onto the bottle of champagne. His hazel eyes take her in, “how are you?”

“That’s a loaded question,” she scoffs pressing play on the Marvel movie. She decided on Infinity War. “It’s been a month, so you think I’d be okay. I was told that however long you were with someone, that’s how long it takes to get over them divided in half. So, if you’re with someone for a year, you should be over them in six months. Calum and I were…’together’ for a day so it should have been twelve hours, right? But nope.”

She takes a long chug of the champagne until it makes her eyes water from the bubbles. The sweet nectar bites at her tongue and teeth.

“Who told you that math?”

“An old boss of mine,” she shrugs.

“Well, it’s stupid as shit. There’s no time limit for how you fall for someone just as there’s no time limit for you to lose feelings. You have feelings when you have them.”

“We went on one date, Ashton. I shouldn’t be this bent out of shape over that.”

“Hey,” he pinches her shoulder affectionately until she looks at him. His face softens. “You and Calum always had something between you. From an outside perspective, I get why you both danced on that line between friends and something more. You’ve both been hurt and there was always something in the way.”

“Or someone,” her eyes drop at the thought of Missy. Then she thinks of the photo she saw of them and rubs at her eyes, so the tears won’t come.

“My point is,” he stresses grabbing hold of her hand, “you’re allowed to feel hurt and sad and angry.”

“I’m trying so hard to not feel that way all the time, but it…it’s so consuming sometimes.”

“I know. Before you drink the whole bottle, eat some pizza, we’ll watch the movie and we can talk some more, okay?”

About halfway through the movie Y/N’s hugging the ¾ full bottle against her chest as a comfort object. She never drinks her sadness away, she knows how dangerous that is, but it feels nice to have her head not feel so full because all her thoughts are tumbling out to Ashton. His arm is around her shoulders in comfort as she leans into him.

“You always thought there was something between us?” she asks.

“I didn’t think, I knew.”

“What’s the difference?” she stares at him quizzically; the bubbly made his words confusing. Ashton smiled at her response.

“He’d always tell me how he wanted to ask you out. He’d ask if you were coming to any dinner or party we had. But he was scared to ruin your friendship and in my opinion, I think it scared him how close you two got so fast.”

“Hmph,” she slumps against the inside of his arm.

“Your song played while we were driving that night, you know.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“Drive,” she giggles at the comedy of it all. “He gave me wildflowers with his chain around it and bought me a flower crown.”

“It sounds like a great night.”

“It was! But then he got sleepy cause he was allergic to the flowers, then he passed out on me. But I liked it…” she takes the last sip of her champagne then pouts that it’s empty.

“One is enough for you,” Ashton chuckles placing the bottle next to the pizza box. He settles back next to her and they watch the movie for a moment.

“I saw their picture today,” she says somberly. “I know it’s fake. But they’re both a catch…so it’ll be no surprise that it’ll become real.”

“Y/N—”

“It happens all the time Ash,” she shrugs. “I’m the person before everyone’s happy ending.”

“That’s not true. Look at all you and Calum have been through together. This damn arrangement is a roadblock for sure, but you two are the final drive.”

“That…kind of makes sense. I can’t tell,” she shakes her head.

“It’d make sense a full champagne bottle ago,” he mutters but she hears him.

She nudges him in the ribs playfully until they’re both laughing.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she says and moves down the hall.

Ashton checks his phone to see Luke is trying to console Calum, too. It was hard for him to act with Missy today. Luke reports that Calum has had only one drink but is smoking a lot of weed to help clear his head and wants to drive to Y/N’s house.

When Ashton has finished replying to keep an eye on him, Y/N is standing next to the couch. He looks up at her to see she has her arms wrapped around herself, her lower lip caught between her teeth, but he hears the quick gasps of her sobs.

“I really hate this, Ashton.”

“C’mere,” he opens his arms to her and hugs her tightly.

“It’s really hard being lonely.”

She cries into his shirt, finding comfort in his embrace and friendship.

**

Y/N’s found a good friendship with Max from work. Nothing romantic at all, but he makes sure they do a lot of fun things together. It’s been almost five months since that night with Calum and when Y/N comes across a photo of him and Missy together, Max is there to take her to the beach or a movie to distract her mind.

Now when she sees photos of them it doesn’t make her go in her closet to look at the wilted flowers. It’s still a sting in the thorn of her heart but it’s more bearable. The first single off their new album was ‘Through the Dark’ and it made her cry. Max found her laying on the floor of her room with it playing on a loop, the box of flowers unopened but lying next to her. He laid next to her and held her hand as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She’s meeting up with Max at his place for lunch and she was craving the chicken Caesar sandwich from the bistro on the pier. It wasn’t until she saw her that Y/N remembered this is a favored spot for Calum and Missy to be spotted and there she was. Standing off the side of the counter looking gorgeous in a spring dress.

Y/N tried to keep her head down as she ordered.

“And what’s the name?” the cashier asks.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Y/N? Oh, it is you!” Missy says suddenly next to her.

“Got it this time, thanks. We’ll call you when your food’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters. She takes a deep breath and turns to Missy. “Hi.” She looks around the shop expecting to see Calum and trying to prepare herself to come face to face with him.

“He’s not here,” Missy says quietly glancing around the shop as well then grabs Y/N’s wrist pulling her to the far end of the sandwich showcase. “He’d actually hate me for even talking about this…and to you but…I’m so sorry. For everything. My manager came up with this PR stunt.”

“You don’t have to explain, I get it’s for publicity,” Y/N tries to get away from this situation as quickly as possible while also keeping herself together. Her neck is warm, and her breathing has accelerated in a slight panic.

Missy grabs her wrist again but pulls her into the women’s bathroom. Y/N’s affronted at the boldness of Missy’s actions.

“It is all publicity, I swear! I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Calum but he’s miserable. We’re friends now and all he talks about is you. How funny you are and kind you are. He really misses you,” Missy continues with a frown.

Y/N sighs. She really does seem nice but she’s still keeping her guard up. How could she not?

“He really cares about you, Y/N.” Missy stresses squeezing Y/N’s hand for emphasis.

“Missy, look. I appreciate you telling me all this. You… you actually seem really nice and genuine which makes it that much harder for me to dislike you.”

“I get that,” Missy nods her head, “but he really, really cares about you.” Her eyes grow bigger each time she said really, and Y/N gives her a confused look.

“Yeah…you um…you said that?”

“No, he…ugh he’s going to hate me, but he loves you. ‘Through the Dark is about you. He told me you’re the girl of his dreams when we met the Monday after his party. I’ve felt horrible all this time.”

Y/N stares at Missy while she processes what she just heard.

“When did he tell you that again?”

“His party was Friday, and we met that Monday to discuss the logistics of this stupid ploy. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for kissing him in front of you! I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone, and I told him I did have a small crush on him but when I saw the way he looked at you it went away. I swear!”

“He really said he loves me?”

“Yes! When we’re not out getting photographed he’s always writing in his notebook and drawing flowers in it. Not that I’ve read anything,” Missy adds in a rush. “It’s just over his shoulder I saw it a couple times before he closed it.”

“Yeah but that was months ago, I’m sure he’s already caught feelings for you.”

“No, he hasn’t. Trust me. He’s become more like a brother to me, honest. I’ve been trying to force him to talk to you and our ‘contract’ is up in a few months anyway for the album release. I want to break if off early publicly so you can finally be together but he’s so stubborn he won’t.”

Y/N laughs lightly at how fast Missy talks. She’s not sure if it’s out of keeping this all to herself for so long or if that’s really how she is, talking a mile a minute.

“Thank you for telling me this, Missy. I…I can’t believe I’m telling you this since we don’t really know each other but I love him, too. I’ve loved him for so long but I’m the one who pushed him away. I’m the one who told him to do this deal with you because he and I only had one night together,” Y/N explains.

Missy’s eyes widen and she squeals in joy. “You love him too?! Oh, this is great. I’ll arrange for you two to meet up and—”

“Missy, Missy! No, no don’t do that. It’s been too long,” Y/N shrugs. “I doubt he’d want to see me.”

Missy plants her feet on the ground firmly, her face turning very serious very fast. Y/N’s a little taken aback at the fierceness in her gaze.

“Do you want to be with him?” she asks.

“Um..yes.”

“And you love him?”

“Yeah…”

“Then let me help you fix this, please. It’s the least I can do for coming between you when it wasn’t my plan to do so in the first place.”

Y/N takes a deep breath. She’s really starting to like Missy; she has a good heart.

“Okay. How can you help?”

“They’re all planning to go to the Invisible House for a week. I can’t go because I have a shoot to do in New York, but Ashton told me that Calum will be there a couple days before they all arrive.”

Y/N mulls it over, her mind thinking of ways to make it up to him. To apologize. To make him realize how sorry she is and how special he is to her. That despite all the hurdles and messes they’ve been through, that something they have is meaningful.

Then, she gets the perfect idea.

“Do you know when he’s going to be there?” Y/N asks and Missy smiles.

“I know all the details, Y/N.”

**

The drive to the Invisible House is pretty boring without his radio working so he hums to himself as he drives. Calum’s glad he decided to head there a few days before the rest of the group shows up. The pictures are immaculate and he’s excited to try out the hundred-foot pool.

He texted Missy when he was leaving, and she responded with an encouraging text in return.

‘Have fun! Let me know how everything goes 😉’

He’s confused by the winky face but appreciates it all the same. He’s glad to have her as a friend.

When he arrives at the building it’s dusk, the stars are just dusting the sky and the house is a glowing violet in the desert air. He stares at it for a moment, taking in the beauty of the panes of glass, breathing in the cool desert night. If they were all here a year ago maybe Red Desert would have been Purple Desert.

He shakes his head in disbelief. He’s starting to sound like Luke.

He grabs his belongings, two suitcases and a duffel bag and makes his way to the entrance. Ashton and Michael will be bringing the instruments for a jam session, so he didn’t pack his bass.

Once the door is unlocked, he’s mesmerized by the space before he hears music playing. Was that supposed to be playing? He sets his things by the counter and walks further in. The pool is lit up in a light blue and purple with glowing white lotus flowers floating on the water.

There’s flower petals beneath his feet as he walks the length of the pool. It’s a sweet aroma that fills his nose. Then he panics and thinks Michael has this set up for Crystal. He does not want to walk in on them having a private moment, but that’s hard to do in a glass house.

When he’s at the halfway point of the pool, the soft music becomes a bit louder and he recognizes the drum and guitar chords of Something by The Beatles. His mouth goes dry as he comes to the living area at the end of the pool to where Y/N is standing.

There’s petals on the carpet and she’s holding a white flower in her palm with a flower crown on her head. He’s at a loss for words.

“Hi,” she welcomes quietly.

“Hi…what are you doing here?” he wishes he didn’t ask such a dumb question.

“I should have rehearsed this beforehand what I wanted to say but I had to make sure this was all perfect before you got here. Um, I’m here for you. I know it’s been so long, and this is all my fault in the first place. Pushing you away and I thought I was protecting myself.”

She takes a step forward.

“I’ve been a mess without you, Cal. I miss you, so much it hurts. I think of you all the time, and that night we spent together. Your necklace is still wrapped around the flowers you gave me and that’s what made me think of doing this,” she gestures to her flowers on display all around. She takes another step forward. Closer to the step of the living area, closer to Calum.

“We’ve had our fair share of messes with each other. And it’s my fault for the last one so it’s my responsibility to rectify it. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, how much that night meant to me.”

Another step forward and Calum is reminded of that night in his room. How he came to her, now he’s the one on the receiving end. He watches her with bated breath, and he knows she’s nervous (like he is) by the way she’s playing with the white flower in her hand.

“And the more I thought about the messes we’ve been through it made me think of the Lotus flower. It grows through the mud but when it breaks through, it’s this vibrant and full flower,” she takes two steps and is right at the edge of the step. She holds up the flower.

“And it’s like we’re the flower. We’re growing through the mud and I called it quits before we really bloomed. And…” she takes a shaky breath then laughs nervously, “this sounded romantic in my head but now it sounds super cheesy. But when I heard you were drawing flowers it made me feel like we were still connected.”

She doesn’t say anything more and neither does Calum. Then, when she looks up at him it all makes sense. What they’ve been through these last several months, that was their mud.

“Can you say something?” she whispers, “I’m starting to feel like an idiot and that this was a really stupid idea—”

He lifts her up to his level connecting their lips together. He brings her against him, and she wraps her arms around his neck, their lips getting reacquainted with each other. She tastes like strawberries and smells of flowers and he’s filled with bliss. He feels whole again.

“I love you,” he gasps when they pause to catch their breath. “I should have said it months ago, but I was scared. I thought it was too soon.”

“I love you, too. I’m so sorry for what I said that day. I wish I didn’t—”

He silences her with another kiss.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I understand why you did it, sweetheart,” he cups her cheek and gazes into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“We really are a mess,” she laughs brushing his curls from his face.

“A beautiful mess,” he corrects sucking a kiss from her lips then holds her against him in a tight hug. He never wants to let go.

“Was this too much?” she asks moments later.

“No, it was perfect, thank you for doing all of this for me. I’ll be honest,” he stands up straight to look at her, “I thought I was walking in on Michael and Crystal.”

Y/N laughs and continues laughing until Calum kisses her and she’s left gasping.

“How about we try out the pool?” he mumbles.

They spend a good forty-five minutes in the pool. Soft touches and kisses are exchanged until they reconnect as one. They’re surrounded by the glowing flowers and the ripples they create from their movements. Words of love are spoken and moaned, echoing throughout the space.

They transition to the bed that is also covered in flower petals. Calum kisses down the length of her body, his lips ghosting over her core. Their eyes lock as he attaches his mouth between her folds, his tongue swirling around her bud.

Her legs squeeze around his head on their own accord as she’s vibrating with pleasure. The moans are continuous as he works her over into her second orgasm of the night. When it surpasses, she’s giggling quietly as Calum peppers kisses to her thighs.

“Wow…”

“That good, huh?” he remarks, his lips smacking against her skin bounce off the walls.

“Yeah but…” she rises up on her elbows to look down at him. “Is that all you got? You told me you’d make me cum eight times when we were in your bathroom. Or was that just talk?”

“Oh, you want to be a little sass, huh?” he bites down on the fleshy part of her thigh. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” she smirks.

“Because now I’m going to make you cum ten times.”

“Okay, Cal, I was just jo—OH!” She falls back against the bed as she’s already filled with intense pleasure.

Suffice it to say, Calum did make her cum nine more times. The overstimulation and her noises got him riled up and he had to be close to her again. He made love to her slowly and tenderly. He gave her gentle kisses and she molded to him.

Before she fell asleep he was stroking her face after she drank some water, he really exhausted her.

“How did you know I was going to be here?”

“I ran into Missy at the bistro I love. She explained everything,” she replies sleepily. She’s struggling to keep her eyes open. “I like her, she’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“I think she and Max would get along,” she yawns snuggling closer to him.

“I’ll take your word for it. You can go to sleep you know.”

“I want to keep talking to you,” she squeezes his lower back.

“We can talk all day tomorrow. And tomorrow night. And the next day, and the next…”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” she smiles closing her eyes. “I love you, Cal.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

**

Two days later the rest of the group arrived, and it was a happy albeit awkward reunion because Calum and Y/N were still naked in bed. They spent their time eating, watching movies, and having sex as much as they wanted. It was perfect but also took a lot out of them.

They were both fast asleep until their names were shouted, and Calum scrambled to cover Y/N up.

“I’m glad to see you, Y/N but I’ll hold off on the hug until you aren’t naked with Cal,” Luke laughs.

“We’ll go bring in the rest of the stuff,” Ashton giggles then winks at Y/N.

“Please tell me this was the only place you had sex,” Michael asks peering at them both with narrow eyes.

“Umm…”

“Ugh!” Michael throws his hands in the air. “You guys better not have left messes anywhere!” he complains walking back towards the main kitchen area.

Calum looks over the wall separating their ‘room’ from the rest of the house and turns to her.

“We’re done with messes, yeah?” Calum grins down at her and she nods bringing his face closer to hers.

“Something great came from the mess,” she agrees and slots her lips with his. They’ll have to be super quiet now. 

Taglist: @calpalirwin​​ @myloverboyash​​  @loveroflrh​​ @iovehemmings​​ @cxddlyash​​ @princesslrh​​  @spicycal​​ @mysticalhood​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @wastedheartcth​​  @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @calumance​​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​​  @sarcastically-defensive17​​ @another-lonely-heart​​ @devilatmydoor​​ @sanrioluke​​ @mayve-hems​​  @haikucal​​ @thatscooibaby​​  @suchalonelysunflower​​ @burstintocolor​​  @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​  @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​​ @i-like-5sos​​ @creampiecashton​​ @calpops​​ @superbloomed-c​​ @littledrummeraussie​​ @sexgodashton​

[eleanorbloom]

Moonlight: Part Two

Disclaimer: Open Heart and most of the characters are owned by Pixelberry. Matilde is a creation of mine.

Book/Pairing: Open Heart / Bryce Lahela x F! MC (Matilde Luna)

Word Count: 2.5k Warnings/Rating: Angst, curse words/Teen.

Author’s Note: I'm so sorry for disappearing, adult life has been harder than expectected and only this week I had some spare time to edit this :(

Thank you so much to all the people that read the first part, I'm glad you enjoyed it. Hope you like this as well 😊

A bug hug to you, beauties! ❤

Moonlight taglist: @dalishessence @curiousconch @chocopeppermintcake @utterlyinevitable @secretaryunpaid @kachrisberry @romereadingshop @thegreentwin @blackcatkita @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Let me know if you wanna me added to the taglist!

----

Part Two. Orbiting the Moon.

First days are always challenging.

They demand a lot of things. Bravery to explore the unknown (whether it be a place, a person, a job, even food); strength to meet new people when you weren’t blessed in the people skills department; patience to stand the new people who turn out to be shitty people; adaptability to adjust your ways of life to other people’s, etcetera.

It’s a lot.

So, it wouldn’t be a lie if I say that Bryce Lahela didn’t cross my mind after we parted ways at the Atrium that morning, even if his appearance can be categorized as ‘unforgettable’.

Between dealing with Aurora Damn Emery and her insufferable attitude and the fact that I almost killed my first patient on my very first day, I had no space for more.

All I could do was cursing internally (at Aurora and also me) and rethink every fucking decision I made that day. Wondering what would've happened if I hadn't been there the moment Annie had the anaphylactic shock, if Varma hadn't shown up to snap out of me when I froze... Endless questions.

All my dreams about being a doctor crumbled at that moment, wondering if I was doing the right thing, if I was made for this.

“You need to have a long, hard think about whether or not you're ready to be here.”

The face of Annie, unconscious, and Dr. Ramsey's words was all I could hear and see throughout the afternoon, intensifying the guilt with every passing second.

First day and I could've killed someone.

I couldn't even shut up the voice inside my head stating the facts.

First day and I am already a failure.

Because they were nothing but the truth.

Do I deserve to be here?

And there was no point in denying such hard evidence.

Right in the middle of a hallway, surrounded by immaculate white walls and shining lights, I felt exposed. Like everyone around me was going to find out the imposter I was.

I wanted to run away. Disappear.

Without thinking too much, I ran to the nearest supply closet I found before anyone could notice me and the state I was in.

Once under the darkness of the room, I leaned against the wall feeling my stomach trembling, my heartbeats resounding in my temples in slow motion.

“No puedo hacerlo,” I sighed, releasing a shaky breath as I was rubbing my hands on my face, “No… Mamá, no sé si puedo… Casi la mato.” (“I can’t do this,”//“I... Mamá, I don’t know if I can… I almost killed her”)

Fighting the tears back, I closed my eyes trying to evoke the face of my mama in my mind: her black and grey long hair, always in a perfect French braid, her dark and wrinkled eyes full of wisdom and warmth, and her thin lips curling in the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Creo que, no estoy hecha para esto,” I stated, helpless. (“I think I’m not cut out for this.”)

Just as I was trying to imagine what she would tell me in a case like this, what words she would use to calm me down and reassure me, I heard the door creaking.

A tall silhouette was standing at the entry, looking directly at me.

“Hey, Luna.”

Friendly voice. Sparkly eyes. Expensive, seductive perfume.

Lahela.

I stared speechless as he walked towards me, his brows knitted in worry, “Are you okay?”

I froze at his question. The sole fact he was there froze me, actually.

There was no way I’d tell him the truth, but I had so many things bottled up from that day; so many emotions, fears, anger, all that demanding to come out, that for a moment I thought I would spill all out.

And the way he was looking at me, evidently worried, waiting for an answer, made it even more plausible. Maybe I could tell him and maybe he would say something that could make me feel good. Just as good as he made me feel that morning on our short trip to the Atrium.

I opened my mouth to respond...

But I couldn’t.

I couldn’t let myself do that. That was not me.

The risk was too big and I was a fucking coward.

So I gulped. I gulped as if I was swallowing all my feelings about to come out of my mouth, sour as bile, to let them deep buried inside of me, where they have always belonged.

I cleared my throat and I said instead, “Yeah, I'm okay…”

He arched an eyebrow, dubious, “You don't look like it. If you need to talk…”

I shook my head, nonchalantly.

He seemed earnestly worried, but I couldn't say anything. I didn't know him, and I don't talk to people I barely know, much less about the mess I was on my first day. And much, much less to another resident who could doubt my potential and right to be there. A fucking surgical resident that thinks is above anyone else.

He was the worst option in all Edenbrook.

Well, after Aurora Emery, of course.

“Don’t worry, it’s all good,” I insisted with a humorless smile, “What are you doing here, by the way? Need some syringes? Don't let me stop you.”

He shook his head this time, “No. I saw you in the hallway, I needed to check if you were okay.”

“I’m…”

I was ready to reply automatically as before, without even considering my answer. It didn't matter how bad I was, I was used to saying everything was okay even if my world was falling apart in a million pieces inside, because it was just pleasantries, force-of-habit questions, and people honestly never gave a shit about it, and it was okay. But this felt different. I couldn’t lie to him, but I also couldn’t tell him the truth.

Bryce probably realized my intern conflict, despite the darkness of the room -only dimly illuminated by some blindings mildly open behind the racks of medical supplies-, because he took a step closer to me, pensive, “Are you sure, Mat-”

The moment I saw him getting closer, I felt dread. Dread because I realized that I was an insistence away from speaking. From letting my resolve crumble and tell him the truth. Just a simple and insignificant truth that meant hell to me.

Before he could reach me, I slid away from him, and sprinted towards the exit, leaving him in the room without looking back.

What the fuck is happening to me?

I couldn't understand it. I’d always kept my shit inside and dealt with it on my own, and when I shared something, it was with someone I deeply trusted, a trust that could take months to get. But why suddenly I wanted to open up to someone I had met that day? Like a chatty drunk, the words wanted to slip out of my mouth, recklessly.

Maybe it was the fact that he had given me attention. Just a bit of attention and my stupid mind gets intoxicated with it. Drunk.

But I had to know better. I knew better. I knew that nothing good could come out of that so I ran away like the coward I am.

_____

If I was already confused before he showed up, after that encounter I was a total mess. And the only way I had to calm down that kind of a mess, to overcome such a shitty, stressful day, was with alcohol. Something that could give me a fucking break from my own mind for a few hours. So once my shift ended, I joined Sienna, another intern, to go together to the bar near Edenbrook.

I could've gone alone, or bought something at a liquor store to drink it alone in my room, but I had promised Sienna I would join her as payback for saving my skin from Dr. Ramsey that afternoon. And I liked her. She seemed genuinely nice among a hospital full of fake and selfish people. Besides, you cannot not trust a person who calls themselves a dolphin, right?

When we got to the bar, packed to the brim with people from the hospital, she led me to a booth where there were other fellow interns she had congregated during the day: Jackie Varma, Landry Olsen, and Elijah Greene. A very diverse group of people.

Elijah was a nerd who couldn’t stop throwing Harry Potter jokes at me since he found out I was renting a room under the stairs of a building, and he was really, really nice, so I couldn't even get mad at him for that.

Jackie was… tough. Competitive to a fault, but she was funny and always had some witty remarks to everyone who talked to her, so that helped me swallow her the rest of the night.

And Landry… Ooof, Landry was… Unreadable. There was something about him that I didn't like. And not precisely his lack of people skills, because, who am I to judge, but he had this air of sufficiency I couldn't stand. Something treacherous. I'd always had this sense with people, and I could sense from the start that I'd never liked him, so I just tried to hang out the less I could with him, and focused on getting to know Sienna and Elijah, the people I found more things in common with.

A couple hours later, tipsy and with all my problems momentarily suspended in midair, I reached the bar for the next round of tequilas for the group.

I had just made my order when I felt a bump in my arm, startling me.

“Hey.”

I turned around and a pair of honey eyes were looking curiously at me.

Holy fuck, not you again.

“Hey, ” I replied, looking at him for a millisecond before fixing my eyes on the dozens of bottles of alcohol in front of me, begging he would just go and leave me alone.

“Are you doing better?”

My eyes widened.

Oh no, is he really? No, please no. Don’t.

But the alcohol had made its effect by now. I could lie blatantly at him without feeling that stupid necessity of telling him the truth. Although it wouldn't be a lie because I was doing better thanks to the tequilas.

“I..., Yeah. I’m… I’m doing better now.”

Hearing my own words, I realized I had just snitched myself.

Stupid, stupid idiot. I should’ve just ignored him.

Saying I was doing better implied I wasn't good before, and I didn't want to recognize that in front of him. I didn't want to give him any permission to pry, more than he had already done.

Too late.

“That’s great, Luna, I’m glad,” he said, heartily.

Sincerely.

Why the fuck everything he says seem so sincere to me?

I turned to him to look for some kind of smirk or smugness, something that could tell me that he was amused by what had happened that afternoon, or a hint of "I gotcha" in his gaze, but he was just looking at me earnestly. With a soft, warm smile and eyes beaming with candor.

It was kind of intriguing that someone like him could look like that. Or maybe he was just a good actor.

Feeling bold because of the alcohol I had in my bloodstream, I dared to turn to him and scan him carefully, realizing details I wasn't able to get when I first met him that morning.

It was like I had only been able to get brushstrokes of him or just certain sensations about him: his warm smile, his vivid golden eyes, his imposing yet stunning beauty, but not so much about details.

Details such as the shape of his eyes -delicate monolid traces around amber and honey hues-, crowned with meticulously groomed eyebrows. His lips, generous and soft; his caramel skin, tanned, his face with sculpted cheekbones and jaw, and impossibly smooth skin. His nose, straight but slightly crooked at the bridge.

After a few moments, he arched an eyebrow, “Yes?”

And his hair -with soft golden streaks- styled in a perfect mess to one side, falling casually over his temple when he leaned one arm onto the bar, breaking the height distance between the both of us. Because he was tall. Or maybe not that tall, but everyone in this damn country was too tall to me. With my 5’2 I was a dwarf to anyone and everyone was a giant to me, so that pose let me inspect him even more carefully.

After seeing all that, there's no wonder why he was so damn handsome.

Just then I realized he was looking expectantly at me, as if I was looking at him to say something.

Oh, no, not again. Eres una vergüenza, Matilde. (You’re an embarrassment, Matilde).

“I…”

What does this human being have that always leaves me speechless?

He chuckled, his eyes wrinkling in amusement, “You’re something else, Luna.”

I blushed. Maybe even more than I already was.

What's that supposed to mean?

Without expecting any reply from me, maybe because he knew I couldn't come up with anything, he added, “Wanna go play darts with me?”

My stomach churned instantly, anxiety metabolizing to the speed of light as I imagined what that entailed.

“N-No, thanks. I don’t play darts. I suck and I don’t pretend to humiliate myself in front of the whole Edenbrook on my first night here.”

Bryce clicked his tongue, “Doesn't matter, I can teach you if you want.”

I wanted to say yes, I really did. Like always in other things. I wanna say yes, but a part of me stops me. The fear of embarrassing myself in front of everybody, of being so dumb people will realize I have no fix, or of feel so nervous that I will ruin everything.

And his sincere smile was telling me he really wanted to teach me and he was hoping I'd say yes, like a puppy waiting for his human to take him for a walk. But, ah, once again. I couldn't.

“I appreciate the offer, but this time I pass.”

“Just this time,” he stressed, pointing a finger to me playfully.

I shook my head, giggling, “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see,” he defied, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Five tequilas ready!” a deep masculine voice announced at the other side of the bar.

I turned around, startled, and I found a tray with five shots of tequilas in front of me, “Thanks!” I looked back at Bryce, “Well, I… I have to go.”

“Need any help?”

“Nah, don’t worry,” I shrugged and took the tray with naturality.

“Ah, you know your stuff,” he pointed with an approving smirk.

I arched an eyebrow, kind of baffled by his implicit skepticism, “Do you?”

“I know a cowboy when I see one,” he winked at me.

It took me a moment to catch his drift.

“Oh.”

I nodded, kind of shocked by that revelation. I had imagined he aced Med School with no worries, using daddy’s credit card and all the commodities frat boys like him have. I would’ve never guessed he had to work his way here, just like me.

“Have a good night, Luna.”

“You too, Lahela. See ya.”

He smiled confidently, knowingly, “See ya.”

----

Thank you so much for reading!!!

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

I thought this was interesting - whether the programme is effective/inclusive/etc enough aside, there’s a couple of points in this article about women and alcohol that could be part of a wider conversation. Also like the nod to the Temperance Movement. Full text below the break.

Holly Whitaker, author of the 2019 New York Times best seller Quit Like a Woman, compares the moment she realized that a life without alcohol was possible to entering the Matrix. Whitaker has never been comfortable with the term alcoholic and didn’t necessarily drink to the extent we imagine many alcoholics do. She drank a lot — sometimes more than a bottle of wine a night* — but not enough, she thought, that it was a problem. Sure, she needed to learn how to moderate, but she wasn’t the sort of person for whom abstinence was necessary. “I really never loved alcohol,” she tells me, but “it didn’t even occur to me that I could quit drinking. I just had to control it better.”

If, in reading this now, you decide your drinking isn’t a problem because you drink less than a bottle of wine a night, Whitaker has your number; she did this too. As long as someone, somewhere, was drinking more than she was, Whitaker writes, she could count herself among the normal drinkers. But when she chose to stop, she decided there was no such thing as “normal” drinking. Friends and acquaintances were disappointed and oddly defensive. “I’m not an alcoholic,” writes Whitaker of reactions to that first attempt at sobriety. “I am someone who has broken our social contract.”

Whitaker’s sobriety suffered a few false starts; an office holiday party provided her a good enough reason to try drinking again after two months off. She quit for good on April 14, 2013, and two years later, she launched an online alcohol-counseling program called Hip Sobriety (later renamed Tempest, in part as an homage to the women-led temperance movement) for 13 members who convened on Facebook. The program was designed to help people — especially women — reach the same epiphany that she had: Alcohol is pointless, poisonous, and even anti-feminist. Six years later, Tempest is a small but mighty alternative to traditional recovery models like rehab and Alcoholics Anonymous. According to Whitaker, more than 10,000 people have joined as paying members. Countless more are fans of Quit Like a Woman — including Chrissy Teigen, who credited the book with her decision to get sober, prompting a rash in sales. Whitaker’s book has sold more than 265,000 copies, and that was before it appeared on a recent episode of And Just Like That … (when Miranda drunk-ordered a copy for herself). As Whitaker’s star rises, so too does the burden of proving her central claims: that Tempest helps women especially to stop drinking and that women especially stand to benefit from sobriety. In the meantime, she has found not only an eager following but an untapped market.

Tempest’s design is straightforward and draws primarily from two practices with established psychological benefits: cognitive behavioral therapy and mindfulness. The former seeks to help members rethink their relationship to alcohol, while mindfulness techniques have been used to reduce cravings for drugs and make practitioners less reactive to triggers. Within its overarching structure, Tempest offers members a number of ways to personalize their participation. Lessons are released on a weekly basis and take roughly two hours to complete on average. There are weekly, hour-long support-group calls, which function not unlike AA meetings (except for the expectation that one will introduce oneself as an alcoholic), as well as weekly, hour-long Q&A calls with coaches or clinicians, during which members may ask more specific questions regarding their recovery experience. Ruby Mehta, Tempest’s clinical director, estimates the average member’s time commitment is between three and five hours per week.

Until recently, Tempest offered a four-week intensive course for $399, which 1,000 people completed in 2021. The company decided to scrap the intensive to simplify its offerings and because it seemed to promote a sort of sobriety hierarchy, says Ruth Sun, who became Tempest’s CEO after Whitaker stepped down last year (she remains on the board of directors). “People were like, ‘Are you saying I’m not serious about my sobriety if I don’t take the intensive? Are you telling me that because I don’t wanna pay this big bill, I’m not as important?’” The intensive also, perhaps, gave members the feeling that they had “finished” working on their sobriety, which wasn’t intentional. Tempest conceives of its members as people with a chronic condition, which means membership is indefinite. Or as Queen Muse, the company’s communications director, puts it, “Core membership isn’t designed to be completed.”

Core Tempest membership begins at $41 a month with an optional coaching add-on ($299 for four individual sessions). Coaches are paid, but they’re peers, not therapists — a model not dissimilar from AA sponsorship, except Tempest coaches aren’t available to members outside of their weekly scheduled 30-minute sessions. Tempest employs seven full-time and five part-time coaches, each of whom is a Tempest member who has achieved at least six months of sobriety and completed a four-to-six-hour training session on techniques like empathetic listening and motivational interviewing.

Tempest also offers select free resources. In 2021 alone, 50,000 people signed up for its free newsletter, bringing the total readership to nearly 100,000. The company recently launched a new, free app called Rethink, which is designed to provide a low-barrier entry point to people who may later decide to join. The app “has self-guided mini-courses and challenges to help people jump-start their journey,” says Sun. “Then, when they’re ready, they have a friendly community they can opt in to through Tempest.”

“We offer a really robust program, whether it’s our group-support calls or our community space or coaching,” says Adriana Pentz, Tempest’s VP of member experience. “There isn’t one specific path that an individual takes as they go through the Tempest experience.” This, she says, is by design: Pentz’s own recovery journey began in AA, which she found “robotic” and rigid. Tempest aims to take a more holistic view, treating not only alcohol addiction but, when possible, the underlying factors that enable it. “I was diagnosed with postpartum depression, and I self-medicated with alcohol,” says Pentz. “A lot of traditional recovery modalities out there want to separate those two things, but I couldn’t heal by trying to separate those issues.”

Although Tempest’s official party line is that it’s not an AA competitor, it’s clear that the company markets and conceives of itself as an attractive alternative — i.e., a competitor. In 2019, Whitaker wrote an op-ed for the New York Times titled “The Patriarchy of Alcoholics Anonymous,” adapted from her book, in which she argued that AA’s foundation as an organization for upper-middle-class white men precludes it from serving women and other marginalized groups with equal efficacy. This is, to an extent, borne out by demographic data: A 2014 membership survey found AA’s membership was 62 percent men and 38 percent women; 89 percent were white. (Tempest’s membership appears to be mostly women, though the company declines to provide specific demographic information. It will say only that 30 percent of paying members belong to at least one of its four identity-group offerings: BIPOC, LGBTQ, people over 50, and parents.)

Particularly damaging, according to Whitaker, is AA’s formulaic humility. “If you’re a woman, you’re most likely not wielding an ego so big it can’t fit through the door or suffering from a pathological lack of humility,” she writes in Quit. “From the outset, AA felt like … the most oppressive thing I could do to my already oppressed spirit.” The first step of AA is to admit powerlessness; for women, Whitaker considers this concession redundant. Raised to question our every move, thought, and feeling, women don’t need to be further broken down. “To a woman or any other oppressed group, being told to renounce power, voice, authority, and desire is just more of the same shit,” she writes. “It’s what made us sick in the first place.”

Unlike AA, Tempest does not ask its members to identify as alcoholics, and in fact encourages them not to, preferring the term alcohol use disorder, or AUD. This is also increasingly preferred by addiction specialists, who find the term alcoholic outdated and marginalizing. “Across every mental-health condition, we’ve moved away from using nomenclature as someone’s identity,” says Ravi Shah, Tempest’s clinical adviser and the chief innovation officer at Columbia University’s department of psychiatry. Just as we no longer say someone “is bipolar” but rather “has bipolar disorder,” so too is it preferred to say someone “has alcohol use disorder.” “I think that’s just a much more inclusive way of speaking,” Shah explains.

However old-fashioned and inflexible, though, AA is also free. Tempest’s inclusive approach is therefore commercial as well as political. By targeting people who “struggle with drinking” or want to “reevaluate their relationship with alcohol,” Tempest casts a much wider (and more profitable) net than many traditional recovery programs do. And, perhaps, so it should. There are far more people who drink too much than will ever attend an AA meeting, and alcohol consumption continues to rise: According to the Journal of the American Medical Association, women’s heavy drinking rose by 41 percent during the pandemic.

The CDC’s standard for “excessive drinking” is likely lower than most Americans realize (or want to acknowledge): eight or more drinks per week for women, 15 or more for men. For women, this averages out to 1.14 drinks per day, a figure many of my women friends and acquaintances copped to meeting (if not exceeding) throughout the pandemic’s darkest months. Having a glass or two of wine a night is, as Whitaker writes, seen as normal, an appropriate way for adults to unwind before bed. But women who drink even that much incur significant health risks, including a 5-to-9 percent increased risk of breast cancer. Alcohol’s ability to cause cancer was established by the World Health Organization in 1988, yet less than half of Americans know it is a carcinogen. The alcohol industry is inclined to keep it that way, and the myth that “moderate” drinking is healthy persists.

It’s a tired millennial joke that everything causes cancer so some level of risk-taking is necessarily accepted as part of living an enjoyable life. Cancer happens later, and we want to relax and have fun now. But health problems among moderate drinkers (defined by the CDC as up to one drink per day for women) can set in much sooner: Alcoholic liver disease has experienced “off the charts” growth in recent years, particularly among people between 25 and 34 years of age. And these are the risks incurred by the drinker herself; harder to quantify are the interpersonal effects that drinking too much can have on the people around her. As Whitaker points out, there is no widely recognized term for the alcohol equivalent of secondhand smoke, though external consequences (among them increased intimate-partner violence, sexual assault, and drunk driving) are incontrovertible.

We tend to think of drinkers in binary terms: those who have a problem, and those whose drinking is normal. With Tempest, Whitaker wants members to ask themselves what, if anything, is so “normal” about drinking at all. “At the core basis of my belief system is that people, when given the right information and the right support systems, can make the best choices for themselves,” she tells me. “I think that extends to what drugs they put in their bodies.”

At times, Tempest’s free-spirited ethos can feel like a modern Moderation Management, a secular AA alternative created in 1994 to enable “non-problematic drinkers” to simply reduce their drinking, rather than stop completely. Whitaker says the Tempest goal is neither to teach people how to drink less nor to force them to stop. “We look at ourselves as a harm-reduction model but not an explicit harm-reduction model,” she says. “When they walk in the door, we’re not confiscating their drugs and giving them a pee cup and saying ‘Now it’s over.’ We start with the basis that it’s about you and how you feel and how your life is working.” Allen Carr’s The Easy Way to Stop Drinking was central to Whitaker’s recovery, and the Tempest approach, like his, aims to remove the wool from drinkers’ eyes — to help them see why they don’t want to drink and don’t have to.

It is, of course, not that simple for everyone; not all drinking results from a lack of information about its consequences. People suffering from severe physical dependence on alcohol may scoff at some of Whitaker’s sharp, if occasionally simplistic, proselytizing. Alcohol use disorder is a spectrum, and people on the severe end can experience withdrawal symptoms in as little as eight hours without a drink. In these cases, clinical intervention — which Tempest is not — may be necessary. That could include a prescription for one of three FDA-approved medications for alcohol use disorder, along with psychosocial treatments like therapy, support groups, and case management, says Edwin Salsitz, an addiction-medicine specialist and associate clinical professor of psychiatry at Mount Sinai. Tempest can’t help everyone with AUD, but it doesn’t have to. Or, as Salsitz puts it to me, “All treatments work for some people; no one treatment works for everyone.” Excessive alcohol use is so common and so damaging that anything aiming to reduce it is welcome to try. The real challenge, of course, is proving it works.

For decades, AA’s reputation relied largely on good faith and anecdotes. Not until relatively recently was there solid evidence that it worked at all. “It took a long time to accumulate proof, including intervention by the Institute of Medicine and the National Academy of Sciences to get some rigorous controlled trials done,” says John Kelly, a professor of psychiatry in addiction medicine at Harvard Medical School. “In the last 30 years, there’ve been dozens. There’s very strong evidence now that AA is an effective recovery support structure.”

Whether Tempest wants to be known as an AA competitor or not, AA’s efficacy is one standard against which Tempest will be measured. Because the company was founded just six years ago, many more years may pass before anyone can say with any real rigor that it works. In 2018, in partnership with the University of Buffalo and Syracuse University, Tempest conducted its first efficacy study, from which it prominently highlights the following findings in its marketing: Subjects who completed the eight-week program designed for the study reported a 50 percent reduction in alcohol cravings, 66 percent fewer drinks consumed on a typical drinking day, and a 25 percent reduction in anxiety and depression. These are impressive figures but are considerably diluted by the study’s design as well as the bias inherent in research done by a company with a product to sell. While the study’s initial sample size was 541 people, only 72 completed a full year’s worth of follow-up assessments, and there was no control group against which Tempest was measured. The study’s authors judiciously enumerate these limitations, noting that “observational research cannot discern causality.” There is no way to know that Tempest was responsible for the reductions in drinking, anxiety, and depression. Similar fluctuations might have occurred in any group observed over a year with no intervention at all. Furthermore, the sample is highly homogenous; the vast majority of subjects were highly educated white women with low average levels of alcohol use.

Shah, Tempest’s clinical adviser, has a different take on the study. “I thought it was a fantastic start,” he tells me. “If you look at much larger mental-health companies out there, they have very little if anything in the way of randomized control evidence.” That Tempest has done this kind of research at all, Shah says, is a sign the company is invested in proving what works and learning from what doesn’t.

It’s true, too, that Tempest can’t be faulted for what doesn’t yet exist; long-term conclusions can’t be expected from such a young company. Short-term conclusions can, however, be overstated, and with all addictions, there is a sizable caveat to short-term success. “It’s relatively easy, no matter what treatment you choose to undergo, to do well in the near term to either stop drinking or to reduce drinking or drink more safely,” says Salsitz. “The problem with AA is that people stop going, and relapse rates are very high over the long term. Relapse rates are fairly high in the long term in all addictions.”

Here, I expect Whitaker may balk at the perceived pessimism. One of the things she dislikes most about AA folklore, she writes, is that “admitting a drinking problem meant alcoholism, and alcoholism meant a life sentence.” It’s not that Whitaker doesn’t believe certain individuals are more vulnerable to alcohol addiction (she does, and she considers herself one of them); it’s just that alcohol is addictive for everyone, and if we start there, no sober-curious individual need consider herself uniquely predestined to fall off the wagon.

For Whitaker, this approach offered a much-needed alternative, and it has worked for her. “You could not have gotten me to go to a Twelve Step meeting, and even though I was making six figures a year, I could not afford the time or the expense of rehab,” she says. “When it comes to addiction, it’s not that we’re so flooded with options. We don’t have any.”

Addiction experts are inclined to agree with this assessment. Even if there’s more evidence that other methods are effective, says Kelly, they’re far from capturing the full range of heavy drinkers. Tempest may be especially attractive, and therefore useful, to people who, like Whitaker, are turned off by AA or unable to afford the time and financial costs that can come with rehab (which can amount to tens of thousands of dollars). “I think the key thing is not to get stuck on one form of treatment,” says Salsitz. “If one form is not working well, move to another form.”

Valentine, a 33-year-old Tempest member and former volunteer, tried so many alcohol recovery methods they’re now launching a podcast about it called Recovery Disco. “I was in AA for five years, in and out of homelessness, and it didn’t work,” they tell me. Meditation and Buddhism finally helped them get sober, but they struggled to find a community that could provide continuous, meaningful support — until they came to Tempest. “I was tired of running into so much sexism and homophobia and transphobia in the recovery communities I’ve been in,” they tell me. By providing an inclusive atmosphere and an alternate approach, Tempest enabled Valentine to envision long-term sobriety for the first time. That atmosphere has proven supportive in unexpected ways, too. “I didn’t start transitioning outwardly until I was in Tempest because I was in a community of women, and I was able to really honor that part of myself and my feminine gender,” Valentine explains, adding that they completed the Tempest intensive more than ten times (nine of them for free in exchange for volunteering).

A 46-year-old member named Olga rediscovered Tempest during the pandemic, when she found herself drinking to cope with the stresses of lockdown and remote schooling her two children. She had mentally bookmarked Tempest years earlier, back when it was called Hip Sobriety, but only recently decided she wanted to use it to stop drinking for good. She signed up in late June of last year, had a “last hurrah” for the Fourth of July, and then began the now-defunct intensive course; she has remained a core member. Olga was drawn to Tempest not only because it’s geared toward women but because it seemed to have a lower bar for entry, so to speak. “I don’t want to rag on AA because I know it really helps a lot of people, but for me it’s a last resort,” she says. “Tempest advertised itself as, We’re not for those who are in a health crisis when it comes to drinking; we don’t do detox. This is more for a lifestyle change.”

Whitaker’s marriage of feminism and alcohol abstinence is effective insofar as she has created a community in which women and queer people who feel unwelcome or unsafe at AA can explore a different road to sobriety. Less convincing are those parts of her book in which she veers into The Secret territory, imbuing the act of not drinking with values and powers I’m not sure it has. In a Rachel Hollis–esque chapter called “Working With Our Core Beliefs,” Whitaker performs a white feminist rite of passage: invoking not really comparable public figures of color. She writes that real power, like that acquired via questioning one’s relationship with alcohol, is “the kind of power that people like Nelson Mandela and Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks and the Dalai Lama all had or have — a quality within unaffected by outer circumstances, an eternal flame that cannot be touched.”

It’s simply much healthier for women (like everyone) not to drink than to drink, but this fact alone can’t fill a best-selling book or launch a for-profit recovery program or, perhaps, convince as many people to stop. The belief that we can radically change our own lives for the better, as the direct result of some “new” philosophy or financial investment or weight-loss regimen, is essential to the self-help genre, and in that respect, Quit Like a Woman is no different. But where other gurus may encourage readers to spend money on what amounts to empty promises, Whitaker’s pitch — that your life will improve if you stop drinking or even drink less — is hard to object to, given alcohol’s many harms. Still, it’s unclear how, exactly, sobriety may confer the sort of sociopolitical influence Whitaker seems to envision (“What if we all rejected the poison — then what? I’ll tell you what: world domination, bitches”), particularly for women who aren’t already advantaged, as so many Tempest members are.

Sobriety is measured in ever-expanding increments of time: days, then weeks, then months, and then years. Getting good long-term data takes decades, as success tends to be defined by the absence of relapse; just because someone has stopped drinking for a month or a year doesn’t necessarily mean she won’t drink again. Overall rates of alcohol relapse are high but unevenly distributed, says Salsitz. People with homes, jobs, money, and support systems — people like most of Tempest’s members — are much more likely to have better outcomes than people without. And while it’s too soon to say how many of Tempest’s 10,000 (and counting) paying members have stopped drinking for good, its adherents are effusive, and that’s not nothing. What that number clearly indicates is a real need for support. Albeit prone to the occasional girlboss flourish, Tempest aims to provide it. Does it matter how exactly one’s sobriety is accomplished as long as one accomplishes it? As Salsitz so succinctly puts it, “It’s whatever works.”

*Correction: This story has been updated to more accurately depict Whitaker’s prior relationship with alcohol.