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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years ago

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Whisky Secrets (sequel)

Here's something different. Before I ever thought about posting fanfic here, I used to write things inspired by fanfic I found by some of the incredible writers I found on tumblr. I've never posted any of them but I've really felt like writing something for Aleister Black/ Tommy End lately.

So I reached out to one of my original favourites on this site, @ghostofviperwrites and asked her if she'd mind if I published this sequel I wrote to her story Whisky Secrets. She gave me the ok (for which I thank her very much).

You absolutely have to read her piece first or this won't make any sense. It picks up literally at the point where hers leaves off and the entire premise is based on what she wrote. I think this goes in a very different direction than what she had in mind, though.

Since this is an old story, some of the characters are very different than they are now. It was set at around the time I wrote it. Based on events in the story, it's pretty clear when that was.

It's a bit dated but I hope you enjoy.

Pairing: Aleister Black x OFC (hints of Roman Reigns x OFC)

Word count: 7,031

Content advisory: graphic sexual content, language, incidental roughness that some might find stressful

You rested on the sofa for too long, knowing that you had to get to work, that you were already behind on an assignment that was due that afternoon. As much as you desperately wanted to cling to the scent and the feeling of him being there with you and the idea that he might someday want to be there with you for longer, you knew that you were only wasting time by indulging in a fantasy. Once again, you reminded yourself, he saw you as a friend, a landing pad after he was finished his adventures. And so you dragged yourself to the computer and tried to focus.

It was a fluff piece you’d been hired to write: places for new residents of Orlando to meet people. You’d accepted it because the pay was good and it had seemed easy. But what the hell did you know about meeting people? You’d barely met anyone and the only ones that you’d call friends were the ones you met when you’d done an in-depth profile on the WWE and their development territory NXT. Of those, only Aleister had remained close and even then, you couldn’t say that the two of you had ever properly opened up to each other. Nevertheless, you’d stayed in touch with a number of them, occasionally meeting for coffee or drinks. None of this was in any way useful when it came to recommending locations to connect with strangers.

You’d tried to start the article the day before but now when you opened the file, you discovered that you’d only come up with a half a dozen corny titles and one word of text:

When?

The word was too painfully appropriate.

When were you going to run out of luck and be unable to find further work as a journalist?

When were you going to admit that what kept you here, rather than moving to another state and pursuing more secure work, was the fact that you were in love with a man who was only interested in your capacity as a friend and caregiver?

When was your hopeless love going to break you beyond repair?

Annoyed with yourself, you deleted the word and tried to start again. You could meet people at the gym classes that were ubiquitous in this city. You could meet people at get-togethers for shared hobbies like hiking or pottery or basically anything. No one had to meet people by getting thrown into their orbit and being unable to extricate themselves.

About half an hour into your resentful hammering on the keyboard, you were startled by your doorbell. For one sweet instant, you imagined that it was Aleister dropping by to pass some time with you. Then you realized that he never came to you without an invitation unless it was dead drunk in the middle of the night. Even when you invited him, it was only every fourth or fifth time that you asked that he agreed to come over and watch a movie or go for a walk in the nearby park. There was no way it was him at your door at eleven o’clock in the morning.

In fact, the person at your door was Bayley, chipper and warm as always, returning the spare laptop you’d lent her a few weeks before.

“Thank you so much,” she beamed, thrusting the computer into your hands. “You are a lifesaver. I’d have lost my goddamn mind if I hadn’t had this while mine was in the shop.”

“It was nothing,” you insist, smiling at her unconstrained warmth even though you didn’t feel very positive about your life at that moment. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”

She nodded cheerily and stepped across the foyer. You never really knew how you fit in with the women of WWE, even though you’d spoken to many of them in depth. Bayley stood out because she was determined to be your friend despite your introvert’s reluctance. And, indeed, she was irresistible. Much like her in-ring character, she cast sunshine wherever she went and her glow was contagious, even in your darkest and lowest moments.

You motioned her into the kitchen, offering her a choice of lemonade, iced tea or water. Her eyes immediately fell on the empty whiskey bottle you’d left on the counter, her expression growing more serious as she focused on it.

“Getting started early?” she cajoled.

“A friend left that here,” you replied guiltily.

She narrowed her dark eyes as she looked at you. Sweet and optimistic as she was, Bayley was not naïve. She knew exactly what friend had left the bottle behind and she knew how you felt about him.

“I’ll have a glass of lemonade,” she said, the smile slowly returning to her face.

You joined her and the two of you jokingly touched glasses before drinking.

“So, a few of us are getting together tonight,” she said hesitantly. “I thought you might like to join us.”

Your first instinct was to ask if Aleister would be there, but you thought better of it. Instead, you responded, “Well, I have an article I need to finish.”

Of course, your article was due by the end of the afternoon, which meant that your evening was free regardless, but part of you wanted to be at home in case Aleister came staggering over again.

Bayley’s jaw set in a determined expression you’d only seen from her in the ring. “We’re having a party for Roman, to celebrate him going into remission.”

Well now you felt like a bit of a bitch for making excuses and didn’t know what to say.

“It won’t just be wrestlers there. Some other journalists are even coming. And I know that it would mean a lot to him if you were there.”

When you’d done your article on the WWE, you’d interviewed Roman Reigns and he’d been incredibly generous with his time. He’d even contacted you after your interviews to confirm that you had all the detail you needed. He was the face of the company and had done everything possible to make sure that the company had provided what you required. He’d clearly wanted to make sure they’d left a good impression and you couldn’t help but be impressed by his PR skills. Although you knew it wasn’t true that it “would mean a lot to him”, you were touched by the idea that he remembered you and might like you to be there to celebrate his great news. At the same time… you needed to be there for Aleister.

“Look,” Bayley insisted, “I’m going to text you the details for the bar where we’ll be. It’s not a big deal, just a bunch of us getting together to be happy for our friend.”

There was no way that you could refuse that, so you shyly thanked her as she gulped the rest of her lemonade and made for the door.

“I’m serious,” she said as she departed. “You work so damn hard you deserve a night off. Finish what you’re doing and come have fun with us.”

As soon as she’d left, you once again sat down at your computer. Before you could return your attention to your work, however, you couldn’t resist checking Instagram.

Someone had tagged Aleister in a photo on Instagram.

Yes, you were that pathetic that you always checked.

With trepidation, you clicked the link to look at what was there. As it too often did, the notification came from an airbrushed-looking woman, her collagen-enhanced lips pressed against his. She looked arrogant and proud, while he looked smug and inebriated.

“Guess who I got to hang with last night?” the caption gloated.

You knew damn well what “hang” was a euphemism for. He never cared that the Barbie dolls he hooked up with advertised their conquest on social media. He was single and hot. Why should he care if people knew that he always scored with the sort of women other men lusted after? Why should he care that it ripped your heart to shreds every time you saw him with another woman so unlike you in every way?

The woman had posted a few other photos of the two of them together, embracing. Every part of her magazine-ready body was on display, save those parts that would have gotten her in trouble. Her artificially perfect breasts were spilling out of a tiny tube top while her endless legs were shown in their full glory between the edge of a skirt that likely required her to trim her pubic hair and the sky high heels that raised her enough to press her lips to his without having to stretch herself awkwardly. She was nothing like you, with your unkempt hair and loose, bohemian dresses, your comfortable ballet flats and blandly natural face. She had all the glamour that you lacked and he ate it up.

The images of the two of them cut into you like a laser and, for once, all you desired was to break free from the pain of feeling. A few minutes later, when Bayley sent the text she’d promised with the details of where you could find the party tonight, you immediately responded.

“I’ll be there. I promise.”

To hell with Aleister and the designer women he adored, you told yourself as you returned to your article with a vengeance. Tonight you were going to do whatever it took to break the spell he had cast over you.

It was just after nine when you found yourself teetering to the entrance of the bar where the party was taking place. It was marked only by a subtle sign, no words, just a stylized anchor, and it was hidden away on a tiny street that was hardly more than an alley. In your fit of pique, you’d finished your article two hours before your deadline and then, having examined the options in your closet and found them wanting, headed out and spent entirely too much money on a new dress that clung perfectly to your breasts before flaring out to highlight the movements of your body, while covering just the bare minimum to maintain decency. You’d also picked up a stylish pair of ankle boots with heels higher than you were used to and that posed a legitimate threat as you made your way down the roughly paved road to the speakeasy-style bar.

A little further down the alley, you see a couple leaning against a car, taking turns swigging from a liquor bottle. The woman is one of those glamorous animals that makes you so insecure, laughing in drunken delight in a way that only confident people can. In one quick movement the man spins her around and bends her over the hood of the car. He immediately takes out his cock, stroking it a couple of times before he thrusts into her, one hand on her back while the other holds the bottle that he continues drinking from. And it’s a moment before you realize that it’s Aleister, fucking away at a woman whose name he won’t remember in a few hours.

The sight makes you want to curl up and die, makes you want to say that you’ve made a mistake and run along home so you can bawl your eyes out while you wait for his inevitable drunken arrival. But, if nothing else, the damage that you’ve done to your credit card in order to make yourself look just a bit more sexy and edgy than usual, as well as the glasses of wine you had already consumed to fortify your courage, push you forward. This is a test. In order to pass, you need to be able to ignore the man whose indifference is killing you and enter the world of others, where someone who wasn’t up to the standards of the rarified model girls might be willing to give you a second look.

Aleister doesn’t even glance up as you enter the bar a few feet away from him, can’t feel the dark weight of your eyes on him or the force with which you tear them away as you step through the door.

As soon as you do, you are once again frozen with the idea that you’ve made a mistake. When Bayley characterized this as a “get-together”, you’d assumed it meant a group of people spread out around a few tables chatting away and toasting Roman’s health. Instead, what greets you is a basement club full of people with a dance floor alive with writhing bodies. You recognize a few journalists but for the most part, the space is taken up with every WWE and NXT star you’ve ever heard of. It’s a convention of beautiful people and you can’t help but feel dowdy even in your overpriced finery.

You slowly descend the stairs, fully intending to look around, say hello to a few familiar faces and then bolt for the exit, but you’re immediately greeted by a familiar voice that fairly shrieks. “Oh my god woman, just look at you!”

It’s Sasha Banks, standing at the edge of the stairs with Bayley, who gives you an exaggerated round of applause.

“Miranda, you look amazing,” Sasha continues breathlessly. “Seriously, you’re putting everyone to shame.”

You don’t feel like you’re putting anyone to shame, least of all Sasha in her body suit that hugs every curve of her perfect little hourglass, but you blush at the compliment.

“Come on,” Bayley gushes, “we need shots to celebrate your hotness!”

She pulls both of you through the crowd to the bar and somehow is able to get the bartender’s attention almost immediately, ordering two rounds of tequila shots because, she tells you and Sasha, there’s no point in getting just one round when you know you’re going back for seconds. The three of you toast and toss down the shots and then immediately do so again and you have to admit that you’re feeling the warm glow already. Sasha, apparently feeling something herself, wraps her arms around you and once again reassures you that you are devastatingly beautiful.

Another shot is thrust into your hand, this time by Dash Wilder, who’s arrived with his Revival partner Scott Dawson. Wilder has always been attractive to you, so you give him as radiant a smile as you can manage and you swear he blushes a little just before he downs his shot. Dawson is hugging Sasha and Bayley close to him, allowing Dash to edge a little closer to you and you’re feeling a little high on yourself when another voice cuts through your circle.

“Miranda? Holy fuck I can’t believe you’re here!”

Roman Reigns pushes right through the bodies close to the bar and grabs you firmly by the shoulders, his eyes gradually focusing on yours. He’s grinning with an intensity that clearly comes from his being a little past feeling no pain but it doesn’t hamper the thrill it gives you when he wraps his arms around you and nearly crushes you in a hug.

“I mean, shit, I don’t think I’ve even talked to you since you did that interview,” he pouts. “Thank you so much for coming.”

You smile as another shot is pushed into your hand, biting your lip self-consciously. You down about half the shot before Roman grabs it from you and finishes it, breaking up with laughter. He signals the bartender for another round, keeping an arm around your back until the tray of shots arrives. You’re all toasting each other and you wonder why you ever questioned yourself for coming here because this is exactly what you needed.

“Come dance with me,” Roman chuckles, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the dance floor. He’s clearly floating on a sea of drunken bliss, goofing around and happy to have someone to have fun with, someone he didn’t expect to be there. Even if you wanted to resist his offer, you couldn’t because, while he isn’t doing anything that might hurt you, his grip is strong enough and the rest of him powerful enough to compel you forward.

The two of you deliberately dance like complete nerds in high school, awkward movements and ironic posturing until you’re both laughing so hard you can barely stand. It’s then that you realize that you’ve become the focus of some attention; Roman goddamn Reigns, the face of the company, the locker room leader, the man who everyone has come to celebrate, is dancing with you. Most of the people here have no idea who you are but because you’re with Roman, you are somebody. Basking in the subtle attention and envy, you close your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in the music, swaying to the beat until you feel a large pair of hands on your hips.

You open your eyes to see Roman pulling you closer to him with a devilish grin before spinning you around and pulling your back against his massive chest. You continue to move but at a slower pace, your movements limited by how close he’s holding you and the sensual way in which his body moves against yours. Keeping one arm loosely around you, he lets his other hand fall against your thigh, lightly playing with the hem of your dress. It makes you gasp.

“You never responded to any of my texts,” he murmurs gruffly in your ear.

You remember at least half a dozen messages asking if he could clarify anything or if you needed any additional material for your article. You hadn’t needed anything else but you suddenly feel terribly rude for not answering.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “you were very professional and I should have at least told you that I had what I needed.”

His voice drops even lower as he speaks. “I didn’t mean to be professional about them. And I was hoping that you didn’t have everything you needed.”

He pulls you up and firmly against him and for the first time you can feel his hardening cock through his pants. You can’t help but thrust your hips into him, barely able to process what’s happening to you. The two of you are still ostensibly dancing, although it’s more like a rhythmic grinding to the music as he reaches down and pulls the hem of your dress up, rubbing your thigh and then your ass as he presses his lips into your neck. His hands are everywhere on you and you’re aware that your entire lower body is basically on display for anyone who cares to look but you don’t care because it feels like you’ve won the lottery. You moan at the feeling of his growing excitement against your flesh, both his large hands grazing up the front of your thighs and for a moment you think that you’re ready to beg him to take you right there when you’re violently spun away from your dance partner, a bruising grip on your arm.

It’s Aleister, eyes incandescent with rage as he tells Roman, “I need to speak to her for a minute.”

Roman looks confused and tries to speak to you but Aleister drags you away and a gaggle of women immediately descend on Roman, desperate to take your place.

Aleister flings you against the wall, glaring at you with an intensity that you’ve never seen outside the ring.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

“I was dancing before you interfered,” you snap back at him, rubbing your arm.

“Dancing?” he repeats with derision. “That’s what you call that?”

“I was having fun.”

“What the hell are you wearing?”

For the first time since you saw him with his woman of choice outside, you feel ridiculous, like a girl trying to look glamorous by donning her mother’s clothes.

“I wanted something a little different.”

“A little?” he hisses back. “Do you realize what you look like? You’re all tarted up and letting some guy grab at you and get you half naked in front of a bar full of people.”

“What I look like?”

“Everyone could see practically your whole goddamned body. They could see what you were letting him do to you.”

“You mean to say I look like a whore.”

Aleister crosses his arms and glances away, refusing to confirm what you’ve said.

“So what, Aleister? So what if I’m letting a man touch me and show me that he wants me? Who cares who else sees? Maybe that’s what I want!”

“Are you so stupid that you think he wants you for anything other than a one night stand?”

The accusation stabs at your heart and your confidence but you’re determined not to let him see that.

“Again, so what? Maybe I’m happy to have this big, gorgeous man want me. Maybe I’m fine bringing him back to my place for a few hours of fun because at least it means someone is thinking of me as a sexual being for a change.” You pause, knowing the danger of what you’re about to say but unable to stop yourself. “Maybe I’d be fine if he just took me outside and fucked me over the hood of a car.”

For a second, you think that Aleister is going to strangle you. The look on his face is like the moment before the sky erupts in thunder and lightning. Truthfully, you expect that he’ll turn on his heel and walk away from you and never come back, and perhaps that’s what you need him to do so that you can get over him.

Instead, he grabs you, pinning you to the side of his body and pulling you towards the door. His movements make you stumble, and the more you try to resist him, the more ungainly you look.

“She’s dead drunk,” you hear him assure a few people, “I’m going to make sure she gets home.”

And while it’s true that you are drunk, you’re not nearly as drunk as he’s making you out to be. The second he has you outside, you try to twist away from him and go back, only for him to wind you closer, pulling you off balance so that you look even more inebriated.

You hear him whisper to Seth Rollins, who’s observing the spectacle through the corner of his eyes. “Look, tell Roman that she’s falling down drunk and I just had to get her home. No disrespect meant.”

Seth has a confused expression on his face but nods and tells him, “Sure thing.”

Realizing what Aleister is doing, you once again try to rush past him, but he blocks you, gripping your arm and pulling you after him so that you really do appear pathetically unable to take care of yourself.

“Why the fuck are you doing this to me?” you shout at him, figuring that there’s no reason to worry about who might hear you, there being no further you can sink in their estimation. “Why can’t you just let me enjoy myself?”

“Jesus, Miranda, you’re loaded. You can barely stand up.” He emphasizes this by jerking your arm forward, which almost causes you to keel over onto your face. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“No,” you insist, pulling yourself to a halt. “I knew what I was doing. I knew what I wanted. Sure I’m a bit tipsy but-“

“You don’t want that,” Alesiter snaps, threading his arm through yours and continuing down the street. “You don’t just want to whore yourself out for a night because you think it might help your self-esteem.”

“You don’t get to decide what I want, Aleister.” You’re crushed against his side and he’s moving so quickly that your feet only graze the ground every third or fourth step. “Let me go. I’m sick of playing the surrogate mother for someone who’s incapable of seeing me as a real woman. I want to go back there. I want to have someone make a show of wanting me. I want to get fucked so hard I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Aleister shakes his head like a parent frustrated with a misbehaving child. “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”

“So let me be ridiculous!” you yell back, trying unsuccessfully to extricate yourself from his grip. “What the hell is it to you? Are you worried that for once I’m not going to be there when you need a place to collapse at four in the morning?”

The two of you reach the corner where the alley meets the street and he swings you to face him, glowering at you with a terrifying expression, gripping your biceps so hard you know you’ll be bruised in the morning. He says nothing but stares at you until he whips his arm out and hails a taxi seemingly out of nowhere.

He launches you, there’s no other word for it, into the back seat of the car and snarls your address to the driver as your tears start to fall. The cabbie is noticeably uncomfortable with your quiet whimpering and seems confused by the fact that Aleister does nothing to comfort or engage you. He sits with his arms folded, scowling, until you arrive at your building. Reflexively, you reach for your purse only to have Aleister swat your hand away and pay the driver himself. You try to keep pace as he yanks you towards the door, but stumble because of your unsure footing in these strange heels and because your vision is glazed by the tears you’re fighting to hold in.

When Aleister pins you against the door and rummages through your purse to find your keys, it somehow feels more invasive than Roman gripping your ass for an entire bar full of people to see. You feel, for a moment, that he is looking at you with tenderness. But when the door opens, he simply guides you through it. As you hear it click shut, the last of your strength, physical and emotional, gives out and you drop to your knees, finally allowing the tears to fall. It’s a full-on ugly cry, punctuated by guttural, anguished sounds you’d never allow anyone else to hear. Despite everything, you desperately want to hear the door open again behind you and to hear him say that he’s realized he loves you.

But no, in the end, he’s just found it gross that the woman he sees as his caregiver might have another side. He found you pathetic in your overpriced dress and shoes. He knew that you were desperately trying to act like something you could never be: like someone who could compete with the perfected Instagram beauties he fucks every night. You could never be that. He knew that you were just a sad little woman decked out in a gaudy outfit. You’d never be that sexy, desirable person who stopped men dead in their tracks, no matter what your dance with Roman had temporarily led you to believe.

You’re on your knees for what seems like hours, choking on tears and snot and trying to restrain yourself from howling. Just as the sound overpowers you and a low wail escapes your lips, you’re startled by a pair of arms, familiar, tattooed arms wrapping around your waist from behind.

“Shh. There’s no need for any of that,” he grunts into your hair.

And while you’re shocked and thrilled that he actually stayed behind to make sure that you were ok, it’s also even more humiliating that he’s seen you fall apart so spectacularly. Your body feels limp with defeat and unable to react at all as he gathers you up and carries you into your bedroom, setting you gently on the edge of the bed. He rests his hand on yours for a moment and you’re able to stem the flow of tears until he stands up and heads back towards the door. This time, you’re determined to hold in the worst of your misery until you’re sure he’s gone, even though you can’t stop the tears from running down your face.

But after a few minutes of straining to hear the door close, you see Aleister return, a damp washcloth in hand, and he sits once again beside you on the edge of the bed. He presses the cloth, cool and soothing, against your cheeks and then holds your chin as he delicately wipes it across your face. It takes you some minutes to realize that he’s removing your smeared makeup, cleaning you off so that you look good as new, so that you look more like the plain girl who lets him into her home in the middle of the night, his touch filled with a tenderness that you never imagined him capable of. When he’s satisfied with his work, he tosses the cloth aside and wraps an arm around you, pulling you close against him. The sweetness of his friendly gesture makes you want to cry all over again but you choke it back, knowing that you’ll have plenty of time for that when he’s gone.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he whispers, the sound of his voice making you feel weak.

You nod and roughly pull back from him, unsure of your ability to stop yourself from throwing yourself at him and begging him to wreck you. You fumble with the zipper of your boots until Aleister slides off the bed and onto his knees and removes it for you. He glides his hand along your calf, up to your thigh and then moves to your other boot. As he slides it off, he presses his head against the side of your knee, giving the skin a light kiss before rocking back on his haunches. You know he’s being gentle with you because he feels sorry for you. He finds you pitiful, which is even worse than finding you asexual.

The feelings are too much for you to take and all you can think of is that you want to get into bed where you’ll be safe and where you can sleep off the nightmare your evening out has become. You clumsily shed your dress, stockings, bra and panties without thinking much of the fact that you have an audience. Why should it bother him seeing you naked, after all? Normally, you put on some nightclothes but you don’t even have the strength to bother. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Aleister has turned his head towards the door. He’s embarrassed for you, the way you would be if a parent or sibling was undressing around you.

You crawl under the covers with a grumbled “good night” and immediately start to feel yourself drift off. You’re jolted back to wakefulness when Aleister climbs in beside you. In all the time you’ve known him, as many nights as he’s come and collapsed on your sofa, you don’t think he’s ever seen your bedroom. Now, having seen it, he’s apparently happy not to leave it, indulging in the comfort of your bed without even asking permission. It makes you a little self-conscious that you’re nude but it’s hardly the most humiliating thing to happen to you tonight, so you let yourself ignore it. If you can just fall asleep, this night will be over and you can begin the process of trying to forget it.

It’s only a matter of seconds, though, until you feel his body pressed against yours from behind, one hand coming to rest flat on your stomach and pushing you back against him so that you are acutely aware that you are not the only person naked in the bed. The hand on your stomach flutters downward until his fingers are moving lightly over your pussy, like he’s plucking the strings of a harp. His other arm wraps around your shoulders and keeps you flush against him, close enough that you can’t mistake the feeling of his erection against your back.

He presses his lips and tongue against your neck, making you whimper as you try to keep your heart rate stable. Your little noises seem to motivate him further, his touch becoming more insistent and one of his legs snaking over yours, pulling it back to give his hand greater access.

“Such a little fool,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking insistently along your fleshy folds. “Thinking I don’t see you as a sexual being.”

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, making you cry out- more from the shock than the pain. His mouth continues to move around your neck and shoulders, nipping and sucking on the skin there, his grip on you tightening until it’s nearly painful.

“What are you doing?” you manage to ask.

“Leaving marks,” he says matter-of-factly.

You’re at a loss for what to say, but are saved from having to answer as he pushes two fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. You’re embarrassed that he must have felt how wet you were just from being in his presence but he says nothing, quickening his pace and giving satisfied little growls when his touch elicits gasps and cries of pleasure from you.

It’s pity, you remind yourself; what he’s doing to you, he’s doing it because he feels sorry for you and because he’s drunk and horny despite his encounter earlier in the evening. But the thought gets whisked away as he brings you closer and closer to what you’ve desperately needed from him for so long. You let out a little shriek when he removes his hand, unable to believe he’s so cruel as to bring you to the precipice and then deny you. But he simply flips you onto your back before pressing his fingers inside you once more, watching your reactions to be sure he’s hitting just the right spot before burying his face between your legs. His tongue, lips and fingers work together like an orchestra. Your knuckles are white from the force of clenching on the sheets and you’re biting down so hard on your lip to muffle the sounds you’re making that you’re worried your teeth will end up permanently embedded. He unexpectedly raises his head and stills the movement of his hand inside you and the shock is almost enough to make you start crying again. You look down at him, his eyes sparkling in the low light with an expression you can’t read.

“Why won’t you let me hear you?”

Because you don’t want him to know how good his merciful little gesture is making you feel. Because you don’t want to admit to yourself that it’s better than you’d imagined. Truthfully, whenever you’ve thought about the mechanics of sex with Aleister, you imagined that it would be fast and rough and hedonistic, much like his other sexual encounters seem to be. But he’s chosen this moment to take his time, to focus on his partner, rather than go for a quick, dirty fuck in a darkened corner.

You don’t tell him any of this, instead croaking out, “I’m shy.”

He raises himself up and over your body with the effortless grace of a serpent, pressing his head close to yours and kissing along your jawline.

“What do I have to do to make you not be shy?”

“I don’t know… I just… am.” You wriggle a little under him, turning your face away when he looks directly into your eyes.

He cups your face in one hand and runs the other, still wet with your juices, over your breast, teasing the nipple and making you shudder involuntarily.

“Am I moving too fast?”

You shake your head, not quite trusting your voice.

“Is there something that you’d enjoy more? Something you want me to do for you?”

You give him another little shake of the head.

“You don’t have to be shy with me. Whatever you want, I want you to tell me so I can give it to you. Anything.”

For the first time, he kisses you on the lips, his tongue, that still tastes of you, slides against yours and the hand at the side of your face slides to hold your neck, cradling your head so that you don’t have to tense any muscles to stay in that position. Your body has nothing it needs to do but experience the sensations he’s creating. Of course, you still answer his kiss, hungrily flashing your tongue against his, reveling in the light scrape of his lip ring against your lips. His hand glides back down between your legs, and even the proximity is enough to draw a couple of little mewls of pleasure. You feel him smile a little against your lips at the noises and he pulls away from the kiss.

“Am I making you feel good?”

You nod as he starts to work his fingers around your entrance once again.

“Do you want my mouth down there again?”

You nod even more vigorously than the first time but he shakes his head.

“Tell me. Say it out loud.”

You open your mouth to do so and he immediately thrusts his long fingers into your g-spot and your clit at once, making you yelp in pleasure. It’s almost enough to make you cum on its own but he eases the pressure before you reach that peak.

“Yes?” he asks again.

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

“Then let me hear you. Please.”

He returns his attention to your core and has you making all manner of unholy noises in short order. He expertly teases you and then holds back, so many times that when he does finally take you over the edge, you feel like you might pass out from the intensity of it. Your gasps for breath sound cavernous in the quiet room.

He keeps the palm of his hand firmly against you as he leans forward and presses his lips into your neck, letting out a satisfied purr every time an aftershock rolls through your body.

When he’s satisfied that you’ve fully come down, he raises himself up on his arms, giving just the hint of a smile when you grab onto his biceps to steady yourself.

He’s so rigid that he doesn’t even need a hand to guide himself into you. He simply presses forward in one slow but sure moment, his eyes closed as if it’s a kind of religious experience, not opening them until he’s fully seated inside you. It’s been long enough since you’ve been with anyone that the feeling of being stretched draws a little whimper from your throat. He remains still, his eyes open and bearing down on you with a delirious kind of excitement, aching prick twitching inside you, desperate to proceed but waiting for a signal that he can.

And it’s at that moment that you allow yourself to think that this isn’t pity or a drunken mistake, that he’s as hungry for you as you have been for him and that what’s happened tonight has just served to connect a circuit. The fiercely possessive look in his eyes as he watches you, the fury when he thought someone else was claiming you, the need to mark you to make you his, the flush of pure lust on his face and chest… it is just a little frightening, something you suspected was in him but never that it was focused on you. But you’ve always known you could handle his darkness if he let you in. So you thrust your hips a little and wrap your legs loosely around his waist to show him that he can continue. Just as he starts to move, he cups your face and presses his mouth to your ear.

“You deserve so much better.”

“Stop trying to make those decisions for me,” you moan, feeling your insides flutter with his movements.

“I’ve never felt anything like that jealousy.” He’s staring into your eyes as he confesses. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder pressing deeper inside you and gasping at the feeling. “Knowing that everyone could see how sexy and beautiful you are… And I’m an idiot for waiting for that to happen before I did anything, I just…”

He grimaces and slows his pace a little, obviously trying to prolong the sensation.

“You mean it?” You have to ask because you still can’t quite believe that this has been on his mind for all this time when he’s shown no sign of it to you.

“God yes,” he answers through gritted teeth, once again allowing himself to move faster and more urgently.

You can’t completely banish your fears that he’s going to regret this in the morning and just shut you out again but every second with him is pushing them further away. You lace your fingers through his hair, nipping at the shell of his ear as he lets out his own stream of desperate, lusty noises, running your nails gently down his back as he approaches his crescendo.

His head drops to your chest and he cries out as he releases inside you.

“Fuck I love you, fuck I love you, fuck I love you.” He repeats it like a mantra that brings him back down from his high, saying it a final time as he looks into your eyes.

Slowly, he rolls onto his side, gathering you close to him like he thinks an errant breeze might carry you away.

“I have…” he begins quietly, “… there’s a lot that goes on in my head… Bad things, I guess. I thought you’d run away. Or that I’d pull you down with me. I still don’t know that won’t happen.”

He looks so vulnerable that it makes your heart hurt but at the same time you have to stifle a smile.

“Well I’d rather you let me try to deal with it. I’m a lot tougher than you give me credit for being.”

His expression grows a little guilty and he nods. He wraps his arms tighter around you and you do the same until the two of you are lying in your bed, wound around each other.

#aleister black fanfic #aleister black fan fiction #aleister black imagine #tommy end imagine #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe smut #wayward wrestle writing #wrestling imagine #wrestling fanfiction

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xplrerdolan · 4 years ago

Text

𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 [ 𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕 𝘋𝘖𝘓𝘈𝘕 ]

⤬ SUMMARY: Your relationship with Ethan is a little complicated -- after meeting him at a bar and fucking him in what was meant to be a one-night stand, you can’t seem to get rid of him. The cocky asshole won’t leave you alone, and, if you’re being honest with yourself, you can’t leave him alone either. You hate him, detest him, can’t stand him -- but god does he know how to fuck you just right. You know this cycle can’t lead anywhere good… or, can it?

⤬ WARNINGS: lots of aggressive sex, lots of sex, sex, and some fluff to tie it all together

⤬ A/N: when i first posted this, i was returning from a 5-week hiatus that i had taken to finish up my semester. the original author’s note was, “i’m back >:)”, which i feel speaks to the significance of this piece. for a longer author’s note with a greater explanation, please click here.

⤬ WORD COUNT: 14.3k

❋ ❋ ❋

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” you asked, an optimistic smile upturned on your face, leaning in to force yourself to believe you were interested. Maybe if you acted out the body language, you could trick your brain into liking this guy.

Ricky, his name was. You repeated it in your head over and over, not wanting to awkwardly forget it. He looked sort of similar to his Tinder profile pictures, enough so that you couldn’t cry catfish. “I like hunting and fishing a lot,” Ricky said, and you bristled.

You tried not to show it, tried to salvage whatever was left of your chances of getting a good fuck out of your third Tinder date of the week, but jesus did you hate guys who hunted and fished. Whether you ate animals or not, it was such a weird and fucked up hobby. The fact that people saw hunting and fishing -- killing animals -- as a means of fun rather than survival rubbed you all the wrong ways.

“What do you like about it?” you tried, as you had been all night.

“Well, I used to do it with my dad,” he said, a small smile coming across his features. For a second, you relaxed, thinking perhaps there’d be a sentimental moment, and maybe you could look past his dirty habit, because maybe it held nostalgic value. But then, he continued. “Plus, there’s something real amazing about taking down an animal bigger than you. Kind of exhilarating, actually.”

You let out a deflated sigh, all the hope for the evening rushing out of your body. You twirled your vodka cranberry around in its cup, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. You looked away from your “date” to glance at the television, briefly assessing the score plastered across the bottom of the screen to see what team was winning. When the hockey game on the screen didn’t pique your interest, you glanced around at the sticky bartop, little spills of water, soda, and juice that had yet to be taken care of because of the rush of customers, barely noticeable in the dingy, yellow light of the bar.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you told Ricky, with the bearded man barely looking up from his beer as he grunted a sound of acknowledgement, eyes glued to the TV. You were almost certain he’d wanted to take you there just to watch the game. He didn’t seem to notice you take your drink with you on your way to the “bathroom.”

Really, you were just ready to give it up and call it quits. You were fully prepared to call a taxi to take you home, shower, and go to sleep. You even pulled out your phone to order a ride when you were knocked into, your drink spilling all over your white top.

You were ready to apologize, the words forming in the back of your throat as you looked up in shock at the much larger man who’d caused you to make the mess in the first place. But before you could even make a sound, you were being yelled at. “Hey, watch where you’re going!”

His voice was rough, and he was clearly angry. For a second, you were worried this stranger was going to try to pick a fight with you, and considering how much larger he was than you, it would be no question how it would turn out. But when he got a good look at you, and saw what the liquid had done to your shirt, a smirk slowly spread across his face. “Nice tits,” he commented, his eyes nearly smoldering. He let his eyes roam over your body and you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Gross,” you replied back, slamming your now-empty glass on the counter beside him, walking toward the exit with even more purpose than before.

“Hey, hey, wait up,” he called after you, his eyes fixed on the curve of your ass while you walked away from him. You didn’t turn back to face him while you marched forward to get back to your house. Once outside, you thought you’d be in the clear, but this guy was particularly persistent.

His hand gripped your wrist, making you turn toward him and pull yourself out of his grasp. “What?!” you spat at him, your anger flaring in your chest.

He scoffed at you, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Well, I was going to say sorry for snapping, but now I’d say we’re even,” he said, his tone accusatory.

“Even?” you challenged, stressing the word as you narrowed your eyes at him. “You yelled at me and then told me I had nice tits.”

“Yeah, I gave you a compliment and everything. You’ve just been nasty to me,” he said, eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to you.

You leaned even closer to him, getting a little more in his face. “That wasn’t a compliment, and I don’t owe you anything.”

“Never said you did,” he said, his voice rising again out of irritation.

“There you go, yelling again,” you accused, your noses practically touching at this point.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” His voice continued to get louder, making you growl and do the only thing you could think of at that moment -- you kissed him.

The kiss could only be described as angry; nothing but passion, teeth, and smashed lips. But he reciprocated and was clearly eager to. All the anger from tonight and your sexual frustration for the past month was coming out into this kiss, and he seemed to be letting things out, too. Just as his arms were moving to grip your waist and pull you closer to him, you got a notification that your driver was here, and would be departing in five minutes.

You hesitated only briefly, looking up at the guy you’d been kissing to meet his lust-filled gaze, eyeing his full, slightly swollen lips before grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him towards your cab.

“Oh, it’s fine when you do it, but not when I do it,” he said, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Shut up,” you retorted, rolling your eyes right back, even though he couldn’t see you. You both got into the backseat of a Honda Civic, immediately going back to kissing him as soon as he shut the door.

The ride was mostly silent, save for the driver turning up his music so he didn’t have to hear the two of you smacking lips in the back of his car. Normally, you wouldn’t be acting this way in a stranger’s car. You were surprising yourself. But this guy just made you so angry, it was like you couldn’t think straight. Plus, it was hard to resist his lips.

When the car stopped, and you saw you’d reached your destination, you pulled yourself away from the guy to get out of the car. You hastily paid the driver on your phone, tipping him a good amount for having to deal with your out-of-control behavior, and ran up to your apartment.

It was on the second floor of a two-story complex, more a condo than anything else. As you walked up the stairs, the guy grabbed a handful of your ass, and you moaned just loud enough for him to hear. When you made it to your front door, you hastily reached inside your purse to unlock the door, with the guy gripping you from behind while he placed open-mouthed, hot kisses into the skin on your neck. He let his hands trail up your stomach and over your still-wet breasts, nearly growling as he squeezed them.

The pleasure he was giving you clouded your mind, making you fumble with your keys. Growing impatient, he grabbed your keys from your hand and opened the door himself, which mildly annoyed you, but you were too focused on getting him in your bed to care.

You hurriedly closed and locked the door behind you, turning around to meet the man’s lips. You moaned openly into the kiss, your arms wrapping around him as he pulled you flush against him. You didn’t want to pull away again, but you had to to take him to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning the lights on, only slightly stumbling over some objects as you made your way to your bed. You pulled him onto the bed with you, his hard body situating itself between your legs with ease. Your lips reconnected with his, once again releasing some of that anger you’d been holding in all night.

He helped you lift your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you’d worn underneath. You knew that in the dark, he couldn’t see it, but that didn’t stop him from dipping his head to kiss the tops of the swells of your breasts that peeked over the fabric. He reached behind you to impressively snap off your bra, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere while he gripped one of your breasts in his hand and brought his lips to your nipple. You arched into his touch, your hands flying into his hair, pulling on the dark strands. He groaned at the feeling, and you pulled harder, making him bite the hardened bud to make you squeal.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him the ability to grind your bodies together, a whine escaping you as his jeans moved against yours, his hands moving to unbutton them. He undid both your jeans and helped you pull yours down before pulling his own down. He was quick to rid himself of his boxers, leaving you barely able to make out the size of his length. He ripped your panties off your body with a harsh tug, making you protest with a shout.

“Hey, those were nice!” you hissed at him, giving his shoulder a shove -- which did nothing, given his stature and strength.

“I think you’ll live,” he replied sarcastically. “My name’s Ethan by the way. You’ll need to know that in a second.”

“For wha-- oh, god, Ethan!”

He’d sheathed himself fully inside you in one swift motion, making your body jerk away from him while your hands flew to his back, nails digging ruthlessly into his skin. He hissed at the feeling, his hands moving to your waist to hold you there instead of trying to escape him.

“Told you,” he smirked, beginning to snap his hips forward to meet yours.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his middle which only pulled him deeper, a sensation you both wanted to run from and wanted more of. It was extremely jarring; a feeling you’d never experienced with any other man. You could only moan in response to the feeling, your hips bucking up to meet his as your body craved more of him.

The man -- Ethan -- pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of his cock. “Hands and knees,” he ordered, slapping your thigh quickly. You complied, flipping over exhaustedly while you presented yourself to him.

He spit onto your pussy, lubricating it even more than it already was, before sliding back inside you with ease. You pushed back on him, making him bottom out, which made him curse heavily and grab your hips with brute force. He started rocking your body back onto him while thrusting forward, taking complete control of you.

“You like that?” he asked through gritted teeth, his thighs slapping melodically against yours. “You like when I fuck you this hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He bent over your body, his head next to your ear while he took a fistful of your hair to pull him back towards himself. “Of course you do, you little slut. Bet you want it harder,” he taunted you, laughing a little while he continued slamming his cock into you.

“Yeah, right, like you can go harder,” you said, truly not believing that he could possibly fuck you any harder than he already was.

He laughed again, his free hand moving to spank you harshly. “You’re gonna regret that,” he muttered, sitting up and letting go of your hair.

He grabbed your hips again, pulling out of you almost entirely to thrust fully back in with a force that had you screaming. He was pulling you back as he pushed forward, but with enough force behind his thrusts that his grip on your middle was the only thing holding you up.

Him being so rough with you had a coil in your core tightening faster than any man had ever achieved. “Ethan,” you screamed, your eyes starting to cloud with tears as pleasure overwhelmed you. “I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice going higher and higher in pitch.

“Give it to me, baby,” he encouraged, continuing his lethal attack to your body. You came harder than you ever had, actually managing to squirt onto him, a feeling that was enough to trigger his own orgasm.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he asked quickly.

“Inside me, cum inside me, please,” you begged, fighting to push back against him to get him deeper.

“Fuck—“ he grunted, stilling behind you while he emptied his load into you. “I hope you’re on the pill,” he said as he came down, realizing how bad this situation could turn out if you weren’t.

“Obviously I am, dumbass,” you said, your mind still reeling from how hot the sex you’d just had was.

“It’s actually not obvious, asshole,” he retorted, slapping you on the ass before pulling out.

You were completely exhausted, watching him move around your room from your position on your bed, your fucked out form just laying there with a stranger’s cum leaking out of you. As Ethan got dressed, he looked at you with a smirk. “You’re a lot more tolerable when you’re screaming my name instead of screaming at me,” he quipped, winking at you.

“You yelled at me,” you grumbled, honestly too tired to fight him.

“Whatever,” he said, moving over to your phone on your nightstand. You were going to protest, really, you were — but you were so tired you couldn’t care.

He unlocked your phone with your thumb, quickly adding himself to your contacts and sending his own phone a text from yours. He looked over at you when he finished, tilting his head to look at your still naked body, covered in sweat, his cum still dripping from you. It was a gorgeous sight, and he wanted to do something gentle, soft; show his gratitude and appreciation for you. But instead, he settled on a quick slap to your ass, which you whined at the contact of, still sensitive after such an intense fuck.

He let himself out, and you made the small effort of getting under your covers and curling up to fall asleep. You thought that would be the last you’d ever hear or see of Ethan, and you were fine with that. You’d probably regret fucking him later -- he was such a jerk. The way he acted was gross. You’d normally never let a guy like him anywhere near your bed -- let alone your pussy.

You’d also never been more wrong about a situation.

The next morning, you groaned as you turned over in your bed, your muscles absolutely killing you. It was a soreness you loved; a sign of a truly good fuck. You’d needed it, and as much as it hurt to move right now, you were grateful for it. You felt at ease, especially having let out such an exuberant amount of emotions the night prior.

You slowly opened your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight that peeked through the curtains, and reached your arm over to your nightstand. You grabbed your phone, checking to see the time. It was ten in the morning on a Saturday, and you sat up with a heavy yawn. You scrolled through your notifications, and ended up with a furrowed brow. There was a text from an unknown number, with just the details of an address.

You were surprised to find that you’d sent your address and they’d sent theirs. This happened last night, which you could see from the timestamp which read 2:36am. You could tell the number belonged to Ethan, and you didn’t bother putting his name in. You really didn’t have any other plans to see him again -- one good fuck would be fine for you.

You got out of bed, still naked from the night before, and shuffled over to your shower. You turned the water on hot, brushing your teeth while you waited for the water to get warmer. Your attention was called to your phone when it vibrated, rolling your eyes when you saw who the text was from. Ethan’s number. You decided to ignore it, getting into the shower and allowing the hot water to roll over your body. You scrubbed away the makeup and memories from the night before, focusing on massaging your muscles. You washed your hair, face, and body, turning off the water and grabbing your towel to pat yourself dry before putting your robe on.

You checked your phone to see you actually had seven unread messages from Ethan’s number. With a roll of your eyes, you unlocked your phone to read the texts.

(unknown number): hey. left my belt at your place. gonna stop by today to grab it (unknown number): actually i have to come over sooner than later (unknown number): will you fucking answer (unknown number): i swear if you’re ignoring me (unknown number): i just realized i don’t even know your name (unknown number): girl with the nice tits, answer your phone (unknown number): brat, answer your phone

You felt anger flare in your chest at the sheer disrespect of his tone talking to you. You let this guy fuck you last night. And fuck, did it piss you off that he thought he could talk to you like that.

(you): i should accidentally take a pair of scissors and destroy your belt for how you talk to me

He replied almost instantly.

(unknown number): and i should accidentally shove my dick down your throat for how YOU talk to ME

Although you were frowning at your phone, staring at his words with a harsh glare, you couldn’t deny the heat between your legs at the thought. You were really into shit like that; being taken control of, being dominated, being used… but you had to remember who you were talking to. You took a steadying breath, ready to type a reply when he started typing again.

(unknown number): i’m coming over, i’ll be there in 5. just want my belt

You quickly replied with fine, taking your towel to dry your hair a bit. Just as you were hanging up your towel, you heard a knock on your door. But he didn’t just knock once, no -- he started drumming on your front door. You rushed to open it, the fear of your neighbors hearing it making panic and anger rise in your throat. You thrust the door open quickly, already greeting him with fury in your eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your robe-covered chest.

He looked you up and down — hair wet, face bare, robe wrapped around your body, your legs exposed — prettier than he remembered. Even with your scowl scrunching up your features. He smirked at you, “I’m impatient.”

“Clearly,” you sneered, moving from your doorway to let him in.

In the sunlight, he was able to see your apartment, and he could only describe it as cozy. Dark hardwood floors with a white, tan, and dusty pastel color scheme running throughout. He turned his attention on your retreating form, deciding he should probably follow you.

“Shoes off,” you told him.

“You didn’t seem too worried about my shoes last night,” he teased, but started to take his shoes off nevertheless. He left them by your front door, sock-clad feet barely making a sound as he followed you down a hallway to your room.

Other than the clothes from last night — and his belt over in the corner — your bedroom was tidy. It kept the same color scheme as the rest of your apartment, and he thought about how Grayson would probably like it. He decided to mention it to you.

“Nice place. My twin brother would like it.”

“You have a twin?” you asked, quirking a brow at him.

He nodded, almost preparing himself for oncoming questions he always seemed to get about it. But instead, you just scoffed, “Great. There’s two of you. Just when I was gaining a little more hope in the world.”

Taken aback, Ethan barked a laugh. He shook his head in amusement, “You’re really such a bitch.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at him. “I’m a bitch? You still never apologized for what you did to me last night.”

“What — make you cum?” he asked, walking closer to you now, his steps slow and calculated. “Make you beg for more? Pump you full of my cum just like you wanted? Fuck, I bet there’s still some inside you.”

He was right in front of you now, your body trembling from the memory and the way he spoke to you. You’d enjoyed every second of him being inside of you, from the way he’d moved his hips to the feeling of his hands on you. You couldn’t deny you wanted more if you tried — Ethan could see the lust returning to your face, and watched your breathing change.

He brought a hand up to your cheek, his fingers caressing the skin before it moved to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to bring you closer to him. “You want more?”

You nodded, your eyes glued to his. He laughed darkly, his other hand coming up to slap you just hard enough for you to know it was a punishment. “Use your words, brat. Tell me how bad you want me.”

“Fuck, I want you, want you inside me, daddy—“

You gasped a little when you called him that, not sure if you’d just ruined the moment. But you could tell from the way his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head that he loved it. And if that hadn’t been telling enough, you definitely knew he loved it by the way he pushed your upper body forward so you were bent over onto your bed, hearing him quickly undo his pants, and spank you roughly on your ass.

Your body jolted away from him, the soreness in your body ever present. You whimpered audibly, which made him laugh. His hand came down on your ass again, the force behind it merciless. “Sore?”

You nodded, but that earned you another spank, which made you yelp out, “Yes! Yes, I’m sore.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, running his hand over your reddened skin to soothe it. “Who made you this sore?”

“You, daddy,” you whimpered, your hands balling into fists in the sheets. In response, you felt his dick tap your clit, already soaked from the way he was speaking to you. He hummed as he felt your wetness coat his tip, his free hand gently gliding over your ass before squeezing it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he rasped, and your knees nearly buckled when you realized he was just looking at it, watching it glisten with your juices and clench around nothing while you waited for him.

He seemed to enjoy the way your walls flexed, because he brought the pad of his middle finger to your clit, just to watch the way your body reacted to him. He swirled his finger around it, gathering up some of your wetness before his finger slid up to your smaller, puckered hole.

You tensed at first, surprised by his actions, but he didn’t do anything except let his finger tap the area. “Is this okay?” he asked, softer than before.

You nodded, biting your lip, which he accepted for an answer this time. He could tell by the way you reacted that you didn’t normally experiment with anal play, but that you were inclined to try. He spread your wetness around the area, lightly lubricating it before allowing the tip of his finger to push in.

You sucked in a small breath, the feeling foreign but not uncomfortable. He didn’t move his finger at first, just kept it barely inside you, as he brought his dick up to your entrance. When pushed into you, you let out a deep whine, still feeling sore from the night before. It ached to have him stretching you out again, a feeling that was caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. From the way your holes tightened around his finger and cock, he knew he had to take it slow for the moment.

When he finally pushed himself all the way into you, he let out a satisfied moan, the hand that wasn’t fingering you moving to caress the skin on your back. You moaned, wiggling back on him some more to urge him to start moving. He complied, starting at a pace that wasn’t slow but also wasn’t very fast. He rocked his hips back and forth, more focused on wanting to build your comfort with his finger than anything else.

He started to move his finger, just swirling it around inside you, the nerves there loving the attention. You moaned deeply at the feeling, actually pushing back against him again to tell him you wanted more. However, when his finger went a little deeper, you winced, feeling a sharp pain.

“Easy now, brat. Let’s take it slow,” Ethan warned, his free hand roaming across your skin to help you relax.

“Okay,” you sighed out in relief, trusting him to take care of you.

You were shocked at the realization that you trusted him right now, trusted this guy who you’d only met hours earlier and had had inside you only twice. But at least when he was fucking you, he seemed tolerable. He continued pushing into you, loving the wet sounds your body made for him. He looked down at the little bruises that were appearing from the night before, admired the redness of your skin from his spanks. He couldn’t believe his own mind again -- he was thinking about how beautiful you looked covered up in his marks, how stunning sex appeared on your skin. He shook his head at himself, trying to remember how nasty you could be.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you’d both almost forgot the task at hand. Until you started feeling that familiar coil in your stomach, bringing you back to the present. “Ethan, I’m close,” you told him, your back arching more as you pushed your hips back to try to take him deeper again.

“What’d you call me?” he asked, stilling all his movements. The way you whined in response, clenching desperately around him nearly made him dizzy.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you pouted, trying to move on him to create more pleasure to focus on your building orgasm.

“Nuh-uh, not good enough,” he said, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. “Beg me, brat.”

You protested again, trying to bring your fingers down to meet your clit and bring yourself to orgasm. Ethan was quick to retract his finger from your ass, using both of his hands to hook his arms around yours, making you gasp as your chest was pulled up off the bed. He caught both your arms in a single hand, easily gripping you so you couldn’t move. His other hand came up and wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides to cut off your airway slightly.

You swore you could feel yourself get wetter. “You’re going to apologize again and then you’re going to beg me to let you cum. We’ll see if I decide if you’ve earned it,” he growled in your ear before releasing you and pushing you against the bed again.

You gasped for air, your fingers clawing at the sheets again, waves of pleasure already rolling through your body in sharp waves. With the smallest of efforts from him, you could be cumming. You almost wanted to push him farther, see what else he would do if you continued to resist him, but you were afraid he would be as malicious to leave you in this state. Maybe make you get him off and then leave you to deal with it yourself. So, instead of pushing further, you gave in.

“I’m sorry, daddy, please forgive me,” you started, your hips shifting impatiently with him still seated inside you. You moaned at the feeling of him being so deep. “I’ll be a good girl.”

His hips started to roll again, agonizingly slow. “That’s a good start,” he said, his tone approving. “We’ll see if you earn my forgiveness or not.”

“Okay, daddy,” you answered, which pleased him. He liked hearing you submit to him while you were bent over for him, his cum still inside you and about to take more -- it had him gripping your body just that much harder out of pure bliss.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged, his voice gravelly and low. It sent chills down your spine, your pussy clenching around him in a way that had him already thrusting harder.

“Please make me cum, daddy,” you begged softly, looking over your shoulder innocently at him, hoping your eyes would soften him into giving in to giving you what you needed. And they almost did; he could feel his cock twitch in pleasure at the sight. He almost lost control. Almost.

“And how would I do that?” he asked, needing you to say more.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whined, focusing on not moving on him -- which would only give him more reason to punish you.

“And what else?” he pushed.

“Please?” you tried, thinking the magic word would help.

“Please, what?”

He was looking for something else, and the way his strokes remained slow and steady told you he had the patience to wait all day for you to figure it out. You thought for a second, screwing your eyes shut as you felt him slide in and out of you at a tragically slow pace. It was practically a distraction.

You thought about what you needed, what you wanted him to do more than anything — fuck you, yes, but what else?

Realization struck you, and in your voice was a raw and unmistakable need. “Play with my pussy, daddy, please,” you moaned.

The sound which came from his chest could be described as nothing short of a growl, his hand wrapping around your body to reach your swollen clit and his hips snapping forward again with the strength and speed you needed them at. You cried out in pleasure, your orgasm building fast. He was fucking you so well, hitting spots inside you from this angle and position that you could barely breathe from the pleasure.

You came with a shout, your pussy fluttering around him tightly in a way that had his orgasm following closely behind yours. His hips bucked forward in shallow thrusts as he emptied himself into you again with a satisfied groan.

He pulled out of you and stood back to watch his cum drip out of you again, mesmerized by the sight. He was interrupted by your irritated sigh. “I just showered,” you complained, standing upright and feeling his cum drip out of you and start running down your leg.

“Really? I fucked you and you’re worried about your shower? You really are a brat,” he shook his head.

“My name is (Y/N),” you snapped back.

“Brat suits you better.”

“Whatever. Get your belt and go,” you waved him off, walking back to your bathroom to wipe up the cum that was leaking out of you.

He huffed, obviously annoyed at how dismissive of him you were now that he made you cum. Five minutes ago, you were putty in his hands, and now you’d already slipped through his fingers. He didn’t like you per say, he just wanted you to admit you liked him. He wanted you to chase after his attention like everyone else did. But you were too concerned about your fucking shower to care.

But Ethan was determined to prove to his own ego that he would get you to like him. Even if your bratty attitude drove him up a wall. He’d get you to come around.

When you walked out and he was still there, you crossed your arms over your bare chest, not caring if he saw it now since he’d already seen it twice, just communicating your agitation through your body language.

“What?” you asked when he just stood there, quirking your brow.

“I don’t get a kiss goodbye?” he asked snarkily, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“You didn’t get a kiss hello so why would I give you a kiss goodbye?” you asked, bristling at the idea of giving him something so affectionate.

“Come on, brat,” he coaxed, holding his arms open for you to walk into.

You debated for a moment, trying to consider whether entertaining this would be worth it. You really didn’t want to involve yourself with him more than you already had. But, his lips turned further up into his smirk, and he wiggled his brows in a way that made you almost laugh -- almost, but you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Fine, if it’ll get you out of my apartment.”

You walked into his arms, surprised at the gentle warmth you found there; though, you supposed, he was still human. Even if he was damn near intolerable. He wrapped them around your waist, pulling you to him in a way he hadn’t before. Sure, you’d known him less than 24 hours, but still -- it was different.

Kissing him now was different, too. It wasn’t desperate and needy, it was just -- a kiss. It lingered, his lips actually feeling pillowy soft against yours. Your hands rested against his still bare chest, and you had to admit, the skin-to-skin contact felt amazing. After being handled so roughly, no matter how much you’d enjoyed it, it was nice to be touched gently.

To your dismay, he pulled away first. He looked at you for a second, just let his eyes dust over your features, and then he smirked at you again. “See you soon, brat,” he said, giving your ass a swift tap.

You rolled your eyes as he slipped his shirt on and grabbed his belt. “No, you won’t,” you said decisively. He’d been a good fuck, but god, did he piss you off.

“We’ll see,” he snorted, his ego radiating off of him so much it was almost tangible.

Finally, he walked out, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You didn’t like that he could affect you so easily. First, he’d turned you on, but then, that kiss… you couldn’t deny that you’d liked it.

When your front door shut, you decided that was enough for him to metaphorically have left your life for good. You let the idea shift around your brain, you were done with him.

But Ethan was not an easy man to ignore.

He texted you periodically throughout the week, teasing you about whether or not you missed him enough yet to literally crawl back to him, which you were always quick to shut down. You’d tried to simply ignore him, but he had a very particular talent of being able to enrage you even over the phone. You couldn’t resist texting him back sometimes. It was petty urge, you had to admit, but he made you petty.

You’d finally put him in your phone, simply as e. The things he usually texted you were annoying as hell. For example:

(e): miss screaming my name? (you): nope.

(e): hey (you): hi? (e): did you get your period yet? (you): yeah, the other day. don’t worry, i’m not pregnant with your child (e): hmm. i could feel extra bitchy vibes coming from you (you): shut up bitchass (e): see?

(e): hey (e): hey (e): hey brat (e): heeeeeeey brat (e): i bet you miss me (you): absolutely not. (e): good, you answered. wyd

To which, you always left him on read. You were not going to become his booty call. He would not be a regular, continuous fuck for you. It was good while it lasted, but the more you had to put up with him, the more stress would be added to your life.

Besides, you had better things to worry about. You had bills to pay and a minimum wage job to work. You really didn’t want to have to worry about the complications of a friends with benefits situation — if you’d even call it that. Friends seemed like an overstatement. No, you were done with him, and he was behind you.

You got ready for work, another shift at a diner near your apartment. You’d worked there for a little over a year, and while the customers were a pain in the ass and your feet were always killing you, you loved your coworkers. It was Friday night, so it was going to be busy, and probably a little chaotic — but it would make for great jokes and stories with your friends.

Your uniform was a little on the ridiculous side, and always got the attention of the men who you served. That’s what it was meant to do, you knew that, and it certainly earned you gracious tips, but that didn’t make it any less of an eyeroll.

A white, button down shirt that was required to be buttoned down to a certain point, tucked into a black, pleated skirt, and a black pair of flats or heels no taller than two inches. You almost always wore the flats, but tonight, well… rent was due soon. So you opted for the heels, knowing you would hate yourself for it later when your feet would be hanging on by a thread.

You drove to work, parking in your usual spot to find the restaurant already getting busy. You were anticipating an evening busy enough to make the time fly by. You walked inside the establishment, greeting your manager who was interacting with some guests, and moved into the back room. You were always assigned the same tables, some large and some small. You hoped a large family would come through and order enough food for an army, and hoped they knew how to tip. Those tips were usually pretty good.

As you’d suspected, time was whirring by you faster than you could really tell. An hour turned to two, which turned to four, and by then, your shift was half-way through. Your best friend, Alice, was working that shift with you. The two of you would snack together while you waited for different tables’ meals to come up, your eyes nervously darting around to watch for your manager.

“Oh shit, some hot guys just walked in,” she said, her interest piqued. You whipped your head around, and nearly paled. Of fucking course. Ethan.

Ethan, and a pack of his loud, boisterous friends, it seemed. You could make out familiar features on another one of the guys — that must be his brother, Grayson. He seemed to be all smiles and laughter.

Caught up in your annoyance and shock, Alice poked you in your side. “Hellooo, Earth to (Y/N)?”

“Hmm? Sorry,” you responded, turning your attention back to her. “What did you say?”

“I said, do you call dibs on any of them?”

“Oh, uh...” you looked back at the group, and a nervous feeling blossomed in your stomach. Should you claim him? The idea bounced around in your head. You weren’t supposed to be bothered by his presence anymore. You weren’t supposed to be affected by him. But the idea of watching Alice potentially flirt with him, and the idea of his attention being on someone other than you bothered you. And you wanted to punch yourself in the face for it.

“Um, yeah, the one with the brown hair and intense eyes,” you answered, looking back at her and hoping your tone didn’t give anything away.

She snorted, and you were afraid she caught you. “There are two of them,” she said, and you tried not to show your relief on your face.

“Oh, right,” you looked back. “The one that’s not smiling.”

And he wasn’t. In what you had assumed was a typical Ethan fashion, he looked pretty disinterested, just nodded along to whatever was being said and stuck close to his twin.

You noticed, with a bittersweet pang of your heart, that they were being seated at a table in your section. Your heart rate spiked, nerves settling over you. What would he say when he saw you? God, you could already hear his teasing now.

You told Alice you’d be right back, and in a daze, you walked over with some menus and a fake smile, ready to pretend not to know who Ethan was. But, Ethan seemed to have a different plan.

“(Y/N)! I didn’t know you worked here,” he greeted you with a taunting smile on his face, like he was challenging you. The two of you knew exactly what had been going on between you, if, you thought spitefully, there even was anything going on between you. Because there wasn’t.

You forced a wider, familiar smile onto your face. “Hi, Ethan, right?”

You were beyond tempted to call him the wrong name, so much so that the syllables seemed to hang off your tongue. But your mind was focused on your tip. You knew you’d get treated like shit if he’d ordered it, and you were scared he would. You had to play nice.

“That’s right, but I don’t think that’s what you called me last time I saw you.”

He was dangling it in your face. You felt your anger flare up, something that you were usually if not always able to control in your workplace. You were a waitress. You were always angry at someone. But no one could make you angry like Ethan could.

“Yeah, I probably called you an ass or something close enough,” you replied snarkily, moving to introduce yourself to the rest of the table while they snickered at your comment.

At least they seemed to have a sense of humor. Ethan watched you with his tongue in his cheek, amused by your outburst. He wondered how many of your buttons he could push without getting kicked out. But then, as he eyed your top, there weren’t many buttons to push at all. And that skirt… he wasn’t walking out of the diner without a promise to see you tonight.

You walked away to let the table look over the menus, walking back to Alice. She wiggled her eyebrows at you when you approached, a knowing smile toying on her lips. “So, he seems interested in you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You have no idea.”

She giggled, tapping you lightly on your behind as she walked away, assuming it was going well. You gathered up the drinks they’d ordered, expertly carrying them to the table. Once they were all served their drinks, you took out your notepad and pen to take their orders.

You went around the table, taking everyone’s orders. Surprisingly, Ethan didn’t make some snarky comment -- just ordered a burger without cheese and let you continue doing your job. Until, his friend…

“I’d like a piece of that ass,” he said suggestively, making your chest clench out of embarrassment. Before you could even say anything, Ethan’s hand was flying to the back of his friend’s head.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, anger present in his voice.

His friend only laughed, shaking his head, “Only joking, bro.”

“Wasn’t funny,” you responded coldly, waiting with clenched teeth to finish taking his order.

He put his hands up in defense, leaning back against the booth. “Whatever, I get it. Lemme just get--”

“Apologize,” Ethan cut him off.

He looked at Ethan in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me. Apologize.”

His friend looked at you incredulously, shocked that he was being reprimanded by his own friend. He was clearly the bros-before-hoes type. “Sorry,” he said with a hint of spite, barely able to look you in the eye. But it would do.

You looked at Ethan and mouthed your thanks to him, to which he nodded, his demeanor relaxed despite how angry he was feeling. You were his to taunt, to fuck with, to annoy… because he wouldn’t do it to embarrass you in front of everyone. He knew you were quick witted enough to respond to his comments without letting the truth show.

The rest of the evening seemed to go by just fine. There were no more problems from Ethan’s table, as he seemed to have shut down anyone’s desire to fuck with you. They finished their food, they left, and left a hell of a tip -- most likely on Ethan’s orders.

You were surprised to admit it, but you actually felt beyond thankful to him. You couldn’t stand up for yourself at work, so for him to help you like that meant more to you than you could express. You started closing up your tables and stations, ready to just be done for the night.

You said goodnight to your coworkers, clocked out, and headed out to your car. You were looking down into your purse, searching for your keys, when you were grabbed from behind. The only sound that left your mouth was a gasp before a hand covered your mouth. You struggled against your attackers grasp, only — your attacker was laughing.

He started to put you down, and you already knew. You knew it was Ethan. If his voice didn’t give it away, it was his actions. Your chest heaved, emotion consuming you — anger, rage, fear, and the tiniest twinge of relief that you were safe. What was worse was you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you were overwhelmed by the onslaught of feelings.

“You fucking idiot!” you screamed at him, taking in a shaky breath, clenching your teeth and trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “That wasn’t funny!”

Out of anger, and slight embarrassment over your reaction to his stupid prank, you brought your hands down on his chest to hit him, trying to push him away from you. But he was quick to grab a hold of both your wrists, spinning you around in his grasp so you were wrapped up in his arms with your arms crossed over each other. His laughter slowly subsided, and you focused on breathing and absolutely not crying.

When his laughs finally died down, he brought his lips down to your ear and nibbled the shell of it, his breath tickling your cheek. He was ready to tease you about how funny your reaction was, but he heard you sniffle, which you’d desperately tried to hide.

“Hey,” he said, concern laced in his voice. He turned you around in his grasp, soft eyes roaming openly over your face. “You’re okay. I’m sorry.”

He sounded genuine, so you nodded, but couldn’t look up at him. You took a deep breath, one little tear rolling over your cheek. “You really scared me,” you admitted, feeling your stomach curl at how vulnerable you sounded.

You wanted to push him away from you, wanted to scream at him for being such an asshole, but you were still shaken. You were terrified of something like that actually happening to you. In spite of yourself, you leaned further into him, allowing his frame and strong body to provide you a false sense of security. He wrapped his arms tighter around you immediately, letting you gather yourself. He whispered another apology before mumbling more reassurances, and you felt your heart rate return to normal. Actually, not to normal -- slower than that. He was soothing you, as odd as it sounded in regards to Ethan as you’d known him.

Not for the first time, you were surprised to find you trusted him, especially in this moment where he was the only thing standing between you and potential danger. Even though he should be considered potential danger… his warm smell and firm hold on you didn’t allow you to be scared of him.

But before you could melt further into him, you started to push him away, forcing yourself to focus on being angry at him. “You should never do that to a girl. Actually, not to anyone,” you scolded, even though you knew he’d probably already figured that out.

And he told you as much. “I know, I get it. I’m sorry,” he said, but his face turned up in a smirk. “Thought you were tougher than that, brat.”

You scoffed at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I cannot fucking believe you.”

“What? I said I was sorry,” he deadpanned, furrowing his brow at you and mimicking your stance.

“Well, I’m not really in the mood to joke around right now,” you snapped, turning around to walk away from him and head to your car.

“Don’t walk away from me, (Y/N),” Ethan said, his voice hard.

“Oh, look! He knows my name again,” you said over your shoulder, continuing your walk to your car.

“Would you stop being such a child?”

To which you responded childishly, “Are you gonna make me?”

It was enough for him to walk over to you in three long strides and grab you by your elbow. “Yeah, I am gonna make you. I’m gonna teach you a lesson, and you’re gonna beg me to do it.”

You were so ready to fight him; to push him away, tell him to fuck off, leave you the fuck alone. You were going to do it, but when you whipped around to meet his eyes you were instantly frozen. His gaze was hard -- dominant. You could see the rage and lust swirling around his irises, and your body reacted almost immediately. You felt yourself nearly tremble when his other hand cupped your cheek softly, his sudden gentleness surprising you and piquing your curiosity. He just stared at you, his eyes locked on yours with that intense look still in them. He was waiting, you realized, for you to answer him.

You took in a shaky breath, worried you wouldn’t be able to find your voice to answer him. You tried to compose yourself, and replied as evenly as you could, “Like hell you’ll make me beg for it.”

His eyes seemed to darken even more, his grip on your arm tightening briefly. “Keys,” he said simply, his other hand opening expectantly, his palm facing you.

“No, it’s my—“

“Keys,” he repeated, more sternly now.

You rolled your eyes, an action that would surely worsen your punishment later, and handed over your keys. He opened your door for you, slamming it shut behind him. He walked over to the driver’s side of your car, got in, and started driving in the direction of your apartment.

He parked near your house and didn’t bother giving you your keys back. He knew which apartment was yours and which key on the ring opened its door. He didn’t even wait for you as he strode to your front door, leaving you to nearly jog to catch up to him.

When he got to your door, he opened it and waited for you, standing outside with his arms crossed. You timidly approached him, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt. He glared at you while he waited for you to hurry up, his impatience only growing.

When you finally crossed the threshold of your apartment, you were pushed to the ground and landed on your hands and knees — hard. You’d definitely have bruises on your knees tomorrow.

You stayed in your position on the floor, knowing you’d probably already pissed him off enough — resisting now would just be an invitation for brutality. He stalked up to you, his steps slow and calculated. Once he was parallel to your head, he reached down and grabbed a fistful of your hair. You were going to stand, but his foot stopped you, keeping you on the ground.

He started walking towards your bedroom, keeping his grip on your hair, and made you crawl next to him. Your knees were now on the verge of aching, and he knew they would be. He had every intention of keeping you on them until you begged to be off them.

When he got to your bedroom, he had you sit up on your knees and wait for him to take off his pants. He allowed them to drop to his ankles, leaving his boxers on. He looked at you expectantly, and you got to work.

You leaned forward, allowing your mouth to cover his hardening cock through his underwear. You let your tongue dampen the material while you sucked on it gently, focusing on getting him completely hard.

He pulled you back by your hair, looking down at you with those mesmerizing eyes. “No teasing. This is your only warning.”

You nodded, biting your lip, and he let your hair go so you could continue. You looped your fingers into the top of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing him from their confines. Once you pulled them down to his ankles, you grasped his length in your hand, seeing just how big he was for the first time. You hadn’t had time to admire him before this point.

Before he could get mad, you covered the tip with your mouth, starting slow bobs of your head up and down his shaft. His hands came to your hair and pushed it out of your face so he could see you better. He loved the way his cock looked going in and out of your mouth, and when your eyes flicked up to meet his gaze — fuck, he almost wanted to forget about punishing you.

Almost.

As you continued, your saliva started to accumulate, and little trails of it started running down your chin, dripping onto your chest. The sight was captivating to him, and the messy way you were taking him was driving him wild. He started to thrust shallowly into your mouth in time with the movements of your head, making you take him a little farther back than you already were.

The feeling was great for both of you, especially him. But words couldn’t describe the pleasure you felt when he let out a deep moan and cursed under his breath. “So good,” he praised softly, making your eyes nearly flutter shut.

However, as much as you were enjoying pleasuring him, your knees were starting to ache. You started to shift your weight around, and Ethan took notice to it. He smirked down at you, watching you squirm exactly as he intended you to.

“Uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice falsely soft.

You nodded, pulling off him to start to stand up. But he was quick to keep you in place with his hand, his eyes trained on you in amusement. You looked up at him in confusion, and he simply smiled down at you.

“Good. Stay there until I tell you to get up.”

You glared at him, but took his dick into your hand again and brought him back into your mouth. You focused on the task at hand, trying to please him in any way you could to get him to ease the torture he imposed on your knees.

“Why can’t you always be this good for me?” he murmured, his hand coming to caress your cheek.

You pulled off him with a pop, allowing your tongue to tease him before answering. “Then I wouldn’t be your brat, would I?”

He chuckled, and you knew you’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. At the same time, you felt it was the truth. Not just a half truth spoken in the heat of the moment. He grabbed you by your chin, leading you up towards him and off your sore knees. You hissed at the feeling of standing now, and he was quick to ease your pain, holding you close to him so you didn’t have to rely on your body to hold yourself up.

He kissed you hotly, that passion back in the way he kissed you. It was all desperation and fire, sending wetness pooling between your legs. He lifted you off the ground, carrying you alarmingly effortlessly to your bed. He pushed his pants and underwear off his body completely before climbing over you.

You hooked your thumbs into your skirt to pull it down, but your hands were smacked away. Ethan crawled over your body, wrapping a hand around your throat while his other hand worked on the buttons of your top.

“I had to watch you walk around in this little outfit all fucking night. I had to watch other guys, even my own friends, admire how fucking hot you are. I’m gonna fuck you in this outfit, so every time you wear it to work, you’ll think about how good it felt to have me inside you,” he growled, his hand pushing the material of your shirt apart so your breasts were exposed to him, still in your plain bra.

You were panting under him, squirming under his heavy gaze and from his words. Your hips bucked towards his, and he responded by slapping your thigh and pushing your hips down. He glared at you, and it communicated that he was in control. You were not allowed to so much as respond to his touch. No matter how much he teased and baited you, you were supposed to sit there and take it.

You whined, a pout and furrowed brows decorating your features. He was quick to bring his other hand up to smack you, then he pushed his fingers passed your lips, making you suck on them. He leveled his gaze with yours, his stare intense.

“Keep pushing me, you’ll regret it,” he warned, the patience leaving his eyes. To his dismay, you giggled, swirling your tongue around his fingers.

He brought his other hand to your throat, tightening his grip again. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your already soaked pussy, not needing the lubrication. He shoved them both inside you, making you squeak. He seemed satisfied with your reaction, curling his fingers while the hand around your throat tightened again. When your eyebrows knitted together and you let out a mewling moan, he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He didn’t bother to build your pleasure to deny you orgasm, he just removed his fingers all together and enjoyed the whine of annoyance you let out. He brought his fingers back up to your mouth, making you suck on them. He kept the hand around your throat loose — a simple reminder that, at any moment, he could have you begging and writhing beneath him if he wanted.

“Hands and knees again,” he ordered, and you were at least thankful it was on the bed this time instead of on your hardwood floor -- you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take it.

It seemed he’d decided that he’d wanted you begging and writhing, though, because his hand met the soft skin of your ass as soon as you were in position. And if you thought your knees hurt, you had no idea what storm was coming to you now.

The first slap hadn’t been so bad. But smack after smack, he kept going, never seeming to get enough of the way you screamed in response, or the way your ass rippled every time his hand made contact. You were absolutely positive you would be so bruised tomorrow you wouldn’t be able to sit.

“Please, it hurts,” you gasped out, hands clutching your blankets as you braced yourself for more impact.

He delivered one last whack, chuckling out, “Good.”

You whimpered again, the whiny sound coming from the back of your throat, falling over on your side once he stopped. You caught your breath while he smoothed his hands gently over your skin, admiring how bright and red it was. It was incredible -- you already looked so fucked out, and he hadn’t even begun with you.

He laid beside you, curling up to you and grabbing your leg under your knee. He brought it up so your cunt was exposed to him, bringing your hand up to keep your leg in position while he lined himself up with your entrance.

He pushed in slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls wrapped around him again, his teeth biting into your shoulder where his moans were muffled. He started to rock his hips back and forth, rolling them into yours to create a beautiful friction. His hand trailed down your side and balled itself up in your skirt, pulling you even closer to him as he started to pound faster.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, kissing and biting your shoulder. “Missed this tight pussy.”

You could only throw your head back in response, your walls clamping down on his cock the way you knew he liked. You weren’t disappointed with his reaction; he groaned in pleasure, needing to pause for a moment before continuing to plow into you. You felt a little smirk form on your face, knowing you could do that to him.

A moment later, he was grabbing your face and turning it so he could kiss you sloppily, a mewl of pleasure slipping between your mouths. He kissed you deeply, never easing the pace of his hard thrusts, and didn’t pull away until you needed to breathe. And even then, his lips rested against yours while you panted heavily.

The hand that had balled itself into your skirt was trailing back up your side, his fingers dancing over your breasts briefly before his hand settled, again, onto your neck. He applied a light pressure, but you knew this wasn’t punishment; this was possession. His eyes bored into yours and all you could feel was excitement coursing through your veins -- no, that was your orgasm building.

One of your hands flew over his, your mouth opening into an O shape. “Ethan,” you moaned, your fingers squeezing his as your orgasm crept over you.

“Let go,” he said, his hand quickly moving back down to your clit where he applied pressure, pushing you over the edge.

You came, hard, all over his cock. He felt the pulsing beat of your cunt all over his shaft, the flutters and spasms of your walls making him bite your shoulder once again. He held himself back from cumming, pulling out of you once he felt your body relax again.

“Suck me off,” he said, laying back against your pillows.

You were eager to please him after he made you cum like that, so you crawled between his legs without hesitation, taking him far back into your throat as soon as you took him into your mouth. There wasn’t any reason to tease him now, not after he treated you so well.

He moaned just loud enough for you to hear him, and the sound made your pussy ache again. You wanted to hear more of it, so you pushed yourself to take him even further. You felt him in your throat, and you gagged around him, earning an even louder moan from him. You were going to keep going, let him fuck and use your throat, but he had another idea.

“Get up here,” he ordered, his lids heavy as he watched you.

You popped off him, his cock slapping up against his stomach. You crawled over him, situating your thighs on either side of his face. “Turn around,” he said.

Your heart jumped in your chest as you followed his instruction, your ass and cunt in full view for his greedy eyes. You lowered your body down to take him back into your mouth, and for the first time, his lips met your pussy. He moaned at the taste, his hands coming up to wrap around your legs to pull you even closer to him. You could barely focus on sucking his dick from the pleasure he was giving you. He was quick to tap you lightly on your thigh to snap you out of your trance, though.

His lips latched around you, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done this sooner. You were a delicious mixture of salty and sweet; he might even say it was addicting. He let his tongue explore your folds, and each time he moved his head to explore more, you could feel the scruff of the facial hair that was just starting to grow in. It felt like such a sweet burn against your skin, and subconsciously your thighs closed tighter around his face to feel more of it.

You were driving him just as crazy. He was thrusting softly into your mouth on the same tempo you were moving your neck, your throat relaxing in response. You were pulling off him to moan every few seconds, jerking him in your hand. You rolled your tongue over the vein of the underside of his cock, and each time he would twitch in response.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and with each flick of Ethan’s tongue, you were pushed closer to your second one. You felt his tongue trail up to your entrance, and then… beyond. Though you were unaccustomed to the feeling, you couldn’t help but moan in response. The sound only encouraged him to continue his exploration, and moments later, his tongue was trailing back to your clit and you felt two fingers; one at each of your holes.

You were shocked at how much you wanted him to fuck both of your holes with his fingers. You whined and popped off him briefly to beg him for it. “Please, daddy.”

You could feel a cocky smirk against your skin as he continued to happily lap at your folds, his fingers pushing into you. They entered you slowly enough that you could adjust to them, but it didn’t take him long before he started moving his fingers in a alternating rhythm with quick flicks of his wrist. He kept a steady pace, and you could feel your oragsm about to hit you.

“I need more,” you said. You gasped as you felt another finger being added to both holes, your mouth hanging open as the warm, familiar feeling spread over your lower abdomen and cunt. Before you knew it, you were cumming again, and with the added pleasure of four of his fingers, you squirted all over his mouth, neck, and chest.

“Fuck,” you panted as the shocks of pleasure subsided.

“My turn, brat,” he said, tapping your leg to signal you to get off.

You climbed off of him, landing on your back and taking several deep breaths. Ethan stood up and walked to the side of your bed that your head was closest to. Once he was at the edge, he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you towards him. He moved his hand to grip your cheeks between his fingers, ensuring he had your full attention.

“Ever been facefucked?”

“No,” you answered, shaking your head in response as well.

“I think you can handle it. If you need me to stop, just snap your fingers,” he told you, waiting for you to agree. Once you nodded, he let go of your face and brought his cock to your lips.

You opened your mouth for him to enter, your heart thudding wildly in your chest as you prepared yourself for what it might feel like. Ethan slid himself in slowly, and once he reached your throat, he went even slower. He seemed to be testing your gag reflex; lucky for him, you were pretty good at relaxing your throat. He was able to get a decent stroke in before you gagged, a satisfied groan bubbling up from his throat.

He started to thrust at a steady rhythm, still slow to start with, though, to make sure you were handling it well. His moans started to increase in volume and occurrence, and the sound was being sent straight to your pussy. You could feel yourself start to throb in response, even though you’d already cum twice, you were still craving so much more.

You brought a hand to the meeting of your thighs, your fingers trailing along the soaked lips of your pussy, a tiny moan escaping you. Your middle finger pressed against the tiny bundle of nerves, moving in circular motions. Ethan noticed you were touching yourself, and the sight had his eyes rolling back.

Each time he pulled away to let you breathe, you were spitting out all the accumulated saliva in your mouth, which trailed down your face. The action itself was turning you on, and Ethan fucking your tight little throat was only edging you further. You especially felt yourself throb when he started to growl out praises.

“Fuck, I love fucking your throat. Such a good brat,” he said.

The praises were nice, but when he pulled away to admire your saliva-covered face and said, “What a pretty little slut you are,” it was enough to push you over the line again.

Ethan could tell you were about to cum from the way you arched into your own touch, and he could practically feel his cock stiffen even more. He slipped himself back into your mouth, watching you get yourself off with his jaw slack. He started to thrust even faster into your throat, and you forced yourself to take it, and finally, you felt yourself cumming for a third time.

Ethan got to watch as you squirted this time, and he felt the vibrations of your moans on his cock. The sight and the feeling brought him such an intense pleasure that he felt himself cumming. He pulled out of your mouth, allowing his cum to drip down your face and mix with your spit.

At this point, you were covered in your own spit, his cum, and your lower body was twitching with pleasure. You thought Ethan would never be able to top the last time the two of you had sex, but clearly, you were wrong. To your surprise, Ethan went into your bathroom and brought you some tissues to clean up the majority of the mess on your face.

You sat up to take it, but he held it from you for a minute. “Hold on,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over the damage he’d done.

A smirk spread over his face slowly as he looked at you, a tiny chuckle leaving his mouth. “Beautiful,” he said, finally giving you the tissue. You shook your head at him, but you felt your cheeks warm nevertheless.

You wiped what you could off, then stood and walked to your bathroom. “I’m taking a shower,” you said, watching as Ethan nodded and checked his phone. You figured he would be gone by the time you got out.

You undressed from your tousselled clothes, looking at your face in the mirror. Your makeup was smeared everywhere, there was still quite a bit of saliva and cum all over it, and you looked absolutely destroyed in the best way possible. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you assessed the state of yourself, turning happily to get into the shower.

Once you were done in the shower, you stepped out, dried off, and went into your room to change into your pajamas. You were expecting Ethan to be gone, so seeing him passed out, under your covers, curled around one of your pillows was a bit of a shock. You stood still for a moment, considering your options. You could wake him up and tell him to leave, but…

Well, he looked comfortable. And your bed was big enough to fit the both of you, so what did it really matter? He would only be staying the night. You were sure he’d be gone before you even woke up. So, you dressed for bed and got under the covers next to him; it felt foreign to be sleeping beside someone again, but you were pretty tired from work and the night’s events, so you drifted off to sleep easily.

To your dismay, Ethan was still beside you when you woke up. You weren’t annoyed, but you were a little nervous. You didn’t know how he would act when he woke up; if there would be awkward conversation, if he would want breakfast, if he would insist on hanging around, if you wanted him to hang around. There were so many ways your morning could go, and not knowing was leaving you on edge.

You were distracted from your thoughts by movements from Ethan beside you. Your eyes drifted over to him, preparing yourself for however he would greet you, but you found he wasn’t awake yet. He was just turning in his sleep, his face now level with yours.

You’d never truly gotten a good look at this man until now. You were always too busy being pissed at him or you were bent over for him; so you hadn’t had the chance to really look at him. You let your eyes dance over his face, taking in each of his features at a time.

You noticed how soft and fluffy his hair looked. It was clear he took care of it. His forehead was accentuated by bold eyebrows and defined bone structure that seemed to span across the rest of his face. Though his eyes were closed, you could see how his eyes were slightly downturned -- which probably explained how he was able to win you over with just a look. Plus, his eyelashes were long and dark, spread out so gorgeously. His nose was round and soft looking, sort of buttonish. For lack of better term, it was cute -- which felt like a weird word to describe any part of the man who fucked you into your mattress.

Below his nose were a pair of the softest looking lips you’d ever seen on a man. They were so plump and pink, looking extremely kissable. Surrounding those lips was a growing beard, which looked scruffy and made his strong jaw even more attractive. He had a tiny birthmark on his right cheek, too.

Your eyes kept going back to his lips, focused on how plush and plump they looked. They looked so velvety, and you couldn’t resist your urge to reach out and touch them. You brought your thumb to his lips and ran it along them, and they were just as soft as they appeared. You held your thumb there for a moment, and you were surprised by his lips puckering on it.

You looked back to his eyes out of shock, only to find them lazily open and already on your face. A soft smile formed on his face, and you felt your whole face warm. He stretched, so you let your hand fall away from his mouth. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes, finally opening them again to let them settle on you.

“Like something you see?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Shut up,” you laughed, shaking your head at him before starting to sit up.

He made a sound of disapproval, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you towards him. He spooned you from behind, your back pressed against his bare chest. You tensed up, but as his arms settled around you in a warm cuddle, you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. You craned your neck up to look at him, and he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your forehead.

You chuckled at the action, mostly out of disbelief. “Who knew you were such a softie in the mornings?”

“I’m not soft,” he scoffed, but his arms stayed wrapped around you, and his eyes told a different story.

You just hummed, settling into his hold even more. “What made you stay last night?” you asked curiously.

“I was pretty tired,” he said, and as if on queue, he yawned.

You nodded, resting your head on his chest. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, and it was actually nice to just lay with him. Once again, he was surprising you, and you were starting to think there was a lot more to him than whatever front he put up.

Even if he wanted to deny feeling soft for the moment, you were certain that you were feeling soft, so you turned in his arms to meet his eyes again. You were so captivated by the color of them; not one color, but a few. The sunlight that filtered through your blinds landed on his face and made them brighter, and you caught yourself staring. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He was staring right back at you.

You bit your lip in contemplation, wanting to kiss him but also afraid to make this moment any more intimate than it already was. Though, you figured you were already here, might as well do this while you’re at it.

You adjusted yourself in his grip so you were able to reach his lips, leaned forward, and pressed your lips against his. Much to your pleasure, he was as gentle as you were. Neither of you were in any rush to get this out. You both seemed to have the same thoughts in mind, even if neither of you wanted to admit anything out loud.

You brought your hands up to his hair, and found it to be as soft as you’d assumed it was. Your fingers threaded themselves through the strands and just played with them instead of pulling or tugging. From the way his grip on your waist tightened, you could tell he was enjoying it.

Your lips moved together lazily, and your bodies kept the same pace. Though you were getting closer to each other, it was slow -- gradual. Your legs tangled with his, his hands lifted your pajama top and played with the skin on your hips; each touch was gentle and deliberate.

His hand slipped down to your thigh, then continued on to wrap around your leg and hike it up over his hip. He shifted to free himself from his boxers, and since you’d only worn panties to sleep, he slipped them to the side and put himself at your entrance.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice still gravelly.

You nodded and hummed, preparing for the way he stretched you out. Once he pushed in, you both let out breathy moans, your lips meeting again to bask in the pleasure. He bottomed out, then stayed still for a brief moment. He let his hand fall to your hip again, gripping the skin as he enjoyed how much tighter you felt in this position.

He started to move, your breath coming out in little pants as he rolled his hips into yours. You started to meet his thrusts by shifting your hips forward, making him go even deeper. At this pace and angle, you could feel how big he was with every motion; the ridges and veins of his cock giving you more pleasure than before.

The pleasure was just as intense for Ethan, too. The tightness of your warm walls and the way you were clutching onto him, trying to bring him closer, was driving him insane. So much so that he felt his orgasm coming on before he wanted it to.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his grip on you tightening even more. “I’m cumming.”

You moaned as you felt his hot cum inside you again, every twitch of his cock bringing you another wave of pleasure. You closed your eyes and let your nails trail over his skin, honestly ready to fall back to sleep for a few more hours.

“You didn’t cum, did you?” he sighed, looking disappointed in himself.

“No, but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fine, lay back.”

“What are you-”

“Just lay back for me,” he ordered, removing his arms from around you.

You reluctantly left his warm embrace to lay on your back, and he settled himself between your legs, his mouth level with your cunt. “Open your mouth,” he said.

You opened your mouth, waiting to see what he was going to do. He stuck his tongue out and leaned his head forward, licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, making you moan. He sat up on his knees, his own cum gathered up on his tongue, and crawled up your body to spit it in your mouth. You swallowed it happily, the action alone enough to make your clit throb. The taste of your combined juices drove you insane, and you pulled him back to your mouth for more of the taste, bringing his tongue into your mouth to savor it.

He went back down and repeated the action, bringing his cum up to your mouth until almost all of it was out of you. When he wasn’t able to get any more from you, he stayed down at your pussy and focused on eating you out. Your back was arched into his grip, his tongue working like magic on your clit and between your folds. He alternated between licking you, sucking you, and fucking you with his tongue, which was enough to have you mewling with pleasure and coming undone at his touch.

It was when he shook his head back and forth with his tongue pressed against your clit that you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your head tipped back, your fingers gripping his hair and your hips grinding on his mouth. He pulled you even tighter to him, wanting to draw out your high for as long as he could. He stayed there, kitten-licking you until your body relaxed and he knew you were spent.

He crawled over you again, letting his body cover yours as he leaned down to kiss you. Tasting yourself on his lips was an added bonus to the tender touch of his kiss, and when you felt his erection against your thigh, you giggled.

“Round two?” you asked, moving your legs to try to wrap them around him.

He laughed in return, but sighed. “I wish I could, but I gotta get back before Gray gets annoyed. I have plans with him today.”

You were disappointed, but nodded your head in understanding, letting your legs relax.

He smirked at you, kissing you once more before standing. He got dressed while you laid in your sheets, just watching him. It still felt strange how different he was this morning, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Still, you were curious.

“What was with the change of pace?” you asked, making him look up from his task of getting his belt in the loops.

He shrugged, seeming to think it over in his mind before answering. “Maybe I was a little soft,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but why?”

He shrugged again, this time not looking up from his task. “I can be real nice when you aren’t pissing me off,” he smirked, finally getting it through the loops and looking back at you.

You rolled your eyes and stood up, slipping your panties back on and grabbing a pair of shorts to wear around the house. He chuckled again, pulling his shirt over his head. “There’s my brat,” he said affectionately, and although there was sarcasm in his statement, it didn’t fail to make you feel special. You sort of liked the title.

He checked his hair in your mirror and seemed to decide he was happy with his appearance. He turned to you an opened his arms wide, a small smile decorating his face. You smiled back, walking into his embrace and letting him kiss you goodbye.

“Try not to ignore my texts this time around,” he said, winking at you as he left your bedroom.

“We’ll see,” you teased, but in reality, you knew you wouldn’t be.

You felt like there was a whole side to Ethan that was only just emerging, and you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t like it. He was growing on you -- dominance, cockiness, rudeness, and all the rest. Even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud yet.

Even as Ethan left your apartment to head back to his place, he knew he wouldn’t be letting you slip between his fingers. You may have gotten under his skin, but you seemed to fit there. And it seemed that he could fuck the attitude out of you, which he was starting to love doing. You were his little brat, and he didn’t have any plans to let that go any time soon.

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan x reader #the dolan twins #dolan twins #i hope u all enjoy this :) either again or for the first time

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Bruised (1/?)

For @batboycentral <3

Whumptober day 10

Internal Bleeding

Ao3

Warnings: blood, nosebleeds, illness

-o-o-o-o-

The first time he noticed it, he didn't actually notice it. Like, bruises were common in Tim's line of work. Sometimes, he'd wake up in the morning with enough purple splotches to almost look like he was trying out Cheetah cosplay. Not remembering where a bruise came from was just as frequent. When you went out close to every night to fight common street crime you're going to get hit very often. So often, that really, it would be impossible to remember where you've gotten every single bruise, cut, and ache.

Tim waking up this morning to see his legs had large, dark bruises polka-dotting his pale skin was nothing out of the ordinary.

He just looked at them, shrugged and wondered if he got that bruise sparring with Kon or if it was from stumbling on one of his lands last night while swinging roof to roof.

Then he continued with the rest of his day, not even thinking about them. They were just bruises, what was the point of wasting brain power thinking about them?

The second time he noticed it, he still didn't actually connect the dots. The only difference this time was that there were bruises on his arms as well.

"That looks painful," Bart pointed out, literally and figuratively as Tim made himself breakfast that morning. He had to practically dance out of the way from having the bruise on the outside of his bicep poked.

"It's just a bruise," Tim said, retreating from the Tower's kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal clutched in his hands. "People get them all the time."

Bart hummed and followed Tim to the table with a spark in his eyes that Tim didn't like. He'd have dodging practice early today, he guessed.

Bart sat down next to Tim, kicking his legs under the table. "I don't get bruises like that. It's big"

"Because you're superhuman with a heightened healing factor," Tim deadpanned before stuffing his mouth full of captain crunch.

"Oh yeah, I forget that sometimes."

“How do you just forget you have superpowers?!”

The third time he noticed it was when he actually began to wonder about it. For the past three days, he'd been covered in bruises. On his sides, limbs, even a persistent one on his cheek. And yes, he was used to being covered in bruises, but the bruises were starting to look strange, covered with little red dots that gave him the impression of acne hanging out right below the layers of his skin on his legs and arms. And it felt like he was getting bruised for every little thing. Cassie playfully punched his arm a little while earlier and he soon found himself scowling in the mirror, poking the dark stain of skin. Cassie punched hard, sure, but she knew her strength. Even when she was roughhousing, she knew how to make it so no one got hurt.

And then, there was the fact that he woke up this time with bruises once again, but he hadn't gone out the night before. He stayed in to hack into the mainframes of various potentially corrupt companies of Jump City and their neighboring city of San Francisco that they occasionally patrol from time to time. He didn't do anything last night to warrant bruises.

The third time he noticed it, he was more careful with it, because Tim wasn't dumb. He wasn't oblivious to his own body. His spleen was missing for crying out loud! That could change things about his health and how he pursued both his everyday life and his night life. Common illnesses could be deadly. His body just didn't function the way it used to.

But now, it wasn't just the bruises. It was also the new episodes of lightheadedness and weakness that he just… couldn't explain. He slept. Not a full 8 or even 7 hours of sleep every night but he still slept . He ate food. Good food, especially for dinner. Meats, vegetables, the whole shebang. It was impressive, actually, how well everyone at the Teen Titan's Tower ate, especially for being a bunch of, well, teenagers .

He shouldn't be that tired. Standing up shouldn't be a chore like it was beginning to become.

And the others were noticing as well, which only served to worry Tim more about his own health.

"Woah, you good?" Kon asked, grabbing Tim by the shoulders as he stumbled up from the couch and almost fell immediately backwards.

Tim slapped his hands off, even though normally he always welcomed the company of Kon, but he was close to panicking. Something was wrong, and he was afraid to figure out what. "I'm fine," he replied, trying to keep a fearful snap out of his voice. Judging by the way Kon scowled, Tim wasn't to be believed. "I'm just… tired."

"Tired"?" Bart asked, zipping up from the couch and ending up right in front of Tim in the blink of an eye. Bart was scowling, looking up at Tim with narrowed eyes. "Tim Drake? Tired? I don't believe it."

"No, Tim's always tired," Cassie put in, her voice carefully level to the point Tim almost winced. "Tim admitting to being tired? Feels almost like sacrilege."

Bart nodded, like that was what he was thinking the entire time and Tim had to swallow down a deep sigh. He sniffed and stepped away from the others, folding his arms across his chest. "I think I'm just coming down with something." Oh no, Kon's frowning. Tim quickly continued, sniffing again. Maybe. It's not a big deal. I'm just a little more tired than usual-" Tim sniffs once more as something wet begins to slide down the inside of his nostrils. Great. A runny nose? He reached the back of his hand up to his nose and wiped. "And feeling a little weak. But that's it. Just…"

All three of them were staring at him oddly now. He frowned.

"What?"

"Tim…" Cassie started, "your nose is bleeding."

"What?!"

Tim looked down at the hand he had used to wipe under his nose, and to his shock he saw a thin streak of red trailing down over his thumb joint, parallel to his pointer finger. Right next to one of his strange bruises.

He reached up to his nose, wiping once more. His eyes widened when his hand came away with more blood. He sniffed again, only this time he brought his hand back up to his nose and kept it there. "I'm gonna... um…"

"Go," Kon said, "we'll talk after."

Tim nodded, knowing there was no way his friends would let him off the hook now that he admitted to not feeling the greatest. He quickly rushed past them—sniffing and sorely hoping no blood would drop down onto his shirt and stain it—and eventually found himself inside one of the many bathrooms built into the Tower. Using his free hand, he grabbed a tissue and painstakingly folded it up a few times. He leaned over the sink as he finally let the hand cupping his nose fall away, and instantaneously a few drops fell into the sinks porcelain. He swiftly pressed the tissue over his nose and turned on the water to wash his now blood streaked hand. The water ran crimson to pink and back to clear. He turned off the water and carefully closed the toilet seat lid to sit down on the shaggy purple cover. He kept the napkin pressed tightly over his nose and leaned back against the wall, breathing through his mouth and fighting the dizzy feeling settling in his brain and on his chest.

He could taste blood in his mouth. He hoped it was because the blood was dripping the wrong way down into his throat and not because of alternate reasons. He could see the dots. He didn't want to connect them. Not yet. He just had to wait for his bleeding nose to stop. Then he could start sorting out the symptoms.

Unconsciously, he brought his free hand to his side, under his armpit and above his stomach, then ran his fingers over the scar placed there under his cotton tee-shirt.

Please don't be related. Please oh please don't be related.

He exhaled, swallowing blood, and dragged his hand away to pull out his phone. He ignored the Google app and instead began to distract himself by checking the notifications on every other app he owned. Tumblr, Discord, Instagram, all of them. Every so often, he'd pull the napkin away from his nose just to immediately put it back when blood attempted to drip down. Eventually, he ran out of apps to laze through and opened his Email, however he immediately gained a headache when he saw most of them belonged to Wayne Enterprises.

After quickly changing the napkin for a new one once his fingertips began to feel wet, he opened the Play Store and downloaded the first mindless game he could tap on.

He was in the middle of figuring out where the sevens could go in his solitaire game when a knock on the door caught his attention. He lowered his phone and turned towards the door. "Yeah?" He yelled, his voice nasally thanks to the tissue still squeezing his nostrils shut.

"You good?"

Kon's voice. He sounded concerned.

"Um, yeah?"

A beat of silence. Then a clearing of a throat. "You're still bleeding?"

Tim almost hummed, but that would shoot gore out of his nose. So he clicked his tongue instead. "Yeah. A- a little."

More silence. "Do… do noses usually bleed this long?"

And not for the first time does Tim regret making friends with mostly superheroes who are, in fact, super. With their indestructible skin, healing factors, and amazing feats of strength, it was sometimes hard for them to comprehend how plain old humans with no abilities acted in certain situations. What plain old humans with no abilities needed to keep physically healthy. He loved his friends, no doubt about it, but questions like do noses bleed for this long gets his head spinning with the realization that this was his life.

Tim tucked his phone away in his pocket. "Um, depends. Really."

He should open the door. Talk to Kon face to face. He sounded genuinely hung up on Tim's health. Talking directly with each other should help calm Kon down at least. He put his hand on the counter next to him and used it to lift himself up.

Once his butt left the toilet seat, he knew he had just made a mistake. The world swirled and his head suddenly began to pound. He wasn't sure if he blinked, or even blacked out, but he did know that one moment he was halfway to sitting and the next he was on the ground with his legs crumbled beneath him, blinking cobwebs from his dizzied brain as the door suddenly slammed open.

And that was another thing about being a part of both a team and a friend group of supers. They sometimes underestimated how much a plain old human with no abilities could take. Though this time, Tim was pretty sure the worry on Connors face was for good reason. Those poor door hinges though… they’d need replacing...

There was a warm, copper tasting liquid dripping down over his lips and off his chin. During the confusion, his hand holding the napkin had ended up limp by his side, his body having forgotten to hold it over his nose while he blanked out and fell. At the back of his far away head, he knew that the amount of blood dripping from his nose, especially considering how long he's sat here with his fingers pinching it shut, was way more than what should be normal.

It took a tremendous amount of energy to lift his eyes up to Kon, who at this point had ended up in front of Tim, kneeling with hands lifted and eyes wide.

"Are you okay?" Kon was asking. His voice teetered the line of hysterics.

Tim brought his hand up to his face and tried to wipe away the blood to open his mouth, but all he did was smear the liquid over his hands and face. His heart pounded as he leveled his gaze into Kon's eyes. He thought of the bruises, and rash like dots on his arms and legs. He thought of his spleen, of the lack of it. He thought about his compromised immune system. He thought about the dizzy spells. The weakness. He thought about how his nose should have stopped bleeding by now.

"I think… I think I need a hospital.

-o-o-o-o-

End of chapter one. More will update after whumptober is finished. Please do not ask to be put on a tag list.

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seleniftie · 6 years ago

Text

Meeting Taylor.

It’s Sunday evening, I’m on the plane taking me back to Berlin. I’ve cried three times today. The pressure is off, the adrenaline is gone, and it hit me suddenly this morning: I met Taylor Swift.

I’ve been a fan of Taylor since 2009 and never got to see her live until this era. Each tour was a mix of happiness and sadness because I couldn’t make it. So when the UK tour dates of the Reputation tour were released and my friend Morgen bought us tickets without even knowing if I could make it, I couldn’t believe it. It was finally gonna happen, I was gonna see her.

When the tour kicked off, I was mind-blown. The positive energy radiating around Tumblr was incredible. With each tour date, I watched all of my friends getting picked to meet her and it couldn’t be more exciting cause they deserved it so much. I got lots of messages telling me it would happen for me too, especially since Taylor has been following my blog for three years and regularly likes my posts but I didn’t think anything of it — like everyone else on this website, I reblogged my tour posts in case she would see them but I was just rejoicing over the fact that I was finally going to see her.

But then something happened. On a Monday, June 18 at 8:25PM, I went on Tumblr and a DM notification almost immediately popped up on the app. I stopped breathing. It was Taylor Nation. What?! I clicked on the notification and there right under my eyes was a confidential message from Taylor’s team, telling me they’ve got an exciting opportunity they’d like to tell me about and asking me for my information and the best times to reach me. I fucking lost it. I was shaking and hyperventilating and couldn’t believe it it was ME who got that DM. I called my parents absolutely in shock before DMing them back. Then came the paranoia: when are they going to call me? what are they gonna say? I’d seen that they’d usually call people on the Thursday so I decided to keep on living normally and didn’t cancel any of my plans which I told Taylor Nation about. My week was so full!! On Tuesday evening my supervisor and I were invited to see an opera ballet one hour away from Berlin — so fancy. I was honestly so happy to be there. At some point during the concert though, I decided to check my phone and suddenly froze. I had a missed call from an American number 7 minutes ago. You guys, I flipped my shit. I left the room in a hurry and tried to call Taylor Nation back. No answer. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I was panicking. What if I’d lost the opportunity of a lifetime? I tried to call them back a few times but nothing. A few minutes later though, my phone rang. It was them again!! But then the nightmare went on — I was lost in the countryside and had NO signal. The woman on the phone began to talk but I heard her pretty badly and suddenly the line cut off. She called me back again and I only had the time to explain my situation before it cut off again. We both were trying to call each other but it was a complete failure, and I was left stressed out. I immediately messaged TN to ask them to call me later or the next day.

The next day, I couldn’t calm down. I was bringing my phone with me everywhere I was going. You guys I was feeling so unwell, literally thinking « what if they don’t call me back? ». During the evening I went to another concert for work. God, it was amazing but I barely was listening. Try to picture it: a pianist and a cellist inspired by God playing Debussy and me in the background, phone in hands, stress at its highest level. At one point, my phone lights up: IT’S THEM! And dumbass Camille freaks out so much she declines the call. I swear I thought they would be sooo done with me at this moment, I was hating myself so much for being so clumsy. Thirty minutes later though, they called me back again and my Leaving-A-Fancy-Concert-Event-Thing-With-High-Heels number occurred once again. « Hello? Hi? Are you here ? » — it was the same person who called me the day before. A woman sounding very American. She asked me if she was talking to Camille, told me it was Taylor Nation and that they’d learned I was going to the show on Saturday and that they had a special opportunity for me. She asked me for my info and told me I’ll have to pick up something for me at the box office on the day of the show between 4 and 5, and that they’ll confirm it to me. I was so excited. I had read similar stories before and was almost sure of what it meant: I was going to meet Taylor Swift.

On Thursday I left for London. I there joined my baby Morgen in a hotel in the very lost south of the city, and we had the time of our lives. Friday was even more incredible. We made it to the stadium and there I met my best internet friends. Holly, Jenny, Bessie, Katy, Clément, Aurélie, Marion, Clémence, Ghada, Maya, this is for you. I’m so so so so excited I got to meet you guys!!! We had the best time. Once we entered the stadium, I got so emotional — after nine years, I was finally going to see the person who had inspired me so much for all these years. When she went up onstage I…. lost it. I was crying so much and I had the best time. The concert was obviously fabulous and something incredible happened: Morgen and I were right next to the barriers between the two B-Stages and throughout the night Charli XCX winked at us and touched my hand, then Camila did…. then… Taylor did. There she was, looking like a doll so close to me, grabbing my hand. I couldn’t think straight and came back home absolutely enchanted.

I wake up and it’s Saturday. I go on Tumblr and see Taylor Nation sent me a DM to tell I was confirmed. OH GOD I WAS SO EXCITED. Yet somehow, still couldn’t believe it…. I had so much to do on that day but started it off by making sure I would look my best for the moment I had been waiting for for years. When we were finally ready, we left for the train… but there was no train. Panic attack. I had to be at the stadium in two hours, was currently in the lost countryside of London and there was no train taking us to the stadium, to Taylor. After checking on the internet we found another way to get there but thank god Morgen stayed calm cause I felt so panicked and anxious and kept on saying « I can’t miss it I can’t miss the opportunity». Long story short, we made it there early (and we even had the time to stop at the Waterloo station for me to put on a bit of perfume).

4pm came faster than I thought it would. I started walking nervously to the box office and that’s where I first saw @thefirstdayswift and @9tay8tay9 and @ifoundtaylor13 and @imsoproudoftaylor . YOU GIRLS!!! I then walked up to the counter and told the person behind it I have to pick up something at my name. « On which guest list are you? ». Dude. I HAVE NO IDEA. He then handed me an envelope with my name on it and the following: « Meet & Greet ». It was getting so real I started to be really emotional. I then proceeded to open the letter (you can watch the video here) and my friends came and gave me the biggest hugs, we were all there sobbing and jumping around of excitement. It was 4 and we had to be at the section 144 at 5:45. LET ME TELL YOU IT WAS THE LONGEST WAIT EVER. We bought merch and ate our dinner and Morgen finished our outfits and then it was time. IT WAS TIME SHGDLFJGNSKLJN. I was so excited yet so stressed out. I asked a security guy how I could access the section 144 though I had tickets for the block 551 and he told me not to worry, that I just had to go to my gate and then once I was in, walk around the stadium… Oh how I wish it was that easy. Once we entered the gate we had to take an escalator that directly led us to our block. Realizing that I couldn’t access the section where we had to meet Taylor Nation, I walked up to another security guy and told him everything and let me tell you he was my lifesaver and I wouldn’t have made it without him. He looked at me dead in the eye and said « follow me, okay? ». Morgen looked at me and said « oh my god, it’s time already??? Have the best time and DO NOT FREEZE LIKE I DID » and he hugged me so tight. Then the security agent walked me around the stadium, asking all of his colleagues along the way and guys literally no one working there had any idea of what was up with our blue papers. He was so sweet and reassuring telling me we still had time and asked me how I was feeling and we took secret lifts and passed the security and to anyone asking him what was up he said « she’s got a meet and greet and she’s with me ». At this point I realized I had found my guardian angel and I’m so bummed I didn’t ask for his name but shoutout to you superman cause you saved my life.

At 5:45, we arrived at the section 144 and I saw other girls with the blue paper. My Superhero made sure I was at the right place then wished me lots of fun. I started talking with everyone and that’s when I got to have a proper talk with Helena and let me tell you she’s the sweetest bean! Her mom was with us and was very friendly. They then opened the doors of the stadium and we found ourselves out right next to other blocks and bleachers (we could see the stage). We were asked to walk down the stairs. There were lots of Swifties on the other side of the barriers cheering us on and it was the sweetest thing ever! Once we were downstairs there was this massive entrance and we waited there for about 15 minutes. I got to talk with the twins Pauline and Florine as well while waiting and I started feeling very, very good. Just… very good. This guy from Taylor Nation came up to us and checked our names and gave us the renowned « Reputation Meet & Greet » wristband. I said remember this moment in the back of my mind. A few minutes later and we’re taken inside of the stadium, backstage. We walk into a big lounge with lots of food and couches and there is Scott Swift on our left, greeting us. It was weird seeing him in real life but I enthusiastically said « HI SCOTT! » and he was like « hey girls how are you doing! ». He seemed so happy to be there. From the lounge we could see the Rep Room and we freaked out. We were taken right in front of it and were asked to leave our things on a table and to enter the Rep Room. I’ll never forget this moment cause I held the twins and Helena and we walked in there hugging. The Rep Room was gorgeous, way more beautiful than in pictures. There was music playing, a TV with the Delicate music video on it, drinks on the left and cooked and baked food in the back with the throne. They told us to form a queue and the M&G almost immediately started.

Florine, Pauline and I looked at each other and said « Wait. We’re in the Rep Room and we don’t have the right to walk around it? FUCK IT. ». We walked to the cocktail bar and there were several drinks we could choose from, each being indicated with a Taylor Swift lyric sign. That’s when I saw the « I knew it from the first OLD-FASHIONED we were cursed ». Should I drink alcohol right before meeting Taylor Swift? HELL YEAH. So there we were, drinking an old-fashioned in the rep room and it was so iconic. Then the woman in the back of the room close to the M&G asked us to get in line so we just left our drinks and went back in the queue. That’s when GODDESS TREE PAINE stops at the entrance of the Rep Room and greets us. Most people didn’t see her but I got to talk to her with a few friends and we mentioned the Proud Signs Project we had organized the night before. She said she saw it come to life and it was beautiful and she was being very friendly and she waved back at me when she left.

I started focusing on the moment. The twins looked at me and said «Camille, SHE IS THERE. » I paid attention and suddenly heard TAYLOR FRICKING SWIFT LAUGHING AND TALKING AND I COULDN’T BELIEVE IT WAS ACTUALLY HAPPENING?????? I was the third last person and the twins were right before me. As the line got smaller and smaller I noticed the food and went through the same mental process of should I eat right before meeting Taylor Swift but there was a cookie and honestly isn’t it goals to eat a cookie in the rep room so I quickly left the line to get one and ate it. But then I realized that the twins were next and then it was my turn… so I just left a half-eaten cookie on the furniture, sorry @taylorswift and @taylornation for the inconvenience, it was delicious do not worry.

As the girls went into the room to meet Taylor, I was alone with Ghada and Morgan right behind me. I focused and told myself one last time what I wanted to tell Taylor (had also written them on my wrist just in case). It was happening. It was my moment and it was happening. The woman with the list (who I believe was Erika) asked me for my name and gave me the little card with which I could have access to my photo with Taylor. I could see Taylor. She was wearing this black t-shirt and had this kaki jacket wrapped around her waist (that turned out to be a fake-shirt skirt thanks @taylorswiftstyle ) and she had those killer heels high knee velvet black boots. Her hair was so pretty and she was telling the twins about how she had seen their tour post six months ago.

Then fate happened. I swear it did. One of my favorite songs of all time, Want You Back by Haim, started playing. I just love it so much!! I started dancing. Then the woman told me « okay it’s your turn » and I walk inside the room while dancing and I say « oh helloooothereeee »…

« Oh hi there buddy! » — a magical fairy princess walks up to me in all haste and hugs me. I’m in Taylor Swift’s arms and decide to introduce myself cause I wasn’t sure if she recognized me or not so while my head is in her hair I softly say « Hey, I’m Cee, seleniftie ». The magical fairy princess steps back and looks at me and her face lits up and I don’t know how I survived cause it was genuine but she looks at me deep in the eyes and shouts « OH MY GOD I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH YOU’RE SO AMAZING ». I look at her and say thank you I can’t believe you know my blog and she tells me how I’m always so positive and sweet which I reply to by saying that I try my best to send off positive vibes and she was like « that’s so nice, like honestly your posts always make me feel better ». You know how serious Taylor can get when she makes a speech or says something she genuinely means? That’s how she sounded and looked like. The room was silent but I couldn’t hear the music anymore, and still now I can clearly hear her say those words to me. But I played it cool, I have no idea how. So I then tell her how it’s been 3 years already since she followed me and I thank her for liking all those posts and she’s like « oh thank you! » and I tell her it’s so nice to meet her. I also thank her for wanting to meet me and she goes off like « oh I saw your post months ago and sent it my team as soon as possible, and like especially with the London shows I knew it would be hectic (that word really struck me) so I wanted to make sure I’d meet you » and in my mind a monkey jumps from tree to tree while playing cymbals but at this moment, I swear to you guys, I was being myself 100% and had no stress or whatsoever. Our conversation was so natural and she looked genuinely happy to see me. She then looks at me and says « oh my god you’re SO beautiful » which I reply to by saying « thanks you too! » and there I saw The Necklace™, it was really standing out since she was wearing this black t shirt so I just point at it and touch it and say « and look at that! oooooh » while doing the shimmy shoulders and she laughed and did the shimmy shoulders too and I was just out there backstage at the Wembley Stadium doing shimmy shoulders with Taylor Swift over the necklace that inspired my favorite song of hers like it’s a thing that happened.

We were just looking at each other so happily and there was this 0,2 seconds long blank and I suddenly reconnected to reality and heard Want You Back was still playing. I know she loves it a lot too and she liked my post about seeing HAIM two weeks ago so I start talking about them but she starts talking at the same time saying « so/do you… » and I was so unsettled cause TAYLOR SWIFT WAS TALKING TO ME that I mumbled something that apparently made no sense cause she looked at me all focused and serious and said « HUH? ». So there I go again telling « I love the music playing in the background, it’s Haim I love them » and she’s like « OH YEAHHH they’re amazing » and I tell her how I saw them in concert and she’s like « oh yeah you saw them in London? » and I said « no I saw them in Berlin » and it’s hitting me now that she actually remembered my post cause HAIM was playing in London a week before and I saw them two weeks before so she wasn’t exactly sure of the timeline but she remembered okay bye

(Also did I mention all this time she was looking at me in the eyes ??? we’re both very animatic people so I remember me doing gestures and her moving around and just feeling very at ease but she did! not! break! the! eye! contact! ever!) (and I have no actual memory of this but when I went out of the rep room I recorded my story on my phone and apparently she told me « you’re such a sweet person, you’re so nice » right after we talked about HAIM what what what)

This small talk helped me recollect my thoughts and I remembered my time was limited so I tell her « okay there’s one thing I really want you to know », and I tell her that I play music and I make covers and her face lits up again and she steps back and shouts « OMIGOD I DID NOT KNOW THAT OMIGOD » and I tell her how I’ve done a cover of Babe (reaction to that: « OHHHH THAT’S AMAZING OH MY GOD ») and pretty much all her songs and how they’re on my Tumblr and she can check them out and she told me « OMIGOD that’s so cool I need to check them out ».

Right after Taylor looked at me and walked up to me again and said « so hey, should we take a picture » so she pulls me closer and turns to me and opens her arms and i’m like fuckfuckfuck and look on my left and see all the people in there I didn’t even notice and we hug really tight and pose. We were hugging so tight I literally forgot to smile with my teeth so 2 seconds before they take the picture I open my mouth and that’s why i was so scared of the picture being awkward, but it turned out to be lovely.

The moment we released our embrace I saw a man coming out of the exit of the room with the signed papers and I knew what it meant (your time is over bitch) but I wanted to talk to her about something else so I immediately started talking only to realize that she was making sure with the photographer that the photo was good and she didn’t blink eyes or anything so I quickly said sorry and yeah I always have to check too cause it happens all the time. She nodded and was turning her back to the autograph-guy (let’s call him like that) and I was like you go girl it’s your moment so I tell her about the PROUD signs project that took place the night before and that I helped to organize and I was telling her how amazing it was and how I was running around with my friends giving the pieces of paper to people asking them to raise the sign during the song and she thanked me and told me that it was amazing and explained to me that she’s hardly surprised by things but that our project got her « really really surprised » and she wasn’t expecting it.

I then told her it was so nice to finally meet her and she told me the same and I have no idea of whether we hugged or not cause it was all a blur, the autograph-guy was handing me the paper being like « thanks for coming goodbye » but I remember us saying goodbye and Taylor quickly telling me « I will definitely check out your covers » and I left. They told me to follow someone and I walked back through the lounge and made my way outside and I saw the twins and we hugged so tight. We couldn’t believe it. Then my security guy superhero was waiting for me and you guys he literally walked me back to my section #ANGEL and I thanked him. I then walked up the stairs to Morgen and it was the longest walk ever. I was in shock. I was hardly breathing and it took me forever to get up there, I was holding my autograph and my things so tightly and when Morgen saw me he knew. I could see how proud he was. This random lady asked me if I was okay and I told her I’d just met Taylor and she was very confused and then I told Morgen everything and told you guys… and that’s the story of how I met Taylor Swift. The show was amazing, and at some point she talked about how she had met people at the London shows that were coming from different countries and it made me feel so happy and included. She knows that especially with the UK shows many of us were traveling from far away and she’s so appreciative of it.

Once we came back home I logged on the website with Morgen and Holly on the phone and my picture got uploaded so slowly it was torture, but the moment I saw our faces touching I lost it and started sobbing so slowly… It was 1AM so 2AM in France but I called my parents and they were so happy and excited for me, I really didn’t expect them to be that supportive but I think they were really happy for me and excited that my biggest dreams had come true. I couldn’t sleep and I went to bed at 4am, and Morgen woke up at 5:30am cause he had to take his bus. We hugged in a rush and when I woke up a few hours later I was alone with my memories. I cried a lot that day but seeing my friend Holly helped a lot.

I can’t believe I’m writing this story, and it’s almost done but it wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t mention you who’s reading this. Thank you. When I created my Tumblr account three years ago, I would have never expected to bond with so many people, make so many friendships and be part of such a beautiful community. Many of my friends told me that when I posted I had met Taylor their dashboard was filled with posts being like « CEE MET TAYLOR » and I obviously wasn’t there to see it but one thing I know is that my notifications were blown up and it made the moment even more magical.

To Taylor -- now I’ve told you that in person but thank you for wanting to meet me and thank you for being such a lovely person. Meeting you felt like meeting a friend and I feel like we clicked cause we are the same person on many levels. Thank you for giving so much of your time to your fans and to me - when I heard Love Story in my pink bedroom at 12 I would have never imagined that a few years later the princess in the castle would want to meet me.

I started writing this story on the plane but now I’m home on my bed. I went back to my normal life, to my internship, to my German capital but I’ll always look back on that weekend, that bubble of happiness with a heart full of love. Because in this moment, everything I had ever wanted...had just happened. ❤️

- Cee -

#and that's my story of meeting taylor swift #i can't believe it #i love you all so much #c met t

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

Text

Pink Sandcastles Pt. 2 of 2 (Trixya) - VonChoke

Summary: Trixie Mattel is a popular YouTube travel vlogger. When she receives an invitation to stay at a resort at La Union, Philippines, she had no idea that this particular trip would help her find out what home really means.

*She’s complete!!!*

Read part 1 on Tumblr Read part 1 on AO3

“Let me get this straight,” Kim said testily on the other side of Trixie’s laptop screen the next morning. Today she had white highlighting foundation that she has not yet blended in due to Trixie’s timely interruption again. “You were invited to La Union to review the beach and the resort there, but the real reason was Katya used her resort to lure you there and get closer to you?”

“Seems like it,” Trixie huffed.

“But you just found out last night from a comment on one of Katya’s IG pics that she’s in a relationship with, your words, a gorgeous, skinny burlesque star?”

“Exactly.”

“And how did you discover this?”

“I was checking Instagram on my way back from the bathroom and the first thing I saw was Katya’s newest post. Then I read someone named Violet Chachki commented ‘miss those hands on me babe’ on it and… ugh.”

“What fucking rom-com shit are you living in?”

“Goddamnit I know right!” she almost yelled, burying her face on her hands. “I didn’t even know she was flirting with me since VidCon and I don’t know if I might have accidentally flirted back!”

Kim snorted. “You dense idiot,” she said. There was a beat of silence and then, “So what are you going to do about it?” Another pause. “Have you guys talked yet?”

Trixie sighed, brushing back a pink strand away from her mouth. “Not yet.” As she said it, a notification lit up her phone’s screen. It was one of eight she has not replied to yet. “Katya’s uh… inviting me to brunch. She said she’s serving pancakes and a full explanation.”

Hopefully the whole story instead of the basic gist she was served last night; After Katya’s quiet confession that she was in a long distance relationship with another (way more gorgeous) person, Trixie felt completely embarrassed for believing she was getting to the big time for having someone personally invite her, all expenses paid, to another country for a free stay at their resort because she delivered quality YouTube content. Looking around at the silent group around her, she felt deeply mortified that they probably knew that Katya had taken a huge amount of effort to basically get some pussy. She wasn’t even someone worth seducing, what the hell? Her pride in her work was hurt so she quickly faked an upset stomach, excused herself, and ran back to her room.

“I really don’t know what to do, Kim,” she groaned.

“Well,” Kim said slowly. “How do you feel about Katya?”

Trixie dug deep into her mind. She and Katya well… clicked. Like two hurricanes merging into one destructive force. She does like Katya as a friend, but realizes that she knows nothing else behind the macabre and filthy humor and wide smile. Come to think of it, what sort of place does the dark humor come from?

“I… care for her,” Trixie finally said. “As a great friend. Other than that, I don’t know anything else about her. We don’t talk much about our past. Because when we’re together, it’s like… nothing else matters? I don’t even think about my own shit. I forget everything and only enjoy my time with her.” She locked eyes with Kim. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Ehhhh yeah,” said Kim. “But that’s probably a good place to start.”

“I’m going to meet her for brunch, aren’t I?” Trixie said, looking lost. “Because I really don’t know what else to do.”

“Come up with a list,” the Asian girl prompted whenever a friend needed direction. “Three things.”

“Okay,” Trixie breathed, sitting up. “One, talk to Katya. Two, decide what to do from there. And three… Oh right fuck. Vlog.”

“That’s a plan.” Kim smiled.

“It’s a plan. Thanks Kim, I’ll see you around.”

After disconnecting the call, Trixie sat back on her chair and allowed her mind to wander out the window. What exactly does she want with Katya? She wasn’t even sure if she wanted a relationship right now with all the traveling she’s planning on doing. During the day, she can freely say that she is self-sufficient and can hold her own without anyone by her side.

But midnight is a different story. Whenever Trixie lays on her pillow to sleep, her caged heart roams free. Like any other lonely person, they’ll never admit that she secretly cries out for a companion and longs to relate to love songs. The yearning filled her with agony sometimes, but she bears with it as she knows it’ll pass the moment she falls asleep. When she goes on through her day, Trixie no longer takes the time to dwell on wanting a romantic partner. Her desire of having someone to kiss and to take care of are buried under a modern day woman’s sensibilities.

She can do this. She’s old enough to know what she wants and which of Katya’s bullshit she’s not willing to put up with.

—————————

“Salamat po,” Trixie quietly thanked the waiter in Tagalog, something Jiggly taught her last night, for laying out her breakfast plate and orange juice in front of her. Across her, Katya had a coffee, a fluffy pastry, an orange, and a cigarette. She too looked anxious.

Trixie ate quietly, using the food as an excuse not to talk first. She didn’t make eye contact, instead looked out to the view of the ocean. When a breeze picked up, she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I really like your hair,” Katya finally said, getting her attention. Smiling, she added, “It’s like catnip for pussies.”

That seemed to break the ice wall between them. Trixie stared at her for a second in bewilderment and let out a snort and giggle of amusement. She did get a lot of lesbian attention online for her hair. In return, Katya laughed with relief at the reaction and let herself relax. She can do this.

“So… I owe you an apology. I guess wasn’t honest with you in the beginning,” she said.

“Really, you guess?”

“Shut up, Toby, let me be real for once,” Katya said, smirking. Continuing, she stared at a point above her as she gathered her words succinctly. “I… was already interested after we met at VidCon. I wanted to keep what we had going but I didn’t because life happened.”

She waved a hand at the building behind her. “The resort opened and I became extremely busy. Then when I watched your latest Japan vlog, I thought you looked so beautiful and happy and… I kind of missed you? Then I talked to Sasha, we thought that I should invite you here to Elyu so we could… talk more and the rest was history.”

Trixie nodded. Time for her to speak. “I guess I was… hurt. And embarrassed.” To Katya’s subtle questioning expression, she carried on in softer tones. “I thought you invited me here because I make great travel vlogs and wanted the best for your resort.”

“Oh mama, you are the best,” said Katya sincerely as she leaned forward. “I checked out all your videos after we met at VidCon and those are the five pinkest hours of my life I cannot get back.” She was relieved when Trixie let out a trill of giggles. “I’m really sorry for embarrassing you. That wasn’t my intention. I thought this was going to be a great way of getting to know you better but yeah, that was probably a dumb idea.”

“Not entirely,” Trixie said. She looked out to the ocean sparkling under the sun and the carefree shouts of other tourists and breathed it all in. She felt the distance from her drafty little apartment in Chicago stretch all the way here, a sunny and spacious bliss while sitting across a woman who found her weirdness worth the effort to be around.

She held her breath before letting out, “And Violet?”

Lowering her cigarette, Katya gave a small sad smile. “She was on vacation here when we met. It’s an open relationship because she’s always on tour with her troupe and I’m just here. I thought was okay in the beginning because I’m like seven different shades of fucked up and wasn’t sure I could fully commit. Now I don’t know if I should let her go or stay with her cause it was my fucking idea in the first place to ask for more. And god, there were the drugs…”

“Drugs?” This was the first time Trixie heard Katya talk seriously about drugs. She mostly chalked it to her dark humor and never thought it came from a real, scary place. “Oh wow, I didn’t know. I’m sorry I thought you’ve only been joking about those.”

“I wasn’t joking, bitch,” Katya laughed without humor and began peeling her orange. “Although… I do hate being serious all the time. I can’t take life too seriously anymore, otherwise I get sucked back in to the dark.”

“Oh yeah I totally get it. Joking as a coping mechanism. Oh honey, did you have an abusive step-dad too?” Trixie said in her driest tone.

Katya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, looking as though she didn’t know whether to laugh or not. “W-well, no. I was raised by a team of greasy Taco Bell employees who took me in when I was young,” she said seriously.

“What?” Trixie gaped. How did that even happ—oh, she was kidding. She glared at Katya wheezing in laughter and slapping her knee. “You bitch, I almost believed that,” she cried out, joining her in the hilarity.

“Hidden talent,” Katya cackled. “I swear I am able to drop into the pain of my personal experiences so effortlessly that allows people to believe in my bullshit.”

“Now I’m doubting this entire conversation,” Trixie sniffed before Katya quickly shook her head and sobered up.

“Oh no no, I’m not. Sorry, that’s on me. I need to say something stupid before I get into any serious topics.” She cleared her throat before speaking again. “I’m sorry you had to go through… that. Are you good now?”

Trixie leaned back into her chair and nodded, drawing her eyes downwards. “Yeah, I’m good. I don’t talk about him anymore.” She sighed, letting the moment breathe before bringing the topic back on track. “So, uh… Violet.”

“Right, yeah, Violet,” Katya sadly said. Steeling herself, she continued, “So I thought I was okay with the distance because I believed that Violet didn’t deserve me, didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve to deal with my problems on top of her touring schedule, airport drama, hotel conflama…”

“So why were you hitting on me then? Why are you still together?” Trixie made an effort to keep her voice steady. Her heart was already smarting for being in the position of ‘second choice’.

“I don’t know. I guess cause you’re you,” Katya said. There was a screwed up expression on her face as she battled her frustrations. “You get my psycho humor. I fall over from your wit. I like who I am around you. And… I’m still with Vi because I’m a fucking coward.

“Do you see the irony, Trix? I hate myself and believe that she doesn’t deserve me, yet I’m still with her because of the stupid fucking hope that she doesn’t see me the same way I see myself.” She drew a breath before continuing, “Would you honestly have given me a chance if I wasn’t with her?” She made a move to grasp Trixie’s hand in sincerity but the younger girl pulled away, frowning. It wasn’t fair that the ball was in her court now.

“Katya, I don’t think you should break it off with Violet just for me if you still want to stay with her,” Trixie slowly said, acknowledging the disappointed expression on Katya’s face. “Plus, I’m only getting to know you a little better now, so I can’t say yet.”

“You’re right.” Katya nodded in understanding, leaning back and sucking on her cigarette. “I’ve been a fucking idiot about this whole thing.”

“Absolutely, yeah.” Trixie’s familiar dry tone was back and it brought a smile to Katya’s face. “Inviting me to a beautiful tropical paradise to seduce the panties off me.” She shrugged. “I’ve had worst dates.”

“I have some work to be done today, but I’ll make it up to you tonight. And I can take you sightseeing tomorrow,” said Katya, sipping her coffee. “So, friends?” She tilted her chin up as she held out her cup. Trixie picked up her half full glass and clinked it.

“Friends.” It was a clean slate to start off from and that she can manage.

—————————

The rest of Trixie’s day was spent outside with camera work where she took more aerial shots of the beach with her drone and the gorgeous people surfing the ocean. She got into work mode as she checked if her “light” and “natural” makeup was still in place to give an on-camera narrative of the authentic and cultured peaceful ambiance of Elyu. She also made sure to get some playful shots for her Instagram Stories.

On her itinerary was to visit and feature Phi Phi’s speakeasy bar on her vlog. While the sun was setting, she made sure to get shots of the tasteful artwork hanging on the walls and interviewed Phi Phi about her collections.

“I love collecting artworks that were made by visitors here at Elyu. Take a look at this. It’s my newest piece. Sasha made it,” said Phi Phi, pointing out a contemporary graphic design of a crown, red lips, and a unibrow. To its right, an abstract piece composed of turquoise, bronze, and gold brush strokes hung near the door. “That one was made by Katya. She said she was inspired by the view of the sea from her office and how it helped relieve some of her anxiety.”

Trixie aimed her camera at the paintings. Through the lens, she stared hard as though hoping to learn something new about the way Katya’s mind worked. She thought she discerned a hopeful beauty and some sort of sadness from the colors and the strokes.

Next she visited Ongina’s place, a small eatery that served a variety of Filipino dishes. Taking the vegetarian option, Trixie dined on sweet and savory marinated fried tofu with green beans. She washed it down with a soda while taking down notes about the place.

“So, have you and Katya talked yet?” Ongina said, leaning her forearms on the counter.

Trixie quirked an eyebrow. “Why is everybody bringing up Katya today?” she said. Ongina shrugged.

“You girls seem close. It would be a shame if your friendship got permanently ruined after last night,” she said while wiping down the bar counter and taking away Trixie’s clean plate. “And it’s nice seeing her in a different mood that wasn’t lovable bitch.”

“So what the hell is she now?” said Trixie after another bubbly sip.

“Still a lovable bitch, but we don’t want to punch her this time,” Ongina said breezily. The pink haired vlogger squawked gracelessly.

Lastly, Trixie took up Jiggly’s offer of a tour of her brightly colored hostel. It was simple in its accommodations yet a favorite for bigger groups that came to visit for its rustic bunk beds and kitschy wall decors. As Jiggly gestured her arms dramatically towards the building, she declared, “Do you know who stayed here for months the first time she was here?”

Trixie snorted. “If the answer is Katya, I’m leaving,” she said dryly. Jiggly was taken aback and dropped her arms. Trixie was about to regret her sass when the hostel owner burst into booming laughter.

“H-how did you know?” she squealed. Trixie grinned apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude… It’s just that everyone has mentioned her name to me so many times today, I’m starting to get a little suspicious,” she said sheepishly. Jiggly got around to coughing herself into composure and smiled a little guiltily.

“Have we been that obvious?” she asked a little meekly, patting her long straight hair into place.

Trixie nodded. She turned away to look at the hostel with the intention to hide her smirk from Jiggly. She didn’t want to give her and the other girls the satisfaction of knowing that their big plan to keep Katya fresh in Trixie’s mind all day kind of fucking worked.

—————————

The sun had long given away its stunning strokes of orange and yellows clouds, setting a blanket of dusky purple and blue over the beach. Katya had invited Trixie out to a post-dinner walk along the dimly lit beach. It was peaceful, Trixie had thought. Her bare toes enjoyed the feel of the fine sand, something she was not able to tolerate under the heat. There was something to be said about connecting with nature by listening to the waves move in its natural that could melt away the city stress. She glanced sideways at Katya’s profile, admiring the shape of her nose and how her skin looked luminous among the smoke of her cigarette escaping from red lips. It was quite the vision Trixie wanted to capture for her own self and never release such beauty to the world. She contemplated how some people compare themselves to the sun, fiery and outgoing, and how their veiled eyes see the other as the quiet beauty of the moon.

The sea and the sky kissed and blew out a cold breeze that smelled of the salty ocean. Trixie shivered.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

“No ma’am. I always stay warm from the fire in my pussy,” Katya replied, grinning proudly around her stick. This earned a Trixie-screech that scandalously broke the tranquil air. There was a beat of silence after she had composed herself that Katya eventually ended.

“Trixie,” she began. “You know why I stayed here?”

“Why?”

“Three years ago, I spent almost all of my savings to check myself into rehab. I had a psychotic mental breakdown that my own parents had to call the police on me because I was running buttfuck naked out of the house.” There was a solemnity in the way Katya spoke about this that Trixie had to stare, wondering if the woman was dead serious or not again.

Katya then opened up about her struggle with drug addiction to a length that she had to light up another cigarette. Trixie held on to every word, determined to better understand her history. Rehab was successful, although the relapses never went away, they were easier to manage.

“So when I got here, it was so different from the city and the suburbs and for the first time in fucking history… My mind went quiet.” She gestured a flatline across her forehead before turning to Trixie. “Have you ever been to a place, in all of your travels, where it felt like all the noise just goes away?”

Trixie smiled with nostalgia. Blue and white villages came to her mind as she remembered the smell of warm flaky pies in the afternoon. “Yeah… It was my third trip, I think. Greece. Like I took off my earphones because I didn’t need the music to stop the noise in my head.”

“I never intended to hang around for long,” Katya continued as she nodded, inhaling her stick. “But I met Karl and Sasha, and we struck a deal together. Made it work. I invested in a share of the resort and it felt like I had purpose again. Also, the locals here? Oh mama, they know how to live life properly.” Trixie nodded silently. She could tell Katya was off to a long ramble by the way her hands began to gesture wildly to punctuate and to emphasize. She found herself not wanting to cease the stream of its course.

“But what I absolutely loved was the people that came to this place. I love the stories they told, I love talking to people, did you know that? Oh my god, the things they’ve seen, all their dreams and fears and shit…

“And then they leave. It’s like reading an anthology. I provided strangers an ear or advice. Sometimes I couldn’t help them and that’s a-okay. It’s like… I get to be the fixed point in their journey where I get to answer some lifelong questions. There were so many lives I learned about—remind me to tell you about Craig, he’s the bestest when it comes to movies—and it’s fucking redonkulous how everything we want in life is rooted to just wanting to be loved. Like in all our searching, the meaning of life comes from each other.”

Trixie folded her arms in contemplation. If travel taught her anything, the most memorable places weren’t about the sights or the food, it was about how open the locals were to connecting with foreigners.

Katya sighed. “And yet, I’m just here.” She waved a vague hand over the beach. “I’ve been here for a long while now and sometimes I feel lost myself. Or cut off from the rest of the world.” She grabbed Trixie’s hand and looked at her straight in the eye. “I’m sorry again for not telling you why I wanted you here. The loneliness was becoming unbearable and everything was empty and my head was becoming chaotic… I think that’s why I contacted you.”

“Maybe you need a new home?” suggested Trixie.

“I think I’ll find home on my own terms,” Katya replied softly.

Trixie frowned in confusion over Katya’s choice of words. What did she mean to ‘find home in her own terms’? In all of her travels, all the places she has visited and documented, has she ever found what home really means? Yet there was something familiar with Katya, in her words, in the scene she described here on the beach, looking out to the horizon—

“BITCH!” Trixie shrieked all of a sudden, stopping her tracks and startling Katya. “WAS THAT CONVERSATION ABOUT THE ‘CONTACT’ BEACH SCENE?!”

She received confirmation when Katya doubled over and began rolling over the sand in soundless laughter, nodding in glee. Trixie stomped away before she could wrap her fingers around her friend’s throat. She yelled that she was going back to her room, leaving Katya to pick herself up when she was done. She wanted to believe that Katya was bullshitting about everything, doubt her sincerity, but deep inside she understood. The search for love is life’s greatest trial that many leave messages to the universe, hoping to hear that they aren’t meant to be alone forever.

Trixie turned to look back the same moment Katya did. It could have been a passing nanosecond fancy, but Trixie swore to the stars above that she felt the phrase “I’m falling for Katya” shake her core. It was a strange feeling, she imagined, to experience a possible concept transition into powerful words. And it made the whole situation scarier now as it was one step closer to solidifying into reality.

She waited for the sense of hopeless despair she usually felt when she catches feelings for someone, but it never came. Instead she felt a glow filling her chest, a thrill that zipped through her nerves and made her gasp softly in surprise at how quick these sensations engulfed her. How does one stand by the ocean and feel like drowning? How does falling for someone feel like flying?

Their eye contact was broken by Katya sheepishly looking away, as though she had realized she had been staring too much. She lit up another cigarette.

“Your an idiot,” Trixie finally said into the silence.

“Yes and?” said Katya, smiling a little.

“And I said ‘you’re’ without the apostrophe r e.”

Katya gasped, eyes sparkling once again in mirth. “You take that back, you uncultured, illiterate, wretched heathen!”

Trixie began to walk back to the direction of the resort, calling over her shoulder with a playful laugh, “You deserve it!”

“I can’t even look at you right now,” Katya hollered, following her footsteps. “How dare yo—this changes everything I feel about you.” Trixie stopped in her tracks and so did her heart. She arched an eyebrow until Katya caught up with her.

“And how exactly do you feel about me?”

Katya blew out a cloud of smoke, appraising her friend for a beat while smirking. Trixie momentarily glanced at her rose red lips that doesn’t blossom open as much as it caterwauled inelegantly throughout the open space that probably needs to be ticketed for disturbing the peace. She could feel the anticipation stretching out, wondering what Katya was going to admit to her under the moon and stars… until the bitch simply winked and sashayed away.

The next morning, Trixie woke up early to catch Vivienne’s surfing lessons. It was a struggle to get out of bed that Trixie had to remind herself that her surfing lesson was also for the vlog. She grabbed her camera that was on her bed side, turned it on, and grumbled into it.

“Hey guys, it’s five in the morning and I have a surfing lesson today.” She rubbed her bleary eyes. “If you like watching me fail at stuff, keep watching because this might be my last video before I drown myself. Or get snacked on by a shark, whichever comes first.”

She turned off the camera and got up. She stretches hard before slowly encasing herself in a long sleeved blue and pink wetsuit that cut off inches above the knee over her swimwear. She met Vivienne right outside the resort, who energetically waved at her in contrast to Trixie’s sleep fuzzy brain. Her wild wavy black hair was tied up in a high bun and Trixie’s brain seemed to jolt awake up at the view of her abs above a pair of black shorts that covered half of her thick thighs. Good morning indeed.

Three hours later of learning the basics and trying to balance on the surfboard, the sun rays were soft and beautiful over the sparkling water and Vivienne’s morena skin. The teacher and student now sat on a low stone barrier facing the shore as Trixie was catching her breath from the session.

She unstrapped the camera from her surfboard. “I had just finished my first surfing lesson here with Vivienne, who is the most patient and wonderful woman to ever teach my ungraceful, clumsy ass,” Trixie said into it. Vivienne waved and smiled as Trixie affectionately laid her stringy wet head on her shoulder.

“She was a natural,” Vivienne said.

“Am I?”

“At wiping out.”

“Bitch,” Trixie laughed. She then gave a narrative of her first time on the board, how she was worried about slipping and hitting her head underwater, and how much fun she had learning despite catching not a single wave. She jumped off the stone barrier to focus her camera for a gratuitous shot of Vivienne’s enviable curves and abs, which she thought deserved a whole post of its own. Vivienne modestly giggled at the attention. Trixie was about to launch into a litany of worship of Vivienne’s hard work when a pair of wide gray eyes suddenly filled the frame. Trixie jumped back with a surprised yelp. “Katya!”

“Morning! I was watching you whores all morning,” she cackled. She was wearing her sunglasses on her head, black shorts, and a red floral silk shirt that had the sleeves folded up to the bicep and the front casually unbuttoned only halfway through, exposing bare cleavage. To cap off Trixie’s raging lesbian fantasies, Katya had her shirt in a French tuck and a motorcycle helmet dangling off her hand. Trixie gaped. The sight was all together stunning and was all too much for one morning.

Vivienne eventually broke the staring contest with laughter and hopped down the barrier to cheek kiss Katya. She gave Katya’s outfit a one over, checked Trixie’s reaction, and winked at the blonde before enveloping Trixie in a proud hug. “I’ll see you girls later! You did a good job today, Trixie.”

“T-thanks Vivienne!” Trixie said, returning the hug and waved as she walked away, picking up Trixie’s rented surfboard along the way. That view was looking good too.

“So,” Katya coughed. “How was it?”

“Hmm? Oh! It was great! I mean I wasn’t that great, but I had fun,” Trixie said in a giddy rush, glancing back at Katya.

There was something sexy about feeling the rush of adrenaline in the early morning and being under the control of someone very attractive in something as temperamental as the ocean. Looking into Katya’s eyes, aglow with the morning rays of light, filled her heart with something that felt like promise and care. Emboldened by her own high spirits, Trixie held eye contact while she unzipped her wetsuit to reveal underneath a green and white polka dotted bikini with a high waist bottom that accentuated her hips. With her pink hair, it was a whole watermelon fantasy and Katya’s raised eyebrows and unbridled smile was the cherry on top. As Trixie walked back to the resort, she called over her shoulder and extended her hand, “Are you coming for breakfast?”

Between two potential lovers, it’s most often that the palms kiss first before the lips do. It was as if Trixie had held out a magnet, and Katya’s own body responded like it were cold hard steel. Her feet quickly shuffled forward as her arm immediately extended to accept the invitation of Trixie’s hand. Both girls discreetly blushed at the new words their bodies just learned and intertwined their fingers together. And neither had let up until they got to their breakfast table.

————

Trixie sighed before sipping her late night cup of coffee at Velour’s. The sun had set, the beach’s nightlife was awake, and here she was waiting for Sasha to finish helping her staff with a large order so she could talk. Tonight, Sasha was wearing glitter red lipstick, an artful eyeshadow, and fake freckles across her nose. The whole look seemed to brighten up the ambiance of the cafe.

“What’s the occasion?” Trixie asked, nodding at the patterned outfit appreciatively as Sasha gracefully took a seat across hers.

“Art gallery viewing at Phi Phi’s. The gallery is called ‘Press and Play: Movement in Flow’. Would you like to come? I’m also hoping to meet potential business partners to expand the cafe,” Sasha replied. Even the way she crossed her legs were elegant. Trixie shook her head in regret.

“I can’t. I have to work on the vlog before I leave tomorrow, see if there’s a scene I might have forgotten to shoot,” she said.

“That’s right, it’s your last night here,” Sasha said in somber tones. “So what did you do today? Vivi told me you went surfing this morning.”

Trixie lit up as she recounted the rest of her day; Katya had taken her on a historical sightseeing tour via her motorcycle. As she spoke of the old churches and an old watch tower leftover from the Spanish occupation era, memories of tightly clinging to Katya’s midsection as the latter’s motorcycle zoomed down almost empty roads surfaced to her mind’s forefront. While she was describing the grape field Katya took her to, she thought of the way the light dappled on the older woman’s face underneath the grape vine leaves and forced her to stop moving so she could take a photo. When she told Sasha about the delicious dinner they had of burgers (hers a vegetarian option) and iced tea on the second floor of a beach front restaurant, all she could think about was how the sound of the waves crashing became the soundtrack of Katya’s wildest life stories, ranging from serious topics about her battle with drug abuse to the nasty and hilarious one of how she had once shat on her friend Courtney’s bed.

She remembered how she had wanted to hold Katya’s hand again while they were walking but chickened out, so she compensated by leaning her head on her shoulder while they rested. Or she swears that Katya had been staring because when she looked back, Katya quickly turned her head to the other direction. She recalled shivering whenever Katya leaned in closely to whisper something in her ear.

This woman had no shame in her being. Her unfiltered words, her animated expressions with her freedom to be. It enamored Trixie. Like the ocean they were facing, she felt unlimited. In that moment, she believed that a lot of things didn’t matter anymore just as long Katya kept her eyes bright with her enthusiasm of discussing whatever topic came to her head.

“Trixie?” Sasha punctured her thoughts. “Trixie, are you okay?”

“I think I like her,” Trixie said simply after a long pause. Sasha raised her eyebrows and her mouth fell open in delight.

“Do you really?” she gushed.

“I do.” Trixie smiled bashfully, glancing at Sasha’s little head tilt of interest.

“Have you told Katya that?” she said, chuckling.

Trixie nodded. “I did. She was talking about… God, I can’t remember now… But it was about something and she was stuttering like an idiot, trying to get her words right and… I just laughed. And when she asked what was I laughing at, I was like ‘Nothing, I just really like you.’”

Sasha gave a little gleeful gasp and a grin that stretched all the way across her face. “And then what did she say??”

Trixie shrugged, grinning. “She looked shocked, then happy. Like really happy.”

“Sooo what happens now?” Sasha prompted. She delicately laid her chin on the back of her hand and patiently waited for an answer. Trixie huffed, glancing at the shore as though hoping the answer to that would walk by.

“I don’t know…” she sighed. “Whatever I say to her, it’s not going to change the fact that I’m leaving tomorrow. Plus, she’s still with Violet so it’s not like my feelings are going to matter, doesn’t it?”

“Oh I think it will. Where is Katya anyway?”

“Her office. Said she had some business to get done first,” said Trixie. She finished the last sip of her coffee and was about to take out her wallet to pay when Sasha waved it off.

“On the house,” she said, smirking at Trixie’s surprise. “It’s your last night here and you’ve made my friend very happy these past few days. Just promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Tell Katya your truth.”

Trixie sighed. “But I’m not sure what is the truth…” she said. Sasha waved a finger.

“No. Not the truth,” she repeated. “Your truth.”

———

It was nearing midnight. The rest of her evening had been spent answering emails and sorting through her pictures and videos from the time she left the airport to the latest ones she took earlier today. She organized them by day and sub-labeled them by activity, knowing full well that if she did this after she got home, she’d be too exhausted to even start it. For the first time in her travel history, she made a new folder for one person.

Trixie rubbed her eyes from underneath her glasses. She knew she had snapped Katya in more artful shots, but she hadn’t realize just how much she took all in all. There was one from her first night with Katya’s other friends drinking, and she used the light nearby to give Katya an almost noir look with the wispy cigarette between her fingers. Scrolling down, she perused a goofy one of Katya; jaw wide open in mid-shriek and her eyes squinted close. She forgot the joke that was said but she can almost hear the breathless wheezing laughter coming from the picture.

The last one took her breath away, the one from the grape field. The shadows of the leaves played around her face and to her chest as her lips were closed around a grape. Trixie shook her head, trying to fight off her bubbling feelings for the woman she was going to leave tomorrow.

It was truly better off they stay friends, Trixie was thinking. The spaces in her mind cautiously played out a daydream, one where she imagined being Katya’s girlfriend, holding hands with her and traveling the world together. It was a pleasant feeling, knowing that someone will always be there to fly alongside with her. But the moment she imagined kissing Katya, she could feel herself flush and quickly shut the daydream down. It was way too good. Reality was going to be a bitch to face had she let it play out.

Trixie heard knocking on her door. Her gut already told her who was on the other side as she swung the door open. She was right.

“Hi. Can I come in?” Katya asked softly, hands tucked inside the pockets of her shorts. Trixie blinked. The first thing that drew her eyes in was the way Katya’s red lipstick framed her slightly open mouth. Next she noticed how her dark, smoky eyes lined a beseeching expression that was cautiously asking to be let in. She was still wearing her mouth-watering casual clothes from earlier and her dirty blonde hair seemed as though a hand had ran through it several times. Trixie minutely chased the thoughts away and opened the door wider to let her in.

The room was a little tossed up with most of her electronic and camera gear on the desk and half folded clothes and shoes on the bed. A hot pink empty suitcase sat nearby the window. Trixie apologized for the mess and quickly straightened up her things, explaining that she had been meaning to pack but needed to work while she was still inspired. Katya silently nodded as she sank down to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes darting around the corners of the room. Once she was done fixing, Trixie leaned against the table with her arms lightly folded over the pink with white “TRAVEL BARBIE” lettering cropped hoodie she was wearing. Both women said nothing. There was a new charged energy in the room, an anticipation as thick as molasses. It was possible that something could happen in the next five minutes, and Trixie couldn’t find the right words to break the tension.

“Trixie—”

“Katya—”

The both giggled. “You first,” Trixie said, smiling.

“Right, here I go.” Katya returned the smile quickly before huffing out a breath. “I just… want to thank you for accepting my invitation in the beginning. Sorry I was weird and I hope you still had a comfortable stay at my resort. If there’s anything else I can help you with, I’d be glad to do it for you.” Trixie nodded, her expression serious.

“I had a really great time here, despite being seduced by a Sugar Mommy. I’ll send you my therapy bills, you fucking cougar,” she quipped dryly, causing Katya to squint in breathless laughter and to flail her legs over the bed. “You are like, what? 57?”

“That fucking pink hair—I knew you didn’t strike me as the type who, you know, actually works hard for her money,” Katya wheezed through her laughter. Trixie’s mouth dropped in fake outrage.

“Oh bitch excuse me, I built my vlog with hard work. But if I wanted a Sugar Mommy to pay for everything, I could’ve gotten one.”

“Because you are what? Poor.” A teasing grin splayed across Katya’s face. Trixie felt the shade dive deep all the way to her childhood in rural Milwaukee and shrieked in laughter. Katya then rolled around the bed to her favorite sound and bizarrely ended up in a pose with one leg stretched in to the air. They felt more at ease now with humor introduced into the serious conversation.

Then Katya decided to stab the atmosphere with her own knife. “Oh and by the way I also broke up with Violet.”

“You what?!” Trixie gasped, her laugh halting to a screeching stop. Of all the dumb decisions—

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” Katya said quickly, sitting back up on the bed. “I Skyped her awhile ago and we talked for hours. I told her the truth and… well, she wasn’t happy with it.” Trixie meant to interrupt but Katya held out both her hands. “But-but she also couldn’t promise me when she’s coming back home here. Or I’m not sure if she wants to call this place a home… Do you know how hard it is to buy rhinestones in this country?” She snorted humorlessly. Trixie shook her head, but deep inside she understood what Katya was implying. Based on their conversation the night before, she realized she was looking for a place to call home too. And she wasn’t talking about four walls and a roof.

“But Katya… I’m leaving too,” Trixie said almost angrily. Why did Katya have to love those who has to leave her? It wasn’t fair. She folded her arms again. “I don’t know if I can come back here. Or if you can even leave your resort.” Or, Trixie didn’t want to verbalize, if she could manage her travel vlog career from a different country just to be with Katya. It was her greatest passion and she would not give it up that easily. Traveling made her whole and she wanted to be a complete being for whoever she will give her heart to.

“I know, I know,” Katya said, grinning mischievously that, Trixie had learned, preceded a heartfelt comment. It was her defense mechanism in play when she was about to reveal a deeply vulnerable truth. “But it doesn’t matter. Wherever you’re going next, so does my home.”

The weight of the words sank in between the silence and flowered out to fill the room. Trixie’s mouth fell open and she couldn’t stop the blush creeping up her neck. Katya had just handed Trixie a part of her to carry around in all her future travels as she acknowledged that the resort was no longer considered her home. Katya lowered her head, if it was possible, in dignified embarrassment.

“Okay,” Trixie began, breaking the silence. Time to let the feelings out. “Again, I really had a nice time here. And I don’t mind having your batshit ass around.” She lowered her eyes. “I like talking with you and I think you’re one of the strongest persons I know because you’ve had shitty stuff happen to you before but you never became an asshole because of it. You’re like, really fucking smart and hard working and really good to people… and… uh…” She swallowed. There was no going back now after this. “You’d definitely have a chance. With me. If you’d still like.”

Katya’s gaze softened as she looked up to her favorite person. “All I need is one chance. Just one,” she said, standing up from the bed to meet Trixie’s eyes in all seriousness. Trixie inhaled sharply and too stepped forward, charmingly towering over Katya’s sinewy frame. The air thickened and all it takes is one move to push things to no return. Who will make the move?

“Trixie Mattel, I’m not going to let you leave this resort until I kiss you.”

Trixie’s brain short-circuited as her eyes glazed over. It was whispered so softly had she not been a breath away from Katya, she would not have caught it. “Where?” she teased lightly, buying herself some time to breathe from the situation. A shark like expression erupted from Katya’s face.

“You brat.” She smirked, eyes sparkling. She continued, “On your cheek. Or your fingertips. It doesn’t fucking matter. Wherever you want. That would be enough.” Trixie pulled back ever so slightly to stare at the small genuine smile on her face. There was a rare sincerity to Katya’s voice that wasn’t suffixed by a guffaw and melted her heart.

Trixie hesitantly turned her head to the side to hold her cheek out, allowing. As Katya slowly moved closer, Trixie caught a whiff of the ocean, smoke, and perfume. The twist of scents rapidly triggered her brain to overload with picturesque memories. In the full space of a second, her universe was filled with the smell of the seaside from her balcony at night time, moments of staring from the back of the motorcycle at Katya’s glistening neck that probably tasted like saltwater, and the sensual wisp of cigarette smoke emitting from between her fingers over a hearty laugh. If this is what caused Trixie to change her mind, she had no regrets about turning her head to meet her lips with Katya’s at the last millisecond.

All of Trixie’s thoughts quieted, died down, but such as nuclear explosions do, her brain went from white blank to exploding into colorful chaos. It didn’t feel like the simple action of two lips meeting, but a pull towards the being that is Katya. She decided that lips weren’t enough physical contact so she wrapped her arms around Katya’s neck, bringing her home. The older woman, who had frozen in surprise, immediately pushed Trixie against the edge of table, closing the space between their hips. Trixie could feel the heat spread throughout her entire body from the pleasurable delight of being trapped against a solid object with only a pair of well-manicured hands on her waist holding her down.

Her leg slowly moved up to Katya’s calves and rested over her ass, pulling in to lessen the distance, if there was any left possible, and to anchor herself against the storm. Katya groaned, losing her fucking mind over the eroticism of her right pelvis pressed against the apex of Trixie’s thighs. She deliciously squeezed said fleshy thigh, feeling the soft, smooth skin and roundness that was uniquely woman. Trixie gasped at the sensation. Her hands began to roam as she lowered her raised leg to meet Katya’s fingers, which slid down from her thighs to clutch the back of her knee. Trixie inhaled sharply and her breathing grew shallower when Katya thrust her tongue inside her mouth and, at the same time, cleverly moved her middle finger up and down, and circling rhythmically, over the crease of Trixie’s bent knee, a female version of stroking a guy’s finger with a promise of the real thing coming soon. With little left to the imagination of where this was headed, she pulled away from Katya with a loud moan.

Both women stared at each other, breathing heavily, wide eyes searching for any sign, any hint, that they’re going to be okay. That this terrifying and exhilarating feeling was okay. With the help of the bright harsh light of her room, Trixie’s eyes hungrily took in Katya’s swollen wet red-smudged lips, dark blown out pupils, mussed up blouse exposing one shoulder and a nipple, and dirty blonde hair that she had definitely grabbed with her own hands. And Trixie thought she was the ravished one.

Katya let go of Trixie’s knee, lifting her fingertips up to the younger girl’s cheek, wordlessly asking if they could go further. She felt a shock throughout her entire body when Trixie gently pushed her away and walked to the door. Katya felt her heart drop all the way to the bottom of her stomach, believing that she had made an absolutely huge mistake and that Trixie was going kick her out of the room and tell her that she didn’t want this, that she was too old for her, and deserves way better than a former drug addict. She could feel her throat choking up, was about to wrap her arms around her stomach, until Trixie simply switched off the lights and bathed them both in moonlight from the window.

———

The sun was high and bright at mid-afternoon. The rented car sped past small bungalow houses, rice fields, traffic laden highways, to a bustling city, and soon, they would be at the Clark International Airport. Trixie was curled against Katya’s body almost the entire ride. It wasn’t much of a difference in position of how they woke up that morning, especially with Katya stroking Trixie’s cotton candy hair as dawn’s light seeped through the window. Verbal promises were whispered all night as the non-verbal ones were kissed onto naked skin. It was as though Katya wanted to soon fill Trixie’s heart with something before the painful absence sets in between them hours from now.

“I wish I could stay,” Trixie said quietly. The car was in the same city now as the airport and she could feel the hourglass sand running low with her remaining time.

“I wish you would,” said Katya, continuing to stroke Trixie’s hair before giving it a kiss. “But you have a life of your own.”

Trixie sat up, suddenly filled with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to be one of those who leaves you again—”

“Don’t be.”

“I want to keep you.”

Katya struggled for an answer to that one. Coming up with nothing, she could only gather the younger girl back into her arms so she would not see the stray tear she was wiping away.

With her head against Katya’s chest, Trixie traced the tattoos on her forearm from where her sleeve has rode up. “What does this one mean to you?” she quietly said to the left one. “Is it a Tarot card?”

Katya nodded. “The Fool,” she answered. “New beginnings, naivety, leap of faith.”

“And this is Death?” Trixie glanced at the other arm.

“Yep. It means change, mortality, letting go…” Katya glanced down to meet her eyes. “It, uh, depends on which side you see them. Things can change their meanings if you look at it in another way, you know?”

There was a moment of silence as the two women stared at each other. The car was pulling into the airport’s security checkpoint and they both felt time starting to slip away quickly. “You know what’s one thing I lo–like about you?” Trixie said, staring straight into her gray eyes, trying not to give away that she almost slipped. “You absolutely have no filter. You are so free to be yourself. Don’t ever change that.”

Katya’s mischievous smile returned. “So why does it feel like I’m the one trapped here?” she said.

“Come with me,” Trixie blurted out. She regretted it immediately, thinking how much she sounded like a child. “I mean…” Her words were hushed with a kiss.

“Let’s just see which back alley life takes us before it fucks us up, okay?” Katya whispered to her lips then grinning. They finally pulled up to Departure. Katya helped her with her suitcases and other bags before she was unable to take it and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I can’t wait for the video,” Katya said into her ear. “You’ve always been so talented with storytelling and a camera. Remember that’s also why I brought you here.” Trixie nodded into her shoulder, fighting back her own tears.

“I hope my vlog would help bring more stories your way,” she said, releasing her hug. There was an intensity in Katya’s staring, one that fiercely declared “I love you, Trixie”, only held back by her tongue thinking that after one night of sex was too early to say out loud. Yet Trixie picked up on the expression, but couldn’t say it back either. She poured what words she cannot say yet into a tearful, lingering kiss. As they parted, Trixie picked up her bags before walking to the doorway of the airport.

Katya watched Trixie until she was no longer in sight. With a heavy heart, she got back into the car and was silent throughout the entire ride back to La Union.

———

THREE MONTHS LATER

Trixie was about to hang up after the ninth ring when her online call was finally picked up.

“Hello?”

“Sasha?” Trixie said softly.

“Darling, how are you doing?” Sasha’s low voice cooed from the other side of the world.

“I’m… I’m doing great,” the younger girl said, trying not to sound too fragile. “Just wanted to know how you’re doing.”

There was a pause before Sasha replied. “I’m doing wonderful. The cafe is doing great and I may be opening a second one somewhere in Metro Manila soon. It’s going to be at Bonifacio Global City, which is a huge deal!”

“That’s good to hear,” Trixie said, smiling. She exhaled heavily. “Sasha—”

“Are you okay, Trixie?”

“I just talked to Katya and…”

“Oh dear, is anything wrong?”

“No, none at all. I just… I just really miss her and it hurts,” Trixie sniffed, clutching the side of her bed where she was sitting on. “It hurts so much, Sasha. I just got back from my trip to Australia and… I thought traveling again would make it easier. But I don’t feel complete anymore.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Sasha said sadly. “I remember how happy you looked when you told me you liked her. Trust me, darling. It hurts for Katya too. It may even hurt for her even more.”

“Why?”

Trixie could imagine Sasha pursing their glittery lips before answering in a tone that felt like she was sitting in a Philosophy lecture.

“Because the absence of a lover is felt more strongly by the one who is left behind. Such as in ancient times, it’s man who goes off to hunt or to sail, and the woman waits for him to come back.”

Trixie fell silent. It finally clicked now when Katya had told her at the airport how she felt trapped or when she talked about ships docking at her port, only to leave later at some point. Guilt permeated her heart as she thought of Katya going through her day on the beach, hoping that one day, or someday, the girl she loves will return. While Skype sessions were frequent, it was the bodily absence of each other that was putting them through a longing that had no end. The agony was real.

“I want to keep her around,” she said, sniffing back her tears. “But my friend Bob said that the long distance is going to be hard when we live in different timezones. What do we do?”

“You know, dear, you have the option to not pursue the relationship if it’s too taxing on both of you,” Sasha said. But before Trixie could interrupt, they plowed on. “BUT that doesn’t mean you have to give up. I think you know what I mean when I say that the older you grow, the easier it is to lose contact with friends along the way, yes? So if there’s someone worth keeping in your life, it’s going to take a lot more effort to hold on to them. It’s hard, but we do it anyway because they’re worth it.”

Trixie burst into sobs. Her heart and mind both agreed strongly that Katya was worth everything, and the intensity of those feelings spilling out were overwhelming. There was a sense of relief that she still could feel her humanity capable of loving someone so much it caused her pain. She tried to compose her voice, only cracking a little. “D-doesn’t it sound stupid that… Traveling makes me feel right at home, that moving around feels like home? But this last trip didn’t feel like it…”

Sasha paused to think. “It seems the journey is more important to you than the destination… Correct me if I may be wrong, but have you ever thought that you were escaping from something?” they said. Trixie’s mouth fell open in realization. Indeed, why has she been traveling in the first place?

She began to narrate her history to Sasha through her sniffles, who patiently listened. When she was eighteen, Trixie left her family home to find a new life away from her abusive step-father. When she thought she had gotten away, she continued to run from the voices in her head that yelled that she wasn’t good or smart enough to make it in a big city. And when she had finally found monetary success in her YouTube travel vlogs and other side hustles, she had immediately worked herself to exhaustion to run away from idleness, terrified that the moment she rested, her income will fall and will be back at poverty. It was why Kim and Bob called her a workaholic, something she had honestly believed was a good virtue for a while. Until Katya, damn that girl, spoke of finding something, or someone, real to stand still for. She wanted to stop running. She had to do something.

“Trixie?”

“Hey Sasha, that business contact you have in Manila… What’s his name again?”

———————

FIVE MONTHS LATER

THE REAL TEA BEHIND MY LA UNION VLOG—AND A SURPRISE ANNOUNCEMENT 842,711 views

“Hi guys,” Trixie softly beamed to her viewers. It felt strange for her to start a vlog without the hyped up, perky energy she usually puts on. She shyly tucked her hair behind her ear before saying, “I’ve, uh, been wondering for months if or how I should be telling you guys this story… But I think now is the perfect time.”

Her beam turned into a grin as she couldn’t help reminisce the good times she had on that sliver of paradise. A glow lit up her face.

“Several months ago, I was invited to La Union by a friend I met at VidCon. Turns out I had been casted by some almighty force above to star in a Greg Berlanti rom-com starring me and Charlize Theron from Atomic Bland…”

She snorted. Her cheeks slightly pinked before stating the words with a glowing smile. “What I mean to say is… I met someone.”

With a fluttering trail of photos and funny videos included into her vlog, Trixie told the story of how she met Katya, her friends, their brief conflict, and how they bonded even further after she left Elyu. Then she gave a quick rundown about the past few months where both ladies worked tirelessly on closing a business deal that gave Katya a brand new opportunity.

“So without further ado, may I bring to the stage… The incomparable, the legendary, the festering pile of garbage I could not scrape off my shoe, my new travel vlog partner Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova. Or as your dad calls her, Katya!”

Messy dirty blonde hair and straight perfect teeth, the glory that was Katya slid into the seat next to Trixie. While her body language stayed polite and composed, she had a wild manic grin that promised to bring crazy shenanigans to Trixie’s next world adventure. A pair of tiny plastic hands topped both of her pointer fingers.

“Katya will be joining me on my future travels until she dies of arthritis,” Trixie explained.

“I’d die of diabetes actually,” Katya injected as-a-matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

Katya quickly turned to lick Trixie’s face, causing both of them to flail, scream, and crash off-screen. A quick jump cut edit had them both back into the frame.

Trixie took up the lead. “We’re also thinking about doing a short vlog series of us talking about whatever we want when we’re not on the road. Feel free to comment below what we should talk about first—”

“And we’ll see if we can try to stay on topic,” said Katya, grinning deviously. “Oh! I bet you’re all wondering what happened to the resort,” Katya said to the camera. “I sold it to my friend Karl and his partners at FP Ruview Enterprise, god bless those hoes. Then I took the cash, buried it into a hole, and then I fucked it.”

“And then it grew into a money tree. Fuck you dad, money does grow on trees,” Trixie chimed in. Turning to her girlfriend, she said, “Would you make a good financial adviser?”

“I would!”

“Great cause I can’t wait to be stranded in the middle of Germany with you with no money.”

It was the first time Katya wheezed and flailed on Trixie’s vlog while batting at her with the toy hands. Later on, Trixie read with gratification that her viewers ate their banter up and wanted more.

“Ooh ooh! We can look for a strip club in Germany and wiggle there for extra cash,” Katya exclaimed. She got up from her seat and began running her hands up and down her torso and hips in the least sexiest way possible. Trixie watched with open amusement, wondering with utter delight what she had gotten herself and her vlog into. For a few seconds, she played out a daydream; twisting around to the plane seat next to hers and seeing Katya’s wild and excited grin, looking forward to their trip together. It felt like she was back at Elyu’s beach again falling in love with her for the first time. This is what it felt like to be whole again.

“So, we’ll see you guys until our next video. Until then, I’m the adhesive allergy drag queens get on their balls for wearing too much duct tape, Trixie Mattel!”

“And I’m the dumpster bookshelf you’re dragging to your apartment at midnight when this stranger helps out and you pay him in wigs and a quick fuck, Katya!”

———

“Where are we going to next, by the way?” Katya asked after they turned off the camera. Trixie blinked. After Katya moved in with her, Trixie had to take a step back and wonder how did she get it right this time. There was a person in her space that she could always expect to see at the end of the day that could make everything better. When Trixie thought about home, she had never imagined it would be the sound of a hairdryer at 9 in the morning, or the faint smell of cigarettes in the late afternoon. And when Trixie said she wanted to be able to relate to love songs again, she didn’t exactly think that she herself would be blasting Taylor fucking Swift and singing “She is the best thing that has ever been MIIIIIINE” while cleaning their bathroom. She knew Katya hated Ms. Swift, but she also knew she was probably secretly smiling over the fresh clothes she was folding.

The concept of love is simple, yet so terribly easy to complicate. So it gave Trixie great pleasure to reply in all its uncomplicated glory, “Let’s stay home for a while.”

#vonchoke #trixya #travel vlogger au #cisgirl au #lesbian au #beach au #fluff #flirting #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #rpdr fanfiction #pink sandcastles

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shmisolo · 6 years ago

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Sooooo I sent you an ask telling you how much I loved your story Shadow Boxes and then I received a notification that said you responded and I only saw the first few words (pretty sure you were going to ask if it was rude that you loved making me cry 😂) but I guess this damn shithole we call tumblr ATE IT! Because when I clicked on the notification it took me nowhere and I can’t find it. I’m sad and I just wanted to let you know because it’s bothered me all day lol

oh dear! i replied privately so if you’re accessing on mobile that might be why. check your inbox over there!

#lifeboldlyblows

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mariamuses · 7 years ago

Text

Tumblr Friends

Chapter 2 ~ Usernames

My next few days could only be described with one word: spree reading.

Wait. That’s two words. Or is it hyphened? Whatever, you get what I’m trying to say.

I breathed and ate books. And pizza. And chocolate.

My days consisted on getting up, goin to my classes, coming back, eating and reading. I read everywhere. On the couch, on my bed, on the toilet, on the bathtub... My sisters put up with it because they knew what I was going through, and because they were too busy with their respective boyfriends to say anything.

You might be asking yourselves: why doesn’t she study?

Well, I’ll tell you. The day I caught Tamlin smooching Ianthe was actually the first day back from summer, so that meant that the professors hadn’t had enough time to dream about us and the way they wanted to torture us with projects and exams.

Another question that may be popping up in your head is: What is she reading?

Well, I’ll tell you. Only the best freaking sagas from the best freaking author in the world: Brandon Sanderson. I’ve already read the Mistborn Trilogy, but it is like my comfort food in books, so I reread it. And then I started The Way of Kings, the first installment of the Stormlight Archive saga, and then the second and third one, which just came out. Those will be Words of Radiance and Oathbringer.

I saw them a while ago in the book shop and just had to buy them, but Tamlin always said that reading was boring, so I never started them.

And now I’m starting them just to spite him. Even though he won’t see me. Or talk to me. Crap, I really didn’t think this through.

That’s actually not the only reason. As one of my other favorite author says: “It was books that made me feel that perhaps I was not completely alone. They could be honest with me, and I with them.”

And I desperately needed not to feel alone right now. So, I binge-read all of them (they’re like a thousand pages each) and when I was finished, I swear I could breathe a little better and life felt a little brighter.

As I read the last page of Oathbringer and closed the book, all I could think about was that it couldn’t be over.

It’s not over yet silly. There’s going to be seven more books.

You get me, it can’t be over right now. I know the story continues, but I NEED more NOW.

Go to the internet.

I should, shouldn’t I? I’ve heard about something called...Tumble? Timblr?

Tumblr.

Oh, yeah right. My best friend, Mor, who’s into super weird stuff, like History-wise weird stuff, told me about it, and also said that there’s this thing called fanfiction, where people who read a book keep writing (non-cannon, but still) about it. She says that, sometimes, the fic is actually better than the book coming after it, and that the authors put in tons of work so their followers can get a weekly update, and maybe even more. Currently, she’s reading a fic about Aristotle and his secret lover Hades, god of the Underworld. Like I said, weird.

I opened my laptop and turned it on, getting on my browser and searching ‘Tumblr’. Then I clicked on ‘get started’ and typed my email and password in. The username was the tricky part, because so many of the were already taken. At last, I decided to go with fey-oathbringer, thinking that if I wanted to meet people of my same fandom, my user had to be somewhat related.

Then I got down to bussiness.

To defeat, the huns.

Ups, there we go with the puns.

No, the huns.

No, seriously. I typed ‘stormlight archive’ in and... search!

After hours looking through and reading everything I could find about Brandon Sanderson on Tumblr, I had two conclusions. The first one was that people really put a lot of time and effort into the fics. The second was less of a conclussion and more a person, more especifically, stormblessed-radiant.

He was the epitome of all things good. Not only was he a hell of a writer, he was also a very nice person. I think so, at least. I mean, you can totally tell by his answered asks, no?

He could be faking it... He could be a she.

No! He’s good. And a boy. And adorable. And possibly very cute...

Okay, this got out of hand. Focus Feyre.

So I decided to follow him (definitely a him) and turned on the notifications so every time he posted something, I could be up to speed.

Now I just had to wait.

On Saturday, I woke up, had breakfast and pulled out my phone, only to see that stormblessed-radiant had uploaded a chapter of his latest fic, Alethkar Remembers.

Inmediately I propped up my computer and started reading it. I loved everything about it: the way he wrote the characters and their development, how he wasn’t afraid of putting some romance into it, how loyal it was to the books... It was so fine that it inspired me.

So, when I finished, I decided I had to draw some fanart of the main characters, maybe even throwing in one of the few he made up, just to see if I could do it.

Motivated, I got to work.

Ten hours later, I had my “finished” product.

There were three pieces of art, depicting Kaladin (with Syl on his shoulder), Adolin and Shallan and finally, Aadya (stormblessed-radiant’s incredible creation).

They were only linearts, because I knew myself enough to be certain that if I started coloring it, I would never finish.

With the last of the retouches done, I uploaded the pictures with a little text that said that I was new to the fandom and that Aadya was a non-cannon character taken from stormblessed-radiant’s fics. I also added a few tags and... there.

Now all I could think about the reaction the art was going to have.

I stayed glued to the screen of my computer until everything went black.

***

Here’s the next chapter!! I hope you all are enyoying it and ready for more.

Also, thank you so much for reading. I'll try to upload, at least, once a week. Scout's promise.

Read it on AO3

I’m tagging these lovely people @songbirdsbooks @kaliejane26 @personpersonper @turtlesnook @highladyfxyre who are willing to read my rants.

#my work #my fic #feyre #mor #tumblr #rhysand #azriel #cassian #nesta #elain #brandon sanderson

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fulloflesbeans · 7 years ago

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Hazel Eyes & Cake Pops [Ch. 11]

Read on Ao3 here

All three of us desperately needed rest, but instead, we were awake watching Lifetime movies and eating leftover bacon. We all gathered close to the TV, sitting on the floor with the plate in the middle of us. None of us changed out of our clothes and all of us haven't left from our spots, even during commercials.

Truly, I was waiting for Kate's text. I wondered if it was common for her to do this or if it was just a one-time thing. I still felt bad for missing it when I was awake at the time.

The movie was about catfishing online and cheating, but Rachel has kept her mouth shut on the huge plot twist it had. It surely captured my attention, so my eyes were glued to the screen. I ate about five or six strips already.

"I should really catch some z's." Chloe finally got up when another commercial started. Neither me nor Rachel tried to stop her, because she didn't get to sleep at all. It was deserved, so we left her alone.

"Goodnight." She kissed the top of Rachel's head and then petted my mine. She left into the bedroom, loudly shutting the door.

It was quiet for a minute before I spoke.

"Should I be worried when someone texts me in the middle of the night?"

Rachel turned to look at me, one eyebrow lifted in confusion, "I would be. Why?"

"Kate text me yesterday night and I totally missed it."

"But you were reading."

"I was, but I didn't check my phone at all."

She let out a sigh, tucking her hair behind her ear, "I can wait with you. Did you ask her earlier why?"

"I didn't ask it directly. I just said sorry and then she said it wasn't important."

"She's not very good at lying. What time did she send it?"

"It was at one."

"Something was definitely happening at that time. I don't expect her doing that to be consistent, so don't just wait for one o'clock. If she does, just ask what's wrong right away."

"Alright, and thanks, for waiting with me."

"No problem."

And we did just that. We finished the movie, which was called talhotblond and it had an insane plot twist, and it finally was one AM. I checked my phone expecting something, yet there was nothing. I had some notifications from Tumblr, but that was it.

"How long should we wait?" I asked, moving the now-empty plate aside.

"I say another hour, but if you want to pull another all-nighter, you're open to do so." She shrugged her shoulders. I knew she wouldn't want to do that with me, luckily, she didn't have any dark circles like Chloe did.

"I could," I leaned back on my hands, outstretching my legs, "I just hope you guys don't get up to check on me again."

"I won't, but if Chloe does, I'll drag her back." She balled her hands into fists and acted out pulling on Chloe's arm.

We were both chuckling after, but then I remembered Chloe just walking into the room.

"I think Chloe just went to bed. She didn't get into pajamas or anything." I turned to look at the bedroom door, which was now starting to get covered in pictures too.

"I think so too, but she's hella bitchy when you wake her up. I'll just leave her alone."

Rachel pulled her legs close and hugged them, resting her cheek on her knees. She looked ready to sleep too.

"You could go sleep; you don't have to wait here." I insisted.

She lets out a long yawn, audibly moaning at the end, "At least turn off the light, okay?"

"Will do," I nodded, "Now go sleep with Chloe."

Rachel stood up and dragged her feet along the floor, walking into the bathroom first. I was feeling a little lazy, but I mustered enough energy to limp to the couch. I fell and sunk right into it. As I surfed through my phone, I saw bright blue hair walk right by in my peripherals.

"Chloe, you only slept for an hour." I lifted my head up at her. She sat down right by me on the floor, still in her all-black work outfit and even darker circles under her eyes.

"There was some shit that wouldn't stop bothering me. I barely slept at all."

"What's wrong?"

"I know I drank a lot before Rachel came. Sometimes, I hang out with some buddies from work, meet them in front of our apartment and we all walk to this little get-together and drink. Or I just get some from work and take it home and drink them here. Now, I always feel like complete shit the next day, but it's different from a hangover. Do I do something weird when I'm hella drunk?"

Chloe was clearly upset about it. There was redness and puffiness around her eyes.

"What made you think about it?"

"I've been sober and, kinda like you with that dickhead, it's bothering me."

Only things like "um" or "I..." could only come out. The tense atmosphere was interrupted by the bathroom door opening. Rachel saw Chloe right away and folded her arms.

"Chloe Price." She said.

"Rachel Amber?" Chloe replied.

"Come back to bed, what are you doing up?"

"Just checking up on her." Chloe messed with my hair again.

She stood up again and went back to the room. Rachel followed, closing the door gently. I could only smirk at them.

I checked my phone. Hello?

Two o'clock hit and Kate sent the same haunting greeting. I replied back, are you ok?

I watched the three dots blink as she typed back immediately.

I'm fine. Just some trouble with sleeping.

She did say she only slept four to five hours. She said it was normal too.

School is stressing you out? It was the only reason I could think of.

School is fine. I'm always like this.

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. Eventually, I clicked on the person icon and called her instead. There wasn't a lot you could do with text, so maybe she would like to talk about it like this.

"Hello?" She answered after a few rings.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing really, I was sleeping, but I woke up again." She sounded drained.

"Does this happen a lot?"

"I never really wake up in the middle of the night. I'm usually just up and then want to talk to someone."

"You text your friends?"

"I usually do."

"Do you live alone or roommates?"

"I have one roommate. She used to never talk to me, but we're getting along now. I don't want to bother her so late; she talks about beauty sleep a lot."

"So, you text your friends and then me?"

"Yesterday and today, I only text you." Her voice became lower and lower as the sentence went on.

I cleared my throat, putting my shock aside, "Is there something wrong?"

Why was she coming to only me? Did she trust me more than her own friends? I could think of either she was just testing if I was reliable or not, or her friends were actually out somewhere.

"No, there's nothing wrong. It's been like this for me since high school."

I stayed silent. She must be miserable. I could hear it in this call and earlier today I saw it. She couldn't be honest with me just yet, I was still in between acquaintance and friend, or at least, that's where she was for me.

"Do you have class tomorrow?" I finally asked.

"In the evening, why?"

"Let's meet up. I mean, if you want, we could hang out some time in the afternoon."

She was quiet, leaving me with the sound of my TV still on, but responded, "That sounds nice."

"Where do you want to meet?"

"I go at school at noon, but if you want to go somewhere else we could."

"No, that sounds good. Promise me, when I hang up, you'll get some shuteye."

She finally giggled, "I will. Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight, Kate."

I hung up and tossed my phone aside. I pressed my face into my hands, sighing deeply. I don't know why I was so stressed out; I felt it in my fingertips. I just hope that she wasn't hiding anything serious.

The next day, all three of us woke up around ten. All of us were back to normal, eating leftovers in our fridge and talking about any weird dreams any of us may have. Sometime in between, Chloe changed into her pajamas. All of us were eating some of the Veggie Grill sandwiches they got for me, which I did not forget about whatsoever. At the moment, Rachel was trying to remember her dream.

"All I remember was going to a casino with some guy." Rachel shut her eyes, like she was trying to envision it.

Chloe's eyes widened and then switch to anger, "I'm gonna kill him."

"Please do it," Rachel opened her eyes again and grabbed Chloe's balled up hands, "I don't care that it's not real."

I could only laugh at those two as I finished my plate. Rachel grabbed all of our empty plates and went into the kitchen.

"You're jealous of some dude Rachel saw in a dream?" I had to ask.

"You wouldn't be?"

I thought about it and, to be honest, nothing happened in her dream, so I wouldn't be. Chloe chuckled at herself; she knew it was stupid.

I spoke after drinking about three gulps of water, "Oh, Chloe, I was talking to Kate last night and I said I was going to meet her at school."

"Yeah, I can take you. When do we leave?"

"I said to meet her at twelve, so around there."

"She messaged you again?" Rachel asked from the kitchen, drying her hands after placing the plates in the dish rack.

"Yeah, she said she couldn't sleep. I wanted to see her today to see if she was okay."

"Even I'm getting a little worried."

"I hope she tells me something," I stood up, "Am I overthinking this?"

"No, Max, you're fine," Rachel came up to me and placed her hands on my face, "You're worried, not overthinking."

Rachel really was like acting like a mom nowadays, especially yesterday.

"Alright," I nodded, "I'll let you know what she tells me."

In an hour, all of us showered and got into outfits for the heat—hotter than usual. I put my hair up again, even though my undercut was pretty much gone. Chloe's natural hair color was starting to show again too. All of us somehow ended up wearing a black-and-red flannel, then we all laughed and I took my camera out to remember it. Chloe took it for me because I was too short to get all of us. Instead of changing, we just left. On the way out, we walked side-by-side from our apartment to Chloe's car. Before we got in, Chloe hit my shoulder to get my attention.

"Hey Max Payne, I'm going to cut my hair again tonight, you want yours?"

"Why not, I grew attached to it." I smiled. I have to say, it gave me hella confidence.

"I'm telling you, you're on your way to tats and piercings."

"Catch me on a good day and I just might." Maybe not the piercings, though.

Throughout the drive, I decided to take pictures of Chloe and Rachel from my seat when they were rocking out or just doing things like holding hands. They acknowledged the sound of my camera going off with saying "what the hell" but went back to what they were doing.

We stopped a few blocks away into an available parking spot. At the school, Kate was sitting on the curb, distracted and drawing something in her book.

"Should I honk?" Chloe had her hand ready on the horn.

"Chloe," Rachel smacked her in the arm, "Don't be an ass."

I got out of the car and skulked my way over to her through the bike lane. I leaned over to see what she was drawing, but my shadow scared her and quickly held the book to her chest.

"Oh, Max, it's you." She sighed in relief, but kept the book to her chest. She looked a lot happier than yesterday. Right when I was going to say something, Chloe honked her horn. I twisted around and saw that the window was rolled down. She was in the street and causing build-up behind her.

"Text me later!" Chloe yelled. She and Rachel were waving their hands goodbye as she drove off. I huffed out my nose and shook my head.

I sat next to Kate, a few inches away, "Are you drawing the buildings?" I wouldn’t have been so brave to sit in it, but I convinced myself that we were safe.

I took my bag off and placed it behind me.

"Yes," she kept it against her chest, "I always draw them."

She answered very quickly and I found it weird that she was secretive about it.

"You're here early." Kate slammed her book shut and rested it on her lap. I didn't see a hint of the page.

"Oh, really?" I tilted my head. I didn't even check the time when I left.

"You're an hour and a half early, really." Kate checked her watch.

"Oh shit, I didn't even know."

"Watch your mouth, Max."

"What?"

"Don't say so many swear words."

I felt my mouth twitch and I held in my laugh. Kate hit me on the arm and I wanted to burst out even more at the mad face she was making.

"Max, I'm serious!" Kate whined.

"S-sorry," I said through a snort, "It's not funny! It's not!"

I took deep breaths in and out, but I still wanted to.

"Do you just stay under the shade before class?" I cleared my throat. Our school building was casting a shadow over us from the sun and it was cooling, because we were both wearing long-sleeved shirts.

"I thought you would be sick of whispering in the library."

I pulled my knees to my chest, "I was okay with it, but this is better."

Kate was smiling wide; it was almost like she was glowing. The question was on my mind, but now wasn't a good time. I was fixed on her, making me grin from ear to ear.

"Do you like braids or buns more?" I asked randomly. She had two braids today, which were done nicely, unlike her single messy one she had before.

"I had my hair in a bun today," Kate started to twirl her right braid with her finger, "and then my roommate saw me and did this."

"She changes it for you?"

"She did today. The other times were done by me."

"She seems nice." I started to subtly rock back and forth.

"She's rather mean, to be honest. At first anyway, but she's working on it."

"She goes here?"

"Yeah, I stay at the on-campus apartments," Kate nodded and pointed off to the right, "She's in the same major as you."

"Oh, maybe I'll meet her eventually."

"I hope she won't be too scary."

Sitting this close, I could smell a very small hint of vanilla on her. I stopped rocking and felt myself lean in. Luckily, she wasn't looking so I could stop myself from getting too close.

"I guess I should ask now," I rubbed the back of my neck, "Do you always text someone at night?"

She looked at me, the brightness and shine in her eyes were gone, "No, I try not, but I end up doing it anyway."

"Is there any real reason why?"

"It helps me sleep. Since ninth grade, I haven't slept enough. But, please don't worry about me, I'm fine." She gave me a tiny side smile.

"Why did you only text me?"

"My friends have been working on a film project, so I can't really bother them. I hope you're not annoyed. I can stop."

"It doesn't bother me, I just want you to rest good. Bother me all you want, I'll be up, I promise."

"You swear?" She held her pinky finger out.

I hook mine around hers, "Yep, I promise."

We let go right away. I felt actual electricity run through every nerve in my body; I wonder if she felt it too. It was quiet between us, watching cars pass and students run by, it was insanely comfortable.

"So, you live with Rachel and...?"

Kate moved her book to in between us, setting it on its spine.

"My friend, Chloe, I've known her forever."

"Are they together?" Kate asked directly. I waited a moment and saw her cheeks become very red.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"My roommate tells me about celebrity news and saw everything about Rachel. She still doesn't believe that I've met her."

I chuckled, "They are everywhere, aren't they?"

Her question, her red cheeks, her avoiding eyes, and her explanation didn't add up, but I let everything slide.

"Pretty much, are they going to come out about it or not?"

"I haven't talked to them about it recently, so I'm not sure."

The redness finally went down and she was looking at me again.

I continued to speak, feeling my heart sink a bit, "Actually, Rachel told me you were religious. You're not asking because...?"

"Oh, no! I'm completely accepting of gay people." She waved her hands. I squinted my eyes, trying to read her body language again. She was a little too flustered, even though the question was about her being gay.

"I'm Christian, but not radical." She shook her head. I couldn't just ask if she was gay, not even indirectly.

"Huh, I never got into a religion."

"Your parents weren't?"

"I just never went to a church or looked into it. Don't worry though, I won't be all like hardcore "ew" or anything. I respect your beliefs."

"I won't force it on you either. I never did that before."

Shit, I really couldn't tell if she was gay or she was just being really nice. I was still hopeful nonetheless; Rachel will kill me if I showed even a little bit of giving up.

"Oh, I still need to finish your book!" I reached into my bag and grabbed the book again.

"Are you going to read right now?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to read it out? It's the last chapter." I flipped it open.

She twirled with her braid again, "Sure."

I smiled and cleared my throat. For the next thirty minutes, Kate listened to me read slow and stumble on words. It was an emotional chapter and my voice was trembling. I could see Kate in the corner of my eye, now she was the one holding in laughter. I finished reading the last sentence, closing it and then groaning out my emotions.

"Are you okay, Max?" She rubbed my back.

"This is a beautiful book, Kate." I handed it back to her, sniffling.

"I'm glad you liked it. Would you like another one?" She took it from me and started to put it into her bag.

"I'm not ready."

She giggled, "It won't be a sad one next time."

I rubbed one eye and stared down at the concrete. I looked over at her; she had bright pink cheeks and a tender expression on her face. My heart was about ready to explode. She didn't have redness or puffiness around her eyes anymore. In natural light, hazel eyes turned into a shiny honey, bashful and glinting.

"You're pretty..." I accidentally muttered.

"Thank you," she placed her hand on her cheek, "Gosh, you're making me blush."

I rapidly blinked and wiped my hands on my pants, "T-that's for complimenting me before."

"Oh, right, I did." She took her phone out. I did the same thing.

"My friends need me right now in the green screen room." Kate put her phone away and then grabbed her sketchbook again.

"Oh, for what?" I put my phone into my lap.

"They need some help setting some things up," She stood up, "Sorry to cut this short."

I did the same, "Don't be, it's okay."

I was holding my camera in my hand, letting my question bounce around in my mind.

It was starting to get quiet again, so I let the question out, "Hey, can I get a picture of you? I wasn't sure if you were okay with me taking random ones."

"Oh no, it's fine! You want me to pose or are we taking one together?"

"Maybe just a pose first. Like, when I first came, you were sitting on the curb with your book."

Kate did so, getting back into the same position she was, opening her book to blank pages, and taking out her pencil to draw random circles. Checking if it was safe, I stepped back and angled myself to get a correct composition. There was something perfect about it: her in the center, her peaches and cream skin tone, her all black outfit, clearly in her own world, the gray building and bright blue and clear sky in the background, and the bright red “no parking” curb contrasting everything else. I took the shot and let the Polaroid film come out.

"You'll just need one?" Kate closed her book again.

I grabbed the film and fan it to develop.

"That's all I need." That was my lame attempt at flirting, even I didn't know what that meant.

"I have to go, though, show me that later?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Alright, bye Max." She jogged into the building.

I took my phone out and text Chloe. I had this overwhelming feeling of satisfaction; I couldn't get the stupid smile on my face.

Chloe and Rachel came after five minutes and drove back home, loud rock music playing the whole ride. Back home, Chloe automatically went to the bathroom to get the hair clipper.

"How was it, Max?" Rachel asked, slinging her arm around my shoulders.

"It was nice. We talked about a lot of things and got a picture of her." I felt my cheeks burn.

"Oh, that's sweet! You guys are cute together, holy shit."

"Maxnesium," Chloe stood at the bathroom doorway, "You first."

Rachel put her arm down, "Tell me all about it later."

#life is strange #max caulfield #kate marsh #marshfield #my fanfiction

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