#going to find a hot therapist so we can talk about it while she rails me against her desk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilsocksiswriting · 3 years

Text

Osamu(s)

Fandom: Haikyuu

Paring: Osamu X fem!reader X Future!Osamu

Summary: On a stormy night, your boyfriend shows up at your door with his future self in two.

Warnings: No beta, Post time skip spoilers, minors DNI

Tags: dirty talk, masturbation, thigh fucking, voyeurism, overstimulation, crempires

Word Count: 4366

There was just something about tonight that made things feel amiss. it was smack dab in the middle of midterms week. Everyone was either studying, out at the bats drinking aways their dread, or like you trying to finish midterm papers. This makes the apartment complex you lived in quieter than usual which you don't mind at all. You can hear the heavy downpour of rain more clearly because of it too. You look up from the screen of your laptop to outside the window and at the street lamps below. the rain dampens the street lights, limiting their reach, and making them seem more like fairly glowing orbs. They add to the mysterious ambiance of the night.

A ding draws your attention back to your phone's screen has lit up with a banner of Osamu's name surrounded by grey hearts and stars

Osamu: babe?

Y/N: Hey bubs

Osamu: something weird happened

Y/N: Are you ok?

Osamu: yea. I was just getting in my head again.

Y/N: Oh no

Osamu: I know I'm sorry.

Y/N: you don't have to apologize. I'm not mad, it happens. I'm happy that you aren't keeping it to yourself this time.

Osamu: right, well as I was thinking was when the weird thing happened.

Y/N: and what is this weird thing?

Osamu: we're coming over

Y/N: what?

Osamu: is are coming over?

Y/N: what? Osamu what are you trying to say?

since Osamu only lived a floor above you in a studio apartment much like your own it didn't take long after his text for you to hear a knock on your door. When you open it you realize that 'is' wasn't a typo at all. 'is' was Osamu's attempt at making a plural of I.

Standing in the doorway was the Osamu who knew and loved. Board look slumped shoulders with hands stuffed in the pocket of the sweats he taken to wearing more often. Beside him was another man, more specifically another him. This Osamu was smirking in the same way Osamu still did from time to time, smug and relaxed, and stood a little straighter. Maybe even a little taller? He dressed in black sort and jeans, like a uniform of some sort, that is close not his broads body.

"Well, aren't ya goin' to invite in sweetheart?" the other Osamu asks and you move aside.

When the door clicks shut it also clicks for you who exactly this Osamu is. who he has to be. You follow behind the present Osama down the small hallway that opens up into the rest of your apartment. Older Osamu makes a b-line to your window to close the blinds while the other plops himself down on your couch making himself right at home leaning back and spreading his legs. if this was any other situation would have taken that as an open invitation to crawl onto his lap. Taking notice of the you-sized spot between his legs you also notice how the pair of sweats he wore were looking quite dingy. You wonder if he was heading into one of those weeks again where he barely slept, barely took care of himself, and stressed ate all your snacks. mid-terms week was definitely the kind of week where it would happen.

You give him that soft look but don't ask if he's been taking care of himself instead you ask, "He's for the future isn't he?"

Osamu nods seeming to not catch on the look or choosing to ignore it. "That's the weird thing that happened. He just sort of appeared."

The amazement that time travel existed and proof of that had now walk back over to stand in front of you right in front of you didn't cross your mind at first. What was crossing your mind was a series of questions. It takes the rest of your body a minute to catch up to these racing questions and actually speak one out.

"We're still together right?"

Older Osamu's laugh answers your question but he tells you anyway," I wouldn't be here if we weren't."

"And how exactly do we get you to from here back to where you belong, in the future."

"Tryin' to get rid of me already?" he cocks his head to the side teasing you. You look between present and future Osamu and find that neither seems bothered by the timeline consequences the older being here has. but hey guess that's anxiety for you.

"No, but why are you here? How are you here? How do we get you back so we don't fuck up the timeline?" you blurt out one question after the other to older Osamu and he just stands in front of you, thick arms crossing over his broad chest letting you get them all out.

The fact that neither of them seems to fully grasp the gravity of the situation infuriates you. "How are you two not freaking out about this?"

"Because one way or another he goes back after what happens tonight.”

you give the present version a questionable look. They definitely knew something that you didn't and weren't talking about it yet. "you two know something. What happens tonight?"

Instead of the present Osamu explaining, his older self tells you. "I don't really know how I get back but I do because he's still here," he points to himself," and I'm still for the future, a better version because of what happens tonight."

You don't miss the way his voice drops or how you notice him towering over you. You just try to focus on what they aren't telling you.

"What happens tonight?" you repeat the question.

"I show my past self how much better he can be," The older Osamu explains but it still leaves out the answer you looking for.

The order Osamu goes on," You know I was at a pretty low point at this time in my life. I didn't think that I was ever goin' to amount to anything. I would always be a stick in my twin's shadow, I'd be the less attractive twin, I'd always be dealin' with some bad patch of acne or my clothes were never goin' fit right, I'd always be sad like this. I never deserve you-"

"Ok," you cut him off. "Ok, I get it."

"He's not wrong ya know," you look over at the couch.

"I know... it's just hard to hear," you admit feeling guilty and ashamed for doing so. You want to be here for Osamu. You knew what he was going through since his twin got scouted for a pro team and you knew that you \ but that didn't make hearing how Osamu thought about himself anymore easy to hear. You were human. You loved Osamu. And sometimes it was hard to hear about problems of his that you didn't know how to make better.

"But that changes tonight. After tonight I get help, start seein’ a therapist. I start plannin’ for a future instead of being convinced that I don’t have one. I start to rub the amazing relationship I have with you in my twin's face. I start to learn to stop hatin’ my body for changing," The order supplies.

you frown. "But what happens tonight?"

Older Osamu leaned in closer to you, very close. So close that you can feel his breath rolls off your skin as he tells you, "Tonight I show my younger self how good he's gonna be able to fuck you in the near future ."

Well, damn. You weren’t expecting that. Mabey something a little closer to a heartfelt talk that would help Osamu out at this point of his life. This wasn’t to say that you were opposed to the idea. In fact, taking another look at the older version of your boyfriend, you were very ok with letting him rail you while the other watched. But someone about it felt wrong? More specifically it made you feel like it was something wrong.

The way the idea settles in your gut makes you turn your head slightly to look at the present version who’s still seated at the couch but sitting up a little straighter now. Anxiously and hopefully waiting for your answer.

“Are you sure?”

He nods then adds, “But only if you want to.”

You very much want to, it’s just….” Would this even count as cheating or like being with someone else?”

The older Osamu chuckles putting his knuckles under your chin and guiding your face back to his. “Darlin’ we’re the same person.”

That seems to settle your nerves and you nod. “Ok then. Show us.”

A smile breaks out across the order’s face. His other arms loops around your waist pulling you fully into his broad frame. “That’s my girl.”

The older Osamu tastes just the same as the present. The only difference is that he’s a lot less shy about using his tongue. Hell, he’s a lot less shy about using his whole body, and you honestly love it. The more that older Osamu explores your mouth with his, the harder you can feel him getting in his pants. Pulled so tightly against him means that you can feel every little twitch his cock gives in reaction to every little noise you’re able to make. Eventually, you two have to pull away for air. Dizzy with lips swollen you rest your cheek against the order’s heaving chest and look at to the younger who is staring at you like he’s start stuck. It’s cute.

“See,” The older tells his younger self. “Look how dizzy you can make her when you aren’t second-guessing everything.”

If the older was going to be bold, then so were you. You smooth a hand down his stomach, past his belt buckle and grip and the budge below it. All the while not taking your eyes off the present version of your boyfriend. This earns you a sharp intake of air from the older that comes out on a pleased exhale. “And don’t think for a minute that she doesn’t want all of you. Right darlin'? Look at you already tryin' to get at my cock.”

“You’re already hard.”

He nods. “And all for you. All’ve ya done is be your pretty little self and I’m already achin’ for ya.”

You squeeze your thighs together. You love to be dotted on by Osamu. You had realized early on that you definitely had a praise kink but only when it came to Osamu. With gentle hands, Osamu turns to the body so that you’re facing the present version. A firm hold on your arms holds you in place as a hot mouth leaves sloppy kisses along your neck in just the right spots to keep you feeling light-headed. Those hands eventually move. Snaking up too to grope at your titis through your sweatshirt. You go to squeeze your thighs together again, but suddenly there’s one less hand on your breast and a hand forcing your thighs apart.

“When she does that, squeeze her thighs together like that, it means she’s getting riled up,” The older explains while pressing fingers into your clothes clit and rubbing at it causing you to squirm slightly. “Why don’t we show him how wet you are darlin’?”

You simply nod because you want to see too. You can feel how arousal that's collected between your folds, but you've never gotten wet so fast before. Osamu gives you a little kiss on the cheek and helps you slip out of your legging and underwear leaving you bare from the waist down. You shiver both from your heated skin being exposed to the cool air of your apartment and the way that Osamu is staring from his spot on the couch/ The intensity of that look never fails to go straight to your groin.

One of older Osamu's hands dips between your spread thigh pushing through your folds. His fingers are a little rougher and that small difference feels so good. His fingers rub back and forth a few times, collecting your wetness as they go, before pulling them easy much to your dismay.

The older Osamu holds them up so that both you and his present self can see the strings of slick at connecting one digital to the other.

"Fuck," You both breathe.

Beyond the fingers, you can see Osamu relaxing into the couch and palming the crotch of his sweats

"'Samu, "You wine at both the older for him to touch you more and at the sight of the present touching himself.

"Aww, you want me to keep touching you down there darlin'?" the older coos into your year.

"Please," You ask nicely not feeling the least bit ashamed since both you and the present Osamu seem to want exactly that.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head darlin'," you feel warm hands slip up your sweatshirt. "I'm gonna touch you plenty. I can barely keep my hands off ya as is, but I wanna give my younger self a good view of how we make your body feel. So come off with the sweatshirt."

You do exactly as you told and strip out of your sweatshirt. You'd do anything to feel his fingers again. Osamu goes back to massaging your tits again, this time playfully rubbing your perk nippled between his fingers. Either Osamu wasn't telling you now you or at some point in the future, he loves playing with your boobs. You're only complaint was that he wasn't paying enough attention to the rest, more needing, parts of your body.

"Osamu, please~" you beg.

"See how easy it is to get her so needy?'

"Yea," the present Osamu nods his head stuffing a hand down his sweats.

"She just loves our touch that much. Right now if you were to ask she'd beg you to touch her, to fuck her, to do anything really, as long as it's us doing it," The older Osamu nudged your cheek with his nose making you crane your neck so that your lips are almost touching. " She's such a slutty little girl, " he says lower, "but she's our slutty girl, and we fucking love it."

Osamu's mouth is on yours again and there are fingers that aren't just rubbing your clit but now slipping inside. You moan into the older's mouth and buck your hips grinding against his hands. You hear a low curse from the present Osamu.

"Well, shit you look like your dick's about to explode there. You're about to cum but you're trying to make it last because you can't last very long after the first time can't ya."

A frustrated groan escapes the present Osamu's lips. He has the waistband of his sweats pulled down past his hips and his hand gripping the base of his flushed cock. He looked just about as lost in pleasure as you but had retained some sense of himself to pay attention so that he can learn how to make you feel this good in the future.

"Don't fret though because you're going to be able to go for rounds. Y/N can barely keep up in the future. I usually leave her so fucked out by the end of the night, but I make sure to take good care of her. Treat her to a nice bath and some home-cooked food in bed after I wreck her cunt. "

"O-Osamu," the name tumbles out as your breath quickens, everything that hen man was doing and describing to his younger self was so fucking hot and heavenly sounding.

"Holy fuck."

"Right? See what you can do when you start the impossible is possible? " he then addresses you. "You want more darlin'?"

"Please~"

"holy fuck Y/N," the present Osamu moans slowly stroking himself, "you sound so fucking good right now darlin'."

"That's what we love to hear," the older Osamu purrs. His hands leave your body but only for a moment to he unbuckles his pants and pull his dick free giving it a few pumps. Then they're on you again, grabbing your hips and lifting you up just enough that you stand on your tippy-toes.

"Now I'm gonna need to you stay just like that and keep squeezing those pretty thighs together. Can ya do that for us, darlin'?"

when he uses that nickname in that pitch of voice? It was a power that the present Osamu didn't realize he had yet, and god helps you the day that he did because you would do just about anything when he say's 'darlin' like that. you nod your yea with a little 'yes' and you feel the older's hands move to a firm grip on your elbows.

When he roughly pulls you into him your eyes go wild. This was new. The older Osamu's thick cock slips in and out from between your thigh, each thrust making your whole body jolt. Each time his hips meet the blunt head of his dick slips slang you slit and bumps against your slit making you see stars. All the while the present Osamu watches completely enthralled by the sight of his older self fucking your thighs. The way you titis are bouncing with every thrust, the way his older self is handing you like some treasured fuck toy, and those breathless moans you don't hold back, that's what he wants. He wants to be able to fuck you like that. He wants to be the only one to be able to make you feel the way you feeling right now. He just never thought he could until now.

"Does it feel good darlin'? The tip of my fat cock rubbing you like this?"

"y-yes!", answer as he paces quickens.

"Are you gonna cum like this? From me fucking your thighs while my younger self watches?"

you nod vigorously, the feeling of orgasm quickly building in your gut each time the tip of his dick meets your clit. You squeeze your thighs tighter your head lulls back when it finally washes over you.

"Shit," Osamu curses in your ear as his hips sputter and he spills his cum between your thighs, "Shit, that's it darlin' keep squeezin' round me like that. Don't she look so cute?"

"You haven't even fucked her yet," the present Osamu comments making the older chuckles

"You ready to watch that?”

"God yes," Osamu breaths out looking so desperate to watch you get railed by his older self that it's downright adorable.

The older Osamu chuckles. He handles you like you don't weigh a thing to him lifting you up and laying you back down at the end of the bed. The way the couch is facing the present Osamu has a perfect side view of the two of you. You set yourself up on your elbows when the older steps away. He doesn't bother stripping, he simply pulled his tee-shirt over his head and pushed his jeans down a little more.

"Oh god," You moan because holy fuck you have never wanted Osamu as bad as you wanted him now. He stands to at the foot of your had hands on his hips and a lopsided smirk letting you admire him in what wasn't even his full glory.

This thing that really gets you is how much Osamu hasn't, or in this cane won't change. His body was mostly the same. There's some muscles mass you could see in his forearm, chest, and the way that he manhandles you. His tits are still nice and supple, just begging for you to leave hickies on, and a faint patch of hair grows along his sternum. Your eyes roam across his soft tummy that has the faintest outline of abs the closer you look. Following his thicker trail of hair below his navel leads to his erect cock standing tall and as proud as he is that’s glistening under the soft light in your wetness.

"See," he glances at his younger self and his voice softens. "She really does love us and our body. Every last bit of it. Even on the day when we don't."

He then turns back to you," Now are you ready for me to fuck you darlin'?"

"Yes," you answer and spread your legs that are dangling off the foot of your bed a little wider to accommodate him.

When Osamu pushes into you there's a familiar burn of yourself stretching around him. The older takes things slowly so that you feel every inch of him entering you. Once he's bottom out in you Osamu takes your legs and wraps that around his waist.

Osamu's pace starts out slow and deep but doesn't stay this way for long. Soon your small apparent is filled with all sorts of lewd sounds. The loudest of which was the dull slaps of skin and squelching every time he thrusts back into you. They barely cover your breathless moans and high pitch whimpers. Both Osamu's are also being quite vocal. The present Osamu is cursing again as he bucks his hip and cums into his closed fist. Meanwhile, the older Osamu is grunting, jacking hammering into you. You can barely keep up with the brutal pace the older's set. All that you can really do at this point is grab and claw at his shoulders for something to hang on to for dear life too.

"Oh fuck. Oh, fuck Dalrin' you're gonna make me cum. Yer just suckin' me in a like that- shit! cummin'! I'm cummin' Y/N," Osamu moans burying himself as deep as he can inside you and flooding you with his release.

Feeling yourself being filled with Osamu's cum pushes you over the edge. Your walls flutters around his dick and thighs shake around his hips as you cum.

The order barely gives you time to catch your breath before he's calling for his younger self to switch places with him. The present Osamu is on his feet in an instant stripping out of his clothes on his way to you. The other Osamu moves aside, setting down on the couch and relaxing his arms across the back of it. He doesn't even bother to tuck his flaccid cock back into his jeans or fix his shirt. He smiles at the scene before him.

Osamu is hunched over you so you can wrap your arms around his neck and pull him that much closer to you as he fucks you. Like his older self, the pace is fast and deep. You can try and buck your hips but they aren't in sync with his thrusts. The mess, the disorganized movements of the two of you make things hotter, more intense. You're cumming again with a pleasured sob and Osamu continues to fuck you through it reaching his own high.

And he doesn't stop. Your present boyfriend keeps his feet planted on the floor and keeps fucking into even when his cum is being to seep out of your stuffed hole. He pulls away just enough so that he can see your flushed and sweaty face that he cups in his hands.

"One more yea"

your jaw trembles and the only words you can get out are incoherent so you nod.

A tired smile breaks out across his face. "That's my girl. Gonna make you f-feel so good. I'm going to make sure you always feel this good. gonna stuff you so full of my cum~"

You cum right along with Osamu, letting out a silent scream to fucked to do anything else. You can feel his whole body shudder as he pulls out of you. You immediately feel a mixture of you, him, and maybe even his future self leak out of your spent cunt. You feel him move you up the bed so that you can catch your breath while fully laying in your own bed with Osamu cuddled up next to you.

"Darlin'."

"Hmmm?" you hum eyes still closed.

"He's gone."

You peak an eye open and sure enough, the couch was empty now. You were too tired to really think about where the older Osamsua had gone but somewhere in your mind was the assumption that he went back to his own timeline in the future.

"Too tired and icky to care."

You feel fingers thread themself through you and massage your scalp. you lean into Osamu's touch and you're fully content to just lay here in the mess the two of them had made of you for the rest of the night.

"How about I run you a nice bath and we get cleaned up hmm? We can go back to my place and worry about your sheets tomorrow. "

"Will you cook for me?"

"Whatever ya want darlin'."

A few years down the road Osamu bursts into the apartment that you two share scaring the living hell out of you. "Fuck! Don't burst in like that."

"Sorry," he apologizes kicking off his shoes. "But it happened It finally happened."

"What happened?"

He strides over to the couch where you had been working on to laptop but set it aside and pulls you into his lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck and you can feel his wide smile on your skin. "That night during Junior year."

"We had lots of nights Junior. Give me more than that." you request already thinking of your favorite nights spent with Osamu rather it was making an all-night drive just to watch the sunrise, nights where you went out in a group of friends and went home wearing his shoes or being carried on his back, nights spent in eating his cooking, nights spent with his dick plugged into you...

"I made love to you while I watch."

"Ah that night," you smile, "The details are a little fuzzy, Mabey you can help job my memory after dinner with the team tonight?"

His arms tightened around your waist, "Oh, gladly darlin'."

more my Haijyuu fics can be found here: Haikyuu collection

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #osamu miya #osamu x y/n #haikyuu osamu #osamu scenarios #privet stacks

86 notes · View notes

uswnt-owns-this-homo · 4 years

Text

Let a Bitch Hit You- Julie Ertz x Reader

AN: Here’s my attempt at a protective JJ, hope I did it justice!

TW: Homophobia, mentions of drugs/alcohol, cursing of course, homophobic slurs and language

You take a deep breath as the ref blows the starting whistle, the Courage kicking the ball back to their defense, signalling the start of the game. You try to follow the ball as much as possible, taking care to stay in position and wait for opportunities and passes to come your way. You can’t help but to think of the circumstances as your teammate, and long term girlfriend, Julie Johnson, gets the ball, and passes it quickly, opening up space and helping the Red Star’s attack.

The significance of the game is not lost on you, your first one against your prior team. Jaelene Hinkle, one of the most openly homophobic people in the league, had pushed you towards your transfer, though you and Julie were already discussing a request at a later time. After her and Ashlyn’s epic twitter battle, Jaelene had lashed out slightly, demanding that you, as the “resident queer on the team’’, get dressed for games and practices in a different area, so that she “could change without being leered at”.

The rest of the team, minus your national teammates, had just let her go along with it, not defending you or telling her she was wrong. This, along with direct statements to you about your sexuality, including, but not limited to: constantly telling you you’re going to hell and sinning, pelting balls at you during practice, and, during team bonding events, conveniently forgetting to invite you, leaving you disconnected with the rest of the team, had led to the situation at hand.

Your former teammates, bar the national team members, attack you mercilessly. They go for cheap moves, like holding your jersey during corner kicks, and performing late slide tackles, obviously targeting your notoriously weak ankles and knees. Throughout the game, Julie’s frown has become more prominent, her play more sharp, focused on getting the win over the people, or more accurately, the person, who contributed to her girlfriend's small fall down the rabbit hole.

Instead of discussing the transfer, and the events behind it, with a professional, you had turned to alcohol, and over the counter medications, drinking booze and then taking benadryl, or cough syrup, and sleeping for days. You had kept up your facade of your usual happy, energized, rival to Sonnett in memes personality, up until you had moved in with Julie in Chicago. She had quickly noticed your actions, taking count of the vodka and medicine bottles, and had pushed you to see a therapist, resulting in your sobriety of now 4 months.

Hinkle makes the mistake of going in for a late slide tackle, clipping your already sore ankle. You turn to her and she sneers, winking at you. You slowly get up, rolling your eyes as the ref allows play to continue.

Julie has been slightly more aggressive when facing Hinkle, and some people have noticed, mainly you, and of course the target herself, especially after a particularly hard run in was made for the ball.

“Hey, Johnson, how about you clean up your play? This is the third time you’ve shoved me, getting sloppy there, homo?”

The look on your girlfriend’s face says it all, and all you can do is run to put a hand on her shoulder, trying to keep her from retaliating.

“Aw, look, dyke is trying to stop big bad Julie from starting something she can’t finish. How’s the cough syrup binge going, Y/N? Still sober, or have you fucked that up as well?”

You just blankly stare at her, feeling old urges resurface, trying to stay in the present, as well as keep Julie from getting carded.

“You know, I think you transferred because you know I’m right, and you can’t face the fact that you sin everyday, and don’t like that your sickness is brought to light, isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Julie shakes you off, stomping forward and shoving Hinkle, causing you to follow, holding her back slightly, your team, and the opposition coming together in a large huddle, Alyssa grabbing Julie and holding her back..

“Alyssa, please. No, Y/N, she can’t talk to you like that! I mean, the league has done jack shit to her for harassing you, or for poor sportsmanship, or any of the other numerous things she’s done. Jesus, you tried to kill yourself! And what does she get? Absolutely nothing!”

Jaelene seems to falter for a moment, before her face turns in a sneer.

“Poor Y/N, can’t take any criticism, what’d you do, try to get away from it?”

Julie finally breaks out of your and Alyasa’s grip, lunging at Hinkle, landing a solid punch to her jaw. The ref comes running, putting her hands on both players. Julie is still attempting to reach Hinkle, and laughs at the red card she’s shown.

“Oh yeah, fucking let the one who’s caused severe emotional and mental harm to my girlfriend get off scott free!”

Coach calls her over and she rolls her eyes, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead, glaring at Hinkle when she fake gags.

You’ve had enough, officially snapped, gone off the metaphorical rails of tolerance of douchbaggery.

“You know, you can insult me, make me want to cease living, but you have no right to be disgusted. Any god I know would be appalled at how you’ve treated my community, and I know you don’t go to heaven just on the merit of being a homophobic christian. Ash was right, you have no place on the national team… You wouldn’t fit,”

You shove her backwards, taking your yellow card with a grin. Play resumes relatively quickly, and your whole team goes forward into the second half with a renewed passion, compensating for Julie’s red. You lose yourself in the game, giving it your absolute all, and laying yourself out on every possible play. You manage to score 3 goals, one which could have been defended by Hinkle.

The whistle blows and your team rushes you, picking you up, hugging you, and cheering. You all head back to the locker room and you spot Julie, staring at her phone, a blank stare on her face. You sit beside her, putting your arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug.

“Thank you, so much. For defending me, for fighting for me, even though I really missed my favorite ball feeder,”

Julie cracks a smile and shrugs.

You pull her in for a short kiss, trying to convey all of your love for her. You all walk out of the locker room, bags and bus buddies in tow. Julie holds your hand as you walk to the bus, rubbing a thumb over it as you stare blankly ahead of you, thinking back on your whole experience with Jaelene. Julie wraps her arms around you as you both get onto the bus, finding your usual seat beside Alyssa, who smiles worriedly at you. You take a deep breath and look at Julie.

“I just, I thought transferring would give me peace, but she’s still there, the thoughts, they’re still there. Just. Why is it such a big deal to her? I’m just living my life, trying to be happy, and she constantly made me feel, hell, sometimes still makes me feel, worthless, and I know therapy helped, but still, sometimes, like tonight’s game, brings it all back,”

Julie gets a look on her face, as does Uncle Naeher. They look at each other and nod slightly, brows furrowed.

“Come on Alyssa, Y/N, sit here, we’ll be back in a second,”

You curl up in the seat, listening to Julie talk to Alyssa’s seat mate, and one of your friends on the team, Sam Kerr.

“Look, me and Alyssa have to go do something, we’ll catch an Uber to our place afterwards, could you do me a huge solid, look after Y/N for me? Make sure she stays talking, doesn’t zone out too much?”

Sam nods and Julie sighs, turns to you, and kisses you on the forehead.

Okay, love, I’m gonna go, sort things out. I’ll be back in a bit, before you go to bed, okay?”

You numbly nod, heart racing.

She quickly turns to Sam, nods, and goes to get off the not yet started bus. Coach looks at her and Alyssa, and they talk for a few seconds before he waves them on, glancing back at you. Sam moves to sit beside you, and you curl up to her side, silently wishing it was Julie.

You’ve made it back to the hotel, eyes red from your crying on the way back. You carry your bag to your room, Sam walking you to it and giving you a hug as you walk inside. You put your things down, taking care to organize it so you don’t have to deal with it later. You turn the coffee maker on, set it to hot water, and start to run it, putting a tea bag in and leaving it to brew while you shower. You get your sweats and long sleeve t-shirt, taking out your toiletries and turning the water on cold, hoping the chill will help pull you out of your funk. You hop in and sit under the water, shivering slightly, but unwilling to turn it warmer.

You must sit there for an hour, slowly numbing even more from the cold water. You vaguely hear the room’s door open, Julie setting down her bag and putting her keys on the desk.

“Y/N? Babe?”

You want to turn your head, say something, go lay and curl up in your girlfriend’s arms, let her reassure you, but the motivation doesn’t come. So, you sit and numbly watch, shivering and lips turning blue, as Julie comes in the bathroom, looks to you, and immediately rushes into the shower, clothes on and forehead cut, eye black.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here, stayed with you, I just. She did this to you, without really trying, I couldn’t just let that happen,”

You just shrug and hug her, trying to get warm, regretting your tactic for pulling yourself out of your mind.

“Okay, we need to get you warm. I saw your tea, you can have that, and then we can lay down and watch that documentary you heard about from Rose?”

You nod, watching her turn water to warm, and strip, leaving her soaked clothes on the bathroom floor. Julie slowly washes your hair, conditions it, and takes a cloth to your slowly warming body, every touch and prod gentle and full of love. She keeps you under the warm spray for a while, holding you and rocking slightly.

“Okay, now which one of my hoodies do you want? We have the Santa Clara U or the Red Stars one, and some sweats, and some fuzzy socks are in your near future,”

You smile.

“You wore the Red Stars one more recently, so that one,”

A small blush runs across her cheeks, her usual confident demeanour gone.

“I’ll see what I can do, charmer. Ready to get out, get bundled, and get cuddled?”

She goes about shutting off the water, looking down to nod at you, and then stands up, you still cradled to her chest. You have a moment of realization.

“If I ask nicely, will you avoid putting clothing on?”

She sputters and turns tomato red.

“I- what? No, clothes are going on so I can properly warm you up, no more sly passes! I’m trying to take care of you, short stuff,”

You glower, sigh, and wrap your arms around her neck, waiting for her to put you down.

“Okay, look, tonight may have gotten to me, just a bit, but even all wacked out, I know somethings wrong. What happened to your face, and where’s Uncle?”

She sighs and starts to towel you off.

“Fine, The Giant and I went to have a chat with Hinkle, and I had her record it. I simply started talking with Hinkle, trying to reason and help her to understand things a little better, and then she hit me, and I didn’t hit back, and then she hit me some more,so now we’re hoping that we can send this to the big people in charge and maybe she’ll get suspended or in trouble or something. Alyssa is back with Sammy trying to stay away from conflict for the rest of her life. She did tell me to tell you to come down tomorrow if you needed some tips for dealing with the whole situation. Honestly think it’s the most she’s spoken this season,”

You hug her and wrap the towel around her shoulders before smacking her gently in the leg.

“No more inciting violence in the hopes that you fuck with people who have ‘wronged me’ or whatever it is you said that one time, got it? Also, you need ice, but I will say I love a girl with a black eye,”

You walk off into the main part of the room, ruffling through Julie’s bag to find her sweatshirt, lifting it over your head with a triumphant croon.

“Aw yeah, the epic girlfriend hoodie, let’s go!”

Julie chuckles and walks out, coming up behind you and grabbing her SCU hoodie, pulling it on and winking.

“So that next time you want a sweatshirt, you can have a freshly me scented one,”

You roll your eyes and grab a pair of training shorts, pulling them on and grabbing your tea, laying back carefully on the bed.

“Okay, coral documentary, snuggles, and then sleep,”

Julie nods and gets in bed, pulling you close and grabbing the laptop beside the bed and opening up Netflix.

“Sounds like a pretty amazing night to me, shorty, let’s watch us some ocean stuff,”

Needless to say you’re crying by the end of the documentary. Julie jerks awake, her soft snoring abruptly ceasing.

“What? What happened, who hurt you, I’ll let em’ punch me, get their ass suuspeendedd,”

You chuckle, still crying slightly.

“Nobody, babe, just, he loves coral! And it’s disappearing, and he’s sad and all emotional and now I’m all emotional!”

You sniff a few times and shut the computer, quickly putting it on the bedside table.

“Please don’t let anyone hit you again, Juls, pretty please,”

She sleepily grunts and mumbles.

“Man, sometimes you just let a bitch hit you, ya’ know. Gotta get the w somehow, cause I sure didn’t get it during the game,”

You laugh and wrap her arms tighter around you, knowing it’s going to be a bit of a long road ahead, but certain that the whole situation will pan out, and that you have Julie by your side through all of it.

#julie johnston x reader #julie ertz x reader #julie ertz #uswnt imagine #julie ertz imagine

198 notes · View notes

axwalker · 4 years

Text

Tears in Heaven 10: Endings

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is about to get married but memories of her old life are coming back to haunt her.

Pairings: Drake x MC (TRR)

Warnings: NO ONE UNDER 18 should read this story. This is an 18+ blog.

Mention of child death, mention of depression, grieving

N*FW content!

A/N: There will be a small epilogue next week, but this is the official ENDING.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thank you so much to all the people that read it, shared it and commented it. Every single like, reblog or comment gave me life! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@mskaneko Thank you for all your amazing insights when you read and your incredibly inspiring edits and mood boards. You’re one of a kind!

@pedudley Thank you for pre-reading every chapter and being such a great, supportive friend. Your feedback meant a lot/

@burnsoslow The MVP of this whole thing!! I was so stuck before your brilliant book idea!! Thank you for that and for the hours and hours (and hours) of editing!! Without you I would’ve never been able to write this fic. You’re an amazing friend and human being. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR HELP.

I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO MUCH ❤️

To catch up: Masterlist

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry. The edit at the end of this fic belongs to the talented @mskaneko

Word count: 7 697 (!!!)

Songs inspiration: Tears in heaven by Eric Clapton

Tagging: @ao719 @yukinagato2012 @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @cordonia-gothqueen @bebepac @nomadics-stuff @cordonianroyalty @forthebrokenheartedthings @bascmve01 @gibbles82 @mom2000aggie @gardeningourmet

Perma: @burnsoslow @mskaneko @mskaneko @pedudley @pug-bitch @ac27dj @twinkle-320 @kimmiedoo5 @marshmallowsandfire @loveellamae @debramcg1106 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @ravenpuff02 @princessleac1 @ritachacha @drake-colt-lover-99

Liam woke up feeling restless. He rolled over in bed, trying to get a few minutes of sleep, but guessed it would be useless. Before taking a long hot shower, Liam called the kitchens so they’d bring him a large jug of strong coffee with his breakfast - he would need it to get through the day. Thirty minutes later, he was sitting on the balcony of his room at Valtoria, sipping his second cup of coffee of the morning and thinking about his fiancée. More than the conversation he had had with Alexis two days prior, it was the one he and his brother had shared the previous afternoon that he was obsessing over.

Since he had met her, he had been head over heels for Alexis. However, even if his love for her was undeniable, the real question was if they were right for each other. Reluctantly, Liam had to admit that he barely recognized himself in the jealous, controlling, manipulative man he had become. And as tempted as he was to blame Drake and his return for the demise of their relationship, deep down, he knew something else was profoundly wrong with them.

Leo was right: He didn’t trust Alexis. Liam wanted to, desperately, but he just couldn’t. The memory of the day he had found her almost dead on her bed still haunted him. Liam had never really gotten over it.

Alexis entered their room and saw Liam sitting with his paper and sipping coffee, lost in his thoughts. Earlier that morning, when she had left Drake’s cabin, she had done so convinced that the only right decision was to marry Liam. However, standing there and watching him, her own words resonated in her head. Liam deserved better. And he did; he deserved better than a life with a woman that would never be able to fully love him. Neither of them would ever be happy if they went ahead with their wedding.

Alexis was scared -- terrified -- of loving Drake again, of facing her grief, but hiding behind Liam couldn’t wouldn’t, be the solution anymore.

“Hi, Li,” she said, sitting on the chair next to him.

“Love.” Liam saw her sad expression and instinctively knew what she was about to tell him.

Alexis hugged herself and took a sharp breath, trying to gather some courage. Her eyes watered as she tried to get the words out. “I’m sorry, Liam.”

Liam’s hand gripped his cup of coffee. “You’re calling off the engagement.”

“I … I wasn’t planning to do it,” she sobbed. “But the more I think about it, the more I realize I’m not good for you, Liam.”

Despite his best efforts, a cold rage overpowered him. “Do not pretend that this has nothing to do with Drake, Alexis.”

“I’m not going to lie. Drake showing up again accelerated things. But our problems have nothing to do with him. Our marriage wouldn’t have lasted. We were asking too much from each other. I would never be happy being a duchess, and I know how badly you want to be a father, Liam. It was selfish of me to ask such a huge sacrifice of you.”

“I don’t care, Alexis. I would do anything for you,” Liam implored. “I know we have problems, but I’m sure that if we work together, we would be able to find a solution.”

She shook her head. “Are you happy with me, Li?”

He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I love you very deeply, Alexis.”

“That’s not what I asked. You’re constantly worried about me. You don’t trust me. And we never share our problems because we don’t want to burden each other. We never talk about Tom.” She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.

Liam’s eyes widened. “Did you just say his name?”

She nodded.

“One day with him, and you’re already saying Tom’s name again.” His glossy eyes looked at her. “It’s always been him,” he muttered. “All this time, you didn’t stop loving Drake, did you?” he asked her.

“Liam … please don’t go there,” she begged, more tears running down her face.

“Did you ever even love me?” His voice betrayed the cool façade he was trying to maintain. Incapable of staying put, he stood up in front of the balcony’s railing.

Alexis cut the distance between them and hugged him as tightly as she could. After a moment, she took his head between her hands. “I love you, Liam. And not only because you saved my life, but because you’re an amazing, loving, generous man; because of all the moments we shared together. You gave me a reason to wake up in the mornings. Thanks to you, I was able to smile, to live again. I’ll never forget that.”

“Right ... you’ve always loved me, but you never fell in love with me,” Liam replied bitterly.

At that moment, watching Liam breaking in front of her, Alexis hated herself. “I tried Li. And it has nothing to do with you; I just never really got over … everything.”

Liam wiped a tear from her face. Too heartbroken to talk, he simply took her in his arms and kissed her head.

Alexis took off the engagement ring and placed it in his palm. “I never deserved this. And maybe you don’t believe me right now, but I know you’ll meet someone who will.”

Every word she pronounced felt like he was being stabbed. Liam turned his gaze towards the gardens. “Please leave, Alexis. There is no point in prolonging this anymore.”

Alexis squeezed his hand and left him there. As she walked away, a strong feeling of contrition flitted through her body in response to the tightness in her chest. However, despite her guilt over hurting a good man, Alexis knew she had made the right decision.

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

Drake put his syringe and gloves in his bag, patted Thunder on his rump, and left the horse’s stall, rubbing his neck tiredly. After a long day doing the weekly check-ups on the horses of one of his biggest clients, he was shattered. However, working to exhaustion hadn’t worked as well as he had hoped; Alexis and her goddamn stubbornness hadn’t left his mind for a second.

When he finally got home, his heart skipped a beat when he saw Alexis sitting on the steps of his porch, waiting for him.

“Hi, Drake.”

His heart raced as it did every time he saw her. “Hi, Lexie.”

“Can we talk?” she asked, and he detected a slight edge in her voice.

“Of course, Lexie. Let’s go inside.”

Alexis shook her head no. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d preferred if we take a walk.”

“Why?” Drake questioned, puzzled.

Because if I enter the house, I won’t be able to leave it again. “It’s better,” she stated simply.

“Okay.” Drake shoved his hands in his pockets. If she didn’t want to come into the house, that meant she was divorcing him and choosing Liam. He felt the pain of losing her all over again threaten his heart.

Drake and Alexis walked a while next to each other without a word. Inadvertently, they took the path to the lake where they used to fish and have picnics with Tom. Drake glanced over her; the look in her eyes was not sad as he had expected but determined. She was wearing the fierce expression that meant she had made a decision.

They sat in the old wooden pier next to each other. “What do you want to talk about, Lexie?”

Alexis bit her bottom lip. “I broke up with Liam.”

His eyes immediately darted to her left hand. Relieved to see that the ring was gone, Drake exhaled a lightened breath. “Lexie.” He was impatient to kiss her, to feel her again, but something about her demeanor stopped him. An awful thought snaked into his mind. “Do you want to sign the divorce papers anyway?”

Alexis placed her small hands on his large ones. “No. It’s the last thing I want.” She smiled at him.

Drake cupped her face, allowing his thumb to draw soft circles around her lips. “I don’t get it. Why are you so sad?”

“I need to ask you for something.” Drake nodded, still tenderly rubbing her face. “I’m sure that I don’t want a divorce. But I’m not ready to move back here yet.” She took a sharp breath. “I never really grieved Tom, you know? I mean, I did all the four first stages. I was furious at first and then hurt and broken at that clinic. But after my depression, I regressed. I realize now that I’ve been in denial for the past three years.”

Drake wiped her tears again and pulled her close to him.

“My therapist didn’t want me to leave the clinic. She said I wasn’t ready, but I wasn’t a danger to myself anymore, so she didn’t have any other choice but to sign my release. I need to do that now. Finish my therapy, be alone, and I’m sure you’re going to roll your eyes at this,” she joked, “but I need time to find myself. I don’t know who I am anymore, Drake. I don’t do any of the things I used to enjoy. And I feel this guilt that I can’t seem to shake. I feel guilty for the pain that I just caused Liam, but I especially feel guilty about us. About all the things I told you that day.”

“Lexie, please. You have to let that go. You weren’t yourself back then -- neither of us was,” Drake said tenderly.

“I still need to forgive myself.” She squeezed his hands. “Please don’t give up on me, Drake. I just need some time. A few months, maybe,” she pleaded with tears in her eyes.

It hurt like hell, but he understood. Drake took her face between his hands. “Listen to me, baby, because this is very important. I love you. No matter what. No matter what I’ve done or you’ve done. No matter what will happen. I will always love you.” He interrupted himself to give her a soft kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “If I have to wait for you for the rest of my life, I will. I lost you once, but I swear I will never lose you again. Never.” She smiled through her tears. “This is what I wanted. That you chose whatever was best for you. And I think this is it. I’ll be here at the end, loving you. Okay?”

“Thank you, Drake.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he crashed his mouth with hers in a searing, hungry kiss. After a breathless moment, he forced himself to stop. It was clear that Alexis wasn’t ready for anything else. They shared a few more moments together, then Drake walked her back to her car.

She opened the door but stood next to it, torn between her longing to stay and her need to leave.

“I know you need to go through this alone, but promise me that if it’s too much, you’ll call me, Lexie. Day or night.” Drake said as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I promise.” Alexis kissed him again, trying to memorize how much she enjoyed his lips on hers, the way he had to kiss her with all his body. Drake held her as close as he could; if he had his way, he would never let her go.

But Alexis was too confused, too rattled by everything that had happened. She needed to claim her independence and regain control of her life before coming back to him. Watching her leave broke his heart, but he knew that she was worth the waiting.

With tears in her eyes, she got in her car and drove away, hoping that she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

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

The first month was arduous. Coming back to therapy and having to deal with Tom’s death proved to be as challenging as Alexis had thought, but she persisted, determined to get better. She and Drake respected their arrangement and didn’t see each other, but whenever a session became too strenuous, or she was at risk of getting depressed, she called him, and they talked for hours over the phone. Drake told her about his experiences in prison and his life in Spain, and she finally spoke about the long months she had been committed to the clinic and her suicide attempt. Each phone call left them hopeful and terribly nostalgic, but Drake never pressured her.

After two months of intense therapy, Dr. Salas, her psychologist, encouraged her to do something for herself. Alexis immediately knew what she needed. For the next four months, she rented a cottage in Portavira and moved next to the beach. It was a small cottage, but it had a porch where she could sit, watch the ocean, and write every day. During that time, Alexis cried a lot, but she also began to take long walks along the beach, hike and swim in the ocean; the calm of the secluded beach and the soothing sound of the waves had a curative power on her. Alexis missed Drake desperately, more and more with every passing day, but she knew that she needed to finish what she had started before coming back to him.

The first days in Portavira, Alexis only managed to write a few lines, but soon an idea began to form in her mind. At first, she refused it; nothing would be more painful than writing that, but Dr. Salas had suggested that it could be cathartic to explore her grief through her words. One afternoon where Alexis was feeling unusually relaxed, she sat in front of her computer with a cold glass of Chardonnay and started typing. She cried her eyes out with every word, but in the end, she felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. For the first time since her little boy had died, Alexis accepted that while the pain in her chest would never really disappear, she might be able to be happy again.

The next morning, she called Charlie, her old boss, and sent her the manuscript.

Drake was quickly regaining his excellent reputation among the owners of Cordonian stables and racetracks. Thoughts about Lexie consumed him day and night, so he spent those six months working like crazy. In his spare time, he read, fished, or rode his horse, but he felt restless all the time. One night after talking to her, an idea crept into his mind. He already knew the perfect place, so he made an offer, and when he got it, he devoted all his free time to making it perfect.

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

Liam rubbed his eyes tiredly; he had been up working for almost 20 hours straight, trying to figure out a way to bring new investors to Valtoria. He, Hana, and his team had developed a health plan that aimed to offer affordable healthcare to all the duchy’s citizens, but he needed private investors and the help of the Crown to be able to fund it.

At almost 10:00 p.m., Liam leaned against his chair. Hana dropped her pen on the desk and raked her hair with her hands. They both yawned at the same time, which made them chuckle.

“We’re too tired, Hana,” Liam said as he stood up to get a drink from the cart in his office. “Something to drink?”

“Gin, please,” Hana answered, grinning.

Liam couldn’t help but admire how pretty his assistant was. Hana was a special woman; she was smart and kind, and she cared about Valtoria almost as much as he did. He always had fun in her company.

Alexis had left him six months ago. The first two months had been hell; after being in love with her for so long, Liam had had trouble adjusting to the idea that she would never be with him. However, after some time, he realized that Alexis had made the right decision. They weren’t happy together; she had never stopped loving Drake, and he was in love with a woman who no longer existed. Besides, Liam had to admit that he felt lighter and freer without the burden of his constant concern for her. His love for Alexis wasn’t healthy or romantic; it was toxic and harmful for both of them.

Liam handed Hana her gin, smiling at her. “What would you think if I called that place where we had dinner with the French ambassador the other night? We can ask for a couple of Black Truffle Croque Monsieur and some eclairs au chocolat?” he asked playfully, his stomach groaning at the thought.

Hana’s face lit up. “That would be perfect, Liam.”

“You call the restaurant, Hana. I will go look for a bottle of Beaujolais from the cellar.” Liam left his office, grinning. He didn’t know why, but the prospect of spending an intimate moment with Hana made him happier than he had been in a long time.

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

Alexis swam for almost an hour. The cold, tranquil ocean was the only place where she could calm her nerves that morning. After four months on the beach, she was going back to Cordonia that same afternoon, hopefully to stay. Charlie had arranged a public reading in a small bookstore in Cordonia to launch her book, and Alexis had invited Drake - the real reason behind her nervousness that morning. A smile formed on her lips from just the thought of him. When she had called him to invite him to the reading, she hadn’t dared to tell him that she was ready, that she couldn’t wait another minute to be with him. Mostly because she didn’t want to do it over the phone.

But also because a part of her was still scared. There was no doubt in her heart; she loved Drake more than anything. But what if they were able to be happy again and another tragedy struck them? If she had to go through the pain of losing him again, Alexis knew without the shadow of a doubt that she wouldn’t be able to recover.

In addition to all of that, there was something she needed to tell him, and Alexis wasn’t sure how Drake was going to react. She stepped out of the ocean and dried herself. When she got to the house, Alexis went to her closet, thinking about what she was going to wear. Butterflies flapped in her stomach, knowing that she was dressing for him, that if everything went well, she would be in his arms that same night — the feeling of being 19 years old all over again washed over her. After a short shower, she applied light makeup and blow-dried her hair. Before leaving the house, she looked at herself in the mirror. It didn’t matter how scared she was; fear had dominated her life for almost five years. It wouldn’t control another minute of it.

Drake turned on the engine of his jeep, his heart racing thinking about her. He had no idea what her book was about, but Alexis had talked about it with that cute voice she had when she was really thrilled about something. Drake could almost see her face if he closed her eyes: her wide, gorgeous smile and a pink blush covering her cheeks with excitement. During their conversation, she hadn’t said anything about their marriage, but Drake knew she wouldn’t have invited him if she wasn’t ready to be with him again. At least he really hoped so. Before going to the library, he made a quick stop. His project was on the right track. He prepared the last surprise for her and then left for the reading.

The children’s bookstore that Charlie had picked was perfect. Small and cozy, it had a lounge with two large sofas and colorful cushions. Posters of Tom Sawyer’s books and figurines of the Harry Potter and Narnia universes decorated the walls. The owner had moved an antique armchair to the middle of the room, so the kids and their parents would be surrounding Alexis in a half-circle as she told her story. She was greeting the families that her agent had invited when she heard a familiar voice calling her.

“Blossom!” Maxwell ran to hug her. “I missed you so much; I have a million things to tell you!”

She hugged her best friend back. “Hi, Max! I missed you too. How’s the married life?”

“Perfection. Rashad is the best husband in the world. A total control freak, but I knew that already.”

Alexis laughed. “Anyone seems like a control freak compared to you.”

“I guess that’s true.” Max beamed, looking at her. She was wearing a beige mid-length dress with an oversized camel blazer and nude high heels. “You’re gorgeous, by the way.” Her friend gave her a knowing smile. “Drake is going to drop dead when he sees you.”

She gave her friend an anxious smile. “He isn’t here yet.”

“He’ll be here soon, Lexie. Don’t worry,” Maxwell said, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Darling, everything looks fabulous.” Olivia kissed both her cheeks. “I’m so proud of you,” she said earnestly.

“Come on, Liv. Don’t make me think you’ve gone soft,” Alexis teased.

“I mean it, Alexis.”

“I know you do,” she replied, squeezing her best friend’s hands. “Thank you.”

Charlie interrupted them. “Please take your seats. You need to start, Alexis.”

Alexis sat in the armchair; she glanced at the door one more time, and there he was, looking shamelessly handsome in a white shirt and jeans. Drake winked at her as he sat on one of the sofas next to her. His boyish grin had the power of rendering her speechless. She swallowed her nervousness and opened the book. Drake noticed that it was signed by Alexis Walker, and his smile got wider.

“Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Tom who lived in a small red cabin in the middle of the woods. Every night before bed, his mom and dad sang him lullabies and told him stories of faraway lands, brave princes, and courageous queens. His best friends were Buttons, a little grey rabbit that followed Tom everywhere he went, and Maxie, an enthusiastic fire truck with a loud voice that only Tom could hear. Tom wanted to travel very far; thus, his dream had always been to conquer the faraway lands his parents described to him every night. One sunny April morning, Tom put his wooden sword and blue cape in his backpack and left, followed by Buttons and Maxie, to live the adventures he had dreamed of.”

Alexis looked up and saw Drake staring at her with glossy eyes. He gave her a soft nod, so she turned her eyes back to the book and kept on reading. Perhaps to avoid thinking about his lost son, Drake’s attention focused on her. He looked at her, enraptured. Alexis’ bright brown eyes were almost shining; her silvery voice had the entire room captivated with her story. The inner light he had always loved in her was back, as bright as before. In only a few months, she had managed to regain control of her life and make her dream come true. Every time he thought that he couldn’t possibly admire or love her more, she surprised him again. He was utterly, hopelessly, crazily in love with her.

“… Tom, Maxie, and Buttons had lived an incredible adventure. Tom missed his mom and dad deeply, but he knew that they were waiting for him in their little red cabin in the middle of the woods and that he’d soon come home.”

Alexis closed the book with watering eyes. “Thank you for coming. This book means a great deal to me.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I hope you enjoyed it. I’ll be happy to answer questions if you have any.”

One woman holding a little girl in her lap raised her hand and asked the question Drake was dreading. “Is Tom’s character based on someone real?”

Charlie had warned Alexis that she needed to be prepared to answer that. She gripped the book and took a deep breath. “Yes, on my son.” After drinking a gulp of water to control herself, she added, “He’s no longer with us.”

Drake smiled at her sadly but reassuringly when the audience went silent for a few seconds.

Maxwell quickly raised his hand. “Um … I just wanted to know if you’re preparing a sequel.”

Alexis gave him a grateful look. “Not at the moment, maybe later. Thank you for your question, sir.”

A little girl in pigtails asked her a question about Buttons, and a blond boy questioned her about Maxie the fire truck.

After she was done answering and signing copies of the book, she went to meet with Drake, Max, and Olivia.

“I loved it, Blossom! I have to say that Maxie the fire truck is the best character. He seems to be the smartest, funniest, cutest one of them all. Certainly much more than the evil Queen Nevrakis,” Maxwell beamed as Olivia shook her head, for once, more amused than annoyed.

A sudden silence made Olivia realise that Drake and Alexis were looking at each other longingly. She cleared her throat. “I have a date with Jin tonight, so we better get going, Max.”

Maxwell beamed as he hugged both of them. It was unquestionable for anyone who knew them that Drake and Alexis belonged with each other, and nothing could make Max happier than to see them together again. “I’m so happy for you guys! See you soon!”

They both chuckled; Drake brushed Alexis’ hand with his, slowly intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Did you like it?” Alexis asked Drake timidly.

“It was wonderful. The way you described him was simply perfect.” Drake threw her a small smile. “It was our Tom. I admire you so much, Lexie. Thank you for this; I needed it too.” They locked eyes with each other, both their hearts racing.

“I’m ready, Drake,” Alexis blurted out and immediately felt the blush in her cheeks, her heart beating furiously in her chest.

“Are you sure you’re ready to come with me?” he asked her with his deep voice, an intense longing in his eyes.

“As long as you still want me to,” Alexis gave him a coquettish smile.

He tightened his grip on her hand. “Always, Lexie.” The loving look she gave him back was enough to drive him wild. Drake looked around him; they were in a children’s bookstore surrounded by kids and Alexis’ old boss. Probably not the best place to kiss her as he was dying to.

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered sheepishly.

Alexis arched her brows. “Really? What is it?” she asked excitedly.

Drake smirked. “A surprise has to be unexpected. As a writer, aren’t you supposed to know definitions of words and shit?”

“Smartass,” she laughed. “I just need to say good-bye to Charlie really quick, and we can go.”

When they got into the car, Drake leaned to her seat and cupped her beautiful face. She let out a soft gasp when he kissed both her cheeks, the corners of her lips, her nose. “I’m going to spend the rest of the night, of my life, kissing every part of you, baby,” he growled in her ear.

If Alexis waited another minute, she would’ve imploded right there, so she crashed her lips on his, making him groan with want. Drake pressed her body against the seat, but an annoying thought made him stop. “Our first time after all this time will not be in the passenger seat of my jeep, Lexie.”

Alexis bit her bottom lip. “Let’s go,” she urged him.

After a short drive, Drake pulled over on the side of the highway. He grabbed a silk tie from the back seat. “I need to cover your eyes.”

“It’s dark, and we’re in the middle of the woods, Walker. Are you trying to kidnap me?” she asked with a flirty tone.

A smug grin spread on his lips. “Actually, that is exactly what I’m going to do. Turn around.” Gently, he placed the tie around her head and tied a knot. “No peeking, Lex,” he said, kissing her head.

She shook her head, now too excited to speak.

After a few minutes, they arrived, and Drake helped Alexis to get out of the car. The feeling of walking in an unknown place with her eyes covered could’ve made someone nervous, but there was no one Alexis trusted more in the world than Drake; he would rather die than let something happen to her. They walked a few inches with him firmly holding her. When they stopped, he pulled her back against his chest, circling her waist with his arm. He leaned to speak in her ear. “Six months ago, in one of our phone calls, you told me how difficult it’d be for you to live in the cabin again. That you would love to start our lives somewhere else.”

Alexis nodded.

“That day, I recalled how much you loved that abandoned house next to the lake. It was small and run down, but you fell completely in love with it. Remember?”

“I do,” she said with a lump in her throat.

They were taking a stroll next to the lake when Alexis saw it. The house was almost in ruins, but according to her, it had significant potential. As it was clearly uninhabited and there was a window open on the ground floor, she climbed through it; Drake followed her, chuckling, with Tom in his arms. Once inside, he had to admit that the house did show promise. They would have to spend a lot of weekends renovating it, but he loved manual work and was sure Alexis would make it as cozy and comfortable as she had made his father’s cabin. Back in their own place, they daydreamed about buying the house and renovating it. She drew a small sketch of what she pictured: a huge kitchen where they could both cook together, a swing for Tom to play, a porch to watch the sunset, and a main room with a skylight where they could see the stars every night. It would take some time and a lot of effort, but they thought the house was worth it. When Drake was about to make an offer to the real estate agency, tragedy overcame them, and they forgot all about it.

Drake uncovered her eyes, and she gasped. They were standing in front of the house, but it had changed. Drake had spent the last five months working on it every minute of his spare time. The old washed-out exterior was now a beautiful wooden façade with a large, wide-pillared porch in the front.

He held her tightly. “Now this is the exterior. There’s still a lot of renovation work to do inside. You’ll see.”

Alexis had happy tears in her eyes. “I … I can’t believe you did this, Drake. It’s gorgeous.” She turned around, and he cupped her face and gave her an intense, searing kiss.

“Come on, I want to show you the rest,” he said when they finally parted, breathless. Drake grabbed her hand, and they laced their fingers together.

They stepped into the house, and even if Drake was right and the first floor still needed a lot of work, Alexis wandered around happily with her heart full. “I love the kitchen! We can have a large counter here,” she said, pointing to one side of the room. “What would you think about a thick wood table?”

Alexis’ face reflected so much excitement and enthusiasm that Drake couldn’t help but grin at it. His gaze followed her as she pranced all over the house with a thousand ideas of how to renovate every corner of it.

“So I gather you like it?” he asked, arching an amused eyebrow.

“Like it? I love it, Drake! It’s perfect. I’d like to move here as soon as possible!”

Drake couldn’t help but smile tenderly at her. “Are you sure? We can stay in the cabin for a few more months while we do the renovation work here.”

“If the water is running, I’d prefer to stay here,” she answered with an earnest smile. “This is us, Drake. Ours. A new life together. I’m not running from our past, and I never want to forget Tom,” she said, brushing a small tear with her hand. “I just want to start over in a place where we can create new memories.”

“If that’s really what you think, there’s a room that’s already finished.” He threw her a quizzical smile. “Do you remember the drawing you did of how we pictured our house?”

Alexis let out a spontaneous laugh that made Drake's heart leap. “I would barely call the doodles I made drawings, but I remember the moment, yes.”

“Well, I hope I did the doodles justice.” Drake held his breath as he opened the door.

Alexis gasped; he had remembered everything she had dreamed of. A soft, fluffy carpet. A big bed full of cushions, a fireplace warming the room, and the skylight over the bed. The moon and stars lit up the whole room through it.

Mesmerized, she took off the blazer she was wearing, and Drake’s eyes widened. The beige dress she had underneath was tight and hugged every single curve of her body. Suddenly, Drake was very aware of the taunting way she moved; she turned her back on him to look at the fireplace, and his eyes went straight to her bare upper back and the delicate line of her neck. Blushing, he moved to readjust himself. Her thrilled voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“I love it, Drake. Every single part of it! The skylight is exactly how I’d imagined it!” He took off his own jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “What?” she asked, catching her bottom lip between her teeth when she realized he was looking intently at her.

“Are you wearing that for me?” Drake’s low baritone and sexy smile made her blush crimson red.

“Maybe,” she answered with the most innocent look in her eyes but a sultry voice.

Drake cut the distance between them; even with her sexy nude heels, he towered over her. “Don’t give me that innocent look, baby,” he growled. “Or I won’t be able to control myself.”

Alexis leaned towards him, her hands playing with his collar. “See, Drake, that’s the thing. I don’t want you to control yourself.”

He swept her off her feet. She looped his neck in a burst of roaring laughter. “I want you so fucking much, Lexie,” he told her as he gently dropped her on the bed. Their bed. He hovered over her, holding his weight up with his right arm.

She hid her nose on his neck, inhaling the intoxicating sandalwood. “Me too, Drake.”

“You deserve the world,” Drake said, staring at her almost black eyes looking at him adoringly. He wanted nothing more than to make this night last as long as he possibly could. “It’s been four years that I’ve been thinking about this moment,” he said, gently kissing her cheek. “Four years that I’ve dreamed of making you mine again.” He growled at her ear as he nipped it. “And now, I finally have you here --” He softly bit her neck. “-- all for myself.” He kissed her collarbone as he slowly unzipped her dress. “This damn dress is making me wild, Lexie.”

As he rubbed his thumb on her lips and cheeks, Alexis’ heart beat so fast, she was sure he could hear it. Finally, he kissed her, and time stopped. His lips felt so soft on hers, his tongue so passionate when it slowly entered her mouth, intertwining with hers. His strong hand cupped her head as he deepened the kiss. Suddenly the need became urgent, and he moved to her neck, possessed by the need to claim her. Drake softly sank his teeth in her, making an exhilarated moan escape from her throat.

Slowly, he pulled the dress’ front zipper down, peppering sultry kisses on every inch of skin he discovered, until only her lacy underwear was left. He pulled her to him and kissed her senseless as he unclasped her bra. Her beautiful breasts appeared, her buds erect, ready for him to kiss them. Drake softly flicked his thumbs over them. Then his tongue tasted them, taking pleasure in the sight of Alexis arching her back for him. He took a deep breath until all he could smell was her cherry fragrance. With a cocky smile, he pulled down her last piece of underwear, leaving her completely exposed and vulnerable to him.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Lexie,” he groaned as his eyes wandered over her body lit up by the moonlight, and his calloused hands moved down her body, rubbing her face, her breasts, her hips, a trail of excited goosebumps appearing everywhere he touched. “And you are all mine.”

Alexis gave him a flirty smile. “I want to see you too, Drake.” She softly pushed him up until they were both on their knees.

The sight of her naked, kneeling in front of him and undressing him with nervous fingers, desperate to kiss him, to touch him too, almost killed him. She undid his jeans and let her hand wander around his cock. He drank in the sight of her, enjoying her soft, small hand around him for a moment. Her soft, skilled strokes on his impossible hard length felt incredible, but after all the months, the years they had spent apart, he wasn’t going to last long if she continued. “I won’t be able to resist much longer, baby.” He grabbed her wrist. “And there are a lot, a lot of things, I want to do to you first. Lay down,” he growled, standing up to toss off the rest of his clothes.

Alexis felt like she was on fire, ready to explode. Drake’s lips kissing her legs, her knees, and her inner thighs only made the fire wilder. She gripped the sheets when she felt his hot mouth on her, kissing the soft skin around her clit.

“It drives me insane how wet you already are for me, Lex,” he said, parting her lips with his tongue and softly entering her, inebriating himself with her taste.

“Drake, god! Drake,” she chanted again and again as his expert tongue and fingers explored her, thrust inside of her. Feeling the heat build more and more, she tugged his hair, making him smile against her warm skin. Finally, she reached a point of no return and screamed his name again.

Drake smirked. “Fuck, I’ve missed that, baby.”

Still panting, she managed to answer in a soft voice. “Me too, Drake.” Drake caught her lips in a slow, tender kiss as she came down from her high.

“Come here,” he whispered, scooping her and sitting her in his lap. Alexis straddled him, enveloping his torso with her legs. Cradling her with his arms, Drake’s desperate lips ravaged her neck, alternating soft kisses with small bites. Her back arched, giving him full access to her breasts that he cupped, his thumbs slowly circling her hard nipples again. Alexis rolled her hips against him.

Drake chuckled against her neck. “Are you trying to tell me something, Lexie?”

“I need you now, Drake,” she moaned. His cock was already throbbing, but he felt like he was going to burst at her words

“Whatever you want, Alexis.” He positioned himself with the tip of his dick, teasing the little nub of her center. “Look at me, baby. I want to see your pretty eyes as I enter you.”

She locked her burning eyes with him, and he grabbed her hips, confidently guiding her body to enter her folds slowly, giving her time to adjust to him.

The world, the moon, and the stars, everything around them faded. Each set of eyes only saw each other, reflecting the passion, the excitement, the deep love they felt.

“I love you, Lexie,” Drake whispered as he slowly moved inside of her, adoring her smell, the way she moved, how she moaned his name.

“I love you too, Drake,” Alexis whispered back, reveling in the sensation of him filling her completely. Of her heart racing with every delicious thrust. Of his strong arms holding her tightly, safely. Of his hands caressing her back. “I feel you everywhere, Drake, god.”

They rocked their hips at the same pace, increasing speed as their movements became more passionate, more desperate. He ground into her powerfully, feeling her walls tighten around him. The sensation was unbelievable, an exceptional connection that neither of them could ever experience with anyone else. “Come with me, baby,” he whispered as his hand reached her center, allowing his thumb to rub the little nub in it, making her lose her mind. Alexis couldn’t formulate a coherent thought, let alone talk, as the most intense wave of pleasure of her life came cresting over her. A powerful “Drake!” escaped her lips as she climaxed.

His name on her swollen lips and the way she was still vibrating against him pushed him over the edge.

“Mine, Lexie, mine,” he growled, marking her neck as he filled her in complete ecstasy.

He pulled her into his chest, both of them silently enjoying their descent from heaven.

He held her tightly, kissing the top of her head as he lazily rubbed her back, incapable to stop touching her.

“A penny for your thoughts, Lexie.”

She looked at him through her eyelashes, smiling.

“I was just thinking about how absolutely perfect this was.” She stroked his chiseled abs with her hand.

He smirked. “You’re perfect, baby. A fucking work of art.”

Alexis smiled against his chest, a pleasant feeling of utter happiness settling in her chest.

Part of the night was spent with tender whispers, passionate touches, and shared laughs. The rest, they spent rediscovering every nook and hidden corner of each other’s bodies as if they were trying to recoup the last five years in a few hours. Finally, the morning lights caught them sleeping tangled in each other’s bodies. Drake opened his eyes first, smiling as he hadn’t done in five years.

“Good morning, baby,” he whispered in her ear, waking her up.

“Nuh, uh, too early.” She hid her head under the pillow.

“You have to see this, Lexie. Wake up,” he said softly, kissing her bare back.

“God, I’ve forgotten how good you are at motivating a girl.”

Drake chuckled. “Come here.”

Wrapped in the sheets with Drake hugging her tightly from behind, Lexie sat on the porch in front of the lake, and she understood why he had woken her up. In front of her eyes, a sumptuous spectacle of pink, ochre and golden sun rays extended over the glowing lake. It was the most stunning sunrise she had ever seen.

“There’s something I need to tell you that might change your mind about us,” Alexis warned him cautiously. She bit her lips, feeling remorseful. She should have discussed it the day before, but selfishly, she had wanted to enjoy the night with Drake.

He almost laughed at the idea. “Nothing would change my mind, Lexie. Test me.”

She took a deep breath and let the sentence out as fast as she could. “I don’t know if I ever want any more children, but I don’t think so.” She carefully gauged his reaction as she asked. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered sincerely. “I didn’t for a long time; I was adamant. ” He looked tenderly at her. “Now, I’m not so sure, but I do know that the idea scares the shit out of me.”

Alexis let out a relieved breath. “Me too.”

“I’ll tell you this. We’ll revisit the idea in a few years, but we won’t do it unless we’re both sure. Deal?”

“And what if I don’t change my mind, and you do?” she asked worriedly.

“Then we won’t, Lexie. All I want out of life I have right here,” he said, holding her even tighter. “Nine years ago, in my vows, I told you that I loved the fire in your eyes and how much you love life. I told you that I would always take care of that gorgeous inner light of yours. But I didn’t do a great job.” Alexis was about to protest, but Drake put his thumb on her lips, smiling. "I promise that I’ll devote the rest of my life to making you happy. I’m so proud of you, of everything you are, Lexie. I love you more than I did back then, much more.” He opened his palm, where he had their wedding rings in his hand. “I always knew that one day we would be wearing these again, Mrs. Walker.”

Alexis beamed. “I love you, too. You have no idea how much. For years, I felt lifeless, and now just looking at you, my heart hammers, Drake. You take away the emptiness, the sadness. You make me so incredibly happy.”

A bittersweet tear escaped from her eyes when she extended her hand and watched, immensely moved, how Drake slid her wedding band and engagement ring on her finger. Then she put his on.

Relieved, she turned her head up and caught his lips in a delicious, deep kiss.

Drake noticed a small, tiny tear. “What’s up, Lexie?”

“I was really convinced that I could never feel this extremely elated again, and now that I do, I also feel …” She stopped in her tracks.

“Guilty. You feel guilty for feeling happy.”

She nodded slowly.

“Me too.” Drake rubbed her cheek with his hand. “I think we have to learn to live with that, baby. Tom will always be here. He’ll always hurt.”

Alexis snuggled against him as Drake drew her into his arms. A loving smile spread on her lips; no matter how difficult or painful their grief would be in the future, they would be facing it togther.

The End.

#tw child death #tw dark fic #tw grief #tw grieving #drake x mc #drake walker #axwalker writes #drake walker fanfic #alexis o'brien #n*sfw #n*fw

100 notes · View notes

starl1ght-child · 4 years

Text

Enthralled

Rezyl Azzir x F!Non-Guardian OC

Chapter 13 : Promises [ WC 2.1K ]

masterlist

Rilea was in the hospital for another three months following Twilight Gap. The broken vertebrae were taking the longest to heal and she was bedridden until they did. For a long while, she barely spoke. Temporary paralysis had taken everything from her: her life, her happiness, her faith. She wouldn’t be able to go back to work afterwards, she wasn’t even sure if she was going to walk. When the vertebrae did finally heal, she remained inpatient for weeks of physical therapy and rehabilitation. She had to relearn how to walk and regain strength in her back and legs.

Rezyl took some temporary leave from the Vanguard. He told them that after Twilight Gap, he had to rethink some of his priorities, and they did as well. But eventually, he started to get antsy. There was rage towards the Fallen that fueled his fire for revenge. Rilea would still have a life if not for the Fallen. She would still be able to walk. He spent much of the first month keeping her company in the hospital, but he wasn’t made for staying in place. And the longer he stayed out of the field, the longer his anger simmered.

Rilea knew that he was growing anxious staying in one place, so she assured Rezyl that she was fine. She was in good hands with the doctors here. He didn’t have to spend every waking moment with her. Just come visit every couple of days. And though he said he would, that was another empty promise. She realized that they were both alike in the sense of being workaholics. He only came to visit when he was home, and that was about once every five or six days.

And when he did visit, she started to notice small changes in his personality. He smiled less. He talked less. He seemed to be avoiding sleep, no matter how tired he was. Only a few times he had passed out, his head on her bed, clutching her hand. He started to become a little more physical, but not in a violent sense. He touched her more, caressed her more, he seemed to find comfort in the warmth of her skin.

But there was one thing she noticed the most.

He had stopped calling her “paramour.”

He came looking for her one day while she was in therapy, so he was shown to the rehab gym where she was working on walking. She had spent two weeks getting the strength in her legs back up. She was with a physical therapist on a straight track with two railings on the side for support. Adorned in loose pants and a tank top and sweating her ass off, short hair sticking to her neck and forehead, she caught sight of Rezyl standing by the door. There was a small smile on his lips as he started over to her. For a moment she was so excited to see him and tried to rush over to him; that she took her hands off the railing and she forgot she didn’t have the strength in her back to fully support herself yet. She sank down onto her knees, with a small groan of pain. Both he and the doc were at her side, but she brushed them both off. She grabbed onto the railings and pulled herself back onto her feet. She looked over at the doc and tilted her head, wordlessly asking for a few minutes alone. When the doctor walked away, Rezyl walked onto the ramp with her.

“You’re getting stronger,” Rezyl remarked. “Good.”

“Yeah, well, they won’t let me leave here until I can walk on my own again, so…” She gave him a strained smile. “I’m trying.”

He extended his hands. “Well, don’t let me stop you. Let’s keep going.”

Rilea looked at him with raised browns and half a smile. She took his hands and grasped onto them tightly while she tried to support herself. He slowly started walking backwards and she took some unsteady steps forwards, following his path.

“You know…” she started. “You’ve seemed a little distracted lately.”

He didn’t even bat an eye. “There’s a lot of work to be done, Rilea.”

She sighed softly. “I know. There’s always work.” She took a few more shaky steps. “Hopefully I’ll be walking on my own and out of here in a couple of weeks.”

“You shouldn’t rush your body, Ri,” he sighed. He looked down at her and tilted his . “I understand you want out of here, but you need to give yourself time.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. And took a few more steps. Her legs were shaking badly. “I-I need a break.”

He nodded and closed the gap between them, pulled her hand up to his shoulder then slid his arm around her back. He walked her over to the chair at the end of the ramp, supporting most of her weight until she was sitting down. She leaned back in the chair and the doctor came back over to give her a glass of water. She looked over at Rezyl to see a resigned look on his face. She leaned her head into his view and he met her gaze. She reached up and cupped his cheek; Rezyl’s hand came up and placed on top of hers.

“Hey… don’t look at me like that. I’m going to be alright.”

He sighed then reached up and ruffled a hand through her hair. “I know. You’re just as stubborn as I am.”

— — — — —

Five months to the day of her admission, Rilea was discharged from the hospital. She could walk on her own just fine, though she had a small limp now that was only noticeable when you were looking for it. She carried a pack over her shoulder of her belongings and let out a small sigh of delight when a light, late summer breeze brushed over her face and ruffled her short hair. When she got home, Rezyl wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but as she shut the door and set down her pack, she could hear the shower running. She smiled to herself as she snuck into the bedroom and changed out of the clothes she had been loaned from the hospital and into some of her own, something familiar for him. She quietly walked back out into the living area and sat down on the couch.

She heard the bedroom door open and she looked over her shoulder with a smile. Rezyl’s eyes widened when he realized that she was there. His Ghost immediately materialized out of thin air and circled around her head.

“Welcome home!” Amit chirped happily.

Rilea laughed as she stood. “Yes, I’m home.” She looked over at Rezyl and he still stood there, shocked. She walked over to him and took his hands. His hair was still wet from his shower.

“You’re home…” He murmured softly, his head tilting to take in her radiance. One of his hands lifted and cupped her cheek, thumb tracing over the old scar on her skin, index finger brushing over the new one in her hairline. “I saw you two weeks ago and you were still struggling.” She closed her eyes and sighed with delight as his fingers pushed through her hair until he held the back of her head. “You’re so strong…”

Rilea opened her eyes and gazed at him lovingly. “Rezyl…” She sighed softly. “We need to—”

He shushed her and leaned down, pressing his forehead on hers. “No… please, sweet girl, you’ve just come home. I haven’t been able to hold you in ages. Please… just let me have you… I just want to touch you…”

She wanted to open her mouth to protest, that she really needed to talk to him about how much he’s been changing. She just wanted to make sure he was alright. His hand slipped around her waist and gently pressed on her back, over the scar where the incision from her surgery was. The scar itself was still sensitive, but when his fingers touched it ever so gently, she nearly sank against him with the thrill that electrified her neurons. “You’ll always have me,” she murmured quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

As his hands slid down her sides to her hips and he effortlessly lifted her off her feet, Rilea pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck loosely. He kissed her with a sense of urgency and desperation, but she could feel his desire emanating off of him. His skin felt like it was on fire, his grip on her bottom was firm as he carried her into the privacy of their bedroom, his kiss was hot and fervent, his touch like sparks on her skin when he finally sat down on the bed with her in his lap.

“Rezyl,” she gasped when his broke from her lips and trailed kisses along her throat. He faltered for a moment, pausing his assault on her skin, his hands already halfway up her shirt. Rilea giggled lightly as she leaned her head back and pushed her hands into his damp hair. “Slow down… I’m staying right here…”

He let out a pent-up sigh and leaned his head on his shoulder, his lips pressing on her collarbone. “Sorry…” he mumbled in embarrassment. “I… I missed you… I think a lot more than I realized.”

She cupped his jaw with both her hands, lifted his face and smiled compassionately at him. “Then come home more… I know you’re trying to keep me safe from out there… but I feel safer when you’re by my side.”

He closed his eyes and leaned into her hands, one of his lifting and closing around her wrist. “All right…” he sighed. “I’ll try to be home every night… whenever I can…”

She smiled warmly and leaned forward, closed her eyes and pressed a kiss on his lips. “Good…”

— — — — —

They laid side by side, skin and hearts bared, cuddled in each other’s warmth, a tangled mess of limbs. Rezyl’s fingers danced up and down her skin, tracing over every scar, from the new ones on her spine and stomach, to the older ones on her shoulder and cheek. Rilea, exhausted from their make-up session and cuddled up with her back pressed against his chest, was nearly falling asleep against him. His hands finally settled her abdomen, gently rubbing circles on her skin. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t rest. There was one question on her mind that she wanted to ask.

“Hey, Rezyl?” She said softly, and he hummed in response. “Why’d you stop calling me ‘paramour’?”

He was silent for a moment, though he still continued to gently massage her skin. “Because you are no longer my paramour,” he started, but his hand slid up and covered her heart before she could respond. “You are my love. My greatest love. There’s nothing immoral about this love for me anymore. Twilight Gap made me realize that.”

She shifted in his arms and turned onto her other side. His hands aligned on her spine and pulled her close against his chest. “How so?”

“In the years I’ve known you, love, I had never felt more fear and anxiety thinking that I had lost you. I know…” He sighed and pressed his lips against the back of her neck. “I know I will lose you one day. But I wasn’t ready to lose you like that. I love you too much to let you go.”

“My years in this world are finite,” she whispered. “You and I have both known that from the moment we met, and yet you stayed with me. Through everything. Rezyl, I…” she looked up into his eyes, his beautiful emerald optics that had captured her from day one. “I love you, too.”

He gave her a small smile, leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get some rest, sweet girl.” She nestled against his chest while he ran his hand up and down her spine. But while his lover slept, Rezyl stayed awake. He was at war with himself. The Vanguard was flawed; they only fortified the wall after Twilight Gap, when it should have happened after six fronts. The Consensus was arrogant, especially the Speaker; who exiled Osiris because he was concerned about a Vex invasion, which the City was woefully unprepared for. And to make matters worse, he sent Saint-14 after Osiris, and he has since gone missing. His patience for the City’s “leaders” who sought “peace” was growing dangerously thin.

Tag List : @mail-me-a-snail

#destiny #destiny fic #destiny fanfiction #enthralled fic #dark age destiny #rezyl azzir #non-guardian oc #my oc #my writing #enthralled

5 notes · View notes

geminimoonbeamx · 7 years

Text

Electric Feel: Part One

A/N: Alright you guys so last night I re-watched the movie ‘Savages’. You know, the one with Quicksilver and Serena Vander-Woodsen in it? Yeah, it totally rekindled my love for Polyamorous relationships and after reading a fuck ton of amazing Stucky one’s this site, I decided I just had to write my own. This is going to be a short series. Only five or so parts of fluff and smut. Smut with plot, but smut none the less lol. Enjoy ya’ll. Steve/OC/Bucky

CURRENTLY ON HOLD. WILL RECONTINUE IN 2018

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Heavy mentions Panic disorder, Anxiety, Depression and use of Prescription Drugs. Mental health/illness will be a heavy topic in this one so if it triggers you, I’m sorry my beautiful buttercups but this story might not be the one for you. Cussing because I have the worst mouth and my vocab is made up of four letter words.

Story Summary: Y/N, an overworked plus size model, is struggling to balance her career and her worsening panic disorder. Moving into Avengers Tower, at her Aunt Peppers request, was supposed to relieve some of the stress. She never expected to find solace in the arms of not one, but both of the Towers resident super soldiers

✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dragging yourself across the lobby of ‘Avengers Tower’ you feel absolutely numb. The static in your head seemed far away, like a station you just couldn’t tune into. Not that you wanted to. No, you’d take this reprieve, this moment of nothingness happily. At least you felt like you could breathe, like your lungs we’re actually working again, doing the simplest of tasks.

Jesus. How sad is that? That your actually happy you could breathe normally? The most natural thing a human could do, and yet even that seemed like a heralding task to you lately.

“Hello Ms. Y/N” The receptionist at the circular desk greeted as you passed and on queue you forced a smile on your face.

You’d gotten good at it by now, so good, that the woman didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and went on with her work. Typing away at who knows what. It was nearly thirty minutes past 10. What could Tony have her working on so late? Whatever, you deduce. Whatever it was, you knew she was probably getting paid beautifully for it.

And wasn’t that the point of it all? What made the world go round?

Money is the reason we exist. Everybody knows it, it’s a fact. Kiss, kiss.

You recite to your self as you push your floor button on the elevator and lean back heavily on the rail. It’s only when the doors shut, leaving you in the solitary, boxed in space, that you let the smile fall off of your face, your cheeks felt relieved. The daily strain on your cheeks from holding that fake, plasticine smile sucked and as your face sagged you feel the most yourself.

“You have one major case of resting bitch face, kid” You remember Tony laughing at you years ago. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heart a thousand times before. Your features we’re naturally…sharp. Moody. Your full lips instinctively pulled down at the corners unless you were either A)genuinely smiling or B) putting on that mask that you’d perfected.

In your line of work, resting bitch face was both a blessing and a curse. That pout of yours, yeah it had scored you a lot of high end jobs. Shooting for A-list magazines with renound photographers. Making you a bit of a “hot commodity” in the modeling world. But it had also earned you a reputation. Everyone had this image of you; thought you we’re extremely bitchy and stuck up. It was already hard, working in the modeling community. Plus size modeling was just starting to boom, to become a norm but even you didn’t fit some of the major guidelines. At well over two hundred pounds and barley reaching 5'3, you we’re an unusual peice for the industry in the first place.

Having everyone think you we’re a high maintenance, hard to work with cunt- well that didn’t help either.

They just didn’t know you, which you almost laughed at because isn’t that what everyone’s excuse is? ‘They don’t know me, I’m so misunderstood’.

Fuck, you we’re a walking cliché, you chide yourself.

Most who met you tended to think you we’re “stuck up” because a good chunk of the time you we’re so stuck in your own head that you couldn’t focus on anyone around you. Trying to breath, trying to focus on anything but the near constant bubble of nervousness that never seemed to leave your stomach. Running through your therapists guide list on how to avoid your next panic attack.

In truth, when most got to know you they were honestly shocked at your goofy, nerdy nature. Those few people, who tried to delve under the surface, we’re greeted with a girl who could make a joke out of just about anything and would rather stay in bed and binge on Star Wars movies and buffalo wings(well maybe no one would be surprised about that your love of chicken wings, you think humorously. Bitterly)

It hadn’t always been this bad, you recite to yourself. It would get better, you encourage.

When you get to your floor, all you want to do is go to sleep. The thought of having to have to drone through any other kind of human interaction physically made you wince.

Most of the time, you didn’t mind the floor you we’re on. Actually, you quite liked your “floor mates”. Yeah, it had been a little weird at first being “bunked” with all guys, but you’d soon found that you wouldn’t have wanted to be placed anywhere else. Steve, Sam and Bucky we’re good to you, yeah they babied you a little and left messes in the living room, but you had your own hoard of annoying tendencies and still, they never treated you like anything but…family.

Like the older brothers you never wanted- while simultaneously being the little brothers you had DEFINATLEY never fucking wanted because Jesus Christ, who had left the empty Oreo package in the middle of the floor? You bend down, almost robotically, to pick it up.

Steve and Bucky are lounging on opposite sides of the long couch, watching some sports show that you didn’t really care to know. You barley notice them, and you really hope that they’re not going to notice you. That they’re too invested in the game on the mammoth flat screen-

“Hey, babydoll. How was work?”

No dice. Not that you’d really thought for a second they we’re just going to ignore your entrance.

The smile, that smile, you plaster on is almost painful.

They both look up at you, Bucky’s head slightly cocked as he waits for an answer.

“It was fine, I’m really tired though. I’m going to change”

To anyone else your tone would have sounded pleasant. Tired, but normal.

To Steve, it’s a big red flag. Gone is the usual bite in your voice, the giggle. The light. You sound…monotone. Like you weren’t really there at all. And that’s what really makes him look at you, take you in. The bags under your eyes are pronounced, even with the makeup that adorns your skin. Your posture is rigid and you look like you might strain a muscle just from standing there but it’s your eyes that confirm it for him. He’d seen that look in them many a time before. He feels the tug on his heart strings as you hurry out of the room.

When Steve turns his head to Bucky, the mans eyes are still glued on your retreating frame. But the look on his face matches the one Steve knew he himself was sporting.

You’d had another hard one. Another attack. Being ‘roomies’ with you meant that they we’re no stranger to your illness, they’d experienced first hand what you went through on a near day to day bases. Hell, Bucky went through his fair share of his own. But it never ceased to put a felling akin to stones in their throats to see you in that state

“I want to go check on her, man” Bucky announces “She looked real rough”

Steve shook his head. They’d been through this. The trial and error of it all.

“Nah, pal. You know she’ll freak out if you go after her right now…let her go cool off” Steve reminds his friend. Didn’t he remember the last time…it hadn’t gone over well.

Bucky sighs through his nose and nurses the beer bottle in his hand. He knew what it was like, what she was going through and it made it worse, the thought of her feeling even a fraction of the strain that he himself frequently endured had him tied in knots. He felt like he had to get up, and go to her. And check on her and make sure that she was playing on her phone like she liked to do, laughing at some meme he knew she’d show him later and not curled up in a corner.

He still winces at that mental image. When he’d found her in the kitchens with her hands over her eyes and her knees pulled up to her chest.

“I’m worried about her, too” Steve’s voice cuts through the silence. He can see the cogs working in Bucky’s head.

Bucky nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip. Yeah, he knew.

Knew that they we’re both royally fucked.

And had been for a while now. Because nothing good could come from the way that they both felt about you. He’d never really thought about it before. Maybe, even though it was a little screwed up, it was because back in the forties he could run circles around Steve when it came to girls. Back then he’d never be in competition with the him. Plus Steve had always loved dark haired dames and Bucky had a thing for Redheads, so he never really thought there would be a day when they a single woman caught both pairs of their eyes.

And then came you. When Bucky had learned Pepper’s niece was coming to live at the compound he’d never in his wildest dreams could have imagined you. All ass and sass and bambi eyes. All understanding touches and long talks in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep because your brains just wouldnt turn off. You seemed to understand him in a way that he didn’t even understand himself.

You’d snuck up on Bucky…

Steve was different. He’d met you a handful of times before you’d moved in. You were Peppers niece, after all, so you’d been around the tower. Never staying for long- just long enough to throw him that smile. To flip your sheet of hair over your shoulder and be the sweetest thing he’d ever encountered. You rotted his teeth. You brought out the side of him, the one that was foreign to everyone but Bucky.

You hadn’t snuck up on Steve. You’d hit him like a god damn freight train.

And it yet no one was willing to admit it, even though it was nearly palpable. The three of you went on, holding onto a friendship that seemed to keep all of you a float.

Because Bucky needed Steve. It wasn’t a fact he was ignorant to. He needed his best friend if he had any hope of ever truly getting back to the man he’d once been and Steve needed him back. The only link he had to his true self. To the man behind the shield.

So, they kept it unspoken. They didn’t even talk about it to each other, which if you knew Bucky and Steve you’d know was in-fucking-sane because those two told eachother EVERYTHING. Neither of them we’re willing to risk the century long friendship.

Hell no…

But did they really even have to say it? Steve witnessed the way you touched Bucky, your hands trailing over him in something liken to worship and Bucky noticed the way you sought out Steve. The way you needed him, the way you looked at him like he was the sun.

Funny thing? It didn’t make either of them jealous, there was no animosity. No hurt feelings just…need.

Need of what? Neither of them knew.

And so, almost simultaneously, they both tipped their beer bottles back heavily, the screen illuminating their faces. They could lie to themselves. But they never did get the hang of lying to each other.

You stand in the shower for what feels like ages, allowing the scorching water to rush over you. Trying to practice those visionary exercises you’d worked on in therapy. Letting all of the negativity swirl down the drain. When you exit the glass, walk in shower you feel a little better. When you go to your bedside table and pop one of the tiny, yellow pills in your mouth, that helps even more. You’d learned long ago to take your medicine. You would question taking Dayquil when you had a could, so why would you do that in this case?

You didn’t need to feel ashamed for having to use medicine. You repeated yourself that daily, still. It was such a stigma, you we’re still working through it.

You pull a pair of sliky pink pajama shorts up your curvy legs. They we’re your favorite ones, the little cactus’ print always made you smile and then threw on an oversized grey sweater, the one you’d had for years. The littering of holes on the bottom of the sleeves was just proof to your immense love for it. You then brushed through your mess of wet hair, getting out all of the snarls, working through the small kinks before you slathered on your face serum’s and body lotions.

You had to do this.

Because your job required you to take care of your appearance and because your therapist assured you that taking care of yourself even when you felt low was one of the keys to happiness. To getting through it…and you would get through it.

When your finish your nightly routine you stare at yourself in the vanity mirror for a minute or two or five.

You look like a fucking eleven year old without makeup. Your face child like without the sharp eye liner of defining bronzer. But there was a prettiness to you, your eyes seemed even (e/c)er. You shake out your hair, watching the still damp tendrils fall across your shoulder before slipping into a pair of slippers, feeling good enough to go and scower the fridge because your tummy was growling viciously and you knew it was a shit idea to let those pills kick in on an empty stomach.

Your not surprised to see Steve and Bucky still immersed in their game- or maybe it’s a different game because this one looks like hockey and you could have sworn the other was baseball.

“What'er you guys watching?” You inquire, just to start a conversation, as you walk across the living room.

Your voice is still worn out, but you look better. Like you always do after showering off the long day.

“The Rangers game. We’re gettin’ our asses handed to us” Bucky gruffs, taking a look-see at you. Your hairs long down your back, your swimming in that old sweater of yours and your face is bare. Just like he likes you best.

“Hey, have a little faith! We can still pull through” Steve urges and you giggle as you open the stainless steel fridge door.

“We got you an order of those perogi’s you like from Kinga’s” He tells you just as your eyes land on the white take out box and you thank whatever creation there might be for your boys.

“Mmm, thank you kindly sirs” You pop them in the microwave “Sam still on that mission?”

It been a week and you we’re starting to get a little worried. You knew him, Nat and Thor could more then handle themselves but you we’re starting to really miss his booming jokes. His dirty laundry basket in the hallway, not so much. You’d almost killed yourself on that thing in the middle of the night too many times.

“Yeah, don’t worry, he’ll be back on Friday. Unfortunately” Bucky hollers to you and you just roll your eyes and chuckle. Those two pretended to hate each other, but really you’d heard Bucky questioning the bird mans return this morning. No one brewed a pot of coffee like Sam.

When you come back to the living room, your hands full; the take out box in one and a glass of that green tea blend that you could never get either of them could drink because apparently it tasted like grass, it’s no shock that you plop down in the middle of them.

It would have been weirder if you had chosen to sit on one of the empty couches.

It was just normal for you now, your place between them and the comfortable conversation that ensues feels like home. You ask about how their day had gone, wanting to hear details from both about what they’d done for the duration of it. And then, they ask about yours.

To anyone else, even your Aunt Pepper, you probably would of lied. Would have told a wound a nice story about how the shoot had been so amazing. The team, the outfits. The set.

And that was true. Partially. But you don’t tell them the partial truth. You never do.

“I mean it was okay-” Bucky shoots you a knowing look and you sigh “The photographer was really intense. I mean he’s known for that, his crazy antics make for some kick-ass shots but that plus the lights that were set up was all just really…sucky”

You admit, quirking your mouth and swirling your tea. Steve reaches over, his big scorching palm coming to rest on your shoulder. The weight of it reassuring.

“I just feel- ugh fuck, you know? Like I cant go running away every time set gets a little loud or they shine a weird light in my eyes”

“But you didn’t run away right? You stayed and finished it” Steve’s voice is gentle- but not in that annoying clinical way. No, it’s easing the push, it’s encouraging not belittling.

“Yeah. After I had a minor breakdown in my changing room” that was an understatement, you recall the way you’d grasped at your chest. The way all the air in the room had seemingly gone out.

“Then? That’s an impressive feat all on it’s own, sugar” He continues on and you shake your head, poking at your perogi. Unable meeting either of their eyes.

“I’m just thinking maybe I’m not cut out for this anymore” It was so, so hard to admit that. To admit that maybe it was time to change your dreams, to let go of what you’d wanted for so.

Bucky’s chest aches for you, the empathy he feels in that moment is immense, he cant help but reach out. His hand going to you thigh, his thumb rubbing little circles into the smooth, plush skin as he talks.

“Why? Even when you felt awful you stayed put. Listen, doll, anyone who knows you knows how much you want this…I mean you we’re born for the camera, just look at that face- you roll your eyes and he chuckles- Not to mention if you don’t have a professional taking em’ your just going to sit in your room and take a thousand of those selfers anyway. Might as well get paid for your troubles ”

That makes you laugh hard and you tilt your head to him “Selfies, Bucky! God, you’re so old”

They have a way of doing this- making you feel better. Making it all melt away, even if it’s just for those moments when the three of you are huddled together. You dream of this shit, no joke. Of the feeling of both of their hands on you like they are now.

“You wound me, doll” Bucky melodramatically holds his chest leaning back into the couch, not moving his hand.

You continue eating, your stomach feeling more settled. You close your eyes and moan at the heaven sent explosion of favor.

“Mmm, Stevie, taste this” You urge as you stab one of the potato dumplings and hold it out to the lighter haired man, your hand underneath it incase it spilled over. Steve grins and opens his mouth wide and inviting as you pop the entire thing in.

“Amazing, right?”

“Uh, huh ‘real ‘ood” he says around the mouthful of food and you and Bucky both chuckle.

“Don’t hurt yourself there, punk” Bucky teases and Steve reaches across you to swat at his shoulder.

“Jerk”

Your more then used to them being hundred year old children “Alright boys let’s watch something that doesn’t make my brain bleed, yes?”

There’s a few moans and groans of protest, from the both of them, but in the end they do what they always do; give you what you want. You’re vaguely aware of your power over the two men and you deviously think how dangerous it is to have them at your beck and call. You end up making them watch ‘The Men in Black’ with you because “It’s a classic, oh my gosh I cant believe you guys have never seen this before” and of course you fall asleep twenty minutes in.

When people talk about anxiety attacks, they don’t ever mention how they physically drain the life out of you. The exhaustion that comes with them.

You end up sprawled out, your head resting on a pillow in Steve’s lap and your legs tangled with Bucky’s as he stretched out on the opposite side of you. Not an unusual positon for the three of you to contort into.

Steve plays with the near dry tendrils of your hair idly, he can feel your short, puff like breaths on his thigh. Bucky’s vibranium hand rests on your leg, where knee meets thigh, the warmth of your sweet smelling skin radiating off of you. It’s peace, the one sliver of peace it seems that you all will ever find.

“Steve” Bucky speaks first. He’s always been the bolder of the two. He’d known he was going to have to be the one to speak up sooner or later.

“Yeah?” Steve can hear it in his voice. Knows what’s coming.

“You love her” it’s not a question or an accusation. Just a statement.

“So do you” Is all Steve can think to retort and Bucky just sighs and nods wordlessly.

Will Smith fights aliens on the TV screen as they both acknowledge what they’d known wouldn’t stay unspoken.

“Ya’ know our lives would be a hellava lot easier if these guys really existed” Steve’s eyes narrow as he drinks in the film. Bucky’s snort fills the room. Aint that the truth.

There’s a moment of silence where they let the movie play, where your little wheezes and extraterrestrial battle sounds fill the living room.

“Your Agent K and I’m agent J” Bucky smirks, knowing his little comment is going to grate his best friend. Steve’s head snaps in his direction.

“That’s a load of crap, your older then me!”

“In years, yes. In spirit-”

“Fuck off, Bucky”

And even in your sleep state, you manage to be a smart ass. Because even though Steve cursed around you plenty, you’d grown up on those tapes of him that they played in school. And the cussing one had always stuck with you. “Language cap'n” you mother incoherently.

They both look like their eyes might pop out of their heads.

——————-

Okay guys I hope you liked this first part! I’m still trying to figure out the dynamic I want for the three of them, but I think I’ve got it. Please give me feed back, because I live on that shit. It’s the air I breathe. If you want to be tagged, let me know!😬💛

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnesxreader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers smut #mcu smut #plus size reader #pepper potts #stucky x reader

260 notes · View notes

canitakeyourpain · 6 years

Text

Chapter 03 – She Might She Might

Clara opens her eyes, she has turned in the night, and sees that Daniel is still sleeping, “Is he really gay? He was aroused when I came in. Maybe he was reading a gay romance.” She looks up, the reading lamp is still on, and the sun is peering through the window above the bed. She sees the book lying on the shelf above them, and carefully reaches up. She first flips the switch to turn off the reading lamp, watching him to see if he wakes. She takes the book and looks at the cover, Journey Westward. She looks inside the book, “It definitely isn’t a romance. It is about a group of settlers trekking to get away from the Civil War.” She places the book back, slowly slides out of the bed, and picks up her nightgown, looking back at him as she returns to the other room.

Clara starts the shower, “Maybe I should just skip this and leave.” She enters the warm shower and relaxes. The hot water cascading down her skin, at first bringing goosebumps, but the soothing flow brings her into thought, “Should I wake him? Am I ashamed of what we did? I didn’t have any bad dreams, what a relief.” As she washes her hair, she talks out loud to herself, “I’ll get dressed and leave him a note. You need to stop talking to yourself. You might start answering and chuckles. She dresses, packs her suitcase, enters the hallway, and sees the door to the other room is still closed. As she starts down the stairs, hears someone quietly moving around in the kitchen.

Daniel slowly opens his eyes, can feel the sun shining through the windows. He feels like he has experienced something as never before. He looks over, finds the other side of the bed empty, sits up slowly, and the pain has returned. It is at a level he can tolerate, and moves his legs over the edge of the bed. The door is closed, so he relaxes himself, gathering his energy, and slowly rises to his feet. He feels a little uncoordinated but he’s able to stay on his feet, takes his robe from the hook on the bathroom door, and puts it on. Going past the guestroom, the door is closed, hears the shower running inside. He smiles thinking “At least she didn’t run away.” He goes back to his room, pulls out a pair of fresh jeans and shirt from the closet. It is a little difficult to pull the jeans up his legs, but he manages to dress himself. He carefully goes into the hallway and walks down the stairs holding tightly to the railing. He makes his way into the kitchen, starts making some coffee, and also puts a pot of water on for tea.

A few minutes later, Daniel hears Clara’s footsteps coming down the staircase. She is fully dressed and looks like she is ready to leave. She comes in the kitchen and sets her suitcase by the door. He asks, “How are you feeling this morning? Would you like some breakfast?” She responds, “I am feeling good. I have no pain, but I should be going.” He frowns and looks her in the eyes, “I see some fear and relief in your eyes.” She sees his sadness and pain, “Okay, I will stay for a couple of minutes.” He responds, “I’d like to talk. I don’t get many visitors. I think we need to discuss last night. Would you like coffee or tea?” She responds, “Some coffee, please,” as she sits in the chair closest to the door. He pours a cup of coffee and sets it in front of her, “Sugar or milk?” She shakes her head, “Black is fine.” He inquires, “I could make you something to eat. I am pretty much a vegetarian though.” She responds, “That’s okay, what did you want to talk about?” He asks, “I would like to know a little bit about you. You said you used to be a nurse. What do you do now?” She takes a breath and then takes a drink from her coffee and starts.

Clara starts, “After my accident, it took me three years to walk well enough again. I finished High School and I wanted to help others, so I went to a nursing school for three years. After that I got a job in a hospital, but after two years or so, the pain was too much for me. A Pharmaceutical representative for the hospital heard that I was looking to do something else, and so was he. He said his company was always looking for new people and he could put in a good word for me. I told him thank you, but no thank you. I found that my driving to work always relieved some of the pain. The rhythm of the driving helped, so I contacted the company directly, and was hired. I was here in town working yesterday. What do you do?”

Daniel smiles, “From what happened last night, you could call me a Physical Therapist. Other than that, I am semi-retired.” Clara asks, “At your age?” He answers, “I have also had some medical training for my line of work. So sometimes I do contract work.”

Clara is silent for a moment sipping her coffee. She continues, “Last night you said I am the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met. Most men call me a freak or a mountain they would like to climb.” Daniel responds, “First thing, I would never want to lie to you. Second, I would never say something like that to you. Anyone that would, isn’t worthy of even knowing you. Wait a moment while I get something,” as he gets up, leaves the kitchen, and returns with a book. He opens the book, sets it in front of, and sits back down across from her.

Clara looks at the open page and shakes her head, “What am I supposed to see?” Daniel responds, “What I saw when I first saw you yesterday, when I saw the complete you. If you lived two thousand years ago, these statues would have been of you. I see you in them. Beauty has changed with time; the form of the body has been redefined with the passing of time. But people still see beauty in these statues, and you have that quality.” She blushes and looks down at the table. Thinking a minute, Daniel asks, “Aren’t you interested in what happened last night?” She responds, “Yes, but I am a little scared.” He calmly responds, “Then let’s start slow. Do you have any questions for me?” She asks, “You said you are a Healer, what exactly is that? And what is a Safe Room?”

Daniel starts, “There have been at least two movies based on my…condition. One was based on a book.” Clara responds, “I haven’t seen them, but have heard of the book.” He starts again, “Well, one of the characters could heal injuries or illness by touching someone.” She asks, “How?” He responds, “Nobody really knows but it is true.” She asks, “Are there more of you.” He answers, “Yes, as I said last night the chances are one in a billion, and there are only seven or so in the world at any given time. We have to rid ourselves of those injuries or illnesses as well. It takes time, but our healing can be accelerated by using what we call a Safe Room. If you were to get to know me, I would show it to you. But you haven’t too much time; I see and feel that you need to leave.” She sips her coffee and her brows arch.

Clara looks at Daniel quizzically, “What else happened?” He responds, “Well, when it happens, it doesn’t choose what to heal. Your back was not the only problem that needed to be healed. The accident also left you barren. That, I think, is why you were so aroused. You have high-blood pressure and you had a small fracture in your right hand.” She flexes her hand and remembers, “There is no pain. I remember hitting that jerk who touched me.” She looks at him again, as he continues, “When you get home you should check with your doctor and have him test your blood pressure, if you take any pills for it, they wouldn’t be necessary anymore. Your back, if you go to a Chiropractor, tell him you fell and it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Clara asks, “Do you do this healing often?” Daniel looks embarrassed, “Never like last night, and I only do it here for people in town. Normally I go out of town to do it for other people. I also don’t go to bed with the people I help.” She asks, “You don’t have sex with them?” He responds, “The last time I have been intimate is when I was around thirteen.” She asks, “How old are you now?” He replies, “I am twenty-eight.” He looks a little sad, “To me I have a distinction. I believe in two types of intimacy, one is sex and the other is making love. I didn’t have sex last night. I made a promise to myself that if I were to be intimate with someone again, it would be someone who I would make love to.”

She questions, “What is the difference?” He responds, “To me, sex is more an act and a person satisfying their own lust. Mainly one or the other thinks about their own satisfaction. Making love, to me, isn’t being intimate for the sake of satisfying one’s lust. If a person is pleasing the other so much that you yourself feel it in your partner. That you both hopefully feel as one. I don’t know how you felt, but to me, just being with you, I felt your soul, and it felt free and satisfied. It can also happen for just one of the two I guess.”

Clara looks at Daniel a second, and smiles. Her look goes over his shoulder and she asks, “Your niece, Katie, she is nice.” He answers, “She’s not really my niece. Susan, her mother and I grew up together. She’s my best friend, and since both of us were the only children, we became like brother and sister. We were born only a week apart. Some of the kids in school called us the Twins. I have known Katie since she was two. I have helped raise her and changed her diapers. I occasionally tutor her with her studies. Susan’s husband Richard is in the Army and has to deploy every so often. I watch over them, they are family, but let’s get back to us. I would like to know you better. Can I ask you about your parents?” Her face turns sad, looking down at the table top again, frowns, and she turns silent. She looks away, and he sees more sadness in her eyes as she turned, “Please forgive me, I see that it is painful for you. I am sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

Daniel looks at Clara, “I have only known you since yesterday. I can see that you are a caring person, and you would be a good nurse. No, you are a good nurse. Many would have probably run away last night. You stayed and wanted to help me. To be a nurse is something that gives back and makes you happy. Now I hope that you go back helping others.”

Clara finishes her coffee and sets the cup down. Daniel reaches out to touch her hand, she pulls it to her lap, “I want to thank you, but I need to go.” He responds, “I never ask for any thanks for what I do. I just like to know the people I help do something good with their second chance, and hope that they are happy. I will walk you to the door, but before you go, I have to ask you to keep my secret.” She asks, “Why? You could help so many people?” He responds, “Yes I could, and I do as much as I can. If people knew, there would be thousands of people in front of the house, begging to be healed. It does take a toll on me and I would have to leave my home. There are people in town I help, they keep my secret, and keep me safe.”

Daniel and Clara stand up at the same time looking at each other’s posture. She takes the handle of her suitcase and turns it to go down the hallway. They walk down the hallway to the front door; he opens the unlocked door, and steps out onto the porch. She follows him and he turns around. He asks, “Can I ask a favor?” She has a slight smile, “Yes, if I am able.”

Katie is on her lawn watching Clara and Daniel. They don’t see her there, staring at them. Katie is smiling, her eyes bright with questioning looks. He continues, “Can I have a kiss?” She moves up to him, their eyes lock. They both see the sadness in each other’s eyes, and he is feeling a little dejected. She moves closer, and he kisses her on the cheek. As he starts to pull away, she gently brings up her hands, caresses his face, looks deeper into his eyes, slowly brings her face forward, and kisses him. It seems to last forever and his knees shake, as she pulls back, and smiles. She turns and walks back down the steps. He calls out, “I would love to see you again.”

Clara makes no motion to turn and look back at Daniel. Moving toward the car, Katie comes up and holds her free hand. They walk down the sidewalk together. Katie asks, “Did he help you?” She responds, “I am Clara, and yes.” Katie beams, “I saw you kiss Uncle Daniel. I think he’s in love.” She asks, “Why do you think that?” Katie answers, “He’s never kissed someone he’s helped before.” She inquires, “Never?” Katie answers, “Nope, and he doesn’t get many visitors anymore.”

Getting to the car, Clara opens the trunk of the car, lifts the suitcase, feeling no pain for the first time in ten years, puts the suitcase in, and closes the trunk. She moves to the front of the car, sees that Daniel is still standing on the porch, and he is a little unsteady on his feet. He has a slight smile on his face, but he looks sad. Katie sees this, turns to her, “Are you going to come back?” She starts to gingerly get in the car as she normally would, but feeling no pain, she gets in, and then closes the door. She rolls the window down to say goodbye. Katie puts her arms on the door frame, leans in, “I know you are coming back,” as she leans in further and kisses her on the cheek. She is astonished by the affection. Katie giggles as the kiss tingles, and hands her a slip of paper, “This is my number; he doesn’t like to answer his phone. You can talk to me; I am going to write a book about him.” She smiles and Katie continues, “He loves you and so do I,” as she steps back from the car. Clara looks at Katie and then starts the engine, puts it in gear, and slowly starts to drive away. Looking back she sees Katie waving, and then looks over at the porch, but he is no longer there. She is heading back to Spokane, and it is going to be a long trip home. She cannot stop thinking about last night, and Daniel.

#gwendoline #Clara&Daniel #Book #Breeden #Clara #Daniel #Pain #Christie #Skyler #Patrick #Wolf

1 note · View note

pupsandnubs · 4 years

Text

The past two days we have had 2 “couples” sessions with our respective therapists

And I find such irony in the “couples” part

Yesterday I was okay going through everything with your therapist, it almost served me just as well. She asked all the appropriate questions, and in my weird little mind I felt compelled to speak my truth even though I so desperately wanted to protect it.

I was naked. Vulnerable. Open. And I hated every part of it. I have no secrets left, I have nothing that is mine to protect. You even have all my letters now.

Today I did the same with my therapist, but today I was frustrated. I was angry. I was hurt by the things said because it took me back to a place where I felt cornered and strangled by my own words and feelings. Nothing about me should be “nonchalant” nothing about me should be “eh whatever”, nothing about me should be “I don’t give a fuck”

I am worth so much more. Anyone should be lucky to have me, lucky to be with me. I should be a choice.

I felt like I was being chastised and patronized for being the one with feelings.

The question has never been “how does Cristi feel about everything” because we all knew I’ve been pretty black and white about it. And BECAUSE of that I was smothered into silence and kept silent about it. I don’t bring it up with you, I know where you stand. I’ve known your feelings before you do for the majority of this “relationship” of ours.

At certain points, I broke my OWN heart before you ever could. Maybe it’s a self deprecating thing, self sabatoge, a defense mechanism— whatever. I get it. But I was just so annoyed by things that were talked about today.

I feel like therapy shouldn’t have necessarily been the first place that you admitted that sex was more than *just* sex with me. Or that kissing meant something to you. Or that you had thought about your feelings towards me. Do I want to know these things? Yes. But I felt like I was put on a stage while you recited this and I was forced to display my reactions in front of an audience. I felt like such vulnerable moments should be shared safely. Not that my therapist appointment isn’t safe, but it did feel like an attack on my most intimate moments.

And I didn’t find it fair that both therapists only had questions for me. Like it was okay that Khalid had zero feelings or intentions, but since poor Cristi does, let’s just dive into her.

I know what I want, I know what I don’t. I know what I’m willing to put myself through, and the consequences of doing so.

I know that loving you is a risk. I know that waiting for you is a risk. I know that if you don’t want to be with me it will hurt, I know that it’ll change my dynamic with you for a little while as I process the hurt. But those are my choices to make while you “figure out how you feel.”

Honestly, what difference does it make. I had to sit on the sidelines knowing you dumped me to go rail Naomi. I had to hear about it. I had to give you advice about it. I had to sit post Naomi and listen to how you were desperate to get your dick wet again, about how hot this girl was. I had to go through your dating app profiles for you. I was that “bro” for you. I was your wingman. Who does that?

I handed you Thalia. I encouraged you to explore her/the relationship. I even got you back together. I coached you through mending what had been damaged.

So I would appreciate if people would stop telling me what kind of “hurt” I can or cannot handle. I have handled it all since day 1 with you and I’m sure I can navigate through the rest of this as you finally figure out what I am to you.

And yes.

You can share all of this with your therapist. Maybe she can help figure us out.

0 notes

fromstraykids · 7 years

Text

awkward encounters | school series 1

characters: you x kang daniel

summary: a series of events that involve an extreme cat lover and a dog enthusiast

quote: “opposites attract”

school series: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

3:30 pm – moving into a new apartment near campus

Sophomore year of college meant moving out of the cramped dorm and into a new apartment near your college campus. By the time you had unfinished packing and settled into your new apartment, you were starving and there wasn’t any food in the fridge except for a couple bottles of water and leftover food from when you had dinner with your family. Grabbing your keys, you decided that going to a nearby grocery store was the best way to fulfill your hunger.

4:00 pm – coming back from buying several bags of groceries

Coming back from the grocery store, you had enough food to last you through the week, however, buying that much food required you to haul several bags of cup noodles, snacks, soft drinks, and bakery goods from your parking garage to the elevator. Tapping the ‘3′ button on the elevator you set down the bags on the floor and reached into your bag for your keys. You reached your floor and tried to open your door. It didn’t work. You tried again, thinking you inserted the key wrong but again, the door wouldn’t open. At your third attempt, you were wondering if you went to the right door. A few seconds later, your thoughts were correct.

“Excuse me?” you turned around and faced a boy who had brown hair and was carrying a backpack, probably coming back from the gym. A string of curses entered your thoughts as you realized that you went to the wrong apartment and that apartment had to belong to a handsome guy that was probably your age. And this is why you’re single, you thought.

“I-I’m-” new? lost? sorry? You didn’t know which to say, so you decided to jumble them. “I’msorryI’mkindanewhereandIforgotifmyapartmentwas312or311,” you blurted. A flash of confusion entered his face and left as fast as it came when he understood what you had just said.

“Oh, you’re the new neighbor! The doors here do look similar, don’t they?” he asks before an idea enters his mind. “Hold on for a sec.” He unlocks the door to his apartment and goes in for a few seconds before coming out with a cat sticker. He then pastes the sticker under the peephole. “Now you know which apartment is mine and which is yours.”

“Thanks, I guess I don’t have to spend a week going to the wrong apartment now,” you thanked. You two stand in awkward silence for a few more seconds before he speaks up.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Kang Daniel,” he introduces and holds out his hand for you to shake.

“y/n,” you say as you shake his hand. Another moment of silence falls upon you two before you speak up this time. “I should probably get going, you know, to cook dinner.”

“Oh yeah, I should probably go, too. My cats are probably hungry, I guess I’ll see you in the future. Bye!” he waves and goes into his apartment.

You went to the door labeled ‘311′ and tried your key in it and your door had clicked opened instantly. You quickly entered your apartment while cursing yourself for being an idiot.

8:30 am – first day of the fall semester

Chemistry book? Check. Notebook and pencils? Check. Coffee with four shots of espresso? Check. Bus card? Check. Keys? Check. Laptop? Check.

You placed all the materials in your backpack and left your apartment. The bus stop was right outside your apartment building so you took your time getting down. You entered the elevator and pressed the ‘L’ button.

“Wait!” you heard as blocked the doors from closing with your hand. A familiar face enters the elevator as he too was carrying his backpack. He lets out a sigh of relief as the elevator doors close. “Almost thought I had to take the stairs today.”

You smile awkwardly at his response and kept quiet. “So, what major are you?” he asks.

“Public health, you?” The elevator dings as you two reached the lobby and walk out together.

“Zoology,” he replies. “Public health, huh? Are you going to be a doctor? Nurse? Nutritionist?”

“Physical therapist,” you clarify as you two step out and walk to the bus stop. The bus usually gets at the stop at 8:40 and it was 8:37.

“So if I ever sprain my hand or leg while working out, you’ll be able to heal me?” he asks jokingly.

“We’ll see about that,” you joke back as the bus arrives earlier than scheduled. Daniel lets you walk in first as more students had gathered at the bus stop. The bus had no seats when you had entered so you resorted to holding the rail.

“Since you’re a zoologist, what’s your favorite animal? Oh, wait lemme guess, cats?” you guessed as the bus began to move.

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” he laughs. It was the first time you noticed how his eyes would crinkle when he laughs.

“I don’t know, I mean it’s not you had a pack of cat stickers on standby and a cat key chain,” you motion at the key chain hanging on the zipper of his black backpack.

He laughs again. “What about you? What’s your favorite animal?” he asks.

“I’m definitely a dog person. I have a Shiba Inu back in my parent’s house, he’s only 4,” you reply, opening your phone to see if you can find a picture of your dog. You find one from a few months ago when you visited your hometown for summer vacation and show Daniel.

“Aw, he’s cute, hold on,” he turns on his phone and shows you his lock screen. “I have two cats, too. They’re Rooney and Peter.”

The rest of the bus ride ending up with both of you rambling on about topics and activities you both liked. However, Daniel’s stop came first, leaving you alone on the bus for a few minutes before your stop arrived.

By the time your lecture finishes, you were starving and decided to hit up a nearby cafe for lunch. After you order and receive your food, you decide to sit somewhere near the window. Halfway through your meal, Daniel walks into the cafe with a friend by his side.

“Oh, it’s y/n!” he greets while pointing at the seat, asking to sit. You gesture for him to sit as his friend waits in line to order. “How are you?”

You gesture at your food. “Hungry.”

He lets out a chuckle. “I bet, those one-hour lectures are killer. I’m absolutely dreading the 3-hour ones next semester.”

You two talk for a while before his friend comes to the table with a coffee cup holder and a tray filled with food. “Did you buy everything off the menu or something?” Daniel asks, looking at the pile of food in amazement. “It’s enough for a Thanksgiving feast, are you sure it’s for two people? Did you invite your whole family today without me knowing?”

You laugh as Daniel continues to fire more questions at his friend. “I’m hungry today, what do you expect? I almost filled another tray, if not for the barista.”

“Just hungry? You’re that hungry to buy FOUR ham sandwiches?” Daniel points at the hot sandwiches. “I mean, they look good, but still! Four. Ham. Sandwiches.”

“And I paid for them, eat up before I start charging you for bite you take.” His remark shuts up Daniel as Daniel reaches for a ham sandwich and grabs his chai latte.

“Oh yeah, I’m Seongwoo, by the way,” Seongwoo introduces himself to you. “And I promise, I’m not like this all the time.”

“Yeah, he’s worse.” Daniel’s eyes crinkle up as he laughs loudly. Seongwoo hits his back as he mutters “this guy”.

You introduce yourself as you take a bite out of your toast and Seongwoo switches onto another topic, such as the cute barista working the shift. When the three of you finish your lunch, Daniel offers to walk you back to your apartment, since you two are neighbors. “Sure, leave me and go hang out with your new girlfriend. I’ll have fun with my pile of food,” Seongwoo nags, before cracking a smile. “You are his girlfriend, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widen at his sudden question and immediately shake your head. “We’re just neighbors,” you defend.

“What she said,” Daniel agrees. “Just good friends.”

Seongwoo eyes you two suspiciously before nodding his head. “Alright, I guess. I’ll see you guys Wednesday!” He waves goodbye and starts walking in the opposite direction of you two.

“Your friend is weird,” you say once Seongwoo is out of view.

“I don’t disagree.”

8:25 am – two weeks later

When you open your door, Daniel was already standing by it, holding two cups of coffee. “Four sugar and four milk. Just how you like it.” Daniel hands you the cup of coffee as you two walk towards the elevators.

“What’s the catch?” you say as you take the cup and eye him suspiciously.

Daniel tilts his head. “Catch? There’s none.” You continue to eye him suspiciously before he raises his hands in defeat. “Alright. Seongwoo’s dragging me to this double date thing – it’s so stupid – but I can’t back out and I kinda...”

“Need a date?” Daniel nods shyly. You contemplate his offer – should you go on a date with a guy you just met months ago or not? Then again, you two had grown closer over the last few months and he was regularly walking you to and from class. “Okay, I’ll do it. But I expect you to do me a favor in the future.”

“Anything, I promise. Thank goodness, I won’t be third wheeling him.” As Daniel lets out a sigh of relief, the elevator doors open.

“As long as it’s not some super fancy dinner at a five-star restaurant, I’m good.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a trip to movies. He said that he reserved the tickets for 9:30 on Saturday, but we both know that he’s all talk. so I’ll text you on the day.” The elevator door dings open as you two walk out to the bus stop.

“Alright, I guess it’s a date.” Daniel blushes at the word ‘date’ but doesn’t say anything about it.

8:45 pm – ‘date’ night

By the time you finished getting ready, Daniel knocked on the door. “Ready?”

He was dressed in a black bomber jacket over a plain white shirt and blue ripped jeans. His light brown locks were hidden under a black baseball cap. Despite the fact that this was what he would usually wear to school, his aura went from ‘tired college student’ to ‘romantic nineteen-year old’. You didn’t realize you were gaping at him until he starts waving his hand in front of your face. “Uh, yeah.”

You made sure to lock your door before walking with him to the elevator. “You look really pretty tonight.” You look up at Daniel, whose head was facing the floor with a hint of a blush on his face.

You give him a shy smile before you compliment him, too. “You look handsome tonight, too.” Well, you always are.

9:20 pm – movie theaters

The ride to the cinema was filled with small talk and laughs as you two began to reveal secrets to each other. Such as when Daniel told you how to misgendered his cats. Twice. In a row.

“And there was a time where Jisung said that an angel was falling when he slipped on ice,” he laughs as he recalls the memory. He stops laughing and points to another couple. “Oh! There they are! I wonder if they bought our tickets too.”

He then whispers, “I bet he didn’t.” You laugh as you greet the couple in front of you.

“Did you also get our tickets?” Daniel asks. Seongwoo smirks as he presented four tickets and waved them in front of Daniel’s face. Daniel lets out a lop-sided smirk as you two follow them inside the cinema. “I think I prefer this Seongwoo.”

The smell of popcorn hits you as you enter, leaving your mouth watering at the delightful smell. “What’s a movie without popcorn?” Daniel says as he gets in line. Once again, the both of you started another conversation about your interests.

“One popcorn and a box of fruit gummies,” Daniel says to the cashier. You eye him oddly. “What?”

“Gummies and popcorn?” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“The sweetness of the gummies balance out the saltiness of the popcorn,” Daniel explains as he receives the bag of popcorn and candy. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

“You said that same thing about walking your cats,” you mumble as he hands the ticket taker your tickets.

“The cat blog that I followed said that it was a good idea.” He takes your hand as he brings you into the theater where Seongwoo and his date were already sitting.

“You chose Spiderman?” Daniel laughs as he takes the seat next to you.

“You’re lucky I didn’t choose the Emoji Movie,” Seongwoo fires, taking a sip of his drink. Daniel quiets down as the movie begins to play.

Halfway through the movie, you didn’t notice when Daniel outstretches his arm over your shoulder when you lean your head on his shoulders. You gotta admit, his shoulders were pretty comfortable. You weren’t sure if it was the vibration from the loud action scene or Daniel’s arm around your shoulder, but you felt your heart thumping rapidly and hoped Daniel wouldn’t feel it.

“That was a good movie, but I’m hungry. Are you?” Daniel asks when you two exit the theater, leaving Seongwoo and his date. “How about we go eat at my place?”

“Sounds good.”

12:10 am – daniel’s apartment

“You know you can take off the sticker, right? I’m pretty sure I know what apartment I’m in.” You point at the cat sticker still stuck on Daniel’s door.

“I know,” he answers, “but look how cute this sticker it! It puffs out!” He smiles, lighting up the dimly lit hallway. He unlocks the door, his two cats welcoming him when he enters.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I go make some ramen? I’m sure Rooney and Peter are in need of some love,” Daniel suggests as he heads into the kitchen and motions to the couch.

Daniel’s apartment was your definition of cozy. Bamboo plants, catnip, and roses lined up the edge of the window, leaving a wonderful smell filling up the small apartment. His apartment wasn’t heavily decorated, most likely to keep his cats from knocking down objects, but the simple decor gave you the feeling of home as you take a seat on his sofa.

Soon, Daniel brings a tray with two bowls and set it down on the coffee table, leaving again to bring two glasses of water. He turns on the tv, showing a rerun of The Office, as you two eat in a comforting silence.

“I’m so full,” you say as you set down the bowl and lean against the couch. Daniel picks up the empty bowls and sets it in the kitchen, before returning to find you asleep.

“How cute,” he chuckles as he covers your body with a blanket and takes a seat across from you, soon falling asleep, too.

1:30 pm – cafe

Another boring day of lectures called for a large iced coffee. As you drink your coffee and finish the essay that was due tomorrow, Seongwoo walks into the cafe without Daniel by his side. You recall Daniel saying that he needed to bring his cat to the vet, which explained why he wasn’t with you or Seongwoo today.

“Hey, y/n,” Seongwoo greets, sliding the metal chair out from the table.

You greet him and hand him an extra muffin you had bought in case you were hungry later, but it seems that the boy in front of you was way hungrier than you. As he gulps down the muffin, you begin a conversation with him. “So how are you and your girlfriend?”

“She’s the best, oh my gosh.” He stops eating to beginning talking about his new girlfriend. “But I don’t get why Daniel insisted on coming along.”

You stop mid-way sip. “He...insisted? I thought you forced him on a double date?” You clearly remembered Daniel telling you about Seongwoo’s double date.

“Why on Earth would I force a guy to come with me on a date? He was practically begging me to let him come along. Like this.” Seongwoo then clasps his hands together to copy Daniel’s actions.

“Then why was he telling me about you forcing him to come along? That’s why he asked me to be his ‘date’,” you explain, clearly still confused as to why your neighbor would do such a thing.

Seongwoo is quiet before he cracks into a toothy grin. “Daniel likes you,” he states. He starts to laugh and points to the guy working the espresso machine. “Daniel does like y/n! You owe me $10, Minhyun!” The boy - Minhyun - sighs in defeat.

“Seongwoo, what? What are you literally saying?” After Seongwoo finishes his mini celebration, he looks at you as if you’re the most clueless person in the world. Which you were at the moment.

“Think about it: he asks you, of the people he knows, and trust me, he knows a lot, he asks you to be his pretend date, why do you think that?”

“Well first, why did he even lie about you forcing him to go on a double date?” Even though you were piecing the pieces of the puzzle together, you didn’t want to get your hopes up about Daniel liking you.

“Well, one, if Daniel is too shy to even talk to the cashier without stumbling his words, how do you think he would be if he asked you on a date?” Seongwoo said as a matter of fact. “y/n, there’s literally no other reason why Daniel did this.”

“Alright, let’s suppose you’re right, now what?” you ask.

“’Now what?’ One of you has to confess!” Seongwoo exclaims, enough for everybody in the cafe to hear your conversation. You slap him on the shoulder to shut him up.

“His appointment ends at 3, right? Then I better get going, see you later.” You grab your belongings and coffee while Seongwoo tells you about how cute you and Daniel would be when you two get married. You stuff the boy’s mouth with your leftover muffin before walk away.

“Minhyun! My $10!” was the last thing you heard before you left the cafe.

3:20 pm – outside of Daniel’s door

You were pacing outside of his door, waiting for him to come home. What were you going to say to him?

“Hey, Seongwoo told me you lied about the double date thing.” No, that didn’t sound right.

What about “So, I talked to Seongwoo and he told me that you like me.” Too blunt.

Well, too late to think of it since Daniel just walked into the hallway with Rooney and Peter. “Hey, y/n,” he greets when he’s at a close distance with you.

“Hey, I think we need to talk.” You groaned in your head, that was so cliche. Too late to change it now since the words already left your mouth. Daniel gives you an eyebrow raise and unlocks his door.

“Sure, I guess. Let’s talk inside." He holds the door open for you before walking in after you. His house was the same since the last time you visited him, except with a little bit more cat fur on the sofa and chairs.

After he takes the leashes off his cats, he motions you to the kitchen, where you sit behind the counter while he makes you tea. "So, how's Rooney and Peter?" you ask, starting a conversation.

Daniel takes a seat next to you and hands you a mug of steaming oolong tea. "The doctor said they're healthy, but she said that I should start giving them more wet food for a better diet, so I guess I should stop buying that much kibble." Daniel glances at his cats for a second before returning to you. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

You weren't sure how to phrase your words, should you be blunt or beat around the bush? "I was with Seongwoo today," you began. You didn't want to make eye contact with the brunette, but you caught yourself staring into his dark brown eyes while talking. He looks at you with curious eyes when you stop talking.

"And what'd he say? Hopefully not an embarrassing back story about me." He chuckles.

"He said something really crazy. He said that you were the one that asked him to go on a double date, not the other way around, but that's not true, is it?" You catch yourself staring into his eyes again before he takes a deep breath and sets down his mug on the marble counter.

"Everything he said is true. I did ask him to go on a double date so I could have an excuse to go on a date with you," Daniel explains. "I-I really like you, y/n.”

It took a minute for you to process his confession and when you did, you broke out into a smile. “I like you, too Daniel,” you confess. You two heard a muffled ‘yes!’ coming out from the other side of the door - Seongwoo.

“Seongwoo, what the fuck.” Daniel opens the door, revealing the familiar face. “How much did you hear?”

Seongwoo pretends to think. “About all of it. Thin walls, you know.” He then proceeds to knock on the door lightly. Daniel playfully shoves him away and shuts the door.

“Way to ruin the moment.” Daniel laughs and walks back to his seat. “Anyways, how about we go on an actual date? Just you and me?”

“I’d love to,” you reply, a smile not able to come off your face.

#that moment when you spent an hour finding what plants are safe for cats and if walking a cat is possible #daniel scenarios #wanna one scenarios #kang daniel scenarios #produce 101 scenarios #wanna one #kang daniel #produce 101 #daniel

389 notes · View notes

gobigorgohome2016 · 7 years

Text

The Allure of High Mileage Running

The 100 Mile Week. For as long as I can remember, high mileage has intrigued me. Of course, this probably partly stems from spending high school glued to message boards like letsrun, dyestat, and indianarunner, where a person’s worth was strongly tied to his (rarely her) running ability. I’m sure that growing up reading stories about Deena Kastor’s monster mileage didn’t help with my fascinaton, either.

In high school I was a fairly high mileage runner, topping out around 45 or 50 miles per week. I think a lot of high schoolers do that now, but at the time we only trained for a 4k race. I have always enjoyed mileage, and my body seems to respond better the more that I run.

In college, I was a low mileage runner because I was always injured. I remember the first time I ran a 60 mile week. I was pretty proud of that moment. Also in college my fascination with 100 mile weeks grew after hearing legends of former (male) teammates that pursued 100 mile / 100 beer challenges. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t even do a 100 mile / 10 beer challenge in a week (the beer being the limiting factor), but nevertheless my interest was piqued. Would I be able to run 100 miles someday? At that point, I figured likely not since I could barely make it past 40 miles without injuries.

When I got to grad school I realized it didn’t really matter how much I ran, since I wasn’t planning to take running seriously anymore. What if I just pushed my limits instead? I distinctly remember my first 70 mile week in January 2012. Dave and I went to The Rail (now defunct) to celebrate. Well, Dave didn’t need a reason to celebrate, but 70 miles in 7 days without getting hurt seemed as good a reason as any to have overpriced hipster drinks. That night we also realized that I never picked up my car from a trail head I had parked at during the week, since I ultimately just ran home one day to add on miles. (it’s easy to forget about your car when you live in a college town!)

My first 80 mile week was when I was training for Chicago, the time I didn’t finish the race, in 2012. I felt badass, especially because I completed the mileage during one of the hottest weeks in July, and in 5.5 days (I had taken a day off and had a 4 mile day that week as well). I felt strong and badass. I knew the mileage was working for me.

I didn’t hit 90 for the first time until I was training for Chicago the second time, in 2014, when I did finish the race. 6 weeks out I did an over distance training run of 32 miles, and easily got 90 in 5 days of running that week. If I wasn’t so dead from 32 miles on horse trails, I would have surely gone out and gotten in the extra mileage to hit 100, but I fortunately realized that would have been dumb.

My first 100 mile week came when I was training for the trials. I have never been as simultaneously exhausted and satisfied.

For me, my satisfaction with running has always been intrinsically tied to two things: doing new things I’ve never done before, like highest mileage ever or longest streak of 100+ mile weeks, and my success as a runner. I guess for me I have seen the most success when my mileage is high, so I’m hooked. Of course that begs the question: am I successful at running simply because I am satisfied with my training, or is the training making me a better runner? I have always strongly believed that the foundation of success is simply believing that the way you are training is the best, and never doubting.

But, why is 100 miles a seemingly magic number for me?

No matter where you look, it appears that 100 mile weeks is what separates the elite runner from the super serious runner – at least if you read online message boards, running magazines, or talk to old school coaches.

Yet, the pursuit of the 100 mile week is ultimately the undoing of many runners. Where did this arbitrary number come from, and are we so wedded to the idea of 100-or-bust?

From my research, Jack Daniels suggests that aerobic benefit ceases around 70 – 75 miles per week. Beyond that number, runners simply improve their running economy as they add more mileage. What I have yet to find, however, is any research on how a runner feels after hitting certain barriers in training, and how that mentality ultimately affects training.

For instance, I take a shit-ton (that’s a scientific unit, right) of pride in being able to sustain 100 mile weeks sans injury. Assuming I finish out this week as planned, I will have three 100 mile weeks under my belt in a row. (kind of. One was a 98 mile week and the other a 97 – close enough).

As an aside, that’s another funny thing about 100 mile weeks – 98 miles is pretty damn near 100 miles, so why didn’t I round up? For whatever reason, that 2% difference feels more significant than the difference between, say, 45 miles and 50 miles. 2% versus 10%. This fact doesn’t make a whole lot of logical sense.

Also, this is where runners tend to run into problems. You may be asking, if you were 3 miles from a 100 mile week, why didn’t you just go out and run an extra 3 miles? Well, because that would be stupid. It seems like high mileage would be filled with a lot of junk runs, but it really isn’t (at least not for me). At a certain point, you realize there are weeks where you really shouldn’t run extra mileage for the sake of extra mileage, no matter what your log looks like at the end of the week. I think that reaching this level of maturity is important, but it took me being a complete idiot to grasp that concept (i.e. the time I ran 115 miles the week I got food poisoning. Not my best life decision).

So, again, why is 100 mile weeks considered this magic training number? As far as I can tell, this started with Arthur Lydiard, who advocated high mileage running, but I can’t find anything that specifically says 100 miles is the magic number. I’m curious if anyone has an idea why runners seem to feel that 100 mile weeks separate the women from the girls?

Frankly, I think that high mileage – at least when run consistently – is probably beneficial because it forces you to take care of all the little things that runners neglect if you want to continue to sustain this type of training. For instance, there are certain rules one must abide by when hitting mega mileage, and those include:

Sleep: my first few weeks of hundreds will require 10 – 12 hours of sleep (including naps). I hear stories occasionally of runners attempting 100 mile weeks off of 6 – 7 hours of sleep. I think adrenaline can get you through maybe 2 weeks of that before your body crashes.

running lots of miles makes you tired. coffee is important.

Self Care: Even though my body feels best during big mileage, I acknowledge that it requires more care. You can injure yourself in the dumbest ways when you’re running a lot (ask my massage therapist, she could probably write a book on the stupid ways I have tweaked muscles). At the same time, a little bit of self care goes a long way at this mileage because your immune system is on high alert. The other day I tweaked my calf muscle, and 6 hours of icing, recovery yoga, legs up the wall, foam rolling, stretching, compression sleeves, and having Dave dig his fingers into my calf resulted in a pain free run the next morning.

Nutrition: This is the trickiest part. When you’re averaging 14.3 miles per day, you’re bound to run through a meal. If you’re like me, you’re also not at all hungry after a hot and humid longer run. Kefir, cheese, crackers, whole-fat foods, yogurt, protein shakes, and high-carb / high – calorie / high-protein foods are your best friend. Also, all the popsicles.

There is a conundrum at this mileage when it comes to nutrition. You want to eat as healthy as possible, but healthy foods aren’t always calorie dense. Sometimes your stomach fills up before you reach your caloric or macronutrient needs. It is so important at this mileage to remember that quantity (of calories) is sometimes more important than quality. If all that is available to me in the foreseeable future is a big mac and fries, you better believe that is what I’m going to eat.

sugar = glycogen = necessary

Singles vs. Doubles: At 70 – 80 miles per week, doubles seem easier. But, when I am 90+ mpw, I would much rather run singles. I’m not sure why this is, but going for a 14 mile run sure as hell beats a lot of 8 and 6 mile days.

Weight lifting: I used to attempt high mileage weeks without lifting. It was fine, for like 3 weeks. Then I started noticing my imbalances and lack of lifting is probably what contributed to a lot of the problems I had in my right leg last year. My biggest takeaway from that experience: if you can’t sustain your mileage + lifting, drop your mileage to the highest level you can sustain while getting in the extra work.

Flexibility: My massage therapist does range of motion and flexibility work. Without seeing her every two weeks, there is no way I could ever sustain this mileage. I also go to yoga once per week, and try to incorporate as much recovery into my weekly routine as possible.

Speed: I was talking to someone recently who asked me what my three pieces of advice would be for a marathoner. He was surprised when I said speed work, like strides, were one of the most important components. There is a misconception that running a lot of mileage results in slowness. That’s only true if you only run all of your mileage slowly. I do speedwork and strides every week, and I know that when I am in peak marathon shape I could also PR in nearly every other distance.

Pace: I think another misconception is that “slow” miles are junk miles at high mileage - but I also think this idea is perpetuated by people who believe that all mileage must be fast. There are times when I am in the best shape of my life that I do 10 mile runs in 90 minutes, or 20 mile runs in 2:40:00. Some days you just have to meet your body where it’s at, and respect that when you’re running mega mileage there will be more opportunities for bad days. When that happens I just throw on some extra strides at the end and call it even. Slow days (for you) don’t mean you aren’t in shape or that you’re losing fitness, it’s just important to remember that effort is more important than speed sometimes.

What Does a 100 Mile Week Look Like?

Here is what my most recent 100 mile week looked like:

Monday: 10 miles (double, 6 and 4) + yoga – I always do super easy 10 on Mondays, whether that means 10 in 90 minutes, or a little bit quicker but in doubles. Recovery yoga is also an every Monday occurrence.

Tuesday: 2 mile warm up, strides, 8 mile tempo in 48:27, 2.5 mile cool down + weight lifting. My plan was to hit 5:55 – 6:00 pace for this run, but with 14 mph winds and most of the route affected by the wind, I was very happy with this run. Overall average was 6:03 pace, which is faster than my marathon PR and the effort felt great.

Wednesday: 8 miles easy AM, 3 miles easy PM, + massage. Normally I would do 10 and 4 on Wednesday, but my sister was in town so things got changed to accommodate for all the walking we were going to do (4 miles of walking).

Thursday: 14 miles w/ last 400 m of each mile hard + weight lifting I love this workout. Makes the miles go quickly and has great aerobic and anaerobic benefits. I forgot my watch and nutrition, so I had to make an adjustment and run it as an out-and-back on a path that is marked every 400 m. Not my favorite way to do this workout, but it’s always good to practice things going wrong for when crazy things happen on race day.

Friday: 4 miles AM, 12 miles PM + strides having friends to run with is nice!

Saturday: 21 miles, I have been running 20+ milers since early July, so now I am focusing more on quality than just time on my feet

Sunday: 15 miles, I like to join friends during their 20+ milers on Sunday so that I can get in a relaxed semi-long run. Back to back long runs have been good for me!

So there it is. I don’t know why I’m obsessed with high mileage – especially when I don’t really love running for the sake of running – but it does make me feel badass and powerful. Do I think everyone should run 100 mile weeks? No – especially if you are unable to recover from them or are unable to take care of the little things. I do think there is something to be said for running the highest mileage that you can sustain individually if you are going after a goal, but much of that comes from the extra vigilance people use when chasing a new benchmark as well as the satisfaction they feel when new achievements have been reached!

20 notes · View notes

chavatulip · 7 years

Text

A Reaper76 and McHanzo College AU that I’ll probably never write...

Yet another HC/AU in collaboration with @icey-and-missy . Enjoy!

To say Jack and Gabe's relationship was complicated was a damn understatement.

They lived together, made each other food, and even slept in the same bed. But, God forbid you say that they are in a relationship or married.

Jack has never been openly affectionate with anyone, which caused the complication in the first place. It is no a brainer that the two are very much so into each other. Hell, Jack wears a silver band on his damn ring finger given to him by Gabriel as a birthday present.

Because of the obvious attraction, they steer clear away from each other when on school grounds. If Jack is out and about, Gabriel stays in his office. If Gabe is walking around, he usually steers clear of students and or Ana. Especially Ana. She harasses him too much about his whole crack-head relationship with Jack every time she sees him.

Many students know and ask stupid questions like: "If you and Mr. Reyes get married, who is the bride?", etc. And, for the most part, Jack avoids the questions and continues on with his class, etc.

But, Gabe? Yeah, he answers and he is very sarcastic and sassy when doin so(e.g. "Professor Reyes, are you and Morrison sleeping together?" "Probably. Who knows").

Overall, it is a friends with benefits sort of deal. But, they care about each and all that, they are just afraid of commitment.

Now, this goes on for another year or so and, in the semester of the new year, Gabe has some new students and, well, one of them catches his eye: Jesse McCree.

Now, Jesse is a bit rough around the edges. He skips class, doesn't do assignments, sasses teachers, etc. But, the weird thing that Gabe notices is that he is passing in his class (Photography).

Then, word goes around and Gabe finds out that Jesse McCree is sort of a prodigy in a majority of his classes. The kid is just real done with life because of how he was treated in the foster system; just does not give a fuck about college. And, Gabe is heartbroken cause this kid is throwing his future away and shit.

So, of course, Gabe butts in on his life. Jesse, at first, pushes him away because, in his entire life, no one has cared about him. He went to foster parent after foster parent and everyone of them seemed to give up on him after a few months, with the longest stay being a year, but that was because he was turning 18 soon after and would no longer be in the foster system. So, he is pretty jaded.

Now, Gabriel just continues for days on talking with Jesse and looking out for him. And, because of this, Jack starts to notice.

So, when they are home, Jack is all like "Gabe, what do you see in that kid?" And Gabe, giving Jack the most stern look imaginable just says, "The kid's got potential, Jack. And he's throwing it all away like it's nothing." Now, Jack just rolls his eyes until he realizes the look on Gabe’s face.

"You're serious?" Gabe just nods.

So, the next day, at the end of Jack's English 101 class, he calls Jesse over to his desk. Jesse thinks it is because he is not doing so hot in his class, which is true. But, instead, Jack is all "Gabe's really taken a liking to you, Jesse."

Jesse, though surprised, does not show it and smirks, saying, "What old man? You jealous?"

Jack just rolls his eyes and replies, "No. On the contrary, it seems he wants you to do better. But, you're not taking it seriously at all from what he's told me."

Jesse becomes angry because this was clearly some kind of bait. He does not want anyone's sympathy or to be fooled with.

"Oh yeah? Well, I ain't falling for that bullshit."

Jack just looks at him. "What?"

Jesse continues, saying, "You're just trying to fool me into thinkin' I can do better. Well, news flash! Guys like me don't got nothing to live for!"

Jack is about to reply when Jesse gets up and bolts it, both not wanting to talk and also due to the fact that he starts tearing up. He does not want anyone to see him weak.

As he leaves, Jack texts Gabe, who just so happens to be on a break before he has to teach his class, and explains how he tried to talk with Jesse.

Oh yeah? How'd it go? Gabe texts back.

Not good. And his heart just drops.

For the next few days, Jesse does not come to class. Now, it would have been easy to write off as him ditching. But, after what happened between Jesse and Jack, Jack and Gabe cannot help but start to worry.

When Jesse does return and goes to Gabe's class, Gabe notices that something is way off about Jesse.

So, right as Jesse is about to leave at the end of class, Gabe calls Jesse over and he just stops at the doorway. Gabe calls out again. And Jesse is... trembling.

Immediately, he walks over and turns him around, seeing the big shiner on Jesse's face, along with a few scrapes and bruises. Gabe is beyond pissed and really wants to kick the ass of whoever did this to him.

However, before he could do any of that, Gabe walks out of the building with Jesse and heads to his car, letting Jesse in the passenger's side. And, just as Gabe starts driving out of the parking lot, Jesse just breaks down and sobs.

Gabe is so taken aback by this that he takes his eyes off of the road and almost swerves off. Of course, they survive and make it to Gabe and Jack's apartment. Jack is already there, sipping a cup of coffee when he sees Gabe. He's about to say "Hey" till he sees a worried look on Gabe's face and a bruised Jesse in tow.

Immediately, Jack grabs the first-aid kit and starts patching Jesse up while Gabe is sitting next to him and comforting him. And Jesse is just so overwhelmed by all of this. This love and care that he has never received before is now being thrust upon him by two of his teachers that could care less about him if they wanted. And, he just sobs again.

Jack and Gabe freeze up a bit because, to Jack, he is all Oh my God he's crying! What did I do?!?! and Gabe's all Not again!. However, they quickly go back to comforting him and ask Jesse on what is wrong.

That is when Jesse tells them everything--why he was beat up, his past with foster care and his experience with being in the system, explaining how no one cared about him, etc. And it just leaves Jack and Gabe in disbelief.

So, after patching him up and explaining that they have been worried about him and just being so caring, Jesse starts letting them into his life.

For the rest of the semester, Jesse opens up to them more and more, and Gabe and Jack start inviting him to dinner every so often, just being a pseudo family.

Now, this is where Jack and Gabe's relationship are put to the test because they are kind of being parents/father figures to Jesse and it is getting serious.

So, one night, Jack and Gabe are doing the dishes and Jack says, out of the blue, "Gabe... How come we aren't dating?"

Gabe just kind of laughs it off saying, "What? Your students finally getting to you?"

And Jack just says, "Well, we've been living together for some time, known each other for awhile, fucked a few times before-"

"Jack."

"The only reason we aren't 'official' is because you're scared."

"So are you."

Jack chuckles. "Guess we both are."

So, next day, after a night of talking it out and realizing that they want this relationship to be more, they throw those rules on not being within another's space in the workplace and slowly become affectionate towards one another while at work.

However, it does come to a point where Ana finds them making out in one of the closets at the university. And she is all "I'm happy for you two, but please stop." Of course, they come out, a bit disheveled, but still.

Anyway, this goes on, everyone is chill with it, Jesse is pretty happy for his "dads" and is also doing pretty good in his classes; currently going for a major in journalism and a minor in photography.

Also, Jesse finds himself a boyfriend, Hanzo, who is a barista at campus and is majoring in kinesiotherapy, wanting to become a physical therapist. They also happen to be in the same photography class, since Hanzo needed a few more credits.

Now, at first, it was more of a crush kind of deal for McCree. So, what does he do?

Flirting. So much flirting.

And he does this every time he goes to the cafe on campus when it is Hanzo's shift. And Hanzo is kind of like "??????" at first because he just got to America and someone is already flirting with him.

Now, at first, Hanzo was a bit annoyed by this, especially when he realized that the two were in the same class. However, as Jesse continues this stunt, Hanzo kind of just lets him, thinking that Jesse does it all the time. Yet, one day, Jesse asks for Hanzo to model for him for the assignment they needed to do, which was figuring out lighting in a picture. Hanzo agrees, having already finished his assignment.

So, the next day, they're at the park and Hanzo is doing a few poses. And, surprise, Hanzo is kind of self-conscious.

"Jesse, this is ridiculous. These poses... Are you sure they're alright? They seem... unappealing." When he says this, Jesse cannot help but laugh. Hanzo is peeved by the other's reaction and almost leaves. However, he is stopped when Jesse says, "Well, darlin', I don't see why you're nervous. You're beautiful in every shot I've taken so far." And, Hanzo is baffled, his face turning a bright red instantly.

The rest of the day is just them, with Jesse still taking pictures and the two of them chatting, etc. And, when he turns in his assignment, the picture is of Hanzo, sun setting in the background with the sky just a mixture of blues and different shades of pinks and oranges, his back leaning against the balcony rail that was on the second floor at the university, and Hanzo is just smiling at Jesse, and it is so warm and genuine and perfect. McCree just melts overall, even when it was not the final draft of the picture yet at first. He is just so in love.

Now back to Jack and Gabe. They have been official for a few months now, even though they have been seeing one another as not official for who knows how long, and one day, they are just talking about life and the future and the fact that Jesse has a boyfriend (low-key kind of teasing, but what do they know?).

Then, after a few minutes of silence, Gabe, who was a bit more hesitant about the whole relationship when it became official because of Jack’s own hesitation beforehand and how Jack was not the most affectionate, says, out of nowhere "Marry me?" And Jack almost screams, his head shooting up to meet Gabe's gaze.

"Are you serious?"

"Very." That is when he screams with excitement and just pounces on Gabe, who was definitely not expecting that response from Jack at all.

They get married some time in June. Jesse is Gabe's best man. Hanzo is there too, along with Ana, her daughter, and a few other close friends and family. The ceremony is small and simple, but that is just how they like it.

Bonus: On the year of their first anniversary, Jack and Gabe celebrate it by having a party at a bowling alley with close friends and family. And, of course, Jesse and Hanzo are invited, and have been and still are together. Moreover, by this point, Jesse is practically calling both Jack and Gabe his dads (Jack being dad, Gabe being jefe and/or papa or pa). In addition, Jack and Gabe call him their son (Jack: Son, Gabe: Mijo and/or son).

Now, everyone is at the party and Gabe calls everyone over because Gabe and Jack have an announcement and they are beaming, having the brightest smiles on their faces. Jesse, of course, does not know what it is going to be, just like everyone else in the room. Gabe starts, "Mijo, can you come here please?"

Though suspicious, he goes up to Gabe and Jack.

"What is it?" Jack grabs his book bag and takes out some papers, handing them over to Jesse. Gabe and Jack are still smiling from ear to ear, Jesse is skimming over the papers, and the entire place is silent.

It was not until he was a few pages in did he realize that these documents given to him were adoption papers. And, Jesse is shocked. His eyes are wide with realization and he is using a free hand to comb through his hair.

Hanzo notices this and rushes over to McCree, not sure as to what was happening.

"McCree?" he asks worriedly. "McCree, what's wrong?"

All McCree does is look at Hanzo and whisper "Adoption papers..."

Hanzo stills.

"I'm getting adopted." Hesitantly, he hands the papers to Hanzo, who is holding onto them securely, and walks over to Gabe and Jack, embracing them both. He starts to cry. They start to cry. He goes over to Hanzo and hugs him tightly, who is also tearing up.

After all these years, Jesse finally got the one thing that he thought he would never have: a family.

6 notes · View notes

dailycamilacabello · 8 years

Photo

Growing Into Yourself

Lena Dunham interviews Camila Cabello about what keeps her sane.

Camila Cabello is only nineteen, but she's already a tried and tested veteran: a member of girl group Fifth Harmony since she was fifteen — having left last month amid much internet fanfare — she can explain the ins and outs of the glittery but fickle pop-music industry like someone much older. It's this candor about the joys and challenges of her profession (as well as a killer voice and a DGAF attitude) that initially made me a Camila fan, and I was thrilled at the chance to ask her about what keeps her sane, life as a Latina in the public eye during this election year, and the commodification of teen sexuality.

She was wise, open, and giggly, and I found myself listening to her social-media advice like she was my middle-aged therapist. This interview, given a few days before her exit from Fifth Harmony, is evidence that she's only just begun to tell her story and that what comes next will be on her own terms (and may involve space travel to Planet Sexy).

Lena Dunham: You were thrust very quickly into the world of teen pop, and obviously there are stories of people who've been really taken care of in that world, but there are stories of people who've really lost their way. What have been the things that have kept you from going off the rails?

Camila Cabello: I think what's kept me from, like you said, going off the rails, is my mom. I have my mom with me all the time. I literally don't think I could function without her. She's been through so much in her life that's real shit. She came from Cuba. My family came from places where a lot of people didn't have food to eat. Whenever there's stuff here, little stuff that could make you angry or makes you forget that we have so much to be grateful for just having hot water, my mom makes sure to remind me of what's important. I'm so happy to have her around. I really don't think I could do it without her.

LD: That's amazing. Speaking of your mom, she is Cuban. I want to ask about being a Latina in the music industry. Although there is diversity, you're online and you deal with the craziness of trolls and the kind of inherent racism that comes with living in America right now. I wondered if you ever feel that? How do you feel strong and connected to your identity when we're living in such a strange time with so much hateful rhetoric around difference?

CC: The best decision that I've taken in my career thus far has been this year I've just stayed away from social media. I don't go on it, and I just keep myself focused on getting better and growing as an artist and finding different ways to grow as a person. It's just kept me grounded, and I don't have 1,000 people thinking that they didn't like my shoes. Even though I know that there's way more support than there is hate, I don't have that in my head. That was one thing. Anyway, as far as the Latina thing, I feel like this has kind of been a crazy year for us because of everything that happened with the election. I didn't even realize how much racism was still prominent in our country. I live in Miami, and there's so many cultures there. I remember going to school, and 99 percent of the students there, their parents didn't have English as their first language. I don't come from a place where that's even a thing, you know what I mean? There's Cubans, there's Puerto Ricans, there's Haitians. It's a melting pot. Just like I imagine New York is. If you're a racist living in Miami, you got to move because you're going to be seeing your worst nightmare everywhere. I saw so many videos and so many Latino anchors from news that I watch interviewing people that just hated us and thought that we were inferior. It made me realize, Whoa, this is really still happening. I feel like in a way that's just kind of made me prouder of my roots. To be honest with you, I didn't think that I would be as politically outspoken as I was this year about the election. I know that it's a really personal decision, voting.

LD: This is the first year you could vote, right?

CC: Yeah, this is the first year I could vote. All of the things that were being spoken about hit so close to home, to me being an immigrant and being a Latina, that I just felt a responsibility to stick up for my people and my culture. Just seeing all of the debates and me and my family around talking. Seeing all of the passion in their eyes because they're the people being spoken about. Now and forevermore, I'm going to stick up for immigrants and I'm going to stick up for Hispanic people and their rights. I feel like that's just my job.

LD: That's really beautiful. Speaking of using your voice, there's a lot of pressure on young women to present themselves as full-time sex symbols. I wonder how you balance being who you are with the demand of putting forth an image of constant young, free, excited sexuality? Have you ever had to push back against something that someone was asking you to do?

CC: Oh my God. Yeah, definitely. Especially with being a girl group, there's been a lot of times where people have tried to sexualize us to just get more attention. Unfortunately, sex sells. There's definitely been times where there's stuff that I have not been comfortable with and I've had to put my foot down. There's nothing wrong with showing sexuality. If you have that inside, it's just an expression of who you are. If you want to share that with people, that's amazing. I love that. Look at Rihanna. She's so sexy. She comes from Planet Sexy. I worship her. I really, really do. I definitely think being a young girl, there's a time where — like when you're in middle school or when you first start liking boys — you don't really feel comfortable. You remember that time when you first got your period, or when your boobs started coming in, that you were like, This is weird. You have to grow into yourself. I feel like it's been tricky because we've had to grow into ourselves while being in front of the world and while making songs that did have a lot of sexual undertones.

LD: Like the song that my partner Jack wrote for you, "Dope." It's beautiful, and your voice sounds beautiful on it, but it's definitely about a sexual infatuation, and that is what people want to hear from young women if they're sort of given the choice.

CC: Totally. I've realized that growing into myself now, I think two years ago I would've been afraid to sing about that. That's completely natural because I wasn't ready yet. I think the thing that I would say to young women is, if you're not ready for it, put your foot down.

#camila cabello #interview #long post #fan art

238 notes · View notes

anavoliselenu · 7 years

Text

Dublin Street chapter 2

I tabulated everything quickly in my head. Gold taps, huge mirror, heated towel rail…

The bathroom in my old apartment didn’t even have a towel rail.

“Wow.” I threw Ellie a smile over my shoulder. “This is gorgeous.”

Practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, Ellie nodded, her blue eyes smiling brightly at me. “I know. I don’t get to use it much because I have an en-suite in my room. That’s a plus for my prospective roommate, though. They’ll get this room pretty much to themselves.”

Hmm, I mused at the lure of the bathroom. I was beginning to see why the rent on this place was so astronomical. If you had the money to live here, though, why would you leave?

As I followed Ellie across the hall and into the huge sitting room, I asked politely, “Did your roommate move away?” I made it sound like I was just curious, but really I was scoping Ellie out. If the apartment was this stunning, then maybe Ellie had been the problem as the roommate. Before Ellie could answer, I stopped short, turning around slowly to take in the room. Like all these old buildings, the ceilings in each room were pretty high. The windows were tall and wide, so tons of light from the busy street outside spilled into the lovely room. On the center of the far wall was a huge fireplace, clearly used only as a ‘feature’ and not a real fire, but it pulled the casually elegant room together. Sure, it’s a little more cluttered than I like, I thought, eyeing the piles of books that were scattered here and there along with silly little items… like a toy Buzz Lightyear.

I wasn’t even going to ask.

Eyeing Ellie, the cluttered room began to make sense. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy bun, she was wearing mis-matched flip flops, and there was a price sticker on her elbow.

“Roommate?” Ellie asked, turning around to meet my gaze. Before I could repeat the question, the furrow between her pale eyebrows cleared and she nodded, as if understanding. Good. It hadn’t been that hard a question. “Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I didn’t have a roommate. My brother bought this place as an investment and had it all done up. Then he decided he didn’t want me struggling to pay rent while I do my PhD, so he just gave it to me.”

Nice brother.

Even though I didn’t comment, she must have seen the reaction in my eyes. Ellie grinned, a fond look softening her gaze. “Justin is a little over the top. A present from him is never simple. And how could I say no to this place? Only thing is, I’ve been living here for a month and it’s just too big and lonely, even with my friends hanging out here on the weekends. So, I said to Justin that I was getting a roommate. He wasn’t keen on the idea, but I told him how much rent this place takes in and that changed his mind. Forever the businessman.”

I knew instinctually that Ellie loved her (obviously quite well-off) brother and that the two were close. It was there in her eyes when she talked about him and I knew that look. I’d studied the look over the years, facing it head on and developing a shield against the pain it brought me to see that kind of love on other people’s faces–other people who still had family in their lives.

“He sounds very generous,” I replied diplomatically, unused to people spilling their private feelings all over me when we’d only just met.

Ellie didn’t seem bothered by my response, which wasn’t exactly warm with ‘tell me more’s’. She just kept smiling and led me out of the sitting room and down the hall into a long kitchen. It was kind of narrow, but the far end opened up into a semi-circle where a dining table and chairs were arranged. The kitchen itself was as expensively finished as everywhere else in the apartment. All the appliances were top of the line and there was a huge modern range in the middle of the dark wood units.

“Very generous,” I repeated.

Ellie grunted at my observation. “Justin’s too generous. I didn’t need all this, but he insisted. He’s just like that. Take for instance his girlfriend—he indulges her in everything. I’m just waiting for him to get bored with her like he does with the rest of them because she’s one of the worst he’s been with. It’s so obvious she’s more interested in his cash than in him. Even he knows it. He says the arrangement suits him. Arrangement? Who talks like that?”

Who talks this much?

I hid a smile as she showed me the master bedroom. Like Ellie, it was cluttered. She prattled on a little more about her brother’s obviously vapid girlfriend and I wondered how this Justin guy would feel if he knew his sister was divulging his private life to a complete stranger.

“And this could be your room.”

We were standing in the doorway of a room at the very back of the apartment. High ceilings, a massive bay window with a window seat and jacquard floor-length curtains; gorgeous French Rococo bed, and a walnut library desk and leather chair. Somewhere for me to write.

Oh hell, I was in love.

“It’s beautiful.”

I wanted to live here. To hell with the cost. To hell with a chatty roommate. I’d lived frugally for long enough. I was alone in a country I’d adopted. I deserved a little comfort.

I’d get used to Ellie. She talked a lot, but was sweet and charming, and there was something innately kind in her eyes.

“Why don’t we have a cup of tea and see how we get on from there?” Ellie was grinning again.

Seconds later, I found myself alone in the sitting room as Ellie made tea in the kitchen. It suddenly occurred to me that it didn’t matter if I liked Ellie. Ellie had to like me if she was going to offer me that room. I felt worry gnaw at my gut. I wasn’t the most forthcoming person on the planet, and Ellie seemed like the most open. Maybe she wouldn’t ‘get’ me.

“It’s been difficult,” Ellie announced her re-entrance into the room. She was carrying a tray of tea and some snacks. “Finding a roommate, I mean. Very few people our age can afford somewhere like this.”

I inherited a lot of money. “My family is well-off.”

“Oh?” She pushed a mug of hot tea towards me as well as a chocolate muffin.

I cleared my throat, my fingers trembling around the mug. Cold sweat had broken out across my skin and blood was rushing in my ears. That’s how I always reacted when I was on the verge of having to tell someone the truth. My parents and little sister died in a car accident when I was fourteen. The only other family I have is an uncle who lives in Australia. He didn’t want custody of me so I lived in foster care. My parents had a lot of money. My dad’s grandfather was an oil man from Louisiana and my father had been exceptionally careful with his own inheritance. It all went to me when I turned eighteen. My heart slowed and the trembling ceased as I remembered Ellie didn’t really need to know my tale of woe. “My family, on my dad’s side, originally came from Louisiana. My great-grandfather made a lot of money in oil.”

“Oh how interesting.” She sounded sincere. “Did your family move from Louisiana?”

“To Virginia.” I nodded. “But my mom was originally from Scotland.”

“So you’re part Scottish. How cool.” She threw me a secret smile. “I’m only part Scottish as well. My mum is French but her family moved to St. Andrews when she was five. Shockingly, I don’t even speak French.” Ellie snorted and waited on my expected commentary.

“Does your brother speak French?”

“Oh no.” Ellie waved my question off. “Justin and I are half-siblings. We share the same dad. Our mums are both alive but our dad died five years ago. He was a very well-known businessman. Have you heard of Douglas Carmichael & Co? It’s one of the oldest estate agencies in the area. Dad took it over from his dad when he was really young and started up a property development company. He also owned a few restaurants and even a few of the tourist shops here. It’s a little mini-empire. When he died, Justin took it all on. Now it’s Justin everyone around here panders to–everyone trying to get a piece of him. And they all know how close we are, so they’ve tried using me, too.” Her pretty mouth twisted bitterly, an expression that seemed completely foreign to her face.

“I’m sorry.” I meant it. I understood what that was like. It was one of the reasons I had decided to leave Virginia behind and start over in Scotland.

As if sensing my utter sincerity, Ellie relaxed. I would never understand how someone could lay themselves out like that to a friend, never mind a stranger, but for once I wasn’t scared of Ellie’s openness. Yeah, it might cause her to expect me to reciprocate the sharing, but once she got to know me, I’m sure she’d understand that wasn’t going to happen.

To my surprise, an extremely comfortable silence had fallen between us. As if just realizing that too, Ellie smiled softly at me. “What are you doing in Edinburgh?”

“I live here now. Dual citizenship. It feels more like home here.”

She liked that answer.

“Are you a student?”

I shook my head. “I just graduated. I work Thursday and Friday nights at Club 39 on George Street. But I’m really just trying to focus on my writing at the moment.”

Ellie seemed thrilled by my confession. “That’s brilliant! I’ve always wanted to be friends with a writer. And that’s so brave to go for what you really want. My brother thinks being a PhD student is a waste of my time because I could work for him, but I love it. I’m a tutor at the university as well. It’s just… well it makes me happy. And I’m one of these awful people who can get away with doing what they enjoy even if it doesn’t pay much.” She grimaced. “That sounds terrible, doesn’t it?”

I wasn’t really the judging kind. “It’s your life, Ellie. You’ve been blessed financially. That doesn’t make you a terrible person.” I had a therapist in high school. I could hear her nasally voice in my head, ‘Now why can’t you apply the same thought process to yourself, Selena. Accepting your inheritance doesn’t make you a terrible person. It’s what your parents wanted for you.’

From the ages of fourteen to eighteen, I’d lived with two foster families in my hometown in Virginia. Neither families had a lot of money and I’d gone from a big, fancy house and expensive food and clothes, to eating a lot of SpaghettiO’s and sharing clothes with a younger foster ‘sister’ who happened to be the same height. With the approach of my eighteenth year, and the public knowledge that I would be receiving a substantial inheritance, I’d been approached by a number of business people in our town looking for investment and to take advantage of what they assumed was a naïve kid, as well as a classmate who wanted me to invest in his website. I guess living how the ‘other half’ lived during my formative years and then being sucked up to by fake people more interested in my deep pockets than in me were two of the reasons I was reluctant to touch the money I had.

Sitting there with Ellie, someone in a similar financial situation and dealing with guilt (although a different kind), made me feel a surprising connection to her.

“The room is yours,” Ellie suddenly announced.

Her abrupt bubbliness brought laughter to my lips. “Just like that?”

Seeming serious all of a sudden, Ellie nodded. “I have a good feeling about you.”

I have a good feeling about you, too. I gave her a relieved smile. “Then I’d love to move in.”

~2~

A week later I’d moved into the luxury apartment on Dublin Street.

Unlike Ellie and her clutter, I liked everything to be organized around me just so, and that meant immediately diving into unpacking.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit and have a cup of tea with me?” Ellie asked from the doorway as I stood in my room surrounded by boxes and a couple of suitcases.

“I really want to get this all unpacked so I can just relax.” I smiled reassuringly so she wouldn’t think I was blowing her off. I always hated this part of a burgeoning friendship–the exhausting hedging of one another’s personality, trying to work out how a person would react to a certain tone, or attitude.

Ellie just nodded her understanding. “Okay. Well, I’ve got to tutor in an hour, so I think I’ll walk instead of grabbing a cab, which means heading off now. That’ll give you some space, some time to get to know the place.”

I’m liking you more already. “Have a fun class.”

“Have fun unpacking.”

I grunted and waved her away as she flashed me a pretty smile and headed out.

As soon as the front door slammed shut, I flopped down on my incredibly comfortable new bed. “Welcome to Dublin Street,” I murmured, staring up at the ceiling.

Kings of Leon sang ‘your sex is on fire’ really loudly at me. I grumbled at the fact that my solitude was being so quickly intruded upon. With a tilt of my hip, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and smiled at the caller I.D.

“Hey you,” I answered warmly.

“So have you moved into your exorbitantly, overindulgent, pretentious new flat yet?” Rhian asked without preamble.

“Is that bitter envy I hear?”

“You’ve got that right, you lucky cow. I was almost ill in my cereal this morning at the pictures you sent me. Is that place for real?”

“I take it the apartment in London isn’t living up to your expectations?”

“Expectations? I’m paying through the nose for a bloody glorified cardboard box!”

I snorted.

“Fuck off,” Rhian grumbled half-heartedly. “I miss you and our mice-riddled palace.”

“I miss you and our mice-riddled palace, too.”

“Are you saying that as you stare at your claw-footed bath tub with its gold-plated taps?”

“Nope… as I lie on my five thousand dollar bed.”

“What’s that in pounds?”

“I don’t know. Three thousand?”

“Jesus, you’re sleeping on six week’s rent.”

Groaning, I sat up to pull open the nearest box. “I wish I hadn’t told you how much my rent is.”

“Well, I’d give you a lecture on how you’re pissing that money of yours away on rent when you could have bought a house, but who am I to talk?”

“Yeah, and I don’t need any lectures. That’s the sweetest part of being an orphan. No concerned lectures.”

I don’t know why I said that.

There was no sweet part to being an orphan.

Or having no one be concerned.

Rhian was silent on the other end of the line. We never talked about my parents or hers. It was our no-go area. “Anyway,” I cleared my throat, “I better get back to unpacking.”

“Is your new roommate there?” Rhian picked up the conversation as though I hadn’t said anything about my parentless status.

“She just went out.”

“Have you met any of her friends yet? Any of them guys? Hot guys? Hot enough to haul you out of your four year dry spell?”

The skeptical laughter on my lips died when an image of the Suit popped into my mind. Feeling my skin prickle at the thought of him, I found myself grow quiet. It wasn’t the first time he’d flashed across my thoughts in the last seven days.

“What’s this?” Rhian asked in answer to my silence. “Is one of them a hottie?”

“No,” I brushed her off as I shoveled the Suit out of my thoughts. “I haven’t met any of Ellie’s friends yet.”

“Bummer.”

Not really. The last thing I need is a guy in my life. “Listen, I’ve got to get this done. Talk to you later?”

“Sure, hon. Talk later.”

We hung up and I sighed, gazing at all my boxes. All I really wanted to do was flop back on the bed and take a long nap.

“Ugh, let’s do this.”

***

A few hours later, I was completely unpacked. All of my boxes were folded up neatly and stored in the hall closet. My clothes were hung up and folded away. My books were lined up on the bookshelf and my laptop was open on the desk, ready for my words. A photograph of my parents sat on my bedside table, another of Rhian and I at a Halloween party graced the bookshelf, and by my laptop on the desk, sat my favorite photo. It was a picture of me holding Beth, my parents standing behind me. We were sitting out in the backyard at a barbecue the summer before they died. My neighbor had taken the shot.

I knew photos usually invited questions, but I couldn’t bring myself to put those photographs away. They were a painful reminder that loving people only led to heartbreak… but I couldn’t bear to part with them.

I kissed my fingertips and placed them gently against the photo of my parents.

I miss you.

After a moment, a bead of sweat rolling down my nape drew me out of my melancholic fog and I wrinkled my nose. It was a hot day and I had blasted through the unpacking like The Terminator after John Connor.

Time to try out that gorgeous bath tub.

Pouring in some bubble bath and running the hot water, I immediately began to relax at the rich smell of lotus blossoms. Back in my bedroom, I peeled out of my sweaty shirt and shorts and felt a smug liberation as I walked down the hall, naked in my new apartment.

I smiled, gazing around at it, still not quite believing all ‘the pretty’ was mine for at least the next six months.

With music blasting from my smartphone, I sank deep into the tub and began to doze. It was only the growing chill of the water that nudged me to wakefulness. Feeling soothed and as content as I could be, I clambered inelegantly out of the tub and reached for my phone. As soon as silence reigned around me, I glanced over at the towel rail and froze.

Crap.

There were no towels. I scowled at the towel rail as if it was its fault. I could have sworn Ellie had towels on there last week. Now I was going to have to drip water all down the hall.

Grumbling under my breath, I wrenched the bathroom door open and stepped out into the airy hallway.

“Uh… hullo,” a deep voice choked out, snapping my eyes up off the puddle I was making on the hardwood flooring.

A squeal of shock got crushed in my windpipe as I gazed into the eyes of the Suit.

What was he doing here? In my house? STALKER!

My mouth hung open as I tried to work out what the hell was going on; it took me a moment to realize his eyes weren’t on my face. They were running all over my very naked body.

With a garbled noise of distress I clamped an arm over my br**sts and a hand in front of my vajajay. Pale blue eyes met my horrified grey gaze. “What are you doing in my apartment?” I glanced hurriedly around for a weapon. Umbrella? It had a metal point… that might work.

Another choking noise snapped my eyes back to his, and a flush of unwanted and totally inappropriate heat hit me between the legs. He had ‘that look’ again. That dark, sexually avarice look. I hated that my body responded so instantly to ‘that look’ considering the guy might be a serial killer.

“Turn around!” I yelled, trying to cover up how vulnerable I felt.

Immediately, the Suit held up his hands in surrender and he spun slowly around, his back to me. My eyes narrowed at the sight of his shaking shoulders. The bastard was laughing at me.

Heart racing, I moved to rush towards my room to grab some clothes – and possibly a baseball bat – when my eyes snagged on a photo on Ellie’s memo board. It was a picture of Ellie… and the Suit.

What the hell?

Why had I not noticed this? Oh yeah. Because I didn’t like to ask questions. Disgruntled at my own crap observational skills, I threw a quick look over my shoulder. I was gratified to find the Suit wasn’t peeking. Skittering off to my room, his deep voice followed me, rumbling down the hall to my ears. “I’m Justin Carmichael. Ellie’s brother.”

Of course he was, I thought grumpily, patting myself dry with a towel before shoving my angry limbs through a pair of shorts and a tank top.

With my dark blonde, brownish hair piled in a wet mess atop my head, I stormed back out into the hall to face him.

Justin had turned around, his lips quirked up at the corner now as he ran his eyes over me. The fact that I was dressed didn’t matter. He was still seeing me naked. I could tell.

My hands flew to my hips in belligerent humiliation. “And you just walk in here without knocking?”

A dark eyebrow rose at my tone. “It is my flat.”

“It’s common courtesy to freaking knock,” I argued.

His reply consisted of him shrugging and then jamming his hands casually into his suit pants. He’d taken his jacket off somewhere and his white shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, revealing tan, masculine forearms.

A knot of need tightened in my gut at the sight of those sexy forearms.

Shit.

Fuckity, shit, f**k.

I flushed inwardly. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

Justin gifted me a roguish smile. “I never apologize unless I mean it. And I’m not apologizing for this. It’s been the highlight of my week. Possibly my year.” His grin was so easy-going–coaxing me to smile back at him. I wouldn’t.

Justin was Ellie’s brother. He had a girlfriend.

And I was way too attracted to this stranger for it to be healthy.

“Wow, what a boring life you must lead,” I replied haughtily and weakly as I walked by him. You try being witty after flashing your girl pieces to some guy you barely know. I couldn’t really give him much of a wide berth and had to ignore the flutter of butterflies in my stomach as I caught a whiff of the delicious cologne he was wearing.

Grunting at my observation, Justin followed me. I could feel the heat of him at my back as I entered the sitting room.

His jacket was tossed across an armchair and a near empty mug of coffee was sitting beside an open newspaper on the coffee table. He’d just made himself at home while I was soaking in the tub, completely oblivious.

Annoyed, I shot him a dirty look over my shoulder.

His boyish grin hit me in the chest and I looked away quickly, perching on the arm of the couch as Justin sank casually into the armchair. The grin was gone now. He stared up at me with just a small smile playing on his lips, like he was thinking of a private joke. Or me naked.

Despite my resistance to him, I didn’t want him to think that my nakedness was funny.

“So, you’re Selena Butler.”

“Selena,” I corrected automatically.

He nodded and relaxed into his seat, his arm sliding along the back of the chair. He had gorgeous hands. Elegant, but masculine. Large. Strong. An image of that hand sliding up my inner thigh crossed my mind before I could stop it.

0 notes