#m: old
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2019
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#light academia#dark academia#classical#academia aesthetic#escapism#academia#books and libraries#classic literature#books#architecture#interior#decor#design#building#old#history#historic#historical#paintings#murals#wood#intrigue#detail#royal core#cottage core#aesthetic#academic#mood#vibe#tumblr
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A Blushing Buick Beauty
A 1958 Buick Limited Convertible, red, USA.
#limited#buick#1958#1950s#car#car photography#classic car#convertible#old#retro#vehicle#vintage#america#usa
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Studio
Warnings: None. But a lot of fluffy fluff.
A/N: This will be my first series. I got a little carried away.
Word Count: 11.7k
Song Inspo: Studio ~ Schoolboy Q
Banner by: @cafekitsune
It was a warm day. Amari’s favorite client was back again. When he comes in he wraps her in a strong, warm hug.
“Thank you for squeezing me in, Mari,” Brendan says with a soft smile, settling into the chair in front of her. The small salon space feels more like a sanctuary than a workplace—intimate and warm, much like the woman standing behind him.
Amari rolls her eyes playfully, running her hands through his curls to assess the texture. “You say that like I don’t always make time for you,” she teases, her voice light but carrying an undertone that only he can pick up on.
Brendan leans back slightly, tilting his head just enough to catch her eyes in the mirror. “That’s 'cause you spoil me. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Amari chuckles, shaking her head as she grabs her spray bottle, misting his hair lightly. The cool water trickles down his scalp, and Brendan closes his eyes, letting himself relax under her touch.
“You’d survive,” she says, her tone softening. “You’d just look a mess while doing it.”
Her hands move deftly, sectioning off his hair and working with precision. Brendan sits quietly for a moment, his usual quips and charm giving way to the comfort of the moment. There’s something about sitting between her legs, the quiet intimacy of the space, that makes him feel more at ease than he has in weeks.
“You good?” she asks, noticing his uncharacteristic silence.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, opening his eyes to look at her reflection. “Just…this. It’s nice. Feels like home, you know?”
Amari pauses for a beat, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. She’s used to Brendan’s smooth-talking, the way he can charm his way through almost anything, but moments like this—when he’s just Brendan, not Mid-Sized Sedan—catch her off guard.
“Well, you know where to find me,” she says softly, her fingers returning to his hair. “Just don’t let that head of yours get too big. Fame or no fame, you’re still just Brendan to me.”
He grins at that, his dimples deepening as he tilts his head back to look up at her. “And you’re still the only one who can handle me, Mari.”
She shakes her head, fighting back a smile as she continues her work. For all his smooth words and playful antics, there’s a sincerity in his tone that she can’t ignore. And though she’d never say it out loud, moments like these—just the two of them, quiet and close—feel like home to her, too.
Brendan tilts his head back, looking up at Amari with a soft, almost boyish smile. His eyes catch hers in the mirror for a moment before shifting up to meet her gaze directly. “What?” he asks with a playful smirk, his voice low and teasing.
Amari pauses, her hands stilling in his hair as she tries to suppress a grin. “Nothing,” she says, but her voice gives her away. There’s a warmth in her tone, a quiet fondness she’s stopped trying to hide around him.
“Don’t ‘nothing’ me,” he says, his smirk growing wider. “You’re lookin’ at me like you got something to say.”
She shakes her head, letting out a quiet laugh. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, his eyes still locked on hers. “But you like me anyway.”
Amari huffs, pretending to roll her eyes, but the way she leans closer gives her away. The tension in the air shifts, subtle but undeniable, as Brendan's smile softens. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say another word, just watches her with a quiet patience that feels more intimate than anything he’s said so far.
And then, before she can second-guess herself, Amari leans down and presses her lips to his.
It’s not planned or calculated—just a gentle, impulsive kiss, the kind born out of familiarity and unspoken connection. Brendan responds immediately, his hand instinctively reaching up to rest lightly on her leg, grounding himself in the moment.
When she finally pulls back, her cheeks are flushed, and there’s a spark of nervousness in her eyes. “I—”
But Brendan doesn’t let her finish. “You know,” he interrupts with a grin, “if I knew sittin’ in this chair would get me kissed, I would’ve booked a weekly appointment.”
Amari laughs, swatting his shoulder lightly, her embarrassment fading as quickly as it came. “You’re such a fool,” she mutters, but her smile doesn’t falter.
“Maybe,” he says, his voice quieter now, his hand still resting on her leg. “But you’re the only one I’m a fool for.”
She looks at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his tone, and for a moment, the world outside the small salon fades away. It’s just them—Brendan and Amari, the way it’s always been, but with a little more honesty between them now.
Amari smirks, her fingers combing through Brendan’s curls as she preps his next section of hair. “Since you don’t pay me the traditional way anyway,” she quips, her tone playful but edged with a teasing accusation.
Brendan raises an eyebrow, his grin spreading wide. “Oh, so that’s how you’re feelin’ today, huh?”
She shrugs, her smile unbothered. “Just sayin’. Bartering services isn’t exactly standard salon practice.”
He chuckles, leaning back a little to look up at her. “First of all, my presence alone is priceless,” he teases, his dimples on full display. “But if you’re open to negotiations…”
Amari tilts her head, feigning curiosity. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”
Without missing a beat, Brendan grins mischievously. “I think sex is a great payment,” he says, his voice smooth, as if it’s the most logical suggestion in the world.
Amari freezes for a second, her lips parting in mock shock before she bursts into laughter. “Boy, you are too much,” she says, swatting his shoulder with the back of her hand.
“I’m serious,” he says, though his grin makes it clear he’s loving the reaction he’s getting out of her. “Think about it—completely mutual exchange of services. Everybody wins.”
Amari leans closer, narrowing her eyes at him. “Oh, is that how you see it? So me busting my ass to make sure you’re camera-ready equals…” She trails off, giving him a pointed look.
Brendan doesn’t miss a beat. “Equals me bustin’ something else for you,” he says with a wink, leaning back in the chair like he just delivered the punchline of the century.
Amari stares at him for a moment, her mouth twitching as she fights to keep a straight face. “You are so stupid,” she says, finally breaking into laughter, the sound filling the small salon.
Brendan joins her, his laugh low and genuine. “You walked into that one, Mari,” he says, his voice softening as he watches her, the playful banter giving way to something warmer.
Amari shakes her head, still smiling as she resumes working on his hair. “You better be glad I like you,” she mutters.
“Oh, I know you do,” Brendan replies, his voice quieter now. “And just so you know...the offer stands.”
Amari doesn’t respond immediately, but the sly grin tugging at her lips says everything she doesn’t. Whatever this is between them—playful, complicated, and completely unconventional—it’s theirs.
“B,” Amari says firmly, her hands pausing in his hair as she looks down at him, her expression soft but serious. “We talked about this…”
Brendan’s grin falters just a bit, though the teasing spark in his eyes remains. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says, leaning back against the chair with a dramatic sigh. “No mixing business with pleasure, right?”
She arches an eyebrow, her hands resuming their work, gently detangling his curls. “Exactly. And what you’re suggesting? That’s a straight-up recipe for disaster.”
He tilts his head slightly, watching her in the mirror. “But what if it wasn’t?”
Amari lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. “What does that even mean?”
Brendan shrugs, his tone casual but his gaze more serious now. “Just sayin’, Mari. You and me? We already get each other. Maybe it wouldn’t be a disaster. Maybe it’d be...something else.”
She exhales deeply, her fingers still moving but slower now. “B,” she starts, her voice softer this time. “You know I care about you. And yeah, we have fun, but crossing that line? It’s not as simple as you make it sound.”
He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I get it. I do,” he says, his voice quieter. “But I also know what this feels like. And it’s not just fun, Mari. At least not for me.”
Amari’s hands stop completely, and she meets his eyes in the mirror. For a moment, the air between them shifts, the usual lightness replaced by something heavier, more vulnerable.
“Brendan…” she starts, but he cuts her off, turning in the chair slightly to face her directly.
“I’m not tryna push you into anything,” he says, his tone earnest. “I just...I don’t want you to think this is a joke to me. You’re more than that, Mari.”
Her heart skips a beat at the sincerity in his voice, but she forces herself to keep her composure. “I know that,” she says softly. “And that’s exactly why we have to be careful.”
Brendan studies her for a moment, then nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Alright. I hear you.”
Amari breathes a quiet sigh of relief, her hands moving back to his hair. “Good,” she says, her tone lightening as she tries to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “Now let me finish before you start talking crazy again.”
Brendan chuckles, leaning back in the chair. “No promises,” he says, but there’s a warmth in his voice that tells her he means what he said.
For now, the line between them remains intact, but the unspoken understanding lingers in the space between her hands and his hair—fragile but undeniable.
As Amari finishes the last section of Brendan’s hair, she steps back and gives his curls a quick fluff, admiring her work. “There,” she says with a satisfied smile. “You’re all set. Looking camera-ready as always.”
Brendan spins slightly in the chair, glancing at himself in the mirror. “You’re a magician, Mari,” he says, grinning as he runs a hand through his hair. “How do you always make me look this good?”
“Natural talent,” she replies, smirking as she starts cleaning up her tools. “Plus, it’s not like I’m working with bad material.”
He leans back in the chair, watching her with a lazy smile. “You know what would make this even better?”
Amari doesn’t look up, but the amused quirk of her brow gives her away. “What’s that, B?”
“Dinner,” he says casually, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You, me, some good food…my treat this time. Let me say thanks properly.”
Amari pauses, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Dinner, huh?” she asks, her tone teasing. “And here I thought I’d already been paid in charm and bad jokes.”
Brendan chuckles, standing up and brushing off his jeans. “Consider it a bonus,” he says, his grin widening. “Besides, I’m starving, and you’ve been working all day. You deserve a break.”
Amari crosses her arms, giving him a skeptical look. “This isn’t one of your smooth attempts to turn dinner into something else, is it?”
He holds up his hands in mock innocence. “Scout’s honor. Just dinner. Unless…” He smirks, and she throws a towel at him, laughing.
“Alright, alright,” she says, shaking her head. “You win. But if this turns into you trying to pitch another ‘payment plan,’ I’m walking out.”
“Deal,” Brendan says, grabbing his jacket. “Now come on, Mari. Let’s go. I know a spot that’ll change your life.”
She rolls her eyes but grabs her bag, letting him lead the way. Despite her teasing, there’s a small smile on her lips she can’t quite hide. With Brendan, nothing’s ever simple, but somehow, it’s always worth it.
Brendan leads Amari down a quiet street, the glow of neon signs lighting their way. He’s relaxed, his hands stuffed casually into his jacket pockets, while Amari walks beside him, the crisp evening air brushing against her skin.
“I know you’re used to all that fancy restaurant stuff,” Brendan says, glancing over at her with a grin. “But trust me, this place? It’s unbeatable.”
She raises an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her smile. “You mean to tell me the guy who just finished a collab with one of the biggest designers prefers a hole-in-the-wall spot?”
“Absolutely,” he replies without hesitation. “You can’t trust a place that spends more time on the presentation than the food. Here? It’s all about the flavor, Mari.”
They stop in front of a small, unassuming building with a flickering sign that reads Mama Dee’s Kitchen. The windows are fogged up, and the smell of spices wafts out as someone opens the door.
Amari hesitates, looking at the worn exterior. “This is it?”
Brendan nods, his grin widening. “This is it. Best food in the city. You’ll see.”
Inside, the place is cozy and packed, with mismatched chairs and tables crammed together. The walls are covered in photos of customers, scribbled notes of thanks, and old newspaper clippings. A jukebox in the corner plays a soulful tune, adding to the warm, lived-in vibe.
As they sit down, a woman with a big smile and even bigger energy walks over, throwing a towel over her shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t Brendan,” she says, hands on her hips. “Thought you were too big-time to visit us little folks anymore.”
Brendan laughs, standing up to give her a quick hug. “Mama Dee, you know I could never forget about you. Got someone special I wanted to bring by.”
Amari blushes slightly as Mama Dee looks her over, her sharp eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing,” she says, smiling warmly. “You keep him in line, alright? He needs it.”
“I’ll do my best,” Amari replies, smiling back as Brendan chuckles.
After taking their orders—Brendan insisting Amari tries the jerk chicken and mac and cheese—the two settle in. He leans back in his chair, watching her as she takes in the bustling atmosphere.
“So?” he asks, his voice soft but curious. “What do you think?”
Amari looks around, a small, genuine smile spreading across her lips. “I think it’s perfect,” she admits. “Way better than some pretentious rooftop spot.”
“Told you,” Brendan says, his grin triumphant.
When the food arrives, Amari is blown away. The flavors are rich and comforting, the kind of meal that feels like a hug. Brendan watches her reaction, satisfaction written all over his face.
“You weren’t kidding,” she says between bites, her tone amazed. “This might be the best food I’ve ever had.”
“I know my stuff,” he replies, winking. “Stick with me, Mari. I’ll take care of you.”
As the night goes on, the conversation flows easily, the lines between friendship and something more blurring even further. By the time they leave, Amari is convinced—this hole-in-the-wall is Brendan’s favorite for more than just the food. It’s a reflection of who he really is: unpretentious, full of heart, and unexpectedly soulful.
As they step out of Mama Dee’s Kitchen into the crisp night air, Amari hugs her jacket closer around herself. Brendan walks beside her, his hands tucked into his pockets, a satisfied smile lingering on his face from the meal.
She glances over at him, her brow furrowed slightly. “You’re about to go back to the studio tonight, aren’t you?” she asks, her tone half curious, half resigned.
Brendan chuckles, the sound low and warm. “What makes you say that?”
Amari rolls her eyes playfully. “Because I know you. You’ll eat a meal like that, and instead of relaxing, you’ll get all inspired and head straight back to work.”
He grins, shaking his head. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” she admits, slowing her pace slightly. “But do you ever just…stop? Take a night for yourself? For someone else?”
Brendan looks over at her, his expression softening. “I do,” he says after a moment. “You’re looking at it.”
Amari blinks, caught off guard. “What?”
“This,” he says, gesturing between them. “Dinner with you, taking a break to spend time with someone I actually like? That’s me stopping, Mari. That’s me taking a night.”
Her cheeks warm, and she looks away to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re such a smooth talker,” she mutters, though her tone lacks any real bite.
“It’s not talk,” Brendan says, his voice quieter now. “I mean it. But yeah, I’ll probably head back to the studio after I drop you off. There’s this hook I’ve been trying to perfect, and it’s driving me crazy.”
Amari sighs, shaking her head. “Of course you will. You’re impossible, B.”
He chuckles again, nudging her shoulder lightly. “And you wouldn’t have me any other way.”
She doesn’t respond immediately, instead focusing on the sound of their footsteps against the pavement. But as they reach her car, she turns to him, her expression softer.
“Just promise me you’ll get some sleep eventually, okay?” she says.
Brendan smirks, leaning casually against her car. “Only if you promise to keep being my favorite hairstylist-slash-dinner date.”
Amari laughs, shaking her head as she unlocks her door. “Deal.”
As she gets in, Brendan leans down, resting his arms on the window frame. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight, Mari,” he says, his voice sincere.
“Thanks for the food,” she replies, smiling. “And for the company.”
He taps the roof of her car lightly as he straightens up. “Anytime.”
As she drives off, Brendan watches her taillights disappear down the street before turning in the opposite direction. The studio’s calling, but for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel like the only place he wants to be.
-
Later that night, Amari is sprawled on her couch, wrapped in a soft throw blanket. The dim glow of her apartment’s ambient lighting casts a cozy hue over the room. She’s already undressed and in her favorite oversized t-shirt, a playlist of Brendan’s songs playing softly in the background.
As his smooth verses fill the space, she absentmindedly sips on a glass of wine, letting herself unwind after a long day. Her head bobs slightly to the beat, a small smile tugging at her lips as she listens to his voice.
Then, a soft knock breaks through the music. She freezes for a moment, her brows furrowing. It’s late—too late for unannounced visitors.
Setting her glass down, she stands and pads toward the door, her bare feet silent against the hardwood. “Who is it?” she calls out cautiously, leaning closer but not opening it just yet.
“It’s me,” comes Brendan’s familiar voice, muffled but unmistakable.
Amari sighs, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile as she unlocks the door. When she opens it, Brendan stands on the other side, hands in his pockets and an apologetic look on his face. He’s dressed in the same outfit from dinner, though his jacket is slung over one shoulder now, his curls slightly disheveled.
“B,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “What are you doing here? I thought you were heading to the studio.”
“I was,” he says, his tone low. “But I couldn’t focus. Kept thinking about you.”
Her heart skips a beat, but she quickly masks it with a raised brow. “Oh, really? And what exactly were you thinking?”
“That you’re probably here, cozy, listening to my music,” he says with a sly grin. “And I thought, ‘Why not give her the live version?’”
Amari rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the laugh that escapes her. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” he admits, stepping closer, his expression softening. “But I mean it. I just...wanted to see you again.”
She lets out a slow breath, her guard dropping slightly as she steps back to let him in. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” she teases, closing the door behind him.
Brendan surveys her apartment, the sound of his song still playing in the background. His smile widens when he hears it. “I knew it,” he says, turning to her. “You’ve got good taste, Mari.”
She shakes her head, walking past him to grab her glass of wine. “You’re impossible,” she says, though there’s no real heat in her words. “You want a drink?”
“Nah,” he says, his gaze following her. “I’m good. I didn’t come here to drink.”
His tone is softer now, and when she turns to look at him, his expression is unreadable but intense. He takes a step closer, closing the distance between them.
“B…” she starts, but the way he’s looking at her makes her words falter.
“Tell me to leave, Mari,” he says quietly, his voice steady but his eyes searching hers. “If you want me to, I’ll go. No questions, no hard feelings.”
She stares at him for a moment, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Finally, she exhales, setting her glass down on the counter.
“You’re already here,” she says softly. “Might as well stay.”
His lips curve into a slow smile, and he steps even closer, his hand brushing against hers. For now, the world outside fades away, leaving just the two of them in the quiet warmth of her apartment, his voice still crooning softly from the speakers.
Brendan walks over to her couch, sinking into it with a contented sigh. “This is nice,” he says, looking around her apartment. “Cozy, just like you.”
Amari, still standing by the counter, suddenly becomes acutely aware of what she’s wearing—or rather, what she isn’t wearing. Brendan’s eyes are on her, warm and curious, but not overtly prying. Still, the thought that her oversized t-shirt is the only thing between her and complete exposure makes her pulse quicken.
“I, uh... I’ll be right back,” she mutters, turning quickly toward her bedroom.
Brendan watches her retreat, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Take your time,” he calls after her, leaning back against the couch cushions.
Amari practically dives into her dresser, pulling out a pair of shorts. She quickly slips them on, glancing at herself in the mirror. “Get it together, Mari,” she mutters to her reflection, her cheeks flushed.
When she comes back out, Brendan has made himself at home. One arm is draped over the back of the couch, and he’s scrolling through her playlist on the speakers. He glances up when he hears her footsteps, his gaze flicking down briefly before meeting her eyes.
“Feel better now?” he teases, a knowing smirk on his face.
She narrows her eyes at him but can’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t start, B,” she warns, sitting down at the other end of the couch.
“I’m just saying,” he replies, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t mind the outfit, but if this makes you more comfortable…”
“Shut up,” she says, laughing despite herself.
They sit in companionable silence for a moment, the soft hum of music filling the space. Brendan glances over at her, his expression thoughtful.
“Thanks for letting me crash,” he says, his tone quieter now. “I know it’s late.”
Amari shrugs, leaning back into the couch. “It’s fine. You’re not exactly a stranger.”
“No,” he agrees, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. “I’m not.”
There’s something in his gaze that makes her stomach flip, but she brushes it off, reaching for her wine glass. “So, what was on your mind at the studio?” she asks, changing the subject.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Honestly? You,” he says simply.
Amari blinks, caught off guard. “Me?”
“Yeah,” he says, looking up at her. “Can’t focus when I know you’re here, all cozy, listening to my stuff. It’s distracting.”
She scoffs, though her cheeks warm. “You’ve got a whole career to worry about, B. Don’t let me get in the way of that.”
He leans back again, his smile softening. “You’re not in the way, Mari. If anything, you’re the reason I keep going back.”
Her breath catches for a moment, but she quickly hides it behind her glass, taking a sip. Brendan just watches her, his eyes filled with something she’s not quite ready to name.
“I… uh…” Amari stammers, her usual confidence faltering under Brendan’s steady gaze. She sets her wine glass down on the table, her hands suddenly fidgeting with the edge of her shirt.
Brendan’s lips twitch into a small smile, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he leans back into the couch, draping one arm over the backrest and letting his other hand rest on his thigh. “Didn’t mean to make you nervous,” he says softly, his tone teasing but gentle.
“I’m not nervous,” she says quickly, though the slight crack in her voice betrays her.
“Right,” he replies, his smile widening. “Because you’re always this jumpy, huh?”
She glares at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, here I am,” he says, gesturing around her apartment. “Somehow still your favorite headache.”
Amari huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “You give yourself way too much credit, B.”
“Maybe,” he says, his voice dropping slightly as his eyes lock onto hers. “But I think I’m right about this one.”
The air between them shifts, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, something unspoken. Amari feels her pulse quicken, her chest tightening as she searches for something—anything—to say.
“B,” she starts, her voice quieter now, “I don’t know what you’re doing, but…”
“I’m just being honest,” he cuts in, his tone serious. “You said not to let you get in the way, but you don’t get it, Mari. You’re not in the way—you’re the reason I’m still in it.”
Her breath catches, and she looks away, her hands twisting in her lap. “That’s… a lot,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I know,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “But it’s the truth. And I’m not gonna pretend it’s not.”
For a moment, neither of them speaks. The only sound is the soft hum of music in the background, one of Brendan’s slower tracks setting the mood without either of them realizing it.
Amari finally looks back at him, her eyes searching his face. “Why now?” she asks, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
“Because I’m tired of pretending like I don’t feel this way every time I’m around you,” he says simply. “And if I’m being real, I think you feel it too.”
She exhales slowly, her walls cracking just enough for him to see the conflict in her eyes. “You’re not making this easy,” she murmurs.
“I’m not trying to,” he says, his gaze unwavering. “I’m just asking you to let me in.”
Amari swallows hard, the weight of his words settling over her. She doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t know if she even needs to say anything. Brendan waits, patient and steady, giving her the space to decide.
Amari takes a deep breath, her heart racing as she looks down at him, his gaze intense yet calm, waiting for her. Something shifts in her, something undeniable, and without fully thinking, she slowly stands up. Her legs move deliberately as she straddles Brendan, her knees pressing against the couch on either side of him.
Brendan’s breath hitches at the change in position, his hands resting on her hips, his thumbs brushing the fabric of her shorts as he looks up at her, eyes dark with unspoken understanding.
“You sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and rough.
Amari meets his gaze, her own breathing shaky but steady. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice a whisper, “but I want to find out.”
He exhales slowly, his hands sliding around her waist to hold her steady, pulling her closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, the sincerity in his voice making her pulse quicken.
For a moment, they simply stay there, inches apart, the air between them thick with anticipation. Amari can feel the weight of her own hesitation, but it’s overshadowed by the pull of his presence. She lets herself fall into it, the world outside their small bubble fading as she leans down toward him.
Their lips meet in a soft, slow kiss, and the tension between them finally snaps. It’s a kiss full of unspoken words and raw connection, as if they’ve both been waiting for this moment, even if they didn’t realize it.
As the kiss deepens, Amari moves her hands to the back of his neck, threading her fingers through his hair. She can feel the warmth of his body beneath her, the steady rhythm of his breath matching hers.
Brendan responds in kind, his hands roaming slowly over her back, tracing her skin, savoring the feel of her against him. He pulls her closer, and she can feel the heat between them grow.
But even as the moment unfolds, Amari remains uncertain, the questions still swirling in her mind. She pulls back slightly, her chest heaving as she looks down at him.
“B, I…” She doesn’t know what to say.
Brendan’s hand gently cups her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin with an almost reverent touch. “Mari,” he says softly, his voice steady, “you don’t have to say anything.”
And for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. The silence between them isn’t awkward—it’s filled with understanding, trust, and something more. She doesn’t need to have all the answers right now. They’re here, in this moment, together. And that’s enough.
Brendan’s fingers trace the edge of Amari’s shirt, his touch light and tentative at first, as though giving her the chance to pull away if she wants. But Amari doesn’t move. Instead, she watches him, the anticipation making her pulse quicken. She feels the brush of his fingers against her skin, soft but deliberate, as he slowly tugs at the hem of her shirt, lifting it just enough to reveal the smoothness of her stomach.
Amari bites her lip, her chest rising and falling with each breath, her body betraying the calm she’s trying to maintain. The weight of his touch, the heat from his hands, makes her heart race, and she can’t help but shiver under his gaze.
“Are you sure about this?” he murmurs again, his voice hushed, just above a whisper, his eyes locking onto hers as his fingers linger at the fabric.
She meets his gaze, her hands resting on his shoulders for support, and there’s a softness in her eyes, something she hasn’t allowed herself to show in a while. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” she says, her voice steady despite the butterflies stirring in her stomach.
Brendan gives a small, approving smile, his thumb brushing along the hem of her shirt once more, but this time with more intent. “Then let’s make sure we take our time,” he says softly, his fingers sliding underneath the fabric, gently lifting it as though giving her the chance to stop him.
Amari’s breath catches as his hand slides beneath her shirt, his warm palm against her skin, sending a ripple of heat through her. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans down slightly, pressing her lips to his in a quiet, reassuring kiss, before drawing back to meet his eyes once more.
“Take your time, B,” she says quietly, her voice low and steady, matching the unspoken promise between them.
Once her shirt was discarded his eyes grew wide at the bareness of her.
Brendan’s breath catches in his throat when Amari’s shirt finally slips away, revealing the smoothness of her skin. His eyes widen, a mix of awe and admiration flickering across his features as he takes in the sight of her. There’s a brief moment of silence between them, filled only by the sound of their steady breaths.
Amari can feel the heat of his gaze on her, but instead of feeling exposed, she feels empowered, confident in a way she hasn’t in a while. She allows herself to meet his eyes, her chest rising and falling slowly as she watches his reaction. The intensity in his gaze is palpable, and for a moment, she allows herself to savor it.
“Damn, Mari,” he says, his voice rougher now, his hands hovering just above her skin as if unsure of how to proceed. He swallows hard, clearly trying to regain his composure. “You’re... stunning.”
Amari smiles softly, her heart fluttering at his words, but there’s also a part of her that knows this moment is more than just about physical attraction. It’s about trust. And she feels it, deep in her bones.
“Don’t just look,” she teases, her voice playful despite the vulnerability she feels. “Touch.”
At her urging, Brendan’s hands finally move, slow and careful, as he places one hand on her lower back and the other on her waist, his touch tentative but firm, as though seeking permission with each movement. She shivers at his warmth, her skin coming alive under his fingertips.
He leans in, his lips finding her shoulder, planting a soft kiss there, before trailing kisses along the curve of her neck. “You make it so damn hard to think,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice filled with the same unspoken longing.
Amari’s hands slide up to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and she lets herself sink into the moment, into the heat between them. The world outside her apartment feels like it’s fading away, leaving just the two of them, caught in a silent dance of desire and connection.
Brendan’s lips brush over the sensitive spot on Amari’s neck, and she can’t help the soft gasp that escapes her lips. Her body tenses at the sensation, a shiver running down her spine as her pulse quickens. “Fuck…” she breathes out, her voice a mix of surprise and pleasure.
He smiles against her skin, feeling the subtle tremor of her body under his touch. His hands move, pulling her closer as his lips continue to worship her neck, trailing kisses and light bites, pushing her closer to the edge of the moment.
Amari’s head tilts back instinctively, giving him more access, and she feels herself melting into the sensation, unable to hold back any longer. Her fingers thread into his hair, tugging him slightly as she whispers his name.
“B…” The word comes out almost like a plea, a quiet invitation for more.
Brendan’s breath hitches as he feels her grip on him tighten. He pauses for a second, looking up at her, his face inches from hers, the heat between them undeniable. “You good?” he asks, his voice low, but full of concern, needing her to be comfortable.
Her breath comes in short gasps, but her eyes never leave his, a look of quiet intensity in them. “Yeah,” she breathes, voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions. “Just… don’t stop.”
He doesn’t need any more encouragement. With a quiet chuckle, he leans in again, his hands moving to her hips as he pulls her closer, guiding her to where they both know the moment will lead.
Amari pulls back slightly, her breath shallow as she meets Brendan's eyes. Her heart races, but it’s not from the desire anymore. The weight of their earlier conversation in the shop—about boundaries, about where they stand—starts to flood her thoughts. She can feel the uncertainty creeping in, clouding the intensity of the moment.
“B…” she says again, this time her voice soft but firm, a quiet hesitation in her tone.
Brendan freezes, sensing the shift in her energy. His hand lingers on her waist, his gaze searching hers for understanding. He can feel the tension in the air, the way her body language has changed, and he immediately pulls back slightly, giving her the space she needs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice gentle, no longer carrying the earlier playfulness. Instead, it’s full of care and concern, knowing something has shifted for her.
Amari runs a hand through her hair, her mind racing. She tries to focus, to make sense of the confusion swirling inside her. “We talked about this before, you know? What this is, or isn’t…” She trails off, unsure of how to voice everything she’s feeling.
Brendan nods slowly, his eyes softening with understanding. “Yeah, I remember. I’m not trying to push you, Mari,” he says, his tone steady and reassuring. “I get it. You’ve got your own thing going on, and I don’t want to mess that up.”
She sighs, her shoulders dropping as she meets his gaze. “It’s not that… It’s just… I need to be sure. Sure about where we stand, what this is. I don’t want us getting tangled up in something neither of us really wants.”
Brendan reaches for her hand, his touch light but grounding. “I’m not here to confuse you or make things harder, Mari. If we need to slow down or take a step back, I’m all in. I just…” His voice falters for a moment, but he recovers, his sincerity clear. “I care about you. More than I let on sometimes. And I don’t want to mess that up.”
Her chest tightens at his words, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at something deep inside her. She looks at him for a long moment, taking in his earnestness. For the first time tonight, she feels like they’re both on the same page, even if they’re not entirely sure where that page leads.
“I care about you too,” she says quietly, her voice steady. “But I need to know this is more than just… than just what we’ve been doing, you know?”
Brendan nods, his thumb gently brushing her hand. “I get it. No rush. We take this however it needs to go.”
Amari exhales a shaky breath, relief washing over her. She smiles softly, grateful for his patience, for not pushing her further than she’s ready to go. They’re still in this, whatever "this" might be, but it’s okay. They’ll figure it out together.
Amari stands up and quickly grabs her shirt, trying to cover herself as she slips it back on, but her mind is still spinning from the tension that’s just simmered beneath the surface. As she pulls the fabric over her head, she mutters under her breath, “Shit! Now I’m turned on.”
Brendan watches her, his lips curving into a grin as he sees the conflicted look on her face. He leans back on the couch, his eyes never leaving her, a mix of amusement and desire in his gaze. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” he teases, his voice smooth and playful.
Amari looks at him, an eyebrow arched in mock disbelief. “You’re not helping,” she says, but there’s a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She’s still caught between wanting to hold back and the undeniable pull of their chemistry.
“Maybe I’m not supposed to,” he responds, his tone low, as his gaze slowly slides over her. “But hey, I’m happy to be the one to turn you on.”
Amari lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing a little, though she can still feel the heat building between them. “You know what? Maybe I should go.” Her words are half-serious, though she’s not sure whether she wants to leave or not. The mixed signals are throwing her off.
Brendan chuckles, the playfulness in his eyes not fading. “You can try to leave, but you’re not fooling anyone.” His voice drops to a lower pitch, more teasing. “You’re still here for a reason.”
She shakes her head, her smile widening as she walks over to him, knowing full well that she’s not going anywhere. “You’re unbelievable,” she mutters, before sitting back down next to him.
His grin deepens. “And yet, you can’t get enough.”
Amari sighs, but there’s a hint of amusement in her voice as she turns her head to face him. “You’ve got a way of making things complicated, don’t you?”
“Maybe. But I think you like it,” he says, his voice steady, eyes holding a glimmer of something deeper, something real. “We don’t have to rush, Mari. But I’m not going anywhere, either.”
Her eyes meet his, a quiet understanding passing between them. There’s no rush, no pressure. For now, they just exist in the moment, whatever it may turn into.
Brendan stands up, his movements slow, as though not wanting to leave just yet. He looks down at Amari, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Till next time," he says, his voice low but filled with warmth.
Before she can say anything, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a second longer than expected, as if the touch itself carries a promise—one that both of them are trying to make sense of.
Amari feels the tenderness of his kiss, and despite the earlier tension, she’s filled with a sense of calm. Her heart flutters for a moment, the intimacy of the gesture striking her in a way that she didn't anticipate. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a quiet assurance.
“Take care, B,” she says softly, standing up to see him to the door.
He gives her one last smile, nodding as he reaches for the doorknob. “You too, Mari. I’ll be in touch.”
With a final glance, Brendan steps out, leaving Amari standing in the doorway, a quiet sense of longing in her chest. But this time, it’s different. She’s not sure what comes next, but for the first time in a while, she feels like it might be okay to just let it unfold.
A few days later, after finishing a shoot, Brendan finds himself thinking about Amari more than he expected. He’s been caught up in work, but now that the shoot is over and the adrenaline has faded, he can’t shake the feeling that he wants to see her again. There’s something about the way they connect, the way things are between them, that keeps drawing him in.
He sends her a text: "Hey, you busy? Want to come by the penthouse tonight?"
Amari, who’s winding down from her own day, reads the message with a soft smile. She had been wondering when he would reach out again. Their last encounter had been full of mixed emotions, but she’s curious about where things could go from here.
She types back, "Yeah, I can swing by. What’s the occasion?"
Brendan’s reply is almost immediate: "No occasion. Just wanted to see you."
Her heart flutters at the simplicity of his words. She feels a rush of warmth, and despite all the complexities between them, there’s something comforting about his honesty.
“Alright, I’ll be there soon,” she types before putting her phone down. She takes a moment to freshen up, changing into something casual yet comfortable, and makes her way to his penthouse.
When she arrives, the city lights shine in the distance, casting a soft glow through the massive windows of Brendan’s high-rise. The door opens before she can even knock, and there he is, standing with a relaxed smile on his face.
"Hey," he says, stepping aside to let her in. "I’m glad you came."
She smiles back, a little more at ease this time. "You didn’t give me much of a choice," she teases, stepping inside.
He chuckles and closes the door behind her, then leads her to the living room, where the atmosphere is cozy, dimly lit by soft lighting and a few candles scattered around. It’s clear he’s made an effort to set the mood, though it’s not overly romantic—more laid-back and inviting.
“I just finished the shoot, so I’m kinda wiped,” Brendan admits, running a hand through his hair. “But I wanted to hang out for a bit. You cool with that?”
Amari nods, taking a seat on the couch. “Yeah, I’m good with that. You’re always on the go. It’s nice to see you actually relax for once.”
Brendan grins, sitting beside her. "That’s the goal," he says, kicking off his shoes and stretching out his legs. "I’m just trying to enjoy the little things."
As they sit together, the conversation flows easily, a mix of lighthearted teasing and deeper, more genuine moments. There’s no rush, no pressure, just the two of them sharing space and time together, enjoying each other’s company.
Brendan sits back on the couch, stretching out with ease, his shirt discarded after the shoot. His tattoos, scattered across his arms and chest, tell a story of their own, each one a piece of his past, his experiences. The ink blends seamlessly with his muscular build, broad shoulders and strong arms, giving him a presence that Amari can’t help but notice.
As he leans back, his posture relaxed but confident, Amari catches herself admiring him. The tattoos, the strength in his frame, the way his body seems effortless in its masculinity—it all pulls her in. She can’t help but smile to herself, feeling a familiar heat rise inside her, a quiet turn-on that she tries to push aside, but it’s there, undeniable.
“You good?” Brendan asks, noticing the smile on her lips. His voice has a teasing undertone now, aware of the effect he’s having on her but not letting on that he’s noticed.
Amari clears her throat, trying to stay composed, but there’s something about the combination of his casual ease and his striking physique that has her feeling a bit breathless. “Yeah, just… admiring your work,” she says with a playful grin, motioning to his tattoos.
Brendan chuckles, glancing down at his arms, then back to her with a raised eyebrow. “You like them?”
“I like them,” she confirms with a soft smile, her gaze lingering on his arms for a moment longer than necessary. "A lot."
He shifts, leaning in slightly, the muscles in his chest tightening as he crosses his arms over his torso, his gaze never leaving hers. "Well, if you're into that kind of thing, maybe you should get a closer look," he teases, his tone low, just enough to make her heart race again.
Amari feels a sudden wave of boldness sweep over her, but she plays it cool, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "Maybe later," she says, leaning back into the couch, though she can’t quite hide the subtle glimmer in her eyes.
Brendan watches her, the playful energy between them intensifying. "You sure? I promise, there's more where that came from."
Her smile widens, and she leans toward him slightly. “We’ll see about that.”
The tension between them simmers, the easy banter turning into something more, something deeper, but still lighthearted. They’re both aware of the pull they have on each other, but for now,they remain in the moment, no rush, no pressure. Just two people enjoying each other’s presence.
Brendan grabs the remote and casually flips on the TV, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the room. He shifts slightly on the couch, getting comfortable, and without saying much, Amari naturally leans into him, her head resting against his chest as she snuggles close. The warmth of his skin and the steady rhythm of his breathing make her feel at ease, the tension of the evening melting away.
She can feel the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her, and it brings a sense of calm she didn’t expect. His arm instinctively wraps around her, pulling her a little closer as they both sink into the quiet of the room. There’s no need for words right now; the comfort of each other’s presence speaks volumes.
Amari shifts slightly, finding a better position against him, and with a small sigh of contentment, she lets the world outside fall away. The show on the TV fades into the background as she focuses on the warmth between them.
“Comfy?” Brendan asks, his voice low, the familiar teasing undertone replaced by something a little softer, a little more sincere.
“Yeah,” Amari murmurs, her voice soft as she looks up at him. "I think I could get used to this."
He smiles, his thumb gently rubbing small circles on her arm. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
The moment feels easy and unhurried, like it could stretch on indefinitely. The connection between them is quiet but undeniably strong, and as the TV plays on in the background, they both find themselves content in the simple closeness they share.
Brendan’s voice is gentle as he asks, his fingers still tracing small circles on her arm. "Tell me about your day?"
Amari leans into him a little more, letting herself relax further into his warmth. She takes a slow breath, her thoughts drifting back to the events of her day. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but in the quiet of the moment, it feels nice to share it with him.
“Nothing too exciting,” she starts, her voice soft and comfortable. “Had a few clients come in, just the usual. Spent some time brainstorming new styles for a shoot next week. You know, just the usual hustle.”
She looks up at him, finding his gaze steady on her, his interest genuine. "And you? How was the shoot?"
Brendan smiles, his eyes lighting up slightly as he recalls the day’s events. "It went well. Long day, but it always feels good when you’re able to finish strong, you know? The crew was solid, and the photographer had some really great ideas. But honestly, I think the best part was coming home."
He tilts his head, his expression softening. “Coming home to this.”
Amari feels a warmth spread through her at his words, and a small smile tugs at her lips. “I’m glad you’re here, too,” she says quietly, her voice full of sincerity.
Brendan chuckles lightly, the mood lightening once again. "I could tell. You’ve got that smile that says you were thinking about me." His teasing tone is back, but there’s no mistaking the affection in his voice.
Amari rolls her eyes but can’t suppress the smile that grows wider. "You’re full of yourself, you know that?"
But even as she says it, she finds herself more comfortable in his presence, the day’s stress already forgotten in the easy, shared space between them. She settles deeper into him, feeling a sense of peace that she hasn’t realized she was craving.
The conversation flows between them easily, with small moments of laughter, teasing, and more serious talk about life, work, and everything in between. And as the evening continues, Amari finds herself grateful for these simple, quiet moments—the kind that remind her that, sometimes, it’s the little things that matter most.
“B….you know we’re not together right.” She says. Brendan pauses for a moment, his hand still resting on her arm as he looks down at her. Her words hang in the air between them, and the playful lightness of the moment shifts into something more serious.
“I know,” he says quietly, his voice soft but steady. His gaze meets hers, and there's a depth in his eyes that wasn’t there before. "I know we’re not together, Amari. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this… whatever this is."
Amari takes in a slow breath, the weight of the conversation settling in her chest. She hadn’t meant to bring it up like this, but the clarity of her thoughts is something she needs to express. She shifts slightly, pulling back a bit so she can look at him properly.
“I don’t want to make things messy, B,” she says, her voice steady but carrying the vulnerability that she’s been holding onto. “I care about you, but we’ve got our own lives and things to figure out. I don’t want us to get lost in something that isn’t going anywhere.”
Brendan doesn’t look offended or distant. Instead, he listens, nodding slowly, as if he’s been expecting this conversation to come at some point. He’s quiet for a long moment before he responds, his words measured but honest.
"I get it, Mari," he says, his voice low. "I respect that. I never want to make things complicated or push you into something you don’t want. I guess I just… like spending time with you." He chuckles softly, the tension easing in his own way. "I guess I was hoping it could be more, but I’m not trying to rush anything."
Amari’s heart feels a little lighter hearing that. His honesty and understanding calm some of the nerves she didn’t realize she had. She appreciates that he’s not trying to force anything or make her feel guilty for speaking her mind.
“I appreciate that, B,” she says, her eyes softening. “And I do enjoy our time together. I just don’t want us to end up in a situation where one of us gets hurt because we were too caught up in something we didn’t really want.”
Brendan nods again, this time with a more serious look in his eyes. "Yeah, I hear you. We’re on the same page."
There’s a quiet moment between them, the air a little less heavy, but still full of unspoken understanding. Amari leans back into him, but this time, it’s a bit different—more grounded, more aware of where they both stand.
“I’m glad we talked about it,” she murmurs, her voice quieter now. “It feels good to clear the air.”
“Me too,” Brendan replies softly, his arm wrapping around her again, but with a new sense of ease and respect. "And whatever this is, I’m good with it."
Amari inhales deeply, her thoughts momentarily drifting from the serious conversation to the undeniable presence of Brendan beside her. His shirtless frame, the tattoos inked across his chest and arms, the warmth radiating from his skin, all of it pulls her in once more. There’s a magnetic force in the way he sits—relaxed, confident, yet somehow still so approachable.
Her gaze lingers a moment longer, drawn to the way his muscles move beneath his skin, the subtle strength he exudes even in stillness. The connection between them shifts again, this time with an undeniable tension that neither of them can deny.
Brendan notices her change in posture, the slight shift in her body, and he watches her carefully, sensing the change in the atmosphere. A playful glint enters his eyes, but this time, it’s tempered by something deeper, something more introspective. He knows what she’s feeling, and he feels it too, but there’s a new understanding in the way he waits for her to decide how she wants to navigate it.
“Amari…” he says her name softly, almost as if testing the waters, his voice steady yet laced with curiosity. "You sure about this? About us?"
His question is gentle, but the underlying tension in his words makes it clear that he’s not pushing, just making sure they’re still on the same page despite the pull between them. He’s giving her the space to either step back or lean in, respecting whatever choice she makes.
Amari swallows, her heart racing a little faster, and her eyes flick up to meet his. The words she’s been holding back seem to fall away as the warmth between them intensifies, her restraint dissolving with every beat of her heart. It’s as if everything they’ve said, every conversation they’ve had, no longer matters in this moment. What’s left is simply the undeniable chemistry, the raw connection that’s always been there beneath the surface.
Without saying a word, she leans forward, her lips meeting his in a slow, deliberate kiss. It’s a kiss that says everything, that answers his question without a need for more words. She’s not backing away, not this time. And when she pulls back, her eyes are filled with a new, unspoken understanding.
“Yeah,” she says quietly, her voice full of desire, no longer guarded. “I’m sure.”
Brendan moves with a sense of purpose, his hands gently but firmly pulling Amari onto his lap. The movement is natural, like they’ve both been waiting for this, and as she settles against him, her body aligns with his effortlessly. She can feel the heat of his skin beneath her, the tension between them palpable.
For a moment, they both remain still, taking in the closeness. The feel of her body pressed against his, the rhythm of their breaths syncing, it all heightens the quiet intimacy of the moment. Amari’s heart beats faster, her pulse quickening as she realizes just how much she wants to be here, in this space, with him.
Brendan’s hands rest on her hips, fingers lightly tracing the curve of her waist as he looks up at her with a mixture of desire and tenderness. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes now, something deeper than just attraction—it’s the recognition of a connection that neither of them can ignore.
He leans in closer, his lips brushing against her neck as he whispers, "Are you sure about this, Mari?" His voice is low, husky, filled with both curiosity and something more.
Amari meets his gaze, her eyes filled with a fire that matches his. She doesn’t need to say anything this time. The way she presses herself closer to him, the way her hands find the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, speaks louder than words ever could.
The kiss deepens as they both surrender to the moment, letting the world outside fall away. There’s no more hesitation, no more second-guessing. Just the feeling of their bodies moving together, a perfect harmony of desire and connection.
The morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. Amari stirs awake, the warmth of the bed wrapping around her like a comforting cocoon. She glances over at Brendan's side of the bed, empty, before hearing the sound of running water from the bathroom. A few moments later, the door opens, and Brendan emerges, brushing his teeth casually, his expression relaxed.
Amari takes in the sight of him—shirtless, his tattoos on full display, his hair still damp from the shower. There’s a peacefulness in the way he moves, and for a second, she allows herself to simply enjoy the moment, watching him with a quiet smile.
He notices her gaze and raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He spits into the sink, wiping his mouth before turning to her. “Morning,” he says, his voice still husky from sleep.
“Morning,” she replies, her voice soft, though there's a certain warmth in her tone. She shifts slightly in the bed, pulling the shirt she borrowed tighter around her, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than she did the night before.
Brendan steps toward the bed, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “How’d you sleep?” he asks, the casual affection in his voice making her heart flutter.
“Better than I expected,” she responds, her smile growing a little. "You?"
“Same,” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed, looking at her with a mix of contentment and curiosity. “How’s everything feeling? No regrets?”
Amari chuckles softly, shaking her head. "No regrets," she says, meeting his eyes with a sense of clarity. "It’s just... I wasn’t really expecting to wake up here, but I’m not upset about it."
Brendan’s eyes soften, and he reaches over to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m glad you’re not," he says quietly, his voice serious but not overbearing. "We’re good, right?"
She nods, her gaze steady on him. “Yeah. We’re good.”
A comfortable silence falls between them, and for a moment, it feels like the world outside the room doesn’t matter. It’s just the two of them, sharing this quiet moment, free of the complexities that often come with situations like this. Amari feels a sense of peace, but also a flicker of curiosity about what comes next.
“So,” she says after a beat, her smile playful as she glances up at him. “What now?”
Brendan grins, brushing his hand through his damp hair. “How about breakfast?” he suggests, standing up from the bed. “I think you deserve something other than my bed to wake up to.”
Amari chuckles, feeling the ease between them. “Sounds good to me.”
“Did we have sex last night?” She asks. He smirks. “No. But we did make out.” He says.
Brendan’s smirk widens slightly as he sits back on the edge of the bed, eyeing Amari with a playful glint in his eyes. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, looking both relaxed and teasing. “No, we didn’t,” he replies with a teasing tone, “but we definitely made out.”
Amari raises an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and curiosity crossing her face. She tries to remember the details of the night before, but the haze of sleep and the overwhelming intimacy of it all makes it hard to pinpoint.
“Honestly?” she asks, sounding slightly surprised but not disappointed. “I don’t even remember how we ended up here. I guess we really just... kept things low-key, huh?”
Brendan chuckles, shifting his position to face her more directly. “I think we both just enjoyed being around each other last night,” he says thoughtfully, “and decided not to rush anything. And honestly, it was nice not to have to jump into anything.”
Amari laughs lightly, finally feeling a sense of ease. “Well, I’m glad that we weren’t in some weird, blurry ‘morning after’ situation, then,” she says with a smirk, clearly relieved.
“No weirdness,” Brendan assures her with a wink, leaning forward a little. “Just us, being real and honest.”
There’s a moment of understanding between them, a quiet acknowledgment that whatever their dynamic is, it’s not something either of them needs to rush into or label immediately. It’s comfortable, and there’s no pressure to make it anything more than it is right now.
“Alright,” Amari says, finally sitting up and stretching. “So, no wild stories to tell about last night, huh?”
“Not unless you count making out like teenagers,” he says, grinning. “But if you’re asking for wild... that’s definitely a ‘maybe’ for later.”
Amari laughs, the tension easing further between them. “Good to know. So, breakfast?”
“Definitely,” Brendan says with a smile, extending a hand to help her up. “Let’s see if I can cook something edible, or if we’re stuck ordering takeout.”
“But first.” He says as he kisses her again. Amari smiles, her eyes meeting his with a mix of amusement and something deeper, more drawn to the unspoken connection they’re sharing. She doesn’t say anything at first, letting the moment unfold naturally. Then, without hesitation, Brendan leans in and presses his lips to hers again—a soft kiss at first, slow and deliberate.
The kiss deepens as the world outside seems to fade away, and all that matters is the two of them in this quiet, intimate space. It's a reminder that, even without words, they’re both fully present with each other in this moment. The gentle pressure of his lips on hers stirs something inside her, a warmth that radiates from her chest.
She pulls back after a few moments, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she looks at him, her breath slightly heavier. "You’re really trying to distract me from breakfast, aren’t you?"
Brendan chuckles, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “Maybe,” he admits, his voice playful. “But I just couldn’t help myself.”
Amari shakes her head, though the smile on her lips betrays the playful banter between them. “Alright, alright,” she says, finally standing up and stretching once more. “Breakfast it is. But next time, I’m calling the shots on distractions.”
Brendan laughs, following her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll hold you to that,” he says, walking toward the kitchen. The moment of tenderness has passed, but there’s an ease and a comfort in the space between them now—no expectations, just a shared understanding of the time they’ve spent together.
Later that day she is waiting for another appointment when Brendan comes in.
Amari sits in the waiting area, flipping through a magazine, trying to pass the time before her next appointment. She’s only half-focused on the pages, her thoughts drifting back to the morning and the quiet moments she shared with Brendan. Her mind replays the kiss they’d shared before breakfast, and she can’t help but smile to herself. It was an easy, comfortable morning, but now, she’s not sure where things are going.
As she looks up, the door to the office opens, and in walks none other than Brendan. He’s dressed casually, a black hoodie over a t-shirt, his usual cool demeanor intact. When he spots her, a smile spreads across his face, and he heads toward her, clearly recognizing the surprise in her expression.
"Didn’t expect to see you here again so soon," Amari says, her voice a mix of amusement and mild surprise.
Brendan grins, leaning against the doorway. “Well, you know I can’t stay away for too long,” he teases. “Besides, I had a bit of time, so I thought I’d drop by. You look like you're waiting for something important."
She chuckles lightly, a hint of playfulness in her eyes. "I’m just killing time. Got another appointment. Nothing too exciting."
“Good thing I showed up then,” he says, stepping into the room. "I’m much more exciting than whatever you’ve got going on."
Amari raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. "I’d say you’re right. But I’m trying to keep things professional here."
Brendan smirks, clearly unfazed by her comment. “You’re always so serious. I think you just like to keep me on my toes."
"Maybe," she replies, leaning back in her chair. "But you know how it is. Can't make things too easy for you."
He moves closer, standing just a little too close for comfort. "Easy?" he repeats, his voice dropping a bit lower. "I’m not sure you’ve ever made anything easy for me, Mari."
Amari feels a spark of tension between them, but she tries to keep her composure. "I never said I would."
Brendan chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful back and forth. “Well, you’ve definitely got me hooked," he says with a wink, before taking a seat beside her.
For a moment, they sit in comfortable silence, the space between them charged with unspoken understanding. Amari wonders if this is where their dynamic is headed—casual but undeniably intense. Before she can fully process her thoughts, the receptionist calls her name, and she stands up, ready to head into her appointment.
“Guess that’s me,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Don’t go getting any ideas while I’m gone.”
Brendan laughs softly. “No promises. Catch you later, Mari.”
As she walks away, Amari can’t shake the feeling that things between them are only just beginning to get more complicated.
Amari pauses in the doorway, her hand on the handle when Brendan’s voice catches her attention. She turns to see him holding a small, elegantly wrapped box. He doesn’t say much, just a small smile on his face, as if he’s done something simple yet significant.
“Here,” he says, his voice casual, but there’s a certain sincerity behind his eyes.
She walks back towards him, a little confused but intrigued, and accepts the box. “What’s this?” she asks, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the gift.
“Open it,” Brendan replies, his gaze flicking toward the door as if he’s already halfway out.
Amari carefully unwraps the box, her curiosity piqued. Inside, she finds a key—sleek and polished, with the Mercedes logo shining in the light. Her heart skips a beat. She looks up at Brendan, speechless for a moment, before her gaze shifts outside the window. Her breath catches when she sees the G-Wagon parked outside, its dark, luxurious exterior gleaming in the sunlight.
“No... you didn’t,” she breathes, looking back at him in disbelief.
Brendan’s smirk widens as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “I did,” he says simply, his voice steady but with an underlying playfulness. “It’s yours, if you want it.”
Amari stands frozen for a moment, processing what he’s said. She walks over to the window, eyes still locked on the impressive G-Wagon. She can hardly believe it—he had to have put a lot of thought into this, a gesture that felt like more than just a gift. The weight of the gesture doesn’t escape her.
Turning back to him, her voice soft, she finally says, “Why?”
Brendan shrugs, his eyes softening a bit as he watches her. “Just thought you deserved it,” he says with a casual shrug. “It’s been a crazy few weeks. Consider it... a little thank you.”
“But—” she begins, unsure of how to respond. “This is... way more than I was expecting. You sure about this?”
Brendan steps closer to her, his expression now serious, the playful edge gone from his voice. “I’m sure. You’re not someone who just gets by on anything. You deserve something nice. And I don’t do things halfway, Mari.”
Amari’s heart races, a mix of gratitude and confusion swirling within her. She looks back at the key in her hand, the weight of it finally settling. “This is a big deal, B,” she says, her voice small but steady. “I’m not sure I know how to accept something like this.”
Brendan reaches out, gently taking her hand with the key in it. “It’s not about the car, Mari. It’s about showing you that I’m serious about being here. I want you to know I’ve got your back.”
She meets his eyes, searching for any sign of a hidden agenda, but all she sees is sincerity.
"Well..." she says after a beat, her voice still thick with emotions she hadn’t quite expected to feel. "I guess I’ll take it... but I’m not forgetting this."
Brendan smiles, the tension between them easing. "I wouldn’t want you to."
With a final look at the G-Wagon, Amari nods slowly. "Thank you, B," she says softly. "This... means more than you probably know."
Without another word, Brendan slips out the door, leaving her standing there, the weight of the key in her hand symbolizing not just the car, but the unspoken complexity of their connection.
Tags 🏷️
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @notpradagurl7 @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout
#mid sized sedan#aaron pierre#aaron pierre smut#terry richmond smut#mid sized sedan smut#mid sized sedan x oc#mid sized sedan x black reader#mid sized sedan x black!oc#terry richmond#brendan#old#aaron pierre x black!oc#aaron pierre x oc#aaron pierre x reader#Spotify
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If You Can’t Stand the Heat…
✨Pairing✨: Brendan “Mid-Size Sedan”xblack!reader
Summary🪄: Your first Christmas with your boyfriend’s parents. What could go wrong?
🚨: allusion to a deceased parent, language, pretty much all fluff💕 (aside from an overbearing mother👀)
A/N🎤: Happy New Year and belated holidays🥂✨! So clearly this did not come out when I originally planned, but I still hope yall enjoy! Also stating the other obvious in the room, for those who have seen Old were ignoring the end this character saw and in my mind he is in fact alive and well🥰 (for those who haven’t seen, sorry for the spoiler lol)
*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were found via Pinterest and Google*
“My baby boy!”
Brendan’s practically tackled by his own mother as she hurries into the brightly lit foyer hugging him tight while gently swaying back and forth. Her usual floral scent instantly takes him back to his childhood dancing around the living room and helping her in the kitchen - until his playful, mischievous ways would get the best of him that is.
“Hey ma,” he chuckles hugging her just as tight. Being away for most of the year, he admittedly missed her nearly crushing hugs.
“Cmon now Kat let the boy breathe.” Both arms attempting to carry all their luggage, his father, Devon, manages to close the door behind them using his foot. Not without needing to quickly rebalance himself from the shift of weight though. “So he can help with this luggage.”
“Oh, I got it!”
Both his parents seem to freeze at the new unfamiliar voice, quickly peeking past their son to the figure waving and moving closer. “Now who in the hell..?,” his mother thinks watching the black curls atop your head bounce with every step until you stop beside her son.
“Nah, it’s okay baby imma get it.”
And when he pecks your temple - making that sweet smile on your glossy lips brighten like the shimmering lights on the miniature Christmas tree in the corner - Devon can already see the flames and chaos swirling in his wife’s mind. “Oh lord, here we go.”
“Brendan,” although smiling herself, Katherine’s is clearly one mixed with confusion looking between the both of you, “w-who is your uh..little guest here?”
“This is my girl-,”
Everything muted after hearing that. Girlfriend? When did this happen? And why did she not know until now? Being his mother, she should’ve been the first to know! God knows what this little girl had planned up her sleeve for her innocent baby boy.
“It’s nice to finally meet you!” Katherine manages to snap out of her trance just in time to watch you move towards her with arm extended after shaking Devon’s hand. “Brendan’s told me so much about both of you.”
“Aw that’s so nice. Sadly I’ve heard nothing of you though sweetheart.” That hit you just as she expected, making your smile falter and dim as her son nervously rubbed at the back of his neck.
“Not that I wasn’t plannin’ to,” he quickly tries to rectify. “But from the interviews and studio sessions-,”
“The other week you sent me that beat you were working on. Sounds like a perfect time to me.”
Devon could read his boy just as well as his mother, and he might as well have ‘SOS’ tattooed on his forehead right about now. This ship was sinking faster than a boat made of Swiss cheese in the middle of summer, and he couldn’t just let him drown.
Quickly clearing his throat, he successfully gains everyone’s attention - for now at least, “B why don’t you uh show us around this place.”
-
Sat in the middle of the California king bed - white comforter and sheet just as pristine as fresh snow blanketing your newly washed and moisturized legs - you can’t stop replaying the events from dinner in your head. Overall you’d say it was nice, all of you talking and laughing while enjoying your homemade chicken pot pie. Brendan’s dad even complimented you saying it reminded him of something his own grandmother would’ve made.
Katherine, however, didn’t appear too impressed. About a few things besides the food really.
“It’s good sweetheart, a tad bit salty, but alright,” she curtly smiled. And maybe it was just you, but you wondered if that was just a teaser for things to come.
“Does your mom like me?,” you ask as soon as your boyfriend exits the bathroom with black, satin durag in hand.
“Course she does. Why? She say somethin?”
“No, I just…” you frustratedly sigh partly regretting bringing it up as you toy with the sterling silver chain around your wrist. Specifically the one that matched Brendan’s. “I dunno I get this feeling.”
Fingers securing the last knot, his hand reaches for yours pulling you closer into his side as he slides into bed himself. The mint from his lips prickling against your temple as he places two kisses there. “Bae everything’s fine, alright? If my ma had an issue, trust she’ll say it.”
•
“I don’t like her.”
Since closing the door to their hotel-like suite of a guest room, Katherine hadn’t stopped complaining and running her mouth about you.
“I bet she invited herself tryin to squeeze her way in.”
“I dunno where she got that recipe from but it ain’t all that. And you heard how she call herself decorating everything? Tuh, Ray Charles could do better.”
Devon just wanted to watch his Lakers in peace.
“Kat just give the girl a chance. You don’t even know her.”
“And I don’t want to,” she answers walking out the bathroom rubbing some sort of cream on her arms. “Brendan‘s soon gonna be over her like all the rest.”
“You never know,” her husband simply sighs, adjusting the pillow under his chin. To anyone else, it would just be a menial statement, however Katherine could sense there was something more her dear husband might be hiding.
Turning off the flatscreen and crossing her arms across her chest, Devon’s now equally as frustrated as his wife throwing his hands out with an “Aye!,” and silently wishing he snuck to the theater room while she was in the shower.
“You knew she was gonna be here didn’t you?”
“No!”
“But you knew about her,” she states pointing a signature red manicured finger.
He might as well forget about the game. She was gonna be at this all night. “Did he outright say something? No, but from what he asked I figured there was somebody.”
“Andd?,” she asks twisting her wrist, urging Devon to come out with the rest already. “What’d he ask?”
“Father son confidentiality,” he smirks holding his hands up in surrender.
“Bullshit, I carried that big headed boy for almost 10 months you better start talking Dee.”
He chuckles knowing she’d say that. “Stuff about our relationship: how I knew you were the one, being long distance, marriage-,”
“Marriage?! They just met!”
“We don’t know-,”
“Oh lord,” she gasps beginning to pace, “she’s pregnant!”
“Nah, I don’t think-,”
“That’s why he’s thinking of marriage, meanwhile jezebel thinking she’s gettin a free ride. And the baby might not even be his!”
His wife really needed to stop watching those made for tv movies. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he can easily reach out and gently grip Katherine’s elbow guiding his worried wife to sit beside him.
“Relax alright? You gettin all worked up for potentially nothing,” he states pecking her temple.
“But-,”
“Get to know the girl, please. For the sake of Brendan.” Kat’s little huff is enough of an acceptable answer that he’s turning the tv back on hoping to finish the remainder of the game.
Katherine’s mind was already made up though, and this girl wasn’t about to mess with her baby and ruin everything he had. A mother’s intuition was never wrong, and she knew what needed to be done.
-
It had only been three days and you were sure you’d somehow been transported to hell at some point in your sleep. If it wasn’t her little comments about you, Katherine was either squeezing her way in your alone time with Brendan or finding a way to exclude you.
The movie night you and Brendan planned in the theater room when his parents were asleep? Crashed by her claiming she couldn’t sleep. The trip to a local tree farm to see all the Christmas lights that was supposed to be all four of you? She swears you told her you weren’t ‘feeling great’ before you went to the restroom, prompting them to leave you home.
“Maybe we can go again after Christmas?,” she suggested when they returned.
“Yea maybe,” you replied with your most saccharine smile similar to the one on her own lips.
With everyone still asleep upstairs, you took advantage of your alone time to bake your signature molasses cookies passed down to you from your mother. Like her, baking always brought you peace and filled you with fond memories of big laughs, messy hands, and flour in your hair and mysteriously on the ceiling.
“Momma I really need you right now,” you quietly speak to the open air as you mix your ingredients together finalizing your dough.
The sound of the hand mixer covers Katherine’s footsteps causing you to jump when you feel her presence over your shoulder.
“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you.” You really hated that nickname. Especially when it came from her mouth and would then usually come with some snide comment. “Thought you heard me when I said good mornin.”
“It’s okay and no, my mind’s uh somewhere else.”
“Yea these cookies,” she smiles watching you cutout various holiday themed shapes. “Looks like you got a good mess here too.”
Here we go. Luckily your back was towards her as she readied her coffee, giving you freedom to roll your eyes without getting caught. “Yea, I know,” you nervously chuckle. “I’m almost done though so I’ll get to them in a minute.”
“S’why you should really clean as you go. Less to do in the end.”
“True, but I get so wrapped up with-,”
“Brown and regular sugar?,” she asks noticing both containers on the counter. “They’ll be too sweet.”
Was she really trying to tell you how to make something you’ve done since you were able to walk? “No, they’ll be fine. I’ve made it plenty times before.”
“Doesn’t mean it can’t be tweaked though,” she innocently shrugs.
“Also true,” you forcibly smile feeling your skin begin to heat with frustration, “but this one is fine. It’s my mom’s recipe.”
“Two wrongs don’t make a right sweetheart.” And at that, you snapped unable to take anymore. You left your mess, your tools, and dough just needing to get away before your mouth and anger made you do something you’d regret.
You didn’t even speak to Devon as you rushed past making his brows furrow not used to you in an unpleasant mood. Seeing his wife also in the kitchen - calmly drinking out of a mug - he can guess what might’ve been the cause though. “What did you do?”
“Nothin,” Katherine answers nonchalantly before dipping a spoon into the leftover dough for a taste. “Hm, not too sweet like she said. Girl a little Miss Betty Crocker.”
“You know who you actin like right?”
“I know you betta not say who I think.”
“And because you thinking it means it’s true,” he retorts. “Bein’ just like my momma.”
“Aht, take it back!,” she points her spoon placing her mug down. “That woman never liked me from the start and let me know it. Shoot I think she still don’t like me.”
“And you not doing the same thing? That girl’s been nothing but nice and respectful to you when anybody else would’ve been said something.
His words clearly have some affect how her once stubborn expression turns soft. Her previous actions and words now all she can think of reminding her of the woman she swore she’d never be like when she had kids.
“You know you wrong Kat.”
•
“Where you goin?,” Brendan asks watching you throw your clothes in your suitcase unzipped and wide open on the floor of his walk in closet.
“Home.”
“Home? Why you-,”
“Look I know you wanted all of us to be together for Christmas, but this ain’t working B,” you answer with watery eyes still focused on the task in front of you.
“What do you mean? Aye, stop and look at me.” Gently gripping your wrists, he manages to halt your frantic packing so you’ll meet his worried eyes turning a bluish hue. “Tell me what happened.”
“I can’t with your mom and her little comments anymore,” you quietly admit. “She clearly doesn’t like me and I’m not staying somewhere I’m not wanted.”
“You are wanted. This is my house and I say you stay, alright? My ma just…takes some getting used to. And once she warms up to you-,”
Such a momma’s boy answer. “You mean if she wants to warm up to me,” you retort slipping out of his grip to return to your packing.
“I get it,” Brendan sighs, “she can be a lot. It’s just how she is though.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to deal with or accept it for the sake of your comfort.”
“Hold up, you calling me weak now?,” he asks stepping closer to you.
Slamming your suitcase shut, your arms cross over your chest looking up at the 6’3 man in front of you not daring to stand down. “No, I’m saying you’re a loyal son, which I love. But that loyalty is putting me in an environment I don’t feel safe or protected in.” You hope his silence means he’s finally taking in your words. “So I think it’s best I leave.”
He tries once more to clutch your arm as you pass, softly calling out your name, but you move just out of reach. “I’ll text when I get to my place.”
-
At the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, Katherine quickly stands to see you with your suitcase and Brendan on your heels trying to get your attention.
“Bae I’ll handle it, just stay. Please,” he whispers.
“My Uber’s already on the way,” you reply sniffling.
“You can’t leave!,” she states making you pause just as the both of you finish your decent. One look at your reddened, tired eyes from crying and she can feel her heart break knowing she was the cause. “Listen I-,”
“Ma I don’t know what the problem is, but you need to relax,” Brendan interrupts standing in between the two most important women in his life.
“Brendan-,”
“Look I love you ma, but I can’t have you mistreating the other woman I love.” His head turns towards you - twists swishing back and forth - so you can see the sincerity and deep love behind those hypnotizing eyes. Their intensity making you breath catch in your throat and more tears ready to run. “My future wife and mother of my kids.
Even Katherine’s ready to sob at her son’s words. Anyone could see the love between you two, and at the end of the day she knew you were good for Brendan - bringing out the best in him and making him happier than she’s seen in a while - but her protective, mothering nature just couldn’t accept she might not be needed anymore.
“Thank you,” you mouth reaching for his hand to peck his knuckles.
“So whatever issue you got, handle it now or else don’t worry about coming back,” Brendan finishes with you under his arm.
“Excuse me?,” Katherine asks with an amused tilt to her lips and hands on her hips. He could feel everyone looking at him as if he’d lost his mind with that last statement, and while it felt good he admittedly might’ve gone too far.
“R-Respectfully I mean,” he quickly corrects.
“I’ll let it slide this time,” she says jokingly smacking his shoulder. “You’re right though. This whole trip I haven’t given your lovely girlfriend a chance and I’m sorry. I’ve had that happen to me and know how much it hurts, so I should’ve known better. That mama bear decided to rear her head and got the best of me.
She sighs wiping away the couple tears that managed to fall on her cheeks, “You two really do make a beautiful couple and I’m glad my boy met someone truly good for him. I’m so sorry again and know it’ll take some time, but hope you can eventually forgive me.”
“Thank you for apologizing,” you softly smile, “and hey, can’t have the holidays without some drama right?”
“I guess not,” she giggles along with Brendan and Devon. “But from here on out no more.”
Holding out her arms, she’s a bit surprised when you immediately accept her hug. Both of you holding each other tight as if the morning’s earlier events never happened. “To new beginnings and starting over.”
#Brendan Mid Size Sedan#Brendan Mid Size Sedanxreader#Brendan Mid Size Sedanxwoc#Brendan Mid Size Sedanxblackreader#Old#aaron pierre x black reader#aaron pierre#Aaron pierrexreader
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Did somebody say old white-haired Crane?
it was me, I said that
#I just randomly thought holy shit what would Jon look like if he got even older#and his hair greyed so much it turned white#the voices made me draw it#fehhie's art#my art#jonathan crane#scarecrow#the scarecrow#dc#batman#art#fanart#sketch#aged#old#sexy old man#quick sketch#my pookie#my bear
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who was this diva exactly
#selfie#OLD#for those of u weirdos who mention that#I just randomly found it#look at the horrible hair extensions
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#half ratting in this champagne weather with my chuckaboo#I’m so into these!#victorian#which ones do u love?#and which one do u love the most out of all of em?#Victorian slang#history#words#cute#funny#cottagecore#old#vintage
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The one post I have been WAITING a long time to bring back- the most recent (and probably final, I have no reason to redesign these enough to where they need a new reference) set of Nextgen references.
#kirby#my art#nextgenerationau#old#old art#marx kirby#magolor#bandana waddle dee#pikeknight#king dedede#gooey kirby#meta knight#morpho knight#papi kirby#kirby gsa#sir arthur kirby#adeleine#ribbon kirby#susie haltmann#taranza#rick kine and coo#zan partizanne#flamberge#francisca kirby#hyness kirby#prince fluff#elfilin#fecto elfilin#sir dragato#sir falspar
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The beach that makes you old
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✧ old-time music pngs
f2u! reblogs very appreciated! ↳ self indulgent!!
i trrrried to make this old-timey themed!! >:) anyway it was fun to find these
#my resources ✧#graphics#rentry#rentry graphics#sntry#sntry graphics#bundlrs#bundlrs graphics#layouts#tumblr layouts#stellular#pngs#random pngs#transparent pngs#aesthetic pngs#transparent png#transparents#frames#heart shaped#images#blogging#pictures#resources#rentry resources#carrd resources#music#old#old music#old time#old time music
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Built over 1000 years ago, the Château de Santenay is distinguished today by its remarkable roof of glazed tiles.
Once a fortress transformed into a bourgeois residence, it was one of the properties of the Duke of Burgundy, Philippe le Hardi, son of the king of France, Jean II. Today, the Château de Santenay, with its 95 hectares and 18 different appellations, is one of the largest vineyard estates in Burgundy.
#light academia#dark academia#classical#academia aesthetic#escapism#academia#books and libraries#classic literature#books#architecture#place#travel#destination#tourism#historic#history#historical#building#old#roof#glazed tiles#fortress#bourgeois residence#duke of burgundy#Philippe le Hardi#king of France#Jean II#Château de Santenay#vineyard#burgundy
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Tuscania,Italy
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Yall want something for him or nah
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