#i would be like my jacket on a sunny day- UNDONE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lauralifeleaf · 2 years ago

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Another Problem: Chapter 16

I wanted to try something different in this chapter, and I might stick with it from now on. I also wanted to thank you for reading my disaster of a book. I am hoping that I can eventually get to the main event of the story, but until then, enjoy the filler chapters and such. ❤️ Laura

~3rd Person POV~

"Well, that could have gone better," mumbled Montgomery as he walked out of one of the private party rooms. The tip of his tail flicked irritatingly as he attempted to get frosting out of his hair, sunglasses, and leather jacket. He loved kids, but sometimes he wanted to punt them across the room. Especially if they were spoiled brats, which so happened to be the birthday kid.

Monty grumbled as he walked and attempted to clean his hair of now-dried vanilla frosting, glaring and snarling at staff who snickered at his state. He was unsure if he should just head back to his greenroom or see if he could get Sun to help him. He decided on the latter, changing his course towards the entrance of the daycare.

He could have asked Ivan to help him, but he already had enough embarrassment for one day. Especially after Violet practically manhandled him earlier this morning. He still couldn't get over the look she gave him. Who knew she could be scary, even if she had no control, but didn't think it would be that terrifying?

Arriving at the entrance of the daycare, he opened the door with ease, making sure his tail didn't get hit when it closed behind him. It was surprisingly quiet, but that was probably due to it being nap time. He honestly wouldn't mind sleeping if he wasn't on the clock. Lucky bastards.

It didn't take long to hear the familiar bells come rushing over. "Why hello, hello! What brings you to the daycare today, my scaled friend?" asked Sunny with a smile on his face. He had a frilly pastel yellow apron with stickers and glitter glue decorated on it. The apron was over his jester outfit, and his sun headband was replaced with a chef's hat. "Got somethin' to deal with dried frostin', bud? Can't get the shit out of my hair, and I rather not have to trash this jacket."

"First of all, mind your language in the daycare!" Sun scolded him, his hands on his hips. Monty rolled his eyes as he continued, "Second, I am more than happy to help. Just be quiet when we pass Naptime Palace. We started naptime a couple of minutes ago, and Violet and the children are asleep." Sun swore he saw the tip of his friend's tail wag at the mention of the elf. "Wait, why's she nappin'? Ain't she supposed to be helpin' ya?" asked the gator as he followed his friend.

Sunny frowned as he came to a halt. He turned around to face him as he fidgeted with the collar of his sleeves."I-it's not my place to say why b-but..." "Sunny?" a quiet voice interrupted the jester, making them both look at the sound of the voice. There stood the elf herself, hair a mess and undone, rubbing her eyes while Chip stood on her shoulder. Her button-up shirt was slightly off her shoulder, which exposed her musical heart marking. "Starlight, you should be resting," Sun scolded with a frown as he walked over to her.

Monty watched in confusion and slight jealousy as he picked her up like a child and held her as she rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. Chip had opted to go explore elsewhere as he scurried towards the entrance. "I know, but you know that I'll end up sleeping til midnight if I do. So, I decided to rest while I recharge, then come help you with whatever you need," she explain, yawning towards the end.

Violet was still powering up her systems, so she was a bit loopy and unaware of her surroundings, which could end up with her getting hurt or breaking something. Sunny sighed as he turned to Monty and motioned him to follow, keeping Violet in her arms. "Is this normal for ya, bud? Last time I checked, ya both weren't on good terms," Monty asked, holding back a territorial growl when he saw her begin playing with the fluff of his collar with a derpy smile.

Sun shrugged, "We made up before her lockdown, and she likes to be held sometimes. Helps calm her nerves knowing that she's not alone." "Especially after a bully session," she stated nonchalantly, making Monty hold back a snarl that could wake the children nearby. Sun halted as he reached for the hidden door leading to his room, placing Violet down and grabbing her face to look for injuries. "Oh, my stars! Did they hurt you? Who are they? Do I need to have Mr. Mark involved?" Sun spouted questions as Violet processed what she said.

Once it clicked, her eyes went wide, and her ears drooped as she fidgeted with her hands. "I was just joking, Sunny. I just meant I encountered some rude girls. Wait! That's not what I meant... I-I'm going to go help Mia," she stuttered before running toward the desk, leaving the two boys alone to process what just happened.

Monty clenched his fists as his tail thumped angrily. Something had happened between when she left and now, seeing as she didn't even acknowledge him. Though, she probably just didn't realize he was there, but that wasn't his main concern at the moment.

He had heard rumors about some of the staff treating her like a tool more than a sentient, living being. It didn't help that some of them were his fans and really detest that he hadn't known it was more than just rumors. While he didn't mind a bit of squabbling for his attention, putting others down or so forth gave him a bad taste.

"Holy shit, how much stuff is she hiding from us?" Monty mumbled, trying to hold back the anger that was bubbling inside him. "Oh dear, she does it with you as well?" Sun turned to see Penny walking up to them. "O-oh! Good afternoon, Ms. Penny! I didn't notice you come in." Penny chuckled at the jester and patted his arm, "You're fine, Sunman. Just came by once I saw this guy walking in looking like Frosty the Snowman."

Monty growled at her while his tail thumped against the padded flooring in irritation. "He came by and asked me for help!" Sun explained, much to Monty's annoyance. He knew that he wouldn't be hearing the end of it. "Oh. Since when does he ask for help? Last I check, he just goes up to people a-"

Monty growled a bit louder, making her stop with a smirk. "Sorry big guy, but I think you need to work on your manners. Especially after what happened during lunch." Sun tilted his head in confusion as he looked at the pair, "What happened at lunch?" "Ain't any of yer business, Sun. Now, can we-" "He manhandled Violet into a closet for half of her break," Penny stated as Sun's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Ah swear to god, Pen," Monty earned before he saw the smirk grow, his accent more apparent due to his frustration. "Mr. Gator here decided that my help wasn't to his satisfaction and practically forced Violet to help him with his tail. It was an easy fix, according to her, that was fixed within a few seconds. I don't know why they were in there longer than that, and Violet wouldn't tell me otherwise." Sun was quiet as he looked at his friend for an answer. "To be honest, ah needed to cool my systems before ah left. We just sat an' talked fer a bit. Had to help calm her nerves down after scarin' her a bit."

"You did what?!" Sun yelled, gripping his hat in disbelief. "Sun! Why the hell are you screaming this time?!" asked Moon as he approached the group. He looked at Monty with an amused smirk, "You got a little something in your hair." Monty smacked his tail against his leg in retaliation, earning a snicker from the male. Moon was then grabbed by his brother. "Our dear friend here manhandled Violet into a closet during lunch," Sun explained, shaking his brother. "Okay, so?" Moon stated, uninterested. "He scared her and pushed her to the wall."

Moon's head snapped to his friend, an angry glare apparent on his face, "You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, lizard." Monty groaned as he removed his shades, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Fine! I'll tell ya inside. Only 'cause I ain't in the mood to fight ya." Monty's tail thumped against the group at the inconvenience as he and the others entered the hidden room.

Meanwhile, Violet had just finished helping Mia with the snacks for when the children when would wake up. Mia was doing her hair while she was trying to distract herself from the tightness in her chest, but was failing miserably. "You okay? You're shaking a bit." "I-I'm okay," she quietly replied, digging her nails into her palm.

Mia noticed the behavior and stopped and grabbed her hands, "What's on your mind?" Violet struggled to keep her eyes on her friend, breathing steadily. "Hey, hey. Focus on me." "I am; I just can't maintain eye contact sometimes," Violet explained, relaxing a bit. "Oh, sorry. That's good to know. I thought you might be having an anxiety attack." Violet shook her head as she let go of her hands, "No, just thinking about something." Mia hummed in acknowledgment as she began braiding her hair.

The silence afterward slowly was suffocating her, making her dig her nails into her leg. The small chittering of Chip grounded her as he came over and sat in her lap, making her scratch his head. "Can I ask you a question?" "Hit me." Violet took a deep breath as she subconsciously began petting Chip, "Have you ever been in a position where people hate you, and you don't know why? Even after asking them if you did something wrong?"

Mia stopped brushing her hair and scoffed, "What rumor is spreading around about me this time?" Violet tensed and turned around, "S-sorry, that's not what I-I meant. This... I just need advice. It's for a friend." Her ears drooped slightly, blushing in embarrassment at not being more clear about her question. "O-oh..."

Mia sat there in thought as she resumed playing with Violet's hair. "Well, I can't really say that I have personal experience with this, but I just try to ignore what everyone thinks about me. If they can't give me an answer, then they're just jealous." "Why would they be jealous of me, though?" Violet asked herself mainly. Mia rolled her eyes with a smile, knowing the elf was oblivious to how one of her friends had the hots for her.

Honestly, she was surprised Violet hadn't picked up on the more obvious signs. Even with the limited interactions with the gator, she noticed him eyeing the elf from the distance whenever they were in the same room. Mia swore she saw him blush a bit when she smiled and waved at him one time. That and how often he helped her.

"Maybe they like someone that is interested in you." Violet faked a smile, trying her best not to say what was on her mind. "I would be aware if someone liked me, Mia," she stated as Mia finished braiding her hair. Mia chuckled as she added some flower clips into her hair, "If you say so."

Violet thanked Mia for doing her hair before heading toward the palace to check on them. As she walked, she held Chip in her arms, enjoying the feeling of his soft fur. Chip chittered a bit, asking to be let go, which Violet did without issue before hoping where she left Sun and Monty.

She recalled the last moment she had with Monty with a slight blush, covering her face with a groan. Even though he was in pain and tried to scare her, she didn't mind being trapped between him and a wall. If only it was for a different reason. She should probably stop reading romance novels for a bit before she got ideas.

Her mind drifted to him cuddling, if you could call it that, and chatting. She had begun to noticed he's been a bit more vulnerable and relaxed whenever they were alone. Maybe a bit too comfortable as well. He has stripped his shirt of in front of her more than once when they hung out in his attraction, making a lame excuse before just going back to their conversation while he floated in the water traps.

She shook her head as her ears and face became a deep shade of red, "God, why me." She read similar situations in books, but they were only when the main character and the love interest were dating or something. It's not like she didn't know he had been flirting with her, but she wasn't sure if it was just friendly or if he actually liked her. "You're on the clock. No time to daydream about your problems."

Violet peeked her head into the napping area, making sure none of the kids were up or having a nightmare. Luckily, none of them looked to be in any distress or awake, which made Violet sigh in relief as she left. With nothing to do for the next hour, and no sign of Moon, she sat down on a beanbag that she was using earlier.

She got comfy with one of the blankets and grabbed the book from her bag. Opening it to where she left off, she quietly read while occasionally glancing over at the children around her. It was quiet for a couple of minutes until she felt someone tug on the blanket.

She looked up curiously to see one of the kids with tears in their eyes. She put the book aside and let the small child crawl into her lap. "What's wrong little one?" she asked the small child, who appeared to be no older than 4. The kid looked up and began signing frantically as more tears fell down their face.

She was grateful she had learned a bit of sign language from Sun, otherwise, this would have been tough. "Do you wanna stay with me so you feel safe?" she offered with a gentle smile at the end. The kid nodded frantically before curling under the blankets in her lap. She began to hum a soft melody as she rocked back and forth while rubbing comforting circles in their back.

The child began to relax as they fell back asleep, hugging Violet's waist. A neutral look appeared on her face as she looked at the child. As much as she liked kids, they take a lot of energy out of her. She was already wishing the day would end so she could play a round or two of games with the others before heading to her room for the night.

She might be back from her lockdown, but she really needed to be alone. Her mind was anywhere but in the present at the moment. There was too much to process with the new face and new job. She fought back tears as she felt the familiar feeling in her chest she had been dealing with since her lockdown began.

Right now, she needed to act like nothing was wrong. If she could deal with this for almost a month without suspicion, then she could fake it for another week. Maybe then this dreadful, but familiar feelings would disappear. She can only hope the headaches would also disappear as well.

#fnaf monty #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnafsb oc #fnaf sb au #fnaf oc #montgomery gator x oc #fnaf fanfic

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badly-drawn-doflamingo · 3 years ago

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Picture if you will,

The Strawhats are chilling, it’s super hot, it’s summer, and Sanji needs Chopper.

“CHOPPER, COME HERE!!- C- Oi, Usopp, have you seen Chopper anywhere?” Sanji inquires the fisherman.

��No- actually, I haven’t seen him all day.”

This bothers Sanji, for, normally, Chopper was at the center of all of the action, along side Usopp and Luffy, like a child trying to hang out with the big kids. But, not today. Was he inside?

Before Sanji can even reach the door to the kitchen, the blonde is frozen in his tracks at the odd sound beside him. A pained grunt from Brook, who follows this by clutching his covered chest.

“Brook, are- you ok?” Sanji watches, worry setting in. He’s accompanied now by Nami, Robin and Franky, who’s attention was peeked at the odd display of pain from a being otherwise known for his LACK of it.

“I-I’m fine i- just- m-my chest really hurts-“

Another coughing fit is spurred suddenly once more, the skeleton still desperately grasping his chest. It reminded Sanji of Zeff‘a frequent hacking after a bit too long smoke outside on the deck.

“Brook- why don’t I get Chopper- this doesn’t seem.. normal, especially for you-“

“No really, I’m fine!-“ Brook attempts to reason, standing loosely on shaking legs. “I don’t need to go to such a hassle for such a measly cough!-“

This comment is soon followed by more severe coughing, then, a doubling of his knee joints, leaving the skeleton bent over on the ground. Usopp, already having dropped his fishing pole, rushes to the side of the older man, holding his back like someone would a grandpa.

“Brook, you’re going to see Chopper- Sanji, get him-“

“aHHUGH—“

The gravely scream of Brook’s moaning tone breaks the tone to a much more severe pitch, all heads on the Sunny’s deck turning to face him, some with fear, others with confused concern. Finger bones tightly hold the loose jacket buttons, and cravat, and his skull is twisted into an expression of most likely agony. The screams cut off by his body’s strange reaction; flinging his spine backwards, head towards the sky, along with his torso facing upward, he looks as if he is about to loose his second life. Usopp quickly releases, fearful and in shock, not knowing what to even do, or how to approach the dramatic display.

“Brook!!- just wait I’ll get help!-“ Sanji, hand on the door, calls out to him, attempting any sign of admittedly feverish, reassurance. This action isn’t even able to be completed before the sound of screaming, from both Sanji, and the crew comes forth, in a cacophony of emotions. For, from Brooks jacket, where his hands so tightly gripped, comes another; a hoof, grasping outwards between the fabric, like a monsterous birth of an unknown devil.

Another follows, grabbing at Brook’s hand, which pulls away to hold himself steady on his knees, head still laying across the ground, mouth ajar. Passed out, apparently due to the trauma inflected by the emerging parasite.

“OH MY GOD-“ Usopps screams ring Sanji’s ears, along with the shrill fearful cry of Nami.

His instinct is to run to her, however his legs, as kind as he ever was to them, fail him. They remain rooted in place, his eyes equally frozen on the sight before him.

Brook’s jacket buttons become undone, one of the small hooves doing so, gingerly. After three of the multiple are undone, the undoing stops, seemingly having created enough of an exit for the being to leave its host’s ribs. Brown fur, and a pair of antlers follow, then, a familiar blue nose.

Chopper

He steps out, like a new born infant, spilling into Brook’s broken lap like his own entrails. Tumbling out, he sits in the skeletons lap, looking around while his eyes get adjusted.

“Hey!- Is everyone ok? Sorry Brook!! I forgot to tell you and I was afraid I’d startle you!! I fell asleep in your ribs- cause of the cold air!! It’s too hot for me!! Are you ok :3 ??”

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likeastarstar · 3 years ago

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Invisible String- Jungkook

(A/N: This is my first time writing a soulmate au piece but I really love them and I hope I did it in a non-cheesy way. I really love this one and I want you guys to like it too. Feedback is always appreciated!)

masterlist.

He was either meant to be your soulmate or your demise.

You really couldn't tell which yet, since you didn't even know how you felt about him quite yet. Either way, there was a string connecting the two of you and someone kept tugging on it. Call it fate, call it misfortune.

The first time you met him, you forgot to ask his name. You weren't even supposed to be at that crossroad, but you had woken up freakishly early and felt like taking a walk to that bakery you always meant to visit. It was a bright day, sunny for the first time in a week. The air was cool on your skin and things felt right.

You waited idly for the traffic to die down even slightly so you could cross, a couple other people waiting beside you. There was one man, tall, in the fattest pair of shoes you had ever seen. Seriously, they were gigantic black boots that looked like they could stomp out an entire village. The only reason you noticed him moving before the walk symbol lit up was because they were all you could stare at.

He must've had headphones on, because he didn't notice the car rapidly speeding in his direct path, blaring it's horn loudly. You reacted quicker than him, grabbing the back of his bomber jacket and yanking him backwards with so much desperation he fell back onto you.

"Are you stupid?" You snapped, stumbling backwards. You couldn't quite catch yourself and found yourself falling on your ass, the man who was much larger than you toppling over as well.

You landed with a muffled thud, groaning in pain.

"Are you okay? I-I'm so sorry!" The man gasped, scrambling to get off of you. He stood above you with his hands outstretched towards you, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "I didn't see the car- I was looking at my phone."

You frowned up at him, propping yourself up on your elbows. His eyes were as big as his boots and he had a strangely innocent look to his face that really contrasted the standoffish outfit he has on, but maybe that was the point. He stretched out a hand towards you, offering to help you up.

"You should probably not do that while you're trying to cross the street," You sighed, taking his hand instantly. It was soft, strong. He pulled you up easily, with a speed that surprised you, gripping his arm to steady yourself upright. Ooh- strong bicep.

"It was for work," He grumbled defensively, a hurt look coming over his face before an annoyed one took its place. "Not that you needed to know that. Thank you- for stopping me, but I'm in a bit of a rush."

You stood speechless, sputtering for a response while he turned to walk away. He was moving so fast his hair flopped everywhere in a funny way, hustling across the street.

"Hey!" You called after him, to no use. "You're welcome, I guess! Asshole!"

The next time you met, things were a little different.

You stared at the shelf of porcelain figures, wondering why on Earth your mom would collect these tiny freaks of nature. Why did anyone collect knick knacks anyway- they just collected dust, dust meant sneezing, sneezing meant bacteria, bacteria meant death. Death was bad.

You reached for the least offensive one, trying to avoid touching anything else. Behind you, the door to the store opened and a slight breeze blew in.

"Welcome!" You heard a worker say cheerily, a familiar voice mumbling a response.

You tried to place it, unknowingly swiping your hand a little too far to the left and knocking over at least five of these stupid little figurines. You gasped, watching them fall to the floor and shattering- directly next to a pair of the largest black boots you had ever seen.

"Shit."

You traced the boots upwards- black boots, black sweatpants, black bomber. Same guy, same outfit. Did this guy have a uniform or something?

"Shit," You nodded, parroting what he just said.

A spark of recognition flashed his face, mouth falling open slightly- he had a mole beneath his bottom lip. Cute.

"You break it, you buy it!" a worker called out, not so cheerily.

Shit.

You groaned, knowing you definitely could not afford this. How were you going to pay for all of these stupid figurines? Why were they so goddamn expensive in the first place? You crouched down to pick up the pieces, boot boy mirroring you.

"I can pay," He said quietly, helping you as a staff worker came over to the pair of you with a broom and a dustpan. "And if you think they're stupid, why were you even looking at them?"

You stared up at him in confusion- had you said all of that aloud?

"My mom likes them, it's her birthday." You mumbled, "Not that you needed to know that. You don't need to pay, I'll figure something out."

"Consider it payback for the last time," He shrugged, "Pick out an unbroken one for your mom and pay for that at least- I'll get the broken ones."

You promised to pay him back and meant it- exchanging numbers and offering to meet up a week later. He told you a bank transfer would be enough but you insisted on buying him coffee at least- if not to even the playing field then to see if he wore the boots again. Except that he gave you the wrong number, an elderly woman picking up when you tried calling later that day.

The next time you ran into the boy, who's name you found out was Jungkook, was three weeks later.

"Can you at least try to act like you're having fun?"

"No," You laughed, staring at ceiling.

This club was too crowded, too hot, too...much. Your friend had dragged you out and so there you were- stuck until she wanted to go home. Sure, you could've abandoned her, but you were a good friend and good friends stayed until the entire group wanted to go home.

Except that she ditched you the second she found a guy to go home with. Somehow, you weren't surprised.

Now it was down to you and this guy who followed you on your way out of the club, standing too close to you.

"I said I wasn't interested," You repeated, feeling deeply annoyed. "You have two seconds before I beat the shit out of you and I don't mean that as a joke. I literally will kill you."

"Sounds kinky," He slurred, grinning in a way you didn't appreciate.

You sighed and whirled around, ready to stick by your word until a familiar face caught your eye.

"Jungkook," You gasped, his eyes wide and trained on you. He raised his eyebrows and looked at the man next to you, his eyes narrowing slightly before flickering back to you.

"Hey, asshole," He frowned. Wow, he gave you a nickname. "You never called me. What happened to paying me back?"

"Me, asshole? You, asshole. You gave me the wrong number," You defended, now completely ignoring the man pressing himself into your side.

He seemed to be with friends, nudging one before waving goodbye and stepping closer to you. God- he was hot. He wasn't wearing the boots for once, instead he had a sleek pair of sneakers on with fitted black jeans and a button down shirt, enough buttons undone for you to ogle openly at his chest. The bomber jacket was gone, replaced by a leather jacket and his fluffy hair was sleeked back neatly.

"Do you know this guy?" The man from before whined, shoving himself half onto you.

You grunted and slammed him backwards, "You're still here?" You snapped, throwing him the meanest look you could muster.

"Your friend said you were interested!" He exclaimed, just as you felt Jungkook step closer behind you, his chest touching your back lightly.

"She's obviously not," He snapped, placing a light hand on your shoulder.

No, you weren't interested in that guy, but you were interested in Jungkook.

TO BE CONTINUED...

PART TWO

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts fic #jungkook fluff #bts drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook fic #jungkook oneshot #soulmate au #soulmate!bts #soulmate!jungkook #bts imagines #jungkook x y/n #bts one shot

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sohin-ace · 4 years ago

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※ A walk with the Jojos

Inspired by a 'A walk with BTS' meme scenario I found somewhere.

Gender neutral and Aromantics friendly :)

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Jotaro: Puts his coat over your shoulders when it gets cold.

A gust of cold wind flew past you and Jotaro as you both strolled down the streets of his hometown peacefully. A sharp shudder coursed through you, goosebumps almost painful on your sensitive skin.

Oh how you wished you brought a jacket or at least your school uniform cardigan with you. The early days of spring had started sunny and trustworthy, but of course, the temperature had to drop on you on that very special day.

Your incessant rubbing of your arms and duck of your head didn't go unnoticed by Jotaro next to you. He was aware of the cold and could see from the corner of his eyes how flushed your fingers were and how you winced with every blow of the unforviging wind.

The boy didn't think twice and sighed, proceeding to shake his long gakuran off of his broad shoulders.

You didn't even notice he was disrobing until you felt heavy and warm fabric suddenly weight down on your shoulders, enveloping you, the loud clanking of chains accompanying the movement.

You looked up at the tall male, pleasantly surprised yet also confused, and he only grumbled in response, looking straight forward.

"Yare yare daze... You could have just asked you know."

You never dared. You couldn't dare. After all, it was your problem that you forgot your jacket at home. It surely wasn't Jotaro's job to fix your mistakes, you thought. You wouldn't bother him for such a trivial matter, no matter how close you were. Of course, Jotaro did not share that mindset at all.

You always wondered how he managed to notice every little changes about you and every single reactions while also acting so nonchalant and careless. Behind his rough appearance and act, you loved Jotaro for his selflessness and his unmatched kindness.

You sighed in bliss as you hugged his jacket closer, so warm and soft around you. What a relief it was for your cold skin, it felt like his very own rare embrace.

It smelled just like him, too. You usually weren't a fan of the smell of nicotine and would often tease him for it, but when it was so deliciously mixed with his foreign cologne and his natural scent, it felt like something close to heaven to you. Something comforting, safe, and incredibly gentle.

His jacket was gigantic compared to you and you were sure you looked like a fool wearing this unfitting blanket, swallowing you and making you look even smaller and ridiculous than you already were next to him.

"Thank you Jotaro." You grinned, appreciative towards this kind giant, who you were grateful to always have your back whenever you needed, without even having to ask him.

He responded with a subtle nod before grabbing your shoulder and keeping his strides forward, seemingly satisfied with his good deed and with your smile.

Joseph: Accidentally trips you when he turns to talk to you.

It wasn't unusual for Joseph to blabber on his bizarre adventures. With all the things he had lived, he always had something to recount.

You'd always tell him to write a book about all his plights, but then you'd remember the guy barely had enough braincells to even put two and two together and instantly drop the idea.

Today was just a normal day in New York City, you had been strolling around with the behemoth, listening intently, or rather, tiredly as he rambled ceaselessly.

You were stuck between loving all his crazy stories and being annoyed at his obnoxious and theatrical, 'Jojo-fied', as you liked to call it, storytelling.

"And then he said 'You'll never touch the ground ever again Joseph Joestar!' but look who's in outer space now, huh?!" He yelled out, making a few heads turn with his exaggerated hand gestures and booming voice.

You nodded your head and responded with very basic 'Uh huh's and 'Oh's, as well as 'That's cool' and whatnot. Not like you didn't care for what he was saying, but you just couldn't figure what to tell him. Also, the unnecessary attention you were getting was quite flustering too.

"GASP! Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT!! I DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU THE BEST PART YET!!!"

Before you could even process what was happening, Joseph forcefully turned towards you, gasping loudly and intenting to grab your already very well-gripped attention.

But the brute was so clumsy about it, he kicked his unreasonably thick leg in front of your much smaller feet, not warning you as you kept walking, only to trip over him with a yelp that you'd never forget.

"YEEEK-!"

"WOAAH-!!"

With an even louder scream, Joseph tried his best to grab you before you could kiss New York City's piss tainted ground, yanking you to your feet as best as he could, which was more than enough with the strength the man had.

He eventually held you against his chest firmly, his arms belted more than securely around your shoulders and back, shocked and scared that if he loosened his grip even the slightest, you'd either fly away or just collapse.

You panted with adrenaline after regaining your balance and barely left him any time to laugh at your demise or even react at all.

"JOJO YOU FREAKING DUMBASS!!!" You hollered all your fury, pushing yourself off of him, "I ALMOST DIED HERE!!!!"

Joseph cowered in fear as you proceeded your attacks on his poor arms, chest and face. He yelped in pain, desperately putting his arms up in front of him in hopes to shield himself from your unstoppable slapping. For someone with such small hands, you sure hit hard.

"Ow ow ow stop please! This is abuse!! I'm sorry-Ow! Please, n-not there~ ACK- OKAY FINE I'LL STOP!!!"

Josuke: Notices your shoe lace in untied and ties it for you.

In the small, crazy, noisy and bizarre town that was Morioh, there was a famous legend running.

"That if your boyfriend kneels down to tie your shoelaces for you, they'll never come undone ever again! Do you believe that?" You chuckled, barely paying any attention to your surroundings.

Josuke strolled mindlessly next to you, half listening, half not. You were well aware that boys like him often had a hard time paying attention for more than a minute unless it was about sports, video games, or a very big pair of boobs.

"Hmmh, yeah. Crazy stuff..." He mumbled, looking blankly forward, his eyes catching passing cars and boutiques but his ears catching none of your words.

"Hey... Are you even listening?" You glared suspiciously at him, frustrated already. This boy could never concentrate.

"Oh tell me about it." He replied, not even knowing what he was even responding to. Eye twitching, you tested him one last time.

"Rohan has a really nice ass and I'm much better at Smash Bros than you'll ever be."

"Oh, absolutely. You know it!" He nodded, much to your great offense.

"Hey.. Josuke...!" You growled, ready to give him a good slap of reality, "Higashikata!!"

As if on cue, Josuke glanced down and noticed that your shoelaces were untied as you walked.

Without even thinking twice about it, Josuke moved his hands from where they were resting behind his neck and instantly brought one to your chest, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You shot him a puzzled look at his sudden behavior and he immediately bent over, getting down on one knee, on the floor, in front of you, without a care in the world, right in the middle of the street.

You looked down at him and gasped as you noticed he started tying up your poorly secured shoelaces that you didn't bother knotting properly in the morning.

"Oi-! Josuke, what are you doing?! Get up, it's fine I'll do it mysel-"

"Oh shush." He cut you off, handling the chords into cute and safe little bows on your shoes, like a knight, or a prince, happy to fulfill his duty.

You couldn't hold back your blush at the embarassing and impromptu situation. Your heart raced as you tried to get him to stand up, but he was adamant on helping you whether you were embarassed or not.

The boy was completely nonchalant about the ordeal, never caring about the weird looks you both were getting and the many whispers of 'how cute' and 'what an adorabe couple' people were gushing out.

You couldn't reciprocate the indifference. You knew Josuke was the serving type, and this was normal for him. To make your life easy, to treat you, to protect you.

And to fix you.

"... Are you sure you haven't been listening to me? I feel like you're hitting on me right now Jojo." You raised an eyebrow as he got up, proud of his handiwork.

His expression soon fell into a shocked one and he visibly stiffened, "Huh? What? No I'm not?!"

"You literally tied my shoelaces right after I told you that's a boyfriend thing to do!" You shot back and he blushed deep red, gasping at yout sudden assumptions.

"What??! It's not though!! I'm not- I wasn't even paying attention!"

"You're hitting on me, I'm telling Mr. Jotaro."

"NO DON'T TELL HIM!!!"

Jonathan: Carves his and your initials into a tree.

Jonathan had invited you to join him one afternoon in the usual place you both loved to hang out.

You two talked and walked around a path that you could call your little escape route. One you've used so much, you were pretty sure to be responsible for green-less trail that longed the riverside.

Very suddenly, Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks, without saying anything, effectively grabbing your attention.

"What's wrong, Jojo?" You asked, looking back at him.

Without a warning, he took out a small object from his pocket, smiling coyly at you. You were confused but your expression soon shifted when he pressed on a small mechanism that swiftly revealed a sharp, shiny blade.

You flinched and gasped, bringing a hand to your mouth in shock. "Jojo!! Why are you walking around with a pocket knife?! Are you crazy??!!"

He panicked at your reaction and got flustered, agitating his hands around, a dangerous gesture to make for someone holding a knife.

"N-no no no! Wait, Y/N! It's just- I mean, it's useful sometimes... I mean..." He blabbered, not knowing how to breathe between words anymore, "I don't use it... Or- well... I don't do weird things with it it's just-... I would never-... "

He stuttered anxiously, trying to justify himself, getting more and more stressed with your lack of response. Oh no, God, he didn't want to scare you off or lose you over something like this!

He would never forgive himself if you ever thought he were a dangerous man, or a delinquent, or worse, that he'd ever hurt you, and in such a cowardly way too.

He stopped panicking when you suddenly chuckled.

"Ooouh~ Oh my~" You sang teasingly, before pointing at him in playful accusation "Am I hanging out with a baaaad boy~? Jojo you nasty man!"

"S-... STOP IT!!" He cried out as you laughed your heart out, scared that somebody might hear you and take it the wrong way. "Just... Hold on..."

With the knife in his hand, he turned his back to you and started carving something in the tree trunk. You approached and tried to look over his shoulder, wondering what kind of nonsense he could be drawing in there.

"What is this?" You gently tapped his busy arm and he tried to hide his work from your nosy eyes.

"Wait! It's a surprise! I'm almost done... Just... A little bit..." He grunted a bit as he finished carving the blunt surface, "Aaannd.... Done!"

He stepped back, wiping his brow and leaning his hand on the tree, letting you enough space to admire his little work of art. Proud yet also a bit anxious about your reaction.

You got closer to the little heart he drew on the tree. Heart with both your initials in it. For the sake of discretion, he rathered write your initials over your names, which made it all the more adorable, in your eyes.

You gasped lightly, not able to contain your giddy smile. "Jonathan! That's so cheesy! Who taught you that? Have you been reading those weird romance novels?"

"Yes- I mean, NO! No! I don't read that! I'm a man! Only girls read those!" He spat back, flushing a shade of red you wished you could paint.

"Hmmmmm yeah, right!"

He could only chase you around to hopefully make you stop teasing him. He knew he'd never hear the end of it.

Johnny: Grabs your hand and places it around his arm.

"I gotta say..." You started, happily sipping on your drink, "The best thing about your handicap is how we can skip the line for everything!"

You grinned behind Johnny as you pushed his wheelchair forward, walking around the city for the short time you were in Kansas.

"I know. You'll owe me one by the way." He blankly jested, his tone not matching his humour. You've known him long enough to catch on the little perks of his speech, making you chuckle again.

You balanced your cup with one hand to get a better grip on the chair's handles and got back to pushing him. Johnny was quick to realise you were slowing down every once in a while to drink up.

"Stop." He ordered and you obliged, surprised by the sudden request.

"Huh?" You bent over slightly to try to look at him. "Are you okay? Did you need something?"

"This won't do..."

You walked around to get next to him. You were used to him having his foot falling from the footrest and putting it back before it could hurt him, or needing to reajust his back seat from time to time.

Nothing out of the ordinary, you thought. You would have never expected his next request.

Johnny looked over at you, no words shared, and offered his arm out to you, like the perfect gentleman he was.

"...Jojo?"

"I can move by myself. Drink your tea in peace." He blushed and looked away, sighing to himself.

You couldn't help your smile and endeared look. Your Johnny was always such a kind soul behind what he let show. He was observant and selfless. That's why he wanted to free you the burden of pushing his wheelchair, at least so you could enjoy your drink for a moment.

However it was obvious to you that he wanted you to hold him, so dearly, and had found an excuse for you to do so without asking you such an embarassing question.

You couldn't pass on the cute opportunity, but at the same time, you wanted him to make the first move.

You tilted your head, shooting him a faux confused and oblivious look, letting him know you needed him to be clearer in his request.

He huffed and held back on face palming, cheeks becoming redder by the second. Why were you always doing this to him? Teasing him to no end.

He abruptly grabbed you hand, softening his grip immediately after measuring his strength, and placed it around his arm.

You happily followed his lead and gently grabbed his arm, much sturdier than it looked, and gave him enough space to roll the wheels in pace with you.

"Thank you Johnny~" You chimed happily and he let out the ghost of a smile in response, smile that you sadly missed.

Giorno: Makes you dance with him when you walk past a busker.

You passed along a bay in Naples with Giorno, both of you exceptionnally finishing school early due to the surprising absence of your math teacher.

You both talked and suddenly heard the distant sound of accordion, getting louder and louder the more you walked.

You paused, much more intrigued by the musician on the paved pedestrian street, playing a beautiful song for all to listen to. He was a sweet-looking old man, playing a traditionnal Tarantella, the iconic sound of Italy.

Giorno stopped with you, wanting to hear more of what this busker had to offer. You smiled, appreciating the sweet melody and calculated movements of the instrumentalist.

Giorno suddenly walked up in front of you, bending down at the waist to offer his hand out to you, his intense green eyes inviting you and snatching you out of your rêverie.

"Would you care to honor me with a dance, Y/N?"

You gasped silently and felt your cheeks burn at his words, his voice like velvet.

"W-... What? Right here, right now...?" You hesitated, but still gently laid your hand over his soft one, seeking reassurance in his hold.

Giorno was always a charming and extremely well-mannered boy despite the lack of proper education he had received. You would always tell him how princely he looked and acted, and he never failed to impress you by his eloquence, his broad mind, and his gestures.

But you surely did not expect him to propose you a dance, out in public. The sole idea was making you self-conscious, but also excited.

He ever-so-slightly closed his fingers around yours, expecting your consent with a soft smile. You were always at ease with Giorno, for the years you've known each other. Why would you ever refuse anything he asks you?

Like he had read through your heart, Giorno swiftly pulled you towards him, placing his hand right at the small of your back, keeping you up close and personal.

You giggled at the cheesy and intimate position, placing your free hand on his shoulder and ready to mess up the pace.

"I'll step on your toes!" You playfully warned him and he chuckled, endeared.

"Don't worry, Y/N. Just follow my lead."

The busker, noticing you two, smiled and finished up his song, immediately starting up a waltz, the nicest and sweetest of his repertoire.

Giorno confidently started in graceful and fluid movements. You followed him, guided by his assured poise. You tried not to stare down at your feet, which was easy task once you got captivated by his strong gaze.

You focused on your rhythm and his steps. You always wondered why he had randomly decided to teach you to waltz, but now you were grateful that he did, because you truly felt like royalty, and this feeling was priceless.

Pedestrians gathered, watching, amused by the splendid show before them. Two adorable teenagers dancing and living their youth, accompanying the busker.

You laughed, both from nervousness and happiness, knowing well Giorno would hold up the skies just to see you smile like this.

After stepping on Giorno's poor toes more than often enough, and after almost crashing down on him, you two decided it was time to go.

Giorno made sure to tip the gifted old man handsomely, much more than conventionnal, making him wonder how such a young boy could have so much money to spare.

Jolyne: Shares her headphones with you.

You walked side by side with Jolyne. You had planned on having a nice walk alongside the beach together, but the weather had seemed to betray you two, with unusually cloudy grey skies and cold breezes.

And thus, you were prompted to walk through town instead. You were happy either way, as long as you were with Jolyne, your most favourite girl in the world, it didn't really matter where you went or what you did.

The entire walk was silent and, as much as you knew Jolyne wasn't necessarily the most talkative type, the fact that she hasn't removed her earphones at all from the moment you both joined earlier really threw you off.

You guessed she wasn't in the mood for talking. You could absolutely understand that, but the way she seemed to completely ignore you and cross you out of conversing with her at all saddened you.

Maybe she didn't want to go out at all and she just didn't have the heart to cancel on you.

You looked down, with all these questions plaguing your mind, wondering if you had done something to make her distant.

Before you could drown in more self-doubt, she nudged your arm and grabbed your attention. She was smiling at you with her cute green lips.

You looked at her confused, like you had been dreaming it all about her being upset with you. She looked so excited, suddenly.

She pulled out her green iPod, one that she had decorated with tacky semi-permanent tattoos from an infamous bubblegum brand, and immediately gave you one of her earbuds.

"Girl, you have to listen to this. It's Jimi Hendrix playing, listen, listen!" You obliged and put the earbud on, listening to her song intently, "This man's crazy, what the fuck? And they say lefties can't play guitar..."

You kept on listening, the song in one ear, Jolyne's comments in the other. She was lost in the music, playing air guitar and singing bits of the song. It was absolutely endearing to see her so happy about such a little thing.

"So? So? Did you like it?" She turned to you with a big grin as the song ended, her eyes wide and starry with hope of your validation, "I love this song sooo much, I had to make you listen! How was it? Be honest!"

You chuckled, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm and adorable giddiness, "It was really cool Jolyne, you have nice tastes. Send it to me next time."

"Yess!!!" She cheered, pumping her fist in the air in victory. "Alright, let's get some bagels now, I'm starving."

She wrapped a strong arm around your shoulder, tired of the distance separating you. "My treat! Oh! And you have to show me that new group you told me about the other day. Even Hermes is talking about them now."

You couldn't bite back your growing smile as she squeezed you close. Not because of the very appealing call of bagels, even though you were more than looking forward to that, but because of how sweet Jolyne was to you despite what she appeared.

Showing her deepest interests to you when she wasn't much of a sharer was her own love language.

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astrovian · 4 years ago

Text

the official ranking of RA photoshoot outfits (pt. 1)

as @dykethorin said when I first proposed doing this particular ranking, “Some real Decisions™️ were made” with these shoots y’all

all photoshoot outfits (for part one) under the cut

the official ranking of Daniel Miller outfits here

the official ranking of Adam Price outfits here

the official ranking of Claude Becker outfits here

guys, I’m crying with laughter

hey quick question: what the fuck was this photoshoot??? (and also I need current RA in these poses)

it’s real nice to see a fun, loosey-goosey RA (before he established himself in the broody-character archetype) but there are so many questionable fashion choices here

when I started this list I had two options:

1) allow some leeway to the older photoshoots because, let’s be real, the early 2000s were an atrocious time for fashion that a lot of us would most rather forget we participated in

2) judge them by today’s standards, which is harsh but some of these outfits deserve it

naturally, I chose option #2

It’s so hard to even pick where to start. the too-loose pants? the ill-fitting suit jacket? The untucked dress shirt that is for some god-forsaken reason undone in two separate directions??

I have chosen one thing that sums the outfit up as a whole: what monster decided to put the shirt collar over the suit jacket????

the jazz hands scream “hey I’m a FUN guy” but the suit screams “I’m the yo-pro asshole at the office who is so unreliable you’re pretty sure some nepotism must surely have had an influence during the hiring process”

I originally said ‘I guess we should be glad there’s no surfer necklace’ but then I had the horrifying realisation that it’s a 50/50 shot as to whether that would improve this outfit or make it worse. and you know when there’s even slimmest chance a surfer necklace could improve an outfit somehow that it’s time to take a good hard look at yourself

1/10 just because this photoshoot made me genuinely laugh out loud

wait I’m sorry, what-

how on god’s green earth is this the same photoshoot (?) as guys, I’m crying with laughter????

the great thing about these lists is that you are getting my genuine reactions as I progress down the images. I had no idea this was the same photoshoot (?) until approximately 10 seconds after writing guys, I’m crying with laughter

this perfectly encapsulates the duality of man – one moment it’s all goofy jazz hands and the next it’s a hunk-of-the-week moment

this man and guys, I’m crying with laughter are the equivalent of looking at pictures of yourself in high school vs. in your 20s/30s/at your prime. the whiplash is insane

and why is he in front of barred windows?? it appears they were afraid of what would happen if this hunk escaped into the general population

I still can’t believe they kept the collar over the suit jacket though

I’m so conflicted guys, the urge to numerically rank this terrible outfit is strong but uh… as per usual shirtless ones aren’t fair/10

revenge of the killer surfer necklace

do you ever look back at a specific moment in time and are so thankful that someone took one tiny action? one small thing they did in the heat of the moment that probably seemed innocuous at the time but had far-reaching consequences? for example, it might something as simple as deciding to take a umbrella on a bright sunny day only for it to be extremely useful on the way home when the weather turns

this is how I feel about the person who decided RA could leave that top button closed for this shoot

if you squint, you can see the surfer necklace under that top button. and thank god you have to squint

this is such an early 2000s look though. that shirt by itself is fine and would actually look killer with a properly fitted suit nowadays. it’s the shirt dress and loose denim look with makes no sense to me

2/10 for a pretty uninspiring early 2000s outfit

revenge of the uh…

from the same shoot as revenge of the killer surfer necklace this loses .1 of a mark for adding a jacket, while pretty innocuous, to an already busy outfit

1.9/10

were we really that afraid of legs?

why were we, as a society, so obsessed with loose, ill-fitting pants? why were we so desperate to conceal legs from the general population? what secrets were we trying to hide? I understand the comfort factor on the hand, but on the other did anyone actually have eyes

the sneakers/suit combo I can definitely live with. but those pants (that I’m convinced must be pyjama pants in another life) turns it all into a sloppy, blurry mess

2.7/10

is it a bird? is it a plane? no, it’s… a floating RA?

what is it about photoshoots in the early 2000s where they just make no damn sense. it’s my opinion that the theme/concept of a shoot should not overshadow the subject, and that’s the correct opinion (as well as being the exact opposite as to what’s happening here)

maybe there was a hint or reason as to why floating wizard RA exists in the article that this shoot presumably came with, but I don’t get it. clearly I’m far too literal of a person and need to embrace my inner artist

looks pretty, still weird

moving on the entire point of this post, the outfit, I uh,… oh god

I’m pretty sure this the same (and similar, if not) outfit RA wore in the North & South behind-the-scenes, and how we as a society went from John Thornton’s stiff collar and top hat to this is amazing

maybe we were so obsessed with period dramas back then because it was a nice alternative to indulge our eyes in when we had to face the harsh, cold reality of modern fashion at the time

anyway – trust me, while I am all for a man in a necklace, let’s pray surfer necklaces never come back 2.9/10

I genuinely was looking up “pinstriped jacket jokes” because I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head but then I realised I don’t need a joke here because pinstriped jackets are a joke all by themselves

I feel like there may be a situation where pinstriped suit jackets might grow on me, but this is not that situation

also I don’t really know where I stand on the belt, but I certainly think I’m leaning towards the ‘why’ part of the scale. if you’re gonna make a belt that prominent in a photoshoot, at least make it a fun belt

3/10

I’m noticing a trend in these photoshoots and it’s these horrific backgrounds

I will admit that the non-patterned suit jacket is going with the jeans a lot better here. but now that my attention isn’t focused on that, all I can see are the dress shoes. WHY DID YOU PUT DRESS SHOES WITH STRAIGHT-LEGGED JEANS???

please someone I am begging you, can we as a society get to tapered jeans already

3.3/10

did RA genuinely ever get put into any clothes that actually fitted him properly at this point in time?

look, I know I’ve been picking on the bootcut jeans & loose attire that plagued us in the early 2000s (or 2006, to be specific to this photoshoot). what can I say, it’s the low-hanging fruit. or loose-hanging, as the case may be

I do appreciate that rich brown leather jacket and that smile. but that’s where it stops. someone take dress shirts and dress shoes away from bootcut denim PLEASE

3.5/10

this is the bad-boy from your hometown in every rom-com ever

as with well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of below, the lower rating is simply because from what we can see, it’s just a plain shirt. however, that dipped v-neck? mm-mmm

look at that smirk. this man knows what he’s doing to us, dammit.

why do you persist in hurting us this way 4/10

well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of

god bless the person who said we need this shirt wet and clinging and only half-soaked

I’m so sad that I have to give this such a low ranking because uh… we’ve established I have a weakness for those biceps

this does also get bonus points for the creativity of “only this portion of your shirt needs to be wet for your close-up” but at the end of the day it is a solitary grey t-shirt even if it is floating in an attractive sea of muscles

4.5/10

the photographer really said ‘who gives a crap about the clothes’, huh?

an interesting shirt! but as much as I love RA’s face, we should be able to see more of the shirt (and the outfit) because uh… it’s hard to make a judgement call on a photoshoot outfit without that

also, it’s just so hard to concentrate on some of these with RA staring into my soul like that

*sigh* 4.6/10

hello sir, are you as kinky as your shirt?

this is one of the few occasions on which I will give the bootleg baggy jeans a pass. interesting choice to go shoeless for all outfits in this shoot – but the way the shirt is all crumpled is annoying me an incessant amount. I am begging you, someone pass this stylist an ironing board PLEASE

4.7/10 for a crinkle-cut RA

all that’s missing is the beer cans

I’m not sure of the short sleeves here. I think with the shirt open as well my brain doesn’t know where to look

HOWEVER, this is an RA from the early 2000s that I can get behind – largely because he’s not drowning in his denim

the nice, plain belt which matches with the shirt? excellent

interesting choice to go with the bare feet – this entire look (and the quality of that concrete floor) screams ‘we’re chilling at a summer party in your parent’s basement in the early 2000s’ if not for one thing – that couch is way too nice looking. am I being too pedantic about this? no. If you’re gonna go for the whole basement party look, you need a couch that’s falling apart and has at least one questionable stain on it

that being said, I would hang out in this man’s basement

it’s a shirtless one so once again, I cannot give a numerical answer/10

I’m not sure if this man is dangerous or is just an idiot

they may have been wanting RA to embrace his inner Daniel Miller here but that is NOT a jacket that should have its collar popped or if it is, it definitely should not be popped that much. just turn the intensity of that pop down by… at least 35%

this look is telling me to embrace my inner lacy, ruffled collar that men in England used to wear around the 1500 - 1600s. I hate it and refute it with every part of my soul

this is what happens when you embrace your inner Daniel a little bit too much 5.6/10

the return of the leg monster

not much to say about this except once again we are terrified to put RA’s legs into well-fitted pants. what secrets are hiding underneath those voluminous billows? will we ever know?

5.8/10

the one that crushed my hopes and dreams and then spat on my corpse

so I admit it, I got really excited because I thought that this was a leopard print shirt and I was like “this is something I did NOT know that I needed until right now”, even if I would argue that it could have been nice in a little bit of a brighter colour. no matter, I thought it was a nice subtle addition to this plain suit and was just very excited at the prospect of RA rocking leopard print even though I almost always hate leopard print in single every form it comes in

and then. upon zooming. a disappointing paisley. sorry, paisley lovers. I hate it

I would also argue here that the pocket square would have been nice in a plain, bright colour rather than another patterned item thrown into the mix. come on stylists, stop letting me down with your pocket squares

also if there is a point where a suit can be too shiny, I think we’ve found it. I could wax floors with that fabric and I’d rather be thinking about RA’s talent & good looks rather than imagining him being used as a human mop

the hand porn is uh… strong with this one 6/10

the hand porn one

the ring is a nice subtle touch but I can’t decide where I stand on this tie. for me, the checks are just a *wee* tad too small. so small that it I’m scared it will turn into one of those optical illusions with a number in it if I stare at it the tie for too long

the pocket square could also have not tried so hard to blend in with the rest of the suit jacket. give me some colour, baby!

Richard really needs to put his hand down so I can actually concentrate on the clothes 6.5/10

I’m just dotty for this one (I’m so sorry y’all)

so suave. so shiny. I wanna stroke that fabric so bad, it looks so soft

the dots bring a nice yet understated touch to a monotone outfit and GOOD LORD those thighs

they just had to pose him like this to torture us, I’m convinced. also they call him a “commanding gentleman” in the subtitle which is really just unnecessary to verbalise when he’s sitting like this

Someone put me in a rom-com with this man 7.2/10

the modern magician (at least he ain’t floating this time)

I know that the hat should be the focus of this shoot but I can’t get over those shoes

tangentially related, I have never understood why they make men’s dress shoes so excessively long and pointed. these certainly aren’t a good example of this but uh… I don’t understand why men’s dress shoes are clown shoes

I think part of what’s throwing me off is the sockless look. normally I can handle (and even love) it with some shoes but there’s something about the hem of those jeans and those shoes that turn them into slippers when worn sockless

I love the two-tone scarf but what really excites me is the plaid shirt that we can barely see. I’m eternally sad that they had RA hid it in this pose. and also, come one. you could’ve at least gotten a chair with an actual back to it. that can’t be good for his back at all

the one bonus of this outfit is the hat because when do we ever get RA in hats?? and hats that aren’t baseball caps?? a nice, rare touch. but also one which hides most of that face so…

can we talk about the fact that my gut tells me those jean cuffs have been deliberately turned up at the front and all I want in life is to reach into this image and flip them down 7.5/10

*pterodactyl noises*

holy macaroni. that demin shirt. and this shirt’s even a nice lighter denim colour??? and the v-neck?? SIR

I know he’s worn some faux-denim shirts in the last few years (see: Uncle Vanya rehearsal pics) but as outerwear? knocked it out of the park in this one

also I know this is a shirt not a jacket, but this shirt made me think about how I never realised how much I needed RA in jean jackets until today

It could be argued that a nice crew neck cut would work slightly better than the v-neck but that’s really a personal choice

a lovely respite for my weary eyes 7.7/10

a truly, truly blessed image. the sort of image that would bring you endless good luck

I know I’ve given a lot of pants crap on this list but these. these are the ones. these are doing the lord’s work for sure. and god bless the person who decided to shoot from this particular side angle.

and then the shirt?? I’m honestly afraid it may rip if he moves. I could leave or take the tie though. it’s not adding a whole lot to this outfit and I would much rather that shirt be uh… open at the top for a glimpse of uh… well. you know.

this RA outfit laughs in the face of all those early 2000s RA outfits 8.1/10

me running to open my phone every time an RA-related notification pops up

my only sadness is that this shoot was in black & white. we need more action-shot RA shoots!

also the subtle plaid?? *chef’s kiss*

well, I said ‘my only sadness’ but is it also me or are both ends of that tie strangely square? that is throwing me off from an otherwise spectacular photoshoot outfit, I won’t lie

8.5/10 for a man of action

this is what we all like to think we look on the way to work. hate to break it to ya - we don’t

god, that wind-ruffled hair. the rustic look provided by both the suit material & the photo editing. that stare over the top of that coffee mug. the casual ‘I just picked up the paper on my way out this morning’

words fail me

would it be weird if I said I would pay money to be able to run my hands through anyone’s hair that looks as soft and wind-swept as that 8.9/10

the comfiest RA

I love. love. love this outfit, especially the sweater. the pant colour goes extremely well with this one and I’m so glad they didn’t just stick him in jeans. the is the softest, comfiest RA and I love it. this is an RA who you can simultaneously share a beer and takeaway with at home, cuddling up on the sofa while you watch a film, as well as an RA who will take you out to eat fancy pasta at an upscale restaurant.

the choice of sitting on a stool is also great. my only real gripe here is the watch (and even that’s a minor one, really). the watch isn’t THAT bad, but it’s chunky face reminds me slightly of the watches boys in my class would wear in middle school. the watch could be a *wee wee tad* slicker, but really, I’m nitpicking here (and this is the only time I will admit to it)

the more I look at it, the more this becomes one of my fav RA pics. the slight smile. the relaxed pose. the hint of hand porn

weirdly, for some reason this picture gives me the exact same comfy and ‘just chilling out’ feeling as when I hear the song “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer 9.5/10

#richard armitage #yes this is a multi-part one because uh... there's a lot of photoshoots guys #also yes most of the early 2000s ones ended up at the bottom and I refuse to apologise for that

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pixie88 · 4 years ago

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Rory Bear

A/N: Those who play Lovelink know Rory O’Brien. He recently when grey on me, I miss him so decided to do a FF especially for him! He is one hot dad, who looks like Chris Evans. This might be a one shot piece or I might continue I’m not sure yet. Let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged!

Find my other Rory O’Brien FF HERE on my masterlist under Lovelink - One shots.

Comments always welcome!

Word count: 2317

WARNINGS: ⚠️ NSFW & Fluffy fluff

Disclaimer: Characters are property of Lovelink.

Pairings: Rory x MC - Laila

Enjoy!

It's been two days since I've heard from Rory while he was washing his car. I don't want to bother him, I know he's busy with work and Amy. So, I get dressed and take Winnie for a walk. It's a sunny winter's day, we spend an hour in the park playing fetch before I grab a hot chocolate from the food van in the park.

We are nearly home when I hear my phone, I pull it out of my bag and the screen lights up.

*Lovelink - Rory has sent you a message*

[Hi Laila, How are you? I was thinking about our last conversation and I have my answer, but I want to tell you in person.]

I reply once I get inside.

[Hey Rory, I'm fab thanks you? How is Amy? Oh ok, I'm glad you've have come to a conclusion.]

[I'm not great tbh. Amy is fine, she has an art show at school tomorrow night.]

[Oh no, what's wrong? Aww, bless her! Has she made an art piece?]

[I've missed you! I was thinking would you be up for coming? My mom and dad will be there too. So, I understand if it's too much too soon. Yeah, she's done a drawing of you.]

[I can't say I haven't missed you. Oh, are you sure you want me to be there if your parents are? Is this your way of getting me to the art show? Because it's working.]

[Yes, I want you there and so does Amy after you helped her at her dance recital she wanted to do something to say thank you. If it means you'll come then yes haha.]

[Fine, I'll come, but only because I'm curious about this drawing. Plus, I want to see you and Amy! What time does it start?]

[Thank you so much Amy will be so pleased about you coming! It starts at 6 pm but I can come and pick you up at about 5.30 pm?]

[Just Amy? Ok, 5.30 is great. Can't wait to see you both]

[I'm super excited to see you too! Great, I'll see you then.]

(He wants me to meet his parents? Does that mean he's ready to move on? I guess I'll find out tomorrow)

~*~*~*~

The next day I drop Winnie round to my neighbours house. I'm just finishing up. I decided on a blue blouse undone slightly and black jeans with knee-high boots.

Ding Dong!

He's here! I open the door, Rory smiles "Laila, you look beautiful!"

"Thank you! You look handsome yourself. Ready to go?" I ask.

"Aww, thanks. Yeah, Amy is in the car"

"Great, let's go!" We walk over to the car and Amy smiles brightly at me as we approached the car.

Rory opens the door for me "Such a gentleman"

He smiles "Only the best for you"

He seems different from the past two dates lighter and more confident. He closes the door.

"Hey, Amy how are you?"

"I'm ok thanks. Are you?"

Rory gets into the car.

"I'm great thanks Amy" Rory starts the engine. It's not long before we arrive at the school.

When we get inside, Rory waves at an elderly couple I'm guessing are his parents. They make their way over to us "Rory, Amy and who might this be" the elderly lady says.

"Mom, Dad this is Laila. She's my date, Laila and Laila this is my mother Philippa and my father, Albert"

"Hi, nice to meet you both!"

"Rory you didn't tell us you were dating again! I'm so happy for you" Philippa says.

"She's beautiful too," Albert says.

"She is," Rory gives me a look that sends butterfly's through my body.

I smile.

"Laila, come on I want to show you my drawing!"

Amy grabs my hand and leads me to her drawing "Amy, this is beautiful!"

"I added Dad on to it. The love heart is you two falling in love"

"Oh wow! What's the rainbow for?"

She smiles "Nothing, I just wanted to add a rainbow"

"Oh ok! Well, it's better than any rainbow I have ever drawn!" We laugh as Rory and his parents appear behind us.

"Do you like it, Daddy?"

"Amy it's amazing, but I thought you said it was a drawing of Laila?"

"It is! There is Laila and there is you and that is you falling in love!" Rory blushes.

We look round at all the other art pieces Rory comes up behind me as I'm looking at a paper mache volcano. I feel his breath on the back of my neck "Are you ok?"

I turn "Hey, Yeah I'm fine you?"

"Laila, I'm sorry about Amy's picture"

"It's cute," I smile at him.

"Well, we have 5 minutes to ourselves can we talk?" he asks.

"Sure"

"On our last date you said you didn't think I was ready to move on," he says.

"I did and I also said you needed to think about what you wanted"

"Yes, you did," he says.

"So, Rory have you figured it out?"

"I did...Laila, I've had a long hard think about it and I'm ready! My walls are coming down for you!" He gives me a cheeky grin.

"Are you sure? I don't want to push you into something you aren't ready for!"

"Laila, I'm one hundred percent positive" His arms wrap around me, and he pulls me in tight.

I giggle "Rory!" I wrap my arms around him "You're like a bear! Rory bear!"

He laughs "Is that my new pet name?"

"It will be!" I laugh.

We de-tangle ourselves from each other Amy runs over excited "Laila, Daddy come on they're announcing the winners" she drags us over to where her teacher is on stage.

"Evening, parents and students I am proud to announce the winners from Falcon class. Third place goes to Isla Johnson. Well done Isla!"

We clap little Isla as she steps on stage to accept her award.

"Second place goes to Amy O'Brien, Well done Amy!"

Amy's face lights up as she turns to us "Yes! I got second place!!"

"Well done Amy!" Rory beams at her.

"Go claim your award! Amy!" Albert tells her.

She runs on stage and accepts her award. She comes back off stage, and we don't even hear who wins first place.

"This calls for a celebration! Why don't Grandad and I take you out for dinner sweetpea?" Philippa asks.

"Yes, please!" she turns to Rory.

"Daddy, can I go? Please?" Amy asks.

"Aren't Laila and I invited?"

She laughs "Daddy, you and Laila should have some time together!"

"Yeah, we'll watch Amy for a few hours. You two go and enjoy yourselves" Albert offers.

Rory looks at me with a look I have never seen from him before "Are you sure?" he asks.

"Of course! We love any chance to spoil our grandchild" Philippa says.

"Ok, but make sure you behave for Nanna and Grandad. OK?"

Amy smiles "Deal! Bye, Daddy!"

"Bye, sweetheart!"

Amy takes her grandparents' hands and leads them toward the exit.

Rory turns to me "Do you want to come back to mine? I could cook us dinner?"

"Ok, sounds perfect!"

We make our way to his car, and he opens the door for me "Thank you!"

He winks, closes the door, and gets into the driver's seat "Amy likes you"

I smile at him "She's a lovely kid! You did a brilliant job!"

He blushes "Thank you, Laila. You know when her Mom died, I thought how am I going to do this by myself and get it right?"

I take his hand "Well, you smashed it!"

He lifts my hand to his lips and places a small kiss against my knuckles.

10 minutes later we pull up to his house, he comes round to my side of the car and opens the door "You know I will expect you to open every door I go to walk through now" I laugh.

"It would be my pleasure!" He winks. He takes my hand and entwines his fingers through mine as he leads me to the house.

He unlocks the door and I step inside with Rory close behind as soon as the door shuts, he presses me against the wall his lips claim mine.

His kiss is full of passion, want, and desire. I'm pressed against the hard wall and his muscular body. I wrap my arms around him, his hands come under my thighs, and he lifts me up.

He starts grinding against my core "Rory" I feel he's stiff against me.

He moves us away from the wall, his lips never leaving mine. He guides us upstairs, kicks open a door and we fall onto his bed. He pulls away a little "Laila, I want you! I'm ready"

I giggle, "I kinda figured that"

His eyes are alight with desire "If you don't want this..."

I cut him off, he gets the hint. He moves from my lips and down to my neck and back up to my ear, his lips brush against it "You're so beautiful!" his hands start to unbutton my blouse his lips feather kisses against my chest.

I push off his suit jacket, pull his sweater vest up over his head and I grab his tie and pull him down towards my lips. He groans as his hand dips into my jeans, he brushes against me and I can't help arch off the bed. I yank his tie off and begin to unbutton his shirt.

I become breathless at the sight of his toned body. I flip us, crash my lips to his and work my way down his breathing shudders as I pepper kiss over his chest down to his abs "Laila!" I unbuckle his belt and he shifts helping me get him out of them.

I trail kisses up his inner thigh I pull him free of his boxers. He's hard I take him in my hand and circle around the tip he bucks up "Ah, ah, ah! Rory bear!"

He hisses in frustration "Christ...Laila!"

I work my mouth against him. His hand tangles into my hair moving me to his rhythm.

"Laila, you have to stop," he pulls me up onto the bed next to him, he moves to hover over me. He pulls off my boots and jeans in one swift manner.

His tongue invades my mouth, his taste still lingering there. His lips kiss along my purse line, my collarbone to my breast he unclips my bra and tosses it to the floor.

His lips cover my nipple "Crap Rory!" He moves to my tummy nipping as he goes definitely hard enough to leave bite marks. His hands pull at the waistband of my underwear until they are gone. He pulls a silver packet out of the bedside cabinet draw.

"Laila, it's been a while so I might be a little rusty" he lifts my legs his mouth finds my centre.

He moves my folds apart with his tongue I cry out unable to hold back a moan "Rory bear, you definitely have......not forgot how to do that!" I clutch his hair and move my hips wanting more.

He works against my clit "Nice to know I haven't lost my touch!" He doubles his efforts I'm barely holding on!

I pull him up to my lips he pulls away enough our lips aren't touching, but his forehead is against mine "Laila, are you sure this is what you want? Me? Everything that comes with me?"

"Yes! I want all of you!" This is all he needs to hear.

He rips the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on. He brushes his stiffened member against me and pushes past my entrance filling me. His lips forcefully captures mine, he groans. Each thrust he draws out slowly then thrust back fast and hard, I can't get enough of him!

My nails dig into his back, he hisses "God Laila!" His lips move to my pulse line every nerve ending feels electrified with each thrust, touch, kiss I can barely hold back a moan. I flip us both to his surprise "Whoa!" He screams.

"I need a bit of control too!" I start to move my hips riding him.

"By all....means I'm.....willing to....let....you take ohh god....the reins!" He struggles to get his words out.

His hands grasp my hips, and he bucks to match my rhythm "Ooooh Rory bear!"

He smirks "You know I love....this neeew pet name!" He groans.

He sits up placing his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me to his lips. He catches my lip between his teeth as he pulls me tight against his bare chest, "I can't..."

His lips brush against my ear "Let go, Laila! I'm barely holding on myself!" This is all it takes to send me falling over the edge. Rory shudders as he finds his own climax.

We are both panting barely catching our breath. He smiles up at me "Laila, that was...wow just wow!"

I smile "It was amazing!"

He pulls me into a soft kiss we are interrupted by the sound of his phone.

I collapse onto the bed next to him while he reaches for it. He reads the message "Everything OK?" I ask.

He turns to me with a cheeky smile "Just my Mom, she's going to have Amy for the night!"

"Oh?"

He lay next to me "You know what that means?" He smirks.

I try to hide a smile (I know exactly what it means by the smile on his face) "What does it mean?"

"Round 2" he pulls me onto him.

"HEY! You promised to cook me dinner!"

He smirks "We'll order in...After!"

He starts laying kisses along my pulse line, and we get lost in each other embrace again.

I’m tagging you because I know your a Lovelink fan lovely @khoicesbyk

#lovelink #roryobrien #rory x mc #ludia #ludia lovelink #lovelink fanfic #rory o'brien #rory o'brien fanfic #smut #fanfic

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raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

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bruised

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

colt and ellie bump into each other in a bar.

happy epilogue day, @rodappreciationweek!

tags: @choicesarehard ; @lovehugsandcandy ; @pixeljazzy ; @beccadavenport ; @zigtheeortega

~3.9k words | E (18+)

everything grinds to a sudden, startling halt when her roommate, mia, leans in close in the crowded, noisy bar and says, “hey -- don’t look now, but that guy over there looks a lot like the dude from your prom photo.”

it’s the second semester of her junior year at langston, which means they’re rapidly approaching the three-year anniversary of that day. she’s just turned twenty-one, so she and mia can finally drink legally at the bars in new york near langston’s campus that never carded them, anyway.

ellie finished her last midterm this morning. the day had been filled with promise when she’d left the lecture hall, springtime sunny with the weekend stretched out ahead of her.

now it’s after midnight, and there’s only the inevitability of this interaction waiting, in direct contrast to the optimism she’d felt earlier.

she turns her head and catches sight of that familiar profile immediately, the one she’d know anywhere. she’s certain she’d recognize the back of his head in times square on new year’s eve.

ellie turns away before colt has the chance to notice she’s staring, and wets her lips. shakily, she answers, “it is him.”

mia’s eyebrows jump to her hairline. “what? are you sure?”

as sure as she’s ever been of anything. she tips her head back and finishes the watered-down cranberry vodka in her hands in one last swallow, holding out her empty plastic cup. mia takes it from her wordlessly, dropping her own drink into it, doubling-up.

“i’m going to go say ‘hi,’” ellie murmurs calmly -- far more calmly than she feels. “are you alright over here for a few minutes?”

“yes,” mia answers, her brow furrowing as her lips turn down into a frown, “but are you sure you want to...”

her voice fades into the music playing in the bar and the cacophony of conversations that swallow it up when ellie steps away, out into the crowd.

colt’s drinking alone, near the bar at the front of the room. he notices her as soon as she pushes through the throng of people that’d been in the way between them and hones his dark gaze on her steadily while she approaches.

ellie can feel her hands clench into fists at her sides when, from behind his glass of something brown, he looks her up and down slowly, his eyes lingering lazily on her bare legs.

“what the hell are you doing here?” she demands, hoping her voice sounds a little more angry and a little less panicked. frantic. nervous. spiraling out of control.

colt lifts the cup in his hands. his answer is just as sharp as ever -- too defensive, a challenge she can’t resist. “drinking. it’s a bar.”

“a college bar,” ellie bites back, effortlessly taking the bait, “at my college. and you live two-thousand miles away.”

he blinks indifferently back at her. “what’s your point?”

“my point is that if you’re here to check up on me, you have some nerve --”

because he hasn’t called. he hasn’t texted. he hasn’t even tried.

“ellie, there are over one-million people on the island of manhattan.” blind rage boils up inside of her, threatening to pour steam from her ears as a smirk starts to form behind the lip of his cup. “how could i possibly know you’d be here?”

“that’s what i’m asking you!” she practically shouts back, though fortunately the bar’s loud enough to cover her. not that she cares at all if she’s causing a scene -- it’s the least he deserves. “what are you doing in new york?”

colt watches her silently, obviously unafraid to let himself look. he’s never been like her, in that regard; she’d be too embarrassed to be caught staring at him, cataloging the ways he’s changed over the last few years, but he’s unashamed, and looks his fill until her face feels hot with something other than outrage.

“working,” he says finally, reaching around to leave his cup on the bar behind his back. “i had meetings in the area. i didn’t realize you owned everything above one-hundred and tenth street and west of the park.”

ellie’s eyes narrow in on the twitch of his fingers where his hands rest casually on his thighs. he’s rattled. not as rattled as she is, but not as unaffected as he’s acting -- like he knew there was a chance this might happen but that he was still ill-prepared for it.

she can’t believe how long it’s been.

so much has changed, yet so much is still the same -- colt is still wearing that beat-up leather jacket; he’s still clean-shaven and tense with a tightness in his jaw that betrays an axe to grind with someone or something. she can see flashes of the same temper in the danger underlying each of his words, can read barely restrained fury in the line of his broad shoulders.

he still looks at her with the same intensity he always had, like he and he alone can stare directly down into her soul and see everything she is or ever will be all at once.

“you could’ve called me if you knew you’d be by campus,” she says, because at least that much is true. with everything she wants to say to him -- it’s a start. it’s what’s weighing most heavily on her mind. why hasn’t he called her?

colt leans back against the bar. “would you have picked up?”

it’s an unfair question, because he doesn’t even know how many times she’s tried to call him. the number she has for him is out-of-service -- long since turned off -- yet she still uses it, whenever the city feels too big and lonely, or she hears screeching tires, or she yearns for someone to talk to who just gets it, who knows and understands her completely and totally...

or when she misses him so terribly she would give anything to hear his voice, even just one last time.

“yes.” the answer doesn’t come freely; ellie has to force the word up. it costs her everything to admit as much. it feels like a big revelation. it’s been three years, after all -- she should be a different person, by now. she shouldn’t still want this.

especially not as much as she does.

but she's not different at all, so of course she still wants.

colt finally shifts his gaze away from her to scan the room. ellie watches him do so quietly, though her breath catches audibly when his eyes pause on the restroom in the back of the bar, behind the throng of students in the space. she twists over her shoulder to look at it, too -- there’s no line.

when she wheels back around, the smile on his face is sinister.

“come on,” he orders, like he can read her mind, sliding his fingers over her wrist before he strides purposefully toward the bathroom.

the ghost of his touch makes her shiver. part of her wants desperately to be able to defy him, to dig her heels in and stay where she is or take the opportunity to slip away behind his back, to grab mia and get the hell out of here.

but she follows colt helplessly, her eyes trained on his silhouette even when he finally stops at their destination, holding the door open for her with a grin.

it clatters shut behind him, loudly, and she squints at colt and the sharp line of his jaw, now illuminated by the suddenly bright fluorescent light, his expression a harsh contrast to how soft he’d seemed out in the dim ambiance of the bar.

the sound from outside cuts off into a dull whisper in the background.

now they’re alone.

the look in colt’s eyes is as calculating as ever, like he’s still trying to work out just what makes her tick. it’s like there’s every option in the world waiting before him, and all he has to do is decide which play he wants to run.

she can practically see the moment he makes up his mind.

it’s just after she deliberately steps back and hops up onto the ledge of the sink, leaning over in the cramped space of the bathroom to pointedly thumb the lock on the door.

he moves in a flash, accepting the invitation for what it is and crowding in against her, so that she gasps when he pushes between her legs and her head thumps back against the mirror behind her in surprise.

it hurts, but that’s the least of her problems, because colt’s lips have found her neck and he remembers exactly where to take them to elicit a response, scraping his teeth along the column of her throat mercilessly as he works his way to that spot that still makes her shudder.

then she aches all over, distracting from the way her head is throbbing where it’d smacked against the mirror, because he’s triggering a muscle memory for a muscle she hasn’t exercised in a long time.

colt pulls at her top, and she draws in a quick breath, her grip on the sticky sink counter white-knuckled where her hands are clutching it on either side of her thighs. he holds her wide-eyed gaze as his hips roll forward once, slowly and forcefully, letting her feel him against her even through all the denim in their way.

her lips part, something hesitating on her tongue. it’s impossible to get out with him staring at her like that, like this is something more to him than just the heat of the moment. his fingers stroke slowly over the bare skin of her stomach, beneath her top.

“do you want this?”

ellie nods.

“say it.” there’s that thread of danger in his voice again, lurking just beneath the command. her eyes flash, but colt continues to stare at her, waiting.

“i want this,” she huffs, already frustrated by the attitude she’s not used to, anymore -- not like she was.

she had imagined their next meeting -- because she’d always been certain there would be a next meeting -- thousands of times. of course, in some of the scenarios, he’d been a total asshole, like he is being or even worse, but in most of them she’d pictured something softer. in most of her dreams he was happy to see her. in her favorite ones, he told her he missed her, held her close and promised not to let her go again.

but that was only a fantasy, and an unattainable one, at that.

this is something more realistic, something she should have expected. he hastens to get her shorts undone and it’s not what she’s been hoping for but it still feels right, in a way, like they sealed their fate and signed up to meet again in this gross bar bathroom three years ago when they had their last goodbye.

ellie helps him pull them down to her ankles, letting them dangle off of one foot. then she rushes to get his jeans open, too, all on her own since his hands are otherwise occupied working their way over her body, pushing her shirt and her bra up with one hand while the other yanks her thong to the side.

it’d been hot in the bathroom before they started this but now she’s sweating, her hands clumsy when they fumble for his arms where he’s still wearing his fucking jacket. “colt,” she breathes, his name both a prayer and a curse at the same time. ellie stares in fascination at the way he screws his eyes shut in response, then repeats herself. “colt.”

his fingers nudge between her legs, as practiced as ever. he’s always had a remarkable talent for making her shake and this time is no different; it only takes a few swipes of his thumb against her clit before ellie is moaning, directly into his ear where she scrambles to tug him in closer.

colt stares at her the whole time he touches her, his expression unreadable. she used to pride herself on being able to analyze even the slightest shifts of his face, but looking at him now is like meeting him for the first time all over again -- he may as well be a stranger, with how well he’s managed to close himself off to her.

ellie lifts a hand to his hair and draws him into a kiss before he can stop her. if he’s going to make her do this his way, then she’s going to take something for herself, too.

except that he makes a sound into her mouth that makes her hips jerk, an answering whimper slipping unbidden from her lips. colt pauses, twisting his wrist, then kisses her back harder, as though the last measure of his restraint has finally snapped.

she’s helpless to do anything but let the fire of his kiss consume her, so she does. she melts in his arms and colt devours her, easily, the movement of his hand between his legs not even faltering for a second while his mouth relentlessly pulls groans from her, keeping her present -- reminding her that she’s here, with him, and that they’re doing this -- that there’s no going back, now.

that was how every moment with colt felt. every day was a new leap off a new cliff. a new opportunity for her to tumble to pieces, if she misstepped.

and she misses walking that particular tightrope more than she could ever say.

ellie comes apart with a gasp of his name, her thighs trembling beneath his iron-clad grip, her body confused by the dichotomy of how his touch feels almost like a reprimand when her heart is so full of love for him, still.

colt pulls back to look at her once she’s caught her breath and lifts his other hand to her flushed face, softly brushing her hair out of her eyes.

his stare continues to be inscrutable, despite how desperately she wants to know what he’s thinking.

she licks her lips, dipping her fingers back into the open front of his jeans. “colt,” she murmurs, “please.”

he stills like she’s hit him, then kisses her again, just as frantically as before.

their hips slot together perfectly, as seamless as the last time. it’s been almost three years and she can’t help but wonder about all he’s done in between the bookends of these encounters, where he’s been since the last time they did this and tonight.

she wonders if it feels as good to him as it does to her -- so good it doesn’t even matter what he’s done since she last left him, so good she nearly sobs with relief when he finally presses his cock all the way inside, so good she’d happily be the first on the sign-up sheet to have ill-advised unprotected sex with her ex-almost-something in the college bar she’ll never be able to revisit without blushing a thousand times over again.

what it comes down to, she thinks, when his first forceful thrust rattles the sink beneath her, is that colt has always known something about her she had never wanted to confront: that there is nothing else satisfying out there for her but him and this, this thing she’s been running from and constantly second-guessing.

no matter how much distance she puts between herself and her past, there will always be the inevitability of wondering if she’s made the right decision.

the next buck of his hips wipes her brain blank, fortunately, saving her from agonizing over the argument she’s had with herself thousands of times before and pulling her violently back to the present, where colt is acting like he has something to prove, her face still tenderly cupped in his right hand.

“oh, god,” ellie groans, her gasps rhythmically timed to the movement of his hips, “oh, fuck.”

colt’s face tips into the side of her neck, his panting breaths hot on her skin. “christ, ellie.” the sound of his voice is a low mumble she has to strain to hear, certain she won’t want to miss a word of what he’s saying, even when remembering it later tonight will feel like torture. “you sound so...”

it’s more words than she’s able to string together. her brain is a jumbled mess of expletives she doesn’t usually indulge in and colt, colt, colt, her body trembling under his touch as she holds onto him tightly. “good?” she questions. she has to know.

“perfect,” colt moans emphatically, his lips brushing against the dip of her throat with each syllable. “you feel even better.”

they both exhale when the words make her squeeze around him, though colt’s breath sounds like it’s punched out of his chest. he sounds as torn apart as she feels, so she can’t not look at him any longer, the shift between them as they fall easily back into their old habits practically palpable.

ellie lifts his face parallel to hers, sighing sweetly when he tilts their foreheads together. any animosity that had been between them falls away as their eyes lock. she can tell by the look on his face that he sees the naked adoration in her gaze, and revels in the open affection he offers her in turn.

colt’s movements slow to a dirty, groan-inducing grind, and she whimpers into his mouth when his lips brush hers softly to match them.

her nails rake through his hair, and then again when the scratch of them makes him grunt and press forward forcefully.

“colt,” she whispers, “please don’t -- don’t -- god, don’t ever stop.”

he squeezes her hip, his grip hardly tight enough for the bruises she’s been hoping for. “i won’t,” colt promises. “never, ellie.”

that’s the only thing she wants -- to live in this strange, secluded moment with colt forever, to know that she won’t have to be alone again once it ends.

because it has to end.

he swears loudly when he comes, the same as he did the other times they did this. he kisses her through the hiccuping shivers of her own orgasm and keeps kissing her, long after she’s settled again, so severely that it makes it impossible for her to catch her breath.

colt’s the first to break the silence between them, his eyes dark pools of intense vulnerability where they’re trained on her face. “come home with me.”

she swallows. “colt...”

“ellie.” he looks as lost as he had three years ago, and just as emotional. how can she possibly be expected to deny him? “think about it, before you say ‘no.’”

“all i do is think about it,” she admits, held captive by the pain on his face. “if there was a way to make it work --”

“we’ll find one.” his voice is suddenly fierce, insistent. “fuck, ellie. we tried it your way, and it sucks, right? we can try --”

“colt.” he cuts off with a clench of his jaw, holding perfectly still between her spread legs. “i have to stay here.”

then he blinks, and his carefully crafted mask of coolness slips back into place, putting a distance between them that has nothing to do with the way they’re still joined at the hips.

he nods.

they redress quietly, keeping their hands to themselves. ellie slides off the sink and onto her feet with a wince, reaching out for colt’s wrist as soon as his jeans are done up again.

“will you call me?” she shifts around in his field of vision until he looks at her, frowning when colt only sighs as an answer. “please,” she begs, “the number i have for you is off. i hate not being able to reach you.”

he chews on his response for what feels like forever, seemingly weighing his options in his mind. as they’ve gotten older, there’s a restraint to him that hadn’t been there the last time they were together, like he’s trying to decide how much of an asshole he wants to be where before he might’ve just gone full-throttle colt and leaned into it completely without hesitation.

“you can’t just ask me to wait around forever,” he says finally, an edge to his voice that makes her shiver.

“i’m only asking you to call me.”

ellie drops his wrist, leaning back against the locked door behind her.

the eventual sigh he gives is resigned. “alright. i’ll call you.”

neither of them make any move to open the door. after a moment, colt’s palm presses to the wood beside her head and he leans down to kiss her one last time, gentle and finite and searching.

she loops her arms around his waist, fisting the fabric of his jacket to keep him close. ellie kisses him back until her lungs are burning, until her mouth feels as raw as her nerves, until she knows, with certainty, that she’ll never, ever be ready to say ‘goodbye’ to him.

they break apart, and she clears her throat, softly smoothing his jacket back into place. “i really miss you, you know.”

colt’s hand hovers next to her cheek, then pushes her hair behind her ear. “i miss you every fucking day.”

she won’t be able to stop wondering if she’s made the right decision anytime soon.

he’s the one to reach behind her and undo the lock on the door, turning the knob at her side slowly. colt’s lips twist into a little grin when she stumbles as the wood she’d been leaning on shifts, spilling the sound from the bar and the weight of reality back onto the both of them all at once, before she’s ready for it.

they wander into the crowd together. mia’s waiting for her in the same spot ellie had left her in, and waves her over with wide eyes.

ellie’s able to catch colt’s eye one last time before he disappears. he nods at her, something like warmth jumping back into his gaze. the quirk of his mouth is a little easier to read, now that they seem to be at a closer understanding. she smiles back at him.

with the ghost of his fingers skimming over her wrist one last time, he’s gone.

ellie walks back over to her roommate as if in a daze. “i feel like a need a hazmat suit to just look at you,” mia sighs, scrunching up her nose. “tell me you did not have sex in the bathroom.”

“i didn’t have sex in the bathroom,” she parrots back obligingly, biting down on the inside of her cheek to stifle a smile when mia answers with a roll of her eyes. “are you ready to get out of here? i’m exhausted.”

“oh, i’ll bet.”

ellie bumps her shoulder into mia’s as they head back down the block to their dorm, tilting her chin up to look at the moon.

colt’s still here, in the city, somewhere. maybe he’s even thinking about her, like she’s thinking about him.

her phone buzzes from where it’s stuffed in her back pocket. the text message displayed on the screen, from an unknown number she doesn’t recognize, makes her chest feel tight. her heart slams against her ribcage at just the sight of it.

let me know when you’re free to talk, it says, and i’ll give you a call.

#rodaw #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #myfic #long post #ns*w #lemon #you'd think i'd be tired of them by now lmao #choices rod #i kind of really like this one i hope you guys like it too !!#ride or die

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fortheloveoffanfic · 5 years ago

Text

Involved

Keanu Reeves x Reader.

Warnings- SMUT/NSFW (probably the softest SMUT I’ve ever written), Angst

“Come over?”

That’s what the text read, and Keanu’s fingers hovered over the screen as he debated his answer. Y/n always hated storms; the booming claps of the thunder, the angry strikes of lightening and how the wind would whip the rain violently, it all always seemed frighten her. Though, for days, the forecast had predicted that one was brewing and by Thursday, sunny California had greyed significantly and a telling chill hung in the air. Occasionally eerie winds would be joined by heavy droplets and Keanu knew that by the time dusk came, heavier rains would be upon them.

He also knew that despite the tug-of-war going on in his head, he’d eventually find his way to Y/n’s place; he couldn’t bare to think of her alone and afraid at her place. They weren’t together, they hadn’t been for a while, but somehow, years after their bittersweet end, Y/n and Keanu were still....involved. She was still the person he called after a bad day and he was still her go to when she didn’t want to be alone. At times, things had even gone past what was shared between old friends, more resembling what they used to have as lovers; she’d wake up in his bed or vise versa.

Finally relenting, Keanu let his fingers tap the screen quickly; “Sure, be there as soon as I can.”

Without waiting for her response, Keanu showered and changed quickly, snatching up his phone and car keys on his way out. The drive to Y/n’s place at a lovely seaside community was more than an hour from his place and with rain, he could be looking at a two hour drive.

Just minutes under two hours after she had sent her two word text, Keanu was pulling into Y/n’s driveway. The rain had long started, pattering loudly against her closed windows, the howling of the wind sometimes interrupted by thunder and lightening. She hadn’t even heard the hum of his Porsche as he parked, but she did get the text informing her that he was at her front door.

Dressed cozily in her favorite sweatshirt and pair of leggings, Y/n jogged barefoot to her front door, pulling it open and smiling softly at the sight of Keanu. She could always count him to show up when she needed him, even if it was soaking went and breathing heavily. His grey shirt beneath his black jacket clung to his skin and his hair was dripping onto his shoulders. “Thanks for coming,” Y/n ushered Keanu inside and they lingered on the rug at the entrance. She pecked the corner of his lips, placing a palm on his cheek, his beard rough under fingers; in the past year, he had gotten more grey, not that Y/n minded, even if it wasn’t her place too. She actually quite liked it, age looked good on him.

“No problem,” Keanu dismissed gently, with his hand on Y/n’s waist, “I’d hug you but I’m soaked. And now I’m dripping onto your rug,” he chuckled, looking down at how around his brown boots, a dark, damp patch stood out against the material.

Giggling, Y/n shook her head, “It’s okay, I think you still have some clothes here, so we can toss these into the dryer.”

“Sounds good,” Keanu followed Y/n up the stairs, all the way to her bedroom, where he had been last been just a couple months prior. As she rummaged through the dresser, where some of his clothes still resided, he kept his eyes trained on her. It used to be like that when they were together too; they were always taking care of each other. Keanu often thought that Y/n was better at taking care of him than he was at doing it himself; always reminding him that it was okay to put himself first, to take some time off and just let someone worry about him. He had been good for her too; before Keanu, Y/n would have trouble letting people in, but he had weaned her out of herself and she had opened up to him in a way that she never hadn’t ever before.

They were good for each other. Keanu didn’t think there was another like Y/n, and Y/n wasn’t interested in starting over with someone new.

As he watched her, Y/n eventually got out an old t-shirt, and from another drawer, a pair of dark jeans, he had been looking for those, “I guess I should get to clearing this stuff out, huh?” Keanu would always offer a quip of that strain when he saw how much he had left there. Likewise, Y/n would always promise to clear out what she had left back at his place after she had moved out. Neither of them would ever get to it though; boxing their stuff up and moving it out felt too final for the pair, it was if it would signal a real end, the final break that Y/n and Keanu wasn’t ready for.

Handing the clothes over, she stood merely a foot away, “Yeah, and you still have my copy of The Bell Jar.”

“I don’t have it,” he huffed playfully, “You just never take back when you come over,” taking the dry outfit only to dump it onto the bed so he could get undressed.

“Maybe I’ll come by and pick it up,” Y/n smiled, starting to push off his jacket. The material fell to the floor, sounding heavier than it might have if it were dry. Next, she got started on the plastic buttons of Keanu’s button up, “Do you ever think...about us?”

He did, all the damn time. Swallowing tightly, Keanu watched as Y/n’s hands lingered at the center of his chest, “Of course,” he wanted to say more, but nothing seemed right.

By the time Y/n was finished, Keanu’s shirt hung onto his shoulders, open at the front, the scar on his abdomen barely having a pale shine in the white bedroom light. Still, she hung onto the hem, keeping Keanu close, and only then did they realize that it was going to be one of those nights. Outside, nature’s chaos reigned and in the distance, the harsh, crashing of waves against a rocker part of the shore added to the noise. “Why didn’t we work out?”

“Because,” Keanu began, shaking his head, placing his hands, over Y/n’s, stepping closer, “We’re no good together.” Closing his eyes, it was easy to recall how their relationship had dissolved; he was always travelling for work and Y/n wasn’t willing to commit to shifting from place to place. They never fought about it though, other things, sure, but never about that; they loved each other too much to ask the other to change.

Y/n’s smile faltered and her eyes shone with unshed emotion, “I know,” her voice broke and Keanu moved his hands to wrap his arms around her, “But you know I still love you.”

“I still love you too,” Keanu assured Y/n, leaning down to connect his lips with hers. She tasted the same way she always did; sweet and like everything good in the world.

Slowly, Y/n finally pushed Keanu’s shirt off, letting it join his jacket on the floor. Her lithe fingers undid the button and zipper of his jeans, and as if on cue, a startling flash of lightening brightened the room before taking the elctricty as it vanished. She might have jumped, or yelped in surprise, but standing there with Keanu, Y/n barely noticed until the room was in complete darkness; she always felt safest in his arms.

"Do you want me to check the breaker?" Keanu mumbled against Y/n’s lips, the words getting lost in their kiss.

“Maybe later,” she objected softly, her hands now cupping the base of Keanu’s jaw, gently pulling him along as she slowly walked backwards to her bed. “I’ve missed you,” her words were a whisper, and before they laid back, Keanu helped her pull the sweatshirt over her head, letting it fall off the side of the mattress.

Slowly, Keanu peeled of her pants, letting them join the rest of clothes. He hovered over her, bending lower to kiss Y/n again, “Yeah,” he smiled, though it was hard to see in in the darkness, “I’ve missed you too.” His lingering kisses travelled down to Y/n’s jaw and she eventually helped him out of his undone pants and boxers.

Y/n hadn’t been wearing a bra, and Keanu’s hand; stationed at her back, holding her to him, roamed freely as he kissed her neck. Her back arched, needing for his touch, her hips raising now and then to tease his.

Eventually, Y/n’s legs wound around Keanu’s waist and between soft kisses and breathy sighs, they rolled over so they were laying on their sides, face to face, connected by tangled limbs. When Y/n tried to shimmy out of her panties and Keanu attempted to help her, his stocky fingers shoving them down, she giggled quietly until the flimsy material got lost in the sea of Egyptian cotton.

Keanu’s rough hand caressed Y/n’s back, sending shivers down her spine. Likewise, when Y/n’s curled toes brushed Keanu’s calf; so feather light, he sucked in a sharp breath. In the dark, they tried to match their gazes, barely managing. Though, Y/n didn't need to see it in his eyes to know what Keanu was saying with them. They said the same thing they always did when they were together; that he thought her beauty was incomparable, that he loved her with everything in him and that he'd spend the rest of his life showing her if he could.

Keanu's hand moved from her back to ghost the outline of Y/n's face, his thumb grazing her plump lips, lingering for a few seconds when she kissed it. Her body was one he had committed to memory; Keanu knew every curve and crevice, he adored every scar, loved everything that she saw as an imperfection and when he thought of word beauty, Y/n was how he defined it.

When his calloused palm neared her hip, Keanu moved his hand to line his up with her slick entrance, his tip edging her, raising goosebumps on Y/n's skin. When he entered her fully, Keanu swallowed up Y/n's moan in a passionate kiss and she closed her eyes, both at the feeling of him stretching her and at all that he tried to communicate to her by his lips on hers.

Still joined at the mouths, between intervals of his tongue massaging hers and Y/n gently nibbling of Keanu's lower lip, he started up a series of slow, controlled thrusts. His free hand cradled her neck, just under Y/n's jaw and she kept Keanu close with her arms wound around, at his back. Y/n’s fingers were almost cold on his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of her chest pressed to his.

Y/n could feel everything; every vein brushing against her slick walls, how his head hit her sweet spot perfectly every time he pushed into her and the way his generous girth stretched her tightness. The friction was unmatched.

When they broke for air, Keanu pressed his face to Y/n, and nose to nose, they moved in sync, Y/n’s hips eventually rolling to meet his sooner. Her breathing was shallow, and eventually, Keanu could have sworn that her breathy sighs were interrupted by a hitch in her throat. He knew he wasn’t imagining things when Y/n’s fingers tightened near his shoulders and he tasted the distinct saltiness of her silent tears.

Quelling his own emotions, Keanu’s thrusts harshened, but only slightly and the hand at her neck travelled to her loose hair, his fingers lacing with her silky tresses, tangling them as he tried to bring Y/n’s face even closer to his own, swallowing tightly before kissing her again, that time harder than before, as if to tell her that he was sorry that things were the way that they were, that if he had his way, they’d have more than just that night.

They shared short, ragged breaths and despite the chill brought on by the rain and the ceiling fan, a warmth surrounded them. “Keanu,” she whimpered, her legs tightening around his hips, squeezing them together, making Keanu’s movements more rigid and lengthily, prolonging their connection.

His hand supporting Y/n’s back slipped lower, groping her behind, the firm flesh soft in his palm as he praised, “You’re so beautiful baby, you’re so perfect,” through gritted teeth, Keanu continued, his rough bread tickling the corners of Y/n’s lips, “You’re everything Y/n.”

Y/n moaned and whimpered, her eyes screwed shut from the ecstasy of it, his praises only bringing her nearer to her climax, “I love you,” her voice breathy and hoarse, “Keanu....Oh fuck......”

Y/n’s orgasm came, clenching around him, her legs shaking. She bent her head slightly to bury in in Keanu's neck, hanging onto him as she moaned loudly when the heat spilled out of her, coating their thighs.

Groaning at how she tightened around him, Keanu's movements became more rigid and he pressed his face to the top of Y/n’s head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. He could feel how her heartbeat quickened, matching the rapid thumping of his own. It had been a while since they were together like that, maybe about three or four months but Keanu easily realized that everything he remembered from the last time wasn't exaggerated; the warmth and softness of her skin, how she took him so well, the musical sounds she made when she came around him. How it felt like his soul was connected to hers, like they were one, the way it was meant to be.

Even as he rode out her high, Y/n legs stayed around him, though her grip was a bit weaker. "I want to feel you inside me," she breathed, her chest still raising and falling with heavy breaths, "Come inside me Keanu," Y/n urged.

“Fuck,” he hissed, breathless, his face pressed into her tangled hair as he shot his hot release inside of her. He breathed heavily and Y/n mewled at the feeling of Keanu’s member twitching, buried between her legs.

When it was over, and he pulled out, Keanu still held Y/n close, his thumb brushing away moisture from her cheeks; he didn’t have to ask what was wrong, he knew, it was the same thing that was always wrong. They laid, unspeaking and eventually, Keanu rolled onto his back, gathering Y/n half onto his bare chest, her ear resting over his heartbeat. Words weren’t exchanged between them, as they opted to lay in a silence that was only filled by sounds made by the storm raging outside. Neither Keanu nor Y/n knew who fell asleep first, but they had both been up late past midnight, dwelling in a swirling pool of despair; knowing that whatever they were may never change but still holding onto the painful hope that it could.

By eleven am the next morning, the winds had significantly slowed, the thunder and lightening became rarer, heavy rains had subsided, morphing into a moderate drizzle and the power had been restored. There hadn’t been any great damage to houses in the community, with the worst in most cases being a broken branch. Lawns were heavily saturated and the smell of rain still clung to the air.

At Y/n’s house, the impact was minimal and when the news had signaled that the roads were safe for travel and that there were no signs of a resurgence, Keanu had gotten ready to leave after coffee. Not touching but with barely any distance between them, Y/n and Keanu strolled towards her front door.

As they stood on the front porch, his car not too far off in her driveway, they lingered there, face to face, lacing their fingers together. The scene was familiar and Y/n felt the same way she always did when they were parting; as if she were letting part of herself go. She knew it was best, and that what they shared might never be enough for either of them, but it still hurt, the same way it usually did.

“I should go,” Keanu determined, though really, he didn’t want to leave. It hurt every time, knowing that Y/n was the woman he had longed for, the one he wished to call his, but there was nothing he could do about it. She didn’t want long distance phone dates and travelling several times a year; she wanted to settle down, live the simple, quiet life. But Keanu couldn’t do that, and he couldn’t ask her to change her dreams either.

With shining eyes, she nodded and after a deep breath, Y/n agreed, “You should.” Her lips quivered, as if she wanted to say more, she longed to actually; tell him how every time they separated it chipped off another shard of her heart, how she wanted him, just him, not the glitz and glamor, it was never the life for her, and if she could find the courage to change herself, be the woman who could do it for him, she would. But she couldn’t say those things, because it would all be for nothing, so instead, Y/n stood on her toes, pecking Keanu’s cheek, hoping that the ounce of intimacy could hold her off until they saw each other again, “Drive safe, okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiled softly, emotion pinching at his chocolate eyes, “I will,” Keanu nodded, “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” she sniffled as Keanu retracted his hand. Biting her lip in an attempt to not break down, Y/n watched as he walked away, getting into his car and backing out of her driveway. She stood there, blinking back tears as he drove off with one final wave, disappearing as he bent the corner.

When Keanu was gone, Y/n hurried back into her house, pressing her back against the stained glass door. As she slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands, Y/n’s breath caught and quiet tears turned into shaking sobs. Her chest felt tight and her heart ached; she could never understand why they kept doing it, but Y/n knew that a life that Keanu wasn't part of, wasn't one she could bare, especially after he had been a constant for the past five years. Y/n loved Keanu, more than she thought was possible; he was the man she wanted to build a home and a family with, the first person she thought of when someone mentioned having a soulmate, even if she didn't believe in them. She never needed him, Y/n never needed anyone, before him, on a night like the stormy one that had passed, she would have been inclined to resign to bed early, after a couple glasses of wine, hoping to sleep through the whole thing. Y/n wasn’t someone than needed anyone, but she wanted Keanu.

Little did she know; just as Keanu had rounded the corner, when his car was safely out of sight, he had pulled over, his attempts to stay strong failing miserably as he ran his fingers through his hair, breath heaving, his heart broken. A chocked sob escaped his lips and warm tears came slowly. Smacking the steering wheel he swore loudly, "Fuck!" The whole situation was so messed up, and everytime they saw each other, it ended the same; Y/n would look just as broken as she did the night they walked away from each other and he'd start feeling the walls crumbling around him. Every time, Keanu would try to tell himself that it would be different, that enough time had passed and that they were over it, but it never was, and that morning despite his efforts, he couldn’t make the tears stop, the gut wrenching hurt was beyond his control.

Keanu and Y/n weren’t together, but they’d always be painfully involved.

*********

Tagging- @harrisongslimited

#Keanu reeves #Keanu reeves x reader #Keanu reeves x you #Keanu reeves fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #oneshot #ff #angst #imagine #Keanu reeves imagine #Keanu reeves oneshot #john wick oneshot #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #fluff #fanfiction #Keanu reeves fanfiction

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hookedonapirate · 5 years ago

Note

Daddy!kink prompt: I know it’s different than the verse a bit, but what if they didn’t know the other was into that kink? And one day one of them lets it slip? Maybe? I think it could be fun/you’re ridiculously talented and I know you could do it. Thanks!!!!

Oh Daddy Prompts

Summary: Office AU. Killian is Emma's boss, and after a Freudian slip of the tongue, very inappropriate office etiquette ensues ;)

A/N: This one-shot is not related to the original Oh Daddy verse, per request, and so this is a fresh setting entirely. I hope you don’t mind this is not an established relationship, Nonnie. If you’d prefer, I can totally write one where they are in a relationship.

I also paired this with another prompt from someone who sent their Oh daddy prompts via gifs. But I've only included one in this part and the rest of the gifs will be in another one-shot, probably used together if I can swing it.

Thank you @itsfabianadocarmo for the delicious banner above!

prompt gif 1

Other Oh Daddy Prompts: 1. You’re being an awfully bad girl l 2. Daddy, can you pass the potatoes? l 3. Better than coffee l 4. Caught In a solo act l 5. Naughty School Girl l 6. Busted l 7. Bless Me, Father I 8. Tell Me When to Grab the Cupcake I 9. Proving a Point

Rated: Explicit

Talk Dirty to Me

Emma has it bad for her boss. She’s been working at his firm for about a year now and has yet to gather the courage to admit her feelings for him. Instead, she keeps telling herself they should remain friendly but professional, and every day, she carries this huge lie on her shoulders, and every day, either he goes into her office to chat with her, or she goes to his, telling herself they’re just good friends and nothing more. She’ll sit on the edge of his desk and they’ll talk about whatever—work, the weather, and anything that comes up naturally in conversation. She’d like to think he feels the same for her—if the way his eyes light up when she enters his office or the smiles he graces her with are any indications. He also has this adorable habit of scratching behind his ear when he’s nervous, and yep he does that when he’s with her.

But if he feels the same way about her, then why hasn’t he said anything or asked her out? Is it because he wants to keep things professional? He’s her boss after all, and if he were seeing any of his other employees, she’d think it was creepy and wrong and unfair (and yes, she'd be insanely jealous), but somehow she doesn’t find it wrong to fantasize about him every night fucking her on his desk or in his chair. She’s not sure if his feelings are mutual, but she’s sure he would’ve said something if he really heard her and Ruby talking about him in the break room a few weeks ago while they were eating lunch from the cafe down the street.

Emma regrets the day she admitted to her foul-mouthed friend she has feelings for their boss because while Emma tries to forget (but miserably fails every single time) Ruby constantly reminds her.

“You know, Emma, I don’t understand why you don’t just march into Killian’s office, ride him in his chair like he belongs to you, and make him your Daddy.”

Emma also regrets the time she told Ruby about one of her fantasies which entailed Emma calling him Daddy as he fucked her.

“Hello, ladies,” Killian greeted cheerfully as he entered the break room and headed to the refrigerator.

Fuck.

Emma’s cheeks were on fucking fire, and as soon as Killian turned his back to open the fridge, she shot Ruby a scowl so deadly, she was surprised her friend didn’t burst into flames. Ruby just covered her mouth trying to choke down a laugh.

Thankfully, Killian said nothing and nuked up some leftovers he’d brought to work and left to eat in his office.

To this day, Emma still has no idea whether Killian overhead Ruby talking about him. If he did, he never said anything about it.

Emma’s busy running some insurance quotes for a potential client when she hears a tap on the door frame. She stops typing to look up at Killian as he stands in the doorway.

“Morning, Killian,” she greets, flashing a slight smile.

“Good morning, love. May I come in?”

Oh God, that smooth British accent, that silky voice always does things to her. She clenches her thighs together under her desk. “Yeah, of course.”

He offers a shy grin and walks over to her desk. “If you get a moment today, can you step into my office?”

Emma gulps. Something tells her he’s not inviting her into his office to shoot the breeze like they normally do. No, this sounds a bit more serious than that. She clears the frog from her throat. “Yeah, sure.”

“Great, I’ll see you then,” he says before turning around and leaving her office.

Well, that was disappointing. He didn't even start up a casual conversation like he usually does. And did he seriously just wink at her? What the hell is going on? Is he finally saying something about how Ruby spoke of him? Are they getting written up, or worse, are they getting fired?

But that was weeks ago.

Emma feels sick to her stomach and pales as she tries to continue with her tasks without constantly wondering what he wants to speak with her about. But she can’t stop worrying. So as soon as she finishes the mountain of work on her desk, she gets up and goes to Killian’s office, which is around the corner. The atmosphere is either very hectic at the end of the day, with people calling and requesting quotes or endorsements at the last minute, or quiet and laid back, and today it’s the latter. Jones Insurance Agency isn’t very big, but because it was just remodeled six months ago and in a prime location downtown, it does pretty well for a small insurance firm in an insignificant town like Storybrrooke.

Emma takes a deep breath, her hands shaking and her heart racing as she knocks on Killian’s door.

“Come in.”

Emma steps in and shuts the door behind her. Killian’s office has an enormous picture window with a stunning view of the sea, and she always loves gazing out the window on a sunny day or in the evening when the sun is setting. But truthfully, she loves gazing at the owner of said view, who is currently dressed down, with his jacket off, his sleeves rolled up, shirt untucked with the top three buttons undone, exposing some chest hair, and his tie loose around his neck.

“Hi, love,” Killian says sweetly as he drags a hand through his unruly hair before gathering some papers from his desk. “I wanted to go over these reports for tomorrow’s meeting.”

Emma sighs in relief, her heartbeat slowing a little as she rounds the desk and looks over his shoulder so she can see the papers he’s referring to.

“You can have a seat if you want, love,” he says, looking up at her.

“No, that’s okay, I’ve been sitting all day,” she laughs. “I’m good where I’m at.” In more ways than one. Even though it’s the end of the day, she can still smell his intoxicating cologne. He smells amazing.

“I won’t be here tomorrow morning, so I need you to lead the sales meeting tomorrow if you don’t mind of course.”

“Yes, I can do that,” she says with a smile.

“Brilliant,” he says appreciatively and goes over the usual topics covered in their meetings, like what their best experience with a client was that week and what was the worst. They always share stories and challenges and ways they can overcome certain challenges. Their jobs aren’t the most exciting—Killian is a Life Insurance agent and the owner of the firm and she’s a home insurance agent—but she has a feeling sex between them would be fantastic.

She changes her mind and takes her usual seat at the edge of his desk because she’s wearing heels and they’re killing her feet. He doesn’t seem to mind though as he discusses sales numbers and quarterly goals and other things she needs to know to lead the meeting tomorrow but honestly, she can’t focus on a word he’s saying because he’s so close to her and she’s watching those soft, sensual lips move as he speaks, watches the way his wet, sinful tongue sweeps across those lips as he flips to the next page.

She’s imagining all the things he can do to her with that tongue, imagines how good it would feel between her thighs. Emma crosses her legs, feeling herself growing wet at the thought and tries to shake away those sinful thoughts. She really shouldn’t be thinking about her boss in this way, but she can’t help it. She wants to ride him in his chair and fuck him until he cums. She wants to call him Daddy and tell him to fuck her until she can’t walk straight.

“These are some sticky areas, so we must focus on ways we can improve and hit our numbers for the month. I want our sales to be a hundred and ten percent.”

Emma’s mind is too far in the gutter at this point because it’s the end of the day, she’s tired and apparently she’s a giddy school girl all over again. “Oh Daddy, please talk dirty to me some more,” Emma giggles. She’s not sure why she says it; at first, she thinks she only imagined it, but the way Killian lifts his head and the way his pupils dilate, she realizes her mistake. And she called him Daddy!

Oh fuck.

She gasps, her eyes wide with horror. She’s definitely getting fired. She wishes she could crawl into a hole right now and be buried with her humiliation.

As she opens her mouth to apologize and give her resignation, Killian cocks a brow, a slight smirk hinting on his lips. “You better watch it, love, or Daddy will have to bend you over his desk and spank you,” he teases back.

Emma’s heartbeat shoots through the roof, her mouth parted as she gazes into those piercing blue eyes. So he’s in a playful mood today? Okay, that’s good. She can definitely work with this. Pressing her palms into the desk, she leans in closer to him and murmurs, “How do you know I don’t like being spanked?”

Killian’s mouth opens, his tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek. God, he’s sexy when he does that. Her panties are fucking soaked.

“I had a feeling what Ruby said that day in the break room was true,” he says cockily, tilting his head.

Emma’s brows climb her forehead, pure shock washing over her. “You heard that?”

He nods. “Aye.”

Her stomach drops. “I’m sorry about that. Ruby has no filter.”

Killian chuckles, breaking through Emma’s walls of embarrassment. The sound eases her nerves a bit. “I’m not mad about Ruby’s comments, more like intrigued actually.”

“What?” On one hand, Emma’s completely relieved he didn’t fire her or Ruby even though he overheard their conversation, but on the other hand, it’s still embarrassing having her boss overhear a private conversation she had with Ruby, especially since it involved him.

“I’m attracted to you, Emma, if you couldn’t already tell,” he admits sheepishly, his eyes locked with hers as he scratches behind his ear.

“Oh...” Emma’s not sure how to respond that. After all this time he felt as she did? She’d wanted to believe it was true but didn’t know if it were all in her head or if she had gauged the situation correctly. “I, um—”

“I would never do anything to make you uncomfortable, Emma, but if you want to—”

“Oh I want to,” Emma blurts out, cutting him off.

“Thank Gods.” Killian throws the papers on the desk and reaches over, slides his hands into her hair and tugs her to him, his lips crashing against hers so suddenly and roughly, she’d fall over if he weren’t holding her so securely. Her fingers assault his hair, tugging fistfuls of dark locks in her hands. She climbs him like a tree and straddles his lap, grinding into him, feeling how hard he already is through his navy blue slacks. It’s so fucking hot, Emma works her hips faster into him, wanting so much more, her heels sliding off her feet and onto the floor with two clunks.

“If you wanted me, you just had to say so, baby,” he growls against her lips, his breath completely wrecked and ragged.

“Killian...” she whispers as her fingers untangle from his hair so she can work on unbuttoning his dress shirt. “I’ve had so many dreams about this, Daddy.” Emma’s fingers are trembling but moving quickly as she desperately undoes the last few buttons and presses a trail of kisses down his chest through his feather-soft chest hair he always hides underneath his shirt.

Killian groans and she peels her mouth away from him so he can lift her silk blouse over her head and toss it to the floor, revealing her black-laced bra.

“Me too, baby.” He kisses down her neck and cups her breasts in his hands. “Every time I see you, I wonder how good your cunt would feel around my cock.”

Emma moans as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her to him and kissing the tops of her breasts, his lips brushing over the soft fabric. She combs her hands through his hair and pays no mind when her bra straps fall from her shoulders, too focused on how warm and decadent Killian's lips and mouth feel as he marks her skin.

“I always think about you fucking me, Daddy.” She tilts her head back as he kisses the valley of her breasts, burying his face there, the dark scruff on his chin scratching her smooth skin. God, he feels good right there, just worshipping her breasts like he's never seen a pair of boobs before. And she's still wearing a bra.

“Bloody hell, that’s the best thing I’ve heard in my entire life,” he groans and unclasps her bra. “You should write poetry, love.”

Emma laughs through her lust-fueled fog, her cheeks warm with blush as he pulls off her bra and adds it to the pile on the floor.

His eyes darken with lust as he drinks in her bare breasts, pink nipples tightening under his hungry gaze. “You’re so perfect and beautiful,” he whispers against her skin before taking a hard nipple in his soft, warm mouth.

She moans, pressing herself into him as he sucks and nips and licks her breasts and nipples to his heart’s content, telling her how good she tastes and how good she feels in his hands. Emma shudders and closes her eyes, relishing the treatment. She loves being in his hands. His hands make her feel like a freaking goddess.

When he releases her nipples, he captures her mouth with his and she rolls her hips into him, wanting his cock inside her. Bad. But her skirt is impeding their activities so she raises her hips inviting him to push the offending fabric above her waist. He does so quickly and moves her panties aside, feeling how incredibly soaked she is.

He groans and mutters a slew of dirty curses as he slides his fingers inside her slit. “Gods... you’re so fucking wet for me. If only you knew all the things I want to do to you, baby girl.”

“Next time, Daddy,” she rasps, unzipping his pants and pulling out his manhood, trying not to think too much about what her words imply.

She whimpers as his thick, rock hard cock aches in her hand. He feels so fucking good in her palm; she can only imagine how incredible he’ll feel inside her.

“Aye,” he agrees with a throaty groan while she’s stroking him and rubbing the head of his dick against her wet folds. His eyes roll back into his head and he has to force his trembling hands to retrieve his wallet from the desk drawer.

After he finds a condom, Emma rolls it over his pulsating cock, loving how every ridge of him feels in her palm.

“You still want to do this?” He asks, searching her eyes for approval.

She smirks, not a trace of doubt in her eyes. “A hundred and ten percent.”

He chuckles and wraps his hands around her hips.

She clutches onto his shoulders, sinking slowly onto his cock, watching Killian’s face contort in pleasure as she becomes wonderfully seated in his lap. He fills her up so perfectly.

Tightening her grip on his shoulders, she lifts her hips up and down, up and down, up and down, falling into a steady rhythm. She can’t believe after all this time, she’s making love to her boss, in his office of all places. With all her colleagues outside the door. With the window big and wide, looking out over the sea. She wonders if anyone can hear them.

“Bloody fuck, Emma...” Killian breathes as he peers down, watching as his cock slides in and out of her slick pussy.

“You feel so good, Daddy,” she rasps, barely keeping herself together.

“Not as good as you do, love. Your pussy is so tight and perfect. Even better than I imagined.”

“Fuck.” Moving one of her hands to his hair, she tugs his head back slightly so she can kiss him while she rides his cock, her nipples rubbing against his chest hair. She swallows the delicious groan he offers when their tongues connect so perfectly, she knows she won’t last much longer. “I’m close, Daddy,” she moans against his lips.

“Come, baby girl. I wanna feel you squeeze my cock.”

“Oh my God.” Her entire body spasms as her orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her walls clamping around him. “Oh, Daddy,” she cries out as quietly as she can.

He holds her tight as his own orgasm rips through his entire body. He groans and sinks his teeth into her shoulder as he cums. After a few more thrusts, they still, and Emma slumps into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, his heart pounding against hers.

“That was amazing,” she mumbles against his skin.

“You’re so fucking incredible.”

Emma lifts her head, still trying to gather her wits and steady her breathing. His cheeks are all rose-colored and so incredibly adorable. “Just to be clear, this won’t affect my next permanence review, right? I want to do well, but not because I’m riding you in your office.”

He furrows his brows, regarding her with a serious expression. “Of course, not. That would be bad form, love. But you’re already my best agent so this won’t change a thing. You have my word.”

She flashes a weak smile. “Good.”

“So, you want there to be a next time?” He asks with a hopeful glint in his eyes, bringing up her earlier statement.

She doesn’t answer him with words at first, but she’s hoping the smirk and the slow, tender kiss she offers him says it all. Before she peels herself off his lap, she whispers in his ear, just in case he didn’t get the message. “Oh Daddy, there will definitely be a next time.”

Tagging some lovelies who have shown interest in the sneak peek or previous Oh Daddy on-shots. Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed:

@itsfabianadocarmo @onceuponaprincessworld @teamhook @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @artistic-writer @ultraluckycatnd @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones @captainswan-shipper88 @cluttermind @hallway5 @swanlovato @xsajx @jamif @biefaless @kday426 @hails-paige @asiamarie5 @qualitycoffeethings @mikeythegeek @idristardis @have-a-little-faith

#cs ff #captain swan #cs smut #oh daddy prompts

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spac3bar7end3r · 4 years ago

Text

Tell Me That I'll Be Alright

Modern Wizarding World, Draco Stays in Muggle Part, Pre-relationship, Short fic, potion master Draco, auror Harry

For the prompt: “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?”

2873 words

read on Ao3

‘For today's weather, the wind is calm. It will be sunny throughout the day. There is a chance of a little reunion happening. The person you don’t expect to see will walk through your door. It’s your choice to decide to close the door or open it once more.’

Luna’s message is cryptic. She is always cryptic, that’s for sure. But today’s message seems specific in a vague way (how can that be?) Normally it would be something like: your lucky person is the man who wears green, or something similar to that.

He loves it though, and it sells well both for muggles and in the wizarding world. It’s Luna’s own business, sending daily cryptic texts to subscribers. He once saw a muggle who has religiously studied her texts like verses in the bible.

If Luna said, he’s going to have a reunion today then so be it. Let’s hope it is not someone who wants to kill him. The weather is too good for a sparring today.

Draco Malfoy put his phone back in his pocket and locks his flat’s door before checking the time on his mobile phone. The young wizard smiles to himself. He has more spare time before work than usual.

He put his keys in his the other side of his pants’ pocket. The sound of the keys jingling echoes through the hallway. He looked up to nod at one of his old neighbour who is also going out of their resident. Draco smiles back when the other sends a smile his way like he always does.

He hums to himself while walking down the street. Maybe today is a great day to order coffee from the shop across the street. He deserves it. He has time to indulge himself in muggles’ fancy drinks (and he will!).

Draco orders a hot latte and a plain bagel. He smiles to the barista with a familiar face. Draco sees this bloke a lot when he becomes this shop’s regular (His first time here was a bit embarrassing because he cannot pronounce macchiato. What a dumb word.) The barista smiles flirtatiously, but Draco pretends like he doesn’t see it. He takes an effort to make small talk and puts the tips in a jar then goes out with his drinks and heavenly-smelled bagel in hands.

He unlocks the door when he reaches his office the muggle way, opening it and waves his hand, sending his scarf flying to the coat rack next to the door. The Closed sign hanging on the door flips itself and now showing Open instead. He turns on the light and the wireless before throwing his body on his chair. The smell of hot coffee and the gently sound of muggle’s music makes him feel lively for a second but then his mood shifts when Draco notices a letter on his desk, his brows furrowed at the pretentious, ugly wax seal and the department behind the symbol of the seal.

Comparing to the first time he received a letter from Hogwarts, this is like a 180 change. It is a letter from Gawain bloody Robards.

‘Dear Potion Master Draco Malfoy,’ written the letter, and Draco has to look up from the letter to sneer with himself for dramatic purpose.

And then he continues:

‘The Department of the Auror of the Ministry of Magic urgently needs your expertise on an important case since we believe your skills and knowledge will assist our works tremendously. We will send one of our officers to your office tomorrow. He will tell you all about the case.

We hope you will regard us in the same way that the Ministry has been regarding and assisting the Malfoy family. I believe it is quite a crucial time for us to support each other for the best of the wizarding world in this time and age.

Warm Regards,

Gawain Robards

Head Auror’

“Warm regards my arse.” Draco quickly looks through the content of the letter then throws the paper to the fire without care. He picks his coffee up and drinks, his mood now soiled. Since the letter was sent to him yesterday (Draco guesses it must be right after him getting out of his office. Robards is sly like that. That prat might have sent it knowing Draco wouldn’t be able to reject it in time.

Then that means ‘one of the officers’ is going to turn up here sooner or later. Draco takes a deep breath, not sure if he can school his expression well when seeing the people from the ministry. Those bastards always sneer at him because of the former Death Eater thing. Of course, Draco sneers back, but it doesn’t mean—

A sound of someone opening the door interrupts his thoughts. Draco lowers the volume of the music then looks at the visitor.

“Welcome—” Draco says to his potential customer but his voice cracks at the end. His gazes fixed on the person who just enters who looks as surprised as Draco (or maybe more).

It’s Potter.

‘The person you don’t expect to see will walk through your door.’ Luna’s message rings in his head. He stares openly at the figure standing at his door.

It’s Potter.

Of course, it’s Harry Potter. Why not?

“Malfoy, you’re wearing a beanie.” Potter blurts out with wide eyes. Draco raises his eyebrows, touching his beanie consciously then he looks at himself from head to toe: Graphic shirt with top buttons undone, muggle jeans and Doc Marten boots. Pansy called it ‘A typical, Hipster Muggle Look.’

Seven years since the war and this is what this blunt prat decided to say to his old classmate? Draco decides to also look at Potter thoroughly. Potter is not the only one who has eyes. He looks at The Gryffindor’s dirty boots, his old jeans that have more tears than to be a fashion statement, his dark blue t-shirt and a dark jacket in his hands… The outfit screams Potter the War Hero that he’s seen before on papers (except his body that well… fitter, more muscle on his body than when he was a gangly kid — but this is not what he should scrutinise at the moment, isn’t it?)

“Yes, I’m aware, Potter. Since it is on my head and all. Your point?”

“I thought the potion master has to be like—”

“Like what? Snape? Slughorn? Potter, need I remind you that this is 2019? Do you think that a potion master has to wear a robe, putting a cauldron in the centre of their workplace and still use owls to contact each other? Please, only people at the ministry do that. Tell them to email me next time.”

“But the ministry recommended you. I thought it would be an old bloke wearing a robe, acting like a ministry agent or something.” Potter explains, “Your manner is still kinda the same, though.”

“I’d bite my own tongue before I behave like those old bastards.”

“I think the current you is quite nice. I, er, I mean, I prefer you than those wizards and witches.”

Potter stammers and Draco tries not to overthink what the other said.

He tries to channel the old Draco Malfoy from his school years, chin up and all, “Actually I thought the ministry wouldn’t really want to ask me,” He twists his lips, directing a cocky smile at Potter, “But I guess they have no choice. I am an exceptional potion master, and they can’t get rid of my pretty face even if they want to.”

Potter has a small smile at the corner of his lips “I guess that’s true.”

Draco doesn’t know which part that Potter agreed with him. Potter is playing with the hem of his shirt awkwardly and just stands at the door. Draco coughs, waving the auror to his desk.

“Nice to reacquaint, Potter.” Draco looks directly into the green eyes. The ones that he’s never thought he would be able to have a chance to stare at again. “Put your jacket on the rack and come sit here.” He points to the chair at the other side of his desk before getting up and brewing tea for his old rival.

* * *

‘It’s your choice to decide to close the door or open it once more.’

Draco’s mind dwells on Luna’s words. What does that even mean? If her random prediction is accurate, then it means Draco needs to do something about…this? What is this anyway? And has he ever open the door to Potter, to begin with?

“You don’t look surprised to see me,” Potter says while he lightly puts the teacup on Draco’s desk.

“And what face do you want to see? I’ve lived around muggles for seven years, Potter. I guess I am great at feigning nonchalant to surprising shits now.” Draco thinks of all the weird muggle stuff he has encountered over the years.

“…”

“So are we going to talk about the ‘important case’ that Robards mentioned in the letter now?” Draco raises his eyebrow. Potter nods, swallowing before he grabs something from his pants pocket.

“We found this in the belongings of a squib in a muggle part of London. We have to work together with the muggle police. They think it was some kind of drug, but we also think it also has some kind of magic properties.” He puts the tiny bottle on Draco’s desk.

“Is there anybody at the ministry—”

“It seems like some chemical that the muggle seems to know of a lot. I heard you—"

“Doing research on muggle drugs and potion-making. Yes, I was. Did they drink this or inject themselves with it?” Draco opens the bottle and lightly smells the transparent liquid inside. They are not that different from the bottle of pure water.

“They drank it. The symptom is a daydreaming-like behaviour, but we also have one frozen wizard who looks like he was cast with the Full Body-Bind Curse. We still have not found a permanent cure for these symptoms.”

Draco nods, opening his top drawer and grabs the notepad. He jots down something quickly as if he’s afraid of forgetting it.

“I am well-acquainted with a muggle who’s in law enforcement. I could find some more details without unnecessary paperwork. Oh, but if you have any important details like the locations, other noticeable symptoms, forward it to me directly via email.” Draco grabs his phone and sends a text to said muggle before he forgets. He doesn’t want to contact this bloke without unnecessary because no matter how useful it is, this muggle is quite clingy, but he also wants to get rid of Potter as soon as possible.

He looks up to find Potter staring at his fingers. Draco stops, tilting his head as if asking a silent question when Potter notices him stopping.

“Uh, I, just, I’m not used to you using muggle stuff.” Potter coughs, blushing. “You even used emoji.” Potter nods towards Draco’s fingers, and with a small voice, he adds, “Is that an eggplant emoji? You used eggplant emoji? To that muggle?”

“Those were old texts.” Draco doesn’t know why he needs to quickly explain that to Potter (Lie. He actually knows why.) He puts down his phone and continues, “I might be able to find a cure. Maybe in two or three days. Do you want me sending the report or just—”

“I can come here for that.” Potter interrupts.

“Good. Because I hate having to getting in touch with the wizardry world.” Draco smiles darkly.

Potter slowly nods before looking around the office, looking for another topic to talk about.

“Nice office.”

“Thanks. I didn’t want the old-fashioned potion master vibe, so I tried to match it with the surrounding.” Draco nods towards the scenery outside the window.

“How is it here? I want to come here a few times but haven’t had a chance.”

“It’s alright. If you want some hipster muggle stuff, you’d like it here. You already have the look for it, I guess.” Draco raises his eyebrow at the auror.

Potter laughs, saying “Luna will absolutely love this place. I also notice a shop selling plants here. I’ll have to tell Neville about it.”

Draco smiles. “I contact Longbottom from time to time. I remembered he did research on some magical plants. He’s doing business now or…?”

“Yes, still about plants though.” Potter smiles. “I’m living in the same flat with him, and his plants.”

“You’re living with Longbottom? In Fulham? I thought you live in House Black’s house or with Weasley—”

“That was six years ago.” Potter interrupts.

Draco thought he became immune to surprising shits now that he’s getting older, but it seems like he still reacts the same way when it is concerning Potter. He raises one of his eyebrows, slowly taking a peek at Potter’s left hand—the part where he tries so hard not to stare since Potter has stepped inside.

However, there is no object that he’s scared to see. No ring. No wedding ring.

He thought Potter would have a happy ending after the war. Having a bunch of kids and living in a big house.

But it’s not like that. Potter’s eyes look sad. They seem like he saw something, even after the war. Something is hidden behind his green’s eyes that Draco doesn’t know what it is.

“So you’re single right now?”

“Yeah, I thought everyone knows that. The Daily Prophet and other editorials always write about my relationships like their lives depend on it. Witches Weekly also does that, putting me in a bachelor list every month or two.”

“Congrats on getting to be on the list, Scarhead. Unfortunately, I don’t get to see your mug on the papers since I don’t read wizard papers anymore because they are shit. Well, except the Quibbler. Luna is great at her job.”

“True.” Potter smiles lightly, “Do you subscribe to her daily prediction? I got an interesting text today.”

“I do, and yes, it was quite interesting.”

“Do we get the same text? How many people does she send it to? Is it randomised or something?”

“I don’t know. What’s yours say?”

“It says ‘don’t hesitate to go through the door.’ I don’t know what that means.”

“‘It’s your choice to close or open the door.’ is what I got.”

Potter raises his eyebrows. He swallows slowly and says, “And you, are you seeing anyone?” Potter asks, and Merlin, Draco hopes that it is a real hope glinting in Potter’s green eyes and it’s not just Draco’s hopeless desire projecting his old feeling from his unrequited crush during Hogwarts years. (Yes, at least Draco is brave to admit that now. Plus, He’s good at Occlumency. Even if Potter’s learned Legilimency, he still wouldn’t get a glimpse. Draco is that good.)

“No…” Draco answers slowly, processing his thought.

“What about that Eggplant Emoji muggle?”

“Merlin’s sake, Potter. That was a text from months ago.” Draco rolls his eyes.

“Good.” Potter nods. “Good.”

“What were we talking about before? Right, work. Case. Potion.” Draco gets gloomy a little when his mind returns to this annoying task (but it actually got less annoying the moment he realised who he gets to work with.)

“Right. I may need more pieces of evidence for the case, and if I find something new—”

“Like I said, email me or text me.”

“Do I need to include emoji in my message?” Potter grins jokingly.

“If you want,” Draco answers with a challenging smile. Potter’s dark skin flushed a little. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, but then he closes it again.

“Well, if it’s not urgent then you can tell me when you come to get a better cure for the victims in three days.”

“Alright. Cheers.”

“We can do it over lunch. So I can introduce you to the street here. I’m sure you’ll like Dalston.”

“Fantastic. I’ve never refused when it comes to food.” Potter grins. “That settles it then. See you in three days. Cheers.”

“I’ll text you the restaurant’s name.”

“Brilliant. See you.”

Potter stands up from the chair. He walks to his coat hanging by the door and puts it on. The sound of the doorbell chiming rings around the office when the auror opens the door.

Apart from that messy dark hair, Draco notices Potter still has awkward habits he did in Hogwarts, like the way he walks, or the expression he made when he’s embarrassed.

Before the door closes, Draco shouts at the top of his lungs, “It’s a date, Potter!”

Potter splutters, face blushing. However, the auror nods enthusiastically, agreeing. He waves awkwardly like he doesn’t know what to do with his hand then quickly leaves.

Draco Malfoy smirks. He stands up and looks at the back of the auror who’s vanishing in thin air a second later.

‘It’s your choice to decide to close the door or open it once more.’

Draco made his choice. It’s depended on Potter now whether he will enter Draco’s open door or not.

Draco hopes he will.

Spoiler Alert: Yes, Harry will definitely enter the door. No hesitation.

And it doesn’t’ have anything to do with Luna’s prediction.

#sbdrarryfic #drarry #drarry fic #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #my fic #spacebartenderfic

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drrameyfanpage · 6 years ago

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Just a Walk in the Park: Chapter 2

I was hoping to get this posted sooner but this week has been a awful. Thanks to everyone who liked the first chapter!

Chapter 2:

“Oh no.” Jackie said getting off the couch and coming over to Alexandra.

“What?” She asked worried. Had she somehow figured out she was with Ethan?

“I would let that slide going to work, but you went out on your day off in that?” Jackie pointed at the black rain jacket.

Crap, she had forgotten to give him back his jacket. “Uh, it’s cozy.”

“Cozy can be cute. That is dull.” Jackie eyed the large fitting jacket. “The first day off we have together, we’re going shopping.”

“I like this.” Alexandra protested.

Jackie gave her look before going back to the couch. “What did you do today anyway? It’s not like it even looks like it’s going to rain.”

“I went for a walk. I wanted to see the neighborhood.”

“You went for a walk? We don’t exactly live in the prettiest place.” Jackie stared at her wide eyed.

She shrugged and slipped off to her room. The rest of her day past and before she knew it, it was the next morning and she was staring at Ethan’s jacket hung up in her closet. She could hear the rain outside and really she had no other coat appropriate for rain.

She pulled it off the hanger and slipped into it. The sleeves slipped over her hands and the jacket fell to about mid-thigh, it would keep her dry. She also couldn’t help to notice it still smelled like him and that made her blush.

“About time.” Jackie said slipping off a bar stool.

“Why didn’t I think to bring a good rain jacket?” Sienna looked over Alexandra.

“Because you have fashion sense.” Jackie said slipping into a formfitting purple rain coat.

The morning was busy and she had yet to see Ethan. She wasn’t sure how to act around him or how he would act. She decided to let him lead and go off his actions.

The morning only got busier and by afternoon, she was ready to sit down, if only for a minute. There was no time for that though, so she leaned against the elevator wall and closed her eyes. The elevator dinged on the first floor and she didn’t bother to open her eyes, she didn’t want to do small talk at the moment with whoever was getting on.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Ethan said in a smooth low voice in her ear, sending shivers down her spin.

She turned towards him and open her eyes. He surprised her at how close he was standing. Ethan grinned at her and she took in his appearance. His hair was wet and slightly out of place and his suit coat and matching pants also looked damp.

For a moment she was speechless. If she allowed herself to admit it, yesterday he had looked sinfully good with the top two buttons undone at the collar of his fitted button down. Today though in a full suit he looked delicious.

She swallowed. “I have it my locker.”

“I imagine you must have worn it here with all the rain. Keep it until it’s sunny again.”

“You clearly got rained on.” She pointed out.

“Nothing too bad. Besides I’m just going from the building to the car garage.”

“If you’re sure.” He nodded and turned from her to lean against the wall with her. She glanced at him. “Long day?”

He hummed. “I had meetings at another hospital across the city all morning.”

“Oh, why?”

“Chief Emery though it was important for me to see how they structure their team.” He sounded annoyed.

“You were second in command here, it’s clear you would have an understanding of it already.”

He gave her a look as if to say you’re telling me. Ethan got quiet as he thought about it all. The elevator stopped on his floor and pushed away from the wall. “We’ll talk later.”

She looked over him as he walked away before the doors shut. She closed her eyes again. She was in trouble.

They wouldn’t have the chance to talk or even really see each other. She was filling out the last of her paperwork with Jackie at the nurse’s station when he walked by on his way out for the day. They made brief eye contact, but he said nothing as he passed.

After a few minutes Jackie spoke up, “He’s a down right ass but I wouldn’t mind a piece of his ass.”

Alexandra snapped her head up to look at her. “What?”

“Dr. Ramsey, walks around like he’s all high and mighty, but damn if ain’t something too good to look at.”

“You said it.” The nurse who was typing at a computer said. “Don’t get your hopes up though. I’ve seen my fair share of nurse and doctors hoping to have a chance with him.”

“I bet he could be persuaded.” Jackie laughed.

“I doubt it.” The nurse said wheeling in her computer chair over to them. “Even as an intern he wasn’t into sleeping around. Rumor is though about year and half before Emery took the chief position they might have had something going on. Then…” She trailed off.

“Then what?” Jackie asked leaning over the desk between them.

“Things got nasty between them. They definitely don’t have the working relationship they did before the spot for chief became open.” The nurse rolled back to computer.

“Never mind.” Jackie said. “I’m not going to even try if Chief Emery was involved with him. Still good to look at though.”

Alexandra didn’t like people were gossiping at Ethan. It wasn’t their business and yet she couldn’t help but to wonder about the fallout between Emery and him. She also wasn’t sure what to make of the jealous feelings that seemed to want to surface.

#choices open heart #dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey x mc #choices open heart fanfic #justawalkinthepark #choices you play

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jkstories · 6 years ago

Text

cold blooded I 3

pairing: jungkook x reader

powers!au, fluff

summary: you live in a different world. Fear is as normal as the sun in the sky due to Daleus, this cold blooded creatures who can be right next to you as your classmate or can as well be your mother and there’s no way you know it.

One last package was what stooped you from getting home. One last package to deliver and then you were free to go home but it wasn’t your plan to find Jungkook, your childhood friend, at the place of the delivery.

- Hi Jungkook.

- Long time no see babe.

The pet names. Fuck. How you loved them. Jungkook turned out to be a flirty type of guy, who can’t stop talking about how pretty you were, and sending you stupid messages for your mom.

But you still missed him. You missed him so fucking much. He’s been away half of the summer so he could visit his parents and not seeing that beautiful face for 1 month was hard.

That flirty guy went away for 5 seconds and the real Jungkook gave you a hug. The hug you needed for a couple of weeks now.

You were a mess.

You finally got a part-time job so you were busy all the time and the time you could spent with your family was bad. But like hell. And Jungkook knew that, that’s why he came as soon as possible.

You quickly felt warm and loved, and you knew Jungkook felt the same because he only let you go of his arms after a couple of time.

“Then, let’s lunch?”

“I just ate breakfast but we can still go” you stood back so you could grab your leather jacket from the hanger.

Jungkook seemed prettier. He looked tanner and his hair was darker than before, and you seem to like it. A lot.

“Yeah, you are lying” Jungkook helped you dressing the jacket and closed the door behind you.

“Why you say that?” you both walked through the hallway passing by your parents bedroom.

“You would never pass through your mirror and not notice your hair. Not that you need to see your hair to eat but…”

“I’m off for now mom, love you” You yelled already at the front door “I’m sorry if I like to sleep until-..”

A sudden voice comes throw you and Jungkook.

“Jungkook! You are already back? You should have dinner with us today.” It was your mom, always kind but this conversations between them always made you uncomfortable and you still don’t know way.

“Hello Ms. Y/S/N, I would love to co..”

“Not happening, bye mom”

You quickly close the front door and grab Jungkook to your car. You had your hair undone, your shoes undone, phone and wallet in your hand and the keys of the car were inside the car. Now you get why is so obvious your not so good morning routine.

“Thank god I leave the windows open.”

The streets were always quite in the morning. It was sunny and now you wished you had dressed your yellow sweat so you could match the weather. The only sound you could find was your neighbor’s dog barking at your presence and your mom was at the door talking with Jungkook about the weather or something instead of helping.

“See you soon, Y/M/N.” Jungkook waved one last time to your mom before getting closer to the car.

You hardly placed your arm inside the car so you could unlock it from the inside, opening your door and Jungkook’s. You entered and when you were about to close your door, a hand blocks you.

You breathe out not taking Jungkook’s joke.

“We are going to be late Jungkook, and you know I hate to eat my food.”

“I’m taking the car.” Jungkook’s eyes narrow at you with one of his eyebrows up.

It’s been the six time in a row Jungkook would take the car and you swore to god it was your time. You didn’t care how sexy Jungkook would be when driving, it’s rare for you use the car and when you do, Jungkook is always there, so the feeling of a steering wheel was almost unknow to you and that was what Jungkook feared.

“Hell no Jungkook” Jungkook grabbed your wrist which was resting in your car’s door after you protest. “No” He started pulling you out of the car and you swear you would kick him. “I’m calling my mom”

He narrowed you one last time. You weren’t giving him the keys and he hasn’t letting you drive, so who wins?

Yes, it’s true, Jungkook is way stronger than you but to use that in advance? Fuckin asshole.

“Mom? MOM” It was actually fascinating how this man could hold you with one arm on his shoulder.

“I asked nicely, you just needed to give me the keys Y/N, didn’t you mother teach you manners? Do I need to give you a lesson?” Irony looks good on Jungkook but not in that moment.

“Last time you grabbed with one arm I was out of the window so put me fucking down before I kick your balls Jeon Jungkook.”

“Watch your tongue Y/F/N”

Oh how great, your mom is watching everything.

Jungkook let you down in the other side of the car, waving to your mom. He got in the driver seat and waited for you to do too. He tilted his head from the window with a questioning face.

You crossed your arms with a smirk in your face.

“What about the keys Jungkook?”

Both of his hands went through his pockets and his mouth talked without sound.

Where are them?

Your hands show the answer and two seconds later you were speeding down your road with a whisper of your mom’s “don´t fall please” followed with a little laugh.

You both are such kids around each other but you missed that. You missed his playful side, his bad pick up lines, his way of checking the menu 37 times before choosing the simplest thing. You missed his everything and the way he completed you in his own way. The only problem was that Jungkook felt the same away but you, like the usual bling girl you are, didn’t notice.

You lost yourself in these thoughts until you felt Jungkook’s arms around your waist.

“Gotcha”

Even with so much running, Jungkook end up taking the car but with the condition you could choose the song on the radio, so he already knew he was about to hear Ariana Grande’s new album, but he didn’t mind. He loved to see you happy and if that was the way, he would take it.

You both sang the entire road and you even forced Jungkook to stay in the car until God is a woman ended. You entered the restaurant and choose the table as far as you could from the loud families and the whole running from the kitchen to dinner tables.

“I may get double cheese this time”

“You always get double cheese” Jungkook let down the menu facing you.

Thankfully the dinner was calm. The people were nice and food has really good so every time you could com, you would.

“Then, I’ll get double double cheese.”

You already choose your order and so, you waited for Jungkook to debate between double cheese and double bacon or just double cheese and bacon, and, without noticing, you fell asleep on the table.

You got no sleep that night. You walked through the streets at 3 am but still couldn’t sleep and having to wake up so soon to get lunch with Jungkook was truly a nightmare.

“Y/N?” you felt a gentle hand on you hand “She will have one but without cheese, please. Yeah, two cokes please.”

It took you a couple of time to wake up but Jungkook was happy just to have you close.

You raised your head slowly trying to escape the shafts of sunlight.

“What?” Your hair was a mess again and one of your cheeks was red from pressing it on the table. Jungkook’s head tilted to the side smiling like he’s scanning your face. “What? What is it? I have something on my face?” You looked for something wrong in you.

“Beauty.” He paused, brushing one of your loose hairs away from your face. “Not only on your face, everywhere.”

You felt your cheeks heat up and thankfully, the waitress arrives with your orders moving away all the shyness upon your face. What couldn’t Jungkook do to you?

The lunch went well, even the part when Jungkook painted your t-shirt with ketchup and you poured pepper on Jungkook chips instead of salt. You felt you got no worries. No time wasted. No job. No job. No job?

Right now I’m in a state of mind I wanna be in like all the times

“Y/N, your phone.”

At first you didn’t notice the ringtone because of how deep you felt in Jungkook’s eyes and how interested you were in his trip to Malta but it wouldn’t stop ringing.

Everything was so good. You wished you could fire yourself in that exact moment.

You swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello. Yes. 30 minutes??? But I’m having lunch.” You rolled your eyes and Jungkook already knew the deal. You were leaving with half of your hamburger in your plate.

You landed your phone next to your glass, with no courage to go away.

“You need to go to work right?”

You nod pressing your face against your hands. Jungkook asked for the check and you could only feel guilty about it. He seemed no upset but sad. Sad about you leaving and having the day all for him.

Before you exit the dinner, you could feel the awkwardness in the air.

You grabbed Jungkook’s wrist stopping him from leaving.

“Come have dinner with me.”

“What? You said you didn’t want me there”

That was half true and half lie. You want Jungkook there, you did want him all the time but having to introduce him to all your family has a no for you. Yes, they already knew him but bringing a guy to dinner has a step my dad will take very seriously and, in that moment, you weren’t ready to take his seriousness so seriously.

That being said, you decide Jungkook wouldn’t come over to dinner or lunch, just times where you could be a little more of yourself, but in that exact moment you needed to make it up to Jungkook so why not something he’s always asking?

“I want now.” You were fully aware of what you asked and what you wanted and so, you want Jungkook to know that this time it wasn’t a game of “just because you asked”. You want to show him how special he’s to you and taking that one step may be the right one.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay princess, I accept your invitation to dinner tonight at your place.”

Opening the exit door for you, you can’t help but smile at him and at that moment.

Jungkook drove your car to your work place and insisted he would walk to his house that was only a couple of blocks away.

You were already late, but you couldn’t let go of Jungkook or his warm hugs.

“You will be safe right? I don’t want those _Daleus_ to catch you and eat your face or something.”

“I don´t think they eat people but, don’t worry, I know how to defend myself princess.”

Your face has buried on his chest while his chin above your head. You felt safe. You felt the warmness of a home and you couldn’t let that go.

“So then, I’ll see you tonight, right?” You lift your head so you could face him.

“You will” Your noses touched and you couldn’t feel more grateful about having him without actually having him but in some way, deep inside him, you were his and he was yours.

He left a kiss on the top of your head and then faced the road. Why did you feel like you lost someone? Why does it feel so suffocating not having Jungkook around? It’s like you don’t know how to breathe without him.

You never thought you would think work is worse than being at school. You got a part-time thing in this delivery shop. It was simple. Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays. It sounded so easy, but if you knew what you know today you haven’t even applied.

You worked your ass off to get every box at its place at the correct time. You arrived to the shop so you could finally leave and your boss appears at your front with one more box.

“You got one more box to deliver. But there’s a little problem YOU need to fix.”

It was fascinating how the YOU was said. You already know the second you blink he’s out of there resting his ass at home.

“Read the description. See you Monday, Y/N.”

You murmured a “See ya” while looking at the package.

*DELIEVER AT 9:48 PM AT *********.*

Fuck. 9:48?

You had message Jungkook to have dinner with him around 9 pm so what would you do? You couldn’t cancel your plans with him and you couldn’t not deliver the box. You needed to just find a way. You will tell him and he will understand. Maybe he will even drive you there.

You took the box home and talked to your mom about Jungkook coming over.

Your mom got excited, but way too excited, even thought he would come over with his parents one time each year. She started asking about his tastes, where you went for lunch, and more and more.

You were truly happy your mom was so kind about it and not asking question about the type of relationship you both held.

You dressed yourself with some skinny jeans and a big and poufy sweat. It was Jungkook’s actually. You stole it from him the night you went to his house. You were cold so he lent you the sweat and until today you haven’t returned it and you don’t plan to do it either.

It was half past 8 and the sense of your mom’s lasagna was already in the air. And yes, your mom always makes lasagna because of how good it is.

you: my mom’s already asking where you at ahaha

Your dad got home and you avoid every question. You left your mom to tell him about the dinner while you finished up cleaning your room. You weren’t planning bringing Jungkook upstairs but you needed to do something or you would turn insane. You were so nervous about meeting his gaze again. You think about if he’s nervous as well.

Something tells you that he is.

You came down and waited in the kitchen for him to come.

9:00 and you were already ready to call him but it was away too soon.

9:10 his place is far so he will take some time

9:20 maybe he got stuck in traffic

You decided to call him but there was no answer from the other line.

9:30 maybe his watch is broken????

You were still in the kitchen watching the streets closely.

“Y/N, maybe he-“

“He will come mom, he will, he’s just late.”

Your mom placed her hand on your back while you rested you face on her shoulder. You knew he wouldn’t come. You should never went to work this morning. You should have stayed with him. You should just said no.

9:40 you got a job to do but felt nothing but sadness. Sadness you didn’t deserve to feel. It was your fault.

You got no choice but to leave. You ate no lasagna and met no Jungkook.

You got off your house and drove to the place indicated in the description box.

It was exact 9:48 when you knocked at this big warehouse.

It was cold that night but still you needed to deliver the box. You knocked and got no answer. You tried to open and thank god it opened but one little thing popped up right way from the entrance of the house.

Jungkook. Him.

Great, you have officially gone insane. You shake his face from your head and got closer to the person in front of you.

“I’m sorry for opening the door, it’s just that I have a box to del-“

“Y/N?”

Fuck. It’s really him.

“You really need to go Y/N like right now.” He got closer to you and now you could finally see his face clearly with the light from outside.

“Excuse me? First, I go when I want, second, I don’t even know why you are here but I’m just doing my job, sorry if it bothers you.” You only looked once at him and that only time made it clear he was really worried. “Jungkook? What is it?”

Jungkook was now looking straight to the door. You look back and in the exact moment Jungkook covers your mouth in a too aggressive way.

You are guide to this big room ready to argue with him but when you enter the room you are faced with 6 guys holding each a gun pointed right at you.

“What the fuck Jungkook? We don’t want witnesses here, who that fuck is going to clean that?”

You freeze. Your mouth slowly gets uncover and the only thing to do is breathe, something you swear to god you learn from the guy behind you, who supposedly will kill you.

“We are not killing her. It’s Y/N.”

You look at him. He talked about you like they already knew you and you were right, they knew you and how well they did.

“Omg, for real? I didn´t have time to get myself presentable.” This tall guy steps in your line and asking for your hand.

“It’s a really pleasure to finally meet the lucky girl. I’m Taehyung. You already know about how I can easily mov-“

“I lied.” You felt so but so confused about everything. You were in a room with 6 guys with guns and there was Jungkook. The Jungkook you are in love. The man of you dreams. “I didn’t tell her.”

“I knew it.” Someone screams from far inside the room.

A awkward silent was left in the air but something felt strange about Jungkook’s eyes, it was like he was saying something, something to your head.

“I don’t care about this bullshit Jungkook. We can’t deal with her now.” This was a new voice. You felt your stomach aches.

Jungkook leaded you to the back of the room. With his hand on yours you still felt that warmness of his.

“Baby, it’s fine okay? I’m sorry I missed your dinner, it was a last minute thing. I even dressed up, see?”

There he was lying again. He didn’t know how to talk to you. You could clearly see the lie on him. He didn’t know how to act around you.

Still he was well dressed. It didn’t fit him. It wasn’t him.

“What’s happening Jungkook?”

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casskaykingston · 6 years ago

Text

all the way in

TAGGING → @amytaylcr LOCATION → Cass’s House TIMEFRAME → Sunday, February 2nd

Three days ago Amy thought their fight and the aftermath had gone on for too long. Now, she was adamant on putting a final stop to it. Weeks' worth of introspection and careful consideration had given her more than enough food for thought and she was full of it now, ready to lay her cards out on the table for Cass to see, as well. How much or what would eventually fall from her lips she couldn't say, but she knew enough to understand that silence wasn't an option anymore. The night before he went on his camping trip had been one for the books, their fingertips spelling out tenderness that they felt for one another, love drawing affectionate whispers from their mouths that had last spoken out such harsh truths she was worried the damage could never be undone. But underneath the hurt and the anger that had driven them into the argument, at the heart of their relationship, was a love like she had never thought she'd feel, and realized would do anything to protect, even if it meant protecting it from herself.

Especially if it meant that.

Standing by the arrivals gate at the airport, Amy checked the board one more time, an assurance that she hadn't imagined his plane touching down, and shifted on her feet impatiently. There was so much she needed to say, so much they needed to talk about, but above it all, Amy just wanted to see him, to hold him again. This distance was so unlike them, and Amy was ready to go back to how things were, if that was at all possible. Suppose she'd find it out soon enough. Spotting his towering figure come through the automatic doors, Amy stood on the tips of her toes and waved her hand through the air. "Cass!"

It was one of the best vacations he'd ever taken. It hadn't been very long, not to an exotic or extremely fancy location and there had only been one person for company, but it was Matias. His best buddy, sounding board, closest mate. The time in the outdoors with him had been needed and bonding, bring them closer together and helping Cass approach what waited for him at home with more clarity and peace of spirit. Things had been better than they had in the past two weeks the night before he left, her warm sleeping form and quiet breaths the lullaby that had given him his best nights sleep since the last time she'd spent the night on Sunday. He still didn't want to budge, at least not entirely, but he was prepared to give Amy as much leeway as she needed. All the blonde w anted to do was have the subject broached, that was all. All he wanted was his girl, and a future with her. A desire that was never as simple as it seemed.

Disembarking with Matias, their easy camaraderie manifested in little jokes they tossed at each other as they walked through the terminal, carry-on backpacks slung on their shoulders. They stayed together up until bag check when a solid bro hug signaled their impending parting, Harlow waiting for Matias in a slightly different area. Duffel bag slung across him, Cass ruffled a hand through his overly long hair, beard matching and displaying how long it had been since he'd shaved. Clear blues start searching through the waiting family the moment he gets through the doors, intent on looking for one person. The woman who held his entire heart, and who was unfortunately pretty short and hard to spot. That was, until he spotted a waving hand, her eyes and top of her head peeking out of the crowd. "Amelia!" Boomed his deep voice, it's deepness causing the people around Amy to shift, the man who'd spoken it absolutely beaming, hastening his steps.

Her name sounded over the heads of all the other people present at the arrivals gate, having spotted her petite frame, and a smile spilled across her lips. It hadn't been too long since she last heard it, hadn't been too many times that he called her by her nickname, but every time it happened it was a cut on her heart. For someone who detested the idea of being called as a person they no longer were, Amy had quickly grown used to the syllables of her full name rolling over his tongue in that deep, booming bass. The pace of her step quickened as she gained direction, and it was with her name still echoing through her mind that they finally stood in front of each other. Cass's thick head of hair a little messier than usual, his beard unruly; but the beaming smile on his lips was made all the more prominent with the kisses sun had left on his skin. Unable to control herself, Amy reached up and brushed her fingers against his cheek, hazel eyes tracing the movement her fingers made. "I've missed you," came the simple confession as she looked back up at him, arms coming to loop around his neck in a tight embrace.

The moments between getting in front of each other once more, her fingers touching gently on his grizzled cheek, and her arms wrapping round him are thankfully few, and for the first time in over 72 hours Cass got to touch his girl again. Her hair, sunny touched and longer than it had been at their remeeting so long ago, brushing her shoulders, is what his face gets buried into. The familiar aroma of her hair products joins the warm comfort of her in his arms and whatever was jittery inside him settled. The longer he was away from her, the more unsettled he got, he supposed. "I've missed you too, baby. So much." The blonde pulls back enough to rub his cheek along hers, pressing his lips to the apple of it. "Hope it's okay I'm a bit scratchy." The light tan he also acquired hides beneath the jacket Wilmingtons weather forced him to don upon their return, but that could wait for later. "Thanks for coming to pick me up."

There was still some hesitation between them as they hugged and he touched her cheek, pressing his mouth to the fullness of it. Any other day and Amy knew that it would be impossible to break a kiss between their lips. Even so, with all that in mind, having him close to her, the familiar scent of his skin and clothes, although buried deep underneath the scents of nature and wilderness, had been enough to ease her worried mind. Whatever was going on, she reminded herself, they would pull through it. A smile stretched her lips wide as she nuzzled her cheek against his in response. "Everything's okay as long as you're not going anywhere else any time soon." To think there was a time mere six months ago when she felt as though she had to─ that she could─ live without him, it would have made her laugh now. "It's my pleasure. Shall we get you home?"

He'd always known he was the affectionate sort in relationships. Romantic - a brush of lips against her hands, an arm around her waist, a touch at the wrist, and platonic - an arm thrown around the shoulder, hugs, secret handshakes, high fives. It was just a part and parcel of how Cass threw himself into everything, body and soul. "The only place I'm going is home with you, baby. Your place or mine, I don't care. As long as you're there too." A chuckle, and he pulls back, throwing an arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple while they walk, heading out of the terminal. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"

Catching Cass up on all that he missed in the few days of his absence─ not that it was long or there had been many things to tell him about─ proved to be enough of a distraction for the ride to his place. It had been on pure instinct that she took the right highway exits that brought her closer to his Murrayville home than her downtown place, but a part of her had to admit that when she thought of home, that was the place she imagined. Not the apartment to which she moved in recent months, although it had been absolutely hers and just the right move. But it still didn't feel like home. The white walls didn't breathe the comfort of a place to which she would always want to go back, not in the way Cass's place did. Then again, it might have had to do with the person who lived there more so than the place itself. And a good night's rest was mandatory after the few he's had sleeping under the stars, which he wouldn't be getting on her mattress again. He would have more likely spent the night putting the bed frame together, in all honesty.

Pulling up into his driveway, beside his forest green truck, Amy turned the ignition off and unlocked the door to let out Hudson, bouncing on his paws to greet his owner as Cass grabbed the duffel bags from the back of her car. "I think he's missed you, too. He puts my welcome to shame," Amy commented with a loving chuckle as Hudson stood on his hind legs and jumped on Cass in joyful delirium.

Three days hadn't made much happen at home, it seemed, but as the familiar territory sped past the windows and he gazed at her, it felt like a much longer amount of time. Since they'd gotten together, officially, for real, he couldn't be blamed if it that and Hudson had cultured a feeling of home to him. Of course when Cass was away for his thankfully not too frequent business trips he missed Wilmington, his home, his dog, and the family of friends he had found, but Amy had skyrocketed to the top of that list. How could she have not? Amy, who let him call her Amelia and had the most magical laugh in the world. Amy, whose pocket his hand belonged in and whose company he wanted always. Amy, that Cass wanted to come home to for the rest of his life. The smile that he wore for some of that trip was warm, to say the least, happy to be back with his girlfriend. Even if in a lot of ways, like Matias he too was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Hudson! What a good boy, aren't you? I missed you too, buddy." Warm words tumble out in his deep burr as he sweet talks his dog, arms unfortunately busy. "I don't know about that. He doesn't smell half as good as you, baby." The proper reunion occurs once they're inside and Cass gets to drop is bags in the foyer, taking a knee to scratch Hudson all over. The golden shepherd mix gave happy barks the whole time, tan and dark brown body wriggling all over in excitement, nonsense falling from his mouth as the blonde man baby talked his furry son. After giving Hud some attention, he finally stood up, one hand massaging at his shoulders, a bit sore from the flight and jetlag. Cass takes a seat on the back of the couch, scratching for a moment at the bottom of his beard with navy blues trained on her. Their agreement to talk when he returned had come to fruition, and he wasn't certain of what to expect. Or if he even wanted to be the one to broach it. Making up his mind, he held a hand out to Amy, a small smile tugging at his full lips. "C'mere, my Amelia."

"Well, at least I have that on him," Amy joked with a playful roll of her eyes as she set the house keys down and made herself at home. It didn't seem like Cass and Hudson would be finished greeting each other any time soon, not with the string of lovable nonsense falling from Cass's mouth, or the tongue lapping out of Hudson's mouth in utter bliss as his owner's fingers scratched behind his ears. She went ahead into the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea. Turning the heat down, she came out of the kitchen and into the living room where Cass was, right in time to see him rubbing at his shoulders. Making a mental note of that, she slipped her palm into his extended hand, and came close to him, free hand scratching at his beard. "Hi," she said softly, resting her forehead against his. The weight of the conversation they needed to have lay on her chest, but she cherished the moment, the closeness and warmth of his breath on her skin. "I'm making us tea. Do you want to shower first, or?" Or do you want to jump right into the big conversation about our future that I know you're dying to have?

The moment that passes after she offers him the choice seems to stretch into forever, staring into her eyes. There's hesitation in the multishades of brown, gold, and green that shine in Amy's eyes, hesitation and anxiousness and yet an impatience that Cass would be lying if he said that some part of him didn't share. It was strange, to be on the other side of it, to know your partner wanted to talk about something and you weren't sure it was something you wanted to dive straight into, and Cass didn't like it. He tightens his grip on her fingers and turns lips into her hand, kissing her palm, words leaping from his mouth. "Just a brief shower, if that's okay. Haven't been able to use running water in way too long. And I'd love some tea." Coward. An expletive Cass only growled inwardly at himself, that he didn't let show when he stands and rubs at the back of his neck once more. "I'll be quick." The tall man promises, kissing her briefly but softly before he makes his way to his bedroom, holding onto her hand until the last minute. Cass darts a glance back over his shoulder at her before he enters the hall, paired with a slight upturning of his lips that doesn't match the cheek he's chewing on, before he disappears.

It's the most mentally chaotic shower he's had in a while, suds running down his muscular form, lathering his hair and beard as Cass's heart thumps so hard he can feel it all over his body. There is no calm to be found in the luxurious room fitted out just for that, and it's a crying shame. Thoughts about what she would say, if she kept going down the path Cass had stopped her from before leaving, swirled round and round in his head, a cacophony of doubts that keeps him quiet under the fall of water. Even as he finishes, dries his face and body with his fluffy towel, drags on black briefs and matching joggers, it doesn't occur to him that Amy could ever go down the road he so desperately wants. Not after all the times she'd reinforced the fact it would be something she couldn't give him. A t-shirt that was once white but that's enduring enough washings that the butter soft fabric has turned grey is the last thing he pulls on, all the while mentally shoring himself up for their talk.

It must have been a first in their relationship, that Amy wanted to do something, to dive into a moment that would push their relationship from the standstill they were at now, and Cass wasn't eagerly awaiting her there. He had always been the one to instigate change and progress, and she the one to reluctantly follow behind. How strange it was that she held the key to move them further, and he was hesitant to even try the door. Was this what it felt like for him all these times? Unlike Cass who would push for what he wanted, Amy let him come to her when he was ready. They were both aware of the elephant in the room, staring at them, waiting to be acknowledged, but she would not be the one to force anything on him if he wasn't ready for it. As he went to the bathroom to get himself ready, Amy returned to the kitchen in time to take the kettle off the stove and pour the hot water over two bags of tea she had already prepared in each of their matching mugs. Christmas felt a lifetime ago, she realized as she turned the ceramics in her hands, waiting for the quiet of the shower to ensue. It was brief by no means, but Amy figured he had things to think through, as well as a task to complete. Eventually, when she tired of waiting, she took the mugs with her into the bedroom, just as he leaves the bathroom clad in his comfortable, stay at home clothes. "Tea's cool enough to drink," she said, placing it on the nightstand and taking a seat on the bed, the side on which she usually slept when she was over. She patted the mattress beside her, and reached into the drawer for a body lotion she kept there. "Come here. I'll get at those knots in your shoulders that are bothering you."

There is no better present to see waiting on your bed than Amy Taylor, bonus points if she's got tea, and it makes a soft smile curve on Cass's face. Much in the vein of wanting to come home to her, always, is the ability to see her simply around his place. The way it had been more like before she had a real place of her own. Humming in the kitchen, sleeping on his bed, her shoes near his front door and her smile something he could be gifted with around any corner. "You don't have to do that, baby. Though I won't say no." Cass rushes to assure her, because Amy's got some sort of magic in her palms whenever she sets about making sure his back feels better. He sits easily next to her on the bed, but catches her hand before she gets the lotion. "Wait. Before you work on the knots with your hands, let's talk first. It will help a lot with the stress, I promise you. Half your work done before you even have to lay a hand on me." The crooked grin disappears briefly when he collects her other hand and presses both to his mouth, tugging on them a bit so she comes closer. "So."

There were very few things Amy felt she had to do, especially with Cass, but this was never one of them. She took just as much pleasure in removing the tension from his shoulders as he did in rolling them without the stress weighing on them. And to know that something she did actually helped make him feel better, as opposed to the alternative, was always a feeling she wanted to bask in. "You know I want to," she promised, but before she had a chance to go about her mission, her hands were clasped in his bigger palms, and she looked up curiously from the hold he had on her, to the look swirling in his oceanic blues. In an instant, her heart went from its idle, paced beat, to a furious gallop, even though she knew this was coming. Scooting closer to him, one leg folded underneath her on the bed, she faced him better and trapped her lower lip between her teeth. "So," came the echo, uncertainty lacing her voice. How do you start something you knew you had to do but weren't sure you were quite ready to do just yet? "I guess we need to talk, huh? About... everything."

He waits for her to come closer with patience he hadn't seen to have had in any other point in their relationship, the safety of their surroundings working overtime to try and calm them both. Cass wasn't a fan of this feeling, anxiousness with the one person who calmed him more than anything in the world, and he looks forward even more to the relief that will come after they talk. No matter what compromise the two of them come to, he has to believe it's in their future. One hand drops from their palms to fall on her thigh, and when he squeezes it is isn't from a standpoint of desire but of comfort. That they could get through this, and it was going to be okay. "Yeah. We do. Amelia, if I'm pushing too far just say the word, because I never want to make you feel that way. Or afraid of me, ever. But...are you open to have a conversation about it?" Cass is still afraid to say the word kids to Amy, unsure if it was a good move, but he keeps the assurance in his hand on her leg, blue eyes steady on her hazel.

Blueberries, the word flitted through her mind, an allusion to the safe word they’ve had on an occasion so far removed from where they were right now. An occasion that was framed in so much trust that was present now, too, but overshadowed with many of the worries that have infected the past couple of weeks. His words came as a reminder of the current that still lay underneath it all, strong and undeniable, and a small smile flirted with the corners of her lips as she lay a hand on top of his that held her thigh. “Blueberries,” she voiced the sentiment. Tension still gripped her shoulders tightly, but diminished somewhat as the topic was finally broached. The suspense of ‘we need to talk’ finally weakening its hold on her twisted insides. Instead, a flutter of winged things, bats or butterflies she wasn’t sure, took flight through the liberated parts. “I know. And I wish I could react in a way that’s different from shutting you down entirely when I panic. But... yes, I think I can talk about it now.” Now that I’ve had weeks to consider it, and a taste of a life without you in it as much as I’d like.

A callback to the night they'd spent after the winter gala, silk whispering against her skin and cries that he could still call to mind at a moments notice. Though they had still been at the stage wherein she hadn't said those eight letters to them, she'd shown him that night that her trust in him was something that couldn't be denied. Before Amy could tell him how she felt about him romantically, she'd told him that, a confession that tasted of the sea she'd so loved and followed with their first but far from last evening beach walk. Cass doesn't directly respond to it, more with a warm smile, her hand atop his anchoring them both. He gets a handle on the relief, knowing they were only halfway to the finish line. the hardest part was next. "Okay. That's step one. Step two is, you know I want kids. And you know I want you. Can I entertain the idea the idea that two can be had together? I'm not saying now. I'm saying at some point, maybe, before the clock runs out on our biology, could you see us having kids?"

Even if he hadn't told her as much when they were just getting to know each other, Amy would have no doubts about the future Cass wanted for himself. He was a family man, and that was clear in the way he carried himself, in the decisions he made, and the way he treated the people around him, especially his close friends and employees. Amy might have been that way once upon a time, something buried deep in her psyche that was only now blooming after the fifteen years long winter of her life, but she was still miles away from where Cass was, even if she was doing her mighty best to play catch up. A year ago, if asked, Amy would have shaken her head no at the idea of bringing children into the world. Some six months ago she discouraged it to the man sitting next to her now. But that night? Two weeks after she had screamed a firm, unmoving no, second thoughts have shaken up her core beliefs. "I know that," she nodded her head, her fingers slipping between his, her gaze glued to the movement. "Before I answer that, before I fully entertain the idea of that future, which I'm not saying I haven't thought of, but..." She trailed off, losing sight of the point she wanted to make. She drew in a breath, finding once more the course of her thoughts. "I know you felt as if in my fears I've excluded you from the life we'd have with these kids we'd hypothetically have, but Cass... I don't know if you can be as good a father as I can be a bad mother. And I don't know how to put that on the kids we'd have someday. Hypothetically."

It seemed he had had this conversation with everyone important to him but her. Of course, that was probably directly related to their argument about it and sought out advice, but it was still odd. As his girlfriend, and the closest person to him bar none, Cass told Amy everything first (with the exception of things he knew would freak her out). Their fingers lace together in the pause after his words, and he uses it as his own anchor, a support for the two of them through what wasn't a light subject. The fact that she'd at least thought about it, that it had occurred to her enough to have a feeling about it, was something he clung to with hope. Hope that morphed into incredulous frustration when Amy reiterates her belief that she wouldn't be a good mother. An idea that flabbergasted him on every level, and had him shaking his head immediately afterwards. "Amelia. Please listen to me. There isn't a universe in existence where you'd be a bad mother. You have so much love, love that you'd given me, your family, your friends. You take care of me when I need it, you're strong when I can't be, you don't compromise your beliefs but that doesn't mean you shut others out. You have all the ingredients a person would ever need to be a good mom." There is belief in every single one of his words, conviction that goes to his core, and it communicates in his voice and earnest gaze. Cass squeezes their conjoined hands, one hand coming up to cup Amy's cheek. "Hypothetically, as you said, I'm terrified that I could share any of my dads attributes if I get gifted with a child in the future. At the same time, I know that its that fear that will help keep me on the path of the kind of father I want to be. You know...metaphorically." He ends with a slight smile.

Amy heard him and indulged his request. She listened as he spoke, heard the iron-clad conviction and belief behind every word of assurance he told her, and the faith he had in her sparked some dead part of her heart. Minute and irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, but a part of her nonetheless. The voices and worms of doubt still gnawed at her, impossible to silence even when his words rang so loudly in the small space between them, and Amy squeezed his hand, but her head shook from side to side. "I... That's all when I'm clean and I'm sober. What happens i-when I fall off the wagon? When my need for a fix becomes greater than anything else? What happens if I pass on my weaknesses to an undeserving child?" The certainty with which she proclaimed such turn of events would have been chilling to someone else, but Amy had been on the path of recovery a number of times before and not once did it stick. Not even when it seemed liked it had. So why should this time be any different when she was no stronger resisting her urges now than she had been before? She was just... lucky so far. Wasn't she? The hand on her cheek forced her to look up and meet his gaze, the warmth in his blue eyes a surprise in the cool of its oceanic allusions. "You're never gonna be anything like your father. No matter what happens or where you end up, that's the one thing that's never going to change."

This was his girl. Big hearted and second chancing it and hard headed with the best of them. Amy's lack of belief in herself and what she was deserving of, was capable of, baffled him still. Cass didn't know where she'd gotten it from, where along the line she'd stopped putting faith in herself, but he'd push against that train as much as he could for her, whenever she'd let him. Her head shake is expected, if unhappily so, and more of Amy's fears make it to light. Painting a picture of a future that Cass was utterly convinced would not happen. It might not have been as many months as it could've been between them, but their bond was forged tightly. He knew her. And Cass believed in her, whenever Amy wouldn't. Dropped eyes are made to meet his, unsurety seen in them, that pretty mouth telling him that in no reality would his greatest fear take place. "Thank you believing in me like that. Let me do that for you too. Baby..." Cass moves his hand to her chin to capture it and tilt her mouth towards his own so he can lay one kiss on her. Okay, maybe two. Sue him if Amy's taste wasn't something he'd ever stop craving. It's after those that he gets control of himself and pulls back a bit, faces still close as Cass gazed into her eyes.

"There is no when you fall of the wagon, baby. There's barely an if. If you ever start to feel like that again, you've got a support system to help you fight through it. You have me, your family, your therapist, all your friends that love you. I'm confident you'd conquer it." He taps her chin for a second with his thumb before he removed his hand from her face entirely, twining back with hers. "There's no other partner that I've wanted kids with, ever. Cross my heart, other than you." And Cass was telling the truth. Even when he felt his deepest love for Kiera he'd ignored any of the fatherly longings that were full fledged now, never picturing offspring. Amy was the only one he'd thought of in that way. "Tell me this. Would you want kids with me as the father? I understand the hesitancy there. They might come out wearing Stetsons and converses and twice as hardheaded as me." It was another of the important questions Cass had wanted to ask, half sure of the answer but wanting it all the same. Wrapped in a joke, it highlighted one of the man's most premiere personality traits, his striving to lighten moments with a bit of a smile.

Amy was one of the many people who tended to see the best in others, to believe in them even in the darkest times, and she was willing to hand out as many second chances as necessary, so long as they proved they wanted to change whatever the issue had been. Ironically so, however, she was so generous giving those out that she had none left for herself. She was her own hardest critic, greatest adversary, the one who nagged at herself about all her flaws and all her mistakes. The voice could sometimes be drowned by the people in her life telling her otherwise, but that was not always the case. There hadn't always been people around to do that for her─ by her own design. Cass had picked up the mantle of her advocate, fighting tooth and nail against these convictions she's kept of herself for the past fifteen years, but no matter how booming his deep timbre, still waters do run deep and it wasn't always enough.

She leaned into his touch, into the pressure of his lips on her own. Lids slid over her eyes like shutters, and stayed that way as he began talking again. She loved him, she appreciated everything he did for her, but this was not something he knew firsthand. "You don't know any of that. It's a constant battle. Some days it's easier to fight, other days it feels impossible. And you're not always going to be around. What if it happens when I'm pregnant?" A chill went down her spine, spreading through her bloodstream. She would ruin the child before she ever gave it a fighting chance, more so than just making them susceptible to addictions. The admission she came higher than Kiera in his ideas and plans for the future warmed her heart, but she couldn't tell him the same, he knew that much wasn't the truth. She hadn't thought about kids in detail when she was mere seventeen years old, but she knew there would come a time when Brooks and her would have them. Well, would have come if he hadn't died. And that was when she changed her mind about the idea of them. If she couldn't have his children, she'd have nobody's. Children, love, happiness. Life. Those were all things she renounced with his death, but had slowly been reclaiming with Cass. Were children the next step in the right direction? Or were they a roadblock to happiness? A scoff pushed through her nostrils, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. "As long as they don't come out humming Kenny Chesney, I'm okay with the Stetsons and converses," she teased right back, fingers curling around his own.

Hazel eyes met the oceanic ones once more, letting the silence settle around them before she answered. "I wouldn't want anyone else to be the father of my children. That's not what I'm hesitant about, because I know those would be the luckiest, happiest kids in the world having you as their dad. And I'd be the luckiest, happiest woman having you bring them up with me in whatever capacity the future brings." Though she certainly hoped that a future scenario of that sort meant they were bonded for life with more than just promises made to each other, but that might be a conversation for another night. "Please don't take that as me doubting us─ I'm only ever doubting myself."

Amy wasn't wrong. The closest thing Cass had to compare to the poisonous love song of pills were the years he spent shamefully addicted to the power started to feel standing over another as the victor with their blood on your hands, one of the most Earth shattering signs to him that he needed to escape the lifestyle. He was under no sort of impression that the things could compare, the same Amy would never truly get the complications of his relationship with C.K. and how low it had (less so, recently) brought him over the years. He nuzzles her when she voices her quiet fears, the vulnerability in them pressing on his ribs cage. Why couldn't his girl put faith in herself? She was stronger than she knew. "No, I might not be around 24/7, but you are more than capable of taking care of it by yourself. Baby," he keeps her chin in his hand, trying to help the closeness communicate his earnestness, Cass's unshakeable belief in her that he was trying to share. "When you're pregnant, you'll have cravings and swollen feet and a round tummy with our baby in it. Your mama bear, which, don't tell me you don't have because I've seen it several times, will kick in, I'm sure of it. You'll know what to do. What you have in here," and it's there that Cass let's go of her chin, pressing his palm above her heart. "Is more than capable of being an amazing mother. Kenny Chesney? If anything it'll be Johnny Cash. Gotta teach em the classics." The boyish grin comes out hesitantly to play, mercury quick, and in the back of his head Cass dazedly can't believe they're here. Actually joking about hypothetical kids. An impossibility not three weeks ago.

The sheer knowledge that Amy thought of him so highly, would only want him to be the father of her kids, mixed with the smug and happy feeling in his heart the moment it left Amys lips. Take that Cass thinks proudly at not particular person, insanely pleased with the fact. Perhaps a ridiculous sentiment, and their relationship status sort of dictated such a thing, but each thing he got from her was a victory in the eldest Kingston book. That alone makes him want to interrupt her with a kiss, the only thing stopping Cass being the words that continued to spill from her mouth. "There is no possible way you could be happier than me. I know you doubt yourself, but baby you don't see yourself the way I see you. Do you know who I'm dating? Who I'm love with?" Cass's last two questions are more like crooned demands placing both hands on her thighs to tug her forward so she's in his lap instead. The contact, he'd decided, was needed. Each thing he said following was punctuated with tiny kisses. "I'm dating Amelia Taylor. The smartest," Kiss to the forehead. "Most kind-hearted," One to her cheek. "Sexiest," one to her mouth, a little longer. "Strongest." To her jaw. "Jaw dropping gorgeous, endearingly flawed, owner of the cutest smile in the world. I know. That if she gave it a shot, at some point, Amelia Taylor would be a great mother to boot." And wife. And life partner. Things that to him were understood, to her not so.

When you're pregnant. The hypothetic scenario hadn't lasted very long, but Amy found herself somewhat at peace with the word choice. Sure, there was a part of her that roared in protest, slammed a metaphorical hand against the metaphorical table and argued they had not reached the when point. They were still at the if station, a fork in the road that could lead down two very different paths. But over the weeks that they had spent in quiet, simmering anger and disappointment, Amy had opened the door to the idea and realized it wouldn't be as bad as she thought. How was having children with another man any greater a betrayal than loving that man in the first place? And if she no longer saw it as that, if she came to understand Brooks would want this happiness for her, it followed the same thread of logic to believe he'd want her to have children, too. That issue was resolved soon enough, but the other, far greater monster still lingered, no longer obscured by shadows, baring its sharp teeth dripping with poison. Could she ever be a good enough mother? Could she ever do those innocent beings right by giving them birth into the mess of her life, involving them inextricably with all her flaws and mistakes? Her gaze dropped to his hand resting in the middle of her chest, right above the heart, and she worried her lower lip between her teeth. "I hope you're right," she said unconvincingly, not quite believing it all to the same level Cass did. After all, he didn't get to live inside her head every day of every year of her entire life─ an exhausting, hellish place if there ever was one. "I can let Johnny Cash slide."

Cass pulled her into his lap, her legs on each side of him as he forced her to face him, for once nothing sexual about their proximity and position. Idle hands lay in her lap, between their bodies, and Amy listened to the list of ways Cass saw her in. Superlatives and compliments raining down upon her head bowed in modesty. No, she didn't see herself the way he did. She probably never would─ and for that matter, no one else would, either. Arguments and contradictions to everything he told her burned on her tongue, white hot and heavy, and it was with all the power of will in her being that she reined them. He showered her in kisses, along with the compliments, and after the second one, Amy held her eyes closed and tried to listen to him, to hear what he was saying. To see the picture he was painting. But all that took shape behind her eyelids looked nothing like the reflection that stared at her from the mirror. "I don't buy all that for a second," she shook her head, laying her dainty fingers against the thick cover of his beard, foreheads pressed together. "But I love that you see me that way and I hope to God I'm wrong and you're right. For once I'd be okay with that."

He was at a loss for once, but the frustration that filled all over six inches of him was not new to him. As someone who was always the first to put himself between those he loved and anything that hurt him, it chafed at him that he couldn't protect Amy from her harshest critic - herself. Of course it was an impossibility, he could no longer keep the voices in her head from whispering lies than she could keep him from the insecurities he felt to his core as well, but Cass couldn't help wanting to do it. Couldn't help wanting to fill her life with as much happiness as he could. "Good." Having her in his lap felt right, the same way it did each time, even when Cass knew his words weren't reaching her. He wished that by pressing her forehead into his he could communicate it to her, convince her of it too, but that was a dream. One that he hoped to acheive one day, if not today. "I know I'm right, even if you don't. I'm glad you're okay with it. Because one day you're going to believe it too." He turns his head to press his lips to her hand, the touch of it on his beard intimately familiar to him. "At the end of the day..." Royal blues seek out hers, pulling back for a moment so that the muscular man could fully watch her face, for once calm. "Do you want kids with me?"

Want. An entirely different world to being open to the idea of kids, which was where they had started. But to want kids with Cass meant she wanted kids on her own, too, as this wasn’t something she could in good conscience just do for him. And did she? That was the tricky part. His whiskered mouth scratch against her hand as he lay a kiss to it, and when he looked into her eyes, searching for an answer, she bit down on her lip in thought. What should have been a resounding yes to any other girl was a hesitant maybe to Amy and she didn’t know how to say it without breaking his heart. “I can’t say anything about wanting them, but... with you by my side it’s... not out of the question.” Would that suffice?

It wasn't a no. At the end of the day, thats what he grasped onto, the hope that all was maybe not lost. That she understood that their bodies had a ticking time clock, that their deadline was coming up sooner than it was later, and Cass wanted a kid. One that he'd had a hand in making, that would grow in her. No one else. He knew that this was just the newest in his requests for things that Amy had buried with Brooks, locked her heart to it and thrown away the key long before he came back into the picture. Cass's nudging is what brought him here, his continued want to steal more of her possible future from the hands of a dead man, but he doesn't regret any of it. Look at what it had brought him, heartaches, and all? Time had taught him hesitancy, still knowing she could pull too far away for him to get to her, and under the calmness he's pulled taught as a bow. "Can I take that as not a no? As a, maybe we can reconsider it at another time?" Still not a yes, but it was something he could live with.

Perhaps it felt too soon to someone else to talk about children not even six months into a relationship, but that someone else wasn’t either of the people in said relationship. The turbulences they’ve gone through, all that they’ve overcome stood as a reminder of how committed they were to making it work, how much love there was between them that couldn’t be measured in the time past but the changes and growth willing to be made. And Amy had not changed her ways for just anyone. From the very beginning of their relationship, as far back as that first encounter by the fence, there had been a different energy about them, a giddy excitement no other man had given her. The kind she didn’t expect to feel ever again, and Cass had breathed fire back into her cold, dead heart. If she were to ever change her mind about what the future brought, those ultimate commitments and devotion that came with marriage and children, it would be for him. For Cass who loved her, flaws and all. Who fought for her when she pushed him so far away. Who had more understanding in his little finger than most people did in their entire bodies. That was who Amy could see fathering the children the future might bring someday, even if it wasn’t something she wrapped her mind around entirely. That would come, she imagined, aided by the feeling deep in her soul that Cass was the one— the one she would love, cherish, and care for for the rest of her life. That knowledge, however, she would keep safely tucked away in the hidden chambers of her heart for at least a little while longer. One step forward was all Amy could give him that night— especially when it was more a leap than a step.

Laying her hands on the sides of his face, the bearded cheeks and the chiseled jawline, Amy nodded her head and leaned in to kiss him. “It’s not a no. It’s a tentative yes to opening those doors again to more than the conversation. But if you let me, I would like to open it all up again when I feel ready. Is that okay?”

Two not a no's. Cass had already been luckier than he'd ever expected going into this conversation, her toned thighs on either side of him as he asked the impossible of her. He did it quite often, this giant golden cowboy and businessman who loved her, asking her for the stars. Pushing her beyond boundaries he was sure Amy had long since stopped thinking would even be touched by another, pressing against walls she'd had up for longer than they'd even known each other as teenagers and trying to get her to open her eyes to a future she buried with her boy so long ago. Now she cradled the face of her man, Cassidy, his lips pressing against hers as his arms held close the woman he wanted to have at his side, always. As far as he was concerned, Amelia Taylor was a necessary and required ingredient for a happy life, and it would always be the case. Even when she frustrated the hell outta him. When they were fighting or fucking or just freely with each other, enjoying simplest pleasure of each other's company. He wanted Amy. And Cass was getting as close to a yes as he was going to for now, though it was flirting with the proximity of it enough to bring him satisfaction for now. Besides - relationships we're compromises, right? "It's completely okay." He tells her after their kiss, keeping his growly tenor low as he presses his lips to her nose. "I'm content to pass you the baton on this one. Thank you for the tentative yes you were able to give." Cass gives her a pull and a twist and gets them further onto the bed, a knee pressing onto his comforter as he dips a whiskered chin and kisses her once more. "Seriously, baby. Thank you."

As he pulled her up higher against him and turned her around, Amy’s back fell against the mattress softly, with a slight bounce and a smile ghosting on her lips. The hardest of the conversation was over, she thought, their fight one that they had successfully resolved, even if it took them far longer than any other before. The days, weeks even, spent apart from him were not easy by any means. Every time she caught herself wishing to tell him something, she stopped and tucked her phone back into her pocket, wondering if they were there yet. With the conversation had, her allowances and promises given, Amy hoped that this would be it for a while, that their next torrent of worries and barbed words would be halted far away from them as they enjoyed each other and caught up on all they’ve missed. “No,” she shook her head against the comforter and reached up to scratch against his chin, trace the hard set of his jaws, the seam of his lips. “Thank you. For being patient and kind and loving me. Anyone else would have been out the door by now. I love you.”

Her fingertips touch his face with the care and affection that only a lover could give, the bushy face smiling down at her, framed a bit by warm light of his bedside lamps. This is what Cass always wanted, in the grand scheme of things, Amy in his home, in his bed, being the best thing in Cass's world and his favorite thing about leaving work to go see. For all their issues, the parts of their relationship that felt like 'red light green light's and when they stopped, he always had to look behind him to see where she stood, Cass loved her. Adored the way the liked to tease him and constantly poke the bear, searching for a reaction the deep well of kindness that sparkled in her hazel orbs and how firmly she took her stance on things, even if it frustrated the everlasting hell out of him. Loved the way she said his name and called him honey, the way she showed him how she felt with her lips even before she could express it and even now. He'd meant what he'd almost texted that night almost twenty four hours after her apartment had been left with shouting words and slamming doors, the words coming back to Cass as he nuzzled Amy on the bed, lacing their hands together. How could she think he could ever leave? Amy had too much of him. His heart, his soul, at the whim of her small hands and that dimpled smile. Who knew? "Anyone else isn't me. You are worth all of it, Amelia. I told you that back then, remember? Meant it then, meant it now. I love you too." My always for your forever. Rolling over, Cass likes on the bed next to her, hands still intertwined as his blue eyes raise to the wood ceiling, itching to bring something else up now that their biggest issue was now over. "Can I ask you something else? It's not above moving forward, it's actually about something that already happened."

Cass had told her that many times, and he would probably have to do it many more. The stubborn parts of her so obstinate and out of touch with reality that she could never quite come around to how Cass saw her, what he thought about her. A day might come when that image was less of a blurry outline, but for now his eyes would have to be the ones she used to tap her way through the dark. Her guiding force, the light she kept moving to. A smile stretched across her full lips, and her hand squeezed his more tightly as he lay on the bed beside her. The quiet of the aftermath settled around them, and Amy’s lids slid over the hazel of her eyes giving her a short lived moment of peace. Cass’s voice had her peering through one eye, then looking at him, alert and present in the moment. She shifted a little on the bed, cuddled into his open arms, and looked up to his face. “What is it?”

Even with the burning question dancing on the tip of his tongue, for a moment Cass is lost in the fantasy that her allowance gave permission to grow in his head. He had not so long since decided she was going to be the one for him; why would Cass look for anyone else when she was standing there in front of him? Dimpling, kissing, holding his hand on taking on the world with him. Amy made him feel lighter in a way he hadn't felt in untold years, and he was rock solid confident she would always inspire that in him. He looked forward to years they were going to spend together, and they were going to be years. Her permission to bring up kids at some point was the last green light Cass needed to start picturing their future together, one including an aisle and her walking down it. She settles into his side naturally, a comfort of behavior the two of them fell into awfully fast, and his left hand slipping under her shirt to stroke her tummy, his right drawing rough skinned fingers through her hair from the root, rhythmic and steady. "Sometimes I can't help but wonder what you were thinking that first night I said I love you. And...it's dumb, of course, but some part of me feels like whenever you say it, it's just because you're afraid to lose me." And not because you actually feel that way. Not fully.

In light of everything that had happened, all the turmoil they had been through, the tensions that had clouded their times together, Amy thought it was finally time to breathe easy as she snuggled into his embrace, her single most favorite place in the entire world. The warmth of his body so close to hers, the comfort his fingertips inspired as they danced through her hair and ghosted over her skin, it all worked towards easing the stress their relationship had endured over the course of the past few weeks. But it was a tentative, fragile kind of comfort that shattered like glass the moment the words rolled off his tongue. Incapable of keeping herself in spot, Amy was jolted upright into a sitting position, looking down at the man she loved, the man she had given every bit of her heart that she could at every possible turn, and listened to him question her love for him. "Cass," the whisper came full of disbelief, even hurt lingering there somewhere. After all this, was he really questioning her? "I was thinking about how I wished I could say it, because I've felt it, I've known it, but they're not words I throw around lightly. I couldn't say it back then, and I know it took me a while to get there, but I've only ever said that to Brooks before, no one else. It wasn't because I didn't feel it, it was because I needed time for my heart and my mind to get on the same page." It was as much an explanation for Cass as it was a defense of herself, shaking her head at the unspoken, underlying statement of it all.

"That's not it. I am afraid to lose you, but I don't use that as a bargaining chip. I'll love you whether you're mine or not, it's not something I can change, but I don't mean to tie you to myself by saying it. I only mean to tell you how much I care about you when I say it, how much of my heart you have and it's all of it, Cass." She took his hand, the great, rough palm, and splayed it on her chest where her heart beat steadily despite the tension that coiled her insides like a snake. "I love you with every beat of it, even when I don't say it, whether I'm afraid or not."

Through some miracle, his heart stays in the cage of his ribs even as the question leaves his lips. Though Cass means what he says, that niggling doubt that wouldn't leave his mind during his weakest moments, when his fathers words permeated what he knew was true and planted doubts he'd always just managed to dispel. Somewhere in his core, the thirty two year old man knew that Amy's devotion and commitment to him was no small feat. His girl had been traumatized, irrecoverably changed by losing the love she wanted to spend the rest of her days with. He believed her when she told him she'd never been with a man longer than a night after Brooks, could tell by the stubborn ways her walls refused to come down, the terror that still lived there. Cass had seen it that night she'd flung herself bodily in his soot covered arms, her first confession of love a torrent of emotion from what he'd believed to be a terrified place. The hurt in Amy's eyes and tone is the first reaction he registers, and it makes him push himself up onto muscular forearms, still reclined, blue eyes unsure if they should stay vulnerable or go guarded. "You did?" They're a lighter rumble than he was expecting to come from himself, and he hates the tone of it. Wishes it didn't betray his emotions so often.

And then, as blue and hazel meet and Amy keeps talking, he can't stop the wonder that crosses his face. Yes, it still killed him the smallest bit that she was afraid to lose him, to whatever cruel twist of fate might snatch him from her arms (he'd already told her she had too much of him he was never letting her go if he could help it - ), but what she said afterward? Felled him. Quietly and without much fanfare, but just cemented even more Cass's adoration of her. He never though another person would care about him to that depth, much less Amy. Amelia who had her loss tattooed on her body and her soul with loyalty twined within it, whose personal ghost she'd shackled herself to. Amelia, who'd made so much progress since them. Amelia, who called him her boyfriend, who took care of their dog and supported him, championed him in a way no one else ever truly had. Who made him feel like he wasn't just a good man, but a great one, the kind that she made Cass want to be. Who, on his bed, in this home he'd built with his hands that was only complete with Amy in it, confessed to him that her love was not an occasional thing. It was an always thing, spoken with enough conviction that Cass, in that moment, truly believed her, heavy palms absorbing the beats of her heart into himself. "Amelia. You're not going to lose me. You're never going to lose me. I'm never going to lose you." Genuine distress constricts his heart, that thing in his chest that beat for her only, and he expresses it with a hard, impassioned kiss, one hand at the back of her head. I'll love you whether you're mine or not. "You know that I feel the same way too, right? All of me that I have is in love with you. There isn't one part of it that doesn't want you forever."

It was a question that followed her confession, and Amy's chest tightened, shrunk in on itself. Had she done such a bad job at being his girlfriend, at showing him just how much she loved him, simply because she hadn't said it as much or as soon as he did? In her eyes it did nothing to diminish the expanse of her affection, but perhaps Cass saw it in different ways, the scars he carried from his family and his childhood marring him even now. Always, probably. Thinking about it, the jigsaw pieces falling into place, it dawned on her that what she thought was a given implicitly, he needed to have spelled out otherwise he wouldn't believe it. Courtesy of the emotionally and verbally abusive father that C.K. had been to his only son. Whatever hurt she may have felt for having her ardor questioned, it subsided, sizzled out as it occurred to her that it might not have been about her after all. "Honey," she whispered, reaching over to run her fingers along his cheek, tender and caring. "I've been in love with you longer than either of us has known. I have a feeling I always will be," she admitted, a fleeting smile curving her lips as she said it out loud for the first time, both to him and herself. Cass sat upright and planted a kiss to her lips, searing and full of promise that, coupled with what he said, quietened the rational parts of her heart. These were the promises he couldn't keep hard as he might try, promises she knew neither of them had any control over, but she did not want to question him, not even for a single moment. Instead, for maybe the third time in her life, she threw all caution to the wind and nodded her head. She would believe him, that night if no other, that he would always be by her side. Hers to call. Her gentle fingers cradled the side of his face in her small palm, and her eyes closed over, the scent of him all she ever wanted to breathe in, his warmth the only sun she'd ever need. "I know. I've never doubted you for a single moment. And I hope you'll doubt me less from now on."

#para: all the way in #para #para: amy #self para #BABIES #SOBBING #also this canonically happened like a month ago holy shit #tw: pregnancy mention #in a general not solid way but whatever

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anonil88 · 6 years ago

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Loyal Lines, Loyal Stunts (wayhaught college au) : Chapter 6

Notes: So i did an update and I am leaving for a funeral, but i am going to try and update a few chapters before i do that plane flying thing.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16373183/chapters/38681555#workskin

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13091723/6/Loyal-Lines-Loyal-Stunts

Tw: for cursing (its wynonna) and verbal abuse (oh willa) Also two things: Pinwear day are special days designated by your greek organization where you have to wear your groups pin and dress in business casual wear. Flashbacks, memories, and lyrics are italicized; Text messages are bolded.

Waverly woke up yet, again alone. Well not completely Vanessa, her roommate, lurked into their room early in the morning. She tried not to think too much about the day prior and didn't even check her phone. A part of her was racked with worry that Nicole wouldn’t even message her after the yesterday. She knew that Nicole was worrying about her and wondering if she was okay and likely wonder why exactly she walked up to the revenants unscathed. Ignoring the thought Waverly tried to get through the day without dwelling too much about what she could not fix and what she knew would eventually have happened. She knew eventually she would have to face the skeletons in her closet sooner or later. Despite the inner turmoil she was facing she made everything seem normal for everyone around her. She upped her normal pristine image it being pinwear day gave her an excuse to dress up. She wore her hair pin straight and her pink turtleneck with a pair of loose black pants. Waverly woke up extra early just to put the effort into the silkiness of her long brown tressles. Wynonna would be proud at the hair maintenance skills she donned from her. Her too long tan coat was not dragging on the ground due to a pair of her favorite heeled boots. She dug the boots from the bin in the bottom of her small dorm closet filled with things from her home in purgatory. When she fished them out of the container she also stumbled upon a dirty wrinkled leather vest. Unfolding the vest she sat on her rug gazing at the object with lost eyes. The vest’s back was partially covered in a single faded off white bottom banner. The banner was clinging to the vest with thick black thread and a leather epoxy that still faintly smelled of burning rubber. That smell reminded her of the rotating wheels of a big wheel Dyna pulling at freshly laid asphalt. Blue stitching was fraying underneath Waverly’s fingers as she traced over the letters. The letters were coming undone but still read out angel face in a thick scripted font. Waverly's alarm tone and a groaning fast asleep Nessa shook her from her memories. She shoved the vest back under the mountain of shoes that desperately needed to be sorted through. These boots that clicked against classroom floors made her slightly taller but not as tall as Nicole. In her mind she wondered if she would be tall enough to rest her forehead to Nicole’s without having the taller girl lean down for her.There i go again she internally chastised. Besides the revenant business Nicole also filled her mind. It wasn't just then as she left the dorm Nicole also invaded her thoughts all day. Even when she was getting compliments left and right in between tutoring and mandatory workshops she thought of what her friend was up to. In the middle of her busy schedule she never did get to message her about if she was okay after everything. She felt worse about that then when Champ surprised her in the history building hallway. He was wrapping his burly frame around her from behind and she prayed it was Nicole. But, it wasn't and she let him annoy her while she printed off copies for a tutee. Waverly texted Nicole but the conversation was awkward. Even more so after Nicole asked if she was doing any better for the 10th time.

Nicole

If you are okay, are we just not going to talk about the pink elephant?

Waverly

What elephant?

Nicole

(-_-) okay then i guess if that is how you want to be.

Waverly

Im sorry. I guess i just want to forget that it ever happened?

Nicole

Ok, but would you want to file a police report to feel better?

But, Waverly made sure to decline. A report would only escalate the lingering situation from a possibility to catastrophic inevitability. She was sitting in a large upholstered chair in the student center, as she thought back to her stop on the police talk. One thing Waverly would never be, on purpose, was a tattle tale or a narc no matter what her elder sisters might refute. Especially Willa, Willa who she tried to stuff so far in her mind that her stomach churned at the thought of her name. While physically Waverly seemed to be stoic as she let the chair swallow her, her mind went to her dark place. The sound of lightning clapped against the sunny and cloud covered sky. A storm was churning passed the mountains in the far distance the gray and black peaks creeping towards Purgatory.

“You ruined everything, you always ruin everything,” Willa spat at a frightened six year old Waverly. Waverly was tucked behind a rickety wooden sitting chair in the homestead’s kitchen.

Her small hands trembled and her eyes grew puffy hoping this chair could block the storm growing in her sister. She had a clear shot of Willas face, contorted with anger and raging irises burning past the chair frame. Their eyes were always so similar but, Willa always carried a deep resentment in her own. Waverly hoped that the chair would deflect the words being hurled her way or at least the stinging slaps that could follow. Their father, Ward, was dragging Willa’s latest older boy toy down the dirt driveway of their home. Leading the boy no doubt to where his parents beat up minivan was parked in the driveway. The girls were left home alone while Ward attempted to play sheriff half sober. These days he had been doing a worse job than usual as the drinking was getting worse. When he came home early for lunch and caught Willa necking said boy in her room the blame fell on Waverly at least from Willa’s perspective. No matter how many times she protested and Wy backed her up Willa was upset. No she was livid. Willa grasped one of wards almost empty small bottles of whiskey. She downed the small amount left and hurled the bottle in Waverly's direction. Twelve almost Thirteen year old Willa was every inch of her daddys image. The wicked words and the bullheaded stubbornness. One thing they all inherited was his fight versus flight instincts. Waverly ducked the shattering glass and sobbed outloud. “Please Willa i promise,” Waverly’s squeaking voice cried out. “Always crying like a baby, that’s how i know YOU aren’t my sister, YOU cry too much.” Willa cut her sister off. She was taunting Waverly by circling the table after her. Waverly didn’t know why but her sister seemed so much bigger and far scarier than any other time before this. Little did baby Waverly know that things would only get so much worse the year after. Wynonna had stepped in once she hid the guns they kept in the house from their dad. She was sure he would have killed that 15 year old for messing with his 12 year old, drunk or not. Wynonna began pulling Willa to sit in the living room forcibly trying to put some distance between her sisters.

Willa continued to jire, “She's not our blood Nonna. She is just some half breed that momma had and now we have to put up with.” Waverly curled herself into a ball and waited to hear Willa running out of the house. A loud bang of the front door slamming confirmed what always would happen. When Wynonna returned to the kitchen she grabbed a dusty old broom and pan to collect the glass on the floor inches from her shuttering sister. Waverly was panting and crumpled under that wooden chair it did protect her. After sweeping the shards and sitting them far away from drunk old men and clumsy kids Wynonna huddled next to her baby sister. “Don’t listen to her she’s wicked when she’s mad.” Wynonna attempted to coax her sister from under the chair. Waverly, then sniffling, made her way onto her sisters lap. Wynonna tousled the little girls growing mane, “You know you are the best Earp because your better than us. Stay better baby girl.”

Wynonna was so young trying to hold it together. Trying so hard to maintain the insanity until it happened. The incident that changed so much for the Earp name and how people viewed their family was on the horizon, but none of them knew that then. Waverly loved Wynonna but, feared Willa even when they eventually reconnected. Time would help her forgive but Waverly could never forget the way her heart sank when Willa’s voice echoed in her ears. When Ward did enter the house again he just pulled a bottle of whiskey from his coat pocket. He sat in the same chair he always did and drank away. Waverly wondered if he even could hear her sobs or even cared about her whether she was his or not.

It was good that the recounted memory was fading and the color was coming back to her face, because when she looked up Wynonna was striding towards her seat. Waverly smiled as her sister clad in a fringe leather jacket, spandex jeans, and a lasagna del ray shirt sauntered in front of her. Wynonna sent finger guns Waverly’s direction when she was close enough to see her sister’s lopsided smile. Waverly returned the motion and Wy sat on the ottoman in front of her. There were a few wide eyed boys in the student center and a few concerned gazes from professors on break. No matter how many times her sister visited campus she always seemed to get odd stairs.

“Heyyy baby girl you look...nice,” Wynonna said raising her eyebrow.

Waverly shook her head and closed the book in her lap placing it in her bag, “It is just pinwear day Wy i have to look nice.”

“Nah Earp i have seen you on other cult days and this is a whole nother level.” Wynonna waggled her eyebrows, “ You got a hot date.” “Yea sure i am blowing off our talk off to get lucky with the guy of my dreams,” Waverly joked back. “Or girl, which is fine by me,” Wynonna interjected loudly receiving and playful slap from her younger sister. “Where is Officer Ginger these days Waves.” Waverly sighed, “Well that is kind of why i need to talk to you.” Wynonna’s eyes got wider. “No, not for advice it has to do with what i texted you,” Waverly quickly replied. “Right, Rev scum party of three,” Wynonna muttered as she fiddled with a charm on Waverly’s bookbag. A group of girls all dressed in similar clothes filed out of the dining hall and others started to pour in from the external doors. Wynonna grimaced, “Look waves your cult of Heathers’ has arrived to indoctrinate you.” “Ha ha,” Waverly fake laughed as she made her way over to some of her fellow sigmas. They all stood against the largest open wall in the student center and proceeded to make pose after pose after pose. There was a flash with every position as a tall fraternity member was taking each photo with a plastered puppy dog grin on his face. Wynonna stared at the event like it was the prohibition era and bottles of whiskey were being poured into a river. Horror oh the sheer horror, she never understood why Waverly would join the group. Then again Wynonna never really found herself wanting to assimilate into normalcy for or with anyone. When Waverly was finished talking and returned, Wynonna was standing making googly eyes at a very familiar football coach. Waverly groaned and slipped her bag on before dragging her sister outside. “Call me later Xavier,” Wynonna said a bit too seductively for Waverly’s comfort as they passed him on the way out. He smiled in her direction and Wynonna’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Really Wynonna,” Waverly silently judged and chastised her sister but was inwardly kind of happy that Wynonna was in her usual swing of affairs. “Oh don’t get your panties in a bunch. He is actually kind of cool,” Wynonna said as she rounded the old red jeep and hopped in the passenger seat. Waverly had slipped into the driver’s side Wynonna’s keychain dangling on her fingertips as she slid the key inside and turned over the ignition. The jeep stalled with a stuttering puff after a coaxing coo and tap on the hood from both sisters the engine turned over. Waverly pulled out of the teacher/visitors lot and started her way back to Wynonna’s place. The car ride was filled with a bit of blaring rock and roll as they took to the freeway. The song switched as Waverly took their exit and a familiar song hit Waverly’s ears. Wynonna started to choppily belt out; Saturday night I was downtown Working for the F.B.I. Sitting in a nest of bad men Whiskey bottles piling high Boot legging boozer on the west side Full of people who are doing wrong Just about to call up the D.A. man When I heard this woman singing a song. Waverly chimed in with her sister, actually keeping on note with the radio playing Long Cool Woman by The Hollies. They finished the song just as Waverly stopped the car in front of a slightly dilapidated apartment complex. Wynonna stepped out and led them both upstairs, they passed the old but reliable chopped silver yamaha xs650 parked under a crooked tree. The bike had seen better days but the shiny extended handlebars glimmered in the cloudy sunlight. It was nicknamed peacemaker after the similar looking revolver that Wynonna kept on her person at all times. That gun had saved both sisters many many times and deserved to be commemorated in some way. When they were both sprawled on Wynonna’s beat up leather each sipping on a beer Wy broke the unspoken tension. “What happened babygirl,” Wynonna’s voice was filled with concern. Waverly sat up straighter against the couch arm holding the glass bottle with both hands. Her line of vision peering into the light brown bitter brew. The inside of her lip was being tugged by her teeth as she formed her thoughts. Wynonna was patient and just watched her little sister until she was ready to speak. The ticking of a clock on the wall reminding them both that time was still passing in the silence. Waverly took another sip of her beer before recounting yesterday to her sister, when she got to the part where she was sitting in Nicole’s car she hesitated. Her sister did not like cops of any kind and she knew Wynonna would not be too ecstatic that Waverly was interested, seriously interested, in hopefully a future deputy of the law. Wynonna sensed her sisters apprehensiveness and tapped her knee ushering her to go ahead.

“We were in her car talking. Well i was talking and she was listening. She was looking at me different nonna,” Waverly’s accent started to peak out more and more as she recounted. “I was scared like good scared. Scared like how i want to try parachuting out of a plane at 15,000 feet or maybe swimming out so far into the ocean that i can't see the bottom anymore.” “Woah there wave extreme much,” Wynonna stopped her sister for a moment. This was a bit intense and she knew all about her sisters emotions with relationships. She could pine over a guy that was for sure and even if he was no good for her, her sister was too good to leave. Wynonna did admit to herself that this did seem different though. It seemed honest still, she always aired on the side of caution when it came to Waverly. Reckless was her thing and safety was for her sweet baby sister.

“Wynonnaaaa,” Waverly near shouted causing her sister to startle. Waverly looked annoyed bordering upset and Wy chose to tell her to continue rather than face her wrath. “As i was saying she scares me Nonna. I don’t even know if i am gay i know i am not straight but i kind of went in to kiss her” “Kind of ?” Wynonna questioned as always. “The revenants showed up,” Waverly said ignoring the lingering question. Wynonna’s face went from playful to straight laced. Her fingers gripped the bottle a bit tighter. “It was Jim, Jonas and Peeper, they were burning tire in the parking lot of my building.” Waverly gulped from the beer ingesting more liquid courage. “I panicked and ran up to them, it was stupid i know. But, when they saw me Whiskey Jim went to grab me.” “Asshole,” Wynonna scoffed while sipping on her own beer to keep composure. Waverly rolled her eyes and continued, “When i reminded them that campus was filled with cops, was off limits, and that i happened to be their boss's sister in law they peeled off.” Wynonna gave a knowing eye, “And…” “And i reminded them i was a pretty accurate shot with a shotgun or a rifle their choice,” Waverly giggled nervously. Wynonna returned a cheeky smile and pulled her sister in for a side hug. She kissed her sisters forehead. Waverly was no longer a baby, but it would always be Wynonna’s job to protect her. Gus would kill her if anything happened to her niece, really either of them. Gus sent them both east in hopes that they would escape Purgatory’s small town curse. “No doubt they let bobo the clown in on that little act Waves, but at least even he has his own fucked up rules to follow. I am glad you stuck up for yourself just be careful with the revs they are unpredictable. And…” Wynonna was stalling. “And be careful with Officer Haught, i will.” Waverly knew what he sister was going to say. Wynonna snorted, “Officer Haught, that is going to be fun. Eh, yea haught shot too.” *** Nicole was helping Chrissy and the rest of the Tau Zeta crew clean up for the party after her shift. She was quiet most of the time methodically carrying out her plan of action. She designated everyone jobs just to keep things organized. When they were all finished the non- housemates went home for the most part. Before Chrissy left she’d asked if Nicole was okay, but she shrugged off the suggestion that she wasn’t. Those that lingered would just head to the game early on Tomorrow morning. Nicole made sure to take off work for tomorrow night to help keep the peace in her own home. She would work late doing another security officer’s shift but would not be late enough to miss the smell of weed and alcohol filling her house. Instead of dwelling on her dread she was dragging herself, a beer, and a slice of gluten free pizza up to her room. Once she stared at the slice in her bedroom light it looked less appetizing but her stomach was in knots so she ate it anyway. Nicole put on a random tv show trying to tune out the voice in her head. Waverly is lying. Nicole closed her eyes hoping to ignore her internal conscience that told her something was wrong. The voice that told her Waverly was in trouble. Instead ignoring the voice just made things worse and she found herself getting frustrated. She rolled over and found her phone on the side table. Gliding her finger to the phone app and hovering over Waverly’s name she hit the green dial button. Nicole sat on the bed head in hand and phone to ear. She was determined to get an answer from Waverly. Determined to find out why the girl insisted she was okay but shook in her arms until she found sleep. Then again as the phone rang, Nicole wondered why did she care. Yes they were friends, but they definitely weren't anything more. There was nothing more in the way Waverly looked at her and definitely nothing more in that almost kiss. Nicole’s thoughts were stopped when a fresh with sleep Waverly Earp answered the phone. “Nicole,” Waverly asked quietly. The chords of an acoustic Ring of Fire had woken her up. Sighing Nicole whispered back, “Hi Waves, i just wanted to make sure you were okay again. Text are one thing but hearing your voice is another.”

Waverly yawned, “Mmhmm i’m okay Nicole just hanging with Wynonna, catching up.”

“Okay then Wave,” Nicole stalled having nothing to say to that. Waverly did sound better, less shaken and more stirred. Nicole guessed it had to do with her sister. They seemed close and she noticed how quickly Waverly relaxed after trying to contact her sister that night. Although in her eyes Waves seemed more mothering her older sister than what most would expect from a younger sister.

Waverly rubbed her eyes and sat up on the familiar bed she was sleeping on. When Wynonna insisted she stay the night as a safety precaution she couldn't say no. They fetched a few things from her dorm including her cheer uniform for the game and Waverly ended up watching Jeopardy with her sister. It was actually fun teaching Wynonna something other than latin curse words. They both needed the distraction from everything. Wynonna had more boy trouble than whiskey and she had a lot of whiskey. So now here Waverly was sleeping in her sister’s room while she worked in whatever bar she was serving at this week. Waverly played with a strand of hair nervously before she said, “are you angry with me?”

Nicole was surprised but, honest and replied. “Yes, because you didn’t tell me the truth and no, because i am just glad that you are okay now at least.”

Waverly smiled listening to Nicole's tone lighten up. There was a sigh as Nicole laid on her bed. “I’m glad i am okay too.”

“Does this mean you are going to tell me when you aren’t okay, Waves,” Nicole questioned her eyes feeling heavier than before. “Maybe,” Waverly laid under the blanket on her side wishing Nicole was there. Nicole laughed quietly, “just let me in i don’t bite and tell me about your day.”

It seemed like whenever she spoke to Waverly she let her do most of the talking. Nicole knew Waverly was usually being spoken to and told what to do rather than not. That came with being in a sorority that prided itself on group think rather than individuality. Nicole actually enjoyed hearing how Waverly’s day went, her day always seemed to include a funny story about her kindness. That was usually a contrast to Nicole’s day sure she was able to see the kindness on this campus but, she was also becoming more accustomed to the more illegal things on campus. For some reason they caught two seperate drug deals on campus today and they weren’t the usual adderall or pot deal. They were dealing newer party drugs than the WHU security was accustomed to and actual police officers had to come collect the drugs for evidence. All that seemed so crazy compared to Waverly's stories of helping librarians and students playing soccer in the quad. It wasn’t long before the lull of Waverly’s voice transported Nicole into a place filled with cotton candy dreams and gluten filled pizza.

Waverly was still talking when she heard the steady rhythm of breathing through the speaker. Nicole fell asleep and Waverly couldn't help but blush. “Goodnight Nicole, ” she whispered. Waverly left the phone on speaker on the pillow next to her.

A quiet but audible goodnight waves came back to her. Waverly fell asleep listening to Nicole relax back into a deep sleep and Nicole slept soundly with her phone resting on her rising and falling chest.

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