#captain charming to lana del rey

[vasfasan]

He used to call me DN

That stood for deadly nightshade

'Cause I was filled with poison

But blessed with beauty and rage

Jim told me that

He hit me and it felt like a kiss

Jim brought me back

Reminded me of when we were kids

[elsweetheart]

jealous girl — basketball!abby anderson au

synopsis: when the other girls on your cheer squad relentlessly show interest in your girlfriend, the captain of the basketball team — you feel the undying urge to claim her as yours and yours only.

♪ jealous girl — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪

cw: reader is a cheerleader / athletic, girl drama, alcohol, reader gets very possessive, jealousy and insecurity for no reason tbh, angst??? reader cries a bunch what’s new, smut, use of strap on, housewife kink, dom top abby, sub bottom reader, a little bit of overstim if you squint? fem reader, lmk if i missed anything!

an: omg hi! i’m so nervous to post this omg. i hope you like the route i took this down! reader can be kind of annoying but stick with it. minors you are not welcome here so don’t interact and ageless blogs you will be blocked. also please don’t ask for a part two! there will not be one! anyways hope you enjoy it bbs ! likes and reblogs welcome ♡

Winner. Scholar. First place.

And that was just the first shelf of Abby’s trophy cabinet. She’d been given the premier student accommodation. You know, the apartments they reserve for their most promising students. Sleek grey cabinets and polished floors, a kitchen to die for — it was no wonder you were barely ever at your own shitty little dorm. Every tri coloured ribbon that hung proudly beside her winnings wore a gleaming gold pendant on the end — just another display of her success. Walking around her sleek scholar apartment was so familiar to you that the glimmering display cabinet barely caught your eye anymore, but each time it did it welcomed a blossom of pride in your chest for your girlfriend, Abby Anderson.

Abby — casual rugby player, frequent at the boxing society, known for wooing her professors into raising her grades by showing up with her own engraved golf club to their country club and wowing them with her swing. But she was known for one thing and one thing only around campus, and that was being the captain of the basketball team.

She was ruthless, six feet and two inches of pure muscle and willpower on the court. The blonde braid, her trademark, swishing against her toned back — and if you’re seeing it, it’s because she’s already passed you with the ball that you had just bounced. You were no stranger to the sound of the orange ball thudding against laminate floors, and the squeaking of sneakers. Infact, it’s what brought the two of you together. No, you were not on the basketball team. You, were a cheerleader.

Not the captain, although that would have been beautifully cliche; the basketball ball team captain dating the captain of the cheerleading squad — take a shot every time you read the word captain, no seriously, quickest way to get wasted. You were happy that way, however. When you weren’t dancing, you were shy by nature. The change in your demeanour was a shock to the system every time — countless frat douches and friendly party goers stepping away wide eyed when they’d approach you, hoping for cheerleader charm and instead being met with a flustered squeak. It took a while for Abby to get through to you infact, as you can imagine — being a campus celebrity and all — approaching the shy girl was a mission she was willing to try again and again at, warming you up until you were eating right out of her big coarse palm.

The memory of your first meeting was still something that made her chuckle. She’d been crushing on you for a while before even saying a word — stealing heated glances at you whilst you were dancing or being tossed in the air — whilst you of course were convinced you had hallucinated The Abby Anderson acknowledging your existence. She was tired of stiffening up at your demure glances and flustered smiles directed at her, so all but marched over to you after winning a huge game. Pumped full of adrenaline, chest heaving as she chased her breath — you in her laser vision. You noticed the hair stuck to her forehead before she even spoke, the shape of an S.

“Hi—”

“I’m Abby.” She breathed out, like a total loser — she’d add.

“I… I know. I’m—”

“I know. Let me take you out. Please?” Don’t beg, Abby. “I asked your roommate if you liked girls.” You did not have to tell her that, jheez. Creep much?

“Oh…?” You couldn’t seem to close your mouth, trying to process what was happening and happening fast. For a moment you questioned whether you’d taken a tumble on that last cartwheel, currently blacked out on the floor in a concussion-hazed dream. Ooh, maybe Abby is carrying you to the infirmary.

“You can say no.” She rambled. She looked nervous for a moment and when you started to smile, so did she. “But… don’t.”

So you didn’t.

Abby was a dream. After you’d said yes, her confidence was slammed back into her and she was busying herself with planning ways to make you hers. She was confident and naturally dominant (Opening regular doors for you, opening car doors for you, hand on your lower back when you walked together…) without being arrogant. Humble, whilst holding herself with a presence that commanded nothing short of respect. She’d taken you for milkshakes for your first date, and you’d clicked instantly. Abby did everything right, which made your face hot and stomach clench up in nerves at the idea of doing something wrong infront of her. But that feeling melted away, the only two people in the small but admirable diner — Abby carrying the conversation for long enough until your shyness melted away, catching yourself in giggle fuelled rambles and debates.

You’d kissed her on the cheek at the end of the first date. So innocent, so sweet — she remembers thinking. She let you have that, didn’t try and go in for a kiss on the lips, stood outside your building. She was happy with her decision when you pulled back and just looked so fucking proud of yourself for taking such a leap. You exchanged some kind words, some gratitude with the small and humble bouquet Abby had showed up at your door with tucked under your arm — before you were flouncing away in your little sundress. Abby touched her hot cheek when she walked away, smiling ear to ear. Her fingertips grazed over a slightly sticky outline, and she picked up her pace to get home so that she could look in the mirror and catch the sight of your lipstick print on her face.

Current day, and you’re puffing out your cheeks — stepping into the sweaty auditorium. The humidity is a little stifling and you frown in disapproval, wondering when they’re going to be getting the fans fixed like they said they would. This time, tucked beneath your arm is Abby’s white water bottle, college logo printed along the side, that she’d left in your dorm when she’d dropped by the night before. Your eyes searched the room to spot her, and it didn’t take long as she pretty much towered over everyone — you stopped for a moment at the edge of the sports floor, chest inflamed by the sight of your squad members surrounding her, giggling.

You hate to say it, but whatever stereotype or rumour you’d heard about cheerleaders is true. Especially at your college, there was something so criminally But, I’m a Cheerleader (1999) about your squad in particular. You didn’t like to get involved in the drama, but sapphic drama was not unfamiliar to you. It was bizarre, everyone was friends — but their sporty girlfriends from outside of the team were getting passed around like peas. Abby had always been an object of their affection, but before you had started dating her she seemed out of reach — due to the fact the blonde quite literally never even glanced their way, too focused on the game, and whispers of ‘Abby doesn’t date sports team girls’ around campus. Since the two of you had been together, what — 10 months now? It seems to have refilled their confidence in being able to win her over, regardless of how you felt about it.

It was never direct. To anyone else, the group of you seemed like great friends — and you were the number one flyer, needing you as the centre piece for every dance. You were happy to get chucked in the air so long as they caught you, so as you can imagine; that element mixed with your shyness forced you into not confronting them all for flirting with Abby.

"No but if I had arms like this? Whew, no one would be safe. I'd be a slut... I mean I already am..." The cheer captain, Liv spoke, the other dancers squealing in agreement. Abby looked uncomfortable to say the least, forcing a polite smile and trying to wedge herself out the small hyena circle they had formed around her. A blossom of pride filled your chest when you saw the sheer relief in her eyes, her gaze landing on you. You surged forward into the light, smiling awkwardly at your peers as you approached your girlfriend. She bounced the orange ball on the ground once before tucking it under her arm, other bulging arm bringing you in for a quick hug. "Hi, baby." She chirped, happy to see you.

You wanted to enjoy the moment, but couldn't ignore the disapproving gazes from behind Abby's back, their faux-friendly smiles turning to not so subtle glances and snickers toward each other. Just ignore them. Abby didn't pay them any mind so why should you?

"Hi Abs." You lowered your voice, like you were hoping they'd get the hint and give you two privacy. They stuck around like flies, much to your disappointment. "You left your bottle at my dorm. Didn't want you to get dehydrated agai—"

"Awwww, you guys are so cute!" The bleach blonde base leader appeared beside your girlfriend, obnoxiously butting in and making a point to rest her hand on Abby's bicep. "I want what you have." She pout, but you couldn't help but feel that comment was directed more toward you.

"Oh—thanks." You chuckle, not quite meeting her eye. Abby took the bottle from you, shooting you a subtle ‘wtf?’ look which made you wanna giggle.

"Oh you refilled it, nice. Was so fuckin' thirsty." She smoothed a hand over your head gratefully as she brought the bottle to her lips and chugged, stepping away to address her team, their practice ending for the day, giving the cheerleaders the space to rehearse for tomorrow. "Alright team, circle up I got a few pointers." You heard her command, smiling as you watched her team members gather around her obediently. You snapped your eyes away toward the girl still stood by you, eyes slightly narrowed as she observed you. She looked away when you noticed her intense gaze.

As much as you hated to see Abby leave without you, it always brought you some kind of relief — knowing that your squad could actually focus on what you were there for, cheerleading — instead of fawning over your girlfriend, giggling, bending over in her direction to 'tie their laces'. You knew dating Abby would bring a lot of attention, and you knew that there must have been plenty of girls that were after her — but this whole thing with your own squad was getting pretty old. Sometimes you wished you weren't so shy, so you could give them a real stern talking to. You didn't wanna put it all on Abby, it wasn't fair, she didn't ask for this and plus it was your problem. You didn't wanna be that jealous and possessive girlfriend, did you?

The next day, Friday rolled around fast.

It took a lot to shake Abby’s confidence. She knew she was good at what she did, otherwise she wouldn’t be on such a prestigious scholarship, or have acquired the team captain title so fast — but she was nervous. The impending game was a big one, there was no room for fuck up’s. There had been talk of scouters for top women’s basketball leagues joining the audience, and Abby knew that if things went well it could really put her on the map, no — it was guaranteed.

Your eyes were fluttering closed, heavy after the long day you’d had perfecting your routine with the team. You were in your shabby little dorm, practically a hole in comparison to Abby’s sleek apartment. More times than not you’d stay with your girlfriend, calm eachothers nerves before a big game — but you had mutually decided that you’d both needed to ensure a perfect night’s sleep. Your phone laid beside your head on your pillow, the glow of Abby’s contact picture lighting up the small space around it. She was breathing slow and calm on the other line, clearly tired herself.

“And then you can come and stay at mine tomorrow after the game, and stuff.” She hummed, the sound of her shifting positions, her bedsheets rustling taking over the audio for just a moment.

“Mhm. ‘Can celebrate your win.” You smile, eyes now closed as you picture it all, nervous butterflies batting their wings against your stomach.

“Or mourn my loss.” She chides. “You can still come over either way.” Abby chuckles but it’s dry and humourless. She always got this way before a game, just a little pessimistic — doubting herself subtly through sly jokes and quiet comments. To anyone else, she’d still appear just as confident and carefree — but you knew Abby.

“Abs, don’t say that. Y’gonna win. Simple as.” You exhale, feeling your body sink further and further into the pillow. She was silent for a moment, considering it — probably doubting everything that had just come out your mouth, this time in her head.

“Hm.” You listened to her breathing, and it made you sleepier. “You’re tired baby. Let’s go to bed, yeah?” You wanted to protest, be there for her and soothe her nerves for a little longer until she felt ready to sleep but her voice was lulling you into a dozed state.

“You sure? I can… stay…” You could barely finish your sentence, making her chuckle tiredly.

“Yes, pretty girl. Gotta get your rest for tomorrow. Need you cheering me on up there, helps me play better.” She was smiling, you could hear it. Your heart swelled and you made a happy humming sound to after.

“Night Abby, seeyoutomorrowloveyou.” You sigh out in one breath.

“Night baby. Get some rest. I love you.”

The opening intro to Fergie’s — Fergalicious blared through the auditorium, your squad occupying half the court as you danced for the screaming crowd. Hips, hips, split jump, cartwheel — behind your bright smile you were counting steps, keeping your arms tight and straight, flickering your eyes towards the scoreboard. You looked properly as you stood on top of the pyramid, ankle by your head — burst of adrenaline and relief when your eyes landed on the numbers in glowing red, signifying that Abby’s team was still in the lead. You gracefully flipped, and were caught back on the ground, heart thundering in your chest as you continued on with the dance.

As rehearsed, the college mascot had run on, joining in on the dance. A ridiculous looking wolf with a brightly coloured t-shirt and cap on its furry head. He danced beside you, comedically shaking it’s hips in time with you. You glanced over at Abby, happy to see her looking eased, a slight smile on her face as she jogged away from the net, watching you dance. A few strands of her hair stuck to her face from sweating and it reminded you of the day she asked you out.

63-63 with three minutes to spare.

Your squad tried not to show that they were itching from the sidelines, eyes glued to the players as you were lined up by the benches, waving pom poms now and shouting your usual chants, trying not to get drowned out by the passionate yelling of the audience.

Be aggressive! B-E aggressive! I said be aggressive B-E aggressive! B-E A G G - R E S S I V E! Whooping the house down show ‘em who’s the leader — bring ya’ baby down down, go cheerleader!

You tried to keep your grin as you chant, moving your hips in time with your claps and arm movements as you watched Abby’s team mate miss the net, ball rebounding off the backboard. You caught a glimpse of the frustrated expression on Abby’s face, jogging around players and yelling directions over the crowd that seemed deafening at this point. You watched her eyes rake through the audience, looking for a talent scout shaking her head and drawing a big red cross on her clipboard or something. Her eyes then found you, a inkling of panic that was calmed by the tide that was your face staring right back at her, smile still plastered as you repeat your chants with your group. The sight of you surged something through her, she had to do it for you.

63-63 with two minutes to spare.

“Don’t worry guys, Abby’s got this.” Liv twinkled proudly, like the blonde captain even knew her name and you felt sick. Sick with nerves, sick with possessiveness, sick with irritation. You stomped your feet that little bit louder whilst you cheered, wanting to dash your pompoms at her head. You felt sweat trickling down your spine, head starting to pound from all the tension and noise. Was the crowd getting even louder? Where did you put your water bottle?

63-63 with one minute to spare, and there was no time to drink.

Even the chants stopped, the squad trailing off just to watch in awe. The sound barrier practically broke when the ball came to a thudding halt, caught mid pass by none other than Abby Anderson, basketball hero. This other team were good, frighteningly so — but they were no match for her. She dribbled with precision in and out of players until she met a wall of her opposition, closing in on her fast to snatch the ball. She turned left, turned right, looking for someone on her team she could rely on to get the ball in the net. The coach yelled from the side, the cheerleaders gripped eachother, the audience stood on their feet. Abby’s knees bent, arms extending. Everything went slow motion, like it always did as you watched with wide eyes. The ball didn’t circle round the hoop, it didn’t slide down from the backboard, it slammed straight through the net so hard you thought when it landed it might leave a dent in the ground.

63-64— and the crowd fucking exploded.

You were immediately jostled to the side by your squad jumping up and down, grabbing eachother with screams. You stumbled, jaw agape trying to catch sight of her. Where are you Abby? Let me see you.

She was suddenly there, expression mirroring yours. The world still moved slow, spotting eachother now. She took off toward you, dodging the grasp of a celebratory cheerleader, skidding past a team member that tried to pull her in, straight toward you. You met her half way, feet in control now and leapt, Abby getting the same idea and thrusting her arms around your waist, swinging you round in a circle. Then, you could both smile, and it didn’t stop growing, not even when you smashed your lips together. There was no sound anymore, no screaming crowd or cheering squad members — just your own delighted giggle against her, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, the back of her hot, sweaty neck in your palm, your teeth clashing together at the force of the kiss.

You pulled away to breathe and the sound returned like you’d just come back up from underwater, the yells, the cheers, the chanting of her name. “I did it I fucking— do you know what this— baby, i did it.” She was panting, forehead pressed to yours and hell, you couldn’t care less that it seemed the world was watching such an intimate moment.

“Your life’s gonna change Abby, i’m so proud of you.” You breathed, and before she could reply — expression of awe, and utter love struck, she was setting you down and her team was tearing her away, lifting her above their head, passing her another big golden trophy to add to her shelf. She held it in the air, and then came the flashing of cameras, the barrage of students running to celebrate with her. A cheerleader from the other team roughly brushed your shoulder as she passed you with a glare and you didn’t even stop to acknowledge her, just watching on with pride — hands clasped beneath your chin. Your Abby had won, and nothing else in that moment mattered.

8:04PM

“Is it braggy if I wear the jersey on top?” She was smirking a little, stood in front of you in all her glory in her apartment. You spun around at the vanity, eyes taking her in as you pulled your little pink dress further down your thighs.

Your girlfriend was showered, and dressed — donning her bright blue jersey over her grey hoodie and jeans. You grinned, standing up. She looked good, but she always looked good. You had to stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around her neck. “Don’t you think you deserve to brag, a little?” You flutter your eyelashes, tilting your head with a grin.

After every game that was won, a party was thrown at the house of one of the sports captains. It was tradition, and almost always it was in Abby’s honour, because she was almost always the star of every game. The one to think of a genius formation that would throw off the other team, the one to make changes last minute that would be the saving grace, the one to make the winning shot. Today was like no other, and you knew everyone was willing to go extra hard this time — after that win, Abby was like a fucking celebrity.

You felt like you were hit with a shockwave of noise as soon as you walked in. The bass from the speaker was all but vibrating the floorboards, the sticky…wet (?) floorboards. You blinked, accustoming yourself to the low lights, clinging onto Abby’s thick bicep as a swarm of people coming to greet her approached. Sometimes parties felt like survival, Abby being that buoy in a storm that you’d cling to until the tide had cleared. The music was loud as usual, familiar, what was the song playing? You recognised the familiar tune to Blame It by Jamie Foxx and T-Pain and nodded your head with a false confidence. Drink, I need a drink — you thought, detaching yourself from Abby to beeline to the makeshift bar once you’d spotted it. Not the punch, you weren’t stupid — you had no clue what people had put in there. Vodka… vodka where are you? You grabbed the clear bottle with the red lid and poured yourself a generous amount into your cup before filling the rest up with… what were your options— cranberry juice. Nice. This will get you by. You needed social skills tonight, Abby had won a huge game and you didn’t wanna drag her down with your shyness. You sipped, no — downed some of your drink with a wince, some liquid spilling down your chin. Alter ego activate, shyness be gone.

You found Abby again, and when she spotted you awkwardly trying to wedge yourself through a gap to get to her she slotted her arm through, parting the sea of people like Moses himself to pull you right up beside her, torso to her ribs. You could stay like this, right up on her— you wanted to stay like this, but you’ll be damned if your girlfriend wasn’t social.

It’s an hour later, you’re drunk, laughing at something dumb Manny had come up with, social for once — and you hear them before you see them. The gaggle. The malicious giggles, pitched just a little higher than their real laugh in an attempt to turn heads. It works, you turn, there stand your cheerleader friends. ‘Friends’.

You can tell they went hard with the pregaming because they’re clinging onto eachother, forcing their way through the party crowd like a cluster of germs. That’s mean, you think to yourself, shaking off that feeling — the ugly feeling rising in your stomach like scalding bile. Insecurity, the feeling immovable even when you’re drunk and joyous, lodged into you seemingly forever, an arrow with spikes. You push it down, push it down, push it down as they squeal and come towards you. It flares up with immense force when you catch their outfits. They’re all wearing ‘Anderson’ jerseys. Did they fucking buy personalised jerseys?

It’s like you step out of yourself for a moment because you reach out and take a hold of the jersey across the cheer captains chest, turning her around and pulling the material taut as you see ‘Anderson’ in crisp white font across her back, mocking you. Your mouth is agape, unfocused and she steadies herself, turning back around and grabbing you.

“You like ‘em?” She whoops and all the girls join her, fondling their jerseys proudly and looking around for more eyes.

“Personalised jerseys?” Is all you manage to let out, just a simple observation. Liv falters for a second, something mischievous twinkling in her eye, lip curling up ever so slightly.

“Baaabe, the manufacturer f’ed up our order, and we fell one short. But we figured you’d have your own one right?” She eyes you obviously. Her malice is hardly hidden anymore. “Abby didn’t give you her jersey?” She tilts her head, as if it were an innocent question. You bitc—

“Abby!” The copper haired girl behind her squeals and you don’t have to turn around to know your girlfriend has unknowingly made her presence clear and accessible. The troupe practically rush you, shoving past to circle Abby once more. The uncomfortable look the blonde had yesterday in the court was gone, the one drink she’d been harbouring all night loosening her up a little — which made that insecure, jealous feeling nestle itself back beneath your ribcage.

“Heeeey— ohhh, awesome!” She smiles in a friendly way when she notices their jerseys. The same friendly expression she’d give to anyone, not flirty or lusty in the slightest — but they’re grabbing at her and batting their lashes up at her like they want to jump on her there and then and you feel yourself trying to crush the red solo cup in your palm. You’re broken out of your enraged trance because your sweet, thoughtful girlfriend is pulling you through the crowd they made, grinning without a care in the world. “You see this babe? Ah, should have given you my one to wear huh?” She laughs, and they laugh, but for different reasons.

The girls leave her alone for a while, but God they’re always fucking watching. Finding ways to subtly interact with your girlfriend. Accidentally bumping into her, which she barely notices until they start profusely apologising. Dance moves becoming inherently more sexy when she turns in their direction — not even looking at them but oh do they try. You finish your drink, because you need to finish your drink— and succumb to the urge to be that girlfriend. Who gives a fuck? Maybe you are that girlfriend.

It didn’t feel like you when you impatiently tugged her away from Nora, another basketball player, mid conversation, hands clasped in Abby’s silky jersey, pulling yourself to her chest, your own tits squishing against her.

“Aaabs.” You whine, and it’s giddy, lustful because she just looks so good. She smirks down at you, letting you tug at her, letting you move her. She looks so into you in that moment and it just… somethings not enough. You’re glancing for your cheer team, and that hideous feeling of shame briefly twinges inside you. Are they watching this? Seeing me touch you? Do they know you’re mine?

“Baby.” She’s returning your giddy smile, and you have to pull away from a moment so that you could back up a little… a little more into the clearing… give them a perfect view.

“Y’look so good.” Is all you can say because it’s true, and you’re pretty sure your eyes completely glazed over— pupils shooting out wide when she grabs a handful of your ass, a little rough but in a loving way, just like the Abby you’re used to — using her grip to pull you back into her hard, a small ‘hmph!’ whimper forced out of you when you all but slam into her strong chest. You love it when she got like this. Grabby. Forgetting her own strength and manhandling you. You’d usually be giggling and shoving her away in public, but you craved the eyes now. You wanted viewers, jealous gazes, realisations — Abby is locked in.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She’s chuckling at your expression. Forever her needy girl.

You sucked in your lower lip, eyes melting into that doe eyed expression that made her want to fuck it off your face, and she squeezes your ass a little harder. Your knees practically buckle, face burning hot because you feel your pussy spread open under your dress — as if she’s opening the floodgates by hand, wetness pouring out into your underwear. You hoped and prayed they were watching. Screw your little Anderson jerseys, she’s gonna be knuckle deep inside me in five minutes if the two of you kept this up.

“Cant wait to— mm—” You turn your head. Liv is snickering, whispering, but her expression says it all. Jealousy. You feel victorious. Abby curls a finger around your chin and your distracted gaze is back on her.

“Cant wait to what?” She glances in the direction of what you were staring at and your heart skips a beat.

“Can’t wait for you to remind me what a winner feels like.” You breathe out quickly and she’s back, smirking hard like she can’t control it. If she was packing, she’d be tilting her hips forward by now, digging her strap into the mound of your cunt through your thin dress where you stood — and it makes her wish she did pull the harness up her thick thighs beneath her jeans before the two of you left for the party.

“Yeah?” Her voice is breathy, low. “Forgotten already?” She chuckles, and she’s kind of right to— she was always winning, it wasn’t easy to forget.

“Mhm. Oops.” You shrug and you both giggle this time, her hands sliding around your waist. Each time her hands find a new spot on her you can’t help yourself from glancing over at the eyes. At Liv. At the whispers. Get a good fucking look.

Abby leans in, hot breath on your cheek and you turn back to her nearly knocking noses. Her brows are frowned a little and her cheeks rosy, lips parted in a way that made you wanna shove your tongue between them. “Give me… a little while longer to bask in this.” She chuckles, humble like she always was. She steals a kiss from your parted lips. “Can’t leave a party thrown for me so soon… just a little longer and I’ll take you home and give you a reminder, pretty girl.” her blunt finger nails rake behind your ear, scraping whatever hair was there backwards, pecking you again. Your eyes fluttered at the feeling, hot and lethargic. You wanted to be obedient but something still negged at you, buzzed in your ear like a fly to ‘stay focused’.

You gripped her strong arms. An attempt at control.

“Don’t have to leave. Can just go upstairs. Right here right now.” You whined in an impatient way this time, fingers curling around her hoodie peeking from beneath her jersey. She blinked a few times and you knew she wasn’t a huge fan— Abby never liked quickies, especially not on a celebration. She wanted each time she fucked you to be memorable, like a performance — she was a love maker, and to her public quickies were usually just a little… euck.

Her soft smile remained, because the request only told her that you were desperate to have her. All the more reason to make you wait, she thought. Get you real worked up. Yeah, she could have fun with this.

“Not happening, babe. Wanna take my time on you, don’t you wanna have it out with me all night?” She tilted her head, persuading, blowing hot air over your mouth and God — yes, on one hand you wanted that badly but there you go again… eyes trailing off to the right… over to your cheer group. Show them. Drag me up the stairs Abby. Make me walk out the bathroom limping. Show them what they can’t have.

So you said “No!” and you were one quick movement from actually stomping your foot like a child. Abby looked taken aback, but she still chuckled. Not in a mean way, but was it ever? She leant back from you, trying to gauge just what was going on.

“No?”

“I need you here. You… stop denying me they’ll — they’ll see— it’s embarrassing—” The shovels in your hand and you’re digging that hole, deeper, deeper…

“Who will see? See what? Babe what’s with you?” The smile melts off and she’s frowning now. Ohhh, boy. You’ve fucked it up. You blink, like you’re trying to wake up from your petty possession. You look once more and they’re intrigued now, gossiping. Are they fighting? Will Abby be single by the end of the night? This enrages you more, but you don’t have time to react because Abby sees it now. See’s that envious look in your eye, but it’s not really envy — because Abby has never in her life given you a reason to be jealous. It’s uncharacteristic and Abby’s stomach twists a little. “Oh.” She steps back, no no no.

“Sorry.” You splutter out. “Sorry, sorry— I’m sorry Abby I don’t know what that was. I just freaked. I want you to bask in this, people are here to celebrate and you deserve that. Sorry. I don’t… know what I was thinking there.” You try and force out a chuckle at the end to lighten things but it doesn’t come out quite right. Abby watches you for a moment, a little tense and worried. Eventually she gives you a small smile, coming close to you again, a hand on your shoulder.

“S’okay. No more drinks yeah?” She’s gentle and you’re embarrassed, of everything really. This is meant to be the greatest night of Abby’s college career and you’re… doing this. Making it about you. Your shoulders slump a little before you shake yourself off physically.

“Yeah, no. Good call. Whew.” You smile and she smiles back. It’s all okay. You’re okay.

Except it’s not, and she knows that. Things are a little weird now, you’re distracted and trying too hard to please her. Eyes snapping towards her guiltily every time she catches your gaze wandering off, as if scared she’ll see you looking at those girls again fearfully. You stay right by her side, shyness creeping back in. You’re smiling in a polite, forced way, and she can tell you’re not really enjoying yourself anymore. Not after that weird moment. It gets a little later, and the party isn’t in as full of swing as it was before but still pretty lively. She can’t enjoy herself if you’re not, so why bother?

You watch her watch you, her shoulders dropping slightly when she sees how tense you look. Truthfully you were worried, you’d tried to show off — let your possessive urges control you — and now, insecurities at the surface you’d seem to make things worse. You didn’t know why you’d let this pick at you, get under your skin the way it has but the fact they’d all seen you have that weird moment? It was eating you alive. They were probably so smug, probably thought they stood a chance with Abby now. Your Abby.

“Babe let’s just go.” Your attention snaps back towards her, suddenly stood in front of you— her braid resting on her shoulder.

“What?”

“Yeah, no it’s— I can’t enjoy myself if you’re not. I’m not mad, baby I just don’t wanna force you to be here.” You feel so fucking bad.

“Abby, it’s not — I am enjoying myself. This is your party.” You express, coming close to her. Most of the alcohol had worn off by now, and you just felt sick from embarrassment— and this conversation was even more sobering. She shrugs, and looks around. It no longer seems to interest her.

“I know but… I’d rather you just be… not in this mood.” She speaks quietly but you hear her and your face falls. Did you really show yourself up that badly?

“Alright.” You match her pitch, and her back is to you again — saying goodbyes. You can’t look up, can’t look and see their disappointed faces. You wish you could close your ears, to not hear the choruses of ‘Already?’s and ‘Cmon Abby this is your party!’s. But you couldn’t keep your forlorn gaze glued to the ground for long, because you knew people would look at you, see your expression and know it’s your fault she’s leaving prematurely. You cursed yourself for caring too much about what people thought that night, and smiled politely in departure.

Abby took your hand, fingers locked into yours as she walked you toward the door, saying bye to people as she continued moving. You made the mistake of sparing your cheer team a departing look, and they were watching once more — glancing at each other curiously. Liv wiggled her eyebrows playfully as you passed her. “Ooo, someone’s in trouble.” She snickered, and your breath caught in your throat.

You didn’t start crying until the car was half way down the street. You’d tried to keep it silent at first. But the car was already silent, the radio not turned on and Abby not saying anything. You didn’t know what the silence meant, you just knew you didn’t like it. Maybe she was reconsidering things. You’d ruined her night, the night that was supposed to be all hers and you took it from her — all because of your petty, jealous, insecurities. That wasn’t the kind of girlfriend she deserved, you were supposed to put all your focus into supporting her. Exist for her. She’d never given you a reason to worry about other girls but for fucks sake — those girls. You let them walk all over you every single day and now they were all talking. All coming up with schemes to take Abby from you, thinking your relationship was on the rocks and maybe it would work. After how you acted tonight, maybe it would fucking work.

You covered your face when the tears started really coming down hard, a quiet sob shuddering out of you. Abby glanced at you, jaw tensing a little. Not because she was angry, just because she was so confused about how you’d gotten here. She’d never seen you like this before and just… what had she done to get you so fucked up like this? She spoke your name, calmly — full of authority and a little detached, not cooing it gently like she would when she’s seen you cry in the past. Her tone made another sob hiccup out, and she spoke it again. “Look at me.”

You did, and you had to wipe the snot from beneath your nose so that it didn’t stick to your hands when you pulled them away. Your makeup was ruined, eyes sore and red and she glanced over you, her main focus on the road.

“Just… breathe and calm down. We are gonna talk about this when we get home.” She shakes her head a little, eyes on the road. Your heart aches and soothes a little at her calling her student apartment ‘home’ like it belonged to the both of you. You don’t have time to indulge the fantasy. “I don’t… understand this… tantrum babe.” She mutters like she’s too mature for it all and she is, which makes you all the more embarrassed. She doesn’t speak for the rest of the journey home, tear drops on her expensive leather seats. Well — she doesn’t speak if you don’t include the occasional “Breathe.” and such when she’d hear your breathing start to pick up, upsetting yourself all over again.

She walked you up to her apartment and you hugged yourself as you stood behind her, watching her unlock her door. She held the door open for you, but didn’t look at you when you walked through — unsurely looking around like you’d never been there before. You wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. Did she want to talk now?

You stood in the hallway and her warm hands gently came down onto your shoulders.

“Go sit down on the couch.”

When Abby tells you what to do, you do it. And not because she’s scary, or intimidating or aggressive. She just carries this… air to her. One that makes you want to respect her, no matter how worked up or pissed off or upset you are. It would be the same way every single time, she’ll calmly make a demand and you fucking do it. Of course, minus the mini ‘tantrum’, as she so kindly put it, you had.

She didn’t follow you, infact — she walked the other way to her bedroom, hearing the door click shut when you made your way into her living room area. The leather couch that was usually home to so much love and affection now cold against your skin when you sit down on it, the sleek material frigid from not being touched for hours on end. You bring your knees together shivering a little, and a few minutes later Abby returns. She wields a makeup wipe, and presses it into your palm silently when she lowers herself into the arm chair opposite you. You want to cry out like a baby and reach for her, ask her why she’s sitting so far away but you have to be good. You have to fix everything.

Abby’s thighs spread as she leans forward, staring you down analytically with her elbows on her knees, long fingers wringing her wrists before she looks down at them, puffing out her cheeks with a long exhale. You wait for her to speak, wiping the gooey eye makeup up from your cheeks and eyes.

“Tell me… what this is all about.” Her voice holds a quiet kindness this time, despite the line that appears between her brows as her expression becomes a little exasperated.

You suck in a quick breath, eager to explain yourself and beg for forgiveness — “Nothing I was just being —”

“The truth.” She raised her hand to speak which silenced you instantly. You press your lips together, letting two fat residual tears race down your cheeks either side, the left tear winning victoriously when it surpassed your jaw and streamed lazily along your neck. Abby watched it move.

You thought this time. No more covering it up. No more being immature. Be truthful. What was this all about again?

“I think…” You gulped, willing yourself to be brave. You knew Abby might not see you as a ‘chill’ girlfriend anymore— exposing your insecurities and jealousy — but she wanted the truth and being a liar was objectively worse. “The girls on my cheer team are… I think they’re picking on me.” You admit quietly and her brows jump up, intrigued. Not quite what she was expecting. She stays quiet and you carry on. “I’m not… I don’t wanna be toxic and jealous. I let it get the better of me tonight. They’re always… flirting with you, talkin’ about you, showing off to you, trying to get your attention and at first I didn’t care because, I have you, you know? And you’ve never given me any reason to believe your eyes have wandered but fuck it’s so hard when they’re just… relentless. And beautiful and confident and I’m… I know what people think Abby. I know I’m shy and people wonder how…” You trail off, and you’re not sure you wanna admit any more. Not after that explosive rant.

“People wonder how what?” She pushes, and she’s scooched so far onto the edge of her seat that her long legs are bunched up and she’s barely perched on it.

“Wonder how… I got you. Why you stay with me.”

The confusion just melts off her face.

She blinks a couple of times, feeling like someone just placed her heart in a panini press hearing your sad and small tone of voice. So small, and she can tell you really believe what you’re saying and it just kills her. She wants to reach out then and there and hold you and kiss you and cry for you but you’re talking again.

“And I know you’re not a trophy and I don’t see you that way, please don’t think I ever—”

“No, no no no.” Abby cuts you off as a correction, eyes shut as she scrubs a hand down her face. She gets it now. The jealousy. Clearly, you hadn’t noticed the wandering eyes of her basketball team players, smirking over at you when your little cheer skirt that was too short for everyone’s good would flip up, shaking your hips in your adorable little routines. How if she didn’t keep you on her arm at every party, frat boys would start to circle you like crows, waiting to pounce until they realise, holy shit that’s Abby’s girl, and back off. If anyone got it, it was her. “You don’t need to explain anymore I’m… sorry. Come here, please.” Her pained expression relieves you and also devastates you because now she’s blaming herself.

You listen, again, because it’s Abby and you push off the couch to stand in front of her on the arm chair. She pulls you to sit sideways on her leg, thick arms wrapping around your waist protectively. She looks up at you, brows furrowed.

“You are beautiful. I don’t… want anyone else. Ever. I love you, baby. You know I love you? You know I don’t give a fuck about any of those other girls. They’re not you they’re not… c’mon.” That gentle cooing voice has broken through and more tears slide down your raw cheeks. She’s wiping them away this time, coarse thumb swiping the moisture until it absorbs into her skin, becoming apart of her.

You sniffle, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry. This is your night and you’re comforting me. I promise I’m happy for you.” You hiccup into her neck when she pulls you in, and you feel her shake her head because her braid tickles your arm.

“I don’t care.” She chuckles honestly and cups your face to pull you back, make you look at her. She’s so beautiful you want to cry some more. “I don’t. It could be my birthday and I’d still look after you. You’re my girl, yeah? You over everything.” She exaggerates, moving her head slightly to meet your eyes when you try to shamefully drift them away.

“Kay. Love you, Abby. M’so lucky.” She feels you sigh in relief and your body relaxes just a little bit. Her hands slide around your back and press into the muscle, massaging and rubbing — trying to get you to just melt and become one with her when you cuddle her.

“I’m lucky.” She speaks into your temple, pressing kisses there. She manages to gently manoeuvre you until her lips are pressing the same quick succession of kisses onto your swollen pouty lips. She hums in satisfaction and you feel something stir in your tummy. The hum was almost primal, one that said ‘this is mine.’ You wanted to hear the noise again. Without too much thought behind it, you turn to sit on her lap fully, facing her now. You pull yourself closer with your arms around her neck and your kisses begin to dot along her jawline. Come on Abby, make the pretty noise.

She sighs, tilting her head for your access and thinks. Thinks over everything that had just happened. Maybe she hadn’t done enough, her brain had been so focused on winning the game that perhaps she’d forgotten to reassure you when you needed it, and she knew how important reassurance was in a relationship. An urge spread through her body, starting in her stomach like an icy cold lake and travelling up to her chest like molten lava. The urge to just… give you everything. Everything you wanted and needed. Everything you couldn’t ask for and everything she should have given you. Abby had always harboured a ‘spoiling’ side, and in that moment it had kicked in hard.

She pulled the strap of your dress off your shoulder, letting your head tip back this time as she sucked and nipped at the soft skin there. She loved how opposite you were to her, when she was sweaty and rough around the edges after a game you were still impossibly soft everywhere, still smelled sweet and clean and like you, like she was a wild lion coming to lay her cheek in your gentle hand after slaughtering a deer.

You squirmed on her lap and Abby jumped between your lips and your skin, feeling that beautifully familiar warmth begin to spread through your underwear again. Starting with your clit starting to throb when she’d gently buck her thighs below you — all the way to your hole that started to ache and crave the feeling of her inside. Her tongue lapped up your own, sucking obscenely as her hands pushed your lower back, bringing you higher on her lap and— oh?

You were now sitting atop a bulge. One that wasn’t there at the party. You thought back to her disappearing into her room as you sat down on the couch when you’d arrived back at the apartment and smiled at the feeling against her lips. So calculated, Abby — and she smiled back because she knew. Knew she was gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you after your talk, she just didn’t expect you to fold so easily. For it to take such an emotional direction. She could just tease you for being a cry baby, but where’s the fun in that?

You start to grind like you just can’t help yourself, your shared saliva pooling beneath your pouty bottom lip as the kisses became more sloppy and intense. You swore you could never get over how good it felt to hump against her jeans in just your panties, the combination of materials and the writhing of your hips always leaving you gasping. Abby too, the way the strap was positioned would press snugly against her clit making her breath stutter against your lips. She refocused herself, fingers tugging your dress up to your waist. Enough had been about her tonight she’d decided, now she wanted to make it all about you.

You detached for a moment to pull your dress over your head, lips meeting once more as she tossed it aside. Next came the unclasping of your bra, and then she was sliding your thong down your legs. When she balled it up to chuck aside she felt the wetness in her palm.

You stood over her now, the one time you weren’t shy — stark naked. She’d made you so comfortable over the ten months you’d been together it wasn’t even something you’d take a second worrying about anymore, Abby knowing the map of your body like the back of her hand. She made you feel so safe with her gentle-ness. Abby, big scary Abigail Anderson, Abby ‘i’ll beat your fucking face in if you step up to me outside the basketball court, no seriously repeat what the fuck you just said’ Anderson. And you’ve reduced her to this gentle, loving giant. Someone who was rubbing her big hand up your tummy as her thighs caged you in where you stood. Reaching for your breast and just rolling her thumb over your nipple making your legs quiver a little. All her stoicism that everyone else knew her for had melted away, her eyes soft and loving as she gazed at you, touching you.

She reached up and began tugging her jersey off over her head, leaving her in the grey hoodie. Where you expected her to toss it aside with the heap that was your pink dress and underwear, she brought her attention to it, bunching it up and opening up the head hole of the shirt. “C’mere.” She muttered, standing up over you, your neck suddenly craning to meet her eye. “Put it on. Fuck those other girls cheap ass jerseys. My girl gets the real deal.” She’s speaking so quietly that you feel like she’s talking to herself, that you shouldn’t intrude her stream of thoughts — even if the words made you literally clench your hole so tight you could crush a fucking walnut in there.

She slipped it over your head and pulled your arms through the arm holes, stepping back with her hands on your shoulders so she could look at you. Look down at you. See the way you stared up at her tall frame, her jersey swamping you and resting beneath the swell of the plump under-cup of your ass cheeks. “Looking good babe.” She smiles, holding you back to carry on looking at you even when you try and lurch forward, hands loose-fisted and grabby as you try and climb all up on her again where she stood. She subdued you by taking your hand, walking away and practically dragging you along behind her. “C’mon, this way. Not fucking you on the couch.” Though it wouldn’t be the first time.

She had you on her lap again in no time, her feet planted heavily on the floor as you press into her cloaked strap, legs stretched over her thighs making you ache in that delicious way that said nothing more than ‘my girlfriend is fucking huge, the gym fears her’. Impatient, you’re tugging her hand that was cupping your throat, pushing it down, down between your thighs. She pulls away, a little breathless with her mouth all red when she slides her fingers through your cunt, eyes on your hard nipples creating little mountain peaks against her jersey as you breathe heavy in her face. “Soaked, baby. Have you been needing me like this all night?” She’s whispering before her lips are on yours again, stroking your little bundle of nerves head on, making your legs flatten out and tense in the air with a quiet yelp. “I know.” She hums, and that’s all it takes to soothe you. Yes, she knows. She always knows. It was Abby for gods sake, if anyone knew exactly what you needed… well.

After torturous stroking, Abby’s middle finger curls down right to where your hole is, pressing and massaging and teasing. She knows you want her inside, you want more than her fingers, fuck — if you could you’d just consume her whole but this will definitely do the trick. “I want you,” she starts, slurred by the open mouth kiss she’s pressing to your shoulder now. “To ask me nicely. Not like you did earlier. Show me my good girl.” She whispered, like it was one last attempt at being strict before she just gave in and spoiled you. It fooled you, anyways— your mouth falling open with a whine as her thumb pressed up against your clit.

“Please Abby— ‘ll be a good girl now okay? Wanna be your good girl.” You’re blabbering against her cheek and she doesn’t fight you on it, pushing inside you and basking in the way you give her a welcoming squeeze upon entry.

“How are you still so tight? After I’ve abused that pretty pussy so many times?” She sighs, tone suggesting that she’s actually pondering it at a moment like this. You don’t have the strength to respond, fucking against her fingers. You loved foreplay with Abby, don’t ever doubt that for a second — but tonight there was something different, it just felt like preparation. The two of you knew that tonight of all nights you needed to get fucked with her cock, and that would be the main event. She could barely wait, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t loosen you up around her callous digits first so she can slip right inside of you easily.

She slips another finger inside you and you black out a little bit, like you always do. Maybe it was all the emotions finally catching up with you, but you just go limp in her lap, letting her finger fuck you the way you need. “Prettiest girl ever. Don’t know what the fuck you were worried about. Gonna fuck it out your brain tonight, yeah?” She’s cooing again and she knows that’s your sweet spot, that tone of voice doing it for you every damn time. If anything was gonna make you cum quick, it’s gonna be the sympathetic drag of her voice as she ensures you that you don’t have to think anymore.

“Yeah Abby, please! Yeah!” You sound pornagraphic and your spine flushes hot at the idea of the surrounding students in her neighbouring apartments hearing any of this — though it wouldn’t be the first time (as told by the passive aggressive post-it note left on her door reading ‘Keep it down we don’t all need to hear your girl busting a nut.’ that one time. You didn’t live down the humiliation for a week, and Abby of course only took it as a challenge to make you moan louder despite your pleas of ‘Abby! You’re going to get kicked out of your building!’ whilst her head was in your crotch. Anyway—)

She was practically vibrating her hand at this point, fingers squelching in and out of you with sounds so mortifying that if you weren’t experiencing such euphoria perhaps you’d bury your face into her cuss her out for embarrassing you. You, were slurring a made up language made of her name, curse words and just down-right vulgarity as you felt your stomach lock up in that scaldingly familiarly way. Abby chuckled, smug at your babbling, responding with “Yeah?” and “Uh-huh?” until you were clenching hard around her fingers halting their movement slightly, which gave her the green light to move onto “Thats it baby, cum for me. Just getting started with you tonight. Give it to me, pretty girl.”

You went numb, pretty much everywhere but your cunt — something high pitched and feral deafening you through the impending white noise of your orgasm — wait, was that you? You could hardly breathe, and when some feeling returned to you, you felt stickiness all along the inner sides of your thighs and seeping into the rough denim of Abby’s lap below you. Jesus… did she make you—?

“Shit babe, fucking… baptised me there.” She pants, like she was the one that just received an earth shattering orgasm and you collapse against the strong muscle of her shoulder, trying to self soothe— trying to ground yourself. You twitched, her fingers stilling within you at the tell-tale sign of overstimulation. She pulled them out, rubbing her thumb on your bare hip as she pressed her chin to her chest looking down between your bodies, admiring the gooey mess you’d left on her. “Already got a little fountain going on down there baby, we haven’t even been going at it for that long.” She teases with a grin in a way you know is meant to be praise because as soon as you lift your head she’s attacking your hot cheeks with kisses.

“S’embarrassing.” You whimper, despite your small giddy smile and she tsks a little, hand creeping up to your throat, holding your sturdily there.

“If you’re still finding things embarrassing, it’s because I haven’t fucked all those bad thoughts from today out that pretty little head yet. You still want it?” She’s speaking against your lips now, effortlessly pushing her hips up beneath you and rolling her strap into your sensitive cunt again. Is that even a question?

“Still— still want it—”

You weren’t finished speaking, and Abby is moving at the speed of light. She cups your beneath your ass with one hand, still using your delicate neck as her main grabbing point— she twists the two of you, so suddenly you’re on your back and she’s hovering over you, all in one quick succession that makes your head spin. Your back bounces against the bed, bounces you into her and her thumb soothes over your throat. “Hands still working baby?” She kisses the corner of your mouth. You flex your fingers out of her vision, testing.

“Yes.”

“Undo my belt then, pretty.” It’s clear she still needs both of her hands to caress you, so you get to work, shakily reaching for the leather tucked within the denim waistband of her jeans. It’s smooth and feels expensive beneath your fingers, and the sound of the buckle clinking makes you squeeze out more of the residual arousal you’d spewed out only minutes prior. It’s like she can tell it does something for you, because her tough pads of her fingers come and rest on your sensitive clit again, just rubbing slow lethargic circles making it harder to pull the belt out of the loops. “Thats my girl.” She helps you, taking the belt and placing it aside.

She does the rest, because you just weren’t moving efficiently enough for her liking, one hand sliding up your soft arm until she’s pinning your wrist gently to the bed, fingers intertwining with yours, and the other hand deftly unpopping the button of her jeans and sliding the zipper down. She pulls the familiar plastic cock out, adjusting her hips and resting the shaft along your tummy, tip grazing just below your belly button. “Think you’re ready for me now?” She leans forward, nudging your chin with her own to get your lips where she needed to capture them, sucking on your bottom lip barely allowing you to sigh out a pleasured “Uh-huh.” against her.

She sits up, pulling her hoodie off leaving her in just a fitted black wifebeater and the pace of everything changes all of a sudden. It’s less desperate and more purposeful, coming into her dominance and remaining control like she always did. She leant over you, reaching for the lube in the bedside drawer and leant back, drizzling it over the shaft. You reached forward without thinking and massaged it around for her, looking up at her with those big needy puppy dog eyes. She groaned, like you were actually jerking her off — greedily yanking her jersey up to sit above your plush tits for her viewing pleasure.

“Fuck… so pretty… Alright baby, deep breath in for me.”

She looked so good like this, hair stuck to her face and neck, jeans pulled just below her peachy ass being cupped by the ropey black harness. The royal blue plastic glistening as she slides it up and down your willing cunt. Her biceps bulging from holding herself up above you, making you just want to sink your teeth into her. Abby was a work of fucking art.

You follow her instructions, Abby kissing away your strained whimpers at the stretch. It only made sense that Abby Anderson, home to all BDE — was weighed down by a fucking monster of a strap, 7 and a half inches, thick and dark blue with added detail of veins and a fat tip. When you first slept together, after one very successful date, sitting on her lap in that little innocent floral dress that rode up your doughy thighs just right — she thought about calling the whole thing off until she could get her hands on a strap a little smaller and less threatening. Until, of course — your wide and blameless eyes were staring up at her, hand barely wrapping around it as you thickly muttered out a ‘I can take it Abby. Let me take you’, and the rest is obviously history.

She sighed out once she was fully seated in you, like it was a relief, like one day you might not be able to take her fully and she’d have to practise even more self restraint by thrusting in halfsies. You tensed up, suddenly aware of the situation again. A spike of sickly anxiety washed through your stomach. Did you deserve this? After the havoc you caused today? “Pretty girl. Let me in that head.” She whispers and it hypnotises you as she thrusts slowly, just grinding her hips against yours.

“Don’t — mmphm— don’t deserve this.” Your voice is high and a little panicked, and Abby’s eyes open to pin you down with her grounding gaze. She knocks your chin up gently toward her as if to say ‘look at me.’ and she rests her hand over your chest, feeling the hammering of your heart as you very suddenly become overwhelmed.

“Hey.” She drags calmly, raising her eyebrows. You try and relax, copying her breathing because you knew she was about to tell you to do that anyway. “Sweet girl.” She thumbs your cheek. “You deserve every last inch of this fucking cock.” She’s whispering again and you cry, hard. She picks up on what you need, and she presses up deeper into you, making your legs flail before wrapping tightly around her ass, your tits bouncing obscenely to the rhythm of her thrusts. “My perfect girl. Don’t have to worry about anything ever again. Yeah? Gonna fucking… go pro ball, make you my pretty little courtside wife. How’s that sound?” She starts to thrust a bit harder and you’re stunned out of your freak out session, distracted by her words and overcome by pleasure as you just listen. Interested to see where this fantasy will go.

“Yes.” Is all you manage and it’s barely audible but she hears it, and carries on.

“Gonna make it to WNBA for you baby. Not for me. So I can spoil you for the rest of my fucking life.” She grits her teeth, her big rough hands sliding around your back so she can cradle you, use your body to fuck you on and off her cock. You whine, barely aware of the fresh tears rolling down your cheeks. “You wanna give me that baby? Let me buy you every pair of shoes and stupidly priced handbags so you can look pretty for me at every game? Yeah?” Her voice is higher pitched and you think she might cum at some point, but she’s too determined to fuck your lights out completely for any of that.

“W—want that Abs, want you— I want —”

She’s interrupting, not finished with stuffing this fantasy into your brain until there’s nothing there but the manifestation of those thoughts. “You won’t even remember those girls on your cheer squad. They’ll be nobodies. You think I’d ever fucking look at anyone else but you, hm? My pretty little wife?”

Just when you think things can’t get more intense, she’s decided that she’s not physically deep enough — and pushes your thighs up to your chest, knees squishing against your tits as she stretched you, grunting out a “Fuck”, a sign of her losing control for a second. “N’then after every game. Can take you.. fuck, can take you shopping, fly you out wherever you want. Slut you out, just like this. You want that life baby don’t you? You wanna give me that life?” Your brain is muddled, and you can’t tell if you’re begging her or she’s begging you. Your mouth is open, but the air is punched from you and you’re just squeaking like a dog toy and she pounds your little cunt.

She reaches for what seems to be your on button, shoving her thumb between your lifted legs and grinding your abused clit again. “Wanna— wanna be your wife Abby. Want — I wanna—” You’re rambling, and then you’re cumming, harder than you’ve cum in your life. Your throat is raw, nails clawing for something, some kind of life support as she fucks you through your orgasm, breathless and determined. You vaguely feel yourself marking up her skin with your nails, but you’re never fully aware of yourself doing it — always just as shocked and guilty when you see the red streaks across her freckled skin the next morning whilst she’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom with a towel around her waist.

“Good girl. My good fucking girl you take it all. Take what I’m giving you.”

And you do, because when she goes to slow down you’re whining and bucking against her strap— fuck drunk and obsessive, finally getting to that dumb place she needs you to be able to rid of all those negative ideas you had about yourself earlier. She lets you breathe as she thinks about it, thinks about the way you misbehaved and the way you wouldn’t use your words. Maybe there was still more in you, more room for some reinforcement.

That’s why approximately five minutes later you had your cheek to the pillow having been pressed there by the basketball captain herself, Abby’s foot up on the bed and your ass in the hair as she drilled into your weeping pussy.

She pushes your back down, against the protests and your cries and your “Can’t Abs, so deep!” muttering for you to “Just fucking take it, sweet girl. I’m not asking.”

You give in and let her, already feeling yourself close to another animalistic style orgasm which only leaves your heart aching for your peeved neighbours that were probably just trying to sleep.

“You gonna listen next time, huh?” You don’t know how she has the endurance to keep slamming into you like this, wife beater pulled up above her sweat-gleaming abs now to not obstruct her vision of her creamy strap pounding in and out your soft flushed pussy. “You tell me when you fucking need me, yeah? You tell me when you’re feeling a type of way and you need me to reassure you from now on.” She waits a beat, and you wail. “Say yes.” She adds in command.

“Yeees!” You cry.

“Say yes Abby.”

“Yes Abby!”

You’re pretty much on autopilot at this point, brain so empty that all it knows is to do exactly what Abby says at all times, chasing that lingering tight coil in your stomach that whispered ‘cum one more time for her’ in your ear in a saccharine sweet voice that just about convinced you. Adding onto the persuasion, Abby’s weight dropped a little more onto you, hot torso against your back and hips grinding feverishly into you still. “Give me one more then. One more and that’s it baby. Keep being good for me.”

So you do, again, and this one is different from the rest — it’s your last drop, your last spot of energy. You’re weeping and grabbing and you feel it ooze out of you around the punishing blue plastic, and when you’ve done it Abby gets softer, kissing your spine and pulling out, so much praise your brain can’t even register it through your submissive fog.

“Did so good baby. So perfect, angel. Love you so much, my girl.”

She was cleaning you up before you could blink with a cold wet wipe from her bed side draw, practically scooping out endless amounts of your creamy arousal as you whimper at the sensitivity.

“Cold” You whisper, and you’re not sure if it was by choice seeing as you didn’t think you had a voice at that point.

“I know.” She chuckled, voice low and hands gentle— stroking the backs of your thighs as you stay on your front, legs trembling now as the adrenaline dwindles in your body. “Did so good for me. Let’s roll you over.”

She’s kicked off her jeans and her harness, now just in her boxers and wife beater— eyes flickering to your hands tugging at the jersey.

“Want it off. Wanna feel you.” You mumble sleepily once you’re on your back, desperately craving your skin on hers. She cradles your neck as she obliges, slipping the material up and over your head and pulling you into her.

You knew she carried on doting on you after you’d fallen asleep, and truthfully you don’t remember when you fell asleep — somewhere between her wiping you down and peppering kisses across your whole body — but like usual, her strap had knocked you the fuck out, and before you knew it you were waking up, disorientated by the morning sun flooding in through the blinds. Your senses start to arrive back to your body and you note them off like a checklist in your foggy brain. Touch, Abby’s arms locked around your waist. Sight, the blinding laser beam of sun attacking your eyeballs. Smell, Abby. Hearing, Abby. And the birds tweeting.

You roll, twisting in her arms so that your head was tucking beneath her chin against her chest, breathing her in and relishing in the way her skin stayed warm through the night like an electric blanket, unlike your own — cold to the touch from kicking off your side of the duvet.

She’s still fast asleep, always the heavy sleeper and after the game and the party you decide that big girl needs her rest, even if you’re now wide awake and staring at her. She looked like a painting, pouty lips swollen from a night of kissing, honeyed hair still in its braid but totally messed up now, pale blonde baby hairs sticking up and around her face. Her dark lashes kissed beneath her eyes and her chest moved up and down like the slow rocking of a small boat on a calm tide. You smiled when the sun slid further into the sky and created a beam across her eyes, making her scrunch them in her sleep and bury her face into the pillow.

You remember peeing last night now, before you’d fallen asleep — Abby carrying your warm, dazed body to the bathroom and sitting you on the toilet, letting you lean your cheek against her tummy to hold you up as you pee’d, gently shushing your complaints about removing you from the bed.

“S’not good for you to hold your pee after sex, babe.”

“M’sleepy. ‘Don’t care if I get a UFO.”

“UTI. And I care.”

You slowly slide out the bed careful not to wake your girlfriend, on a hunt for your phone. You pull Abby’s jersey back over your head for coverage and tiptoe out the room. Where did you put your bag again? You find it tossed on the couch haphazardly where you left it and fished through it, leaning on the back of her leather couch as you scrolled through. Your thumb tapped the Instagram logo and loaded it up, automatically gravitating towards Abby’s story, displayed at the top of the screen. You pressed it, expecting to see some kind of victory shot of her holding the trophy or a picture with her team, but instead were met with a photo of you that she’d taken when you’d fallen asleep last night— your head turned the other way on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Bare back glowing in the dim light of the room, bed covers resting at your waist. The caption reads: ‘Future WNBA wife.’ followed by your @.

Any other day you might gasp, due to the nature of the picture being that — well — it’s clear even to the untrained eye that you’d just been fucked within an inch of your life. But you grin, glowing from the inside out. She was showing you off, indirectly reassuring you even more because she knows you need it. You press a heart on the story, stepping in the direction of the bedroom to attack her sleepy face with kisses— but your eyes catch on the kitchen instead.

The perks of dating someone with such a buff body, was that they always would be stocked up on plenty of food. Not like your dorm, thinking back to the microwave meals and tins of soup stocked up in your kitchen made you grimace. You swung open her refrigerator door, gathering ingredients to whip her up a winners breakfast.

Having made everything from scratch, by the time the breakfast was nearly ready you’d heard Abby stir and climb out of bed, disturbed by the accidental clattering of pots and pans. The water ran for a while, and as you turned off the stove — removing her frying pan of eggs, you’d heard her heavy feet plodding into the room.

You nearly burnt yourself at the sight of her, sweatpants pulled up low on her waist, no shirt, red scratches from your overexcited claws the night before wrapping around her bicep and over her left shoulder, assumably trailing down onto her back, and her hair down — a little damp, falling messily across her small chest. You offered her a small smile as she took in the scene, looking very serious about it too you might add. Turning around back to the chopping board to prepare some turkey bacon for her you felt her crowd you. A shadow casted over you. You were suddenly smaller.

“Makin’ me breakfast? Was I that good?” She rasped, huge hands sliding around your waist — instantly dwarfing you some more.

“Mhm. Breakfast for a winner.” You chirped quietly, too early to be excitable.

“Really leaning into this whole housewife thing aren’t you baby?” She chuckles and your face heats up. Is it that obvious? She presses kisses to the side of your neck, hands grabbing you all over. Involuntarily, you arch your back— pressing your ass into her crotch and she winces.

You freeze up, knife clattering out of your hand onto the wooden chopping board and brows furrowing at the way her fingers tighten around your waist, lips by your temple now. You’re practically pinned to the counter, hands flexed wide on the smooth surface when you grind back against her again experimentally.

She’d never admit it, but last night had left her wanting, which she expected was selfishness considering she vowed to make it all about you. She pulled you back against her, your plush ass beneath just her jersey thumping against her clit again — nothing but that and the material of her sweatpants brushing up against her swollen button. You whimpered a little, not making it better for anyone and found your rhythm, rubbing and humping back on her, feeling her exposed tits against your back. “Like this?” You whine, and tug up the jersey so your bare ass is on display now, just a vessel for Abby to get off on.

“Just like that, pretty.”

The sight makes her push into you a little harder, bending you over the counter when there’s nowhere else to go. She continues humping you, leaning over you and kissing you, curling her toes against the tiles until she explodes into quiet, low gasps and groans— leaking into the grey material as you help her along with encouraging noises.

“Fuck babe, fuckprettygirl— my god.” She pants, leaning over you and pressing a kiss onto your back before tugging your jersey back down with a chuckle after a minute of panting and coming down. “Gonna put me back to sleep.” She gives your ass a loving slap, grabbing the flesh of it in her meaty hand before walking around you to lean against the counter top tiredly. You giggle, shaky hands getting back to food prep as she watches you with fond eyes. “How you feeling? All good?” She analyses, mind still on your series of mini freak out’s the night before.

Your eyes are on the turkey as you continue slicing shyly. “Sore. But all good.”

“Sorry baby.” Her thumb rubs your arm sympathetically.

“No I— I like it. Like feeling you the next day.” You don’t look at her, you can’t, but you know she’s grinning.

“Good.”

She disappears for a minute and reappears with her phone, scrolling, checking notifications. You begin to plate up her breakfast, feeling her hands wrap around your waist again, her phone held by your chest as her chin rests on your shoulder, leaning over you. “Your little friends saw my story of you. Think by now they get the message.” She smirks and you giggle, turning your head to kiss her on the cheek.

“I think so too.”

“If not, I’ll just have to make it clearer, yeah? ‘ll fuck you infront of ‘em if that’s what it takes.”

Your eyes widen as she backs off, going to help you plate up the big breakfast you’d made. You didn’t think that would be necessary anymore, feeling much more secure now but your achey, abused core twitched at the idea anyway— not totally against it.

You’ll pocket that for later.

[demxters]

—𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐢

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x f!aviator!reader

series summary: “there’s no place like home for the holidays,” is a saying you loathe with a passion.  you didn’t hate the holidays. you just wished you had a place to call home when the winter days are lonely and the nights are long and cold. little did you know that home was a lot closer than you think, and came in the package of a charming green eyed pilot with a surprising amount of love for the holiday season.

wc: 9.1k (oops) 

warning(s): fem!reader, idiots in love, swearing, some self deprecating thoughts (from both jake and reader), mentions of anxiety, implications of bad family relationships, self esteem issues, angst/fluff/then more angst, a plethora of cliches from my favorite xmas romcom (iykyk)

part of the ‘through the seasons’ universe 

prev.

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

you wanting me, tonight feels impossible…but it's comin' down no sound, it's all around. like snow on the beach… –snow on the beach, taylor swift (ft. lana del rey) 

His brother was only older by one year, and yet the distance between the two has never been bigger. If you could believe it, growing up the two boys were inseparable. Two peas in a pod, partners in crime. Jake looked up to his older brother. He wanted to go where Luke went and do what Luke did. The Seresin brothers were each other’s best friend. Until high school. 

The changes hit him like a freight car. Luke being a year older set a precedent for what was expected of Jake going into his freshmen year. It was barely a month into the new school year that Jake noticed it. The second his teachers heard his last name it was always “Luke” this or “Luke” that. He tried so hard not to let it bother him, but he was so tired of being compared to his brother. 

Luke, who was captain of the lacrosse team. Luke, who was in student government. Luke, who was a straight A student. Funny, smart, charming, charismatic Luke. No one cared to give him a second glance. No one cared to notice that Jake Seresin could be funny. Jake Seresin was smart. Jake Seresin had good looks like his brother.

And while Jake was getting buried under his brother’s shadow, Luke was soaking up the spotlight. He loved the praise he received from teachers, from students, from girls. But most importantly, from his parents. He knew his parents meant well, but he couldn’t help but feel so small in comparison to his brother. 

You want to join the chess club? Why don’t you do lacrosse like Luke instead? 

You should ask Luke what he would do. 

Maybe you should try to be more like Luke. 

Luke let all that praise go to his head and he eventually thought he was better than his little brother. Too good for his little brother. Jake hated that he found himself believing it too. 

So he did the only thing that made sense to him at the time. He acted out. He distanced himself from his family. Jake stayed out late past curfew. He kissed random girls at parties. He landed himself in detention every week or so. If everyone wanted him to be more like Luke, there was no way he would give them what they wanted. Jake Seresin wanted to be his own and he would make a name for himself. 

As high school came to an end, so did Luke and Jake’s brotherhood. It was as if the two were barely family. Luke lived off of reminding Jake who the better Seresin was and his parents didn’t know better than to believe he was only trying to help Jake stay on track. He wished he could make them see that was far from the truth. 

His saving grace throughout those four years came in the form of Javy Machado. The two had met in sophomore chemistry class when they almost set the lab on fire during a bunsen burner experiment. They’ve been attached to the hip ever since. Javy never saw Jake as Luke Seresin’s younger brother. To him, he was “just Jake.” Javy became the brother Jake had lost. Even now, years later that still held true. 

He always felt like he had to compete with his brother for attention. Jake hated that he was beginning to feel it again right now. 

Jake’s blood was boiling. Hot, red bubbles of anger passed through him as he watched Luke converse with you. You looked uncomfortable and his brother clearly didn’t get the hint. 

“Javy, put that bag down.” Jake motions for him to leave the duffle bag on the floor. “Hey, Luke, you mind helping us out back here?”

Coyote snickers as he drops the bag down by his feet, sending Jake a smirk. “Smooth, man.” 

“Shut up,” he retorts, though a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. 

“Yeah, I’m coming.” His brother calls out, leaving you standing by the curb. But not before giving you one last look he liked to call, the ladies man. He misses the way your nose crinkles as he walks away. “Really, Jake? You two big Navy men couldn’t lift this one bag into the trunk?” Luke guffaws. 

“Luke, always a pleasure.” Coyote nods at the man in faux pleasantry. 

Jake resists the urge to scoff. “We could. I just wanted to tell you something about Thumper.” 

“Man, you weren’t kidding when you said she was a looker. Thumper’s hot man,” Luke smirks. 

“Woah!” Javy scolded with his hands out. 

Jake on the other hand, felt that hot, boiling anger start to bubble over. He clenches his fists and his nostrils flare as he jabs his finger into Luke’s chest. “You better watch it.” 

Luke shrugs his shoulders. He was loving the rise that the mere mention of your callsign got out of Jake. He knew his little brother was protective, but damn did this girl have a hold on him. One he hasn’t seen since Jake’s last girlfriend. “I’m just saying. Now is that all? Because the lady is waiting.” 

He narrows his eyes at Luke, not letting the pressure on Luke’s chest weaken. “Thumper’s off limits. You got it?” 

Luke looks back at him without an ounce of fear. He raises a challenging brow. “We’ll see about that, brother.” 

________________

You fell asleep somewhere along the way to the Seresin’s ranch. The drive was another two hours to get out of the suburbs and by the time you woke up the cityscape was gone, now replaced with vast land of various shades of brown and green. 

You smile in amusement to yourself, watching a tumbleweed pass by. You were almost pressed up against the window staring in awe as they rolled. In your defense you thought they only existed in cheesy, low budget Western movies and cartoons. Seeing one in real life made you feel like a child again. 

The car ride was uncomfortably silent due to the presence of Jake’s brother. You haven't heard much about him other than that he was a year older than Jake. You noticed he didn’t like to talk about his brother much. His mother and father, however, you have heard all good things about. The nerves started to creep back into you and your leg started to bounce in the quiet of the car. 

Coyote catches your eye and he gives you a soft smile, placing his hand on your knee like Jake had once before. You exhale deeply, silently thanking him with a nod as you continue to pace your breaths. Going off the rails now wouldn’t help you in the long run, you knew that. You take another deep breath and you find some clarity. You were feeling the same way you felt every time you took off in your plane. As you went higher, so did your anxiety. Once you reached the right altitude, you fell into autopilot and it was all smooth sailing from there. This wasn’t any different. Meeting Jake’s family was the incline. You just need to get past the climb and everything will be okay. 

Your jaw practically drops as Luke pulls up to the property. The ranch was beautiful. Despite the winter climate, the lawn was green for miles. There was a large tree in the front with an old tire swing tied to one of its thick branches. A red, rusted truck that reminded you of Bella Swan’s was parked to the side. 

As the SUV pulls into park, you exit the vehicle staring at the house in awe. Small and simple didn’t describe it at all. “Holy shit,” you exhale, never taking your eyes off it. 

Jake steps out of the car as well and grins at you with his hands on his hips. He glances between you and the house and chuckles at your expression. 

“You’ve been holding out on me, Seresin. This isn’t a house. This is a mansion.” Your eyes run across the stunning two story home. The entire estate was painted a shade of pearl, one that reminded you of the White House. The home was modern, yet had a rustic appeal that fit perfectly against the country backdrop. 

Jake blushes, lowering his head in embarrassment. Being in the Navy has exposed him to people of different backgrounds than him, yet he still wasn’t used to the shameful reminder that he came from a family that had better than most. “It’s really nothing special. Just wait ‘til you see the horses,” he drives your attention away from the structure. 

You squeal at that. “Horses?” 

He slings an arm around your shoulder and laughs as he brings you to the trunk so he can help Javy with the bags. Luke had already wandered off to the front door, alerting his parents that they had arrived. 

At the sound of your gleeful laughter, Coyote shakes his head. “I told you if you just led with the horses, she wouldn’t have fought against your invite.” 

Jake scoffs. “That’s not true, right?” He looks down at you with wide eyes. 

“Well…” you trail off as Jake takes full offense to that by pulling his arm off of you to place a hand on his chest. 

Javy leads the way to the front door and the small banter exchanged between you and Jake was enough to take your mind off your impending doom. However, that also meant getting to the door quicker than you anticipated, giving you little to no time to prepare for a meet and greet. 

Jake takes your hand as you walk through the doorway, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You feel your palms start to sweat and you hope he can’t feel your moistening flesh. You barely make it a foot into the home when you’re bombarded by a short older woman throwing her arms around you. 

“My goodness, you’re even prettier in person!” She pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. She gives you a quick lookover. You immediately recognize the woman as one you’ve seen in many of the pictures Jake had in his room back on base. She had the same crinkles by her eyes and that breathtaking smile. 

You waited for the agony of feeling out of place to hit you, but then she’s gathering you in her arms once more. You let out a squawk of surprise and look at Jake who has released your hand and is pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Ma, lighten up there. She needs room to breathe,” he scolds. He mouths a sorry to you that you only dismiss with a subtle shake of the head. 

“Oh give me a minute to look at her, Jake.” She waves off her son before grabbing you gently once more. “It is so nice to finally meet you! Jake has told us so much about you.” 

“Mom–” He tries to interject but is cut off by his mother once more. 

“We’ve been hearing him go on and on about you for years. I mean, Thomas and I,” She pauses and hollers a loud, Thomas! behind her shoulder before turning back to you. “Thomas and I never thought we’d actually meet you in person, let alone in our own home! It is so good to have you here.” 

Her sweet words warm your heart. Though the bit about her knowing about you for years throws you off just a bit, you decide to keep it in the back of your mind to bring up later. “Well, thank you for letting me stay. I hope I’m not any trouble, I know this was all last minute and I’m sure you had other plans for the holiday.” 

“Nonsense, honey,” Mrs. Seresin coos. “We always love having company around here. Speaking of company, Javy Machado, I see you. Get over here!” 

You step out of the way with hot cheeks so Javy can take your place in Mrs. Seresin’s arms. You giggle as she squeezes Coyote’s cheeks. 

Luke comes back into the room with another man who you can only assume is Thomas Seresin. The man was intimidating, just as his sons were at first glance. You shrink into yourself, unknowingly stepping behind Jake’s broad shoulder. 

“As I live and breathe, if it ain’t my son finally back in town,” Mr. Seresin grins under his wide brimmed hat. 

Jake’s back straightens. He greets his father with a firm handshake and a small part of you is afraid of what his father is going to say next. But when the two break into similar smiles and gather one another in their arms, that fear turns into relief. Jake had told you his relationship with his father was complicated, so you didn’t know what to expect from him upon arrival. You were glad Mr. Seresin chose the more civil approach to your stay. 

Mr. Seresin sees your figure from behind his son and scoots over so he can have a better view of you. “Thomas Seresin,” he greets with an outstretched hand. “I’m assuming that makes you Thumper?” 

“That’s me sir,” you timidly reach out to shake his hand. 

He blows a raspberry with a hearty laugh. “Please, call me Thomas. Are you alright with us calling you Thumper or do you prefer us use a different name?” 

“Thumper’s alright with me,” you nod as he releases your hand and goes to greet Javy who was finally released from Mrs. Seresin’s clutches. 

“Ma, look at the poor thing, she’s overwhelmed.” Luke comes to your other side, a little too close for your liking and you hook your arm around Jake’s and press yourself up against him. “Maybe you should rest in the room.” 

Jake notices and brings you closer to his side by unraveling his arm from yours and wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulls you flush into his side and feels the tension in your body begin to fade. This time, he won’t deny the smile that tugs at his lips at you finding comfort in him. “I think Thumper can speak for herself,” Jake challenges his brother. His stern glare softens as he looks at you. 

All eyes land on you and you can’t help but avoid eye contact with everyone else. You pick at the cuticles of your nails and exhale shakily. As lovely as Jake’s parents were, you needed a second to recuperate after all the introductions. You also wanted to make sure Jake was doing okay. Despite all the attention you’ve been getting, your own has been concentrated solely on the blond. There was this nagging feeling in your chest that alerted you to Jake’s own unease, similar to the way you could feel his rare moments of uncertainty in the air. “I was actually wondering if it would be okay for Jake and Javy to take me out to the town for a little while. I heard it was beautiful out there this time of year and can’t wait to see for myself.” 

The proud smirk on Jake’s face is no longer hidden as he smugly looks at his brother. “That sounds like a great idea, darling.” 

Coyote nods in agreement and checks his watch. “We should probably head out now though, before the sun sets. That way we can also make it back for dinner. If that’s okay with you, Thumps.”

“Sounds good, Coyote,” you affirm. 

“Maybe I should go with you guys,” Luke interjects, eagerly. “It might be easier for you to settle in if you have a more reliable guide.” 

This guy just would not quit, you think to yourself. Stubbornness must be a Seresin trait. 

Jake opens his mouth to oppose, getting irritated at his brother’s constant persistence to steal his time with you away. It was so typical of him to force his way into Jake’s life, just like he did in high school. 

Mrs. Seresin sighs as she hands Jake the keys to their truck. “Oh, let them be, Lucas.” She glances between you and Jake with a gentle smile. “Besides, I have a feeling Thumper’s gonna settle in just fine. You three better get a move on. You’re losing daylight.” 

“Thanks, Ma,” Jake mouths to his mother, though she pretends not to know what he’s talking about. Thank goodness his mother was on his side this time. 

_______

The Seresin’s property was around a thirty minute drive away from the nearest town of Mt. Davina. You don’t remember passing by on the drive up and you figure it must’ve been because you were knocked out at the time. You found yourself caught between Jake and Javy in the truck’s bench seat. It was a bit of a tight squeeze and you were straddling the middle counsel with your thighs, but you didn’t mind. It was similar to flying in your F-18. 

The entire ride there, you took in every story and anecdote that fell from your friends’ lips. Hearing about how Jake and Javy were when they were younger had you seeing your friends in a new light. You loved how their eyes lit up and their cheeks would flush when one of them would recount an embarrassing moment about the other. It gave you a sense of connection to their brotherhood, one you now had a better understanding of.

It warmed your heart that they were letting you into this part of their lives. Compared to the rest of the squad, they were more reserved when it came to sharing tidbits of their life before the Navy. They would rather keep up the reputation they had now instead of tarnishing it with their “uncool” lives before then. 

You were currently laughing along with Javy about the time he caught Jake belting Taylor Swift’s Picture to Burn while he was cleaning the horse stables back in high school. 

“Who knew? Hangman Seresin is secretly a Swiftie,” you tease, proud of how pink the tips of his ears were getting. You rarely pulled this flustered type of behavior from him so it was definitely one you were going to take advantage of. 

“It’s a good song, alright?” Jake defends. He won’t admit however that he was secretly enjoying this back and forth storytelling thing him and Javy had going on. It was enough to diminish your apprehensiveness from when you were meeting his family. He was glad he was able to pull the real Thumper back out of your shell. The way you threw your head back in laughter and wiped at the tears that dared to escape your eyes was something he could only describe as angelic. 

“He’s not wrong about that one, Coyote.” You nudge Jake’s shoulder with yours and your heart flutters at the smile he sends you in return. “Although, don’t be surprised if I get Bradshaw to learn some Taylor Swift just for you.” 

He groans and Javy bursts into another round of laughs as the two of you continue to take jabs at Jake’s nonexistent obsession with Taylor Swift. As Jake listens to the jokes you and Javy make, he realizes that he would share every embarrassing fact about himself if it got that reaction out of you. He would recount every time he has accidentally tripped over a hay bale or show you how ridiculous he looked in his oversized cowboy boots and hat as a kid just to hear you laugh the way you did just now. In fact, he found himself wanting to share every aspect of his life with you. He desperately hoped you wanted to do the same. 

You were somewhat of a mystery to him. Yes, he could read you better than the others could and you’ve grown closer during the time you spent in Miramar. But you could also be closed off from him. He didn’t know much about your past or what your life was like growing up. Phoenix had told him you didn’t like sharing that part of yourself. Not because you didn’t trust the others with it, but rather because you were afraid of what they’d think of you after. He begged Phoenix to tell him so he could understand you better, but she told him it wasn’t her story to tell. Jake respected that and let you keep your boundaries. However, the time he spent with you made him realize that the past no longer mattered. Nothing could change the way he looked at you. 

The town of Mount Davina was beautiful. So used to the crowded suburbs of San Diego, this felt like a breath of fresh air. The walk through town felt like a Hallmark Christmas movie. The quaint small town shops were adorned with quirky and elegant holiday decorations. There was a Christmas tree in the middle of the main street that was impossible to miss. Children and teenagers alike run up and down the sidewalks as the adults chatter and warn their kids to stay out of the street. You imagine little Jake and Javy running down the cobblestone streets, causing havoc like the troublemakers they were. 

A brief tour of some of the shops gives you a feel of the little community. While some shop owners came and went, there were a few who had been there to see Mount Davina grow. The familiarity in their faces when Jake and Javy walked in told you that much. 

“I can’t believe Mr. Edison sold that place,” Jake lamented. 

Coyote agrees, holding the door open for you and Jake to enter through. “Me too. Man, I’m gonna miss that place.” 

The warmth of the cafe hits you when you cross the doorway. The smell of fresh coffee and pastries is welcomed, smelling absolutely delectable in the cold, gloomy weather. “You’re going to miss the bait and tackle place? Do you guys even fish?” You giggle. 

“It’s the thought that counts, sweetheart,” Jake remarks matter of factly. 

After a battle of credit cards with Jake over the hot chocolate and pastries—he insisted on paying but you wouldn’t let him, which ultimately resulted in Javy taking the bill— the three of you settled in one of the booths at the back of the cafe. 

The sip you take from your cup is absolute heaven. The rich, smooth chocolate and its warmth as it goes down your throat sends a shiver down your spine as it melts your insides. 

Jake catches the way your eyes close in content with a grin. “Told you, it’s good right?” 

“Good? This is heaven in a cup.” You put the cup down and hang your head back with a sigh. 

They ended the tour with this stop at their favorite cafe before the three of you headed back to Jake’s house. The rest of the night went by smoothly despite the absence of Luke who seemed to have turned in extremely early for the night. Javy parted ways with the rest of you, leaving with Mr. Seresin to head back home. Jake had insisted on taking him home, but Javy made it clear that he wanted Jake to help you settle in for the night. 

A soft knock to your door takes you away from your book as you mutter a soft, “come in,” to the person on the other side. 

Jake enters the guest room with his plaid pajama pants and plain black tee shirt. His hair is slightly disheveled and no longer fixed to perfection. To put it simply, he was the epitome of domesticity in this light. Your heart fluttered as you took him. Jake was good looking. There was no doubt about that, but for some reason seeing him in this way made him even more attractive. You almost turn a hideous shade of green at the thought of anyone else getting to see him like this. 

He settles beside you, sitting against the headboard of the bed. “I just wanted to say goodnight before you fell asleep.” 

You smile sweetly at him and bookmark the page you are on before putting your book on the bedside table. He’s twiddling with his thumbs and he won’t meet your eye, giving you the impression that there was something else going on in his mind. “Talk to me, Hangman. How are you doing?” 

The use of his callsign told him you were all business right now. “I don’t know. Everything is just so weird, you know? Being back here, seeing my family again. Having you meet them… it’s just weird.” 

Your smile drops slightly at his words and you grimace. Every doubt you had before coming here came flooding back to you all in one go. You should’ve known this was all a little too good to be true. You should have known that Jake was only being thoughtful by inviting you home with him. It didn’t mean he actually wanted you here. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I can take the next flight out of Dallas and everything can go back to normal.” 

“Woah hey, Thumps, what are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in confusion and his hand shot out to catch yours. 

You pull away from him, shaking your head. “I’m sorry for making things weird. I can leave as soon as possible and we don’t have to talk about any of this ever again.” 

“No, no, sweetheart. That’s not at all what I meant. Hey,” he cups the side of your face, running his thumb across your cheekbone. “It’s not you making things weird. I want you here. I swear, I am so happy you’re here.” You see no hint of dishonesty in his form, making you relax just a bit. “You promise?” You ask, hesitantly. 

He nods, his grip on your hand tightening reassuringly. “It’s not you that’s making this weird, I think it’s me.” 

It’s your turn to be confused. “You?” 

“I’m not the same person I was the last time I was here. I mean, don’t be surprised, but I wasn’t always the confident hotshot of a pilot I am today,” he says in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

You laugh lightly, knocking your shoulder with his. “Really? You mean to say Jake Seresin hasn’t always been this cocky?” 

He musters a weak smile. “No, it’s true. You’d be surprised by the guy I used to be.” 

“Oh yeah? Humor me, Seresin,” you challenge. You turn to rest on your side, leaning on your arm to face him. 

“Where to start,” he pretends to contemplate. “I was quiet. Almost as timid as you, Thumps.” He reaches out to tap his finger lightly against the tip of your nose, eliciting a small giggle from your lips. “And I wasn’t an obnoxious attention seeker.” 

“You’re not obnoxious,” you interject. 

“I am! Ask anyone on the squad.” 

You see right through Jake’s facade of masking his insecurities with humor because you tend to do it yourself. But you thought the world of him, and hearing him belittle himself made you want to fight whoever made Jake think this way. “Why do you do that?” 

“Do what?” He questions, watching the way your forehead crinkles in thought. 

“Say that about yourself. You’re not obnoxious, Jake. No one thinks that.” 

You speak to him with such conviction in your eyes, such honesty, that it makes him want to kiss you right then and there. It takes every ounce of restraint for him not to. Instead, he plainly shrugs. 

“Jake,” you frown, scooting closer to him. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but whatever it is, you know that I’m here for you right? Just like you’re always here for me.” 

“Yeah I know, darling. Sorry for dumping this on you with no resolve—“ 

“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes we feel things and we don’t know why. And that’s okay. Just know that I never thought of you that way.” You hold his gaze, hoping he can feel the sincerity of your words. 

There’s a warmth growing in his chest that Jake has only ever felt when he was with you. He just wished he could put it into words to let you know just how much he appreciated you. He was never good with words, but he was great at taking action. 

He wraps his arms around you, the weight of him pushing you into the mattress. But you don’t mind. You loved being close to him. The two of you lay in that comfortable silence as he eventually moves to rest his head on your chest. Your fingers find their way to his hair and you run them back and forth through the short hairs at his neckline. 

You find yourself drifting in and out of sleep when Jake begrudgingly untangles himself from your hold. He knows he won’t be able to find it in him to leave if he didn’t now. He gently moves away from your touch despite the disdain that stirs in his chest. “Goodnight darling,” he whispers into the night. 

You acknowledge him with a hum, rolling over. 

Kiss her you fool, the voice in his head screams at him. 

He clenches his fist, desperate to brush aside the stray hair on your forehead and plant the sweetest of kisses there. But he doesn’t. As much as it pains him, he can’t. 

Jake opted for one last soft goodnight before heading to bed himself. That night he drifts off into dreams of you and what could be.

____________

A few days passed of you staying at the Seresin’s and you were settling in much better than you expected. You spent the mornings making breakfast with his mother and eating with his family, the days exploring the ranch with Jake and Javy, and the evenings wrapping presents with Jake. 

You found yourself feeling much more comfortable with them than you thought you would. You would even go as close to saying they felt like family. (Yes, even Luke who seemed to ease up and leave you alone). 

This morning started the same as always. You were helping Mrs. Seresin with the dishes while Jake and Luke cleaned up the table. Mr. Seresin had left early this morning to help one of their family friends down in the city. 

You’re laughing with his mother in the kitchen causing Jake to almost drop the remainder of the plates that sat on the dining table. 

“Jesus, Jakey. All that Navy training, and yet you’re still a klutz?” Luke chortled. 

Jake rolls his eyes, ignoring the jab at his childhood nickname that Luke knows he loathes. He stacks the rest of the plates as his brother continues to lean back, letting his brother do all the work. 

Luke’s eyes drift to the kitchen, following Jake’s stare and he sees exactly what had Jake so distracted. He clicks his tongue with a knowing smirk. “What’s going on with you and Thumper?” 

“Nothing,” Jake grumbles. He was not falling for another one of Luke’s games. Jake has had enough of his brother butting into his business in high school. He wasn’t going to let him get away with it now. 

“Really? Because it looks like you have a little crush on her.” Luke eyes the way Jake’s jaw ticks and continues on. “Did I say little? I meant big. A big crush on her. How long has that been going on? A year? Two years?” 

Jake fires back. “That’s really none of your business.” 

“Touchy, touchy,” Luke goads. “You haven’t told her how you feel. Why not?” Jake stays silent, giving him the perfect opportunity to strike. He snaps his fingers in mocking realization and leans forward so he can be eye to eye with his brother. “Oh, that’s right. You haven’t told her how you feel because you know she won’t say she feels the same way.” 

“Leave it alone, Luke.” Jake’s breath hitches in the back of his throat and there’s a familiar sting that tickles the tip of his nose. 

“You know you won’t be enough for her. That’s why you haven’t said anything, right?” 

Jake wants to punch his brother’s perfect teeth out as he smugly grins, knowing he hit him right where it hurts. “Shut up,” he hisses. 

“Because deep down, you know that compared to someone like me, she will never settle for a man like you.” 

He spins on his heel, grabbing Luke by the collar. Nostrils flared and cheeks red, Jake clenches his fists. “You better choose your next words, or I’ll–” 

“Boys?” The sound of their mother’s voice breaks up what would have become a full fledged fist fight. “Are you done with those plates?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got ‘em, Ma,” Luke hollers, scooping up the stack at the corner of the table. He gives Jake a wink, not at all phased by his brother’s behavior and strides off to the kitchen. 

Luke knows damn well that Jake is watching his every move and he purposely puts his hand on your lower back, gently moving you aside as he places the rest of the dishes in the sink. You’re a  bit flustered by the contact and you bashfully stutter over your quick words of greeting toward the man. You tuck your chin to your sternum with a shy smile. 

The way you don’t shift away from his touch feels like a stab to Jake’s heart. 

_________

“You ready to go, cowboy?” Jake’s staring out at the yard in deep thought as you approach him. You come to a stop beside him and he still has yet to acknowledge your presence. “Jake?” You tap him lightly on the shoulder. 

He doesn’t even turn to look at you as he replies shortly, “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

You frown at his tone, but brush it off with the assumption that it had something to do with the conversation you had a few nights ago. Since then, you never dared to bring it up knowing that Jake would come to you on his own time. You observed the Seresin family closely during your stay at their estate after that night, noticing how the Seresins seemed to favor their oldest son. Whether they realized they were doing it or not, you couldn’t tell. However, the innocence in his mother’s voice told you that she didn’t mean any harm by the things she said. Mr. Seresin on the other hand, was too hot and cold for you to come to a conclusion about where he stood with Jake. 

Falling into step with him during your trek to the truck, you try to get him to look at you. One thing you knew about Jake Seresin was that he held all his weight on his shoulders. Today, they were touching his earlobes, a tell tale sign that he was not at all relaxed. “Are you okay?” You stop him in his tracks with a gentle touch to his elbow. 

“Fine,” is all he says before unlocking the truck and jumping into the driver’s side. 

The ride to Coyote’s place was quiet. It wasn’t the usual, comfortable silence that fell between you and Jake but rather a heavy silence that was suffocating. The only sounds that could be heard is the hum of the truck’s engine and the staticky Christmas music that played off the old radio. 

Javy felt the tension the second he got into the truck. He sent you a questioning look to which you only gave back a halfhearted shrug.  

The melancholy atmosphere continued to carry over once you reached the small shopping mall in town. Javy tried his best to lighten the mood, but even his normally enticing jokes didn’t seem to work. Jake had excused himself to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone with Coyote. 

“What happened this morning?” Javy questions. 

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I’m just as lost as you are. Everything was good, great even. And then all of a sudden… nothing. He’s just icing me out.” You don’t need to say that it hurt you for Javy to know that. “Was it something I did? If it is I need to know, Javy. I can’t bear the thought of not knowing if I did something to make him mad at me.” 

“Oh, Thumper, I doubt that it’s anything you did. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll try to find out for you.” He opens his arm up to you and pulls you into his side. 

“Thanks, Coyote,” you say against his shoulder. 

When Jake comes back, he still doesn’t say much, letting the silence do most of the talking for him. You decide to ask the boys if you could walk around by yourself for a bit and you could tell that Jake is hesitant to let you go off on your own. But he doesn’t stop you. He lets you go. For some reason, it tugs at your already weakened heartstrings a little more. 

“Hey, what’s the matter with you, man?” Coyote stops Jake, pulling him off to the side. 

He doesn’t dare make eye contact with his friend. “Nothing.” 

Javy scoffs, clearly not buying any of Jake’s bullshit. “So what, ignoring Thumper and acting like an asshole is nothing?” Hand it to Coyote to call it as it is. “She thinks she did something wrong, you know. And it’s killing her.” 

That breaks a bit of Jake’s resolve. “She didn’t do anything. I swear, it’s not her.” 

“Then what? Because she doesn’t deserve to be thrown off to the side, let alone by you of all people.” There’s an unspoken understanding that passes between the two of them by his words. 

Jake knew he was right. Him, who promised he’d never leave hanging despite what everyone said about him. By avoiding you, he was doing just that. He tried so hard not to let the conversation he had with his brother this morning get to him. Yet after seeing how you interacted with his brother, he was suddenly in high school again. Left to his own devices, watching as Luke took away every good thing that Jake had. He didn’t stop to think that he was driving you right into Luke’s arms by his actions. “You’re right.” Jake finally submits. “It’s fucking Luke again, you know? He called me out on my feelings for Thumper and said some things that made me see red.” 

“What things?” 

“Just something along the lines of him being a better guy than me. You know, the usual. Then he spewed some shit about Thumper not feeling the same towards me.”

Coyote raises a brow. “And you believe him?” 

Jake dryly laughs. “I was really trying not to until I saw how she was with him. God, thinking of them together is already enough to make me sick.” 

“You know Thumper. And Thumper knows you better than Luke. I highly doubt that she’d ever go for a guy like him. Not when she has you.” Javy places a confirming hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Don’t let him get to your head again. Use that brain of yours to take your control back instead of letting him control you.” 

Jake’s shoulders deflate. “I don’t want to lose her, Javy. Especially not to Luke.” 

“You won’t, alright? You won’t lose her. Not to Luke, not to anyone. That girl loves you as much as you love her, hell, maybe even more!” Javy lightly chuckles. 

He blushes red at his statement. “Who said that I love her?” 

“Jake, I knew you were attracted to Thumper but it was pretty much implied the second you jumped the gun and invited her to come home with us. You would never bring anyone home. You don’t trust anyone enough to do that. And yet…” 

It doesn’t hit him like some kind of epiphany. The realization that he loved you, that he was in love with you flowed through every inch of his body. Because deep down, he knew the feeling was always there. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on you at Top Gun the second time, that you were it for him. That this was fate giving him a second chance to get to know the aviator who blew him away the first time he was at Top Gun and to actually muster up the guts to make a move. Jake Seresin was in love with you. He didn’t feel surprised as it dawned on him. It was why he knew all the little details about you by heart. Why he needed to keep his eye on your drink the entire time whenever you guys were at the bar. How every touch the two of you shared felt like magic. How naturally his body just melted into you. He didn’t feel surprised that he loved you because his body already knew it from the start. Only now, was he able to put that tug, that aching feeling in his chest that he got whenever you were around, into words. It was love. This entire time, what he was feeling was love. 

“I love her,” he says, like a secret only to be shared between him and Coyote. “I love her,” he says again with more conviction in his tone. “I love her,” he states. It’s a truth. It’s a fact. He loves you. He loves you and he needs to tell you before his heart bursts. “Come on, we should go find her now.” 

Jake leads the way like a man on a mission, remembering the store you told them you would be at. A newfound fire burns in his chest as he repeats those three words in his head like a mantra. He’s buzzing with hope, anxious but eager to find you and say those three words that linger on the tip of his tongue. 

He enters the department store with Javy right on his tail. Jake makes a beeline to the women’s clothing section when he hears your melodic laugh. He follows it like a moth to a flame, incapable of wasting another second away from you. 

Coyote can barely keep up with his friend as he has to jog to keep up with him. However, Jake abruptly stops causing him to run straight into his back. “Dude!” he exclaims. 

Jake’s body goes rigid, his shoulders taut, making alarm bells go off in Javy’s head. He peers around his shoulder to see what had him floored when he sees you and Luke looking a little too close for a public setting. Luke’s hand is in yours and your mouth is slightly agape as he seems to lean into you. 

He looks from you, to Luke, to Jake, and if it weren’t for his brother’s boisterously loud greeting once he saw they were standing there, Javy was sure he would’ve been able to hear Jake’s heart shatter. 

____________

Luke showing up at the mall was the last thing any of you expected to happen on your outing today. You were caught by surprise when you heard your callsign being called in the store. There were only so many people who actually knew you in this town, and for a moment you were quite startled. That was until you turned around and saw Luke Seresin heading your way. 

The rest of the day took a weird turn from there. Jake and Javy had found the two of you and Javy, a little too enthusiastically, decided to join the two of you in your shopping. Well, you were shopping and Luke was being a bit of a bother. 

You had wanted to go to the ice skating rink after shopping today, but something about the way Jake and Luke were eyeing each other made you decide that it probably wasn’t the best day for that. 

Jake’s mood hadn’t changed since the last time you saw him, but at least he was talking to you a  little more now. It wasn’t completely better, but it was a start. You noticed the constant back and forth stares the brothers shared and the way they puffed their chests whenever one of them got a little too close to the other. 

You were getting tired of the two’s antics and decided to just head back to the ranch. At least there you could lock yourself up in the bedroom and have some peace. 

You dropped Javy back off at his house and went back for dinner at the Seresin’s yet the weird atmosphere between you and the two boys didn’t seem to waver. Luke had spent the entire meal talking your ears off about God knows what. You had zoned out, far too occupied with the other Seresin beside you who had barely spoken to you the entire day. After dinner, instead of sticking around to chat like you usually would, you excused yourself onto the back deck where Jake had disappeared not long ago. The deck had frozen over just a bit and you tried your best to wobble your way to Jake. 

He must have heard you because he turns around to meet you. You open your mouth to speak, taking another step forward when you slip. A yelp leaves you and you’re falling forward with your eyes closed, your reflexes far too slow to catch yourself. 

Jake, on the other hand, bolts forward to catch you in his arms. He almost slips as well but nearly regains his balance as you hold on to him tightly with your arms wound around his waist. 

“Sorry,” you breathe against his chest. 

His heart skips a beat and he continues to hold you close. You try to bring yourself back to a stand but your knees buckle and you end up slipping again. 

“Shit!” Jake lets out, shuffling to hold you up. He slides one arm around your lower back, pulling you flush against him, while the other wraps around your shoulders. You’re shaking from the cold and the adrenaline of the entire situation. Jake leans back on the wooden rail of the deck, but doesn’t let you go. He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back, relishing in your closeness as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. “You’re okay, I’ve got you,” he mutters. “It’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper this time, feeling the pain in your chest rise. You missed him. Jake had been here the entire time, yet all it took was one day of him barely talking to you and you missed him. 

“It’s okay.” Jake sighs into your hair. He doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for, but in his eyes, you can do no wrong. So to him, you were just spouting empty apologies. If anyone had something to be sorry for, it was him. 

You had finally stopped shaking. There was no reason for Jake to still be holding you and yet you didn’t want him to let you go. “I’m sorry,” you say once more, though you don’t really know what you’re apologizing for. 

He doesn’t answer you then. He just rests his chin on your shoulder. Jake’s touch felt different than the other times he has held you. You felt him everywhere. In your bones to the tips of your fingers, everything else beyond him ceased to exist. 

You don’t know how much time has passed before you’re finally letting go of him, remembering why you followed Jake out there in the first place. 

“Are you okay?” You peer up at him from under your lashes. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about sweetheart.” He smooths his hands up and down your arms. “I promise.” He tilts your head up to face him so you can see the earnest look in his eyes. 

“Alright. But I still worry about you anyway.” 

He smiles softly. He knows you do. It makes him regret his reaction earlier even more. “I’m sorry about today. How I treated you wasn’t fair. I was just going through some stuff and–” 

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself. I know you don’t like doing the whole feelings and vulnerability thing,” you dismiss. 

Jake appreciates how you just seem to understand him without him having to explain himself. He didn’t, however, get how you didn’t notice that you were the only person he was openly vulnerable with. What more could he do to make you understand that he wanted you to have every part of him? 

You move to lean up against the rail beside him. The Texas night sky is much clearer than the one in San Diego, giving you the perfect view of the stars. It was cold enough that you could see your breath out there, but you didn’t mind. “It’s beautiful out here,” you direct your words to the stars. 

Jake stares at you with full blown adoration in his eyes. “It is, isn’t it?”

You lean your head on his shoulder, admiring the view. 

Now was perfect, Jake was sure of it. You under the pale moonlight pressed up against his side with that dreamy look in your eyes…

Seeing you with Luke earlier that day made him realize that he could lose at any minute. And he couldn’t lose you, not to his brother. Not to anyone. Jake Seresin was done living under his brother’s manipulation. He was done being a coward. 

“Thumper.” 

“Hangman,” you parrot. 

There’s no going back. Take a breath and take the shot. It’s as easy as flying. Almost. 

“Hey, you two! Get inside. It’s freezing out there!” Mrs. Seresin hollers from the open door of the back deck. 

Jake lets out a heavy sigh, hanging his head low as you pull away from him. 

“Your mother’s right. We should head in.” You nod towards the door. 

He follows you in, silently cursing at the night sky for having his perfect moment ruined. 

“Wait!” His mother exclaims, stopping the both of you. 

Jake places a gentle hand on your hip to avoid running into you. “What, Ma?” 

She points up at the door frame with a giddy smile and the two of you glance up to see a cluster of green above your heads. 

“Oh…” You rub the back of your neck, sheepishly. 

Luke and Mr. Seresin enter the room, curious to see what the commotion is about. Luke has a sour look on his face while Mr. Seresin watches on in amusement. 

“Well?” His father pushes while Luke snorts. 

“He’s not gonna do it, Dad,” Luke laughs. 

You snap your head towards him with distaste. You don’t miss the way Jake’s face falls at his words. 

Jake’s cheeks are pink and it’s not because of the cold. Hand it to Luke to make Jake feel like an idiot in front of the girl that he loved. 

You turn to face him with wide eyes. “It is tradition,” you say softly. 

He masks his surprise with a cough.“I guess it is.” He leans in, meeting you halfway. Jake stops with the tip of his nose barely brushing yours. His eyes ask you for permission and you subtly urge him ahead.

The second your lips touch his, Jake’s sure he never wants to kiss another woman ever again. You’re pressed to his chest with your hands reaching up to pull him closer by the neck. Your lips mold together like pieces of a puzzle. No other kiss has ever felt so real. So right. 

The wait was worth it. He would finally be able to confirm that you were just as incredible as the fantasies he painted in his head. 

Your lungs start to burn and to your dismay you untangle yourself from him, gasping for air. Your lips tingle as you pull away and you can still taste him faintly on your tongue. Jake had just given you the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

You stare into Jake’s eyes that are as dark a shade of green as the mistletoe on the door. The quickening pace of your heart terrifies you as your brain tells you to kiss him again. You want to. You’ve never wanted anything more than to kiss him again. To have his hands roam every inch of your body, your bare skin. You want him. But you can’t. You can’t ruin this. You can’t risk losing the one good thing you worked so hard to have. 

You take a large step back from Jake who had been eyeing you wearily upon noticing your apprehensive state. 

“Thumper,” he breathes. 

You swallow harshly, darting straight to the staircase startling Jake and the rest of his family who you forgot was still there. 

You turn on your heel, quickly glancing over his family before landing on Jake. There’s an unreadable expression on his face and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying. 

“Goodnight,” is all you say before rushing upstairs and locking yourself in the guest bedroom. 

Your emotions begin to bubble up to the surface the second the events of the night have a chance to sink in. 

You just kissed Jake Seresin, your best friend. And you liked it. You would do it over and over again if you could. 

But Jake would never go for someone like you. Not in a million years. You’ve seen the women he flirted with at the bar and went on dates with. You were definitely not his type. You could never compete with them. Not by a long shot. Jake saw you as a pal. A good buddy. A friend. Not someone he would be romantically attracted to. You were sure of it. Never, in a million years, would you be good enough for Jake Seresin. He deserved more. He deserved better. 

When you let Jake in all those years ago, you never thought that you would end up falling for him too. After tonight, there was no more denying how strong your feelings were for your best friend. All it took was one kiss to confirm that what you were feeling was real. But you wouldn’t let yourself get hurt again. You swore to keep your heart locked away in the confines of your brick walls after what happened last time. Those same walls that Jake had managed to break down within one month of knowing you. 

Jake Seresin was a shoulder to cry on when no one was around. He was an ear to listen to all your crazy rants and terrible dad jokes. He was a home when you didn’t have one. Little did you know that he was also the key to unlocking the chains you kept wrapped around your aching heart. That he was the key to finally setting yourself free. 

a/n: thank you so much for all the love you’ve given this series!! it really keeps me motivated to continue writing. i’m thinking of having another part of this specific chapter that goes more into thumper and her backstory, if that’s something anyone is interested in. anyways, as usual, the inbox is always open for any of your thoughts/questions you may have. happy holidays! i love you all <3 

taglist: @joaquinwhorres​ @bobfloydsbabe​ @t-nd-rfoot​​ @gretagerwigsmuse​​ @marantha​​ @mountainrooster​​ @gcidrvsh @smoothdogsgirl​​ @pr3ttyboysmakemecry​​ @steve--harrington--gal @marrianena​ @cdauni @gigisimsonmars​ @bookaholics-stuff​ @dempy​ @potato-girl99981​ @captain-beskar​ @novagreen04 @enigmalynne​ @teacupsandtopgun​ @rhirhikingston @harrycherrylove

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- Tony Stark (Ironman)

• Mortal Kombat 🐉

- Bi-Han (Noob Saibot/Sub-Zero)

- Erron Black

- Fujin

- Geras

- Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion)

- Havik

- Jax Briggs

- Johnny Cage

- Kabal

- Kano

- Kenshi Takahashi

- Kuai Liang (Sub-Zero/Scorpion)

- Kung Jin

- Kung Lao

- Liu Kang

- Radien

- Reiko

- Syzoth (Reptile)

- Takeda

- Tomas Vrbada (Smoke)

• Percy Jackson 🔱

- Grover Underwood

- Leo Valdez

- Luke Castellen

- Percy Jackson

• Scream 🔪😱

- Billy Loomis

- Chad Meeks Martian

- Danny Brackett

- Wes Hicks

- Mickey Alteri

• Wolf Pack 🐺

- Everett Ross

- Harlan Briggs

What I feel comfortable writing for:

• Bondage

• Overstim/Edging

Stuff I feel if-y to write for:

• Age Gap

• Cheating

• Daddy Kinks

• Poly relationships

• Spit Kinks

• Threesome

What I will not write for:

• Any female characters

• Any Irl celebrities

• Piss/shit kinks etc

• Rape/Non-consensual

• Sex slave type of stuff

• MTF/FTM

Common Questions

Are F!Readers allowed to read my stories?

- Absolutely! Just don’t fetishize it!

Can ppl reblog my stories

- Yes!

Can I request more than once?

- of course!

Why Don’t you write for FTM/MTF?

- I personally do not know how that feels like so I don't think I can really do your request justice and I don’t really feel comfortable writing for that

(If you have any more questions you want to ask me, feel free to message me!)

Get to know me!

• I am Asian

• I am a kpop Stan, and most of my stories are named after a kpop song or a line in a kpop song (don’t judge me)

• I usually take a really long time to make fics so don’t be concerned if I haven’t made you’re request

• Artists I listen to: Aespa, AleXa, Ariana Grande, Baby Monster, Beabadoobee, Bibi, Blackpink, Conan Gray, Dream Catcher, (G) I-dle, GOT The Beat, Itzy, Ive, Jini, K/DA, Kiss Of Life, Lana Del Rey, Laufey, Lee Chaeyeon, Le Sserafim, Little Mix, Lyn Lapid, Madison Beer, Mad Tsai, Mamamoo, Mave, Melanie Martinez, New Jeans, Nmixx, Olivia Rodrigo, Poppy, Red Velvet, Sarah Cothran, Soojin, Stayc, Taeyon, Taylor Swift, Twice, and XG

• I change my pfp every 5 seconds💀

• I watched scream, Fear street, wolf pack, lab rats, literally any marvel movies/shows, some dc movies/shows, and a lot more!

[black-diamond1329]

⭐ Name: Sandra, but you can tell me Sandy 😉.

⭐Age: I feel like I'm 15 years old, I stopped counting at 19 and my friends say that I act like I'm 5 years old XD hahaha ... Nah! I just turned 23 years old this August n_n.

💔 Occupation: Being a universitary girl XD ... Yes! It's so fun! (sarcasm).

🩷 Some things that I love it: Read (I read all kinds of books and about my favorite ships on Ao3! 🤭), cook desserts, listen to music while I do other activities like my homework or when I read, Greek mythology (The love between us will never die! 💗).

⭐Saint Seiya (or Knights of the Zodiac). I found this beautiful serie when I was 7 years old. My favorite is the original serie, although I also like the Lost Canvas a lot and Episode G (because Aioria is the protagonist). Soul of Gold gives me mixed feelings. From Omega and Next Dimension, better don't ask me; my mind lives in denial. My favorite characters are the Golden Saints, especially Aioros and Aioria, being Aioria my super favorite.

Thanks to Saint Seiya I developed a great love for the stars 💫 and I have many scientific books on the subject, as well as books of myths and legends about the constellations ✨.

💥 I'm a Marvel Girl. I love those tormented superheroes and antiheroes. I basically grew up watching Marvel since Iron Man came out in 2008 and I immersed myself fully in the world of the comics, I have a lot of comics and books on my bookshelf 🤭. My favorites are: Iron Man ♥️, Captain America, Spider-Man, Loki, the X-Men, Black Widow and Scarlet Witch, in all their presentations and with all their charms and defects!.

🍿Series: Friends, Full House, The big bang theory, How I met your mother and How I met your father, Modern Family, Mom, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel... I love it K-Dramas like Goblin: The lonely and great God, Crash landing on you, Tale of the Nine Tailed 😋, I have also watched many animes like Sailor Moon, Ouran High School Host Club, Toradora, Code Geass, Inuyasha, Kaleido Star, Shaman King, Attack on Titan... it's a long list and I don't remember everything at this moment 🤔. Miraculous Ladybug (I know it's for kids, but ... there is Chat Noir 🖤).

🐉In my House of the Dragon era 🖤: Like many people, I was also terribly disappointed with the horrible ending of Game of Thrones, but I really loved Fire and Blood when I read it in 2020... so I decided to give the serie a chance when I saw the first trailer... and I don't regret it! 🥳. I liked Daemon and Rhaenyra so much in the book and absolutely loved them in the TV Show! (Matt and Emma are incredible! ❣️). Another character that I loved in the book and the one I always wanted to know more about was Jacaerys Velaryon and I must say that I am very pleased with the choice of Harry Collett 😍 (oh yeah baby! 🔥).

I really hope that the directors and writers do justice to this wonderful crown prince! 🥰, because for me he is already one of my favorite characters of all time! ❣️.

🎥 Favorite Movies: Troy 2004 (did I mention I'm a Greek mythology lover?), the Star Wars saga 💫 (1-6 only), The Great Gatsby, A Walk to Remember, Harry Potter 🪄 (books and movies), The Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Hobbit trilogy, The Hunger Games saga ❣️(books and movies), The Twilight saga 😊 (books and movies).

I love Studio Ghibli movies with all my heart 💗 since my dad bought me the movie of Kiki Delivery Service when I was a 6-year-old little girl.

I love everything Disney and Pixar does 💗😘. (think of the happiest things, It's the same as having wings! 🎶)

🎧 Music: I have a very varied taste in music, some would say strange 😅, but if I like the rhythm and lyrics of the song I will surely add it to my playlist (mainly I like rock), AC / DC, Queen, Guns N' Roses, Bon Jovi, Linkin Park, Evanescence, Within Temptation, Imagine Dragons, Beyoncé, Ed Sheeran, Lana del Rey, Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. I enjoy classical music too 🩷.

⭐ Something more about me: I am an inveterate dreamer and extremely perfectionist. I express myself better by writing than talking 😚.

I haven't drawn anything in almost 5 years and when I did I used to draw with traditional media (watercolor, charcoal, colored pencils, gouche and acrylic paints 🖌️).

But since October (from last year), when I saw Harry Collett as Prince Jacaerys, I felt a desire to draw that I hadn't felt in a long time ❣️.

This is my first time trying to draw in digital media, I hope you like what you see! 😘 (YouTube tutorials don't fail me now! 😭). I spent the whole summer practicing🥺.

P.S: Sorry if exist some error, the english is not my firts lenguage.

[bintiboutique81]

The Luxurious Lumiere Wrap Dress

Indulge in the timelessness of wrap dresses and embrace a style choice that transcends fleeting trends. In this blog post, we’ll delve into the charm and flexibility of the iconic silhouette and provide valuable styling suggestions for effortless day-to-night transitions.

Wear the lumiere wrap dress with comfortable flat sandals or sneakers to achieve a casual chic aesthetic. Add a woven tote bag and delicate jewelry to finish your look.

Aurore

Stylish maxi dress featuring a romantic wrap style, delicate lace trims and a soft and flowing silhouette. Pair with strappy heels or sandals and a mini bag for a glamorous look.

Lena, Aaron and Kevin are three American filmmakers who travel to rural Quebec to investigate the true story of 10-year-old Aurore Gagnon, a girl who died as a result of heinous child abuse in 1920. The film begins with their arrival, where they witness a series of bone-chilling paranormal events that lead them to try to communicate with the ghost of Aurore.

As if that weren’t enough, the three visitors stick their noses in places they don’t belong, leading to the town residents viewing them as cultural interlopers. This is particularly clear when they visit the local grocery store, where Kevin and Aaron behave in obnoxious fashion by gawking at every food item that they don’t recognize. Lena tries to keep them from making too much of a fuss, but it’s difficult. She’s a likeable character who’s not afraid to make her own mistakes.

Lana

If Lana Del Rey were a Spice Girl she’d be Literary Spice. Over her ten years in the public eye she’s made it pretty clear she’s a big reader – from Nabokov to Bukowski to Beat poetry and the clack of an 808 hi-hat. She’s a Sylvia Plath for the post-tumblr age, a nightgown-clad Walt Whitman of our times.

Her fourth album ’Lust for Life’ is notable in two ways compared to her previous work. For one thing, it’s her first album to feature collaborations – with the likes of The Weeknd, A$AP Rocky and Playboi Carti lending their voices.

Another thing is that this record seems to signal a new direction for her music. It’s less otherworldly than her previous works – more ourworldly, really – and as such it has a more introspective feel to it. Almost as though she’s at the end of an era, questioning her legacy and her relevance, but not without hope. Her most genuinely unguarded record yet. Stylish and timeless, this high-neck maxi dress is made from Oseree’s Lumiere fabric woven with fine metallic threads for a unique shimmer finish.

Charlotte

Charlotte is the older sister of Alison DiLaurentis and the biological cousin of Jason DiLaurentis. She is a very attractive young woman with blonde hair, blue eyes and an oval-shaped face. She is very feminine and wears lots of jewelry. She often styles her hair in bounced curls or waves. She is sassy and confident, and is not afraid to speak her mind.

She is a smart and cunning young girl who grew up at Radley Sanitarium. She was able to escape from Radley by lying and using her intelligence to get what she wanted. She also enjoyed causing chaos for the people around her, especially those closest to her.

She first met Aria Montgomery while under the alias of CeCe Drake, the former best friend of Alison. She was impressed by the way Aria was able to keep her secrets and use her power as a social climber. They became friends and a lot of things happened between them.

Serenity

In a month full of fumbled efforts based on perfectly serviceable ideas, Serenity stands out as a magnificently terrible movie. Its pleasures, like its off-kilter charm, its idiocy, and its brilliant casting, are hard to pin down, but they are there. It's the rare January movie that dares to be as bold and unrelentingly strange as it is, and its results are so wildly off-kilter and disorienting they make the whole enterprise worth seeing.

Matthew McConaughey stars as Baker Dill, a shirtless fishing boat captain obsessed with catching a huge fish that seems to be following him everywhere. The movie operates on a wavelength all its own, from its intense beginnings to its what-the-heck-was-that mid-film twist to its defiantly sentimental finale. Serenity is one of those movies that you see, then spend the rest of your life leaning back in a theater, staring at the ceiling. It's the kind of film that makes you want to hire a set of speakers so you can hear it better. And so you can tell your friends that you saw it first.

Ava

Once loaded with connotations of exoticism and movie-star glamor, Ava now ranks annually among America's most popular girls' names. Unfortunately, Tate Taylor's female-starring shoot 'em up bears this very same name and doesn't quite know how to shake the reputation off.

Jessica Chastain delivers her finest performance as a professional hit woman with an eerily familiar face and manner. Ava's backstory spouts out in convenient montage mode: a gifted student who went off the rails with booze and drugs; a rehab stint; and then a hazily defined black-ops recruitment under the caustic mentorship of Duke (John Malkovich).

Once we establish that Ava is your cliched indestructible contract killer, she starts to show signs of being just a little bit human by questioning why her target was marked for death - something all professional assassins must be curious about at one time or another. But as soon as the film reverts to formulaic action sequences, we're right back in the same old carapace. The climactic nightclub fight feels like it's going to break new ground but ends up merely rehashing genre conventions.

[all-or-nothing-baby]

living the dream

.

i'm roxy music. i'm eventide. i'm the coffee liqueurs that nobody likes. i'm that new book smell. i'm tinkerbell. i'm watching twilight when you were twelve. i'm oh captain! my captain! i'm true romance. i'm giving a dumb old bird a second chance. i'm the goose to your maverick. i'm humming church hymns. i'm your humming bird. i'm when the blackbird sings. i'm tyler durden. i'm a horror b-movie. i'm swapping food for smokes when you're back in juvie. i'm getting more freckles in the sun. i'm two fresh sticks of big red gum. i'm deep secrets. i'm somebody's type. i'm a white ford capri with black go-faster stripes. i'm fairies wearing boots. i'm sand dune grasses. i'm your high-school crush wearing reading glasses. i'm a handsome stranger smiling shyly at you. i'm this so called life. i'm lonely, too. i'm the chocolate chips in mint ice cream. i'm trouble. i'm the late 90s post-grunge scene. i'm wearing smudged two-day-old eyeliner. i'm the exception to the rule. i'm jörmungandr. i'm daddy kool. i'm lana del rey. i'm the moon and its stars. i'm mandalay. i'm making mix tapes. i'm butterflies. i'm the amazing devil. i'm galvanised. i'm charms on a bracelet. i'm slaughter house five. i'm tyler durden. i'm choosing life. i'm lions and tigers and bears, oh my! i'm never wanting to say goodbye. i'm learning only dirty words in french. i'm glitter. i'm soul. i'm ubërmensch. i'm gold leather chaps. i'm thunderclaps. i'm reading shakespeare in the laundromat. i'm seven deadly sins. i'm crushing on your dad. i'm sleeping with your mom. i'm leningrad. i'm a ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb. i'm tiny white lies. i'm my own date to prom. i'm all those sad songs you write at midnight. i'm faux fur. i'm tic-tacs. i'm candlelight. i'm tears of joy. i'm a lonesome cowboy. i'm sweet emotion in constant motion. i'm crying just for crying's sake. i'm slush. i'm ogdens' nut gone flake. i'm flying. i'm chancing. i'm ian curtis dancing. i'm doin' just fine. i'm walking the line. i'm beatles songs. i'm tourmaline...

oh baby, i'm my best damn daydream <3

.

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Iris (The Rat Pack)

Full name- Iris Evangeline Phan

Birthday- September 1st

Age (in novel)- 18

Place of Birth- Miami, Florida

Favorite color- Red

Favorite season- Summer

Favorite food- Spicy tuna rolls

Favorite ice cream flavor- Mint chocolate chip

Favorite dessert- Glazed donuts

Favorite sandwich- Grilled cheese

Favorite Vietnamese dish- Banh Chu’ng (sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves and stuffed with mung bean paste and lean pork).

Other info- She's Vietnamese-American & is fluent in Vietnamese. She can also curse in Spanish and Haitian Creole (thanks to Emilio & Roseline).

Iris is an only child. Her mom is a dermatologist while her father runs a successful dentistry practice. She has a pet bombay cat- a girl named Coppola (named after female director Sofia Coppola). She has traveled to Vietnam more than a few times with her parents to visit extended family!

When school starts in the fall, Iris will be attending NYU. Her & her parents found her a great starter apartment- just a few blocks away from the campus.

Her favorite book is Brave New World by Aldous Huxley.

Iris is a self-proclaimed cinephile! She has an extensive movie collection (containing over 1,000 DVDs!). It includes cult classics like The Breakfast Club, Disney animated films (like her favorite Fantasia), horror, science-fiction (like the original Blade Runner & Blade Runner 2049), drama, romance, & foreign films!

She has a YouTube channel (with over 300,000 subscribers) where she manily uploads movie reviews, vlogs, and some of her original short films.

Iris has a bucket list to attend the film-making capitals of the world- like Los Angeles, New York, Hong Kong, Paris, Mumbai, London, & Berlin.

She was the main photographer of ther school's yearbook. Iris was also voted "Best Hair" & "Most Likely to Direct an Oscar Winning Film."

Iris entered twice in the SFSSF (South Florida Student Film Festival). She didn't make the cut in the first year, but came in second place the next year with her 15 minute short film, Notes of Melancholia. It starred a few people from her school's drama club.

She also has a collection of antique cameras!

Iris works part-time as an junior assistant at a photography studio in Downtown Miami. She also has another job as a cashier at a frozen yogurt shop.

She had her first kiss with a boy named Grant when she was thirteen. Iris lost her virginity to Ross, captain of the school's soccer team- a guy she kinda had a crush on. It happened at an end of the year party at Chelsea Russo's house, a week before the prom.

Iris has recieved many gifts from her friends- including a garnet toe ring from Emilio, an antique music box from Hudson, a book (guide to screenwriting) & a DVD box set of The Sopranos from Owen, and a caricature portrait & a white gold necklace (with a camera charm) from Roseline.

She likes listening to Lana Del Rey, Kerli, Billie Eilish, J. Cole, Kid Cudi, Kendrick Lamar, & Lady Gaga.

[isbus]

Making Music Playlists for My Blogs!

Part 1: This Feeling’s Electric

A mix of battle, thotting, and exercise of the ass.

(For My Electrohammer Vanguard, Dave)

Track List (62 Songs)

Oh Ms Believer - Twenty One Pilots

The Wolf - SIAMÉS

Army of One - Coldplay

Your Song - Elton John

Fighter - Jack Stauber’s Micropop

I’m Like A Lawyer With The Way I’m Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You) - Fall Out Boy

PHONKY TOWN - PlayaPhonk

Death By Two Trucks - Toby Fox x Lemon Demon

Nightcall - Kavinsky

Hot Mess - Cobra Starship

Guilty Pleasure - Cobra Starship

The Wonder of You - Elvis Presley

Across The Universe - The Beatles

Tease 4 U - Laganja Estranja

Strut - Adam Lambert

For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert

Pop That Lock - Adam Lambert

Counting Sheep - SAFIA

Call Me - Blondie

These Boots Are Made For Walkin’ - Nancy Sinatra

Dripeesha - Todrick Hall

Chitonwalk.Temp - Graham Kartna

I Want You - Savage Garden

Waiting For Love - Avicii

Touch Me - Avicii

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Radio - Lana Del Rey

Rain Over Me - Pitbull ft. Marc Anthony

Let’s Go - Stuck In The Sound

Season 2 Episode 3 - Glass Animals

Helium - Glass Animals

When The Day Met The Night - Panic! At The Disco

iRobot - Jon Bellion

This Charming Man - The Smiths

Pillow Talk - Jeff Kaale

Honeypie - JAWNY

Boys - Lizzo

Good Time - Ocean Park Standoff

Colours - Grouplove (Captain Cuts Remix)

Pineapple Soda - Hi, I’m Chris

Blue Monday - New Order

Superhero - Simon Curtis

Beat Drop - Simon Curtis

8Bit Heart - Simon Curtis

Pit Of Vipers - Simon Curtis

Sad Machine - Porter Robinson

Snowman - Sia (Covered by Tullio)

Magic City - Gorillaz

Lil Red Riding Hood - Bowling For Soup

Babooshka - Kate Bush

Bubble Pop Electric - Gwen Stefani (Slowed)

Shut Me Up - Mindless Self Indulgence

Say So - Doja Cat

Bring On The Dancing Horses - Echo & The Bunnymen

Alone Time - LovelyTheBand

Gravity - Hollywood Undead

Ready Aim Fire - Imagine Dragons

Oblivion - Dirty Palm ft Micah Martin

Books Of War - DOOM & RZA

Good Day - Flash Garments

Song For Denise - Piano Fantasia (Maxi Version)

High - Sivik

[eeveedel]

Hi all, I haven’t recced some fics in awhile but...today is fic writers appreciation day! And there are so many fics that I love so very much and have brought so much happiness into my life. 

And it just so happens I have a personal document where i’ve kept track of fics I’ve read for the past 3-4 years, categorized by tropes. So I thought it would be fun to rec you my all-time favorite fic from each of my personal categories! There are so many good fics so I hope you enjoy. And if you want a full fic rec list for any of these categories, please tell me! 

And a big thank you again to all of the lovely authors out there, I hope you have a lovely day and now how valued your work is. 

A/B/O

Sisterwives by jaerie

This was it, the moment Louis had been waiting for his entire life. Giddy excitement bubbled up as he held hands and stared up at his soon-to-be alpha and husband and grinned. The ceremony was small and simple, but Louis didn’t mind. Fresh flowers pinned into his hair and a brand new outfit was all he needed to feel special in front of their few witnesses. It was just some members of his family and a few of the church elders in attendance as was customary for any marriage beyond the first wife within the faith.

First wives were the ones to have elaborate weddings with the whole community involved. An alpha’s first wedding was a celebration of an their coming of age, his first steps into fulfilling God’s prophecy. There were many glories for an omega that came with being a first wife but also many responsibilities. Louis had never aspired to be a first wife or even a second. He wasn’t experienced enough to be the leader of an alpha’s many wives and children and he didn’t think he’d be up to the task.

Louis was just fine in the position he was stepping into as the seventh.

Or Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.

Action/Adventure 

The Dead of July by whimsicule

Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Age Gap

White Pages, White Lace, Big Hands, Pretty Face by thechesirepussycat

“He touches his sides, his neck, his lips, all the places Harry has just been, all the places that still tingle from Harry’s touch. Such a strange feeling Louis has, so unreal and nerve-racking. He can’t begin to describe what Harry has done to him, what about Harry makes Louis want to call him… Daddy.“

Or, a gratuitous Sugar Daddy!Harry and Student!Louis AU.

Angst

Bot by tomlinsunshine (11k)

Zayn builds robots; Harry is a big fan of his latest model.

Break Up

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

Canon

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.

or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Classics

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

College/Uni 

Could be Kissing My Fruit Punch Lips by thechesirepussycat

Harry happens upon a porn site that specializes in live videos and sort of falls in love with the cute boy he only knows as Kitty.

And then he gets the surprise of his life when he finds out Kitty attends his university...

Crime

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by haroldslouis 

1997 AU where Harry is a bank robber and Louis falls in love with him

Dom/Sub

No Control Club series by SadaVeniren

Harry, a popular BDSM blogger, writes a negative review about Louis’ club. Louis wants to have a chance to make it up to him.

Dunkirk/Alex

Poison & Wine by tilthesundies

Alex comes home from the war to find a stranger living in his flat.

Dystopian/Apocalypse

things have gotten closer to the sun by starseas

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

Enemies to Lovers

you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity 

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry"

Established Relationship

I Only Ever Want You by itsmiz

Louis and Harry's relationship goes through a series of changes while Liam and Zayn discover new things about themselves, as well.

Or: Louis & Harry and Liam & Zayn begin to have sex in front of each other and a lot of kink-discovery results from that.

Fairy Tale

Red by frosteddream 

Shockwaves were sent through the village after the McPherson family was savagely killed. There were people who feared the beast that did it, and then there was Louis, or, as most people liked to call him, Red. (Little Red Riding Hood AU.)

Fake Dating 

And Then a Bit by infinitelymint

Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.

Famous (non-1D AU)

a million roses (bathed in rock n roll) by deLILah 

au. harry sings in smoky dive bars; louis misses his flight home. they go to coney island in the morning.

(aka - harry is lana del rey, and louis makes him a star.)

Fashion

Just my style by thoughtsickles

Harry is sick, and the only thing that might help him is the pheromones from his mate--problem is, he hasn't got a mate.

Louis' just been disowned, and taking part in a medical study where he has to cuddle with some strange alpha seems to be his only option for earning a bit of cash.

The hippies and Omega Rights campaigners are busy changing the world--but all Harry wants is a chance to live.

Fluff

Dreaming of You by velvetoscar

The Begrudging Starbucks AU.

The world is winter and steamed milk and creamy espresso shots. The world is a never ending queue. The world is a Starbucks logo and a pink-cheeked smile from Niall and a bored scowl from Zayn and the world is Louis watching his best mate, Liam, fall in love with their newest customer, Harry. Who may or may not be in love with Louis. The world is cruel.

Frat

Soft Feet, Fast Hands, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante

American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

Friends to Lovers

OmegaVision by jaerie 

Tomlin Networks Presents: OmegaVision starring Louis Tomlinson! The world's first 24/7 reality channel available in over 150 countries worldwide following the life of the first male omega born in over a century. Follow Louis through his daily routine, the ups and downs of growing up or just leave him on for comfort. There are many reasons to tune in but, no matter what yours may be, there's always a part of Louis that is just like you!

Or a Truman Show au that nobody asked for where Louis is Truman and Harry just wants to be his mate

Girl Direction

Never Enough by idekboo

Louis couldn't get enough of Harry and that gorgeous body of hers. She wasn't shy about letting her know.

High School

I found a love (darling just dive right in) by wonderlou

Louis, an omega with very little control. Harry, an alpha with a lot of emotion. Neither of them have any idea what do to with this little thing called love, but they'll be damned if they don't put up a good fight.

Historical

Coax the Cold by MediaWhore 

England, 1897.

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

Miscellaneous/Unique

the impossible now by stylinsoncity

A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

Mpreg

The Things I’d Do to Wake Up Next to You by dirtymattress (36k)

Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

Mythology

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight by alivingfire

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

PWP

mr. tomlinson by iwillpaintasongforlou

Louis is a billionaire CEO who makes grown men cry and rival companies crumble. He's also an omega. Harry is the quiet cupcake of a man he calls his alpha and the only one who gets to see Louis as anything less than fearsome.

Roommates

streetwise hercules by bottomlinsons

Uni AU, where Louis pretends to be Harry's boyfriend to scare away his one night stands.

Royalty

feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright 

Harry is a journalist with a lot of secrets and Louis is the future king of the United Kingdom; they live together for 60 days.

Spies

never gonna dance again by togetherwecouldbealright

Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

Soulmates

Nameless Night by green_feelings

For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you'll meet your soulmate.

Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they're not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn't receive the same date.

Or, a fic about differences that make no difference at all: Harry and Louis are soulmates. In every way possible. Featuring Niall as a role model, and Liam and Zayn as a different kind of role models.

Summer Romance

Rivers til I Reach You by embodied

AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

Supernatural

Howls Like a Beast (You Flower, You Feast) by indiaalaphawhiskey (16k)

France, 1754. Château de Versailles.

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

[iamtryingtobelieve]

Fifty Questions Tag

I was tagged by @murobrown​ (Thank you very much Alica for tagging me)

I’m a bit stumped for time at the moment so I won’t currently tag anyone just yet but if I remember to, I will edit this later and add a few people to it

1: What are you wearing? Pulp fiction t-shirt and I don’t know the name for them but there like “sporty” pants if you know what I mean?

2: Ever been in love? Not really. I thought I was at one point but now looking back I have my doubts

3: Ever had a terrible breakup? Nup

4: How tall are you? I am about average height. I know people smaller/taller than me. Don’t know specifics

5: How much do you weigh? I know it’s 16 stone something

6: Any tattoos do you want? I am not certain but I’ve always wanted a tattoo related to NIN. Maybe the Year Zero gun cross logo?

7: Any piercings that you want? Not a piercing person

8: OTP? We still using shipping talk in 2020? 

9: Favorite show? Tales From The Crypy

10: Favorite band? Nine Inch Nails

11: Something you miss? School years, I wish I took more photos/videos

12: Favorite song? In This Twilight - Nine Inch Nails

13: How old are you? 21  going on 22 in a few more weeks

14: Zodiac sign? Libra

15: Hair color? Brown

16: Favorite quote? “It can’t rain all the time” - The Crow

17: Favorite singer? Lana Del Rey by far. Something about her voice just sends chills

18: Favorite color? Yellow

19: Loud music or soft? I like energetic stuff but I don’t mind the odd softy now and then

20: Where do you go when you’re sad? I wouldn’t know to be honest. Maybe the cinema. That helped a lot with a bunch of the shit I put up with last year

21: How long does it take you to shower? No shower. Baths for me. Depends if I have free time, I can stay in the bath fairly longer if I have no prior engagements or anything or if I’m listening to a podcast/album. But i’d say averagely maybe 15/20 mins?

22: How long does it take you to get ready in the morning? Again depends on if I have any prior engagements (work.etc) usually about 5/10 minutes or I can just laze about

23: Ever been in a physical fight? Not that I remember but I did feel threatened by a kid in nursery for some reason so I pre-emptive hit him with a copy of this:

Not my proudest moment but a vivid memory for some reason.

24: Turn on? Just genuine down to earth attitude, easy to get along with and like similar things. But if we’re talking looks, blue eyes, pale skin and red hair (natural/dyed/whatever) is heavenly. 

25: Turn off? Just being a prick really or causing trouble for no reason

26: The reason I joined Tumblr? Get close with friends at my school, ended up outlasting a lot of them on here nearly 10 years later. Funny how that works

27: Fears? The future really freaks me out. Also the dread of drifting apart from close friends too. 

28: Last thing that made you cry? I’m not really a crier besides from laughing too hard so I don’t really know

29: Last time you cried? God knows?

30: Meaning behind your url? It’s a NIN song and less cringy than my previous ones

31: Last book you read? I’d like to say it was The Last Book on The Left by The Last Podcast on the Left. But truthfully I’m re-reading my old childhood favourites, the Captain Underpants books.

32: Last song you listened to? That new Miley Cyrus song was on the car radio when I was coming home earlier so I guess that counts?

33: Last show you watched? The Boys

34: Last person you talked to? My dad

35: The relationship between you and the person you last texted? My best friend for over 15 years. I went to his little sisters’ leaving celebration as she is going to university. Things sorta gotta a bit weird as his sister’s friend kept coming on to him and lo and behold, they ended up together somehow.

36: Favorite food? I really like Tacos

37: Place you want to visit? America. Id love to do a proper road trip one day with friends

38: Last place you were? I visited my auntie and uncle who live nearby

39: Do you have a crush? Not really

40: Last time you kissed someone? 

41: Last time you were insulted and what was it? I don’t really know or I’ve at least blocked it out? 

42: What color underwear are you wearing? Orange

43: What color shirt are you wearing? Black, red, yellow, flesh coloured (Uma Thurman’s on the front so I guess flesh coloured is the right word)

44: What color bottoms are you wearing? Black

45: Wearing any bracelets? I was gifted a fit bit so I’m wearing that but I ain’t no fitness person

46: Last sport you played? What is sport? 

47: Last song you sang? Semi Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind

48: Last prank call you remember doing? Don’t think I ever have?

49: Last time you hung out with anyone? As mentioned previously, my best friend's family

50: Favorite movie? Natural Born Killers

[pisces-mars]

a study in cancer

being the fourth sign in the zodiac cancer is a water sign, making them very emotional, intuitive and compassionate. cancer is represented by a crab and is ruled by the moon. cancers are very good at ‘getting people’.

cancers are often depicted as overly emotional and getting upset at the drop of a hat. i’ve found this to be true, however there is more to cancer than meets the eye. as they are ruled by the moon, cancerians are very loyal, really great at keeping secrets, kind and caring. though they can be a lot for some whos less in touch with their emotions. cancerians are represented by the crab, this means that they can bite of provoked, but will usually just do what they gotta do, maybe provide for their crab fam, and hid in their sand (comfort zone).

common cancer traits:

intuitive

loyal

enigmatic (!!!)

nostalgic

charming

emotional

ambititous

nourishing

resilient

emotionally intelligent

famous cancerians

princess diana, ariana grande, selena gomez, lindsay lohan, will ferrell, vin diesel, kristen bell, lana del rey, kevin hart, khloé kardashian, benedict cumberbatch, chris pratt melissa raunch, malia obama, tom hanks, ernest hemmingway and elon musk (technically captain america is also a cancer,,,)

quick facts

dates: june 21st - july 21st

element: water

ruling planet: the moon

zodiac symbol: the crab (snip snip)

spirit colour: violet

flowers: orchid and the white rose

polarity: negative

quality: cardinal

birthstones: emerald, moonstone, pearl, ruby, sapphire

hogwarts house?

a hufflepuff, no doubt in my mind.

most compatible signs?

again the water fam; pisces and scorpio, also very compatable with tauruians and virgos though (note: they can be very incompatible with libras)

[memescomicswriting]

Brooklyn Baby

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Clint x Reader

Warnings: Age gap, lots of potty language, and implied sexy times

Summary: Your boyfriend is in a classic band. You work at a hot club in The City. Is your love enough to overcome his securities?

Masterlist

A/N: Clint’s in his early forties here. I don’t pay attention to cannon age Based off “Brooklyn Baby” by Lana Del Rey

--

The night was old but the bar ragged on. You didn't mind working as a bartender. The place was named SHEILD, after some old inside joke, and it was a nice club. You made good money from your boss, Tony. He was a generous man and insisted on paying the girls more for all the shit you had to put up with from drunk men. With tips from the high traffic flow of rich idiots and eager tourists, you lived comfortably. Some regulars were being taken care of by Wanda down at the other end of the bar. Regulars were people Tony deemed 'not the biggest asshole' that frequented enough to hold a VIP card. That left you with the drifters on the opposite side. This wasn't the only bar in the place and it wasn't the most central bar either. Your bar was on the open, inward-facing loft that looked over the stage and dance floor. Due to the acoustics, the music was awesome up there but not too loud because the speakers sat below you.

At first, your customers were genuine fans of music, but soon they shuffled out and the 'biggest asshole' type sauntered in. They didn't bother you much. They were too busy trying to impress their dates or the people they picked up bellow. When their guests became less enthusiastic they began to grumble about how they should've gone to club Hydra. You almost told them to go there, but you didn't think it was worth the confrontation.

Tony originally bought the club to relive the glory days of his band, the Avengers. It was comprised of his friends: Steve, the Captain; Natasha, Black Widow; Thor, Point Break; Bruce, Hulk; and Clint, Hawkeye. Tony, or Iron Man as he liked to be called, took it upon himself to give some of the staff and club friends nicknames too. Wanda was the Scarlett Witch for her red lipstick and wit. Her brother Pietro was named QuickSilver for his silver hair and his ability to move around the club quickly. You were girlfriend, but the name had no inappropriate connotation. It had everything to do with who you started dating after you began to work there. The Avengers played earlier in the night. Now the DJ controlled the stage and created mixes of their top hits. The place was decorated commemorating the band. The music was a little before your time, but your older siblings often blared the radios in their rooms with Avenger music. You knew most of the songs by heart at this point. Like your siblings' rooms, commemorative posters were all over. Each bar was themed with a band member. Tony's was the largest, central bar- go figure. Yours, in the loft above, was for Hawkeye. You didn't mind that at all. Your boyfriend was the lead guitarist in his band. You often found yourself singing along while he played at home. Usually, it was whoever inspired him. You liked it when he played Lou Reed. He liked to play things from the seventies because he was a seventies baby even if it were '79. A lot of his friends, outside his band, didn't understand what he got from being with you. Someone your age couldn't understand the time he came from or his taste in music. He was a free spirit and you tied him down by simply existing. You'd zoned out in thought of your boyfriend. God, was he so cool and attractive, and oh how you loved him. The growing calls brought you back to the present. "Yo, bar babe!" A thick and sweaty hand waved in front of you. You quickly repressed the disgust on your face. "Yes?" You asked in the nicest tone you could muster, which was decent. "Thanks for sparring some attention to your customers." The guy snickered. He was tall enough, built enough. His face a bit intimidating; enough to the point you decided lunging across the bar at him wasn't the best idea. "Another round of Bud Light pitchers." They already reeked of alcohol but they weren't exhibiting signs of needing to be cut off. "Sure." You quickly went on to get their order just to be away from them. When you came back with the fresh pitchers the guests with them turned up their noses at the drink. You couldn't blame them. Light beer was gross, to begin with, and mass quantities of Bud Light were the cheapest way to get drunk at a bar like yours. As the group of men called it, 'the pieces of ass' walked off, no longer wanting anything to do with them. It was a mix of pretty young girls and guys. They could do better anyway. Soon, they all began arguing about who was to blame for their guests leaving. The one who asked for the pitchers quickly became the center of the argument. Another member of the group, younger and somehow more greasy looking, sauntered up to you. "Yo Rumlow, get back here!" He was called back to the table but refused to return. "Hell nah, not with you hens clucking. I'm not wasting my time on your squawking, I'm going home with someone tonight." With that, he turned to you with the slimiest smile. 'Oh fuck no!.' Was all you thought while your eyes rolled. "Awe, now don't be like that baby." He crooned. "No." You replied shortly. He leaned over the bar. "Come on, I could treat you real good baby." You snorted at how dumb he sounded. "No." He didn't like that. His tone began to slip from icky charm to agitation. "What, you got a boyfriend? You're not a baby, you're a taken bi-" The call of your name interrupted your fist from flying into the guy's face. "Y/N!" It was the cheerful voice you never tired of hearing. Clint briskly walked up to the counter and leaned over for a quick peck. "Tony said he'd have Happy rope off the bar for the night so you could head home early." The Rumlow guy erupted in a vicious chuckle. "You gotta be kidding me baby. You're too young and cool for this washed-up loser. Do yourself a favor and leave with me." You saw Clint's jaw grind while the rest of his body stiffened. The nearly twenty-year age gap was a sore spot for him. No matter how many times you reassured him, told him you loved him age gap and all, he still felt insecure about it. Something in the back of his mind crept upon him from time to time, telling him he was too old to keep you happy. He feared you'd leave him one day. The New Yorker in you, specifically the Brooklyn in you, began rising from the depths of your personality. "Oh fuck off you mother fucking loser, My boyfriend is cooler than you'll ever fucking be. Get out of my bar you piece of shit." The man slammed his hands down on the bar but you didn't flinch a muscle. You were wound that tight. "The fuck did you just say to me you bitch." You slowed your words and annunciated for the dumbass. "Get out of my bar, you mother fucking asshole before I knock your ass on the ground." "Oh, your gonna pay for that you little slu-" Before he could finish his insult his ass was knocked on the ground, but not by you. Clint was hovering over him delivering punch after punch. Soon, the guy's goons were rushing over to get their boy. Clint was immersed in a mosh pit of jerkoffs, but it didn't phase him a bit. Despite their efforts to restrain him long enough to get a punch in, Clint was shrugging them off and delivering more grounding blows. When the original douche was up again and itching for a hit, Clint used the guy's own momentum to throw him behind and straight to securities feet. Coulson, and the rest of the bouncers he brought made quick work of collecting the rest of the goon squad. Soon they disappeared down the steps towards the entrance. They'd probably pass hands from club security to the usual cops stationed outside. Clint was a heaving, disheveled, and sweat smeared mess. And god was it hot! When he finally dragged his stare off the vanishing morons and onto you, his body started to relax. He looked down at himself and huffed out a sigh. "I'm sorry babe, but when I heard that name slip from his mouth with him leering at you like that, I saw red." You let out a good giggle. He was confused at first but accepted it when you hopped on the bar counter with a clean cloth to wipe down his body. "Don't apologize. That was fucking hot!" You poked his chest with seriousness. "Only thing that bothers me is that I didn't get to hit 'em." Clint's head tipped back as he roared with laughter. "You would be upset about that." He allowed you to continue cleaning him up until you were nearly done. He grabbed your wrists and held them to his chest. "But in all seriousness, you don't mind your senior boyfriend punching a jerk's lights out for yah?" His head cocked to the side as he studied your face for any hint of disgust. "Mind?" You scoffed. With his hands still on yours, you directed him to grasp your hips. "I'm turned on!" Before you could say more, Clint was between your legs and you were firmly ground into the counter. Your lips were locked in a searing kiss. Clint put a lot of pressure into this one. Teeth clashed and your lips swelled. His tongue slipped through your gasps to dominate every inch of your mouth. You had no air so when he pulled away you were gasping. You hiccuped as you tried to speak. From the grin plastered ear to ear, he enjoyed that. "And you're not a senior. You're barely forty and for barely forty I want to jump your bones every second of the day. So invest in some arthritis medicine for when you are old." Clint lifted you off the bar and plopped you on the ground, still pressed against him. "So I'm cool, huh?" You swatted his arm playfully. "Really?! That's what you took away from this?" "That, and you're horny." He nodded, being a little shit with his fake, nonchalant attitude. "Mhm..." You rolled your eyes with no subtlety. Then you pushed him off so you could get your purse from behind the bar. As you leaned over the wooden counter, you made sure your ass was in full show for your boyfriend. If Tony was letting you leave early then Wanda would be left to do your side of the bar; which was a mess thanks to those assholes. You left most of your tips for her as a thank you. "You're not as cool as me." You shouted to Clint, who was following behind you, still fixated on your rear. A satisfied smirk formed on your lips. "Damn straight!" He cheered. "Now let's go home so you can show me how cool you think I am. My Brooklyn Baby." Clint squeezed your sides which caused you to squeak. Again, you playfully hit him like you were annoyed. It was damn well clear that you were anything but annoyed with him. You were frustrated but in the best way. He was gonna get it when you got home or any place private enough.

[thran-duils]

2018 lists + 2019 excitement

I made up the list of all the books I read in 2018 (it was only 39 *sobs* that is the lowest in 8 years, i usually read at least 50) and my top 2018 songs. plus the movies i’m looking forward to in 2019.

The Wrath and the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh  ★☆☆☆☆

The Gilded Rage: A Wild Ride Through Donald Trump’s America by Alexander Zaitchik ★★★★☆

How Do I Explain This to My Kids? edited by Ava L. Siegler ★★★★☆

Grief is a Thing with Feathers by Max Porter ★★☆☆☆

Girls Made of Snow and Glass by Melissa Bashardoust ★★★☆☆

Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children #1) by Seanan McGuire ★★★☆☆

I Can Barely Take Care of Myself by Jen Kirkman ★★★★☆

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan ★☆☆☆☆

Down Among the Sticks and Bones (Wayward Children #2) by Seanan McGuire ★★★★★

Beasts Made of Night (Beasts Made of Night #1) by Tochi Onyebuchi ★★★☆☆

Wintersong (Wintersong #1) by S. Jae-Jones ★★★★☆

Wicked Like Wildfire (Hibiscus Daughter #1) by Lana Popovic ★★★☆☆

Women and Power: A Manifesto by Mary Beard ★★★★☆

God: A Human History by Reza Aslan ★★★★☆

Gem and Dixie by Sara Zarr ★★★★☆

Truly Devious (Truly Devious #1) by Maureen Johnson ★★★★☆

Beneath the Sugar Sky (Wayward Children #3) by Seanan McGuire ★★★★☆

The Hazel Wood (The Hazel Wood #1) by Melissa Albert ★★★☆☆

The Wicked Deep by Shea Ernshaw ★★★★☆

The Astonishing Color of After by Emily X.R. Pan ★★★☆☆

The Belles (The Belles #1) by Dhonielle Clayton ★★☆☆☆

Shadowsong (Wintersong #1) by S. Jae-Jones ★★☆☆☆

Everless (Everless #1) by Sara Holland ★★★★☆

By Charm and a Curse by Jaime Questell ★☆☆☆☆

Heart Berries: A Memoir by Terese Marie Mailhot ★★★★☆

The Price Guide to the Occult by Leslye Walton ★★★★☆

Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi ★★★★☆

Sometimes I Lie by Alice Feeney ★★★★☆

Love, Hate, and Other Filters by Samira Ahmed ★★★★☆

The Broken Girls by Simone St. James ★★★★☆

Everything Here Is Beautiful by Mira T. Lee ★★★★☆

Some Kind of Happiness by Claire Legrand ★★★★★

Sweet Black Waves (Sweet Black Waves #1) by Kristina Perez ★★★★☆

Roses of May (Collector #2) by Dot Hutchison ★★★☆☆

Children of Blood and Bone (Legacy of Orisha #1) by Tomi Adeyemi ★★★☆☆

Homeplace: A Southern Town, a Country Legend, and the Last Days of Mountaintop Honky-Tonk by John Lingan ★☆☆☆���

The Bear and the Nightingale (Winternight Trilogy #1) by Katherine Arden ★★★★☆

There, There by Tommy Orange ★★★☆☆

Persepolis 2: The Story of a Return by Marjane Satrapi ★★★★☆

Top 5 Favorite Books of 2018

Down Among the Sticks and Bones by Seanan McGuire

Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi

God: A Human History by Reza Aslan

Everything Here is Beautiful by Mira T. Lee

Some Kind of Happiness by Claire Legrand

Top 20 songs of 2018

1. Faith -- Ghost 2. Grace -- Florence and the Machine 3. Fire Drills -- Dessa 4. Zombie -- Bad Wolves 5. Not Alike -- Eminem feat. Royce da 59 6. Disease -- Beartooth 7. Without Me -- Halsey 8. Made an America -- The Fever 333 9. Right to Be -- Turnstile 10. Heaven’s Got a Back Door -- Dead Sara 11. Bodak Yellow -- Cardi B 12. Count Bassy -- Dance Gavin Dance 13. Who Are You? -- SVRCINA 14. All the Stars -- Kendrick Lamar feat. SZA 15. Miracle -- CHVRCHES 16. Little Dark Age -- MGMT 17. Youngblood -- 5 Seconds of Summer 18. God Save Our Young Blood -- Borns feat. Lana Del Rey 19. I’ll Still Have Me -- CYN 20. Sicko Mode -- Travis Scott

Top 10 movies I’m looking forward to in 2019

1. Us 2. Artemis Fowl 3. IT: Chapter 2 4. Pet Semetary 5. The Lion King 6.  Captain Marvel 7. Star Wars: Episode 9 8. Frozen 2 9.  In the Tall Grass  10.  Aladdin

[maddie-grove]

Bi-Monthly Reading Round-Up: July/August

Playlist

“Mama Tried” by Merle Haggard (The Mars Room)

“Summer of Sam” by Lana del Rey (Sharp Objects)

“Keep Searchin’” by Del Shannon (Those Girls)

“No One Knows” by Dion and the Belmonts (Fortune’s Lady)

“Unpretty” by TLC (90s Bitch)

“Everybody’s Got the Right to Love” by the Supremes (Fool Me Twice)

“Loving Arms” by the Dixie Chicks (East)

“Spare Parts” by Bruce Springsteen (Joe College)

“You Said You Loved Me” from Bloody Blackbeard (Tomorrow and Forever)

“Hot in Herre” by Nelly (Miss Wonderful)

“Growin’ Up” by David Bowie (The Charm School)

“Somebody That I Used to Know” by Gotye (The Beggar Maid)

“Henry Lee” by Georgia Fireflies (Fairest)

Best of the Bi-Month

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn (2006): Troubled journalist Camille Preaker returns to her claustrophobic Missouri hometown to report on the brutal murders of two teenage girls. The gruesome nature of her assignment is only matched by the cruelty and senselessness that fills her childhood home. Flynn marries a beautifully constructed plot with a wealth of distressingly vivid details, and the result is unforgettable. It’s like if V.C. Andrews had cared about being a more conventionally “good” writer. (No disrespect meant to V.C. Andrews, who didn’t really need to be any better, but she very much did her own thing re: plot and style.) Also, I love Camille a lot.

Worst of the Bi-Month

Fairest by Marissa Meyer (2015): In this prequel to The Lunar Chronicles, Princess Levana leads a luxurious existence on the moon colony ruled by her family, but lives in fear of her sadistic sister and believes she can never be loved because of the terrible scars hidden beneath her glamor. Her desperation for affection and validation eventually turns her into the Evil Moon Queen of the series proper, or something like that. Levana is probably meant to be a lonely, misguided girl who slowly descends into evil due to a barrage of disappointments, or else a conscienceless rapist (yes, rapist) whose suffering renders her somewhat pitiable. I honestly can’t tell, but the result is incoherent, to say the least. 

Rest of the Bi-Month

The Charm School by Susan Wiggs (1999): In 1850s Boston, painfully awkward spinster Isadora Peabody decides to leave her stifling, shallow family and work as a navigator/translator on a clipper ship, much to the frustration (at first!) of its raucous captain. This is a rollicking  romance with a nice Old Hollywood feel, partly because it owes a lot to Now, Voyager. Isadora’s character development is engaging, and there’s some interesting social commentary about the damaging effects of being forced to perform femininity.

The Beggar Maid by Alice Munro (1977): In this collection of short stories, Rose grows up poor and unshielded from the sordid realities of her mid-century Canadian town. Education and marriage change her life almost beyond recognition, and then she changes it again of her own volition. Munro’s descriptions are so perfect that I barely ever had to make an effort to imagine what anything looked like, and her observations about people are uncomfortably accurate. The stories become a little too sedate in the last quarter of the collection, though.

Joe College by Tom Perrotta (2000): Working-class Yale student Danny, equally at sea with his carelessly rich classmates and hostile townie coworkers, runs into even more trouble during a spring break spent driving his father’s lunch truck. Although the story takes a while to get started, it features several terrific setpieces (notably a dinner hosted by a classmate’s personally charming, politically heartless father) and has a thought-provoking ending.

Fortune’s Lady by Patricia Gaffney (1989): In 1790s England, Cass Merlin’s father is hanged as a Jacobin traitor, leaving her disgraced and practically alone in the world. Recruited/blackmailed into acting as a honeypot for a suspected Jacobin ringleader, she doesn’t expect to fall for Philip Riordan, her fellow spy, but you know how these things go. This is probably my favorite of all the Old School romances I’ve read. It has a fun if overly lurid plot inspired by Notorious, a compelling if occasionally idiot-ball-carrying heroine, and a hero who is only occasionally terrible. On the other hand, the villain is a bisexual who hates Edmund Burke, which (a) is kind of offensive and (b) makes it really hard for me, a bisexual who hates Edmund Burke, to hate him.

The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner (2018): Romy, a single mother and stripper from San Francisco, ends up serving two consecutive life sentences in maximum security prison after killing her stalker. This novel pissed me the fuck off, not because it’s bad, but because it showcases the blatant unfairness of the justice system for indigent defendants and the proudly heartless attitude that many people have towards prisoners. Kushner has a terrific style and makes lots of references to 1960s country music, which I appreciate, but she loses steam about two-thirds into the book.

90s Bitch by Allison Yarrow (2018): Pushing back against the wave of nineties nostalgia, Yarrow details the sexism rampant in the decade’s politics and media, covering topics like the Clarence Thomas sexual harassment controversy, the downfall of Tonya Harding, Dan Quayle’s war on Murphy Brown, and the watered-down feminism of the Spice Girls. Yarrow’s account is entertaining as the subject matter is infuriating, but I wish she’d spent more time establishing how the eighties were any less sexist, because that doesn’t sound quite right.

East by Edith Pattou (2003): Ebba-Rose grows up happy with her large family on their early modern Norwegian farm, until poverty, illness, and the exposure of a big lie threaten to end it all. Then a polar bear shows up at the door and offers to fix everything in return for Rose coming to live with him--an offer that Rose feels compelled to take not just out of desperation, but out of wanderlust. I’m not that familiar with “East of the Sun, West of the Moon,” but this seems to be a fairly straightforward retelling. It’s charming, though, and it really picks up after the candle incident.

Miss Wonderful by Loretta Chase (2004): Threatened with financial consequences if he doesn’t marry an heiress within a year, Napoleonic war veteran Alistair Carsington says “fuck that” and goes into the canal-building business with a friend in order to come up with the necessary cash. However, going into the canal business brings him into contact with the bewitching Mirabel Oldridge, who fucking hates the idea of a canal running through her village. This Regency romance turned out to be a lot sadder than I thought it would be--the hero and heroine spend just as much time dealing with PTSD and grief for a parent, respectively, as they do bantering--and it was a richer story for all of that. The start was pretty slow, though, and I could’ve done without the disdain for the lower class.

Fool Me Twice by Meredith Duran (2014): Desperate for safety, Olivia Holladay cons her way into a housekeeping position at the Duke of Marwick’s house, hoping to find letters that will keep her murderous stalker off her back forever. Then she becomes way too invested in the welfare of the duke, who has become agoraphobic and borderline feral after his wife’s sudden death. This Victorian romance had an even slower start than Miss Wonderful, and I never got a coherent sense of the heroine’s personality; she’s a combination of prim goody-goody and wily con artist, and those two sides never really gel. I did like the conclusion, and Duran’s style is excellent as ever.

Tomorrow and Forever by Maud B. Johnson (1980): Tricked into boarding a bride ship and brutalized by Blackbeard’s pirates, New England girl Marley Lancaster finally finds love with Captain Bates Hagen after they’re set adrift in a dinghy together. They start a new life in Bath, North Carolina, but can it survive the fact that Bates is kind of a dirtbag? I rather enjoyed this Old School romance, partly because of the unusual setting and partly because I just liked the heroine. She’s kind of weak-willed and not very good at solving problems, but she struggles through life anyway and I really rooted for her. Bates, for his part, is...not a rapist. He’s actually the least rapey man in the story, which is how it should be, right? Still, he’s a dirtbag who ditches his common-law wife in a hostile colonial town and seems affronted when she doesn’t stay put. Plus I feel like only half the rapes in the story were narratively necessary.

Those Girls by Chevy Stevens (2015): Three sisters flee their rural Canadian home after the youngest kills their abusive father, only to face more horrible violence from men. Years later, after they’ve started a new life in Vancouver, the past reemerges and, you guessed it, there is more horrible violence. I finished this book and asked myself, “Is a woman made to suffer?” Like, I obviously read a lot about women suffering (see: most of this list), but this whole story is just women suffering, briefly trying to get revenge, and suffering more because of the revenge. 

[humancupid444]

Tuesday, January 4th, 2022

12:01 It’s officially the fourth day of 2022. I have tears in my eyes. It’s a good sign. I feel excited. I inspired somebody else on #tumblr to have a similar writing style. This makes me feel confident in my communication skills. I haven’t written for the past 3 days because I haven’t opened my laptop. I have been traveling. I am grateful to love writing. It is my favorite #hobby. I am also grateful for #hashtags lol. I love how calm everyone is this time of year. Lana Del Rey reminds me why I love 7/11 so much. I protect myself from anyone casting unethical spells. I protect myself from unethical vibes. I am ethical. I attract ethical vibes.

10:27am

Good Morning, PenPal. I talked on the phone with my friend. I decided I wanted to get bangs today. Right now I am eating Captain Crunch. This is one of my favorite cereals. I like the taste of the berries. I want to make an egg and put it on a tortilla with melted cheese. I am aware of how addicted to my phone I have been lately. I believe I am worthy of the best. I am being directed to the vibrations of love, joy, success, abundance, and art.

I love lana del rey lol.

9:51PM.

Listening to Lana Del Rey

Life as a dope girl. It’s deadly. My dreams enlighten me.-WithoutYou

I have been snapchatting this one guy. We were good friends a couple years ago. We spent time in his garage. We spent the New Years of 2021 together. He was good company to have around. He’s respectful and smart. He was charming and attractive. I want to visit him. He lives in colorado. I made a mistake once. When I first moved out I was supposed to visit him. But I said I didn’t want to speak to him anymore. I was in this position where I felt too free. I was scared of my past. I wanted a fresh start so I blew him off. I believe he’s forgiven me. I would like to talk to him about our feelings for one another. I can’t tell if he is a player. I don’t know much about his life today. I don’t know what his friends are like. What he likes about women. What he likes about me.

I remember when we first met I had genuine feelings. I was excited around him. I pushed him away. I don’t think he resents me. He still speaks to me every day. It’s been maybe 4 days since we started talking again.

I planned a holiday with my friend. We are going to a German town. We must pass through mountains and snow to get there. We are staying in a hotel for a night. It cost $155. I am excited. I love this friend. She is so fun to be around.

Today the car company picked up my car. It should arrive the day I arrive by plane.

I feel happy again. I feel I can love.I don’t feel stupid. I don’t feel stupid for crying. I feel safe again. I feel open arms that want me.

I was in the wrong for a long time. How was that fun?

How am I free now?

How am I not as scared? I want to build myself again. I never want to be in that position. So alone. Jealous and alone. Wrong and silent. Punished by everyone for being myself. For not being myself. For being alive. I was punished for being alive. It’s over. It’s all over. I will find my favorite person. I will live happy in glory. I will live in victory. Rein in success and abundance. I will create my own path. I will document my path with words and photos. I love my path. My path and I are inseparable. The sound is like a guitar strum.

11:04pm

Requiring nothing brings you everything