#I would literally never leave the bed if Elvis was holding me like this

[doll-elvis]

I’m rewatching some of the movies made about Elvis and I completely forgot about the one that Linda Thompson made in 1981 called “Elvis and the Beauty Queen”

but anyways- could y’all imagine laying in bed with Elvis like this, I need it so badly 😭

[allbark-no-bite]

Meet Me In the Middle || Elvis Presley x reader

summary: it is all too easy to give and take when the lines of platonic love become blurred. or in which you’ll alway be Elvis’ little girl

warnings: 18+, sexual content, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, the usual swearing

word count: 5k

author’s note: low key I’m really proud of this one. thank you all for the love and support i received on my last fic <33 i literally have so many elvis ideas but not enough time to write them. would y’all want some shorter fics too?

—

Summer was sharing sweet orange slices from the farmers market and the sticky juice that trailed down our arms. Summer was playing tag in the front yard, tousling like rabbits in the the green grass. Summer was late nights spent listening to records together on my full sized bed.

Summer was Elvis. Until it wasn't.

One late night in 1957, summer became the three month notice of a court ordered draft. Summer became the worst three months of my entire life.

—

"You're not actually gonna go though, right, El?" I'm standing at the bottom of the stair case, feet cemented to the last step as I wait for his reply.

Elvis and his mama and daddy all look up at me from where they're gathered in the living room. He drops the hand holding the paper to his side, as if hiding it from my sight would erase it from my mind. Uncomfortably, he clears his throat.

I swivel my head, looking from his mama and then back to Elvis. No one moves to speak, and I break the building tension again as I realize what their silence means. "Elvis!"

He sighs, lifting his hand to rub his brow. "I've got to go, darlin’. I can't—"

I stomp my foot against the wooden staircase and it makes a loud thud that echos through the house. "Tell them you can't! You can't go—you can't leave us!"

Obviously becoming frustrated, Elvis takes a few steps towards the stairwell, waving his draft notice at me. "I've got no choice, alright? It's that or they fucking arrest me!"

"UGH!" I screech, turning on my heels and stomping up the stairs. It's childish of me but had I stayed planted there any longer, the tears burning in the back of my eyes would have made their appearance, and I don’t want him to see me cry.

Elvis shouts after me. "C'mon, really, [y/n]? You're gonna cry? Get back down here!"

I stomp louder, ignoring him, and storm into my room. I slam the door once I'm inside. Elvis hated it when I slammed doors. Once I reach my bed, I rip the sheets off of it and then clamp them shut around me. Only then do I allow the burning tears to start down my face.

Germany. He was going to Germany. Out of the millions of people in the world, what were the odds that they pulled his name. Apparently pretty damn good. What was he thinking? Elvis couldn't fight in a war. Surely the Colonel would have something to say about this. As much as I hated my stepdad, I was certain this was something we could agree on.

My mama had married young. It was a fairytale story in which she'd fallen madly in love with my daddy her senior year of high school and dropped out to marry him then and there. My daddy had been dealt a good set of cards by his own father and was a very successful lawyer down in New Orleans. He died of a heart attack when I was five, leaving my momma his entire inheritance. A few years later, she married a Mr. Colonel Tom Parker. My momma was beautiful, but he had married her for the money. He proved my point by divorcing her two years later, leaving me stuck between two homes.

I loathed the summers that I would be sent to spend with my stepdad. He'd never done ill to me, but again I had little reason to like him either. He tolerated me for three months of the year as his form of child support, and I spent weeks dreading following him and his little circus act around for the sake of 'show business'. That was until I met his up and coming act Elvis Presley.

Once Elvis blew up, the Colonel finally set aside his circus life and moved us to Graceland to focus on the young star full time. Suddenly, I found myself looking forward to leaving behind my mother's beautiful Louisiana estate and spending more and more time in Memphis, Tennessee.

But if I had ever learned anything about my stepfather, it was that he would do anything for the sake of business. Which is why instead of shutting down Elvis' ridiculous notion that he was going to enlist in the army, he encouraged it, hoping to make him some sort of all American hero or whatever he called it.

We throw Elvis a going away party the night before he ships off for Germany. I refuse to attend, spending the evening moping in my bedroom. The happy chatter and music coming from downstairs only serve to worsen my mood.

I wish everyone would just go home so I could sulk in peace.

I kick off the shoes I had worn for the evening and sit with my legs crossed a top my bed. A tattered flannel dog sits where I had left it on my pillow last night, and I pick it up, realizing I had forgotten to put it away.

Elvis had given me the plush dog at the end of the first summer I spent at Graceland. Something to remember him by back home, he had said. For a long time, I never went anywhere without it. But I'd eventually forgotten about the dog and didn't touch it for years. I'd started carrying it around again now that he was leaving.

Knuckles rap softly at my door, but before I can even stand up to answer it, Elvis is pushing the door open and stepping hesitantly into my bedroom.

I glare at him, dropping the flannel stuffed animal to the ground. "I didn't say you could come in."

He ignores my harsh rebuke and crouches down to retrieve the stuffed dog. Methodically, as if lost in a memory, he turns the plush toy over in his hands. I watch as his fingers muse with the soft flannel of the dog's ear. Standing up, he slowly walks towards the bed. "I don't wanna fight tonight."

I turn my head. Between his freshly cut hair and crisp uniform, it's all too much.

The bed dips underneath me, and Elvis places the toy in my lap. "I haven't seen this thing in a while," he comments, prompting me in a futile attempt to get me to talk.

I just shrug, still not looking directly at him. Because I can't tell him that I haven't slept without the stupid plush dog in months now. Can't tell him that because I don't want him to think I'm just some dumb little kid.

"C'mon," Elvis persists, a playful tone to his voice as he nudges his elbow into my side. "Don't go tellin' me you're too grown for that kinda stuff now, lil’ girl."

I set the dog off of my lap, as if wanting to remove it from view and out of the conversation.

"I'll be too grown by the time you're comin' home. Turnin' eighteen next year," I point out bitterly, reminding him that he's missing my birthday.

Elvis is quiet for a moment. "Eighteen don't mean all that much," he finally says. "You'll still be my lil’ girl."

His little girl. His dumb kid sister. It's all just the same, I think. That is all he will ever think of me.

I'd been counting down the days until I turned eighteen, waiting for that growth spurt, waiting for puberty to hit, waiting for the day that I could shake him awake and say, Look. Look at how much I've changed. I'm not your kid sister anymore. I don't want to be your kid sister anymore.

I'd always been his 'lil’ girl'. And for a long time that had been okay. I was fourteen when I permanently moved into Graceland. We were practically raised together. We were best friends and fought like brother and sister. But now that I was older, it was hard to see him like that anymore. He was still my best friend in the entire world, but I'd grown, and I understood a lot more than I did when I was fourteen. I noticed the sharpness of his face now, the childlike roundness gone. I noticed the new fullness of his body and how it balanced out his once lanky frame.

He'd become a man without me realizing it, and I desperately didn't want to be his little sister anymore. But now that he was leaving, none of it mattered. I'd grow up without him there to see it, and he'd move on, find some nice girl in Germany.

Elvis tilts his head, trying to smile at me, his soft pink lips pressed together. "I'll throw you a big party when I get back, yeah? Mama'll make you a cake, and we'll sing 'happy birthday' even if it's the middle of June."

I bite my lip and laugh, thinking about how ridiculous it would be because I know that he's being serious.

God, I'm gonna miss him.

"Two years isn't so long," my voice cracks, and I laugh through the sob as I finally turn towards him. "Right?"

Elvis smiles. "I'll be back before you know it."

—

The day Elvis came back was a cold day in Memphis, Tennessee. The warm weather of budding summer had yet to come, leaving us all bundled up in heavy coats as we waited amongst crowds and crowds of people at the train station. But then again, summers had never been quite the same since Elvis left two years ago.

Gladys held onto my elbow beside me, and I would point out in the direction of each new train that appeared. To my left was my boyfriend of six months. We had met due to some mutual friends and hit it off pretty quickly. He was no Elvis, and so I had been hesitant at first, but he was persistent in asking me out for weeks. I had finally relented, and he surprised me. He was good to me.

"Oh look!" Gladys exclaimed, patting my hand and drawing my attention back to the tracks. "That's him!"

A black train engine approached us, slowing down as it neared and stopped at the station in a whoosh of steam. After a bustle of excitement at the side of the loading dock, I caught a glimpse of his dark black hair. With the help of the conductor and a couple police officers, Elvis began to push his way through the crowd.

He greeted him mama first, hugged her tightly and unabashedly let her kiss his cheeks as he stooped to reach her. He'd grown a lot in two years. Next was his daddy, who's hand he shook firmly and then leaned in, clapping him on the back.

When he got to me, he hugged me like a big brother would do, slinging a heavy arm around my shoulders and drawing me into his side to place a smooched kiss to the top of my head. And then when he pulled away and caught sight of my boyfriend standing at my side, he hardened his blue eyes and squared his shoulders in that same big brotherly fashion, stiffly holding his hand out to shake. If he was angry with me—as he should have been—he didn't show it. I hadn't told him about my boyfriend, but I assumed Gladys had let him on about it.

Moving on after an awkwardly stiff handshake, Elvis greeted the Colonel as well as Sonny and Jerry, and then gathered his things. We went home and life went back normal, exactly as it was before Elvis had left. Everything went back to how it was. We laughed and joked and quarreled as we did before he left, and pretended to ignore the problem the presence of my boyfriend proposed.

For most, Elvis and I’d closeness would have likely torn apart any romantic relationships. We were too comfortable with each other to just be friends, and yet that’s what we where. That’s what we had to be. We took what we could get.

—

What I would have done had I not stumbled into the wall, likely waking up the entire house and causing Elvis to stick his head out of his bedroom door, I honestly don't know. I wouldn't have called him, I think to myself, because brothers aren't supposed to know that their little sister's in bed with a boy. But he's not my brother, and I don't have a choice because before the words leave my mouth, he's pulling me into his bedroom, shielding me from everything except for the view of his wide shoulders that are wedged between the doorframe.

My legs are shaking. My entire body is shaking. I'm lightheaded from crying and my chest burns from all the hyperventilating I was doing moments before. The insides of my legs tingle, and I realize it's because liquid is dripping down them. I don't want to know what color it is. Neither is good, I think.

Out in the hall, I can hear footsteps muffled against the carpeted floor. "[y/n] run off in there?"

Elvis steps further out of the door, still using his body to block me from view. "She got a reason to be runnin'?" His voice is dangerously monotone.

I hear the other voice scoff. He must be standing out in the hall, a safe distance from Elvis. "Look, I didn't do nothin' she didn't ask for."

Elvis looks back at me from over his shoulder, taking in my current state under his gaze. My face burns with shame and humiliation.

His eyeliner black eyes are steely, almost murderously calm. It's the look of someone who's about to kill a man. I know that he notices my lack of shorts and half unbuttoned night shirt because it's his. Stolen from Elvis long ago, it's just long enough to cover the curve of my ass and enough to hide the fact that I'm not even wearing panties. And maybe that is why he doesn't kill the boy on the other side of the door then and there.

"Get out of my goddamn house."

"I didn't—"

"Get out before I break your fucking face in," he snarls.

The noise is enough to stir Jerry, who pokes his head up the stairwell. Ever the peacekeeper, I hear his mellow voice float down the hall. "EP? Everything okay?"

Never breaking eye contact with the boy, Elvis' voice has returned to the chillingly quiet tone. "Get to stepping, pal," he growls. I can picture his face, white teeth bared into a menacing snarl like one of those dogs who's yard the postman stays away from.

There is a heavy pause in the conversation and then I hear loud footsteps descending the stairs. The front door slams shut.

The moment he retreats from the door, I'm clinging to him, grabbing at his soft satin shirt and hiccuping into his chest. His palm cradles the back of my head, hugging me into his body. His presence is comforting enough to stop my trembling, but when he pulls me away from his chest, another sob escapes my mouth.

"Please, you can't tell the Colonel, El." I reach for him again, just wanting to be held.

He holds my shoulder at arms length, worried blue eyes taking me in. "What happened, lil’ girl?"

Another sob rakes through my chest, tearing at my raw lungs and choking up my throat. My hand grabs at his shirt, desperate to hold on to him. "I thought I was ready. I really did." I'm swallowing spit as I talk, still trying to breathe and cry at the same time. "And then I couldn't— He wouldn't—"

Elvis' jaw hardens and he lets me push myself into his chest again, hushing my cries. "Okay, okay. It's okay, darlin'."

I hiccup into his shirt, pressing my cheek to his chest. The heavy thrum of his heart pounds against my ear. He's still breathing hard, holding me securely against him. "El, You can't—"

"I ain't gonna tell no one, lil’ girl, alright?" Elvis states firmly, as if to put my worries to an end once and for all.

"Hey." Elvis takes half a step backwards, doing his best to detach me from his body. I let out another halfhearted sob again, my eyes blurry and red from crying. "Hey—now, enough of that. Let's clean you up." His tone is firmer than I would have expected, but it works enough to sober me up.

I nod, emitting one last hiccup and dragging the backs of my hands over my eyes.

Walking into his bathroom, Elvis sits me down on the closed toilet seat and after running a wash rag under the warm sink water, crouches in front of me. Suddenly I'm in grade school again, waiting for him to clean my scraped knee because I never did know what was good for me.

"Gonna clean you up, 'kay, darlin'?" His tender blue eyes hold mine.

The wet clothe drips onto the ground and his finger tips ghost up my thigh, brushing aside the shirt bundled at my waist. I see his hands tremble, and he swallows as his eyes take in my bareness. He's realizing I'm not wearing panties. Elvis sniffs and squeezes my knee with one hand. Wordlessly, he brings the wash clothe softly between my thighs.

I twitch slightly at the sensation, wanting to mewl and push his hand away, but I remain still as he works. He won't look up at me as he tenderly drags the clothe between my legs, focused on ridding me of every memory of tonight.

It's a terribly strange experience, having someone who is so close to you care for you in such a compromising position. And yet there's a mutual understanding there that says, 'this is okay with me so long as it's okay with you'.

Finally, the feel of the clothe disappears, but Elvis remains crouched, his head between my knees. He's so close that I feel his breath on me.

I imagine his nose brushing my bare cunt.

The problem was that I was exactly the kind of pretty that he picked out in girls every weekend and sought out after shows, and we both knew it.

The problem was that I was his little girl who's boyfriends he ran off and runny nose he wiped.

He sighs and kisses the inside of each of my knees. "C'mon. Let's get you in the shower, lil’ girl." He sits back on his heels and stands up, tossing the red stained rag into the bin.

I watch from the toilet seat as he turns on the water for the shower that he doesn't even like. Elvis had a preference for baths and I knew because he alway requested a room with one wherever he stayed. The only reason he had a shower at Graceland was because it was easier to have sex in.

I knew this because I'd asked him one day as I laid sprawled across his mattress, flipping through a magazine. He was in the shower at the time, the door half ajar as he had left it, the steam of the shower spilling through the crack. His girlfriend had just left and he'd run upstairs, tossing his shirt on me as he went. He'd nearly had his jeans off before he even slipped through the bathroom door, and I'd caught a glimpse of his blue boxers.

A while after, as I listened to the spray of the water against the tiles, I'd asked him then and there, why he'd taken the room with the shower and given the other to Jerry.

"What?" he had asked distractedly, his voice raised so that I could hear him.

"How come you got a shower when you don't even like 'em?"

The spray of the shower head cut off and I could hear him moving around in the bathroom. Through the crack of the door, I could see his reflection in the mirror as he preened at his wet ebony hair.

"Just easier I recon. When you have a girl over, I mean."

Elvis was nearing the cusp of twenty himself and so the topic of sex was not new nor uncomfortable to him. Besides, I was just his kid sister.

I was sixteen at the time and had no real concept of what it meant to me when he brought girls over. I guess I knew that he never grew especially attached to any specific one, and they went out of his life just as quickly as they had come.

"Oh," was all that I had said afterwards, watching him as he walked out of the bathroom, his face flushed red, towel bunched in his hand. Instead of using it to dry off his hair, he tossed it into the laundry bin and grabbed a fresh one.

"Water's probably hot enough—," Elvis says, drawing me from my thoughts.

I tug at the rumpled collar of my—his—night shirt. "Will you..." I swallow away the knot in my throat. "Will you get in with me? I don't wanna..."

No. He's supposed to say no because someone's got to draw the line somewhere. We aren't kids anymore, no matter how desperately we both cling to the idea.

He pauses. "Yeah, sure, sweet thing."

I pull off the silky night shirt without a second thought. It was just Elvis and he'd probably seen me nearly naked a thousand times before. I can see him in the reflection of the mirror behind me, sliding off his own clothes and trying to avoid looking over in my direction. His is cock hard against his stomach.

"Go on," he says, ushering me into the shower, as though intent on pretending his body wasn't responding acutely to the situation. Elvis follows me in, his large frame taking up the bulk of the space.

Tangles of my wet hair falls in cascades down my shoulder. I let the stream pelt into my face, opening my mouth only to breathe and spitting out the water that enters. Rust tinged water swirls down the drain after running down my legs. A hiccup shakes my shoulders and more water flows into my mouth. I hadn't realized I was still crying.

Elvis' arms pull me into his chest, resting just under my breasts, and one hand slides up my throat, tipping my chin up so that I can breathe. "Hey." His bare skin feels foreign against my back. Forbidden in a sense. "Enough of that. Breathe, lil’ girl."

My head falls back limply against his shoulder, and I allow my eyes to close. The steady weight of Elvis' chin comes to rest in the joint of my neck and shoulder as he holds me close. One of his thumbs strokes the swell of my breast, just barley ghosting the bud of my nipple. Even in the hot shower, the action makes me shiver.

"I should have run him off after dinner. Shouldn't have boys around the house this late," he whispers softly.

"I'm grown now, Elvis," I remind him weakly. "I can do what I what."

"And you wanted him?"

I can feel the girth of his arousal against my back. He emits a small huff each time I move. Elvis runs a hand down my body, not stopping until his large fingers are splayed across the expanse of my stomach. His other hand still tweaks at my nipple, cupping the fullness of my breast in his palm.

It feels good enough to make my body feel like putty in his hands. I'd let those hands do anything to me.

"You know, you were the first boy to break my heart?" I say instead.

Elvis sighs heavily against my body, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of my belly. "You were too little, and I was grown," he says in his own way of answering me.

"And now?"

His hand slips from my stomach to slide around the curve of my ass, and he tips his head up to press his nose into my wet hair. "God, I hate the thought that his hands were on you. That he touched you."

I feel his puffy pink lips hover above the tender skin of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. His nose skims the shell of my ear, and he kisses the joint between my neck and shoulder. Elvis's hand travels back around my body, sinking lower lower, until his forefingers just barely ghost my bareness. I whimper as my sensitive cunt clenches around emptiness.

Elvis' mouth is hot against my ear. "Do you trust me?"

There are still faint smudges of dark mascara under my eyes, and I've only just stopped all the ragged, unsteady breathing. I’m still aching and tender. I think about how I didn't think twice about running into his arms, even if I was too ashamed to call for him myself. I'd trust him with my life.

I nod.

"Words. I need words."

I swallow, pressing my nose to the column of his throat. "I've always trusted you."

There's no tension between us as he rubs his fingers against my cunt, tenderly exploring the heat of me. There's no hurry as his fingers prod at my opening, feeling the tightness and resistance of my body. I reflexively push my hips into his hand when his thumb passes over my clit, sending jolts up my spine. The hand holding my body against him tightens, pulling me back into his chest, and he draws his hand away. His fingers spread and my arousal, tinged with red, clings between them. The spray of water slowly washes the color away.

I can feel his silent anger in every breath, how it stalls and then releases. It's evident in the way his body moves around me. "He didn't do nothin' wrong," I whisper timidly. "Just—it was too late by the time I realized I didn't want it to be him."

Elvis stills behind me, and his hand comes up to crane my chin around to look at him. His hooded blue eyes are questioning. "He didn't—"

I sniff embarrassedly, a broken huff of a laugh coming out of my mouth. "Pop my cherry? Not necessarily."

As if soaking in my words, Elvis observes my face, thumbing my bottom lip thoughtfully. Then he dips his head down, capturing my lips with his. His mouth is hot and he licks into my mouth. For a moment, I'm painfully conscious of my youth and the years of experience that he has on me. It's obvious that he's done this before, kissed a lot of girls before me. However, I could get drunk on his taste alone, and I go with it, building confidence as he groans into my mouth.

"Want you to do it, El." His large hands feel up and down my body, and he groans again.

"Yeah?" he asks breathily.

"Yeah."

I nearly stumble as he moves us together as one unit, and my back hits the cold wall of the shower. His body is on mine immediately, and I chase his lips, desperate to taste him again. Our mouths connect, consuming each other, savoring the taste.

A gasp escapes my mouth at the sensation of his fingers prodding at my entrance, but he swallows it, pushing in one finger and then adding another. It's uncomfortable at first, and I squirm at the stretch, but then he's curling his fingers and petting at my velvet walls and my vision swims. My eyes must literally roll into the back of my head because he laughs at me.

"That feel good, lil’ girl?" Elvis hums.

It does but it's not what I want.

My attention goes back to his cock, which still sprung alertly against his abdomen, except now it's a flushed red. The head engorged and swollen, begs to be touched, and when I do, it's Elvis' turn for his eyes to roll into the back of his head. I don't know what I'm doing, and he must realize that because he slides his fingers out of me and cradles my jaw, his other hand wrapping around my fist. With his large hand over mine, Elvis drags my hand rhythmically over his cock. I take a guess and drag my thumb over the tip. His hips buck into my fist.

"So good, sweet girl," he rasps in that throaty southern drawl. After stroking himself a while longer, Elvis pulls my hand away from his cock and instead interlocks our fingers above my head.

His eyes find mine, panting heavily in the sliver of space between us.  "I'll be gentle," he promises, and then he's pushing in, the head of his cock pressing deep inside me.

With the slick of my arousal, the stretch is bearable, and quickly turns in to pleasure when he rocks his hips slowly into me. I can feel him hot and full within me. His second thrust is more fluid than the last one, pulling out and then sliding back in one motion. Above my head, my hand squeezes his and he reciprocates the gesture. I keen into his shoulder, biting down each time he drags deliciously in and out of me.

"Doin' so good for me," Elvis praises, kissing my cheeks and neck and lips over and over again. His next thrust has my stomach coiling, bubbling with hot pleasure. When he leans in to kiss me once more, he capture my bottom lip between his teeth and then releases it, leaning in again to kiss the swollen flesh.

"El—" I can hardly utter a coherent sentence. "I'm—" I can feel myself slipping, my mind fogging up.

"It's okay, I've got you. Let go, lil' girl. You can let go."

It feels like a rubber band pops in my stomach, and I moan, clenching around him as I come. Soon Elvis is releasing inside of me as well, claiming my walls with his seed. When he pulls out, I whine at the feeling of emptiness.

Elvis is still pressed into me, as if our bodies have become one entity. His release runs down my legs and pools on the tiles of the shower. Exhausted, I collapse into him. We’re both spent, chests heaving, legs shaking.

He laughs, pecking my swollen lips. "Looks like you need another shower."

[mooodyblue]

What do you think elvis would do for his girlfriend who lost a parent?

For example, if she stopped eating and drinking water and when he would offer her something, she says she doesn't want anything, etc.

I lost my dad, and I've been dealing with depression and grief, I've lost weight from it because I've been eating less and not wanting to leave my bed.

And I really need some elvis comfort, I wish he was here to take care of me because I just feel so heartbroken 🖤

If you could make a drabble or headcanon of something like this, it would help me feel a little bit better.

Thank you ❤️

so sorry for your loss! hope this comforts you a little bit 💞

elvis presley h.cs | comforting you through the loss of a parent

cw: parent loss.

-> masterlist

elvis knows exactly what it's like to lose a parent, he knows it's something you never truly get over.

when you first break the news to him, he softens up and doesn't say a word, just taking you in for a huge hug.

he lets you cry on his shoulder for as long as you need to. rubs your back gently and never lets you go

after awhile, he notices how closed off you started to get and how low your energy levels had suddenly dropped and it just breaks his heart.

he knows there's not much he can do to take away the pain of losing a parent, but if he can give you any sort of relief to it—he will definitely do so.

if you're unable to get out of bed, he'll join you.

if he notices you haven't had any water lately, he tries to get you to sit up and take a few sips.

"that's it, just a few sips–there we go. i'm so proud of you, baby. i know that was hard."

he does that multiple times during the day if he has to

when it comes to getting you to eat, he tries to not push you too much—but he wants you to try.

"just a few bites. you ain't gotta eat it all, honey. just a few bites."

he will literally do anything to get you to eat, even if you refuse it.

praises you for just getting up out of bed, always saying how proud he was of you and that he knows that your parent is proud of you too.

"i know you're hurtin' baby, but i don't think they'd want you mopin' around all day. i know it's hard, lil', i know."

he'll offer to help wash your hair or anything else you need done.

lets you cry as much as you need to. loves hearing stories about your parent or loved one, always listening well

he knows you're trying your best. he wants you to grieve as long as you need to, but he also tries to coax you out of bed little by little.

but he will always curl up in bed just holding you, especially when you need it the most.

[fangirlstuff]

Hello!✨

Feel free to delete. Swan Song by Lana Del Rey for Austin Butler. Kinda gives me Austin vibes as Elvis but can work just for Austin.

Thank you for your time!💟❤️💙💜

Swan Song

Summary: This is a story based off of the vibe and lyrics of Swan Song by Lana Del Rey. In the story, Austin and his datefriend can’t handle the fame and move away from it all.

Pairing: Austin Butler X Reader (third person, no y/n)

Word Count: literally 605, I’m so sorry

Warnings: angst and fluff!! Nothing bad :)

AN: I hate this. But I want it out there anyway lol. It’s also pretty much unedited, so if I made a mistake, no I didn’t.

But there was Austin, smiling, waving, eyes bright. Like he meant it. Like it was made for him to do.

They tried to act like they didn’t hate it, at least for the cameras. For the fans. They couldn’t let them down, they wanted content, and they would get it.

But in their bedroom, when the moon was the only light they had, they let it all out for Austin to hear. They were tired of the lights, of the people. Of everything, really. They couldn’t stand to be under the burning weight of the world anymore.

And he understood. He held them and told them so. He faked it well, he knew that, but it was just that; fake. He didn’t want it either, but it was old now. Manageable. He was used to it.

But it was hardly manageable. They watched him struggle day after day, they saw the mountain of planners and rainbows of different highlighter colors on the pages, and they nearly threw up every time they saw the amount of things they’d have to do that day.

It was their fault, really- they chose to get married and go through this together. But back two years ago, when Austin went away to film Elvis, they had never expected him to return followed by swarms of paparazzi.

Lying in bed, on another night just like the one before, and the one before, when their eyes were weights and their bones heavy, Austin hugged them.

“I can’t do this anymore, baby.” He whispered into the top of their head. They backed up to give him more room to speak, but he held them close anyway. “The cameras, the fans. They’re so much. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Then we can get out of it.”

“I can’t, I can’t ever leave. They’ll miss me, they’ll wonder where I’ve gone.”

“You don’t owe them anything.” They said plainly. And it hit Austin all at once, like a punch to the gut, that they were right. “You’ve left them more than they could ever wish for. You left them a story about the King, and you left them yourself.”

He nodded. He felt the tears coming on, his throat burned. He swallowed them down, but it didn’t do anything.

“Right. Yeah. I’ll tell my agent to cancel everything.” He wiped his cheeks, but it didn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Hey,” they backed up and looked at him, setting their hands against his cheeks to stop the tears from falling. “We’ll be okay, alright? We’ll find a house somewhere and we can start again. Without all of them. Just us.”

He nodded, holding their wrists. “That sounds good.” He whispered.

That promise made beneath the shadows, a year ago, freed them both. They didn’t recognize the falling smiles from each other until it was all that was hanging from their walls. And they got out almost the next day- making two calls, one per agent- and booking a flight to the middle of nowhere in Colorado.

Snowfall came early that year. They had a little cabin, their only company with each other. The town they lived in was a tight community, but the people recognized them both. It wasn’t quite home outside their door, but the space they made felt like theirs. Not the world’s, not the fans’, theirs.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Can you write a blurb where Peter (Maximoff) is a huge sucker for aftercare? I feel like he would clean the reader up while still showing affection and makes sure they’re safe and knows that he loves them with all his heart. (Peter fluff is my weakness 😩) tysm :)

Hey!!! Sorry for getting you so late 😭 I love this and I’m huge sucker for Peter fluff as well! And he so would, he’s a totally sweetheart like that. I hope you don’t mind that I did headcannons there was so much I wanted to include!!

Aftercare with Peter

- king of aftercare, rivaled only by Colin Zabel

- after you’ve finished absolutely wrecking him he may need a moment to recover, face red and eyes blown out as he comes down from his high.

- you’ll know he’s back when he cracks a little joke and goes from being your whinny mess that was begging you to fuck him to your regular mess of a boyfriend who gets all clingy and affectionate

- if he’s on top, when y’all finish he’d collapse onto you as you laugh and grumble about how he’s too heavy, but he’ll just go completely limp and laugh as you try and roll him off

- if he’s on the bottom, he’ll hold his arms out open and whine for you to come down and join him. He’ll pull you down, kissing your face with butterfly kisses as you do the same

- Peter always tries to make you feel as safe and loved as you make him feel when y’all are together

- he wants to return the favor by being extra affectionate and being your hype man to the point where it’s so cheesy and cringy but you love it.

- he’d be like “babe when you rode me I swear I saw literal stars. Literal stars, I’m pretty sure even some movie stars, I think James Dean was there and so was Elvis. But really I was on cloud nine, never felt so good in my life. Like your p-“

- your cut him off with a laugh, blushing at the vulgar words he was heading to.

- After a moment of cuddling he’d begrudgingly get up, making a show of how he doesn’t wanna leave you but he needs to get you cleaned up, he’d go get a warm wash cloth with water and run back to the bed. Jumping and nearly sending you both flying off

- he’d kiss all over your body as he cleaned away your combined sweat and fluids, tenderly cleaning between your legs as he softly kisses your thighs

- and you’d do the same, he’d be whining that he was supposed to be taking care of you. But he’d totally be preening, (because let’s face it he loves taking care of you both you both love him being pampered by you even more)

- then you would both just cuddle, mumbling sweet nothing before falling asleep in a tangled mess of limps. Feeling so safe and loved, and when you wake up you always know he’ll be there

[witlessficcer]

Drabble Before Bed

Flufftober 2021 -11- Love Notes

Love Notes

When Peggy finally decided to open her eyes, acknowledging that there would be no more sleep, she swept her arm across the bed and found that Natasha was not with her. As her long arm reached to the far side of the king bed, she felt the sharp, but light touch of paper as she pushed it over the edge. Furrowing her brow in perplexity, she pulled herself to the edge of the bed and leaned over to pick up the pale pink post-it note.

My hunka hunka burnin' love.

Emphasis on hunk.

Peggy rolled over on her back and brought the note close to read it again. There as a time when would have bristled at the objectification. Now, she smiled knowing that her Nat left her a love note. Laying there in back panties and nothing else, she pasted the note to the soft spot below her left collar bone.

Rising, she rounded the bed and notice another pink note stuck to her alarm clock.

I can't help falling love with you--'re

Boobies!

Peggy huffed as the took the note and stuck it in the opposite spot of the first. Natasha had never done anything like this before. It was...strange, but really exciting at the same time. Peggy left the bedroom and went to bathroom. Her eyes widened as she saw three notes of various pastel colors in the shape of a  triangle. There was another on the faucet and a final one laying in the sink. She took the first one.

A little less conversation, a little more action, please

Like last night. You were...WOW!

Peggy blushed at the memory of their acrobatics the night before. Next note:

Are you lonesome tonight?

There's an NAT app for that.

Peggy finally...FINALLY clued in to Natasha's theme. One of the many media icons Peggy had to learn about was Elvis Presley. In fact, she had become quite a fan of the man's music. She didn't go so far as buying dolls or dressing up (despite Nat's and Tony's encouragement) but she did have his entire album collection on vinyl. It was prize collection. Next Note:

Ain't nothing but a hound dog

er...HORN DOG for my big buff brunette

Peggy continue to paste the notes to her torso, covering once large breast and moving to the other. She wondered if Natasha was still here, but she was in no hurry to chase after her. At least not yet. She lifted the pale green note from the head of the facuet.

Love me tender

No joke here. I love to snuggle with you. Hold me?

Absolutely. Peggy felt the tremble in her chin and the moisture in her eyes

Picking up the final pale yellow note, she brought it her lips and kissed it, not knowing if it were the final one. Looking at it she notice that there was more writing on, smaller as well.

I just wanted you to know that:

You are always on my mind

When I think about you, I get

All Shook Up

I'm gonna run my fingers through your long black hair

Squeeze you tighter than a grizzly bear

Know why?

I'm stuck on you!

Peggy took a deep breath and tried not to let her emotions get the best of her. But maybe it wasn't a bad thing at all. Natasha was expressing herself in an entirely new way and it was beautiful. The brunette was sure that he redhead had no idea that the notes were literally stuck to her body. As she turned to leave the bathroom, she noticed another note on the back of the door.

Return to sender.

When Peggy exited the bathroom and walked down the hall, she found Nat leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee. It was a sight she loved, because her love was at east.

“Aren't you a sight?” Natasha said over the edge of the cup as she took a drink. “What happened?”

Peggy bounded into the kitchen, notes falling from her naked breast, and skillfully removed the cup from Nat's hand. Clasping her hands beneath her her lover's bottom, she picked the redhead yup and grinned like a fool.

“You happened. You old softy.”

I'm not the one who's old but I see what you mean,” Nat teased. “You realize it's hard not to look at those?”

“Go ahead,” Peggy replied, rolling her bright, love addled eyes.

Natasha looked but didn't linger, returning her gaze to the beautiful brown eyes before her. “I love you, Peggy. Not just today. Every day. Every morning when I wake up in your strong arms is a blessing.”

Peggy kissed her softly on the lips. “I love that you love me enough to write me notes. To use Elvis. I love that you know me.  I will hold you, Natasha. I won't ever let you go. I promise.”

Tag list: @ezikira

[slythraco]

Julian Albert - SFW ALPHABET

Author’s note: Took a break in my requests to write this ! Might do the NSFW version if you’d like it ! Let me know if you would like to see this with his other characters too 😉 have fun !

Masterlist

————————

A = Attraction (how do they show their attracted to you?)

Julian is not really the expressive type, always preferred to hide his feelings and emotions behind a wall of coldness and anger. So making you understand he likes you was quite a challenge for him. He started by complimenting you sometimes, which surprised you every time.

He would also help you with your work without you asking, then make it pass like a act of kindness because he’s in his ‘good day’ rather then assuming the real reason.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/why not?)

Yes ! Absolutely, Julian and you always talk about finding a family one day. Even if he’s scared of the idea of being a father, you’re always there to comfort him, knowing he would make an amazing father.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Julian is a sucker for cuddles, he just love feeling your body against his. Every time you’re not far away from each other (and in private) he just feel the need to take you in his arms. So when you’re both at work, he take a break just to meet you at your desk who is literally 2 meters away and give you a good hug before going back.

When you’re home, he loves to sit in bed, his back against the headboard, you between his legs while you read a book together. This position gives him room to kiss your neck and collarbones, but he can also touch your thighs or higher if he doesn’t feel like reading.

D = Dates (What are dates like with them?)

It’s all or nothing, he can either prepare the best night ever, Diner with candles, Sky gazing after a good meal, date in a gastronomic restaurant or just share a glass of whine at his home while dance to random musics. But you like these both ways of doing it. A good moment with Julian is always good to take.

E = Emotions (Do they express their emotions? If so, how?)

It was a big problem in the beginning of your relationship, the fact that he didn’t really open up to you to show his feelings. He was still protecting himself from getting hurt. But once he did it one time, and finally realises that you would never in any circonstances, judge him or leave him for what he truly feels. He became the most expressive person he’s ever been, he tells you everything that’s on his mind and it makes him very happy to have found someone to talk to about what’s going trough his mind. And you’re probably the only person that gets to see him like that.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love)

One day you got attacked by a meta-human, you got harmed a little bit but it was enough to make Julian scared and start freaking out. That’s when he realised how much he didn’t to lose you and how deeply in love he was.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Gentle in his gesture, yes. Gentle in his words, no. Hear me out. Julian is the most attentive person, the last thing he wants is to hurt so when he’s hugging you or kissing you, it’s gentle and full of his love.

But sometimes, when he gets angry or is in a bad mood he can get rude in his words or get violent. Careful, he could never lay a hand on you, he would breaks things around him rather then get physical to you. But yeah, be prepared he can get really rude to you but he will always regret what he said and always excuse himself until you forgive him but he would certainly blame himself for the rest of his life.

H = Hands (Do they hold hands? If so, how?)

Yes, everywhere, Julian is not really into PDA but if there’s one thing to steal from it it’s this. When you’re walking outside, arriving at work, sitting next to each other, he always find a way to grab your hand and it’s honestly, adorable.

I = Impression (What was their first impression of you?)

Being his colleague, Joe had to warned him of your your coming in the office. It kinda bored Julian at first, knowing he’d have to share his lab with another person annoyed him but as soon as he saw you, all his bad thinking flew away.

He found you really nice, intelligent and way more punctual than Allen. And also really beautiful, you blew him away by your intelligence also. He really thought you were too good to be true.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes, Julian is a really insecure person, he’s always scared of loosing you so when he sees you talking to another men he would almost always ask you about him afterwards.

If the person your talking to gets a little bit too touchy for his taste he would intervene and either call you by your affectionate nickname (my love, my heart, my darling,...) or he would kiss you to make it clear who you belong to.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who intiated the first kiss?)

His kisses are always gentle and full of love or passionate, he’s mostly the one to kiss you first just because he can’t contain himself when you’re around him. He could spend his whole life kissing your lips.

L = Love language (What are their love languages?)

Gifts, gifts, gifts. He loves to cover you with gifts. He likes to buy you little things that remind him of you. That’s his way of telling you he loves you.

M = Mornings (Are they a morning person? What are they like in the morning?)

It depends, on day work, since Julian is very focused on punctuality he can gets pretty stressful in the morning. Running everywhere to be ready in time, and make sure he tie is perfect.

But I’m off days, he’s the biggest lazy guy in town. Mostly because he loves just to lay in bed and cuddle with you rather then get up and start the day.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil you? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Like I said before, Julian loves to buy you things so yes he spoils you A LOT ! And when you want him to buy you something, he can’t resist, always wanting to put a smile on your face.

O = Open (Do they say everything about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or overtime?)

Like mention before, It took a while to Julian to finally open up to you but as soon as he feels safe enough, he tells you everything !

P = Patience (Do they have patience? Are they angered easily?)

Julian has zero patience, he gets mad when he doesn’t have what he wants right now. It amuse you sometimes so you tease him with it but it’s is at your own risk.

Q = Quaint (What’s their favorite non modern thing to do?)

Julian as a disc record player in his appartement, he loves to listen to old vinyl with you. You learns to dance a slow with him thanks to it.

R = Remember (What’s their favorite moment in the relationship?)

It’s hard to choose but probably the day you accepted to be his girlfriend, it was such a magical day. He prepared a wonderful date that night, he made a whole delicious meal for you to to share together in his appartement. You slowed dance in his living-room and then his kisses you for the first time before asking you to be his after admitting his feeling to you. You spent the rest of the night cuddling and kissing like teenagers, it really is an amazing memory.

S = Security (How protective are they?)

He globally trust you so he’s not really overly protective, unless you propose you help to the flash team. Even more since you got attacked by a meta not long ago, this is the only time he can get really protective.

Otherwise he’s just normally protective, telling you to be careful when you come back late from work, etc. But it’s always in a cute and loving way never toxic or anything, he just cares about your safety like any boyfriend would.

T = Talking (what do they like to talk about?)

Obviously, sciences and all of that, but he also loves to talk about you, he always want to know more about you, your past, your family. Every little knew information about you makes him really happy.

U = Ugly (Whats a bad habit of theirs?)

Criticising EVERYTHING and everyone. That’s one of us default he always finds someone to say about something (especially Barry Allen), he can be either funny because we all know how sassy Julian is but it can be annoying sometimes.

V = Vaunt (Do they like to show you off?)

Yes ! He’s always so happy to present you as his girlfriend. He’s so proud to have you by his side. The worst thing is when someone goes to him and say ‘No way, you’re really dating Y/N’ with that, you’re stuck with him for an eternity, he will be doomed to hear him boast of having a wife as brilliant as you.

W = Whole (Do they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely, Julian would be lost without you. You’re his everything, all he does is to make you happy so yes.

X = Xylophone (What’s a song that reminds of your guy’s relationship?)

Can’t help falling in love - Elvis Presley

You two danced to this song the night he kissed you for the first time.

Y = Yuck (What’s something they hate that you do?)

Teasing him, you love to make him crazy and angry because let’s face it, Julian angry is the sexiest thing ever.

Z = Zzz (Are they a heavy or a light sleeper ?)

Heavy sleeper for sure, when he finally leaves work and get to bed, you never hear about him again before he wakes up the next day.

[mattdillon-enthusiast]

i have no idea how to use tumble at all, i literally use it to look at the outsiders incorrect quotes but uh i thought i’d post a fanfic i wrote for my oc, arabella and dallas so enjoy.

Title: Death Pact - Dallas Winston One Shot

Warnings: Death, Suicide and Mentions Of Abuse

Word Count: 2,189

Everything went in slow motion as Dallas raised his unloaded heater, an idiot that kid was, they don’t know he’s bluffing. As the bullets from the surrounding police officers made their impact, memories of the years spent by Dallas’ side flashed before my very eyes, years of love, adoration, thrills, adventures and memories all gone within the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, you, Johnny and Ponyboy are all seen as hero’s now” I spoke, walking over to sit on the side of his hospital bed looking over at Tim for a moment before looking back at Dallas. Dallas looked annoyed hearing himself being called a hero, he muttered a few incoherent things under his breath, most likely curses on how he was anything but a hero.

“Any word on when they are going to let you out?” Tim asked, thinking of tonight being the rumble, meaning he needed any man he could get his hands on. Dallas was surely one of the best he’d be able to get.

Dallas sighed, shaking his head as he lowered his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing this would disappoint Tim and I, just in different ways. “Suck’s about the rumble, Man.”

Dallas and I both cared about Johnny a lot, Dallas more than me by a long shot. We saw so much of ourselves in him, but definitely more Dallas. I could only hope that Johnny would be okay… but hope wasn’t enough.

Merely a week ago, we were helping Johnny and Ponyboy go on the run. Couldn’t believe Johnny had actually done it at first, seeing the two walk into Dallas and I’s room at Buck’s Pony soaking wet, freezing I offered him one of Buck’s shirts we had laying around, Dallas gave him his brown jacket.

I checked one of our drawers for some cash, counted fifty and Dallas explained how to get to a hideout location. I handed the money to Johnny, “Should be enough for you to buy a week’s supply of food, when you get there you need to get food before your descriptions are put in the paper.”

Dallas got up from his potion on the bed and went to get his gun, his loaded one. He handed that to Johnny as well. “Don’t point it at me for Pete’s sake Johnny, it’s loaded!”

“Pony, do Darry and Sodapop know about this?” Dally asked as he took a seat on the bed again, pulling out a cancer stick and match using his Christoper to light it. He took a drag as Pony shook his head, “I’m not itching to be the one to tell them and get my head kicked in”

“Don’t tell them then” Ponyboy replied settling with the new shirt and jacket on.

That night neither Dallas nor I got much sleep, we laid in bed thinking, hoping that Johnny and Pony would be okay. We had sworn ourselves to secrecy, no one would know that night had happened the way it did other than the four of us.

Just over two months before that night, Dallas went to prison. “Yeah well, I don’t want to see him serving a sentence longer than a couple of days,” Dallas told me. We had been discussing him taking the blame for busting out the windows of the local high school, everyone knew Two-Bit had been the one to do it.

“But Dal, you know they aren’t going to give you a slap on the wrist this time around” I sighed.

“I can handle it, been in and out since I was ten, you know that Bella,” Dallas said, as he emptied his pockets, putting his heater in one of his drawers. “Plus, sounds like something they’d think I’d do. I’ll get hauled in soon enough, it’s easier to just turn myself in”

I walked over to him, putting my arms around his waist holding him. I always hated when he went to jail, normally I could find my own entertainment between visits but it was never the same without him. I always missed him. “You know the gang will keep you company if need be, Tim is always open to you spend the night at his.” He told me.

“Yeah, Yeah. I’ll miss you though” I replied as he turned to put his arms around me.

I know most wouldn’t look at Dallas and think ‘that man is romantic’, but he sure could be sometimes, I originally never thought he’d be one to plan dates months in advance. Sure took me by surprise the first time he put so much dedication into a night out. We were back in Tulsa for about six months at that point, he took me out for dinner at the Dingo which was common so I thought it be an average night out. We didn’t stay for milkshakes after which was odd because milkshakes were always how we ended the night. We headed out to Buck’s car which we had borrowed for the night and he took me on a drive.

Listening to Elvis on the radio as we drove around Tulsa, we spent the drive singing along to the radio, talking or just enjoying the moment until we pulled up at one of the nearby lakes, there was a picnic blanket set out with a basket. He’d paid one of the guys to set this up while we had gone to dinner. There were beers, strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate. God this man had my heart. The night was spent there before we went swimming which started out innocently enough, can’t say it ended that way.

I of course am Dallas’ partner in crime, I was a relatively well-behaved kid until Dallas and I moved to New York. We got ourselves into so much trouble, we were involved in a gang, got into gang fights often, robbed stores, and even got wrapped up in a murder cover-up.

“Bella, stay right there,” Dallas said, as he peaked out of an alleyway. We had stolen dinner from a gas station, we’d had to spend the last of our winnings from our latest gambling on rent, after a day and a half of not eating we had to result to stealing. The police had been called, stupidly enough, all we stole were chips and soda, quite the overreaction if you ask me. We took some alleyways on our way back, he was just checking for cop cars.

“Shit…” Dallas muttered. He turned back to me, “Back this way, we have to walk down to the next alleyway”

Before we even had the chance to move, we heard someone yell in our direction. There were two police officers calling out to us and walking in our direction. Dallas and I looked at each other for only a split second before we bolted down the alleyway. The dark alleyway echoed with our laughter as we did.

The officers were so caught off guard that they hadn’t reacted nearly as fast, so they trailed further behind them. The alley ahead of us split off into three directions, we had to think fast and had to split up. I went for the alley that would take me closer to our apartment while he took the one that would cause him to have to run around almost an entire block. We exchanged a glance that could only be interrupted as ‘be safe’.

I hadn’t been followed, both officers trailed Dallas allowing me to get back without any troubles. I couldn’t touch my food once I got back, not till I knew that he was okay. I sat on our mattress on the floor which my eyes on the door. Every apartment we owned was a room with a bathroom attached, never anything special we couldn’t afford anything bigger.

For an hour I waited for him to return, when he did he had a cut just above his eyebrow, bleeding down his face and a massive grin on his face. He almost gave me a heart attack, I think I lost years of natural life from that experience and many more similar.

There were so many memories of New York, we spent three years there and they were the best years of my life by far. From ages 13 to 16, I spent every day and night filled with the thrills of running away from home, gangs and falling madly in love with Dallas Winston.

I remember the night Dallas and I admitted being in love with one another. This was about a month into moving to New York, we had known each other for about seven months at this point. Dallas and I moved to New York two months after my mother’s death, we weren’t very close at that point and the only reason why I ran away was because I had a fight with my father, he pulled a gun on me. I turned to Dallas, knowing that I couldn’t hide with the Curtis’ they were too close with my father. He wanted to flee his own father, so that’s how we ended up in New York.

This particular night we had been out with friends, on our walk home it had started to rain so by the time we ended up soaked. We collapsed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling laughing about something I had said before we entered the room which really isn’t important to the moment. Dallas turned his head to face me, using his hand he turned me to face him.

“I don’t think I can hide this from you any longer, Arabella.” He said, we stared into each other’s eyes and for the first time I saw him nervous. “I love you, Bella.”

I almost couldn’t believe it. Dallas admitting his love for me, he returned the feelings that I had been so unsure of. “I love you too, Dally”

We laid there as moments passed, continuing the staring as the grins grew on our faces. He was the one to break the silence, the words that would impact the ending of the situation I currently find myself in.

“I propose… a death pact. I know right now I want to spend my time with nobody other than you and I never want you to be with anyone else.” Dallas said. He’d mentioned how the idea of marriage made him sick.

If this was anyone else, I would have laughed in their face and told them they were crazy. But.. I was also not in the best state of mind. Dallas was the only person keeping me here, after my mother’s death and my father becoming the way he was my only stability was him and if he was to go, I’d want to follow. “Let’s do it”

“If you die, I’ll kill myself... If I die… you do the same” Dallas said drawing out the only real rule.

Bringing me back to now, after witnessing Johnny’s death at the hospital after the rumble Dallas broke. Johnny was gone, and everything came crumbling down for him. He ran out before I could stop him leaving Pony and I to walk back to the Curtis’ to share the awful news. We had been back for only a few minutes before Dallas called, and once Darry told us we bolted from the park. I ran as fast as my feet would carry me.

“Dallas!” I yelled seeing him running, he stopped in his tracks under a street lamp. I swear I saw him look at me as he raised his unloaded heater. A fool, that’s what my love was, a blasted fool. The officers didn’t know his bluff, shots fired and Dallas fell. He was gone before we could even make it to him.

Darry was yelling, something about Dallas just being a kid. Most couldn’t control the tears that raised in their eyes or the sobs that left their mouths as we neared his body. Every memory with Dallas from this moment backwards went through my mind in a flash. Suddenly Dallas’ voice filled my head, ‘If you die, I’ll kill myself... If I die… you do the same’’. I had to honour the pact.

Tears fell down my cheeks and I choked out sobs. I turned to Darry and then to Pony, “I’m so sorry.. But I promised Dallas” I said.

I grabbed Dallas’ heater took a few steps forwards, before raising the heater at the nearest officer. It didn’t hurt when I was shot, it felt like I’d had a pebble thrown at me but I assume that was just because of the shock. I fell to the ground and the last thing I heard was Pony’s voice.

“Not Bella too”

[chilling-seavey]

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Two

A/N The song for this chapter is Don’t by Elvis but Stay by Why Don’t We also hit different for this chapter

Daniel didn’t see Loretta for three days. She didn’t show up to the diner and never came past the car shop either. Corbyn still showed up for work but Daniel would be damned it he asked Corbyn about her whereabouts; especially when Corbyn would glare daggers at him every time they so much as looked in each others general direction. Daniel tried to ask Christian if Corbyn had said anything to him but apparently all Corbyn had said was that Loretta was ‘busy’.

That only made Daniel more anxious. Should he call her to check in? Drop by her house even? He didn’t know what he should do or what was considered crossing a line or what was not doing enough.

He just didn’t know where they stood.

After work on the fourth day after the concert with radio silence on Loretta’s end, Daniel decided to head down to the beach. He had gotten off early and expected Zach and Jack to be there too, hopefully to take his mind of everything he was stewing over. Sure enough, his friends were in their usual spot on the sand, just coming in from a surf and both soaked in sea water. Daniel was still in his work uniform with his bag over one shoulder housing his swimsuit.

“Hey.” Jack called out breathlessly, holding his hand out to share a secret handshake with his best friend and Zach did the same.

“Hey. How’s the water?” Daniel asked, dropping his dry surfboard on the sand next to their things.

“Pretty good today. You coming out?” Jack asked, pushing his wet hair back from his face.

“Yeah. I’m just going to change and I’ll be back.”

Zach called after him as he walked away, “Hurry! It’s almost sundown!”

Daniel shifted into a bit of a jog across the sand towards the beach washrooms, his backpack still slung over one shoulder and he pulled it around his side to reach into it and fish around for his swimsuit as he turned the corner towards the men’s room.

It was straight out of some cheesy movie; literally running right into Loretta as he turned the corner around the side of the washroom building and they both gasped in surprise before even processing who was standing in front of them.

“Lori.” Daniel breathed, as if he was completely in disbelief.

Loretta opened her mouth to say something but she shut it and simply offered him a tight smile. She was wearing a yellow polka dot bathing suit with a white towel draped over her shoulder and her brown hair was still curled just as perfectly over her shoulders.

“I-I’ve been wondering where you’ve been.” Daniel said gently, keeping his eyes on her while she stared at the boardwalk below their bare feet. “You haven’t been into the diner recently or the shop. Where have you been?”

Loretta nearly winced at his words and she looked out over the beach.

“Lori.” Daniel said softly, trying to reach for her but she stepped back from him, raising her hands away.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” she mumbled and started to walk past him.

“Hey, hey.” Daniel side stepped her to cut her off. “Talk to me. We left things a little heavy and we should figure that out.”

Loretta kept her head down; not even daring to look at him.

“Loretta.” Daniel said seriously. “What’s going on?”

She scoffed lightly as if what she was about to say didn’t matter much, “Corbyn doesn’t want me to be around you anymore.”

Daniel’s heart sank but his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “But that’s…that’s ridiculous. Did you tell him about-”

“No.” Loretta cut him off. “I’m not going to.”

“Wha-” Daniel stepped in front of her when she tried to walk around him again. “That’s not…that’s not fair.”

“I can’t talk to you, Daniel, and we can’t see each other anymore. Please don’t make this difficult.” Loretta mumbled.

“Bullshit.” Daniel snapped, the seriousness in his voice taking her – and even himself – by surprise.

She took a strong inhale and looked him in the eyes, “Corbyn is my boyfriend and I love him and that’s how it’s going to be. If he doesn’t want me to see you, then I need to respect that.”

“He can’t tell you what to do.”

“Yes, he can.” Loretta said softly.

She tried to step past him, but he cut her off again.

“Daniel.” she huffed.

“Break up with him.” Daniel said sternly.

“You have no right to tell me what I can or cannot do.” Loretta snapped, glaring angrily at him.

“But he does?” Daniel argued.

“He is my boyfriend.”

“And I am your soulmate!”

Loretta bowed her head through a small scoff and crossed her arms over her chest. She still wore his ring on the chain around her neck and it rose and fell with her heavy breathing, glinting in the bright sunlight. Daniel was starting to panic and his work uniform started to feel suffocating and not just because the later afternoon sun was beating down on them. He tugged at the collar for a moment before pushing his hand through his hair anxiously. Daniel bit his lip, waiting for her to change her mind. They were both silent for a few too many seconds.

“Lori-”

He was cut off by her friends calling her from farther down the beach, “Loretta! Come on, girl!”

She glanced over at them and then back at Daniel, “Just…stay away from me, please.”

He couldn’t get another word out before she was rushing off over the sand towards her friends and out of sight. Daniel didn’t even move for a moment, truly feeling like she had just jammed a dagger into his chest and twisted the blade. He stumbled back on the boardwalk a step and his bottom lip trembled, his head bowing as he scrunched his eyes closed and tried to take a stable inhale to compose himself.

Daniel stumbled his way back over the sand to his friends, a disbelieving haze on his mind; so much so that he didn’t even process Jack and Zach asking if he was okay. He simply gathered his board and his bag and tossed them a haphazard apology and a goodbye before heading back towards his car.

After four days of nearly love-drunk bliss from their amazing night out, Daniel felt like he had hit a brick wall. He drove home in perfect silence, not even turning on the radio. His feet carried him up the front steps of his house and inside and he kicked his sandy shoes off at the front door.

“Daniel! Look who’s here!” his mother called from the living room.

Daniel trudged down the hallway to find his eldest brother and his girlfriend sitting on the couch with the rest of the family around them. He could barely manage a half smile in greeting.

“Tyler finally proposed!” Anna gushed, grabbing Wendy’s wrist to show off her new ring to the youngest brother. Daniel’s jaw clenched.

“Come join us, son.” his father said.

“I don’t feel well so I think I’m going to turn in early.” Daniel mumbled. “Sorry.”

He didn’t wait for their replies before he was turning out of the living room and heading upstairs, unbuttoning his coveralls as he went. Daniel closed his bedroom door behind him and dropped his bag beside his desk before sitting on the side of his bed with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. His heart literally ached in his chest to the point where it felt like he was going to be sick and the flavour of strawberry milkshakes that surfaced on his tongue only pushed him over the edge to let out a small sob into his hands.

He had his dream in the palm of his hand and he just couldn’t stop her from slipping right through his fingers.

His entire family was downstairs, but Daniel cried all alone in his room, his coveralls only unbuttoned to his waist to leave him in his white undershirt with the grey fabric pooled around his stomach. His fingers slid into the front of his hair and he tugged at the gelled back strands to try and distract the pain in his heart somewhere else.

The knock at his bedroom door startled him and he took in a loud shaky gasp in surprise. He wiped his cheeks and his eyes before answering with a strong, “Yeah.”

Both his older brothers stood in the doorway to his bedroom, staring at him with mirrored concerned expressions. They didn’t even have to say anything before Daniel’s bottom lip was trembling and his face scrunched up in pain and he burst into tears again. Christian came inside first and Tyler closed the door behind them and the older brothers sat on either side of their youngest brother and put their arms around his back.

Daniel curled right against Christian’s shoulder and cried into his shirt unashamedly; always the most sensitive of the three of them.

“What’s going on, Dani boy?” Tyler asked, rubbing his hand over Daniel’s back.

“I found her but…but she doesn’t want me.” Daniel sobbed.

“You found your soulmate?” Tyler gaped.

Daniel nodded, clinging on tighter to Christian. It was as if his heartbroken little brother melted the slight edge that Christian had built up over the previous year and he welcomed him into his arms gladly, more than happy to be his comfort once again.

“Who is she?” Christian asked softly.

“Loretta!” Daniel cried. “She t-told me and…but…but she doesn’t want me!”

“How can she not want you?” Tyler frowned.

Christian sighed deeply, “Because she already has a boyfriend.”

“He’s not even her soulmate! What am I supposed to do?” Daniel asked loudly, sitting up to look between his brothers. “I’m gonna be all alone my whole life knowing that she’s out there and not wanting to be anywhere near me!”

“She’ll come around.” Tyler assured him lightly. “You’re the perfect catch for any lucky bird and she’ll have to see it…if the universe doesn’t force her to.”

Daniel stuck his fingers in his mouth through his wracking sobs, trying to somehow scratch the taste of strawberry milkshakes off his tongue.

“Stop that; you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Tyler whispered, pulling his hand back.

“I don’t want to be like this anymore!” Daniel cried.

“Okay…okay. Hang tight.” Christian got up from the side of the bed to rush into the bathroom across the hall and poured a glass of water before returning and holding it out to Daniel. “Drink.”

Daniel, with shaking hands, took the glass and sipped the lukewarm water from it to try and wash down the waves of strawberry milkshake flavour that grazed his tongue, supported and cradled by his big brothers’ arms around his back. 

Christian sighed softly and pet Daniel’s hair back from his face and pulled him close again so his head was tucked under his chin. Christian and Tyler glanced at each other over their little brother’s head and exchanged flat glances. Daniel had been dreaming about finding his soulmate for years – his whole life nearly – and they knew it well; if only they could fix all his problems to give him that happiness he so craved and so deserved. 

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfiction. Chapter IV

Summary: Javier left one small detail about his partnership with the DEA, a insignificant one but that changes how Isa perceives this job and the risks he’s about to take. They spent the last weekend before he leaves in Laredo where they made many memories at the beginning of their relationship.

WC: 4,3k

Warnings: angst and many hurt feelings, miscommunication, swearing. NSFW +18 SMUT at the end of the chapter (fingering, male masturbation, p in v and a bit of sex talk but not that explicit)

A/N: Hi! this is chapter four and I think that I can wrap up this story in a few chapters more (4 maximum, at least that’s the plan) I literally based the whole end of the chapter on my first participation on #Writer Wednesday that you can read here and my love for Juan Luis Guerra. The song mentioned is “Burbujas de amor” I grew up dancing and listening to that tape while my mami cooked and later in my life I really paid attention to the lyrics discovering that well, it’s about sex 😅, still it’s a beautiful bachata and the hopeless romantic in me wishes that somebody (Javi Peña please) would dance it with me someday while being madly in love 💃❤

Listen and Lyrics here (there's a few verses translated by yours truly in the chapter)

Masterlist | Chapter 3⬅

Chapter IV: Small details

Isabel tries to focus on her daily routines like doing the chores; it’s easier than to think about anything else, she tries to keep going as if nothing is going to happen. But every time she looks at the door where Javi has left his luggage, she feels her stomach twisting. She’s desperate; thinking how she could make him stay: maybe she could lie, pretend that something has come up, but she dismisses those thoughts straight away, she must be overthinking, it’s just a week, she repeats herself but she cannot help feeling that something is wrong and that she should do anything to make him stay.

Javier plays with Elvira on the garden, the little girl screams and laughs out loud while her father tries to catch her; Isabel looks at them amused from the sliding door when the phone rings.

“Hello?” she answers

“Hi! It’s Steve, is Javi home?” a deep male voice she doesn’t recognize replies

“Yes, who is this again?” she actually has an idea. He, this Steve, it's the one that has convinced his husband to go, the one that called a thousand times during the night.

“Steve, I was your husband’s partner back in Colombia. You’re Isa, right?”

“Yes”

“Nice to meet you, well, through the phone at least” he chuckles

“Nice to meet you too”

“Javi has told me about you and, let me tell you, me and my wife, we’re dying to meet you”

“I’d love to say the same but he doesn’t share much about that time” she blurts out, she actually feels hurt, why did Javi tell him about her and nothing of the man calling to her, his wife? “Are you going with him to Mexico? You are the one that asked him?”

“Ask him? We didn’t...” Steve says confused “Yes, y-y-es, we’re going together” he coughs “Can you pass him the phone, please?”

“Yes”

Isa strides angrily towards the garden and calls for Javi to come inside. He stops immediately the games with Elvira and returns to the house with a curious look.

“Sí, amor?”

“The phone, it’s your friend Steve” she hisses

“Steve?”

“Jav...I think I might have fucked up talking to your wife”

The rest of the day is a symphony of Isa stumping through the house, slamming doors and grunts and curses slurred.

“She’s angry again” Elvi confides leaning on her father’s ear while their watching a movie after dinner

“Yeah, I think so too” fuck Steve and his big mouth

His wife is doing the dishes and if he wasn’t able to hear the water running, he would think she is actually destroying the whole kitchen rather than cleaning; she lays things unnecessarily loudly and the clack clack sound of the plates smashing against each other announces that she’s losing her cool and that she’s about to break some of them soon enough.

Crash

“Fuck!”

Eli gasps and cringes hearing her mum say a bad word for the first time.

“You keep watching, I’m going to see if she’s ok” Javi gets up and walks to the kitchen

She’s cleaning the thousand tiny pieces muttering a list of bad words in Spanish and English.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes” she says abruptly

“Clearly not, but...”

“Of course I am not” she starts shouting but she lowers her voice immediately knowing her kid can hear her “I’m about to lose my mind”

“Isa...” he approaches her but she backs away and stops him

“You forgot to tell me some small details, Javier” she accuses

“What details?”

“Why did your friend imply that they didn’t ask you to go?”

He sighs placing his hands on his hips

“I didn’t want you to...”

“Worry?” she interrupts “We’re passed that”

“Alright, I did offered my help” he confesses

“What kind of help?”

“I’ve told you. See what they got and testify when necessary about the information I found” he looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and he lowers his arms defeated “Can we please talk about this later...”

“You’re telling me that you are an informant, Javi?” Isa waits for his answer with her fists close tightly; her lips are a fine line now

“Yes, more or less” he sighs

“Javier... why did you put yourself at risk like that?” her voice is low and she closes her eyes before speaking trying to control what she’s about to say “You know what those people do to whoever dares to speak up?”

“Of course, I fucking know, Isa!” he screams and slams his hand on the table, making her flinch

Helena

Maritza

Carrillo

Even fucking Mr Pickle

The list of people Javi had seen die or their lives distroyed because they dare to face the Narcos or say something they shouldn’t have was long and his mind repeats those names again and again when he tries to forget about what happened in Colombia.

“What did you want me to do? Look the other way? Ignore it as everybody in that fucking stupid job? Let those people go?” his eyes glow with the white light on the kitchen. He never loses his temper; he’s actually pretty calm even when they’ve fought before. But in that moment, Isa see how his hands shake how his body tenses

“What I want it’s that you don’t want to comprise yourself, your health to something that isn’t your job anymore” she mutters

“Yeah, but guess what? It’s the only thing I know how to do and I’m actually good at it, not that stupid office job that kills me every fucking day”

“If you don’t like it you can change, Javi, nobody is holding you there” she suggests

“Nobody is holding me there? Well, we have to keep paying this fucking house don’t we?” he snarls

“It’s our fault then that you have accepted to put yourself in this position? that you always want to run away?” Isabel gawks. She’s about to say something else but Elvira’s cries and screams are loud now after she has listen to her parents fight, so Isabel storms out of the kitchen to her. The little girl is sitting on the couch trying to muffle her whimpers holding her unicorn.

“Mi cielo, ven aquí” (My love come here) she jumps to her mother’s arms and she shakes and sniffs “We’re going to bed, come on” Isa lifts her tiny body up and walks towards the stairs, she glares at Javi when he tries to reach for them and shakes her head.

Isabel comes to bed late and when he’s already there, in the dark, she undresses and takes her place on the right side without saying a word.

“Isa” he murmurs

Javier stretches his arm to reach her but as soon as she feels him, she moves away.

“C’mon Isa” he raises putting his weight on his elbow “Talk to me”

“I don’t want to talk”

“Then listen to me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed and say those things”

“Doesn’t matter how you said it if you think them, though” she counters still not turning to face him

“I don’t think them”

“Which part?”

“I don’t think you are responsible of me wanting to do this or that I’m bored and disgusted of my job”

“You’re doing it again”

“What?”

“Lying to yourself. You’re bored of your life I can understand that, I didn’t choose to be in this life either, but I have to accept it. And you’ll have to accept that the life you had back in the day can’t come back at least Elvi and I we don’t fit in it”

“Amor it’s not like that”

“Then stay”

“I can’t” he sighs

Isa stays quite and tense hugging the pillow and when he tries again to touch her, she gets up and strides outside the room

“I’m going to sleep with Elvi tonight”Javier raises to stop her but again she refuses his touch. Defeated, he throws himself on bed. Then stay, I wish it was that easy

They leave to Laredo the next morning to spend the weekend with Chucho before Javi crosses the border.

Isa responds with just “yes” or “no” to anything her husband says during the ride and focuses on distracting Elvira with music or playing with her Barbie dolls.

Her last sentence, the one she said the night before, burns in his brain.

You want your life back and we don't fit in it it makes his stomach turn, because deep down he knows it's true.

That hunger he feels, the thrive that hooks him to this job is a lingering ghost that whispers in his ear, a siren singing until he's about to drown.

----------------------------------------------------------

He remembers one night back in Colombia a few years ago. Gabriela under him, her soft skin glowing in sweat as he poured his frustration in her, she was sweet and always understood what he wanted, beautiful but with a sadness in her eyes, very common among the girls in the same job, and he had ask her why she didn't stop and she responded with the same question back to him.He didn't have an answer back then, and when he did stop, he was forced to because the system wouldn't allow him to do his job properly. His departure from the DEA was a bad break up; he didn't find closure no matter how many times he did say that he was through.

Chucho welcomes his family with tamales and cold beer. He lets Elvira roam around the chickens and the rest of the animals on the ranch before dinner. He's not naive and senses the tension between his son and daughter in law since they've gotten out of the car.

“¿Bueno qué te hizo este pendejo?” (what did this idiot do to you?) He asks to Isa while setting the table

“He's going to Mexico you know, with the DEA”

“What?”

“He's an informant now apparently”

“An informant”, Chucho thinks about that information and decides not to mention anything during dinner as he prefers to listen to his granddaughter stories. Once they're done and Elvi and Isa are cleaning the dishes he forces Javi out of the house.

“Isa told me you’re going to Mexico with the DEA”

“Just for a week, I'm helping them with something”

“You remember that day after you got back from Cali? In this same place”

“Yes”

“You told me you were through”

“And I'm, I'm just being useful. That information landed on my lap what was I supposed to do? Ignore it, pops?”

“You could just passed the tip and let them do it. When you got back from Cali I've found you here, every morning watching as the boats go up the river with los kilos, you were never through Javi, don't lie to me”

“You and Isa are just perfect for each other” Javi scoffs

“She worries about you, she loves you, mijo” he grabs his son’s arm

“I know”

“You're not the young man that left Laredo, Javi, nor the man that came back from Colombia, you're a dad now. And let me give you a piece of advice, out of experience, even if you think your father is annoying” Javi shakes his head “Parents always know, they know you and see you for what you are even when yourself is trying to deny it. You've been always like that, Javi, always trying to do the right thing even if it costs you your health and your heart and blaming yourself endlessly for the things you couldn't control”

Javi listens in silence, chewing hard on a nicorette.

“Now the right thing is not going after those Narcos, the right thing is to stay with your family”

Javi has his gaze fixed on the moon and stars that illuminates the river under them.

“But that's only this old man opinions, your family will wait for you here, we always do” he adds

­­­­­­

“So can we go? Please please” Elvira begs at the table

“Claro, mija” (Of course, love) His grandpa always spoiling her pinches her cheek before hers parents can answer “We’re going all of us together”

Javi and Isa look at him. Isa is still giving Javier the silent treatment and has being avoiding him even though Chucho forces everybody to share every meal on the leaving room and do the same activities together; even though Javi has tried to approach her many times a day, she finds ways to reject him.

“Papá...” Javi starts

“There’s no discussion, son. Mi nieta quiere ir a la feria y vamos a ir a la feria” (My granddaughter wants to go to the funfair and we’re going to the funfair”

“It could be fun” Isa agrees and gives a timid smile; it’s the most she’s spoken since they’ve arrived.

Laredo’s funfair takes place at the end of the summer and it’s practically the only activity for a lazy summer evening so the whole town is there. Isa watches as her daughter grins, her mouth already sticky thanks to the cotton candy she’s eating, and the sugar is starting to kick in, she’s jumping and screaming pulling her grandpa’s hand and the poor man follows trying not to fall down.

“Easy on abuelito, Elvi” Isa laughs

Isabel is beautiful tonight, like many years ago, she wears a sunflower summer dress and her dark curls clipped on both sides. Javi smiles, his mind wandering through the memories from the past when they were starting to know each other.

“You remember our first date?” he asks

“Yes” she nods “It was a pretty good date I think”

“Never thought we will be back to this funfair with our daughter years later”

“Me neither. And I think your father regrets now that he said yes to this” Isa motions to her right where Elvi is forcing his grandpa to get on one of the rides.

“I should go with her instead if I don’t want to collect my father’s corpse after this” he grins and they walk towards the people queuing.

“Elvi, leave abuelito, Dad is going with you” Isa tries to sound like an authority but she keeps laughing watching poor Chucho scared

“No, I want to go with you” she crosses her arms and pouts “With you both, mami y papi” she says

“I-I” Isa simpers

“Leave mami, she doesn’t like this kind of things”

“No!” she cries “Like abuelo said, we’re going together all of us”

“Honey...” Javi bends to her, but Isa posses her hand on his shoulder

“Okay, I’ll go too, but you leave abuelo stay”

She seems to hesitate for a bit, but then she nods and finally Chucho breathes deeply in relief.

“Be careful” he says walking way too fast away from the queue

The attraction simulates a ship going forward and backward, each time farther away and faster. Isa exhales trying to calm herself down while Elvi and her husband laugh at her.

“Remember I told you I puked in one ride the first time I came to the fair? So this is the one, you two won’t be laughing once I vomit all over you both” she screams and that makes them laugh even more

The first two rounds are not that bad. Isa holds one hand on her seat the other over Elvi’s body. Javier reaches timidly at first to brush his fingers over hers as to reassure her, he’s about to recoil but she holds on tightly to his fingers, her eyelids strongly closed. When thing finally stops, Isa can barely walk.

Elvira is already jumping towards Chucho trying to convince him to get on another round with her.

“Hold on to me come on” Javi says holding her by the waist it’s been two days since he last touch her. Two days where he has tried to hold her hand or subtly tried to bump into her while on the kitchen but she has refused his touch. So he closes his fingers on the dress trying to hold on what she has finally given him and not force the situation and make her go back to that state again. Although all he wants is to hold her in his arms and take the pain he sees on her eyes away. Pain you have caused, idiot.

“No way, señorita, you will kill you grandpa” he responds

Time passes and Isa is no longer shaking and can stand on her legs, but lets her husband’s arm around her, his hand rubs gentle circle on her side.

“We should get you something to eat”

There’s a big plain at the center of the fair where they’ve installed a stage and some tables facing it; around the terrain many foodtrucks offer anything you’d like to eat and fill the air with million different and delicious scents.

Javi kisses her temple “I’ll be back”

After ravishing a burger and fries Isa feels the cold sweat and the nausea fading away. The band is now playing slow songs and a many couples are dancing around the colorful little lights that cross over the flatland. Chucho clears his throat and looks at his son in a not very subtle way and motion his head to the people dancing and then to his wife.

“Do you want to dance?” Isa sips her soda and seems confused by his offering

“You don’t dance”

“I dance... sometimes, c’mon, it’s been a long time” he stand up and tends a hand to her gaining a smirk and a wink from his father.

The band starts playing a bachata. Javi lays her hand on her lower back feeling the way her hips go right and left, her soft breath on his chest while he brushes his lips on her forehead.

“I think this one was on that tape I gave you” she says on his ear, raising her voice over the music

“Suggestive enough” he smirks “We listened to that tape on a loop in my car that summer”

“I don’t know if I’d call listen to a tape what we used to do in your car” she laughs

“Yeah, the nights at the riverbank and that tape...I remember”

“I wish we could go back sometimes” she whispers so softly that Javi is not sure if she just says it to herself

The song ends and the people cheer and clap but they stay in a tight embrace knowing that when they let go and they’re back to square one. Javi is still parting on Monday and Isabel will stay always waiting for him to come back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The trip back home is calm; Chucho drives while the radio plays some classics from the 60’s, Isabel holds her child’s head on her chest, her other hand lays lazily between the seats, slowly advancing towards Javi’s thigh until she brushes her knuckles over his jeans. He turns to face her but she keeps looking through the window at the night sky and the fading lights of the fair. After leaving Elvira on bed, Chucho feels that it’s time for him to leave the two of them alone.

“I’m going to sleep, you don’t have to wake up early but I’ll go to church tomorrow at nine” Chucho announces before going to his room

The humble space in the living room suddenly feels like a world away from one end to the other, from the corner where Javi stand to Isa on the other. She looks down trying to find the things she wants to say and to command her feet to walk, to run to him.

“I think I’m going to sleep” Javi says unbuttoning his shirt

“Do you want to walk with me? Just for a bit” she interrupts

“Yeah...okay” he raises his brow confused but agrees instantly, whatever makes her talk to him again.

They walk around the property, the crickets and breeze the only sound around them. The animals are asleep and the current of the nearby river is stronger in that part of the ranch.

“I used to love nights like this” she says eventually

“Yeah, I’d pick you up after your shifts at the bar and we spent the night right here” he points to an old red truck now dusty and abandoned.

“I should have known better than to end up with a guy that fucks you on a pick up because his father is sleeping inside the house” she scoffs

“Well, to be fair, I remember I fucked you in plenty other places” he jokes back “Do you want to see if that old tape is still there?”

They approach the shed where Chucho keeps the old car, the door squeaks when Javi opens it.

“Ladies first” he lays out a hand so Isa can get inside and impulse herself on the step. They sit, as many years ago, on the black leather seat that is well preserved even if it’s been years since the last time it was used. Isa throws a look behind her; the blankets they used to cushion their bodies are still there, and she sighs softly

“When was the last time that we did it here?” she asks while Javi struggles to open the radio that’s full of dirt and rust.

“Probably two weeks before you told me that you were pregnant” he guesses

“Poor Elvi, we made her on this old thing” she laughs

“Our lives and my back were never the same” he jokes

“It was me who was most of the time on back” Isa slaps him playfully “So dumbed by you I’d let you do anything over those old rugs”

“Under the stars, listening to Juan Luis Guerra...it was romantic, you told me yourself” he defended

“Again I was dumb”

“I still think this old thing brought us many joyful moments” he taps on the dashboard

“Nostalgic I see” Isa smirk

“A little, you?”

“You’re trying to fuck your way out of this one too” she sighs shaking her head

“Just trying to give my wife a good orgasm before leaving”

“Oh, you’re so sure of yourself”

“Empiric fact, don’t I always make you cum?”

His hand raises the hem of her dress and pulls her legs apart. Her panties already have a damp patch on its center and he grunts feeling her moan just with the faintest brush of his finger between her folds

“What did the song say? I want to spend the whole night wet in you”

Isa gasps when he pulls her to his lap in a swift motion.

“Something like that” she bends her head and kisses him hard biting his lower lip softly

“I want to make love shapes under the moonlight” Javi raises slowly her summer dress until he takes it off and wastes no time in kissing and licking her bare breasts once they’re liberated from the fabric. He tends to one first cupping it, licking and sucking on her nipple and then to the other until her soft skin gets gooseflesh. Isabel moans and rocks her hips back and forth trying to find relief.

“Face to face, kiss by kiss, I want to live always wet in you” he whispers before resuming his sweet attention on her tits

“You learnt it by heart” she laughs

“Cos it’s accurate, that’s how I feel about you, baby”

Isabel unzips his jeans and palms his length over his underwear before releasing him. She wets her hand with her own saliva before stroking him up and down. Helping her, Javi reaches for her core and slips the wet panties to the side not without caressing her clit first with his thumb

“Isa” he moans feeling her arousal, his head on the hollow of her neck nibbling over her pulse. The way he pronounces her name, how he caresses every letter sends her shivers and increases her hunger for him. She reaches between her bodies and lets his cock slide inside her. She starts rocking her hips, moving up and down and in a few thrust she finds the perfect angle where he hits that sensitive spot.

“Shit” she pants

Javi whispers praises in her ear how good she feels, how beautiful she looks naked in the moonlight with him buried so deep inside her. And with that she loses control and rides him faster and harder with her back arched against the dashboard; sensing her immediate release Javier locks his lips on her breasts sucking on her nipples and reaching for her clit between their bodies.

“Cum for me, my love” he says, his gaze fixed in her contort expression, eyes closed and mouth open and she shakes around him feeling tense for a second and then as if her bones had melted she collapses on his chest.

Javi thrusts lazily feeling how she quivers around his cock and lets her relax from her orgasm before increasing the pace again to find relief.

Regaining a bit of her conscience, Isa straightens her body and lets him push in her hard and fast until he crumbles.

They stay there under the moon and starts in the old car where all started; a thousand times they had lost themselves in each other like this, and a thousand times Isa wishes that everything would be as easy as this with him.

She strokes his arms drawing soft circles over his muscles “I know you can’t, but I really want you to stay with us, with me. But if leaving this time helps you understand that you belong to me and your place is here, with me, then so be it”

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XVI. La vereda de la puerta de atrás

A/N: Finally we know what happened to Harry! I’m excited for you guys to read this, let me know what you think :)

INDIE’S POV

I can barely make it to my room. It surprises me how many tears we can make without drying ourselves. I started crying the second I got away from Harry’s house and I cried all the way to my house in the taxi and still I’m not done.

I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why in the world I thought it would be okay if I just talked about that but the fact that Harry’s friend collaborated on the association and the way he said “it was their son, right?”

It wasn’t just their son. It was Dylan and Dylan was everything. Dylan made me play piano every day, Dylan would come over to my house just to see me for 5 minutes even if he lived 40 minutes away, Dylan showed me the best sunset I have yet seen. And Dylan was also a musician and he was a friend and, yes, he was a son, and a boyfriend and a grandson.

He was my first love and I swore he would be the last because there’s just no other way. He was half of me, it’s as simple as that. We were connected and we still are and we will always be because that’s just what it is when you find the one. I know most people don’t even find them, most people search their entire lives to find what I had with Dylan and still never find it so I should be thankful because it’s better to have loved and lost than to haven’t loved at all; but it’s just so hard…

I lie on my side on my bed and let the tears soak my pillow. I can’t push the memories away now. I opened the dam and now everything is coming out and choking me. I remember my Mum knocking on my bedroom door, the way she looked, I’ll always remember the way she looked. And my screams, tearing my throat up, and her small arms trying to hold me as I yelled and fought. I remember the sirens and then the hospital and Dylan’s mother’s face and how my hands trembled.

I don’t even know how in the midst of all the horror I’ve fallen asleep but the vibration of my phone against the mattress wakes me up. I bring it to my ear without checking the caller ID.

“Indie, thank God!” Harry’s loud voice pierces my ear.

“What is it?” My voice is hoarse after the sleep and the crying.

“What happened?” He asked. “The doorman told me you were crying. It’s the first time he tells me something like that.”

“Well it must have shocked him, I’m sure the rest of Med students that leave your apartment leave with a big smile and freshly fucked.” I regret my words as soon as I say them. “Sorry, that is none of my business.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing.”

“What happened, Indie? Were you crying for something I said or didn’t say or-”

“No” I cut him off before he keeps messing up “it has nothing to do with you. It’s just… I cry every time I talk about him. I don’t like talking about what happened.”

Harry sighs.

“Yeah, I understand…” He doesn’t. “It’s the same for me…”

“What?”

“Listen, baby, I gotta go but… Uh… I’ll see you tomorrow night?”

Tomorrow night? He’s crazy.

“I can’t.” I lie.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, baby…”

“I have plans.”

He sighs.

“Indie, I-”

“It’s true.” I lie. “I’m not like you, I do have a life.”

“Wow.”

My eyes fill with tears again. I am a horrible person. I don’t even know why I said that to him but I can’t even speak now, my throat is completely closed. How could I throw that in his face after what he told me? I deserve all the bad things that could happen to me.

“Call me when you’re not mad anymore so we can talk.”

He hangs up. The distress hits me harder, it wraps around my chest and presses down and I feel like it’s going to collapse but I don’t even care if I stopped breathing.

Whenever I think of him, it’s like it’s happening all over again, like I never did all that progress, like I never went to therapy or like it’s the first time this is hitting me. But it’s not; and I know what I have to do. I can’t be alone or I would go down the same old dark road again and I don’t want that. I can’t endure that same old story.

Jason appears on my door not half an hour later. This reminds me so much of those months too but somehow instead of a trigger is comforting because he was there for me then and he’s here for me now and he’ll be here if I need him tomorrow and his hug always feels like the world can’t touch me if his arms are around me. I start crying again.

It's not as catastrophic as it was before but the quietness only makes it even harder. My heart is breaking all over again and now it’s doing it silently. Frustration is added to the pain because I don’t want to stay always stuck here. I want to move on and be able to talk about Dylan without wanting to die myself and instead here I am, on a cocoon on Jason’s arms as I silently cry on the couch.

I tilt my neck when I wake up for the third time today and find Jason with a deep frown and lips on a thin line. I look away from him and pout like a little girl. Of course he’s still mad at me. This doesn’t change what I said to him.

“How did he find out?” He asks instead. “Did you tell him?”

I nod and feel his hand on the low of my back as he shifts closer to me.

“A friend of his collaborates with Dylan’s organisation and… He asked about him.”

“Harry did?”

“No, his friend. Harry didn’t know anything until this morning…”

Jason hums. His hand keeps drawing figures on my back so I dare to look at him again.

“Are you still mad at me?” I whisper as if I was afraid he would hear me and then say yes.

His eyes bore into mine.

“Do you really want to talk about this now?”

“So yes.” I look ahead but from the corner of my eye I can still feel his eyes fixed on me. “You can leave if you want.”

“I also didn’t have to come if I didn’t want to.” He points out. “But I still came because I love you.” He sighs. “Listen, I wish you would keep your opinion about my relationship to yourself but I talked to Marie and I know where you’re coming from. I know you mean well, Indie, and that you’re just worried about me but I respect you and the only thing I ask is for you to do the same.”

Oh, God, I don’t want to cry again.

“You’re right, J. I’m a terrible person and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you or disrespect you. I love you so much.” The tears win the battle as they roll down my cheeks. “You’re… You’re still one of the few people that actually put up with me and… I know I’m… Not making it easy for anyone but” I sob “I really do need you all. I feel so alone, J.”

His muscled arms wrap around me as he pulls me to him.

“You’re not alone, Indie.” His voice cracks. “You’ve got us, we’ll always be here for you, and you’ve got your family. You’ll never be alone, Indie-pixie. And about me putting up with you, I never want to hear you say that bullshit again, do you hear me? I’m fucking lucky to have you. Anyone who has you in their life is.” He presses a kiss on my hair line. “You take care of me and I know no matter what I can always count on you and I fucking love you, okay? We all do.”

“I love you too.”

“Good.” He puff a laugh. “Now let’s go eat something, I’m starving.”

I’m not but I go with him to my kitchen and watch him cook pasta for the two of us. If Dylan was here he’d force me to eat. He always did that but I always dismissed him. I’ve never had any eating problem, it’s just that Dylan thought I ate so little because he ate like some hungry lion all the time and for some reason he thought I should eat like him. He loved my mum’s cooking.

I remember back in Capitol in my house, which now is my dad’s house, we had this huge kitchen with huge glass windows that looked at my mum’s garden and I remember right before we started dating we would do our homework on the kitchen while she cooked and Dylan would be the taster of everything.

I imagine I would try to cook Spanish food for him now. He would like that I took up cooking, that’s for sure, and I’m sure he’d like everything I made too. But I’ll never know because he’s gone and he’ll never come back.

It was so hard to be in that kitchen or in that dining room or even in my room. I can barely sleep there. Everything at Capitol reminds me of him and that’s why it’s just so hard to visit my dad.

Jason sets a plate of pasta in front of me and I grab the fork even if I couldn’t eat if I tried.

“What did you guys do last night?” I try to divert my thoughts from Dylan to literally anywhere else.

“We had dinner at my place and then we went to Loft 39.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes, but it would have been better with you.”

I smile even though I doubt it.

“How’s Ollie?”

“Lost.” Jason shrugs. “She told me what she did to Mario and you’re right, it is nasty.”

“I talked to him last night, he was at Elvis Buchanan’s birthday and I think he’s falling for her…”

“Who the hell is Elvis Buchanan?” He frowns and I chuckle.

“He’s a guy.” I shrug. “He’s nice.”

His eyes look up from his plate to mine.

“How are things with Harry?”

I shrug. Well, the other night he cried on my bed and last night he told me to get my own blanket if I was cold but after that we spooned and he ate me out this morning. So I have no idea.

“What do you think?” I ask him instead “You know, about Harry and me?”

“What’s there to think?”

I shrug.

“I don’t know… I mean… Do you think he’s using me?”

“Do you?”

I shrug.

“Where is this coming from, Indie?”

“It’s just… This morning he talked to this friend and when he asked him who I was he said I was a Med student.”

Jason’s eyes narrow.

“And you are.”

“Yes, but… Is that what I am to him? A Med student?”

“Well, what is he to you?”

I’m struck dumb.

“A friend.” I tell him.

He nods.

“Well, I’m guessing he was just trying to establish you, I guess. I mean what else could he say? It’s how you met after all.”

I don’t want to keep talking about it, especially having Dylan’s smile on my mind so I look away from him and nibble some on my past at the risk of throwing up.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asks.

I guess that’s a way of taking my mind off. We play Failure to Launch but I fall asleep soon after Sarah Jessica Parker shows up. Grieving is really exhausting.

“Indie”

Warm hands lightly shake my arms and I blink.

“Dylan?”

“No, it’s Jason.”

I rub my eyes and see Jason looking at me with sorrowful eyes.

I feel my heart crashing on my chest. I haven’t seen a single photo of Dylan since his funeral. I can’t. But it’s heart-breaking to realize how hard it is for me to remember his face now. I know the colour of his eyes, and I can fantasize about his smile but if I close my eyes and try to see his entire face, I just… It’s not like a picture.

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Jason walks me to bed and lies down next to me before he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him.

Had I been with Harry, he wouldn’t have woken me up to take me to bed. Instead, he would have picked me up like a kid and take me to bed himself. I don’t know why I just thought about that.

Jason’s fast asleep but I lie wide awake on the mattress. Of course I would do that, I’d fall asleep at any random moment and then stay up for the rest of the night. As much as I try to fall asleep it’s impossible and I wonder if this is how Harry feels when he can’t sleep too. No wonder he was harsh to me, this is terrible.

I haven’t gotten anything from him all day after our talk on the phone. Not that it surprises me after what I told him, but I still wonder how he’s doing. I wish I could talk to my therapist right now. Well, I don’t, because I know what she’s going to say and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to fight her again, but I guess I want to know what I’m thinking and I know it sounds silly to say that but I need help figuring that out.

I remember when Dylan passed away I had this feeling in my chest and my belly and I thought I had asthma but it was none of that, it was just anguish and the thing was I couldn’t put my finger on it to the point where I just thought I was sick on my lungs and not on my mind. Even after therapy though, sometimes it’s hard for me to kind of know what I’m feeling.

I need to get out of bed. I’m driving myself crazy and, since Harry’s not around, the only other thing that manages to take my mind off, is downstairs so I try not to wake Jason up as I make my way to the reading room. When I slide the door opened, I entertain my eyes with the moonlight hitting the piano and without thinking, I sit on the stool and lift up the black lid so the keys are exposed to me.

I run my fingers through them, I haven’t played in three years. I’m not even sure I’m going to remember how to play but my fingers seem to remember Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata even before my mind does.

I’m not me anymore, I’m a part of a bigger thing, I’m a part of what’s playing and it surprises me to realize before I met Harry, I had resigned from feeling this way, from not thinking and just being but after I met Harry or since I know Harry, this is how he makes me feel. He makes me feel like music does.

It scares me because I know everything would be less painful if he was here now, if he was sitting down on one of the reading chairs listening to my sonata before he stood up and took me bare. But he is not and he won’t be here because it’s just sex between us.

I look ahead when I finish the piece and find a flabbergasted Jason staring at me with his lips parted. I look down, embarrassed.

“That was beautiful, Indie.”

“It wasn’t.” I complain. “It was sad.”

“It was sad and beautiful.”

I don’t understand how something can be sad and beautiful but I’ll let it go. I know Jason’s tired and I should try to get some sleep too.

“That was the first time I played since Dylan died.” I say. “Do you think I’m betraying him?”

Jason’s eyes hold mine for the longest minute. I don’t expect what he says.

“He’d like him.”

HARRY’S POV

It’s been a chill Monday. I’ve only had two surgeries and two hours of office so I’ve been able to work on my patients’ record a lot but it’s been hard to focus.

Family weekends always drain me, especially when it’s not my plan so I didn’t have time to prepare, not that I prepare very well anyway and to make things worse, Indie hasn’t contacted me yet.

I know I should give her time and space and all that shit but I’m tired of this back and forth with her. I don’t even know why but I have this need to make sure she’s okay and I just don’t want her to be in pain. It’s as simple as that. And knowing she’s gone through that… I guess it just explains a lot of things.

And I know I don’t deserve her, I don’t deserve any of this but… I’m starting to think maybe I don’t have to… Be alone all the time. She doesn’t want anything other than the physical relationship we have from me and that’s good, that’s safe; but it doesn’t mean I don’t worry about her. I never thought someone like her was going to show up and just change everything but for the first time since it happened, I actually want to tell somebody about it. I want to tell her. Yet I don’t know how… Because for all I know she might just storm out of the room- the girl has a temper- or tell me she’s not an ONG or something like that but… I just think if I can get her understanding I might forgive myself and I’m starting to think she might need me too.

Harry: Are you at uni?

I know she is because she was driving herself crazy when she had to miss lectures because she was sick so I don’t think she’d skip a lecture for any other reason. I think it’s cute that she’s such a psycho. She gives me a hard time over the amount of hours I work but I’m pretty sure I won’t see her face at all during finals.  

Indie: Yes.

Harry: At the lectures hall?

Indie: Yes

Indie: What do you want?

Harry: I’m picking you up

Indie: What?

Indie: No!

Harry: Why not?

Indie: I’m going shopping with Marie.

Harry: Well, go some other day.

Indie: No, I’ll see you some other day.

Harry: Please, love.

Indie: I said no but don’t worry I’m sure you can find some other Med student to fuck.

I hate it when she says that. It’s none of her business like she keeps saying but she really does get on my nerves when she acts like that. The only reason I was seeing other people is because she said we were “just sex”.

Anyway, I’m picking her up. I’ll drive her and Marie to the shops if that’s what I need to do to be able to talk to her. She can’t just act as if she cared and then shut me out and push me away whenever she feels like it.

I am leaning against the bars where the students lock their bikes when I see her walking out of the lectures hall holding a folder against her chest. She frowns and pouts like a mad little girl when she spots me and I know it shouldn’t be funny to me but I just think it’s so cute that her face is so giving. She stops in front of me and doesn’t stop frowning but I’m grinning at her. She’s hilarious.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You gave me no other choice.” I shrug.

“Yes, you could have waited for tomorrow.” She whispers through clenched teeth.

“You would have given me another excuse.” We both know that.

“Why are you smiling? Do you think this is funny?”

“Sort of.” I admit. “I mean, I’m not fully sure why you’re mad.”

“Anyone could see you here.” She looks at both her flanks.

“Indie, I work here. It’s not strange for anyone to see me here.”

“Yes, but talking to me?”

Her words sting but I don’t let her see that.

“I told you I can’t meet you today.”

“Yes, because you were going shopping with Marie who is nowhere to be found.”

“We’re meeting at the shops.”

“Okay, well, I’ll drive you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I just want to talk.”

She studies my face. Her hair is tied up on a long braid that falls on her back but some thin locks have fallen out of it and dance over her face. I want to tuck them behind her ear but I don’t. I need to stop doing that sort of things. She sighes, she’s going to say yes.

“Okay.”

I smile and walk towards my car and she adjust her bag on her shoulder before she starts walking next to me. She is texting someone and my hands seem to have a mind of their own because they hold her waist as we walk down the kerb towards the parking lot, afraid that she might not see it and stumble. Her body tenses up, she’s just as surprised as I am.

The drive is silence because she’s still texting whoever it is she’s talking to and I take the time to arrange my thoughts. I’ve never actually told anyone about this. Those who know know because they’re a part of the story one way or another but I’ve never sat in front of a third person and told them about the accident.

When I pull over at the shops parking lot, Indie unfastens her seat belt but waits for me to say something. She’s nervous and she’s probably uncomfortable too but I don’t want to do this here.

“Should we have a cup of coffee?” I offer.

She weighs her options. I don’t think she knows I’d do whatever she asks me to but she nods. I wait for her in order to walk side by side to the nearest café we can find and I dare to place a hand on her lower back as I gently guide her to one of the tables. She’s scolded me before about me not touching her in public and even though she just fought me for showing up at the lectures hall, I think she doesn’t mind the contact when we’re not in the hospital.

We take a seat on one of the tables near the far window. Through the window we can see the road, there’s a narrow pavement between the café and the road, but not many people pass by. It’s too cold for walks already so all we see is cars driving by. When a person walks by though, I see the fog coming out of their mouths as they breathe. It makes our spot cosier since warmth is not something you can see, but; likewise everything, it’s something you can feel better when you’re face to face with its absence.

Indie looks incredible, as usual. I love how pink looks on her and how cosy she looks on her winter clothes. Her hazel eyes bore into mine like she was a deer and I was the spotlight and I don’t know why all of a sudden she’s giving me that look. That’s the look she gives me on the bedroom too.

“How are you?” I start.

“Good.” She shakes.

Am I making her this nervous? I’m the one who’s nervous… Maybe I’m passing it on her. But she just looks so good and soft and fragile… I don’t want to say something that would somehow hurt her. I feel my heart beating fast and hard against my ribs. I’ve never been more afraid of anything on my life but I don’t want her to blame me and I’m afraid she will.

“Are you nervous?”

“No” she shakes her head “I’m just cold.”

“Do you want my jacket?”

I start taking it off before she can answer but she stops me by lifting her hands in the air.

“No, I’ve got my own coat. You’ll freeze.”

“I’m not cold, baby.”

I lend her my jacket and she covers her shoulders with it before she tucks her hands between her thighs trying to warm up. I order two cups of coffee and stare at her.

“You’re always cold.”

It’s true. She always shakes when she ends up alone in the bed because she moves around a lot and unlike me, her hands and her arms are always cold too. She nods and gives me a knowing smile.

“Are you still mad at me?”

She shakes her head. Good. I won’t ask why she was mad in case that makes her mad again. Plus, I’m about to tell her a very intimate part of me. I need her to be on my side.

“And sad?”

Her big eyes look down to the table. The waiter places our two cups on the table and her fingers break the wrapper of a sugar package before she adds some sugar to her coffee.

“I know you are, Indie.” She stirs the coffee. “And I understand.”

The repetitive movement of her hand stops and my heart follows suit when she looks up at me. I’ve never seen her like this before and I wish I could take her pain away but for the first time I don’t feel like she’s better than me. I don’t see her like this girl who takes care of everyone, drinks gin and doesn’t let you get too close. She’s vulnerable and she needs me too.

“I didn’t like that you dropped that bomb like that and just left as if we were strangers but that was not about me, I take it. And after the way you talked to me on the phone, I understood you didn’t want to see me or talk to me and I’ve respected that but-”

“Why did you say you understand?” Her eyes bore into mine and my breath catches on my throat. “You said that that day and you’ve said that now.”

I take a deep breath. Here we go…

“My sister had a car accident when she was twenty-two years old. I know it’s not the same, because she didn’t die, but… She almost did.” My voice croaks but the way she’s looking at me, with brown eyes wide opened and her full lips shut makes me go on. “Uh, she was in a coma for 5 days and… We didn’t know if she was… Going to make it. She did but… Uh… She can’t walk.”

Indie places her hand over mine and only then I realize I’m shaking. She intertwines our fingers and I stare at out hands. Her skin is so much tanner than mine and so much softer too.

“I’m very sorry, Harry.”

How can she be sorry? Her boyfriend died on a car accident. This is not the same… Yet it’s still hard.

“She was pregnant.”

Indie’s eyes sadden further and her grip on my hand tightens. I can’t tell her.

“The baby died on her womb and it teared in the accident so they had to remove it in surgery so… Uh, she can’t carry babies now.”

“Shit.”

“I didn’t help her or anyone at all. I just… I couldn’t. Even now I can’t even look at her without feeling so terrible.” I confess. “And I know she doesn’t want that, she doesn’t need that; but I just… Can’t overcome that, I guess. So… It’s always very hard for me to see her and that obviously has driven me away from my family.”

Indie nods. I guess she doesn’t know what to say to me.

“Is that why you started working so hard?” Her voice comes out in a thin whisper. “You told me you kind of buried yourself in work… Is that why? So that you wouldn’t think about it?”

I nod.

“I was eighteen when that happened and I think that’s the reason why I decided to become a doctor. My sister spent the entire summer in the hospital, you know, learning how to… Be, I guess and after I went to uni and… Everyone was like going out and having fun and meeting new people and falling in love but I just… Was not in that point in my life so I didn’t really make many friends, also because I wouldn’t let many people in and… Yeah, I guess I just started studying a lot and afterwards working a lot.”

“Do you not see your family at all anymore?”

“No, I do.” I nod. “I visit them every once in a while. They were here yesterday and the day before, that’s why I didn’t, uh, I don’t know contact you to try to comfort you even though I don’t think I would have been successful.”

I give her a sad smile that she reciprocates.  

“Is that why you can’t sleep?”

Kind of. I nod. I lick my lips before I bring my cup to my lips and take a sip.

“You didn’t have to tell me about this so thank you.” She gives me a sad smile.

“I wanted to.” I confess. “I wanted you to know that you’re not alone and that you can talk to me if you ever… I don’t know.” I smile at her.

“Thank you.” She has a sip of her coffee before she takes a deep breath. “I never really talk about it or him.” Her dark eyebrows lower on her forehead. “I… I… I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

I hold her hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing her skin as she stares at me with a surprised expression. I’m surprised too. I don’t know what I’m doing.

“You don’t have to.” I shrug, trying to dismiss how I just crossed the line. “I just want you to know that if you ever want to or need to, you can tell me.”

“Okay.” She smiles. “But I’m better now anyway.”

“Good.” I rub my hands together as I give her a smile. “Then what do you feel like doing now?”

She chuckles.

“Going shopping with Marie like I told you.”

Oh, so she wasn’t lying.

“Can I go with you and give you girls my opinion on the changing room?”

“Of course not.”

I click my tongue and make a grimace of disappointment that has her chuckling again.

“It was worth a shot.” She agrees making me laugh.

But now I can’t take the image of her perfect body trying on lingerie out of my head. I imagine the way the soft lace would rest on top of her skin because she always wears clothes that fit her perfectly without being tight and that always drives me mad. How easy it is to just slip her panties down her soft legs…

“Don’t go shopping, Indie.”

She frowns. This is insane, how she unwillingly and unknowingly controls my emotions giving me the mood swings of a pregnant woman. She’s driving me crazy for real.

“Don’t you want to show me the underwear you’re wearing now?”

Her eyes widen but don’t leave mine so I smile mischievously. I know her better than she’d like and I know she likes it when I talk dirty to her. It’s like everything we’ve talked about before this, as serious as it was, is not on our minds anymore. It’s hard to think of anything other than her when she’s right in front of me, giving me her attention like she is now, looking at me and listening to me and just being here. I want to be closer to her.

“Do you not want my mouth on you, baby?” I lick my lips and watch her cheeks tinging pink. “Do you want to know what I want?”

Her lips part but instead of answering she takes air in. I don’t need her to say yes for me to know she does want to. She always does.

“I want to put your perfect ass against my kitchen counter and eat you out like you deserve, love.”

Her juicy mouth parts and I feel my dick hardening. She’s so easy, she’s as horny as I am.

“And then I’d fuck you onto the counter until your ass goes numb. Look at you, you’re blushing.” I grin. “It never fails to surprise me how shy you seem to be out of bed and how dirty you are in it.”

“Maybe I’m the perfect example of a lady out and a slut in.”

If she had said that any other way, I would have played along but the way she lifted her chin and clenched her jaw gives her away.

“Indie, you’re not a slut.” She rolls her eyes. “Why? Because you like sex? That doesn’t make you a slut, baby, it makes you a human.”

My hand reaches for her braid and I twirl a finger around it before I grip it between my fingers and gently pull from it bringing her face closer to mine until our lips are inches away.

“I like it” I tell her “that you’re free and you know what you want, it’s fucking sexy, baby.”

I press my lips against hers before she can reprimand me for the PDA and I feel her breath against my mouth as she takes the kiss. It takes her a few seconds to reciprocate but I smile when she bites my bottom lip. I bet she’s shutting her thighs together but before I can check that with my own hand underneath the table, her phone rings and she pulls apart.

“Hi, Marie.” She gives me a death glare as she wipes my saliva from her lips. “I’m having a cup of coffee on” she tilts her neck searching for the name of the cafeteria “on Sionpa, it’s right next to the- oh, right, yeah, yeah, that’s the one but don’t” she all but yells “worry, I can, I’ll go out. There’s no need for you to come all the way here. See you in a second.”

The things she would say not to have her friends see me. I smile as she leaves a bill on the table.

“Here, I’ve got your coffee too.” She says.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes narrow. I know she was expecting a bit of resistance on my part but I know she doesn’t like it when I don’t let her pay so she won’t have it. I grin.

“Oh, Harry!”

Indie turns around and Adam grins at us.

INDIE’S POV

“Indie!” Adam’s face lightens up as he leans in to give me a light hug. “I hadn’t recognized you! It’s very nice to see you! How are you?”

This guy is so well-mannered and friendly. It even surprises me that he’s that close to Harry.

“Hi, Adam. I’m good, thank you, how are you?”

“Good. What a coincidence, hey?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Harry asks him.

He’s stood up from his chair and is now standing next to me with his hand on my low back.

“I need to get my mother a present. It’s not going well.” He smiles.

Harry chuckles.

“Just get her a book.”

“That’s like the least personal thing you could get her.” I complain.

“I don’t think so.” Harry argues back. “A scarf is less personal.”

“You are the king of presents.”  

Harry shrugs and Adam chuckles at our interaction.

“Is this what you were having?” Marie points at Harry with raised eyebrows and an annoyed expression.

Oh, shit.

“Marie!”

Adam laughs and my friend her eyes roam up and down his body. He grins at her. Alright, what is going on?

I look at Harry but he seems as lost as I am. He gives me a confused look as if he was waiting for me to solve this but I don’t know what we’re supposed to do either.

“Hi, I’m Adam. I’m a friend of Harry’s.”

“I’m Marie, a friend of Indie’s.”

Adam shakes Marie’s hand and I think everyone can see how she turned into the heart eyed emoji. Oh, Marie, don’t be so obvious… But he hasn’t taken his eyes off her either. She smiles nervously.

“Do you guys want to have a cuppa?”

“Well, we-”

“We’d love one.” Marie smiles.

“Sure.” Harry surprises me.

What are they doing?! I give Harry a death glare but he looks away so I focus on the other little devil.

“What was that? The shops are gonna close.”

“Well” she shrugs “the shops are there every other day.”

I stand there like a fool as Harry brings two more chairs to our table and takes a seat himself. Marie does the same and that’s when my head goes into a short-circuit. I would have never thought I would be having coffee with Harry at some random cafeteria, much less with Marie in what looks like a double date. Harry licks his lips inside his mouth amused and taps the empty chair next to him but I sit down next to Marie.

“Did you call him?” Marie asks me the second I sit down. She’s back. “Or did you follow her around?”

I feel my cheeks heating up but Harry grins as he looks at her.

“Second option.”

“And why do you do that?”

My eyes widen. Did timid Marie just ask that? She’s frowning at him as if she was a cop confronting a criminal and my breath catches on my throat. Harry looks at me before he looks back at my friend.

“Because I like her company.”

“Just because of that?” She challenges.

“Marie, dear Lord, shut it.”

“No” She frowns at me. “This is bad. She’s a lot younger than you, mister, and you’re her mentor, what if-”

“This is half the cuppas.” Adam says as he places a cup of tea before me and the other one before Marie. “I’ll be back with the rest.”

“What’s your game?” She resumes her accusations as soon as Adam walks away. “What do you want from her?”

“Marie, seriously, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Why? If you don’t ask the questions, somebody has to.”

“I’m not a-”

“I’m not playing with Indie.” Harry answers cutting my words short.

He’s studying Marie’s face with a stern expression. I wouldn’t be able to tell what’s going through his mind.

“I never have and what I want from her, she knows perfectly fine since the very first day.”

He doesn’t seem mad or annoyed at my friend’s rude behaviour but I’m beyond embarrassed. Thankfully, Adam arrives with his coffee and Harry’s and takes a seat next to his friend before another word can be spoken.

“Were you guys on a date?”

What is going on today? What sort of question is that? Harry chuckles and only then I realize he’s looking at me. My face must be a technicolour poem.

“No” I answer before Harry can embarrass me any further “we don’t go on dates.”

“I beg to differ.” Harry challenges with a smug smile.

I’m going to kill him. Adam and Marie look at each other trying to see if any of them know what’s going on but I mean neither do I.

“So how long for have you guys known each other?” He asks Marie.

Thank God, I need a break. Harry’s still smiling at me, he’s clearly loving this.

“Four years. We go to uni together.”

“Oh, so you study Medicine too?”

“Yes.” Marie nods.

“Oh, gosh, three nerds and me.” Adam jokes and my friend laughs.

“What did you study?” She asks. “If you studied at all.” She panics. “Because it’s fine if you didn’t. I mean you don’t have to, you know, it’s a valid choice not to and it’s also a valid choice to study. Please somebody stop me.”

Adam throws his head back and laugh and Harry fights against his smile but fails. Marie is adorable.

“I studied Journalism.”

“Oh.” Marie nods. “It sounds interesting.”

“Well” he shrugs “I’m currently working at this big cosmetics firm. I’m the crisis management responsible.” He nods. “I get all these free products that I don’t even know how to use.”

I chuckle. He’s great, what a subtle way of letting my friend know he doesn’t have a girlfriend. I almost bow at him.

“Really?” Marie chuckles. “That’s so cool!”

He chuckles and frowns.

“I mean, you can have them even though you don’t need them.”

I try to control my chuckle because he’s not laughing but I catch Harry rolling his eyes from the corner of mine. He then looks at me and smiles. My phone screen lightens up and Harry’s eyes drop on it too. He’s the nosiest person I’ve ever met. It’s an Instagram notificacion.

@gemmastyles liked your picture.

[amillionmillionvoices]

i couldn’t stop myself. river/doctor fic, based on steven moffat’s dream final episode. tooth rotting fluff, this is. pg. 

time is everything, time is nothing, time is ours

She’s been dying for weeks. 

Slowly, painfully, using the last of her regeneration energy to stave off death. For good, this time—her last body, last go around. She supposes it’s fitting, that her final hours would be spent trying, once again, to defeat them. It makes her a bit sour, if she thinks about it too long—there are so many things she’d rather be doing, people she’d rather be with—but she can’t leave. Not now. Not when this little planet needs her, and, she supposes, if she’s going to die for good she wants to die the way she’s always lived—saving the universe. 

Being an idiot, the voice in her head says, one that still, after so many lives, sounds suspiciously like her wife. 

The Doctor smirks to herself, and tries to avoid the screeching behind her, the door that won’t hold much longer. She tries to tune out their cries, familiar and robotic, with that hint of frenzy she’s never quite understood. 

She understands it now. Their desperation. 

The Dalek fleet is the last of its kind—the rest, destroyed in this grand battle, the one she’s been waging—leading—for years. The Doctor’s Last Stand, they’re calling it. It sounds far too dramatic for her tastes, but it’s not entirely off point. She’ll die here, she knows—on this Dalek ship, by Dalek weapons, alone. 

It’s for the best, really. 

The people fighting down below, they’re counting on her. Not to destroy the ship—no, that would be too easy, or perhaps, too hard, she isn’t sure which. No, the plan is much more ridiculous, much more her style. The Captain of the army had called it ludicrous. 

She likes that a bit. 

Behind her, sparks fly as the Daleks burn down the door, and she knows she has so little time left. 

Typing quickly, she does her best to ignore the searing pain in her side, the pounding in her head she’s felt for days. Everything hurts with the effort of not dying, and there’s no regeneration energy left to pull at her skin. But she has to try. Has to give just one more thing to the universe, and pray that it works. 

Yanking out wires and entering codes, the Doctor finally manages to find what she’s looking for—access to the hive mind. Clara had found it once, when she was an echo, and the idea has lingered so long, just out of reach. There’s no way to destroy them all—she’s tried that before, and always failed. She’s tried deleting herself, but they always remember. She’s tried time locks and explosions and everything else, and they always come back.

This time, she’s trying something new. This time, she’s going to change them. 

Groaning when she finds the slippery entrails, Dalek bits that writhe and slither, the Doctor keys in the last few commands, and takes a deep breath. 

Geronimo, she thinks, from somewhere in her memory, and smiles, and plunges her hand into the mainframe. It’s frankly disgusting, and she makes what she’s certain is a horrible face, but it’s only a moment before the Daleks realize she’s there, in their heads, and they scream. Scream, and fight, and the Doctor slams her eyes shut and tries to breathe. 

She’s always thought about giving the Daleks a piece of her mind, she just never meant literally. 

But she can feel it, feel their anger and their hatred, feel everything they abhor. It tries to sink into her, a two-way link, and she pushes back against it, fights it with everything she has, and remembers: 

Ian and Barbara, their strength and their love. Ace, and the Brigadier, and Martha, and Kate and their bravery, their fierce protectiveness, their love. She thinks about Clara and Danny, dying for love. Thinks about Bill, finding love after death. She thinks about Rose and her happy life with another version of her, in love. Thinks of Amy and Rory and their undying love and Jenny and her love and Yaz and her love and Ryan and his love and Graham and Grace and their love and Susan and Mickey and Sarah Jane and all of their heart, their kindness, their generosity, their love. She thinks of Donna and her love, her mercy, of Davros, and mercy, and the Master, and mercy, the Cybermen, and mercy, the Daleks, and mercy.  She fills her head and her hearts with every moment, every memory from her long, long life of love and mercy and kindness. 

She can feel the Daleks fighting back, feels them claw at her mind; part of her is aware the door behind her is caving in, but she needs more time. 

She thinks of Jack and Jackie and Adric and Romana and Wilfred and Nardole. She thinks of Astrid and Rita and Jabe and Nasreen and anyone and everyone she’s ever loved, who’s ever loved her, who’s ever loved anyone at all and pushes it all toward the Daleks.  

Blew them up with love, she thinks, though she isn’t trying to kill them, not this time. Just trying to save them. Maybe that was the answer all along. 

And maybe it wasn’t. 

She isn’t sure, but she knows it’s getting harder and harder to fight, to prove to them that it’s worth it—all the pain and loss and suffering that comes with kindness. 

So she does what she knows she needs to, though she’s reluctant—desperate, almost, to keep her to herself, to share not a moment of their lives together; but she can’t think about love and not think about her, so she lets it spill over, all those times: 

America, and Leadworth, and Stormcage. She thinks of Asgard and Trenzalore and Elvis. She thinks of Sontarans and she laughs and thinks of the Library and she cries. She thinks of Darillium, and smiles so wide her face hurts more than the pain in her chest, her lungs. She thinks of 24 years and so, so much longer, nipping off in the TARDIS for adventures. She thinks of River’s smile and River’s warm hands and River’s skin. She thinks of River getting ready for bed, wrestling with her hair, River getting up in the mornings, grumpy as all hell. She thinks of dancing with River under so many stars, and catching her every time she jumped or fell. She thinks of I hate you and you’re standing right behind me and loving the stars themselves. She thinks of not one line and more than any living thing in the universe and or you and when one’s in love and this is the reason above all I love him, my husband. My madman in a box. My Doctor. 

She thinks of next stop, everywhere, and behind her, the door comes down. 

She can hear them, the hiss, the almost questioned, exterminate? that doesn’t sound so sure, and yet when she looks over her shoulder there’s a gun aimed at her chest and frantically, she tries to remember more, remember louder and more clearly and more lovingly because they’re almost there, almost, so close—

The Dalek aims, and the Doctor shuts her eyes. 

The gun goes off, and she waits for pain and failure and death. 

Instead, the Dalek groans, and the Doctor opens one eye, confused. 

“Really? An end of the world battle and you didn’t call me? I’m insulted, sweetie.” 

Her voice is a surge of oxygen, sunlight and joy. The Doctor can’t help the smile the splits her cheeks—there’s recognition in River’s voice, fondness and devotion and worry, always, but determination, too. 

“And what sort of time do you call this?” The Doctor echos, and River steps around the Dalek, holstering her weapon. 

“The nick of it, I’d say.” 

“As always,” the Doctor agrees, wants to pull her in close, but pain spikes through her head, and she can feel the Dalek’s fighting back. She hisses, turns her attention back to the mainframe and grits her teeth. 

River appears at her side in less than a second, a steadying hand on her arm. 

“What have you done?”

“Ah,” the Doctor says, wincing in anticipation of River’s ire. “About that.”

It only takes her wife a moment to figure it out, to realize what she’s doing, and River gasps. “You idiot! You’ll burn yourself up!”

The Doctor shrugs. “Last regeneration,” she says, half her focus on keeping the Daleks—all that anger, all that hate—at bay. “I’m dying anyway.”

“No, you’re not,” River snaps, “Let me do it.”

The Doctor glares. “Not a chance.”

“Doctor—” Her voice is desperate, terrified, and the Doctor tries to smile, to be kind. 

“No, really, River. I’m dying. Have been for weeks. I’m on borrowed time.”

River’s eyes flicker over her body, looking for wounds. She won’t be able to see it—the shot she took to the stomach, courtesy of a lone Dalek—but River reads her face, the calm acceptance, and knows. 

Still, she shakes her head. “It’s not too late. We can get you to hospital—”

“And leave all these people?”

“Yes,” River says, but she doesn’t sound so sure, and the Doctor smiles. 

“Liar.”

River makes a kind of desperate sound, one that tears through her. “There has to be something—”

The Doctor shakes her head. “There’s no stopping it, River, not this time. I’m sorry.”

It’s the apology, she thinks, more than anything else, that makes River break, her expression falling, bright tears in her eyes. 

“No,” she says, tightening her grip on the Doctor’s arm. “I can’t let you die.”

“River,” she says, so soft, and with her free hand, pulls her closer, their hips pressed together. She reaches up, and brushes a stray tear from River’s cheek with her thumb. “Where are we, then?”

River swallows. “Last time I saw you was the Bone Meadows.”

Her Eleventh self, she thinks, and remembers: River, still in prison, still learning. Himself, still trying to prove something to her, both of them right at the start of such wonderful falling. 

“You’ve got so much more to come,” she promises. 

River bites her lip, and a surge of affection flows through the Doctor at the sight. “We could have more now,” she tries, but the Doctor shakes her head, leans forward, and kisses River’s cheek. 

“Soon enough,” she promises, and River nods, and finally looks down at the wiring, the open Dalek wound the Doctor is currently hooked up to. 

“What can I do?” she asks, so brave, so kind. 

The Doctor doesn’t think about it, not for a moment. “Give us a kiss?”

River half laughs, but doesn’t hesitate, leans forward and slides her hand into the Doctor’s hair and kisses her, soft and salty and she’s trembling slightly, and the Doctor pulls her in tighter, curls her free hand around the back of River’s neck and opens her mouth, kisses her harder. 

River whimpers, hands clinging to the Doctor and she’s warm and soft and safe and alive, so so alive under the Doctor’s hands and she loves her, has loved her for centuries, millennia, will love her forever. 

She thinks of the screwdriver tucked safely in her pocket, the code she’d written, not two days ago, and prays that it works. 

Under her hands, River moans softly and the Doctor grins against her lips, nips at her gently, refuses to let go. If it’s her last chance, her last moments, this is where she wants to be, who she wants to be with. 

She supposes maybe the universe isn’t so terrible, after all. 

There’s a spark, and a surge that knocks them backwards, the Doctor’s hand, burnt and bloodied, flying from the console. 

“No,” she says, “no, no, no—”

“Doctor, look.”

She pauses, and follows River’s gaze out the large window to the planet below. Everything has stopped. The explosions. Even the ship is silent. And then, the crackle over the speakers, a familiar voice with a strange humility. 

“Mercy,” it says. Below, the Daleks start to withdraw. “We bring mercy.”

The Doctor laughs. It may not work for good, may not last long, but the Daleks are retreating, or turning to each other, to the people, and she can hear bits of questions, “How can we help you?” and “We mean no harm.”

“What happened?” River asks. “Are they—?”

“Good, now,” The Doctor says. “At least for a while. At least as good as I am.”

River smiles. “The best, then.”

“Only with you,” she answers softly, and River shakes her head. 

“Sentimental idiot.”

The Doctor makes to answer, but pain overwhelms her and her knees buckle. She hears River cry out, feels hands lower her gently, but she isn’t on the cold floor, where she though she’d be. River cradles her head in her lap, brushing her fingers through her hair. 

“Please, sweetie—”

The Doctor grips her hand and forces her eyes open, wants to see her one last time. 

“River.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

Her hearts break, and she reaches a shaky hand to River’s face, holds her cheek in her palm. “I need—I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“The TARDIS. Bury me in it, and leave her… on Trenzalore.”

“Trenzalore? Why—”

“Long story,” she says. “Has to be lived. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You’ll be the only one… who can open it.”

“How?”

“Spoilers.”

River glares, but the Doctor smiles, even through the pain. With her free hand, she grips River’s tightly. 

“I can’t—” River shudders. “I can’t do this without you.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “You‘ll never have to. It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You've got so much more to come. You and me, River. Time and space.” 

“Promise?” she whispers. 

“I promise.” The Doctor coughs, and it hurts so badly, but River is there, and she’s like sunlight through the dark. “Darillium.”

“What?”

“Make sure I take you,” she says breathlessly. “Don’t go without me.”

“I won’t.”

She feels one of her hearts give out, and draws in a ragged breath. “River.”

“I know,” she says, and there are tears on her cheeks as she cradles the Doctor close. “I know, sweetie.”

“Tired,” she manages, and forces her eyes open. “But happy.”

River exhales. “Only you would be happy to die.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “Happy you’re here. My wife.”

“Always.”

With all her strength, the Doctor curls her fingers in River’s hair and rugs her down gently. “You watch us run, love.”

The last thing she feels is River’s lips against her own, River’s hand in hers. 

—

Waiting for River is tedious at best. He’s got a new body now, such as it is, made up of lines and code. He needs glasses—well, not really, but he thinks they make him look rather distinguished—and he’s partial to suits. He takes care of Charlotte as best he can, but the mainframe is overwhelmed and even he can’t fix it from the inside. He knows it’s only a matter of time, however, and tries to be patient. 

He’s a bit better at it this go around, but the way time moves is agonizing, feels awful under his skin and he can’t quite grasp anything, any moment. The years tick by, or maybe it’s only hours, he isn’t sure, and then there’s a surge, and the computer feels like it’s rebooting or dying or maybe neither and then—

Everything calms. The itch under his skin goes away, replaced by an entirely new anticipation. 

He follows Charlotte outside to the courtyard, blue skies everywhere, green grass, and blessed stillness. 

She appears in white, which he can’t help but find a but humorous, a bit fitting. 

“The Doctor fixed the data core,” Charlotte says, and brings River her friends, which, while he’s happy for her, makes him just a tad jealous, for the way she recognizes them and hugs them close. 

He waits, answers their questions dutifully, gives them a tour of the mansion, explains how it works, now that they’re not quite alive, not quite dead. River keeps her eyes on him the whole time, something discerning, calculating in her gaze, but she’s a bit distracted, and he supposes that’s only fair. 

He waits until everyone disperses to find their rooms and settle in before he turns to her, forcing back a smile. “Professor Song, might I have a word?”

River nods, and follows him into the backyard—there are tables and chairs and beautiful bird baths and all kinds of quaint things he can’t wait to show her, doesn’t care about at all right now. 

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit overwhelmed,” she admits. “I never thought—though of course he would, that daft man.”

“Are you happy?”

He holds his breath as she blinks, looks startled by the question. 

“To be alive? Certainly.”

“To be here,” he amends, and tries not to shift his weight. 

River stares off into the distance for a long moment. “I could be, I suppose. It’s just—” She shakes her head, and gives him a wane smile. “I’ve never been fond of confined spaces. Staying in one place.” She shrugs. “I’ll get used to it.” 

The Doctor steels himself. “You seemed content enough on Darillium.” 

River’s neck snaps up and her gaze hardens, so suspicious, his wife. 

“How could you know about—”

He smiles. Soft and warm, and with every ounce of devotion he has in him. 

“Doctor?” Her voice cracks. “How can you be—”

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend eternity without me?” he chides softly. “I’m much too selfish for that.”

River makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and throws her arms around his neck. He nearly wilts, holding her so close, buries his face in her hair and breathes her in and she feels solid, feels warm and alive and real and part of him can’t believe it worked, it all worked, and they’re here and together and—

She slaps him, hard, and he grunts, and rubs at his cheek. “I suppose I deserved—” he starts, and then she’s kissing him, mindless of his new face, his new body made of code; mindless of anything or anyone around them. She kisses him fiercely, desperately, arms around his neck and he holds her so tight he’s afraid she might bruise. 

“My River,” he whispers against her lips when she finally parts to breathe. “My wife.”

“Doctor,” she murmurs. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be, dear?” he asks, and she shudders in his arms. “We’re alive.” 

[queenofgoats]

Thank You For Being A Friend | Imagine a night out with Dean

Summary: On her first hunt, OC fails all along the line and falls into an emotional down. Now Dean tries to cheer her up and takes her out.

Characters: POV fem!OC x Dean

Word Count: 2.746

Warning: insecurities, alcohol, flirtations and words = just spn

A/N: Hello dears!

I wrote this little FF for the challenge from supernatural-love14. My prompt was: "we probably shouldn't be doing this"

The hardest part was definitely the bar. I miss the old social life so, so much! 

Still, I hope you have as much fun reading here as I do writing.

Have fun! :)

"We probably shouldn't be doing this..." I said slowly. Emphasizing each word.

My eyes rested on the two brothers in front of me.

“That's exactly what I told you. I mean, I'm terribly sorry for what happened, but you know...”

Actually, I wanted to apologize last night, but it turned a bit differently somehow.

None of this would have happened if the Winchesters had listened to me. And if I wouldn't have let them convince me.

“I know.” Sam sighed into his coffee.

His brother, on the other hand, didn't seem quite as guilty: “But it wasn't our idea that you would get drunk this hard and jump right at the next dude’s lips.”

Dean had a point.

It should only be a small drink. After months of isolation in the bunker, I was allowed to join a case for the first time. Do some research in the library, get a taste of civilisation and just come out again in general. Easy thing.

Because back in the bunker I had created a whole new definition of cabin fever. Not something to be proud of to be honest.

The case itself seemed pretty clear and totally easy at first.

Nobody would have expected that the wraith with a faible for “Schoolgirl Report” would work with an incubus. Nobody!

The last-named picked me up later in the bar, where we three had toasted, to get revenge on his dead friend.

It was horribly. Bloody. And I had a new topic for my future therapist.

“I’m really sorry.” I finally mumbled.

I felt terrible. Just because of me, Sam was forced to wear a cast on his arm again.

Now it was me who buried her eyes in the coffee.

"I should have known. That will never happen again. Promise!"

Dean looked up: "How would you have known?"

I winced, caught and hesitantly tried to explain myself.

“Well. Actually it was obvious that I normally wouldn't have a chance with a guy like him...

“Oh come on!” Dean interrupted me despising “Don’t do this the girly way.”

“...but it’s true! Please look at you and then at me. I…”

First I started to give more examples of my low self-confidence, but decided against it.

Nothing honest ever comes around in these talks. You're just trying to make the other feel better.

“Okay, wait. Just forget it. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Let’s say it was my fault and won’t happen again. Ever!”

I stopped the subject and did not tolerate any contradictions.

Sam seemed to want to say something, but luckily I put him off with my eyes.

Our breakfast ended in awkward silence.

Less than an hour later, I found myself in my motel room packing up my things. Even if unconsciously, I gave myself more time here than necessary.

The mood between us was strange. Of course, once in a while in the bunker we were bitching at each other, but this situation will set the course for possible further cases. Or living together in general.

Exhausted, I sat down on the edge of the bed and fell back with my arms outstretched.

Thoughtfully, I pale my cheeks and let the air slowly escape.

I sure didn't have too much pride to apologize. Mostly too often rather than too little.

But this was different.

The Winchesters had seen a side of me, that no one else had seen before. The little, vulnerable girl who just wants to be good enough. I hated her.

Not even I confronted her myself. I knew from experience that other people got ther completely wrong. Attention whore and fishing for compliments were nicer reactions.

Oh dear Chuck, I prayed that Sam and Dean would just forget about this and never bring it up again.

At this moment I heard car doors slamming shut outside in the parking lot. That gave me a little nudge and I finally got up.

I put my travel bag under my arm. On the heel I turned around again briefly to make sure that I had really not forgotten anything and finally closed the door.

Sam and Dean stood at the Impala and seemed to be talking about something quite emotional.

They even played Rock-Paper-Scissors.

“Hey boys, are we ready?” I interrupted them from afar. Not that I got anything in my ears that wasn't meant for me. They startled and turned to me.

I almost felt a little transported back to school. Despite the queasy feeling in my stomach, I just ignored it. Stowed my things in the trunk and went to my place in the back seat.

Unfortunately the ride didn't get any better. It wasn't that anyone was mad, but there was definitely something between us. How am I supposed to fix it?

A few hours later we arrived at the bunker late at night.

I literally jumped out of the car and ran down to my room. Did I ever feel so out of place?

Probably not. I couldn’t stand them at the moment and needed to be alone for a few minutes.

Just as I threw my jacket on the bed, there was a knock on the door.

“Yes please?” I sounded more annoyed than actually wanted.

Unusually careful, Dean entered the room and looked at me quite defensive.

“I overreacted, sorry for this.” I sighed. “This was not necessary.”

“Yeah, normally you’re not a drama queen. So it’s okay.”

Dean stepped across the room and sat on the edge of my bed: “That’s why I… or we think you didn’t exaggerate this morning. You really meant it ”

We?! Did they talk about me?

I cleared my throat.

“Oh boy... Embarrassing.” It rang out of me.

Dean continued: “Uhm, I’m sorry too! I really am! That didn’t go well for all of us.”

He stopped and fixed indefinite points in the room. Apparently he was looking for the right words.

“You know. You are here… with us all along. And hey, you are a girl and have needs...”

I didn't know where this was going, but I did not like it.

“Dean. No. Seriously. We won’t have The Talk. I told you, something like this will never happen again and it’s fine. Can we leave it at that, please?”

We couldn’t. He raised his finger and looked deep into my eyes: “No.”

I huffed.

“You deserve to have fun and go out from time to time.”

“Yeah and you remember how it ended?”

“That’s why you are going out with me. I’m not a monster and in case of emergency I’ll protect you.”

I looked at Dean Winchester for quite a while.

In the middle of the room I stood there, arms crossed. Trying to hold back my anger.

“Wow. Really. How heroic.”

He hadn't expected this reaction: “What?”

“First: You do this out of pity. Second: Your pity is not big enough. So you and your brother fought to see who had to take me out.”

Caught!

“Why would you think that?” He asked, playing outraged.

“You can’t fool me, Dean. And I saw you at the parking spot back at the motel. You and Sam played about it. Since you always lose and are here now...”

There was silence.

“Wow.” Dean huffed. “You must think I'm quite a dick now.”

“Not only quite.” I said and immediately smirked slightly. Of course I can’t stay mad.

Slowly I walked to the bed and sat next to him.

“I mean… I know you had the best intentions, but... It’s just… Can you imagine how I feel? Going out, just because someone feels sorry?”

In fact, it made me feel worse than before.

“I didn’t mean to.” Dean apologized. “But I want you to feel better. Nevertheless.”

Right the next evening I stood in front of my mirror and applied some eyeliner. Or rather corrected it.

I haven’t opened my makeup bag in ages. Let alone putting on a simple cover stick.

Jepp, I was quite nervous. Even if Dean and I agreed to go out, but as friends, it scared me a bit.

Just couldn’t tell why.

I was so insecure! Every view of myself made it worse. Was the lipstick too much? Maybe I should change the dress. It was way too short! Phew, and my thighs have seen better days.

These months in the bunker didn't exactly flatter my figure.

Maybe I should cancel this evening.

“Hey, swing down sweet Chariot!” Dean poked his head through the door and tapped his watch. “Hurry up!”

Oh dear Chuck, what have I done? It’s not that I think anything would change in the relationship between Dean and me, but still...

“One minute!” I replied and walked quickly to the door.

His eyes went wide and he formed his lips for a whistle.

“Don’t do it!” I interrupted him. “Let’s go. I need a drink. Urgent.”

Dean just laughed and followed me to the Impala. Noticing he also dressed up.

Not a flannel shirt in sight, just a simple but fine black one.

Apparently Dean tried to take my nervousness away and covered everything with slightly gentleman behavior. First held the car door open for me and then, while I reached for the not existing seatbelt,

he held a small bottle of sparkling wine under my nose.

“It’s going to be a four hour drive. Save it.”

Now he had me. I laughed: “Thank you. You’re the sweetest.”

After we left the streets of Lebanon and I took a few relieving sipps, I asked him where we were actually going.

“Vegas, Baby!” was the answer.

I raised an eyebrow: “Okay I’m in, but Elvis takes me to the altar.”

Dean chuckles. “Alrighty then.”

Of course it was not Vegas, but we ended up in Kansas City. And that meant big city. Like really big. Skyscraper. Waste Gas. Too many people. I missed it so much! All of it.

“Oh Dean, you're making me the happiest girl in the world.”

He laughed: “Oh dear, I hear this pretty often.”

What was the last time I saw a billboard with LED lights?

It took us a while to find a parking space and finally to stand in front of a bar. At first it didn't look like anything. I even tried to remember when I had my last tetanus vaccination.

But when we got inside we stood in a very cozy place. Dark red curtains hung on the walls, while the light provided a pleasant atmosphere.

Dean and I chose one of the dark leather sofas that I'm sure has seen quite a few butts in it’s life.

It was so soft!

Excited, I grabbed the drinks menu from the small table in front of us. I spent so many weeks in the bunker, this trip was just liberating.

“Dean, this is so awesome!” I thanked him again. “Do you already know, what do you want to drink?”

He laughed quietly. “Dunno. Couldn’t look in the menu yet.”

It didn't take long for the two of us to place our orders. Just as the waitress left, I turned to Dean.

“Hey erm…” I cleared my throat. “I know, I've been saying it the whole time, but now again, calmly and seriously: Thank you very much Dean.”

I let my gaze wander around the bar and put the next words in my head. A mildly sigh escaped my lips.

“And I know you are doing this, just because you feel sorry for me.”

I paused and raised my hands defensively: “Which is fine! Really! Oh dear... What I actually want to say is… You are a good friend, Dean.”

Something in Deans face changed and he began to look at me like only his brother normally does.

“Do you really think so? For the last time: I’m here with you, because I want to. No lost bet or anything else.”

He rubbed his face, puffing.

“You just think too much.” He stopped while the waitress brought us our drinks.

He grabbed his glas and raised it: “Promise me one thing. Don’t worry about anything tonight and just… have fun.”

A warm smile laid on his lips.

“Promise.” I agreed and toasted my glass.

Some drinks later I was much more relaxed. I completely forgot that I could laugh heartily.

Not a thought has been wasted on the end of the world. There was only this moment. Like a little safespace.

In front of me was no longer Dean Winchester the hunter, but a good friend.

Someone you like to be around. I felt good.

“Hey you two, can I do something good for you?” The waitress asked very friendly.

Dean waved with his empty glass and ordered another round for us.

Toughfully I looked at him: “We already had a lot of drinks. Don’t you have to drive? Cause I can’t anymore.”  

He looked at me thoughtfully.

“Yeah… you’re right. But I don’t want to go yet.”

Dean paused.

“I like it here.” He said with a smirking face.

I leaned back quite drunk: “However, a normal cola couldn't hurt. Otherwise you have to hold my hair later.”

We decided to take a motel afterwards near the bar.

“...you had to see Sammy's face! He was so pissed!”

Dean told about his poor brother. Siblings were the best and the worst at the same time.

“That’s mean.” I commented. “Hilarious, but mean.”

A lot more drinks later we just fooled around. At first I didn't notice that we were sitting very close together, only when Dean put his hand on my knee.

I looked down confused, but let him do it.

When was the last time something like this happened to me? Way too long! Then I thought about WHO was actually sitting next to me. And winced.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked unexpectedly softly while not moving his hand.

I huffed. Not that I was uncomfortable, it was just... new.

My cheeks literally glowed. Slightly nervous I smiled at him.

“No. Erm wait. Yes. I’m okay. Yeah.”

Accidentally my eyes stuck on his lips. His so perfectly formed lips.

Have they always looked so soft?

I forced myself off Dean's forbidden beautiful lips, only to sink into his eyes.

Now I knew how a moth felt in the face of the moon.

“I am really glad that you are here with me.” His voice was more like a breath.

We both leaned forward a little at the same time. Barely noticeable.

My heart jumps right into my throat. I knew what was about to happen, but my insecurity cut it off.

Why did I fool myself into this situation? Dean Winchester would never. Especially not with me. That’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous!

Suddenly Dean brushed a lost strand of hair from my face and gently ran his finger down behind the ear until it reached the chin. There he paused.

The skin he touched felt electrified. My goosebumps had goosebumps!

“Don’t think too much. Remember?”, he taught me.

His voice forced me out of my head and back into the bar. Back to his eyes.

I wasn’t able to say anything. So I just nodded.

The hand went back up from the chin. Very slowly. Stroking my cheek and sliding in my hair.

His touches calmed me.

He got to the back of my head, slowly pulled me towards him.

When our lips touched a switch inside me flipped. I was no longer able to think anything up, just let myself go. While his scent settled in my nose and seemed to rise into my head.

The lips were much softer than I could have dreamed of. They tasted a little like whiskey.

My eyes closed all by themselves and my body leaned itself towards. Even my tongue had developed a life of its own and began to ask for entrance very carefully. Just to be met by Deans.

I put my hand on the back of his neck and moved down. Resting at his chest.

All of a sudden I became aware of what I was doing. And with whom.

Against my own will, I broke the kiss and only brought as much distance as necessary between us.

“We probably shouldn't be doing this.” I lied to myself, but not moving my hand from his chest.

Dean sighed heavy: “Would you just stop saying this?”

Barely pronounced the last words, he pulled me into an intense kiss again.

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

Peter fluff? Be creative lol

Alrighty then 😂

Record Shopping with Peter

- Since he can steal anything he wants he doesn’t really see the appeal in actually shopping and taking the time to do it. That is until he meets you.

- You have a collection of vinyl, and it’s not a very big one but it’s a pretty good size. Peter tells you he could get you any album you want whenever you want but you just shake your head and laugh at him

- You have to explain to him the appeal of looking through all the albums by hand and the excitement that comes with finding something you really like. Taking the time to really look at all the cover art and just explore.

- He always like to see you happy so for y’all’s next date he takes you out record shopping. It means so much that he’s willing to try something he’s not used to.

- You would hold his hand tightly dragging him into the store as he pretend that he’s literally going to die of boredom. But he comes in after you give him a quick kiss on his cheek.

- He immediately thinks you’re going to go to the back display where everything is categorized, you surprise him by kneeling down under the cases and pulling out these ratty cardboard boxes.

-He kneels down next to you and asks what you’re doing. You tell him that all the record down here are half off because they’re not as new as the ones on the shelf.

-He asks you why you’d want someone’s used junk and you playfully hit him. You tell him the ones that are down here have more character, you can tell they are well loved. The ones on the shelf were sold back to the store with the intention to make money. They were probably never even listened to. But the ones down here, that’s a whole other story.

- You pull out an old Elvis album and it has writing scribbled on the cover. A little love poem and a dedication. You gush at the sentiment and set it aside with the intention to buy it.

- As you guys spend more time in the store Peter starts to understand why you love it so much. He’ll rifle through the boxes and when he finds an album he thinks you’ll like he’ll show it to hesitantly. His heart absolutely soaring when you say that you’ve been looking for that one forever! You’ll tackle him in a hug and his heart will melt.

- You guys decide to look for albums for each other and not tell teach other what they are until you get home. You find him two albums, one Pink Floyd and one Fleetwood Mac

- He finds you a Partridge family record and the Ramones.

- You guys also check out the cassettes and you surprise him by buying him a couple new ones for his Walkman. He returns the favor, even after you insisted he didn’t have to, by buying you ice cream after.

- When you guys leave the store it’s already dark outside. He can’t believe he spent all day in there, doing something he thought he absolutely hated. But you made him realize that some things in life are worth slowing down for

- You guys head back to his moms house and hang out in the basement.

-The records you bought for each other taking turns playing on the record player. The pop and crackle of the old vinyl being comforting as you lay in each other’s arms on his bed.

- Him resting in between your legs his head laying on your chest. You run your hands through his soft hair his eyes closing at the feeling. You feel yourself slowly falling asleep to the soft music and atmosphere. Peter pressing himself closer to you the soft thumping of your heartbeat putting him at ease. And as he drifts to sleep in your arms.

Y’all going record shopping with Peter would be a dream come true! I always have to go alone since no one ever wants to go with me cause I always spend forever in there. I just know looking for albums with Peter would be amazing! I hope you like it!!

[waywardaardvark79]

No Strings Attached Part 7: Road Trip

Summary: Your roommates old friend moves to town and the two of you quickly strike up a no strings attached relationship. How long will the two of you be able to hold up what was supposed to be a simple, uncomplicated arrangement?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: language, smut

A/N: Updates should be every few days. No set schedule.

             "You sure you got enough stuff?" Dean asked as he walked into your room to see you sitting on top of an over filled suitcase trying to zip it up. 

You glanced over to your closet, "Shit, I might need a few more things." you said, suddenly questioning everything that you had packed.

 Dean looked down at the two bags that were laying at the foot of your bed, "You know that we're gonna be back Sunday." he said as he watched you desperately pull at the zipper.

 "You're right. It's not enough." you said in a panic as you jumped off your bag and raced to your closet, furiously flinging clothes around. Dean watched as you tossed clothes over your shoulder, mumbling nonsense under your breath.

 He stepped to your side, placed his hands on your shoulders and spun you around to face him, "I'm gonna need you to take a deep breath, and calm down." he said.

 You rolled your eyes, "I'm calm. I'm the fucking definition of calm. You look up calm in the dictionary and there's my picture." you argued. 

"Well, you sure fooled me. What are you so worried about?" he asked, afraid that you were regretting your decision to tag along with him.

 "I'm not worried. It's just I feel all this pressure, and I have to make sure I have options." you explained.

 "Pressure? Options? What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, more confused by your reply.

 You grabbed his hands and removed them from your shoulders before spinning around and digging back through your closet, "The whole point of me going on this trip is to basically show up your ex. So, I need to look amazing, and most of my clothes are jeans and ridiculous thrift store t-shirts, so yeah I may be freaking out a little. No, I lied. I may be freaking out a lot." you ranted as you pulled a t-shirt from your closet and waved it in Dean's face. "What am I supposed to do waltz in there in this, and be like oh, yeah I know you're jealous." you said as you shook the t-shirt back and forth.

 Dean grabbed the shirt from your hands, and held it up so he could read it, "There's no place I'd rather be than beaver valley." he read out, trying to suppress his smile.  "If it's stressing you out this much  you don't have to come." he said, silently praying that you wouldn't agree.

 "No." you said, stomping your foot dramatically to the ground, "I promised you an amazing fake girlfriend experience, and I'm going to deliver God damn it." you said poking your finger into his chest, emphasizing your point.

 Dean sighed, "You're overthinking it. You always look good." he said genuinely. 

"Oh, really? Did I look good last night when I was sitting on the couch watching Golden Girls in my underwear, polishing off a side of ribs?" you sarcastically asked.

 "You've never looked better. It actually took my breath away." Dean teased.

 "Oh, I'll take your fuckin' breath away, Freckles." you grumbled before walking back over to your bed, and throwing yourself down on it, sighing dramatically. Dean stepped up to the foot of the bed, looking down at you with a smile. You ran your hands over your face, "I think that's the solution to our problem. I kill you, then we don't have to go at all." you said.

 "Why do you constantly threaten me with murder? I thought you liked me?" he asked, feigning hurt. 

You shrugged your shoulders, "You're ok, I guess." you mumbled, your mood soured by your lack of presentable clothes.

 "You're ok, I guess, the words every fake boyfriend longs to hear." he teased as he nudged you over to make room for him to lay down.

 "Yeah, I'm  basically a Hallmark card." you shot back.

 "Y/N." Dean said, trying to get you to look at him, but you turned your head in the opposite direction. "Y/N." he tried again, causing you to cross your arms over your chest. "All right, you asked for it." he said, as he rolled on top of you, grabbing your arms, and pinning them above your head.

 "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" you asked.

 "Getting you to pay attention to me." he said.

 You chuckled, "Not gonna work." you said as you squeezed your eyes shut and started to loudly hum.

 "Y/N, you're being childish." he said.

 "No....hmmmm...I'm ....hmmmm.....not." you hummed out.

 Dean rolled his eyes at you, "You are worrying over stupid shit that doesn't matter. Would you just talk to me?" he asked.

 "I'm sorry, Y/N is in the middle of a crisis right now and can't come to the phone, I would say leave a message, and she'll call you back, but she's shit at returning calls so try again later." you said in an overly cheerful voice before closing your eyes and resuming your humming. You felt Dean's tongue lick a long wet strip up the side of your face, causing your eyes to pop open. "Did you just lick my fucking face? Who's childish now? " you asked, as Dean stared down at you. 

"You wouldn't listen so I had to resort to drastic measures." he said, echoing your own words you had used when you pushed him out of bed back to you. 

You sighed dramatically, "Fine, I'm listening." you said.

 "I know you think you have to deliver this Oscar worthy performance, but just the fact that you're gonna be there is good enough for me." he said.

 "What if I embarrass you. I'm not exactly the take home to mom girl." you said, in a small voice. Dean's heart broke a little at your words. He had never seen you so unsure of yourself. You normally radiated confidence.

 "You could never embarrass me." he sincerely said, his words bringing a smile to your face.

"Don't challenge me, Freckles." you replied, a little of your old self peeking through.

 Dean chuckled at your reply, "So, no more freaking out? You good?" he asked.

 "Pfft...I'm fuckin' awesome." you said, Dean laughing out loud at your reply.

 "There's my girl." he said before placing a quick kiss to your lips, and rolling off of you. He pushed himself up off the bed, "I gotta run down to  the garage, and fill Benny in on a few things, and then I'll be back to pick you up. I shouldn't be more than a few hours." he said.

 "I'll be ready." you replied. Dean gave you a smile before walking out the door. You listened, waiting to hear the door to the apartment close before you picked up your phone and dialed, "Charlie, I need your help." you said. 

              Dean walked through the door a few hours later, your two bags and yourself waiting for him on the couch. "You ready?" you asked.

 "Just got to grab my stuff." he said as he walked down the hall to your room, the one bag he had packed ready by the door. 

You heard him making his way back down the hall, "So, I was wondering what car you wanted to take. We could probably fit more stuff in yours." he said.

 You narrowed your eyes at him, "You could literally fit a couple bodies in your trunk. You wouldn't just be suggesting we take mine on the off chance that I might let you drive?" you asked, knowing exactly what he was up to.

 Dean scoffed, "No."

 "You sure?" you asked.

 "I just don't understand why you won't let me drive it." he said.

 "You don't let me drive yours." you shot back

. "Because I've seen how you drive." he replied.

 You rolled your eyes at him, "You're so dramatic. I've gotten us back in one piece every time, haven't I?" you asked as you started to pick up your bags. 

Dean walked to the couch, pushing your hand away as he grabbed both bags. "Barely." he said under his breath as he walked to the door. You followed behind him, stepping out into the hall and locking the door behind you.

 The two of you walked downstairs into the lobby, Dean pouting because you wouldn't let him drive. You pushed open the door and held it for him, his arms currently full, and made your way to the car. Dean opened the passenger side door and placed the bags in the backseat. "Hey." you called out, catching his attention. You tossed him your keys, "I don't want to be stuck in the car with your grumpy ass all day." you said as you walked around the front of the car.

 Dean was smiling ear to ear as he practically raced to the driver's side before you could change your mind. You climbed in, closing the door behind you, tossing your bag down at your feet. Dean slid in behind the wheel, running his hands gently over it, "I've been wanting to do this for so long." he quietly said. 

"Do I need to step out and give you a minute." you teased. 

"Joke all you want, I don't care, nothing you say is gonna ruin this." he replied as he cranked the engine.

 You pulled your camera from your bag and snapped a picture, "I don't think I've ever seen you so excited." you said, your smile mirroring his as you let the top down.

 Dean smiled over at you, "Ready?" he asked. 

"Hit it, Freckles." you replied before Dean spun out of the parking lot. 

                   The two of you had been driving for a few hours, talking, laughing, and singing along to your ridiculous road trip playlist you had made. You turned down the music, "How much longer?" you asked.

 "Should be there in about an hour." Dean replied.

 "So, we have some time to spare, then?" you asked as you looked down at your phone.

 Dean glanced over at you, "Yeah, why?" he asked.

 "And you said that we were going to Lawrence?" you asked.

 Dean nodded, unsure of what you were getting at, "I did." he said.

 "Do you think we could make a little uh, detour before we get to your parent's place?" you asked.

 "Just spit it out." he said.

 "It says they have a Museum of Odd there, and I really want to go. It says it has Elvis' underwear, Bob Barker's toothbrush, and a couch with 350 sock monkeys piled on it." you excitedly rambled out.

 "You're completely serious aren't you?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer.

 "Uh, duh, I mean, who wouldn't want to see that?" you asked.

 "Most people, Y/N, most people." Dean replied, a smile on his face.

 "Well, I'm not most people." you said.

 Dean reached over and patted your thigh, "I know." he said, a soft smile on his face. 

"So, can we go?" you asked?

 Dean glanced over at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road, "Let's go see some underwear and sock monkeys." he replied.

 You beamed over at him, "Not just any underwear, Elvis' underwear." you said.

 "Well, let's go see Elvis' underwear then." he said, a smile on his face as he thought about how insane that sentence sounded, but when he looked over at, your face lit up in a bright smile, he knew that no matter how insane he thought it was, he would go see Elvis' underwear a thousand times just to make you smile. 

              The two of you pulled up outside of a small, slightly run down looking house. "I thought you said this was a museum?" Dean asked.

 "It is." you said as you opened your door and eagerly scrambled out, Dean quickly following after you. 

You started to head for the door, an excited bounce in your step, but Dean reached out and grabbed your wrist, "Are you sure?" he asked, "Cause it looks a little sketchy." he finished.

 "Yes, I'm sure. This guy runs it out of his house. I already messaged him and told him we were coming, tours are by appointment only." you said.

 "Yeah, I can see why. He's probably gonna lure us inside, kill us, and then add our bodies to his collection." Dean argued.

 "I wonder if I could get him to add my body to the sock monkey couch?" you sarcastically asked.

 Dean rolled his eyes at you, "Seriously, Y/N?" he asked.

 "Look, if we go in here and end up being added to this guys weird collection, I'll never ask you to do anything again." you said.

 "Yeah, I know because we will be DEAD." Dean said emphasizing the word.

You dramatically sighed, "I know that Dean, I'm not an idiot. Obviously, I meant when our spirits are trapped inside that museum for all eternity, I won't ask you to do anything. Ghost me won't ask you to do a damn thing since I was the reason we died." you said.

 "Well, obviously. I mean, how could that not have been my first thought." Dean sassed. 

You placed your hands on your hips, "You done?" you asked. Dean took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes. "What are you doing?" you asked impatiently.

 "Preparing for my death." he said as he cracked one eye open at you. 

You grabbed his hand and started to pull him towards the door, "Don't worry, Freckles. I won't let anything happen to you." you teased. 

                    You and Dean stood in front of a couch, covered in sock monkeys. "So, that's what a couch with 350 sock monkeys looks like." you said as you raised your camera and snapped yet another picture.

 "Did it live up to your expectations?" he asked.

 "It actually surpassed them." you replied, completely serious as you walked out of the room. You thanked the owner again for the tour and walked out the front door, Dean by your side.

 "That was..." Dean started.

 "Fucking awesome." you finished.

 "Not what I was going to say, but sure, let's go with fuckin' awesome." he said. 

"It was, and we didn't die." you said, wiggling your eyebrows at him as you opened your door and slid inside. 

Dean climbed inside and started the engine. You grabbed a pair of sunglasses and popped them on, "I know you didn't want to go, but thanks for taking me." you said.

 "I actually had a pretty good time." Dean said as he pulled away from the curb.

 "See, it was a good idea after all." you replied. 

Dean just smiled over at you before focusing his attention back on the road, not telling you that he didn't give a damn about the sock monkeys or the famous underwear, he only cared about making you happy. 

           Dean pulled into the driveway of his parent's house. "So, this is it?" you asked, nervously drumming your fingers on the seat.

 "This is it." he said as he turned off the engine. You pulled in a shaky breath, the confidence you had mustered earlier completely fading. You swallowed around the lump in your throat. "Hey, everything is gonna be fine." Dean said, noticing the panicked look in your eye. 

"We don't have a backstory." you spit out

. "What?" he asked.

 "You know a cute backstory. I'm not just gonna walk in there and be like oh, we had sex the first night we met, didn't even know each others last name, and I was kinda iffy on what his first name was, and we been bangin' ever since." you rambled out.

 "Yeah, maybe don't say it like that." Dean said.

 "You're not helping." you replied.

 "Just tell them we met through Charlie. It's not a lie and you don't have to construct an elaborate backstory. Also, probably wouldn't say anything about us bangin'." Dean teased.

 "Well fuck, there went my opener." you sassed

. "Just be yourself and they'll love you." Dean said as he opened the door and got out.

 You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, "You got this, Y/N." you whispered to yourself as you plastered a smile on your face and got out of the car. You grabbed one of your bags from Dean, "You ready?" he asked.

 "I pretty much feel like I want to run away or puke so, I guess I'm good to go." you replied as you followed Dean to the door. 

            Dean pushed open the door, gesturing for you to go inside first, before following after you. "Mom! Dad! We're here!" he yelled.

 A few moments later a pretty blonde woman stepped into the room, a huge smile on her face as she pulled Dean into a hug. "I'm so happy you're home, sweetheart." she said as she pulled back from him, giving him a good look over. You remained silent swaying back and forth on your feet a little, her attention suddenly focusing on you. "And you must be Y/N. I'm Mary.  It's so good to meet you. We were so happy when Dean told us he was bringing you along. We couldn't wait to meet you with the way he talks about you." she said before pulling you into a hug. 

"He talks about me?" you asked. 

Mary pulled back and looked at you a little funny, "Of course he does. You're practically all we have heard about since he moved." she said. 

You glanced over at Dean, his cheeks a bright shade of red as he cleared his throat, "Mom, where do you want us to put our bags?" He asked quickly trying to change the subject.

 "You guys can put your stuff in your old room." she said.

 "I'll just go up there first and make room for everything." Dean said as he started to head towards the stairs, you starting after him. "Just give me a minute." he said to you.

 You raised your eyebrows, "And miss out on whatever embarrassing things you are trying to hide? I don't think so, Freckles. I mean, Dean." you corrected, trying not to embarrass him with the nick name that you graced him with.

 Mary gave the two of you a knowing smile, "Your dad and Sam should be back soon. You guys go get settled." she said as she started to head into what you guessed was the kitchen. The two of you started up the stairs, "I'll let you know when they get back, Freckles." she called out.

 You stopped in your tracks, "Fuck, I'm sorry. It just kind of slipped." you said. "Kind of blowing it already, ain't I?" you asked.

 Dean chuckled, "No, I think you're gonna fit right in." he said.

 The two of you rounded the corner and Dean opened the door to his childhood bedroom, ushering you inside. "I thought I was going to walk in here and see something embarrassing." you said, as you looked around, spotting nothing out of the ordinary. You flopped down on the bed, "This is gonna be a tight fit." you said referring to the twin sized bed.

 Dean wiggled his eyebrows at you, "Guess, you'll just have to sleep on top of me." he said.

 "Oh no, don't even go there. We are not doing anything at your parent's house." you said, quickly sitting up. 

"What? Why not?" Dean whined.

 "Because I said so." you stated.

 Dean stalked over to you, "You're gonna have to do better than that." he said.

 "Because they will hear us, and I want them to like me. I kind of thought that was the reason I was here." you said. 

"So, we'll be quiet." Dean said as he pushed you back down on the bed, his arms caging you in as he hovered over you

. "Yeah, when have we ever done that? Your charm isn't going to work on me, Freckles." you said, obviously lying.

 Dean placed a gentle kiss to your lips, "You sure?" he asked.

 "Yeah, I'm sure." you said as Dean started to trail kisses down your neck.

 "Still sure?" he asked.

 You let out a shaky breath, "Yep." you breathed out.

 Dean shifted his weight, his free hand tracing circles just under the hem of your shirt as he kissed his way back up your neck, "Still sure?" he asked.

 "Not so much." you said, feeling him smile against your skin.

 "Maybe we can take a drive after the rehearsal dinner tonight." he suggested. 

"After the rehearsal?" you asked

. "If that's ok with you." he said.

 "I was kind of thinking right now, but I guess after rehearsal will do." you replied, Dean breaking out into a laugh before getting up.

 "And you said my charm wouldn't work on you." he said as he held out a hand to help you up.

 "Don't get cocky, Freckles." you warned, as he pulled you to your feet. 

         The two of you were half way down the stairs when the front door opened, "Dean." you heard someone say.

 "Sammy." Dean replied before rushing the rest of he way down the stairs and engulfing the giant into a hug.

 "It's good to see you, man." Sam said as he patted Dean on the back before pulling back.

 "Dad." Dean said to the man behind Sam. You watched as they quickly embraced, deciding to keep your place in the background, not wanting to interrupt the moment. 

Dean's dad made eye contact with you and you smiled at him as you made your way to the bottom of the stairs. "Think you forgot to introduce us to someone." he said.

 "Oh, sorry. Dad, Sam this is." Dean started. 

"Y/N." the man said with a bright smile as he stepped up to you, holding out his hand for you to shake. "John." he said, as you shook his hand.

 "Nice to meet you, John." you replied.

 "Is that your car out front?" he asked.

 "Yep, it's all mine." you said.

 "It's a real beauty. What year is it?" he asked.

 "'54." you replied.

 John nodded his head, a low sound of approval coming from his throat. "I can see why this one is  so taken with you. You know he talks about you all the time." he said before turning to Dean, "You said she was pretty son, but I think you sold her short." John said.

 "Dad!" Dean barked out

. "Aww...I think you're pretty too, Dean." you said, Sam and John erupting into laughter.

 "I like her. She's a keeper." John said to Dean.

 "Hi, I'm Sam." Sam greeted as he offered his hand to you.

 "Nice to meet you, Sam." you replied straining your neck to look up at him.

 "He really does talk about you all the time. I sorta feel like I know you." he said.

 "Guys, please." Dean pleaded. 

"You two get in here and lend me a hand, and quit embarrassing Dean." Mary yelled from the kitchen.

 "Guess, we're in trouble." John said as he gave Sam a gentle shove towards the kitchen.

 You watched them walk away, a smile on your face, before walking over to Dean. "So, you talk about me all the time, huh." you said.

 Dean sighed, "God, they make me sound like a creepy stalker." he said.

 You raised your hand and pinched his cheek, "At least you're a cute, creepy stalker." you said, Dean  rolling his eyes at you and trying to hide his smile

. Sam poked his head into the room, "Just wanted to let you guys know that we're gonna head out in like an hour." he said before ducking back into the kitchen.

 "We better go get ready." you said as  you linked your arm with his and started back up the stairs. 

                  "Y/N!" Dean called out as he knocked on the bathroom door, "Come on. We gotta go." he finished.

 "Just a minute." you said, checking yourself over in the mirror once more, completely out of your comfort zone. You grabbed the door knob, took a deep breath, and pulled the door open.

 "I thought we were gonna be....." Dean trailed off as he took you in. Your hair hung down in loose curls, your make up simple, yet elegant, the long, laced sleeve burgundy dress that stopped just above your knees fit you like a glove.

 Dean was standing in front of you in black dress pants, and a crisp long sleeved white dress shirt, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. You looked down at the dress, and sighed, "I knew it. I never should have let them talk me into this one. It's stupid. I look stupid." you said.

 "No, no, no, no, you look...you...you're beautiful." Dean choked out

. A smile lit up your face and you looked down at the dress, "Really?" you asked

. Dean swallowed before nodding his head, "Really." he said. 

"I just got to grab my shoes and I'll be ready to go." you said as you walked across the hall into Dean's room. Dean followed you, grabbing his jacket from the back of the desk chair, and sliding it on. You looked up at him from the edge of the bed as you put on your heels. "You look really good, too." you said as you stood up.

 Dean offered his arm to you, "You ready?" he asked. 

"Let's go Freckles." you said with a smile as the two of you started out of the room. 

               You sat by Mary's side at the rehearsal, Dean being Sam's best man meant that he was busy, and he was sure to voice his complaints to his brother. "I just really don't understand why we have to practice walking. I mean, you put one foot in front of the other. How hard is that?" Dean asked. 

"Because Jess said we needed a rehearsal." Sam said, trying to be patient with his brother. "Just like if Y/N asked you to have one,  I know you would do it." Sam finished.

 "That's the thing though, Y/N would never ask me to do this." Dean said. 

Sam sighed, "Ok, fine, but my point is if she asked you to do something you would do it to make her happy." Sam said. Dean looked over at you, your hands gesturing wildly as his mom laughed at whatever you were telling her, and smiled. "You don't even have to say anything. I can tell by the way you look at her." Sam said as he slapped Dean on the back. "Now get back to your spot." he ordered. 

         Dean slid into the spot next to you, "Finally." he breathed out causing you to chuckle. 

"You all done?" you asked.

 "Yes. I still don't understand the point of it. I mean, it's just walking." he grumbled. 

"Well, if it makes you feel any better you looked really good out there, superb walking." you said, the corner of your mouth turning up.

 Dean chuckled, "So, my walking looked good?" he teasingly asked.

 "Are you kidding me? You were the best walker out there. 10 out of 10, I would totally watch you walk again." you said, Dean's shoulders shaking with laughter

. Dean pulled you closer to him and placed a gentle kiss to your lips, "I'm really glad you came." he whispered against them.

 "I'm always good for comic relief." you said.

 Dean tucked a curl behind your ear, "I can think of plenty of other things you are good for." he said, causing you to swat his chest.

"Don't start that here. None, of that is allowed until after we leave here." you said. 

Dean glanced down at his watch, "I did the practice walk. Let's get out of here." he said as he grabbed your hand.

 "Yeah, and what are we gonna tell everybody?" you asked.

 Dean looked around, "They won't even notice we're gone." he said.

 You glanced around the room and shrugged your shoulders, "What the hell. Let's go." you said as you started to stand up, Dean quickly jumping up and pulling you to your feet.  "Jesus, Dean, slow down." you hissed as he dragged you behind him. 

"Sorry." he said as he slowed his steps. "It's just you in that dress is hard to take." he said glancing back at you as he pulled you through the door.

 "Car. Now." you said, tempted to kick off your heels so you could walk faster.

 You squeaked when Dean scooped you up bridal style, and took off to the car, "I've waited long enough." he said. 

            Dean placed you on your feet by the passenger side door, his body pressed to yours, as his lips met yours in a hungry kiss. You broke the kiss, "Get in and drive." you demanded. 

 "Drive?" he asked.

 "We are not doing this in the parking lot of a church." you said

. "I'll ask for forgiveness, problem solved." he replied

. "Drive." you ordered. Dean quickly pushed himself from you and ran around the side of the car, practically jumping behind the wheel.

 "Get a move on, sweetheart." he said as you opened the door and slid inside. Dean cranked the engine and peeled out of the parking lot. 

You raised your hips off the seat and worked your panties down your legs, quickly kicking your heels off and pulling them the rest of the way off. You tossed them into Dean's lap, a low moan sounding from his throat, "You're killin' me." he said. 

You slid over in the seat until you were pressed to his side, "I haven't even done anything yet." you purred into Dean's ear. He started to look over at you, "Eyes on the road." you warned before pulling his ear lobe into your mouth and giving it a teasing bite causing Dean to whimper. You scooted back into the seat, giving yourself room to lay down.

 You worked your way onto your stomach, your head hovering over Dean's lap. "Whatcha doin', sweetheart?" Dean anxiously asked.

 "You'll see." you said as your hand worked open his belt, quickly popping the button on his dress pants, and easing down his zipper. Dean sucked in a quick breath when he felt you free him from his pants, "Looks like someone is happy to see me." you said before reaching out with your tongue and giving him a teasing lick.

 "It's not nice to tease." Dean rasped out as you slowly pumped him up and down. 

"Well, I'm not very nice." you said, twisting your wrist as you went over the head of his cock

. "Y/N." Dean pleaded, his voice dripping with desperation. You took him into your mouth slowly working your way down, taking him as deep as you could while you ran your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock. You hollowed your cheeks as you made your way back up and released him with a wet pop.

 Dean's hands were white knuckling the wheel as you took him back into your mouth, increasing your pace a little and swallowing around him when he hit the back of your throat. "Fuck." Dean moaned, his head thrown back causing the car to swerve a little.

 You popped up, "You wreck my car, it'll be the last thing you ever do." you warned.

 Dean pulled to the side of the road, looking in both directions to make sure the road was clear before pulling you into his lap, "I can't wait anymore." he said as he hiked up your dress.

 Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of Dean's shirt, not being able to take it off all the way, but having the need to feel his skin. You raised yourself up the best you could, the limited space not allowing you much movement.  You placed your hands on Dean's shoulders, whining when you felt him rub himself through your folds, coating himself in your slick. "It isn't nice to tease." you said, throwing his own words back at him, as you plunged yourself down onto his cock, the two of you moaning when your body met  his.

 Dean tangled his hands in your hair, pulling you to him in bruising kiss. You knew that you didn't have much time being out in the open like this so you set a fast pace, pulling yourself almost completely off of him before slamming back down.

 The two of you were panting, moans and the slapping of skin against skin filling the car as you repeatedly slammed yourself down on him. The windows of the car were completely fogged over, your thighs beginning to shake with your efforts. Dean's hands gripped your hips as he started to thrust up into you, one of your hands bracing against the top of the car to keep your head from hitting it. "Oh, fuck, right there." you moaned as Dean's cock pounded away at your g-spot.

 You felt his grip on your hip loosen as he brought his thumb to your clit rubbing fast, hard circles against it. "Come on baby, I know you're close." he said, as he pounded into you relentlessly. He pulled you down harshly to him, the feeling of him pulsing inside you and the pressure he was putting on your clit, sending you over the edge. 

You arched your back, as Dean worked you through your orgasm. "Oh, fuck." you panted, your heart racing.

 The flash of oncoming headlights caught Dean's attention, "Baby, as much as I don't want you to, you have to move." he said, motioning to the oncoming car. You worked your way out of his lap, and plopped down next to him, searching for your panties while Dean started the car. 

                 He pulled up into the driveway of his parent's house, their car in the driveway. "I was hoping we would get back before they did." you said as you attempted to straighten your hair.

 Dean buckled his belt and climbed out of the car, grabbing your panties from the floorboard and tossing them to you. "Thanks." you said as you managed to wiggle into them.

 You climbed out of the car, your hands smoothing your dress as the two of you made your way to the door. Dean opened it as quietly as he could, hoping that the two of you could sneak in, but Mary was making her way down the stairs. "I was wondering where you two snuck off to." she said, a knowing smile on her face.

 "We, uh, just went for a drive." Dean said, not making eye contact with her as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the stairs. 

Mary stopped on the last step, "You missed a button." she said, pointing to Dean's shirt, her smile growing wider. Dean just nodded, unable to say anything at the moment. "Goodnight, kids." Mary called out. 

"Goodnight." you said. 

"Night, Mom." Dean choked out, the tips of his ears a little red.

 He pushed open the door to his room, pulling you inside, and quickly closing the door. He kicked off his shoes,  shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over the chair before slipping out of his pants.

 You made your way to your bag, grabbed something to sleep in before kicking off your heels, and slipping off your dress. "I really should take a shower, but I'm so tired." you said as you pulled the t-shirt over your head and plopped down on the bed.

 "We can do it in the morning." Dean said as he nudged you to scoot over. 

"I don't think we're both gonna fit." you said as you scooted to the edge of the bed.

 Dean turned on his side, and pulled you back against him, "There, now you have more room." he said as he tangled his legs with yours, his arm laying over your waist.

 You snuggled into him, "I had a good time today. Your family is really nice." you said.

 "They all love you, you know. I don't know what you were so worried about." he said before yawning.

 "Get some sleep, Freckles." you yawned out

. "Night, Y/N." Dean said as he gave you a gentle squeeze, the two of you drifting off to sleep not long after. 

[xhudgenssistersconfessions]

Austin must’ve really hurt V... you can just tell by the way she is acting on social media at least... (not judging her, I love it actually that she’s more active) .

Okay I'm so mad rn .Vanessa deserves better. Wow I totally had a different opinion about him . Why are men like this? How dare he hurt V like this!She was like his family. She had been there for him for so long. I hate him!!!

Vanessa is too nice for her own good.

Why are people acting like her and Austin just broke up a week ago? They've clearly been broken up for weeks now, since mid December at least. It's not been proven that Austin cheated or has done anything. Unless you were in the bedroom with him when it happened or pictures of him kissing someone from over a month ago comes out, then we don't know for certain. So let's give Austin a little ounce of credit here and the benefit of the doubt, before slandering his name and talking shit.

I don’t how true are these sources but if it is true and austin did cheated on her then that guy never deserves this fame he has . V really put so much into relationship like doing less projects staying by his side and definitely increased his circle to make contacts but now he is bigger star than her he decided to cheat and leave. Girl literally put a hold on her projects and given so much into relationships. Time to unfollow austin.

I am so disgusted. V doesn't deserve to be treated like this. She is so positive and literally has no mean bone at all. This is hurting me personally I swear. After all the support she gave him for years this is how you treat her! If the rumors are true I am glad she cut him out ,he deserves no confirmation from her . I hope she cuts off a certain bff too.

I can't believe this that girl is my age!!!! I hope V is allright. I kinda relate to her ,I never like to show my real feelings in front of the world. She deserves all the happiness in the world ,not this nonsense.

I am so done with him. I am not a good person like V. I will hate him and stay bitter about this forever.

Literally saw all the articles of Austin cheating and such and I mean to be honest, I’m not doubting it. That picture of his co star wearing his shirt. That’s a little too close for comfort. And going out to dinner multiple times with said co star, a little weird. So yeah Vanessa deserves so much better, especially after all she put into that relationship. Almost a whole decade. It’s just so sad. She deserves some one who chooses her every day and doesn’t get easily tempted.

Vaustin is over for me forever! I don't even want to think about them anymore. The only ex relationship I will forever love is Zanessa and Zanessa only. I feel so bad for V. She was so loving and loyal to Austin. I can't trust men anymore.

Can't believe I wasted my time being sad over her breakup. So glad V didn't make my mistake being hung over him lol.

IF Austin cheated I hope it gets widely reported on bc man think he got away with it bc there's no pap pics, also if V doesn't know she deserves to so he can get wrecked

I know the cheating rumours are rumours but this has come from a few sources now, so I'm pretty convinced he did cheat

I think Austin didn’t necessarily cheat BUT the Elvis movie production are going to use the rumors for PR for the movie

It's clear Austin cheated. I don't know why it hard to believe for some. Yeah, there may be no photo proof, but there has been several sightings. Australia isn't like LA to have people up their butts to see what they are doing. If it wasn't true, I wouldn't think all these cheating confessions wouldn't be going around from people and sources. I was confuse on how well Vanessa is handling the breakup, but now I understand why. She literally not taking his shit and showing who's boss.

I personally think its unlikely not to be true since there's the YouTube comment and the video that said they booked into hotel room together

Until something is confirmed, I'm not gonna jump to conclusions. From what I've seen in the last 8 years, Austin has always been very respectful and good to Vanessa. So for that, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Plus, he doesn't seem like that kind of person. The way he talked about her, the way he showed his love for her, that says something to me. So I personally just don't believe the rumors. Cheating is a serious allegation and people have different opinions on what that is.

If this rumor about Austin didn't start I'd be thinking about this Kuz thing. But this literally means so small to me now . I cannot accept the fact that someone can hurt V like this. Seriously I hate him so much!

I swear if it was Vanessa with all the cheating rumors she would have got so much hate. Just because he is a guy he is allowed too. People got the nerves to drag Vanessa for a date. This so disturbing.

If Austin cheated on her I’m so disappointed. She gave him all her love and attention the last 9 years. She literally suggested that he should play Elvis. And how does he pay her back? By cheating. I remember when everyone praised him because he held a car door open for her.

The hand on leg can look good or bad, depending on a person. But hearing that your boyfriend got a hotel room with a king size bed with another girl? That's a major red flag right there. We aren't hearing anything from Vanessa about the breakup because maybe she doesn't want to admit she got cheated by Austin to her fans. If they were on good terms, I'm pretty sure she would say something about it by now. There were clues and hints adding up. Like seeing his shirt on Olivia, like c'mon now.

Honestly, there is a no win-win battle over what happens to this breakup. Sources say they are on "good terms". There are insights saying Austin has been cheating. Then no confirmation or denying of what's going on. Only thing we could is base this on, is how Vanessa is holding up. She gave us an insight she ready to move on. That says something right there. Austin is in the past now for her clearly. Like someone said, I think she knows what we know.

With all these rumors I'm feeling disgusted even looking at Austin's picture rn. I never shipped them tbh so when they broke up I was just worried about V. I had no interest in their relationship or if they get back together or anything but this rumor is bothering me. This is plain disrespect for the woman who had been there for him through everything. I mean how can he even get away with this and V is the one getting criticised. I seriously hope these rumors are not true.