#your future wife could be in those notifications you know

[squidsinashirt]

Now that is just mean. Poor TracyOne. And you’re going to mock me? When I’m already a sad little squid? 🥺 you’re going to mock my heartache? For shame, Scott Tracy, for shame.

Well that’s just not particularly encouraging me leaving this hangar, is it? Maybe I’ll just sleep in the jet… with the door locked…

Your favourite photo of the last month? 🥰

This was actually a really awesome swim and is really cool shot showing the light refraction but it also features the request of no less than 42 of my ask inbox because ‘you post V thirst but not S’ so…

Have at it, hellsite. You all owe me at least ten bucks each. I’ll waive the fee if you marry him and take him off my hands though 😏

[pankowcrumbs]

Got That Out of Your System, Princess? x Harry Styles

MasterList

Harry Styles Masterlist

I’d like to think that I’m not the type of person who holds a grudge.

But when Harry and I had a petty little argument one of those stupid ones where neither of us could remember what we were even actually arguing about I found myself feeling a little... spiteful.

Not in a serious way. Just in a maybe I’ll cause a little chaos way.

Harry was overseas doing press interviews, and I was back home, stewing in my own irrational irritation. It wasn’t even a real fight. Something about whether or not he should’ve texted me or called me when he arrived at the hotel. I had been worried when I hadn't heard back but he was tired and It was stupid.

But still, my pride wouldn’t let me drop it.

So, I did the most ridiculous, over-the-top thing I could think of I took his credit card he gave me for emergencies and went on a spending spree from hell.

If he was going to make me feel petty, I was going to make him pay for it. Literally.

First, I strolled into a high-end boutique, the kind where the employees give you a once-over to decide whether you belong there. I had Harry Styles’ black Amex in my hand I belonged.

£50,000 later, I had bags full of entirely unnecessary designer clothes.

Then, I wandered into a car dealership and test-drove the most obnoxious luxury vehicle I could find. Sleek, fast, completely impractical.

“Would you like to discuss financing?” the salesman asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

I smiled sweetly. “Oh, no need. I’ll pay in full.”

That was another £100,000.

And finally, the pièce de résistance I bought a horse.

A real-life horse.

Do I know how to ride a horse? No.

Do I own any land or a stable? Also, no.

Did that stop me from dropping £10,000 on the most majestic looking stallion I could find? Absolutely not.

Petty? Yes.

Justified? Also yes.

By the time I got home, I was buzzing with the thrill of my absolutely ridiculous spending spree.

I had no idea how Harry was going to react. Maybe he’d be mad. Maybe he’d be so confused that he’d forget he was supposed to be annoyed at me.

Either way, I felt very pleased with myself.

Meanwhile…

Harry was finishing up an interview when his phone started vibrating relentlessly in his pocket.

He ignored it at first, but when he checked his notifications and saw five missed calls from his accountant, he knew something was up.

As soon as he was out of the studio, he called back, bracing himself for whatever financial catastrophe was awaiting him.

“Harry, mate, I have to ask are you okay?” his accountant’s voice was practically breathless with panic.

Harry frowned. “Yeah? Why?”

“Because there are outrageous charges on your account! Did you buy a £100,000 car today?”

Harry blinked. “...No.”

“Right. Did you spend £50,000 on clothes?”

Harry smirked, already catching on. “Nope.”

There was a long, exhausted sigh on the other end of the line. “And please, for the love of God, tell me you did not order a purebred racing horse.”

At that, Harry let out a loud, full-bodied laugh.

“Ahh,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’ll be my future wife throwing a tantrum.”

The accountant spluttered. “Harry, she bought a horse.”

He laughed again, running a hand through his curls. “Yeah, she’s a dramatic little thing, isn’t she?”

There was a beat of silence before the accountant sighed again, utterly defeated.

“So, what do you want me to do?”

Harry grinned. “Let her charge whatever she wants.”

“You do realise she spent a ridiculous amount of money, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry said, still thoroughly amused. “Actually, could you sort out a stable for that damn horse while you’re at it?”

His accountant made a noise like he was about to quit on the spot.

Harry was still chuckling as he hung up and immediately dialled my number.

When my phone rang and I saw Harry’s name, I hesitated for a split second.

Then I answered.

“Got that out of your system, princess?”

I winced slightly. “You, um... noticed?”

Harry barked out a laugh. “Oh, I noticed. My accountant nearly had a heart attack.”

I bit my lip, feeling a little guilty. “I may have gone... slightly overboard.”

“Oh, slightly, yeah?” he teased, still entirely unbothered. “You spent six figures just to prove a point, love.”

I groaned, flopping onto the bed. “I was just being stubborn! You know I never spend your money, and I...I just wanted to be petty!”

“I know,” he said, warmth in his voice. “And honestly? It was hilarious.”

I blinked. “Wait... you’re not mad?”

Harry snorted. “Mad? Sweetheart, you just threw the most expensive tantrum I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s iconic.”

I let out a breathy laugh, feeling my tension ease. “I am sorry, though.”

“I know you are.”

I hesitated. “You really don’t care?”

“Not in the slightest,” he promised. “You could’ve bought ten horses and I’d still just be here thinking about how much I love you.”

My heart fluttered at that. “I love you too.”

“Good,” he said softly. “Now, about this horse...”

I groaned. “Yeah... about that...”

“Darling, where are you even planning to keep it?”

I bit my lip. “Is your accountant’s handling that?.”

Harry laughed again, long and hard. “Of course he is.”

There was a pause before he added, “You do realise this means you’re coming horse-riding with me now, right?”

My eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Harry smirked. “Oh, you think you can just buy a horse and not ride it? Nah, love, we’re gonna be equestrian professionals by the end of this.”

I groaned, but I was smiling like an idiot. “You’re impossible.”

“And you are the most dramatic, expensive little menace I’ve ever had the pleasure of loving.”

I laughed. “That’s me.”

He chuckled again, voice low and affectionate. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll be home soon.”

And just like that, everything was right again.

I sighed happily. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, my insanely expensive princess.”

Two weeks later, I found myself at a stable, standing in front of my very expensive, very large, very real horse.

Harry stood beside me, grinning from ear to ear.

“So,” he said, nudging me. “Shall we go for a ride?”

I turned to him, utterly deadpan. “I hate you.”

He just laughed, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and whispered, “Love you too, sweetheart.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Love Game 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.

Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen

Note: I did this because I could.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'You ready?' 

A tingle accompanies the text. Your stomach tosses and turns at the thought. You think you're ready. As ready as you can be. It's all so new to you. 

You hover your finger over the automated reply suggested by the OS. You tap on 'yes', too shaky to type it yourself. You're not scared, just nervous. 

When Andy first brought up the idea, you laughed. It was so absurd. Silly really. 

You remember how the look he gave you was like hands on your throat. The hurt with an edge of agitation strangled away your laughter. You apologised and asked him if you heard him right. Then he explained and it made sense. Kind of. 

'If we're going to get married, we need to keep the flame alive,' your fiance said as you stirred the contents of a pan with a spatula. 'Trust me, I know. A dead bedroom can kill everything else.' 

You frown at the memory. You hate when he mentions his first wife. He's engaged to you now. You're not her. Besides, things are pretty good. That's why you laughed. There was nothing bland to spice up. At least, you hadn't thought so. 

'You know the plan?' He texts. Always thorough, if not persistent. 

'I think' you type as you squeeze your phone tighter then think better of the reply. You backspace. Remember the plan. 'Yes, sir.' 

You blow out between your lip and put the phone on the counter. You look in the mirror and pick up the bottle of moisturizer, smearing it over your face. Half the day you've spent prepping yourself. Everything has to be perfect. Andy is always certain of that. 

You snap the cap shut and peruse the rest of the basket. He thought of everything. New soaps, wax, perfume, and all sorts of goodies. You didn't need it all but he insisted. 

Everything about Andy Barber is pristine and tidy. His house not least of his carefully curated existence. So it is that you often feel as if you don't quite fit it, even when he tells you the opposite. 

Your phone vibes and you look down at the screen as the notification flashes, 'good girl.' 

Your lashes bat and you giggle thinly. You've never done anything like this. You struggle to get a precise grip on the tweezers and have to still your hand with the other. This is wild! 

You rub your thighs together and strike hotter the flame of your anticipation. As much as the whole thing has you uncertain, it has you alight. You steady yourself and lean into the mirror, just a few stray hairs. It shouldn't matter, it'll be dark, right? 

Your phone goes again. You pull back and glance down. You trade the tweezers for the cell and press your lips together. 

'Did you find your surprise?' 

You look up and search your expression. Surprise? You lower your brow and peer around the bathroom. There's more? 

'Bedroom' his next message comes bluntly. 

You chew your lip and leave the mirror behind. You go down to the main bedroom and ease through the door. The room still smells of his cologne. The whole place is drenched in him, meanwhile most people wouldn't guess at a glance that you lived there too. 

You see it on the bed. White silk and lace. The lingerie is sheer enough that you may as well forego it. You near and touch the scalloped hem. You know it must be expensive, funny how so little fabric can be worth so much. 

You step back and take a picture. You send it to Andy and wait, your thumb between your teeth. He replies. 

'Put it on.' 

His blunt orders add to the thrum coursing through you already. It seems he's already in character. You need to get yourself together and do your part. 

'Yes, sir.' 

You set the phone on the corner of the mattress and trade your bathroom for the lingerie. The thong, while high-waisted has you on full display. Not ass, no crotch, just lace straps that trim your thighs and bottom. The top is an open teddy with cups that do nothing to censor your pert nipples. Just wearing it sends a thrill through you. 

You take the phone and return to the bathroom. You use the full-length mirror to frame your reflection with the lens. You snap a few pics and sift through for the best one. You hesitate before you tap the little arrow. You're a mess of paranoia and lust; you shouldn't send photos like this and yet you can't help yourself. 

You wait for his reply. Wait and wait and wait. You have to stop yourself from staring at the phone, knowing that your hyperfocus will only slow time. You cross to the counter and place the phone near the edge. 

Your attention is drawn to the sheer fabric acrosd your chest. You can't suppress the moan that leaks from you. You can feel how excited you already are but your eagerness might just get in the way of the whole thing. 

You sigh and the buzz draws you back from your anxiety. You read the message, almost disappointed. 

'Midnight.' 

That's it. That's all he has to say. Was the pic not good enough? Is this part of the roleplay? You don't know. 

As ever, Andy has you guessing at what he really wants. Hopefully this time, you get it right. 

💕

10:47pm. You’re wired. You’re trying to settle down. You have freshly laundered bedding and a glass of wine; all the perfect ingredients to lull you to sleep. That’s all you need to do. Fall asleep. 

Yet knowing what’s coming won’t let your mind stop. Ugh, your heart is racing again. You need to finish the wine. You push yourself up and have another gulp. You lay in the glow of your phone, a Get Ready With Me playing on low volume. Usually this all works. 

Not tonight. You’re too buzzy. Too frazzled. Too eager! 

You empty the glass and lay back down. You were generous, filling the wide body of the glass to the halfway point. At least two regular glasses worth.  

Your head meets the pillow and you start to feel it. The acidic burn spreads through your veins and you sink into the soft sheets. You turn your head to watch the small screen of your phone, vision slowly hazing as the contoured woman applies her lip liner expertly. 

Your eyelids cling and start to itch. Your heady is swishy, your tummy too, and your limbs weaken. It’s working. You try not to think too much about it, not wanting to counteract the alcohol with your self-awareness. 

You roll onto your side and drift into a half-conscious daze. Your brain swirls and your blood burns hot. Your breathing slows and piques only when your rouse, glancing at your phone as a new video plays. The time stamps into your vision; 11:25. 

You curl your shoulders inward, more tired than anxious now, and slip back into your tipsy stupour. The screen is just a glow on the other side of your eyelids and the audio a scratch in your ears. It fades beneath the even ebb and flow of your quiet snores. 

As the light fades out and the sound dwindles to nothing but the still of night, you wake again. Your eyes open to the darkness. You’re alone. Confused. 

You feel around on the bed for your phone. It must have timed out or the battery died. You don’t find it. Instead, your wrist is trapped in a strong grip and dragged away from the duvet. You gasp and remember what’s going on. It’s starting. He’s there. 

“Ah, ah,” comes the grizzled tut as your other arm is seized and your hands are brought together above your head. 

Andy’s shadowy figure straddles you, pinning you to the mattress as you squirm. You let out a squeak and he hushes you. You still and arch your back, trying to push your chest up. 

“Please, who are you?” You whine, doing your best to play into the scenario. “Please, my husband will be home soon--” 

He shushes you again, holding your wrists together as he leans back to reach behind him. You can hardly see through the dark and your foggy tipsiness. The curtains have been drawn, obscuring the room to fuzzy lines and pulsing shadows. 

He hooks something around your arm; a leather cuff, then secures your other wrist. He keeps your arms up and reaches behind the mattress. He attaches the wring between the cuffs to some unseen hook. Where did that come from? 

You writhe as he stares down at you. You squint back at him, trying to see through the dim. Something feels off. He’s so quiet and forceful. It must be part of the roleplay but it just doesn’t feel like him. He feels like a stranger. 

He backs off of you, peeling back the duvet to drop it on the floor. He prowls along the foot of the bed and you kick your feet, whimpering as you strain against the cuffs. You keep forgetting it’s a game. You have to play your part too. 

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you beg. 

There’s no answer. Andy continues to pace, back and forth, back and forth. He's really transformed. Where he would usually have his hands on his hips, he has them folded behind him, shoulders squared, his steps lighter. 

He stops and lets out a willowy rasp. He unzips his jacket, slipping off the sleeves slowly, deliberately. You lift your head as you try to see him clearer. Did he change? He must have dressed up too. 

Then he pulls his shirt over his head and huffs out again, a growl catching in his throat. He drops the shirt with his jacket and the duvet. Andy never leaves a garment outside the closet or hamper but this isn’t Andy, remember? This is an intruder! And you’re the helpless housewife. 

You nearly moan at the thought. Something about it is so hot even if it makes you a bit squidgy too. You tug again on your wrists as you hear his zipper slice through the din. 

“Please--” you beg. 

He kicks the footboard and the loud bang silences you. You can’t help the pathetic noise that trickles from your tongue and you swallow. He’s doing good. It feels so real. 

He continues to undress. Your heartbeat picks up as you wait for him to really start. He bends to pick something up then climbs over the footboard onto the bed. For a moment, you wince. His silhouette is slimmer. Or seems so. The difference is so minuscule it might be your wine-laced brain playing tricks. 

He catches your kicking feet and pushes your legs wide. He trails his hands up them, a piece of fabric tickling beneath his left palm, and firmly hooks them around him as he moves between them. He stops at your pelvis, his rigid length hovering over you. He stretches the black cloth across your eyes, blotting out what little sight you have. He knots the band behind your head and you gasp. 

He traces along your cheeks and your jawline, as if he can see you through the dark, as if he’s learning you by touch. His fingertips dance down your throat and across your shoulders. You feel fragile as he toys with the strap of the lingerie and feels along the flimsy cups, circling his thumbs around your nipples as they pebble beneath the sheer silk. 

He gropes you and growls. The noise is guttural and raw. It flutters into your core and has you twitching. He pushes his knees against your cunt, moving so the friction flurries in your clit. You babble and raise your chest, hungry for his touch. 

He flicks your nipples and his hands crawl onward, down your torso, doting on the soft flesh of your stomach, and framing your hips as he draws back on his knees. He snarls and bends over you, bowing as he grips you tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you whine as you feel his hot breath against your folds. 

He nuzzles along the edges of the panties, growling as he does, squeezing your harder, then at once, buries his nose in your cunt. He wiggles his head and drags the tip of his nose up over your clit and swipes his tongue up to further set you aflame. You moan and curve your back, planting your heels as you urge him on. 

He delves into you, lapping and licking, suckling and swirling. His arm reaches up and he kneads your chest, blindly pulling the lingerie under one tis. He pinches as you cry out and he rolls your clit between his teeth. You puff out shallow breaths, swept up in the sensations. 

This is so different. Unlike he’s ever been before. He’s almost feral in how he touches you, how he feels you, how it seems he wants to consume you. There’s something else different, something strange you can’t place.  

Did he shave? You can’t tell, It must be the wine. His cheeks feel bare against your thighs and yet you swear you feel that scratchy tickle against your cunt. You don’t think about it; it’s all too much to focus. 

You squeal as you cum, spasming into his face as he drinks up your orgasm. You’re heaving and hollow as he doesn’t let up. He laps at you until you’re begging him to stop. Until you’re quaking, nearly sobbing in overwrought pleasure. Until you have a second, a third, and a fourth. 

Your slickness smears over his face and across your thighs. As he parts, his breath is humid, and you can smell the sweet scent of your release. You shiver as he raises himself up and the bed jostles. He snarls and slaps your thighs, squeezing until you whimper. 

He shifts and slides a hand under your leg. He flips you onto your stomach so your arms twist and your face is buried in the pillow. You pant into the linen as he smacks your ass with both hands and growls as he fondles you. You murmur as his touch sends tendrils down your legs and up your back. 

He grips your hips once more and raises your ass. Oh my god. It’s only a few times you’ve done it like this, often Andy prefers you on your back. He says he likes to see you.  

He pulls you back against him, his length resting between your cheeks as he bends over you. He inhales the scent of your hair and snarls against your crown. He reaches down to feel between your legs, spreading your swollen cunt as he angles his hips. 

His tip slips down and he uses his fingertips to guide it to your entrance. You’re so wet he slips right in. He sounds just as surprised as he gasps. He sinks into your limit and you whine. He retracts his arm, hooking it around your neck, and thrusts. 

You squeal as he buries himself even deeper. He does it again; harder. It hurts. You croak and press your chin down into his arm. You feel a ripple of fear. His chest feels... bare. Andy has that trim of fur that you like to play with. Maybe he got rid of it? For the roleplay? 

He snaps his hips again, staying deep before slowly rearing back. He pauses, then bucks again. The impact of his pelvis on your ass is painful and he’s hitting your cervix. 

“Ow, Andy--” 

“Quiet,” he grits in a deep sneer and brings his other hand up to smother your mouth. 

He leans his weight on you, your neck and shoulders aching from the angle of your spine. He dips into you again, again, again. Each pause between grows shorter as he tilts into a full rut. The entire bed shakes with his motion. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and curl your fingers into your palms, the cuffs slowing your circulation. You huff into his hand as he continues his rampant fucking, skin slapping, bones aching. Harder, deeper, faster, until you’re delirious. 

“What’s your husband going to think when he comes home to his wife being fucked like a slut?” He rasps and nibbles your ear, “huh? How’s he gonna compare to this, baby? Your husband can’t fuck like me can he?”  

He taunts and you cringe. You don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun. You don’t want him to be this man. To be this rough and rude. You want him to be Andy. You try to say his name again but only taste the salt of his palm. 

“Keep your mouth shut, slut,” he sinks into his limit and stays there, his voice echoing in your head. His tone is just... off. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[rockybloo]

Singer x Listener Licorice AU.

Amara likes Bitterbat's music and has been a listener for awhile and manages to win front row seats to a concert of his by sheer luck (because his seats are always sold out).

Bitterbat, while performing on stage, goes to have one of those audience interactions you see singers do occasionally with people that are super close to the front to the point of being able to get high fives.

By absolutely chance, he and Amara lock eyes. She is ecstatic to have a singer she really enjoys perceive her but Bitterbat has just fell in love and planned their whole life together within 5 seconds.

But the show must go on and he's got a whole concert to finish but you bet your ass he is stealing glances at her. ESPECIALLY when he has to perform some of his sultry love songs.

Amara will think she's just imagining things whenever she catches him looking in her direction and sees him lock on her. And she can't help but feel the songs are suddenly different than they were in the beginning of the concert, before Bitterbat noticed her.

It's almost as though he's directing them toward her now, especially with how she feels like there's some kind of spotlight on her.

But this is the first concert she's ever attended so she figures this is just how front row seats normally feel.

Amara has no idea Bitterbat is brainstorming ways to somehow get her number or social media after he gets off stage. ANYTHING that will make sure she doesn't disappear from him in the sea of fans he's got.

She is completely oblivious to the fact that her tickets don't also come with backstage access or the promise of a selfie with the singer. That was all a lie that Bitterbat spun and got people to tell her so he could have some 1-on-1 time with her.

Thing were kept professional - Bitterbat kept his smooth singer act up and left a great first impression on his newfound favorite fan (and future wife). He couldn't get as much information out of her as he would have liked but he knew if he pressed too hard, he might scare her off. And that was def something he didn't want with the way she seemed to glow from head to toe over being able to meet him.

The interaction was shorter than he'd like, even though Amara thought it was much longer than she would have expected a singer meet to go. The meeting is ended with a selfie between the two and Bitterbat feels like the luckiest guy on Earth for the 2 minutes it takes for them to get a picture together.

And he feels even luckier that night when, while back in his hotel room, after endlessly scrolling through all the tagged notifications on his social media from fans who attended his concert, he finally finds her.

Amara's tagged selfie, with a mere 5 likes, and 2 repost.

A wide grin comes to his face as he increases the likes to 6 and reposts the picture.

Amara's phone blows up with interactions. Many calling her lucky, others freaking out over how happy Bitterbat looks in her picture. The one thing that grabs Amara's attention the most is the comment Bitterbat left underneath their picture.

"Being able to perform for such wonderful fans truly makes me feel like the luckiest guy on earth! Thank you for coming to see me, Sweetheart~😘"

She blushes as she reads the sentences over and over again. She lets out a squeal or two as she speed walks around her room freaking out over Bitterbat's comment. It takes her a bit to calm down her racing heart as she collapses on her bed, reminding herself that he was just being nice. All celebrities are overly sweet with their fans. However, when she notices he's now following her, the squeals and fangirling kicks right back up again.

Meanwhile, Bitterbat is scrolling through her page, learning all there is to know about her like her favorite places to eat out at, her favorite series, even her favorite song of his.

Speaking of songs, he's even working on a brand new album inspired by her. He's already thinking up all the fan meet-and-greets and events he could attend while in her home city. He's even prepared to DM her with tickets to all his future concerts. HELL he's ready to DM her in general just to talk to her again and learn all about her.

The bat no longer desires to sing solo after finding someone to do a duet with.

[asphalt-cocktail]

Lead us to Temptation- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Precious Lord Take my Hand

Summary: In the small town of Eden Ridge, you knew several things to be true: church happened every Sunday, the saloon served free lunch with the purchase of a drink on Thursdays, coal miners left work at 7PM sharp, and Bucky Barnes was a man sent from the depths of hell dangling the threat of temptation and sin right in front of your face. All you need to do is reach out and grab it.

A/N: As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are immensely appreciated. There will be no tag list because I am far too lazy to do that, but feel free to turn on notifications for me or bookmark it on AO3 where it will also be posted per usual.

Pairing: Outlaw!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Nicknames, religious themes, suggestive language, profanity, pining, mentions of criminal activity, period typical misogyny, physical fighting, mentions of alcohol and gambling

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist

Read me on AO3

There were a handful of things you could always count on happening in Eden Ridge: the saloon having a free lunch every Thursday with the purchase of a drink, church every Sunday, the coal miners leaving the mines at 7PM sharp, and that springtime would bring a sloppy muddy mess. When your family set out westward you stopped about halfway to Oregon and found your home in the town of Eden Ridge, named after the Eden Ridge Mountains which served as the beating heart for the small but quickly growing town.

The hills were full of coal and iron which your father proudly exploited along with the good hard working people of Eden. He controlled the mineral exports and the main work force in town. The hills acted as a hungry maw, devouring the hopes, dreams, and even bodies of the coal miners that dug down to the depths of hell just to keep your father’s pockets fat. It was the only town where the sunset was painted with a harrowing combination of orange and gray and where the air was so heavy with coal dust you could taste it.

Once your older brother was of age he quickly found a wife and married off, having two kids in the blink of an eye. It was common knowledge that your brother was the heir to the Eden Coal & Iron company, but only after he did his time laboring in the bowels of the Earth

The coal mines weren’t the place for a lady, so you didn't know much beyond the fact that your father was the owner and employed 90% of the town. You liked it that way, it kept you cleaner than your brother. You saw how filthy he was when he came back from a long day under the mountain, skin so blackened by coal and filth his eyes and teeth seemed to glow even though the hills stole the light away from them. But your father wasn't going to let your brother become some pencil pushing fancy boy if he could help it. If your daddy had to do his time in the mines, so did anyone who wanted to take over his business. It garnered respect from the laborers and it helped your brother get a glimpse of the bigger picture when it came to a business like this.

Your brother’s future was clear as crystal, but yours was always a frequent topic of discussion. Who were you going to marry being the number one. Since you were the ripe age of 25 your mother spent most of her time about town talking with the other wives and figuring out who the most eligible bachelor was. She told you not to worry, because she had a list made that you could take your pick from. You’d long since thrown away your dreams of traveling and leaving Eden Ridge, those were the dreams of a little girl, and mama always said dreaming was unholy. God gave you what you needed, nothing more, nothing less. So, you best be grateful for it. The older you grew, the more you questioned that statement. There was no way that your father needed to control the coal and iron exports in town. 

Your boots slapped against the wet, gray, mud as you walked through the town. You were grateful that your mother hemmed your skirt a couple of inches shorter than normal to try and help keep your dress clean and prevent it from dragging in the wet earth. 

Outside of the saloon a large group of people gathered right where you needed to walk through. You frowned, the closer you got the more you could tell how rowdy the crowd was and the closer you got the easier it became to see the two men fighting in the street. 

“You lying little snake.” One said swinging and punching the dark haired man in the jaw. 

James Buchanan Barnes. 

Of course he was the one getting his face rocked in the middle of the muddy street. You often wondered if he was the devil incarnate, a handsome sweet talking man brought up from the depths of hell to tempt you into sinning. It took all your strength not to give in and see what else his mouth could do if you just simply let him. For the last two months he’d taken every approach in the book to get you to go out to dinner with him and each time you shut him down. 

Hard.

He was relentless though, stubborn, insisted that he’d treat you good if you just let him and by God you knew he would. He’d been in town for a short but annoying two months and seemed to have quite the reputation with the ladies. If you had to hear one more woman giggle and go “Hi Bucky.” while wiggling her fingers you were going to be the next one kicking Bucky’s ass in the street God help you.

Bucky staggered, shaking his head, trying to unscramble his brains, his cheek was red and already beginning to swell from the blow “I’m a lot of things but I ain’t no damn snake.” He hissed back at the bald man, Tomas. 

“One of your little buddies was telling you what my cards were, I just know it.” Tomas yelled, tackling Bucky to the ground. The worst part was that one of them probably was helping Bucky cheat at cards. Anyone with a pair of brain cells knew he famously cheated at all card games, but Tomas famously lacked brain cells.

They struggled for a moment on the ground before Bucky got leverage, flipping the two over and sitting on top of the other man’s chest, “I told you I’m not a cheat.” He said, punching Tomas in the face, emphasizing each of his words as he spoke. 

Someone pushed through the crowd, Steve, one of his buddies, and grabbed him, “That’s enough Buck.” He spoke harshly, pulling his muddy friend off the unconscious Tomas, “Can we please go into town and not get arrested for once?” The blond grabbed Bucky by the back of his soiled light red button down similar to how a mother cat would carry a kitten by its scruff and shoved him down to walk towards their horses. 

You looked in the muck and saw a worn out, sun beaten hat discarded. You picked it up and looked over at the roughneck then back to the hat

“Excuse me!” You call after the pair, “Mr. Barnes!” 

Bucky turned, immediately recognizing your voice and grinned. It was truly blasphemous how handsome he looked despite the bruised cheek, cuts and dried blood, and black eye starting to form. The beat up look seemed to suit someone like him. “You know, we have got to stop meeting like this sugar.”

“I think you need to stop fist fighting before the sun has barely set.” You couldn't help but return the smile, it was contagious like the plague.

Gingerly, he took the hat from you and brushed some of the mud from his hat before putting it on and wiping his hands clean on his soiled jeans, “I was fighting for my honor!” He completely ignored Steve, following you instead as you began to walk off.

You scoffed, “Honor, sure…” you mumbled, “was someone telling you what the cards were?” 

Bucky grinned proudly, “Of course, Sam always helps me when we play cards.” 

“There is a special circle in hell for liars and cheaters, Mr. Barnes.” 

“Sweetheart I’ve done much worse than lie and cheat, I think I’ll be forgiven for this one.” He statement sounded dismissive and you didn't doubt that wasn't true for a second. There was something mysterious about Bucky Barnes and the crew he ran with. You never could quite figure out what he did for work or what his source of income was, but you figured it was A: impolite to ask and B: not something you wanted to have any part of. “When are you going to let me take you to dinner?” Bucky almost whined, grabbing your hand and stopping you. 

You turned, yanking your hand out of his grasp “When I’m dead.” 

Bucky groaned in annoyance, “I’d treat you so good sweetheart, better than any of these other guys around town.” He reached out for your hand again. This was a talk the two of you had at least twice a week for the last two months, three times if you were extra unlucky.

“I can’t.” Bucky Barnes was the type of man fathers warned their daughters about, and boy did your father have a rather strong warning when it came to Mr. Barnes. “My Daddy warned me to stay away from men like you. A roughneck like you brings nothing but trouble to a good girl’s life.”

“Sweetheart, your daddy has no idea the type of man I am, trust me.” He stepped in front of you, stopping you from walking, “Just humor me and let me take you to dinner, no funny business, promise.” He put his hands on your hips, “How’s about tomorrow, I take you to dinner in the next town over. That way you don’t need to worry about any prying eyes from these nosey folks.” 

Bucky was serving your words to you on a supper plate and gave you a fork to eat them. You told yourself, just this once, and maybe that would get him off your back. Maybe he would go bother some other poor girl. But the thought of that kind of pissed you off, you didn't need to look deep down to know that you enjoyed the little game the two of you played. “No funny business?” All you needed was one little taste, nothing more.

“No funny business.” Bucky echoed you, nodding his head.

It didn't sound so bad going and grabbing dinner in the next town over. Thunder Creek was a lovely area, great food, great music, no one from Eden Ridge to run and tell your family you were out with the local drifter, “How about you ask me once your face doesn’t look such a mess.”

Bucky beamed at you, “Deal.” 

The next time you saw Bucky, almost a full week had passed. His face had healed nicely; the big purple bruise under his eye was now a yellowish color, and the cut along his nose and cheek had scabbed over and shrank. “Have you thought about my offer, dear?” He asked, leaning on the hitching post as you readied your horse. He looked like a stray dog seated in front of a plate of steak, hungry and ready to devour like Saturn himself.

It distracted you, caught you off guard even, “What? About dinner?” You licked your lips nervously and couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze again “Yes, I’m free tomorrow evening. I’ll meet you at the train station at 3 and we can ride over” 

He looked victorious, like he’d won a marathon, like he’d just been told God had saved him a spot in heaven, “3 o’clock at the train station.” He repeated back to let you know he heard and he would be there.

You weren’t shocked to see Bucky already waiting on a bench at the train depot at 3pm sharp just like you’d asked. What shocked you was the fact that you’d managed to travel the two hours to the next town over and have a nice sit down meal with him, all without him making a single pass at you. He made small talk, asking you about your horse and how long you had him for, asking you your favorite books, your life before moving out here, your fathers mining company. He picked your brain and devoured every piece of information you gave him, listening actively and intently.

You learned a lot about him as well. Bucky was 10 years older than you and hailed from New York, which explained his odd hybrid accent. He fought in the civil war as a boy some 20 years ago for the union which was where he met Steve, John, and Sam then they managed to pick up Peter along the way. He called him and his troupe ‘traveling workers’, they went from town to town doing odd jobs and when those ran out or they overstayed their welcome they left, moving on to the next town. 

What he didn’t tell you was that he was a wanted man in 3 states, his traveling work consisted of robbing banks and trains, rustling cattle, and stealing horses, with a small dash of bounty hunting, and a big dash of murder. Sure there was some good honest work sprinkled in there to help keep his conscience clean but it was mostly crime. 

He’d originally come to town to rob the local bank, since Eden Ridge was on the up and up, which meant lots of people came here with lots of money to start a new life and those rich assholes needed somewhere to store it all. His plan was to steal most of the money and use it to finance his next run to the next town and help pay off some of the minor bounties tied to his boys’ heads, but you were a bit of a distraction from his original plan 

It almost made him not want to go through with it.  

Almost. 

Bucky liked you, he liked your soft curves, how you somehow managed to never have a speck of mud on your dress, he liked how sassy you got with him, like when you told him you hoped his horse would drop dead after he flicked mud in your face, and he liked the pretty white lace prayer veil you wore to church every Sunday. He wanted to marry you, come home to you wearing a little apron cooking dinner with a child on your hip. With HIS child on your hip. God the thought of making you his wife drove him near feral. 

There was an added bonus to how pissed off it would make your no good crook of a father that made Bucky want to do it even more. 

But, since a man was only as good as his word, he stayed true to his no funny business promise and only took you to dinner. You hated that he was a perfect gentleman and actually made you feel nice and cared for. You had no doubt that this was how he was able to get the other girls in town wrapped around his finger. 

“You gonna let me walk you to church on Sunday too?” Bucky asked, grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary. He knew all the right things to say to you much to your chagrin. 

You chewed your lip nervously, your father would not like it if he saw Bucky walking you to church and you knew that to be truer than the word of God itself. But, He had been such a perfect gentleman at your little dinner date, “Fine. But you can’t sit with us for the mass, my parents don’t like you.” You didn’t care if what you said hurt his feelings, it was true and you wanted to be kind enough to spare him the judgemental gaze of your father while Father Liska spoke the word of God, “And you have to sit through the mass and walk me home after.”

“Ok, deal.” Bucky grinned, a win was a win after all.

Bucky was more nervous about stepping foot into a church than he was to walk you there. Women he could handle, religion… well not so much. He half expected to burst into flames the moment he stepped foot into the holy threshold. He swapped out the filth covered denim for his best set of trousers and wore his nicest button up, just for you. 

You didn’t have to worry about the prying eyes of your family when he came to your home to pick you up for your short little walk. Bucky greeted you at the door, you had to admit he cleaned up nicely, “You look nice, sugar.” Bucky reached up and and touched the scalloped edge of your mantilla, rubbing the delicate lace between his rough fingers. 

You swatted his hand away, “Don’t touch that.” You hissed and adjusted the head covering. 

Bucky reached out his hand for you to hold, begrudgingly, you took it, “Are we going to get dinner again sweets?” He tried to act coy by not looking at you, but you knew. He didn’t spend two months practically begging at your feet for dinner only to maybe want a second one. 

You gave him an inch and he was going to take a mile. Maybe even two miles if he was feeling extra bold. 

Bucky held the large wooden doors of the church open for you. He was flooded with the overwhelming scent of frankincense as he entered the church. It has been years since he’d set place in a place of worship. Maybe communing with god would be good for him. You looked uncomfortable under the watchful eyes of people kneeling, your presence disrupting their pre service prayers. 

You dipped your fingers into the holy water and crossed yourself, holding your head high. Oh, they were going to have a lot to talk about at their weekly bible studies. You, showing up with a man to church? Well that was going to be the talk of the congregation, hell, it was going to be the talk of the town! 

Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze before he dropped it, suddenly feeling the watchful eye of the Lord upon him. He gave you a polite nod and you almost wished you didn't tell him to sit elsewhere because now you had to walk down the aisle to the front of the room while everyone stared.

Your mother looked at you and you chose to ignore her until she leaned over and tugged at the sleeve of your dress, “What is all that about?” She said and nodded back towards Bucky. 

He looked uncomfortable, like a bull in a china shop, sitting stiffly next to the Barton family. If he managed to sit through Sunday mass it would definitely get him bonus points and another dinner, “Nothing Mother.” You knew you were going to have to answer her poking and prodding after the service. 

Father Liska finished the sermon and it took all your strength to not book it out of the church. You waited, ambushed by your mother who wanted to play twenty questions about Bucky. The number one being: do you think you’ll marry him? She loved to emphasize that you were a bit too bold and men didn’t like it when you told them to drop dead or that you’d rather walk across hot coals than meet with them. She would probably die early of a broken heart if you became a spinster. 

“Please mother, we’ve only gotten dinner once and today I let him walk me to church. It’s nothing serious.” You hissed and hushed her once you saw Bucky walking over.

“Everything is serious when it comes to courting, dear.” Your mother reminded you. Marrying you off was serious business and she in some ways was your manager. “Mr. Barnes.” Your mother greeted him, almost breathlessly and offered her hand to him, “It's such a pleasure to meet you, thank you so much for accompanying our daughter to mass today.” 

Bucky bent, kissing your mothers knuckles, you rolled your eyes at the display of chivalry, “It was truly my pleasure ma’am.” Of course mothers loved Bucky Barnes, why wouldn’t they? He was the type of man mothers loved and the type of man fathers warned their daughters about.

“I can’t believe you made him sit all the way in the back,” your mother chastised you, blushing after Bucky kissed her hand, “ Mr. Barnes dear, near Sunday please sit with us, we’ve got the best spot in the congregation.” 

“Well Daddy doesn’t like him.” You said frowning, “What if Bucky doesn’t want to come to mass next Sunday?”  

“Oh nonsense, he’ll be here next Sunday,” Your mother answered for him, “He loved the sermon today, didn’t you, dear?” 

Bucky flashed another pleasant grin at your mother, “Of course, I loved hearing, uh, Father.... Father...” 

“Liska” You filled in the gap for him knowing he never set foot into the Church of St. Michael the  Archangel for the entirety of his two months here. 

“Right, Father Liska, I thought it was incredibly moving.” You said a silent prayer for God to smite him down.

 “Why don’t you come by the house for lunch.” Your mother urged him.

You shot Bucky a glare, “Oh I don’t think I should.” He said after glancing at you, if looks could kill Bucky would be 6 ft under.

“Bucky can stop by when he picks me up for dinner later in the week. Let’s not bore the poor man any longer.” You hooked your arm in his and pulled him towards the door, “Goodbye mother.” You said sharply. 

Bucky patted your hand with his own, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.” 

You huffed, “I am most certainly not jealous.” You took your arm back and crossed them over your chest. You were jealous. Jealous and annoyed mainly with your mother.

“Don’t worry sugar there’s plenty of me to go around.” He grinned and stuffed his hands in his pockets. 

Chapter 2- Good Old Fashioned Catholic Guilt

[latex-corset]

so I'd like for this to be a diary

I am also deathly afraid of having a diary. You have one parent open up your sacred space at 16 and all of a sudden a decade and some change later, and you hate keeping a diary, even though it's the only thing that'll keep you sane. Sans therapy. I'd love to go to therapy again, but I hate paperwork.

Still, the things I am experiencing in my work as "queen of the demi monde" are unique. I'm not finding musings on homewrecking beyond the typical reddit posts about heartbroken couples, the "hey girl" instagram reels, and of course, the one person on fetlife who has discovered the epiphany of "as it's not my relationship, it's not my responsibility". I'm also finding a ton of people putting in the work to make the fantasy content, the clips, the pretense.

All of my feelings on homewrecking, as a typical proud and shameless homewrecker, are tied up in wanting to read T.M. Scanlon's "What We Owe To Each Other", procrastinating on a photoset I'm supposed to have to my client by tonight, and of course, at least three other submissives asking, vying, begging for my attention. I am not being given the time or space by anyone or anything to process my feelings on my session yesterday, which left my thighs sore, and my feelings in kind of the same spot. Hence, the online diary.

My sub seems to feel just as emotionally sore. Maybe it's drop for lack of aftercare (at their behest). It certainly isn't a development of romance, but it does feel like, for them, they took things a step too far. Our play, as real as it is in the context of their fantasies, somehow stepped too close to the reality. I wonder if they're actually sitting with the thoughts that they could in fact leave their wife happier. Not because they want to leave their wives for me, but because they feel as though they've settled into the trappings of middle class generic life. Vinyl plank flooring in the new houses and formica countertops. As much as I feel a weight, I can't imagine being stuck in a life between wanting a white picket fence and a wife and kids, and wanting latex and degradation. I tell them all the time that they can have both, that I know people in the community that have both. I have far too many clients who feel like it's impossible.

I even have clients who I watch go from single, to in relationship, to fucking around with me behind their brand new girlfriend's back. Yes, it is very hot and all that the vanilla girlfriend is inferior and blah blah blah, my tits, etc. Maybe even a year or two ago I took some small joy in feeling superior to thin, conventionally attractive women who found my clients in the tinder dating pool. But now I'm bored with it. I do in fact want what's best for everyone. I steer those clients towards going to a munch and meeting the lifestyle domme of their dreams, even if it means lightening my own pockets by taking them out of my income, and instead they search through bottle blondes with utah curls on bumble. Be for fucking real.

I'm terrible at taking a day off.

I would love to go to my hometown, to the lake, to throw my phone in the sand and swim and not think about anything. I don't even care for the generous and random and unprompted cashapp and venmo notifications that plague my ears at all hours of the night. Four years ago I would have been elated. I honestly wonder if I'm burnt out. Will a day off fix me? Do I need a week? What happens when I can't afford a day or a week off? I love this work. Will this work love me back in the ways where I can have it for another twenty years as planned?

I hope I sound relatable to someone who's having the same questions, months or years in the future. The nice thing about making an anonymous tumblr and not having to represent my brand is that I don't have to try to be funny or relatable on the internet. I'm cringe but I'm free. The writing is mediocre but it's honest.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 330

The Lying Detective

“The Lying Detective”

Plot Description: Sherlock goes up against the powerful and seemingly unassailable Culverton Smith - a man with a very dark secret indeed.

Oh. Is John’s therapist the secret Holmes sister??

Ayo fuck John. I mean, at least he knows leaving his daughter with friends is shitty behavior, though, i GUESS

Right. He WAS the Dream Lord, and now he’s gonna alter the memories of his closest friends to forget wherever he’s about to tell them

His daughter was the one writing down all the info he was telling them? Fair

I almost thought he imagined the daughter…actually that remains to be seen. We know how Sherlock can be

Why are we constantly intersplicing commercials for Dream Lord??

I know Sherlock is guessing romantic relationship but what if the daughter still lives at home???

“Everything’s about Sherlock” well, it IS his show, so….

Omg IS he imagining the Dream Lord’s daughter?? You can really tell I haven’t watched these episodes since they aired

Oh wait…is the “daughter” his sister?? I just vaguely remember this bit being important like that. They want me to believe she was imaginary, but I’m pretty sure the woman Sherlock walked around London with all night wasn’t the daughter of Culverton Smith, it was his sister

Oh, cool, Smith is a serial killer, apparently

Omg this is just really bad tv. I miss seasons one and two…

SHE (Mrs Hudson) PUT SHERLOCK IN THE TRUNK OF HER CAR AND SPED OVER TO JOHN’S?!

“I don’t know anything anymore” same, John. I don’t care that or how Sherlock can predict the future, and I’m very uninterested in the melodrama of Sherlock’s drug usage

Thing is, of course Sherlock will end up being right because it’s his show…but because we’re closing in on the worst episode, there will be consequences

Why is Smith asking everyone how long they’ve worked for him??

I bet she’s not gonna look anything like the woman who Sherlock met. Well, she looks SOMEWHAT like her

Eugh, this actor is really good at the kinds of characters he plays but I don’t like those characters

This isn’t even remotely interesting to watch. Did I find this episode THIS bad when it aired??

Why are they so mad at Mycroft? He’s literally trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with Sherlock, too. Don’t call him a reptile, Mrs Hudson. He DOES care even if he has a stupid way of showing it

Eugh…he went down this path where he was basically given weeks to live so John would save him so he could keep a promise to a video of John’s dead wife to save John

The “daughter” wasn’t imaginary, Sherlock. She was your sister

How did I manage to move and make a small grunting noise just a second before Sherlock’s text notification (specifically the one Irene Adler recorded for him) went off?

The amatonormativity happening “romantic entanglement, while fulfilling for other people—“ “will complete you as a human being” Are starting and ending this episode with a “fuck you, John”?? I get you’re grieving but that doesn’t mean that Sherlock has to get into a relationship

God, I almost forgot about the emotional cheating John did. Fuck you, John

The Mary in John’s head is a lot nicer to him than I would have been

People, stop trying to fuck the Holmes brothers. They’re unfuckable (not derogatory)

I think the only somewhat clever part about the reveal of the secret sister is that John believed it was a secret brother and in the pilot Sherlock had guessed John’s sibling Harry was his brother…but Harry is short for Harriette. And this is my reasoning for there to never ever be another season of this show ever again

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

daylight - mat barzal

mat barzal x f!reader

warnings: swearing

in which they fuck around with fans

liked by gracieabrams and 87,293 others

barzal97: champagne problems

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fan1: fuck me

fan2: give us a warning sheesh

fan3: my post notifs are on and i still fell to the floor in maccies

fan4: i just died dead rip me

fan5: the lyrics of that song though...

fan6: and the ring on the necklace??? it's literally y/n's

fan7: but she's got a boyfriend

fan6: not unless mat has anything to say abt it i'd assume

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fan8: they make me so sad

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ynofficial: lover, you should've come over

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fan9: so we all thinking the same thing rn?

fan10:' 'will i ever see your sweet return?' and 'maybe i'm just too young to keep love from going wrong' is so them-coded

fan11: barzal97

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liked by haileesteinfeld and 96,854 others

barzal97: if the whole world was watching, i'd still dance with you

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fan12: stop that's the pic from when she got in the car before awards night last year

fan13: he was looking right at her i remember it

fan14: it shouldn't be fair that he posts the hottest photos of him desperately in love and pining for y/n at the same time, it's an inner conflict

fan15: ynofficial ynofficial ynofficial

fan16: ynofficial ynofficial ynofficial

liked by shityoushouldcareabout and 4,245 others

ynofficial: and wonder about the only soul who can tell which smile i'm faking, and the heart i know i'm breaking is my own

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fan17: grow a pair already

fan18: WHAT OF THE BOYFRIEND???

fan19: barzal97

fan20: barzal97

fan21: y'all are acting like he won't have her post notifs on

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barzal97: i knew i'd wish you would've changed your mind

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fan22: the significance of those photos have me bawling my eyes out

fan23: what happened?

fan22: on the left he got asked in a post-game interview how he felt when his gf was put on the kiss cam with another guy and on the right, in that video you could hear him say 'i need to check with the missus because i think this one's coming home with me'

fan23: AND THESE PEOPLE AREN'T TOGETHER????

fan24: ynofficial

fan25: mat, you brought out the cardigan voice notes. i'm unwell

liked by barzal97 and 452,268 others

ynbarzalofficial: hi guys. it's come to our attention lately that there's been a lot of speculation in the media about our relationship, so we just wanted to pop in and clear some things up. first of all, mat and i have been together for eight years now, which was something we did not choose to disclose to the public immediately -- the irony is that that privacy backfired on us, because no, we did not break up; i do not have a boyfriend -- he is in fact my brother's friend and was helping us out with our new house. secondly...we may have been fucking around with you all and purposefully posting all those angsty cringey stuff to our accounts because we thought it was funny (and i am sorry about that), and that (big shocker)(take a deep breath) we have been married very happily for three years. third: watch this space for a surprise soon.

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liked by ynofficialbarzal, nhl and 629,266 others

barzal97: it was all my idea, and i have to say it went quite well; we got the privacy to enjoy our relationship without worrying about the pressures of the media. i can finally say that i am a very VERY happily married man. gosh i love my wife. that feels so good to say. and you wouldn't have a complete playlist of our relationship without the final song: daylight by taylor swift (and because we love it so much, add cowboy like me on there too). i can't wait to spend forever with you ynofficialbarzal and i'm so excited for the future. it feels so weird saying you're my wife on social media after we've been married for years already.

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barzal97: i was told to tag ninanow for this. i forgot to mention earlier (silly me) that we also have two kids! one of each and another on the way!! I'M SO EXCITED!!!!!! anyway, see you all in 2 years. i like leaving everything in shambles and ynofficialbarzal and myself will be watching twitter with a glass of wine (me) and a mocktail (yn)

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[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Black of Hair (Part 6)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Warnings: On the Citrus Scale, I’d say we’re at a lime. So PG-13. First time mentions (for now). Describing past sexual events. Mentions of murder, animal cruelty, etc. Crude jokes told by Theon, so that deserves a warning.

Word Count: 5,193

Tags: black of hair got

Summary: War is brewing... and your family is behind it.

Series Masterlist: Here

Taglist: @way-too-addicted-to-anime @akaward-potato @fuckoffupstairs @soleil-dor @depressedcuppatea @thegirlwithoutaname87 @taylorsfilms @100kindsofblake @quietlycalum @lustgardn @thebitchinleo @coffeethenink    @theminiestofmins @callmefroggie @greinch @icemanhoneybadger @ietss @theminiestofmins @qhbr2013 @savingprivatecass @fossilisedtreeresin @freshfreakoaftrash @sarcasm-n-insomnia @a-lil-bit-nuts @megzdoodle @gruffle1 @burninggracesandbridges @dead-pool-simp @sonnensplitter @flowercrowns3438 @bport76 @apollonshootafar @serenefreakgeek @hybridlamb @kittykylax @johnmurphys-sass @magnitude101999 @pughslov @fall-winter-heart97 @plumes-de-nuit @spid3rgwen @gwyneirastorm​

VERY IMPORTANT A/N: Please please PLEASE if you want to be added to the taglist, please pm/ask box me! Some have slipped through the cracks because they comment/ask on individual chapters and it’s hard for me to scroll through those notifications and keep track of them. Thank you, lovelies! Comment, like, and reblog! That'd be appreciated!

(I do not consent to my works being reposted/copied)

~~~

The next couple of moons after your wedding were more wonderful than you could have ever imagined.

Your first night as man and wife was awkward, to say the least, but it was informative and full of reassurances for the future of your marriage. Robb was, as you observed before, eager to please behind closed doors as well as in public. He was attentive and eager to learn. And in return, you also tried your damn hardest to learn and be instructional for both of your sakes. While a part of you wasn’t expecting anything out of your first time, it was enjoyable, despite not fully finishing. It still felt nice, despite not feeling the way experienced ladies in your uncle’s company once explained to you when you were younger. Your mother nearly killed Tyrion when she heard about this incident. It wasn’t Tyrion’s fault. You were little and snuck after him when he went into a whore house. He didn’t know you followed him. But those ladies also mentioned that the first time is usually never the greatest time.

So after consummating your marriage the first night, both you and Robb didn’t feel the need to rush anything else from then on. For the first couple of days, the weight of expectation was a weight that no longer dragged your shoulders down. You were content with how your life turned out, despite having to say goodbye to your Uncle Tyrion.

With a heavy heart, he left on the fourth morning after your wedding. Your only family left in the North, gone by the end of the day. He promised to write throughout his journey so that you would know he was safe, and the thought of still being in contact with anyone outside of Winterfell comforted you.

To distract yourself from feeling so alone, you asked Robb to be your husband again that night and he accepted without question. Listening to the voices in your head, you were able to communicate your wishes to Robb even when you had trouble forming words between breathless gasps. Listening to your voice intently, Robb followed your instruction, and this time, with slight adjustments, you felt that climbing anticipation you have only heard of. He gladly undid your fears and inexperience with careful hands and slow ministrations that pushed and pulled you into bliss several times throughout the night. You weren’t sure what caused the walls to crumble, but by the next morning, you felt like you knew more about your husband than your own mother knew about your father. Before he could get up to dress for the day, he bedded you once more and it was just as blissful as the night before, even leaving you comfortably sore throughout the day.

All of a sudden, Robb was able to read you inside and out, or more specifically, your body. Your emotions and inner thoughts are still endeavors he has yet to explore, but now he’s exceeded all expectations you had in a husband and more. As you’ve said before: Robb is full of surprises.

It both excited and terrified you to realize your heart started speeding up every time he looked your way, or when your face felt warm when his lips touched your hand every morning at breakfast. The thought of you falling in love with him did cross your mind, but you pushed that thought down and delayed it to the best of your ability, not yet wanting to acknowledge it.

You busy yourself during the day with your tasks, both personal and political. You read and write letters, now sealing them with your name and your husband’s sigil. You read and take account of the stocks before coming up with a solution to make more before the upcoming winter. Rickon loves to make your duties a challenge, but you welcome the distraction. The little lord is bored beyond measure with the majority of his siblings gone from Winterfell. He busies you with games and stories and often begs you for a ride around with your horse. Fawn was still young and could be trained to deal with children, so you happily taught Rickon how to take care of her.

Today was one of those days as you hand Rickon an apple to gift your noble steed. He was jealous over breakfast because Bran’s special saddle was finally finished per Tyrion’s instruction, and Robb wanted to take the boy out to ride for the first time in months. Theon tagged along, but you were tasked with distracting Rickon.

You were teaching Rickon about how to rig a saddle onto a horse when the gates opened. Looking up, your eyes widen as alarm bells start going off in your head. Bran was no longer on his saddle, instead, Robb was carrying his little brother as one of the boy’s legs continued to bleed. Theon had the horses’ reins in one hand and a rope meant to act like a leash in the other, the woman attached to that leash looked wild, with her hair and eyes unhinged with fear and possible rage.

You rush forward, stepping toward Robb and Bran, “What happened?!”

“We were attacked by wildlings,” Robb explains as he moves to sit Bran down on the nearest bench and allowed you to tend to the boy. You kneel in front of the younger Stark boy while touching the knee that was injured.

“Bran? Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” he nods, “I can’t feel it.”

Your heart hurts when you hear the disdain stitched close in his voice. He looked away as you press your handkerchief to his wound while you instruct Rickon to fetch Maester Luwin. Once the little boy returned with the maester, you step away to reach for your husband.

“Are you injured?”

“No, I’m fine,” he smiles gratefully, extending his arm in the direction of Theon and their prisoner, “We killed all but one. She begged for servitude in exchange for her life.”

“You best bow to your knees,” Theon snapped at the wild woman, pushing her forward, “You’re in the presence of a princess.”

“What are wildings doing so far south of the Wall?” You questioned Robb with curiosity.

“I don’t know, but they appeared desperate to take Bran’s horse and head further south of here... like they were running from something.”

The phrase chilled you in a way you couldn’t describe. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good as you watched the wildling woman’s back as Theon dragged her inside.

~~~

A week goes by and she doesn’t say much, at least in your presence. You’ve seen Theon cause her grief -though she appeared to take it in stride- and you’ve scolded him for doing so. It was awful enough to watch her walk around with those chains dragging around her ankles. Robb assured you that the chains were to prevent her from running away, but you countered that the chains just made it easier for men to catch her. Theon laughed and made a horrible comment that you didn’t dare to repeat, but Robb caught sight of how disgusted you looked and snapped at his friend. Theon frowns and doesn’t speak for a while after that, making you wonder if he and Robb were fighting.

You try not to think about mending that conflict while your mind still wandered off to the wildling girl, who was technically a woman, a few years older than yourself. You find her one-morning sorting hay, distributing bits throughout the stables, "... What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't say." She said plainly, not even looking up from her work.

"Can I know what it is then?"

"... Osha."

"Osha,” you smile, despite the other woman never acknowledging your presence, “My name is Y/n."

"So it's not 'Princess' then?" She asked sarcastically.

You laugh under your breath, "I would hope not. That would be a stupid name.”

You catch a glimpse of a smirk under Osha’s wild, matted hair, so you continue, “I apologize on Theon's behalf. He's become a bit... reckless as of late so I hope he didn't hurt you."

"I've had worse men than him try to scare me. He's nothing but a pup."

Her voice was confident enough for you to take the words to heart, "I believe you."

She finally turns to face you, having trouble glaring you down behind the matted hair in her eyes, "... What do you want?"

You tilt your head, feigning innocence, "Why do you assume I want something?"

"No one here talks to me unless they want something."

She was blunt and quite the observer. Osha was well aware of her place among these Stark people and you had to respect that. The stories tell of how wildlings were-- well, wild, but the stories never talk about how smart and cunning they were.

"Well, Osha... I want to see you properly clothed and fed. I want you to be able to actually see where you're going if your hair was properly groomed. I want you to have a warm bath next to a fireplace and a feather bed to sleep on."

You threw her off, you could tell, from the way Osha’s mouth opened and shut while trying to form words. Finally, she settled on a skeptical expression, trying to intimidate your smile, "... Why?"

Your smile only widens, "Because even though my husband says you're a guest here, you're not exactly being treated as one. And as the lady of the keep, it's my duty to host and care for all of the guests of Winterfell."

"Duty. Is that why you want to help me?"

"It's a part of it, but so is the kindness of my heart, believe it or not. You're a clever woman, Osha. You're definitely not stupid,” she almost looked proud, squaring her small shoulders as you continued, “Your eyes are sharper than Theon gives you credit for. But I will be honest, Theon doesn't give most women credit. I believe he entertains me only because I'm his best friend's wife... and because my father wears a crown."

Osha continued to suspect an ulterior motive from you but doesn’t protest when you order a room made up to her liking. The chains remained on her ankles unless she was given a bath and changed out of her clothes, but even when temporarily freed from the chains, you kept a close eye on her. Theon and Robb must have reconnected as friends again when you weren’t looking because they both agreed on how Osha was not to be trusted when you told them what you did, but you waved them off. You assured your husband that even though Osha was alone in her room, you weren’t stupid enough to leave the door unguarded. You left one of your own soldiers in front of Osha’s bedroom door and when Robb questioned the window, you scoffed.

“That window stands high above the ground. No one could survive a fall from that distance.”

You purposely said this when the two of you were alone, not wishing for Bran to hear your comment. Robb considered the matter settled after that. Osha remained a guest in chains but was more comfortable in her surroundings. You even took some time out of your mornings to help braid her hair out of her face. In a strange way, you understood her. You understood what it was like to be trapped in a place you weren’t familiar with, so you tried to make Osha feel comfortable.

Also, it didn’t hurt to gain friends in a strange place.

~~~

Weeks pass and Tyrion has not sent you a letter for some time, so you began to worry. You write to King’s Landing as soon as your paranoia sets in, anxiously waiting for a reply. To no surprise, you get a raven within days, and it's with the Master of Whisperers' sigil. As your eyes scan the words within the scroll, Varys describes how Tyrion Lannister was taken prisoner by Catelyn Stark under the Hand of the King’s orders. The events that followed were the effect of this scandal. Your Uncle Jaime openly attacked Ned Stark out on the streets, killing his men and leaving him injured before Jaime fled the city, likely to rally beside his father at Casterly Rock as they prep for war.

You see red, and before you could think properly, you raced to Robb’s chambers and shook the letter in his face, screaming in a fashion that you could only have inherited from the Queen, “By what right does your mother have to arrest my uncle?!”

“Y/n, I...”

“No! Don’t even try to lie!” You snarl, “I know a liar when I see one. I know the way people look whenever they are hiding secrets from me. I grew up in King’s Landing, boy. I know how people whisper!”

Robb’s face falls from empathy to one of venom, “Do not call me boy!”

“Or what, boy?" You demanded answers, "Is that why your mother left Winterfell? Is that why you were so cold to Tyrion? How dare you and your mother conspire against my family?!”

“Your family?” Robb echoes with an accusatory tone, “Your family were the ones who conspired to kill Jon Arryn and then pushed my brother out of a tower window!”

Silence. The room still felt tense, ready to snap given the word. Your anger froze, your eyebrows scrunching together in denial while trying to search for the lie on your husband’s face. Your chest felt tight, unable to expand for air as the words come out quieter than you intended, “... Wha... What?”

With your confusion comes with Robb’s deflating anger, sighing deeply as he spoke, “I knew you wouldn’t know about it. At first, I thought you wouldn’t know of such things because you were a child but now... now I know that you wouldn’t do something as horrible as trying to kill an innocent boy because you have a good heart. You’re not like your mother or brother. You’re not your uncle.”

You swallow, choking as your throat constricts. You want to scream or demand an explanation, but as of right now, all you can think about is your poor uncle trapped in a cold cell somewhere. The words that spilled out of your mouth were pleas, “... N-No, my uncle is good, too. Tyrion is good. He’s always been good,” the man in front of you scoffs, looking away until you stepped forward, a hand resting on his cheek to keep your gaze locked, “Please, Robb, listen to me. Even when I had nothing, I had my uncles. Now I know that where you’re from, killing a king or being a whore lover is honor-less, but the Kingslayer and the Imp are my family, and believe it or not, I prefer them over my own mother and father. I don’t know what you’ve heard but whatever you believe my uncle has done I can promise you that it wasn’t him. I know him better than my own father. In fact, I consider Tyrion to be what my father could not.”

Robb’s expression softens, but the doubt was still hiding his eyes, as clear as day. You wet your bottom lip, blinking before deciding to confess, “You know... before he left for the Wall, my uncle made me a promise. A deal, a bet, call it what you will. The deal was that if he didn’t make it to our wedding, I wanted him to take me away from here,” Robb’s eyes widen for a fraction before reverting back to normal size. Blink and you would’ve missed it. He let you continue without interruption, “I wanted him to bring me back to King’s Landing. But, if he did make it and I lost the bet, he didn’t want bragging rights or for me to do as I’m told and be your wife. No, if my uncle won, he wanted me to make a choice. He wanted me to do whatever made me happy, and that would make him happy. Everybody wins. He said that if I wanted to go home, then he’d bring me home. And if you remember our wedding at all, my Uncle Tyrion did, in fact, attend the ceremony and even gave me away to you before your gods, might I add. I lost the bet. And when the time came for me to pay my debts... I couldn’t. Not fully. In the end, I realized I didn’t want my uncle to take me home... because this is my home now. And even though I didn’t know you enough then, I knew you and this place could make me happier than King’s Landing ever could. I’m telling you this in confidence because you are my husband and I am begging you to have your mother release my uncle. Have no harm come to the only man who deserves to be my father, please.”

A war was going on in Robb’s eyes, conflict meeting conflict. You had to wonder if all Starks were good at brooding if a distant memory of his bastard brother served you right. Your hand, still resting on his cheek is finally acknowledged when Robb reaches up to take it in his own hand while glancing back at you, “And what if he is guilty?”

“He’s not.”

“And if he is?”

Your worry your lip, your own thoughts brewing a mile a minute before answering, “... I don’t know. If he is... kill me alongside him. I would defend him until the very end.”

He sighs, leaning forward until your foreheads touch, his eyes closing with a wince as if in pain, “That wouldn’t make me happy.”

Your heart skips at the words, your breath was involuntarily stolen from the man in front of you. After a moment, Robb squeezed your hand tightly before releasing you, stepping out of your space, “Y/n... even if it wasn’t your uncle, someone in your family killed Jon Arryn and tried to kill my brother. If not Lord Tyrion, then who?”

“I... I don’t know that either. I just know it’s not Tyrion.”

Robb nods, gaze hardening once again as he kept his gaze locked with yours, “And what happens should we find the Lannister who did these unforgivable crimes?”

He closely watched your expression shift with hawk-like eyes, clearly testing you and your loyalty. Ice settled in your veins, your eyes widening in disgust. You were appalled by his accusations and his suspicion of loyalty, wondering if you would choose between him and your family. With this conclusion, you let your heart harden again as you glared right back at your husband, “Then swing the sword yourself... and look me in the eyes as you do so.”

~~~

Some weeks later, you receive a letter from the Eyrie. Confused as to why anyone from House Arryn would want to speak with you, your hands carefully unravel the scroll. Once your eyes first settled on the handwriting, you breathed a sigh of relief when realizing the letter to be from your uncle.

Y/n,

I am safe. I was mistaken for an assassin and brought to the Eyrie to face judgment. It’s a long story, one of which I do not want you to worry about, but I will now be heading for Casterly Rock. Wish me luck. All that I ask is once you read this letter, have it burned. Do not question it. Just know that it’ll keep our family safe as long as no one else reads this. Stay quiet and stay safe, but most importantly, be brave.

Tyrion

Without hesitation, you walked across your room and threw the letter into the fire, watching the flames until they completely engulfed the parchment to the point of indefinable. That evening, when you entered the Hall for dinner, Robb, Theon, and Maester Luwin were already there, huddled around each other until you approached. Theon and Maester Luwin eyed you with a weary gaze while Robb kept his expression neutral, a scroll unraveled in his hands.

“My mother has set your uncle free. He had won his freedom in a trial by combat.”

“I see,” you dare not react, keeping your head held high as you stared down your husband, “Then the gods must have found him innocent on all charges.”

“There was another letter, Princess,” Maester Luwin decided to break the tension between you and Robb, drawing your eyes to stare at the old man, “Addressed to you. And another to Lord Stark.”

Both you and Robb take your respective letters, opening them up simultaneously. You recognize Varys’ words and read them to yourself. All eyes watch as your jaw visibly tightens and your eyelashes flutter. Your eyes struggle to focus as they slowly lift from the page and you swallow something building up in your throat as you spoke, “King Robert is dead. Killed in a hunting accident.”

The room grows silent. Robb wants to say something but instead watches as you stare at the floor, the letter now hanging loosely in your hands. Robb decides to fill the room with the sound of his letter crinkling as he starts to read the words, recognizing the handwriting to be Sansa’s. At first, he remains stoic until it slowly crumbles away to confusion and betrayal. He stares at the maester then back at the parchment in disbelief, “Treason? Sansa wrote this?”

“It is your sister’s hand, but the Queen’s words,” your head rises at the information, bewildered as Maester Luwin explains the letter, “You are summoned to King’s Landing to swear fealty to the new King.”

“Joffrey put my father in chains, now he wants his ass kissed?”

Spiraling, you don’t think rationally before snatching the letter out of Robb’s hands to read the words yourself. It was true. Robert was dead and now Joffrey has taken the Iron Throne. One of his first decrees was to have Ned Stark arrested and the remainder of his men and loyal servants killed. Sansa, now a hostage, spoke as Luwin described: with your mother’s words. You knew them all too well, to the point your hands began to shake at the thought of it.

Maester Luwin bows his head, “This is a royal command, my lord. If you should refuse to obey--”

“I won’t refuse,” both you and Theon look up at Robb’s words, watching as his eyes harden with determination, “His Grace summons me to King’s Landing, I’ll go to King’s Landing. But not alone.” He takes the letter from you, crumpling it up before handing it back to the maester, “Call the banners.”

Theon smirks while Maester Luwin appeared shocked, “All of them, my lord?”

“They’ve all sworn to defend my father, have they not?”

“They have.”

“Now we see what their words are worth.”

Luwin smiles in approval before walking out of the room. You, now have suddenly lost your appetite, retreat back to your chambers, nearly out of breath by the time you closed the door behind you.

You sit down next to the fireplace when your legs felt too weak to keep you standing. Still in shock, you watch the world move outside your window, swarms of ravens flying past with scrolls attached to their legs. Dozens of those black birds, bearing the call to war for all of House Stark’s bannermen sent an uncomfortable roll of your stomach to flip as you watch them all fly away.

The thoughts kept you from peace and quiet. Your father was dead. He may not have given you much notice, and sometimes he may not have remembered your name day, but he was still your father. A part of you felt disgusted, however, when you barely felt grief over his death. Perhaps a part of you was always prepared for this to happen. Your father was a fat drunk who loved to hunt to avoid his responsibilities... and naturally, those two things don’t mix.

Your brother is king now... that one bit of news involuntarily sent a shiver down your spine. Joffrey wasn’t a good person, and that was only putting it lightly. For most of your lives, Joffrey would try to be cruel to you, but it normally backfired. You were born first and were naturally taller until he finally hit a growth spurt. After that, he was horrible to you. Hitting you, tripping you, pulling your hair, and always when no one else was looking. He even threatened to cut open Fawn once and knowing what happened with one of Tommen’s cats, you couldn’t take that chance. That day, you politely asked your Uncle Jaime to take your horse out on one of his evening stakeouts outside the Red Keep, coming up with the excuse of how guilty you felt not being able to let your dear Fawn stretch her legs as often as you should. Jaime gladly took her, none the wiser. After that, you always strategically sent out the stable boy to tend to Fawn whenever Joffrey’s whereabouts were unknown.

Growing up with Joffrey was like walking on eggshells, so you could only imagine what the weight of the Seven Kingdoms will do on that boy’s shoulders before he snaps. He’s already imprisoned your husband’s father and is currently keeping his sisters captive. Suddenly, your room felt smaller than it was, as though your alliance marriage was about to start wearing thin as a thread. More than ever, you felt like an outsider... a Baratheon and a Lannister daughter... surrounded by wolves.

It wasn’t long before Robb walked in and interrupted your thoughts, silently closing the door behind him. He only makes a few steps in before speaking, “Y/n--”

“I hope you had a letter sent to your mother,” you keep your voice strong while staring into the flames, avoiding whatever tone Robb was pitying you with, “She deserves to know.”

“I had Maester Luwin write one up. She’ll get it by tomorrow morning.”

“Good.”

Silence fell through the room, beside the crackling of the fire. After a moment, careful, slow footsteps draw near to you, “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes shoot up when you felt his presence lingering over you, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed the sympathy in his expression, “For what?”

“For your father.”

A scoff escapes your lips before you could even think about it, your eyes averting back to the fireplace as your husband sits in the seat next to yours, “You should not apologize for something that was bound to happen. I should be apologizing to you. My family has half of yours held hostage in King’s Landing.”

“Not for long,” his voice deepens with determination, “Once the bannermen get here, we’ll leave immediately.”

“But what about your brothers?”

“Maester Luwin will stay and watch out for them... as will you.”

Your eyes shoot up to meet his, and you nearly felt a laugh bubble up in your throat in response to his confidence. You stood your ground, “No. I’m going with you, I’m not staying.”

“Yes, you will,” he meets you head-on as if he believed this was a battlefield he has practiced for, “I--”

“You, what? You command it?” His mouth shuts, and the sneer from before appeared on your face, “You’re not my king, Robb. And I’m not just a lady who knits and sits behind a castle wall waiting for her husband to come home from war! You need me with you in King’s Landing if you intend on rescuing your father from my family’s clutches. My brother sits on the Iron Throne. My mother is Queen Regent. My grandfather and my uncle are raising an army to go to war for her against you. The only way you can safely bring home your father, mother, and sisters are if I go with you and beg my family for forgiveness without too much bloodshed!”

Robb looks away, deciding that the fire was more interesting to brood over. Your posture relaxes, guilt taking over as you slowly reach your hand to touch his arm. You decide to try and win him over by softening your words, “I know you’re no fool, my love... You know I’m right.”

His curls bounce with his nod, his eyes firmly staring at his hands as he closes them together, leaning his elbows against his knees, “It shouldn’t be this way. If none of this was happening, we could stay here.”

“And do what?”

The side eye you receive is playful; mischievous, “I could think of a few things.”

You entertain a small laugh with him, forcing down the heat threatening to rise in your cheeks, “I suppose as Acting Lord of Winterfell, you are due for a couple of heirs.”

Robb’s gaze softens, turning his face fully to you, “There’s no need to have children so soon, Y/n. My father is still alive and even if something were to happen to me tomorrow, he still has two legitimate sons.”

The words fester before your lips turn down. Apparently, a part of you did not like the idea of Robb dying. Even if you despised him, which you didn’t, you wouldn’t wish an early grave for him, “Don’t speak so low of yourself. You are his firstborn son and heir. Now that you are married, it is your duty to ensure your father’s legacy will live on.”

“... His legacy might be in danger... if King Joffrey decides to murder him and we go to war. Do you think your brother is capable of such a thing?”

You wanted to laugh at how silly the question felt when hearing it out loud, but you quickly remember that Ned Stark was at your brother’s mercy, and you decide not to spare Robb the details, answering his question with honesty. Your words were soft and grave, retelling a distant memory with disdain and horror, “When Joffrey was little, he cut open a pregnant cat and proceeded to show our father all the dead kittens, lifeless in his small hands,” Robb’s eyes widen but otherwise said nothing, so you continued, “Robert was disgusted by it, yelling at Joffrey until the boy wet himself... the King summoned me to his chambers that night, and I was scared that somehow Joffrey had pinned this whole horrible incident on me. Of course, Robert was drunk when I arrived, but for some reason, he wanted to spend some quality time in my company.”

You smile unconsciously, starting to feel a small bit of sadness as you clung to one of the few good memories you had of your father, “I don’t think he meant it, but I remember him plainly stating, behind his wine goblet, that I should wear his crown, that Joffrey didn’t deserve it, but unfortunately it had to be this way. Unless he wanted to repeat the Dance of Dragons, he could never name me his heir.”

Robb doesn’t say anything, and since you weren’t looking, you didn’t see the thoughtful blue eyes scanning your face. Your words seeping into his skin, he tried picturing a younger you, sitting beside a fat, old Robert while he drunkenly confessed wanting you on the Iron Throne instead of Joffrey. Robb’s mind was spinning at the picture. A pretty, far-off picture. You, a woman grown, wise and just, sitting on that throne of smelted swords, chin high and eyes fierce, wearing a beautiful gown of your family’s colors and a smaller size of your father’s crown settled onto your head.

The picture in his mind was so clear, part of him wondered if it wasn’t much of a thought, but a vision. Other thoughts began brewing in secret, but they betray the small smile on Robb’s face, fire twinkling in his eyes.

~~~

A/N: I like adding small sentences into certain monologues that sort of remind me of Easter eggs. For example, Y/n Baratheon never considered herself as even half-Lannister and the smallest things she does proves that. When she says that she couldn’t repay her debt to Tyrion, I wanted to further prove that she wasn’t a Lannister, since we all know that ‘Lannisters always pay their debts’.

Again, PLEASE ask/pm me if you want to be added to the taglist! DO NOT comment underneath each chapter! I won't see it right away or I might even miss it. It'll be easier if every ask was sent to me in one place so that I can easily see it.

Also! Feel free to ask questions about this story! Send a raven in the pm, but no questions regarding spoilers 😉

[mayhem24-7forever]

A Little Out of The Ordinary: Part 2 (Whumptober 2022)

~ Part One ~

Whumptober Prompts (from this list): Tossing and Turning - Caught in a Storm - Sleeping in Shifts

Character: Jake “Hangman” Sersin (Top Gun: Maverick)

Author’s Notes: If you are not over eighteen, this is not for you! I deserve a safe place to express myself and that includes not wanting minors to read my content, even when it is not sexual in nature. Thank you. I actually switched this with the day 9 prompts so that I could do a two parter for 1 and 2, sorry. fic divider by @jbarneswilson​

Warnings: pregnancy hormones causing trouble, heartbreak, unplanned pregnancy, running away from your problems, angst with a happy ending

“Let me know if you need anything my love.” Y/N’s aunt said from the doorway of the guest bedroom and Y/N nodded with a weak smile from where she lay on the bed. “Goodnight sweetie.”

“Goodnight auntie.” she replied in a mumble, turning her back to the door as her aunt closed it.

This had been her nightly routine for the past few weeks… well, six to be exact. Six weeks ago she had said goodbye to Jake as he left for a long mission, unsure if he would even come back. The next day, she had gone to the doctor’s office for a regular check-up and almost fainted when the nurse informed her that she was almost six weeks pregnant. That afternoon, she had shown up on Penny’s doorstep, sobbing and exceptionally emotional (and irrational) and made the rash decision that Jake could never love her and that it was best for her to leave. Penny, of course, desperately tried to convince her to take a moment to think it through but her raging pregnancy hormones won over and she wrote him a letter, leaving it with Penny to give to him when he returned. Within a few days, her cousins came to help her pack up her apartment and drove her an hour up the coast to stay with them.

For six weeks, Y/N had been trying to get used to her new life as a single pregnant woman living with her aunt and uncle. Her cousins and their families lived nearby and she spent most of her day helping out with all the kids and learning how to be a mom. The morning sickness had been the worst, hours spent sitting on the floor of the bathroom with her head halfway in the toilet, her aunt or one of her cousins rubbing her back and holding her hair back for her. She had gotten an ultrasound done, her aunt there to hold her hand and wipe her tears when she saw the little black and white sonogram of the growing bean in her stomach.

She thought a lot about Jake in those weeks, which is what she found herself doing that very night after her aunt left her room. Tossing and turning, she couldn't seem to get comfortable or to turn off her rambling thoughts, the storm raging outside not being any help. Flashes of lightning lit up the room sporadically through the thin curtains, followed by the rolling sound of thunder and the ever-present tapping on the rain on the windowpane.

Twelve weeks of pregnancy meant that a lot of the first trimester symptoms were waining and without the heavy emotions of the hormonal swings, she was left to realize just how stupid and hasty she had been in her decision making. She should have talked to him face to face, not left him a letter. She should have told him in person and let him give his opinion, it was after all, his child too. But she knew what he would have said. They had pillow talked about their plans for the future one night and she knew Jake had big plans for his military career. He had no intentions of a wife or kids. She loved Jake more than anything in the world, which is exactly why she couldn’t tie him down with a family when all he wants to do is fly.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand for what must have been the thirtieth time that evening, the screen lighting up with yet another notification of new text messages, missed calls, and voicemails. From the frequency, she knew that Jake must have returned from deployment that afternoon and read the letter earlier that evening. She knew it was wrong and cowardly but she was too nervous and scared to open the notifications so she turned her phone off and rolled back over to try and sleep. It took a while longer and she cried the whole time but she was eventually able to fall into a restless sleep, dreaming about being back in Jake’s arms.

“Wake up, my love.” Her aunt’s voice rang through her dreams, bringing her back to consciousness. “Y/N, wake up.”

“Auntie?” she asked groggily, squinting up at her aunt in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Come downstairs, there’s something you need to see.” her aunt replied before walking out of her room, leaving the door open.

Y/N shook her head in confusion but got up nevertheless, glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand to see that it was almost three in the morning. With the storm still raging outside, she shuffled to the closet to grab a robe and slippers before heading downstairs to see what was going on. As she descended, she could hear raised voices and as she stepped off the bottom step she could see her uncle arguing with someone at the front door, a wooden baseball bat in hand. Her aunt stood next to him, phone in hand and poised as if she was ready to call someone. Upon noticing Y/N’s arrival, she called her over, pointing out the door.

“Sweetheart, do you know this man?” she asked softly. “Because if you don’t I’m gonna call the police. He’s been pounding on the door and calling for you.”

Y/N reached the door and looked over her uncle’s shoulder to find a surprising sight. Jake Seresin was standing on the front porch, soaked through by the rain like a drowned cat.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed in relief when he saw her and took a step forwards but was stopped by the end of her uncle’s bat.

“You stay back!” he ordered before looking to his niece. “Do you know this crazy guy or do I get to kick his ass for trespassing and harassment?”

“Oh my god, Jake!” she cried out, hands flying to her mouth as she gasped in surprise. “Yes, I know him. It’s okay, he’s not here to hurt anyone.”

“You sure?” her uncle asked, seemingly slightly disappointed he didn’t get to chase Jake off his lawn with his bat.

“Yes, I’m sure.” she replied, eyes still locked on Jake in bewilderment before turning to her uncle and aunt. “Can you give me a minute alone with him? Please?”

Her uncle nodded gruffly, giving Jake a piercing look of warning before moving to allow her outside. She thanked her aunt and uncle, apologizing for the trouble before closing the door behind her.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“I needed to talk to you but you weren’t picking up the phone. I went to your old apartment and had to bribe the landlady to give me your forwarding address. Then I kind of stole Bradshaw’s bronco to drive the hour out here but the storm hit while I was driving.” Jake explained, slightly out of breath. “Then the stupid car broke down a couple blocks away so I ran here. Your uncle thought I was insane and your aunt was gonna call the cops but I convinced them to go get you to prove you know me. I’m just so fucking happy I found you.”

“I- I-” she tried, her brain struggling to catch up with what was happening. “But why are you here?”

“Because I’m an idiot!” he replied, which only made her more confused. “I never told you how much you meant to me and I should have! I came back from the mission ready to tell you everything but you were gone and it’s my fault, I know that. I made you think that I didn’t care about you but it’s not true.”

“Jake, I-” she began but he stepped forwards and cut her off.

“I love you. I have loved you since the moment I met you and I can’t believe it took me so long to tell you.” he said, eyes pleading with her to believe him. “I love you and I’m ready to be a dad. Please tell me your feelings haven’t changed, please.

“They haven’t.” she replied decisively, tears coming to her eyes.

“You were right about something in the letter… this wasn’t supposed to happen. You and me, I mean. We were never supposed to happen.” he said and as a look of hurt flashed across her face he quickly added “A smart, kind, beautiful, and amazing woman like you never should have gotten involved with a cocky self-involved asshole like me. But you did. And I’m so glad you did because I love you and I can’t imagine a life without you now.”

“Jake, what about your plans for your career? Your future?” she asked.

“Fuck my plans!” He exclaimed as he stepped forwards to put his hands on her cheeks so he could gaze right into her eyes to ensure she listened to every single word of what he had to say. “Fuck the medals and the promotions and all of it because there is nothing in this world I want more than being with you and this baby. So please, say you’ll have me.”

She replied by throwing her arms around him, locking her lips with his to show him everything she wanted to say but didn’t have the words for. Jake’s entire body untensed, melting against her as he pulled her in closer to kiss her back like he might never have the chance to again. She felt drops on her face and was unsure if it was the water dripping from his hair or the tears pouring from her eyes but she didn’t care. When they finally pulled back for air, they rested their foreheads against one another, grinning at one another in utter bliss.

“I love you too.” she said quietly, a slight shiver running through her body as his cold hands upon her face wiped away her tears, a huge smile on his face.

He suddenly realized something and pulled backwards, his hands going to hold her shoulders as he looked her up and down frantically.

“Oh my god, the baby! It’s cold and I’m wet and now you’re wet and that can’t be good for the baby and-” he rambled panicking, stopping to look at her curiously when she laughed.

“Relax, Jake!” she told him. “It’s alright! The baby and I are fine, it’s just a little rain!”

“It’d still make me feel better if I could get you inside.” he said, grabbing her hand and opening the door. “Unless your uncle is gonna try and kill me again.” he added with a laugh and they went inside together, as happy as could be.

[warmaidensrevenge]

Let's be rockstars

Eddie Munson x Plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

Warning: 18+ sexual situations with details, angst, fluff, cursing mentions of drinking. Not proof read and no word count

Summary: the heart wants what the heart wants. But long distance has you doubt Eddie and his word.

Part 2

🎸❤️‍🩹🎵

The next 2 and a half months were amazing yet a bit melancholy. Though you and Eddie were hardly in the same town when traveling, countless calls, texts, memes and video chatting filled up all your free time. You would fall asleep with him every night on the phone or on video chat. Since the kiss, you and Eddie started learning even more about each other. You wanted to know everything about him. And he wanted the same. Everytime the phone rang or you got a notification you couldn't help but feel incredibly happy. Conversations of past experiences and talk of a possibile future together constantly came up. But with never actually coming up with a title for you two yet. Not that it mattered what you were called. You just wanted to be with him. It felt like with every word that was said between you two made you fall deeper in love with him. But the constant worries of Eddie, if he felt the same way or not ate at you. He liked you that was for certain. But what could be or not was at the forefront of you mind. You haven't been in many relationships throughout your life but the ones you did have did nothing to help you prepare for what was growing between you and him. The distance was becoming unbearable at least for you it was.

One week in Indiana was finally here. Eddie's home state. He was supposed to meet you in a few days. So you could meet his friends and his Uncle back home and you couldn't have been more nervous. You had one more show to do before you guys had a small break in-between gigs. And your original plan was to go home. But meeting Eddie changed your plans for the better.

You only saw Eddie 4 times after the kiss. Though nothing happened that night or any of the other nights. You were happy to be near him. He was so funny and eccentric. It made those nights some of the best you've had. Filled with laughter, kissing and cuddling. Sometimes a tear or two would shed when reliving past traumas.

Eddie learned your insecurities about your body. He would never admit it to you because he didn't want to seem clingy. But he wanted to be with you. Always. To protect you, to love you, to show you over and over again how beautiful you were. He already had pictured his life with you by his side. Performing together or having a wonderful life somewhere in the country. Suddenly with you, his band didn't seem all to important as it once was. He knew you wouldn't want him to leave the band for you. But he was honestly considering it. Maybe it was too soon to feel this way towards you but he couldn't handle being away from you for so long. She was sweet and courageous, and very stubborn. She could hold her own. She was beautifully shy. But not when it came to him. She loved her family, and she was extremely talented, but she didn't care about the fame that she could easily get if she would just want it. She wanted to help people. She was a natural nurturer. Perfect for a wife and mother. He never met anyone who came close to you. Sure he dated but his focus was on the music first. That's what causes him to be single now. That and the groupies that would somehow find their way to the hotels he would stay at wanting to sleep with him. Though it was tempting he never indulged in such frivolously acts. He never wanted anything so bad than to have the world hear his music. But then you came along. Doing both. Music and a life outside of it. He didn't think he could have both. But now that the universe finally allowed you two to meet. He wanted both. He wanted you. But he wasn't sure if you wanted a life with him. So he patiently wait for the day you would allow him to be yours.

...

Final show before the break. You prayed for it to hurry up and be over so you could see Eddie. So standing on the stage playing the set list you saw him side stage. You couldn't help from smiling. He came early. He gave you a wave. That's when you notice one of his hands in a brace. Your face fell and your brows furrowed out of worry. To the point where it distracted you for a second missing a note. Your brother shot you a look to see what was wrong. But you shook your head mouthing an 'Im sorry' and you continued to play. You couldn't look at Eddie again because he was a distraction. But as soon as you could you would make sure the first thing you did was to see if he was ok. After the song was over your brother address the audience. You went to Eddie for the few seconds you had.

"Don't worry it's nothing." Eddie tried to assure you.

"But you have a show tomorrow."

"shh we will talk about it later." He said. He gave you a quick soft kiss. "Go."

You nodded and return to the stage to get ready for the next song. Holy diver a cover of a cover. You laughed when you had to educate your brother that Dio actually did the song first. However though Dios version was good. Killswitch Engages cover was pretty good too.

You kept your eyes open during your solo. Not wanting another incident. When you were done Eddie was smiling at you and gave you a wink. You smiled back while sticking your tongue at him.

After that song you switched guitars for the next one. This one was definitely different from the rest of the songs you guys normally played. Giving the lyrics. But your brother loved it. So he added it.

The bass started first leading you guys. Your brother started to sing. Then the other guitar and drums. Finally you. You looked at your guitar playing Middle of the Night by Loveless. You waiting for the chorus to add back up vocals for your brother. After the first one your brother continued.

🎵" These burning flames, these crashing waves

Wash over me like a hurricane

I'll captivate, you're hypnotized

Feel powerful, but it's me again

Come, lay me down

'Cause I know this

'Cause I know this sound"🎵

As he sang you looked towards Eddie. It was like you were trying to get him to hear the lyrics. You only took your eyes aways to sing the chorus into the mic.

🎵"In the middle of the night, in the middle of the night

Just call my name, I'm yours to tame

In the middle of the night, in the middle of the night

I'm wide awake, I crave your taste

All night long 'til morning comes

I'm getting what is mine, you gon' get yours, oh no, ooh

In the middle of the night, in the middle of the night"🎵

Yes the lyrics were a bit risque for you but you knew you wanted him in every way possible. You didn't look back at him out of embarrassment. Trying to focus on not messing up again. You were upset with yourself for messing up. Only your brother would know what it was like growing up. And why you were being so hard on yourself. But you knew that he would never berate you for a mistake like your parents did.

Finally finishing the set you helped the guys break down the stage. Doing your best to hurry to get back to Eddie. But when you looked up he was gone. Your heart sank a little. Where did he go?

You packed some equipment into the van. Still wondering where Eddie was but you found him. He was signing some autographs for 2 beautiful women. There was a small line waiting for him. You smiled happily that his name was out there. But that happiness turned to anger when one of the lady's handed Eddie a small piece of paper and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes found yours the moment it happened. He was visibly displeased. You gave him commiseration smile. You watched as he tossed the paper aside when the women left.

You finished packing and said your goodbyes to your band mates. You lingered off to the side stange watching another band perform, waiting for Eddie. About 20-ish minutes went by before Eddie came.

"Hey beautiful."

Your heart skipped when he spoke.

You turned to him. And you wanted to hug his so tight but he was hurt. So you just beamed at him. He came to you to kiss you again. He held onto your neck while setting a slow rhythm. You put your hands on his belt making sure not to hurt him. After that what felt like only a few seconds the kiss was over. You frowned over it. But Eddie's words eased you.

" Missed you beautiful. "

"missed you too"

...

You studied Eddie's hand. "How did you manage to sprain it?"

" It was raining. And one of the big amps slipped and I guess I grabbed it wrong.....it doesn't hurt though it's just stiff."

" Eddie I swear you need to be more careful."

Eddie nodded " I uhh wanted to ask. Do you think maybe you could help me out tomorrow."

" Yes of course." You said while Eddie kissed your forehead.

"But I don't know any of your songs."

"That's ok." He got up from the hotel bed to get his guitar case.

" No I got it." You went and picked up his case and put it on the bed. Eddie opened it and you took out his guitar. You spent most of the night practicing going back and forth from the music sheet. Finally ok with what you learned you guys got ready for bed.

Eddie held you. " I umm when we go to see my uncle I want to warn you. We didn't live a lavish life. Uhh I grew up in a trailer park."

"ok... So?"

" I just mean that I know your not use to that kind of thing."

"Eddie I don't care about that. I grew up poor. After my parents decided to pursue their music we had lost the house. We couched surfed for a long time until we got a 1 bedroom camper." You leaned up to look at him. " I am in no place to judge. I've been living in a hotel room for the past 7 months. I don't even have a place when this is over."

"You can stay with me?"

" I uhh that's nice of you. But I want to plant my roots somewhere. And you want to sing. That's gonna keep you moving. I don't want to be an inconvenience."

" your not. Maybe we can get a place together. And when I tour you can come with. And after we can go home."

" I can't just be a tag along. I need to do something with myself."

"So you want to spend months apart?" Eddie sounded hurt.

"No. Do you have any idea what these past 3 months have done to me."

" Yes I do. Because it happened to me too."

You sighed." Eddie I want to be with you. I just- I don't want to be a part of that life. I'm only doing this now for my brother. And I'm glad I did, because I got to meet you."

" Do you not want a future with me?"

You hesitate. Because you did. You guys wanted the same thing. But you were on a different schedule.

" I do."

"Ok then why can't we figure something out?"

" I'm sure we will. But Eddie I'm not gonna ask you to put your dreams on hold for something we are not sure of yet."

" what is there to not be sure of? Do you not feel the same for me?"

You looked away and tried to find the right words to say. But you were drawing a blank. For some reason you couldn't see a future where you both agree where to be together.

" I love you." Eddie's words made you look back. He held your cheek. " I love you y/n. And I want us to be together. So please tell me you want that too. Because I can't be away from you for that long anymore."

You bit your lip. He loves you. " Eddie i want you too."

He looked sad that you didn't say it back. You wanted to but the feeling of uncertainty was too hard to ignore.

" it's ok if you don't love me-" you cut him off with a kiss.

" I do. I love you. So much." You kissed him again. Eddie pulled you on top of him. As your kiss deepened you felt a knot in your core. You wanted him.

"Eddie" you whimpered " not like this. Not while your hurt"

Eddie loosened his grip on you and you slid off of him. He pulled you back into his arms.

" I'm sorry I do want to."

" you don't have to say anything. When the time comes it will happen. We don't need to force this or rush it." Eddies voice was low and tired. " Let's get some sleep we have a big day tomorrow."

You nodded. But now the felling you had got worse " I love you Eddie."

Eddie smiled and rubbed your arm. " I love you too."

...

Playing next to Eddie felt right. You weren't nervous for the first time since you learned to play. He owned that stage. He was made to be up there. And being next to him made you feel like you belong too. But you couldn't help the thoughts of doubt crawling their way in.

You had to be honest with yourself. You loved Eddie. You wanted to be with him. But he was suppose to perform. You were suppose to help people. You hated being on the road. You hated not seeing your family for months at a time. You hated the groupies and their advances. You didn't want the rockstar life. You never did. And you couldn't ask Eddie to drop his dream for you. So what could you do. You knew what was to come and it was just simply not meant to be. So you had to end it. End things before you met the family before he convinces you to be a part of the one thing you wanted to be far away from. Sure being famous seemed like fun. With no financial problems or whatever. But life in the lime light was anything but private. You couldn't go anywhere or say anything without the fear of being 'canceled'. You couldn't have a normal life. And that was all you wanted. A normal happy life. Maybe the way you saw things was wrong but it was all you wanted.

...

2 days later you found yourself sitting by the pool. Eddie had went out for drinks with his band mates. You were trying to find the words to say. All you could think about was his smile, his eyes, his voice. You started to cry. You didn't want to do this. But you had to.

After a while trying to pull yourself together and talk yourself into doing it Eddie found you.

" hey beautiful watcha doing down here?"

You didn't say anything. You were trying to muster up the courage. Eddie sat next to you.

" what's wrong?" His concern hurt you. You were about to break his heart.

"I've been thinking."

"About?"

" Us" you sighed " the last few days all I've been thinking about is our future together. And the truth is you're everything I could ever want. I keep thinking about what it would be like to finally having a life together. The more I think about it the more I realized that what we both want is different. Our relationship could never work."

" Why not? I don't understand. I thought you loved me."

" Eddie I do. But I want to be able to call you after a bad day or tell you about some life I saved. Only to be met with unanswered calls. Not to be able to reach you because your working. I want to wake up every morning to your face."

" Then come with me. If you want you can join the band."

" No. You know I don't want that. I'm just a normal person who wants a normal life. And you're incredibly talented, we both know you were made for more than just normal. This isn't gonna work. I can't be the person you want me to be. I'm not built for that life."

" Then I wont live that-"

"No" you cut him off "I won't let you do that. I won't allow you to give up on your dreams for me. I'm not important enough. And even if I was I would never ask you to. I wont live a life with you that you will eventually resent me for "

" No you don't get to make decisions for me y/n."

" No I won't. You're right I can't. But I can make them for myself."

" Don't do this. You haven't even gave us a chance. Why can't you just try?"

"Eddie look it comes down to two options. Either we deal with with a tolerable amount of pain now and part ways or we stay together and deal with unbearable pain later."

"No. We can just love each other and take one day at a time. I know that I want to be with you y/n. And you can't just say you love me too and expect me not to fight for you."

"Eddie please."

" No. I've waited to long for you. And now that you're here with me, I'm not letting you go. I'm going to do whatever it takes. Because I need more than just a few days together. I want more than a handful of kisses. I'm not saying it's going to be hard. No relationship is easy. But you are important to me. So whatever you need just tell me. What can I do?"

You sat there for a minute trying to process. You were just so certain of your decision to end things just a few minutes ago. But now... no one has ever done this. Proclaim their need for you. Willing to sacrifice everything for you. Who were you for someone to do that for. And if they could do that why couldn't you do the same. Sure you've been in love before. But never did it felt like this.

"Y/n. Tell me what to do."

You looked at Eddie who's eyes were starting to fill with tears. Your face softened and you brows pinched together. You bit your lip and stood up. You held out your hand for him. He hesitated of a moment before letting you lead him back to the room.

You stood in front of the bed looking at each other. You slowly moved to Eddie taking off his jacket and took off your shirt revealing your bare chest.

" Are you sure?" Eddie softly spoke.

You grabbed the back of his neck. " It's the only thing I'm absolutely sure of right now."

Eddie caress your cheek." Please don't ever try and leave me. I'm your's"

Eddie kissed you deeply and his hands moved to your back pressing you further into him. He turned you around to lay you down. You pulled yourself a bit higher on the bed so that your feet wouldn't hang off. You watched as Eddie took off his shirt before he crawled up your body finding your lips again. His hair tickled your neck. You slightly shivered from the touch. Eddie got up and tide his hair in a low bun. Your mouth parted taking him in. He made your body tremble from just looking at you. He kissed you again until your lips were a darker shade of pink almost red. Your fingers made their way to his back stroking his spine. Eddie move his mouth to your neck moaning slightly at your warm soft skin. You let out a small gasp when he bit you gently. You couldn't stop your hips from grinding against his. He grunted at the sudden friction moving his teeth from you and placing a soft kiss were he bit. He moved down to your collar bone. His hot breath felt so good on your skin. Eddie kissed along your chest to your shoulder. One his hands found your breast massage it gently while placing chasting kisses on ever inch of your chest. He pushed himself harder against your aching core. Your chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. You let out a moan when he took your nipple in his mouth slightly grazing it with his tongue. Your nails dug into his shoulders. His mouth let go for your nipple with a small popping sound. He looked at you so lovingly. You touched his face.

" I love you."

Eddie's smile gave you goosebumps. You loved that damn smile.

" I love you." Eddie said before he kissed you again.

He held himself up with one hand and used the other to unbutton your jeans. You watched him get off of you to remove your pants in one slow motion taking your panties with it. You lifted your knees and presses them together. Eddie stood there for a moment drinking in your nakedness.

" God you are so beautiful."

You blushed at his words. You saw him take his chained wallet out and pull out a condom. You sat up and reached for his button and zipper. He helped you slide off the rest of his clothes. His penis hitting his stomach from being at full length. You laid back down propping yourself up with your elbows bringing your knees back up. You studied his every crease on his body. Every tattoo. Every slight muscle. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. You watched as he slid the condom on. While Eddies eyes never left you. He kneeled between your feet touching your knees. He spread your thighs apart kissing each of them before kissing your tummy all the way up to the small patch of skin between your breasts. Your breast fit perfectly in his big callused hand when he massaged it again. You could feel yourself dripping from everything that led up to this point. Your heart pounding in your ears.

" Are you with me?" Eddie whispered looking at you.

" always"

Eddie kissed you. You felt the head of his penis rub against your wet slit. Your head pressed deeper into the pillow. You held on tight to Eddie's waist as he parted your vagina lips. He ran his head over your throbbing clit. Which caused your hips to buckle.

"I love you" Eddie said into your mouth.

You were gonna say it back but you felt Eddie put himself inside of your sex. You and Eddie moaned at the tightness. He waited for you to get use to him before he thrusted in deeper until he was completely in you. He hit a spot that you haven't felt in a long time. You gasped at the pain in pleasure. Eddie's forehead met yours as he picked up his thrust. He went hard and deep. Hitting that your g-spot every time. You felt a knot deep in your core. Eddie groaned when he felt you tightened around him. " God" left his mouth. You moaned softly as you started to reaching your high. " Fuck I'm gonna cum" the words barely left his mouth. You let the orgasm you were holding back go along with Eddies. Eddie pumped the last of his love out and rested himself on you. You both laid there until you could catch your breath. Eddie's lips found yours again. After a moment he pulled his lips away.

" I love you" you said ever so softly.

[lyrenminth]

Crisis (1/2)

NOTE: This is a little bit longer of what I usually write, and by far the most different story, I am not sure if you are going to like it. I wanted to explore the downsides of being with an NFL player, so here it is. I apologized if there is any mistake. 

*

*

Family was all for you, so taking this decision was something you gave a lot of thinking, but also it was true that you need to be happy with yourself to bring happiness for your family. Your child was the first to notice that something was off with you. 

"Mom, are you sad?" he asked you, after you driving him to his football practice.

He was kind, cheerful and very intelligent. Blonde, blue and slant eyes, cute dimples. He was the livid image of Justin, so nobody could say he wasn't his child. And as his child, he was following every step of his father.

You frowned.

"No, no, baby. Why do you think that?"

"You look sad"

"I am a little bit tired"

"Are we gonna go to see daddy's game on Sunday?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"No if you don't end your chores, did you end your homework?  he nodded "clean your room? " He doubted, looking guilty "Go then"

He went running upstairs to clean his room. You prepared a meal, and did some chores around the house. Your phone rang, it was a notification. It was Adele, your bestfriend. She was a lawyer, a traveler, model and many things in life. She was your little pain too. A pain with the name of envy. She sent you a photo of Santorini.

Yes, you have a great family, a rich and athletic husband, a lovely kid, a cute house and two dogs, so why you weren't happy? What was that hole in your chest? You should be grateful, not sad or angry.

"I should be grateful" you whispered, looking at the picture. Suddenly, you felt the urge to cry.

You went to your room, and the first thing you saw was your wedding picture. Justin was hugging you from behind. You looked happy; you were happy. You never thought you would feel this way years later.

You sat on you bed, biting your fingernails, trying not to left all those feelings eating you up.

"I should be grateful" you whispered again.

Another message.

"I wish you were here; the water is amazing. Do you remember how much you wanted to be here? Crazy times"

"Yes, I remember" was all what you said.

Crazy times. When you were young, cheerful, funny. A complete dreamer and nobody could stop you. That's why you ended up with Justin, he was enchanted with your personality. Everything seemed easier back then...when you were someone. You didn't know how easy it would be losing you identity getting in a relationship with him. How lonely you would become be surrounded by people who always wanted something from you or him.

You didn't even know your name anymore. You were Justin's wife, Justin's chick, Will's mother. Everything around you was about him, his work, his achievements, his career, his plans, his future. When the people came to talk to you, they talked about him.

But you knew.

You knew, Justin explained to you. He introduced you to his world and you accepted. He would be gone six month per year, you knew that. So why, why you felt this way?

***

"Yep, he's finally asleep" Justin said, entering. You were already in bed, reading. He was wearing his pajamas, you could see he was sore but you didn't offer a massage as you usually do. He laying down, letting out a grunt.

He stared at you, frowning.

"What's happening? we won" he said.

You couldn't ruin his happiness. You should be happy when he was happy, and sad when he was sad. So, you put your happiest smile.

"I know, you were amazing. I'm so proud of you" you said, giving him a kiss. "Do you wanted to talk about it?"

Justin had the routine of reviewing the game with you after. This time he refused. “Ok, let’s go sleep, then”

“No, tell me what is happening” he asked, softly. You saw the concern in his eyes, that broke you heart. You didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve all the things he gave you.

«I should be grateful»

“Speak to me, we promised to say everything to each other” he insisted. You felt a knot in your throat, deciding what to do. You closed your book, and put it on the nightstand.

"I'm not happy, Justin" you mumbled, allowing yourself that confession. He was serious, reading your face "I'm not happy since a long time, but I can't describe with what things I'm not happy...it just..." You started crying, he tried to hug you but you pushed him away.

"I feel like I don't deserve this, I feel horrible because I should be grateful with my life, with my family, with you. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I don't recognize me anymore" you cried, without being able to look at him in the eye. "I miss those days where I could go wherever I wanted, being silly and carefree about what other people might think. Those days where I follow my path, my dreams"

Justin looked down at his lap. He looked disappointed.  You felt a pain in your chest for his reaction. Sadness and sorrow hit you hard.

"Sorry, I'm a bad wife"

"No, no. Don't said that" he rushed to say "I'm sorry that you've feeling this way, I just that I wish you could tell me sooner but I understand why you didn't" he choose his words carefully "I love you, you are my partner in life, I choose you because I didn't see myself with anyone else. I know that I haven't been present all the time due to my work and I know how difficult it is sometimes"

"Justin, I get it. I still love you, no matter what"

"Then why do I feel like you are saying goodbye" he asked with a broken voice. "We can fix this, whatever it is. You are my family; we have a child together"

Every word took your breath away. You felt bad for made him suffer like that. But you were suffering too, you couldn't comfort him because you were broken. You loved him, but that emptiness you felt bore your own name.

The truth hit you. You had to heal on your own. Sometimes when you spend too much time with someone, you neglect yourself, little by little, you disappear. You love others so intensely that there is nothing left for you. For some it will be selfish, especially for all the material things he has given you, but self-love is complex and fragile.  You loved him, you loved him so much that the best you could do was to work on you to give him the best version of yourself, but you couldn't do it by traveling every weekend. You didn’t born to be a WAG.

“Justin, we can’t fix this, because this is me. I need to find myself again, who I was before meeting you” you explained “I will never stop loving Will and you, never. You taught me so many things, but I want to learn by myself”

“So, you are leaving me” he said.

You nodded. He pressed his lips together, speechless.

“I…I will explain to Will” you said.

“I will respect your wishes” he whispered; his eyes empty “I hope you find yourself”

Everything turned a little bit cold after. You stopped going to his games, stopped sleeping together or sharing time until you moved out. It was like dying slowly. Will felt it too. Asking many questions, but you didn’t know how to explain. His family, your family, everyone saying how wrong you were about this, but that only made you wanting to escape even more. 

Why a woman is only complete with a man by her side?

[angryschnauzer]

Bubbles

Summary: After a long hot day at work and a nightmare journey home, you find your husband has a very welcome and refreshing surprise for you in the form of a full size jacuzzi in your back garden.

Pairing: Captain Syverston x Female Reader Wife (no race or size mentioned)

Fandoms: Sand Castle (Movie), Henry Cavill.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Semi Public Sex, Fingering, Oral (Female Receiving), Unprotected Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Alcohol consumption.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications for future stories. All past works can be found on there or on my AO3.

Bubbles

It had been a long day. Work had been hot and sweaty, customers were grouchy and some even tried to pull the 'speak to the manager' bullshit, even though you were the manager. Traffic had been a nightmare, your car deciding that the middle of a heatwave would be the perfect time for the air conditioning to stop working, simultaneously with a truck of maple syrup hitting the central concrete barrier and spilling its sticky load. 

Snerk. You snorted a laugh through the sweat. Sticky load… your husband would have made a whole bunch of dirty comments and jokes about being covered in sticky loads. You couldn't wait to get home to see him, it was the fact that he had now retired from the Army and would be happily waiting for you at home every night that made each day worthwhile. 

When Sy had finally retired you'd wept tears of joy, every day was a blessing. You'd discussed what you were both going to do with jobs, your contract was up in 3 months time, Sy was drawing a military pension and had saved a considerable nest egg. He'd also taken to industrial upcycling; making lamps and coffee tables out of engines and car parts, which had been massively popular. You had to admit when you saw him in his workshop with his acetylene torch and welding mask on, cutting enormous chunks of metal in half and creating brutal beauty from the elements you were immediately turned on by the raw virility of the sight.

When you eventually pulled onto the driveway, a quick glance towards his workshop told you he'd finished for the day, and as you let yourself into your house you called out to him;

"Sy?"

"Out here" came his slightly muffled reply, and you realised he was probably sitting on the patio out back, nursing a beer.

"I'm gonna run upstairs and take a shower, the aircon in my car has stopped working"

"Darlin, come out here first… i got something that'll refresh you"

Rolling your eyes you started to unbutton your blouse;

"Really Sy, i'm all sweaty and stinky…"

"Woman…" he growled;  "I said get out here…"

If any other man had called you 'woman' you'd knocked them out, but you knew Sy and for him it was a term of endearment. Quietly walking through the kitchen you reached the back door and patio;

"Sy…" you started to speak, but was cut short when you saw what he'd been referring to.

Sat on the corner of your patio, shielded from view by the trellis covered in Clematis blooms was an inflatable hot tub, bubbling away with your mountain of a man sat in it, arms spread out on each side as he held a beer and grinned at you;

"Told ya' i had something that'd cool you down"

Pressing your hand to the side of it you tested the water, smiling when you found it the perfect temperature;

"You bought a hot tub?"

"Rented. Wanted to see if we liked it before we made the investment. Why don't you get in and give it a go?"

"Sure, i'll just go get changed into my bathing costume"

Sy's glinted with mischief;

"Why? I ain't wearing one…"

You weren't sure;

"Its rented? Is it clean?"

"Spent all afternoon flushing the system and giving it a full wipe down, even though the rental company says they do it after each use… i know how you are with hygiene" he moved in the massive tub, moving to the side where you stood;

 "Now are ya gonna get naked or am i gonna have to rip those clothes off of ya?"

A minute later you were climbing in, work clothes hastily discarded in a pile on the patio, Sy holding your hand as he guided you into the bubbly water and you immediately let out a long low moan as the jets of water soothed and massaged your weary body;

"Oh Sy… this feels amazing…"

"C'mere…"

His massive hands cradled your torso, pulling you through the water until you were able to straddle his lap, his mouth meeting yours for a fierce kiss. As your tongues danced together he smoothed his hands over your back, massaging the day's stresses away to the point where let your head tilt back. Resting in his strong arms you let your back touch the water, smiling as the warm summer breeze danced over your breasts, before that skilled mouth was on your breasts, sucking on one nipple then the other, before he shifted and you were floating on the water, his mouth on your pussy. 

You weren’t the tiniest of girls, but you had utter trust in Sy that he could hold you up whilst eating you out. The man would easily heave around 10 foot iron beam railroad tracks to make into coffee tables, he’d pushed his truck home when the engine had died and that is no mean feat when it comes to a Ford F350. So with that knowledge safe in your mind you could thoroughly relax and let his tongue work magic on your clit as his beard tickled your folds. You came with a cry and he swallowed down your essence, before lowering you into the water and onto his lap.

As he lowered you you felt his hardness seek you out, sliding through your folds before you reached down and positioned him at your entrance, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you let yourself be slowly impaled on his shaft. With the worries and stresses of the day easing away with each blissful bubble that popped on your skin you sought out his lips for another kiss as you started to ride him, the friction palatable as the noise of the motor covered the sighs and moans the two of you were making. Sy’s hands firmly gripped your ass, pulling you up and down on his gnarled shaft;

“Fuck… You look so fucking good riding me Darlin’. Definitely gonna get a permanent one of these installed… might get you a coupla’ white bikini’s as i’d love to see these titties through the soaked fabric, would be such a treat…” he grinned at you; “A titty treat…”

Grinning at him you squeezed your pelvic muscles, finally shutting him up so you could concentrate as you chased your orgasm;

“Sure Sy, i’ll get a white bikini… you want me to do the gardening in it too? Watching me on my hands and knees as i plant the petunia’s?”

“Woman, i’ll fucking take you from behind right on the lawn if you do that” he growled, thrusting his hips up sharply and finding your g-spot. One of his hands crept around your hip and between your bodies, seeking out your clit as he ran his calloused thumb over the sensitive nub. From the way he was bouncing you on his lap you could tell he was getting close, his teeth gritted as he tried to hold off from cumming, but with no luck. His hands gripped your hips to stop you from moving in the hope it’d delay his orgasm. You watched as his eyes rolled back in his head and his head fell back against the side of the spa, thrusting his hips up as he swore out a litany of curses as his body reached its peak before he’d have wanted to;

“Fuck fuck fuck… ah god… i’m sorry… fuck…”

Cradling the back of his head in your fingers you stroked at the short hair as you dipped your head down and pressed open mouthed kisses to his neck and shoulders. With his eyes still shut he pulled a hand out of the water and raked it down his face before looking up at you, his blue eyes sparkling;

“Ah fuck i’m sorry Darlin’... lemme see about getting you sorted…don’t get off just yet…”

He slid his hand back between your bodies, his thumb back on your clit. His other hand moved to your breasts, using his mouth on one nipple as he pinched the other between his thumb and forefinger. Writhing on his lap you could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, Sy knowing exactly how to play your body like a guitar as you sang out your siren song that was a blessing to his ears. 

As your orgasm washed over you Sy held you in his arms, letting you ride out your pleasure as he relished the feel of your body surrounding him. Slumped in his arms you nuzzled at his neck, happily riding the waves of pleasure that echoed around your body. 

“You ok there Darlin’?” Sy purred, smoothing his massive palm over your back like a giant bear paw.

“Hmmn” you hummed, stopping mid response when you felt him shift and realised he was hard again; “Sy?”

He looked at you, a smirk on his face as he cocked an eyebrow;

“Darlin… you know when i blow my load real fast i’m ready for another round… your sweet little pussy massaged me back to full health” he pressed a kiss to your nose; “Now turn around and bend over, hand on the side… i’m gonna rail that juicy pussy from behind, see how many times i can make you cum before i shoot load number two”

Manhandling you in the water you let out a shriek as he thrust into you from behind, your walls still tight from your previous orgasm and he did exactly as promised, splitting you open from behind as his powerful thighs railed you harder than the transcontinental express. With his heavy ballsack slapping against your clit you were soon cumming again, Sy fucking you straight through it before he brought you to another orgasm soon after as he filled you with another sticky load.

As you both tried to recover from the energetic synchronised aquatics he pulled you flush with his chest as he sank down into the water, letting you lay back against his chest as your bodies were still joined. His hands skimmed over your torso beneath your breasts, cupping them tenderly;

“We’re getting one of these, right Darlin’?”

“Hmmm, absolutely”

You sat there for a good half hour, cradled in Sy’s arms as you told each other about your day, before your skin wrinkled and it was time to get out.

-

Later that evening Sy had driven the pair of you to the main hardware store in town that he’d rented the Spa from, and you’d ordered the parts and equipment for your very own one. As Sy had started getting deep into conversation with the sales guy who turned out had also recently retired from the Army you tugged on Sy’s sleeve;

“Honey, i’m gonna pop to Walmart next door”

“Sure thing Darlin, i’ll catch up with you in fifteen minutes”

Just as promised Sy found you fifteen minutes later as you browsed through the clothing section, and you spotted that he was swinging a small clothes hangar from his finger;

“What you got there?” you asked

Sy held it up and your eyes practically bulged out of your head; He had found the tiniest white bikini, that although was your size, was little more than three small triangles of fabric connected with the thinnest of strings;

“Exactly what we discussed… now i see ya got a bottle of tequila and some snacks, how about we head home and we can test this out?”

Grinned you nodded;

“Just one thing…”

“Yeah Darlin?”

“We need to grab a few more of those… there’s no way that is gonna survive one wear with you around”

Nodding in agreement Sy grinned, taking the basket from your hand as he wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“See, that’s why i married ya’, thinking ahead…”

He pressed a kiss to your hair as he led you back to the display of swimwear, grinning as you pulled out numerous other cheap pieces of swimwear, knowing full well Sy would destroy them as thoroughly as he destroys your pussy.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Speak Now | Quackity

Requested? Never

Warnings? None?

Summary: You have to watch your best friend and secret crush get married. (Based off Speak Now by Taylor Swift!)

Word Count: 1,581

Alex holds the velvet box out to you, flipping it open to show an elegant wedding ring. Your eyes flip back and forth from the ring to Alex, a nervous smile spread across his lips.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

Honestly, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you liked the ring, didn’t know if you could tell Alex through tight lips and locked jaw that his girlfriend would love it. You didn’t know if you could lie straight through your teeth.

Instead, you wanted to tell him that the ring was perfect but he was giving it to the wrong girl. That he should be showing you the ring while asking the question you had dreamed of for so long.

But unfortunately, that’s not how things work.

You had been in love with your best friend for years now and while you never took Alex for someone who was clueless, he certainly challenged that when it came to your feelings. It was like he became blind to your compliments, your loyalty, your selflessness, your attention, your physical touch, everything. You swore he just thought of it as being “good friends”.

So, the minute he pulled out a diamond ring for his girlfriend, your heart couldn’t help but shatter the little bit left holding out for Alex.

“It’s gorgeous,” you tell him and relief visibly floods through him.

“I’m so excited,” he says, leaning forward and wrapping you up in a hug.

“Me too,” you say quietly into his shoulder, holding back tears.

In the days following, you watched as Alex announced his engagement to you, your friends, and all of his fans. When the notification graced your phone, you couldn’t help but cry. You had become used to Alex not returning your feelings but this? This was permanent and real, and a reminder that Alex didn’t love you the way you loved him.

However, as all best friends do, you put on a smile. You accepted when he asked you to be a part of his wedding party and excitedly planned along with him, taking a piece of your heart out and giving it to Alex every chance and him walking over it unknowingly.

The months leading up to the wedding were excruciating. And you were shocked when they only got worse.

“(y/n)?” Alex asks one day.

You look up at him, nerves coursing through you as he looks at you with worried eyes. Your heart falls, somehow knowing and having no clue what the next words out of his mouth would be.

He sits next to you, his focus on the carpet before him, toeing at the fabric with his foot nervously. He glances at you for a moment as his hands come together in front of him. Everything about him screams anxiety, and you want to rub his back and tell him that everything is going to be okay.

“You,” he hesitates and for a moment you think he’s crying, but convince yourself it’s the terrible lighting in your apartment.

“You can’t come to the wedding,” he finally chokes out.

Your head tilts, and for a moment it feels like someone wrapped a hand around your heart and squeezed.

“Wha-“ you start but Alex talks over you, word vomiting like no tomorrow.

“Claire said she would feel uncomfortable with you there and wants me to take a step back from our friendship.”

Alex’s eyes flicker from the ground he’s so fixated on, to your blank expression. You felt like this was one big prank. That it had to be a joke being uninvited to your best friend’s wedding. While you knew your heart would be cracking and falling to pieces at the altar in front of you when you saw Alex get married, you still didn’t want to miss your best friend’s big life event.

You’re utterly speechless, as Alex apologizes once more, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head and leaving. You sit in the same position, rethinking the conversation for what feels like hours.

Alex felt like he left his heart in that apartment with you. He felt like he had severed a limb, and it was missing after telling you the news about his wedding. Truly, you meant everything to him. You were the girl who had captured his heart and would entrust you with it forever, knowing you’d never do anything to hurt him.

And yet that’s all he was doing to you and himself. He wished all of those years ago he had said something, done something, manned up, and just admitted it to you. But here he was, feeling like he needed to go through with this to hold a semblance of happiness in the future.

You had finally snapped yourself out of the shock, your body moving without really thinking about the motions. You find yourself calling Karl, your best friend who knew everything about the situation between you and Alex. He was even the one to introduce the two of you.

You explain what happened in quiet sentences, Karl insisting he’ll be over in a flash. It’s true, it feels like you’re up and answering the door in the next few minutes to a pity-stricken Karl.

“Honey,” he frowns, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I don’t want to see him get married but I don’t want to miss it,” you whine and Karl’s frown deepens.

“They gave me a plus one, just come with me,” he decides and you look up at him, hope in your eyes.

“I’m sure as hell not going alone and definitely not going without you there,” you giggle lightly and lean up to press a kiss to Karl’s cheek.

As the day of the wedding approaches, you and Alex talk less and less. He had distanced himself ever since breaking the news to you and you had half hated it and half appreciated it. You were able to nurse your heartbreak and prepare yourself for one of the hardest days.

On the day of the wedding, you get ready with a hint of nerves. Your hands shake putting your earrings in, and it’s practically impossible to fasten your heels. Just as you’re attempting to put on a necklace, the doorbell rings. You sigh, heading over and swinging it open to see Karl standing before you.

You take in his appearance, a soft smile crossing your lips as you hold out the necklace in front of you.

“Can you help?”

Karl doesn’t respond at first, scanning your body up and down in awe. You had picked out a pale pink dress, white heels, and scarce jewelry but you look stunning nonetheless.

“Holy smokes,” he breathes out.

“Oh shut up,” you joke but smile wide at your friend regardless.

Karl finally takes the necklace from your hands, pulling it around your neck and fastening it till it sits just right. His hands trail over your shoulders, squeezing them lightly before dropping his hands.

“Ready?”

“As I ever will be.”

The venue is gorgeous, nothing less for the bride. You and Karl make your way in, your eyes wandering about the room and taking in the details. You find her family sitting in the front row, annoyed looks matching their obnoxious outfits. You try not to frown as you see people greeting each other fondly, speaking fond words about the future husband and wife.

You find seats together and Karl watches you as your face falls, hearing the sound of the wedding march. The music is grating on your ears, another reminder that you never wanted to be here in the first place.

Everyone begins to stand, and you turn to look at the girl who had stolen your best friend’s heart. She floats down the aisle like a pageant queen, her dress flowing behind her. You risk a glance at Alex and find he’s already staring at you.

Alex was shocked when he saw you sitting with his best friend at his wedding. His heart seized at the sight of you in a beautiful dress, and his mind wanders to how you would look in a wedding dress, walking towards him now.

It feels like the wedding goes by in a blur, your heart shattering slowly, piece by piece as vows are exchanged.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,”

It’s dead silent as the preacher looks over the crowd, and without a second thought, you stand. From next to you Karl’s eyes widen and you feel your hands shake as you look at Alex. The rest of the crowd stares up at you with horrified looks, and you half expect someone to yell at you to sit back down.

“I am not the kind of girl who should be doing this,” you start your eyes never leaving Alex’s.

“But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl,” you finish.

The entire crowd is in an uproar, the only person on your side being Karl who cheers loudly at your proclamation. Alex steps towards you and you make your way out of the aisle. He approaches you, uncertainty is in his eyes.

“Don’t say yes, run away with me, make the right choice,” you whisper, and his look of uncertainty falls into one of careful consideration.

“Okay,” he says and a smile widens onto your lips.

“Let’s go.”

[deexchanel]

It's not perfect.

Word Count:

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x BlackFem!OC

Warning: Swearing, Pregnancy, Angst and Sadness.

Summary: Imani is tired of Sebastian's shit. He doesn't understand that if he doesn't act right, she won't be in the picture long.

A/N: I've been going through something and y'all bare with me.

"Sebastian?" Imani walked into his modern apartment. The couple has had their on and off moments and right now it's really rocky for them.

"In my room!" He replied while she sat her keys down the kitchen countertop. She is 7 months pregnant with his son so she waddled all the way to his room. The problems they faced were he was always either texting another girl, liking their photos, or interacting with them in some way. Sebastian loves Imani but can't get out of his old ways.

This is why their co-parenting but as of right now trying to fix their relationship. "Where you going?" Imani sat on his bed, taking off her sandals. Sebastian was just in his pants placing his shirt on the bed while he went to brush his teeth and etc.

"I have a couple of interviews today but I won't be out all day. Maybe we could go on a date once I'm finished?"

Imani felt her face getting hot," Yes that sounds good." Even though all their problems, he still had an effect on her.

"Anthony should be here in any minute." He said walking into his bathroom. Imani nodded, getting comfortable on the bed. Sitting there for a couple for a second, rubbing her belly, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

"I don't want to be stressed for the next couple of days." She mumbled trying to ignore it but it buzzed again grabbing her attention. Imani bit her lip, giving in to her suspicion,b and picked up Sebastian's phone.

Holli- I miss you so much, baby.

Holli- Are you still coming over after your interview? Just hang out with Imeri next time.

It was the first two messages shown on the notification screen. Tears welled in Imani's eyes because it was too good to be true. Using her face I.D. to get in. More fell as she read the countless texts between Sebastian and Ms.Holli.

Sebastian walked out of the bathroom seeing Imani holding his phone. He knew he was fucked. "Imani..."

"Yeah just hang out with Imeri next." Imani gave a dry laugh wiping her tears. "I knew this shit was too good to be true."

"She doesn't mean anything to me, Imani." Sebastian tries with her but she wasn't listening.

"You don't even have to lie Sebastian. We're never going to fix what we have because you're stuck in your old ways!" She cried struggling to put on her sandals since her bump was in the way. "Ugh, I can't get this stupid shoe on!"

"Imani I'm sorry okay? I wasn't thinking." Sebastian reasons with her trying to take the shoe but she snatches away.

To him, texting other females never bothered him because no one has ever corrected him in the past. He has no self-control and doesn't know it. But seeing Imani heartbroken over him tore him to pieces, he hates seeing her cry. "I'm so sorry."

"You don't mean it, Sebastian! This is all lies because once I accept it, you only be the perfect boyfriend for two days then you right back to being a hoe. I'm tired." Imani gets out the bed, heading down the hallway. Sebastian grabs her hand to keep her from leaving. He doesn't want Imani out of his life, she means everything to him plus she carries his son.

"Imani I’m sorry baby. I’m really in love with you and with all the strength in my body, I will do better for you."

"Sebastian you don't mean it. Let's face it, this relationship is a mistake. Hell, I'm not even your type."

"What the hell Imani, you are my type! Imani stops pushing me away. I know I need to work on myself but I also need you in my life too. You complete me." Sebastian pulled her into his arms, feeling her stomach against him.

She completely broke down, "What...What did I do to deserve this??" Imani clutched onto Sebastian's shirt. He closed his eyes placing his chin on top of her forehead. He just held her while she cried.

"Imani I'm going to be a better man for you and for our son. I promise."

"Sebastian we can't be together." Imani pulled back from the hug, wiping her tears. Seb looked at her in disbelief.

"What? No!, Imani, I'm sorry I fucked up okay? Imani..." His face turned red from panic. She kissed his cheek, then walked out of his apartment. Out his life.

He just lost his future wife and son.

Sebastian now knew that his actions definitely had consequences.

-----------

Okay so it's something short but like I said I've been going through shit plus having baby fever so why not put those two together!

This was something just to take my mind off it.

If it's corny, my bad, and plus I didn't feel like repeatedly writing the word Y/N so I used an actual name.

Plus it's probably gone be a while before I write something else. I move into college next weekend.

stay slutty my friends!

[mysmegrace]

Hii! Could I request “why is it so hard for you to believe me?” “I love you” prompts with Jumin, Zen and Saeran? Thank you!

hello~ omg anon you are giving me too much fun with these prompts lmao. i’ve decided to split them up in a fanfic style. i’ll post jumin’s here, then later zen’s and saeran’s. i’ll leave the links to them here once they become released but i’ll also have the links in my masterlist. have a great day!

summary: jumin comes across a text notification that flashes on mc’s phone. being curious, he reads it. things don’t add up to him and he accuses mc of cheating. mc is heartbroken, as the text was nothing more than a friendly conversation between cousins. it’s only until later does jumin realize his mistake.

topics / tw: cheating, angst, pregnancy, death, wrongfully accused individuals, car accidents, drunk driving, definitely not spoiler free. 

words: 5.3k

*reminder: you can check out my masterlist to see which requests i am currently working on!*

just wanna put out there that the title is a lyric from shin yong woo’s (jumin’s VA) song. i plan to title saeran’s fic and zen’s fic the same way, just with different songs. here’s a link to the song if you’re interested.

Sad Endings Stay Sad

---

october 5th marked the birth of one of south koreas brilliant billionaires. and of course, there were ups and downs to that kind of life. living the rich lifestyle while working your life away for your young years. however, birthdays were supposed to be exemptions for the hectic ways of that life for just a day.

jumins birthdays consisted of four main concepts. birthday presents from people he’s only spoken to once, being met with “happy birthdays” whenever you turned the corner, parties being held in his honor (four-to be exact), and his favourite part, time spent with you and elizabeth the third.

he could endure the day as long as you were at home, safe and secure, waiting patiently for his return. knowing that made his struggles a little more bearable. he had all he could’ve asked for in his possession, things money can’t buy.

hence why he always asked you to refrain from giving him birthday gifts. he already had everything he needed, he could buy anything should he desire it, they took up unnecessary space, and they were pointless to him.

so when he arrived home that night to pick you up alongside driver kim in order to attend the han family birthday dinner, the look of confusion on his face once he laid his eyes upon the birthday gift left for him on the kitchen table was understandable. 

had you forgotten his wishes, or were you simply teasing him? he knew his wife liked to play around from time to time. perhaps this was just another one of your silly “i love you” gifts. he decided to give you the pleasure of watching him open your gift, seeing your face light up playfully as he received a small plushie or tiny confetti canon. 

little to his knowledge, you had planned something different to gift him. something incredibly more significant that you both were expecting to happen in the near future. after five years of marriage, you were excited to be sharing this news with him.

facing the mirror, you had heard the door open and close, signaling his arrival. meanwhile you were still getting ready for the dinner. so you allowed him a couple minutes to himself, taking in the foreign object greeting him.

with the last flick of mascara, you reached for the door handle, preparing how to answer the questions he was bound to ask. walking out to greet your husband as you weakly closed the door behind you, he turned his head to the sound of your heels meeting with the floor. 

giving you his typical smile, the one that made you want to melt into the expensive floor tiles, he walked to greet you as you made your entrance in the living room. his beautiful wife was always a wonderful sight to see at home.

regardless, he knew you both had a place to be and he needed to hurry the conversation up. the last thing he wanted to be was late. so he questions,

“love, i thought i told you not to gift me anything this year. having you with me is more than enough.”

a modest giggle left your lips, those beautiful lips he would kiss every morning before work. you made a small gesture to the present, telling him to open it. yet as he picked the gift up, you noticed you didn’t have the birthday card on you. you couldn’t have a birthday gift without a birthday card. everything had to be perfect. 

after all, it wasn’t everyday that you would announce you were expanding your small family. so you quickly exclaimed, “one second, i forgot something!”. he stopped, taken aback but respecting your wishes. he watched as you ran off to the bedroom, leaving your phone on the table.

as you were off scrambling through your shared drawers, he was examining his surroundings to pass time. the clock seemed to be forward by five seconds...strange. he’d deal with that later. yet suddenly the ping of your phone caught his attention.

you had a text message. he bent forward ever so slightly to read the contents of the text, not daring the move the phone from his original spot. you two trusted each other, no way would he consider this a branch of your privacy. despite that, he felt the need to read the previous messages with this person after reading what was shown on your scree.

he could feel his heart drop as he read, “okay see you then, love you”. he had never heard of this man you were texting with, but why was he texting you using that language? the language of a lover that should be reserved to coming from him towards you, not from anyone else.

and from the looks of things, you had made plans to meet this man beforehand. you had never made any mention of him yet you made plans with him? his heart was racing, he wasn’t sure if it would remain in his chest at this rate.

swiping up to investigate further, he was met with your password screen. thinking nothing of it, he inputs your password. the same one you had for years and shared with him, even when you changed it. however this time he was met with an innocent password notification.

surely this was a mis-input on his end. re-entering your password with a slower, more accurate, finger aim. the outcome was no different, “incorrect password”. why had you changed your password and why hadn’t you told him?

things were not adding up. all rational thoughts were leaving his mind as everything he had never wanted to happen might have been happening right in front of his eyes. 

meanwhile you were continuing to search for the card in the bedroom, you couldn't find it anywhere. yet your attention directed to the hallway, hearing the voice of driver kim throughout the house, yelling “you’re going to be late, hurry”.

crap, you thought. things would have to wait, on your side and jumin’s. he had no time to question you about the text, silently deciding to recluse into a reserved state for the rest of the evening, from everyone, including you.

walking out of the bedroom, you met jumin in the hallway as he picked up the umbrella sitting beside the door to shield the two of you from the downpour of rain outside. opening the door, he left, barely leaving it open for you. that was nothing like jumin. perhaps he had rushed because of the time, you thought.

through a slow car ride, you felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness. he wasn’t acknowledging your presence, which was quite unlike him. his face just remained with the same blank expression facing forward. 

this behaviour continued all throughout dinner. only talking when expected to, turning his shoulder everytime you walked towards him, and disregarding any words you spoke to him. you knew this man like the back of your hand, there was 100% something bothering him.

what took a prick to your heart, however, was how he hadn’t told you what was on his mind yet. you understood the concept of privacy, but you had promised each other to always confide in the other through anything, so why was this time different?

who knew two hours could feel like two days as you waited for the event to come to an end. that way, you could finally confront him about the situation. it was killing you. 

in the corner of your eye, you watched as a few of the associates started to clear up the area. you could feel the breath you weren’t aware of holding release as you began thinking about the next course of action. knowing your love, he doesn’t make sense of things unless they’re said blatantly. 

finishing up with respectful goodbyes, jumin lightly signified for you to join his leave. boarding the car, nothing was changed since the car ride to the event. just the presence of jumin, driver kim, and yourself. now you had to encourage yourself to sit through another awkward car ride with your anxiety consuming you.

you found yourself at a slight ease once driver kim had pulled up to the home you and jumin shared. it wasn’t long before you found yourself alone with jumin in the comfort of the familiar walls. just as you began to get your words out, you were interrupted by your husbands deeper tone of voice.

“explain the text on your phone from earlier” he said, almost as if he were making a statement. the feeling of your jaw slightly dropping didn’t catch your attention, but it caught jumins. taken aback, you start rethinking all the texts you had received from that day. however you couldn’t come up with any results that would warrant his question being asked.

taking notice of your face, he continues, obviously not expecting a response from you anytime soon, saying “i saw the text you received earlier from a male saying he’d see you soon, even referring to you as love, what is that about?”

you couldn’t reply. you didn’t know what to say. were you really being accused of cheating right now? did his trust for you fall that much..? yet you hadn’t seen such a text. truth be told, you haven't even looked at your phone since you left to grab the card. 

your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, hearing “not to mention that you’ve changed your password to your phone and haven’t told me. haven’t we agree to rely this information to each other?”. at this point, you weren’t sure if you were in shock or dreaming. surely this wasn’t real, you would never cheat on him. the only texts that were kind of similar to what he said to have seen were the plans to meet up with your friend and close cousin.

other than that, nothing he was saying was making sense. yet how come you couldn’t respond..? you didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t let him go on another minute thinking you had cheated. with your phone now in the bedroom, it wasn’t like you could walk away to check what he was speaking of from the living room.

“are you cheating on me?” he asked, clearly not wanting to waste anymore time before deciding his next move. mustering up the little willpower you had left, you mumbled back “no”, leaving space to continue, but not knowing what to continue with.

a sign escaped his lips, before they parted to speak, “you’re not very convincing. you have nothing to say for the text message and sudden password change, this is very unlike the mc i know, or used to know.” those last few words sparked something in you.

perhaps it was because of the shock of the situation or the emotional imbalance you were currently dealing with, but you started to fill with many negative emotions, more so than before. betrayal, anger, and defeat were beginning to run rampant. you knew that you could not prove your innocence to jumin in this state.

giving it a go, you start to confront his accusations, saying “i don’t know what you’re talking about. i have never, and will never, cheat on you. why don’t you believe me? i love you! how could you think so little of me? are you that insecure to think every man i talk to is someone i’m trying to persue?”

oh no, you thought. you hadn’t meant to touch on his insecurities like that. you let them slip in a fit of hurt, but didn’t think about what you were saying in detail. you felt incredibly guilty as soon as the words jumped out. maybe, a night apart would be good to calm the both of you down and think rationally. 

therefore, you followed up saying “i’m sorry, i’m going to leave for now, i can’t do this tonight”. quickly looking down as to not be swayed by any expression he makes, you nearly run to the bedroom.

pulling out the backpack you had since you were 18, you unzipped it to prepare for everything. you would only take essentials, such as your phone and some cash you had earned on your own, securing the items before turning the door.

walking out to the hall, you saw from the corner of your eye how jumin had left, leaving the area empty. yet one thing caught your eye, that being the present you had left from earlier.

not thinking about it much, you ran to grab it, shoving it in your bag as you left through the front door. in your unusual luck, no security guards were around. giving you the perfect chance to left without bringing yourself anu attention.

reaching the outdoors, you begin walking. to where, you haven’t decided yet. after all, you had a lot to think about. refocusing your mind after a few disappointing seconds, you pulled out your phone, being met with the lockscreen of jumin and elizabeth the third taking a nap together.

oh how things have changed in such a short time. looking through your notifications, a message from you cousin had crossed your eyes. “see you then, love you” it read. oh god, how would you explain that to jumin tomorrow.

 you hadn’t introduced him to your cousin yet, mainly because he lived half way across the world. the two of you had always been close however, being there for each other when your immediate families weren’t. saying “i love you” was normal, because as children the only time you would hear those words were from each other.

never have you even thought that it could be interpreted as a romantic relationship. for many reasons, the biggest being that you were biologically related and he didn’t have a romantic attraction towards women.

thinking about it, you could understand how jumin could have taken it. as for the password, you had only changed it because of the employee who had taken your phone without your knowledge correctly guessed the password, attempting to become closer with the chairman. 

coming back to your senses, you find yourself looking down the empty road with only the streetlights and moon providing you any sense of sight in the late night. you began looking for hotels nearby, coming across an affordable one for the night.

only problem being that it was 30 minutes away by car, and in your tired state you were not willingly to walk for so long. so off to booking a cab you went. finding the cheapest option, saving some money for anything you may need later, you promptly requested a ride. 

with the cab puling up 10 minutes later, you began your journey to your  residence for the night. the wind hitting your face from the open window as you were riding provided you with serenity, reminding you that you were still living in this moment.

as the minutes passed, you started noticing some questionable things about the driver. sure you weren’t an expert driver, but you were fairly certain cars weren’t supposed to be driving over the white line dividing the lanes. you weren’t oblivious to the cars unnecessary fast speed either. was this driver okay, you thought.

as time went on, you could only feel the car getting faster and faster. you tried getting the drivers attention, but to no avail. now they were driving completely in the opposite lane. only to switch over, then back, then over, then back.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared. you could feel your heart racing, almost like it were about to jump out of your chest, with your gut telling you something horrible was about to happen.

everything happened so fast. half way through the trip, a car driving towards the vehicle as the driver was driving in the wrong lane again, crashed into you head on. you started grabbing onto random things in the car as they flew around, just now noticing the several empty vodka bottles in the trunk. you felt yourself spinning inside the car uncontrollably.

glass had pierced through several parts of your body, deriving from the mirrors. with no warning, the car had fallen off the road, down through the wooded hill on the side.

with the driver now passed out on the stirring wheel, you were at a lost on what to do. the only option was to relax and pray you’d survive. suddenly, you shot forward in your seat as the car collided with one of the many trees. you felt a piercing pain throughout your body, yet your brain had no time to reregister where the pain was coming from as you passed out with your head on the drivers seat.

yet jumin was completely unaware of this. he had walked off to pour a glass of wine, and saw that you left not long after.

being left alone was nothing unfamiliar to him, but it became an extremely unpleasant circumstance after he had formed a relationship to you. he always thought you would be there with him 24/7, but now that wasn’t the case.

he couldn’t wrap his head around the events that just took place. of course he trusted you, but he couldn’t ignore the text. needing clarification as soon as possible, he contacted seven.

knowing his hacking abilities, he could only rely on him to give him peace of mind. he knew it wasn’t right, but he felt the circumstance was understandable enough. hence why he asked seven to hack into mc’s phone without giving him too much detail.

seven hesitantly agreed, it was her husband after all. if there were any affairs going on, though he doubted it, he deserved to know. getting to work, jumin got his results quickly. he was sent dozens of screenshots containing the conversation between her and this man. 

it was only an easy job for seven, hacking into phones was nothing for the genius. while reading through the text messages, jumin became overwhelmed with guilt.

he read as they reminisced over their childhoods, talked about what the future held, and even planning to meet each others significant others. he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. had he really driven her away because he assumed the worst of her?

the sooner he could find where she was staying, the better. apologizing was his first priority, he would answer to his work later. being wrecked with remorse, jumin sat facing the window overlooking the city, preparing for the worst as he became increasingly more drunk as time went on.

he didn’t want to live a life away from his soulmate because of one stupid mistake. the years you had spent together meant too much to be thrown away so effortlessly. calling seven back, he asked for him to track you down.

there were many ways he could go about this. he could track her phone, follow cctv footage, or go looking around himself. whichever way he choose, jumin would give him the resources possible to do so. it made his heart break thinking how you might be spending the night alone, crying to your pillow instead of him.

upon tracking your phone, as seven had chosen to do, he had to do a double take. things weren’t adding up. were you sleeping down a hill? deciding to get clarification before taking the wrong moves, he decides to follow you along cctv footage as well.

that way, he’d be able to directly see what you were up to. following along carefully, everything seemed normal. well, as normal as the situation could get. however it didn’t take him long to catch onto the drivers horrible driving. just like you had thought, he knew something bad was going to happen.

as time went on, he watched in horror as he witnessed the car getting hit, spinning off the road, smashing the windows, and ending up in the ditch as it aggressively hit a tree in the wooded area. seven hasn’t been speechless many times in his life, but he couldn’t say anything at this moment in time.

after a minute of sitting with his face close up to the monitor, he recollects himself as he dials jumins number. the reality of the situation kicks in. how would he be able to tell him that his wife had gotten in a serious car accident? one that definitely killed the driver, there would be no way in hell they would’ve survived the impact.

“jumin, she got into a car accident. she’s besides the road outside of the city. we need to call somebody” he said, his voice slightly raising as he begins to panic. his friend was in a car accident, how could he not panic? 

jumin didn’t give his mind time to process the situation before calling driver kim to take him to the scene of the accident. everything else could wait. he couldn’t find himself caring about the cheating accusations at the moment, his wife was possibly dead.

god, that broke him. his soulmate might be dead. no, she couldn’t be. she’s survived so much in her young life, a car accident wouldn’t take her that easily. but in case of the worst scenario, he needed to be prepared.

on the way to the scene, he arranged the best doctors to treat her in the nearest hospital. even if she were to end up depending on him for the rest of her life, he would be there everyday. 

he could hear the sounds of sirens as they approached the scene, increasing his anxiety more and more. practically jumping out of the car as they arrived, he laid his eyes upon a box of metal extremely crushed, what he assume to be the car.

it was horrendous. the windows were completely gone with glass everywhere, the hood was shriveled up towards where the front mirror was supposed to be, and two tires had rolled off of the car.

what was of more concern to him was his wife, who was being lifted onto a stretcher. there wasn’t much he could see over the paramedics, but what he did see wanted to make him crawl up into a ball and pretend like it never happened.

like this was all a dream. like he didn’t make her want to leave their safe home, resulting in her injuries. wasting little time, he spoke to the paramedics as they examined you. careful to not direct their attention off of you, but still asking questions.

“is my wife okay? what happened?” he asked. he knew the answer to a certain extent, but he needed someone to give him the facts. not moving an eye off of your body, a male paramedic responded “we don’t know for sure. we will give you the results at hospital once we can conduct a proper exam. what i can tell you is that she’s alive, though looks to be in critical condition. the driver has passed unfortunately”.

with all due respect, he didn’t care about the drivers life in this moment. they had almost taken your life with theirs, so why should he feel sorry? the paramedic continues “as for what happened, we’re still actively investigating but this is very likely to be a case of drunk driving due to the empty vodka bottles and the drivers blood alcohol levels.”

he had to pause and compose himself, because he nearly had a heart attack hearing that information. how could someone put their passengers life in danger like that? did they not know how special you were? perhaps the driver was lucky to be dead, because if they had survived, they would be living the rest of their life behind bars.

he would get you justice for this one day, he promised himself. with jumin being allowed to ride with you in the ambulance, he quickly hopped in as you were being loaded in. 

now he was given a clear view of your face right in front of his eyes. a face so beautiful given so many scars. the glass in your face, the bruises, the blood leaking from your head, they were all staring at him. 

he could do nothing but stare at you the entire ride. he was worried you would give up on him if he were to turn his back. the shallow breaths you took in reminding him of your living form. 

the sights around him blurred as you entered the hospital, only focused on you. he followed until a nurse told him to take a seat in the waiting room as you were rushed into surgery upon further examination.

hence why he found himself surrounded by white walls on the night after his birthday. staring straight ahead as to live fully in his head for the time being. now was when he could truly feel himself becoming tired. most likely the alcohol had worn off on him, leaving him in a haze.

3 minutes turned into 30 minutes, which turned into 1 hour, which turned into 2 hours, which turned into 3 hours. all extremely drawn out times, the only interception being the visit from the paramedics.

they had given him the things you had brought with you, many bent or broken. there laid your essentials as well as the present you have given him earlier. he could try to open the present, but it would be no use. it had already been deemed unrecognizable just by the packages damage.

exactly 200 minutes, over 3 hours, later, he was greeted by the main surgeon. mentally preparing himself for the outcome, he listens as the surgeon speaks, saying “mr. han, we tried everything we could..”

no, this wasn’t happening. he knows how this goes, but he doesn’t want to accept it. if there is a god out there, please make this be a big nightmare, he thought. yet he knows, he knows. this is real, too real.

the surgeon continues, “...unfortunately she had succumbed to her injuries. she fought until her last breath...” he blanked, being left speechless. this couldn’t be real, you can’t leave him like that. you can’t. you were supposed to grow old together.

he could feel as every structure and thing with significance fell in his life. hell, he didn’t know if he still had a life outside of you. how would he go on..? you had showed him the path to true love, accepting him like no one else ever had.

his company flourished with you present, people being grateful you were there to convince him to be a tad more human and give some laid back time. you had lightened up everyone’s life in many ways.

“...the baby unfortunately did not survive either..”

cutting off his thought process, he was now faced with confusion. the baby? what was the surgeon talking about? “what baby?” he asked.

“the baby, as in the baby you two were expecting in around 7 months?... were you not aware?” the surgeon responded. she was pregnant and hadn’t told him...? there’s no way this was actually happening. maybe they got her confused with another patient. he would know if she was pregnant, wouldn’t he?

his thoughts were cut off by the surgeon pulling up her medical records, confirming his previous statement. everything was there. he couldn’t believe, there was too much going on.

he first lost his wife and now he lost his unborn child, one he didn’t even know existed. sensing the agonizing energy in the room, the surgeon leaves with his best wishes. now left alone, he was stuck. 

he had no idea what to do. he felt like crying, could he even cry...? everything just felt so numb as he realized he was on his own again. allowing his face to drop and relax, he stared at the floor thoughtless. 

somehow his father knew and showed up at the hospital. had jumin called him? he couldn’t remember if he were honest, everything was going in one ear and out the other. he doubted if he was even seeing things right.

later, as he was invited to give his last goodbyes before her body would be taken to the morgue, he spoke to his love for the last time.

“i’m so sorry i couldn’t protect you...thank you for giving me the life i’ve always wanted. i never meant to hurt you like i did, please give me your forgiveness through the afterlife. take care of our child up there, my love for you won’t stop until my heart does. rest easy darling”.

grabbing a hold of your delicate hand for the last time, he placed a kiss as he left. letting you go like the princess you were. eventually he found himself outside your room door, standing in the narrow hallway. was this it for him? nothing else mattered to him as much as you did.

finding himself at home once again, the sun being awake at this point, everything hit him like a truck. only this time, he could feel his tears plaque his face. last night you were breathing, this morning you weren’t.

how could the universe do this to him? hadn’t he proved himself worthy enough of you? in the back of his head, he was reliving the event every second. he would never forgive himself for what he said to you the night before your death. he would blame himself for the rest of his life.

he could only hope you would have forgiven him by time he meets you again up there. the next week was nothing but a blur, the only thing he could remember was your funeral.

how you laid so beautifully down, now at eternal peace. being laid to rest with the child he never got to meet, but already loved so much. everyone said their goodbyes, as your friends wept for hours. 

finding himself at home again, he really started to hate the place. he wasn’t meant for only him. yet at the same time, he couldn’t leave. you had lived here with him for years, your mark was stick. 

as advised to do so by many, he cleared out the drawers and closet of your clothing to save in a box. one he would take with him to the grave. amongst the pile of clothes occupying the top shelf, an envelop met with his head. standing in confusion for no more than a minute, he opens it.

he could feel his eyes swell with silent tears as he read the contents of the envelope. it was a card with a picture of an ultrasound. things were making sense, you were planning to surprise him for his birthday. he couldn’t believe what he had done.

he couldn’t go on. it all hurt him too much. stopping the cleaning process, he went to lay on his bed. observing the photo of the unborn child, he couldn’t control as the tears fell, clouding his vision in seconds.

he laid there for the following evening hours, fantasizing about a life with you and the little one. wondering which parent they would’ve taken after most, innocently hoping it would’ve been you. imagining them getting married, having a happy family of there own.

but he would never experience that while on earth now that you were no longer under the sky. over time, he let fatigue overcome him, drifting off with the ultrasound photo held to his chest.

that night, he could’ve sworn it was you how had embraced him and whispered “i love you” quietly in his ear. anyone might call him crazy, or say that he’s going crazy despite his usual rational nature.

no matter what anyone else thought, he knew it was you. there was no doubting that.

---

01:32 AST - 07/28/21