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jackactuallywrites · 4 months

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Hidden Paradise

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit (detailed shagging)

Warnings: Unprotected sex and also shower sex which we all know is unsafe

Summary: You walk in on a man in the shower, it takes you seeing him in the skull mask a week later to realise it was Ghost, and he is very intrigued by your reaction

Notes: This absolutely wouldn’t be possible without @xxven my muse and pookie and beta reader who gave me the plot 🤍❤️ (also raven on TikTok for making a hot thirst trap that inspired a whole scene)

Word Count: 4,195 (I am very horny for ghost)

ao3 link

There was very little luxury to be found on a military base; your military fatigues were never soft, your boots were the cheapest given by the contractors, your bed squeaked every time you so much as moved an inch, and there wasn’t so much as a tealight allowed in the barracks.

However, you’d found a quiet sanctuary. Far from the rest of the buildings on the base, there was a small shower block, disused and forgotten about in favour of the newer, more convenient showers. The water pressure wasn’t all that great, and the tiles would probably never return to whatever shade of white they’d started out as, but all that mattered was that it was so wonderfully, blissfully quiet.

Silence was one of the hardest commodities to come across on a military base; there was always something going on, whether it be a training exercise with a hard-edged sergeant screaming at recruits or the grunts trying out whatever shiny new piece of equipment the government had seen fit to waste money on, but out there in the shower block, muffled by a copse of trees, there was nothing. Beautiful, precious, nothing.

Today had been yet another long lesson in tedium, worsened by the fact that your most beloved friends were out in the field, busy repairing the vehicles with whatever they could scavenge from the base. You already felt exhausted at the idea of how much paperwork you’d have to do after they’d torn through the place, and the day proved you right, with you having to go to every single place in the garages to check what stock had been taken as mechanics had an annoying habit of forgetting to write down what they’d used. It was long into the evening by the time you’d finally finished putting in the orders to replace every strange bit of junk the mechanics had used, and all you could think about was the long shower you were going to take.

The route through the forest was one of the only places you could get away with wearing your headphones and listening to music without getting scolded by the sergeant on patrol, and you took advantage of this privilege every time, blasting some classic disco music in your ears as you approached the shower block, blissfully unaware of the world outside. If not, you might have noticed the sound of the shower running.

As such, you walked into the block thinking of nothing but how your new eucalyptus shower steamer would smell, having got fairly good reviews online. You already had a favourite shower at this point, the one on the very end, with the best water pressure that the rusted old pipes could provide, though it had no door to speak of. You walked along the yellowed tile floor, passing by the empty showers until you finally reached your favourite one, only to find that it was very much not empty.

Standing under the sputtering stream of water was a tall, well-built man, his tan back glistening under the hundreds of droplets of water, highlighting the various white scars on his back, some of them small, some of them intimidatingly large. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander down, admiring the muscles in his back and perfectly toned legs, as well as a surprisingly sculpted ass. Whoever he was, he was statuesque in his beauty, as though he had been carved out of marble, and as he turned around to face you, showcasing the golden hair that trailed down from his abs, you caught a glimpse of his shaft, thick and long, yet quickly covered by a large hand.

It was that movement that broke the lustful spell you were under, and your eyes finally stopped ogling his body and flicked up to his face. You didn’t recognise him, not his pale green eyes or his crooked nose, but you could absolutely recognise the outrage on his face, and you yanked down your headphones, keeping your eyes firmly above his waist, “I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was in here.” His voice was little more than a snarl, “Get out.” You had absolutely no desire to argue with a man built like that, so you gave a quick nod and hurried back out of the shower block, not willing to spend a single second more in his presence.

Since your encounter in the showers, not a single night had gone past where you hadn’t dreamed about the man, his body, his hands, the dark blond hair that led down his navel, and the thick veins on his forearms. It lurked in the back of your mind, eternally present as a lustful little memory to entertain you during the more boring moments of your day.

Yet again, you were in another meeting writing down what items had been used over the week and what needed to be ordered for the next month's exercise. It was made slightly more interesting by the fact that this time, you were working with the SAS, and not just that, but with some of the most feared soldiers there were, including the worst of the worst, Ghost .

You swore you could almost feel the insidious aura coming from the man in the skull mask, as though it was radiating off him in dark waves. When he spoke, his words were sharp and to the point, never expending more energy than was strictly necessary, and rarely directing his attention to you, sitting in silence and taking notes, not that you were complaining. Every time the man spoke, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck prickle as though your body was trying to warn you that he was dangerous. It was only toward the end of the meeting that you finally spoke up, standing and reciting everything that you’d written down in your notebook.

It was times like that where you’d have to put on a brave face as if you feared the room of men no more than a pack of kittens, making sure your voice was loud and firm, forcing them to listen to you. None of them seemed particularly interested; after all, you were a perfect, albeit boring professional, yet you remained undeterred, making eye contact with each of them. Even Ghost was looking at you; you could see those pale green eyes watching you from underneath his skull mask with a strange intensity. You remained undeterred, staring back at the man as you read out the various things that were in stock and what would have to be ordered, yet there was something niggling at the back of your head. Those eyes were strangely familiar.

It took you a second to remember, and then the barely buried memory came back: the beautiful man in the shower, his body glistening, his toned muscles, and the dark blond hair that covered his navel. The words in your mouth died on your tongue, and you saw Ghost’s eyebrow raise underneath his mask as if he was intrigued by your reaction to him. You cleared your throat, hoping that the heat you felt in your cheeks wouldn’t show up on your skin as you dropped your eyes back down to your notebook, pointedly ignoring him as you focused back on your task, ensuring that you hadn’t missed anything.

Inexplicably, Ghost spoke up, interrupting your admittedly dull recital of your list, “How soon can we get a restock of the M16 mags?” His question forced you to look over at him, and his pale green eyes seemed as though they were trying to drill right through your head. You refused to back down this time, meeting his gaze no matter how prevalent the image of his naked body was in your mind, even if you did stumble over your words as you flipped through the pages, “Those mags, uh, the ammo for the M16 that is, we ordered those last Tues-Wednesday , so they’ll be in by the end of this week.”

You couldn’t see his expression under his mask, but you could have sworn that it tugged in a way that suggested he was smirking underneath the black fabric, a touch of smugness in his eyes. Was he flirting with you? There was no possible way for you to find out in the middle of a full room, so you decided to put that tantalising idea to the side, wrapping up the last few items on your list and then glancing around the room, “If there’s anything else, please send me an itemised list by the end of the day.”

With that, the meeting was over, every soldier packing up their files, undoubtedly each one as bored as you, and you had little desire to spend any more time with them, especially with the suspiciously intense look Ghost was giving you, so you gave your farewells and left the room as quickly as you could, doing your best to rid your mind of the confusing thoughts whirling around in your mind. Ghost, the supposed ‘psycho’ killer, was flirting with you. Or perhaps threatening you. You weren’t entirely sure which. And yet, you had a strange desire to find out, that small part of you that longed to step into dangerous territory. But how could you? That meeting had been the only time you’d ever interacted with the man; other than your brief encounter in the shower, it didn’t seem like there would ever be another opportunity to be alone with him.

Unless.

Regardless of how outraged he’d been previously, he’d seemed entirely intrigued by you in the meeting, almost amused. You’d seen the direction he was headed; if your mind wasn’t already overtaken with delusional optimism, you could have sworn that he was striding in the direction of the old shower block with what seemed like great determination.

This was one of those deciding moments, a fork in the path where you got to choose what the outcome would be: adherence to your usual routine or something far more thrilling. You could almost feel the clock ticking in your head, your time running short, and for once, you decided to be brave and at least a little bit stupid, heading to your barracks to pick up your things before heading out toward the shower block, adrenaline pounding in your veins as you made your way through the small woods to the brick building.

Even from the outside, you could hear the shuddering of the pipes as they desperately pumped water, your heart beginning to pick up the pace as you pushed open the heavy wooden door, closing it softly behind you, now able to hear the pattering of water on the tile floor and see the black clothing draped over the bench that ran the length of the wall. You walked down the centre of the block, approaching the last stall on the end, and yet, you couldn’t take that final step. Everything below the waist was screaming at you to leap into the shower with the man, yet your brain conjured images of the humiliating HR meeting you’d be in if you had, in fact, entirely misinterpreted what were admittedly very subtle hints. You didn’t dare push over that line with a man so far above you in rank, but you weren’t prepared to entirely give up, so you merely slunk into the stall next to his, stripping off your uniform and hanging it on the backside of the door, pulling it to and surrendering yourself to an unsatisfying shower.

The shower head shuddered as you twisted the knob for water, a few spats of water dripping out, yet nothing more. There was a good reason you stuck to that end stall; almost every other shower there had been neglected to the point of failure. You took this as a sign to give up, turning around to get your things, only to find Ghost standing in the now open doorway.

There was nothing but a towel lazily wrapped around his hips to cover him up, his blond hair already soaked, water leaving little trails down his body, pulling your eyes down. You quickly snapped your attention back to his face, your hands already going to cover your chest and between your legs instinctually. Ghost’s eyes lingered on your body before finally flicking to the broken shower head, then back to your face. You could see that intrigued twinkle in his eyes as he gave you a slightly smug smirk, gesturing toward the other shower stall with his head, “Mine works. We should share.”

You almost couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. The exact situation had been playing out in your mind ever since you’d seen him naked, yet never once had you made the connection between your shower Adonis and Lieutenant Ghost. The two couldn’t be reconciled in your head, but you quickly decided that this was a problem to be solved later, if at all. You turned your non-functioning shower off, though slightly reluctant to use the hand covering your chest to do so, and then walked out of the stall, ducking under Ghost’s arm holding the door open for you, and rounding the corner into the warm stream of the only functional shower, allowing the water to wash away all the important questions that should have been asked, only focusing on the present moment.

Though you’d chosen to face away from him, you could still hear the noise of his towel hitting the wall as he tossed it aside, your entire body tensing up as you felt his presence behind you, the nerves nipping at the back of your mind. You didn’t dare turn to look at him, trying to find something else to focus on to quiet your frenzied brain, your eyes flicking to the one bottle of his on the floor in the shower, trying to figure out what scent ‘original’ was supposed to be, and whether one liquid really could be shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Your thoughts on his toiletries were brought to an instant halt at the first touch of his hand on your hip, a questioning touch as though he was gauging your interest before moving any further. He might have been feared special forces, yet here, you retained a level of control, of security. You relaxed into his touch, leaning back until you bumped up against his chest, and his arm snaked around your stomach, wrapping tightly around your waist as he stepped forward into the stream from the shower, his head dipping down to rest in the crook of your neck. You could feel his other hand trail a path up your thigh before it, too, wrapped around you, pulling you snug against him in a tight embrace, like a man starved for any sort of touch.

For a moment, the two of you remained in that simple intimacy, your arms resting on top of his, enjoying the sheer pleasure of his embrace. Your hands were the first to move, your fingertips gently trailing over the muscles in his forearms, admiring the strength in them, unable to hold back a smile as you saw the not-so-subtle way he flexed them for you. His hand moved then, and you followed them with your own, one trailing down over your hipbone to the top of your thigh, gently stroking the skin there, the other one shifting up until it was just underneath your breast, pausing right before he touched anywhere interesting.

Clearly, he wasn’t about to touch anywhere without your explicit permission, and you decided to test him, pulling his left hand up until it was settled over your breast. His fingers paused, and you felt the tenseness in his arms, yet after a beat, he stretched out his fingers, tracing a little pattern over the swell of your breast, circling your nipple before his hand covered your boob entirely, gently squeezing it in his hand. You could feel his breathing growing heavier, every exhale blowing air over the skin of your neck, but you had no intention of stopping, relaxing into his touch, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, your eyes closed. The hand on your thigh had grown tight, fingers digging into your flesh, and you began to move his hand further in to where you could feel a growing need for his touch.

The further you moved his hand, the tighter his grip on your chest got, pulling you closer against him until you could finally feel his hardness pressed against the small of your back. His clear excitement emboldened you further, and you pushed his hand firmly between your legs, letting his fingers slightly part your labia to rest on your clit. That action earned you a low growl from him, and he buried his face into your shoulder as he pushed his fingers further down, touching the slick wetness beginning to leak out of your needy pussy. The second he felt your wetness, he drew his fingers back from you, digging them into your hip and pulling you firmly against him, rubbing the bridge of his nose against your neck as though he was trying to ground himself in the moment.

You had no problem allowing him to take his time, focusing on the simple pleasure of the warm water on your skin and the heat emanating from his chest to your back. His hand moved back to your pussy, more determined than before, as he slid his fingers down your slit, gently probing your slick hole with his fingers. As he slowly slid one in, he let out a strangled groan, shifting his face so he could bite down on the flesh of your neck, his other hand massaging your breast as his finger began to easily slip inside you. He stretched his thumb up to rest on your clit as he gently began to pump his finger in and out of you, rubbing in little circles, and you couldn’t help but let out a little moan.

The slightest of noises from you seemed to spur him on, and he pushed another finger inside you, beginning to kiss and suck at your neck as he did so, your body easily accepting his two fingers, and so he followed it with a third, his dick twitching with excitement against your back as all three of his fingers sank inside you without resistance.

Whatever good sense you had left was beginning to dissipate in the haze of your lust, and you reached your hand behind you to wrap around his cock, slowly beginning to stroke him as he gently fucked you with his fingers. He rewarded you with a soft groan in your ear, and so you quickened your pace, beginning to pump his dick in earnest, wanting him to receive the same pleasure as you. Your body was eagerly opening up around him, and the last bit of your intelligence vanished as your desperation for him overpowered you, and you begged for stupidity in two words.

“Fuck me.”

There was no hesitance in Ghost’s touch now as he pulled his fingers out of you, turning you to face him and then bending down to grab your thighs and lift you up, pinning you to the cool, damp wall of the shower stall. You could see the lust in his eyes as he shifted to hold you with only one hand, the other quickly moving to his dick, positioning it at your slick entrance and then slowly beginning to lower you down onto him. There was no comparison to the pleasure you felt, not only from feeling him slide into you, but to watch his face as he did so, his open lips, the desperate look in his eyes, his gaze entirely focused on you as though you were Aphrodite herself. You sunk your teeth into your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud as you felt him stretch out your insides, yet you let your hands dig into his shoulders, your nails raking his skin as you felt every inch of him.

When you finally sunk down to the base of his cock, he leant forwards to rest his head on the wall beside you, clearly struggling to contain his composure, his hand digging into the flesh of your thigh, the other splayed out on the cool tile wall. He took a second to breathe before he began to slowly thrust up into you, his hand shifting from your thigh to your hip to pin you in place. Even in your wetness, you could feel how big he was, filling you up so perfectly, and you arched your back against him, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you. His eyes were on you now, and he moved his hands from the wall to your lips, tugging your bottom lip out from between your teeth and issuing you a singular command, his gaze intense.

“I want to hear you.”

Even in your pleasure, you couldn’t stop yourself from obeying a command from your superior officer, and you let out the moans you’d been holding back, tightening your legs around his waist to pull him into you as much as possible, your fingers raking against his back as he fucked you, his hips beginning to move more forcefully against you. His fingers now moved to your hair, brushing the errant strands out of your face and then shifting down to cup your cheek, lifting your face, his voice soft, “Look at me.”

There was no mistaking the utter lust in his gaze when you looked up at him, yet you could also see quite a great deal of tenderness, of genuine care, which only served to heighten your pleasure, your hands moving from his shoulders to the back of his neck as you clung to him, desperately grinding your hips against him. He picked up his pace further yet still restrained himself from fully slamming into you, his grip like a vice on your thigh. His voice grew hoarser as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, clearly strained, “Touch yourself.”

In another situation, you might have felt insecure, yet you were entirely awash in lustful pleasure, and so you obeyed, reaching down with one hand to begin rubbing circles around your increasingly sensitive clit, feeling that same build of pleasure in your core as Ghost fucked you faster still, his expression growing more desperate by the second. He leant forward to whisper his final command against your lips.

“Come for me.”

Your body seemed honour-bound to obey him as your pussy clenched around his dick, your pleasure building until it finally crescendoed, with Ghost’s lips crashing onto yours as you finished, his hips moving frantically as he desperately fucked you, his thrusts stuttering as he finally shot his load deep inside you, his body crushing yours into the wall in a tight embrace. Your kisses became softer as the both of you came down from your frenzied high, his grip on your body loosening slightly, your death grip around his neck becoming less deadly.

With a satisfied groan, Ghost let himself sink to the floor, pulling you down along with him into his lap, letting his dick remain inside you as you settled more comfortably on top of him, resting against his chest as he lazily wrapped his arms around your lower back, cradling you against him. After such bodily heat, the comparatively cool water of the shower felt heavenly on your skin, washing away your intermingled sweat.

You probably could have slept there, with Ghost still buried inside you, yet he was not so spellbound. With a gentle movement, he pulled his softening length out of you, reaching over to grab the bottle of soapy liquid he’d left on the floor. Then, he repositioned you so you were now sitting in between his legs, his thick thighs boxing you in as he opened the bottle behind you. You weren’t entirely sure what he was doing, nor did you care, still awash in a pleasant afterglow. The touch of his fingers gently massaging the liquid into your hair was a heavenly surprise, and you practically melted into his hands, a human-sized pile of putty perfectly manipulated by him. He ran his fingers through the length of your hair, thoroughly soaping up every strand before he let the cool water wash away the suds.

Then, he got to work on your body. Never had you been so grateful for three-in-one soap as it meant you didn’t have to miss a second of his warm chest against your back as he began to soap up your body, his fingers incredibly gentle against your skin, paying attention to every single part of you, and then letting you lean back against his chest as the water washed everything away, his arms coming to rest around your waist. Every single care of yours seemed to follow the soap down the train as you relaxed into him, enjoying the way he rested his chin on your head as you closed your eyes, finally entirely at ease.

#jack writes #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #cod fic #cod ghost #ghost smut #cod smut #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley fic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x female reader

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nothing0fnothing · 8 months

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hey I have some lived experience personal care advice I had to learn the hard way in my adulthood after growing up with abusive neglectful narcissistic parents. Maybe it will help someone else.

The most important room in your house to be clean is your kitchen. If you only have a few spoons and a whole house of mess, spend them on getting your kitchen clean, hygienic and tidy enough to be usable.

spending money on things that last longer or work better isn't a waste of money. You don't have to use the cheapest of everything because spending is bad work out what YOU think is worth splurging on.

Always buy the best shoes you can afford. Taking care of your feet is so important for your health. If you're afab the same goes for underwear, buying one pack of good quality, good fitting cotton breathable underwear will save you so much money on feminine care supplies if you get what I'm saying.

Get your feet measured in a shoe store. Especially if you're over 25 your feet will have grown since you were 18. I spent years thinking my body was wrong because my feet ALWAYS hurt. My girlfriend suggested we measure them and I realised I was in shoes two sizes too small. For years!! I didn't even know shoes were supposed to have space in them.

a cheap bottle of washing up liquid (dish soap) costs like £1 and can be used on basically every surface. Clean your counters, toilet, sinks, bathtub or shower, oven and hob with a scrub daddy and some cheap washing up liquid. It doesn't react with other chemicals and it cleans deeply and easily. I even use it on the inside of the shower glass where it collects that crusty water residue.

When bathing with an unscented bar soap everywhere first. Then wash a second time with your scented soap. The scented liquid soap isn't designed to clean you it's designed to make you smell beautiful.

Don't use scented soaps on your kitty. Don't use femfresh or other feminine washes on your kitty. Don't use feminine wipes on your kitty. You use your unscented bar soap you use on the rest of your bodh on your kitty once a day. That's all it needs.

You don't need sewing skills to mend things. A £5 sewing kit you keep somewhere in your house and maybe a 2 minute YouTube tutorial is all you need to fix holes in your clothes and make them last longer.

Cereal for breakfast is quick and convenient but aim to eat protein for your first meal. Things like eggs, meat, a protein shake, Greek yogurt. You'll feel fuller for longer and your body will appreciate it.

most things don't need to be ironed. For the things that need creases out a steamer is better for the fibres and easier to use. Simply hang up the item and hold the steamer against the creases.

#cptsd recovery #abuse recovery #trauma recovery #recovery #ptsd recovery #mental wellbeing #mental wellness #dysfunctional household #self care tips #self compassion #self healing #personal growth #self acceptance #mental health #emotional health #therapy

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mayakern · 3 months

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hi! I remember you had a petticoat care guide at some point but I can't find it. can you point me to where I can look at the care instructions now that the petticoat preorders are being shipped out? thank you!

yes! i'll go ahead and put the care & storage information below:

--CARE-- Petticoats should be washed as infrequently as possible--one to two times a year at most. The best way to clean your petticoat is to steam it, which can also reinvigorate your petticoat's volume if it has been flattened. Otherwise, it is recommended to either dry clean or hand wash and line dry in the shade. Machine wash at your own risk. For best results with a machine, wash on a gentle cycle with cold water using a small amount of gentle detergent. Hang in shade to dry. Do not bleach. Do not tumble dry. Iron inside out on low heat. --STORAGE-- When possible, petticoats should be turned inside out and hung on a skirt hanger. For more compact storage, you can roll your petticoat by folding it at the waistband and then rolling it starting at the bottom hem and ending at the waistband, before placing it in a garment bag. If your petticoat has been flattened from storage, you can reinvigorate the volume with a steamer or by hanging it in your bathroom and taking a steamy shower.

here are some helpful links as well:

#ask #store #petticoat #care guides #carsyn social link rank up

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months

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hi! idk really know if you’re taking requests. i hope you are hehe.

i’ve been sick with a stomach flu the past few days and it got me thinking if you could do a svechy blurb of how he’d be if reader were sick (no necessarily stomach flu 🫠).

thanks! and i love your fics xx

oh no!! the stomach flu is the literal worst - i hope you’re staying hydrated and feeling better ☺️ i’m always taking requests, even if it takes me forever to get to them lol. i’ve got a few thoughts on andrei with a sick reader and the last fic i posted is a little more on that topic too! but let’s get into some headcanons

definitely realizes when you’re getting sick because you’re quieter or cranky and aren’t acting like yourself

pretty bossy when you insist that you’re fine and you don’t need to sleep - he usually just frogmarches you up to the bedroom and tucks you in

brings gatorade and toast and yogurt and whatever snacks you feel like eating

once tried to make chicken soup, but set off the smoke alarm so now he just orders it in when you’re sick

does the pharmacy run and buys tissues and nyquil and cough drops, even picks up vicks vaporub and those little shower steamer tablets so you can unclog your sinuses with a nice hot scented shower

also runs you really bubbly baths for you to soak and nap in

surprises you with a new book or magazine when he comes back from the pharmacy so you’ll have something to keep you entertained

will cuddle with you if you need him to and you only insist on it if you’re feeling better because you don’t want to get him sick

but also he runs hot so it’s nice to curl up against him when you’re feeling cold and yucky

andrei definitely holds your hair back when you’re vomiting, rubs circles on your back and tries to be as soothing as possible even though he’s trying not to vomit himself (def could see him being a sympathetic puker or just getting triggered by the vomiting noises)

he lets you pick the tv show even if it means cheesy romcoms or garbage reality tv

if he’s away or has to leave when you’re not feeling well, he’ll text and call when he gets a chance so he can see how you’re feeling

if you fall asleep on the couch, he’ll cover you with a blanket instead of trying to move you

definitely has called his mom for her random cold remedies to try out on you - some of them work, some of them make you feel worse but you’ll never tell elena that

tries to pump you full of pressed juices and wellness shots even though you think they’re disgusting and just want some jello

lets you steal as many hoodies and sweats as you want from his closet so you’re comfortable

once when you had laryngitis, he jokingly brought you a little bell to use to call for him and then promptly hid the bell when you abused the power

mostly just tries to help you feel better as best as he can, even if that means just stroking your hair while you try to sleep

#asked and answered #anon #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov headcanon

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notalwayscommonsense · 2 years

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Making Showering Easier w/ Executive Dysfunction

On this account we cover how to do things that are "common sense" or generally untaught for the people who dont know. Shame-free. Today, we'll be covering tips to help shower when you struggle with executive dysfunction, a depressive episode or something similar. Executive dysfunction can cause tasks that seem easy and simple for most look insurmountable to people who suffer with it. Sadly, there's no quick fix, but below will be tips on making bathing easier.

Tip 1: Taking away the pressure - A big reason bathing can feel like such a daunting task is because you're looking at the big picture. A list of things you need or feel like you have to do; washing your body, your hair, shaving, going about your regular routine. Simply put, simplify your shower. Gauge what you can manage and cut out the rest. If you can only wash your hair or only wash your body its far better than nothing at all. If you cant do either, just letting the water run over you is enough.

There isnt any hard and fast rules you must follow while showering. You dont have the energy to stand? Then sit. You can invest in a shower stool or just sit right on the floor. "I cant shower, its 3am!" Says who? When motivation strikes, its best to ride that wave no matter what time of day it is. Is the process of getting ready after you shower the daunting part? Pick out comfortable clothes, air dry your hair or even plan to reward yourself afterwards with something you've been wanting to do. Thinking of being able to curl up on the couch comfortable, clean and cozy may strike some motivation.

Tip 2: Make it fun - This tip definitely isnt for everyone, but it may be helpful for some. Try to indulge in some things to make your showers more fun and increase the motivation to do it. Some quick, free things you can do are playing music or even setting your phone or tablet a safe distance away to have your favorite show or movie on in the background. You can even bring a refreshing drink or snack (fruit will never get soggy and you dont need to worry about getting sticky from popsicles!). If you're open to spending some money, there's countless other ways you could increase the motivation to shower. Fancy soaps, body scrubs, fluffy new loofahs, bath bombs or shower steamers can all leave you feeling eager to try them out. Check out the kids section, seriously. Bath tints, bathtub crayons, markers and paint can all be fun for people with a creative side. Tip 3: Dont - If none of these options sound appealing to you, then simply dont shower. There are other ways to freshen up without having to go through all the motions. Using dry shampoo can leave your hair unwashed for longer. Dampen a wash cloth with warm water and wipe down your armpits. Keeping a pack of baby wipes by your bed can help when you feel a spark of motivation. Below will be linked a few more resources and products that could help when you're having trouble. Remember, no matter how hard it may feel right now, things will get easier. Products: Bathtub Markers & Crayons Affordable Shower Speaker B&BW Bath & Shower Products 15 Pack of Shower Steamers Resources: 15 Hygiene Hacks SAMHSA’s National Helpline

#positivity #affirmation #self worth #reminders #self help #gentle reminder #actually autistic #actually neurodivergent #actually adhd #executive dysfunction #mental health #tutorial #adhd #recovery #healing #encouragement #self compassion

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toournextadventure · 26 days

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movie night hcs next please ( nsfw or sfw whatever your genius brain offers if you want )

Absolutely I can! These are headcanons after the events of "hate crime" just so y'all can get the vibe of where they are in their relationship

(Minors stay BACK 🤺)

The gf mask stays ON during sex 🤨

Okay not all the time, but for real, sometimes it's just the perfect time to get a little freaky. Like after a murder :)

You and Tara both need therapy. You need therapy hard. Like, bare minimum 25yrs of therapy. But since only nerds go to therapy (your words), freaky post-murder sex is gonna have to do

Tara 👏 is 👏 a 👏 mean 👏 power 👏 bottom 👏

But if you wine and dine her properly first (not fancy, she likes the casual dates), she's a lot softer. So soft you could almost consider it lovemaking. Until she realizes she's being soft, then it's back to her being mean (endearing)

The two of you are complete opposites when it comes to a good lay. You're cracking jokes, trying to make her laugh or smile, anything to break that outward demeanor of hers and give her the space to lower her walls for even just a few minutes

On the other hand, Tara is all serious. She had absolutely 0 control over the attacks, and this is one of the few times that she can be in full control of every aspect. She can create a genuine safe space

The only exception to her total control is if you're post-murder and just happen to start flirting. And getting handsy. And whispering things that you very much shouldn't be whispering when you're both covered in blood

Aftercare is a MUST

You've got snacks, drinks, treats, movies, the whole shebang. There might not be an immediate bath or shower, but that always happens eventually, complete with bath salts, a candle, and maybe a shower steamer if you're in a bit of a rush

Walks through the city are also part of aftercare. It's always nice to get some fresh air, see the sunset, listen to the birds in the park. It helps to bring you both down from the high that always follows

(Sometimes you both go on a walk after a murder too. You know, to ease the adrenaline)

If you're lucky. If you're really lucky and catch Tara on a good day, and all the planets are aligned and Mercury is in microwave and you witnessed the second coming of christ, you can have a genuine soft night with her. As a treat

Gentle touches, slow kisses, no rush at all. You can kiss every freckle and scar and kiss love into her skin everywhere you go. It's not as intense as usual, and not near as dirty, but it's one of the best nights of the month

Just make sure you properly enjoy it, because she's gonna be back to being mean the next morning. But it's her most endearing quality :)

#tara answers #tara carpenter x reader #adults ONLY 🤨

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beanghostprincess · 6 months

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(Trans women usopp has stolen my heart I think just love women in general ) Usopp Robin and Nami have a nice self care day with just the girls. (Chopper is invited too, they can't say no to him.) They stay in the shower room, they fill the bath and run the showers on hot. They play relaxing music, Nami bought lavender shower steamers, Robin lit candles. Usopp gets sanji to make hors d'oeuvres and fancy drinks he leaves them at the bathroom door. No peeking!

Chopper brought a video transponder snail to watch a movie. Usopp does their hair she's been practicing her braiding. She gave Robin a nice Dutch braid and Nami a mermaid tail. She also curled copper's little tuff of fur on his head, in return robin has been researching how to do textured hair and gave her a French braid and afro puff combo.

While they were relaxing and talking Luffy showed up asking what they were doing? Nami scolds him for coming in knowing that they're all naked and asks why is he even here? and close the door he knows how fast Brooke and Sanji are.

Luffy explained he only came into the bathroom because he needed to poop (no manners whatsoever) and Zoro was using the other bathroom to meditate. Robin and Usopp are not really affected by his antics and just enjoy Nami yelling at him. Luffy being unfazed by her tongue lashing casually sits down and eats the treats Sanji made for them. He doesn't get why it's such a big deal. Like you're just naked, plus chopper is here and he's not a girl and he's seen usopp naked before (granted this was pre-transition but I guess his point still stands)

Robin invites him to join them but lock the door. You may be the exception but the others are not. Despite Nami's protests Luffy has already stripped and jumped in slashing every one ( imagine getting so far in his journey to become the king of the pirates only to die in bathwater). She sighed in defeat and just accepted that he's here, could be worse.

They continue what they were talking about. Nami is learning how to make hail and she made a tornado by accident of course and she's still trying to recreate it.

Usopp learned how to crossbreed one of her poison pop seeds and her thorny pop seats and made a new weapon. She's also trying to make a pleasant smelling corpse plant. She tried roses, lavender and even sage. But nothing works. Nami suggests that maybe she should use tangerines to cross breed.

Robin has been researching about a vase she found, made of wood and clay. Apparently it's from an island that is isolated from the rest of the world. Everything is handmade or out of scratch, their recipes, their clothing even their soaps. All of their food is homegrown and their meat is known as the best meat in the world.

Luffy didn't need any more convincing he got out and commanded Franky to change course to go to find this island. (Sanji and Brooke tackled Luffy demanding every juicy detail of what he saw in there.) Of course everyone had to get out and get to their stations ruining their whole little spa day. Nami was specifically pissed because she's the navigator.

I love women too <- A lesbian.

This is such a cute and adorable idea!!! I love them!!! I've always thought Nami and Robin let Usopp join their girl nights even before coming out bc they've always felt safe around her, and when she came out it wasn't really a surprise to them tbh. Their spa day looks so cozy and relaxing (until they interrupt them)!! It sounds great. They'd do this 100%. And Luffy would stay bc Luffy is Luffy and the concept of intimacy for him isn't really a thing. Plus bold of you to assume he's a man. Non-binary king, that's what he is. Also Chopper staying with them also makes sense and it's extremely cute!!! Sanji is literally dying to go in there lmfao-- Not to make this about Sanuso but I think he waits by the bathroom door like a wet dog to see his girlfriend again. He misses her! Clingy golden retriever.

#their girl time together is literally the best place for gossiping too #one piece #usopp #nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper #monkey d. luffy #transfem usopp #sanuso

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mrwooglewogle · 6 months

Text

Nancy Drew themed Christmas haul!

I think I got some really cool stuff from my family and they really do know me so well.

My future mother-in-law got me this Nancy Drew book. I don’t usually read the books but I will make an exception for this because I can see that Nancy is in a fist fight with some guy with a ski mask in the background.

Thank you Mom and Dad. I’m slowly growing my collection of physical Discs so I can get an impressive collection for you guys (I was hoping for STFD but I understand that can be hard to find).

Also Mom and Dad. I’ve never played the Wii port but It’s a great excuse to have my bf play ICE. The manual on the inside is so cute with the character profiles.

Bonus: The Nancy Drew Stuff I got for my Sisters.

My older sister got some stationary from @defectivenancydrew on Etsy. She loved it so much and I also got her a stationary set with feathered quills, and a wax stamp seal and spoon so she can write her own “Dear Ned…”

My little sister loves DDI and iced coffee. Found this on Etsy as well. I got her some coffee themed shower steamers because they reminded me of The Hot Kettle Cafe.

#her interactive #nancy drew #nancy drew games #clew crew #clue crew #nancy drew pc games #message in a haunted mansion #white wolf of icicle creek #danger on deception island #christmas #merry christmas

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moral-terpitude · 1 year

Text

Misadventures - Part 9

you say you want to chase the moon like fire well • together we can fake our own deaths here • just wanna be alone and watch as you all just disappear

A/N: I’m screaming. I’m sure y’all are screaming (maybe not as much as me cause I’ve had some of this wrote since I’ve wrote the beginning). It’s gotten so much longer than I thought it would be, and this isn’t even all the drama yet to come! Never thought the “second half” would be longer than the first.

Word Count: 9,910 (I almost crammed in 90 more words for 10k but I couldn’t fit anything else in here.)

Warnings: smut (unprotected sex, fingering, blowjobs), gratuitous use of the fuck word, bullying (her sisters are kind of bullies to Quinn I guess) over appearance/ food choices, um churches/organized religion but nothing from the Bible, adultery.

Summary: Quinn doesn’t have much in her life that can go smoothly without awkward hiccups, and sex is no exception.

[Masterlist][Series Masterlist]

“I’ll warn you,” Quinn said, coming out of the bathroom wrapped in two towels, droplets of water from the shower still dressing her shoulders as she dug through her bag, “I don’t dance.”

Tommy was untangling the cord to the steamer she had asked him to go get from the front desk of the hotel, “Well, maybe you’ve just never had a good dancing partner, eh?”

She tossed shoes on the bed, digging through the bag rather viciously without a response. She had only been informed that morning there was a block of rooms at the hotel for them to stay at to make everything easier with the ceremony being downtown and the reception being in one of the downstairs ballrooms.

“Suit from the cleaner?” She questioned, rather annoyed at his insistence on watching her struggle locating things in her bag, when she was sure there was something else he could be doing.

Which, was just her own anxieties about the way the night could go on seeping through, and she knew it, but unfortunately, Tommy had turned for the door before she got a chance to fully apologize.

He was able to hear the resounding “Fuck,” as the door clicked closed and something being thrown before he was out of earshot of the door.

He tried to remember as he got on the elevator if she had even eaten, or had more than one caffeinated drink, yet that day, two stipulations in his short time of knowing Quinn that he found were very critical to keeping her out of a mood.

The coffee moreso than the food, from what he had gathered.

The cleaner was two blocks away, which made him forgo taking the rental from the parking garage and watching the small sights of the city unfold as best as he could.

Tommy had fully intended on giving her hell for obscuring the fact it was a church wedding until this morning, but she didn’t seem to enthused about the fact either.

Coupled with her current mood, he figured the safest bet was to let it go.

He thumbed through the bills before tucking his wallet back in the back pocket of his jeans. He had declined, despite her insistence at paying for the suit to be laundered.

The bell above the door chimed as Tommy pushed his way into the coffee shop from their first day there. It was fairly empty, and he surveyed the board, trying to remember what it exactly was Quinn had ordered for a latte before they left.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Just trying to decide.”

The girl eyed him with some speculation before speaking, taking in the dry cleaning bag slung over his shoulder, “Not trying to be a creep, but, you were here with the purple haired lady the other day, right?”

Tommy raised an eye brow before giving a reluctant nod.

“She got a Chai Latte with two shots of espresso and almond milk, if that helps you with your decision any.”

He smiled, a chuckle escaping, as he nodded, “One of those, then.”

There was silence, the espresso machine whirring to life as she sat the milk to steam, reaching for the black paper cup, “What’s the occasion?”

“Wedding.”

“Oh!” She lidded the cup and handed Tommy back the change, “Congratulations!”

He paused, quick enough that she probably didn’t notice, before he decided the girl was none the wiser and didn’t need the correction he had thought of giving, and instead nodded, “Thank you.”

Three quick knocks on the door pulled Quinn out of her focus of trying to trade the Opalite stones in her lobes for the gold hollow teardrops that had survived rattling around in her makeup bag.

“Just a sec!”

She had managed to get her hair dried and slipped into her dress, unable to tie the back, in the midst of Tommy being gone.

Despite her best recollection and dumping out her entire bag on the bed after a frustrating amount of digging, she had discovered that despite what she thought, she definitely hadn’t packed the vibrator like she thought she had.

The only moment I’ve had alone fucking wasted.

She opened the door, trying her best to keep the fresh coat of lacquer on her toes from smudging against the carpet, dress held up in her hands as she walked.

Quinn opened the door a crack and check to make sure it was Tommy, who waited patiently with the dry cleaning bag slung awkwardly over his shoulder in an effort to not crease anytbing, before opening it all the way to retreat to her spot in front of the mirror on the dresser, the entire contents of her makeup bag pulled out on top of it.

The dress fit her perfectly, grey matte fabric with a cutout that exposed all of her back, the scrawling pattern in her skin fully on display. The sleeves were short and loose, enough of a v-neck in the front that Tommy could see the shimmer of the jewel embedded in her chest in her reflection of the mirror, but not enough to be vulgar.

“I took a detour.” He spoke, finally hanging the suit on the back of the door, before setting the black cup next to the various cosmetic accoutrements that he had no clue about.

He watched her expression soften in the mirror, setting down the mascara to look at the familiar cup, before breaking out into a smile.

“Thank you,” her voice held a tinge of pensiveness as she took a sip, setting it back down, before she continued with her routine.

“How long have we got?”

“About an hour, but it takes about 10 minutes to walk to the church and I don’t want to be late.”

He nodded, doubling back to the door to retrieve the outfit, before heading for the bathroom.

“Do you—“

“No, I’m good.” She cut him off, her mouth making a tiny o as she continued with the mascara.

“Okay.” He didn’t make an effort to move, and Quinn could feel him as he stared at her.

She paused, eyes flicking to meet his as she halted her movement.

“What, do you want some?” She held the makeup wand out, flailing it around.

“No.” His brow furrowed, “Just—fuck it. Nevermind. I’m getting in the shower.”

She let out a breath as the water started.

“Do you usually only take a seven minute shower or did I make you feel rushed?” Quinn asked, toeing into the low heels.

She had smoothed her hair into a slightly messy chignon at the back of her head, and it took Tommy a moment to realize the only time he usually saw her without her glasses was when she slept.

“No, that’s normal.” He quipped.

He was mostly ready. Shirt mostly tucked into his pants. Zipper done but not buttoned. Shirt buttoned but tie loose around his neck. Vest on and not buttoned at all.

Quinn thought pouring into the dress was bad, but she had only ever seen him ready, and didn’t realize how much work a suit truly was.

“Do you ever let yourself ever enjoy the little things?” She prodded as she crossed the room, holding her hand out for the cuff link he was having a brief struggle with.

“I enjoy things. I’ve barely set an alarm all week.”

He let her fasten the other gold cufflink with less resistance than the first.

“Sleeping in with no alarm set and sleeping until just before the latest possible alarm you can tolerate are totally different.”

He adjusted the sleeves, white beneath the grey vest, not the same shade to match her dress exactly but dark enough to compliment it.

“Turn around,” he suggested, moving her so her back was to him, the seam of her dress sitting slightly off center, “it’s crooked. To the right a hair will fix it.”

“Oh.” she pinched the fabric at her waist,

giving it a shift, and watched him watch her in the mirror as he tied the plum and black tie, some scrawling pattern her eyes couldn’t quite focus on in the reflection, “You know I was only giving you shit when I said if you got a purple tie to match my hair would work.”

He finished buttoning, zipping and clasping things in the appropriate order before speaking, “Hold still, you’re still untied.”

She had almost forgot about the dangling strings by that point. Out of habit, she looked down, trying to keep her hair out of the way.

One of the strings had bunched itself up inside the dress. Tommy moved the fabric gently, not sure if it had any stretch to it or not, fingers gently skimming her skin to retrieve the thin band before tying it in a bow with its partner just above her shoulders.

Quinn tried to ignore the shiver that the action gave her, gentle and tender enough that she would probably spend more time thinking about it than she should.

“Okay, if we don’t go now, we’ll be late.” She said, “I’m not taking a bag, can you put my phone in your pocket?”

Tommy nodded, putting the key card in with it.

The walk was quick and the humidity from the last few days had finally subsided, but some of the heat still remained.

“Hi, Andrew.” Quinn gave her cousin a quick hug, before he walked the both of them to the front pew, to the furthest right side.

She watched him walk away, before he doubled back, bending down to whisper in Quinn’s ear.

“Emily asked please, please, no…” he huffed, “don’t make me say it, Quinn.”

She chortled, trying to cover the snort as she nodded, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

“No fucking in the church,” she whispered, shaking her head and keeping her voice to a whisper so her great aunt, sitting directly behind her, didn’t hear anything.

The wood bench had been uncomfortable from the moment they sat down. Quinn fidgeted to try and get comfortable, but the jiggle of her leg halted when Tommy gave her knee a gentle squeeze.

“Shaking the whole pew, love. If you keep it up it’ll fall apart.” He leaned over, whispering the words in her ear as voices chattered around them.

“Sorry.” She whispered, finding herself tucked against him a bit more than she expected to be as Andrew brought more of their family members to sit.

Quinn hadn’t taken note of the ring on his hand until she covered it with her own, metal clinking from the rings she wore. She stalled for a moment before she realized it was on his pinky. His hand was warm through the fabric of her dress.

Fuck, his hands, the things I would let—

The processional music started, pulling her back to reality as she noted David was already standing and waiting with the officiant.

Out of the four bridesmaids that stood up with Emily, three of them were her sisters. Rebecca was her Maitron of Honor. Not completely surprising.

Anna and Liam were adorable, dressed in their little outfits as they paved the way for her sister to enter.

They all stood as the music changed. Her dad looked like he might have been a little teary eyed as he and Emily finally reached the end of the aisle, the veil resting gently on her shoulders as he gave her a firm hug.

Quinn tried to suppress the stupid grin that threatened to break through when she noticed Tommy had snuck his arm across the back of the pew as they sat.

Which she was thankful for since someone had cranked the air conditioning that morning, which left Quinn reveling in the heat she could feel coming off of him as they listened to the officiant begin the ceremony.

And it was anything but short. Somewhere in the midst of it she realized she was tuning it out. Quinn could feel her eyes glazing over as the officiant found another piece of the Bible to cram in to the ceremony.

“You never mentioned your family going to church.” Tommy took the moment of them lighting candles to lean over and whisper the words.

“‘Cause I never went with them to church.”

As she answered the comment, her eyes roamed the stained glass windows that towered over them, and Quinn realized whatever cologne he had on was fucking intoxicating. Some kind of ambery vanilla musk that she would be lying if she said wasn’t doing anything for her.

Quinn, you are in a church! Get your shit together.

It didn’t take much longer for them to say their “I do’s” and kiss. A sweet moment that, with their personalities, was exactly what Quinn would expect. A calm, gentle, peck and nothing worthy of the wolf-whistle that she heard come from the other side of the church.

She sighed in relief when they were able to stand once again.

At least being in the front means we get to leave first.

She shifted awkwardly, hoping no one noticed as she tried to unstick her thighs from each other.

Her sister hugged everyone as they departed the pew, the whole dismissal thing feeling awfully juvenile.

Quinn realized all the awkwardness as it was her turn. Out of the corner of her eye she saw David shake Tommy’s hand.

“Congratulations,” she gave her sister a tight squeeze and a few pats on the back, a moment that should have been warm and photo worthy.

“You never can tone it down, can you, Quinn.” Emily whispered the words in Quinn’s ear before letting her go, a smile on her face as if she had said a sweet thank you instead.

Quinn returned the smile, regardless, turning to walk away before anyone saw tears pricking at the corner of her eyes, and harassed her for making it all about her when it wasn’t.

The breeze outside was unexpected but calming. Quinn paused outside the church, smoothing her dress as Tommy caught up with her.

“The reception doesn’t start until five. What time is it?”

Tommy pulled his phone from the breast pocket of the jacket, “Three forty five.”

“Hmm,” she walked slowly, exaggerating putting one foot in front of the other before continuing, “there is a place that has…probably the best cheesecake I’ve ever had, and last time I was home I didn’t get any. We could walk there and back to kill some time.”

“Quinn, we live in New York, you’re telling me—“

“Yes. That there is better cheesecake than New York cheesecake found in New York. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

She smiled, pausing under a tree by a parking garage.

“What are you doing?” She questioned, as Tommy dug back in the breast pocket.

“Just hold still. I’m doing something nice, eh.”

She heard the phone click as it unlocked.

“No…do not take my picture,” she held a hand up to cover her face.

“Why?” Tommy’s brow furrowed, “It’s a cherry blossom. They’re nice, aren’t they?”

“I…just,” she huffed, dropping her hand as her lip jutted out in a pout, realizing she didn’t exactly have a good reason other than she didn’t want to. “Is it my phone?”

“No. I can send it to you then I’ll delete it.”

“Fine.” She smiled for a second before frowning again, “Only if we can go get cheesecake.”

Tommy rolled his eyes before nodding.

She failed to mention the walk was up one of the steeper hills in the area. They wandered slowly, and Quinn would point out different houses and tell him who had once lived there, or talk about how the city had changed in the time she had known it.

“There was one time,” she led the way through the crosswalk, and her pace picked up, making Tommy assume they were in the final stretch as she eyed the store on the opposite corner, “I thought I wanted to do theatre. So I go to the auditions, I was so nervous the whole time that I didn’t get a role at all,” she looked at the lack of cars on the street and the crosswalk sign, still red, “but they put me on a team to help with set dressing and props. It was mayhem. You wouldn’t think there would be that much stuff to move around and keep track of. Despite all that, they ended up letting me be in charge of two props,” she held up two fingers as the light changed, continuing across the street as she spoke, “I don’t know if they thought I was stupid or what but the only things I was in charge of was a top hat and a coconut.”

She was surprised when she heard Tommy laugh behind her. An actual laugh.

The painted brick store was actually quite nice on the inside. Lavish bottles of wine and higher end snacks and cheeses packed it to the brim.

“Oh, I don’t know what I want.” She crouched in front of a large refrigerated display case, reading the small cards that described each flavor. “Maybe the chocolate.”

“They all look excessively rich.”

“Are you telling me you don’t have a sweet tooth?” She stood, furrowing her brow with a small amount of offense seeping into her voice.

Tommy shrugged, maintaining an air of nonchalance, hands stuffed in his pockets, “It would ruin dinner.”

“Tommy, we’re grown ass adults. We’re allowed to have dessert before dinner.”

“You’re really eating it now?”

“Yes!” She crossed her arms, “I didn’t walk all this way for nothing.”

She ended up asking for two instead of just one, pilfering a pair of bamboo forks from the dispenser on the counter top before going to the register.

“Just these,” she put both of the plastic containers on the counter, “oh, and can I also get a pack of orange American Spirits?”

“Yep, can I see your ID?” The girl working the register, someone she recognized from school, a friend would be a stretch to say, grabbed the pack anyway, setting them on the counter.

She turned to Tommy, hand out, “Can I have my phone?”

She pried the back of the phone case off, before handing over her drivers license and debit card.

“Oh! Quinn, that is you!”

She smiled sheepishly, tucking the cards back inside her phone case, “In the flesh.”

The rest of the transaction was fairly silent and awkward, “Well, it was good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Quinn agreed, gathering up the loot before they departed silently.

“Who was she?”

“Oh, we went to school together.” She dug in the bag, pulling out the container before deciding better of eating when walking down the steep hill and returning it to the bag.

“And she didn’t recognize you?”

“We weren’t friends. We just knew of eachother.”

There was silence most of the walk back to the downtown area. Different thoughts flitted through her head.

She had done so much to distance herself and become someone new, more herself, why was she so offended that she was apparently unrecognizable now that she had returned? She had gained some weight, sure, but everyone did, didn't they? Twenty some pounds from 19 to 27 couldn’t be that bad.

Tommy could tell something about the interaction had obliterated the good mood she had been in. She walked silently next to him, the only noise reminding him of her presence was the click of her shoes on the concrete.

“When we get back I want to go upstairs and go to the bathroom and put this stuff in the little fridge.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

People bustled in and out of the front door, the lobby buzzing with conversation as Quinn cut through to the elevator and waited patiently, rocking back and forth from heel to toe while they waited.

“What time is it now?”

“Four forty five.”

“Oh good, we managed to kill a solid hour.”

The elevator dinged and Quinn welcomed the silence the closing door brought along with it. The walk to their room luckily wasn’t long, and people were all up and down the hallway in various states of checking in.

She closed the door a little harsher than needed, toeing off the shoes and setting the bag on top of the dresser while Tommy crossed to open the small balcony.

“There’s no smoking in the room.”

Quinn flopped down on one of the made beds, feet tucked under her as she took a bite of the cheesecake.

“I’m not in the room.” Tommy prodded, back pressed against the metal rail as he lit one of her cigarettes.

“Hmm,” part of the sound that escaped her was definitely a moan that she didn’t feel bad about, “yep, that was well worth walking 40 minutes for.”

She took a few more bites, cramming the entire bag in to the mini fridge, before she fell back on to the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“You'll mess your hair up, love.”

She shrugged, and the linen crinkled under her shoulders as she did.

“It’s fine. They already think we’re up here having a quickie, I’m sure,” she propped herself up on her elbows, to find he was standing in the other direction, elbows braced on the balcony as he looked out over the buildings.

“Your family seems overly concerned about your sex life.”

“Apparently enjoying sex is embarrassing to a group of women who think of it as a chore,” she snorted, joining him in place and position as he handed her the pack of cigarettes, “sorry, that was probably way too much information. I was the last one in the house and turned into my mother’s therapist somehow, so I know exactly how much she thinks of it as a chore.”

“That’s terrible.”

She laughed, “That I know or that people think of it that way?”

She tried her best to divert the conversation from any way focusing on her parents sex life in particular. It grossed her out just thinking about it.

“Both,” she could see him look at her out of the corner of her eye, a long look that drank in every bit of her, “there’s no reason to deny yourself something that brings you pleasure, eh?”

She choked as she took another drag off the cigarette, turning away to cough until she could catch her breath before she stubbed the barely touched cigarette out on the balcony.

“Just give me a minute, then we can go.” She explained, ducking into the bathroom and flicking the lock shut before she lent against the wall, taking a shuddering breath.

Quinn turned on the faucet, letting the water run while she bunched up her dress to use the toilet.

Ever since he had kissed her the other night she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Fuck. If there was ever a more obvious moment you just fucking blew it, Quinn.

She washed her hands, giving her teeth a quick brush before returning back to the other part of the room, happily slipping her shoes back on to avoid the scratchy carpet.

“Okay, let’s get this over with.”

“Please tell me there’s an open bar.” Quinn whispered as they returned back downstairs to the decorated ballroom.

“Are you—“

“No, but my family is hilarious when they’re drunk and if I don't have something that resembles alcohol they’ll think somethings wrong with me. If I do, well, that’s two years down the drain and then I’ll be a certifiable shit show, so if I don’t make it to the bar and say I want a vodka soda just get me a soda water with some lime. It’ll be disgusting, but, I’ll live.”

Quinn’s brow furrowed at the ornately written seating chart. She knew they’d be sitting at a table with the rest of her family, but she had secretly hoped she would be exiled to the table with a few of her fun cousins instead.

The night seemed to drag on. Cocktail hour surely shouldn’t have taken this long, but maybe it was going by quicker for the few of them who were on their way to being drunk.

“Oh good, at least the rolls are good,” Quinn tore into it, as her sister chuckled.

“Well, that’s why you carry your weight in your hips, it’s the carbs.”

She swallowed thickly, not seeing Tommy watch her out of the corner of his eye as she sat the roll on the side of the plate and picked through the salad.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he said quietly enough so only Monica and Quinn heard, but it was enough to ignite a fire.

Monica was always ready for an argument.

“Excuse me?”

He cleared his throat, setting down the silverware, tongue tracing the inside of teeth slightly tainted with nicotine.

Quinn watched as he turned his head like a cobra getting ready to strike, eyes glancing up to choose words carefully before speaking, “if you have your own insecurities, you don’t need to take them out on—“

“All I mean is, if you would have met her before, when she was working at the bar, she was going to the gym five days a week and wouldn’t touch anything that wasn’t a salad.”

“Well, I’m not really sure this is the time or place—“

“Don’t waste your breath, Tommy.” Quinn shook her head, giving his arm a firm pat, “Will you get me a drink?”

“Yes.” He sighed, smoothing a stray piece of hair before planting a kiss to her temple as he stood, “What would you like, love?”

“Just a vodka soda.” She smiled at the rehearsed words, the gesture of touch sent her stomach fluttering.

He nodded, smoothing his hand along her shoulders, already being able to see the toll the conversation was taking on her mentally.

Monica had her lips pursed as he walked away from the table. “So, I know mom won’t ask but I’m sure she’s dying to know, how old is he?”

Quinn hated that she was the baby of the family. Not that there was a huge age difference because all of her and her sisters had been born in rapid succession over 6 years, with a set of twins and a different set of Irish twins born smack dab in the middle of them all, which made Tommy still older than her oldest sister, “Thirty-two.”

“Oh. Wow. Is it money, or what? It’s money, isn’t it. Not that he’s bad looking…” She could have swatted her sister as she tracked Tommy through the crowd over her shoulder.

Quinn shook her head, “No, I’m not for want,” she tried to find some true words to say about the situation, “we just hit it off when we met, and here we are. Besides, I think everyone forgets that dad is six years older than mom. Tommy won’t be thirty-three until December.”

Not the entire truth, not a lie either.

He returned after a strangely long period of time with said soda water and a whiskey for himself, and Quinn was surprised when Monica decided to be rather amicable in her line of questioning.

“So, Tommy, I don’t know if I’ve missed it or if no one has asked, but what is it you do?”

He gave a small smile as the plates were cleared, “My family owns several different businesses in different sectors: Construction. A few restaurants. Two bars. Storage units and skip rental are surprisingly profitable with little to no overhead, respectively. The largest deals with cargo, overseas shipping and logistics, as well as FTL and LTL freight.”

Quinn watched her sister’s eyes grow wider as he continued to talk, trying not to laugh at her for previously mistaking him for some kind of idiot, “Two years ago we purchased USF Holland, however they only have stations in the Midwest. Recently, we bought out Old Dominion Freight Lines. Before the acquisition they had stations all across the United States from Mexico to Canada. It seemed to be the next logical step, why worry about the competition?”

Monica only nodded.

He continued, and Quinn realized that he was truly trying to rub it in as best as he could for the attitude she had just tried to pull with him, his hand returning to the spot on Quinn’s knee as he spoke, “I figured the timing was good, with coming here, I might as well drop by the main office in Holland on Monday and pay them a visit.”

“You should talk to our dad and see if he can get you in contact with the shipping manager at his work, they’ve—“

“Monnie,” Quinn quirked a brow, but her sister didn’t relent in dispersing information that, given the situation, should have been coming from Quinn. Tommy gave her knee a gentle squeeze, but all it really accomplished was causing her to feel even more flustered than she already was.

“They,” she continued, again, as if trying to be the one with the upper hand, interrupting her sister, as she turned her attention back to Tommy, “have been having issues with the logistics company they contract through, they’ve been short on drivers, and sometimes they just don’t show up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Was she under the impression that, despite them staying with Quinn’s parents the whole time, that they hadn’t spoken?

Quinn, for what felt like the first time that night, let her eyes scan the room, full with people, some she knew, family and close family friends, and most she didn’t.

“Well,” she smiled, before the sigh she was holding back escaped her, respite music playing in the background as tables continued to be cleared silently by well dressed wait staff, “we should go socialize.”

Tommy nodded once in agreement. She noted the unfinished glass he left on the table as they stood, his hand finding the small of her back although she led the way.

“I think it’s a shame that even the better bar package considers a good whiskey to be Jack Daniels; the Vodka is Tito’s and the Gin is Bombay, but then they use Jack.” She shook her head, gesturing with her hand as she spoke, as if putting each one on display in her head.

She saw him give a half smile out of the corner of her eye, “I’ll live, eh?”

“I suppose so.”

By the time they worked their way through their fair share of people, repeating the same made up story over and over that they had made sure was airtight, Tommy could sense Quinn’s agitation as they got stuck talking to her uncle, a white haired man she introduced as Frank, who seemed unrelenting in his questioning as to why Quinn hadn’t continued working at the MoMA.

“Uncle Frank, trust me,” she shifted her weight, slipping her foot in and out of the shoe, as she surveyed the room, “the benefits package was mediocre at best, the hours they wanted me to work were terrible, and I make more now then I would have ever dreamed of working my way up to there.”

“Quinn, the MoMA is a well known and respected place—“

“And with all due respect, I feel I’m doing better for myself now that I ever would have if I stayed there.”

Her words seemed to silence him and it seemed like the perfect time to offer the only reasonable escape he could think of as the music switched.

The quiet drumming preceded words, bringing along with it a memory of a dreary day spent trapped in the little council house on Watery Lane as Polly, Ada, and their Anna adamantly decorated for Christmas, the small selection of decor having come from the charity shop.

Tommy only knew because he had been the oldest one home. Polly never would have let the kids know that, always doing her best to not make them feel like they were poor, that they were less than.

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars…

“C’mon,” bare knuckles drug along her spine brought Quinn back to reality from the tirade she could have went on, he mind drifting to her fathers reminder about liquidating and purchasing something worthwhile, “let’s dance.”

Her eyes widened as she registered the words, a deep breath settling the churning of her stomach, knowing she didn’t have a way out of it.

“Okay.” A small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as she nodded.

Her mother was going to shit a brick. No one ever got her to dance. Not at the last 5 weddings she’d had to attend.

Of course, Emily had decided to go overkill with the whole thing and they had a live band.

In other words

Hold my hand…

“I told you I’m not good at this,” she whispered, one of her hands taken with his while the other came to rest on his shoulder.

“There’s nothing to be bad at, love,” he had to resist each time it crossed his mind reaching down and grabbing her ass, resist pulling her any closer than she already was as his fingers pressed into the bare skin of her lower back, the action itself sending a shiver along her skin and straight into her gut, “I lead and you follow.”

She did as he suggested. “My Opa taught me to dance to Sinatra in his living room when I was a kid.”

“Your mom told me.”

She shook her head, a small roll of her eyes at the open endedness of his statement, but he could tell from the smile playing at the corner of her lips that she wasn’t too angry about it.

The silence between the two of them was welcome after the constant conversation from the rest of the night.

“Smoke?” She questioned as the song quit, itching to get a breath of fresh air.

The irony.

For a second, he met eyes with Gerard across the room, trying to imagine if there was a hole nearby he could dig deep enough to bury him in.

The river down the road was running a close second for a good spot for him.

Tommy didn’t like the look of him, and that was putting it simply. The way he watched them across the room like a predator tracking it’s prey put him on edge.

“Come on, Quinn. I just got you out here.”

“One. One more. Then I’m done.”

Her heels clicked across the marble floor of the entryway before they exited into the crisp night air, traffic filled the road and people mingled on the sidewalk.

Some of the passerby’s she recognized and some she didn’t.

“Here.” he shrugged off the suit jacket before draping it over her shoulders, her painted nails fishing inside the breast pocket until she pulled out the pack of cigarettes she had made him carry for her earlier.

She offered the pack, handing it off to him before cramming her arms through the jacket sleeves with a chuckle, reveling in the warmth held in the fabric.

“Thanks.”

Tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear, she blocked the wind as Tommy lit the cigarette for her.

“You’re a fine dancer.”

“Only fine?” She laughed from the spot she had taken up, leaning against the brick of the building.

He hummed, the cigarette dangling between his lips as his eyes scanned her face before he offered her a hand.

“No music,” she commented, taking the cigarette with her left hand as she placed her now free hand in his.

“You just have to imagine it,” he smiled, the sarcasm of his comment making Quinn shake her head.

She followed as he led, before breaking down into a fit of giggles, head thrown back before she spoke, “I’m sorry, we probably just look like two idiots out here.”

“Fuck ‘em,” he quipped, enjoying the sound of her laugh as he exhaled the cloud of smoke, taking wide steps, turning them in a quick circle as she relaxed against him.

“Okay, okay, no more spins or I’m going to hurl.”

Burying herself against his chest, fitting herself under his chin just so, she relaxed for what felt like the first time all day.

Smoke rolled from between her fingers before she took another drag of the cigarette.

“We’ve almost survived it,” she whispered, a contented sigh escaping her.

Tommy chucked the cigarette butt on the ground before extinguishing it with the sole of his shoe as Quinn shivered.

“We can go back in,” he offered, breath warm against her ear as he spoke, “no reason to freeze out here.”

Quinn nodded, shrugging out of the jacket as they walked back through the doors. Tommy draped it over his arm, letting her pull him along once she laced their fingers together.

“I don’t think this is the way,” Tommy objected.

Quinn hummed, not saying anything, until she found one of the cream white doors without a room number, instead a plaque reading staff was affixed to the door.

She opened the door, leaning inside to make sure it was unoccupied, before pulling Tommy in behind her and closing the door, leaving them in total darkness.

He knew at the beginning of the night that slit in her dress would be the death of him. Her lips were soft and her fingers were in his hair so fast, long nails gently raking through the shortest part of his hair, light enough to not leave a mark.

“Quinn,” her own name was warm against her skin as his lips moved along the column of her throat to her collar bone, hands firmly grasping her hips as she moved to wrap one leg around his waist.

“We’re not doing this in a fucking linen closet, yeah?” Even though he phrased it as a question, she knew it wasn’t. She could feel the wire racking pushed in to her back as she moved, trying to find some sort of friction to satiate the need that radiated from deep in her stomach.

His fingers gently brushed along the leg that was around his waist, a groan passing between her lips as Tommy recaptured them once again, and the fabric of the skirt of the dress falling to the side as he did so.

She was thankful for the dark hiding the flush of her neck and face, feeling the heat creeping through her body, as the hand that was wandering seemed to finally reach its destination, grabbing her ass rather roughly as her stomach trembled, the pads of his fingers massaging gently at her hip.

“You've been walking around all night with no panties on, haven’t you?”

She shrugged, a grin softly gracing her lips as she bit her bottom lip, “The back of the dress was cut too low and I didn’t feel like buying anything once I realized.”

Tommy caught the mischievous glint in her eye as she gently relocated his hand between her thighs.

With her vision adjusted she could see his eyes roll in their sockets as his head fell back, a quiet “fuck” passing between his lips.

The tiniest set of metal beads was the first thing he felt, warm from the heat that radiated from her skin, taking a second to think.

No, that’s new.

“C’mon, then,” Tommy had her over his shoulder and out the door before she had a chance to protest.

“Thomas Michael! Put me down!” From the squeal and laugh she let out as she settled over his shoulder, he could tell she wasn’t upset about it.

Smoothing the fabric of her dress so it covered her, he was dead set on avoiding her request. She was short and light enough to carry. Maybe once they got to the elevator—

“Hey!” Music could still be heard coming from the ballroom but Erica was louder, hands cupped to magnify her voice, short blonde curls bouncing, as she struggled to hold her beer and get their attention at the same time.

Quinn smiled as she looked up, throwing the loose pieces of hair out of her face, to see her sister waving them down, “Come catch these flowers you little fucking nympho! Then you can go upstairs and keep fucking!”

Tommy thought there weren’t too many things that would make him turn red, but they almost talked as terribly as John and Arthur.

“Want down?” She had her elbows resting in the middle of his shoulders, bare feet outstretched to keep her balance while Tommy carried her shoes, and his jacket, turning to walk in the direction that her sister yelled from.

“Nah,” she shrugged, “not yet.”

The music had switched, bass thudding, Quinn hadn’t heard the words until they got closer. The band had packed up and there was music being played by a DJ now that the older members of their family had retired to their rooms.

“Okay, okay,” she drummed her hands between his shoulder blades, “put me down!”

Before he could say anything she took off running, handfuls of her dress pulled tight to not trip, and Tommy settled for standing in the doorway holding her shoes. She either knew the song or the younger girl that she spun in a circle, laughing between the two of them as she did so.

There was talking over a microphone, but in truth, Tommy, between watching Quinn and the rest of the excitement, didn’t tune into exactly what was being said, or much of his surroundings except some loud whistles and prodding from one of her sisters, until she was about a foot away from him.

“Okay, let’s go.” Quinn beamed, skin flushed, before rounding the corner into the hall, twirling the bouquet between her fingers and wrapping her arm around his waist.

“What are those?” He asked, nodding to the flowers as she swung them back and forth as they waited for the elevator.

Quinn smiled, fingers finding the back of her neck awkwardly as the bell dinged, “Uh, if you catch the bouquet, supposedly, you're the next one getting married, but I think I’ve always been the one to catch it so clearly that doesn’t work.”

He wondered for a moment if anyone would notice the elevator being out of service, but by the time the thought fully formed, the doors were already opening to their floor.

Quinn knew they had purposely put them at the end of the hall, no one across from them or next to them for their own fucked up form of privacy so no one would be banging on the wall to get them to be quiet.

Once the door shut behind them Quinn’s fingers wrapped into the lapels of his jacket, back pressed against the door before she had time to think.

A small moan escaped her as his mouth found its way back to the column of her throat. She once again smelled like the orange blossom and vanilla with something floral, warm and unidentifiable, in the mix.

“Wait,” the word came out breathlessly as Tommy pulled back to look at her, icy eyes alight with some kind of fire as he searched her face for the reason for her protest.

Quinn continued to thread her fingers slowly though the longest part of his hair, a small smile playing at the corners of her darkened lips, “Do you have a condom?”

“No,” Tommy smiled, tongue ghosting across his lower lip as his hands continued to knead at the exposed flesh of her lower back, foreheads pressed together, “didn’t anticipate it going like this.”

Quinn smiled, a real one until her cheeks hurt, biting her tongue for a moment as she loosened his tie, fingers ghosting over the shirt buttons, “So, you went to all this trouble, what, just because?”

“Mhmm.” He admitted, thumb gently stroking along her cheek as he spoke, “Because you asked.”

Quinn ran her tongue along the inside of her lip fiddling with the gold post as she thought, heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you have…” she looked away, eyes shifting, as she tried to find the politest way to word her question, “anything?”

The way her nose scrunched gave Tommy enough context to figure out what she was asking.

He blinked, slowly, hands roaming her hips as she pulled herself away from the door, forcing his feet to move backwards as she did.

“The whole truth?”

“I do know where you live,” she quipped, “I’ll hunt you down if you make me.”

“Chlamydia. Once. About 15 years ago.” He paused, reaching for the tie on her dress that he fixed hours ago, knowing it was knotted just right that it would be undone in one fell swoop, “You?”

“No,” she shook her head, pulling the knot of his tie until it was loose fabric in her hands, “nothing, never.”

The fabric slid from her shoulders easily with his light guidance, pooling around her waist. She stepped out of it, thankful her shoes were already gone or she would have felt rather foolish.

“Did it hurt?” He questioned, the glint of the metal catching the small amount of light in the room as she worked through the last of the buttons on the dress shirt, sat on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah,” she chuckled, hesitating for a moment with fingers tucked into the waist of his pants, “they put a needle through one of the most sensitive parts of my body. Of course it hurt. But the way it feels now made it well fucking worth it.”

She smiled as she watched his eyes flare up, pupils dilating with arousal as she continued on with declothing him, fingers gently moving as she cupped the bulge in his trousers.

She felt so stupid, the word nervous was an understatement. Fully fucking naked and still trying to get him undressed.

It’s like riding a bike, Quinn. You can do this.

Apparently he wasn’t too unperturbed by her lack of hurry, grip firm but gentle all at once on the back of her neck to bring her closer once again, bending to close the space so their lips could meet.

He undid the belt, between her nails and being flustered it had been giving her the most issues, pulling off the top layers and tossing them aside as she finally managed to free his aching cock from his slacks and boxers in one pull, springing back against his stomach once freed, not taking the time to push the rest of the garments down his legs before wrapping a hand gently around him.

“You don’t have to.”

Quinn leaned into the feeling of his hand on her throat, a smile played at the corner of her lips before she took him in her mouth.

“Hmm,” she let her tongue circle the head, purple and filled with blood, before working him down into her throat.

“Fuck,” Quinn heard his whisper as his fingers worked into the hair at the nape of her neck.

She moaned with her mouth full of him, slowly pushing him to and from the back of her throat, dragging her nails down his thigh, her other hand stroking at the the parts of him that wouldn’t fit in her mouth, brushing against the shortly trimmed dark hair, as he reached to palm her breast, the only part of her, Tommy was surprised to see, that still was unmarked by any permanent markings.

She sighed as she came up for air, thumb rubbing over his tip to play with the drop of precum that glistened in the low light. She swiped away the string of saliva that strung between them, a small yelp escaping when he lay her back on the bed with a gentle push, as he discarded the final pieces of clothing in the pile with the rest.

Quinn situated herself on the pillows, as she pulled out hairpins and ties and tossed them haphazardly on the floor as Tommy’s hand found her hip, his other hand rested against the shell of her ear, as he turned her to look up at him.

She placed her hand on his chest, looking up at him through her lashes, trying to read his expression, as Tommy kissed from her temple to her jaw, gently sucking at the spot behind her ear, a shiver running through her.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” she kept her eyes closed as he whispered the words in her ear, resisting shaking her head at the compliment.

She chuckled as a smile pulled at her mouth, turning him so she could deepen an actual kiss as the hand that wasn’t supporting his weight slipped between her parted thighs.

“Fuck,” she sighed, surprised by the gasp that left her own mouth as he slipped two fingers in her, to gather the wet that had accumulated and slowly circled the sensitive, waiting, bundle of nerves.

That alone had her ready to explode. Quinn tried to focus on anything but how blissed out she already felt, how cool the sheets felt, how dry her mouth was, anything, the fan of the air conditioner running almost had her distracted, but eventually she came back to the heat of every spot where his body touched hers, which was exactly the opposite of a distraction that would keep her from being finished in however many seconds it had been of him touching her.

His mouth had worked over her neck and collar bone, her back arching as Tommy pulled a swollen nipple between his lips, his fingers slipping back inside her, this time the pressure filled her completely before he stopped.

“What?” Quinn asked, breathless, as she opened her eyes fully, the reality of the situation hitting her like a ton of bricks, that they were actually doing this, and she noted the way his movement stalled as his brows drew together in confusion.

“What is that?” He moved his fingers, pushing on the clear jelly band situated inside her.

“Oh, shit. That’s my birth control…thing. It just stays in there. Don’t pull it out.”

“Will it get stuck?”

She rolled her eyes slowly as she thought, not wanting to admit that she hadn’t actually had sex in the last two years since switching to it from the pill.

I’ve never had a dildo pull it out but none of them are that big either.

“Not sure. Guess we’ll find out.”

Her breath quickened the lower his mouth traveled along her body, kissing and nipping and sucking at the skin as he did, before the warm heat of his mouth enveloped her clit.

Quinn, in the midst of struggling to put together a coherent string of words through the noises that left her mouth, let alone a thought, realized there was something daunting but also gratifying about seeing him nestled between her thighs, the work of her own hands emblazoned on his back fully on display.

“Fuck, Tommy,” her mouth was slack, brows pulled together in what he could only assume was excitement, when he finally let their eyes meet, giving her thigh a firm squeeze as her nimble fingers wrapped into his hair once again, tight, pulling, almost guiding him, the pitch of her voice higher than he was used to, “fuck, yes, right there.”

Through the cloudiness in her brain she realized it was the sinfully wet sounds each time his fingers filled her that was going to be the final thing to push her over the edge.

“Please,” she begged, hips lifting to try and gain more friction before being halted by Tommy’s free hand on her hip holding her tight.

“Please, what, love?” He drawled, lips traveling the inside of her thigh while waiting for an answer, all motion halted with two fingers still buried in her sopping cunt.

Her head was buried back in the pillows, adorned skin glowing on white sheets, pink nipples standing at attention from her own assault of them.

“You look like,” the words were a whisper, the hoarseness of his voice a contrast to gentle kisses pressed along her stomach. Quinn, for a second, thought about pushing him away as a sudden shyness came over her, “a fucking Corradini sculpture.”

Her laugh was caught in her throat with the angle she was laying. “There’s nothing close to fucking modest about this.”

In truth, she didn’t care. The sensation of being touched by another person was almost too much.

She rolled her hips enough to make the fullness from his fingers reach back and graze the white hot nub deep inside her.

“I think…” she choked out the words as his rhythm picked up, “you forgot what you were doing.”

He felt her tense as her toes curled, foot pressed into his back, her moans and breathless pants spurring him on further as he looked to see her eyes were screwed shut, back arched off of the bed and fingers tight in his hair as he continued to circle the tight bundle of nerves with his tongue, making sure to pay special attention to the metal ends of the bar each time he encountered them.

It didn’t take much longer before she came undone around his fingers, grasping at the blanket as she rocked her hips, silent swears and sweet moans passed breathlessly between her lips.

Quinn let out a shuddering breath as he left her empty, her own wet coating her thighs as her heavy lidded eyes met his and she broke out in a grin.

She tried to control the tremble in her hand as she cupped his jaw, pulling him close enough to taste herself.

She huffed as he broke away.

“Are you sure?”

“About?” Her brows drew together as she questioned him, the watering of her eyes leaving her makeup running a tad.

Tommy decided she looked good being a flustered mess.

“Not using anything. I can—“

“Ninety-four percent. That’s the efficacy percentage of my birth control. So, I’m that sure.”

Tommy swallowed, he had gambled with worse odds, but he knew the consequence of that last six percent all too well. He had a suspicion that there would be no pulling out once he felt her heat around him.

She sensed the hesitation, “So that’s a yes. Yes I’m sure, Tommy.”

He flipped them over, and Quinn let out a playful shriek as he pulled her astride his lap, slipping her free hand between them to line him up with her entrance, unsteady legs relaxing to let him inside her.

“Fuck, stop, hold on,” she steadied herself with a firm grip on his shoulder as she reached to unstick the part of herself that was folded up in, “sorry, stuck.”

“No sorries, eh?” His hands roamed her skin, fingertips resting in the dimples on her back , “Just tell me what you need, darling.”

Quinn felt her stomach flip, his gentle reassurance catching her off guard, but the only response she could muster was a quick nod as her fingers worked her way back into his hair, mouth falling open as he thrusted up in to her.

“Fuck, Tommy,” he tried to hold back, letting her set the pace as she took back control of the situation, shadows and pale skin dancing together in the moonlight thay crept through the crack in the curtains.

She rested her cheek on top of his head, a series of quiet moans falling into his ear as his hands found her hips, helping her, holding her, guiding her as she worked herself on and off of him.

The visual alone as Tommy watched himself disappear inside of her, what he could see through the small gap that her breasts allowed, the way her body moved, stomach trembling as she took his length fully was enough to send him over the edge, but the sensation of of her plush heat growing tight around him was making it difficult to keep his composure, difficult to not throw her down and fuck her senseless.

“Yes, Tommy, fuck. Right there, yes, yes, yes. Shit.” The change in her voice between each of the words caught him off guard, but he could tell from how incoherent everything was becoming that she was close.

“Fuck,” Tommy spoke the words gently against her skin, “so fucking wet, Quinn. Feels so fucking good.”

“Shit,” Quinn swallowed hard as she buried her face in his neck, “Fuck, yes, don’t fucking…” she sighed as she tried to talk, the words intermixed with moans and gasps as she tilted her hips, the change in angle being just enough for him to hit the white hot spot inside her, making her gasp, the combination of her clit being stimulated as she filled herself with him over and over was making it hard for her to keep a grip on reality.

“Don’t, fuck, don’t stop talking; tell me what you want.” She finally choked out what she had been trying to say for what felt like forever, hips aching as she could almost taste how close she was to finishing, while at the same time trying to push the feeling away for as long as possible, to enjoy it as long as she could.

“I want you to stop fighting it,” Tommy whispered, hand finding the back of her neck, fingers in her hair, turning her so she had to look at him, “I want to feel you.”

Quinn had tried to tell herself that she was not going to allow herself to kiss him when she finished. Something about it was too personal (as if him being buried deep inside of her wasn’t), but she gave in when the moment happened, everything inside her giving up, burning every ounce of resolve she had built up to the ground.

She felt clumsy about it as she did, unsteady as their lips met, the hold he had on her hair tightened and she was surprised when she felt the pressure of him swelling before he spilled inside her, because if she hadn’t had finished already that alone would have ended her.

“Can you get me a towel?” She was trying to not laugh at the predicament they were in. There was going to be a mess regardless.

But he returned quicker than she expected, and she crammed the white towel between her legs quickly, trying to make her aching legs transport her somewhat elegantly to the bathroom.

She washed up as best as she could without getting in the shower, and debated taking one of the robes off the door, but she made a dash for the covers instead, surprised when Tommy adjusted to let her curl against his chest, warm from the cold air outside the blankets.

Quinn hummed contentedly as she continued to thread her fingers through the hair on his chest, the action alone being enough to start to rile her back up as she squirmed closer, the smile on her face buried against his chest as she basked in the weightless feeling running through her body.

“So…” she shifted under the blanket, pushing herself up on her elbows so she could see his face, pale freckles and dark lashes, as his eyes shifted to meet hers, “again?”

She couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled her back down against him, arms around her tight, “Gimme a bit, Quinn. I’m not young anymore, eh?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Yay! I assume I’ll have a fair amount of hollering once y’all read this, but let me know good or bad what you think!

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snelbz · 2 years

Text

'Til Death Do Us Part {Chapter Ten}

Elorcan. Rockstar Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

‘Til Death Do Us Part Masterlist

Elide -

I wake up the next morning unable to remember at what point I finally fell asleep.

When I came out of the bathroom the night before, after a shower and a fresh change of comfortable clothes, Lorcan was already on the couch scrolling through his phone. We said our goodnights and then I went into the bedroom and shut the door before crawling onto the California king size bed and falling asleep. It was, without a doubt, the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept on and getting up was a chore in itself.

We had a nice moment together the night before, Lorcan and I. During that moment, when we came to an understanding about our situation, there was a moment when I felt that our setup wasn’t mistake at all.

That feeling nearly disappears when I walk out of the bedroom and find that the suite is empty.

His bag remains just next to the couch that he had slept on, but everything else is gone: wallet, phone, keys, cigarettes. Nothing remains on the countertop that he had tossed there the night before, all of his necessities.

With a frown, I try to remain positive. Then, I feel ridiculous, because I don’t even have my husband’s phone number to text him and see where he’s at.

Maybe he’s at breakfast or went down the street to pick something up instead of settling for the continental breakfast. With that in mind, he should be back soon. I decide to take a shower, taking one much longer than I would in my own apartment. I let the hot water soothe my muscles and only get out when it turns lukewarm. Smelling like lavender and vanilla, I get out and wipe off the steamy mirror before peeking my head out of the bathroom door.

“Lorcan?”

Nothing.

I’ve been awake for an hour and he’s still not back. My anxieties start to become more concrete as I finish drying off and get dressed. With the bathroom door open, I apply my makeup and brush and dry my hair.

He still hasn’t returned as I decide to give my straight, dark locks a curl. I curl each section of my hair with tender care, taking far more time than I usually would, and look in the mirror when I’m done. I look hot.

Too bad my husband still isn’t here to see it.

I can’t control my worries any more. Tears sting my eyes but I don’t let them fall. He bailed. I know he did. Even after the moment we shared together last night, he still decided that this marriage wasn’t worth it.

Stupid. I feel so incredibly stupid.

Sure, he left his bag, but he’s a millionaire, I have no doubt. He can replace anything in an instant. He took what was important and left what could be replaced. Including me.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see that it’s nearly eleven, which everyone knows is check out time. I doubt the hotel would kick a couple out of the honeymoon suite the morning after their wedding, but just in case, I don’t want to be caught looking as pathetic as I feel. I pack everything back up into my bag, making everything fit.

Save for one thing. And damn it, that’s what makes the tears finally spill over.

I look at where my wedding dress lays draped across the chair in the corner. I’d laid it out to keep it wrinkle free and in the best shape possible. Now I’m going to have to bundle it up and stuff it under my arm.

Oh, well. That’s what portable steamers are for. Even if it’s going to take me hours to bring it back to life. It wasn’t like he even cared about it, not more than getting it off of me.

I sling my bag over my shoulder, and ball the dress up, taking one last look around the room. It’s beautiful, even now, and I hate that they had to waste it on us.

Sighing, I head for the door. I’ll call Aelin from the lobby. I want to get out of this room and out of—

The electronic lock whirs and clicks as it disengages and the door swings open.

Lorcan walks in, a white cup with green print in each hand, door falling shut behind him. His hair is pulled back into a bun at the back of his head, leaving his handsome face on full display.

Have I mentioned how unfair it is that he looks like that?

He’s dressed similarly to the way he was when I first met him, a tank top and running shorts.

And he’s wearing tennis shoes.

He looks down at my dress in my arms and my bag over my shoulder, before his eyes rise to meet mine. “What’s up?”

It takes me a second to find my voice. “I thought you left.”

His jaw ticks. “So you were just going to leave?”

“I thought you were already gone!” I say again, dropping my bag and dress to the floor. “Your stuff was gone.”

He brushes past me and sets the cups down on the table. He points to his duffle on the floor. “My bag is literally right there.”

“I meant your phone and wallet and cigarettes. The stuff that matters.”

He closes the distance between us and tilts my face up towards his. “Are you crying?”

I try to turn my head, but he grips my chin. I don’t need to answer. The evidence is still shining on my face.

Cupping my face, he asks, “Why?”

I bite my lip to keep my voice from wavering. “I thought you left me already.”

His thumb slowly traces my jaw. “I’m still here. I didn’t leave and I don’t plan to.”

I nod, keeping my eyes on his.

Lorcan’s dark eyes lower, settling on my lips, before meeting my gaze again. He leans down, kissing me softly.

I let him.

He pulls away, but not far. Just enough to say, “I went down to the gym to work out and then ran down the road to get us coffee.” He kisses me again. “I texted Rowan and had him ask Aelin what you usually order.”

At that, I pull back. “Really?”

He picks up one of the cups and holds it out for me. “London Fog? I think?”

The unease in his voice is…adorable.

I take the cup and pop the lid off, closing my eyes and inhaling the heady aroma of earl grey tea and a hint of sweet vanilla.

Smiling, I look up at him. “Thank you.”

He nods, a breath of relief leaving him. “You’re welcome.” He looks back to my bag and my dress on the floor and frowns. “I’m sorry I worried you. I didn’t mean to. You were sleeping so peacefully… I didn’t want to wake you, but I work out almost every single morning.”

“It’s okay,” I say, watching as he sits on the couch and takes off his tennis shoes. “I’m usually one to think of the worst. It’s a bad quality.”

He chuckles. “I think it’s a human quality.”

I take a drink of my tea and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Again. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.” I nod towards his cup. “What did you get?”

He hesitates. “Caramel mocha,” he mumbles. “Extra whip cream. Don’t judge.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. Most of me expected him to tell me he ordered plain coffee, black. “No judgment. Sounds delicious.”

He grins in confirmation, though his eyes narrow on me as he takes a drink. “So, I double checked with the front desk. Our check out is at noon. My roommates are home, so I thought we’d go by my place first. They’re not…so bad.” I raise a brow at his hesitation. He chuckles and picks up the list of guidelines the team left us. “They’re assholes, but harmless. The rules say we have to see where each other lives before we choose where we want to live.”

I nod, that anxiety coming back. The last thing I want is for him to see where I live, but I know it’s part of the rules. We looked over them last night. “As long as I can finish my tea first.”

“I would never come in between a woman and her tea,” he says, and then he’s pulling a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of his bag. “Give me a few minutes to clean up then we’ll go?”

I nod, taking the time to carefully fold my dress while he takes the world’s fastest shower and is ready to go in mere minutes. He comes out, tossing his sweaty clothes into his bag and scoops it up, along with mine. “Ready to go.”

When we get to the lobby, he pulls a valet ticket out of his wallet and gives it to the attendant. As we wait for him to pull up, Lorcan turns to face me.

“I didn’t mention it earlier, what with you trying to leave me and everything—”

I shove him, but it’s about as effective as shoving a brick wall. “I told you, I wasn’t trying to leave you.”

My laughter carries through the parking area.

“It’s a good thing I showed up when I did.” He smiles down at me and clears his throat. “What I was trying to say—”

He’s interrupted, yet again, this time by the valet pulling up in a massive, black truck, the biggest I’ve ever seen. The man has to literally drop out of the cab and as he rounds the front of the truck and hands the keys to Lorcan, my eyes go wide.

I’ve heard of boys and their toys, but this is a little ridiculous.

I also notice him slip a hundred dollar bill to the attendant and I try not to gape. That was…unexpected.

He opens the door for me and I look from the ground to the inside of the truck and then at him. “Lorcan. I can’t get in that thing. I can’t even get my leg up there.”

“Huh,” he says, as if he’s just noticed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll have to help you in.”

My eyes narrow as he approaches me, but before I can say anything, his hands are around my waist and he’s lifting me up onto the seat.

He winks at me, and just before he shuts the door he says, “I’ll get some steps put in on your side so you can get in and out on your own.”

He rounds the front, opening the door and effortlessly swinging himself into the truck. After turning the key, the rumble of the engine just as loud as expected, he pulls out of the lot and onto the main road.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” I say, quietly.

“Do what?” He glances over at me, but keeps his eyes on the road.

“Alter your truck for me.” I’m staring at my hands, grateful he can’t look over at me for more than a second.

He doesn’t respond, and at first I think that’s that and we’re moving on. But then we pull up to a red light and he looks over at me. “Don’t do that.”

I blink. “Do what?”

“Treat yourself like you’re a burden.”

The light changes before I can reply and we fall into a comfortable silence as we drive.

The team gave us a guideline sheet we're supposed to follow, and the first order of business is to move in together, whether we move in to one of our own homes together, or get an entirely new place to live. My apartment is the size of a shoebox, on top of being in a sketchy part of town. He has roommates. Neither seem like very viable options to me.

But rules are rules and Lorcan says he has a vehicle that even I can get into on my own at his house, so his place is our first stop.

We pull up to his condo and I’m baffled, even though I shouldn’t be. It’s one of the grandest buildings in the city, but he doesn’t seem to notice my shock as he parks and we walk into the lobby. The elevator has golden interior and while I’m questioning if it’s real, Lorcan presses the button to the top floor.

“You okay?” He asks. I nod, but I’m sure he knows I’m lying. I feel a ridiculous amount of nerves as the elevator lifts us up. We ride the rest of the way in silence until we get to his floor and it’s not until we stop in front of his door that he turns to look at me.

He rubs the back of his neck and the gesture is adorable.

“My roommates…” he trails off and shakes his head. “They’re nice guys. Really. But, if you think I’m vulgar you haven’t heard anything yet. I apologize for anything that comes out of their mouths.”

I laugh quietly. “And how is it you know them?”

“They’re in the Cadre,” he confesses. “Fenrys and Connall. Brothers. Fenrys has the bigger mouth. Sorry for anything you hear or see.” And with that, he’s opening the door.

The condo is quiet.

But massive.

I notice a spiral staircase in the corner, letting me know that it’s multiple stories. I can’t imagine what the rent is like for this place. My entire apartment would fit in the kitchen alone.

Lorcan takes my hand and I wrap my fingers around his. I like the way his hand feels in mine. I don’t feel as jumpy when I know he’s there. He grounds me.

He shows me the living room and the kitchen, both which are empty, and down the hall to a cinema room. It’s set up like a tiny theater but no one is in it. Across from it is an in-home gym.

“You have a gym in here but prefer to go to the gym with Rowan?” I ask, unable to put any of my other thoughts into words.

He shrugs. “Depends what day it is.”

We continue our tour until we’re walking up the stairs and up to the second floor. The bedrooms are here, I assume, and so is a large gaming room where two similar looking males are sitting on a giant couch, playing Call of Duty. They must be twins.

Thinking past the haze in my mind, I remember them from the wedding.

While their faces are nearly identical matches, they’re opposites in almost every other way. One light, one dark. One in a tank top and board shorts, the other a long-sleeved henley and jeans. The dark twin, he looks put together, despite his long hair. It’s clean and shiny and looks like he actually put effort into his appearance. The blonde one, however, his hair is loose and wavy, messy in an I just woke up and rolled out of bed look.

I turn to my husband, who has a balanced look of the two. He may not be as neat as the man before me swearing at his brother, but I also get the feeling the brutal ruggedness about him wouldn’t be as appealing if he were. Thankfully, it looks like he at least regularly combs his hair.

“If it isn’t the newlyweds,” the blonde one says, noticing us first. “Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”

I tense, but Lorcan’s thumb brushes back and forth over the back of my hand. “Decided to take some time to get to know each other first.”

The one with dark hair nods, as if he thinks we’re making the smart move. “What a small world. You two could have met any time in the past couple years and would have had no idea you were talking to your future spouse.”

I don’t mention that we did in fact meet just over a month ago, and let me just say, I had absolutely no idea I was talking to my future spouse.

Not that I even said much to him.

All I did was judge him by his appearance and his occupation. Now, I’m seeing that I should probably get to know him first.

“Maybe that means it was meant to be,” Lorcan says and winks at me. I chuckle. “Fenrys and Connall.” He points from one to the other. “Brothers, although one’s a bigger pain in the ass.”

Fenrys grins. “Nice to officially meet you. You made a beautiful bride.”

I’m nearly shocked by his compliment. Although, I feel he’s a man that compliments a woman often.

“Is this the part where you’re trying to figure out where to live?” Connall asks. When Lorcan says yes, he says, “No offense, and of course you’re welcome here, but do you really want to live with three guys in a bachelor pad?”

I laugh as I look around the room. The entire apartment is clean and decently neat, but it’s clear that there has never been a woman’s touch. Just a weekly maid’s. “Honestly? Not particularly.” I look to Lorcan, who is laughing quietly. “But, the rules say we have to see where each other lives.”

“So you’ll be living at your place?” Fenrys asks, and I don’t answer. Thankfully he doesn’t give me much time to do so. “Sad day, Lorcan moving out on us.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure Elide prefers to live in a place that at least looks like it's not the inside of a typical man’s brain come to life,” Lorcan mutters, reading my mind.

“Seriously, it looks like a woman has never stepped foot in here until now,” I joke.

But my laughter dies as Fenrys says, “Hasn’t been that long, has it, Lor?”

It’s a joke. I know it’s a joke, but I sense the underlying meaning, sense there’s something he was hinting at.

Connall smacks Fenrys in the back of the head as Lorcan turns to me. “Don’t listen to him—”

“What does he mean by that?” I ask, voice quiet.

“Nothing,” Lorcan says, and glares in Fenrys’ direction. At least he has the mind to give me an apologetic look. “He talks without thinking.”

“Lorcan.” My voice leaves no room for discussion. “Please don’t bullshit me.”

With set lips, Lorcan gives one more look to the brothers before pulling me out of the room.

He drops my hand and rubs his jaw. I don’t know what he’s going to say but I hate the waiting. He goes with, “I’m not a virgin, Elide.”

I’m fully aware of that fact but he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like it explains everything. “But it hasn’t been very long since the last time you’ve been with someone, apparently.” I gesture to the closed door that we just came out of. “So how long has it been?”

At first he doesn’t answer and I shake my head, taking a step back.

He frowns. “Elide—”

“Had you been accepted into the program?” I ask, and when he flinches I know my answer.

“About six weeks ago—” he begins, but I’m already turned around, trying to find my way out of the damn place.

In any other situation, I probably would have busted my ass on the spiral stairs, especially considering my pace and the thundering steps behind me. But I don’t. Instead, I hit the main floor, aiming for the door. I don’t take two steps before his hand wraps around my wrist. “Elide, please, just—”

“Please what?” I ask, turning on him. His eyes are guarded, as if he was expecting my reaction.

He knew I’d be angry, and rightly so. It’s been over six months since our applications went in for this. He knew he would be getting married, knew he was technically engaged, but still.

Shaking my head, I pull my arm from his grip. I can’t believe he slept with someone just weeks ago, when he knew we were going to get married. Part of the deal was that we were supposed to stop dating, relationships, and having sex with others when we found out we had our match and set our wedding date. That was over three months ago.

He still hasn’t answered, so I say, “You knew about me then. You already knew our wedding date. It’s not like they sprung this on you.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you. I just knew the wedding was going to happen.”

I laugh, the sound humorless. “And that wasn’t enough?”

“I don't know, I didn't even think about it in that way. I was just doing my usual shit.” he says, and I can tell he wants to reach out again. I step back so he won’t. “Look, I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. It was just sex with some groupies. It didn't mean anything. It never means anything.”

Scoffing, I cross my arms. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

He crosses the room and drops onto the couch. “Fuck, no, of course, it isn’t.” Dragging a hand through his loose, messy hair, he looks up at me. “I just didn’t want you to think I had some girlfriend on the side or something.”

I start pacing before I can stop myself and I can feel his gaze on me the whole time. I don’t want to think about this. I don’t want to think about my new husband having sex with random women, while we were supposed to be thinking about getting married and committing to each other in every way. I was so excited when I found out they had my match picked and I was technically considered engaged. All I could think about was finally meeting him. I dreamed of what he’d look like, who he was, how he’d act, who we’d be together. I dreamed he was wondering the same about me.

Meanwhile, he was screwing groupies with no thought or care about me at all.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter this time, and I turn to look at him. “I messed up, Elide, and I know that, but I won’t do it again, I promise.”

There’s that humorless laugh again. I sound insane. “You won’t fuck a random groupie or you won’t mess up?”

His eyes narrow on me slightly, but he says, “Both. I’m done fucking groupies and I’m going to do my best not to mess up anymore.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my rage deflating. It’s in the past and there’s nothing that can be done about it now.

Except for one thing.

“What about the tests? Are you still clean?”

One of the more invasive things we’d had to do was a full scale test to ensure no one in the program had any sort of STD they could pass on to their partner. But those were done right after our wedding date was set. He still was having sex weeks after that.

“I’m clean,” Lorcan promises, not getting angry like I expected him to, since I was practically accusing him of having a venereal disease. “I always wear protection and was tested two weeks ago.”

I nod, my anger simmering, but nothing like it was. It’s probably safe for me to sit next to him without strangling him, so I cross the room and sit on the couch next to him. “Does Yrene know?” His brows knit together in confusion and I realize not everyone calls her by her first name apparently. I add, “Dr. Towers.”

He shakes his head quickly. “I definitely didn’t tell her.”

Snorting, I look back up the spiral staircase. “She probably would have kicked you out of the study if she found out.”

“Yeah, and I’d…like to keep that from happening,” he says, drawing my gaze back to his.

My jaw is set. “Fine. I won’t say anything, as long as you don’t fuck anymore groupies.”

Those dark eyes are trained on me, but he says nothing for a second before asking, “Are you jealous?”

I blink. “What?”

He leans in, just a bit. “I get that you’re pissed, and that’s fair. But are you jealous?”

Tripping over my words, I pray that my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “No.”

I’ve seen his body. It’s…magnificent. And I know the reputation he has. I can only imagine that he knows what he’s doing.

The thought has heat pooling in my core.

There’s just enough hesitation that his grin grows. “How long has it been for you?”

“Since what?”

He leans in a little more. “Since you had sex with someone.”

And now I’m sure my cheeks are just as red as I think they are. “That’s none of your business, but I can assure you, it’s a lot longer than six weeks ago. I followed the rules.”

“Good for you,” he murmurs, and I can feel his breath on my lips. “Now tell me.”

“No.”

“Tell me,” he repeats and I feel his hands on my side. “Or I’ll tickle you.”

I swat his hands away, although I can scarcely breathe with him so close. My voice is a whisper when I say, “No and don’t you dare.”

He dared.

His fingers attack my ribs and I erupt into a fit of giggles that overpowers my anger as my head falls back and my back arches. “Stop it!”

He does not and when I meet his eye, he’s grinning. I try to scoot back but I can barely move. I’m ticklish. I know as much. Now, so does he. He keeps tickling me and I’m unable to stop my laughter.

“Fine!” I yell, and I’m smiling so wide that my face hurts. His fingers halt and he looks at me with raised brows. “It’s been…a while.”

He blinks. “Yeah, I’ve collected that. Doesn’t tell me how long.”

And then he’s tickling me again and my laughter and yelling and squirming resumes. Next thing I know, I’ve fallen back against the couch and he comes with me. His fingers still dance along my sides as he gets on his knees between my spread legs. As if he realizes the same time I do, his fingers come to a stop.

We’re both breathing heavily and grinning like fools, although there’s a glint in his eye now that wasn’t there before. My cheeks are flushed and the strap of my tank top is hanging off my shoulder.

He doesn’t move.

Neither do I.

Instead, his hands fall from my sides to the couch cushions on both sides of me. He hovers there on all fours and his eyes fall from mine to my lips then back again.

“You know, I can fix that for you,” he says, and his voice is dangerously low. “When you’re ready. You deserve to have someone make you feel good.”

My toes curl and I forget how to breathe.

As if he needs to prove it, he lets me have a little of his weight, pressing me into the couch. His hips nestle between my parted thighs and I can feel his cock pressed up against me.

“I thought I wasn’t what you wanted.” My voice is breathy, betraying the fact that he’s affecting me in all the wrong ways, though he’d probably say they’re the right ways.

“I thought so, too.” His voice is low, so deep it’s almost just a rumble in his chest. I feel it in my core and fight off the urge to shudder. He brushes a thumb over my lips and then begins to trail a hand down my body, over my ribs and hips until he’s gripping one of my thighs. He pulls me into him at the same time he leans down into me. “But my body apparently wants you…and I think yours wants me too.”

A little gasp escapes me as I breathe, “I want more than that.”

He leans down, brushing his lips against mine in a whisper of a kiss. “I know you do.”

He rocks his hard cock against me and I’m unable to stop the soft moan from tumbling from my lips. He does it a second time and then a third, and then kisses me.

Not a kiss like we shared this morning or a soft brush of the lips.

Lorcan kisses me like a man kisses his wife.

It’s over nearly as quickly as it started, though, and he’s pulling away. “I told you I’d respect your decision, and I will. But I won’t quit trying. Just tell me when to stop and I will, no questions asked.”

I blink, my mind hazy and lust addled. “Wait. You’re going to respect my decision to wait to have sex with you, by trying to have sex with me?”

Tendrils of his hair have fallen loose of his bun and are framing his face. It should honestly be illegal to be this handsome, it’s not fair.

“I’m not going to have sex with you until you explicitly tell me that’s what you want,” he says, leaning in. I can smell his cinnamon toothpaste. “But you can’t tell me you didn’t like what we just did, that you don’t want me to do it again.

I stay quiet, because he’s right, I can’t and I won’t lie.

He grins, knowing the thoughts that are running through my mind.

“Kiss me,” I beg, and he does.

He kisses me in that way again that has me questioning my very existence. His body falls into mine and I can feel the long, thick length of him against my thigh. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have him inside of me. Would I even survive that? He’s so much bigger than I am, I should have known that his cock is massive, too. The thought has my mind reeling and a throbbing forming between my legs that I don’t think I’ll recover from.

His tongue slides against mine and I moan quietly, causing his arm to tighten around my waist.

Kissing him is easy.

If only fucking him was just as easy. The empty ache of my sex grows frustrating and I grind against him for any sort of satisfaction. It must please him, because he groans into my mouth.

Then my thoughts get the better of me.

Six weeks. He was with someone else six weeks ago.

It may have meant nothing, but I can’t just give myself to this man because we signed our marriage certificate. No, he has to earn me. I’ve saved myself since Ren and I wont give my body away over simple lust.

Even though I want him.

Even though the thought of his cock deep inside me will most likely keep me up tonight.

I break the kiss and he looks at me, wild eyed and breathing fast. I can still feel him against my thigh and it’s so damn distracting. I’m tempted to reach out and touch it but I don’t, I refrain, even though it goes against every ounce of my being.

“Stop?” He asks, chest heaving.

Gods, this man.

I nod, not trusting my voice, and without another word, he’s pushing himself off of the couch and offering me a hand up as well. He adjusts himself in his pants and, by the mother, I can see it through his jeans. It’s one thing to feel it, it’s another to see it. I realize that I’m staring at his crotch far longer than I should be.

I look up to find Lorcan already watching me, smirking. Clearing my throat, I pull the strap of my tank top back up and straighten the rest of my clothes, knowing my cheeks, ears, and chest are red.

“So,” I say, clearing my throat. “Living here is a no then?”

“I don’t think so.” He gestures towards the door. “I’m ready if you’re ready.”

My eyes go to the spiral staircase. “Should we tell them we’re leaving?”

He takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together as we head for the door. “Probably best if I don’t see Fen for a few days.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “For telling me the truth?”

“Even if he didn’t mean to and was just running his mouth?” He looks down at me and sighs, but admits, “Yeah.”

His fingers loosen around mine and I think he’s expecting me to pull my hand away. But I don’t. As soon as we’re out in the hall, I say, “I’m glad he did. I’d rather find out now, than three months down the road.”

It’s quiet for a moment as we wait for the elevator. Just before it arrives, I whisper, “If you have any more secrets, now would be the time to tell me.”

The door opens and we step inside. “No more,” he says, pressing the button for the ground floor. “That’s the only one.”

As he says it, his fingers tighten around mine, as if he doesn’t want me to pull away.

I can’t help but think that means there’s more.

#til death do us part #tddup #elorcan #elorcan tddup #throne of glass #snacmc collabs #snelbz x tacmc collabs #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #lorcan lochan #lord lorcan lochan #elide x lorcan

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strandbuckley · 6 months

Note

How are the boys in the quartet spending christmas eve and day? Together? Do they take turns going to each others families? I’m so curious!! 🧡🧡

Merry Christmas friend! My gift to you, some very soft quartet verse Christmas content. I hope you enjoy

Cross-posted on Ao3 here

__________________________________________

Splitting holidays between four people is hard, as they’d recently discovered when they finally got their shit together and sat down to plan out Christmas and New Year’s celebrations. There was no physical way they could all be in their home countries and make time for each other during the holidays and going to see each other’s families was out of the question. Max could have gone with Daniel to Australia, but they felt awful leaving the other two back in Monaco without them. Plus, Christmas wouldn’t really feel complete unless they were all together. So they decided to split up the week before Christmas, Max in Holland, Daniel in Australia, Lando in Belgium and Charles home in Monaco.

It was hard for them, being apart, especially with Daniel in a time zone ten hours ahead. Especially when Lando got whiny, bratty, and needy half-way through the five days and Max had to add Daniel to a joint facetime call where they did their best to talk him into a light sub-space and coordinate aftercare through a screen with Daniel fighting to stay awake at 2am, Australia time. Especially when poor Charles called Max sobbing in the middle of the night because he’d had a nightmare and there was nothing he could do other than talk to him gently, praying his distorted voice through tiny phone speakers was enough.

Needless to say, when Max’s plane touched down in Nice the Monday before Christmas, his arms were aching to hold his boys. He was landing the earliest, with Lando’s plan getting in later that afternoon as he’d made a quick pit stop in England to visit Max F. and Daniel joining them late that night.

Charles was already waiting for them at the apartment, which Max knew because he’d texted them with an update on how badly the cats had destroyed their living space while left partially unattended. Only one of Lando’s hoodies and a small potted plant had been sacrificed to their wrath so Max counted it as mostly successful.

Amour: leaving the airport now

Schatje: good. tell them to drive quickly

Amour: patience my love. i’ll see you soon

Max did silently will his driver to navigate the endless Monaco traffic a bit faster, but the poor man was doing the best he could in a sea of luxury cars and confusing intersections. When they finally reached their apartment, Max could have cheered, but restrained himself, instead thanking the man politely and retrieving his bag from the trunk. He was scarcely in the door before he was practically tackled by Charles.

“I missed you so much!” he cried into Max’s shoulder, fingers fisted into his t-shirt like vices.

“I missed you too Charlie,” Max pulled away to kiss his forehead. “How are your mom and brothers?”

“Mama and Lorenzo are doing well. Arthur was dropped from the Ferrari driver academy so it’s been a tough few days.”

“Poor Arthur,” Max tutted sympathetically. “What’s his plan now?”

“To mope for a while I’m sure. Then he’ll pick himself up and get back to work. A season off might do him some good, even if it isn’t what he wants. He puts too much pressure on himself.”

“Sounds like he takes after his big brother.”

“Oh shut up,” Charles batted at his chest lightly. “I laid out some clean clothes for you and put a towel in the warmer. I thought you might like to shower after your flight.”

“Such a sweet boy. Only if you were planning to shower with me.”

“Of course.”

Charles joined him in the shower as promised, even using one of the eucalyptus shower steamers they usually reserved for aftercare showers to relax them more. He insisted on washing Max’s hair, standing slightly on his tiptoes to make sure he got all of the suds out. Max returned the favor, enjoying the small moans and whimpers Charles let out as he scratched and massaged his scalp. Out of the shower, Max toweled him off and covered his body in the scented lotion he loved before bundling him into some sweatpants and one of his own white t-shirts.

“Can we lie in bed for a while?” Charles asked while Max was dressing himself in the clothes the other had put out for him. “I have a week of cuddles to catch up on.”

“Of course schatje.”

They threw back the covers and climbed into bed, resolving to wait there for Lando to return to them. Max had to admit his left arm felt empty without Lando curled into the crook of it, no hair tickling Max’s chin and drool staining his shirt. He wouldn’t feel complete until the four of them were back together, squeezed right into each other’s space where they belonged. Lando had texted that the plane was taking off just as they were getting out of the shower, so Max kept an eye on his plan tracker to have a rough idea of when he’d be arriving. Charles dozed on and off beside him as Max scrolled on his phone and kept an eye on Lando’s flight information, eager for the youngest to join them.

Eventually, he too dozed off, and was woken by the sound of a key turning in the lock and Lando’s gentle voice greeting Jimmy and Sassy.

“We’re in the bedroom,” Max called out to him and he could hear Lando’s eager footsteps headed their way almost immediately.

Lando let out a soft whine as he practically threw himself on top of Max, pressing their bodies as close as he could physically get them.

“Hi baby boy,” Max said, running gentle hands through his messy curls. “How was your flight?”

“Long. I missed you guys so much.”

“We missed you too love. Go shower, then you can join us.”

Lando huffed in annoyance, but did as he was told, taking what might have been the quickest shower of his life so he could rejoin his partners quickly. He settled in on Max’s other side, pushing up his boyfriend's t-shirt to rest his head against his belly. His arm was slung over Max’s waist to curl in the waistband of Charles’s sleep pants and as soon as he got comfortable and still, he was asleep.

They spent the rest of the day in bed, taking short naps, only getting up to use the bathroom and when Max finally convinced them that they needed to eat something for dinner. They threw together something quick from one of Charles’s prepped meals and ate together on the sofa. Lando was allowed to choose the first Christmas movie of the week which was Home Alone. Undoubtedly, they would end up watching it more than once because Daniel also loved the film.

When Daniel finally texted that his plane to Nice was boarding, Max breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, all four of them would be back together. Charles and Lando insisted on waiting up for him, not caring how late it would be, so in order to stay awake, Charles loaded up Disney+ and began a marathon of the “Santa Clause” movies, which Lando was appalled Max had never seen. The end credits were rolling on the second movie when they heard a key in the lock and Daniel shuffled his way into the apartment, stopping briefly to greet Jimmy who was curling around his ankles. He spotted his boys on the couch, Lando in Max’s lap barely able to keep his eyes open and Charles pressed against his side, cuddling with Sassy.

Daniel kicked off his shoes and padded into the living room. He slotted himself behind Max on the couch, tugging all three of them close so he could get his arms around them.

“Hey,” he pressed a soft kiss to Max’s ear and one to Lando’s shoulder.

“Welcome home,” Max murmured.

Lando rolled from Max’s lap and into his, hooking all four limbs around his body like a little koala.

“Missed you Danny,” he grumbled against the skin of his neck.

“I missed you too, baby boy. I missed all of you guys.”

“Can we go back to bed now?” Charles whined, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair was sticking up in all directions and Daniel thought he looked like a disgruntled hedgehog.

They made their way back to the bedroom, Lando insisting that he was too tired to walk and Daniel humoring him because he’d missed him so much he didn’t particularly want to let him go anyway. When Daniel returned from his quick shower, there was a spot waiting for him between Lando and Charles. He settled into it, the two younger boys immediately snuggling up to his warmth. He turned his head to kiss Max over where Lando was already snoring between them.

“This is going to be the best Christmas we’ve ever had.”

*****

The days leading up to Christmas were spent decorating the entire apartment. (Well, Charles and Lando were decorating. Daniel and Max were mostly supervising and moving the heavy boxes.) After two days of work, the place looked like Santa’s workshop had thrown up and somehow, Lando had struck a deal with the cats to not be destructive for once because the tree was still standing.

While Lando and Charles were playing Santas’s elves, Max and Daniel braved the city to do last minute gift shopping for the two boys. It was the first time they’d be spending the actual holiday together, so they’d decided to spoil them as much as possible. Their main mission had been to pick up the boys’ surprise gifts. They’d all sent each other wish lists almost a month prior so they all had a vague idea of what they’d be getting from the others, but Max and Daniel had decided to surprise Lando and Charles with bracelets. Daniel had bought Max one of the Cartier love bracelets when they’d been together a year, and Max had gotten Daniel one for his birthday the following year. So they’d decided to purchase one for both Lando and Charles as they were coming up on a year of all four of them being together.

When they returned home, the other two gave them a tour of the now unrecognizable apartment before they snuck away to the bedroom to wrap their gifts and place them under the tree. Lando spent a solid fifteen minutes trying to get Max and Daniel to spoil the surprise, only being deterred by Daniel swatting the back of his thigh and threatening him with a spanking.

Their real celebrations started on Christmas Eve. They began the day with a giant breakfast spread, a tradition of Lando’s from when he was a child. They’d all agreed that nothing they ate this week counted because of the holiday and they would just work harder when they resumed training after the new year. Lando assisted Max with making pancakes and scrambled eggs, while Daniel fried bacon and sausage out on the balcony. Charles was tasked with cutting up fruit and making the yogurt dip Lando’s trainer had sent the recipe over (the only remotely healthy thing part of the spread). They ate on the living room floor, bathed in the glow of Christmas lights with “Elf” playing on the TV in the background.

When their bellies were full, they threw the dishes in the sink and moved on to Daniel’s childhood tradition. They each got to open one gift that was under the tree. The only catch was, Daniel got to pick. He handed the three of them boxes, all the same size but wrapped in different types of paper. When the opened them, they pulled out matching sets of pajamas, covered in tiny christmas trees and formula cars, the color scheme corresponding to their respective teams.

“Where did you find these Daniel?” Max managed to ask through his laughter.

Lando had already started stripping off his clothes to replace them with his papaya pjs.

“I have my ways Maxy, don’t you worry.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon lounging in their apartment, snacking on junk food and taking turns showing each other their favorite Christmas movies. Max even managed to find one of his favorite Dutch movies with English subtitles.

“Hey Max,” Lando murmured.

The younger boy was wrapped in a blanket and snuggled against Max’s side.

“Yeah baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Lando.”

“This is the best Christmas ever.”

“I’m glad.”

When they got ready to start dinner, Lando snuck off to the office to play a few games with Max F. and some of his other friends while the other three cooked.

Charles and Max slaved over Pascale’s bread recipe to have with their Christmas dinner that had been dropped off by Brad, who knew that Max would struggle to make those types of food on his own. Conveniently, there was enough for four. Max assumed that Brad knew, though his trainer had never said anything to him. He made a mental note to send him a text later as a thank you.

Charles wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to the back of Max’s neck as he stood at the counter slicing the bread they’d made.

“Looks great,” he commented.

“We did a pretty good job,” Max agreed. He turned in Charles’s arms and gave him a quick kiss. “Will you go tell Lando it’s time to eat?”

Charles nodded and padded off in the direction of the office. He knocked on the door in their secret pattern and waited for Lando to answer.

“Come in!”

Lando was sitting in front of the computer, face lit by the screen, headset half on his head so he could hear Charles.

“Are you muted?’ he murmured, low enough to not be picked up by the mic.

“It’s just Max, you’re safe.”

Charles nodded and made his way into the office fully, pressing a kiss to Lando’s head.

“Dinner is ready.”

“Great, I’m starving.” He turned back to the monitor and tapped a few buttons on his keyboard to turn off the game. “Hey Max, I’m going to eat. I’ll talk to you later.”

From his proximity to Lando’s headset, Charles could vaguely hear his friend’s response, “Alright mate. Have a good night, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas mate.”

They ate their dinner much in the same way they ate their breakfast, the dim lights of the tree bathing them in a warm, yellow glow.

When their plates were clear and the dishes for the day were clean, Daniel stood and clapped his hands.

“Alright boys, better get to bed early or Santa won’t come.”

They all chuckled at Daniel’s antics but followed the oldest to the bedroom and climbed into bed together.

“Merry Christmas my loves,” Max said when they were settled, wrapped up in each other.

“Merry Christmas,” the other three chorused.

*****

Lando woke them up early the next morning like a little boy, dragging his partners to the living room. The youngest of them had been frothing at the mouth for days, both to open his gifts and give gifts to the other three. They made him sit and wait, the poor boy practically bouncing in his seat as Daniel passed the presents around. They’d set a gift limit, one from each person to the others, to keep the pile of gifts from being bigger than was necessary.

When all of the gifts had been opened, and Daniel scooped up the wrapping paper like a dad, Max snuck off to the bedroom to retrieve their surprise gifts.

“Lando and Charles, we have one more gift for you,” he said, handing each of the boys a wrapped box. “This is from both me and Daniel.”

They slid the ribbons off carefully, pulling off the lids to the boxes to look inside.

Lando gasped when he realized what it was, looking up at them with tears already welling in his eyes.

“Really?” he asked, voice soft.

“Yes really. We wanted you two to have your own.”

“Will you put it on me?”

“Of course.”

Max gently tightened the screws on Lando’s band and Daniel did the same for Charles.

“Does it feel alright?”

“It feels great. Thank you Maxy.”

“You’re welcome Lando.”

He pressed a kiss to the youngest’s head, pulling him in for a tight hug. Lando pulled him down onto the couch for a cuddle and Charles did the same to Daniel. Lando and Charles curled up between them, clinging to their partners. Daniel pressed a kiss to Charles’s head and turned to look at Max.

“I told you, best Christmas ever.”

#formula 1 rpf #formula 1 #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #lando norris #charles leclerc #maxiel #lesteppen #dando #charles x lando #charles x daniel #my works #quartet verse

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jokerislandgirl32 · 8 months

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I read one of your character bios for Violet and it’s so funny that she uses Zach’s credit card to shop at bath and body works 😭 Does she buy anything there for him to make up for it? LOL —CCFM

Thank you for the ask, it took me forever, but here it is, and I absolutely love it!!! Now on to the question at hand!!!

She absolutely does! While Violet does purchase items for Zach, most of what she purchases for herself is for Zach’s benefit.

Read the rest below the cut! Sorry it’s long, as usual 😂!

Zach loves when she wears perfume, and she will always lets him pick the scents he likes best for her to use. So, on most of the Bath and Body Works trips he tags along or shows up because she’s taking too long. Violet uses the test strips for the fragrances, gives them to him to smell, and Zach’s very vocal about which he does and does not like. This leads to him insulting the store staff (for scents he hates) and flirting with Violet (for scents he loves).

Zach is a stickler for cleanliness, so she buys hand soap and pocket bac for both of them, Violet usually goes for more clean scents for him, but he’s also a lover of the floral and fruity scents. For hand cleaning purposes, he really likes crisp morning air, turquoise waters, sweet pea, fresh cut lilacs, and Japanese cherry blossom.

Violet buys shower gel for herself, but Zach ends up using it sometimes, so she’s bought him Sweet Pea shower gel on a few occasions, much to his displeasure….

Zach: “I never use that, why did you buy that!?!?”

Violet: “you literally used it this morning, I can smell it on you….”

Zach: “No I didn’t!”

Violet: “Do you want me to take it back?”

Zach: “….No….”

Her go to purchases for him are from the aromatherapy department. She buys him products that help him to relax and unwind after a long day of running his company, trying to outsmart the Wild Kratts, or creating his inventions.

Violet typically purchases items that are Eucalyptus + Spearmint scented to help him relax, and Lavender + Vanilla to help him fall asleep. She’ll get items with these scents in shower/bath gels, shower steamers, candles, lotions, and pillow mist.

She also buys him items from the Men’s Shop. Zach likes these items because they make him feel manly. Zach is prone to coughing at the more “robust scents,” so Violet usually keeps her purchases to the shaving and hair care items. Zach particularly likes the hair gel and beard oil, yes, he uses this only on his soul patch, don’t judge him, lol. He also likes anything in the Black Tie scent because well, it has black in the title, and that’s his color, lol.

And I’d like to end by clarifying that Violet uses his credit card for a lot of things…I kind of headcanon that Zach gave her one of his credit cards when they were still friends so she could get things she needed, prior to her getting a job, and even after when her money was tight, without having to go to her aunt or cousin for the money. Violet is not the type of person who would take advantage of this, and she usually kept her purchases to a minimum.

Even at Bath and Body Works, lol.

#wild kratts #zach varmitech #wild kratts zach #love zach varmitech #wild violet au #violet varmitech #ziolet #wild kratts fanfic #wild kratts oc #bath and body works #bath and body care #bath and body products #asks #nice asks #thanks for the ask!#f/o x s/i #self ship stuff

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callsign-marlie · 2 years

Text

boats on the sea.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x vet tech f! wife reader rating: E-T summary: bradley comforts his wife after losing her favorite patient. warning: ANGST, mentions of pet death (dog), nudity (nothing sexy; just mutual showering), unedited (as per usual) a/n: requested by @kp9983 . hope this makes you feel a little bit better. please stay smiling <3 i'm not a vet tech, so I couldn't tell you if any symptoms/actions the reader is taking are correct. I also have this in the same universe as Acts of Service, just to keep continuity. x marlie

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Bono, your favorite big, loveable goof ball, passed away in your arms. He had been brought in short of breath, drooling more than usual, and was diagnosed by ultrasound with acute heart failure. The whole clinic was abuzz with movement to get him fluids and medicines to ease his pain. Treatments weren't working effectively and the large pooch was more tired than you had ever seen him. You gave him plenty of kisses and snuggles during his traumatic stay, keeping him company through the entirety of your shifts. One second you were leaving a gentle kiss the top of his velvety head. The next, his eyes were drifting closed for the last time. He passed in only three days under your care.

He was gone. Just like that.

You knew that large breeds tended to pass young. Their hearts were just too large and fragile to stand beating all that blood around them. Big dogs like six year old Bono had so much love to give that sometimes, it just broke their heart in two trying to share it with the world. You, being his longest care taker, took upon the gargantuan task of calling his parents to let them know that their special boy was gone. His mom's grief on the other line opened the flood gates, your own cries filling the line.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed to her. "I'm so, so sorry."

They had come to pick him up to take him home; to bury him under his favorite lounging tree in their yard. You made it your personal goal to bring him out to their car with the help of the other doctors and techs on staff. After all, Bono was a special boy; he was loved by everyone in the practice. You left him a kiss on his head, wrapped him in his favorite blanket and closed the trunk, watching the SUV drive away.

The whole staff held a moment of silence for your larger than life patient. There wasn't a dry eye in the room. Although he was only in the ICU for three days, he touched the life of every person there. You watched him grow from a 14 week old, scrappy little man to the gentle giant who gave you the wettest kisses every time he saw you.

You couldn't stop the tears from falling the entire day, thinking of the pooch barreling into your knees at the sight of you, or imagining him bucking against you when you took his temperature, and even laying his giant head on your lap when the veterinarian was checking his lungs. He left a huge hole to fill and you had no idea how to make the pit in your chest stop hurting.

You pulled into your driveway early that night, before the sun had even set. It would still be a little while before Rooster got home, so you had a bit of time to yourself to get it together. You walked into the house, kicking off your shoes and bee lined directly to the showers. Your sinuses were stuffed and the steam would do wonders for opening everything back up. You used a lavender scented steamer for a boost of calm, letting it crumble into the water and did your best to take shaky, slow breaths.

You stood in the shower for so long, you didn't know how much time had passed. You didn't hear the door to the bathroom open over the sound of the raging showerhead. You especially didn't expect to see the curtain rip itself open, Bradley's worried face taking over your vision. You jumped, doing your best to conceal your lady bits with a scowl

"Jesus, Bradley!" You stifled and turned your head back under the warm water attempting to conceal yourself.

Bradley was smarter in regards to you than he lead you to believe. He knew you better than you knew yourself. One sound of a choked, muffled sob from behind the door when he walked in the house was enough to worry him and seeing your puffy, red eyes and nose confirmed his fears. He didn't bother saying anything: he just gave you a knowing look, a weak smile and started stripping. His shirt, then his pants, then his briefs and suddenly, the shower was stacked with your six foot tall husband's fit frame.

His arms pulled you tight against his hard chest, his hands immediately going to smooth against your wet hair and shoulders. He put kiss after gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead around to the tops of your ears, being as gentle as he could. He let you rest with your head on his for a moment, breathing slowly for you to match his pace. Both of your eyes closed in the comfortable silence of the warm water.

You felt yourself trying to swallow the wave of creeping grief again in a lump. All of the love he was trying to give you was flooding the gaping, painful hole in your chest, doing battle to take its rightful place in your heart. It was too much emotion all at once.

"Easy, (y/n)," he whispers into your hair. "Take your time. I've got you. I always got you."

A few more moments passed before you opened your eyes. His own hazel ones were looking over your features to ensure you were alright. The calloused fingertips of his hands brushed against the crest of your cheek, wiping the translucent tears from under your eyes. He held your jaw gently, waiting for you to open up.

"You know th-the Bernese Mountain dog? The big one? The one that likes to fight?"

Bradley let the corner of his tips turn up. "Yeah, the one that likes to make your sore and makes me patch you up, right?"

"Yeah, Bono... He-- he died. In my arms." Your eyes watered, shoulders scrunching to your ears.

Bradley's face fell instantly. "Oh doll..."

You pull your head away finally, shaking it side to side as new, hot tears flow. Your hands drift up to your face to hide yourself from him.

"I had to call his mom, and she started crying and I started crying and we all started crying, it was awful! I helped carry him to the car and he was just so still and it was just-- just so unlike him! I was expecting him to jump up and start wrestling with me, but he never did! A-and then, I wrapped him up in his little blankie a-and... and I shut the door and..."

Gasping sobs left you trembling as Bradley scooped you up again. He held you as the worst of it passed by, your arms linking around his neck to cry in his shoulder.

He didn't know what to say. You were the most empathetic, compassionate, caring person that he knew. You gave your heart to your field to make sure that your patients and their families always had the closure and care that they needed, even if it meant your own personal sanity was at risk. Nothing in your job mattered more to you than the connections you made and having one of the strongest bonds just severed so suddenly...

Bradley's heart squelched in his chest as he rested his cheek to the top of your head. All of the strength was seemingly gone from your body as you clung to him, desperate for something to ground you.

Bradley shifted the water off and picked you up gingerly to place you on top of the closed toilet. He grabbed the fluffiest towel he could find and wrapped it around you and silently flipped your hair into its drying wrap. He grabbed a ratty towel for himself and swung it around his hips before pulling you to his chest to carry you to your shared room.

You had already placed a robe on top of the comforter and he helped you pillow yourself into it. Your eyes were barely open. The only thing still denoting consciousness was your slumped posture and the renegade sniffles that would attempt to escape your blocked airways.

"Oh baby, come here," he muttered, sliding into his side of the bed with his arms open. You rolled to put your head on his chest, your right hand resting over the top of his heart, feeling the vibrant thump thump thump against your skin.

"I'm sorry about Bono, (y/n). I know nothing I can ever say will ever make that loss any easier right now." He whispered the words into the top of your head, leaving a kiss at your hairline. "But I want you to remember that you did everything you could for him. Everything. I know that deep in his heart, he knew how much you loved him and how much you cared for him. You loved him so much, you made him feel safe: safe enough to just let go."

Your chest was tight at his words as you fought the urge to sob again. Bono loved you. And now he won't ever love you again. "I tried. I tried so hard to get him to stay-- h-he just..."

"I know, baby, I know. You didn't stop until you exhausted all reserves," he said, lifting your chin to face him. "You're the most incredible woman I know, you know that? I can imagine just how grateful his parents were knowing that you were there with their boy when they couldn't be. To know that he was loved, pain free, and with someone who loved him with their whole heart."

When you thought you couldn't cry anymore, salt pricked at the corners of your eyes as you moved to latch a kiss to Bradley's lips. It was pained and grieving, but grateful. He let his large hand wrap behind your shoulder, tugging you close as he returned the kiss before gently separating from you. He tucked a stray, fallen strand of hair from your towel behind your ear.

"You know what? I've learned a thing or two about loss being on the water as long as I have," he started. "And not to change the topic, but this Navy man really hates the ocean. You know why?"

You shook your head no.

"Because, unlike the sky, the ocean ebbs and flows with no consistency to it. One moment it can be calm, another moment it can be so overwhelming, you feel like you're going to drown. Kind of like grief."

A pained expression crossed his eyes in a flash before it blinked itself away. You could see the image of his mother and father crossing his eye in that tiny moment. "The ocean can still be beautiful, though. We just need to learn how to swim and it makes things just a bit easier to navigate. We can just float in it and let all of our worries and hurt wash themselves away."

"You make it sound so easy," you muttered, wiping the salt from your cheeks with the back of your hand. "What if you don't know how to swim."

"Then you get a boat. A good boat. One with a sturdy foundation and well crafted sails to take you to land." Bradley touched his forehead to yours. "You're one of my boats, (y/n): the best one in the fleet and my pride and joy!"

"And who exactly is in your fleet, Mr. Bradshaw?" A small sparkle twinkled in the side of your eye, curling Bradley's lip in the corner

"Well, there's you, of course. Mav's been recently rechristened, Phoenix's got a dock spot, Mom and Dad even though they aren't here anymore... just thinking about them calms the swells sometimes, although sometimes it just makes it worse, I won't lie." He drifts for a moment pondering before cracking a laugh at his thought. "Hell, I think even Hangman has a ship on my dock, too, the more I think about it."

A giggle escaped your lips, imagining perfectly cocky Jake captaining a vessel. Their friendship had blossomed and seeing Rooster take to Jake so well after their mission brought a wave of warmth to you knowing that your husband would be safe in the skies with his friends near by. It made his deployments go by a bit easier.

"But honey, the one thing that helps me the most when I'm navigating my grief and my sadness is knowing that you would be the first one to bring me home safe. No matter how treacherous the waters are, no matter how horrible the winds, you would be able to take me home, even if your hands were bleeding."

His gaze drifted down to you, his fingers tugging you tighter to him. "What you're in right now is an ocean of grief, (y/n). You've forgotten how to swim; how to navigate everything in your sadness. But I don't want you to worry: I'll be your boat, too. You can rest and I'll make sure you get back to land safely. I won't let you drown. I'll show you the way home."

Your eyes drifted closed during his monologue and at the sound of his heart thrumming. Before you knew it, Rooster's gentle hums of a nameless, lost tune reminded you of peace.

Your sea was calm.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfiction #rooster x reader #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw

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