#she said that she was 'on it like a car bonnet' when I gently reminded her at 1.30 p.m. today

[obstinatecondolement]

Trying to wrangle my siblings into signing the shared Father's Day card is proving fucking nightmarish. Next year they can all go and fucking swivel and I am writing a solo card From Me.

[notquitetwilight]

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART ONE

The Cullanos head to Boston to take care of some business.

“Well?” Carlisle Cullano asked his wife from across the table. “How does Boston pizza compare to Jersey pizza?”

“It doesn’t,” Esme answered her husband automatically. “Especially not ours.”

“Typical Jersey girl,” he smirked. He looked to their daughter beside her. “Rosie?”

Rosalie wrinkled her nose, looking up at him from the slice she was chewing on. “It’s too thick. I don’t like it. But then again, Jersey pizza doesn’t compare to New York pizza, either.”

Esme gave a deep sigh and threw her daughter a look. “Really?”

“What? You know I’ll always be a Manhattanite.”

“You were born in Jersey City Med,” Esme pointedly reminded her.

“Where I was abandoned,” Rose said slowly. “…To be raised in Manhattan.”

“You weren’t abandoned at the hospital,” Carlisle countered.

“She wasn’t abandoned at all!” Esme hissed before he could continue. “How many times do we have to go through this?”

“I know, I know, you were just kids, younger than I am now,” Rose waved the hand that wasn’t holding a pizza slice dismissively. “I’m over it. But I don’t know why you always get mad at me for saying I’m a New Yorker when you’re the ones who chose not to raise me in Jersey. Well, chose not to raise me at all.”

A tense silence fell over them. Rose lowered her eyes to the table of their booth as she continued chewing. Esme glowered out the window, her jaw clenched. Carlisle nudged his foot against her leg in an attempt to comfort her, but she ignored him.

It was a little over a year since the couple had gotten their daughter back. Though she had left her adoptive family and seemed to have settled into their lifestyle, the topic of their lost time together still occasionally raised its head.

The couple had had her at the tender age of 17, unbeknownst to their families. Both of them decided they were too young, too broke and already too involved in the mafia game to raise her themselves. She was adopted by the Hales, a wealthy couple of lawyers who raised her in a Manhattan townhouse and gave her the finest private education New York City had to offer. Carlisle and Esme secretly watched her grow from park benches and the back of school auditoriums. They never interacted with her or allowed her to see them, but watching her grow up safe and happy from a distance filled the void that giving her up had left.

Well, it did, until it didn’t. A year and a half ago, right before the couple finally married, Esme’s sister gave birth to her first child. The family rejoiced in the arrival of the baby boy, with Esme’s mother proudly parading her “first grandchild” around. “Aren’t you jealous, Esme?” Mrs. Platt had asked at the wedding. “You hate it when others have something you don’t.”

“No, mom, I don’t get jealous,” came her answer. Carlisle stifled a laugh at that. The death certificate of his previous wife proved otherwise.

“I always thought you’d be the one to give me my first,” Mrs. Platt continued, causing her daughter to bristle. “But your little sister has beaten you to it.”

Esme’s knuckles went white around the champaign glass she held. “She’s just drunk, baby,” Carlisle muttered in her ear. “Fuggedaboutit.”

But it didn’t matter. Esme’s moods worsened in the weeks that followed as she grieved 17 years’ worth of parenting the daughter they tried to do right by. She stopped parking outside the Hales’ Upper East Side building in hopes of catching a glimpse of the girl, or regularly checking her social media pages for updates on how she was doing. Carlisle knew it had become too difficult for her, particularly when her sister got to be a mother so openly. Mrs. Platt was right; Esme hated going without what others had. And Carlisle could never let her go without.

So one day, he pulled his yellow Alfa Romeo into the garage of the couple’s home and paged Esme to meet him there. “Hey doll,” he greeted her from against the bonnet as she entered and closed the door behind her. “I gotcha somethin’.”

She looked around in confusion. Normally when he asked her to come to the garage it meant he had bought her a new car. “What?” She wondered, but before her husband could respond, she was answered by a chorus of thumping and muffled screaming from the trunk.

“Who’s in there?” Esme asked, bored. Visitors to their home arriving by car trunk wasn’t exactly new. He grinned at her smugly as the thumping continued. “What?” She said again, but he could tell he had piqued her interest. He sauntered over to the trunk and opened it, a flurry of blond immediately lunging at him from inside. Esme instinctively reacted with a raised gun, but as Carlisle restrained the girl, her eyes widened and she lowered her weapon. “Is that…?”

He beamed at her as Rosalie struggled in his arms. Her wrists and ankles were tied, but still she writhed around. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and fear, and duct tape covered her mouth. “Take that thing off of her,” Esme commanded. “I wanna proper look.”

“Hold still or it’ll hurt,” Carlisle told the girl. She stopped wriggling long enough that he could gently remove the tape without ripping her skin. She immediately attempted to bite his hand, but he was too fast. Then came an ear-piercing screech that caused both adults to wince, but Esme was smiling.

“You wait,” Rosalie said once she was finished screaming, her voice hoarse. “Just you wait. If it’s money you want, good luck. You might as well kill me now.”

“She looks just like you,” Esme said as if she hadn’t heard her, though she didn’t take her eyes off the girl. “We knew it already, but up close, it’s crazy. I didn’t get a look-in.”

Rosalie’s face contorted to an expression of both confusion and disgust. “What the fuck…?”

Carlisle laughed at her exaggerated expressiveness; the narrowed eyes, the over-the-top frown, the grimace that caused her cheeks to apple. He had seen Esme pull that face a million times before. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he told her as they both went back to staring at Rosalie — who was attempting to naw at the rope around her wrists — with the kind of fascination people usually reserved for newborn babies.

“Carl, untie her,” Esme instructed. He gave her a hard look, thinking it was a terrible idea. She arched an eyebrow in response, and he knew better than to argue with her.

“Wait ‘til my father hears about this,” Rose grumbled as he began cutting through the thick rope. That amused him, and he couldn’t help but grin. “What’s so funny?” She demanded.

He shook his head. “Nothin’,” he tried, but he heard Esme giggle and he started laughing again.

Rosalie’s face flushed angrily as she looked wildly from her almost-free hands to Esme and then to Carlisle. “I said, what’s. So. Funny?” She said it slowly and punctuated, as if she thought he was stupid. Esme’s laugh was turning into the loud cackle she gave when she was particularly thrilled. He sniffed with a smile and shook his head again.

Rosalie was then red-faced, her eyes flashing with rage. “What the fuck is so funny, you piece of shit?”

The couple collapsed into full belly-laughs for what had to have been at least a full minute as Rosalie could do nothing but glare. “It’s funny—“ Carlisle started, pausing to try and compose himself. “It’s funny that you said ‘wait ‘til my father hears about this,’ because I am your father.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes, irritated. She clearly thought that was his lame attempt at a joke.

“It’s true, saweetie,” Esme tried to turn her amusement into a sincere-looking smile. “Your our daughter. I’m your mommy! Were you ever told you were adopted?”

“What kind of weirdos are you?” Rosalie mused, her eyes still narrowed. “Don’t normal kidnappers just tie someone up and leave them be ‘til they’re paid ransom or get arrested? What is this, some sort of house-play shit? I saw something about that on TLC once.”

“Look, princess,” Carlisle started, struggling to get the blade through another bit of rope. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s the truth. I didn’t bundle you up in my car for money, or to hurt you. I bundled you up in my car to bring ya home, where you belong. We’ve missed you your whole life, and now that you’re a lil’ older, we’d love to make up for lost time.”

She looked silently from one to the other. Carlisle could see that it would take a while to convince her. She was suspicious, defensive, and unyieldingly stubborn. Just like her parents.

“Whadiya say, kid?” He smiled at her. “Wontcha give your ol’ man a hug?”

The last of the rope snapped and Rosalie immediately punched him so hard in the nose that it made a horrible crack. He held it as she tried getting away, having seemingly forgotten about the rope around her ankles.

The pair of them allowed her to hop around the garage as both exits were locked. Esme handed him a tissue for his bloody nose and they stood side-by-side against the car, watching Rosalie noisily hunt for something she could either free her ankles or hurt them with. It took him a second to realise Esme was quietly crying.

“Don’t worry, doll,” he put a consoling arm around her and pulled her into him. “She’ll come round eventually. She just needs time. And maybe a car, or a pony, or whadevathefuck teen girls are into deeze days. Whadeva it takes, we’ll do it.”

“It’s not that,” Esme swiped at her tears and turned to him. He was surprised to see she was smiling.

“Then what? What is it, baby?”

Esme wiped another tear away as she proudly cried, “she’s got my uppercut!”

Getting the three of them to work as a family unit had been no easy feat. After showing her the paperwork that proved they were her biological parents, the couple brought Rosalie back to her adoptive home the same evening they had taken her from it in an attempt to show her they were no danger. She didn’t tell the Hales about what had happened, instead blaming her broken curfew on losing track of time while at a friend’s house. Carlisle knew that this was more out of anger at them for lying to her her whole life than it was out of loyalty to the Cullanos. The couple returned to watching her, but this time it was on a daily basis, and they made sure she saw them either by waving across the street or approaching her if she was alone. They often arrived with bribes, but she rolled her eyes each time.

“Hi, Rosalieeee,” Esme sung one day, the two of them having waited for her to get home at the corner of her block. “How was school?”

“Get lost,” Rose muttered as she went to walk past them as usual. Carlisle caught her arm, so she begrudgingly came to a halt and rounded on them with a glare. “What? What do you want?”

“I bought us matchin’ Birkins!” Esme said excitedly, unfazed by Rosalie’s attitude. She held up her arms, each hand gripping the handles of a bag.

“I already have expensive bags. I don’t need more. You know what? I already have parents, too.”

“Who had about as much of a hand in raisin’ you as we did,” Carlisle said. “Tell me, Rosie, which nanny was it you used to mistake for your motha?”

She flinched for a second before recovering her steely expression. “I told you not to call me that. You don’t get to give me a nickname. You don’t get to ask me how my day was. You don’t get to wait around for me every single day. Seriously, you’re both stalkers. You’re already breaking the law by seeking me out before I’m 18. Stop before I call the police and report you for harassment.”

“I don’t think you will,” Esme said gently.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so confident?”

“If that’s what you wanted, you’d have done it already.”

There was a pause. Esme took her chance to hand Carlisle a bag, freeing a hand to caress Rosalie’s arm. “Look, sweetheart. All we’re askin’ for is for you to get to know us. If you get to know us, and you decide you want nothin’ to do with us, we’ll walk away, no questions asked.”

Rosalie considered this for a moment, then looked back and forth at the two of them. “You swear?”

Carlisle traced the cross-my-heart motion on his chest. “Hope to die.”

“Promise,” Esme said firmly.

She let out a sigh. “Fine. But how will it work? I can’t just disappear to go live with you. I’m in my senior year, and my parents would have the mayor turn the city upside-down looking for me.”

“Well, they work ‘til late, right? So we’ll start pickin’ you up from school, and get you back before they come home,” Carlisle said.

“No, you can’t pick me up. Friends will see me getting into some random car. Plus, I’ll have homework...studying....that kinda thing.”

“Ahrite-ahrite,” he nodded. “Responsible, I like it. Education is very impawtant.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, it seems to have played a huge role in your life.”

“How about we get you a cell that you can use specifically for us?” Esme asked. “And you can call or text us whenever you’re finished with schoolwork? We can take ya out to eat or...well, do whateva you wanna do.”

Rosalie paused again. “Do I get to pick the phone?”

“Of course,” Esme smiled. She had told Carlisle the bribes would pay off eventually.

“What about your...business?” Rosalie asked curiously. They hadn’t explicitly told her what they did, but she was bright enough to guess.

“We do most of our work at night, anyway,” Esme answered.

And so the months that followed were filled with evening family bonding. Rosalie would call or text, they’d go out to eat, do different things around NYC or Jersey City, drop her home, go take care of business, get home either a little before or after dawn, and sleep while she was at school. She seemed to enjoy her time with them; she never said she was happy to continue allowing them to be in her life, but she never again brought up wanting them to leave her alone, either. So they continued the way they were as her 18th birthday drew closer.

One evening, when the family had gone go-karting, Carlisle noticed Rosalie’s ability to drive with extraordinary speed and precision. He decided to test it out in an actual car, just the two of them, and was thrilled to discover this skill was transferable.

“Guess what, baby?” He approached Esme from behind at their kitchen counter the next afternoon, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

“What?” She smiled sleepily as she prepared breakfast, though it was 1pm.

“I think I’ve found us a driver.”

“Really? Who?”

“Rosie.”

She frowned and pulled away so she could properly look him in the face. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Remember how great she was when we went go-kartin’? Well, I brought her to a track last night and she was amazin’. Turns out she’s actually really into cars — kid knows more about ‘em than me!”

“First of all, drivin’ round an empty racetrack at night is very different from drivin’ the streets when you’re fleein’ a scene or bein’ chased,” Esme said, pulling fully out of his arms and heading for the sink. “Second, Rosie’s goin’ to college.”

“Whadiyamean, she’s goin’ to college?”

“I mean what the fuck I said: she’s goin’ to college!”

“We just got the kid back and now you’re gonna send her off to some otha parta the country to go to college?”

She turned back to him with a glare. “The whole reason we left her in the first place was so that she could have a normal life. College is a normal life.”

“Normal life? She was bounced around from nanny to nanny! We didn’t give her a life with normal parents, we gave her human cash cows and babysitters!”

“Well, at least she was safe.”

“We’d never let anyone hurt her.”

“We couldn’t guarantee that. We still can’t. That’s why she should go to college like the rest of her friends.”

“What, because college is so safe for young girls? Have you neva read a newspaper?”

“Don’t tell me about the dangers young women face,” she practically growled.

“She’d be with us,” he said, his tone much softer. “Where else could possibly be safer for her to be than with the two people who’d die for her?”

She stared at the counter for a moment. “Her 18th is comin’ up,” she said slowly. “That’s her opportunity to decide if she wants to come live with us or not. If she does, she does; if she doesn’t, she goes to college like the private-school kid she is should. But I don’t wanna force her like we did last time. If she chooses us, I want it to be because she chooses us.”

“Okay,” Carlisle smiled, then added, “and she will.”

And she did. She turned 18, deciding to finish out the school year where she had always lived. After graduation, she packed her bags, told the Hales she knew the truth and that she was leaving them for good, and came to live in the Cullano house. The Hales were a little persistent in trying to convince her to come back to them, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved by sending Emmett, the most intimidating-looking member of the crew, over to their house to smash a couple of things up. As Carlisle had envisioned, Rose started driving for the Cullanos and their team, initially just the occasional, stress-free errand here and there. But she found it brought a certain amount of thrill and excitement her life had been missing, and so she worked her way up to riskier jobs. This trip to Boston would be her riskiest job yet.

“Is everyone done?” Carlisle now asked. Esme still had a slice left over while Rosalie sat with nothing but crust in front of her.

“Mmhmm,” Rose answered. Esme mumbled something about being full.

They gathered their things and headed back to the borrowed Bugatti that Emmett had arranged for them. Though Emmett was a Brooklyn boy, Boston was his father’s city, and he had relatives all around it. Relatives that would be more than happy to see the Cullanos through what they planned to do tonight.

Rosalie set the GPS to their hotel. “How many Ivanovs are there, again?”

“Six— well, 4 Ivanovs, a Petrov and a Ryan,” Esme answered from the back.

“Who’s the head?”

“Mmm, Tatiana. Or at least she thinks she is,” Esme smiled.

“Is she the one who...did she kill Emmett’s dad?” Rosalie met Esme’s eyes in the rear view mirror. She had developed a bit of a soft spot for Emmett over her time with them.

“No,” Carlisle answered instead. “That was Katarina and Garrett.”

“Garrett doesn’t sound very Russian.”

“Garrett is the Ryan. Irish mob, like Emmett’s dad,” Carlisle said.

“They worked together ‘til he fell for Katarina,” Esme added. “So it was a real blow when the two of them killed him. A big betrayal.”

“Then how come no one’s taken them out yet?”

“They’re powerful. Ruthless. Batshit crazy,” Carlisle said.

“Look who’s talking,” Rose said with a slight smile.

“That’s why Emmett’s mother left here and raised him in Brooklyn,” Esme said. “That’s where she grew up, so she knew she’d be safe. The Ivanovs have people everywhere around Boston. And with a target on the back of every McCarthy, stayin’ woulda been a death sentence.”

Rosalie frowned then. “If they’re that bad, what are we doing here? There’s three of us— two, technically, since I’m just the wheels. Those don’t seem like very good odds.”

“There’s also Alice, virtually,” Carlisle reminded. “She’ll be there behind every camera to tell us what we’re dealin’ with.”

“Cool, so she can say, ‘hey guys, you’re about to die’ right before we die. Helpful.”

“It is helpful,” Esme said. “Even the shortest of warnin’s can buy you just enough time to save your life.”

“Besides, we’re not plannin’ a massacre,” Carlisle said. “I’m expectin’ only one to be there. We hit ‘em, we go. Then we’re even for how they fucked us over with the Kiev deal they were supposed to facilitate.”

“So it’s...a blind hit? It doesn’t matter who you get, as long as you get one of them?”

Carlisle nodded. “But it would be...convenient, if it was Tatiana.”

Once they got back to the hotel, they freshened up and changed. The couple pulled out the stuffed bags Emmett had also organised for them. They took only what they needed, a couple of guns and knives each, and shoved the rest back under the bed.

“Don’t forget my favourite,” Carlisle smirked, waving Esme’s thigh holsters in the air.

“Never,” she said, holding up two pistols that were identical to her favourites back home. “Put them on for me?”

He knelt down, lifted up her skirt and strapped one around her right thigh. Then he moved to her left as she slotted her gun into it. After buckling the left one, he ran his hand down her inner thigh, causing her to giggle. Rosalie burst through the door of their adjoining rooms and froze as she registered them, her face immediately screwing up in disgust.

“Oh, for shit’s sake,” she said. “Get a room.”

“This is our room,” Carlisle pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “Why aren’t you in all-black?”

She was wearing head-to-toe black like they taught her, as she always did. Carlisle was dressed like an office worker from Mad Men, while Esme looked like a housewife from the 50s. Neither of them said anything.

“This isn’t one of your weird sex things, is it? Like, you can’t possibly get off on killing people together?”

The silence continued. “Ugh, don’t answer that.”

They made their way down to the car and Rosalie silently drove them to a street two blocks down from the address they’d given her. As the pair got ready, she drummed her fingers against the wheel.

“You scared?” Carlisle asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“No,” she said, a little too forcefully.

Esme leaned forward into the gap between the two front seats and put a hand under Rosalie’s chin, directing her so she could look at her intently. “Remember the plan. Stay inside the car at all times. Stay put here, lights off, engine off. Only turn it on when you see us. Or when you see people who aren’t us carryin’ guns. If that happens, you drive and you drive and you don’t ever stop. Same goes if we’re gone past, mmm, a half hour. Forty minutes, tops. There’s a loaded gun in the glovebox if you need it. Got it?” Rosalie nodded. “Good.”

“Stay safe, princess,” Carlisle kissed her on the cheek, opening his door. “Love ya.”

He closed the door and Esme took her hand and squeezed it. “Everything will be fine. But in case it isn’t, you know what to do. I love you, sweetheart.”

She nodded wordlessly again. She never said it back; it was probably still too weird for her. But she swallowed tightly. Esme brought the hand she held onto up to her lips and kissed her knuckles. She then let go and opened the door.

“Esme?” Rose choked out just as she was about to close it.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Come back to me, like you did before.”

Now Esme was the one who could do nothing but nod. And with that, she closed the door, and the couple walked off into the night.

[midnxghtsunwrites]

“ IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT ”

PAIRING —

andy barber x black! pregnant! reader

SUMMARY —

y/n knew something was wrong the moment she woke up with blood soaked sheets and a tightness in her chest.

WARNINGS —

this imagine will contain possibly extremely triggering content such as mentions of infertility, pregnancy irregularities, loss of pregnancy ( stillborn pregnancy ) , explicit language, sadness, and possible anxiety & depression under the cut

proceed with caution, viewer discretion is advised.

IT wasn't the cool draft of breeze flowing from the vent or the soft hum of the AC that woke you up from your sleep. It wasn't Andy shifting on his side of the bed or the loftiness of your two pillows or the fact that your bonnet slid off during the night.

What made you stir was the long forgotten sensation of something running down your inner thigh — the sinking feeling in your belly. Of course, you've felt it before when you were far from pregnant and set to start your period. Usually, however, you would have a gut feeling the night before which often prompted you to wear a pad to bed.

Tonight was different.

You stuck to just panties as pajamas since pregnancy made you hot when you're supposed to be cold and cold when you're supposed to be hot.

When you switch on the lamp on your side of the bed, Andy is spurred awake by the snap of the switch and the sudden influx of light. Since he was laying flat on his back, he just turns his head to look at you with squinted eyes, still adjusting to the brightness.

He furrows his eyebrows as he takes in the look of worry on your face. He knows you well enough to see that you're freaking out internally.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He begins to sit up, "Is it the baby?"

You don't want to look. You don't want to give yourself less faith than you already have. You can't look.

You've already endured years and years of being told that you would never have a child — and the one moment of happiness you got when you found out you were pregnant with your husband's baby is being stripped away. Just like that.

"I think I'm bleeding." Your voice shakes as you speak.

Andy was always the level-headed one in the relationship. Five years of being together and three years of marriage taught you that. You've seen him through his highest highs and lowest lows — lost cases and cases that kept him up at nights. But you have never seen him so panicked at something you said.

Even though his body language screams alarm, his voice is level and calm. "Okay, let's go to the hospital. I'll call ahead."

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration, "Okay." You whisper.

THE gel is cold against your stomach, shocking you into reality. You listen for the sound of your baby's heartbeat — the one that will let you know that everything is okay.

Everyone seems to be frozen as your gynecologist shifts the wand along your smooth bump. When the room is deathly silent, the only sound to be heard is your heavy exhale, Andy shakes his head, distress on his face.

"What does this..." He can't even finish his sentence. You squeeze your eyes shut. "Why can't we hear a heartbeat?"

Dr. Moore gives her patients sympathetic glances — this is the last thing she would ever wish on any woman. "I'm sorry, Andy, Y/N. It seems... Your baby doesn't have a heartbeat."

It felt like you were struck by an entire planet. Your thought maybe you didn't hear her properly. "What?"

The doctor bows her head in shame, "I am very sorry. Your baby died in utero a couple of hours ago."

Her words seem to be blocked out as you shake you head profusely. You can't breathe, you can't see, you can't even function. You felt it.

"This cannot be happening." You mumble under your breath. This doesn't feel real. Your cheeks are stained with tears at the news.

Andy is by your side, running a hand over your hair that you barely managed to pull back before you entered the hospital. He's holding back tears, but watching you break was enough for him to allow a tear to roll down his red face.

"I'm going to give you guys some time. A nurse will be in soon to discuss your options with you. I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Barber." Dr. Moore reiterates one final time before leaving you to grieve.

When she closes the door behind her, you take no time to grab on to Andy's hand and curl into him. He rests his hand on the back of your head as you sob into his shoulder.

"I know, baby. I know. I'm right here."

ANDREW was right there when the doctors induced your labor. He was right there when you had to endure a painful delivery to your baby girl. Your beautiful baby girl. He was there when you held her for the first and last time. He was there for the next week when you'd decided to stay in the hospital, needing time to come to terms with how quickly everything happened.

With just a picture of her captivating face as a memento, you guys went home. Without your baby.

You felt frozen — stuck in your mind, thinking of what it would've been like had things gone differently. You would be walking in your house with a car seat and a sleeping or babbling baby, a wide smile on your face. Andy would've been absolutely amazed at what you two had made.

Now? You don't even know how you walked out of the hospital or into the house without breaking down and getting yourself admitted into psych.

You're fixed to the threshold of the door — you couldn't move even if you wanted to, struck by a sudden wave of melancholy. All you can think of is the talks you and Andy had about your shared excitement.

"Honey." Andy's voice draws you back to earth. He's stood behind you, going through his own tide of emotions.

He couldn't even imagine the toll this is having on you.

You close your eyes and lean forward, the palms of your hands pressing against the door jamb. "I just need a minute."

"Okay." Andy nods in understanding, resorting to rubbing your back, gingerly.

Moments pass before you finally step into the house, your breathing shallow with anticipation. Andrew is close behind you, eyeing you cautiously and lovingly. He just wants to hold you, but he knows you need some time to yourself.

That's why he simply nods when you suggest that you should go take a shower and lay down.

"I'll make you some food." He tells you.

Your footsteps seem to echo against the walls seeing as you kept your shoes on. You weren't sure you had the energy to care about tracking dirt inside.

Entering the bedroom, you're overwhelmed with a surge of anger and disappointment.

The bed hadn't been touched since the night you went to the hospital and now you can see the sheet is strewn in the center of the mattress, a pool of long-since dried blood staring at you — "Fuck," You run a hand through your matted hair.

Part of you gets to scrubbing because how else would you take the nap you told Andy about? The other part wants to scrub away the reminder of that night. The panic and pure fear in your veins — in Andy's.

On your knees, sleeves rolled up, and fatigue ramming through you like a train, you attempt to wash away the painful memory. No matter how much elbow grease you put into it, the stain doesn't budge.

Thoughts flood your mind — is this a punishment? Am I getting punished for all the harmless things I've done in my life?

You press down further, sinking the springs in the mattress. The frustration is clear in your gaze — exasperated sighs escaping you. You're so caught up in your action that you don't even realize when a loud and defeated wail renders you a sobbing mess.

You don't hear Andy run up the stairs at the sound and stand at the door, eyebrows furrowed in worry and tenderness. He watches you for a second as you hunch forward and hit your hands against the bed in anger.

"I'm so sorry," You cry to no one in particular, "I should've known something or done something — I should've taken more care of you."

Tears gather in your husband's eyes as he hears your words. He wastes no time in stepping towards you and resting a hand on your shoulder. You flinch slightly, not expecting Andy to have heard you.

You can't even look at him, so disappointed and ashamed of yourself that you can't gather the courage to look your husband in the eye.

"Y/N, come here." He gently goads you to stand, his hand warm on your shoulder. When you rise to your feet, Andy pulls you into him, not caring about the snot or tears that transfer from your face to his t-shirt. He rubs a hand down your back and another over your hair and sniffles, "Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened. It wasn't your fault."

In that moment, his words meant nothing to you. They just drowned under the grief you were experiencing. It was only during the silent night when you two were laying on the couch of the living room after dumping your mattress that you realized how much his words meant to you.

With your head resting on his chest, you crane your neck up and gaze at him, watching as he stares up at the ceiling in thought.

"Andrew?" You whisper, voice cracking after hours of weeping.

He shifts his gaze to you, giving you his full attention. "Hmm?"

You take in his blue eyes which have seemed to lose its sparkle. "I love you."

He presses a sweet kiss to your lips, layered in salty tears, "I love you too."

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[one-boring-person]

Expletive.

T-800 (Terminator: Judgement Day version) x reader

Warnings: swearing, implied sexual themes

Context: The T-800 is curious about a certain word and its meaning.

A/N: yeah, this is a straight shitshow of a fic, so enjoy😅

Masterlist

"Oh, jeez." John groans as we walk back to the car, food held in hand, the boy's eyes squeezing shut as he looks away from the car his eyes were trained on before.

"What's wrong?" I cut in before the terminator following us can, giving my friend an odd look.

"There's two people fucking in that car next to ours." He clarifies, sounding appropriately grossed out by it.

"Oh." I pull a face, trying to ignore the car in question as we approach ours.

"That's disgusting." John mutters, before he climbs into the backseat, offering Sarah some food as I accompany the T-800 around to the bonnet of the car, which he lifts with ease. Pulling out some food, I begin to eat as I watch the muscular cyborg work, quietly admiring his body whilst his attention is averted from me, though my eyes do snap up to the car beside us as a particularly violent jolt moves the vehicle slightly.

"What is "fucking"?" The Terminator suddenly questions me, his gaze also drawn to the neighbouring car, his movements halted.

At his words, I nearly choke on the half-chewed food in my mouth, staring at him for a moment before I remind myself that the term is unlikely to be part of his available lexicon yet. Awkwardly, I swallow and frown, trying to think about how best to describe it.

"Er, well, the word "fucking" or "fuck" is generally used as a swear word, you know, like an expletive, but in this context it means something else. When used in this context, "to fuck" means "to have sex"." I explain, watching him as he turns his eyes back to me.

"Understood." Is all he says, having absorbed the information he seems necessary, going back to the task at hand.

Curious, I watch him work, looking up again as John steps back out of the car and comes over to us, followed by Sarah. Licking my lips out of habit, I eat some more and listen into their conversation, slowly zoning out of it as I watch the two boys a little way away from us messing around with plastic pistols, wondering what the logic behind giving a kid a toy like that was, eyeing the mother as she comes over to them and ushers them off of the road. Watching after them, I catch the last part of the conversation behind me, my head turning as I hear what is being said.

"It is in your nature to destroy yourselves." The T-800 says it so bluntly, the harsh truth resonating deep within me as I look up at the cyborg, making eye contact with him momentarily. Under his carefull gaze, I feel a shudder run through me, his features somehow caught in a flattering light, proving to me just how attached to the robot I have become in such a short space of time. Tearing my eyes away from him, I finish my food and crumple the wrapper in my hand.

"I'm gonna find somewhere to dump this. I'll be right back." I mutter, hastily stepping away from them as I locate what I'm looking for and aim for it, doing what I need to before going back to the car, climbing into the backseat with John, Sarah now having taken his place in the passenger seat. Buckling myself in, I turn my gaze out of the window as the T-800 drives off, talking with Sarah.

*

I do my best to stifle a yawn as I lean back against the truck, failing completely as I feel my exhaustion starting to catch up with me again, having slept very badly the night before. A few muscles ache from the exertion yesterday, but it's nothing I haven't felt before, so I simply ignore it, pulling my dad's old butterfly knife from my pocket, flicking out the blade and starting to twist and flip it over the back of my hand, a skill I've learned over the years. Repeating the action, I allow myself to lapse into this small rhythm, using it to calm my somewhat nervous disposition. The movement is familiar and practised, something that seems to comfort me, my hand moving deftly to avoid the sharp blade. I've only ever cut myself a few times, thankfully, but I know full well how sharp it is, and how much it hurts sometimes.

I am so enraptured by this action that I fail to notice the hulking T-800, who John has now named Uncle Bob, stepping up to me, a tool box in hand, the terminator's passive expression unchanging as always.

"You are very skilled in your actions." He suddenly comments, accented voice interrupting the trance-like state I've entered.

"Huh? Oh!" I start a little, losing concentration, the knife slipping through my fingers.

As it falls, the blade catches on the skin between my fore- and middle fingers, slicing clean through with very little give, blood quickly pouring out from the new wound. Cursing, I inspect the new wound carefully, muttering to myself.

"Oh, fuck me." I bite out, scolding myself for being careless as I bend to retrieve the knife, flicking it together again as I slip it into my pocket. Righting myself, I grunt as I suddenly find myself pushed over the bonnet of the car, a pair of strong hands gripping my waist, lips attaching themselves to mine. Surprised, I feel my eyes widen, any protests I want to make swallowed by the insistent lips, a muscular body pressing itself against mine, one of his hands moving to push up underneath my shirt. Heat rushes through me at this new development, my hands going up to grip the terminator's hair, though whether it is to pull him closer or push him away is unclear, a muffled grunt escaping me as he unexpectedly rocks his hips into mine. Taking advantage of my hesitant pleasure, the T-800 slips his tongue into my mouth, exploring and battling with mine as his kisses become more and more heated, his roaming hands pushing my shirt up my stomach, calloused palms leaving shivers in their wakes. Pushing himself closer, he rocks his hips again, one hand coming down to grasp my thigh, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist, his grip moving to my ass as I do what he says, relishing in the proximity. 

It's only when he moves to kiss and suck down my neck that I realise exactly what's happening, my eyes snapping open as I remember where we are, and why we're here. Immediately, though very reluctantly, I move my hands to the cyborg's toned chest, pushing gently on it at first, though I decide to use more force as his hand suddenly slides back down my stomach to my flies. 

"S-stop, please…" I manage to groan out through the pleasure he's somehow supplying, fighting to keep my hips from jerking into his insistent touch.

Thankfully, he pulls away almost instantly.

"What is wrong?" He questions, looking me in the eye with a near-dead stare, reminding me exactly of why this is wrong.

"We can't...we shouldn't…" I stutter, trying to regain composure, "It's wrong…"

"I am following your orders, how is that wrong?" He questions, extricating himself from me, somewhat reluctantly almost, his hands lingering on my skin as he eyes me.

I do a double take.

"My orders? When did I order you to do...that?"

"When I approached you, you became momentarily distracted and dropped your knife. As you retrieved it, you issued the command "fuck me" which I was inclined to act upon." He recites, giving my exact words.

"Oh god…" I groan, realising the error of my ways, cursing my inadvertent slip of the tongue, "I didn't mean it like that. In that context, it was just an expletive! Not a command! Though it wasn't exactly...unwelcome...but we can't do it. It's not right. Not now."

"Not right?" 

As I struggle for words, I find myself immensely grateful when John interrupts us, hoping to help the T-800 with the car engine. Smiling tightly, I turn and leave, trying to ignore the longing racing through my body.

[thesolitarystripe]

Writing Prompt # 8: A 96-year-old woman’s phone number is one digit away from that of the suicide hotline. She could have changed it long ago, but she does not mind.

Here's your TW: Talk of familial loss, mention of suicide.

I found this writing prompt on tumblr from writing-prompts-re and for whatever reason it spoke to me. I just thought, what an endearing prompt for a subject that could potentially be so dark. It is dark, it's sad, and what a rainbow a little old woman painted over it. At least, in my head. I've been slumping back into that habit of losing my motivation. I'm not sure why. I'm giving myself the grace to do what I can and not beat myself up over it. Finding this writing prompt sparked it up all over again for me. It made me really miss my grandma. While I don't think she ever had this problem, I know she would have been just as comforting as Myrtie. In a way, I think I wrote this for her. I love you Nonni! Thank you for always being a soft spot to land. Enjoy.

Another Friday evening, another Jeopardy re-run. Myrtle, or as all her friends used to call her—Myrtie sat within the comfort of her reddish, brown recliner that was much too big for her. Always a petite woman, she looked like a twelve-year-old with the way the cushions swallowed her thin limbs, but she also appeared immeasurably comfortable. Myrtie pulled up the purple knitted blanket over her knees, gently tugged up the arms of her robe over both wrists as her hands lifted, poised with knitting needles and she began to bring yet another blanket into existence. This was how Myrtie spent most of her evenings, swaddled in a plush terry cloth robe, a pair of thick socks pulled up to the calf, and her hair resting beneath a bonnet, wrapped in curlers. Beside her was a cup of decaffeinated tea and a plate of cookies. Myrtie’s hands, while weathered by 96 years of life, worked the needles flawlessly as if they were an extension of a machine designed exactly for the purpose of knitting large lounging blankets. Every so often, she would giggle over something Alex Trebek would say to the participants on the show but save from the singsong chuckle, the room was silent. Myrtie had lost her husband twenty years ago. After marrying at the age of eighteen, it had been a difficult transition into this life alone. A life without his stories, hugs and forgetfulness. Myrtie often smiled sadly, wishing now for a sock to be left out of place or for the trash to be forgotten on the side of the house on garbage day. All those little things that would always make her so furious with her spouse, they were the details she missed most. Myrtie survived much longer than most of her friends, save for one that had gone to live inside a facility. They never spoke much, Myrtie assumed that either her friend had limited access to her phone or was too busy hustling the other residents in Bingo to bother calling. Myrtie was grateful for her loving and supportive family, but they could do nothing during the lonely nights when they went home to their families. She could not blame them. So, when her phone rang every so often late at night, Myrtie would answer. When the calls first began, she thought it odd that telemarketers would call so late but she soon realized her mistake.

This night, when her landline phone rang, she picked up the corded antique beside her and spoke.

“Hello?” Her voice held that raspy quiver that all good grandmothers had.

“I think I’m done.” The voice was new to her.

“Done? Done with what sweetheart?” There was a pause, as if the other voice sensed something was off but the draw of Myrtie’s kind voice urged them on.

“With living. With the world. I’m done here.”

“Oh, surely there’s things to stick around for,” Myrtie said, fluffing out her half-knitted blanket as she tucked the phone against her shoulder and ear to better use both hands.

“I don’t have anyone.”

“You have yourself. Isn’t he worth living for?” Another beat of silence. “You sound like you’re being too hard on yourself, your importance in the world does not hang on teeter-tottering validation of other people, honey. To be loved by others is a wonderful thing but loving yourself is just as important. Why don’t you stick around for yourself?”

“I’m lonely! Why would I want to be alone?”

“That is a good question, baby. Loneliness is so hard.” Myrtie’s hands paused, her heart gave one of those familiar throbs as it related to the young soul on the other end of the phone. Loneliness was something she was well acquainted with. “Before you go, have you got time for a story?”

“Well…yeah, I guess…”

Myrtie straightened up in her recliner, stretched out her back, and sighed. “I was married at eighteen years old to the love of my life. Albert. Goodness was he handsome! Now, we spent the first few years of our marriage apart—he went off to serve our beloved country. I was so desperately lonely without him. It didn’t matter that I had friends who called me up every day, parents to have supper with at night, I even watched the neighbor’s kids next door for a little spending money, and as busy as they kept me, I could never shake that feeling. When he came back, oh, it was the best day of my life! We spent the next fifty-six years together, every day! We had five beautiful children, a handful of pets that came and went, we lived in two different states and bought over four different cars.” Myrtie sat there smiling, her knuckles buried in the thick knots of her craft. “I miss him every day, it’s been twenty years and I still roll over in bed and miss the sight of him lying there, snoring.” Myrtie laughed. “Oh Lord how he snored! It was like someone was chopping down logs all night. I hated him for it,” her laugh tapered off in that pensive way, as her heart remembered fondly the memory then internalized the pain of it. “I would give anything to hear it now.”

There was silence. Sixty seconds of silence.

“Someone’s going to miss you like that, honey.”

A soft sob rustled against the receiver of the phone.

“I don’t know who you all have in your life, but I know you have a mama and a daddy. Even if things aren’t good between you now, they’ll miss you like that. Even if you haven’t spoken in years, they’ll miss the way you laughed, the way you hugged, the way you smelled even when you were nothing but a stinky young thing! Sometimes loneliness clouds our vision of all the people we do have. It is so easy to want for something, to be lonely because what we have doesn’t live up to what we think we should have. A girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, best friend of forever, doting parents—we all have some sort of expectation. We are human and that is perfectly all right. I’ll tell you what though, there are no shoulds. Don’t let those insidious little shoulds run your life. I should this, I should that—toss that notion away, baby. There is just what is, what you want and what you don’t want. You got someone that loves you? Even one person that you’re not quite thinking of?”

“Yes…” a soft sniffle followed the confession.

“Good, all you really need is you baby but, I’m glad you have someone looking out for you. They’ll be missing you something fierce if you decide to be done. Even if they’re all you got, remember it’s about quality. Albert was my only friend for as long as I can remember. Sure, I met some ladies over the years and we gabbed and baked and knitted together but—the quality of those relationships were different. Don’t cheapen the idea of the one you have just because you think you need a lot! It’s better to have one person at your funeral to speak on what a wonderful person you were than be lying dead in a room full of people with nothing to say. What do you think about calling them right now and telling them what’s on your heart? You think that might help? If not, I’m happy to keep chatting with you, sweetheart. I ain’t got nothing to do but finish up this blanket I’m knitting. My kids already have ten of them in each of their houses so maybe I’ll just give this one to you. You like purple?”

There was a soft laugh that responded. “It’s a good color,” he said with a deep breath, one that sounded like it cleansed years of his life.

“Yeah, it is, baby. I’ll finish it for you and when you come to get it, I’ll make sure to have some cookies on for you. We’ll sit and chat and make sure you’re doing all right, hm?”

“That sounds nice,” he was chuckling again, the remnants of his tears still dripping off his face. “I think—I think I’m going to call my friend Greg.”

“All right, well tell Greg I said hello. He’s welcome to come with you now, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” Another silence followed. It was only broken by another slow breath. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Thanks for calling honey. You have my number now so don’t be leaving grandma Myrtie without saying goodbye! Promise me.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good. Go call Greg now, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I will, bye Myrtie.”

The phone clicked and Myrtie hung up her landline with a soft clack of its plastic body. Myrtie knew there would be no visitation from her new friend. It was what she offered to all of them, a place to escape their loneliness. A reminder that while life’s peaks and valleys were relentless, there was always something to look forward to. Even if it was just a warm plate of cookies and a handmade blanket. Myrtie knew her phone number was one digit away from the suicide hotline. She pieced that together after receiving a dozen calls from hurting hearts. At first, she thought to hang up but, something about the way the broken words of other human beings dipped into her soul—she knew she could not let them go. Myrtie had no idea if anything she ever said actually helped someone, if they stayed. What she did know is that it helped her. In her own loneliness, it was like a salve on her own heart to know that others shared the same feelings but soldiered on despite the pain. Myrtie had lived within the dark recesses of her own mind and found light only in those around her once she willed herself to be open to seeing the love she did have, even if it wasn’t Albert’s. Myrtie reached over and grabbed her teacup, put it to her lips, rocked in her recliner, and looked at the phone. She hoped it would always ring when it needed to.

[lilmissbeanie]

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Kotaro Bokuto x F!Reader.  Fluffy Word Count ~ 1.6k Happy birthday to @wing-dingding​ have a great day girl! The chorus of cackles and laughs echoed down Fukurodani hallways as Bokuto, and Y/n ran away from Akaashi.   

The chorus of cackles and laughs echoed down Fukurodani hallways as Bokuto, and Y/n ran away from Akaashi.

Another prank successfully completed.  

The air horn echoed through the building once again as Akaashi and Komi yelled after them. Akaashi hated the mischievous best friends together; this always happens, the other day, they came over to hang out with him at his house and set his alarm clock in his room, and it went off at four thirty-six in the morning. His toothpaste had Orajel put in making his entire mouth go numb for hours. They were all harmless pranks, week in week out continuously finding new ones, how they had not run out of ideas yet was a mystery to everyone. The pranks they pulled on each other were just as ridiculous, just last week Y/n had superglued Bokuto's locker shut, and he had switched her locker with his volleyball one.   

They had been best friends forever, their mums were best friends, and these two had been together since they were in nappies all the way to high school, they never left one another's side. "BOKUTO! L/N!" The voice rang through the building, instantly the pair tensed up, turning around to spot the coach.  

"Oh, hey, Coach!" Bokuto said, pretending that nothing was happening. The pair stood with their hands linked behind their backs rocking back and forth on the balls of their feet, making you think that these two weren't in their third year of high school or either was the respected captain or the manager of the volleyball team.   

"You need to stop with the pranks!" The pair bit back a grin crossing their fingers before nodding. Coach knew though he damn well knew that nothing was going to change, they had been like that since their first year, no matter how many times they get told off or in trouble they will never stop, and he wouldn’t be kicking either from the team seeing as Y/n helped stop the emo modes and she was very good at her job as manager.   

Y/n batted the finger poking shoulder away, as she rolled over pulling her duvet closer, "psst!" Her eyes squeezing tighter, swearing this was all in her dream, “Y/n, wake up” she felt her shoulder being shocked, groaning rubbing her eyes as they opened to be met by a pair of golden ones she knew all too well.   

"Kou?!" She groaned sitting up, she grabbed her phone, seeing it was three AM on this autumn's Saturday morning.   

"Come on! Maccies run!" He cheered quietly, his hand wrapping around her wrist tugging her gently out of the bed. This wasn't the first time he had snuck into her room at some ungodly hour. She left her window ajar for this reason. Her own eyes lit up at the word food, suddenly very awake, allowing him to tug her out of bed, her feet met her soft fluffy rug "let me put some clothes on." Tugging at her short tweedy pie baby pink cotton pyjama trousers and bralette, feeling slightly self-conscious in front of him.  

"No need, here." He said, slyly playing off how hot she looked in her pyjamas as grabbed one of his many hoodies she had stolen from him from her desk chair. "We're only getting drive-through."   

The pair snuck down the stairs as Y/n grabbed her keys and wallet from by the front door and they jumped into Bokuto's car and headed for the nearest Maccies drive thru. They pair just laughing at stupid jokes, singing along to the radio and generally just enjoying one another's company.  Finally arriving the pair order their food before driving to their favourite place on top of a hill where they sit looking over their town lit up with t. Taking a seat on the bonnet of the car, they munched down their food. Bokuto was always impressed by the way she demolished twenty chicken nuggets and a double cheeseburger with a large chocolate milkshake.    

The pair sat there watching the stars and enjoying the view, Y/n leaned against Bokuto's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, "I love when we do stuff like this Kou."  

"Me too lil bird, me too." Both praying that neither of them could feel the way goosebumps erupted over their skin as they touched or the way their heart raced.  

They sat in silence, just enjoying being in each other's presence, but Y/n knew there was something on Bokuto’s mind by the way his eyebrows and he kept fidgeting in place as they watched the sky turn from dark to light, the rosy golden colours painted the skyline.   

“You okay Kou?” She questioned gently, making the boy jump, he blinked a couple of times bringing himself out of his thoughts and turned to face her, a small smile spread over his lips. “I was just thinking.” 

“Don’t push yourself too hard, you'll hurt yourself.” The h/c girl teased him. Causing the boy to chuckle slightly, shaking his head and nudging her with his shoulder gently. “Just wondering whether I should tell the girl I like how I feel or not.”   

Y/n felt her heart tighten, he liked someone. “Of course, you should! Why wouldn't you.” She tried her best to sound enthusiastic and happy for him.   

Y/n watched as he shrugged, before replying, “Well I don’t want it to ruin our friendship if she doesn’t feel the same way, she is too much of a good friend.”  

Y/n racked her brain trying to work out who it could be, other than her, it could be the other two managers of the volleyball club. “Anyone would be lucky to be with you Kou, you should tell them.”   

“If we get to nationals then I’ll tell them.” He nodded to himself with a smile, finally deciding. “So next week.” The girl next to him smirked. His smile dropped realising it would be next week, that was barely enough time to work out what he was going to say. He was going to need Akaashi’s help.   

"Kou, whatever happens, I will always be here for you. Birds of a feather flock together as the saying goes and my oath to you is that I will always be by your side no matter what. Okay?" 

"Okay" He smiled, resting his head on hers, "Same goes to you, you will always have a home with me."  

The week flew by quickly, the inter high tournament arrived in a blur, Akaashi helped Bokuto plan out how he was going to tell and even roped the rest of the team and the other managers in. The day of the final rolled around, warmups ended, and the two girls walked away, leaving the h/c confused, “where are you going, isn't it Yuki’s day on the bench?” The two smiled and shook their heads at her.   

“Yea but you are Bokuto's best friend, he’s going to need you here and it’s the last time he is going to play in the high school inter high.” They smiled at the girl before leaving the court and heading up to the stands to watch the match from the stands.   

It was a good match, Bokuto emo mode only happened once during the second set and it didn’t take him long to snap out of it, Y/n eyes were trained on her best friend, fuck, he looked hot in his in his volleyball short and those knee pads, Y/n was having to remind herself not to drool at the sight. Of course, Fukurodani won and they would be moving on to nationals. The stands filled with the cheers from their schoolmates. Y/n jumped up from the bench running over to the team, “Kou!” She called out to him. He turns in Y/n direction, his golden orbs filled with excitement as he opens his arms in time to catch her jumping into them, Y/n wrapping around her his broad muscular shoulders, not caring that he was all sweaty from the match and her legs around his waist. Bokuto’s arms weaved around her waist as Bokuto his face buried into her neck inhaling her sweet floral scent as he spun them around, her happy infection giggles floated his ears making him grin.   

“Y/n?” He questioned, slowly coming to a stop, he kept his arms securely around her waist not allowing her to touch solid ground not until he had told her, he needed her full attention he needed her to hear this. Tilting her head to the side she watched those golden orbs flicker with hesitation and confidence in them as well. Y/n own gaze held a questioning look as she watched him fight the inner turmoil inside of him, her arms now loosely draped over his shoulders, golden orbs fluttering shut inhaling deeply through his nose. His eyes flickered open meeting hers once again, holding a serious look. “I love you, like I’m in love with you.”  

Her eyes widened, as the words filled her eyes, slowly realised what he had said, “For real?” Worry filled his face as he slowly dubiously nodded his head, yes. A shy smile spread over lips as her eyes lit up, cupping his cheeks, Y/n leaned down gently placing her lips against his, enjoying the nervous and timid yet so pure and loving first kiss they shared, before pulling away, “I’m in love with you too.” looking him dead in the eyes, love and adoration swirled in her e/c orbs.  

“Finally!” Komi cheers filled the air, shocking the pair as they turned to the sound of his voice realising everyone was watching them, forgetting they were still standing in the middle of the court. Y/n face was buried in Bokuto's neck within seconds trying to conceal the blush that erupted over her face, while Bokuto stood there proudly with his girl in his arms. Akaashi gave him a rare smile and thumbs up, he had got the girl he always wanted.

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[queenmaracasandlove]

Dancing Queen - Roger Taylor x Reader - SMUT

Word Count: +2000 Summary: Roger and Y/N are quite a powerful couple and he’s extremely proud of his girl’s moves on the dance floor.  Warnings: Smut, strong language, a bit of fluff, smoking A/N: Well... I guess the power of Roger Taylor was too strong and I had to write smut. I’m not really used to it so sorry if it’s weird or bad or whatever. This can be read with Roger x Reader or Ben!Roger x Reader. 

MASTERLIST

If Roger Taylor was a good drummer, Y/N Y/L/N was an amazing dancer. Not professionally speaking but when her body moved to the rhythm it was as if they were one. It was because of it that Roger had fell in love with her; he had spotted her from behind his drum kit as she was letting her hips and arms move to his beat. More than his skills with the drums she had loved his voice and his childish behaviour. The pair went perfectly together and even though they both could have bad temper they were always able to make it up (most of the time in the bedroom). The end of 1974 and the beginning 1975 had been quite a challenge for both of them, never had they been separated for such a long time but Queen had been on the road for months but now they were finally back although Y/N suspected that it was only for a short time. She knew from the very start that was the life she was going to get with Roger and she was fine with it because she loved nothing more in the world than him.

“Ready to go love?” Roger asked as he was waiting for Y/N on the couch “Yes. Sorry to have kept you waiting” she said joining him

Not only were they a perfect match but they were also both extremely attractive. It was not impossible to see them exchange some clothing items from time to time and they went perfectly together. The mini-skirt that Y/N was wearing surprisingly matched the ever-opened shirt Roger had put on. He could not help but stare at her bare legs but they were already late. He got up and took her hand, leading her to his car. He gently patted the bonnet as Y/N was entering it.

“Lord, Roger, sometimes I swear you love that car more than you love me” she sighed which made him laugh before he started the engine.

The group of friends had decided to meet in a little club where a band was usually playing live music, which was nice. They liked to see others perform especially in small venues; it reminded them of were they came from. Y/N was speaking to Mary when she recognized the song that was playing and immediately went to the front stage to dance. There weren’t much people and she could let herself go completely, her body freed both by the music and the alcohol running through her veins.  Roger was not really paying attention, having a conversation with John on the ideas they had for the next album. It was only once he heard someone whistling that he noticed that the excitation level in the club had risen considerably. It wasn’t long before he noticed Y/N having the time of her life on the dance floor. He loved it. The way she was abandoning herself and appreciating the music in her movements. She did not care about anything but the music and did not even notice how everybody was staring at her. She was extremely sexy and a certain excitation started to rush in Roger’s veins.

“That girl must be an epic shag” he heard someone say behind him

Less then twenty seconds later he was next to her on the dance floor, grabbing her hips and raising his eyebrows to the man who had commentated on his girlfriend’s performance.

“Now you’re dancing?” Y/N asked not stopping her little choreography “You were just so sexy I had to take a closer look.” he answered

Y/N made an elegant turn, placing her back against Roger’s stomach and her bum close to his crotch. The feeling was extremely nice and the drummer was more and more aroused by the situation. He had slept numerous times with Y/N since he came back but was never really satisfied; he had missed her so much. Y/N felt a little bulge growing and decided to break the contact with Roger, which made him more frustrated.

“I don’t want to go just yet.” she said recognizing the lust in her boyfriend’s eyes “Babe, that’s not nice what you’ve just done” he replied “It’s not my fault if I’m too hot for you to handle Roger Taylor”

Roger rolled his eyes and went back to his chair. He knew by the tone of her voice that he would not be able to get anything right now and even though he was frustrated he knew he would make her pay later on. After all they were here to have a nice time and she seemed to enjoy herself quite a bit, he did not want to interrupt her.

The man that was behind him earlier came closer with something extremely smug in his gaze.

“So Blondie, not cool enough to get the sexy girl eh?’ he said

John and Brian who were right next to him turned to see Roger’s reaction. They knew he could become angry quite easily, especially when it came to Y/N. It would not be the first time he got in a fight because of alcohol and pride.

“Excuse me?” he replied calmly “Watched her giving you a semi before leaving you on your own, what a bitch”

Roger who had remained serene until now got tensed in a second and got up his chair. Brian and John were ready to intervene before things got too far.

“Could you please not call my girlfriend a bitch?”

The man looked quite surprised by Roger’s answer and realized that he might have been missing with the wrong guy. He might have been small but he looked quite aggressive.

“Sorry dude. I did not know. If that was my girlfriend she would not be allowed to expose herself like that anyway”

Roger wanted to answer something but he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, probably trying to calm him down and so he did. He hated that kind of men, the one who carried out their girlfriends around like trophies, locking them into cages without them being able to do what they wanted. He turned and saw John’s smile, happy that things didn’t go further before focusing his attention on Y/N having the time of her life dancing with Mary and Freddie. He was so in love with her. She was incredible on her own, she was pretty of course, more than that she was beautiful but it was not all. She was so smart, she knew so many things that he didn’t, she was patient and caring and even though she had her weakness she always tried to be confident in everything she did. Most importantly perhaps she had chosen him, Roger Taylor. Some might have think that it was an easy choice, that girls would kill to be Y/N but it was not that easy. He was quite a mess when she met him, partying all the time, a history of cheating on his occasional girlfriends, very hot-tempered and never around. But she loved him anyway and they always made the best come out of each other. 

“I saw you talking with a guy in the club” Y/N said from the bathroom while she was drying herself up “Did you know him”

“The dickhead? Absolutely not” Roger answered, waiting for Y/N to join him in bed 

“So what did he want?” she asked, coming out only in a towel that was barely covering her naked body

“To tell me how you must be an epic shag and how I should not leave you dance like this in front of everyone”

“Well he’s not completely wrong” she replied 

“What do you mean?” Roger asked, frowning

“I am an epic shag” 

“You’re sure are babe” he agreed

“But are my dance moves that outrageous?” she asked

She was teasing him and he knew it. She threw the towel on the floor, ending up completely naked in front of him. Roger could feel his member getting harder in the instant. She started dancing with no music around. She was letting her hips go from one side to another, her hands brushing the air while her lovely breast was dangling in front of Roger’s eyes. She took the time to look in the closest, eventually choosing on of Roger’s old t-shirt but she did not stop moving, always in a seductive way. He did not say anything; he still wanted to make her pay for earlier even though right now she was still the one in power. His desire was building in him as came closer to him, twirling, the t-shirt not even covering her bare bottom. 

“You could drive someone insane with those hips babe” he finally said, incapable to stop starring

“Were you jealous?” she asked

Y/N found it very amusing thinking about it this way and not the other. After all, he was the rock star, the extremely hot member of Queen and she should have been the one worried about being cheated on. She did not want to though, what was the point? If they were to be in a relationship then she had to trust him and she knew he loved her. Roger had lit a cigarette and did not answer, knowing that she was playing with him. She joined him on the mattress, taking the cylinder from his lips and taking a puff for herself. She was so hot he could was going crazy in anticipation. She slowly place her legs on each side of his and looked at him seductively.

“So now you want me hey?” he asked “There’s nothing I want more than you inside me right now Mister Taylor” she whispered in his ears.

That was it, he could not wait any longer. He took the cigarette back and inhaled one last time before putting it out in the ashtray on the bedside table. There was only lust in his eyes and in seconds Y/N was under him and his hands caressing her body. The t-shirt that she had put on just a few minutes earlier was already on the floor. Tiny moans escaped from her lips as he placed kiss on her bare chest.

“Rog’” she whined

Soon she felt his digits placing themselves on her core. She was already quite wet and arched her back as Roger’s thumb started drawing circles on her clit. He was so good with this. He was always careful she would get what she needed. She gasped as he inserted two fingers in her at once. She closed her eyes to enjoy it even more, biting her lips. Roger’s cock was almost hurting as he saw her enjoying his touch so much. He started pumping in and out of her knowing she would not last long. Y/N opened her eyes and stopped Roger. She did not want to reach her high just yet. She quickly made sure he was free from any piece of clothing and went down to his cock. A groan filled the room as she started to lick it, never taking it fully in her mouth. She tasted the precum before placing a kiss on Roger’s lips. She was ready to go down once again but it was too much for him.

“Please, I want you” he begged

Her hand quickly grabbed a condom on the beside table and put it on. Roger placed himself at her entrance and asked her if she was ready with a glance. She closed her eyes and pushed him inside her.

“Roger your so fucking go” she said adjusting herself to the feeling. “I love when you say my name babe” he replied, starting little back and forth movements inside of her. He was gentle at first, trying to make it last as long as possible. “Roger please fuck me” she pleaded

She did not have to ask twice. Still inside her, he reversed the position, being on top and began thrusting harder. The sound of his hips meeting her crotch was a music to him and they were accompanied by her moaning.

“Roger you’re so good please make me cum!’ she asked

He accelerated even more, always making sure he was fully inside before going back. He felt her body starting to tense as she screamed his name. She’d better reach her high quickly otherwise he would. Y/N was completely overwhelmed by pleasure. She felt his thumb on her clit and with just a few more thrust her legs started to shake as she reached her high, her juices flushing around Roger’s cock. He helped ride her orgasm and joined her in ecstasy before falling next to her, short of breath.

Y/N grabbed a lock of his hair and started playing with it, trying to cool down. Roger turned her face towards her and started smiling.

“I love you Y/N, I love you so fucking much” he said “I love you too” she replied “

He leaned in for a kiss. But it had nothing to do with the one they had just exchanged. This one was soft and delicate; it was full of sweet love.

[minichedders]

st.valentines day massacre 0.1

mobster!bucky barnes x reader

February 14th, 1929.

Gang warfare rules the streets of Chicago, anyone who was anyone knew that if you even whispered the name Al Capone, it wouldn't be long before you were shot or deemed crazy. He was rising to the top of the mafia, he was gradually taking down his enemies, along with the probation, helping him to build his empire, he grew to be a ruthless king. The passage of the 18th Amendment in 1920 meant that all the mafia groups increased earnings through bootlegging, speakeasies, gambling and prostitution. Capone’s income raised well over $60 million a year, he was one of the richest and powerful men in America.

Since 1924, Chicago had been a lawless and violent place; it was called the ‘reign of Scarface’; he was ruthless and did anything and everything to get rid of his enemies and rivals, all except one. The Irish gangster George ‘Bugs’ Moran…

10:25 am.

Your heals clicked along the street, impractical for the cold weather you thought, though your long fur coat was keeping some warmth, under it your favourite green dress. Your dad had convinced you to go round to the Michaels for brunch, however, opposed you where, he practically shoved you out the door, Mr and Mrs Michaels where both pushovers who were pushing you and their introvert son to get married, and apparently your opinion doesn't matter.

10:30 am.

You head tilted back as you admired the white sky, hoping that small snowflakes would soon fall. You loved winter, as it gave you an excuse to stay inside by the fire, and not have to socialise with men and their mothers that boasted about them, or the snobbish wives that had foolishly agreed to marry only because of the money benefits. You believed you were the only person in the city, or world, who wanted to marry for love, not benefits. Before your thoughts could carry you away, a speeding car drove past, abruptly stopping outside an old looking warehouse; what confused you where the three men who exited in police uniforms, and another 5 that stepped out of another car in black suits. Your interest was picked and your walking slowed, you had not yet reached the warehouse, but you could already hear muffled shouts, and a few seconds later, gunshots.

You stood still, mouth agape, even though you shouldn't be so shocked, crime was basically unstoppable in this city. But never would you think that you would have to encounter something so closely. As you where regaining your breath, a man from across the road, someone you had not seen get out the vehicle, even though he was leaning against the bonnet, started walking towards you and calling for you. You froze, not knowing what to do; there was no point in running, not in these heels, plus, he has already seen your face, and knows that you had just seen their faces. Oh, you were so screwed.

“Ma'am?” He called again, his deep voice digging into your skin, making goosebumps crawl along your arms, shivering as they formed. Your head turned back towards him, seeing his face close up, almost losing your breath again; he was beautiful, dark hair, chiselled face, and a tall lean body which looked perfect in that pinstripe suit. If you were in any other situation with the man you would've jumped to joy, finding the perfect Valentines to the day.

Your ears began ringing, buzzing at the sheer closeness of the attractive man, and for a split second you felt as if the rest of the world blurred around him; that was until multiple gun firing in the etching warehouse tore your body limb from limb, panic coursing through your veins like a drug.

“Um, yes?” You said, trying to act as innocent and normal as you could muster, you couldn't die, you couldn't leave your father, not like this. You noticed his gaze drop down your figure, which was noticeably shaking, whether it was from the coldness of winter or the terror that currently ran through your body and soul you were not sure; he looked back into your eyes, the blueness of his reminding of when your father took you to the ocean when you were younger, they almost filled you with warmth, until you heard more calling and shouting.

“Buck! C’mon!” One of the men exiting from the warehouse shouted, making the man in front of you turn his head back, giving them a wave of his hand.

“I’m sorry about this miss, but you are going to have to come with me,” He said, taking a hold of your forearm, gently tugging you to the car; you were too cold and shocked to fight back, and the fear of not knowing what he might do scared you more. Stupidly, you let him push you into the passenger seat, and when he ran round to the driver seat, the three men shoved in the back began clapping, you already felt sick but their whistling and dirty comments made your stomach twist; until than man called Buck told them to shut up, which made you feel less queasy, only just.

11:22 am.

After driving in silence and tension, you arrived at a large house in the forest; the abundance of cars and bikes at the door already told you that this was obviously the mafia house, which only heightened your fear, all the worst possible scenarios where running through your head. You knew that they weren't going to kill you, not yet at least, they wouldn't have bothered to bring you to the house if they were, they were probably going to use you, which terrified you more than a bullet between your eyes.

As the men poured out of the car, you stayed still. The idea of moving seemed almost impossible as you just stared at the big blue house, envisioning all the dirty old men that lived in there, and the possibility of young girls being held unwillingly. A tear started to sting your cheeks as you let out a sob, not noticing the door beside you opening and Buck wrapping his arms around you, lifting you up and carrying you in the house, purposefully avoiding all the busy rooms and corridors. You were still in your dress and coat, which was now slightly damp from the frost and the tears that had fallen on the front, and you could feel your heels slightly slipping off the tips of your feet, although you were now too tired to adjust them. Buck turned into a room, large and messy, and placed you on the bed, slipping the shoes from your feet and neatly placing them on the floor. You both stayed in silence, apart from every so often when your sobs would unwillingly break past your dry lips.

The sight of any women crying made Bucky's heart twinge, but growing up in a ruthless world and business, he knew that if you wanted anything, you took it with no hesitation. And Bucky wanted you from the first moment he laid eyes on you.

"Why am I here, please, I won't tell anyone," You said in between broken cries, bringing your knees to your chest, curling yourself as small as possible; trying to remain an unwilling victim, too scared to look into the man's eyes in case you might slip into a lustful teenager.

"Because you are a witness, how am I supposed to trust a woman that walks the streets of Californa by herself. You are obviously reckless," Bucky replied in a rather harsh tone. He was lying. He just wanted you, to hold and protect forever; he knew he was foolish, how was she ever supposed to love her captor? Bucky sighed deeply, sitting beside her figure, watching as she winced at the gentle touch of his cold fingertips against her back, even with the layers of clothes on, you could still feel the jolt his touch sent to your body. you weren't supposed to react like this. But the longer he kept drawing small patterns on your back, the warmer you felt towards him, relaxing only slightly as the tears stopped flowing down your face. You understood why. 

"How long are you going to keep me here?" You asked, hesitantly, scared of his answer as he took minutes to reply, his fingers now still.

"Until I can trust you," He replied.

"Please, Please, I need to be with my father, he's ill, he can’t live without me," You said, lying. Your father wasn't exactly ill, he was just old, but you were true when saying he relied on you for everything.

"I'll have someone look after him don't you worry princess," Shivers. There it was. The wrong reaction to being nicknamed by a member of an infamous Mafia. You watched his dark, muscular figure rise, walking out the room, leaving with a distinct click, clearly locking the door. You ran around the room, checking the windows, all locked. No weapons, unless you smashed his head with a lamp. But anyway, you knew there was really not any kind of escape. You were in a house full of Mafia members, ruthless and dirty ones at that. You hated to admit it but this room was probably the safest place for a couple of miles. As well as that, if you did manage to escape, you know Bucky would probably go through the ends of the earth just to find you again, and possibly kill you.

Happy Valentine's day to me.

[peeterparkr]

Clear|4|t.h.

Chapter 4: Waves.

pairing: surfer!tom x reader fake dating au

word count: 5.6k 

warnings: swearing, Katy Perry

summary: Waves in all kinds of ways.  

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special thanks to @whatmakesmehappyy for editing, you rock the world seriously love you! 

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! Please tell me what you think! 

A kiss on the cheek had been their goodbye, they knew Paddy and y/n’s mother were watching. But it had been more than just a goodbye,  they had sealed the deal.

They’d be seeing each other again the very next day; y/n would pick up her car and then they’d go and discuss the rules. Their homework was to write their own rules. Complicated, absolutely, but it would help them both set some boundaries.

She had arrived earlier and avoided her mum’s questions with a ‘it was good, I’m tired.’

y/n wasn’t planning on sleeping that night, everything was so overwhelming. Let alone the fact that relationships were already hard, a fake relationship wasn’t something to be messed around with. It wasn’t going to be simple but somehow she knew it was going to work. Y/N thought about the pros and cons of the situation. The pros far outweighed the cons so far. The biggest perk: She’d be free.

She had gone straight to the basement, not forgetting to pick up the shells Tom had given her before. She ran with excitement and some of the shells fell from the bag and onto the stairs. She looked up for a notebook and a pen and then sat on the floor, waiting for some rules to come to her mind.

She scribbled down the first rule; they had already agreed on it: No kissing. She scratched it. Tom had made a point, they weren’t in high school anymore, so the kissing was important for the relationship.

“Nobody can know?” y/n asked to herself. “Restricted PDA. Yes, that’s going in.”

She couldn’t come up with anything really. She stopped writing and instead started doodling on the paper. She was meticulously drawing the outline of a figure, a face which was undeniably Tom’s. There was something about his features that were so unbelievably attractive, not that she wanted to admit it, of course, but she kept trying to figure out a way to draw him. It was so hard, she felt like something was preventing her from getting his stupid face right. Her frown was accompanied by her tongue poking out from her lips. She didn’t know why she couldn’t get him even remotely right, she kept erasing it and redrawing.

She stopped when she had a realization: she was drawing. It didn’t matter who or why, she was drawing. She quickly grabbed the paint before any inspiration could leave, she picked up the brush and submerged it into the blue paint. She had no idea what she was painting but she just let the brush go. It was once again an extension of her own hand.  She was deep in thought about the beach. She thought about the beautiful blue of the water and the shells that Tom had given her. The brush was painting her memories from the day.  

Time was consuming her.

“Y/N.”

She was drawn back into reality. Y/N dropped the brush without even realizing it as she turned around to see her sister who had a conflicted but happy gaze.

“Hi.” Y/n knew what kind of conversation was coming, and she wasn’t just ready to have it. “How did you get here? Who opened your cage?”

“You-” Joanne stopped mid-sentence as she stared at the now blue wall. “You’re painting.”

“I just made it blue,” y/n coughed as she picked up the brush and cleaned up the floor it had stained. “Like I do with everything else.”

Joanne smiled as she watched y/n walk over to the sink to wash the brush.

“How was your date?” Y/n asked Joanne trying to sound the least condescending she could.

“It was actually perfect but that was expected,” Joanne smirked as she walked over. “Now, please, care to explain yourself, Missy?”

Y/n cleared her throat before picking up her stuff. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“C’mon y/n!” Joanne chirped as both sisters were climbing up the stairs to go to their room. “We saw you! I mean he picked you up, I saw you on the Ferris Wheel and I even saw him with his arm around you. He kissed your cheek!”

Y/n laughed as they got into their room. “Wow, seems like your date was super fun, so fun that you were even spying on me,” y/n sassed.

“I’m sorry, but I thought you said you didn’t want to give him a chance,” Joanne reminded her, as they were starting to get ready for bed.

“I lied,” y/n pursed her lips as she tried to suppress a laugh. “He’s actually really nice, and fun.”

“I’m glad. You can finally get laid,” Joanne giggled. Y/n scowled and blushed as she threw a pillow at her sister.

“Shut up, it’s nothing like that!” Y/n defended herself. “I’m just giving him a chance.”

Y/n walked after Joanne to brush her teeth beside her sister and elbowed her just a little. Joanne had the biggest smirk.

“Did he kiss you?” Joanne asked.

Y/n shook her head and pushed her. “Fhirth dathe,” y/n attempted to say around the toothbrush.

“When are you seeing him again?” Joanne insisted. Y/n spat in the sink.

“Why is it important? Focus on your own dating life,” y/n snickered and started to remove her makeup. Joanne was out of y/n’s sight, so she tried to take a glance of her. She had her notebook.

“Oh what’ve got here?” Joanne gushed opening it up. “Oooh, you’ve drawn him.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she rushed over to snatch it back. “This is none of your business.”

“What does the restricted PDA mean?” Joanne frowned. “You’re already setting rules for your relationship?”

“Ah, please, Jo don’t let your mind wander,” y/n rolled her eyes. “It’s far too small to be out by itself.”

Joanne didn’t answer and rather laughed it off while flicking her pinky at her. “Whatever you say, y/n.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to sleep,” y/n gently hit her sister with her notebook, making her laugh.

“Dream of Tommy boy.”

-

Tom hadn’t slept that night. His mind was going too quickly, he was scared. He was having second thoughts about this. He didn’t know how it could turn out. He feared himself. He liked y/n, that was the statement. His official statement.

He didn’t know if it was another way to con himself into thinking he could get any girl he pleased, so he continued with the path he had been so sure of building around him, always with the reputation of a player. It had bothered him just slightly, but at the same time he liked the challenge. Not now, of course, he wasn’t looking out for any type of summer fling, so this would work out.

He just needed the summer for himself, he needed time to think about the future. The future was scary, at least Tom’s was. He needed a little time to escape as well, y/n and him weren’t that different.

His head was everywhere but where it needed to be. He was thinking about the rules, but if it were for him, they didn’t need rules.  

He knew it could be a recipe for disaster, though. Y/n seemed to be the perfect ingredient for things to go wrong, because he hadn’t quite cracked her shell, yet.  

At the moment, he was just trying to fix her damn car, and it wasn’t working out for him. He’d been at work since early that day, and he needed to be up early the next day, too. He needed to sleep.  He could only focus on the rules. Why did they have to make things so difficult?

Tom had a secret.  A big secret, at that. He realized it didn’t really matter, he had already lied to her. He had actually fallen in love, once. He was someone who cared too deep, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

How the hell was he supposed to pretend to be dating y/n when he clearly felt something for Lex?

Lex was an addiction. It hurt but she still had him wrapped around her finger. She was, in all matters, his weakness. He didn’t want that anymore.

Tom didn’t want to disappoint y/n. He didn’t want things to go wrong, he wanted to be there a 100% for her, not because of her, but for him. He had to get away from Lex, he had to stop himself from getting tangled into her web.

Y/n would help with that. If anything he had kept himself from sleeping because he was fantasizing about a good relationship. This was his chance to have a taste of a good relationship, even if it was a hoax, he could make it as perfect as possible. It was like a free trial.

But he couldn’t think of anything that would be a good rule. So he set some rules for himself;  he was blocking Lex out of his life. He didn’t need her.

He leaned against the car as the sweat was covering his forehead, his hair curling up. He had just under an hour until he saw her again.

Harrison walked over to him, towel on his back. He worked at the workshop too, but he didn’t take as many shifts as Tom did. He didn’t exactly need them.

“How did you tame the beast?” Asked Harrison as he approached Tom who just gave him a side smirk. He examined the car. “Ah, goold ol’ James’ car?”

“Yeah.” Tom said as he pulled a cart over to go back under the car.

“You’re just going to ignore my first question?” Haz laughed.

“Pass me the pliers, please,” Tom said, sliding back.

Harrison grasped onto the pliers and shook them in the air. “Answer.”

“It was just a date,” Tom shrugged. “May I have the pliers now, please?”

“Jo told me she’s a hard nut to crack,” Harrison shrugged.

“Well,” Tom sighed as he rubbed his face. He was covered in oil. “She is, it’s just… “ Tom bit his lip, they really had to set a story.  “We had kind of a moment when I went to pick the car up, she’s James’ granddaughter, you already knew that. We started talking and then we went out for lunch. But then we saw Lex, it kind of ruined the moment. I came back to apologise with some seashells and she agreed to go on a date with me and I think we’re going somewhere with this.”

Harrison hesitantly handed over the pliers, not pleased with the answer. “Joanne told me she didn’t like you.”

“She doesn’t.” Tom winked at Harrison sliding back. “It’s...complicated.”

“Huh, what about Lex?” Haz asked.

“I think this is good,” Tom said getting out from under the car and patting the bonnet.  He stood and walked over to the front of the car. Swiping the towel from around Haz’s neck he began to clean himself. “I just need to check down the carburettor and we’re all set.”

“Thomas.”

Tom didn’t answer, he was just adjusting the air mix, ignoring any possible further conversation. “Where’s the….screwdriver!” Tom was mostly answering to himself as he picked it up.

“Tom.”

“Look, I just… I just need to get away from Lex,” Tom admitted, looking up at his friend. “I need to move on, I just can’t believe I’m still stuck in all of her bullshit.”

“And you think a rebound is going to help you?” Harrison questioned him. “You’re playing with something dangerous here, Tom, you’ll end up hurting her, or you.”

“Well, that’s all my business, innit?” Tom frowned as he continued to screw down some nuts and bolts.

“Don’t trick yourself, Tom,” Haz warned him.

“It’s not a secret I’m terrible with relationships,” Tom defended himself. “Maybe I just want to work it out this time.”

Harrison didn’t push it. They stayed quiet, for a while as they both continued working. Or as quiet as they could be, asking each other for tools or help.

Haz went completely quiet as their friend, or as they were supposed to call him right now, boss walked in. They refused to call Jared a friend, however.  He supported them both economically, if they ever needed it or simply by the fact he had given them both a job, after all, even if that supporting came with the price of sleeping with their girlfriends.

“Hey,” Jared greeted them, he had a coffee in his hand. “Man, I just woke up.”

“It’s noon,” Harrison pointed out.

“It was a busy night,” Jared shrugged with a smirk. “Important things getting done.”

Tom flinched but kept focused on the car. “Ah, who was it?”

“I’m afraid that’s information you don’t wanna know, Tommy,” Jared laughed.

“So, Lex,” Tom acknowledged looking over. “It’s okay, we broke up a while ago, you’re free to shag her whenever you want.”

Jared smirked. “That’s the plan.”

Harrison stared between them both. Tom coughed as he closed the bonnet. “Haz had a date,” Tom said trying to talk out the tension.

“Ah, yeah, with that girl, Jannet?” Jared grinned and nudged Haz. “How was she?”

“Joanne,” Harrison corrected. “The date was fine, only a date, mate.”

Neither Tom nor Harrison knew why they kept hanging out with Jared. Except of course, he took care of a lot of their stuff. Jared’s parents basically owned the whole town so it was good not to mess up with him. They had their good moments, Jared could support them whenever they needed help, but of course, he could come out sometimes as a bit of an asshole.

Tom wasn’t paying attention to the conversation Harrison and Jared were having, he was focused on the time, ticking until he was going to see her. In any moment she’d be walking down an aisle expectant of the Jeep. Tom realized what he was the most scared of, it probably wasn’t even Alexa.J ared was the problem. If he managed to even charm her, Tom knew he was doomed. Jared knew his way around women, they flocked to him without him even trying. Tom realized that y/n was a way of telling Jared he got her first, that was a way of saying it. Tom was always the backup plan for every girl that Jared couldn’t get. It always came to ‘Jared didn’t like me so I’m taking you instead’. For the first time, he wasn’t the backup plan. Not that he was even a plan to start with.

Tom ignored the conversation before getting into the car to test out if it was going to start up, it was no surprise it did. “Fantastic,” he said to himself.

“So get back to work you guys, or is it your lunch yet? I don’t know…” Jared yawned as he turned around to see y/n walking into the place. “Oooh, interesting, I’m leaving you, gentlemen.” Before anyone could stop him, Jared had already made his way towards y/n.

Tom could read Harrison’s fear as his best friend turned to him. Tom was equally as scared, or not scared, but disillusioned. He knew this could blow up so easily.

To both of their surprise, y/n hadn’t even flinched when Jared had come over and her expression had remained cold. She offered him a polite smile before making her way to Tom. Her pace was decided and powerful.

Haz watched her as she walked over to her car. She looked at Tom hesitantly but kissed his cheek and then rested her arm against his shoulder; an embarrassed Harrison blushed and tried to focus on everything else but y/n and Tom.

“So, how’s this baby going?” Asked y/n.

Tom blinked, but quickly snapped back into reality. “You mean the car or me?” He smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Whatever you wish to answer,” She sentenced as she turned to Haz. “Hello… Harrison, right? Might as well learn your name if you’re gonna date my sister.”

“Yes, Harrison,” He smiled. “You’re y/n.”

“Yep, but probs my sister referred to me as Imbecile, but I don’t answer to that name, so don’t call me that,” y/n joked. “So, is this ready?”

Tom was biting his lip as he saw Jared watching him, Jared gave him a thumbs and a smirk, accompanied by an obscene gesture. Tom rolled his eyes and faked a laugh, but then turned back to y/n. “Hm?” He glanced at her, while she just clenched her jaw. “Ah, yes, yes, ready.”

“Alright then,” she let him go. “Well, I’ll just go pay for this and then I guess I’ll see you later, right?”

Tom nodded. “Right.” She had already turned around but Tom had grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him, knowing that both Jared and Harrison were watching. His arms found his way around her waist, she was blushing as she cleared her throat. Tom just stared down at her lips. “You could stay for lunch.”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow as she chuckled. “One step at a time, wonder boy.”

Tom smiled but kissed her cheek anyway, her blushing didn’t cease but she just cleared her throat and then she was off to pay and Tom drove her car to the delivery section. She just returned to pick up her keys, and to ruffle Tom’s hair.

“You’re all covered in dirt,” she told him. He winked at her.

“Bye.”

“See you, wonder boy.” Those had been her last words before she had driven off. Wonder boy, that was quite a nickname.

Harrison didn’t ask and neither did Jared, so Tom took his break.

“Did they buy it?” That’s how her text read.

“Totally.” Tom texted.

The hours were the longest. Tom was sure this day’s shift couldn’t have been any longer, and he was also sure that it had probably been about 13 months until his shift finished. That wasn’t an exaggeration.

He went straight to his home, took a shower, and then got his surfboard on the back of the truck. He hesitated but then went to his room and picked up his guitar. It could come in handy.

He was going to see her at the blue valley and he didn’t know why he was so nervous about this. He was sweating like a sinner in church.

He arrived an hour earlier than stipulated, and just stared at the wheel. He took a deep breath before getting all his stuff out. He left the guitar on the sand and then rushed to the blue waves that were expecting him.

For a second he hesitated but it wasn’t long until he was paddling out. He sat a few meters away from the beach to absorb the sun’s warmth. He smiled before plunging into the water, surfboard and everything.

He then found himself surfing through the waves as they circled around him, covering him in the magnificent blue. The wind was helping him skim through them as the wind hit his face.  He felt free, in those moments he felt free. He was zigzagging to outrun the breaker that would in any moment swell and eat him up.

He hadn’t realized that he wasn’t alone, the blue ocean had overwhelmed his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the figure on the beach.

Y/n had arrived early, just a few minutes after Tom. She had giggled at the thought that both of them had thought about having a time of their own before their talk. Besides, to her mum and sister, she was out on a date. He was there and so technically she hadn’t lied.

She was sitting by a shadow, with a sketchbook on her lap as she was delicately sketching some faces and some waves. She stared at the guitar on the sand and frowned, but then she watched Tom. He looked as inspired as she had once been, the way he was surfing showed how much he cared for it. She could see his passion and the love he had for surfing.

Y/n wished she could have such a passion for something again. She once did, and it was coming back, but she was sure it was never going to be the same.

She watched him for a while, it was hypnotizing to see him. There was a way in which he was circling around the water. His hair was flying, and he looked inviting, he was chasing the trill.

Y/n stood up and snapped out of her trance, she walked over to the shore so he could get a glimpse of her. Finally, he caught her eye as she stood on the shore.  

“I’m sorry,” he said as he got out, surfboard beneath his arms. “Got kinda lost,” he apologized. “How long have you been here?”

“Actually, like an hour. It was nice to have the time to myself, guess you had the same idea,” y/n said. “So, no worries, but we better start with this.”

Tom nodded as he stood his surfboard and ran for his guitar.

“You’re gonna serenade me?” Y/n asked, amused, as they both sat on the sand.

Tom laughed as he tickled some notes. “Huh, no, just needed to make this less awkward, thought some background music would help.”

“It’s a shame,” she laughed. “Now, uh-” She didn’t continue as he was starting to play it. “Is there anything you can’t do, wonder boy?”

Tom snickered as he turned to her, just fidgeting with the strings.  “Now, what are the rules?”

“I well, I scratched the no kissing rule,” Y/n started.

“So you do wanna get a taste?” Tom wiggled his brows, earning a glare from her.

“Give it time,” Y/n warned him. “Look, it’s a different fake relationship, you see? Because we’re just starting to date, so there’s no need to get all touchy yet.”

“Okay, so let’s make that rule number one, baby steps,” Tom agreed.

“Besides, I think the pre-kiss is even more romantic,” Y/n said.

“The pre-kiss?” Tom frowned.

“Everything that leads to the kiss,” y/n said. “Ah, you wouldn’t know, bet you just kiss them.”

“Ah, I don’t, you’re wrong, but we’ll see,” Tom snickered. “I’ll end up doing that pre-kiss, it’ll be so damn good..”

“Of course you will,” Y/n rolled her eyes laughing.

“But then I won’t kiss you and I’ll leave you there begging for a kiss,” Tom warned her, poking her shoulder.

“Doubt it,” Y/n wrinkled her nose.

“I’m a bigger fan of the aftertaste,” Tom winked at her, she ignored him.  “Alright, what else?”

“Well, my sister asked how I magically liked you and I couldn’t give her an answer.”

“So, let’s make up a story, but truly, darling I’m irresistible,” Tom joked, y/n gently punched him. “Alright, alright, well I told Haz we had a moment.”

“A moment?” Y/N laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, we can borrow one from a movie, or a book,” Tom suggested. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I just want people to think this is perfect.”

“Perfect,” y/n repeated before letting out a cackle. “Why?”

“Just imagine the possibilities, we can fool the world into thinking we are the perfect couple, be the envy of them all,” Tom continued. “It’s easier, just an act.”

“Fine then,” y/n agreed. “But how in this world are we going to make them believe that?”

“First, let’s be seen together, there’s a party this Friday, Jared’s house, you’re coming with me, then you have to be at the surfing competition cheering for me, clearly, uh, at least one public date a week, all the cheesy stuff.”

“Alright, sounds good, but let’s keep the PDA to the minimum,” Y/n added. “And you know we might as well know when the other’s gonna escape so we can-”

“Right, right,” Tom chuckled. “We don’t want to supposedly be with each other while we’re definitely on other places.”

“I think the most important thing is just… Let it flow, you know? We did an okay job today, despite your little act,” y/n side eyed him.

“Sorry, felt intimidated, and I’m just that way, I’m full of surprises, darling,” Tom clicked his tongue. Y/n rolled her eyes.

“So, what was our moment?” Y/n asked.

“We stared deeply into each other’s eyes and realized our profound love for each other,” Tom yelled as he played the guitar louder. Y/n glared at him. “Or not, we can say we just talked on our way back to the shop.”

“Better.”

“Then we will have to have a story as to how you fell in love with me, y’know? The exact moment you realized it,” Tom sassed.

“I’m gonna fall in love?” Y/n snickered, opening up her notebook. “We’ll see where this goes, wonder boy.”

“Ah, there it is, is that gonna be my pet name?” Tom grinned.

“Catchy, isn’t it?” Y/n smiled, looking down at her notebook.

“I’ll stick with a classic, love sounds convenient,” Tom mumbled and then tried to look over. “You’re good.”

Y/n cleared her throat. “So any other rule?”

“I’ll woo you.”

“Who even uses that word anymore?” Y/n laughed.

“I do,” Tom chuckled. “I’ll serenade you and everything.”

“So what we want to portray is basically a rom-com summer love classic?” Y/n giggled. “Oh, god.”

“Yes, a summer love,” Tom agreed. “Well, then we can make it even more romantic, too bad we don’t know anything about romance.”

Y/n blew her cheeks and ran a hand through her hair. He was right, she definitely wasn’t the kind to be all touchy or cheesy, she hated that. But it was good, somehow.

Tom started to play some notes.

“I think we will make it work,” y/n declared watching him as a familiar song was being played by Tom.

“‘Course, we just have to pretend to like each other, sure you can do that?” Tom teased, y/n rolled her eyes. “It’s the simple things, you know?”

“Right, right, but the problem here, let’s just not forget it’s not real,” Y/n conceited.

“Your own reminder, I won’t forget it, darling.” He continued to play the song, now louder. Y/n realized he was playing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”.

“I love that song,” y/n commented.

“Oh, so I’ll add that to my notes,” Tom grinned as he started to sing. His voice was melodic. She sang too, quietly harmonizing..

He continued with another song, one which y/n didn’t recognize, so she just watched him with a smile, carefully admiring him. “You truly are a work of art, aren’t you?”

Tom chuckled turning over. “Stunning?”

“Misunderstood.”

Tom scoffed and shrugged. “I guess.”

He kept singing, they were watching the ocean as y/n hugged her knees.

It was so, so peaceful and almost magical to be able to be together, yet alone, without being bothered.

Tom stopped singing and stood up. “So, that’s it for today?”

“Hm?” Y/n shook her head, missing his voice. “Oh, yeah.”

Tom shrugged and then stretched. He helped her stand up. ”Or.”

“Or?” Y/n frowned.

“We could have a romantic walk by the beach,” Tom offered with a smirk as they were walking to the parked cars.

“Don’t even think about it,” y/n rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t mean here,” Tom cleared up, chuckling. “But now I see where we stand.”

Y/n chuckled and turned around. “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll see you there.” Tom winked as he got his stuff into the trunk.

“Care to give me a ride?” Y/n followed after, Tom frowned realizing there was no Jeep in sight. “Yes, I walked.”

“Huh, should I?” Tom leaned against the car, caressing his chin.

She chuckled, and nudged him gently. “Please?”

“Mmh, what would I be getting from that?” Tom chuckled.

“We’re supposedly dating, dumbass,” Y/n laughed. “It’d make sense if we arrived together.”

“Dumbass sounds like a more suitable pet name than wonder boy, and I’ll be calling you imbecile, sounds pretty.” Tom chuckled, opening the door for her. “After you, miss.”

Y/n stuck her tongue out. “Thanks, dumbass.”

“Welcome, imbecile.”

They both hopped into the car, and she kept staring at him, he was singing along to the songs on the radio. “What?” He asked.

“Nothing, your singing voice is pretty,” Y/n shrugged looking back to the road.

“Was that a compliment?” Tom asked, surprised.

“Yeah, there’s not many of those coming,” y/n warned him. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Tom chuckled and he glanced over. “I heard you sing too,” Tom mentioned. “Really pretty voice.”

Y/n shook her head, blushing. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, I would. Do you play any instruments?” Tom glanced over. “Besides your voice.”

“No, but I’ve always wanted to play the guitar,” she confessed watching him. He was such a dumb distraction, but somehow one that she wouldn’t mind thinking about.

“I could show you,” Tom offered. “It’s not that hard.”

“Tell that to my clumsy fingers,” y/n laughed.

“C’mon, you can’t be that clumsy, you draw,” Tom pointed out.

“So? There’s no correlation with that,” y/n defended herself. She looked at him. “But Maybe you’re right, how difficult can it be if you play it?”

“And we are back to the no compliments,” Tom chuckled. “I’ll take it as one, though,” Tom grinned as a Katy Perry song started to play.

“The one that got away,” y/n mumbled.

Tom looked over and turned the volume up. “Classic.”

She started to sing along to the song that meant a lot to her, but of course, Tom didn’t have to know that.

“In another life, I would make you stay,” Her singing was getting louder and Tom beamed.

Tom sang louder with her, purposely missing the key, yelling off- pitch, and forgetting some of the lyrics, causing y/n to laugh.

Eventually, they were both messing around with the song, getting out of pitch and making the most inhumane noises.

“Okay, besides that, you really do have a pretty voice,” He admitted.

“What do you mean? I really nailed that last note,” she giggled.

“I meant it, y/n,” Tom grinned.

“And that’ll be a secret you’re going to keep,” y/n warned him. “But thanks.”

“Any more secrets I should keep?” Tom glanced over, licking his lips.

She grinned and shrugged. Tom continued singing and she was just listening to him.

They arrived at the beach and hesitated on what to do because there were some people who could spread the rumour. That would help them. Tom was sure they would see some of Lex’ friends. They were always hanging out at the beach, according to Tom.

“Ah, there they are, her evil followers,” Tom said pointing at two girls that were speaking to some boys. “Ready to act?”

“Bring it on.”

They weren’t talking, really, just walking beside the shore, just as the sun was setting. Y/n grinned as they walked over to the water, letting the foam cover their feet. Y/n grinned as she looked down at the sand, she wanted to capture that moment to paint it later.

But the magic was ruined.

Tom had splashed some water at her. She looked up indignantly and he was laughing. “What the hell?”

He shrugged as he was walking deeper into the water. “Whoops.”

She followed after him, trying to splash him a bit more. But he managed to pick her up and spin her into the water, laughing and playing and splashing her more. They were having fun.

They continued to splash and play around, Tom was unbelievably touchy, they were both soaking wet, but it didn’t matter, it was fun. Tom turned to see the two girls, and he realized it was working. Their flirting with other guys had ceased and their eyes were glued on them. Tom smirked as he spun y/n around one last time.

He let her go, laughing, and sunk to the sand. Y/n stood back and tried to find him in the water, eventually, Tom jumped out and wrapped his arms around from behind.

She nudged him, and she discreetly looked over. “Too much don’t you think?”

“No, they know me,” Tom assured her.

“So, I’m not the first one?” Y/n laughed. “Of course not,” y/n turned around to see the girls, “Think they’re buying it?”

“Absolutely,” Tom grinned.

“I’m freezing,” She mumbled.

“Want me closer?”

“No,” y/n chuckled. “But we’re putting up a show, so it won’t matter.”

“Shh.” Tom kissed her cheek. It seemed like it was so easy to pretend, it didn’t even cost them. They were natural.

They stayed quiet watching the sunset, as the water was hugging them, as if it was made just for the two of them, because they didn’t realize when the other two girls had left because the two souls were too in love with the sunset and the waves, that their surrounding suddenly went quiet. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter if it was just pretending, because at that moment, for the two of them, it was real.

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[dudleyguildford]

Angst 17 robron please 😇

damn it malorie you had to pick this one…….

“stop making empty promises!”

Robert’s never seen someone fill up a tank of petrol so angrily before. It would almost be impressive if his chest didn’t feel like a boulder had landed on it. He rubs his palm across the jagged rhythm of his heart, trying in vain to soothe some of his panic, but it only takes another glance in the rear-view mirror and suddenly he feels like he can’t breathe again.

There’s the option to pay at the pump but Aaron deliberately ignores that and marches over to the petrol station instead. Robert watches his head appear in the window as he moves towards the cashier, his face like thunder. The woman says something and Aaron turns, pointing at their car, before handing over his card. It takes all of a few seconds but by the time Aaron re-emerges, Robert feels like he might be sick at any moment.

He’s convinced that Aaron is going to ask him to get out. That he’ll drive off on his own and leave Robert at the side of the road, miles from home. He’s got his fingers clamped around his mobile, ready to call Vic and explain everything that’s happened, when Aaron yanks open the driver’s door and climbs in.

Robert opens his mouth to speak, to force his tongue round an apology he’s not sure he’s brave enough to say, but the engine roaring to life beneath his feet stops him. Aaron floors the accelerator, propelling them forwards at such a speed Robert’s neck snaps back. If this was a normal day, he’d make a joke of it. Easy, boy racer. Aaron would roll his eyes or, if he was in a good mood, possibly chance a grin, but today isn’t that day. Aaron’s more likely to thump his jaw than smile right now.

Even with the heavy thrum of the engine and the sound of wet tires on tarmac, the cabin is painfully quiet. Aaron’s breaths are loud and harsh in the confined space, his nostrils flared in silent rage, knuckles ivory as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Robert’s hands are clasped together in his lap, a kind of pseudo-prayer to whoever might be listening that he hasn’t just destroyed their marriage… for a second time. 

They manage to get to the last roundabout on the outskirts of Hotten before everything implodes. A BMW cuts Aaron off and he blares his horn, leaning out of the open window to scream a series of swears at the bloke who’s already sped off into the distance. His cheeks are red with anger but it’s the dampness at the corners of his eyes which leaves Robert stricken.

“I’m sorry,” he finally feels able to say, and Aaron’s answering scoff is salt to an open wound.

“You’re sorry,” Aaron mutters, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip as if trying to stop himself from shouting. Robert can’t blame him.

“I didn’t mean–”

“Bollocks!” Aaron interrupts sharply. “Course you meant it. You were itching to find a way out of this, you have been from the beginning, I was just too stupid to see it.”

It stings. Mainly because it’s utterly untrue, though he understands Aaron’s lack of trust all things considered. 

“Why did you even go along with it if you were just gonna fuck it all up now?” Aaron continues, the car now reaching 80mph and climbing. Robert wants to point it out, remind them that they can’t carry on an argument if they’ve both gone head-first through the windscreen. He’s not quite sure if that will go down too well, though, so he stays quiet.

“I mean, I asked you. Over and over again, I asked you if you were sure! And you said you were! You said you couldn’t wait for us to have a kid!”

“That’s true!” Robert jumps in, because he can’t hold his tongue any longer. 

Aaron shakes his head, eyes burning holes in the road ahead. “So what, then? You thought she’d like us better if she knew we broke up just months after we got married?!”

Robert doesn’t know how to answer that, or not in a way that Aaron will readily believe. He’s still not fully sure why he said it himself in all honesty. The whole meeting is a blur now. He remembers him and Aaron entering the cafe, seeing Natalie across a crowd of pensioners and young mums with pushchairs. He remembers them sitting awkwardly around a too-narrow table painted mint green. He remembers Aaron going up to order them tea, and Robert being struck by a sudden and inexplicable urge to run, and compensating for that by just starting to talk. He doesn’t properly remember what he said, only that Natalie’s face had gone from a polite smile to one of concern far too quickly. By the time Aaron had come back with a pot of tea and three cups, Robert was too far in, dredging up their entire history while his husband and their potential surrogate looked on, horrified.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly, but even to his own ears it sounds pathetic. He’s not surprised when Aaron shoots him an accusatory glare.

“Well, I’m glad, Robert. Glad you’ve just fucked up our one chance at this surrogacy thing and all because… you don’t know?!”

His words ricochet in the small cabin and Robert bows his head, guilt claiming him. He can feel his whole body shaking with it and has to look out of the passenger window just to try and focus on something that isn’t their broken future. He’s staring so hard at the endless sweep of greenery that he doesn’t realise Aaron’s pulled them into a layby until the car comes to an abrupt halt.

Robert turns, not sure what to expect, but Aaron’s out of the car before he can ask anything. He sits for a moment, just watching his husband attempting to calm himself, and then slowly steps outside as well.

Aaron’s breathing deeply, eyes closed, and Robert waits. It’s an exercise his counsellor taught him, a way to re-focus his energy back on himself rather than on whatever chaos is surrounding him, and Robert knows not to interrupt. He rubs his thumb against a stain on his jacket sleeve instead. It might be paint – Liv’s got an art exam coming up and she’s been creating masterpieces for weeks now – or it might be any number of fluids from Seb. The perils of being a father… Robert’s chest tightens again at the thought.

When he finally looks up again, Aaron’s staring hard at the bonnet of the car, and Robert braces himself to say: “I swear to you, Aaron. I swear–”

“Stop!” Aaron’s voice is raw, the word fracturing before it’s left his mouth. “Stop making empty promises! You’ll only break them, Robert.” 

It feels like a lifetime since they had a row like this, and the weight of it knocks him back a step. He’s choking on a denial, but instead what comes out is: “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” Aaron asks, but he sounds hurt now rather than angry. It’s worse, Robert thinks. Much worse. “She might’ve liked us. I had it planned out… I had a whole speech in my head, how I was gonna tell her about us, our family, the house. She’d see we were good people, that we wanted a kid because we love each other–” 

“Aaron…”

“Just tell me why?” he demands, a solitary tear escaping to roll down his cheek. Robert aches to wipe it away, to erase it completely, but he’s rooted to the spot. Couldn’t move even if he tried.

“I don’t know,” he repeats, shoulders at his ears, before turning his face to the sky. “I was just… I was scared, Aaron.”

He’s certain he’ll be met with more anger, but instead his husband looks at him with recognition, understanding almost. It encourages him enough to continue: “It feels like we’ve had every obstacle thrown at us with this surrogacy. All the money problems and then Faith and fucking Bear Grylls or whatever his name is trying to sabotage the whole thing. We’d only just got Natalie to agree to meet us properly and… it just felt like everything had to be perfect. One wrong move and it would all come crashing down again.”

Aaron’s eyes are wide, lips parted, and it takes a few seconds of silent processing before he finally says: “I didn’t know you were so worried about it. You seemed… I mean you were just so… confident.”

Robert sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, we can’t both freak out, can we? And I wanted to support you, to be the strong one for a change. You were there for me with Seb, and I wanted to be the one helping you this time.”

Aaron closes the distance between them, enough that he can reach out and gently take Robert’s hand tentatively in his own. “You should’ve told me.”

“I thought I had it under control,” he confesses. “And it’s not like I wasn’t excited as well. The thought of us getting to have this… getting to grow our family… I want that, Aaron. You’ve got no idea how much. But when I saw her today, I remembered all over again what we had riding on a… a stranger liking us.”

Liking me, he amends internally, because secretly he knows that only one of them was going to be a problem and it definitely wasn’t kind, gentle, blue-eyed Aaron. Natalie was always going to take one look at Robert and run for the hills. That’s why he said what he did – rip the plaster off in one quick move rather than a more agonising, drawn out process.

“Hey.” Aaron’s voice is a murmur, soft and encouraging as he raises his chin just enough to meet Robert’s lips. The kiss is a whisper and no more, the tenderest of brushes, but it’s enough to undo him completely.

“I’ve ruined everything,” he says, barely keeping himself whole. Turns out he doesn’t have to, because Aaron’s got one hand on his shoulder, the other curved around his ribs, keeping him steady.

“You were honest. More honest than I was gonna be with her. And you know what? If she was dead set against us after ten minutes than she wasn’t the right one, was she? We’ll find someone else, someone–”

Aaron pauses, pulling out his mobile which is vibrating in his hand. Natalie’s name flashes up on the screen.

“Oh God,” Robert hears himself say, and Aaron immediately pushes the phone towards him.

“You answer it.”

“What? No!” Robert exclaims, already backing away.

“It should be you, Rob. Explain what happened,” Aaron encourages, already pressing the answer button before gesturing for Robert to speak. His mind stutters, panic overriding every sense, but eventually he finds his voice enough to say: “Natalie? It’s… It’s Robert, Aaron’s husband.”

“Oh,” she says, shocked. “Um… hi.”

“Hi.” His feet are itching to run again, to bolt like a spooked horse from the gate, but this is too important. He’ll fight this time, for him and Aaron… and their child. “Look, I’m sorry about before. I was… I was nervous. Me and Aaron have wanted this for a long time, we’ve had to go through a lot to get here and I just… well, I panicked. I’m sorry, I know I must have sounded crazy–”

“Robert, it’s okay,” she cuts him off before he spirals. “I mean, I didn’t really expect to get your whole life history straight away but part of me is… relieved? You’re not the first couple I’ve met and… the ones I’ve spoken to all put on an act, pretended to be something they weren’t. You’re the first ones who didn’t.”

He’s not sure if he wants to cry or pass out. Possibly both. He thought he’d snuffed out any chance of hope they had, but now…

“Do you think we could meet again?” he chances, holding his breath. “I promise we’re not as terrible as I made us sound before. This is all we want – to be dads, to be a family. And we know we can, I promise we can. Just… give us a chance to prove it to you.”

He can feel his heart beating at the back of his teeth as he waits. She’s going to say no, he thinks, but refuses to let that sink in. It can’t happen. It can’t.

“I’m working the rest of this week, but I could do Saturday? At the same cafe?”

“Yes,” he says immediately, legs almost giving out. “Yes, that’s fine. Absolutely. Yes.” He’s just saying words again, relief overwhelming him. They say their goodbyes, Robert now holding onto the car’s wing-mirror just so he doesn’t collapse on the road. Aaron watches him, eyes wide, and eventually asks: “So? What did she say? Is… is it good news?”

“Well, that depends,” he answers after a pause, keeping his face neutral.

“On?” Aaron’s cheeks have gone red again, this time with a mixture of hope and panic, and Robert can’t contain his smile any longer.

“On whether you still want to have a baby with me?”

It’s a moment Robert knows he’ll remember for years. The look on Aaron’s face, the weak sunlight catching in his eyes, his breathless laugh as he rushes at Robert to pull him into a hug. He’ll remember all of it, but especially the feeling which had wanted to take flight before, but has now settled, warm and heavy, in his chest.

“That a yes?” he jokes, nose buried in Aaron’s neck, arms tight around his waist. 

“Almost,” is Aaron’s answer, pulling back just enough to flash Robert a grin. “Luckily though, we’ve got an empty layby and nowhere to be for half an hour, so you’ve got time to win me round.”

“I like those odds,” Robert murmurs, tugging him back in by his belt so he can finally get his mouth on Aaron’s. 

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 2530 Chapter: 6/7 Summary:  An accident at work leaves Tobirama blinded while his eyes are bandaged to heal from some rather nasty burns. Too busy with his own job to play the role of caretaker, wife too pregnant to place the burden on her, Hashirama calls upon his best friend Madara to stay with them and help Tobirama out in anyway he can. Madara isn’t exactly thrilled to play babysitter but he can see an opportunity when one comes along; this may be the chance he’s always waited for.

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Chapter 6

Having fingers prod at his face had never been Tobirama’s favorite thing. Not being able to see those fingers coming made it several times worse and the only reason he hadn’t swung his fist out to throw a punch on reflex was the sound of his brother’s voice in the background keeping him calm. There were still a few close calls but at least one of them had to stay calm and he had long since resigned himself to the knowledge that it would always be him.

“Everything seems to be healing very well,” a feminine voice spoke from much too close for comfort. “There’s no scarring on your face that you haven’t put there already–”

“They’re tattoos, Dr. Haruno.”

“No, they’re colorful scars. And they’re on your face. But I digress; the burns here all look like they’re healing very nicely and if you haven’t experienced any undue pain or discomfort then I have every reason to believe that your vision will come back just fine when we remove the pads.” Finally the fingers let go of him only for Tobirama to flinch violently at the sudden sound of clapping.

From the corner he heard a quiet, “Oops. Sorry Tobi.” It took effort to resist the urge to roll his still delicate eyes.

“Thank you, Dr. Haruno, you have been most kind.”

“My pleasure,” she told him. “You’re a much calmer patient than I usually have to deal with. A lot of people get rather squirmy about having their sight taken away.”

“I can’t imagine why,” he drawled. She chuckled and he used the sound to track her across the room.

The rest of his appointment was fairly short, just a few reminders to be careful about his face until they could finally remove the bandages and a couple more questions to make sure he understood what to do in the slim chance that his vision did not return as expected. When he left Dr. Haruno dryly informed him that she was waving and it lightened his mood enough to keep him from dwelling on the uncomfortable possibilities of never-ending darkness.

Clinging to Hashirama’s arm as they moved through the hospital and across the parking lot was embarrassing and awkward but it was much faster than trying to feel his own way around. The battle between his pride and his practicality had been an ongoing one for the entirety of this tiring process but it seemed in public his practicality won. Getting away from other people faster was better when he knew they were going to be staring at him no matter what he did. Not that he could blame them for staring. Who wouldn’t double-take at the sight of a man waltzing around with half his head bandaged like a Hollywood mummy?

He had feared that without being able to stare at the world going by outside the only thing to occupy him during the drive would be Hashirama’s annoying radio stations but, to his delight, he realized that it was actually that much easier to simply disappear in to his thoughts while his brother’s voice washed over him, nattering on about one of the patients he had dealt with a few days before. It wasn’t that Tobirama disliked listening to his brother or didn’t care. Rather it was that he knew patient confidentiality was very important and he knew Hashirama was expecting him not to listen and so used times like this to vent about feelings or release any pent up tension that he had been carrying around. It was therapeutic for them both, actually, since it allowed Tobirama a break from social requirements.

Madara was just serving lunch when they pulled in to the driveway. Hashirama made sure to see his brother safely in to the kitchen before scurrying up the stairs saying he wanted to fetch Mito so they could all sit together with their meals.

“Homemade pizza,” Tobirama heard their chef’s voice murmur after shuffling footsteps stopped just beside his right shoulder. Ceramic thumped gently against wood when Madara set the plate down and admitted, “I kind of flubbed the crust so use both hands or else you’ll end up wearing it, it’s not as firm as I meant it to be. I was going to make soup but I didn’t want you to knock the bowl or something.”

“We won’t have to worry about that for much longer.” After a long car ride back from the hospital Tobirama finally allowed the excitement to sink in, feeling his way along the edges of his plate until he found the crust edge of his lunch. “Doctor says everything seems to be healing just fine.”

“Is that so?” Madara hummed and the distant note in his voice had Tobirama pausing just before he took a bite.

“What, you were hoping I’d stay blind forever?” he demanded.

He sort of expected some kind of snarky response but all he heard was a low sigh just barely audible under the sound of another chair scraping away from the table. “I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

It took a lot of effort to clamp down on the instinctual snap back about putting other things in his mouth. Maybe he should stop talking to Izuna so much if the idiot was rubbing off on him enough to have him spewing unintentional innuendos. Tobirama shook the thought away with purpose and tried not to pay too much attention to the images rising up in the back of his mind. Definitely not something he should be thinking about with Madara – or anyone, really – right there in the room with him. Also not something he would have even considered thinking about before losing his sight and being forced to learn a bit more about the man. Truly a worrisome development.

They ate in silence instead of the easy conversation they had been slowly falling in to over the past couple of weeks, Tobirama using the silence to puzzle over what could have Madara's knickers in a twist this time. After what felt like much too long Hashirama finally returned with Mito, who was humming under her breath of all things, and the two of them easily picked up the conversation that had lacked in their absence. For the most part Tobirama listened with one ear, still more interested in figuring out what Madara's problem was. He did pay a little more attention when Hashirama clapped him on the back without warning and he nearly face planted in to his second slice of pizza.

“Anija!” he snarled. “I can’t fucking see yet you imbecile!”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry Tobi! I’m so sorry! I don’t- I forgot!”

“Forgot my ass! Mito, get him for me!”

“With pleasure, my dear.” Mito’s dreamy voice was followed quickly with a yelp, though he hadn’t heard any sort of impact. It didn’t actually register as all that strange until he heard Madara's reaction.

Shoving his chair back with a noise of disgust, the man declared loudly, “If you’re going to be doing that sort of thing at the kitchen table I think I’ll just eat later. I seem to have lost my appetite.”

Whatever he had seen, Tobirama felt it was safer not to ask.

He also felt it was probably in his best interests to leave the table as well. Part of what had driven him to move out of such a lush home in the first place had been the sickening levels of cutesy canoodling those two got up to even when there were other people in the room. Just because he couldn’t see it didn’t mean he was comfortable sitting around and letting it happen right next to him. Following after his current conundrum seemed like a much safer option.

Madara's footsteps faltered halfway to the living room, presumably when the man noticed he was being followed, and it was the way he waited to make sure Tobirama got where he was going alright without offering unnecessary help that finally clicked all the pieces in to place. He sank in to the chair he had found all on his own mostly because gravity pulled his stunned body down on to the cushions with a little too much force. It might not be the same bee that Madara had up in his bonnet but Tobirama found himself floundering a little in the face of what he’d just realized.

Getting his sight back was all well and good but healing a little faster than everyone thought also meant that Madara would be leaving a little earlier than everyone thought �� and Tobirama wasn’t ready for that.

Of course, it wasn’t like they would never see each other again. Madara would always be his brother’s best friend and despite neither of them officially living in this home they did manage to cross paths here with startling frequency. He still didn’t like it. For reasons he was not yet prepared to admit he wasn’t quite ready for Madara to leave because Madara leaving meant that everything would quickly fade back in to how they had always been. The two of them would rarely talk even on the occasions they did run in to each other and Madara would spend his energy focusing on Hashirama rather than the unwanted little brother tucked in to the background of whatever shenanigans they got up to.

It felt like a loss even though he knew he had no right to feel that way. Madara had always been and always would be Hashirama’s. Had probably been born with a photograph of Hashirama stapled to his forehead, already screaming the idiot’s name. If Mito hadn’t come along Tobirama would honestly not have been surprised to see the two of them get married someday despite their continued insistence that they only saw each other as friends.

Now here he was sticking his heart in the middle as though he hoped to belong.

“What are you doing?” he asked, frantically searching for anything to distract him from looking too closely at the places in his heart that were never meant to open up.

“I just have a few touch ups left to do on this project before I send it off to the client. There’s not much to fix and I do have until the end of next week but it never hurts to get an early start in case any new bugs crop up. They have a tendency of doing that.” Something in Madara's voice suggested his words were followed by a shrug and Tobirama wasn’t sure how he felt about knowing that without seeing it.

“Read to me,” he blurted. “I’ve got nothing else to do and I don’t want to spend my afternoon all bored. Will you…read me a book or something?”

Startled silence hung between them for a few seconds until finally Madara said, “Sure? I guess. As long as you understand that I’m going to find the most terrible, awful, crappy novel this house has to offer and probably make you sit through one of Hashirama’s romance mysteries.”

“That’s fine,” Tobirama muttered. Anything to keep the attention with him but not on him.

True to his word, Madara did actually rummage through five different bookshelves in four different rooms, all while Tobirama trailed along behind him just to listen to him crow over the hilariously bad literature and boring science or medical texts, until at last he began to laugh so hard he sounded in danger of giving himself a hernia. It took several minutes for him to calm down enough to say what he found so funny. Every time it seemed like he was about to calm down he would start reading the book summary and fly off the handle yet again.

For the first time Tobirama regretted letting his eyes pass over all the terrible books sitting around, never sure if they belonged to Mito’s secret shameful hoard or Hashirama’s utterly shameless collection. He was all but bouncing on the balls of his feet when finally Madara calmed down enough to speak properly.

“It’s – oh my god – this is the stupidest sounding shit. It’s called ‘Seduction in the Suna Desert’ and th-the little blurb on the back says ‘When a tall drink of water steps out of the desert heat like a tasty mirage, it looks like all of her problems will be solved. Until Harue realizes that she’s accidentally discovered a werewolf’s den in the least likely of places. Will she stay and be mated against her will? Or will she escape and leave behind that tall drink of water that just won’t get out of her head?’ Oh sweet lord this is such utter crap!”

“They actually read that shit?” Tobirama shook his head and despaired that he could be related in any way to two people with such awful taste. “I’m disowning them both.”

“We have to read this,” Madara declared.

“No! Find something else, I beg you, before you melt out my brain with that drivel.”

A firm hand took hold of his own and before Tobirama could properly register how warm Madara's fingers were they were pulling him around and back towards the living room. “Yes, this is happening. You were the one who wanted entertainment! Well I find the idea of making you listen to this very entertaining. Hashirama always says you should take breaks from all the science!”

He wanted to protest that taking a break was not synonymous with halving his own brain cells with dime store romances but the grip on his hand and the laughter in Madara's voice was just distracting enough that he found himself seating on what was probably the living room couch with Madara pressed up against his side a few minutes later. Luckily the opening chapter of ‘Seduction in the Suna Desert’ passed in one ear and right out through the other without a single word sticking in his mind but that was mostly because he couldn’t focus past the sounds of Madara's voice. When he wasn’t screaming the man did have an absolutely incredible voice to listen to.

Two chapters later Tobirama still wasn’t listening to the actual story, more focused on the way his narrator kept cracking up and injecting his opinions on the source material, and the longer he sat there the more he realized that he was much more screwed than he thought. Madara didn’t seem to notice that they were slowly inching closer and closer as Tobirama slid farther down in to the cushions. Or if he did notice he didn’t say anything. Whatever the case was it was better for him to stay silent on the matter so that the panic attack beside him could go on in silence as Tobirama wrestled with an unwanted truth.

It appeared that he had developed feelings for Madara, someone he had hated for many years until his sight was taken away and he was forced to look at the man in other ways. This was more than just unexpected. This was an unprecedented disaster just waiting to happen.

And only he stood to lose anything when Madara left.

[diego-hargreeve2]

light in the dark

Part Thirteen

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy (Netflix)

Ship: Diego Hargreeves x Original Character

Warnings: Language, abuse (emotional and physical), mental illness, violence and, in later chapters, smut.

Detective Patch was not happy - and she knew exactly who was to blame. Which was why she found herself sat in her car, in the early hours of the morning, outside Al’s Gym, staring at the road instead of at her house, eating chips and reading trash novels to unwind. It almost reminded her of the old days in a way, waiting for Diego to be done with dispensing his specific brand of justice - not a past she wanted to return to. However much affection she held for her friend, their relationship had never worked outside the bedroom. Patch wanted more stability then he could offer. 

As his car pulled up she sat up straighter, throwing open the door and stepping out. Folding her arms she stared down his rust bucket as the headlights cut out and Diego emerged, the same cocky smile he always wore when interacting with her. 

“That file contained private information Hargreeves” she told him, getting straight down to business. 

“Nice to see you too Eudora” he drawled, using the car door as a shield between them as he leaned one arm on the roof.

“Don’t play cute with me - that man was a witness, and you’ve just ruined my investigation. I’ve told you to stay out my cases!” Diego glanced into the car, as though not even listening to her, and Patch followed his gaze to the young woman sat in the passenger seat, her eyes huge and round, the look of anxiety and fear so obvious it would have set off alarm bells in a person with far less experience than her in spotting vulnerable people.

“What the hell - are you adding kidnapping to your list of crimes now Diego?” Patch demanded, walking around the car. Diego’s history of going after snitches and informants as well as the outright criminals had her jumping to conclusions.

“The hell? I’ve not kidnapped her - that’s your first thought?!” Diego was genuinely offended at the suggestion.

He moved fast, slamming his door, and trying to get around the bonnet, but she had a head start and was the one to yank open passenger door and look down at the blonde, who visibly flinched away from her - and who was, incongruously, hugging a bag of Chinese takeout against her chest.

Before Patch had managed to process this, Diego was at her side, one hand gentle on her shoulder as he pulled Eudora back from the car slightly, but his touch was far less aggressive than the response he’d given to her question .

“Are you okay, miss?” Patch said, her attention on the girl as one hand swivelled her badge, still hanging round her neck, to show her. She wasn’t thinking Diego would have kidnapped anyone for nefarious reasons - but she wouldn’t put it past him to have a witness or a somebody involved to get more information. However good his overall intent, she was drawing the line at this, but Diego just scoffed, rolling his eyes. He dropped down into a crouch, looking up at the blonde from that angle - and Patch didn’t miss the way his gaze softened as he looked at the stranger. She had seen that look many times. Back when they were a couple Diego would look at her the same way sometimes, but it had been a vulnerability he rarely revealed, reserved for when the two were in private. The expression was enough to have her look at the blonde with more curiosity - and a touch more understanding as well. Not here against her will - just startled at her boyfriend being accosted by a cop when they were heading back to his place to eat takeout food. 

Evie met Diego’s gaze, waiting for some explanation of this odd situation. She had been startled by the raised voice, the sudden accusations, more worried at the trouble Diego might be in than he was - and learning that the woman was a police officer did not help settle her nerves. To her, cops weren’t people to be relied upon and sought out when you needed safety. She had been moved along by cops many times in her life, trying to just find somewhere to sleep for a couple of hours and being directed to get out of there by police. They’d never been a protective factor in her life. 

“You’re alright kid. This is Eudora. She’s an old friend”. Old flame might have been more accurate, but Diego wasn’t sure how Eve would react to learning this was his ex-girlfriend and figured that gave her enough information to be working on as he straightened back up. He adopted his former pose again, one elbow on the car roof, half shielding Evie with his body as he turned back to Patch.

“You know I hate being called Eudora” she grumbled, reigning in her annoyance at his actions. “I’m Patch” she said, offering the girl a reassuring smile. Evie eyed her a moment before getting out the car, her nerves still apparent in the way she crushed the bag, hugging it against her chest. She offered a tremulous smile and a hand, half covered by the sleeve, to make proper introductions.

“Eve” she offered, leaning against Diego for reassurance and he dropped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in and pressing a kiss against the crown of her head. Patch filed all this away, taking the girl’s hand in a grip gentler than she usually used as she shook hands. 

“Nice to meet you Eve”. 

Diego could see the calculation in Patch’s gaze. Part of why she was a good detective was that she could be gentle and friendly, so people warmed up to her, and underestimated her - those dark eyes saw plenty, and figured out more. It wasn’t with the gaze of an ex-girlfriend that she eyed Evie, it was as a detective, figuring out as much as possible and he straightened his back, squaring his shoulders without realising as though to make himself larger and more intimidating - a tactic that would never work on Patch, who knew him far too well. She had seen him with knives, knew how deadly he could be, and yet she had never hesitated to go toe to toe with him. 

“Go inside angel” he murmured, yanking a key out his pocket and handing it over to Evie. She looked up at him as she took it from his hand, worried, but he flashed her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be in in a minute” he assured her, hand dropping to her lower back and guiding her forward slightly. Evie took the hint, moving past Patch and offering an apologetic smile before heading for the gym. Neither Diego or Patch spoke as she walked away, and when she glanced over her shoulder at the door she saw both watching her.

When Eve was inside and the door was closed Patch turned back to Diego, her arms folded again in the pose she always adopted when lecturing him.

“Who is she?”

“Not like you to be jealous-“

“I’m not jealous” she pointed out, rolling her eyes - and it was true. There was none of the envy and old possessiveness of an ex-girlfriend, her tone was far closer to the questioning she adopted during investigations. It wasn’t Diego that Eve feared, but there were enough signs there to provoke her concern - the same body language she saw in domestic violence victims, the same nerves and stance, the look in the eyes. It wouldn’t be Diego who had beaten her, and in truth, Patch wasn’t concerned he’d be taking advantage either. Whatever Diego’s faults that ruined their relationship, he was a good man, and a mamma’s boy which left him with respect for women - but she was concerned still. 

“You heard her. She’s Evie” he said, leaning against the car and folding his arms as well.

“She looked terrified”.

“Of you, not me. You startled her” Diego pointed out. Not that he could be too harsh on Patch for doing so, Evie frightened easily, and Eudora hadn’t done it on purpose. 

Patch sighed, dropping her combative stance and confrontational tone. 

“Just - be careful, yeah”.

“Careful of what?”

“You lead a dangerous life. She doesn’t look like she could handle the consequences of that” Patch told him, her tone softer and kinder now. He frowned, bristling still at the suggestion, but Patch was too tired to argue with Diego.

“Stay out my car, out my files and out my cases. Your visit earlier has probably just lost any chance of getting a conviction - and that’s how we actually help people. Putting dangerous people behind bars-”

“By working with prison snitches?” He interrupted with a snort.

“Informants trying – hoping - to get out the cycle” she stressed gently. “I’m going home Diego. Enjoy your dinner - and take care of Eve” she said, turning to walk away.

In the old days he’d have checked out her ass. It had taken Diego a very long time to get past his old feelings - truthfully, it had taken the arrival of Evie. It was a first for him that, instead of watching Eudora as she walked away, remembering how that sway looked without clothes, that he frowned, focused on her words instead.

He watched her get in her car and drive away before he moved, slamming the door and headed inside the gym - where Eve had hovered on the other side of the door, waiting for him, still hugging the bag to her stomach.

“Are you okay?” She asked and he smiled, the expression hidden by the half-darkness she was waiting in, as he shut the door and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Of course”. He hit the light switch and took the key from her, turning to lock the door. She was still stood there, concern etched all over her face, when he turned back around and he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “It’s nothing - long story, but no big deal” he insisted, sliding an arm around her waist and Eve finally moved, looking at him sideways as they began to trace the now familiar path through the gym and down to the basement boiler room.

“You ruined her case?”

“Ah, she’s just saying that. Don’t worry Evie” he assured her, dropping the hand from her waist as he beginning to peel off his gloves. Her questions weren’t going to get anywhere with him, she knew he could be stubborn, and she fell silent as she headed down the stairs, waiting till they were in his room before she tried again.

“How do you know her?” She asked, not looking to him as she began pulling cartons out the bag.

“We were at police academy together” he told her, unbuckling his harness and hanging it up. “Then...” he considered his response and chose to omit the truth.

He had loved Eudora. He still cared, that was true. Their relationship had always been based on flirtation, both when they first met, through their relationship and since she had ended things - although lately, only on his side. Getting over her had been hard. She was a good person, she’d always been patient with him and his ways, but they were different with different ways of looking at the world - and that had led to arguments. For a long time, Diego had hoped she might change her mind. He didn’t hope that anymore. Rather than worry Evie - because he strongly suspected the truth would receive a bad response - he left it out.

“We stayed friends. We work in the same business after all” he said, walking over to where Evie stood. He pressed himself against her back, hands resting on her hips as he leaned down to kiss her neck. The affection was, in his mind, a form of reassurance - but of course, she didn’t know that given that she didn’t know his history with Patch. Diego was always tactile. Their relationship had been ongoing for a few weeks, but it wasn’t that he was this way because of their relationship was still in its honeymoon period. He was a physical person, and more than that, he was fiercely protective over Evie in a way he never had been with a girl before.

He hadn’t had many girlfriends. Beyond Eudora his history was focused on brief hook ups that never lasted or involved enough emotion to count as a relationship. Patch had been able to take care of herself; he’d rarely felt this emotion with her that he felt so often with Evie. An urge to shelter her, to hold her close and mark her as his to keep anyone else away, to ensure she never had to face danger again - he preferred to be in contact with her whenever he could. And she had no issue with this, happy to be within the reach of his arm at all time, comforted by his presence which helped soothe the nervous fretting in her chest. His touch, the kiss on her neck, didn’t raise any warning bells and it didn’t occur to her to see an ulterior motive. Instead Eve leaned back against him, the worry she had felt during Patch’s confrontation fading as she felt the solidness of his chest. His arms snaked around her, his teeth grazing her skin and she giggled slightly even as she felt her body reacting, something she had become far more familiar with. Evie was no longer confused by the twist of heat flooding through her stomach when she saw him shirtless. 

Turning in the circle of his arms she pressed herself against him, confidence in his attraction to her making her more daring - in this area of her life at least, it had yet to transfer anywhere else. 

“I would hardly think you could describe what you do as being in any business” she told him, ignoring the way his hands slid down to her ass now she faced him.

“Call it what you like”. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss the matter, his mouth back on her neck, Eve tipping her head back to offer him access. His teeth grazed her skin, eliciting a gasp from her, as he gripped her tighter and pulled her body flush against his – in truth, to reassure himself, not her, that the girl he wanted was in his arms, and he no longer longed for Eudora. 

“Dinner will get cold” she pointed out, even as her eyes closed with pleasure. He chuckled, but didn’t stop, nipping at her neck before opening his mouth to suck on the skin he’d just bitten, determined to leave a mark. She slid her hands up to his hair, griping the short strands with her fingers till he lifted his head.

“You could fix that” he pointed out after a moment; the words murmured against her skin so she could feel the air from his speech against the wet mark he had left. 

“Or we could eat first”.

“This first. Then eat. Then maybe a second time” Diego said, lifting his head and she laughed softly but she didn’t say no, and when his hands slid down to grab the back of her thighs she grabbed his neck and let him pick her up and carry her across to the bed.

Patch was the past. He was letting that go. Evie was the present…and the future.

on this blog we love eudora...even if i dont ship her with diego as an endgame

@lovinglydiego @klausbutgayer @reblogserpent @me125 @fatbottomedcurls @mrsdiegohargreeves @carryon-doctor-lock @rhymesmenagerie

[mercurygray]

I am sure you are SHOCKED but I would love a Henry/Emma story, or really anything Mercy Street. And hmm, perhaps with a holiday tradition like Christmas caroling or baking desserts.

@montanabohemian said:you should write some emmry! because i’m so predictable.

Anonymous said: A prompt for you if interested: Mary and Jed and a snowstorm

This was something I started before Christmas and never finished. And today’s as good as any to write about snow!

Stille Nacht - a Mercy Street Fanfic

It was unusual for a train to be this late.

But then, it was highly unusual for such a snowfall so early in the season, and when there is a foot of snow on every mile of track from the Berkshires to Boston, certain allowances have to be made, including four hour train delays. It could have been far worse; Henry Hopkins sat in his drafty train car and thanked heaven that it was only four hours and not four days, else he should have missed Christmas entirely. As it was, he would be only late to Christmas Eve, which was permissible, he thought.

It would be a welcome change, to be in Boston for the holidays. He had made the mistake of writing to Jed about his plans for the winter break between classes - a fireside and a good book and not much else - and the reply that had come back had almost been a marching order: Come to Boston or else. “Mary will not hear of your spending Christmas like a monk in a cloister, and begs me to remind you that you have not yet met Elias, who desires a new shoulder to spit up on, being exhausted of mine and his mother’s. We will not be a large party, so you may be called upon to perform grace, but apart from that,” Jed had written, in his blithe, unconcerned manner, “your primary duties will be the occupation of a hearthside chair, the consumption of Christmas pudding and port, one or two games of chess, and perhaps the entertainment of a very small child, if it can be fit in amidst your other onerous tasks.”

It was a cozy picture - and far preferable to two weeks spent alone in his drafty teacher’s lodgings with only the cat for company. Henry knew he would not be the only ‘stray’ at the Foster family Christmas table - Jed had already written of a visiting professor from Germany, and there were sure to be more.

He collected his case from the rack above as the train slowly screeched into the station, pistons and brakes hissing in the fog-filled twilight of the shed. The platform was a dizzying spectacle of humanity, porters and teamsters bustling to and fro around families trying to collect cases, wives waving their hellos and goodbyes, and a few black-coated businessman, trying to make a dash for the door. Henry made a beeline for the waiting room, the final figure of Dr. Jed Foster finally appearing near the doors, a jewel-blue scarf peeking out from his overcoat.

“Were you going to keep me waiting all night?” Jed asked, smiling irrepressibly.

“I thought about it,” Henry replied, his own smile just as free and easy. The two men shook hands and then embraced, laughing.

“Well, shall we go? I’m sure dinner’s a lost cause, but we may yet make it home for the midnight service at church, if you’re up for it.” Henry nodded, picking up his case again and following Jed towards the station’s exit and a nearby line of waiting black cabs, horses pawing at the pavement while their drivers sniffled in the cold.

Installing themselves in the nearest vehicle and letting the driver tap his horses away to Beacon Hill, Henry settled himself into what he hoped would be the last leg of his journey and took a good look at Jed. Married life and peacetime, it seemed, had changed him - there was a touch more gray around his hair, and in his beard, which was shorter than Henry remembered it at Mansion House. Was the war really two years ago now? It seemed so much less remote than that. The scarf was obviously new, and not in a color he thought Jed himself would have picked. And there was a certain…easiness in him now, a lightening of the shoulders and the spine that spoke of a willing partner to the day’s cares. “Fatherhood suits you,” he ventured.

His friend looked surprised to be found so. “Does it? I’ve been reliably informed it won’t last - in a few months the boy will forget how to sleep ten hours at a stretch and then, my friend, I think I shall be very sorry I ever clapped eyes on his mother.”

“But you like it, so far?”

Jed considered a minute, his thoughtful gaze turning, once more, to a grin. “He is…the tiniest thing, Henry. I know exactly what went into him, how he works and moves, and yet - every time I look at him I marvel.”

And Henry only smiled.

It was not a long way to Jed and Mary’s house - a flourishing practice and plenty of teaching work had left the Fosters amply supplied where their choice of lodging was concerned, and Beacon Hill was handy for the Common and the General Hospital, as well as the houses of the Boston Brahmins who formed the bulk of Jed’s private practice. There was a wreath upon the door of the Foster demesne, and in the window, one of the newfangled Christmas trees pressed its arms into the glass, the mirrored glass of its ornaments glimmering faintly in the light from the streetlamp.

“They may have already gone,” Jed offered, turning his key in the lock and letting the two of them inside. “What ho, the house!”

“We’re in the parlor, dear.” Henry smiled at the familiar voice, hanging up his hat, at least, and trying his best to leave most of the snow on his shoes at the door as Jed slid the pocket doors back and let Henry into the parlor.

It might have been a scene from a Christmas card - Jed in the role of Joseph, admitting one tired and slightly amazed shepherd into the stable to marvel at the newborn King, cooing in his mother’s arms as a visiting shepherdess looked on - another stray caught in for Christmas, no doubt. The room was dim, the only light a few oil tablelamps, at Mary’s elbow and on the desk, catching the spangled garland on the tree and sending flashes of light around the room. Mary looked up, smiling at Jed’s entrance, and the attendant friend did, too, and Henry’s heart skipped a beat, recognizing the face as someone who has seen a long-loved ghost.

“Miss Green!”

For so it was - the same bright eyes and slim smile, the same dark hair and trim waist that had invaded upon his thoughts so at Mansion House, all those years ago. And yet she seemed unchanged in loveliness.  

“Chaplain,” she offered, just as forthright as ever, holding out one white hand. “Or should I say Professor now?”

“Either will do,” Henry managed, taking her hand and shaking it, weaker than he wished to. It still beggared belief - her, here?

“I think my presence is a shock,” she said, smiling politely. “Perhaps Doctor Foster neglected to mention?” She looked at Jed, who looked suspiciously pleased with himself and gave a kind of apologetic shrug.

“Miss Green is studying at the Hospital,” Mary said, rising from her chair with the infant in her arms. “A somewhat unofficial course in nursing, but I expect they’ll standardize it soon, when they see the benefit that can be had from such a study. They’ve kindly agreed to let her off the ward today so she can spend the time with us. And this,” she said, turning so his head might face towards Henry, “Is Elias, who has been waiting so patiently to see you.”

“Hello there,” Henry said, glad of the distraction. “My apologies for keeping you up so late.” He offered a finger, gently stroking the infant’s cheek, and Elias stared at him in goggle-eyed wonderment, too tired or amazed to do anything else but blink and then, eyes fluttering closed, give one titanic yawn and turn his face away back to his mother’s breast.

“I think we may put him to bed before we go for the service,” Mary said judiciously, more to Jed than anyone else. “Sarah’s about, if he should wake up. But he’ll sleep, I think; he’s had a long afternoon flirting with Emma.”

The use of the word ‘flirting’ sent a frisson through the room, though whether or not it was intentional none could tell. Mary ascended the stairs to put the child to bed while the other three waited below in the hall, putting on hats and gloves to venture out into the night to church.

“Was it a long trip? From Williamstown?” Emma asked, the soul of politeness.

“Longer than it should have been,” he admitted, shrugging back into his winter clothes suddenly very self-conscious about the developing rip in one of his gloves. “May I?” He’d been  watching, transfixed, as she wrapped a muffler around her neck, at the same time reaching for her coat. She looked a little startled by the offer, but acquiesced, letting him hold the garment as she slipped her arms inside and tied her bonnet on.

Mary came back downstairs with quiet feet, letting her husband help her into her coat and shawl while Emma held her prayerbook. “He’s sleeping,” she said, to no one in particular. “He’ll be good for Sarah.”

The snow muffled the sounds of the city as they walked to church, streetlamps throwing a golden haze into the softness of the night. It was the kind of evening Henry had always pictured when the time for singing hymns like ‘Silent Night’ approached, though every good theologian could tell you Christ hadn’t been born in wintertime, nor was it likely there was a halo of snow around the manger where he’d lain. A patch of ice surprised Emma, and she gave a yelp, catching at his arm to keep from falling. “I think you’d better keep that,” he said, and her hands stayed where they were, wrapped around his coatsleeve, drawing the two of them closer together than he had  been to a woman for quite some time. Did he presume too much? Two years was long enough.

But she did not move her hands, nor was her closeness a burden to him, and in the evening chill, he felt himself grow warm again.

Ten steps behind and taking the road carefully, Mary watched the pair with bird-bright eyes and glanced pointedly at her husband. “You look like a cat who’s just gotten into the cream, dear,” she observed with a smile. “I suppose you think yourself quite clever, surprising Henry like that.”

“What, me?” Jed Foster put a face of pure innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His wife rolled her eyes. “Inviting Henry for Christmas and conveniently forgetting to tell him that Emma would be here.”

“I am entirely innocent of whatever you’re suggesting,” Doctor Foster repeated with a lofty air, though no amount of artifice could hide the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Mary nodded sagely, knowing full well what her husband was up to.

“Be gentle, Jed. That’s all I ask. They’re grown people who ought to know their own minds before someone else makes them up for them.”

They said nothing more on the subject for the rest of their walk, filing quietly into church and carefully taking their candles, four more lonely shepherds come to sing, and watch, and wait for news of the Christ-child. But Mary couldn’t deny that it made her own heart a little warmer to watch her two houseguests bend their heads over the hymnal, and smile in surprise at their shared harmony,  basking in the glow of the candles, the whole world around them warm with promise.

[kpopboysreact]

BTS Reaction - Bringing Their Newborn Home With Their Wife

Thank you @jiminie-jams-bts for requesting! Bias: Jimin P.S, all the babies in this reaction will be girls because I’m an absolute sucker for fathers with their baby girls. Also, I didn’t post any gifs with the reactions because I want it to be completely up to your imagination. This is a really sweet scenario, and I want you to get a full experience from it! If you want me to add gifs though, just let me know :) Enjoy!!!!

Jimin

You were asleep, exhausted from what seemed like an eternity of labour. Jimin held your baby girl as you slept and rocked her slowly in his arms, staring at her chubby face. He wanted to sing, but whenever he made a sound, he started crying. So he settled for mouthing the words to the lullaby he sang to you when you were having nightmares. You awakened some time later to see the beautiful sight of Jimin rocking your child, hunched over her small frame. “Jimin?” You called gently. He looked up to you, a lone tear streaming down his cheek. “She’s so perfect, y/n. Everything about her is...perfect.” He stood up and placed your baby in your arms for the first time. You couldn't help but tear up. “I think she knows she’s in her mother’s arms.” He laughed as her tiny lips curled into an “o” shape. Your sniffed in your tears. “C-can I kiss her?” You asked him, as if he would know if it was safe. “I think so...” You lowered your lips to the top of her head and pressed them against her. “Can I?” You nodded and smiled as he ever so gently pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I can’t wait to take her home.” “Neither can I. I fixed up her room a couple of days ago, it’s all ready.” “You’re the best.” Jimin just smiled as his gaze drifted back down to your newborn. “She’s...” “Perfect.” He stated.

He waited and waited and waited until the doctors cleared you two to take your baby home. When they did, Jimin was all smiles. “Yeobo! Let’s go!” He’d been reading books and online articles about taking your newborn home and was proud to show you what he learned. He dressed her in light clothes with a cute baby bonnet, and fastened her into her carseat safe and sound. The sighs and coos your baby made caused him to squeal. “Jagi! Listen to her!” He smiled a smile so large and so bright, his eyes closed and he couldn’t see. “Maybe we should call one of the other guys to drive us home...” “No! The only person I trust with the lives of the two most precious people in my life is me.” He took his time driving home, like Yoongi, always under the speed limit. It felt like an eternity before you arrived. But when you did, Jimin was overwhelmed with joy. “Yeobo! Don’t move!” He opened his door and ran around to your side of the car, opening your door and helping you out. Then he made his way over to your baby’s side and carefully unbuckled her, taking her into his arms in the most delicate way, as if she were made of glass. She’d fallen asleep on the ride home, the delicate motions of the car imitating the rocking he had done for her earlier. “Do you want to put her in her crib for the first time, or should I?” “Could she...could she sleep with us?” “Sleep with us?” “I-I don’t mean in our bed! That could be dangerous for her. But...could we move her cradle into our room?” “Are you sure? You spent so long setting up her room.” “I’m sure!” He quickly moved the cradle from your baby’s bedroom into your bedroom, then called you in. “But...let’s not put her in her cradle yet. Lay her on the bed! I want to watch her.” He sat on your bed with his legs open, patting the spot in the middle. “Come, sit. Bring her.” You sat between Jimin’s legs and rocked your child in your arms. He held you tightly around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder, staring down at your baby. “Yeobo?” “Mhmm?” “You and our baby are my world. I promise you I will always take care of you two...forever.”

RM

Namjoon was so conflicted...over who had to drive home. Of course, he wouldn’t let you drive and there was no way in hell he would trust some grimy cab with someone he didn’t know in the driver’s seat with his beloved family, but he was obsessing over your baby and couldn't take his eyes off her. “Y/N!!! Oh my god, look at her little feet. Look!!!!” He couldn't stop smiling and eventually you called one of the other BTS members to drive you home. When Yoongi showed up, Namjoon barely even knew he was there! His world changed when he held your child for the first time. It now revolved around you and her, and that wouldn’t change unless you welcomed another little bundle into your family.

Jin

Jin was at a complete loss for words. He’d been preparing for this day since you found out about your pregnancy seven months ago. He hired painters to renovate the guest room of your shared home, painting the walls different shades of pink. He hung mobiles and practically overflowed the room with toys and stuffed animals. Yet now that the day he would meet his precious daughter was upon him, he had no idea what to do next. He spent an hour just stroking her chubby cheek with his thumb, and time froze when she wrapped her little hand around it. He was silent during the drive home, but once out of the car, he was completely ready to embrace this new life with your child. “My two princesses...how on earth did I get this lucky?”

Suga

Like Jin, Yoongi had no words, but for a different reason. Though in awe, his silence was mainly of disbelief. He couldn't believe that there was now a living symbol of your love with him in this world, in the form of a chubby little baby he would be given the privilege to love for his whole life. He spent about an hour just fastening your baby girl in her carseat. Then it took another hour to drive home. Though the hospital was at most twenty minutes away from your house, he took all the safest routes stayed a good deal below the speed limit. Once home, you lowered her sleeping form into her crib, and Yoongi stared at her in pure amazement and joy. “Y/N...thank you. Thank you so much for this...this blessing.”

J-Hope

He had to be told by several nurses to stop screaming or he would wake your baby. She somehow remained sleeping as your husband talked his head off. “She’s so small! So cute! So adorable! And she’s ours! Our little baby!” “Hobi, pay attention to the road!” “I am, I am!” The second you two got home, he dashed out of the car to open your baby’s door and quickly get her out of her carseat, he wanted to hold her. “You don’t mind, right?” “Of course I don’t mind.” You laughed, watching your husband lovingly hold your baby tightly. He brought her over to her crib with you following right behind. “Ah...do we have to put her in here right away? Can’t we keep her in the living room with us for a little while? I...I don't want to let her go yet.”

Taehyung

“Tae, stop poking her nose.” He didn’t listen, and proceeded to poke said nose. “Tae? Baby? Hello?” He kept poking. *poke* *poke* *poke* “Oh my gosh, what are you?!” He smiled. “I’m a father, yeobo! And you’re a mother! Ah I would kiss you right now but that would mean taking my eyes off our precious baby girl...” He kissed his fingers, then touched them to your cheek, all while continuing to watch your baby. The only time he took his eyes off her was when he drove home; when his full concentration was on the road. He tripped several times walking up to your front door, not taking his eyes off the bouncing baby in your embrace. When you lied her down in her cradle, he took your face in his hands and kissed you with so much love you could cry. “This...this is our new beginning. Thank you, y/n.”

Jungkook

This would change Jungkook completely. Once a shy kid, he was now a mature adult ready to support you and your child through everything. He would step up and leave his childish immaturity behind. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He knew that he needed to mature and he told himself he would, but he was still a little scared about the day you would welcome your child into the world. That is, until it happened. All the words he told himself never made much sense to him, but your baby girl did. Once she was born, everything made sense. He saw beauty in life for the first time since he met you, and now that there was a constant reminder of your love in this world, he would never forget the world’s beauty again. He didn’t trust his driving skills, so like Namjoon, he asked another member to drive your family home. Yoongi (who is apparently an amazing driver or something) drove the two of you home and Jungkook barely managed a thanks, too wrapped up in you and your child. “You should get to sleep, Jungkook. It’s getting late and we won’t be getting much sleep for the next year or so.” “It’s...okay. I want to stay up and watch her. Her first night in this wonderful world...”

- Admin Sammie

[pebble-xo]

Painted Hearts (12)

part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve.

One year later…

“Can you see your mum yet Mari?”

The little girl waiting by the window shook her head. “Not yet Miss!” she answered with an audible sigh, making you laugh lightly. You hadn’t been teaching your class for long but it was obvious from your first day that Mari had a flare for the dramatics.

You continued to tidy up your desk for the weekend, shutting your laptop down and packing everything you needed into your bag. You were in a rush to get home quickly so you could make a start on the dinner you had planned for Sehun. “I’m sure she’s just stuck in traffic,” you assured her with a smile.

“Or maybe she’s forgotten about me,” Mari sighed wistfully, dropping her head onto her folded arms and continuing to stare blankly out of the large window in your classroom.

“How about we go and wait by the school gate?” you suggested, pulling your coat off the back of your chair and shrugging it on.

Mari jumped up and down excitedly, climbing down from the window and running around to grab her bag and lunchbox from her hook at the back of classroom, before meeting you at the back door. The two of you held hands and walked across the playground fighting the winter chill that had settled. You leaned against the gate, glancing up and down the road while you waited for Mari’s mother.

“Will I have to sleep at school if my mummy doesn’t come?” she asked in her curiously inquisitive voice.

You laughed lightly, tucking a soft strand of hair behind Mari’s ear caringly. “Don’t be silly! You haven’t been forgotten Mari.” You felt sorry for the little seven year old. Her mother was a workaholic and in the small glimpses you had seen of them interacting, you were scarily reminded of Yuri and her disdainful witch of a mother. Definitely lacking in maternal instincts.

“Miss!” Mari stammered, pulling on the hem of your coat to gain your attention. “There’s a weird man sat on his car staring at us,” she told you in a stage whisper.

Looking up, your immediately wrapped an arm around Mari’s shoulders and pulled her into your side as your eyes scanned the road for this weird man. You settled on a dark blue sports car, its sleekness as familiar as the man lounging handsomely on the bonnet. An unconscious smile curled up the corners of your lips. “That particular weird man isn’t dangerous,” you joked, waving brightly to your boyfriend.

“Do you know him Miss?” Mari chirped excitedly next to you.

Awkwardly laughing, you tried to look anywhere apart from the little girl. “Well I…”

Thankfully you were saved by a large SUV pulling up outside the school. “Is that your mum?” you asked quickly to distract Mari from her questioning.

“MUMMY!” Mari jumped up excitedly and threw the gate back, running to where her mother was climbing out of her car. “See you on Monday Miss!” Mari shouted back as an afterthought, waving enthusiastically at you before throwing her arms around her mother and jumping into the back of her car.

You waited until Mari’s mother was driving off before turning your attention to Sehun, leaning over the gate with a coy smirk on your face as you watched him peel himself off his car and cross the road towards you. “I thought you were stuck in meetings until late,” you called out, biting your lip when you saw him running his stare up and down your body unabashedly.

“Change of plans,” he said loudly, quickening his step to arrive at the gate with a secretive smile on his irresistible lips. “I was only needed to sign the contracts with Yuri today.”

After Yuri finished her degree, she assumed her rightful position as the head of her father’s business. She was still dating Minseok, the two of them living in Yuri’s huge house that her mother had left for a tiki hut in Tahiti. And much to the irony of her mother, Yuri had managed to secure a very promising business partnership with Chanyeol and Sehun … without having to marry either of them.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked quickly.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my bags,” you answered, glancing back at the main building of the school in a moment of confusion. Then you caught on to his diverting techniques and frowned. “But that doesn’t answer my question Mr Oh. You told me you were working late. I was supposed to cook dinner tonight.”

He leaned across the gate, brushing his nose up against yours. “And now there’s a change of plans,” he murmured in a low voice that made the butterflies in your stomach somersault. “So get your bags and meet me by the car.” His lips pressed the corner of your mouth of a teasing second before he pulled back and stepped away from the gate, his hands in his pockets and an innocent expression on his devilishly handsome face.

“You’re up to something,” you commented with a frown, pushing away from the gate and giving him one last scowl before you headed back to your classroom for your things.

Five minutes later, you were giving Sehun your things to put in the boot of the car while you climbed into the passenger seat. “Home?” you asked when your boyfriend climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Not exactly,” he answered, not meeting your stare as he belted himself in and started the car.  “Just sit back and enjoy the ride. Everything else will be revealed when we get there.”

You laughed softly, letting your head drop back against your seat to look out of the window. The car slowly pulled out onto the road and soon your school disappeared around the corner. You immediately knew Sehun wasn’t taking you home - that was in the opposite direction. In fact he seemed to be heading out of the city altogether.

-x-

After a few hours of driving and a little nap for you, you began to feel like your surroundings outside the window were becoming familiar. You had definitely been to wherever Sehun was taking you to, although with the sun chased out of the sky, you couldn’t place where you actually were. You tried to probe Sehun with questions but he remained tight-lipped, simply telling you that you weren’t far.

It wasn’t until Sehun drove the car through a grand gateway and up a long driveaway that the penny dropped. A widening smile captured your lips and reached your eyes as the car moved closer to the spectacular water fountain illuminated like a beacon. Slowly the magnificently huge hotel came into view, growing taller and even grander as Sehun drove the car closer.

“What are we doing here?” you immediately asked, turning in your seat to face your grinning boyfriend.

He laughed in his soft low voice, agily steering around the water fountain with one hand while he reached over to your lap with the other, slipping his long fingers between yours and squeezing gently. “I thought you deserved a little weekend away,” he confessed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips and planting a small kiss. “With school ending next week for Christmas, it only seemed right to celebrate your first term as an official teacher.”

“How did I get so lucky?” you murmured in awe.

For a brief second, he pulled his eyes away from the road and met yours, their chocolatey colour glowing with flecks of amber and gold. You didn’t think you would ever get over how breathtakingly handsome he was. His stare made you feel like the only person in the world.

The car gently pulled to a stop, parking up alongside the royal blue carpet that had been laid out from the entrance of the hotel. Clearly they were expecting you both.

“I’m the lucky one,” Sehun told you in a quiet voice, switching the engine off and leaning across the gearstick to kiss your lips fully. His touch was warm and inviting, drawing you in like a moth to a flame while his lips moved slowly with yours. He dragged his tongue unhurriedly across your bottom lip, opening your mouth as you tried to catch your breath.

But just when you thought the kiss was going to deepen, your boyfriend pulled himself back.

“Let’s get settled in,” he announced, fixing his hair with a rake of his fingers and then climbing out of the car. He had been acting very strangely since he picked you up from school. Something was definitely up.

As you moved to open your door, Sehun was already there, his hand awaiting yours like the perfect gentleman. You murmured a soft ‘thank you’, wrapping your fingers around his and letting him escort you along the blue carpet towards the hotel as night crept in. Since dating Sehun, you had been to many of his hotels - he liked to steal you away for weekends like this, but not in such a surprising manner. However this hotel, on the edge of the beach, with its beautiful decor and spectacular views, was definitely your favourite. Especially for the sentimental value it held too.

“We haven’t been back here since our first trip,” you mused quietly, moving closer into his side to press your cheek up against his upper arm. Staring up at the grandeur of the building, all the memories came flooding back, leaving a soft smile on your lips.

“This was where I made you mine,” he whispered, planting a small kiss in your hair. He never ceased to give you butterflies. A simple touch or a few loving words and you just melted.

Before either of you could continue your reminiscing, the hotel manager Mr Lee stepped into the hotel entrance to greet you both just as you climbed the short staircase. “Welcome back Mr Oh!” he enthused loudly, reaching out with a friendly hand to shake.

Sehun released your hand for a moment with a little squeeze, giving Mr Lee a solid handshake before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you back into his side. “Good to see you haven’t burnt the place down Mr Lee,” he teased.

“It’s a pleasure to have you back too,” Mr Lee exclaimed brightly, turning his attention unexpectedly in your direction. He even held out a hand for you to shake.

Slightly stunned, you reached out and gripped his hand tight. “Thank you Mr Lee,” you answered in a small and uncertain voice. “I think this is my favourite hotel that Mr Oh owns.”

“That is music to my ears,” Mr Lee replied cheerfully, stepping back to allow you both to continue into the hotel.

Sehun led the way, guiding you into the spectacular royal blue and gold decorated foyer. “Did you get my email this morning?” he asked with a glance behind you to make sure Mr Lee was following.

You were too busy staring in awe at the beautiful mermaid mosaic that made up the floor to pay full attention to Sehun’s conversation. However out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mr Lee nod his head.

“And everything is set?” Sehun asked, stopping you for a moment while he made eye contact with his hotel manager.

“Just as you instructed.”

Letting his hand slip off your shoulders, Sehun stepped in front of you and held out his hand. The motion made your heart flutter with unknown excitement. “Shall we get settled in our suite before dinner?” he asked in his low enticing voice. His dark eyes sparkled in the soft glow of the chandeliers in the foyer, drawing you in.

As if you could ever say no.

Smiling at his familiar handsome smirk on his lips, you let him pull you quickly into the elevator, twisting your fingers around his absentmindedly as you climbed up to the 10th floor. When you noticed the floor you were heading towards, you eyed your boyfriend with a small frown. “Are we staying in the same suite as before?” you asked.

He nodded, short and deliberate like his mind was on something else. “1005 has the greatest views in the hotel. Only the best for my girl.” He pulled you closer into his tall body, whispering the last words directly into your ear.

You thought you were going to faint on the spot.

Thankfully the doors opened with a ‘ping’ and cool air rushed at your body, giving you a short but necessary chance to breathe. Sehun was intoxicating: enough was never going to be enough for you.

Planting a soft kiss on your temple, Sehun tugged you out of the elevator and down the corridor, familiarly stopping outside room no.5. From his back pocket, he produced the keycard and slipped it into the lock, opening the door with one swift movement for you to walk in. “My lady first.”

You slowly strode into the suite, eyes widening in astonishment as you took everything in. Tall pillar candles were positioned all around the suite, plunging the room in a warm golden hue and carving out a small path to follow inside. As you stepped between the candles, you casted your eyes down to your feet and noticed dark red rose petals scattered throughout, paving the way for you. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your hands lifting to cover your mouth in amazement. “Oh baby!” you cooed breathlessly, peering over your shoulder to see the man responsible for all the love filling up in your heart.

He was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded with a smirk on his glowing face that told you he was happily admiring his handiwork. “The sea looks amazing this time of night too,” he hinted at, tilting his head to the far wall made up entirely of glass while he peeled himself away from the door.

Flashing him a growing smile, you practically skipped up to the window. The sky had already darkened to night, the sun having been chased over the horizon to leave blue and purple colours speckled with twinkling stars. Below was the sea, dark waves creating pale froth as they crashed down on the beach.

Your heart stopped when you saw the beach. The sand was devoid of people, not even a lonely couple taking a romantic stroll. Instead there were more candles, thousands of them arranged to spell out a simple question.

‘MARRY ME?’

You sighed wistfully, thinking how romantic it was for someone to propose that way. “Sehun, come and see this,” you exclaimed excitedly, beckoning him closer with your hand. But when he didn’t come, you glanced over your shoulder to find him down on one knee in the middle of the suite … and the penny dropped.

“Sehun!” you breathed, staring incredulously with lips parted and eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

He smiled up at you nervously, his sweet chocolatey eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “Asking you to marry me?” he replied in a small, very unlike-Sehun voice.

Stepping a shaky step away from the window, you stopped in front of your boyfriend and let him take your hand in his, spreading warmth up your arm and through your body. “You d-did all this?” you stuttered, your mind running a mile a minute to match your racing heart.

Was this really happening?

His lithe fingers brushed over the back of your hand in a soft caress, his eyes melting you with his loving stare. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were something special. It was your eyes: so beautiful I could get lost in them for hours and I wouldn’t even feel the time pass. You were so different to anyone I had ever met and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get you out of my head. Why else would I wait outside someone else’s house just for a chance to walk you home?”

A soft laugh slipped out from between your lips. You remembered it like it was yesterday, the memory burned into your brain. He was so nervous when he introduced himself back then, sort of like how he was now, and all you could think was how cute it made him. “To get my number, wasn’t it?” you recalled, beaming down at him as tears began to fill your eyes.

“And steal a kiss,” he added in a whisper, never taking his eyes off you. It was impossible not to feel completely loved when he looked at you like that. It made your heart stutter and stammer affectionately.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, his long eyelashes splayed out across his cheeks, and took a sharp, nervous inhale. “You are everything I could ever want,” he confessed softly, clinging to your hand. “I never expected someone to walk into my life like you have and change it all, but you … you painted yourself onto my heart.” He revealed his dark eyes once again, meeting yours and taking your breath away with the vulnerability they held. “Because of you, I’m a better man. You made me want to be a better man!”

Small tears started to fall down your face, blurring your vision around the edges until you could no longer focus on the individual candles, just the softened warm glow. But you hardly even noticed it, your focus completely on the man knelt down in front of you. Your heart swelled to its very brim with love, overwhelming your body and making your knees wobble weakly. Unable to stand up any longer, you slipped to the floor, almost collapsing into Sehun’s lap.

Letting go of your hand, he reached up and cradled your cheek with his palm, pushing his fingers up into your hair to brush the top of your ear. “I don’t know how I made someone like you fall in love with me,” he told you softly, never letting his eyes leave yours. Not even to blink.

His eyes had always been one of your favourite features: the way their colour changed subtly in different lights; the way they shone like stars when he saw you, the way they would always tell you how he was feeling, even when his words wouldn’t. Right now though, his eyes were only filled with love - twinkling in the glow of the candles, shining brightly with your reflection. It only made the tears fall faster from your own.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, dropping his gaze for a moment as he pulled a small crimson box out from behind his back. “But I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to become worthy of your love. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

The lid of the velvet box lifted, revealing beautiful sparkling ring. The band was silver, encrusted with soft lilac jewels, a huge teardrop diamond set in the middle. It was utterly breathtaking, a statement of his love that matched your taste completely. “Sehun, it’s gorgeous!” you whispered, feeling your throat tightened with emotions.

“Is that a yes then?” he asked nervously, a flicker of doubt shining in his eyes. It was the vulnerable side of your boyfriend that only you were lucky enough to see.

It was you who was the lucky one though. You were the one who didn’t deserve him, who didn’t feel worthy of his love. Since Sehun had walked into your life, you hadn’t smiled or laughed or loved so much in your life. He had brought such colour to your life, it was hard to imagine what it was like before. Which is why you paused to answer his question, because you couldn’t understand how he didn’t think you’d say…

“Yes!”

You watched the astonishment register on his face, soft lips parting as he stared at you with incredulity. “Really?” he breathed.

You didn’t hesitate this time. You rose up onto your knees, drawing level with his face so you could reach up and push your fingers into his dark hair. His eyes fluttered shut with pleasure as your hands moved to the back of his head, slowly lowering his face to meet yours. When you were mere centimetres apart, you saw the chocolate colour of his eyes reappear and stare up at you with all the love in the world.

“Of course it’s a yes,” you told him softly with a smile, dipping your head to finally press your lips on his.

He reacted immediately, hands wrapping themselves around your waist and lifting you onto his lap to hold you flush up against his body. His warm lips molded into yours, slow and gentle like you were a delicate flower. Through his touch and his kiss, you could feel his love filling you up, lifting you to a blissful euphoria. With parted lips, you breathed him, letting him overwhelm all of your senses so all you could taste or smell or feel was Sehun.

You could have kissed him for hours, simply sat on the floor in each other’s arms sharing the same air. But then the enormity of what had just happened hit you, your lips pulling away from his with an audible pucker. You kept your hands in his hair, loving the silky texture fall between your fingers. “Did you really just ask me to marry you?” you asked in disbelief. You couldn’t believe it was all real.

Then again, being with Sehun always felt a dream.

His smile stretched up to his eyes and made your heart skip. “I did,” he answered with a little chuckle. One of his hands coasted up your body, his long fingers caressing your cheek as he cupped your chin and tilted it up to his face. “Did you really just agree to marry me?”

Giggling into the palm of his hand, you dipped your head and nodded. “A million times yes!” you exclaimed, meeting his bright eyes and melting under his stare.

“My beautiful fiancé,” he breathed, letting his hands slip off you for a moment while he recovered the small velvet box from the floor. “I believe you dropped this,” he said with a charming smirk. Taking the ring out, he dropped the box and reached for your left hand. In one fluid motion, he slid the ring up your fourth finger and fixed it in place with a gentle kiss. “You’re mine now.”

You beamed at his words, feeling a warmth spread through your body like his love was seeping into every cell. The last year and a half with Sehun had been a rollercoaster, but you genuinely couldn’t imagine your life with anyone else. No matter how crazy life got, he was always by your side, a constant amongst the chaos that you could rely on.

“You’re painted on my heart too Oh Sehun,” you confessed in a whisper, smiling as his face lit up like stars sparkling in the night sky. “Forever.”

THE END!

I’m so sorry this took so long to post! I wanted to make it longer and show other little snippets but the words just wouldn’t come to me. I was just staring at the wall with a blank expression and it was really getting me down. But I did manage to write an ok proposal so at least I had something to post.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter just like you’ve enjoyed all of Painted Hearts. It has been a pleasure to write all this fluff and I hope to write lots more fluff in the future!

Sending you all lots of love

Jade xo

[masterlist]

[elysianmars]

Lams 2?

We were dancing but all of a sudden it’s a slow song and we’re standing here awkwardly staring at each other.

Putting this under a cut because it’s waaaay longer than it should be haha!

“Thank fuck that absolute car crash of a day is dead and gone,” Alex said, flinging himself bodily onto the sofa and groaning in audible satisfaction as he wriggled into a comfortable position. “I honestly thought it would never end and I’d somehow be stuck there forever, caught between two planes of existence or some shit.”

“Don’t get too settled there man, the cab will be here in a few minutes.” John emerged from the bathroom, a small pot of pomade in his hand and his eyes fixed in fond exasperation on his friend’s sprawling form.

“Mnghhhh!” Alex sat up a little, taking in John’s outfit: black skinny jeans, a white tank top and a black leather jacket slung over one of his shoulders. “Wait, the cab to where? Where are you going all dressed up like that? It’s practically midnight already!”

“Uh, I’m not going anywhere, but we’re going to my sister’s birthday party and we’re already late, so maybe hurry up and get changed. Unless you want to go dancing and drinking tequila in your crumpled work suit?”

“Oh fuck, is that tonight? I’m sorry, I completely blanked on that. Where is it again? I have no idea what to wear, ahhh!”

“No need to feel quite so sorry for yourself. I know you’re tired, and agreeing to come in the first place is doing me a solid so we’ll just get some food there, hang out with Martha for a bit, get a few dances in and retire for an early night in like, 90 minutes tops. Well,” John said, grimacing as he checked the time on his watch, “early-ish. And it’s in some club in Soho so you can wear whatever you want, but try to be quick about it. I just ordered the cab but it’s a Tuesday night so it won’t take long to come.”

“The things I do for you, John Laurens,” Alex muttered under his breath as he made his way to his bedroom and began sifting through his shirts. He pulled out a navy button down and some black jeans and stepped into the bathroom to have a quick shower before changing, trying not to look too critically at himself as he stripped out of his work shirt and stood under the hot water.

He knew that day a few weeks back that he would regret agreeing to go to John’s sister’s birthday with him, but at the time there was no way he could say no. The past few months had been incredibly tough on his best friend, as his already strained relationship with his family came close to breaking point when he came out during an argument with his father and was told to leave the house until things calmed down. When Martha had called him to say she was having her birthday in New York and yes of course he was invited and actually she would be offended if he didn’t show up, it was the most animated Alex had seen John look in weeks.

And Alex was a complete sucker for an excited John Laurens.

He got dressed quickly, choosing not to bother trying to do anything about the bags under his eyes or the slightly ashy quality to his skin from exhaustion. This was the worst part, going out on a weeknight with John; he was already tired and cranky, and John looked like he had just stepped off the runway in Milan or right out of one of Alex’s dreams, effortlessly stylish and glowing even though he had been awake for hours too, and would also need to be up by five the next morning to go to the gym.

“Hey, cab’s here!” John said, throwing his arm around Alex’s shoulder and leading him to the living area to collect his stuff. “Thanks for coming tonight man, I really won’t keep you out too late, I know you’ve had a long day.”

“It’s no problem.” They took the stairs and John raced ahead, Alex realising quickly he intended it to be a competition and not wanting to lose.

As they settled into the cab, John fastening his seat belt and texting his sister to let her know they were on their way, Alex fought to stifle a yawn.

“I honestly promise we will be back in two hours tops,” John said a little guiltily. “What time do you have to be in tomorrow anyway?”

“I have a conference call at 6.30 but I need to be there to prep a little earlier so I’m aiming to be up at five. And it’s fine, seriously. I’ll be wide awake once we start dancing.”

It wasn’t long before they pulled up at the club, Alex rolling his eyes as John insisted on paying the cab fare and covering the entrance price for them both.

“Thank god you’re here, I don’t think I know anyone else aside from Martha,” John said, leaning down slightly to shout into Alex’s ear so he’d be heard over the booming music. He still had his hand splayed across Alex’s lower back from when he guided him into the club from the line outside and, realising this, quickly pulled it away. “So here’s the plan: I’ll go say hi to Martha, give her her present and catch up. You scope out the food, maybe get us a drink if you’re feeling it and then we can have a few dances and get out of here?” John scanned the room in search of his sister as he spoke, and when he spotted her at the bar knocking back a shot of tequila the smile that broke out on his face had Alex reminding himself how to breathe and why that was important.

“I can see food at the bar so I’ll grab a table and get us some. And we are having three dances, MAXIMUM. Oh, tell Martha I said happy birthday!”

The club was full of people noticeably younger than him and Alex actively pushed down the desire to get the hell out of there, go home and sleep through to his stupidly early alarm in the morning.

It wasn’t until he picked up some food from the bar that he realised how hungry he was, and a few mouthfuls into a plate of chorizo mac and cheese he looked up to see John coming over.

“I JUST REQUESTED A SONG!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO YELL!” Alex could feel the corners of his mouth quirk in amusement and they both started to laugh, John placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder as if to steady himself.

“COME ON, LET’S GO TO THE DANCEFLOOR! MY SONG IS NEXT.” This Is What You Came For had just started, and John all but dragged Alex to the dancefloor, somehow managing to move in perfect time to the music.

“But she’s looking at you-oooh!” Alex lost himself in the throng of people dancing, laughing with John as they scream sang the lyrics to each other. It was the first time he had been dancing sober in a very long time and yet his nerves felt electrified. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so good.

John moved closer and whispered into Alex’s ear. “And everybody’s watching her…” Still caught up in the music, Alex continued to dance against John, gasping slightly when John started to grind back. The look in his eye was devious, dangerous, and Alex fought against the instinct to pull back and walk away.

John’s hands were on his hips now.

Alex closed his eyes and breathed heavily, moving to the music and feeling relieved when the song ended and the song John requested started.

He burst into laughter when he heard the intro.

“DID YOU REALLY REQUEST ‘YEAH’ JUST FOR ME?” he asked John, throwing his head back laughing. Almost without realising it, he started to fall into the dance he had come up with years ago, the very dance he had told John about a few weeks ago when they had gotten drunk over pizza in their apartment on a rainy Saturday night.

He wished he was drunk now.

He focused on his movements and the beat of the song around him, which seemed to be blaring even more loudly now somehow. He could feel John dancing close to him, pressing against him, and he gave himself over to the sensation, let himself enjoy it.

When the song ended, Alex turned to face John, gearing up for the next one. He hadn’t anticipated a sudden change of pace in the form of Truly, Madly, Deeply.

John looked as though he had been jolted, a blush spreading across his cheeks as the crowds melted away and people began to couple off and sway in time to the music.

“Uh, I’ll just say goodbye to Martha and we can get out of here,” he said, backing away gently to avoid stepping on anyone.

Alex reached out and placed his hand on John’s elbow, guiding him back toward him.

“Hey,” he said, looking straight into his eyes. “I promised you three dances, right?”

He leaned up and, brushing a wayward curl behind John’s ear, pressed their lips together. If John was taken aback, he recovered quickly. He pulled Alex closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around him and opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Alex responded eagerly, moaning against him and sliding a hand under his tank top to run his fingers across his abs.

“Actually,” John said, pulling away slightly, “I think I’ll let you break that promise if it means getting out of here.” He flashed Alex a wicked grin and leaned in to whisper in his ear again. “What do you think?”

“I think I need to text Washington and tell him I’m coming down with something and won’t be in for the next few days, and while I’m doing that you need to order an uber because I want to be home right fucking now.”

“On it like a car bonnet!”

Fifteen minutes later John was sitting in the back of an uber with a lapful of Alexander Hamilton, texting his sister to apologise for bailing without saying goodbye and trying not to melt with nervous anticipation.

“How is this happening now when we’re sober? How many times have we been completely gazeboed drunk around each other and nothing happened and yet here we are?” Alex murmured, more to himself than to John.

“Because we’re fucking idiots,” John said, throwing his phone into his pocket and pulling Alex down into a kiss. “And also because I hadn’t seen you dancing to Usher and let me tell you, that was a game changer!”