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voraciousvore · 3 months ago

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Giganterra (Chapter 59)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (58) | Next (60)

Content Warning: Blood, animal abuse

Word Count: 2.4k

------ Chapter 59: Conspiracy ------

It was challenging enough to work up the resolve to assassinate his father, but another level of difficulty entirely to execute a plan of action. The royal siblings were at a loss as to how they could kill the king, despite their shared kinship and proximity. King Richard was suspicious of everyone, even his own children, and protected himself accordingly with formidable safeguards. Ronny was all too familiar with Ajax’s legendary strength. Even if he miraculously managed to injure the king, he needed to guarantee his death with an immediate fatal hit, lest he survive and recover with healing potion.

With no ideas, the siblings decided to sleep on it and regroup in the morning. Neither of the siblings slumbered that night, as they tossed and turned in bed. Bianca was entirely consumed by regret, sadness, and shame. Ronny, too, was eaten up with worry: He hated to imagine what Tanya was suffering. He would rather have all his teeth pulled, one by one, and his nails ripped from his hands, than put her through the abuses that he knew his father would inflict on her. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Tanya sitting in his father’s hands, being stuffed down his pants, or flailing inside his belly. The mental images were enough to make him want to puke. He couldn’t stomach it. He would do anything to save her, even if it meant risking his own life.

The morning rolled around, and Ronny still had no plan. He tumbled out of bed, slapped on some clothes, and trudged to his morning class, rumpled and dejected. To his surprise, Bianca was waiting for him with a savage grin.

“I have an idea.”

Ronny perked up. “Really?”

Before she could say another word, Milton walked in. He bowed deferentially and set his satchel down next to his desk. Ronny frowned at the interruption, but sat down in his seat. Obviously, they couldn’t discuss their plot within earshot of a third party.

Before the tutor could begin the lesson, Bianca asked, “Mr. Henderson? What do you know about shrinking potion?” Ronny’s heart skipped a beat.

Milton was surprised by the unusual inquiry, but did his best to answer her question. “I know a few things. From what Hunter told me, it’s a diluted form of the same magic used to shrink Minimaterra. The formula consists of ground-up fairy wings and a magic-user’s blood. And it has a temporary effect that lasts approximately twelve hours, depending on the dosage.”

“How small can it shrink someone?”

Milton scratched his head. “I’m... not sure, exactly. Personally, I’ve never seen it used on anyone. I’d have to ask Hunter. He’s the source of my information on the matter.”

“You’re on good terms with him?” Bianca pressed.

“Well, yes, I suppose. Why do you ask?” Milton answered, confused by the line of questioning. He sensed she had a more surreptitious purpose than just intellectual curiosity.

Ronny and Bianca exchanged glances. If they were going to steal the shrinking potion from the locked cabinet, they needed a distraction to get Hunter out of the room. “Can you talk to him?”

“If you really want me to. Though, to be frank, I’d prefer not to,” Milton responded, unsettled by the request. If he wasn’t talking to the princess, he’d suggest that she ask herself instead. He didn’t want to interact with Hunter unless he absolutely had to.

Ronny realized, in order for their plan to work, he’d have to push Milton further. He strongly suspected that Milton was a human sympathizer, based on the content of his lessons and how discomfited he seemed by Bianca’s treatment of her human accessories. He decided, boldly, to take a risk.

“The king slaughtered Bianca’s humans,” he blurted out. A flash of shock passed over the tutor’s face. “And he took Tanya, the small human woman I had in my care, for himself. Please, we need your help. We need to get our hands on that shrinking potion. You understand?”

Milton’s eyes widened as the meaning in Ronny’s words dawned on him. “Oh.” He gulped. This was extremely dangerous talk, the sort of conversation that could get him killed. This was treason.

His initial knee-jerk reaction was to back out. He didn’t want to get involved and face the wrath of the king. However, as his thoughts drifted to Millie, Candy, and Iris, he realized the tremendous significance of this moment. As long as the king was alive, he was a huge threat: not only for the humans under Milton’s protection, and all the humans in the castle, but for the entire human race. He chastised himself for his selfishness. If Ronny, the Crown Prince, was sympathetic to humans, he could alter the tide of history.

His decision was made. “I will help.”

Ronny nodded firmly and turned to Bianca. “What’s the plan?”

“Hunter keeps the shrinking potions behind bars in a locked cabinet. Once Milton lures him out, we’ll find the key and steal a bottle.”

“Okay.” Milton took a deep breath. His nerves were jittery, but he maintained a façade of calm while he descended into the bowels of the castle, alone. He found Hunter in his laboratory, reading intently. Hunter brightened when he spotted Milton coming in through the door.

“Milton! What brings you here today?” he inquired.

The pedagogue kept his posture and expression casual as he leaned into the doorframe, hands straying to his pockets. In his peripheral vision, he spied the glowing green vials of potion, inaccessible behind a padlock with metal bars. “I have more questions regarding your craft. And I want to see the unicorn you were talking about, if that’s okay. I’ve never beheld a live one before.”

Hunter grinned. “Oh? I wouldn’t let just anyone see it, but I suppose I could take you there!” He rummaged about in his desk drawer until he brought out a ring of big rusty keys. Milton suppressed a frown. Hopefully, the key they required wasn’t on that ring, or the royal children would be clever enough to pick the lock.

The sorcerer led him down the shadowy hall, deeper into the subterranean depths. There was a insidious, damp chill that wormed its way under his clothing and peppered his skin with gooseflesh. Hunter stopped at a metal door and scraped one of the keys in the lock. The door peeled open with a tortured squeal.

An animal odor permeated the air. The cell contained no natural light source, yet a large mass in the center emitted a very faint iridescence. Chains clinked together as the sizable object moved, and Milton realized he was gazing upon a living creature: the unicorn. It was slightly larger than an ordinary horse, yet slender and elegant, with an otherworldly pearlescent sheen to its fur. Its silvery mane and tail glittered despite the dirt encrusted in the hair. The resplendent horn on its forehead caught the firelight from Hunter’s torch and sparkled like a crystal, veined with rainbow highlights. The poor beast was shackled to the hard floor and wallowing in its own filth, yet shined with the majesty and grace innate to a magical creature.

Milton was saddened to see the deplorable conditions the unicorn was kept in. Besides the lack of sanitation and light, and the heavy chains, there were thin tubes hooked into its legs, piercing the flesh, that fed into a byzantine contraption with a crank and limp rubbery sacks hanging from the sides.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Hunter remarked.

“Yes,” Milton replied softly. “Beautiful creature.”

“Yeah, sure I guess, but I was talking about this,” Hunter clarified, gesturing to the bizarre machine. “I use it to harvest the unicorn’s blood. Here, let me demonstrate.”

He grabbed the crank and twisted it. Cogs and wheels rotated with grinding squeaks and an obnoxious sucking sound emanated from the tubes as air was vacuumed through. The unicorn whinnied with pain while an ethereal fluid, like quicksilver, drained from its body. The dangling sacks slurped up the magical blood and swelled full. Milton wanted to tear his hair out as the horrific torment assaulted his ocular faculties. He was tempted to shove Hunter away, kick him down, and free the innocent creature. The unicorn looked at him sidelong with an intelligent, velvety blue eye that imitated the night sky, studded with stars.

Milton bit his tongue hard. He needed to keep his mouth shut; he couldn’t ruin everything now. The unicorn was merely one injustice among many, a microcosm of the giant king’s abuses and wanton destruction of everything good. They needed to assassinate the king so the cruelties would cease, so he could no longer corrupt and spoil everything he touched with his tainted influence. He used all his willpower to repress his complaints and distracted Hunter with lengthy questions. The sorcerer was more than willing to ramble on about his unethical experiments and the creative, twisted ways he implemented his magic. Milton understood that he needed to keep Hunter occupied for as long as possible, so he silently grated his teeth as he listened to horrors that made his ears bleed.

Once Milton lured Hunter away, Bianca and Ronny snuck into the sorcerer’s domain beneath the castle. They crept into the room with all the potions and began searching for the key: emptying drawers, shuffling through his papers and books, checking every crevice and cranny. They found plenty of dust to make them sneeze, exotic powders and ingredients, spiders and earwigs and silverfish, enigmatic oddities—but no key.

“Maybe we can pick the lock,” Bianca suggested. Ronny grabbed a pair of forceps, jammed the metal tips into the keyhole, and scrambled them around. Bianca watched in tense silence as Ronny scratched and fiddled with them for several minutes.

Ronny huffed. “This isn’t working.” He threw the forceps onto the desk with frustration. “Can’t we just break the damned thing?”

“No,” Bianca said with a shake of her head. “If we tamper with it, Hunter will know, and he’ll snitch. Trust me, I know.” She grimaced.

Ronny frowned. “What can we do then?” The siblings stared at the glowing vials in the cabinet, just beyond their reach, taunting them. Ronny poked his finger through the bars, brows furrowed in thought. His dark eyes lit up. “I have an idea! Wait here.”

Without explaining himself, he raced out of the room, for he knew his time was limited. He stampeded over to the kitchen and burst in, startling the chefs.

“I’m hungry!” he yelled petulantly, harnessing his bratty side to cover up his true motives. “Give me something sweet to eat! With that human over there!” He stabbed his finger at Eren, who blinked at him questioningly. She’d never seen the prince in the kitchen before.

“Right away, of course, Your Highness!” Bucky answered. He spun around and barked, “Cruor!”

“I’m on it already!” Cruor snapped back. He heaped up a mountain of sugary treats on a platter and dropped Eren haphazardly in the middle. He was huffing and puffing and sweating, straining against his tight clothes, struggling to move around the kitchen with his increased girth. He offered the plate to Ronny, bowing his head. “Enjoy, Your Highness.”

“Thanks,” Ronny muttered and rushed out. He hustled down the hall, teeth clinched with stress. He hoped he’d make it back in time, before Hunter caught on to their scheme.

“What’s going on?” Eren queried, sensing the abnormality of the situation. “Why are you-”

“You want to take down the king, right?” Ronny interjected, holding the plate close to his lips so his voice wouldn’t carry.

Eren’s eyes blazed. “Absolutely.”

“Well then, you’re going to help me.” Eren stared up at the giant prince in shock. She didn’t think that he would go so far as to betray his own father. She almost couldn’t believe it, though she had of course personally witnessed the strain between them. Her heart skipped a beat as Ronny carried her down into the darker lower levels of the castle.

“W-where are you taking me?” she stammered. She’d never been here before.

“Shush. You’ll see soon enough,” Ronny muttered in return. Eren lapsed into silence, with only the sound of Ronny’s thudding footfalls bouncing off the walls. She was along for the ride, whether she liked it or not. The prince entered Hunter’s study, where Bianca was waiting impatiently.

“A human! That’s brilliant!” Bianca praised, immediately catching on to Ronny’s plan. Without any preamble, Ronny stuffed Eren between the bars of the locked cabinet.

“Hey! What the hell?” Eren hissed as she tumbled over the dusty wood.

“No time to explain! Drag one of those potions over here!” Ronny commanded. Eren, hearing the urgency in his tone, sprang into action. Each glass vial was taller than a human, with a slender tapered neck and stopped with a cork at the top. Eren struggled to drag one of the heavy bottles over. The mysterious luminescent liquid sloshing within mesmerized her.

She brought it up to the bars. “Now what?” The bottle was too wide to slide all the way through.

“I got this,” Bianca said. She reached a finger through the bars and tipped the potion on its side, so that the narrow neck protruded through the bars. She borrowed an empty vial from one of the shelves, uncorked the bottle of potion, and poured in a measured quantity, generous enough to use without being missed. She replaced the cork and pushed the bottle back into an upright position. With some difficulty, Eren hauled the potion back to its original spot.

“Hurry, Eren. We need to get out of here,” Ronny urged, motioning with his fingers for her to hop back into his hand. Eren didn’t entirely trust him, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She took the plunge and squeezed through the bars into his palm. He curled his hand around her so she wouldn’t fall and ran out, heart beating fast.

Ronny and Bianca clambered up the stairs. Milton performed his role perfectly, for Hunter was nowhere to be seen. Bianca’s quarters were closest, so the siblings retreated to the privacy of her boudoir and shut the door, panting for breath. Ronny deposited Eren onto the bed. She huddled up nervously, intimidated by the two royal giants towering over her like buildings.

“Now what?” Ronny asked. “How are we going to shrink him? There’s no way we can get something like this past Chester. He’ll smell it from a mile away.”

“The king isn’t going to shrink,” Bianca explained. “You are.”

Chapter 60

Tag List: @maybeiamdownbad @yummynomms @tinycoded360

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thegamingcatmom · 6 days ago

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You asked for asks and I'm asking :) I know is probably a long shot from where we stand rn bc everything is new and terrifying, no matter how nice they are, how beautiful they are... MC has still been abducted and that's well, quite a shocking experience I might say, idk I've never been abducted by pretty women before so wat do I know, right(?) Thing is MC can't stand them, Irina can't stand MC, Tanya and Kate want to be in MC's pants and Eleazar/Carmen play a more chill kind of parental figure in all this, whic I'd say they both are the most neutral of the bunch but not less to blame bc well, they are part of it too. My question is. How the hell is this even gonna work? Like what's going to change for MC to go from hating them to tolerate them to eventually like them and fall in love with them? Same with Irina, how goes from wanting to unalive and suck MC dry to fall in love with her? I understand this may be kind of a huge spoiler to the future bc of obvs reason but I find it to be so interesting how the dynamics are going to change, sure is gonna be a bumpy road there (ha see what I did there? :p) but it is the goal after all, so I understand totally if you don't wanna say anything about it bc well, spoilers(?) But if you could at least share a lil bit of what's going through your mind on that regard? Bc in my mind I find it quite difficult, like is MC's love a lie? In the sense that she falls in love bc the trauma is so severe that she's accepted this is all that it is out there for her bc she is not getting out, like that's kind of sad but it is a possibility yk some kind of psychological response to trauma perhaps. or is her love going to be genuine, like she found true love bc she eventually got to know them and oh surprise they are not that bad despite the fact that they abducted her? (That doesn't sound pretty good either XD) But I think you'll understand where I am going with this? if not is ok I'll try to explain better (: Thanks <3

I knew I could count on you. ❤️

Aight so, right off the bat:

It is difficult. And complicated. And ugly. And beautiful. And just fucking complicated.

A bumpy road alright. 😉

...is MC's love a lie? In the sense that she falls in love bc the trauma is so severe that she's accepted this is all that it is out there for her bc she is not getting out

This is something I can answer with 100% certainty:

No, I won´t turn MC into a brainwashed puppet. I´m not saying she will always be honest with her abductors (which is well within her right, if you ask me), but when she does start developing feelings, they will be real.

...Whether she will accept them is another story. 🙈

But there´s so much that still needs to happen before we even get to that point. And I think this is really what it comes down to:

It´s about all these different struggles and obstacles MC & the Denalis will have to face - alone and together. These challenges will force changes - some for the better, some for the worse. But both is needed to make progress.

I mean, it´s easy to live in a bubble when there´s nothing there to burst it, right?

...Well, it has been burst the moment Tanya chose to bring MC home. Thing is, nobody´s realized it yet. 😅

I mentioned it a while back, but the Denalis have this system in place that has worked for centuries now. They never had a reason to change their way of living and their, well, "culture". Which basically means Tanya is the boss and everyone else just goes along with whatever strikes her mood at the moment.

...More or less. With lots of hissing and spitting. 😏

In other words: They´re a less than functioning community right now because Tanya is a less than ideal leader right now. A leader is supposed to act in the best interest of everyone else, which means Tanya should have ended MC in those woods.

...Logically speaking. 😏

But ye, there´s a lot that needs to change first before we can even think about feelings, which means that all of this here-

Like what's going to change for MC to go from hating them to tolerate them to eventually like them and fall in love with them? Same with Irina, how goes from wanting to unalive and suck MC dry to fall in love with her?

...can´t really be answered in a straightforward way. It´s gonna be a long and bumpy road (hehe) for all of them, and it´s because of those bumps that they´ll eventually (hopefully) become the best versions of themselves. Because, in the end, that´s what it´s all about. ❤️‍🩹

...she found true love bc she eventually got to know them and oh surprise they are not that bad despite the fact that they abducted her?

I mean...getting to know them is defo a huge part of it all. If not THE part. This will (hopefully) become clearer as the story progresses, but MC & The Sisters have more in common than they´re currently aware of. And I think this will make a big difference, in the long run.

(Tip: Check out Chapter 2 again. 🔍)

BONUS: REMINDER

We´ve also got something else heading our way that might cause some panic, distress, disbelief confusion among The Sisters.

Don´t forget: MC has a +1. 😉

Thanks a lot for your ask! I love reading those novels. 💋💋💋

#tumblr asks #the bumpy road home #formerly the sisters #twilight #the twilight saga #the denalis #denali coven #denali sisters #tanya denali #kate denali #irina denali #carmen denali #eleazar denali

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saltirebookreviews · 3 months ago

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Book: Arise the Queen

Author: Tanya Anne Crosby

Series: The Goldenchild Prophecy, Book #4

Release Date: October 15, 2024

Publisher: Oliver Heber Books

Book Length: 379 Pages

Overall Rating: 5/5 Five Stars

Blog Rating: 5/5 Saltire Flags

Arise the Queen is the exciting conclusion of the Goldenchild Prophecy series… This is the last installment!

Pretania 11th Century BC

Queen Gwendolyn is furious and feels totally betrayed by Málek, the one who owns her heart. However, she must save her people and Pretania and the Kingdom of Cornwall and she needs an Army to do this! There is one tiny problem: she only has an Army of three! So she desperately needs assistance, soldiers and sword arms!The only way Gwendolyn can accomplish this is by saving her people and country and not allowing her traitor husband the usurper to continue to destroy Pretania. Locrinus (Loc) is killing anyone in his path, this includes innocent men, women and children who won’t bend their knees to him! Of course Gwendolyn is at the top of the list, a woman he had imprisoned with the help of his mother and mistress who finally escaped his prison!

Traitor Loc murdered her family, cousins and friends, imprisoned Gwendolyn, taking her all her jewels and gowns and giving it to his mistress! Not even allowing her to bathe, forcing her to live in filth like an animal! It was humiliating and Gwendolyn swore he would pay for every horrible thing he has done to her, her family and the people she loved and cared about, especially her father! To do this Gwendolyn needed assistance, since she was forced into the fae realm she would use it to her advantage. She would try to seek an audience peacefully with the fae King and ask for his assistance with fae warriors. Unfortunately this fae King hates Gwendolyn and the human realm she represents! On top of this she has memories she has forgotten that needs to be remembered. Is that even a possibility?

However things don’t go as smoothly as Gwendolyn had hoped. Actually it is a total disaster with her mortal life possibly in danger! Furthermore the two fae people she trusts the most in the world with their grinning porbeagle teeth feeling totally betrayed like her soul is being emotionally ripped apart. With no aid to form an Army what will Gwendolyn do? Has Malek destroyed her love and betrayed her in a way which is worse than Loc’s imprisonment and humiliation? Afterall she did not love Loc but she still loves Málek even with his betrayal with Esme. She has learned some things in the fae realm but no matter with weapons at her disposal or a defense coat she still needed an army.

Can Gwendolyn do this with a broken heart? Does she and Málek have a future living in two different realms? Read and discover Gwendolyn and Pretanis’s fate in this spellbinding The Goldenchild Prophecy Series finale that readers will absolutely love!

All I can say is wow my heartbeat is still racing as I just finished reading “Arise the Queen” the fourth and last book in the Goldenchild Prophecy Series and what epic fantasy read it is that just blew my mind! I am wiping my tears away and definitely recommend a box of tissues ready at this emotional rollercoaster ride! This book just gripped me right from the start with so many twists and turns just hold onto your seat! It is no wonder that Tanya Anne Crosby is one of my most favorite authors that I have been reading for over thirty years! Crosby’s world building is absolutely brilliant! In addition the plot line is complex, emotional, complicated, awe-inspiring with well developed characters you can’t help but love or despise! I am sad this is the end of the series but it was superbly done, showing how Queen Gwendolyn puts her country and people before anything, even her heart.

This series finale also answers a lot of unanswered questions that I won’t tell as it would spoil the story. Especially since Loc has an army of ten thousand warriors and she has an army of three. I do not feel this is a stand alone book as I feel you need to read all four books to really comprehend Gwendolyn and Málek’s actions but each book is an excellently read that is beautifully done. Obviously Crosby based this on the real first Queen of England but made it an exhilarating magical fantasy novel that is a total masterpiece!I have loved all four books and this finale was pure perfection as each book gripped me right from the start. As this book made me feel so many things I laughed, cried and sighed. A phenomenal series conclusion that was perfectly done! A book I absolutely loved!

The Goldenchild Prophecy Series

1)The Cornish Princess

2)The Queen’s Huntsman

3)The Forgotten Prince

4)Arise The Queen

Disclaimer: I received an advance copy from Oliver-Heber publishing. I voluntarily agreed to do an honest, fair review and blog. All thoughts, ideas and words are my own.

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flameoutfics · 3 years ago

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We’re Only Young and Naive Still Chapter 1

Summary: Nora is the first woman in the NHL, a recent call-up to the Calgary Flames, who has her own reasons for being there, much to the hesitation of her new teammates. As they get to know her though, she’ll find the family she never knew she wanted and sparks fly with a certain-future-captain. *This fic will update every Monday.

Nora waited outside the locker room for the rest of the team to join. She had been waiting for them to head out on the ice, knowing that they were in various states of undress behind the other wall. She had scrambled to get changed in the small bathroom that a member of the Avalanche’s front office had led her to. He’d sheepishly told her that this was the best that they could do and Nora had just nodded. She’d had to change in supply closets before in the absence of a women’s restroom close to the ice level.

Waiting in the empty corridor for the team allowed her anxiety to fester. Nora could only imagine what was going to await her once she got out onto the ice. There were some who were excited for her to become the first female NHL player to ever play a professional game. She knew they had clambered to get tickets, to show the little girls that anything was possible and that they, too, could join the NHL some day. Nora was nervous to step into that role of a role model, but she didn’t mind. It was the other faction, the one who had already mentioned her on Twitter and caused her to change her Instagram settings that worried her. They didn’t want her to play, they didn’t want a woman in the NHL. Nora could only imagine what they would say after her first game, that anything she’d do wouldn’t be good enough, that she was proof of why women didn’t belong in the NHL. Nora was so lost in her thoughts that she was jolted by the sound of the locker room door opening.

Jacob Markstrom readjusted his goalie mask on his face and headed out to the ice for warm ups. Nora followed close behind until they got to the ice’s edge.

“You first,” Jacob nodded towards the ice and gently tapped her on the back of her legs with his goalie stick. Nora sighed. It was tradition for players playing their first game to skate the first lap solo, but she’d rather forgo it. Nevertheless, she gritted her teeth and took her first steps onto the ice. For a moment, she hoped that with her hair tucked into her helmet, people wouldn’t recognize her, but as she started to gain momentum the crowd ignited. It was like everyone had an opinion. Sure she heard the cheers, but intermingled with them she heard the boos. To be honest, she wasn’t sure which there was more of. Much to her relief, after the first solo lap, the rest of the team piled on the ice and joined her for warm ups and she felt herself relax as she began to blend in with the other red jerseys.

Nora played 5:43 in her first NHL game. It wasn’t a lot, but it was a first. Nothing remarkable happened, and the Flames lost 3-1 in the end. It wasn’t an Auston Matthews level debut by any means but it wasn’t bad. She’d completed most of her passes and she’d made all of her line changes. Sutter didn’t play her much, nor did she expect it. She knew how he felt about having her on his team. She’d been great in the AHL racking up points and causing the hockey writers to wonder if she was going to break the glass ceiling and play in the NHL. Then she was brought up to the NHL and started practicing with the team, always being a healthy scratch when the final line up was decided. But the Flames kept losing and Nora knew that there was pressure on Sutter from the front office to play her. She wasn’t naive to the press that would surround her debut, neither was Brad. So, when Sutter finally announced that she was going to play her first NHL game, it wasn’t completely a surprise, but the timing took her off guard. The rest of the team had acknowledged it with polite cheers, but Nora knew that they weren’t thrilled to have her there either.

She’d sat in the locker room after the game, still fully in her gear while Sutter reamed them. “None of you played well today. Fuck, she played better than half of you and it was her first fucking game,” Sutter said as he pointed Nora out. She felt the cold gaze of the other players turn towards her as Sutter had pretty much just put a target on her back. She drowned the rest of his diatribe out and as she snuck a glance around the room, it looked like the rest of the team was also ignoring him. When he stormed off, Nora finally felt like she could breathe and retreated to the bathroom where she’d gotten dressed.

She’d only been in there for a few minutes before there was a knock on the door.

“Nora, they’re going to want you for post-game interviews,” Tanya, the PR rep said, from outside of the bathroom where Nora stripped out of her gear. She was sweaty from the game but knew she’d have to wait until she made it back to the hotel room before she could

“Okay,” Nora agreed, even though she knew that she was going to be the focus of the interview, “is anyone else going to be there?”

“Matthew will be too,” Tanya said. Nora sighed to herself but nodded.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute,” Nora said. She wished it was Jacob or even Johnny doing the interview with her instead of Matthew. She didn’t hate him, but she didn’t like him either. Since she’d been called up to practice with the team, he’d coolly ignored her. Most of the guys treated her that way too, with Jacob and Johnny being two exceptions.

Matthew was already waiting at the table that had been set up for them for press availability. He glanced up at her and nodded in acknowledgement but didn’t say anything. Nora didn’t know what she was expecting. Did she think he’d say ‘hi’ or ‘great job today’? They weren’t friends, they were barely even teammates.

“Alright, let’s start with the first question,” Tanya said.

“Nora, how did your first game in the NHL feel?” a reporter asked. It was a softball question and one that Nora appreciated.

“It was great. It was a dream come true, honestly,” Nora said, “and I’m really fortunate to be able to be here and on such an amazing team to share the game with them.”

“It’s not the result that I’m sure you wished for, though,” the reporter followed up.

“No,” Nora conceded, “I definitely thought that I could have played better, especially in the third period, but Matthew had an amazing goal in the second period, and really it’s just an honor to be here and play a game in the NHL.

“Any family here today to celebrate your first game with you?” A different reporter asked.

Nora pasted a smile on her face, “No, unfortunately they couldn’t make it, but I know they were watching from home.”

“I have a question for Nora…” another reporter started and Nora wished that just one of them could direct their attention to Matthew.

“Why aren’t you in the NWHL?” a reporter asked. That caused Nora to pause. The answer caught in her throat. She knew that was the question that thousands of people had on their minds. There was a league for female hockey players, a great league, so why wasn’t Nora playing in it? Nora had rehearsed the answer to the inevitable in the mirror for what felt like hundreds of times, but here the words failed her.

Tanya looked over at her and watched as she floundered for a response. “Sorry,” Nora said as she brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “would you mind repeating the question?”

“Sure, Nora, why aren’t you in the NWHL?” the reporter repeated.

“I- I-...”

“Alright, I think our time has wrapped up,” Tanya said as she closed out the interview, saving Nora from answering. Once all the reporters left, Nora turned to Tanya. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I couldn’t answer that.”

Tanya smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Don’t worry, we can discuss some possible answers and better prepare you for media availability in the future.”

“Thanks,” Nora said. Matthew hadn’t said anything except for the one question directed towards him about his second-period goal. All Nora wanted to do was go back to her hotel room and take a nice warm shower. She didn’t give either of them a chance to say anything and instead headed out and grabbed her coat, knowing her gear would travel with the rest of the team’s. She walked the couple of blocks back to the hotel. She kept her head down, hoping to remain unrecognized by fans who were still lingering by the arena and made it back to her hotel room without running into anyone. She stripped out of her Flames-branded gear and headed for the shower. In the mirror, she could already see bruises starting to develop from where she’d been checked into the boards. She should have been ecstatic to be playing in the NHL; most people in her position would be, but she didn’t. She just wanted the day to be over and to go to bed. That was what made her sad, that she didn’t care that much about being in the NHL, it was just a means to an end. Before she went to sleep, she took one more look at her phone and reminded herself why she was doing this. She knew why she was playing in the NHL; she just couldn’t say it.

Nora glanced around the dining room for breakfast the next day looking for a place to sit. It felt like high school all over again. Ideally, she would have sat near Jacob or Johnny, but their tables were all filled so instead she sat in an open seat with some of the other newer players, Elias, and Matthew. They were happily chatting about some football game that Nora knew nothing about. She tried to follow along for a while, but after realizing that she didn’t really have anything to contribute, she hurriedly ate her breakfast and wanted to rush back to her room. She cleared her plate and offered a faint excuse for something she’d forgotten in her room, hoping to leave. It wasn’t like any of them would notice that she was gone anyways. She’d only made it a little ways before she heard footsteps follow her out.

“What’s your problem?” Matthew asked as he cornered Nora.

“I don’t have a problem,” Nora said.

“You could at least try to pretend to be interested in getting along with the team,” Matthew said.

“What are you talking about?” Nora asked.

“You didn’t come out with us last night,” Matthew said.

“I wasn’t invited,” Nora answered.

“Everyone was,” Matthew said.

“Well I wasn’t,” Nora insisted.

“It was in the group chat,” Matthew said.

“I’m not in the group chat, so I didn’t see the message,” Nora said.

“Oh,” Matthew said.

“Yeah,” Nora said.

Matthew fished out his phone and fiddled around with a few buttons. “There, you should be added now.”

“Thanks,” Nora said. Matthew looked like he was going to say something more but reconsidered.

“Ready for the flight?” Matthew asked.

“Yeah,” Nora replied, “I’ll be back down soon.” She headed back up to her room and collapsed on the bed, with just a few minutes before she’d have to pack her things for the flight. Against her better judgement she scrolled through the group chat back to previous messages and saw messages from when it had been announced that she’d been called up to the Flames.

Johnny: That girl from the AHL’s being brought up.

Peter: Really? I didn’t think she was that good.

Elias: She’s on a five-game goal streak.

Matthew: We’re getting a girl on the team? Are we really that bad that they need to bring her up?

Nora sighed and put her phone away. Tears pricked her eyes as she tried to blink them away. There were other comments like that in the group chat that they hadn’t bothered to delete and Nora read them, wanting to know what her teammates really thought about her. Reactions ranged from ambivalent to disgust, with most somewhere in the middle. There was a knock on the door as a warning to head downstairs and Nora tried to compose herself.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked when Nora arrived downstairs with her bag.

“Yeah, I’m ready to head to Detroit,” Nora replied with a fake smile on her face.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #nhl fics #nhl imagines

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superhero--imagines · 4 years ago

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Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 here!

A/N: I already know some of y’all are going to be mad, it’s 2020 and twilight needs some diversity, don’t @ me.

* You’re not really sure how you got here

* “This ones done”

* Edward holds out the blood bag to you, carefully pulling out the needles from you beloved Deer, Hayden.

* “Ah, thank you.” You place it carefully along with the others, before lavishing Hayden with affection

* “You were so good today! You’re going to get extra carrots, yes you are!”

* You’re aware of Edwards gaze on you as he disinfects the injection point.

* “You know it’s illegal to have Deer as pets in Alaska don’t you?” The corner of his mouth is quirked in the smallest smirk you have ever seen, and you roll your eyes

* “Tanya got a permit, the official stance is they’re her deer, I just take care of them for some extra pocket money”

* Not that anyone would venture into the “siren house” to ask questions

* You knew people were probably wary of coming up to the estate, even the mail man looked dead scared when he left Irina’s Lululemon packages in the mailbox

* But you didn’t think the locals legit called the manse “The Siren House”

* Edward told you they used to call it “The Witch House” but then, upon seeing the Denali sisters, changed it to Siren

* Edward doesn’t say anything, just moves to take the filled blood bags up to the house

* Ever the gentleman

* You really thought Edward would show up once, figure out he couldn’t read your mind, and retreat into his own moody silence.

* You figured you would mostly be dealing with Carlisle, who would teach you how to draw blood from your heard of deers, and then you would be on your own.

* But instead it was Edward who volunteered to do it for you, Carlisle was busy with his day job after all.

* He shows up once a week, usually after school, and carefully extracts the blood

* Then he puts them inside the fridge and leaves

* You really don’t get what’s going on, if he hates you so much why even bother coming over in the first place

* You’re about to fall into your usual rhythm of handing him the blood bags, which he then puts in the fridge when he breaks your routine

* “Why-“ your head pops up from the small pile of blood bags and to him. He’s looking away, but then his gaze meets yours. “Why go through all this trouble for a few deer.”

* You grin and hand him a blood bag

* “Another vampire might say the same thing to you, why go through all the trouble for a few humans?”

* He flinches, and you laugh. He’s so unaware of himself it’s actually funny

* “For the record, I do it because they remind me of my (Dog/Cat/Pet).” He quirks an eyebrow at that.

* “Your pet?”

* You nod. You’re number one concern on arrival here had been whether your dog was okay, but sifting through your memories of this life, you realized your dog had passed away in the middle of high school.

* “When I look into their face, all I can think about is my dog” you shrug, it’s the same with bears and other animals too.

* “Also, it’s kinda disgusting to drink that blood straight out of the animal.”

* Draining the blood must have deducted something from the taste, you can’t imagine what that skunky revolting flavor would have been like if you were drinking straight from the animal.

* Edward laughs. It’s the first time he’s laughed around you, pearly white canines in full view, the skin at the corner of his eyes folds

* It’s cute, very boyish. You get what Bella was talking about now

* “You get used to it after a while” he shrugs

* You shake your head, no one should ever have to drink that crap

* “Here, try some of my blood” you say it like you’re offering him some cookies you made. You pick up one of the bags, still warm, and he quirks an eyebrow

* This isn’t the first time you’ve offered, usually he declines and rushes to leave

* One time it looked like he might say yes, but then he noticed Tanya and excused himself.

* He accepts the bag, holding it up with one hand

* “Do you pour it in a mug?”

* And so you and Edward sip your blood-Capri-suns in the kitchen that’s only now started to be used

* You sit in the counter cross legged, while he leans against the adjacent counter. Both of you silently sipping your meals.

* “This is really good” he finally says, his blood bag almost empty.

* “Who’d you have? I’ve been trying to add different veggies to their meal to see if it brings out a different flavour profile.”

* He had Henrietta, who you had been giving more citrus too. Partially for flavour, and partially because she’s your favourite

* “It kind of tastes like...fruit punch” Edward recalls after a prolonged minute.

* He seems so nostalgic, you wonder how long it’s been since he’s had human food

* “I think genetics have something to do with the flavour too, the breed from this region all seem to have a fruity aftertaste”

* “I’m partial to deer since they don’t have a strong game taste aftertaste.”

* “Yes! That part is the worst, it’s like eating a skunk” You scowl and he laughs again.

* You know he doesn’t belong to you, he’s Bella’s, in a few years she’ll be all he thinks or cares about.

* But maybe the two of you can be friends until then.

* All at once the moments broken, Edward stands a bit straighter, the smile on his face gone.

* You turn to look behind you to see Carmen.

* Her head is tilted to the side, a smile tugging on her lips

* “You both look like you’re having fun.”

* After that the conversation is pleasant, but it definitely stutters until Edward eventually leaves.

* “I think he likes you” You’re reading a book by the fire, the gentle heat is nice and it sets the mood.

* “What?”

* Carmen’s grinning

* “The Cullen boy is interested in you.”

* You just shake your head. You doubt it, Edwards only got a one track mind for one person. And it’s not you

* “It would be nice if we could be friends though, I don’t really know many other people my physical age.”

* Carmen stops mid-stitch on her embroidery hoop

* “Is that something you want? Because the Cullen’s have other’s your a-“

* “I don’t need you to set up play dates for me Carmen”

* “Understood”

* Edward comes by regularly, to help you with your animals. You’re both always under the (discrete) supervision of one of your guardians (excluding Tanya of course.)

* And with each visit you learn a little more about him

* You find out that right now he’s masquerading as a senior in high school, he’s considering going to college for veterinary sciences

* “Why veterinary sciences?” You wonder if he’s about to poach your best deer and start his own blood business when he shrugs

* “It’s one of the few degrees I don’t have”

* You’re drinking blood-Capri-suns out on the porch, he’s still in his school clothes, including a very puffy jacket

* “What were you going to do?” Your raise an eyebrow and he elaborates “before you turned, what were you plans for the future.”

* “I was on my graduation trip, I was going to college in the fall”

* You got accepted into your safety school with a generous scholarship.

* Edward doesn’t press any further. But you can tell that he wants too.

* Many nights go by, you experiment with you animals diets, have supervised hang-outs with Edward, you meet Carlisle every so often who basically gives you therapy and helps you control your emotions

* Life is good

* But your growing complacency with the situation is starting to bother you

* You haven’t forgotten about Alec and Jane who are still fighting so hard to survive, or the countless others who would prefer this way of life if they only knew

* You know the minute you start being content is the minute the world wins

* So every night -or really every so often, you’ve lost all perception of time, the nights in Alaska are totally fucked and these heathens don’t even have a damn clock. Your only really sign of time is the mail man dropping off amazon packages- you sit and dream

* You think about giving back to the community, about saving your friends, and about dethroning fucking Aro

* You’re only at the beginning now, there’s still so much work to do, but it’s a start

* You hear a noise and your eyes open

* If you had a beating heart it would stutter when it saw Edward standing beside your bed, your hand moves on it’s own through reflex, clutching your heart

* Under the circumstances you would expect someone else to laugh, but Edward just looks confused

* “Are you...sleeping?”

* “I like to pretend, it’s a nice way to end the day” he raises an eyebrow at that

* “It’s 4 in the afternoon”

* “Well damn Edward, we don’t have any clocks in this house, how am I supposed to know what time it is.”

* He does laugh at that

* “Is it...nice?”

* “Yeah, it’s pretty relaxing, kills some time too.” Noticing the curious look on his face, you ask:

* “Do you want to try?” You pat the space on the bed beside you.

* You’re fully expecting for Edward with his old fashioned virtues to deny your suggestion. So you’re surprised that after several long seconds of silence, and a rather pained look, he adheres to your request and lies next to you on your bed.

* It’s a king size bed, so he’s at least three Great Danes away from you, but the closeness still surprises you.

* “What do I do now?” He says, eyes closed.

* “Daydream, or fantasise I guess, about things that happened in your day, or things you wish happened, places you want to go and memories you wish you could relive”

* “What do you usually dream about?” He asks, eyes open now

* “I think about Jane,” the answer is automatic, and you regret it as soon as the words come out. But Edward’s expression doesn’t change so you continue. “I think about my deers and my family too.” Most of the time you’re just thinking about what animal you want to excitement with next tbh

* “And sometimes I think about you.”

* And how glad you are to have a friend

* Edward doesn’t say anything for a long time, and for a second you hope he hasn’t misunderstood your words, you know he’ll never feel that way about you. All of those romantic feelings are saved for Bella

* “Would you like to come to my house sometime?” The questions throws you off, and your expression illicit’s a laugh from him. “Emmett and Esme are dying to meet the newborn from the Denali coven”

* That’s probably true for Esme, you’re pretty sure Emmett just wants to have some physical match with the “Volturi-reject”

* “That sounds fun, sure.”

* Maybe they have a clock in their house you can steal

* Edward shows up the next day in his shiny white Volvo to pick you up.

* On either side of you on the front porch are Carmen and Kate with their most fierce expressions (and behind them is Eleazer who just looks like he’s along for the ride)

* “Where are you going?” Kate asks

* “Our home on the other side of the mountain, you’ve been there before” Edwards got a small smile curling in his lips, and an eyebrow raised.

* “What will you do?” Carmen asks

* “My family’s having a board game night, I think we’re playing monopoly”

* “What time will you bring them home?” Kate intervenes, man they’re not even pretending to be polite

* “Well it��s not a school night-“ Seeing his joke isn’t going to land, he rethinks his words midway

* “Whenever they tell me to.”

* You’re half expecting to get a curfew, even though this household seems to operate without the concept of time, when Eleazer interjects

* “Well be safe, and have a good time.” He slides a backpack up your shoulders. “I packed you some blood bags in case you get hungry, Henrietta’s since I know that’s your favourite.”

* He’s the only one waving as you get into Edward’s car

* The view as you drive is breath taking, the snow covered mountains, abs crisp green trees

* Edward laughs beside you, at your awestruck expression no doubt

* “You don’t get out much do you?”

* You have your nose practically pressed to the glass

* “Not at all.”

* The Cullen’s home is reminiscent of the one from the movies. All light, with glass everywhere. It’s like a aurora, all wavy with no true shape

* “Welcome to our home (Y/N)” Carlisle greats you first, and behind him is... Esme

* She’s not at all like the books or the movie

* She’s definitely not white, you can’t tell exactly what race, but she’s definitely a POC.

* Her caramel cheekbones seem even more prominent when she offers you a smile.

* “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’m Esme.”

* For some reason her being a POC, makes you feel more comfortable around her.

* Maybe you will ask her to draw up those plans for a proper barn.

* Edward stifles a laugh behind you, and you raise an eyebrow.

* “Emmett is dying to meet you upstairs.”

* You follow Edward up the stairs, finally meeting the family that spawned four books and a movie franchise.

* None of them look like they’re actor counterparts

* For one Emmett is black. And also really handsome, he’s got this Chadwick Boseman look alike thing going on and you’re down for it (RIP)

* Rosalie looks basically the way she was described in the books, all blonde hair and angel faced, but she’s the only one

* Alice is definitely Asian, she kinda looks like Lana Condor

* Jasper.... is ambiguously brown, but it still makes you let out a sigh of relief when you remember he was a Major in the CONFEDERATE army.

* More to the story than someone who was blatantly racist and supported slavery.

* They’re all beautiful, and they terrify you. You’re not exactly sure why, but something primal in you tells you to run away as fast as you can.

* But Edward lightly brushed the small of your back, pushing you forward. Right into the lions den.

* “Hello, I’m Rosalie”

* Looks like they picked her to be their spokesperson, all glittering smiles and flawless cheekbones. She extends her hand, and you lightly grasp it.

* “It’s nice to meet you.”

* It’s surreal to think how you know almost everything about this girl, while you two are virtually strangers

* Jasper introduces himself next, all smiles and quiet gentlemanly behavior.

* You’re not really sure what to expect with Alice, from what you know this girl has seen every future you could possibly have.

* Who knows what she saw

* But when she stands she hugs you

* “It’s good to see you!”

* “Alice, you haven’t introduced yourself”

* “Oh, right. I’m Alice”

* Emmett claps you on the back like you’re an old friend.

* “So, I heard you used to hang out with the sadist twins in the Volturi”

* You can practically feel the tension in the air, even Edward winces

* “They’re not so bad” really, what did anyone expect when they were in that environment

* Emmett grins

* “That’s bad ass”

* The rest of the night passes in a blur. The cullen’s game of monopoly includes some monstrous version where they put 8 different themed boards together and play in teams (You’re obviously on Edward and Alice’s team)

* They also have some sort of structure where they put four hotels together and called it a mega-hotel

* The whole thing blows up when Emmett accused Alice and Edward of using their powers to cheat

* “What do you want me to do, I can’t turn it off when I want Emmett, trust me I would especially when you and-“

* “Oh shut up Emmett, like we haven’t noticed Rosalie has an awful lot of $500 bills” Jasper interjects

* “It’s because you always pay me rent in small change!” She screams

* “Now-“ Carlisle tried to interject but Alice stands up

* “That’s a lie! I saw you steal from the bank several times when Esme wasn’t looking” Alice screams

* It goes on like this until Carlisle Declares the game over, and shoos everyone away.

* “Sorry, I would say it’s usually not like this, but I would be lying” Edward grins and you shrug

* “It was pretty fun and... entertaining in its own way” Edward beams at you, and once again, you definitely feel the dazzling effect Bella described in the movies

* “Should I... take you home now?” You can tell he doesn’t want to take you back yet, and if you’re being honest you don’t want to go back either

* The Cullen’s house has so much light, and you can see the stars so clearly here

* And if you’re being honest things seem to be way more entertaining here

* Edward takes you to a nook which houses a grand piano

* You’re fingers instinctively roam over the keys.

* “Do you play?”

* “Just a bit”

* You’re not the one who knew how to play, not really. But now this body is yours. You’ve thought about asking Carmen for a Piano, you’re sure they would love something that adds to the gothic feel of the mansion, but always cast it aside.

* You’re busy enough with your research.

* “Play me something” Edward grins.

* Alec had said the same thing to you when you were first taken by the Volturi, at the time your mind had raced wondering which piece would impress him the most. Which would aide in your survival.

* But looking at Edward now, you know that it’s not the same situation.

* He really does want you to play whatever your heart desires

* So you play “Love like you”, accompanied by your quiet voice reciting the lyrics

* At some point Edward sits beside you, playing in a deeper key, adding another layer of depth to your performance

* Wordlessly, afterwards he plays a piece of his own, Claire de Lune. Which you know is a remarkably hard piece.

* Still halfway you chime in, your super human fingers keeping up with him with ease

* And so it goes on like this, you play a modern song, waiting for him to catch up and he does the same with a classic

* Like a never ending game of cat and mouse

* It stops abruptly when Edward is in the middle of “moonlight sonata” when Alice clears her throat from behind you.

* “I hate to disturb,” there’s a teasing grin arched on her face. “But if you don’t drop them off, Carmen and Tanya are going to come over personally to retrieve them-“

* You see Edward wince, no doubt reviving Alice’s vision through his ability

* “And I don’t think anyone wants that.”

* You nod, moving to grab your backpack when you overhear Alice say-

* “You never let me play like that with you”

* Edward let’s out some sort of noise akin to a scoff

* “Where did you learn those songs?” He asks when you’re on the road

* Well you can’t tell him they’re from artists who aren’t known yet

* “Personal compositions” you murmur, and Edward grins his dazzling grin

* You talk about nothing but music until you pull into the familiar circle driveway of the manse

* Right when you’re about to thank him for a fun time, he gently stops you with a fleeting touch to your shoulder.

* “I’m graduating next month,” he hands you an envelope which you assume has his graduation card. “I was wondering if you would like to come to the ceremony.”

* You hold the card with both hands stunned, he’s already graduating high school?

* That means only 4 more years until he moves to Forks, and another two until he meets Bella

* And you realize that while time is frozen for both of you until the end of the universe, you’re the only one who isn’t moving forward

* “Yeah, I’d love that!”

* You try your best to smile, but your sure it comes off looking strange

* You don’t talk to anyone, heading straight for your bedroom

* What’s next for you?

#twilight #twilight reader insert #twilight headcanon #twilight imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #Rosalie hale #Jasper hale #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #twilight saga #twilight imagines #superhero—imagines

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emotions-ew · 3 years ago

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A Collection of Queer Country Artists and Songs for anyone who doesn’t feel like there’s country music they can relate to...

There is this idea that country music is like just Republican men singing about beer, and trucks and also Jesus, and that is kind of fair because loads of it is but there are some cool as hell queer/lgbtq+ country artists. Finding those and finding that representation in a genre of music I was literally raised on kind of changed my life in a tiny way and I wanted to share that.

(This is by no means a comprehensive list and also I’m basing the “Country” part of this sometimes on my subjective opinion/limited music knowledge so yuh please don’t hate me if I get some wrong)

Also link below for a Spotify playlist of my favourite gay/gayish country music, some mentioned in this post some not, (with a title that isn’t obviously gay for anyone who can’t openly listen to gay stuff on their public accounts for whatever reason) so feel free to skip the massive essay and just jump straight to that. And pretty please repost if I missed anyone/ any songs you love.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7KB6PmUxnpkU7lih8Bysvw

Artists To Follow:

Chely Wright

- Right off the bat, Chely Wright is a legend and I’m in love with her. So, in the 90′s Chely Wright was kind of a huge deal. She started her career as a singer/songwriter and released her first album in ‘94, which was critically acclaimed although never reached the commercial success of her later works. By ‘97 she was really hitting her stride, dropping her breakout hit “Shut up and Drive” (a personal favourite of mine) followed two years later by the biggest hit of her career “Single White Female”. Throughout all that Chely Wright was, to the world, a good old fashioned, heterosexual southern gal. Privately it was a bit of a different story. She had public relationships with male country artists, all while pursuing a secret decade long relationship with a woman.

I hadn’t ever really heard a Chely Wright song until a few years ago so I never knew about her music or career pre-coming out but I do know that even though by the time she came out in 2010 she was by no means at the height of her fame Chely Wright is kind of one of the biggest names in country music to be out and proud (in my opinion) and I love her like an insane amount. I literally play her music in my car when I have passengers just so I can be like “fun fact this singer is actually gay-” and then subject them to a lengthy explanation of her entire career. She came out with an album and a memoir and the album is my favourite of her work because it’s so fucking raw and because I relate to most of it immensely. Anyways Chely Wright went fucking through it in her journey to being her authentic self and now she’s out and proud and married to a woman and they have a family together and I’m a fucking sucker for a happy ending and y’all should add her to every playlist you have. And on top of that her music is genuinely good. Coming out undoubtedly damaged her career but I think that

Brandi Carlile

- As far as I can tell Brandi Carlile has been out her whole career. I feel like this list is just going to be me saying “I’m in love with her” about a bunch of women old enough to be my mother but in my defence, I am honestly in love with her. She’s been making music since she was like, seventeen, and has had a bunch of massive hits, as a singer, songwriter, and producer. If you want to cry kind of happy tears listen to her performance of “Bring my Flowers Now” with Tanya Tucker. She’s won Grammy’s and CMT awards and she’s done it all as an out Queer woman. She’s also a founding member of The Highwomen, an all-female country music group who released their first album in 2019, comprised of Carlile, Marren Morris, Natalie Hemby and Amanda Shires. I really love this band because they’re four artists who are immensely successfully in their own right collabing, much like the Highwaymen, and their music is phenomenal while also being a fuck you to mainstream country music and their inability to properly represent women in country music spaces.

She’s been married to a woman (smoking hot and also brilliant) since 2012 and they have two kids together and if you want to cry (again) then you have to listen to her song “Mother” about her eldest daughter. A queer country artist absolutely worth adding to all your playlists.

Brooke Eden

- As I understand it Eden came out publicly in January of this year. She’s engaged to Hilary Hoover, who she’s been dating since 2015 apparently. I can’t even imagine the pressure that must be on a person and how stressful it would be to keep a relationship secret from the whole world for years and personally I think they’re a cute as hell couple and I wish them literally all the happiness in the world.

Brooke Eden has a few older songs that I think are really good, my favourite being “Act Like You Don’t”, and while her new stuff isn’t my usual country vibe I am a sucker for literally anything gay and it is legally my gay duty to stream any song that she releases to support my fellow queer. It’s quite different to anything Wright or Carlile sing but I actually kind of love that because it shows that country music of all different shapes and sizes and styles can be sung by queer artists.

Amythyst Kiah

- Okay so I am a very new listener to Amythyst Kiah, but her music is literally so beautiful it would be a straight up sin to not include her on this list. Her music is country-blues-roots esq (more roots than country, I think?) and her voice is so unique. She grew up in Chattanooga and has been playing music since childhood. She recently made her Opry debut which is fucking awesome. She also belongs to a band called Our Native Daughters, described as “A supergroup of Black women in traditional music”. Their debut album “Songs of Our Native Daughters” did numbers and I haven’t listened to the whole thing but my favourite so far are “Black Myself” and “I Knew I Could Fly” so y’all add that to your playlists along with “Wild Turkey” by Amythyst Kiah because holy hell her voice on that will blow your mind.

Steve Grand

- The first man to make this list, he should frankly be honoured. Grand has been an out and proud gay man making country music since like 2013, and I have so much respect for an artist who chose to simply never be in, choosing instead to simply write gay ass songs about being in love with men and letting the chips fall where they man. His music is always going to have a special place in my heart and, he’s cute so if you’re into men and music by men give him a google. add him to your playlists, his All-American Boy album is literally just a dozen songs that are perfect to yell-sing along to.

Katie Pruitt

- Not hugely knowledgeable on Katie Pruitt but her music makes me feel crazy intense emotions and is absolutely gay

Honorable Mention Artists I haven’t Really Listened to But Who I Know to be gay thanks to google and might be your thing so totally check them out:

Brandy Clark

Ty Herndon

Shelly Fairchild

Lavendar Country

Trixie Mattel

Cameron Hawthorn

Drop any other names of artists or songs you know of

Specific Songs That Make Me Fucking Cry or (in good and bad ways (but always in a gay way)) or basically are just gay as hell:

If She Ever Leaves Me; The Highwomen

- So, this album came out about a week before my first (and only) girlfriend broke up with me. The general gist of the song is a woman singing about how her loved isn’t ever going to leave her but if she does it sure as hell won’t be for a creepy man in a bar. A little ironic that I felt I related to it so intensely, considering she did in fact leave me. There’s this one lyric that goes “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve lover here out loud/the sky hasn’t always been blue” and my girlfriend and I were crazy deep in the closet so I drew her a cute little picture of a grey cloud and on the back I wrote that lyric and I gave it to her and to me it was kind of a promise that one day I’d get a chance to love her out loud and even though I never actually did this song is forever going to make me cry because of the little bit of hope that lyric gave me and the way it’s inclusion on this overwhelmingly mainstream country album made me feel like acceptance was just that little bit closer.

All American Boy; Steve Grand

- Definitely one of the first gay country songs I ever heard, and Steve Grand didn’t once sacrifice a scrap of country for the gay. It’s beautiful, it’s a little sad, it’s hopeful. It’s forever going to hold a special place in my heart and the music videos is kind of one of my favourites ever. I found this song before I found myself and the way it made my heart warm should have been a stronger sign than I took it to be.

Like Me; Chely Wright

- When you love someone you kind of make it your mission to know them in a way that no one else can. This song by Chely Wright is sort of an ode to that, and how even once you lost someone, you’re still going to know every little thing about them. On top of that it sort of speaks to the idea that all these things Wright learned about this woman, she learned in secret and she knew her and loved her in secret and now that they’re gone from each other she’s left with all of this knowledge and all of these questions and no one to answer them. I love the way it’s so slow and the melody and her voice, the way it’s low and a little raspy, make this one of my favourite Chely Wright songs.

The Mother; Brandi Carlile

- Sorry but a song about being a mother by a queer woman is going to make me cry every time and actually I’m not that sorry. It’s quite a simple song, if any song written by Brandi Carlile can ever be described as ‘simple’, it’s an ode to her daughter. My favourite line is “you are not an accident/where no one thought it through” because it speaks to the fact that in order for queer women to have a kid together they have to want it so damn bad and also I just like the way her voice sounds on that line. This song is also the perfect thing to listen to if you ever for a second feel like being gay/queer is going to stand in the way of you having a family because it absolutely doesn’t have to and if that’s something you want, you can have it. Don’t let people try and convince you otherwise.

Loving Her; Katie Pruitt

- Unapologetic gay love. Opening a song with “If loving hers a sin, I don’t wanna go to heaven” is a fucking baller move and she went there. The lyrics are beautiful, and her voice is phenomenal. It could be a sad song, about confronting religious repression and grappling with what that means for your love, but instead its triumphant. Katie Pruitt doesn’t give a fuck if you have a problem because she’s going to write songs for her lover.

Jesus From Texas; Semler

- Not actually totally sure this is a country song, but it has the words ‘Jesus’ and ‘Texas’ in the title so I feel safe including it in this list. Honestly, I don’t really know why I relate so hard to this song. Like, I wasn’t really raised with religion, so I don’t know what it is about this funky little tune that makes me want to sob but there’s something about this tune that makes me want to do whatever the opposite of get up and dance is, but like, in a good way.

Lovin’ Again; Steve Grand

- Breakup song that ends kind of positively? So good to sing along to at high, high volumes. The idea that losing someone doesn’t have to mean losing yourself and just because you can’t love them doesn’t mean you’re not ever going to love again. But also kind of about how it’s hard to get over someone, I don’t know it’s just good.

Cryin’ These Cocksucking Tears; Lavender Country

- Jesus christ if this isn’t the coolest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. Sorry but a gay country group formed in 1972 who dropped possibly the first gay themed country album, and this was the title of one of the songs. God I am in love.

Songs that (to me) are a little fruity or that I just relate to in a gay way:

Picket Fences; Chely Wright

- Chely Wright is gay but this song came out long before she did and when she wrote it, it wasn’t supposed to be gay which is why it’s in this section and not the previous. The reason it’s included at all is because frankly ma’am, Mrs Wright, it’s a little fruity. And I feel a little bad for joking because honestly to me, the way I hear this song and knowing the context (that Wright was deeply closeted at the time she wrote and released it), it’s kind of just sad. The general gist of the song is Wright asking what’s so great about a traditional lifestyle anyways. It could be read as a woman genuinely questioning why we push that expectation that she’ll have two kids and a husband and a picket fence lifestyle, or even could be read as a woman who’s trying to deflect how much she does in fact want that, you have to listen and form your own opinion. But to me, it feels like a woman who’s desperately trying to justify why she doesn’t want that life not because she can’t have it, but she knows it will never be right for her. I don’t know it’s hard to explain I just feel like this song is a little bit gay even though I’m sure she didn’t intend that.

Sinning with You; Sam Hunt

- Sorry but this song is gay. Sorry but you can’t write the lines “I never felt like I was sinning with you/Always felt like I could talk to God in the morning” and “if it’s so wrong why did it feel so right” and “But I never felt shame, never felt sorry/Never felt guilty touching your body” and not to mention the opening line of “raised in the first pew/praises for yeshua/case of a small town repression”, and expect to not sit in my car sobbing as I realised that while I never felt like what we did was a sin she absolutely did, and wishing I could have told her that I was sorry for making her carry the weight of both our souls but also that it wasn’t a sin and nothing in the world could feel that good and be that bad and it isn’t right that she had to be so ashamed of something that was just so good. Sam Hunt actually said after he wrote the song that while it was reflection on his own relationship with faith he genuinely hopes that people in the lgbtq community can like find comfort or whatever in his words and like go off king, we stan an ally.

How do I Get There; Deana Carter

- This ones easy, it’s about falling in love with your best friend and suddenly realising you want more than just friendship with them. Sorry Deana, that’s gay. In my Deana Carter of like Year 10 I played this song on repeat and screamed along to the lyrics as though singing it hard enough would make her like me back.

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morkleemelon · 4 years ago

Text

off the ice || chapter 6: grab my hand

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x fem. college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, angst, sports au, college au

word count: 7.7k

warnings: swearing, suggestive material, depictions of bullying

author’s note: huge thanks again to my beta readers @writing-frog and @skiimmiilk I’ve made the executive decision to split up the last chapter since it was so long! Chapter 7, the finale, is done and will be posted in a few days <3

Distance. Distance isn’t a word you would use to describe your relationship as he pulls you close at night. There’s no distance between the two of you as he lifts you up in the air during your nightly practice, strong hands firmly gripping your waist as you dance across the empty rink.

No.

But if one were to look past your smile, to wipe away the condensation and see clearly what’s really going through your head when you were together with Mark, they might just name the dreadful feeling caving in your chest “distance”.

Weeks have passed by since the hate message incident in Mark’s room. You tried to pull out the arrow, to convince yourself it wasn’t true and that you could ignore it just like all the rest. Alas, its words struck so deep, you still bleed.

It poisons your thoughts. Your anxieties had already worsened and you found yourself pulling away from his affections, afraid of the way the people walking past might somehow be talking about you.

Mark is starting to have his suspicions too, flashing you concerned looks when you uncomfortably shrug his arm off your shoulders in public. To you, it’s because you’re scared of the ‘hateful’ stares from others. To him, it’s a riddle he can’t solve.

Because when it’s just the two of you, you let yourself relax. Like yin and yang, you fight an internal battle between how much you adore your boyfriend and how terrified you are that you aren’t good enough for him. When it’s just the two of you alone, you stop running and let him close the distance.

Right now is one of those rare times - the familiar cold and scraping of ice below your skates bringing you peace.

Mark glides easily beside you on the empty rink. He’s improved a lot, much to your astonishment. A golden boy through and through, he proves that there’s nothing he can’t do as he conquers each move you show him.

Coach Tanya was surprised when you spoke with her after practice one day to notify her that you’d decided to pair with Mark Lee, captain of the hockey team, for the winter competition. Her thin eyebrows were perked in playful judgement when you started to defend yourself, ready to bring up Yuna’s accident and your financial situation before she stopped you: “You’re my best skater, y/n, and I look forward to your performance. Work hard, captivate your audience, and you just might win”.

Watching Mark skate on ahead of you in the borrowed skates he makes do with, you can’t wait to prove her right.

“What are we going to practice tonight, y/n?,” Mark asks as he arcs a wide circle around you.

“I think you’ve gotten most of the basics down, so let’s go over the first part of the choreography,” you decide, grabbing onto his hand and giggling as he swings you around with him.

“We have choreography?,” Mark lifts your arm up to twirl you around. He stops you as you face him, a laugh leaving your lips before he smothers them with kisses. His fingers tickle at the hem of your shirt, cold to your bare skin. You squeal, the sound carrying eerily over the spacious rink.

“I thought about it a lot in my head,” you explain as you shove him away gaily, “and I planned a bit during my own practices. It’s not done yet, but I think we can make it work”.

“My talented, beautiful girl,” Mark murmurs, catching up to you and wrapping you in a back hug. You sigh blissfully, catching his warm lips in the crook of your neck.

“Mark, we seriously do have to practice. The festival’s only a month away,” you mumble. Some nights, let's just say, you spend more time in the locker room showers than you do on the ice. Using your best intuition, Mark’s lips travelling down towards your collarbones equals not a lot of practice time. And as much as you want for him to distract you all night long, you have to put your skate down and bring your boyfriend back to focus on the task at hand.

He huffs slightly against your skin, but releases you obediently.

“It’s gonna start like this,” you swiftly continue on, positioning your arm gracefully behind Mark’s head, “put your hand here,” you move his hand behind your back like you had planned, “and tilt your head to look at me,”. You tip his jaw slightly so he now peers down at you, face not inches from yours.

Dropping your gaze, you maintain what little self control you have and refrain from thinking about the locker room. It’s right by the rink exit. It’d be so easy to just...

“And then?,” Mark whispers, voice low, waiting patiently in the starting position. His hand is warm against your back, but it tugs at your heartstrings too.

“And then you’re gonna spin me out like we practiced before”. You help him perform the motion, unfurling yourself from his grip and gliding down to spin a slow circle around.

You bring him slowly through the rest of the introduction, Mark copying the moves diligently.

“Then when I skate back to you, lift me up in the air like we did last time. You think you can do it?,” you question. The move you’re about to attempt is quite difficult - a little dangerous, even, since Mark is still a beginner - but you trust him to never hurt you.

“I can do it,” he confirms confidently, holding his arms out to receive you.

“Okay, slow at first,” you nod, skating up to him at half-speed, grabbing onto his shoulders to help lift yourself above his head. Mark’s strong hands connect with your body, hoisting you up by your waist and balancing your body carefully above his. Muscles burning, you steady yourself as he twirls you slowly down.

“Alright, again,” you command.

The two of you repeat the move, steadily increasing the speed until the lift is smooth to your satisfaction.

“I think that was pretty good,” you compliment, slightly out of breath.

“Only because of you,” Mark endears, panting as he rests his chin atop your hair.

You sigh into his chest, the comforting feeling of his palpitating heartbeat washing over you.

If only it could always be like this.

“y/n?,” Mark mumbles. His tone was almost unsure, as if he was about to say something you don’t want to hear.

You hum an affirmation.

“Is everything okay these days?,” he asks the question you dread answering, “I know,” he continues before you can blurt out your default lie, “I know you keep saying that it is, but I feel like...you know you can tell me anything, right?”.

Mark changes his phrasing midway, always taking your feelings into consideration. The all too familiar wave of guilt fills you up to your ears and you step slightly away. The stadium is dim, only lit by the natural light of the night sky, but you can see the concern that creases his face out in your peripheral vision.

Your eyes focus instead on his jacket button. The second from the top has a few loose threads.

And that’s just how you feel too; the button was made for this coat - it wants to hang on and be there forever. But how could it persist when the world wants to rip it off?

“It’s nothing,” you insist bitterly, your peaceful mood tainted gray. You were so close to successfully ending another day without confronting your demons. Why must Mark sense it so well?

Please stop, Mark. Please stop.

“I don’t think it’s nothing”. There’s nothing but kindness and concern in his voice, but when he reaches his hand out to you, fear overcomes your rationality and you jerk yourself away.

“It is nothing!,” you exclaim, overly defensive. Half of your mind screams at you to halt, to filter your words before you say something you would regret, but the fuse was already lit and they come tumbling out anyway. “Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying,”.

A beat passes. Two. Five.

The sharp words tear through your mouth like knives, but even then you can’t stop to think. The energy in the rink changed so quickly, your head spins with shock. Turning away from the pained expression you don’t want to see, you skate quickly towards the exit.

The ice is solid as ever, but why does it feel like you’re sinking?

Slamming the dormitory door shut behind you, your skating bag hits the floor before you do. Back pressed against the concrete wall, shaking sobs rack through your body as you sink down to your feet.

“y/n, what happened?,” Yuna peers over her computer screen. Your roommate had finally returned home a few days ago after her leg had finally healed enough to be discharged.

You don’t answer, only burying your teary face into your arms as you cry harder.

The metallic creaking of crutches ensues as Yuna approaches your slumped form. A comforting embrace wraps around your shaking shoulders and the smell of her daisy perfume engulfs you. Her scarred hands stroke through your hair as she says nothing, waiting for your hiccups to calm down.

Guilt eats away at you like nitric acid. It mixes with your frustration, concocting a perfect poison that destroys your last thread of self-respect.

“Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying”

The hurtful words don’t stop echoing in your head. What’s worse is, even though you didn’t stay to look, you can imagine the pain that crossed his face as you left without another word. You feel absolutely disgusting.

This is it. He’s finally going to be done with me.

Moments pass, Yuna sitting patiently by your side as you manage to find your voice. The dam you built around all your secret cracks, disintegrating to pieces as you let everything out to your best friend.

You tell her about all of the hate messages you’ve been getting for months now - how you tried to ignore them, but some of them hit too way deep to forget. You tell her about the dilemma with Mark. He’s never done any wrong to you, ever, but you feel like you can’t keep forcing your problems on him. When you confided in your financial situation with him, he dropped everything to help you with the competition. You at least want to be able to handle one thing by yourself, to not be a burden, but it’s tearing you apart at the seams.

“I don’t deserve him and he’s going to realize it sooner or later,” you lament, gripping onto Yuna’s arms for dear life. Gasping sobs ensue, even as you hold your breath desperately to stop them. “He’s probably already realized it after what I said. Yuna, what do I do? I’m horrible”. Bitter tears choke at your throat.

“Oh honey,” Yuna coos into your hair, “you don’t even know, do you?”.

Hiccupping uncontrollably, you take gasping breaths, trying to calm down. Your roommate understands, patting you gently on the back.

“When you’re in a relationship with someone, the line between having enough communication and enough privacy is tough to figure out. Should you tell him about the lint between your toes? Maybe not. But talking to him about what’s bothering you is not only okay, it’s the right thing to do”.

Yuna lifts your chin up to face her. She looks empathetically down at your watery eyes as she takes her sleeve to dry the fallen tears. You press your eyelids shut, taking deep breaths punctuated by hiccups.

“And Mark,” she continues, “this guy, he looks at you like you’re all the stars in the sky and he’s the first astronomer. There’s not a thing you could tell him that would bother him, that’s what I think. And I think he’s dying to know how he can help you”.

“Yuna I- you don’t understand. I just left him there after saying that. And I can’t even go on a date with him without feeling like people are talking about us,” you gasp out, “So the person sending the messages is right; I’m not good enough for him and he deserves someone way better than me. Maybe this is for the better”.

“y/n, don’t you see?,” Yuna snaps sternly. You open your eyes. They’re pink-red, matching the tip of your nose. “You’re letting other people ruin a once-in-a-lifetime relationship for you. Do you know what happens when you leave to go to the bathroom when we’re all hanging out? Mark’s looking towards the women’s room every two seconds, waiting for you to come back. This guy will manage to find a way to bring up your name at least twice in the five minutes you’re away. He likes you so much, anyone with a brain knows, so it’s not fair to him for you to tell him what, or who he deserves. At least let him make his own decision”.

The advice resonates in the air. Your hiccups calm to a sniffle as it sinks in. Yuna’s right, you’re being so selfish right now. Actually, you’ve been selfish this whole time. By forcing everything to yourself, you were creating an even bigger problem than any of the ones you were trying to hide.

“Yuna, what do I do now?,” you whisper, dread setting in.

“Girl, go talk to him. Now.”

You must look a mess, but you don’t bother fixing yourself up before you’re out the door.

Yuna sends you off with a ‘good luck!’ as you run down the corridor. Rushing down the metal stairs, your frenzied steps echo through the empty stairwell. They sound as desperate as you feel.

Oh god, please let it not be too late.

Once you reach the first floor entrance, you notice through the glass door that it is now, in fact, pouring rain. You were too distracted before to notice the heavy sounds of precipitation pelting down over you.

Hands shaking to send Mark a message, you tell him you need to talk and you’re coming to him. You have no umbrella, but you push open the door anyways. The freezing rain soaks into your skin but you run on, unfazed.

You’re drenched and shivering by the time you stand panting in front of his building. Dying street lights illuminate against the dark, night sky. Waiting, the rain stings your eyes.

Through the blur, Mark’s figure finally appears at the door window. You can’t quite make out his face, but you know it’s him. The metal frame creaks as he pushes it open.

“y/n, what are you doing?”. His voice is raspy and as he comes closer into view. You notice that his eyes are pink-red, matching the tip of his nose.

“I have to talk to you,” you state, voice wavering as fresh tears mix with the ice-cold precipitation. Mustering up all the courage you have, you ready yourself to tell him everything you’ve been holding back.

“Let’s go inside”. His voice is soft as he tugs at your drenched jacket sleeve.

“No I-,” you choke, “I want to say it right now”.

The rain bears down hard as he lets go of your sleeve, allowing the frigid water to soak through his own self, waiting.

“You asked me if something was wrong,” your resolve comes crashing down, “and a lot has been wrong”. You squeeze your eyes shut to force out the unwanted raindrops. “The truth is, I’ve been getting hate messages every day since we started dating. Probably even before that. They say I’m a slut, or I’m fat and ugly. The details don’t matter”.

Mark takes a step towards you, the concerned expression creasing his brow in full view.

“But then they say I’m not good enough for you,” your voice breaks as you admit the most painful part of all, blinking up at him, “and I can’t help but believe them”.

Futily, you swipe your drenched sleeve across your eyes to dry them.

“But even if I don’t deserve anything that you are, I need to tell you right now that I didn’t mean what I said today and I need to know if you still want me-”

Before the next raindrop could hit your skin, you feel yourself lifted up into a crushing hug.

There’s no sound except the heavy pitter patter of rain around you, but you can swear that there’s a symphony playing as he spins you around. His breath huffs against your neck. He’s crying too, you realize.

“y/n,” he croaks, body quivering with tears and from the cold, “I always want you. I-, you-”. Mark pulls you in extra tight as he struggles to find the right words.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” the words strain against Mark’s throat, “when I first saw you, I dropped my shit and ran away”.

You pull slightly away, looking up at him quizzically.

He shakes his head and continues, “You were so beautiful and even when I thought you hated me, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all the time. I don’t want anyone else-”.

Grabbing your face with both of his hands, he presses desperate kisses to your forehead. The rain bears down hard, lightning cracking in the sky, but you’re numb to everything else except the feeling of his lips pressing their love onto your skin.

“You’re it for me,” his voice wavers. The vulnerable confession sends you into a fresh wave of emotions and you grip onto the back of his neck, crying into his shoulder. “You’re my heart. I knew it from the first moment I saw you”.

Pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes, he brushes back the wet strands of hair stuck to your face. You’re tempted to do the same, the once golden locks now almost black against his brow.

“I love you”.

The words leave his lips so suddenly, but they’ve been at the tip of his tongue for so long they roll off with ease. Your heart drums against your chest as time seems to stop.

“You love me?” you choke, not believing your ears. His forehead is pressed against yours.

“I love you,” he repeats, “I love you. More than anything. So much that I can’t breathe. I was so scared when you left today because I thought I did something wrong and I was thinking of what I said and I was sitting at my desk waiting for you to call because I wasn’t sure if I should call you first after what happened but then I almost did and then-,”

You shut him up with your lips.

He sinks into your touch, responding naturally as you kiss him with everything you have.

Your mind spins with a mixture of relief and excitement as you let all of your worries go. It was never about other people, you realize, it was about your own insecurities and you were tearing yourself down. Without realizing it, you forgot to take into account the other half of the relationship: Mark’s opinion.

But now you know for sure, the opinion that actually matters, not the anonymous person who doesn’t know better. He loves you. It’s you he’s chosen. Out of all of the people he could pick from, Mark holds you in his arms, whispering soft ‘I love you’s’ between each kiss. Kisses to your lips.

How could you ever want him to be with someone else when you’re the one he wants?

“I love you too,” you reply breathlessly into his open kiss.

We deserve to be happy.

He doesn’t say anything, instead responding by tugging your waist closer to him, moving his jaw feverishly to indulge you deeper. Water drips down from his hair, splashing onto the bridge of your nose.

“Let’s go inside,” you gasp. The heat of the moment made you temporarily forget, but the icy November weather slowly started to soak past your jacket. You shiver as a strong gust of wind blows past your drenched body.

Mark leads you inside and you hustle up to his suite. His hand is warm against your wrist and you can’t wait for it to be tangled in your hair again.

Slamming open the door, Mark’s arms are around your waist before it could drift shut. You jump up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carries you to his room, lips never leaving yours.

Jeno, unsuspecting, is lying on his bed with a book in his hands. If your eyes were open, you would flush at the incredulous look the poor boy shoots towards you.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend works at your jacket zipper quickly, removing the wet outer layers as he sits you on his bed.

Pausing a second, he turns his head to speak to his roommate.

“Out”.

You don’t have time to feel embarrassed before Mark’s jacket is on the floor and he’s lying you back, hovering over your body. The bedroom door rams shut as Jeno scurries out, not keen on seeing the scene progress any further.

I’m sorry, man.

Your mental apology doesn’t last long as your wet hair soaks into the pillowcase beneath you. Mark kisses a line from your jaw down the side of your neck, raindrops wet on his tongue. The heat of his body contrasts the cold of yours and you want all of it against you.

Rain-stained articles of clothing gather on the floor in no time.

“God, I love you so much,” Mark hushes against your ear. His gruff tone sends shivers down your back and you scratch your nails through the base of his hair. Your legs find their way around his hips again, pulling him down impossibly closer.

“I love you too,” you gasp back.

He kisses between your collarbones, then looks back into your eyes, “do you want this?”.

You nod frantically, your voice nothing short of breathless. “I want this”.

Peace you haven’t been able to feel for a long time blankets you as you lie on your lover’s chest, the two of you fresh out of breath. Such a revelation- him telling you he loved you was. And you want to savor the feeling forever.

It feels as if there was a thorn lodged in your heart, festering for months from your terrible, insecure thoughts and you’ve finally yanked it out. It feels like you can finally breathe.

Well, metaphorically. Physically, you may need a few minutes.

Mark’s hair sticks up in every direction, frizzy from being half-dried and from your constant tugging. Nonetheless, he looks beautiful to you in the dim, lamp-lit room. His chest rises and falls in your embrace and your fingers work to delicately trace the toned muscles of his torso. Mimicking your movements, he grazes his thumbs over the blue-purple masterpiece he’s painted across your neck and chest.

“Good?,” he asks nonchalantly.

You let out a soft snort at the sudden question.

Men will always be men.

“Great,” you admit. Heat creeps into your face as you recall the last hour or so.

You guess there’s more benefits of hockey than just the uniform: the stamina and athleticism.

His inflated ego fills the room palpably as he shifts in the messy bed, tugging the covers more over your tangled bodies. Noises arise from the kitchen, probably from his other suitemates. Embarrassment fills you to the brim when you realize that everyone probably heard the two of you. You were far too busy caught up in your passionate feelings to consider this, and now it’s come back to bite.

Huffing shyly, you hide your growing blush into the nape of your boyfriend’s neck. Clanging of kitchenware resonates clearly through the room’s thin walls. You can’t help but distress over how clearly the others could hear you. And for such a long time too.

Oh my gosh. How will I ever face them?

Mark seems to sense your thoughts and lets out a light chuckle.

“Babe, we’re fine. They all hookup all the time. And Yuna-,”

“I don’t need to know, thank you,” you interrupt sharply. Squeezing your eyes shut, you fight off the disturbing imagery.

Ten’s voice drifts through the suite and the sound of the front door shutting rings through them with unnerving vigor. You jolt at the bang, stiffly turning your neck towards the locked bedroom door, as if it would reveal any answers. Mark looks at you, the confused expression on his face making it apparent that he doesn’t know what is happening either. Slowly, he shifts up into a sitting position.

“You’re fucking kidding me - it was that bitch?”. The senior boy’s voice cuts through the nighttime quiet abruptly. Struggling to stitch together the context of the overheard conversation, you force your sore body to sit up as well. From how it sounds, it seems like Ten is on a phone call.

You look at your boyfriend for confirmation. With a nod, the two of you mutually agree to silently withdraw from the comfort of the covers and get dressed.

“I don’t - listen to me, do they know for sure?,” Ten asks anxiously from the other side of the door.

With increasing concern, you hastily pick up your wet, discarded clothing. The cold, uncomfortable sensation makes you wince. Mark grabs your wrist, preventing you from putting on the still-soaked yoga pants. Shaking his head, he takes the garment and tosses it over his desk chair. From his dresser, he hands you a dry set of his own clothing.

The gesture makes you smile and you gratefully pull on the warm sweats and hoodie. They’re obscenely large for your frame, but it’s a sure upgrade from your sad, rain-ruined outfit. Mark ruffles your hair, cheeks like strawberries as he kneels down without a word to roll up your pants.

A small giggle escapes your lips. He’s just seen you naked, but of course it’s this that gets him blushing.

The happy expression is quickly wiped off your face as Ten continues abruptly, anger apparent in his voice.

“Fucking hell! Hillary Choi? The bitch even admitted to it?”. The senior captain’s voice is nothing less than a yell now. Mark’s mouth hangs open in shock as he stares towards the door. The concern and shock shining in his eyes allude to how uncharacteristic his friend’s behavior is.

“Hillary Choi…,” you mutter under your breath, the name ever so familiar to your ears.

“Wait she’s…,” Mark turns his gaze to you carefully, silently confirming his correct assumption.

“She’s the one who hates me…,” you confirm bitterly with a nod.

Mark stands up, grabbing both your hands as you sit back on his bed. His expression is sad, perhaps also peppered with anger - something you’ve never seen in your boyfriend. Gently, he tugs you to your feet.

As you push the bedroom door open slightly, the common room comes into view. Ten’s figure is hunched over the kitchen sink, listening intently to the person on the other side of the phone speak. His breathing is rushed - you’ve only ever seen him this mad the day Yuna entered the hospital.

Then it all makes sense.

Opening the door fully, you reveal Jeno and Haechan sitting on the common room couch. You make eye contact with them as you and Mark stand at the doorway, listening. Their expressions tell that they’re equally as concerned as you.

Mark’s hand in yours, you tiptoe your way to join the two friends on the sofa.

“The fucking psycho bitch,” Ten spits. His hands run furiously through his raven hair as he begins pacing around. The senior sees all of you gathered together, but makes no move to acknowledge any of you other than a hard stare.

The tension is suffocating. Everyone wants to say something, but the waters seem too rough to test. Anxious glances are exchanged, but not a word leaves any of your mouths as Ten continues pacing around, the other speaker on the phone relaying more information. You conclude to wait until the call is over before you try to ask.

“Okay so she’s at the police station right now? ”.

Mark’s hand squeezes yours in silent shock.

“Okay… fuck,” Ten rubs tiredly at the bridge of his nose, “alright okay, thank you, officer. I- yeah I’m okay, thank you. Tell Yuna I’m on my way now”.

A moment of silence suspends heavily over the air as he hangs up the call. The breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes in relief as Haechan clears his throat awkwardly and takes one for the team.

“Uh…,” the sophomore calculates for a bit, eyeing the enraged senior carefully, “Ten, what’s going on?”.

For the first time ever, it seems, the mischievous boy’s voice rid itself of its usual snide tone, replaced by refreshing sincerity.

Ten sets down his hand, revealing tears building up in his previously covered eyes. Jeno doesn’t waste a second, getting off the couch without a word and wrapping his arms around his crying friend.

You hesitate before asking, “It’s Yuna’s case?”. Keeping your voice as steady as possible, you hope you’ve succeeded in masking your growing fear.

Ten sniffs, patting Jeno’s back, prompting the younger to let go. Wiping away the stray tears, he nods. Everyone waits patiently as the distraught senior calms himself down with deep breaths.

“They caught the person who tried to kill her- or is it people? I don’t even know. And yes - they tried to kill her,” Ten rubs a stressed finger between his brow, “It was Hillary Choi, some junior girl who’s obsessed with Mark - she’s in our fanclub or whatever. They said she confessed it was all part of a plan? I don’t- I don’t know,” his voice breaks off as he tugs at his hair before heading over to grab his keys.

“Wait, I don’t understand. If she’s obsessed with me why would she go try to hurt Yuna?,” Mark’s voice rings with alarm. A sinking feeling of dread sits in your stomach like a block of cement.

“It’s-,” Ten huffs into his hands, “let’s go to the station first and the bitch can tell you herself, she’s there apparently. Yuna is too. I don’t want to keep Yuna waiting there alone any longer so let’s go”.

The drive is silent, save the rumbling of the pavement below the car’s tires. Mark’s hand grips yours like a vice, but you don’t say anything. In fact, it kind of keeps you grounded as your anxiety goes through the roof. You’re no Sherlock, but hearing news that a girl who’s obsessed with your boyfriend (as has been sending you hate messages for months, no less) tried to kill your best friend, almost succeeding, bodes terribly for you.

It had stopped raining a while ago and the five of you hurry your way through the fresh puddles dotting the police station lot.

“Yuna?,” Ten calls out as the glass doors slide open.

“Here,” a weak reply voices from behind a partition.

Rushing over, you see that Yuna’s usual perfect composition is instead worn-down: her platinum blonde hair falls limply down her shoulders and her face is gaunt with distress.

You had just seen her a few hours ago and she was even the one comforting you then. But now it’s your turn as you carefully kneel down beside her chair and pull her instinctively into a hug.

“Officer, can you please tell us what’s going on?,” Mark stops a nearby woman in uniform.

“You’re all friends of Ms. Kim?,” she inquires, continuing as a chorus of confirmations fills the room, “Okay, just a second”.

The woman appears visibly tired, probably pulled out of bed at an ungodly hour to cover this shift. Taking a long sip of her coffee, the white curls of steam prance around the air as you itch for answers. Setting the hot beverage down on the desk beside her, she straightens her badge. ‘Detective Jeong’, it reads.

“We have a confession,” Jeong relays finally, “earlier today- or yesterday, I should say- we received a call from our traffic security team detailing that they spotted the same model of car as the one thought to be involved with the accident on September 15th the uh-,” she stops to check her clipboard, “black 2018 Audi A4. We issued a warrant to interrogate the driver as quickly as possible, although not much was needed since the perpetrator, Miss Hillary Choi, confessed to the hit and run almost immediately”.

You hug Yuna tighter, Ten embracing from her other side.

“You have the confession, did she say why?,” Jeno asks sternly.

“This is where it gets slightly more complicated and I want to ask, is a Miss y/n here?”.

The mention of your name makes you perk up, surprised.

“That’s me,” you stand up slowly, “why?”.

Mark places a hand at the small of your back in concern.

“y/n…,” Yuna sobs softly, gripping your arm. A thousand thoughts run through your head as your struggle to understand what is happening.

“Yes?,” you brush the fallen strands of hair behind her ear.

“I want her to say it,” Yuna directs, speaking to the detective now.

“Now we do have Miss Choi in our custody right now, but you’ll have to move back into the interrogation room if you wish to speak with her, for safety reasons”.

You nod, helping Yuna onto her crutches as everyone moves towards the back of the station. It feels as if you’re dreaming, that reality has separated itself into a different plane than the one you’re in and your existence has become but a construct. Your legs move on autopilot while your eyes are fixed ahead, but not really looking at anything in particular.

The room you enter is dark and stuffy. Even with Haechan and Jeno opting to wait outside, it is far too crowded for the four of you. The room is divided into two; the other side is fully visible but unreachable due to a large plexiglass window in between. It’s eerily isolating. Yuna is ushered onto the only fold-up chair on your side of the room.

As the late-night officers go to bring Hillary in, the apprehension in the air is thick enough to be spread on your breakfast toast. The only comfort that comes to you is Mark’s arms wrapped around your waist. It’s the only thing that you can make sense of right now.

The door on the opposite side slams open suddenly, drawing a sharp gasp from you. Mark’s fingers curl protectively into your hoodie as Hillary enters.

It’s surreal. This woman - handcuffs and all - carries a plain, calm expression as she sits down casually in her own fold-up chair. You hadn’t seen her in a while, but her beady-eyed gaze is as intense as ever. The red streaks in her hair are outgrown, falling awkwardly around the bright orange of her jumpsuit.

“What’s up?,” Hillary asks, tone cool as if she were not being held for attempted murder at the moment. Her dark eyes settle on you, the arms around your waist, then back to you. Hillary’s stoic face is unreadable, yet it sends chills down your spine like a thousand spiders.

“What’s up? You absolute psycho bitch-,” Ten rails, banging on the glass barrier with a clenched fist. He pulls back as the officer gives him a warning. Yuna pulls him back to calm him down.

Your eyes don’t leave hers. They’re a dark brown, almost black, and you find yourself sinking into them - pulled into them like they’re black holes of concentrated hatred.

Closing your eyes, you pull your mind back to yourself.

For months on end, you’ve been the recipient of her constant torment. It not only affected your mental health, but almost cost you the relationship of a lifetime. This whole time, you’ve been afraid of her words, letting them eat away at your dignity from inside out until you were nearly gone.

But if you had the weapon of confidence - if you had simply chosen to stand up and reply, to say ‘no, you’re wrong’, her arrows would have fallen limp to the ground and she couldn’t have hurt you. Hurt your friend.

You open your eyes, this time staring back hard. Hillary’s expression is unfazed, but you imagine she’s surprised at your change in mentality.

“Tell me everything,” you demand firmly.

Hillary scoffs, as if the situation is amusing.

“Fuck you, tell us everything,” Ten hisses.

Hillary rolls her eyes. “Fine. Only because she wouldn’t want me to be mean to you, Ten”.

“Who?,” you ask rigidly.

“I’ll get to that, bitch,” she sneers.

“Hey, don’t call her that,” Mark warns.

The psychopath in orange laughs maniacally, though you can’t place your finger on what she finds funny.

“Funny,” she gasps for breath, slapping her knees vigorously, “funny how now you talk to me!”.

“She’s nuts,” Yuna states.

“The whole damn Planters factory,” you agree.

“You people wouldn’t know a thing!,” Hillary fires, pointing an accusing finger around the room. Her face is red from her laughing fit, almost as red as her disgruntled bangs. Eyes now glistening with rage, you press back into Mark’s embrace when her personality flips 180 degrees in under a second. “You don’t know anything!,” she screams, “You don’t know! You don’t know!”.

The four of you watch in shock as Hillary melts down, the guard coming up and restraining her to the chair. She’s thrashing around, chanting the phrase over and over again.

“You’ll never know how much I love you, Mark,” Hillary shrieks, smiling hauntingly as she’s forced back into the chair and cuffed to it, “and you’ll never know how much she loves you, Ten”.

“What the fuck?,” Ten rightfully shouts.

“Tell us who!,” you raise your voice.

“I’m getting there, b-,” she stops in the middle of the slur, glancing at your boyfriend. In the blink of an eye, her expression jumps from pure disdain to sickly sweet, “baby”.

Anger flushes through your body. Wanting to provoke her a little, you turn your gaze to your boyfriend. Predictably, he immediately turns his full attention to you. A scrunch of his brow asks you if you’re okay.

“Did you enjoy them?,” Hillary’s voice is ‘normal’ again as she asks the out-of-context question.

“What?,” Ten pries, unamused.

“Did you,” she points her finger directly at you, “enjoy my messages?”.

Oh boy, oh boy. I was waiting for you to ask that.

The words rush to your mouth, every comeback you’ve ever made manifesting into the pinnacle of all comebacks, “As a matter of fact, I did,” you smile brightly, “I especially enjoyed the one’s where you said Mark doesn’t love me and doesn’t want me. I like to think of the irony of it all when we’re sleeping together and he gives me these”.

You tug down the collar of your hoodie (that’s actually his which makes it even better) to reveal the hickies blooming down your neck. “If only you could know how good it feels, but you’re undoubtedly alone”.

Yuna snickers beside you, but Mark’s signature laugh shamelessly fills the limited space around you. The mood of the room changes completely at your words, the seriousness dissipating like sugar in hot water. It’s so refreshing, the feeling of being in control of yourself. Hillary, the person you used to be so afraid of looks so small in her isolation. There’s nothing to her at all, now that you know to stand up for yourself. You’ve never felt so… powerful.

In any other situation, you would have died in embarrassment from sharing personal information like that, but you’re on a roll. And it’s bitch ass Hillary we’re talking about here. Even Ten looks mildly impressed by your new attitude, a tiny smile quirked on his lips.

“You-,” Hillary pouts, “how could you, Mark, how could you do this to me? You and I both know we loved each other first. We still love each other”.

“I have literally no idea what you mean,” Mark emphasizes, moving his hands to grip your shoulders, “you need some serious help, man”.

“I’ll fucking kill you!,” she screams at you again.

“No you won’t,” you chuckle, “you’re locked up! At this point it’s a little amusing.

“You wanna know what the plan was? Me and Seojung were gonna kill you both. I take the bitch that’s dating Ten and she takes the slut who took Mark from me. I got so close, following you, blondie, to the party, but you just had to live-”

“The fuck did you just say?”

“Sick psycho oh my god”

“Yeah good luck doing that from prison, asshole”

The room erupts in replies that cut her off.

“Alright, time’s up,” the guard announces. The door on your side of the room opens, a gust of cool air welcoming you as Detective Jeong appears to usher you out. Turning around to give Hillary one last word as the officer drags her back to her cell, you’re not surprised to meet her menacing eyes.

“He loves me,” you state confidently, “and he always will. Enjoy hell”.

With that, the door shuts behind her and the worst chapter of your life dots its last concluding period. It’s the last one that you’ll let someone else write for you. You’re more than ready to pick up the pen and turn the next page. Excitedly, you head out to your friends waiting on you outside.

“Don’t worry, we’ve monitored that whole conversation and everything will be used against her in court,” Jeong assures, “Miss y/n, you might remember Choi mentioned a ‘Seojung’ and we want to make sure you know that she has been detained and held at the Gangnam Police Station. We’re waiting on her statement, but if what Choi testified is true, we’re looking at life in prison for both parties”.

“Not death?,” Ten scoffs.

“Not death, no,” the detective shakes her head.

“So basically, they’re both insane. And they did all this because they thought Ten and Mark belonged to them,” Haechan follows slowly, having just been filled in.

“We gotta put an end to this fanclub shit. Why are our lives controlled by these freaks,” Jeno groans.

He’s right. He’s so right. The whole thing is disgusting, especially when none of the Lee’s ever asked for it to be formed. If it’s already gotten to the point where members are caught in homicidal attempts, there’s no way the Lovelees club can continue to exist.

The station is nearly empty now, almost all of the officers handling the case calling it a night and heading home. Not wanting to keep Detective Jeong any longer, the six of you head out to the car. It’s nearly four in the morning and the adrenaline is wearing off, exhaustion replacing it.

“Hey but y/n, you were so good in there,” Yuna smiles, bumping you with her shoulder as you walk through the parking lot. The night air is cold against your skin, filled with the scent of petrichor.

“Yeah, you,” Mark looks at you with doe eyes, arm slung around your shoulders.

Letting out a short laugh, you press your lips quickly to his cheek.

“And I’m assuming based on how this looks, the conversation went well?,” Yuna adds.

“Only thanks to you,” you appreciate, turning from your best friend to Mark, “I think we’re all good now”.

Mark beams at you as Ten unlocks his car, bringing you in for an elated kiss.

Groans erupt from all around.

“You’ve seriously been going at it all night, none of us have gotten any sleep,” Haechan whines loudly.

“Bruh,” says Jeno.

“Then get yourself a girlfriend, fatass, I don’t know what to say,” Mark retaliates.

You reluctantly pull away as everyone piles into the vehicle. Haechan, you don’t feel bad for. He could cry and pout all day and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Jeno, is a different story.

Memories of earlier cause your fingers to curl up in cringe; the way he was minding his own business in his own room only to be caught in the middle of your… make-up methods.

“Hey…,” you apologize as you cram into the seat next to him, “I’m uh- I’m sorry about earlier”.

“I don’t want to talk about it”. The blue-haired boy massages the crease between his brows, stressed.

“Right okay,” you nod.

“Not to ruin the mood, but are you okay y/n? I feel like we’re moving too fast past what you’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I mean… I just want to make sure I’m not in the dark about your feelings again,” Mark asks softly.

Silence falls upon the car as the group awaits your answer. You look to the passenger seat, to Yuna, as Ten cruises down the city street.

“I’ll never forgive her,” you finally admit, “either one of them. They can literally rot in hell for all I care. But for me, I’m okay. If anything, this whole thing has taught me a lot and I’ve grown a lot from it. Both of them are locked up, so I’m not scared anymore. Oddly, I feel really free”.

Packed into a tiny car, cruising down the streets of Seoul, you admire the friends around you. You’re surrounded by love. Your best friend and the love of her life. Your soulmate and his two best friends (who have become like family to you). Back on campus, Hope and Lisa sleep away, unaware of the chaos of today. You can imagine the looks on their faces as Yuna and you fill them in. Irreplaceable, every one of them.

Life is full of way too many amazing things for any number of crazy bitches to ruin. Just as your friends have become irreplaceable to you, you are irreplaceable to them too. It’s due time that you give some credit to yourself.

I am truly confident. I am worthy. I am loved.

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pretendingboyfriends · 4 years ago

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A/N: holy SHIT u guys the way i absolutely LOVE how this turned out,,,,, i REALLY hope u guys love it as much as i do and pls pls pls don’t be afraid to tell me ur favorite parts or give me suggestions for the next part!! and thank u miss tanya @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this part!!! ily mwah<3

Warnings: some explicit language & slight sexual innuendos

Word count: 5.9k+

fic masterlist

You gaze out into the crystal blue ocean as you drive along the beachfront, car window ajar allowing the salty, warm breeze to kiss your skin gently. The sun glimmers brightly in the sky, not a single cloud in sight and you feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong.

Deidre invited you on this beach trip as a last minute getaway. She knew you’d been having a bit of a hard time with your mental health recently, so she decided to rent a beach house for the two of you to try and help you get out of your “funk” as she called it. Two weeks of relaxation with nothing to worry about. Just lounging around in the warm sun with your best friend for 14 days. You simply couldn’t say no.

Seeing as Deidre has been your best friend for the majority of your lifetime, trips like these aren’t uncommon in the slightest. In fact, you’ve been on so many vacations with her and her family that you can’t even fathom going somewhere like this without her.

“Do you wanna stop and grab something to eat before we get to the house?” The sound of her voice draws you from your almost dazed state and you turn to look at her as she drives. Immediately at the mention of food, your stomach gurgles violently, loud enough for both of you to hear which causes you both to burst into a fit of laughter.

“I guess that answers your question better than anything.” You choke through laughter.

“Well then,” She giggles, “McDonald’s, here we come!”

The two of you purchase almost the entire McDonald’s menu and eat approximately 3/4ths of it in the car before you’re finally headed to the beach house with bloated tummies and quenched appetites.

Eventually, you’re pulling into the driveway of a small, teal beach house facing the ocean. The house is lifted on stilts due to its position near the ocean and the paint is slightly worn, chipping away on the wooden slats most likely due to past tropical storms. There are two sets of steps, both leading to a wrap around porch, one coming from the back of the house (where the pool is) and one leading directly to the front door. It’s quaint and homey and you love it.

When you’d initially pulled in, you hadn’t noticed the other car parked in the driveway, but now that you’re stepping out of Deidre’s car, your gaze falls directly onto the bright yellow Ferrari parked only a few feet away from you. There is only one person you know that owns that exact car.

“Oh! I forgot to mention, Harry is staying here too.”

You whip your head in Deidre’s direction, your jaw nearly dropping from its hinges. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier??”

She shrugs casually as she swings the drivers door shut and walks around to the back. “I guess I forgot.” She presses a button on her keys and the back door slowly opens in front of her. “Plus, I didn’t think you’d mind, the two of you have always gotten along.”

“Deidre, that’s not why I’m upset-”

“Great, then what’s the problem?” She interrupts, eyebrows raised in question as she stares at you. You definitely aren’t one for violence, but the image of smacking her directly across the face flashes across your mind for a moment and you seriously consider doing it. “He’s just here to relax like us. And he’s paying for the place, so I couldn’t really say no.”

You let out an exasperated groan in response, slamming the passenger door shut and stomping around to the back of the car so that you can retrieve your own bags.

The truth is, you and Harry had gotten along in the past, which would give you no reason to be panicking right now, but something you hadn’t told Deidre was that for the entirety of your childhood, you were madly in love with him. Yes, he’s older than you by a few years, but that never stopped you from pining over him from the ripe age of six. You had watched the way he treated his two sisters and mother for so long and fell in love with his kindness and care for others. You used to daydream about the day he would realize his love for you, but of course Harry got famous and that day never came.

It’s been years since you’ve seen him in person. The last time you were in direct contact was nearly 4 years ago, a couple years after he went on The X Factor and was immediately consumed by fame. He was 18 at the time, visiting home during a little break, and you were having a sleepover with Deidre, but the length of your collision wasn’t very long. A few harmless words were exchanged during dinner and then you and Deidre had excused yourselves to continue your evening and that was it. Then, he was undeniably the most attractive boy you had ever seen and now, if it was even possible, he’d blossomed into a beautiful man, even more attractive than he was before.

As you begin to haul your bags out of the trunk, Harry appears at the top of the steps, screen door leading into the house flapping loudly behind him.

“Need some help with bags?” He calls, swiftly galloping down the wooden steps.

Deidre sighs in relief, “That’d be great, thanks Harry!”

His long, curly hair is pulled into a tight bun at the top of his head, a few stray curls framing his beautiful face. He smiles at you, dimples sinking deeply into his cheeks as he strides towards you, “Long time, no see,”

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks and you smile sheepishly, “Hi, Harry, how are you?”

“I’m pretty good! And yourself?” He asks, effortlessly tugging your large bag from the trunk of the car and slinging it over his shoulder.

You swallow thickly, struggling to keep your eyes off of his straining muscles through his thin t-shirt. “I’m uh- I’m good as well.”

“Glad to hear it, babe.” He winks and you watch as he takes a few smaller bags from the trunk, heading back up the stairs and through the front door, breathing out a shaky sigh before grabbing your remaining bag.

Deidre is already halfway up the stairs behind him when she calls back to you, “Can you close the trunk before coming up?”

You shoot her a quick thumbs up and drop the bags onto the cement driveway, lifting your arms above your head and slamming the large door shut before picking up the bags again and heading towards the stairs. You’re still quite stunned at what just happened and, frankly, you’re a little bit vexed with Deidre’s nonchalant way of sharing that Harry was going to be joining you on what was supposed to be a relaxing trip. Nevertheless, you’re forced to set your feelings aside and keep your mouth shut for fear of Deidre prying the truth out of you.

As you step into the house, screen door slamming behind you, you take a gander around the living area. It’s small and you can tell it hasn't been redecorated since at least 1985. Every piece of decor has some sort of relation to a beach (quite fitting considering where you are). Even the wallpaper is covered with small seashells and fish and it makes you chuckle. There’s an opening connected to the living area that leads directly to the kitchen, a second doorway that you assume leads to the bedrooms, and a large sliding glass door that leads to the back porch.

Deidre saunters out of the second doorway, “C’mon, let me show you our room!”

You frown, “Our room?”

“Yeah, there are only two bedrooms.”

“Oh,” You take a moment to breathe in, feeling your frustration building with every passing moment as you follow her into the small hallway. You pass the first door on your right, glancing inside to find the bathroom before moving on. The next door you pass is a bedroom decorated identically to the living room, a queen sized bed crammed into the corner with a quilt covered in clownfish and seaweed and the last door is another bedroom. This bedroom is painted a bright coral pink and the theme seems to be seashells due to the seashell print on the bed’s quilt and the framed seashells above the bed. This room, although similar to the first one, is a little bit larger and the bed rests directly in the middle of the room instead of it being crammed into the corner like the first one.

You step into the room after Deidre and toss your bags onto the floor next to the wall before throwing yourself onto the bed as you kick your shoes off. “I’m so ready to relax,”

She hums as she unzips her large bag and begins shoveling her clothes into the top drawer of the dresser across from the bed. “Me too,”

“I think I might go for a swim,” You turn over onto your back, lifting yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed as you look at her. “Wanna join me?”

“As soon as i finish unpacking, I will.”

You shoot her a quick thumbs up and shove yourself off of the bed and towards your bags. Harry had set your large bag of clothes right beside the door, so you fall to your knees and pull it towards you to search for your bathing suit.

“Go ask if Harry wants to come, too.” She adds, tossing her own bathing suit onto the bed.

You hate her. You want to strangle her. It’s like she knows. But of course, she doesn’t. You’d never told anyone about your little crush and you planned to keep it that way. Tucking the valuable information into the very back of your mind for the rest of eternity.

Without a word, you push yourself onto your feet and pad through the doorway, the thick carpet squishing softly beneath your bare feet. You’re hesitant to call for him at first, quietly wandering through the hallway, peering into the open doorways. Both rooms are empty, but there’s evidence of him sprawled across the bedroom. A large suitcase thrown haphazardly on the bed with clothes and shoes strewn all around it.

“Harry?” You continue walking, stepping out into the living room to find him lounging on the couch with the TV on in nothing but a pair of tight, black jeans, tattoos on full display. “Oh, there you are,” He looks up at you, a hint of mischief behind his virescent eyes. “Dee was wondering if you wanted to go for a swim with us.” it’s a statement, of course, but the wavering of your voice makes it sound like a question.

“I would,” He starts, sitting up a little and reaching for the TV remote to turn down the volume. “But it looks like it’s about to rain.”

You frown, turning to the sliding glass window to find that in the short amount of time it took for you to take your bags from the car and into the house, the sky had filled with dark, fluffy clouds.

“Shit.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance, droplets of rain mizzling against the windows and roof quietly as the three of you keep yourselves dry inside the beach house.

“Alright, we have Monopoly, Life, Scrabble, Cards Against Humanity, a deck of regular playing cards, Jenga, and a few puzzles.” Deidre lists as she shovels through the large chest beside the couch, labeled ‘Games’. “Which one sounds the most fun right now?”

You curl your feet underneath you on the couch and shrug, “A puzzle sounds nice.”

She nods, turning to Harry who’s making himself a sandwich in the kitchen. “Harry?”

“I agree with her on the puzzle.”

“Puzzle it is, then.” She concludes, grabbing the first puzzle her eyes land on and setting it on the wooden coffee table. Another fit of thunder causes the house to shiver and you sigh, silently cursing the rain for trapping you inside on the first day of vacation.

After Harry comes back into the living room and settles onto the couch beside you, Deidre sits on the other side of the coffee table and dumps the puzzle pieces out onto it. A show you’ve never heard of plays on the TV behind her and you glance up from the puzzle every now and then to watch it as the three of you sit in silence.

The entire evening Harry sits beside you, his arm gently nudging yours every time he reaches forward to move a puzzle piece. At first, you brush it off as an accident, barely acknowledging his presence, but when he takes it a step further and knocks a puzzle piece out of your hand, you glance in his direction to find him smiling smugly to himself. You shake your head, holding back a small smile as you return to the puzzle, finding a different piece and placing it where it belongs. Two can play at that game.

As Harry reaches for another piece, you quickly reach over his arm and snatch the piece he was aiming for, mumbling: “Ah, here it is! I was looking for this one.”

You can feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as you hold back a laugh, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Was that necessary?” He hums thickly, keeping his gaze in your direction.

You shrug, placing the piece into its home. “I mean, that’s the point of building a puzzle, right? Finding each piece and where it goes...”

He smirks and shakes his head at you but doesn’t respond.

A few hours pass as the three of you work and soon, it’s dark outside and the rain has calmed to a light drizzle. Deidre yawns and stretches her arms above her head before glance at the time on her phone.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed, it’s pretty late and long drives always make me tired.” She says through another yawn and you nod.

“Me too,”

“Alright then, wimps,” Harry replies, “I guess I’ll just have to party by myself.”

Deidre looks at you and rolls her eyes dramatically as Harry chuckles to himself. You push yourself up from the couch, stretching your arms out above your head just like Deidre had done moments ago.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She hums, stepping around the coffee table to smack a quick kiss to his forehead before sauntering off to the bedroom. You glance behind you as you follow her, giving Harry a small wave.

“G’night,” He mumbles softly in response and you can feel his gaze on you as you step into the hallway. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s checking you out.

Warm droplets of water cascade down your bare skin as you step out of the shower, wrapping a soft towel around your body. You hum quietly to yourself, patting the towel against your skin to dry off as much as possible.

Just as you’ve finished drying yourself off, you realize you completely forgot to bring a clean change of clothes into the bathroom, so you’re just left with the dirty clothes you’d spent the entire day in. Cringing at the thought of putting the clothes back on, you decide to take your chances and slip out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around your form.

You gather the pile of clothes into your arms after taking a moment to moisturize and brush your teeth, stepping out into the dark hallway. Suddenly, just as you’re taking another step, Harry appears at the end of the hallway, crunching loudly with a bowl of cereal in hand. He’s clothed in a thin, grey t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, fluffy socks pulled onto his feet.

“Shit,” You gasp, eyes widening as you press the bundle of clothes to your chest harshly.

“Oh, hey,” Harry says mid chew.

You pause, “I didn’t think you’d be awake...”

He smiles sheepishly, “Yeah, uh, I got a little hungry.”

“I can see that,”

“I can make you a bowl if you’d like,” He offers, jutting a thumb behind his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“Harry-” You scoff, “I am quite literally standing naked in front of you right now.”

He shrugs, chuckling to himself as his eyes flit to the ground and then back up to you. “Was just trying to be polite.”

“Um- well, thanks, but I think I’m alright for now.”

“Alright,” He sighs, taking another bite from his spoon, “Goodnight, then.”

“‘Night.” You murmur, watching him strut past you towards his room. You wait until the door is closed before you scurry into your own room, finding Deidre fast asleep on her side of the bed.

Morning comes sooner than anticipated and soon, you’re dragging yourself out of bed as Deidre snores. You’re not expecting her to get out of bed anytime soon.

You trudge out into the kitchen with a yawn, finding Harry leaning against the countertop with his nose buried in a book. He’s in the same clothes from the night before, but instead of his hair being pulled back into a bun

“Good morning,” You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself as you step onto the cold tile.

He glances up from his book and smiles back, tucking a bookmark between the pages before setting it down on the countertop. “Mornin’. Coffee’s almost ready if you want some. I made enough for all of us.”

“Oh, great, thank you!”

“I went out to the shops earlier as well and got some of that coffee creamer you and Dee like,” He starts, pushing his large hand through his long, curly hair. “I know it’s been a bit since we last saw each other, but I know that she still likes it, so I assumed you do, too.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you take a clean mug from the dish rack lying beside the sink, “I actually do still like it, thank you.”

He shakes his head, “S’no problem, really.”

The coffee maker beeps twice to indicate that the coffee is finished brewing and Harry turns, reaching out for your mug. “May I?”

“Oh- yes, please,” You smile, allowing him to take the ceramic mug from your hand and pour the scalding liquid into the mug before gently placing it back into your hand. “Thanks.”

You walk to the fridge, swinging the door open to scavenge for the creamer he’d mentioned earlier. The carton catches your eye and you snatch it from the shelf, kicking the fridge door shut before setting the mug on the counter.

“Did I get the right kind?” Harry asks as you unscrew the cap.

“Yep!” You smile, pouring the cream into the dark coffee, causing the two to swirl together into a thick, hazel colored liquid. You find a small spoon in one of the many drawers lining the countertop and you drop it into the liquid, stirring it momentarily before tapping off the excess liquid and placing the spoon into the sink. Glancing back up at him, you take a careful sip from your mug to test the temperature.

“Good?” He asks, sipping from his own mug slowly.

“Great.” You confirm, taking a larger sip as you lean your hip against the counter.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few long moments, sipping your coffee leisurely before Harry speaks.

“Do you-” He clears his throat, “Do you want to go sit out on the back deck with our coffee? The weather’s great and the view is phenomenal.”

He seems slightly more nervous than he had been the day before, most likely due to your brief run in that evening, but you don’t mind. “Yeah, that sounds nice!”

He nods towards the doorway with a smile, waiting for you to take the first step before following behind you through the sliding glass door. There are a few chairs settled around a small, round table, overlooking a breathtaking view of the beach where a few people are getting their morning jog in or just strolling leisurely along the shore. You slide yourself into the furthest chair, careful not to spill the hot coffee in your hand as you do so, watching Harry as he does the same.

You wonder why, if he was paying for the entire trip, he would choose such a cheap beach house in such a rural part of this particular beach. Seeing as he was a multi millionaire, you’d assume he would choose the most expensive place to stay in the most popular area, but that obviously isn’t the case. Not that you aren’t grateful for staying there for free, because you are, you’re just curious.

“So,” You begin, sipping your coffee for a moment before continuing. “How’s celebrity life treating you?”

He chuckles, pushing a hand through his luscious mane, “S’not bad. Been treatin’ me pretty well, I can’t complain.”

You nod, “That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” Pausing for a moment, you curl your feet beneath you on the chair before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up from his coffee, raising his eyebrows with a nod, “Sure.”

You take a breath, aware of the intrusiveness of your question but speaking anyways. “Dee told me you’re paying for all this,” You motion to the house with your hands, “And I’m just wondering why you chose to come here and rent this house when you have the money for something much nicer in a much nicer area.”

He thinks about it for a moment, brows furrowed in thought before he lets out a breathy laugh. “Honestly, there are a few reasons,” He clears his throat and crosses one leg over the other. “The first one is that I’m able to avoid paparazzi, for the most part, because they don’t suspect that I’d ever stay in a place like this,” He explains, using his hands to animate. “And the second one is that I like to make things as normal as possible, especially when I’m spending time with Dee. I know she would absolutely love staying in some bougie mansion with its own private beach, but I just don’t want things to be different from when we were kids, you know? I’d rather her not have the image of me being a rich asshole in her head all the time. I just want her to see me as she always has; her big brother.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his sentiment, the reminder of just how much he cares about his family causing certain feelings to come rushing back to you. “I- sorry, I know that was a weird question to ask... but yeah that makes sense. I didn’t really think of it that way.”

Just as you finish speaking, Deidre comes bursting wildly through the sliding glass door in her bathing suit and a large towel draped over her arm.

“IT’S BEACH TIME, FUCKERS!!” She screams, leaping down the stairs and bolting across the dock leading to the beach. Her bare feet kick up clouds of sand as she runs across the beach, dropping her towel carelessly as she gallops into the water.

You and Harry look at each other with wide eyes, both of you bursting into a fit of laughter at the same time. You open your mouth to speak, but Deidre beats you to it.

“COME ON GUYS!! IT FEELS GREAT!”

You look back at Harry again, snickering. “I think we should get out there.”

He hums, “I agree.”

You both lift yourselves out of the porch chairs, heading into the house to change into your own bathing suits. Harry, of course, offers to take your mug and clean it.

Around ten minutes pass before you’re finally in your bathing suit stepping out onto the sand with Harry following close behind. Deidre is laying out on the sand with an arm draped over her eyes as she waits for the two of you to arrive. Since it’s still morning, there’s a bit of a nippy breeze to the air, causing goosebumps to litter your skin and shiver to travel down your spine.

“Finally,” She breathes, pushing herself up from the towel. Harry comes up behind you and drops both of your towels onto the sand beside her along with his book from this morning.

“S’quite nice out, innit?” He hums, resting his hands against his hips. His hair is pulled back into a bun and he’s wearing the shortest bright yellow swim trunks you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but to giggle a little.

Deidre rolls her eyes, reaching forward and grasping your arm before dragging you with her towards the water. It’s around 10:00 am and there are a few more people on the beach than there were when you and Harry had first sat on the deck, so when you enter the water, you and Deidre aren’t the only ones there.

Though there are people on the beach, none of them seem to notice that Harry’s there. They’re all caught up in their own vacations, oblivious to the fact that a multi-millionaire celebrity is galloping into the ocean towards you like a child.

You and Deidre screech as he comes toppling into the water head first, cool water splashing around him and onto both of you. The small waves crash into your legs whilst you clamor through the water, Harry surfacing dramatically, completely soaked and absolutely gorgeous.

“It’s fucking freezing,” You mutter under your breath, wrapping your bare arms around yourself as you trudge deeper into the water.

“If you get wet, it won’t be as cold.” Harry retorts, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose.

You shake your head at him, “You’re insane,”

Just as you speak those words, Deidre dunks herself completely under water, splashing you once again as she comes back to the surface.

Harry chuckles, “C’mon, you’re gonna get wet eventually.”

You ignore the subtle innuendo. “I have no intention of getting in further than here so if you really want me to go under, it’s gonna have to be done by force.”

He cocks an eyebrow from beneath his sunglasses. “Is that a challenge?”

“Don’t even think about it,” You breathe, glaring at him.

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Deidre snickers as Harry begins to creep towards you slowly. His eyes are hidden beneath his sunglasses but you can tell his pupils are narrowed in directly on you.

You step back with every step he takes forward, small waves crashing into the backs of your thighs at the movement of the water. He lifts his arms slightly as he stalks toward you and you squeal, nearly stumbling backwards and toppling back into the cold water.

“Harry, I swear to god-” You start but you’re quickly interrupted by your own shriek as he tackles you into the water. It feels as though you’ve inhaled gallons of water from the impact once you resurface, sputtering and gasping dramatically. He doubles over with laughter and Deidre cackles a few feet away. You feel like a sad, wet dog standing in the ocean as they laugh at you and you cross your arms over your chest with a huff. “I hate both of you so much.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Oh, come onnnn, it’s not that bad.”

“My nipples could do some serious damage right now,” You growl between chattering teeth and both of them giggle.

“Well, you’re wet now so there’s no point in not swimming with us.” Deidre shrugs, dipping back under as a wave rolls by.

You stand in silent rage for a few moments, glaring at Harry as he tries in vain not to let his eyes flicker down to your breasts. You don’t notice his eyeline wavering, though, too distracted by the brumal temperature of your body. A particularly nippy breeze attacks your damp skin and you whimper slapping your arms around your chest.

“I’m going back to the shore. It’s way too cold for this.” You huff, the water sloshing loudly as you begin to traipse back to the shore.

Harry watches you stumble back onto the soppy sand with a slight smirk on his pink lips and you can hear the low chuckle escape from his chest breathily. You counter his haughty chortle with a middle finger thrown up behind you, eyes trained in front of you to shield your view of him.

Once you reach the towels you’d set out earlier, you unfold your towel and wrap it around your shoulders before plopping your ass into the sand. The chattering of your teeth subsides after a few moments and you glance to your side to find the book Harry had been reading. Curiosity fills you and you reach over, lifting it from its spot on Harry’s towel and bringing it in front of you to examine it.

It’s a paperback, the cover an off-white cardstock with a simple design of a bleeding heart, impaled by an arrow on the front. The title reads “The Course of Love, a novel by Alain De Botton” and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You never would have assumed that he would be such a romantic.

You turn to the first chapter titled “Infatuations”, scanning it briefly and landing on the small, italicized paragraph in the middle that reads, “A marriage doesn’t begin with a proposal, or even an initial meeting. It begins far earlier, when the idea of love is born, and more specifically the dream of a soul mate.”

“Insightful.” You mutter to yourself, eyebrows raised in understanding before fanning the pages to scour the book further.

As you scan the blur of pages, you find that there are words scrawled all over the margins of the paper, words frantically underlined like they’d been scribbled whilst he was in a hurry. Your thumb lands approximately a fourth of the way into the book, a small photograph slipping from the spine and into your lap as you open it. It’s a photo of him, Deidre, Gemma (their older sister) and Anne (their mother) all cuddled up together on Anne’s couch with warm smiles on their faces. Their smiles are almost identical to each other as well as their features and, in a way, it comforts you.

You glance back up from the photo to the page of the book, your eyes immediately landing on an underlined sentence from the italicized section. It reads, “When two people belong together, there is simply--at long last--a wondrous reciprocal feeling that both parties see the world in precisely the same way.” You suck in a breath at the words for a moment but a sudden droplet of water landing on the page pulls you from your stupor.

“I see you’ve found my book,” Harry’s voice belows above you and you snap your head in his direction as he shakes his dripping wet hair.

You nestling the photo back into the spine of the book before shutting it and smiling up at him sheepishly. “Sorry, I- it was just sitting there and I got curious.”

“S’alright, I don’t mind,” He shrugs, reaching for his towel and wrapping it around himself. “What’d you think?”

“Oh- I only read a couple sentences,” You mutter, tightening the towel around yourself. “But from what I did read, it seemed quite insightful.”

“Oh, yeah?” He quirks an amused eyebrow at you.

“Yeah,” You chuckle, “Very elegant and sophisticated.”

“Mmm.” He hums, nodding his head in agreement.

Your bottom lip slips between your teeth to hold back a grin as you glance away from him towards the water. Your eyes land on a group of people standing around Deidre in the shallow water directly across from you. You frown, “What’s Dee gotten herself into?”

He takes a swig from the metal bottle of water he’d brought with him before speaking, “Made herself some new friends, I guess.”

You study them for a moment, watching her laugh heartily at one of the guys’ jokes and pursing your lips together. Wherever the two of you went, she was always capable of making friends. Her natural charm could sweep anyone off their feet and it endlessly left you feeling like an extra wheel. You know she doesn’t mean to leave you out of things, she never has any sort of malicious intent, but you’re both so different from each other that it constantly feels like you’re left in the dust.

You glance away from the group, looking back in Harry’s direction to distract yourself from the intrusive thoughts filling your mind.

“So, um, what’re your opinions on it?” You start again, clearing your throat quietly. “The book, I mean.”

He smiles as he skillfully tosses his sopping hair into a messy bun, “I like it. S’actually the second time I’ve read it.”

Your eyebrows quirk at that, “Really?”

He nods, tilting his body closer to you and bending one of his legs up against his chest. “Yeah.”

You laugh, “What do you expect from that?”

“What, like, do I expect it to change?” You nod silently in response and he shrugs. “I mean- no, it’s just… comforting, in a way.”

“Comforting,” You repeat to yourself. “I guess that makes sense.”

“It also kind of helps me retain the information better, you know?” He continues, mindlessly digging his fingers into the damp sand.

“Yeah, I understand,” You reply softly, “Do you do that with all the books you read?”

He nods, “More or less.”

There’s an abrupt screech, followed by a few animated giggles and both of you look up at the sound. Deidre is running towards the two of you happily, a wide smile spread across her face as she skids to a stop in front of you.

“I’m gonna go get lunch with these guys,” She chokes, out of breath from the short jog over. “Do either of you wanna come?”

You glance behind her at the group as they watch her for a moment and then you turn your head back to her. “You go ahead, I think I’ll just stay back here.”

Her expression falls a little and she sighs, turning to Harry with a hopeful look. He looks at you for a moment and then peers back up at her.

“Think m’gonna do the same. Have fun, though.” He smiles and you nod along with him.

She sighs again, reaching down and yanking her towel from the sand. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go change and then I’ll be heading out with them for a couple hours.”

You watch as she calls back to them that she’ll “be right back” before galloping back up to the house with her towel dragging behind her.

“You could’ve gone with them if you wanted to, you know,” You say quietly. “I’m alright by myself.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, s’not really my scene anyways.”

You stay silent after that, watching the repetitive roll of the waves in a mindless state. Deidre returns in a matter of minutes, a loose dress tossed over her bathing suit, her long, dark hair tied into a high ponytail fluttering behind her as she prances.

“See ya!” She calls after you.

“Be careful!” You call in response and then she’s gone, engulfed into the group just like she had been before.

AHHHHHF;LSFSDLFJAS;DLKFJSDFK PLS PLS PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT U THINKKKK <33333

taglist: @first-one-that-i-see @harryandthatgayvodka @summertimestyles @bopbopstyles @harrysclementines @emsthoughts @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @clorenafila @harries-gayvodka @dmcupcakexo @glitterwhore @harryspinkshoelace @lovemenowseemenever @happydays @sisters-of-the-mo0n @shut-up-and-smile @fallingslowlyforu @slytherinambitious @moonlightmaliksblog @cocoamoonmalfoy @harryspirate @sunflowers-styles @sunflower6why @harrys-bitch

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flowerslut · 2 years ago

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H, I, Y and Z for your letters 🤠

G my beloved I knew you’d come to rescue me in my eleventh hour… i’d kiss u on the mouth about it but I don’t want you covid-stricken (again) 😔

H: How would you describe your style?

LMAO of course you hit me with the question I always have a hard time answering right out of the gate. bitch (affectionate).

girl I don’t knowwwwwwww

I don’t intend for all of my stories to be as angsty and dramatic as they end up being, but I really gravitate toward writing really emotionally charged stories. I’d consider them fairly accessible though, (which I take a teeeeensy amount of pride in) because I feel like not getting too purple or too descriptive makes it easier to reign in a wider group of readers who, like myself, might find that distracting or boring. it definitely may bite me in the ass at some point, but as long as I have their attention and their emotion invested in the story, I find I can sort of ~get away~ with not needing to be as descriptive as others. not that I don’t get descriptive or purple at any point, but I’ve found a good balance with the set up and execution of my funky little plot points—I almost always have some sort of heavy build before you get that emotional payoff, but I’d like to think it’s worth it for the reader 😵‍💫

also I’m a big third person limited girlie. I pick a blorbo and we go on their funky little nightmarish adventure with them

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

oh man yeah I don’t currently have any guilty pleasures since I haven’t been reading too much fic recently (I mean it when I say I’m fucking picky) but an old guilty pleasure for SURE (and for some fandoms, still is) is accidental pregnancy fics LMAO (girl don’t you say shit). of course since that’s a nightmare in any twilight scenario that I’d ever care to read about that’s nothing I would ever read in twilight (or employ for writing purposes either) but for a lot of my old ships… whew boy… that’s some spicy drama… I cant get enough lmfaooo 🫣

Y: A character you want to protect.

I’m part of the gaara defense squad in naruto. like fuck off leave my boy alone he’s been through enough (you’ll never see me putting him through it in fics on my LIFE you won’t). but as for twilight? I don’t typically feel the need to protect any of them (I literally put my favs fucking Through It constantly) but I will happily join/create the tanya defense squad. lord knows she needs some protection from the rabid edbellas that villainize her in 93% of all fic (don’t anybody @ me about this. I’m right)

Z: Major character death—do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can't tolerate?

as someone who HAS written a major character death in a large story (sorry changing skies readers, but it had to be done) I would only employ it if the story absolutely called for it. I hate reading a story with a plot that calls for a high death rate but the author just… spares all the mains (I’m glaring at you, duffer brothers) so it only makes sense to use it to keep things more “realistic” and to keep the stakes high. I’ve used it before and would I use it again? probably, yeah!

I do draw the line at killing off half of my ship. the main reason (or at least, 99% of the reason) that I read or write fic is for pairings. I am a shipper through and through and I am that PROUDLY, so the idea of just axing half of what I’m even reading or writing a story for is just… utterly unappealing to me. I’m here for their journey. and sure, sometimes those journeys don’t end “well” but it’s so intensely rare that I’ve ever read a story that kills half of the reason I’m reading that story in a satisfying way. (also if you come at me for “welcome to hell” don’t even bother. that was a practice in TRAGEDY you FOOLS)

#thank u G i love u

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layanasstories · 3 years ago

Text

Survive

Part 7

The regular lights were already on when we got back inside. Even the bouncer is having a drink at the bar. "Jake" he nods and he raises his glass as a greeting. "Brun" Jake greets back. "How's your mom?" before the man could ask any further questions, he was thrown a tea towel at his head from Tanya. "Seriously Bruno?" she throws her hands up in the air and then puts them in her sides and looks at him disapprovingly. Bruno shrugs, not understanding what he's doing wrong. "It's all right, Tanya." Jake waves it away and takes a sip of the double whiskey she just put down in front of him.

"My mom is as she always is, Bruno. Still with the wrong guy, selfish and always looking for the next fix." he takes another sip, well more like a gulp, emptying his glass in one go. "And if you're wondering if she was happy to see me, I can tell you that she almost didn't recognize me. Yes, only after I said she wasn't getting a dime from me. Then she got furious and as usual, I'm still not her son!" He tapped his glass on the bar, whereupon Tanya refilled his glass. "But she's too stupid for words, so my keys were just where they always are. Meaning I could use my old room. There I plugged my computer in and did what I had to do." this time it didn't even take two gulps, because the glass was empty in one. "Well, as expected, I've been able to hear the usual accusations again. That she hates me and I'm never there for her. bla bla bla." he hung forward on the bar slung over one arm and with the other he tapped his glass again. "That's your last one, Jake" Tanya says as she refills his glass. "You know I can handle a lot more" he answers as he circles with his glass. "Yes I know, but you are not alone as usual" she winks at him. "Yeah! You got that right! The love of my life is sitting right here next to me. In a strip club of all places, isn't that a good joke?".

Now it is my turn to drink my glass in one gulp. It sounds like there's more to come and I'm still too sober. Tanya saw it and refilled my glass, Bruno declined the refill but remained seated. "Did you know, Bruno, that yesterday, I met Layana for the first time?" Jake continues. "What? You've only known each other since yesterday?" Tanya looks shocked. Before Jake could continue with his rant I took over "No, we've known each other for a long time now. But for known reasons, we haven't been able to meet before.". "That's right! And then you also decided to run away, which you are very good at" he points at me and shakes no. "That's unfair! You know I tried my best!" I start to laugh at the thought of what it must have been like for the people at the bus stop. A car pulls up and a grown ass woman steps in with stamping feet like a teenager who has been caught running away from home.

Bruno, who had remained silent until now, finally speaks "Has he lost his mind?" he looks at me and then Tanya. "No, I'm still totally sane, Bruno. But the shit we two are in" gesturing to me and him "Makes me completely hopeless that it's going to end well." he lets out a deep sigh. "Anyway we won't be staying long Tanya. Maybe two or three nights. And then we'll go again.". "Don't worry. I can sleep with Bruno, he can keep me warm. Right darlin'?" a smile and a wink appear on her face. "Yes dear! I will keep you warm, even if it's the last thing I do!" he replies with also a wink. Tanya and Bruno left after we had finished our glasses. I'm cleaning the glasses and tidying up behind the bar, while Jake had walked along to lock the door behind them. Now he's waiting against the door frame, until I'm done and can walk upstairs with him.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x player #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood game

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sword-of-summer · 4 years ago

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All of them answer every question fuck you

ahahaha no i respectfully deny your "fuck you" and i accept the ask and so-

i am 5'10", and i don't wish to be taller or shorter- i am the perfect height for hugs and messy hair, and yep, i like it here-

dream pet would be a mix of golden retriver and a husky called Holly and a chonky cat called Loki- yes ofcourse my future kids have names everyone should name their future pets-

ripped jeans/black pants with a Darth Vader tshirt or a Ethnic Fusion Kurta with black sneakers/artificial leather slip-ons, and if it's cold, a black jacket open obviously- and a black wristwatch i love my black wristwatch.

favourite video game was Clash of Clans and going even back, GTA Vice City and, the og- MARIIOOOO

three things/people are Oreos, Nutella and Pizza. The Holy Trinity-

"Beware me my fingers are smeared with chicken popcorn grease"

you didn't mention an opinion, @chunkybirb, so imma give my opinion on Vanilla ice cream and Nutella- ANYONE WHO HADN'T COMBINED THESE TWO COMBINE THESE TWO THEY ARE FUCKING AWESOME

im either phlegmatic or melancholic bruh idk maybe ik or maybe not

im v v v v ticklish

not an allergy, but an intense hatred for ketchup- i vomit if it gets too close to me fuck you ketchup

im heterosexual

any between tea and coffee but full milk coffee (ik, kill me), never had cocoa- but i love a chocolate or nutella milkshake

both. both is good. (cat and dog)

i would be an elf cause hell yeah, knowledge and wisdom

favourite youtuber is Samay Raina, a stand up comedian turned youtuber who is just awesome-

as i mentioned in 1., i am 5'10"

i would not change my name cause it's the coolest fucking name ever, i am Tanay, and Tanay in Hindi means Son, and my parents literally named their son Son, and hell yeah i like it

i forgot how much i weigh- last i checked it was 75 kilos, but ive gained weight since 2019 so yep, gotta walk in the mornings

yes i believe in metaphysicality cause one- it seems cool- second- me and @theclassyghost discussed a metaphysical life theory that i really really like and metaphysicality gives preservation of knowledge so i believe in spirits

SPACE. SPACE. SPACE.

im not that religious, no

pet peeves no well nah not really

nocturnal def nocturnal i sleep at 4.50 anyway hehehehe

fav constellation is Cassiopeia

fav star is Sirius tho

what the fuck are ball jointed dolls

i do have a fear of losing people that's just anxiety i guess

yep, global warming is real

never thought that much about reincarnation tbh but maybe, i do

fav movie is Spider Man : Into The SpiderVerse and Inception and The Dark Knight Rises and Revenge of The Sith and yes, for my indian gang, 3 Idiots and Gully Boy

yep i get scared v v v easily

i have had no pets but i plan to once i grow up

@chunkybirb 's blog is fucking cool awesome and *chef's kiss* a masterpiece

blue calms me. i love blue.

live in Norway cause pretty lights, snow, and less people than this overpopulated country i am in

born in Mumbai, India

v v v dark brown like it's almost black but no it's dark brown

introvert

horoscopes and zodiacs, i do read them, never believed that much tbh-

HUGS I LOVE HUGS

i really wanna visit my brother i haven't met him in a long time i really wanna play cricket w him just like old times

my sister- she's annoying but well i care for her

nah

tattoos idk bruh im okay idk may get one or may not get one

nope, smoking is ewwww *vomits*

ah my crush- she's cool [ if she exists

when the chalk doesn't write on the board but goes iiiiiieeee I HATE THAT

a sound i love is rain pitter pattering i just hhhhhh sends me into happiness

nope fatass here

favourite actors have to be eddie redmayne, oscar issac and pedro pascal- and margot robbie and winona ryder in the actresses section also yes, elliot page

bruh already answered in 30.

im okayish!! spotify and tumblr, cool combo-

my hair are okay being black for me

yesterday, monday, from 6.40 to 6.50

music

uhhh naah not that i know of

well in Rick Riordan's Magnus Chase books, the sword of Frey aka Sumarbrander TALKS and demands to be called Jack, so here i am

bakwaas, music and comfy

yep, i believe in evolution

unfollow on hate and when they dm me sending nsfw pics ugh why are people like that

follow, well, i like people and they seem cool, so i follow them

fav kind of person is the one who'll sit with me for hours not even talking and just vibing to music

fav animals are beavers, doggos and cats

three fav blogs are @chunkybirb, @theclassyghost, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @aredhel-of-gondolin, @sue-me-imbadass, @alleenkaas, @my-ackerman, @brrrrrrrrrrzone

fav emoticon has to be ☹ this me seeing my stupidity outrank others

fav meme has to be Butternut is a master of psychological manipulation

INTP

Libraaa let's go

no dog, i have

black darth vader tshirt, black pants, black sneakers and black wrist watch

i have no selfies my phone has no cameras i live in eternal darkness

what the fuck are platform shoes

i, uhhh, i remember weird things like what i drew in class in 3rd while i was supposed to be doing english

lazy ass here, no front flips possible

i like birds they fly

nope i don't Iike swimming i like blankets

wrapped up in blankets reading books sounds better than both

ketchup

hyperspace travel

nope none

reading writing eating sleeping

my friend

tumblr seems cool

i have around 60-70 idk

yes i can run but why

yes they do but what's the fun in that

nope I'd fall over

sapphire let's go

koala bear or panda

sunflower or the one on a lemon tree

ketchup store

one cup of coffee is enough, tysm

read minds that sounds cool cool yeaaahh

nope never wore it a black clothes guy here BatMan

winter winter all year long

i don't know and i don't wanna try

i don't know and i don't wanna know

everyone cause they are better than me

bookstores cause bookstores any bookstores

sneakers, black onez

apparently some gas bitches mixed up to form a planet

non vegetarian but i partake meat just twice or thrice in two weeks

i don't know they don't seem like liking

naaaaaaaah

bugs ew

spiders ew

about the fact that i come off as arrogant and overconfident while in reality it's just that my communication skills suck

i can draw averagely whenever im in a mood

this thing im answering but i like answering it

uhhhhhhh brain freeze- idk bruh questions are good they give knowledge

yep, while sleeping

ahh yes calming, they are

cloudy days cause fucking cool vibes

hehehe wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy

CumuloNimbus i really like it's name yknow nimBUS

dark blue, dark blue always or black

naaaah no freckles

fav thing is when they laugh and it's just happy and we're both laughing like shitheads but who cares we're rebelling against depressing life and we laugh

both. both is good [ fruits and vegetables

sleep but i have to answer 170 questions cause @chunkybirb

sky sky sky it's my blog's header duh uh sKy

sweet and sour candy. SWEET AND SOUR CANDY.

dim lights it makes me feel cool

ahhh so here we go- Mooncalfs, Thunderbirds, Phoenixes, Sphinxes, Dragons that seem to be Space Nebulae, and more and more and more

i really feel like a boomer sometimes

i love everything about this site/app it makes me feel happy cause i like the people and the posts

uhhhhh i think too much about everything cause i just do. i like thinking

"He's dead, guys. For the sake of The Force, please watch Star Wars now he wanted to discuss it with you" actually no i would just say "A big shoutout to Garlic Bread he loved Garlic Bread"

myself cause i should be sleeping but sleep is for the weak and i am the weak and the strong i am a paradox-

that i obsess too much on things and try involving people it never works out

nope. had braces for 4 years, that beat out teeth showing smiles

i prefer computer-tv ahahahahaha

never tried them, so IDK

naaaaah not motion sickness- never travelled by sea so idk seasickness

lobed ears

yep i believe that deeds do count in life and beyond

idk bruh i don't believe in physical attraction too much- bodies are fake- mentally/metaphysically tho, im a 7

ahhhhh many many Stupid Genius, Tani, Tanu, Tanya

i still do-

i really want to talk to a therapist. converse. and discover.

im both, i am both.

10:1 is the ratio- giving 10, receiving 1

uhhh nothing just when i am right and people use the old "disrespect" argument

3, Hindi, Marathi, English

girls

uhh no i am not

my hair i love them everyone says things about my hair but i love them

knowledge vibes i give, someone tells me- and that's all i ever wanted

anyone i know tbh, my mutuals, my friends, my discord friends

ahhh no i wouldn't but i wish i was born 20 years earlier

bleh bloo, neither like nor dislike

i don't know if i have one

i don't know, haven't had physical contact in a long long long time in a galaxy far far away

the above point stands but i would like to ig

anything i write, 3 hours later, i instantly hate just idk why

anything i write

that i am normal no i am not and i am not okay hahahahaha

65-70 ish people

somewhere around-

many many many don't ask please but okay if you do ask

somewhat

uhhhhh idr exactly but i won't tell in public duh uh

mediummm hairrrr

last year lockdown i became harry potter

i don't know buddy i seriously don't know

yep i do cause knowledge i like knowledge

naaah never tried

no i definitely cannot stand on my hands or my head for more than 30 seconds

yep, im pretty sure i answered most of them correctly-

og link-

#personal #ask #tumblr

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 5 years ago

Text

Playing Games

So Tanya With a Motherfucking T, @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles, and I were chitchatting about Calum Hood and that wedding band in No Shame. And she thought it was a great time to mention Husband!Calum. I had to deliver. Thanks for the idea/inspiration!

I did one up this though. So here’s some SilverFox!Husband!Calum for you.

There is 18+ content in here. Please do not interact or read if you are under 18. Thank you!

You can support me on ko-fi--I’m saving up for graduate school and those expenses. Any help is greatly appreciated!

_________

You spot him at the bar, the broad back and the peak of curls and slightly graying hair. He twirls the glass in his hand, eyes glancing around the bar. It’s not bad, the music isn’t too loud. There aren’t a lot of bodies circling the place, just enough to let you know that the hours are still early and the later you stay out the busier it might be. You slide up next to him—a few seats down of course. Nothing too close that makes it seem like you’ve picked him out already out of the crowd. But close enough that you can pick up a chat, see if he’ll take the bite.

You signal down for the bartender and order just a rum and coke, paying for it right off. There’s no need for a tab. It’s an old standby and you don’t want your drink choice to be wild. A blue motorcycle is much too bright for the game you’re playing. You have to keep it coy. You glance down to the worn wood of the bar and look back to him. Donned in a leather jacket and a beanie, the man keeps a steady gaze at his drink. When your drink is placed down, you smile at the bartender and then turn your focus back to the man.

“Something got you down?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on him. As he turns, he smiles, watching you take a sip of the dark liquid in the glass. In the muted light of the bar, it almost matches the color staining your lips.

“No, nothing got me down.”

You grin, around the glass before setting it down. “Huh, could’ve fooled me.” You lick your lips, collecting the last tastes of your drink before slipping down the barstool and into the one a little closer to him. “Come here often?”

He shrugs, hand still holding the drink but never actually raising to take a drink. “You could say so.”

You nod, looking down at your glass too. His grin is easy on his face. When you blink back up at him, you really think that your heart shouldn’t be beating this fast. “Mind showing a new girl like me around?”

He laughs, taking your left hand and presses a kiss to it. There’s a twinkling to his dark eyes. His tanned fingers wrap around your left ring finger. “Seems like you’ve been around the block.” When you glance down the lights for the bartenders to see are just enough to see the tan lines where your ring usually sits.

You should feel embarrassed but you’ve been here before. You shrug. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t kill him.” He’s slipped up though, he reached with his own left hand, initials decorating both hands. You spot the slight twinkle, the reflection of light off something shiny.

Readjusting the hold you take his hand and then turn it up towards him. “Seems like you’ve been around this block too.”

His cheeks flood and he’s not shocked that he forgot to take the gold band off. He barely takes it off long enough to shower. It feels too right on his finger. He slips the band off and is careful to zip it up into one of the pockets of his jacket. He pats his pocket just to make doubly sure that the ring is secured. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell,” he offers.

“It’s a good thing I take secrets to the grave.” He watches the way your lips curl into a wicked grin and as you smile, there’s the wrinkle of skin around your eyes. It shows the age, but you wear it well. Really well, he thinks, risking a small glance to the skin of your chest barely hidden by the wrap top. There’s the peak of a tattoo, dark ink etched into your hue. He thinks about how soft your skin is, how it would melt under his touch.

“Wanna get out of here?” You nod at the question, hoping he wouldn’t take forever to ask you. “Think I can get a pretty lady’s name?” he asks, taking your hand and leading you away from the bar. You give your name. He repeats it, like tasting it for the first time and then he says it again. More confident at the way it curls his tongue. The second taste is always better than the first, all of the uncertainty is gone and all that is left behind is just the flavor.

“I’m Calum,” he returns. “In case you ever wanted to know.”

“Live far from here, Calum?”

He shakes his head. “Not too far,” he answers.

The night’s still a little warm. You’re not sure how he hasn’t died in the leather jacket but you’re glad. It reminds you of the other times. The warmth settles onto your face and you feel transported. Before your career taking off, before kids, before time was a tight commodity, to younger years. You follow close behind as he leads you to his car. You let out a low whistle when the lights blink on the luxury sedan.

“I might have to stick around after tonight,” you tease.

As you slip into the passenger seat of the car, he bends down. “Spoken like a woman who knows what she wants.”

The drive’s smooth, the city lights dazzling as you ride past them. Reaching over, while stopped at a red light, you brush your hand over his thigh. Just a tease, a touch of what’s to come. “What are you doing in a city like this?” you ask. The tattoos are buried in the patches of darkness that you two pass under, but you watch for a glimpse of them as he cradles the steering wheel. You hope he cradles you like that. You hope that his touch is just as gentle.

“Nothing too exciting.”

Trailing a nail down the cut of his jaw, you hum. “It has to be exciting.”

“I’m in the business of music,” he exhales. He loves that feeling, the slight scratch of a fresh manicure. It sends a shiver down his spine.

“Play any instruments? You must have a voice like an angel,” you return. The timbre of his voice has your core aching. He speaks softly but with confidence.

He laughs and your heart jolts a little at the sound. God, it sounds amazing. You should bottle that. You could probably make a killing off it. “I’ve been told a time or two.”

“Only a time or two, what a shame.”

You make a point to keep your hand on your thigh. In your younger years, maybe you would’ve brushed your palm over his obvious erection. Maybe you would’ve even joked about giving him a blow job while he drove. But now, with time, you know the virtue of waiting. You know just how well a little patience can do you in the long run. So you keep a silent and soft hold of the top of his muscular thigh.

“What about you? What brings you to this crazy town?”

“Just floating really. Waiting for someone to come snatch me up.” You look up at him at the end of your sentence. He risks a glance at you. There’s the hint of a smile on his lips that doesn’t fully turn up. You know it’s there, dancing on the edge.

“An interesting way to live life,” Calum notes, taking the left turn smoothly into the neighborhood.

“It is interesting, life I mean. On this Earth for all these years and what are we meant to do with it?” The statement, the perspective, isn’t new to you. It was a question that plagued you in your twenties. Hell, it still bothered you even now after all you’ve done, after all the joy you’ve felt and the sorrows too, you still wondered what it all truly meant.

He hums in acknowledgment. The car stops gently in the driveway of the house. He takes your hand, bringing that same left ring finger to his lips to seal it with a kiss. “Why don’t we just forget about what it all means for a night?”

You grin. “I like the sound of that.”

The inside of the house is quiet but the silence doesn’t last long. After you drop your purse to the cushion of the couch and Calum slips the beanie off, after having locked the door, you step into him. “Tell me, you do this often?” he asks not giving in to the warmth of your presence.

“Backing out now?”

He exhales harshly as your nails scratch over his scalp. Your fingers intertwined around the mostly black strands. He looks too good with the sparse gray hairs and you feel the arousal dripping from you. He should be locked up, walking the earth this fucking handsome. When he turns, resting against the wall next to the door, there’s a small tapping of the photos that line the walls. His hands find your waist and tug.

His lips find yours and you hum at the sensation. He’s firm beneath you, but the edges are just a little softer with age. He inhales and his nostrils are invaded with your perfume. He loves that smell, knows it well too. You push him out of the jacket and drop that to the couch too. His fingers dig into the clothed flesh of your hips. They give so easily in his grip and he loves that feeling, the way you melt into him.

Breaking the kiss, you trail your lips along his jaw. The scruff lingers and you don’t hate it. You know it’ll burn deliciously between your thighs. He sighs when your lips suck at his skin at the juncture of his neck and ear. Calum brings his fingers to the tie at your waist and pulls it. The ribbed fabric falls open, exposing your lace-covered chest to the chill air. Your nipples perk up just a little and there’s not a moment wasted before his hand cups and thumb brushes over the sensitive buds.

You let your head fall back a little and steady yourself on his forearms. “A beautiful sight,” he whispers into your ear.

Your shirt drops to the floor and you step away from him. He groans but follows. “Which way to the bedroom? Back? The stairs? Help an old woman like me around.”

He slips out of his shoes, undoing the buttons on his button-up. He leads the way without words to the stairs. His fingers undoing each button before it drops on the second step in a heap. You kick out of your heels and follow. The undershirt doesn’t hide the ripple in his back or the divet of his shoulders. His jeans are tight around his thighs too. Before you reach halfway up the flight he’s pulling the black undershirt up and over.

“Oh, you’re leaving nothing for me,” you huff, pouting a little.

He laughs and stands at the top of the flight before facing you. “I’m saving you the best part.”

At the top of the stairs, you cup him through his pants, licking your lips at his size. “And to think, I wasn’t even looking for some dessert tonight.”

He cups your face, kissing you hard. There’s stifled moans from both of you and you give his cock a little squeeze. “Something tells me you were absolutely looking for something tonight. I just hope you found it.”

“Let’s find out, yeah?”

Inside the bedroom, Calum turns on a small bedside lamp. It’s bright enough to light the room enough that you won’t trip on anything. Before Calum can face you again, he can feel your nails tracing over his back, running across the muscles. The points feel so good against his skin. He grunts when you press in harder. The points of fire are followed by kisses and he could melt, into the floor and through the floorboards.

But you hold him up steady, hands sliding around his waist and down to the belt and buttons on his jeans. You take a small bite at his shoulder and you work the pants open. He rests a little bit more of his weight into you, careful not to send the both of you toppling. “It’s like Christmas,” you laugh, watching the way Calum loses himself into your touch. “Opening up presents.”

Calum, semi gone to the soft touch of your hands, laughs. “But so much sweeter.”

You tap his thigh and he turns. One hand slides to the back of you, playing at the hooks in your bra. The lace falls from around your shoulders and you let it drop to the floor. You can smell his body wash on his skin as you kiss across his chest. You let your fingers twist at his nipple before you continue your journey southward. Your knees pop and a small grunt escapes your lips. “You heard nothing,” you joke, looking up from the floor.

He bites his lips but nods. “Not a sound.” The teasing smile is threatening to split his cheeks but thankfully Calum keeps it together. That is until you pull the belt through the belts and work his jeans down. You kiss across his thighs and help him step out of the pile of cotton and denim. His socks go too and you spy the footprint on each inner calf right above his ankle. You almost slip, almost let the memory cross your lips but you swallow it down and work his length over with your hand.

Calum takes your wrist and pulls. “I need you up here.” His breath is labored. He could let you continue. He could let himself succumb to the bliss but he wants this to be about you more than anything else. He’s a giver and he won’t be stopped now.

“Sir, yes, sir.”

He helps you up. He trails his kisses down the length of your neck and shoulders. His fingers deftly pop the button on your jeans. He pushes them down, squeezing your ass as he goes. The jeans are pushed down to your hips and he sucks one of your nipples into your mouth. “Oh,” you whine, not expecting that sensation just yet. You hum as he continues on, fingers twirling the other bud.

He pulls away from your chest just enough to direct you to take a step back. You keep back until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you go falling into the sheets. He laughs at the yelp that falls from your lips. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Not gonna hurt you or let anything hurt you.”

One hand covering your startled heart, you laugh. Calum stands between your legs. He tugs at the material hiding the last few pieces of you. Your heart rate just about settles but Calum lets just a finger tease at your heat. “Hmm, you should have a taste,” you suggest, pulling at your own breasts.

Calum slips the digit into you and curls to brush over your g-spot before removing it. He licks his finger clean. He hums. “Sweeter than ice cream.”

He seals his mouth over yours, fingers slipping back into you. Your strangled moan is swallowed down by him. He loves the sounds you make, the way your body shakes under his touch. Both of you fall into the kisses and touches easily. He gives another bite to your shoulder before he whispers into your ear. “How about you take a seat? Let me show you a good time.”

As he pulls away, you crawl backward on the bed. “Just show me where.”

Calum settles onto the mattress and waves over his face. “The best seat in town.”

Swinging your legs over his torso, you settle at his waist. The curls fall onto his forehead and you push them back. Calum rests his hands on your hips and rubs his fingers over the skin. The stretch marks are familiar against his fingertips. He enjoys the small indentations. They remind him that everything is real around him. All those years have been well spent. “You going up or do I have to go down?” he asks.

“Oh, I’m going up.” You settle up. His arms wrap around your legs locking into place. The first swipe is slow but as Calum gets more of a taste he can’t help himself. He sucks your clit into his mouth and hums, it’s deep from within his chest. God, the taste of you is all he’s ever going to need.

You grip onto the headboard, chest heaving. Fuck, he’s too good. His tongue plays at your entrance and you grunt. God, you hope he’s not going to tease you like this. But in the end, it doesn’t really matter. You know what you signed up for and you’re going to get it too. “Fuck, yes,” you exhale.

He really was made to be between your thighs. His tongue laps from you and you’re sure you’re seeing stars. Another groan leaves your chest and it echoes for a moment around the room. It’s music to Calum’s ears. He doesn’t even take a moment to breathe or say anything. All he can do is drink from you. Your hips rock and you’re gripping at his hair as the heat bubbles in your gut. Your face is hot and you don’t even care how much noise you’re making. His tongue is magic beneath you.

“God,” you huff, gripping the headboard tighter. Your hips are a semi steady pace--the lock of Calum’s arm holding you mostly in place. Your thighs are quivering. It’s all you need, you think. This is all you need.

Your orgasm washes over you. Calum watches as best he can as you shake above him. It’s mostly just the sounds he wants to drink in, like the way you sigh and curse above him. Your body sags and you inhale deeply, running your fingers into your hair. You scoot down a little, still breathing a little hard. Calum licks his lips. “When all this is done, mind coming home with me?”

Calum laughs, deep from his gut. His retort is primed on his lips. You know it too. Know what he’s going to say you bend down and kiss him, letting that reply die. You can taste yourself but you don’t mind. He pushes up though, pushing you up higher too. Soon your back is hitting the sheets, Calum situated between your legs. His lips are sucking marks into your skin and you love it, melt into it and into the sheets.

“You’ve got one more in you, yeah?”

Cupping his cheeks, you resist the urge to squeeze them and nod. “Always.” He slides in, slow--just the tip at first and slowly, all the rest of his length is being squeezed by your walls. He groans into your neck. That’s the feeling, the initial thrust that always shocks you. Gently he rocks into you, hitching up your hip to get deeper.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and embrace the feeling of him brushing along your g-spot. The stretch is delicious and you’re addicted to it. His teeth nibbles along your skin and your nails are digging into his back. His head is swimming. “Fuck,” he moans. “So good, taking me so fucking well.”

“I love it. Love it so much,” you whisper into his ear. You nibble at his ear and moan as his brushes along with the pull out. It’s a nice and slow pace, breathy whispers and kisses. It’s a mess of sweat, kisses, and quiet exhales. Words that don’t come out fully but are still fully understood. The cry for more and the ache of being completely consumed. Your bodies share the heat of being so close.

“Hmm, god,” you whine. Your second orgasm is fast approaching and you know it won’t be kept at bay. “Calum, please.”

Oh how sweet, the sound of you begging beneath him. “You’re almost there. Come for me, yeah?”

You nod, hair brushing along the pillowcases and you exhale. The tension continues to build, tightening in your lower gut and it burst. You open your mouth to scream, to grunt his name, but you’re not sure if any sound comes out. It’s just a feeling, the shakes of your orgasm traveling through you.

Calum pauses, just a moment, the spasms of your orgasm making his body lock up in pleasure. He continues on, your legs wrapped around his waist. He’s so fucking close. It feels so good to him. This here is his heaven. He comes, a broken groan in your ear. He’s heavy as his weight settles into you. But you embrace it, playing at the hair at the nape of his neck and let your legs fall from around him.

He kisses up your neck. “Love you.”

“I love you,” you whisper, a small laugh cuts in at the end of it. Calum’s slow to peel off you and when he does, he takes your hands and leads you to the bathroom. Your hip pops just a little as you walk. “God, getting old sucks.”

“We’re not old,” he counters. “Just well aged.”

You laugh, settling onto the toilet. “That makes me feel like blue cheese. And I hate blue cheese.”

“I love blue cheese,” he counters. He travels back down the stairs, collecting the clothes and your purse. He sets the house alarm. The sound of the two beeps wakes the dogs. He hears their tags twinkling. Soon a cold snout is pressed into his calf. “Hi, buds. Were we loud?”

There’s no response from the dogs but the three of them travel up the stairs. Calum finds his ring from the coat pocket after dropping the heap of clothes and accessories onto the ottoman. You find your ring from the bedside table and slip it on. Twenty-two years together, sixteen years in marriage, and Calum will never get over the sight of you, your finger decorated in the ring your oldest helped pick out. Calum hadn’t meant to end up like this, married, three kids, two dogs, and house that maybe didn’t have the white picket fence but was in the middle of the street, one that was the place to be at all times of the day it felt like sometimes. But he’s glad it did happen, especially with you.

“You’re staring,” you retort. You can’t help the look down to his wedding band either, how it sits so perfectly on his slender finger.

“You’re beautiful you know?”

“You tell me every day.” You watch the dogs waltz around the room before walking back out. You can only assume with the lack of attention they grew bored.

“It’s true. Every day, especially the ones that end in ‘y’.” He’s always been a sap. Never too overtly so with it, but it’s always been there. It’s in the way he holds your hand in line at the grocery store, or the way he buys flowers just because he wants to get you some, or the way he fixes dinner to take the load off you, or the way he buys your favorite cereal and hides it from the two youngest.

You two settle back into bed, under the sheets. Your head tucked onto his chest. It’s rare that the house is ever this quiet. The oldest is nineteen and ducked out to a friend’s house for a sleepover. The two youngest at sixteen and thirteen were excited to spend part of their spring break at Grandma Joy’s. It wasn’t ideal, for Calum to still be in California, to have not moved back home to raise his kids. But it worked. They visited Australia at any moment they could. They were well aware of their family and their roots.

Your phone chimes and you have half a mind to ignore it but you know you can’t do that. Before you can push out of bed, Calum’s phone rings too. You know it’s the two youngest probably FaceTiming. Throwing on Calum’s undershirt, you answer the call. Calum turns on the other bedside table. “Hi, Mom!”

“How you doing, stink?” you ask, settling onto the edge of the bed. It’s the youngest on the line.

“Is it night there?” they ask, still dripping in their wetsuit.

“Yeah, it’s pretty late.” Calum reaches out, brushing your back.“Papa Bear’s here too.”

“Hi, Dad!” You hand over the phone and climb back up near the pillows. They run down the details of their day, how they finally caught a wave at the beach. Joy makes sure to note there were instructors. When the phone is passed back to you, Calum holds you to his chest. You settle between his legs, listening to your youngest recount more about their day. Their enthusiasm beams in through the phone.

Calum kisses the top of your head. He’s incredibly lucky. They talk for a few more minutes and then hand the phone over. That conversation with the middle child is a little shorter but they seem pretty content too and soon it’s back to silence. You laying into Calum’s chest, your fingers tracing over his arm and at the gold band on this finger. “I won’t forget that you almost slipped up,” you return.

“I’m an old man that loves his wife, okay? Sue me.”

“Well, I love my old man too. Wait, I mean my well-aged man.” Calum stares at you, lips pursed and you giggle knowing the look on his face. Sometimes, he does wonder if he had really lucked out with you. Though, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

____________

Tagging: @irwinkitten @5-secondsofcolor @glitterlukey

#calum hood #calum hood smut #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos smut #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fanfic #calum 5sos #h writes

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band--psycho · 5 years ago

Text

Negan!Imagine-Part 6

Part 5

A/N-It’s a long one, but I hope you enjoy it!

Third Person POV

Simon headed downstairs, trying to work out what he was going to say to Negan. It didn’t take a genius to realise that he was going to be furious about what happened, and Simon knew all too well he was probably going to get the blame for this. He sighed as he reached the last step, seeing Negan swinging Lucille inftont of the workers.

“Now, get back to fuckin’ work,” Negan shouted, turning away from the group of workers and making his way closer to Simon.

“Thought I asked you to stay with Y/N/N,” he said as he stood infront of Simon. He raised an eyebrow at Simon's face. Negan wasn’t stupid, he knew that something was wrong.

“Simon?” Negan asked, a warning tone lacing his voice, causing Simon to sigh again.

“Tanya, she came to your room,” as soon as those words left Simons a look of rage instantly came across Negans face.

“I tried to stop her, but she just barged-” Simon began, before Negan held in hand up, halting Simon in his words.

“You better hope she’s still in that fucking room,”Negan said before pushing past Simon and making his way to his room. He took a deep breath before entering the room, expecting to be met with a furious Y/N/N, but instead of being met with rage, he was met with an empty room.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling rage boil in his veins.

Y/N/Ns POV

I couldn’t stay in that room, I needed to get out. In all honesty I needed to get out of this place, but it was like a maze. I had no idea where I was going, I just kept walking,or attempting to at least, every step felt like I was getting punched again but the last thing I wanted to do was go back to that room and potentially see Negan.

“Are you lost?” I heard someone ask, I turned round to see a lady with mousy brown hair and a black dress walking towards me. I was going to respond to her, when I remembered the dress that Tanya was wearing..it was the same dress...that when the realization hit me..this was one of Negans wives…

“You’re that girl aren’t you?” She asked, walking closer to me, but I just ignored her and carried on walking, trying not to cry again, but I heard her heels tapping behind me as she followed me.

“Hey,”She said, grabbing my arm lightly, I tried to shake her off but her grip got tighter.

“I just wanna talk, I’m sure you’ve got some questions, and you definitely look like you need to sit down,” she said calmly, as she loosened her grip again, seiding me a small sympathetic smile .

“Follow me,” she said, walking down the hall. Reluctantly, I followed her-it was a choice between following her and getting some answers to the questions I didn’t really want to ask but needed to know the truth about, or wondering around the Sanctuary where I could bump into Negan or Simon (or any of the other unsavory people) at any point. And as much as I hated to admit it, she was right, I needed to sit down. She led me to an empty room not far from where she found me.

“Tanya said Negan had a new girl,” she said as she handed me a drink of water.

“You’re different from us,though” She continued, causing me to send her a confused look.

“He never lets any of us stay in his room,” she said simply, sitting opposite me, I just simply nodded. Not really knowing what to say.

“This must be a lot for you to take in,” I just nodded again at her words, my mind was running through all the questions I wanted to ask her, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask them.

“How do you know him?” She asked, dragging me from my thoughts.

“I...I knew him before the world went to shit,” I replied, taking a sip of my water.

“You two were together?” She asked again, clearly this lady had just as many questions as I did.

“Never anything official,” I answered, sighing as I did.

“How...how do you know him?” I asked, feeling my voice waver as I did.

“He found us, well him and the other Saviours did,” she answered.

“Us?” I questioned.

“My husband and my sister.”

“Your husband?” I asked, only for her to simply nod in response.

“Do you love him, Negan, I mean?” I asked, needing to know the answer but not really wanting to at the same time. She just laughed, causing confusion to once again fill my brain.

“None of us love him, we married him to survive..or to save someone else. I married him to save my husbands life, he stole some medication before leaving with me and my sister...but he found us; I offered to marry him so that he would spare my husbands life. He also offers us protection, so if we can’t fight or work as well as others, we can become a wife and not have to worry about anything,” she explained. I knew Negan had changed a lot but this was something I never expected….he trades protection for sex...I felt my heart break a little as it all sunk in…

“Do you love him?” She asked.

“I...I don’t know..” I answered, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.

“I used to..I used to love him, but then he killed my friends..and now he brings me back here, and I find out he’s got six wives….” I choked out

“I kept trying to see the person I used to know..” I sighed as the tears continued to fall from my eyes, the lady sent me a sympathetic look. Before either of us could say anything else the door burst open and a guy with blonde hair and half a burnt face appeared; I knew him, I think his name was Dwight.

“Sherry, what are you doing?” He asked with his eyes focused on the lady I’d been talking to.

“We were just talking,” Sherry said innocently.

“Negans furious! He’s got everyone looking for her,” Dwight responded, pointing at me. Sherry simply nodded as she stood up and made her way over to me, giving me a quick hug.

“Be careful with him Y/N/N...he’s not the man you used to know…”she whispered in my ear before leaving the room. I followed Dwight back to Negans room, thinking about what Sherry had said...and everything that Negan had done.

“Boss,” Dwight said, knocking on the door, it quickly opened and I swear I heard Negan sigh in relief when he saw me, but I just kept my eyes focused on the ground as I walked into the room, hearing him close the door behind me.

“Y/N/N, just let me-” before he could say anything else, I slapped him, feeling all the pent up rage and hurt come out in it.

“Don’t! Don’t try to explain this Negan!”I shouted, as a look of shock came across his face, trying to process what happened.

“I’m gonna let that fucking slide becuase I know you’re angry,” He said, his voice low, in an almost warning tone.

“Angry? I’m beyond fucking angry Negan!” I shouted, attempting to slap him again, but this time he caught my wrist,holding it lightly.

“Stop,” he warned, releasing my wrist.You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, neither of knowing what to say. I sighed, wincing as I sat down on the sofa. I could feel Negans eyes on me as he sat opposite me.

“I want to go back home,” I said, meeting his gaze.

“Not fucking happening,” Negan scoffed, leaning back into the sofa.

“You can’t keep me here, Negan,” I argued.

“I’m not letting you go back there, not after what fucking happened,” he countered, his voice harsh as he held my gaze.

“I’d rather be there than here,” I said, making my way to the door.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ let you go back there and get killed,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the door.

“It’s not your choice to make,” I replied, wincing as I attempted to move past him. Before I could try again, I felt his hands on both of my shoulders.

“You almost fucking died there,” he whispered, staring at me, his eyes softer now.

“When I found you, the place looked like a fuckin’ murder scene, you looked dead...for a second I thought you...I thought you fucking were,”he continued, moving his hands slowly and lightly to my cheeks.

“I fucked up by not telling you; but that was only because I was scared of this, of losing you again,” he said, placing our foreheads together.

“I trusted you...I thought maybe, just maybe there was some of the man that I fell in love with still in there,” I said, moving out his grasp, slowly.

“I loved you,” I whispered, feeling the tears cascade down my cheeks.

“You think I don’t feel the fucking same! I have never felt this way with anyone else since this shit began!”He shouted, walking closer to me

“I married them to show these fuckers who’s in charge and to feel something other than the shit this world makes me feel; I don’t even see their faces because there’s only person I’m thinking about when I’m inside someone,” and before I could say anything, he grabbed my face and kissed me passionately, and I without even realizing it, I was kissing him back.

“You’re the only person I give a shit about in this fucked up world,” he whispered against my lips.

“We’re not the same people anymore, Negan.” I countered, trying to keep hold of reality instead of letting my fantasies run away with me. Before anything else could be said, we heard gunshots coming from outside.

“Stay here, we’ll sort this out once I’ve dealt with this shit,” he said before leaving the room, locking the door behind him.

Part 7

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