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hottpinkpenguin · 2 months

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Letting Someone Go - Part 5 (The End!)

Benny Cross X Female Reader part 1 is here! part 2 is here! part 3 is here! part 4 is here! A/n: ahhh it's always so hard to write a satisfying ending. i rlly hope you enjoy it, and i want to thank everyone for reading this series!! i am officially taking Bikeriders requests, so if this story got your mind thinking about what other Benny/Vandals boys content you'd like, feel free to send it my way! Word Count: 3683 Warnings: none for this chapter

You woke up the next morning with a split lip, a black eye, and a hangover. Before even opening your eyes, you knew you were back at Zipco’s house based on the strong Patchouli-incense-over-bourbon smell. Not on the lumpy couch though - you were in his bed. You opened one eye and instantly regretted it: the world started to spin and you barely managed to grab at the wastebasket someone had left by the bedside before you emptied your stomach. You wretched until there was nothing left to come up, just bile and bloody spit. Unwilling to test your vertigo by standing up and walking down the hall to the bathroom, you called out for Zipco in a watery-thin rasp.

“Zip?”

Silence. It seemed like the house was empty. Zipco was many things, but a quiet housemate was not among them. Wherever he went, he was slamming doors, knocking furniture, thumping on the rickety floorboards.

“Zip ain’t here.”

The voice startled you and you whipped your head around - another immediate regret, as it renewed your nausea. Benny was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, smoking a cigarette and watching you closely. He must have slept here, you realized, as you took in the wrinkled tshirt stained with your mascara and blood and his mussed hair.

“Where’s Zip?” you groaned, shutting your eyes in a vain attempt to stop the spinning.

Benny stood up and walked out of the bedroom as he called back to you. “He took Kathy home. I asked him to stay with her for the night, keep an eye on things.”

Kathy. Last night. The memory of that awful night came back to you hard and with a vengeance. You whimpered, pressing your face down on the pillow as if you could blot it out. From down the hall, you heard the sound of Benny rummaging around in the kitchen for a few moments. You willed yourself to focus on that noise and breathe deeply through your nose and out through your mouth.

You felt the mattress give under his weight as he came back and perched on the edge of the bed. “Here.” He handed you a bag of ice, coaxing you to lift your head and place the ice against your swollen lip. He brushed back strands of your hair out of your face with a tenderness you’d never seen from him before.

“Thank you,” you croaked, voice cracking. “For last night. Helping me. For everything.”

He nodded softly and offered you a cup of water. “Try to drink it,” he encouraged. You obeyed, wincing at the bad taste in your mouth and the soreness in your throat as you swallowed. The water settled in your stomach with a cooling rush, and it helped lessen your headache marginally. Benny just kept sitting there, fussing over you like a nursemaid. It was achingly touching, but surprising and strangely intimate. After a few moments, you cleared your throat and forced yourself to sit upright, moving slowly and deliberately so as not to set off the spins again. He helped you prop yourself up against the headboard, one of Zip’s pillows tucked at the small of your back.

“How’s Kathy?” Why you asked that question was anyone’s guess. You were grasping at straws, overwhelmed by Benny’s presence and his assiduous attention to you. You couldn’t care less how Kathy was doing, and you knew you were risking the moment between you two - whatever it was - by bringing her up.

Predictably, Benny’s face crumpled from concern to something harder. He held your gaze with a wary seriousness. “You really wanna know how my wife is right now?”

Wife.

You pursed your lips - bad move, you felt the split open up and fresh blood coat your tongue - and looked down at the water glass in your hand so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes. You hadn’t known Kathy was that to him. You’d never really considered the possibility. Four years is a hell of a long time, a reprimanding voice in your head reminded you. What did you expect?

Why didn’t the guys tell you? A flash of anger at Zipco and Cal and Johnny flared in your chest. It was irrational, you knew, and a displacement of your real pain. The anger fizzled out as quickly as it had come up, leaving you alone with a sinking grief.

Benny must have noticed your reaction. “You didn’t know.” Not a question, an observation. One he must have suspected because you heard the sound of confirmation in his voice. His words didn’t sound unkind, although there was an edge of pity there that you hated. Unable to meet his eyes, you simply shook your head.

“I figured one of the guys told you.”

“Yea, I would’ve figured that too.”

You ran a finger along the lip of the water glass. Anything for a distraction. A thick silence that threatened to bloom into something permanent settled between you.

“Congrats,” you managed with a small, bitter laugh. “How long?”

Benny turned away from you, bracing his hands on his knees and looking at the wall. “Y/n, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” you demanded, embarrassment staining your cheeks. Not only had he just dropped this hundred pound disappointment on you, but now he expected you not to struggle with its weight?

“Hurt yourself,” he replied sadly, turning back to you. His eyes drank you in and caused your breath to tangle in your throat. Once again, you couldn’t hold his gaze, and let your eyes drop to your hands. You knocked that one set of your knuckles were scraped and bruised, and a snippet of memory - men dragging you up a stairwell, you thrashing against them and screaming out for help - smacked you like a freight train. The sob that bubbled in your lungs refused to be stifled.

At the sound of it, Benny stiffened. “I’m sorry. I should’ve left. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’ll go, send Zip back over.”

You looked back up at him and found you could look through him. Talking to the wall behind Benny, you felt your mouth moving as words came pouring out before you fully knew what you wanted to say. “Aight then, Benny, you best get your stuff and get out, then.”

It was the exact same line you’d said to him four years ago when he’d made you tell yourself that he was in love with someone else. Unlike then, this time your words dripped with poison.

He flinched slightly at your words, and you figured that was about as much as you could hope for. Benny Cross was many things, but he would never be the kind of guy who would collapse for a woman. Especially not one that he didn’t love.

For a heartbeat or two, he looked at you while you looked through him. It was a test. Who would break first. Both of you knew the answer. Benny was incapable of breaking. You’d been craving that from him for too long and had been disappointed too many times before to delude yourself now. Benny was going to leave, exactly like you’d told him to. He wasn’t going to argue, or apologize, or ask why you were angry, or stubbornly ignore your dismissal in an attempt to get through to you. He was going to leave because that’s what he did. Although not with Kathy, that vicious inner voice reminded you. Just you.

Right on cue, Benny broke eye contact, hesitating momentarily before standing up from the edge of the bed. Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the chair he’d been sitting in, picked up his leather jacket and threw it on over his shoulders. The icy shell around your heart threatened to thaw as the realization that this might be the last moment you ever saw him overtook you.

He moved to leave without looking back to you, although he did stop at the door.

“Why’d you come back?�� he asked, his voice low and full of something approaching emotion.

“For Brucie’s funeral,” you replied robotically.

You both knew it was a lie. Benny waited, turning slightly so his body was angled towards you, but still not looking up at you.

“What do you want me to say, Benny? That I came back for you? That I stayed away for so long because of you? You already know all that shit.”

He fidgeted with his leather riding gloves methodically, tucking them into the sleeves of his jacket. You’d never known Benny to care about stuff like that. You had the fleeting thought that he was stalling against what you both sensed would be your last goodbye.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled heavily. “I’m sorry for everything.”

And with that, Benny vanished once again from your life, leaving behind that all too familiar ache like a gaping hole in your chest.

***********************

Benny was riding back to Kathy’s apartment when he realized that he didn’t want to. The last thing he wanted was to get an earful from Kathy, although he knew precisely that’s what was waiting for him. An earful for getting involved in another fight over the club, for getting involved with you, and for leaving her behind. He deserved it, but he didn’t want it.

He also didn’t want to turn around and back towards the girl he’d just left, with her face busted up and her spirit broken. All because she’d come back hoping for something from him. All she was going to get was disappointment. That’s all Benny had for anybody else. He’d disappointed Kathy by not being a good husband. He’d disappointed Johnny by not being a good Vandal, not being willing to take over the charter. And he’d disappointed y/n simply by not being good. Most of all, Benny was his own biggest disappointment. He realized, sitting on the back of his bike idling at a light that had long ago turned from red to green, that he wasn’t sure what he’d imagined for his life, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. It wasn’t watching the people around you get hurt, time and time again, all behind your own failures.

So, instead of turning left on 53rd St. to head home, Benny kept going straight on 55th until it linked up with Rte 34 in Naperville. He gassed up in Wyanet and didn’t stop until he hit the Nebraska line. Benny rode west until he got tired of staring at sunsets, and then turned north, meandering up into colder country.

Epilogue

At first, the running theory about what happened was that one of the guys from the night before had found Benny, somehow, on the way back from Zipco’s place and jumped him. Beat the shit out of him, took his bike, dumped him on the side of a road somewhere. Maybe even killed him. But, as weeks turned into months without any news and without a body, a different understanding took hold: Benny Cross had simply left.

Kathy stuck around but drifted steadily further away from the MC. She stopped showing up to Junker’s on Friday nights, stopped hanging out at the Vandals’ house parties, stopped asking Johnny if he’d heard from Benny. You saw her a few times in the years after Benny left, usually at the laundromat or the corner store, somewhere neutral. She never acknowledged you, and you figured that was probably the smart thing to do. There weren’t any words the two of you could exchange that would do anything for either of you. Better just to let sleeping dogs lie. At some point, you saw Kathy Cross for the last time, although you didn’t know it would be the last. Word reached the MC that she’d met some wealthy Cincinnati lawyer in a pop shop and had moved in with him a few weeks later, into some swanky highrise overlooking the Ohio River. You had a suspicion that Kathy’s days of logging time on the back of a bike were over.

While Kathy exited the Vandals’ scene, you found yourself quickly at the center of the club. You and Zipco decided after a few months that you made great friends, but shit roommates. You moved into your own place a few blocks down from Junker’s and opened a body shop for bikes with the money your daddy left you in the will. Your first employee was Cal, and your first customer was Johnny. From that day forward, the Vandals MC kept your business buzzing and your books balanced. You named the shop Cross Roads Bikes. Customers who didn’t know you asked why “cross roads” was two separate words; usually, you just told them that you’d been drunk when you filled out the business license application and had put a space in there by accident. Customers who knew you didn’t need to ask what happened.

In spite of that, somewhere along the way you woke up one day and realized that this was the closest you’d been to happy in a long long time, maybe ever. It struck you as strange, because since the day you’d met him, you’d only seen happiness as part of your future if Benny was in it. Yet, here you were: happy (ish) and Benny-less. Funny how the world works.

You didn’t know why Benny took off or where he’d gone, but you did know one thing: Benny broke three hearts the day he left McCook. Johnny took Benny’s absence harder than the woman who married him and the woman who loved him. Johnny changed the day Benny left. He seemed to age two days for every one that passed. His laughter dried up and his leadership got sour. Between Cal, Zipco, and a few of the other old guard, the Vandals held themselves together, but everyone could see that the winds of change were brewing, and the MC was on the edge of a permanent change. All that was left to do was to hold your breath and wait.

You were with Johnny Davis the day he died. You remembered the way that young kid had shot him, point blank, in some old abandoned parking lot on the western edge of town. All the light was gone from Johnny’s eyes by the time you reached him. The Vandals you knew died with him in that weedy parking lot that night.

Zipco left about a month later for Texas. He sent you a few postcards, called you a couple times. After a while, there wasn’t anything left to say. You never stopped sending him his favorite bottle of bourbon at Christmas. Every once in a while, a customer would come in from out of town and tell you that your shop was personally recommended to them by a drunk, grouchy old Latvian who worked on a shrimping boat outside of Corpus Christi.

One by one, the new Vandals stopped coming into your shop for their repairs and tune-ups. That was fine with you. You didn’t recognize any of the newcomers, and you doubted they recognized you, apart from vague memories of seeing you drinking and laughing in Junker’s next to the guys that they considered to be the past. Cross Roads Bikes was about four years old at that point, and you’d built enough of a non-MC customer base to survive the turnover. The day Cal came in and told you he’d turned in his patch and was planning to head back out to California, you knew that your last tie with the club had been cut. In some ways, it was relieving, in other ways, terrifying. You and Cal got shitfaced together that night and told old war stories about all the guys you’d known and lost. You cried like a baby when, two weeks later, you were standing on the sidewalk, watching Cal’s taillight fade into the Illinois dark as he headed out to the West Coast for the next chapter of his life.

Much to your surprise, it was Sheila and Becky, Johnny’s widow, who became your new club. They took to bringing you sandwiches at the shop and sitting on the counter with you for lunch breaks, telling the did you hear? kind of stories that bond people with a loose circle of mutual acquaintances together. It was easy and fun and all three of you seemed to know that this was it. If you all let yourselves drift away, who was going to tell stories about the guys you’d all known? About the Vandals’ early days, the glory days? You three were all that was left. Ironic, you thought. A men’s club, survived by three women.

Your life fell into a pattern. Productive, purposeful, content with little stains of sadness at the edges. But mostly, a good life. You were happy, and getting used to it every day. At some point, your life became predictable.

That’s why, one crisp fall morning as you stumbled out of bed at 6:00am to the waiting pot of Zipco-strong coffee and the stack of yesterday’s mail on the counter, the last thing you were expecting to see was the outline of a man sitting on your front porch steps. The black leather jacket with an original Vandals patch on the back, the Harley parked across the street, the tousled blonde hair. It was a ghost of a memory.

You opened the front door a crack and looked down on the profile of Benny Cross. He was looking up at the neon Cross Roads Bike sign that Johnny and the rest of the club had gifted to you for your one-year anniversary at the shop. When he looked up at you with those same old blue eyes, it was like stepping into a dream.

“Hey.”

You closed the door behind you, offering him your mug of coffee as you wrapped your robe around you against the chill. “Hey.”

He scooched over to make room for you to join him. You did, tucking your knees up against your chest for warmth. The cold concrete of your porch steps bit into your backside.

“Looks good,” Benny commented softly, gesturing up at the Cross Roads sign. The text was superimposed over an image of a motorcycle - an all-black 1965 Harley Electra-Glide, to be exact. The same bike that happened to be sitting across the street from you, where Benny had parked it.

“Yea, yea,” you agreed gently, looking up at the sign with a sad smile. “Hope you don’t mind, I stole your bike. And your name.”

When you looked back at Benny, a half-smirk was spreading across his face. He looked the same, although you could see that the road had been riding him just as much as the other way around. You knew that life.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, sharing the same cup of coffee and a cigarette, letting the sun rise above the rooftops across the street. It was a comfortable, companionable quiet. It was the first time since you’d met Benny that you didn’t have the burning desire to try and put your feelings into words. After almost ten years of your heart orbiting his, you realized in the cold November morning that you had finally learned how to let him go. It was a bittersweet feeling, and you knew you’d never be able to put it into words, even if you tried. So the two of you were quiet together.

When the city began to wake up around you and the demands of another day couldn’t be ignored any longer, you rose from your seat - cursing the way the cold made your hips stiff - and offered him a hand to help him up. He took it, thick calluses on his palm from years of riding. He stood up, still tall enough to tower over you, his jacket thick with the smell of the road - leather, diesel fuel, sweat, and cigarettes.

“How long you in town for?” you asked as you held the door open for him behind you. He followed you in, kicking off his dirty boots at the door.

“Not sure,” he replied with a note of nervousness. “Depends on how long you’ll let me stay.”

You smiled to yourself, your back turned to him as you refilled your coffee mug and poured a fresh one for him.

“I got plenty of room, and plenty of work for ya, Benny. Long as you promise that you won’t leave without sayin’ goodbye this time.” He accepted the coffee in your outstretched hand with a heartbreakers’ smile.

“Funny you mention it. I hadn’t planned on leavin’ this time.” He looked at you with a question in his eyes. You weren’t entirely sure what the question was. Do you forgive me? Is this ok? Are you alright? Did you miss me?

Whatever he was asking, your answer was yes. A very simple word, and easily one you could have said. But, just like moments before, you found that words just wouldn’t suffice, even such a simple one.

So you crossed the kitchen, dropping your coffee mug and letting it splinter into pieces on the tile floor, splashing hot coffee on your ankles, and wrapped your arms around him. Benny’s mouth tasted exactly how you remembered, and when he folded his arms around you, you swore your feet no longer touched the ground. He was warm and strong against you, and for every question he pressed through that kiss into your lips, you answered with an enthusiastic yes.

As you floated away into the sky towards what you’d heard others call “cloud nine” from your kitchen, the rest of the words of that old poem came drifting back to you:

Of all the things that can create, love is the one I most appreciate.

One thing I’ve come to know, nothing kills you slower than letting someone go.

But I will also tell you this, coming back to life can happen in the space of a single kiss.

***********************

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sansaorgana · 1 month

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hello!! i’ve been reading you’re gale fics and i stumbled across the one where they meet once he goes back to school! i loved it so much and was wondering if you could do a part 2 kind of on their relationship once they officially become a couple?

hi, darling! thank you for your request! 🎀 I really like this story because it's different than usual Gale fics 😊 in this part they are apart for the summer holidays and they miss each other meanwhile her mum wants her to meet her son's friend who is closer to Reader's age and all that and then Gale shows up to visit because he's been missing his girl 😌

[ PART ONE ]

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Your relationship with Gale was going steady and everyone seemed to be interested in it, which was giving you both more attention than usual. You weren’t a very social couple and yet everyone wanted to talk to you all of a sudden as they hoped you would answer some questions that they had about him. Who he was, where had he come from, why did he have those scars on his face… You were only smiling gently at those people and trying to avoid answering such questions.

Your roommate Kathy and her boyfriend Jack were the only two people you talked to about such things – although you were still quite angry at Jack for looking into Gale’s personal documents to find out about his past. But since he had already known it anyway, there was no point of lying in front of him or avoiding the subject anyway.

With time people eventually gave up and let you go, disappointed about not getting many answers to their nosy questions. Thankfully, everything went back to the old ways and you were quite invisible again and so was Gale because everyone just had gotten used to him being around and remaining a little mystery. Also, someone had spread a rumour already about him being a pilot from the war. You had a nasty feeling it was Jack but you didn’t want to ask him because you didn’t want to fight with him and Kathy. Gale had assured you it was fine – after all, the new rumour was believable enough for the other, less pleasant rumours to stop. And most people were satisfied with this information about him without asking any further questions.

The semester was slowly coming to an end and you were sitting under a tree in the park, enjoying the warm weather with your head on Gale’s shoulder. Both of you were reading books for your upcoming exams and you were chewing on a pen but your thoughts were getting distracted.

“How will you spend your summer holidays?” You asked him, all of the sudden.

Gale looked down at you with a furrowed brow as he chuckled.

“I’m gonna visit my family for some time but then I’m gonna come back here, I think,” he answered. “And you? Going back to your family, I assume?” He asked and you nodded, anxiously.

“I’m gonna be out for the whole summer,” you explained. “But now… Now I’m thinking I should perhaps only go there for a month and spend the second one here with you?”

“I don’t want to keep you away from your family, love,” Gale smiled gently and caressed your cheek with his fingertip.

“And what are you gonna do here without me around?” You crossed your arms after closing your book loudly.

“Same as always,” Gale shrugged his arms. “Same as I was doing before we started seeing each other,” he explained.

“But you’re going to miss me, right?” You bit on your lower lip.

“Of course,” Gale shook his head and kissed the top of your head. “I’m going to call you and send you letters,” he assured you as he squeezed your arm. “You’re going to miss me, too, right?”

“Right,” you nodded with a shy smile but you looked away.

You couldn’t help an awful feeling that you would miss him more than he would miss you. Gale was a mystery to everyone but to you as well sometimes – he was a stoic and demure man, which was understandable because of his past and his age but… Sometimes you wished he would be more open with his feelings.

Gale took you to the train station on the day of your departure back home and he was standing on the platform and waving his hand after you as you were staring through the window and waving back. It was like in that song Love In Vain and for some reason you couldn’t help but feel sad and nostalgic about this farewell even though you would be back in two months.

But would everything be the same between you two then? It was hard to believe.

It didn’t help that at home everyone seemed to question your relationship. You expected everyone to be excited about you finally finding a partner and about him being a mature man who was a war hero but apparently everyone had some problem with that.

“What does he look like?�� Your sister wanted to know. You sighed at her shallowness but you tried not to get angry because she was only a teenager. You took out the picture that Kathy had taken of you and Gale inside the library. “Why does he look like this?” Your sister asked.

“What are you talking about? He’s handsome!” You protested and she took the picture from your hands to take a closer look.

“The scars on his cheeks…”

“Well, he was in the war,” you reminded her with an eye roll, getting annoyed already at her comment.

“I don’t know… He looks stiff and sad,” she handed you the picture back.

“War does terrible things to men. Are you sure he’s, you know, right in the head?” Your father squinted his eyes at you as he lowered his newspaper. He only took a brief look at the picture and cleared his throat.

“Gale is perfectly fine in the head,” you clenched your jaw and looked at your mother, hoping she would back you up on that but she sighed instead.

“Why couldn’t you find yourself a boy your age, darling? And what is he even doing right now? Are you sure he is not flirting with other girls? Women his age, I mean?” She put her hands on her hips.

“Gale is not like that…” You started but you knew how pathetic that sounded like. Every woman who had been cheated on had probably used the same words. Your mother shook her head and muttered something to herself before walking out of the room to check on the pie in the oven.

You were growing insecure because of their words and comments. You sent Gale a letter in which you assured him of your love and you also added how much you missed him. You hoped to remind him about your devotion.

Not long after, your mother came up with a great plan of setting up a date for you with her friend’s son. You had been refusing that many times because how could you worry about Gale cheating on you while going out on a date yourself? Your mother’s friend and her son were invited to dinner at your place once and you even said it to his face that you had a boyfriend but he didn’t seem to be discouraged.

He was quite handsome, that boy. His name was Bobby and he was only slightly older. He had just finished his education and he was going to settle down in your hometown and start his own business. He had a bright future ahead of him due to his confidence and his father’s money.

Everyone kept insisting on you going out with him to the point you just had to agree but you kept repeating over and over that it was definitely not a date – just a meeting with a friend.

Bobby took you to the restaurant and ordered meals for you both without even letting you take a look at the menu.

“I just know what you’re going to love. Everyone loves it. My father knows the owner and it’s their best meal,” he assured you sweetly but you did not like his behaviour anyway. You decided not to comment on that, though.

“Thank you,” you only answered as your mother would expect you to.

“So, when are you graduating?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I still have two years to get a Bachelor degree,” you explained. “And so does Gale.”

“Why are you so pressed about getting that degree, hm? You have that… Gale already,” he winced a little at the mention of the name. “Most girls only go to college to meet their husband.”

“Gale is not my husband yet,” you straightened yourself but you felt your heart pounding at the mention of such possibility. It filled your whole body with butterflies. “And even if he was, I would still want that degree and I know that Gale would support me in that. He knows how important it is for me. I haven’t worked so hard to get to college just to resign because of a man,” you explained and Bobby rolled his eyes.

“And what is he even doing there?” Bobby asked. “How old is he?”

“He’s going to be thirty in two years,” you answered and Bobby whistled.

“And he’s wasting time on getting degrees instead of starting something for himself?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“He is not wasting time, he is getting a degree! And I know already he will want more than just a Bachelor. All the professors praise him, too,” you answered. “I’m sure he’s gonna get a Masters or even a PhD.”

“Degrees are not for everyone. I mean, not everyone has to have one. We need simple workers, too. And if I was his age, I would try to catch up on the time I lost and go to work. He should accept the fact that his chance to get properly educated is already–” Bobby started and you widened your eyes at his rudeness.

“He was in the war, for God’s sake, Bobby! He was fighting in Europe so you could be safe here and study yourself… How can you not be grateful for that?” You shook your head.

“Was he? Your mother told my mother that your Gale had spent over a year in the camp for the prisoners of war,” Bobby scoffed. “That’s hardly fighting.”

“You have no idea what he’s been through,” you snapped back and then the waiter brought the food to your table so you smiled at him and took your plate.

Just like you had been expecting, the food was awful. You only ate a little bit and watched Bobby devour his whole plate.

“You know, our mothers would like us to get married. For you to drop out of college and become my wife,” he told you between one bite and another. You felt your guts turning inside out at that.

“Thankfully, we don’t agree with that, do we?” You looked him up and down and Bobby shrugged his arms.

“Thought you would do, but your brain’s already filled with… ideas. That’s why I’m against women going to colleges,” he explained.

“What ideas?” You wondered out loud. “I don't mind becoming a wife and a mother one day. I just want a degree first,” you explained.

“Yeah… All that talk. Sorry, I don’t buy it,” he chuckled.

The rest of the meal went pretty quiet. Bobby paid for it and he walked you home as the sun was slowly setting down. He insisted on walking you up to the front door of your house, so you knocked upon them and waited there awkwardly in silence.

When your mother opened the door, she looked pretty uncomfortable and… scared? You wondered what had happened. You expected her to be overjoyed and ask a million questions about your “date”.

Then, your heart skipped a beat when you spotted a familiar person standing behind her… It was Gale.

“Your boyfriend paid you a visit,” she whispered at you and you met his gaze.

Gale approached you and you nearly gasped to have him so close again. You nearly forgot how handsome he was in real life. His baby blue eyes were even sadder than usual, though, and you knew why. He turned to extend his hand towards Bobby.

“Nice to meet you. Gale,” he introduced himself, classy as always.

“N-nice to meet you, sir. Bobby. I mean, Robert,” Bobby shook his hand and you would laugh at that if you weren’t so scared of Gale witnessing that boy walking you home in the evening. Your dress, your makeup, your hair… It was obvious there had been some sort of a date going on between you two.

“Thank you for entertaining my girl and being such a gentleman to walk her back home,” Gale told him and Bobby looked away anxiously.

“No problem… We just had dinner together, that’s it…” He explained.

“Yeah!” Your mother added. “Told you, Mr. Cleven, they’re just friends,” she nodded eagerly and you furrowed your brows at her.

“Well, thank you for tonight, Bobby. It was nice,” you smiled fakely at the boy and you took Gale by his hand to walk inside the house with him.

Your mother said goodnight to Bobby and closed the door behind him as you and Gale were standing awkwardly together in the hall.

“We are all in the living room, getting to know your boyfriend better,” your mother explained to you as she put her hand on your shoulder and smiled nervously at Gale. “Mr. Cleven wanted to surprise you because he was missing you so much. You’re going to sleep with your sister tonight, I prepared her bedroom for Mr. Cleven to sleep in.”

You only nodded at that. Your father walked out of the living room and hurried Gale to come back to them because he was very interested in some story from the war. You let go of Gale’s hand and watched him walk away before you followed your mother inside the kitchen.

She was slicing a pie when she looked up at you with guilt in her eyes.

“I’m sorry…” She whispered. “I didn’t know he would come… Obviously, I wouldn’t make you go on that date with Bobby if–”

“It was not a date,” you interrupted her. “And it was awful. Bobby is not a good man. Why did you change your mind about Gale, though?” You furrowed your brow at her.

“Seeing him in real life, I mean… He is a very kind man and you can just… You can just feel that he’s good,” she sighed. “And much more handsome than in the picture,” she smiled nervously at you. “I’m glad that you have him and–”

“It’s too late for that,” you interrupted her again. “And God only knows if I still have him,” your lower lip trembled but you moved away when she approached you to give you a hug. Shaking your head, you walked out of the kitchen and you sniffled your tears back before joining the rest in the living room.

You sat next to Gale on the sofa with a soft smile. Your father was occupying an armchair and listening to Gale’s story with nothing but pure interest on his face. Your sister was sitting on the armrest of his armchair and listening as well even though girls like her were usually not into war stories.

You watched your family fall for Gale for the rest of the evening while you kept sitting there and worrying if you weren’t losing him in the meantime. Knowing how awkward the situation currently was, your father didn’t even ask him any serious questions about the nature of your relationship.

When the clock struck midnight, everyone decided to go to bed. Gale was especially tired after his train ride. You went to the bathroom first and took a quick shower before getting into your nightgown. Gale was a gentleman and he allowed your sister to take a shower before him but when they were talking about it in the corridor, you hid inside your bedroom. You sat on the bed, remembering to make space for your sister, too.

A slight knock upon your door made you look up anxiously. You knew it was Gale and your heart became a lump in your throat.

“C-come in,” you whispered.

He opened the door shyly and walked inside, looking around with a soft smile at the sight of your room.

“I finally have you for myself for a short while,” he said and approached your bed. You noticed that he left the door to your room ajar – such a gentleman, always.

“You don’t know my sister, Gale. It won’t be a short while. Her quick shower is at least half an hour long,” you chuckled and he smiled at that.

“Can I sit next to you?” He asked and blushed a little.

“You don’t have to ask me such things,” you moved slightly to make more space.

“Don’t I?” He took a seat next to you and looked deep into your eyes. You opened your mouth to answer but he continued. “Listen, I understand. I am older than you and I am not exactly… I am not exactly the happiest person, I have a past… I understand, I really do. And I am not angry, I would never be angry at you but… You could have written that to me. I just don’t understand the lies. At that, I am a little angry but I’m trying not to be, I assume you were scared of hurting or rejecting me,” Gale’s voice broke a little and so did your heart because he had misunderstood everything so awfully and yet… He was so kind and gentle about it. So understanding. “You sounded so sad in your letter; that you missed me and that you… That you… That you loved me,” his jaw clenched and his eyes filled with tears. “I wanted to come here and make sure you were alright. I’ve been missing you like crazy… And… Yeah, you could have just written to me that you met someone else.”

“Gale…” His name was all you managed to let out in a broken whisper. You caught his trembling hands into yours and squeezed them, trying to pour all of your love into him in this small gesture. “Gale, it’s not like this… Please, believe me,” you started. “Bobby is the son of my mum’s friend and they wanted us to date despite me telling them I have you already. They were very pushy and I agreed to have dinner with him. It was not a date, though, and it was awful,” you cracked a smile through your own tears. “I don’t want to ever see him again, in fact. He was rude and we don’t share the same beliefs or ideology. But even if we did and if he was kind, he would only become my friend and nothing else. Because I already have a boyfriend and I am happy with him and proud of him and…” You shook your head and gasped, trying to find the right words. “And if you don’t believe me, I don’t know what I’m going to do…”

Short silence occurred. Gale blinked away all of his tears and his lips finally curled up in a soft smile. You loved that genuine, loving smile on his face. You let go of his hands to cup his cheeks and caress his scars with your thumbs.

“I believe you, my love, why wouldn’t I?” He asked quietly. “It didn’t make sense to me why would you lie in your letters anyway. It didn’t seem like my girl at all,” he admitted.

“I am. I am your girl,” you nodded to assure him and you pulled his face down to join your foreheads together. “And I would never lie to you like that. I would never break your heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he pecked your lips.

“Ugh,” your sister’s sigh made you both move away from each other and look up at her. “I can go to my room. Mom will not notice,” she told you.

“No, no,” Gale shook his head and stood up. “I am leaving for the night now.”

Sometimes, you hated what a gentleman he was.

“Goodnight, girls,” he winked at you and squeezed your sister’s arm before leaving the room.

“Do you share a room together in college?” Your sister asked when she laid on the other side of your bed.

“No!” You felt your cheeks heating up. “Girls have their own dormitories and boys have their own,” you explained and laid down next to her before turning the small lamp by your bed off.

“I didn’t know… But that makes sense,” she admitted and moved closer to you. “Do you think I will go to college, too? Is it fun?”

“It’s very fun. And I hope you will go,” you kissed her forehead. “You just have to keep getting good grades,” you assured her.

“And do you think I’m going to meet a nice man like Gale there?”

“Oh, dear,” you laughed softly. “I hope so. But a man like him is one in a million.”

“You must miss him terribly when you’re here and he’s there,” she sighed.

“I am. And you know what? Tomorrow, I might go back with him,” you told her as you made this decision inside your head this very moment. You didn’t have to see her face to know that she was sad about it. “You can go with me if mom and dad agree. My roommate is with her family so I have space in my room,” you assured her and rubbed her arm. “And now go to sleep, little one.”

You tried to fall asleep, too, but you could only think of Gale being in the room next to yours, in your little sister’s pink bedroom. You chuckled at the thought.

When her breath was steady and you were sure that she had fallen asleep, you carefully slid out of the covers and you tip-toed to her bedroom where Gale was. He was tossing and turning when you entered and you thought that he couldn’t fall asleep either but no, you quickly realised that he was having a nightmare. He had told you about them before but you had never witnessed them yourself.

“Gale…” You touched him gently, scared of what he might do when he suddenly wakes up. However, you didn’t want him to be tormented in his sleep anymore. “Gale…”

He opened his eyes and sat up, breathing heavily. You turned the small lamp on your sister’s bedside table and you sat on the edge of the bed to cup his sweaty face. His eyes were widened and he looked like he couldn’t recognise you or the place – but the second part was quite understandable.

“Baby, it’s me,” you cooed sweetly. “You’re at my place, in my sister’s bedroom,” you told him. “You’re safe,” you added to assure him and you felt his muscles relaxing.

“Was I… Was I loud?” He asked and rubbed his face with his hand.

“No, darling, I just sneaked out of my room to lay with you for a while but I saw you were having a nightmare,” you admitted and Buck looked at you in a funny way – nearly as if he was scolding you. You giggled a bit at that and fixed his ruffled hair. “Well, I don’t have to lay here if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he pulled you closer by your waist and you ended up laying on his chest. He hugged you tightly and you hugged him back as his fingers played with your hair. “I just didn’t expect you to be such a little rebel.”

“There’s still a lot about me for you to learn, Mr. Cleven,” you teased.

“I can’t wait,” he whispered in all seriousness before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

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taylorcritic · 2 months

Text

Taylor and Conor

Continued thread part three

August 2012

in an interview with rolling stone, the singer beamed at the idea of living next-door to her boyfriend of barely a month.

late august, things turned sour when taylor escorted Conor to the wedding of his cousin, kyle, in boston.

while conor was invited, according to kyle's mother vicki, he'd failed to RSVP and his attention-grabbing pop star date was persona non grata.

"they texted me an hour before the wedding and asked if they could come," vicki told the boston herald. "i responded, 'please do not come.' they came anyway."

when vicki asked them leave, swift wouldn't budge. "it was like talking to a ghost. she seemed to look right past me."

after an awkward standoff, the couple left the reception only to return later. "the family felt like they couldn't do anything," a source told people magazine.

Taylor's rep denied the story. "taylor was invited to the wedding and the bride thanked her profusely for being there."

kathie lee gifford. , a guest at the wedding, gave her account of the drama on the today show.

"vicki's account is accurate... [swift was asked to leave] twice."

the two patched things up and the next day swift accompanied Kennedy on a trip to his mother's grave paparazzi in tow taking multiple photos of the Kennedy family mourning

the two would be separated for several days the next week as taylor promoted her new song, the singer would send her private jet to fetch kennedy in hyannis and bring him to nashville.

"he's been with her ever since and his family doesn't know when he will be back."sources told vanity fair

things would come to a quiet finish. with kennedy returning to high school and swift promoting her new album, the two would soon call it quits. Taylor later says it was a distance thing and that they have no hard feelings

in an interview with rolling stone that fall, swift would address the wedding controversy, insisting it was all a misunderstanding.

"i would never knowingly show up somewhere that i thought i wasn't invited to. and i would never want to upstage anybody."

in j. randy taraborrelli's book "the kennedy heirs," that came out 2018 conor had also felt uncomfortable with swift's purchasing a house next-door.

"it seemed as if she was getting a little too attached."

in 2013 swift sold off the last of her her camelot dreams - her $4 million cape cod mansion - flipping it for a million dollar profit and setting her sits on freshly eighteen one direction member harry styles Taylor now twenty four

#anti swifties #anti taylor swift

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jennamacaroni · 6 months

Note

Deborah is always giving things to people, and people think because she is very rich and very capable, she doesn't need anyone to give things to her. But Ava gives her something. [you take over from here]

its been two and half years that i've been ruminating on this prompt and never have been able to figure out what this gift could be. this morning i finally found my answer. thank you for sending this prompt which i'm sure at this point you've long forgotten about <3 love u

The package arrives by courier the same evening that Deborah learns ‘My Bad’ is going to network television. After an obscene bidding war, the purchase price from NBC Universal’s deal will be more revenue for Deborah than all 2,500 Palmetto residency shows combined. It also happens that NBC has the Super Bowl next February, and network executives pitched the big game to Deborah’s team as the perfect lead-in to maximize viewership.

That’s how big Deborah Vance is in popular culture these days. Big enough to follow up the most-watched television program of the year.

It’s kind of stunning, Deborah thinks, as Marcus offers her the iPad with the contract pulled up, ready for her signature. Maybe in her wildest dreams she imagined this level of fame and brand recognition, but it was never all that realistic. Especially not at her age. It was impressive enough to sustain her Vegas residency as long as she did in a culture where even the most prolific actors are put out to pasture after age forty. But here she is, about to sign the biggest deal of her career, north of seventy years old.

Josefina interrupts them before she has the chance to sign, knocking softly on the doorframe to Deborah’s office, holding a small package wrapped in a recycled paper grocery bag. “Sorry to interrupt, Deborah, but this was just delivered.”

Deborah waves her off. “Leave it in the kitchen, I’ll get to it later.”

Josefina turns to follow Deborah’s instructions, but something changes her mind. She hovers instead in the entry to the office, a strange look on her face.

“What is it?” Deborah asks, studying Josefina’s frown, mind going back to Ava hovering in a similar doorway holding the envelope from Kathy back after Frank died. She shakes the memory away and stands, holding out her hand and beckoning Josefina forward and to get on with it. She thought this was finally over, that after nearly hitting her with the Rolls Kathy would have gotten the goddamn message.

Josefina enters but stops short of handing it over. She looks Deborah clear in the eye and says, “It’s from Ava.”

Ah.

Deborah isn’t sure if anyone on her staff is still in contact with her ex-writing partner, but it’s been six months since Deborah fired her on that Hollywood rooftop.

First came the denial: Ava teary eyed on a night that she should have been celebrating, not believing Deborah’s words. I can do three months severance and extend your health insurance for six. Then came the anger, weeks of indignant and resentful texts and voice messages, Ava at her worst poking at every tender part of Deborah she knew, which is just about all of them. Deborah never once wrote back. Then bargaining for her job back, even when Deborah knew she was doing just fine writing for television back in LA, that she was even becoming pretty successful. Then came the weeks where Deborah heard nothing at all, Ava’s messages stopping completely, no updates on any of her social media that Deborah most definitely didn’t keep checking, just to make sure. Ava’s name in the credits became the only way Deborah knew she was still out there, still okay, still working.

Deborah clears her throat, swallowing down the acute tightening, ignoring the quickening of her heart rate.

“I’ll take it,” she says, curtly, “give me a minute.”

“I already opened the champagne Jimmy sent,” Josefina explains, handing Deborah the box across the desk. This was a night for celebration, but Deborah suddenly feels like anything but.

“I said, give me a minute,” she snaps, more forceful this time. Her tone clearly hits the mark because Josefina and Marcus share a knowing look before seeing themselves out. The contract, Jimmy, the champagne, it can all wait.

She sits back in the opulent wing-backed chair and lets out a long exhale, holding the small wrapped package and measuring its weight. There’s not much to it really, just wrinkled paper, crooked lines of clear packing tape, and Ava’s chicken scratch with her name and address.

She unwraps it carefully, like she’s afraid of what might be inside. There’s a plain white envelope with Deborah’s name written small in the center and a box for a pair of noise canceling headphones. She slips her finger under the seam of the envelope, tearing it open. A piece of note paper is tri-folded inside, Ava Daniels in neat block printing stamped along the top of the personalized stationery. Deborah chuckles, thinking Ava has come so far from writing solely on post-its. The note is simple, Ava’s messy handwriting in black ink in the center of the page:

For your collection. - Ava

Deborah opens the box but there are no headphones inside, only a bunch of balled up paper surrounding an oblong taped up ball of bubble wrap. Contained within are two ceramic figures, an unlikely pair: it’s quintessential Deborah in her favorite updo wig, a pants suit dusted in golden glitter, complete with golden high heels and microphone in hand. The other is a slightly shorter and paler figure with short auburn hair, striped t-shirt, high waisted jeans, and thick black Doc Marten boots. The tiny Ava is holding a small black notebook. They’re both laughing, and if placed side by side, the salt and pepper shakers turn slightly into one another, like they’re leaning in and sharing a raucous joke.

Deborah tears up, staring down at them centered on the desktop, Ava the pepper to her salt. The other half of her pair. She misses her desperately then, and if she’s serious with herself, has been for the past half of a year, never letting herself truly sit in those feelings until now.

She picks up her phone, squints at the screen through tears, and pulls up Ava’s contact. Before she knows what she’s doing, Deborah hits the call button.

The phone rings twice, then is sent to voicemail.

The recorded message says, “It’s Ava, drop it like it’s hot.”

Deborah clears her throat. She has no idea what she even wants to say. I miss you. I’m living my dream, I’m famous as hell, about to be more rich than ever, but I’m not happy. Not without you. Please come back. None of it is worth it without you.

But that would be selfish. Ava is doing fine, thriving even, without Deborah. She needs to let her be. Instead, she says, “Hey, it’s um, it’s me. I got your package.” She sniffles, swallowing tears. “They’re perfect. Thank you.”

She hangs up.

After her hands stop shaking and she’s gathered herself, Deborah carries the shakers to the wall of china cabinets where her collection is fully lit and on display. She makes room right in the center one at eye-level and sets them together, close enough to touch, their heads leaning into one another.

A few moments later Deborah signs the contract and the house celebrates, Jimmy toasting Deborah and her accomplishments over the phone to a bottle of Dom Perignon, a vintage for 1976, the very year Deborah filmed the late night pilot and ended up starting her stand up career.

If anyone notices the new addition to the salt and pepper shaker collection, no one mentions it.

#hacks #hacks hbo #filling some prompts to get back into it #so if you remember sending one i never answered you might get lucky :)#ava x deborah

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puppiesandnightlock · 4 months

Text

LINK: At least it’s not as dull as fitting like a glove

summary: Damian and Jon are, well, Damian and Jon.

They're idiots about their hideously obvious feelings, and their friends are *so* done with them. Time for operation Damijon.

otherwise known as the friends meddling >:)

“Alright, this is getting ridiculous.” Maya wrinkled her nose, watching Jon knock Damian in the shoulder, the shorter boy grumbling as he knocked back, hint of a smile on his face.

“They’re like, disgustingly mushy.” Colin agreed. “It’s horrible.”

“They should kiss.” Skyler nibbled on her pencil, sharing a sketchbook with Akira, who looked up and grinned.

“Is this meddling, I hear? Are we meddling?”

Maya nodded solemnly. “We’re meddling.”

“-eT OFF OF ME, YOU IDIOT-” They looked over at the exclamation, Damian squawking as Jon flopped on him, going limp and forcing all his weight onto the smaller boy, who was mostly upright.

Akira pointed a pen at them, considering for a moment. ”Gay.”

“You’re gay.” Skylar kicked them under the table playfully.

“Yes, I very much am.”

“Children, please, back to the matter at hand.” Maya clapped. “What do we know about Jon?”

“He was an asshole!” Colin chirped.

“He was probably being an asshole specifically to Damian for attention.” Skylar added. “And he’s tall.”

“He has black hair and makes bad fashion choices.”

“He could probably be a jock in a different life.”

“He’s like, secretly Nick Nelson but not British.”

“And not nearly as nice, less manners and more fictionally jock-like.”

“I mean anything useful.” Maya cut them off, rolling her eyes fondly.

“His best friend is a girl named Kathy, and her parents run a diner downtown. Also, he’s a secret southern good boy who would get whacked over the head with a wooden spoon if his grandmother knew he was acting like this.”

Akira looked up from stenciling a piece they wanted to throw up on the school alleyway. “I follow her on Insta.”

“Something helpful, thank you.” Maya grinned. “Okay, we’re getting this Kathy chick in on this, Akira, send the address and we’ll meet up there this weekend, provided they aren’t there for a not-date.”

“Got it.” Akira pulled out their phone and tapped at it, creating a chat.

New Chat: literally_nobody, End_the_cycle, Sky_high_dreams

End_the_cycle has changed the name to: Op Damijon

End_the_cycle: idk i think it sounds good

Sky_high_dreams: when they get married we should make them a wedding sign with this

Art.is.lit(erature): woodworking bet

Anyways heres the address - link

literally_nobody: Sounds good

everyone meet there at like 12:30-ish, thats when they have tutoring so they def wont b there.

“Why are they all on their phones?” Jon whispered, pulling out his own. They were watching their friend, having grown curious at the lack of chatter, not that they’d really been listening to it from how they’d been badly flirting messing around with each other.

“They’re sitting in front of each other, they can talk face to face.” Damian grumbled, before looking over Jon’s shoulder, resting his chin there. “Maybe someone died?”

“Nah, no one’s socials have blown up.” he leaned back a bit, raven curls falling into Damian’s vision, causing his nose to scrunch up. He blew the hair upwards, getting a glance at the screen.

“Weirdos.” Jon muttered, putting his phone away. Damian nodded, the two still attached to each other and now swaying back and forth with the light breeze.

“Very much so.”

“Oi!” Jon shouted. Damian startled, having grown accustomed to the peace and detached himself from the taller boy, much to Jon's disappointment. “What are y’all doing? ”

Four phones were promptly slammed face down onto the table, followed by a multitude of bad explanations.

“What makes you think we’re dining anything anyways?” Colin challenged, Maya pinching the bridge of her nose behind him.

“Fine, don’t tell us.” Damian muttered. “A four year old could lie better than you.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Jon poked his cheek, laughing as his hand was swatted away.

“Are you insinuating I am a four year old, Kent?”

“You’re as short as one.”

“It’s not my fault you’re practically a giant!” he crossed his arms, before realizing Jon’s mischievous expression. “No. whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

He was scooped up not ten seconds later, screaming obscenities as Jon cackled. The four on the table shared a glance, one thought in their heads.

Truly sickening, they were. Oblivious and ridiculously pining.

Maya was outside of the diner at 12:30, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited for at least a head of red hair to come bobbing down the sidewalk. She watched the servers swoop in and out, a blond freckled one catching her eye. According to Akira’s phone, this girl matched the description of Kathy.

“Hey, welcome! How many for ya today?”

Maya coughed, coming in face first with the girl. “Erm, four. Hey, you’re Kathy, right?”’

She hoped she didn’t sound stalker-ish. Judging by the way the girl squinted her eyes suspiciously, she probably did.

“Who’s askin’?”

“My name is Maya, and I'm a friend of Damian and Jon’s.”

Kathy lit up at the mention, but before she could respond, Colin came barreling through the door, catching himself on Maya.

“Sup, M? Akira volunteered to pick up Skylar, they should be almost here.” He looked between them. “Hey, are you Kathy? Did Maya tell you about Damijon?”

“Damijon?” Kathy asked at the same time Maya sighed and said, “I was getting there when you so rudely interrupted.”

“Oops.” Colin grinned, looking between them. “I’m Colin.”

“Yo!” Akira, followed Skylar, came through the door, one looking extremely pleased, and the other mourning the loss of their paint-splattered jacket. “Sky made me change.”

“What’s wrong with what you normally wear? And where’s your jacket?” Colin asked.

“That’s what I said! And she made me leave it, I feel naked.” To make a point, they shivered, and Skylar smacked their arm.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

They stuck their tongue out at her in retaliation, Colin and Skylar laughing. Maya sighed, turning to Kathy and asking for a table for four, loudly asking for three children’s menus. They all eventually made it to the table, all five nursing milkshakes, as Kathy had asked for her break.

“Okay, so let me get this straight, they aren’t dating yet? Cause when they came in, they seemed awfully couple-like. Milkshakes and fries, and It was more of an apology from Jon. He’s been texting more, waxing poetic about him.”

“Really?” Maya leaned forwards. “Damian hasn’t said shit about Jon, not that he’s had time to, they're attached to the hip and he barely uses his phone.”

“Okay, so we know that they are most definitely pining for each other, and Jon’s more vocal about it. They both like milkshakes, Damian's a little too attached to his grades to not be hiding from his feelings, and they are more similar than they think. Should we have them commit a felony together?”

Colin swirled his straw around what was left in his glass, Skylar sighing. “I have a feeling they’ve already done that, his lock pick kit was used.”

“How would you know that?” Akira perked up, Skylar looking away. “That’s for me to know, and none of you to find out.”

“We should try something legal.” Maya said. “Anything going on so far? Worst case scenario, we trap them in a closet.”

“Smallville’s having a festival in a few weeks. I know Jon’s been dying to go back, an’ my family goes every year. If y’all can get Damian to say yes, I can get Jon’s parents to agree.” Kathy suggested.

“We can make it sound like a friend's outing, and then leave them together,” Akira added.

“Ask the person to rig the Ferris wheel or something so that they end up on top with no way down!” Colin chirped. “They have fireworks at this fair?”

Skylar hesitated, “Maybe something less traumatic.”

Kathy, however, seemed to love the idea, nodding enthusiastically. “As long as Damian ain’t scared of heights, we’re fine. There are plenty of other rides we could ‘accidentally’ leave ‘em alone in.”

“This will be more fun than i thought.” Maya pulled out her phone, grinning. “A few weeks' time and we can get them together, no problem.”

Damian’s phone buzzed as he pointed out a specific problem, explaining the process. He ignored it, but not five seconds later, Jon’s did as well.

“Permission to check, Teach?” Jon grinned, picking up his phone anyways.

“Granted.” Damian answered, picking up his phone as well. Maya had texted Damian, detailing the dates and time that they would be doing this, leaving no room for a yes or no answer. Kathy’s was a more nice version, asking Jon if he’d like to come down to Smallville for the fair in a few weeks, and that the rest of his friends would be coming as well.

Damian seemed less pleased, but softened as he saw Jon's excitement, and beneath it, a strong pang of bittersweet.

“Will your parents allow you?” Damian said. “My brothers will, my father will not have much of a say in the matter. One of them will probably make their way with us.”

“I want to. God, I want to so bad.” Jon’s forehead fell into his hand, pushing up the curls that so often fell into his face. “My parents haven't let me go down for so long, I don't know why they’d say yes now.”

Damian mulled over it for a bit. “If your brother tells them he wants to go too, would they be more susceptible to letting you go? Since everyone else is going, and your childhood friend’s family whom they trust is the one offering it?”

“I guess, but he wouldn’t want to come.” Jon grumbled.

“He can fake it. Your parents are rarely home anyways, right? Shouldn’t be that hard.”

“I’ll talk to him, see what he says.” Jon pocketed his phone, looking at the time. “Can we call it an early day, Dami?”

“If the first thing you do is talk to your brother, yes.”

Jon grinned, pulling him to his side and rubbing his nose in the soft brown hair. “You’re the best, Dames. See you in a bit.”

Damian flushed, but only nodded, sliding his bag over his shoulder and sending a soft smile towards Jon, pink still dusting his cheeks.

“So let me get this straight. You want me to lie to mom and dad for you, and tell them that I oh so desperately wish to go back to the countryside for a fair, so that you can go down with your friends and possibly woo Damian.” Kon had his arms crossed, looking largely unamused.

“I didn’t say that last part!” Jon huffed, running a hand through his curls. “And Dami said one of his brothers might come too, for supervision. Ask Tim to come if you don’t want to lie.”

“I’m going to lie for you.” Kon decided after a beat. “But you’d better come home with a boyfriend.”

“Kon!”

Nonetheless, everyone was extremely excited for the next few weeks, the fair landing on a long weekend. They all met up in front of the Brandens’ restaurant, the carpool going big. One of Damian’s siblings and their partner had opted to come along, much to Kathy’s parents' relief. Seven teenagers and only the two of them would have been a disaster.

The Waynes had the bigger car, so the kids would be in that one, while they followed the Brandens’ car to the farm they still kept in the countryside.

“ROAD TRIP!” Colin yelled gleefully. Akira looked pained at the sight, Damian rolling his eyes and putting in his earbuds before they were even in the car. Jon and Kathy were both talking a mile a minute, regaling Skylar and Maya with tales of their youth in Smallville.

One by one, they shuffled into the car, Damian and Jon sitting in the back with Maya and Kathy, Colin, Akira, and Skylar squeezing into the front.

“All ready?” the driver called, and the car exploded into cheers and laughter, shoving each other and hugs.

This would be a rather eventful weekend, wouldn’t it?

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hyunverse · 6 months

Note

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

omg this is cool 😸☝️ thank u for sending this to me!!!

first of all, @mnwrld & hanji!!! gives off major college au music nerd #1 meets music nerd #2 together they meet and bond over making music together doing music nerd things while holding hands

@astraystayyh with hyunjin and make it forbidden love. 25k words MINIMUM. a lot of longing, pining, and crying together. it'd be gut-wrenching with a happy ending ☝️

@in2heartz & lee know. dare i say fake enemies... sprinkled with a there was only one bed trope. i see it tbh 😸☝️ they come out of the holiday as lovers i tell u!!!!

@forlix with lixie!!! neighbours trope 🤠 pov xian is the new tenant of the apartment and felix comes with a tray of cookies as a welcome gift... i see the vision and i like it!!!

@hwajin & hyune ofc 😋 i'm thinking... small town love... 💭 they met at a grocery store cs kathy was like hey haha get that cereal box from the top shelf for me pls then hyune falls in love this is canon and real

@facioleeknow & seungmin...💭 fake dating!!! seung's trying to get an ex girlfriend to be jealous but falls in love in the process 😔

lastly, @blondie-hyun with jeongin!!! something cute me thinks... 😋 i'm thinking the classic bumping into each other and having books fall EEEEEEK

#꒰ ⌗ 𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗘: MOOT TROPE ! ꒱

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lala1267 · 1 year

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Cocaine Candy

Summary: A young girl named Candice (candy for short) has a criminal lifestyle all thanks to her gangster bf, drugs, alcohol, you name it. Her mother, Kathy, sings for Elvis Presley. Ever since Candy was 8, she has known him, but as the years flew by and her behaviour worsened, Elvis noticed. He couldn't let this happen.

Warnings: drugs, mentions of guns, doing illegal stuff at a young age. Age gap between Elvis and Candy.

Sweet like candy and sour like toxic waste. Her toffee coulered hair and her emerald green eyes. Candice, she was. But she was known as "candy." She was a good girl. She had a healthy household and a good mentality. She was a kind eight year old girl who would never break any rules. She was a daisy fresh girl that would parade around in pink summer dresses as her caramel hair was decorated with pearl white bows. She would send a bright light into her mother's eyes as she would dance and sing around the house. Her purity was precious, and her softeness was fragile. Whoever was in her presence would feel her heavenly energy radiating from her golden heart like a force field. She would sit in the garden, buried in the floral flowers and thick grass. She would return to her house after a day of playing with the neighbourhood kids. She would smell like the fresh summer air, and her hair would be messy like medusas. Her mother would have to spend a good half an hour every night, picking little flowers and twigs out of her hair.

Her mother, Kathy, was one of the background singers for Elvis Presley. She was known for her high-pitched singing. This meant that candice would often see and stay with Elvis if her mother was busy. They would have Christmas dinners every year and bbq's every summer. She would spend nights at Graceland with Elvis's daughter, Lisa. They would play together every day. Lisa was five years younger than her, but that didn't stop their friendship. If only she stayed little forever.

Candy's innocence was preascious, but she would soon unfold the hidden and dark truths of the outside world. It was only a matter of time.

Candy was now fifteenteen. Her life was great, she was still pure and happy.

She walked in the school corridor. Her black school shoes clicking against the shiny floor as she held her books over her chest. She was very pretty, but she remained in the shadows. She stopped once she got to her locker. Her fingers fiddled and twisted the lock until it clicked and opened. She placed her books neatly in her locker before shutting it.

She was startled when she felt a large hand lay on her shoulder. Her body turned, and so did her head. To her suprise, she was met with Miles. He was one of the most handsome guys in the school. He was seventeen. He was dark-skinned. He had dreads that hung over his forehead, and his body was inked out with tattoos. He was a gangster. He was in a gang, a pretty famous one. He was a Blood. His gang had been having a war with The Crips for the longest time. It wasn't unusual to hear occasional gunshots coming from Miles's housing estate. He always carried a gun with him, so it was no suprise that Candy could see a huge bulge just above his belt line.

She felt her face heat up as she looked at his figure. She had always liked him, but this was the first time that she had spoken to him or even been this close to him. His dark brown eyes shot her down as an alluring grin plastered over his face. His cheeks dimpled at the sight of her.

"Well hey lil mama."

He said with his deep raspy voice. Candy tried her best to regurgitate a word from her cherry red lips but her body kept on denying her. He looked at her up and down with the same grin.

"You don't talk much. Don't worry, imma make you scream my name tonight, I'm throwing a party. You better not miss it."

He said as his eyes turned dark and menacing. He placed a peice of white paper in Candy's hand with the info for the party scribbled onto it. He walked away and disappeared with his group of gangster friends. Candy was just left gobsmacked as her bambi eyes stared at the note in her hands in awe.

The evening

Candy was standing infront of her mirror, holding up two party dresses that she had found. One of them was a bright tropical orange that was studded with shiny fake diamonds. It was quite short in length but it was pretty. The second one was a baby blue that had white glittery trims. It was thrilly at the bottom and almost childlike. She turned around and threw the blue dress on her bed before getting changed into the orange one.

She looked at her reflection with a smile on her face. It hugged her figure perfectly. It tucked in her baby fat and exentuated her pre-mature hips. It travelled to the middle of her thighs, making her sun-kissed legs more prominent and sexy. She sat down in front of her vanity before doing her hair and makeup. She went for a classic 60s double winged eyeliner with pastel orange eyeshadow. Her hair was in a beautiful blowout, making her look godly. She began to pack some things in a small handbag that she had 'borrowed' from her mother. She put some spare makeup into the bag and some other random things. She looked into her reflection one more time. She knew that her mother wouldn't let her go to the party, especially dressed like this at her young age. But that's why she wasn't going to tell her.

After successfully sneaking out and arriving at the party, she walked up to the entrance. It was a house, bright neon lights shot out of the windows and music blared. She walked in, and her eyes widened. Many teens from her school were there. Some of which were aggressively grinding on eachover. Ew. She pushed and shoved past the hundreds of intoxicated people as she pulled a face. She soon saw Miles, he saw her too. His tall figure made its way towards her until he was towering over her. He was wearing blue jeans that were kept in place with his designer belt . His plane white t-shirt added to his handsomeness. Without warning, he bent his head down until his alchohol drenched lips met with her pretty red ones. Her eyes widened, but she didn't pull away. The smell of his cologne and the taste of the alchohol only made her want more. He pulled away and looked at her pretty pink cheeks as his hand was kept secure on her small waist. Candy looked up at him with a gleam in her eye. Pink love hearts fluttered around him in her vision.

"Glad you made it, I was boutta go out lookin' for you."

He said before taking a puff of his hydroponic weed. Candy smiled at him before her wandering eyes watched him blow a cloud of smoke from his plush lips. It smelt very earthy yet strong. He looked at her as a smile formed on his lips. He stook his hand out, holding the spliff, waving it in her face.

"You want some?"

He asked. Candy looked at it and then back up at him.

"Oh, uh."

"I'll take that as a yes."

He said before shoving it between her lips and watching her inhale it. It left a slight burn as the smoke travelled through her throat and spread across her lungs. She breathed it out smoothly. Suddenly, she felt her tense muscles loosen and her crossed arms unfold. She smiled at him, her eyelids dropping ever so slightly. Miles looked down at her with a grin.

The night unfolded, and so did Candy. Her layers pealed off like pretty fragile petals. She sat on Miles's lap on a sofa, away from the other drunkards. She was smiling and laughing, talking and giggling. The neon lights felt like epileptic as the music sounded like white noise. She could feel her blood rushing and her heart beating as she chatted with Miles. His hands stroked her thigh as she threw herself over him like a ragdoll. Her lipstick was smeared, and her eyes were bloodshot. It was truly a euphoric feeling as the weed dripped into her brain gradually. This was the day when she knew that Miles was the one, her one.

She stumbled into her house, barley retaining her balance as she did so. She kicked off her heels. Her bloodshot eyes scanned the house before she stumbled to the stairs. She was on all fours as she tried to climb the stairs, which seemed like Mount Everest to her. She finally made it to her room and threw her body onto the bed as she turned numb. Her eyelids drifted shut as her body powered off. All of the neon lights, music, kissing. It was all gone. Everything was black.

From that day forward, she would go out every night and become one with the druggies and drunkards. She would run away until the dark night with Miles. She wouldn't go one weekend without plastering her ass all over miles as her intoxicated brain shut down. She would give men butterflies as she batted her cartoon eyes. They would smoke, drink, and steal. She was scandalous and evil. She would look for trouble and get high for free, street walk at night and a star by the day. Candy had turned into a monster, all thanks to Miles.

Candy walked to school with Miles, of course. She hugged his waist as his had slung over her shoulders. She looked down at the gun that was tucked into his belt. Her eyes shifted back up to him.

"I like how ya carry that gun, its sexy."

She said with a cheeky grin. He looked down at her with the same grin.

"I need it. Anyone could shoot me right now, I gotta be ready."

The thought of him getting shot and dying never really occurred to Candy. It was always overshadowed by her love for him. On occasions, he would have to dress himself in all black and grab his gun before leaving a party. He would say,

"It's just business that I need to fix."

Candy knew what he was doing. She just pretended not to hear the gunshots that echoed through the cold, damp streets.

She looked at him.

"Well, let's hope they don't shoot ya-"

She said before she was interrupted by a car honking. Both of their eyes shifted to the expensive cadillac. Candy's eyes scanned the inside of the car. The window rolled down to reveal Elvis. He was dressed rich as always, and he was wearing his signature sunny's.

"Get in this car, Candice."

He said sternly. Candy looked at him through her furrowed brows.

"I'm clearly busy. Sorry."

She said with a slight sass in her tone. Miles and Candy carried on walking until they were stopped again.

"Candice, I said get in car, now."

Elvis said, slightly raising his voice.

"Ok, gosh."

Candy said as she rolled her eyes. She got on her tiptoes and placed a sweet kiss on Miles's lips before getting in the car. Elvis began to drive at a fast speed.

"So are you gonna tell me why I'm in your car, or what."

She said. Elvis looked at her before shifting his eyes back to the road.

"We need a little talk at my place."

He said. His voice was hauntingly raspy. She decided to shut her mouth as she could see his fury building.

She walked into Graceland as Elvis followed. It was amazing as usual. The diamond chandler and the pure white carpet gave life to the house. Elvis escorted her over to the living room. He pointed his finger towards the sofa, urging her to sit. She did just that.

Elvis pulled a stool out and sat directly in front of her. His eyes shot her down as she was left confused and a little intimidated.

"Ok, so."

Elvis said. Her bambi eyes stared at him in curiosity as she sat put on the comfy sofa that wasn't so comfy under Elvis' glare.

"I need to talk to you about your behaviour these last few months."

Her brows furrowed as she looked at him through her eyelashes.

"You've started to become one of those naughty kids. It ain't a good look, doll."

She looked at him and pulled a face before crossing her arms.

"Don't be like that, you know I'm right. You've been doing some bad things, don't think I don't know. I see you with that gangster boyfriend of yours smoking. He's a bad influence on ya, doll."

Elvis said as his head moved from side to side in disapproval. She looked at him, her jaw wide, and her feelings offended.

"My boyfriend is not a bad influence!"

She snapped like venom.

"He is. Ever since you met him, you've been drugged up or doing some stupid shit with him. It's not healthy."

She swallowed harshly at his words. Her crossed arms relaxed as her brows downturned. Her fingers entwined with eachover, like a knot.

"He is a good guy. He just likes to have fun."

She said quietly as she broke eyecontact. Elvis leaned forward, his eyes scanning every small detail of her face.

"It won't be very fun to see him shoot someone with that damn gun that he carries. He's in a gang goddammit! You ain't safe with him, sweetheart."

Elvis said harshly. His breath hit her face.

"He loves me, and I love him. That's all that matters."

She said as her eyes looked into his. Elvis' head shook once more as he kissed his tongue.

"I'm just trying to help you. Your mother is worried about you, and quite frankly, I am too."

Elvis said softly. His tone was much more relaxed. She looked up at him, her words ripped from her voice box. She didn't say anything. She knew that he was right. She couldn't fight the truth.

"I want you to stop seeing him."

Her heart shattered like glass as her veins burst, making an opening in her little grey heart.

"No! You ain't my momma!"

"Your momma is the one that wanted me to say this to you. Listen, if you don't leave him... then you're coming to live with me. That's final. Don't even try to argue because your momma has agreed to this."

She was too stunned to speak. A single tear rolled from her doll eyes and down her soft cheek. She looked at him in disbelief before standing up and leaving. The door slammed, and Elvis was left in the empty house. No noise, no people, just him. He stared at the spot that She had previously been sat in. He felt bad for her, but how else was she gonna change her ways.

The following school day

Candy walked hand in hand with Miles. Making sure not to let him go. Miles kissed her forehead as they walked. She looked up at him with a shimmer in her big eyes. Her eyelashes batted as she admired her boy, her gangster. He smelt of weed and alchohol, but that was the smell of love. She loved him, and no one was going to come between that, not even Elvis. She loved him with every inch of her cocaine heart. She loved his white powder lines and his collar greens. She loved his money and his gifts. She loved his AK-47s and his pistols. She loved him. They walked out of the school as the bell rang. She was following him like a lost puppy, as usual. She was like his shadow. He gripped her hand tightly as they walked along the sidewalk. A big smile was plastered on her delicate face. That same smile that lightened the sky up when she was a little girl. She looked up at him before placing a candy sweet kiss on his cheek that had a teardrop tattooed onto it. He looked down at her, his head bent down towards her face.

They were both suddenly interrupted by a loud car engine, moving dangerously close to them. Their heads turned to face the Cadillac. Candy's eyes looked the driver in the eyes. It was Elvis. She rolled her doll eyes and crossed her arms as she watched him get out of the car in a fit of rage. He looked scary. His fists were clenched, and his teeth were grinded. Miles looked him up and down before chuckling.

"Get in this goddamn car. Now."

He grunted as he took a step closer. She looked at him before looking up at Miles.

"No!"

She said as she stepped closer to Miles. Miles looked at Elvis before letting a laugh escape his mouth.

"Calm down, old man. You ain't gonna talk to my girl like that."

He said. His laugh was overshadowed by his anger that was slowly building up. Nobody was going to talk to his baby like that, not even Elvis Presley. Elvis scoffed before grabbing Candy's arm tightly. His grip was harsh, almost bruising. He dragged her towards the open car door. Miles looked at him in shock before reaching for his gun that was hidden in the waistband of his pants. But it was too late. Elvis had already shoved her in the car and sped off. Miles looked at the car as it drove into the distance. He felt a piece of his heart plummet into the depths of his soul. He let out a sigh as he stood there alone.

Meanwhile, in the car, Elvis was raging at Candy. His loud menacing voice was almost deafening.

"I told you that you aren't allowed to see that fucker again!"

His voice echoed around the car.

"You can't just stop me from seeing my boyfriend!"

She shouted back as tears escaped her glassy eyes. The salt water glistened on her cheeks, illuminating her face in the hot sun rays. His large hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Long veins coursed through his hands.

"Well, you know what's gonna happen now."

He said through his American white teethe. She looked up at him, her brows furrowed and her lip pouted.

"You can't just make me live with you. You can't just take me away from my family!"

She shouted.

"Oh yes, I can. Don't you know, your family are the ones that agreed to this. I'll teach ya a goddamn lesson."

She looked at him with her puppy eyes as warm salt water fell from them. Elvis always cared about Candy. He always had a soft spot for her. But she needed to be taught a lesson, and Elvis was the right person to punish her.

Graceland

Elvis gripped her arm harshly as he practically dragged her into the house since she was refusing. He let go of her once he closed the door. He threw his keys on the table and walked into the living room. He turned the television on and placed his jacket on the sofa. Candy stood there and looked at him curiously. He turned around to her, and his gaze softened. He slowly walked over to her before wrapping her in a big hug. His cologne lingered in her nose as his delicate touch softened her core.

"Aww, im sorry, baby. But you know that I have to keep you here, it's a request from your parents. Don't be upset."

He pulled away slightly to look down at her. His fingers ran through her soft, feathery hair as a soft smile played on his face. He leaned down and placed a kiss onto her forehead. Leaving behind his love. He held her hand softly before leading her upstairs.

"Come on baby, let's get you to your new room."

He said before opening the door to one of the guestrooms. He stepped inside with her. She looked around in awe. It was so pretty. It was painted pink and lined with dove white. It was girly and meant for a queen, like her. It was almost as if he had this room just for her. She walked over to the bed and sat herself down. She looked up at Elvis, who had a fatherly smile on his face. He sat next to her and draped his arm over her shoulder. He looked deeply into her eyes.

"Look, I know you will miss ya boyfriend, but you're gonna have to get used to it. You ain't gonna be seeing him again."

He said sweetly. She looked into his eyes. A look of sadness washed over her face like a tidal wave. Elvis' finger carresed her cheek softly and tilted her chin up towards him. His touch was heavenly, and his love was unearthly.

"Don't be sad, baby, I'll take good care of ya. I promise."

He said as the pad of his thumb played with her lips. She looked at him, and her eyes scanned his face.

"You're safe with me. Trust me."

He said before he got up. He tucked a hair behind her ear and placed a kiss on her forehead. He smiled sweetly before leaving the room. She watched him leave, and a smile cascaded her face slightly as some of her sadness washed away.

The next morning

Candy's eyes dwindled open as the sunrays played in her luscious hair. A warm summer breeze blew over her face, sending cherry blossoms through her veins. Elvis sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her with a smile. He was in a silk robe that let just the right amount of chest hair escape. His jet-black hair was messy.

"Good morning, doll."

He said. His morning voice was croaky and deep.

"Good morning, Elvis."

Candy said back before she yawned and stretched. She was so cute. Her hair was tangled, and her cheeks were puffy and pink. Elvis smiled.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

He inquired as his fingers played with her hair. She looked up at him with her glistening eyes.

"Can I have some cereal?"

She asked politely.

"Of course, baby."

He said before standing up. He walked over to the door and stopped in the doorway. He turned around to look at the sleeping beauty.

"I'll call you when it's ready."

He said before his shadow disappeared. Candy looked at the empty door way with her wandering eyes.

She sat in the dining room. She ate the rainbow cereal in silence. Elvis sat across from her and ate a pb&j sandwich. His eyes looked at her. She was so pretty in this state. Sun shining on her sun-kissed skin, pearly beady eyes, fresh and clean. She was like a dream.

"Is it good?"

Elvis asked.

"Mhm, very."

Candy said as she continued to eat. Elvis smiled slightly. He watched Candy finish the cereal. He stood up and picked her bowl up. He looked at her before bending down to her and wiping her milk moustache off with his hand. She giggled as he did this. He chuckled before walking over to the sink and placing the bowl in it. He turned back around to look at her.

"I want ya to go get changed. I brought you some dresses since you are staying with me. I wanna see how ya look in em."

He said.

"Ok."

She skipped up the stairs and into her room. She rummaged through the closet and pulled out a short white summer dress. She put it on. It perfectly exentuated her tanned legs and hugged her small waist. She went back downstairs to Elvis. He looked at her before a smile played on his face. His eyes wandered over her body before he commented.

"Ya look so pretty. My, my."

He said as he scanned the dress. Candy smiled slightly. Elvis was always close to her, but something about him just made him husband material to her.

"Thanks"

Candy said as she felt her soft cheeks heat up. Her fingers played with the soft thrilly ends of her dress. Elvis walked over to her until he was just inches away. His big hands found themselves around her waist, slowly wandering down to her hips. His alluring eyes looked down into her pretty beady ones. Candy's heart began to race.

"I don't want ya to ever think about that Miles guy, ya have me."

Elvis said in a raspy, low tone as his hands rubbed circles into her waist. She looked up at him and nodded in agreement. Elvis' face slowly inched closer to hers, almost as if he was going to kiss her. That's exactly what he did. His soft lips met with hers. Candy's heartbeat slowed as the world around her went silent. She felt as if time had stopped, and it was just her and Elvis in the world. Elvis' hands moved up to her face, gently cupping it as their tongues danced around eachover. She felt her eyes drift shut as they carried on. The summer breeze blew through the window and blew their hair back. The floating orbs around them became visible in the sunrays. Candy's hands moved to Elvis' neck, and she played with his black hair tactfully as they kissed. The birds sang a sweet melody, the war in Candy's mind ended, and the knot in her stomach undid itself. She kissed him until she saw stars in her eyes. He kissed her until his lips beckoned to be let go.

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rosecoloreddesire · 2 years

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Never Know How Much I Love You (Elvis 2022)

Austin!Elvis x reader

Summary: Your friends tell you it’s now or never to lose yourself to the pleasure of a one night stand. Though, what would you do if that one might stand was newcomer, Elvis Presley?

Note: Thank you for 200 followers! Just wrote this small thing while college finals were killing my brain last week so I hope it makes sense and y’all like it! This is supposed to mimic desperation and naïveté in one night stands :)

Warnings: SMUT! Minors DNI!

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, Kath! I can’t do that! I’d be embarassin’ myself in front of that Memphis boy if I did that!” You covered your face in mortification.

“Come on! You gotta admit y’all two had a real good connection on that stage! He was only lookin’ at ya! Ain’t that right, Patti?” Your older friend elbowed the love struck nerd in the side rather roughly. She wheezes out the air she was sobbing out earlier.

“Y-yes, Y/N. Go seduce that Presley boy so I can stare at the other talents.” She waved her manicured hand in the air as you rolled your eyes and huffed in defeat. What the hell were they thinking sending you to the hotel door step of THE rising star of the Louisiana Hayride?

“I gotta great idea! You can borrow some of my clothes! And Miss Dreams-a-Lot can do your makeup? Sound good? Good!” She stops you before you can even answer. You sip your milkshake in annoyance even if Kathy was buying. Why you out of this group? You all thought he was hot!

“Hey, you gotta live a little! Your parents ain’t gonna kill ya for havin’ a little fun! What do you thank they were doin’ at our age, purity!” You scoffed at the nickname and gulped the rest of your milkshake down.

“Fine! I’ll prove I ain’t no innocent little one time girl! Doll me up, chicks!”

————————

“I-I look so good. Holy smokes!” You pose in the mirror as the girls put the finishing touches on your seduction outfit of the night.

“You look like ya ready to snatch a man’s soul tonight!”

“Or his wallet.”

“Patti-“

“Sorry!” She raised her hands in defense as you twirled around. The dress was just tight enough that if your parents saw they’d keel over right that second.

“Y’all really think this is gonna work. That boy prolly has a type. And I don’t think this is it. “ you gesture to your whole body. Kathy pushes you and fixes a stray curl on the back of your hair.

“That boy has hundreds of girls falling at his feet. C’mon, it’s a worth a try. You may never get another chance! Also that lingerie underneath is too die for!” Kath places a gentle hand on your shoulder and gives you a soft smile.

“And hey, maybe he likes sleepin’ with the same girl. He seems like one of those innocent churchly types, ya know?” Patti fixes her lipstick and Kath elbows her again. Her lipstick going up her face. The two begin to bicker as you watch from your motel window. You watch as Elvis passes by. He’s unbuttoning his shirt and you bite your lip. The blue lace shirt looked ethereal on his skin in the pale moon light. You looked down at yourself once again and took a deep breath. You looked back at the pair and they continued to fight as you slipped out as quiet as you could. You watched as Elvis retreats into his room.

“Breathe, Y/N. We got this.” You smoothed your dress down to your body. You look through the small crack in his curtains. His shirt unbuttoned all the way and wincing on the phone. You could see the heart shaped paper on the rotary numbers. He has to be talking to his girl back home. What the hell were you thinking? God, he looks good though. All of your conscience is void as you wrap your knuckles to the door. The wood cold against your sweating hand. You begin to turn and try to forget you ever wanted to do this.

“Hey Scotty, I-“ his breath hitches as he notices your not his friend and band mate but something better. You smile up at him softly and walk in, dragging your hand along his bare chest as you pass.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m sorry if this is too forward but-“ Elvis’ hands are on your waist in seconds as yours fall around his nape. He stares down at you, biting his lip. His eyes are beautiful in the dark room as you feel your legs threatening to give out from beneath you.

“You are one brave chick for walk-in’ in like ya did. I like that. You a fan?” You shake your head as he chuckles.

“I-I mean yes but I ain’t one of those ones that sits outside your door waitin’ for ya. Sometimes they mistake my room for yours! It’s somethin’ awful!” His eyes flicker from your mouth to your e/c orbs. You decide to say screw it and pull him down towards you.

“You talk a lot, doll.” He smiles and you flush. Your hand drags down his chest as his breath hitches. Your hands are cold against his warm embrace.

“Then shut me up, Elvis.” A growl rips from his throat and his lips are on yours in seconds. He’s clearly just as new as you are to this but it feels otherworldly. His hands can’t find a place to sit and grasp your body wherever he can reach. His tongue traces your bottom lip, a moan squeaks from your throat as his tongue delves into your mouth. You take his hand and place it on your chest. His hand pulls the top of your dress down and all but tears your bra.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Y/N. Lord, bless me for you walkin’ your pretty little ass in here.” He bites his lip to stop from groaning. His lips and teeth attack your throat as he tries to calm himself down. Your neck and chest were wet and bruised as Elvis tried to clutch onto any sense of reason.

“E-Elvis, more. Please. Make me yours.” His hands are gripping your waist so hard you’re sure bruises will be the harshest reminder of what you’re getting yourself into. His eyes hardly leave your tits as he gulps audibly. His lips are hot and wet as he twirls his tongue around your budding nipple. A sharp gasp leaves your reddened lips. His grasp is harsh on your thighs as he spreads them apart.

“Look at you, baby. All this for me? You’re my pretty little play thing, right?” You nod desperately as you claw at his chest for any sort of touch. His lip caught between his teeth, a moan raring to leave his lips. He drags a finger up your dampened light blue panties. You whimper as he pulls them to the side. He blows his hot breath against your pussy, your voice caught in your throat. A smirk spreads across his face as he places a soft kiss to your begging clit.

“P-please. Elvis- AH” his mouth is on you before you can even get his name out from your mouth. His tongue is slow, teasing. His grip on your thighs are still harsh and commanding. Your grip on his hair makes him chuckle and the vibration sends you into a frenzy. He pulls away as quickly as he started and looks down at you. Unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. Rubbing up and down your pussy. You grip his shoulders, the warmth of his body was the only thing left to ground your mind as you slowly delved into this sinful act.

“I’m sorry, mama. I need to feel you is that alright? We can sto-“ a growl is torn from his chest as you take his cock in your hand and push him inside slowly.

“You are so big, fuck. Shit, more please.” He nods and places his hands beside your head on the pillows.

“You look and f-feel divine. Lord, you are so fuckin’ hot.” His head falls between your neck and shoulder. His teeth scraping against your throat. Was he this possessive with all those girls at his door? Your nails are sharp on his back as he hisses at the feeling. His hips bucking tougher than before.

“More. Fuck me, Elvis!” You scrunch your eyes closed as his cock delves deeper inside you. You want to remember the feeling of Elvis inside you. Lord knows that this will be the first and only time you’ll have this sensation deep within you. Elvis is whimpering now as you tighten around him. No longer keeping his moans hidden as he loses himself.

“Fuck, I wanna- can I cum inside you?” Your hands are gripping the pillows beneath you as you nod. God, you didn’t want this night to be over but holy hell was this boy doing a number on you!

“I’m gonna cum!” The two of you are sweaty as Elvis lays on top of you. His cum drips out onto the hotel sheets and he apologizes while grabbing some towels. He grabs a satin shirt of his and helps you into it as he placed a soft kiss to your head.

“I-I don’t usually do that sorta thing, mama.” You smile.

“I don’t either.”

——————-

“YOU LEFT HIS HOTEL BEFORE HE WOKE UP? You’re kiddin’!” Kath all but screams as you enter the door way to y’all’s room. You pulled his shirt tighter to your body as she scanned you.

“Look at her, Kath! She’s covered in bites! She really did do it! Look at you, purity!” Patti comes up to hug you and you wince. Your shame was rising higher by the minute.

“You do know we’re followin’ him to the next show right?” Your jaw dropped.

“KATH! We are not! What in the sam hell do you think you are? You tell me to go do somethin’ and I did it!” The two girls sit you down and help you cover up the marks on your visible skin and obvious bags under your eyes. You sigh.

“At least this one tonight, Y/N? Maybe, he liked ya! And he’ll wanna see you more?” You rolled your eyes and looked at yourself in the mirror feeling a pity that sunk its claws within your features. It was dark last night there was no way he’d be into you. You weren’t anyone’s type.

“Let’s go. As long as y’all are gonna get me a milkshake after.” The pair hug you and rush to their suitcases for their clothes.

“Deal!”

————————

“Backstage?! C’mon girls. You have gotta be pullin’ my leg here!” Kathy takes your hand and you three sit on a bench in the back watching as Elvis performed. You’d never tire of seeing it as the electricity of his passion shot through your very being every time. Soon you find yourself thinking of last night. The way he gently caressed your body and then grasped it like you were going to disappear. His lips…how full and sweet they tasted. You drift off and tune back in when you hear familiar panting.

“Thanks, guys. Was that good? Is that wigglin’ thing really all that?” His band mates were handing him towels and water as he stood drenched in sweat. You turn to tell Patti you needed to go and that’s when you see the two had left you. You try to hide your face but it’s too late as you hear a light laugh coming from the boy.

“I-I- think the wigglin’ was just fine, Elvis.” Your voice is meek as he stalks closer to you. His hand curls underneath your chin.

“You’ve got a lot of bravery comin’ back to me a second time, lil’ birdie.” His eyes are dark and firmly on yours as you stutter a response.

“I-I’’m sorry I didn’t think you’d want me to stay-“ His lips and tongue are harsh as he covers your body with his. The heat of his body is dizzying as you grab onto his suit jacket with all your strength. His body isn’t close enough. His taste is addicting. The clothes on his body needed to be off.

“Who said you weren’t mine, lil’ birdie? Didn’t you say you wanted me to make you mine,” your eyes are glossed over as he pulls your chin to lessen the gap between you both. You gasp as he forced you to look at him, “Hm? Give me an answer, mama.” You nod as he gives you a stern look.

“Yes. Yes, Elvis.”

“That’s my good girl.”

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #austin butler #austin butler elvis #rosecoloreddesire #elvissmut #elvisfluff #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis film

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kaynai-sama · 7 months

Text

MY BABY BROTHER'S GROWING UP SO FAST😭😭

Lil Bro: MARTIN WHAT THE HECK IS THAT GROUP NAME?!

You: Sorry, I had to 🥺

Bro in law: I think it's cute :)

Lil Bro: Hun, don't help him...

Violet Girlboss: Guys, what is this group for, if I want to know? 🤨

Yellow Girlboss: Maybe it's just for Martin to put his drama -_-

You: Hey!

It's true, tho.

Lil Bro: Oh my, here we go...

You: I'm in my right! You never told me you were marrying him!

Lil Bro: But I did decided to tell you we're datimg.

You: Yeah, but you better told Kathy Jimmy about your engamenet with him than telling me ;(.

Lil Bro: They're his closest friends!

You: And I'm your brother... I feel betrayed.

Bro in law: Emm, may I make a confession?

It was actually me who told him not to tell you...

You: Really? Why?

Kathy: Because he thought you were intimidating XD

You: What?

Wait...

What?

Bro in law: Alright, yes, a little -_-.

Pizza guy😎: What did I miss?.mp3

Dude the group name! 🤣🤣

Lil Bro: STOP!

Kathy: Stop the Hamilton references, man.

You: I never should've showed you that musical.

Litteraly I can hear Non stop from here!

Pizza guy😎: Two hours and fourty minutes totally worth to go through.

Violet Girlboss: I don't find it that bad.

Pizza guy😎: Now that Martin has set up his drama, what comes next?

Bro in law: Has the wedding planner said anything to you guys?

Lil Bro: No, I'm starting to worry.

Like, he hasn't answered any of my calls.

Bro in law: Chris, I can feeeeel your stress, you need to calm down, he's probably checking on that other event he's working on too.

Lil Bro: I know, I know, he's very busy.

We have half of the things already decided so I'm happy for that.

Bro in law: See? Those are the things we're focusing on.

You: Soo, what's next?

Lil Bro: First of all, change the group name.

You: No can do.

Yellow Girlboss: Hey, I thought we were all here in the Tortuga, where's Andy and Jimmy?

Pizza Guy😎: We grabbed your motorbike, sorry. We found some kind of a ghost camp and we went there.

Violet Girlboss: Ghost camp? In the Amazon Rainforest?

Kathy: Since when do you go to those kind of things, Jimmy?

Bro in law: I forced him to come with me. :)

Don't worry, he's fine.

Pizza Guy😎: Yeah, I'm fine. (HELP)

Lil bro: Andy, you're unveliebable.

Bro in law: And yet I still got you to accept marrying me, didn't I? 😘

You: Can you not be corny for just FIVE minutes?

Bro in law: No can do 😉

You: I will punch you.

Kathy: Alright dude, stop it.

Pizza Guy😎: Knowing Martin would be like this maybe I would've not introduced you to Andy.

Lil bro: Introducing me to him might have just been the best thing you've ever done for me, my buddy.

Pizza Guy😎: Wait, for real?

Bro in law: Aww, you do love me :3

Lil bro: Of course I love you, why do you think I said yes?

You: Oh geez...

Violet Girlboss: Un aplauso a esta pareja que está enamorada!!!!

Kathy: 🎉🎉👏👏👏👏

Pizza Guy😎: So your whole relationship is thanks to me?

Kathy: Oh, here he comes.

Pizza Guy😎: Andy, I'm going to be your bestman yes or yes! Because without me you probably wouldn't have met Chris!

Bro in law: Dude, you're already my bestman😐

Yellow Girlboss: Sorry to ruin the chick-lit vibe but I'm getting sings of villain activity.

Pizza Guy😎: Ah, great, what do they want?

You: Chris, grab your creature power suit!

Lil Bro: On it.

Violet Girlboss: Who is it?

Yellow Girlboss: Seems like Gourmand.

You: Send us the coordinates, we'll be there soon.

Lil bro: We'll be back in no time.

Bye, hun.

Bro in law: Kick his ass, baby!💗

#c+a? au #wild kratts #wild kratts au #chris kratt #martin kratt #aviva corcovado #koki wild kratts #jimmy z #Kaynai oc

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disabledfurry · 5 months

Text

John Lee Clark:

"Since then, though, protest has remained the primary mode. Perhaps it’s because Deaf people’s cultures and languages continue to be marginalized. Protest is a worthy, logical response, but it can also be limiting. Instead of the full range of our realities and imaginations, we get drawn into arguments we did not choose for ourselves. For example, “visual music” and “ASL is beautiful” are the two most common tropes in Deaf poetry, working to counter audist notions of deafness and muteness; meanwhile, in real life, Deaf people are busy cooking, videochatting, texting, dating, raising families, and making transactions, not all of them legal. I realized that I needed to write beyond these arguments, not to leave behind our causes or obscure my identity, but to claim more and more space in which we can just be."

Jim Ferris:

"We. I presume, I claim an “us,” even though there are myriad ways of embodying (and denying) disability, and no two disabled people’s experiences are the same. Disabled people are well schooled, whether impairment is acquired early or late, to identify with and aspire to be as much like nondisabled people as possible.

But if we don’t claim our difference, if we don’t write disability, the normies will keep doing it for us. It is crucial that we don’t keep leaving the field to them, even when we love them. Even when they tell us it’s for our own good."

Jillian Weise: "I like John’s point: “We get drawn into arguments we did not choose for ourselves.” Sometimes I feel like I would rather talk about Kathy Acker. But what does the word “disability” mean? Is it useful to me? Can I get some heat from it? I am reminded of what Borges said to his nephew, “If you behave, I’ll give you permission to think of a bear.” Most often, I think about disability when I am asked to think about it. Then I feel an obligation to behave.

[...]

Yes, there is ableism. One able-bodied writer said to me, “Jillian, do you know why we use disabled speakers?” Do tell, Grandmaster. “Because all writers are outsiders and disabled speakers are the most outsider.” Noted. But I also hear this kind of thing: another writer once wrote to me, “I wish your book was not so dominated by disability poems.” And there’s the trap of ableism: disability is for able-bodied writers to write, because it’s easy for them, and they don’t have to think too hard about it, but disabled writers should stay out of it altogether."

John Lee Clark: "I agree with Jillian. Editors really need to start rejecting that kind of bad poetry. But I’m more concerned about what they do reject as “too niche,” “not a fit,” or simply “not poetic material.” Isn’t that funny? They are happy to publish poems with made-up disabled speakers, but these are mainly by poets who aren’t disabled, or, which is sometimes worse, by poets who are disabled but follow the “script.” You get a very good idea of what’s expected of you when editors ask you, “Why don’t you include something about how hard it is to be deaf?” or, “Why don’t you write about the things you miss seeing?” I get tired of explaining that it isn’t hard to be deaf or that I don’t regret becoming blind."

John Lee Clark:

"There’s something amiss — and missing — in publishing. Thirty million Americans are Deaf or hard of hearing. Add to that twenty-two million for the blind slice of the pie, and millions more for other groups — physical disabilities, different kinds of intelligences, and the rest — and what do we have? Nearly a quarter of the total population? Thanks to the capitalist interests driving the medical industries, that number is always growing, as more and more things are targeted as “abnormal” and in need of treatment. Disability is a major, major realm. But you wouldn’t know it from reading literary magazines or any of the “name” anthologies."

Jim Ferris: "How to change that bias? My best answer is to write the poems that you want and need to read, and keep sending stuff out there. (I’m speaking to myself as much as anyone else here.) Because there are editors and publishers and most importantly readers who are open to our work, who want our work, whether they know it before they see it or not. One of my poems is in part about rejecting messages that disabled people get about changing or at least hiding their nonconforming bodies. I have been repeatedly surprised at how powerfully that poem speaks to others who have heard such messages, particularly breast cancer survivors. I had no idea. What a robust reminder that my job is to make these little paper airplanes as well and as beautifully as I can and then sail them out into the breeze. How far they fly, where they land, what happens after they land — this is none of my business, except as it helps me to make the next airplanes better. My work is to make them and sail them — and then make more."

Jillian Weise: "May I talk about a different swindle? I was told there are speakers of poems and I believed it. When I invented disabled speakers I was told, “Those aren’t speakers. That’s you.” With minority writing, then, you don’t get the privilege of yourself. Self is constructed elsewhere. You are expected to be the speaker and represent the minority. Though, as Jim mentions, we’re not recognized as a minority yet. You are expected to be moral and teach. I think this is why Amiri Baraka wrote “Fuck poems / and they are useful.” Or what Laura Hershey meant by “Everything you say will prove something about / their god, or their economic system.”

I think there are certain kinds of disabled poems that some publishers want: the speaker overcomes disability; the speaker’s friend/relative is disabled or diagnosed; the speaker notices a disabled person on the side of the road. I avoid those poems at all costs."

Jennifer Bartlett: "Editors also may fear the considerations of “disability poetry”; real truths about prejudices and studies on the difficulties of the corporeal. No one wants to read that! It’s too scary. What people want to read in terms of disability is the aspect of how awful and difficult it can be. This leads readers to develop empathy (or her naughty sister pity), which is something they can connect with.

I have a current manuscript that questions and pushes the issue of ableism in a direct way. I’ve had a really hard time getting it published. I often am slow to publish, but sometimes I wonder whether the manuscript has been in limbo for so long due to its content. I try to imagine an able-bodied publisher who will publish a book directly challenging ableism. I do not have an answer."

from the article "disability and poetry", an interview with Jennifer Bartlett, John Lee Clark, Jim Ferris, and The Cyborg Jillian Weise, here: x

#god i adore this.#poetry #writing #ableism #disability #cripple punk #hi.

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jerzwriter · 2 years

Text

Simple Pleasures

What are the Carricks doing this Valentine's Day? Waiting on their little one and loving each other. And no one could capture the moment quite like Aianna! 💗

I'm sending a huge thank you to @lucy-268 for gifting me a commission from @/artbyainna for my birthday. I was so incredibly excited to create this - and since Kathy is my fellow Tobias stan - I hope she loves it as much as I do! You are the best, Kathy! 💗

Simple Pleasures 💗💗💗

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey Carrick)

Featuring: Ethan Ramsey, Sienna Trinh

Rating: Teen +

Warnings: SLIGHT sensuality at the very end

Category: Valentine's/Domestic Fluff

Words: 2,000

Summary: Tobias is driving himself crazy trying to create the perfect Valentine's Day for his new wife and momma-to-be. Meanwhile, Casey forgot about it until the last moment, then worried she couldn't make it special. Luckily, they heeded good advice from friends and went on to enjoy a beautiful evening together.

A/N: Since Kathy was kind enough to gift this to me I merged in a prompt she requested: having sleepless nights because they can't think of the perfect gift. I'm participating in @choicesficwriterscreations Valentine Event. @choicesflashfics - prompt 1 in bold below. @choicesholidays - Let's have a baby. @choices-february2023 Day 9 - "Maybe I'm Amazed", and lastly @choicesmonthlychallenge "To Be" luv you, hubba hubba, I'm urs,

An unexpected snowstorm had blanketed Boston overnight, and no matter how accustomed residents were to this, it didn’t make the morning commute any easier. Still, being a doctor didn’t afford Tobias the luxury of staying home. So his inability to sleep finally worked to his advantage. He marched into the team's office with time to spare; it may have required the two cups of java he carried in each hand, but somehow, he made it and was awake. A double win.

Ethan raised cocked his head in the direction of his almost comatose friend.

“Good morning,” he chirped, in a tone far too cheery for Tobias to take.

“Mmmh.. yeah,” he mumbled without enthusiasm.

“You know, you should consider moving a little closer to the hospital. Especially with the baby on the way. If you were in my neighborhood, you probably could have tacked on an extra thirty minutes of sleep, even in this weather.”

Tobias was all but sleeping, so Ethan’s advice went unheard. Looking to ensure no one else was in earshot, Ethan upped the ante. He knew would get his friend’s attention.

“Plus, if you moved, you and Casey could run home for your little afternoon rendezvous. Then I wouldn’t have to field complaints from your neighboring offices.”

“Mmmm,” Tobias mumbled, resting his head on his hand, his eyes beginning to shut. "That's nice."

Ethan was concerned. There is no way Tobias would pass up a verbal sparring match after that. Undeterred, he tried one more time.

"... and then I dropped my trousers during the middle of my speech, swiveled my hips, and shook my skin snake for the audience to see. They were quite impressed.”

"Hmmm... oh, that's good...." Tobias muttered.

"Really? I thought discussing my skin snake would get your attention.”

"Wait… your WHAT?" Tobias startled.

"Finally! What has you in such a daze? I haven't seen you this quiet, well... ever."

"I haven't been able to sleep...it’s been over a week now.”

“Well, with Casey going into her third trimester, I’m sure sleep is more difficult for her, and you’re bound to be impacted, but….”

“But she’s sleeping fairly well… better than me if we’re being honest.”

Ethan scrunched his brow in concern. “Has something got you worried?”

Tobias chuckled as he ran his hands down his weary face. “Well, I don’t know. My wife's pregnant, we have a baby on the way… I’m constantly worried about both of them. Then, I’m going to be a DAD in a few months. A Dad? Me? Can you believe it?”

“It's a horrifying thought. This is why I’ve always supported certification and licensing to be a parent. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way.”

That seemed to awaken Tobias, who shot back. “Screw you, Ramsey.”

“You don’t want to screw me, Tobias,” Ethan laughed. “But, seriously, you’ve been jumping out of your skin with excitement about this baby from the moment Casey learned she was pregnant. So what has you so rattled now? Is reality setting in?”

“No. I can’t tell you. You’ll judge me.”

“Probably,” Ethan confirmed. “But I’d still be here for you.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Tobias sighed.

“Valentine’s Day? I hate to compliment you, but you seem to have had a knack for nailing that holiday down since med school. Now, you have a pregnant wife who adores you, so what do you have to worry about?”

“Because I have a pregnant wife who adores me. Casey, she’s… she’s everything. She’s given me so much, and now I see what she’s going through to have our child. I want to make this special for her, and nothing I have thought of is good enough.”

A small smile tugged at Ethan’s lips. “Tobias, it’ll be fine, and it’s not worth losing sleep over.”

“I was talking to my Ma. She said I could go to the vault, maybe get a piece of heirloom jewelry….”

“OK, slow down….” Ethan interrupted. “Now I see the problem. Vivian is an amazing woman, and I know she means well. But now I understand why your brain is going haywire. Tobias, Casey is more of a homemade cupcake than an heirloom jewelry person, you know that.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Tobias smirked. “She seems to enjoy my family jewels.”

“Annnnd he’s back,” Ethan laughed. “Seriously, don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Casey will be happy just spending time with you.”

“Kerry said, too.”

“So your two best friends vs. your well-meaning but…”

“Insane mother….”

“You said it, not me! Just keep it simple and get some rest tonight. Can you do that?”

“I’m sure gonna try.”

~~~~~

Back at Casey & Tobias’s townhome, Sienna fixed her best friend a cup of herbal tea and brought it to her on the couch when it was done.

“I really could have gotten that myself, Si,” Casey insisted. “But I do appreciate it.”

“You could have, but not while I’m here. Your doctor said you need to rest when you’re off duty, and I’m making sure that you do!”

“Mmm,” Casey said, sipping her tea. “You sound just like Tobias.”

“Good! This way, I don’t have to kick his butt.”

“I’m glad you approve of my husband," Casey teased.

“You know I do,” Sienna smiled. “He takes such good care of you, I would have believed it when I first met him.”

Casey beamed as she took a moment to reflect. “You know, he is the man he always was. He just needed….”

“You!” Sienna grinned.

“Yeah, and I needed him too.”

“You two are so adorable! What have you got planned for Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh, shit!” Casey exclaimed. “I completely forgot! It’s tomorrow! Now I won’t have time to do anything special.”

“Define special? All you really need is each other.”

“But I wanted to do something really nice for him. I always get so frustrated because he’s impossible to buy for. The man has everything.”

Sienna snorted, earning her a peculiar stare from her friend.

“What?” Casey asked.

“Isn’t that how you ended up doing the boudoir shoot for him? And isn’t that what led to….” Sienna’s cheeks turned red as she pointed to Casey’s rounded belly. “That was one hell of a gift!”

“Yeah,” Casey giggled. “Jackie will never let me live that down. But you have to admit, I succeeded. I got him something he loves, and I gave the man who has everything something he never had before.”

“So, then your Valentine's Day gift is taken care of already!”

“That gives me an idea!” Casey enthused. “I did buy a teddy bear for him last week and some of his favorite chocolates… and you just made me realize I have the final touch.”

Sienna scrunched her nose in confusion. “If you say so. I’m glad I could be of help.”

“You always are, Sienna. Now, I need red paint!”

~~~~~

Valentine’s Day arrived at the Carrick's, and the delicious aroma of steak burritos filled the air. Tobias was overjoyed as he watched his wife delving into the meal he prepared. The way her eyes shut, and the noises she was making... she usually reserved those for different activities... so he knew she was happy, and that made him happy, too.

“Mmmm,” she hummed with a full mouth. “These are so good!”

“Only the best for my girl. Besides, I know my burritos make you happy.”

Casey pulled the fork from her mouth and smirked. “Are we still talking dinner here?”

“We’re talking whatever you like,” he chuckled. Leaning across the table, he gently tugged her head toward him, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day!”

Eager to get the rest of the night underway, he began to clear the table. “So, where do you want to have dessert and open gifts? In the living room or upstairs?”

“That depends. What’s for dessert?”

“I made homemade cupcakes and got us a vintage bottle of sparkling cider.”

“Ooh, trying to get me tipsy,” she quipped. “It’s nothing messy, so why don’t we go to the bedroom. But, T, promise me you didn’t go overboard on gifts.”

Tobias raised one hand in the air. “Scouts honor! I swear! Ma tried to convince me to gift you some family jewels, but I told her we were keeping it simple…” then his heart sank when he saw Casey begin to pout.

“Really?”

“What? Would you have liked… I could always still get you something… I just didn’t think….”

“Tobias,” Casey winked. “I’m teasing. Besides, my favorite Carrick family jewels are already right here in our house.”

Shaking his head in laughter, he let out a little moan scooping his wife up in his arms.

“You see, MacTavish….”

“Uh, that's Carrick, thank you very much!”

“Oh, that’s right, that’s right! Give me some time, baby; it’s only been three months.”

“Mmmm.”

“But seriously,” he smiled. “This is why you’re my perfect match? I’d never want to be married to anyone but you.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me!” She took his hand and placed it atop her swollen belly. “Well, with us.”

“And that’s why I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

~~~~~

Casey rushed upstairs to finish preparing Tobias’s gifts while he gathered dessert. She put a red, heart-shaped box of candy on his nightstand and sat a teddy bear, wearing a pink t-shirt… just like hers… at her side. Then she hiked the front of that shirt up to under her breasts to expose the rest of his gift, finishing just as he walked in the door.

“What the….” Howling with laughter, Tobias needed to place the tray of desserts to the side.

“Please tell me you’re laughing because you think this is adorable, not ridiculous,” Casey asked with pleading eyes.

“Do you even have to ask ?” He slipped into bed at her side and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “So,” he put his hand over the big red heart she painted on her belly. “Is this my Valentine?”

Casey nodded impishly. “I’m making it just for you. Well, and for me, too. I’m making it for us… and your Mom… she’d kill me if I didn’t include her… and my parents but… but mostly you.”

“And it's the best gift you could ever give me.”

Leaning over to his side of the bed, he pulled up a bouquet of red roses and put them in her arms.

“I’m afraid my gift pales by comparison.”

“Nonsense! You know I love roses.”

“Hey, I got you chocolates too!” He beamed, offering her a large, fancy box.

“Even better,” she squealed, eyeing the teddy bear in his hands. “Oh! And you got me a teddy bear? I got you a teddy bear, too!”

“Hey, slow down there, greedy,” he teased. “Don’t be so presumptive! The candy and flowers are for you, but this little guy, he’s a gift for our little girl.”

“We don’t know that it’s a girl.”

“I do!” he beamed.

Casey looked at the tiny brown bear holding a big red heart. “Aww… it says I love you! It’s perfect!”

“Do you want to give your bear to the baby, too?” he asked.

“Oh… oh, no…” she chortled, handing him his bear. “I don’t think that would be good.”

“I’m Horny!” Tobias exclaimed, his eyes crinkling as laughter echoed off the walls. “Really, Casey?”

“Well, I am! I mean, sure, we still do it more than the average American couple….” She started as her husband lowered his lips to her neck.

“That’s why people are so grumpy,” he breathed.

“I agree! But... we have been a little tired lately... with me pregnant and you never sleeping... so while we're still ahead of the average, we're not living up to our personal best, and that leaves me a little...."

Tobias stopped kissing her just long enough to answer. “Horny?”

“YES! But now you see why the baby can’t have this bear.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “We’re gonna pass on that."

He swopped back up and kissed her lips as he gently pushed her back onto the bed. Her hands moved up his muscular chest, then wrapped behind his neck as he eagerly explored her every curve. Relishing his touch, Casey tilted her head back with a faint whimper, which left her husband smiling with delight.

“You like that, baby?” he hissed.

“Mmmm….” was all she could manage.

“Then I think I have one more gift for you tonight.”

“Does it involve the family jewels?” Casey giggled.

“You better believe it!”

“YES!” She blurted, raising a fist in the air.

Laughing uncontrollably, Tobias fell to her side and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“You know, the word ‘love’ doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I feel for you.”

“And I feel the same way about you….” Casey purred. “Now, do I need to pull my bear out? Or are you going to give me that last gift you were speaking of?”

Tobias's eyes were bright as he slipped his hands under her shirt, eagerly pulling it over her head.

“With pleasure.”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @openheartfanfics

OH Tags: @annfg8 @binny1985 @coffeeheartaddict2 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @parisa-kh @queencarb @wanderingamongthewildflowers

Tobias: @icecoffee90 @kyra75

@openheartfanart

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