#i think my life has peaked and i won’t ever get over it

[finchers-ipad]

saw fight club in the cinema…i think i died

[junkdrawerfics]

Simple Moment

I love Jasper Hale more than most things in my life.

Summary: Just a cute, fluffy moment with Jasper and his human, the reader. Mostly Bella and Alice talking about the two of you.

Word Count: 702

Warnings: None! Just fluff!

“So that’s Jasper’s girlfriend?” Bella asks Alice as they watch a familiar looking girl stride up to said vampire. She waggles her hand in front of the blond’s face, snapping him out of whatever thoughts he was stuck in. A small smile slips onto Bella’s lips as she watches him grin and murmur some greeting.

“Yep, that’s (Y/n),” Alice replies, smiling along fondly, “We met her just a year ago. She’s Jasper’s singer, like you’re Edward’s.”

Bella’s brows shoot up at this, “She’s human?” She knew that Jasper didn’t have complete control of his instincts yet, so the fact that he could be around someone whose blood is so tempting to him seems implausible. Yet there you are, pressing into his side with an adoring smile.

“Crazy huh?” Alice giggles at the gobsmacked look on her friend’s face, “Trust me, it wasn’t pretty at first. Jasper had to stay home for weeks because he couldn’t control himself at school.”

A question hangs on the tip of her tongue, but Bella keeps it to herself. It’s none of her business how they eventually came together, she imagines it might have been something similar to her and Edward’s story. Her curious eyes dart over to Jasper and the girl again. They’re settled down on the roots of a nearby tree, talking and smiling at each other. The softness of the moment strikes her. Had she ever seen the vampire look so carefree? Especially around a human?

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” The ravenette murmurs with a far away look, “She’ll be like us one day too, I’ve seen it, and they look so happy. She’s the one that helps him learn control. He’s even the one who changes her, I think. That part was still a little unclear.”

Bella looks at her with a smile, “It’s so cool that you’ve seen all of that.”

Alice shrugs but her smile betrays the pride she feels for her gift, “It has come to me over the months, not all together, you know. I’m just so happy he has someone now.”

Both look over at the couple again, fondness and genuine joy rolling off of them.

Jasper smiles slightly, eyes darting over to the pair.

“What is it?” You ask, glancing around the blonde to see his sister and the new girl staring at the two of you. A dark blush is quick to cover your face, which you hide in his shoulder.

Jasper chuckles lightly, pressing an adoring kiss to the crown of your head, “No worries, darlin’, they’re happy you’re here.”

You peak up at him with a small, teasing grin, “Really? And how do you feel, huh?”

The blonde raises an eyebrow at you, one of his oh so charming smirks pulling at the corner of his lips, “Why, it’s a pleasure to have you by my side, ma’am.”

Your teasing smile melts into a sigh and you bury your face back into his shoulder. Just his voice alone sets free a flock of butterflies in your chest. You’re probably as red as a tomato again.

“Don’t call me ma’am, makes me feel old,” you grumble to try and hide just how flustered his words made you feel.

“My apologies,” you can hear the grin in his voice, “...ma’am.”

You punch him in the side, knowing all too well that it won’t actually hurt him, but at least the intention is there. Jasper just chuckles again and pulls away to look at your bright face.

“I’m just teasin’ darlin’,” he hums, “You get riled up so easy.”

“You’re so mean.” You pout, scrunching your nose up at him.

The vampire only grins and leans close to press his cold lips against your forehead. Eyes fluttering closed, you take a moment to just savor the feeling. You never want it to go away. You never want him to go away.

“I love you, Jasper,” you mumble as you tuck back into his side.

He pulls you close, enveloped in your scent but so stricken with the genuine emotions rolling off you that it doesn’t even seem to bother him.

“I love you too, darlin’.” The words are soft, spoken so only you will hear him.

[atlasnessie]

being with DAZAI is a wonderland of its own. everyday, there’s something new he wants to do, something new he would say to you, whether it being a new suicide method or something he saw on the way to work. “lookit !! i took a picture of a cat while coming to work. it looks just like you, don’t’cha think ? … what ever do you mean i called you a ‘blade of grass’ the other day ? well, in my defense, it looked exactly like you.”

DAZAI has no sense of personal space. your personal bubble is his to invade, maybe even his as one with you. he would make you sit next to him or he would scoot over to you, playing with pens that rested on your desk and lazily scanning over papers. his legs is playing feetsies with yours, intertwined and making the desk move every now and then, resulting into you having to scold DAZAI for ruining your paperwork. he would raise his hands in surrender before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “hm ? that wasn’t my fault, dear ! ack- hey now, no need to hit me … oh, alright, alright, i’m sorry. i’ll let you get back to work. but before that, a quick kiss won’t kill you, will it ~?”

DAZAI doesn’t use the nickname ‘belladonna’ on you. that sort of title is reserved for the ladies he would tease, asking of a double suicide. you’re his one and only. the love of his life, as he would claim. DAZAI would look at you longingly and think of the most cliche things to say and call you. “dear, could you come and help me with my papers ? hm ? ah, what’dya mean ‘do it yourself ..?’ come on now, angel, please ~?”

OSAMU DAZAI, an enigma of a man. you didn’t know much of him before he came to the agency at the ripe age of 20. you also didn’t know what brought you into him. perhaps it was that handsome face of his, or the way his dark chocolate hair waves, or his dark, void-like eyes. maybe it was his charismatic ways of talking, his voice smooth as honey, lies dripping down each time he spoke. you knew you loved him the moment you laid your eyes on him. if you were an empty treasure chest DAZAI would be the gold, the silver, the bronze, and all the jewels that resided. he was your everything, and you were his. life goes on, is what people tell you. and so it does. OSAMU, the man you once found a mystery, comes to spill everything about himself, one by one, little by little. he holds you dearly to his heart, he just hopes you do the same. “heyy, angel ? wanna go out for a drink with me later ? am i done with my work, you ask ? why, of course !! ah, why are you peaking at my desk … nono, ignore all of the stacked papers, my dear. just let me know once you’re finished and we’ll slip out ~!!”

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.1 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game....Uhhh...I think that is all.

Everything was dark and blurry in his eyes. All he remembers was stalking in the shadows looking for his next prey and suddenly he was kidnapped. He felt mixed emotions, fear but importantly joy, he was finally away from Cazador. It would be like he suddenly disappeared in thin air and Cazador will need him no more. Until he was stuck with another burden, You. “Would you keep quiet, dammit!?” He whispered rather loudly. You stopped shifting around the tall grass and peaked out of it. “I’m sorry” You whispered before going back to hiding. He looked over seeing two people walking by, “Perfect” He mutters and gets ready to put on his performance.  

  After almost getting incinerated, you and Astarion have found a group and camp for the remainder of the period till the little wiggly worm is out of your mind but of course, you wouldn’t comprehend, for you were so young. 

“Who’s the little adorable bugger?” Gale smiles letting you try to read the books he has found so far. “For the record this annoying little sp-human is not mine, they just seem to be attached to me.” Astarion watches you trying to pronounce the big words only to butcher them. “But it’s getting rather late and I hate to deal with a cranky annoying child tomorrow.” He picked you up keeping his arms outstretched and walked to his tent. Once everyone was out of earshot, he squats at your height. “Listen here, you must not tell anyone what we are understood?” His red eyes look down at your innocent (E/C) ones. “But why not?” You sat on top of the pillow looking up at Astarion seeing him take a deep breath in. Of course, Astarion knows he has to make it simple. “Because we are playing a game” He grins “ We are all hiding our identity. You and I are a team and the rest are a team. Whoever is the first one to discover their real identity, is the sore loser.” He gives a smile sitting down next to you. You pouted, your cheeks puffed up “We will win, okay! I won’t tell.” You lean back before yawning “ If they ask what do I say?” You cute little doe eyes look at him tiredly. “Hmm…we are just normal elves got it?” He looks away in deep thought, “it’s for the best for now” He mutters before leaning back “ You know for a being the youngest Spawn he created…you still need rest like a human, you are such an odd little creature” He gently plays with the ends of your hair “ Why did he even turn you?” He whispers as you slowly slip into sleep. “What use does he even have for you?” He kept asking himself all the questions ever since you were part of the “Family” 

You were the youngest spawn Cazador has ever gotten. You were only 5 soon turning 6. Astarion was first shocked to see Cazador holding you in his arms when he came back from bringing a pretty prey for his master. He never dared question, he kept all his unanswered questions to himself. Astarion felt anger towards you both. Why was Cazador more tender with you, not treating you like he does to his other spawns. Why did you get the special treatment? He was mostly angry towards Cazador as always, why did he turn you, you didn’t even reach your half way milestone of your life. You were going to stay that age and size forever.  He has been treated like shit for 200 years but you, you would never experience the things a child should be, the things teenerages and young adults go through. Once again Cazador has robbed you of your life just how Astarion was robbed of his.

Morning rolled by, You picked up a little flower near Gale’s tent, “Astarion! Look what I found!” You ran up to him as he was getting ready to set foot on finding a healer with the others. “What is it this time?” He mutters looking up before seeing a flower being gently shoved to his face. “A flower.” You smile waiting for him to take it. “ A flower…you called my attention for a flower…this is why I don’t work with little annoying monsters.” He sighs already feeling annoyed from the lack of blood. “I’m sorry…” You whisper looking down, putting the flower away from his face, small tears forming in your doe eyes. He stops putting things into his bag and sighs “ Why must you be such a crybaby” He sits down pulling your tiny form on his lap, taking the flower. “Wow, thank you. I feel the luckiest person to get a flower from you.” He says in a bored voice looking at you. You sniff and rub your eyes, “You mean it?” The tears no longer present in your eyes. He looks at you unamused. “Yes, now shoo, I have to pack. Go bother Gale, Shadowheart or even Tav but not me got it?” He makes you get off his lap before freezing feeling you give him a light peck on his cheek “Okay! I’ll collect more flowers for the others!” You giggle before running off.  He placed a hand over his cheek and watched the direction you left. “What an odd little spawn.” He whispers before continuing to pack. 

  You hummed a tune as you collected more flowers near Gale’s camp where Gale was sitting on the pillow, reading a book. He looks up hearing you hum. “Say (Y/n), that tune you must be from the upper city aren’t you?” He smiles placing the book down as your little feet shuffle over to him. “Mmhm! Papa would always sing me this lullaby at night!” You grin “It’s my favorite and he always wants me to sing! He says I’m his little singing bird!” Placing the flowers down, you sat on the ground in front of gale. Thinking back to what Astarion said last night, remembering to not give away too much information. “Judging by your clothes, I bet your father is a rather important man?” He smiles rubbing down those stubborn baby hairs that lift up from your hair. You only nodded “Papa is the best! I miss him and I want to go home…” You look around the wilderness that you and Astarion crashed in. “I want him to hold me close…I always dream of those monsters…and the little wormy” Whimpering you scoot into Gale’s arms. “I don’t want them to come back!” You tear up, “I want papa to hold me but he’s not here!” You wail. Gale quickly panics “Oh…crying child…what to do…wish Tara was here…” He mutters before rubbing your back “Hey now, you can always come to me, Shadowheart and even Tav if you ever have a nightmare. How about this, before you go to bed, I will tell you a story so you can dream of that story rather than the scary monsters. Trust me, I have read so many books, I know them by heart.” He grins as you finally stopped the water works. “Which is why he’s a walking library in this case.” Shadowheart smiles walking over “Now, we should get going, the closer we find a healer, the faster you can go to your papa” She smiles leaning to your height. “Really!” You smiled, your eyes widened at the thought of seeing your father soon. “Let’s go!” Grabbing the flowers, you ran to Astarion to share the news. 

“Astarion!”

“What now!?” 

Walking to find a healer seems like eternity to you, “I wanna rest!” You whined to Astarion tugging at his shirt. “Then complained to Tav, they are leading the damn group, not me.” He sighs, breathing in heavily to compose himself from lashing out. “Up! Up!” You lifted your arms. “The hell I won’t!” He walks faster only for you to follow him whining even more. The rest of the small group look over watching the two of you, seeing you bothering Astarion even more. “Is it me or do these two know each other very much?” Shadowheart watches you keep tugging on his shirt. “Yet he says he doesn’t know (Y/N), that they only tagged along with him.” Gale crossed his arms. Tav smiles “I don’t know, (Y/n) looks nothing like Astarion so I doubt they are related and (Y/N) always mentions a papa.” Shadowheart and Gale nodded. “What in the nine hells! Where did you go!?” Astarion looks around for you as you stop tugging on his shirt a while ago. “Where did they go?” Tav walks back to the pale elf. “ I don’t know, the moment they were annoying the hell out of me! Next thing I know, they are go- wait…” He smells it, blood. You must have run off to the smell. “ I…um…heard them, this way” He quickly follows the scent with the rest following. 

You carefully walked down the ladder, the smell of blood getting stronger. Turning around a corner, you are met with a woman with red skin, burning and importantly with a broken horn. Slowly walking over to the tiefling, you look up at her “Are you okay?” You meekly whisper seeing how tall she was according to your height. She looks up hearing the childish voice, “Hells, what is a child doing all alone?” She looks at you shocked before feeling the tadpoles connect. “Fuck” Karlach whispers holding her head “You were also in that ship…” She whispers before calming herself down and kneels down to make it seem less intimidating to you. “Hey there little soldier,  What are you doing all alone?” She smiles as you slowly take small steps towards her. “I…you’re hurt…are you okay?” You go to place your small hand on her but she backs away quickly. “Careful there, I’m not like any other tiefling, I can burn you.” She smiles “I'm Karlach, what’s your name, little soldier?” She chuckles admiring your little face as you try to say her name slowly. “Car…Ka…la…Karlach.” You finally get it right, before giving her your name, someone else beat you to it. 

“(Y/N)!?” Tav runs over, crossing the log and quickly pulls you back from Karlach, putting you behind. “Get away from them” Tav frowns weapons out. “Are you okay?” Shadowheart checks you over for any injuries as Gale also checked along with her. Astarion catches up and lets out a small sigh seeing you alive and safe. “What in the sweet hells were you thinking running off like that?! A goblin could’ve gotten you or a wild animal?!” He looks down at you but stops himself seeing you tear up. “I-I’m sorry….don’t get mad like papa!” You cried. “Like papa….” He glares down at you. “Don’t ever compare me to him you litt-” He stops himself seeing the fear in your eyes. Him, being like Cazador. He would rather kill himself than be exactly like his old master. He sighs before kneeling to you as the others were busy with Karlach. “Sorry…I was…I guess you can say I was very worried…I know it wasn’t your intention to run off…” He then whispers “You must be hungry…for blood like me…I know you are craving that sweet and yet bitter flavor but you need to hold it in like I am…tonight we’ll find some small vermin okay?” He slowly pats your head as you nod. Standing up, he walks over to the rest as you follow closely to him. “My, I feel so much better knowing we have a strong wall to protect us from any arrows” He smirks after learning Karlach was recruited. “I like her! She’s nice!” You popped out from behind walking over to Karlach. “And I like you little soldier” She smiles. 

After going back to camp for the day, Astarion watches as you listen to Gale’s stories. He sat from his tent looking at a book but his mind wandered back to what you said. Like papa…when has Cazador ever punished you? He thinks back but nothing comes to him. He turns the page to the book to make it look like he was reading. He looks back at you with that question still haunting his thoughts. It really ticked him off when you compared him to Cazador, he will never be like him…no he will be better. He wants to get back at him and back at him good. He smirks looking at you. Why not get him back with the thing he treasures the most, or rather the person he treasures the more. 

You

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors Notes: Thank you everyone for reading this, please like, reblog and share it with others. I will be working on Part 2 soon hopefully. I also started another series a month ago or more about Astarion and a Gur! Reader. There is only part 1 out as well but I will be working out on that. Please remember to stay hydrated and to get some rest. Love you all! You are welcome to ask to be tagged as well for the next part.

-Axie

[softspiderling]

speak now (or forever hold your peace) | b.r.b.

summary: it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

warnings: angst??? IDK! also violence

word count: 5,5k

author’s note: this has been sitting in my drafts for SO LONG! and then i decided to write the entire fucking thing, i'm not even joking, this fic was very much different two days ago but i have been waiting for the perfect moment and i guess it’s now🤭 thank you to sol who has been expressing her excitement for this fic (and we laughed about taylor swift inspired fics, bc this is OBVIOUSLY inspired by speak now (and that one japril moment. you know which one)). I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!

Fixing the collar of his suit, Bradley stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had opted against his dress-whites, knowing you preferred him in a normal suit. Now however, he severely regretted it, missing the layer of protection his dress-whites provided him. He felt stuffy in the suit, vulnerable. He wondered if there was still enough time to go home and change, when there was a knock on the door. 

“Hey, you just gonna stay in here for the whole ceremony?”

Natasha was eyeing him carefully, not an ounce of shame present on her face, even though she was standing halfway in the men’s bathroom. Bradley put up a brave face, but he knew that she’d see right through it. God, he could already see the pitiful looks on his friends as soon as he’d step out the door again.

“I just- needed to fix my bowtie,” Bradley sniffed, straightening said bow-tie before turning to look at her. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re good, right? No regrets? No desire to ditch?”

Bradley looked back into the mirror to avoid Natasha’s gaze, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. He had been thinking about ditching the second he entered the venue, but that would just be taking the easy way out. You were his friend, and he should be there for arguably one of the most important days of your life. His own feelings be damned.

“No, this is her wedding. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. It just… Sucks.” 

Natasha didn’t reply, clearly waiting for him to elaborate, her arms crossed over her chest. Judging by her face, he wouldn’t get around it. She always disapproved of the reasons why you and him didn’t work out.  

“I mean. I knew that this day would eventually come. She’s always been open about wanting to get married and you know, settling down and all. But I thought I had more time to get over her. I mean, I probably won’t ever get over her, but... I sound stupid, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Natasha’s voice and Bradley shot her a pained look. With a sigh, she uncrossed her arms and fully stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.

“I’m sorry you feel this way. You know how I always used to say that the two of you were kind of perfect together. Honestly, I still think that. But it’s literally the day of her wedding. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’s too late now.”

Bradley’s chest tightened, and nodded quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Yeah… Yeah I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, reaching out to squeeze arm. “I wish things would’ve been different.”

So did he.

With a deep breath, Bradley glanced at the mirror one last time, before he put his hand on the door knob, straightening his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go, before you get caught trying to sneak a peak.”

Bradley stepped out of the bathroom and was immediately thrown back into the bustling crowd, full of nicely dressed people. Even Callie, your maid of honor, had cleaned up nicely. 

“Hey, wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she said, not unkind, eyeing him up and down. “She’s down the hall, if you want to say hi.”

Bradley gave her a curt nod, before leaving Natasha to her girlfriend, walking down the hall, looking over his shoulder as the two women watched him go, conversing quietly. Callie had been cold ever since you broke up with him, treating him cordially, like a colleague, but never as a friend. And he didn't blame her, really.

He knocked on the brown door, before stepping inside, where you were sitting in front of the vanity, dressed in a white fluffy robe.

“Hey. How’s the blushing bride?”

“Hi,” you said and he smiled at you, somewhat sorrowfully, taking a seat on the ottoman across from you. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Pretty sure that’s normal wedding day jitters,” Bradley joked. 

You gave him a self-deprecating smile, clearly lost in thoughts. 

“You okay?”

Bradley’s brows furrowed in worry as he took in your face and the slight frown. People said that wedding jitters were especially nerve-wracking, but you had always been a champ. And you had been looking forward to your wedding day ever since you were a little girl, he knew that.

“Yeah. Just can’t believe it’s finally my wedding day, you know?”

Bradley pressed his lips together, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m happy for you. Henry is a good man and he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I’m really glad that you found someone who can give you what you want.”

Even though I wish I could give you what you needed.

You smiled at him, your eyes glassy. Wedding jitters really were something, huh?

“Guess your life plan really is on its track, isn’t it?” 

You choked out a laugh and he grinned at you warmly, squeezing your hand. He grabbed a tissue from the vanity, pressing it gently against your lower lash line so as to not ruin your make-up. 

“Do you want me to give you away?”

“W-what?”

He flushed, realizing his poor choice of words. 

“Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?” he rephrased and you chuckled drily, shaking your head.

“Oh, um, no. I’m good, thank you.”

Nodding, Bradley stood to leave, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, holding onto your shoulder a bit too long than necessary before walking towards the door. He paused, just before crossing over the threshold, turning back like he wanted to say something. Bradley took a deep breath, his lips parted, the words almost tumbling out of his mouth, before he shut his mouth and just like that, he stepped out of the room, the falling shut behind him quietly.

Bradly breathed out harshly, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering if you were thinking about the same thing he was.

“Where is this going, Bradley?”

Bradley’s been ordered for a special deployment overseas. It was all hush-hush, and he didn’t know how long it was going to take and it made you face the impending doom of your relationship. Honestly, he  knew it was stupid to start something with you in the first place. From the first time you talked, you had made it clear that you wanted to find a good man and settle down, have a family and a house with a white picket fence.

Something he could never give you. 

He was still young when his father had died, but he grew up watching his mother juggle with the job of a parent, a job that was supposed to be filled by two parents. Bradley swore that he’d never do this to anyone he loved, that he’d never settle down and have a family himself. 

You didn’t have time to date someone and “see where this is going”. Even so, Bradley had always orbited you, drawn to your carefree attitude and your fierce loyalty towards the people you loved. His stance on settling down was about the only thing that held the two of you back. Instead, you danced around each other, flirted mercilessly, were friends. 

Just friends.

But after a night full of tequila shots and Bradley on the piano, he got weak. And he’d been weak ever since.

Things with you were simple, and it was almost scary how the two of you fell into a relationship that was so intense and burning, he should have known that this would blow up in his face one day.

“What do you mean? The mission isn’t going to take forever, half a year tops. You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?”

He pulled one of his signature Hawaiian shirts out of his closet and threw it over his tank top, barely paying attention to the conversation. 

“Bradley, I am serious.”

With a glance over his shoulder, Bradley took one look at your face, before he crossed the distance between you, sitting on the bed. Lifting his hand, he stroked your cheek gently, a somber look on his face. 

“I want to get married.”

The words visibly cut him and Bradley immediately shut down, shaking his head as he pulled his hand away. Deep down, he’d known that this conversation was coming. He had been pushing it off, distracting you with slow kisses and wandering hands, but there was no pushing it off now. “You know I don’t want to. You’ve always known. Why are you bringing this up?”

“You’ve always known what I wanted, Bradley. What is it, what we’re doing here? Are we just gonna keep dating until we’re old?”

“Why are you turning this into an argument?” Bradley asked defensively, his cheeks turning red, like every time he got mad. “Fine, we both knew going into this that we’ve had different plans for the future, but I thought-”

“You thought what? That I’d just abandon the life I’ve always wanted?”

“This isn’t fair,” Bradley snapped. “Why can’t you respect my decision? It’s perfectly normal not to want to get married.”

“I respect your decision,” you said calmly and Bradley paused, his chest heaving as all the anger suddenly left his body. 

“Then what’s all this about?”

“It’s about me respecting my decision and what I want. And-...” you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. Bradley’s eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say. “I think we have to break up.”

“Now, hold on-”

“Do you want to get married? To me?”

“You know it’s not about you,” Bradley pressed, his breath quickening. “It’s- I am doing this for you!”

“It’s a simple question, Bradley.” 

He opened his mouth, making a sound at the back of his throat, his eyes wide. Bradley didn’t really say anything, but it was enough for you to know. You smiled sadly, tears welling up in your eyes as you put your hands on his shoulders. “Maybe in another life… Maybe we will get our happy end then.” Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, you left the room quietly, left him. 

Bradley sat there for an hour, stupidly waiting as if you’d come back, even though he knew you weren’t.

The break up had been hard. But he knew that you made the decision with a clear head. It wasn’t fair of you to want him to change his mind on a principle he was set on and it wasn’t fair of Bradley to expect you to give up on marriage. Even though you went no contact with him, he had thought of you every single day while he was on deployment and when Bradley got back, he just begged for another one until he got shipped off to Japan.

When he got called back to Top Gun and bumped into Callie, he couldn’t help asking about you and somehow the two of you were drawn back together, like you were destined to be in his life. And when he first heard about your engagement from Callie, Bradley thought about going to your place and stealing you away, begging you to take him back. 

Bradley wiped his sweaty hands as he walked between the chairs in the venue, before sitting down. He was jittery, and with Jake on the chair next to him, that probably wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“You sure you can make it through the ceremony?”

Bradley detected a hint of concern in the other man’s voice and he gave him a nervous smile, nodding. Jake clapped his leg gently, not entirely convinced, but there wasn’t any time to question him further, as the wedding march started playing. Bradley, along with the other guests, stood up. Your bridesmaids floated down the aisle where Henry was already next to the minister, looking perfectly fine in his steamed suit. The entire wedding party looked like a match-made in heaven, dressed in soft colors, but when you appeared at the end of the aisle?

You took his breath away. 

As you slowly walked past all of your guests, Bradley felt the sudden urge to grab your arm and run, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other.  You gave him a small smile when you passed him and the one he returned was rather crummy. It should’ve been him waiting for you at the altar. 

God, he was a mess. 

Henry offered you his hand when you reached the bottom of the stairs, and together you ascended, stopping in front of the minister. 

“Could you maybe try and sit still?” Jake hissed to Bradley’s side, but he could barely hear him. The minister was droning on and on as the happy couple stood at the front of the venue, but all Bradley could hear was the blood rushing to his ears. He thought he could do it, sit through the entirety of your wedding ceremony, congratulate you after and have a few drinks at the party, maybe even dance. But now that he was sitting here, watching you get married to another man? He thought he was going to get sick. 

You and Henry turned around to look at your guests, smiles on your faces. Bradley’s mouth dropped open, and he suddenly felt so hot.

“And you, Y/N’s and Henry’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, respond we will.”

“We will.” 

The two words got stuck in his throat, even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have uttered them. For a split-second, your eyes met Bradley’s and he shifted in his seat. You were smiling, but the smile never really reached your eyes. Taking a deep breath, Bradley shook his hands out before suddenly standing up. There was rustling between the seats as everyone turned to stare at him and Bradley started sweating when you furrowed your brows. Bradley opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” Jake hissed, gently tugging on Bradley’s hand before he sat down again. Bradley exhaled deeply, wringing his hands and you blinked at him nervously, before turning back around, while Henry frowned at him for a second too long. 

He knew that his friends were staring at him and Natasha leaned forward, subtly shaking her head at him, a horrified look on her face. But Bradley felt like he was suffocating if he didn’t speak up right now.

His hands were shaky as he got up once more, but his voice was strong, as it echoed through the room.

“Please don’t marry him.”

The minister stopped mid-sentence, and suddenly all eyes were on Bradley again. The silence was almost unbearable, his skin was prickling at the shocked and angry faces of everyone around him, but he had his eyes fixed on you. You were the only one that mattered.

“I love you,” Bradley said and the commotion he caused was nearly comical. “I made a mistake. I should’ve asked you to marry me the first time we kissed, because that was when I knew that I never wanted to spend a day without you ever again. I never should have let you leave, I should have fought for you. For us. I realize my timing is kind of shitty. I’m sorry it took me having to see you almost getting married to someone else to realize that,” Bradley swallowed thickly. “Don’t marry him. Please.”

When all of the words rushed out of his mouth, Bradley was relieved and terrified at the same time. Next to him, his friends’ reactions varied from covering their faces from embarrassment, mouth agape from the shock and just pure rage from Natasha. You were staring at him with wide eyes, your lower lip trembling. The tension was palpable and the longer it took for you to say something, anything, really at this point, Bradley started sweating, slowly processing what he had done. He was about to turn on his heel and run until he was in Canada when you bunched up the skirt of your wedding dress in your hands. 

Walking down the stairs, you slowly approached him and Bradley held his breath as you stared up at him, face unreadable. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, his heart beating against his ribcage when you suddenly raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

The other guests gasped in shock and stunned, Bradley held his cheek, his mouth dropped open. With a shake of your head, you took off, running down the aisle until you disappeared around the corner. Callie quickly followed suit, giving Bradley a look of disbelief as she passed him. Bradley however was rooted in his spot, and nobody moved, nobody even dared to breathe. 

When Bradley had to eject from his F18 during the mission, it was something he never wanted to experience again. His ears were ringing from the explosion and when he was ejected,  all of the oxygen left his lungs. The air was splitting cold, almost burning against his warm skin and when he slowly parachuted down into the ground, pines and needles scratched up his face, before the freezing snow hit him in all the wrong places. Every single limb was screaming in pain and he was so cold.

This was worse.

Bradley exhaled deeply, trying to loosen the knot in his chest, but it only coiled in tighter, especially when Henry stalked towards him. Bradley hadn’t lied when he told you that he liked Henry, because he did. He was a good man. A good man, who was about to sock him in the face, judging by the way his hands were curled in fists.

Whatever was coming, he’d deserve it. But Bradley squeezed his eyes shut anyway, not wanting to get punched in the eye, and he braced for impact.

But it never came. 

When he opened his eyes again, Jake had his hand wrapped around Henry’s wrist, his face hard. 

“I know you’re angry, but this is not the solution. Walk it off,” Jake said evenly and Henry scoffed out a laugh, turning his wrist out of the other man’s grip. 

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Henry came dangerously close to Bradley, his eyes furious, before he spat at his feet, storming off. Bradley was still frozen. 

“We should probably go,” Javy said, gently pushing Jake so he’d move Bradley. “I know we’re a lot of people, but literally his whole family is here and I am not sure if I can fight Henry’s grandma.”

It was a scuffle to get out between the rows of chairs, and Bradley was of no help, stumbling around like he was drunk, needing his friends to steady him as he walked out, past the guests who were slowly clearing out of the venue as well, throwing dirty looks in his direction. Somehow, he got in the backseat of Javy’s jeep, Jake on the passenger seat while Natasha was to his left, watching him with narrowed eyes.

It was only then, that it slowly started sinking in what he had just done.

“Oh my god…” he moaned, horrified, leaning his head down, burying it between his knees. “What the fuck did I do?”

“What were you thinking?” Natasha , her face contorted in anger. “Do you realize what position you put her in?”

“Trace, not now,” Jake muttered and Natasha leaned back in her seat with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest, staring out of the window. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, and by the time the car rolled to a stop in front of Bradley’s house, he was miserable.

Without waiting, he tumbled out of the car, trudging inside the house, heading straight to the fridge to grab a beer. He’d nearly drunk the entire bottle by the time the others walked inside, almost a complete set. His squadron lined up in front of him, Jake giving Bradley a pitiful look, handing out beers to everyone, giving Bradley a chance to collect his wits, before it inevitably all came crashing down on him.

“That was fucked up, Rooster.”

Out of all the people, he had expected Bob the least, especially with the expletive. He really messed up badly.

“We’ve had her wedding invitation for ages, you had plenty of chances to tell her how you feel, why would you leave it to the last second?” Reuben asked and Bradley dropped his gaze, because he knew he was right.

Logan made a noise. “His timing was shitty, yes, but the way she reacted tells me she had second thoughts.”

“She reacted like that because Bradley put her on the spot, are you fucking joking?” Natasha snapped at him and Logan’s eyes widened, raising his hands defensively. “She’s been dreaming about this day all her life and you just went and fucked it all up, like it was easy.”

“Tash, take it down a notch,” Javy said and Natasha glared at him. 

“No, I am not going to coddle him. He fucked up, big time and he needs to own up to it.”

“Jesus, I know I fucked up, okay?” Bradley suddenly burst out, his breathing heavy. “I shouldn’t have interrupted the ceremony like that and I shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place all those years ago. But it was not easy for me, Natasha, so don’t say it like I did it for shits and giggles!”

Natasha sighed with a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit, though there was still a frown on her forehead. Bradley looked at his friends, who all wore expressions varying between worry and pity, when he realized that there were people missing.

“Where’s Billy and Neil?”

“I think they’re at Callie’s. Things at the venue kind of bombed after we left and she asked them to come help,” Brigham said, purposefully vague and Bradley’s eyes shoot to him immediately.

“Is-?”

Brigham shifted uneasily on his feet, shrugging with his shoulders. “I think so, yeah.”

“Um. I think I’ll go and apologize, right?” Bradley asked, shoving his empty beer bottle on the counter and Mickey made a hesitant noise.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea? Maybe the two of you need space right now?” He said and Reuben nodded, agreeing with his backseater.

“Yeah, I think you need to give her some time. And you should use that time to collect your bearings, too. Get your head sorted.”

Bradley deflated, leaning back against his fridge and Jake gave him a look, before clucking with his tongue. 

“Alright, how about everyone just get changed and get some rest? And then come back, we’ll do dinner back here, that okay, Bradshaw?”

Jake glanced at him, raising an eyebrow and Bradley muttered a yes in response, knowing that he was only trying to help. And it was probably best if he didn’t stay alone right now, or else he’d do something stupid again. Everyone voiced their agreements and then started filtering out of his kitchen, not without clapping Bradley on the shoulder in consolation. 

Pressing the heel of his hand in his eyes, Bradley let out a deep sigh, before looking up at the remaining aviators in his kitchen. Natasha had her arms still crossed, Javy eyeing her like he was considering putting a leash on, Jake just, uncharacteristically worried and Bob.

“I don’t have enough food in my fridge to feed 11 people,” he then said. He barely had any food in his fridge, if he was being honest, since he was supposed to be eating dinner at your wedding. 

“We’ll just pick up pizza later, don’t worry,” Bob said, giving Bradley a small, comforting smile. “You should rest up.”

Bradley nodded, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs into the bedroom, not missing how the hushed conversation started as soon as he left the room.

“- him? He’s a grown man and he made a mistake.”

“You’re kicking him while he’s down, Trace, have a bit of sympathy.”

“That’s rich coming from you, Bagman, I-”

“Hey, let’s just, take a breather, okay?”

The rest of the conversation faded as Bradley climbed up the stairs and finally reached his bedroom, dropping down on the mattress, face first. He was drained, emotionally and physically. His cheek was still stinging from when you bitch-slapped him across the face. Sitting up, Bradley groaned in frustration, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, tugging on his bow tie until it unraveled, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His suit jacket quickly followed, the dress shirt got dropped on the floor, and with a bit of resistance, his dress pants got discarded on the floor as well. Grabbing the nearest piece of clothing, he threw on a black shirt and some sweats, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest. Bradley took a deep breath, that was too shaky for his liking, his skin was itching and he was just way too warm. 

He had to get out of there. 

Getting to his feet, Bradley tumbled down the stairs, only stopping briefly in the door to the kitchen, his friends freezing when they saw him. Bradley was sure he looked like a lunatic.

“I need some air,” he gasped out, before disappearing out back through his backward, ignoring the calls.

“Bradley!”

Bradley walked in quick strides, hoping none of them would follow him outside as he cut through the neighborhood until he reached the beach, the salty air filling his lungs. His feet sank into the sand, seagulls crowed as they dove past him and Bradley finally felt a sense of peace in his body. 

Taking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes, only to see your face staring back at him, your hand shaking as you raised it to slap him across the face. Wincing, Bradley forced his eyes open again, the tension back in his shoulders. He had to apologize. Turning his back, he stared into the direction of his house, knowing that there was no way the others would let him go, so he had no other choice but to walk to Callie’s house. It was a two hours walk, minimum, but he could use the fresh air to find the right words. 

By the time he trudged up the walk-way to Callie’s house, it was dark, the sun had set about half an hour ago, right about the same time he got cold. Pressing the doorbell, Bradley rolled his shoulders back, confident that he had found the right words to apologize to you, when Callie opened the door. 

Fuck.

“You got some nerve coming here,” Callie bit at him, glaring. “You know damn well I can kick your ass, and don’t think I wouldn’t just because you’re Natasha’s best friend.”

“I don’t think that she would mind,” he admitted, his voice small. “Can I please talk to her?”

“Why? So you can break her heart all over again?”

Bradley’s heart sank and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “I’m- I just want to apologize. Please. She doesn’t even have to talk to me, I don’t even have to see her, I can talk to her through the door, just- I need her to know that I’m sorry.”

Callie stared him down for at least a minute, before she stepped to the side to let him in. 

“If she doesn’t want to talk to you, you best believe I will kick your ass out of here,” she called after him as he headed inside, waving awkwardly at Billy and Neil who were sitting in the living room. Billy was unimpressed and Neil only sighed when Callie pointed him towards the first floor. 

“She’s upstairs, second bedroom to the right.”

“Thanks,” Bradley said meekly, walking up the stairs until he stood in front of the closed door. There were small sounds coming from the room and he knocked on the door gently, nervously. 

“I am not hungry, Callie,” you called from inside the room, your voice congested. Like you had been crying. Bradley contemplated turning on his heel to leave, not wanting to hurt you even more, but he breathed in deeply, before speaking. 

“It’s me.”

He heard you inhale sharply and he leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the middle of the ceremony. I just- I thought I could be happy for you, see you off with Henry and maybe even have a few drinks with you, toasting to the new chapter of your life. But when I saw you up there with him. I couldn’t take it. I am not sorry about what I said, because I meant every word. But I am sorry for ruining your wedding and putting you on the spot like that. It was unfair and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley said softly, sighing quietly. 

There was no reaction on the other side of the door and Bradley accepted that he had done all he could do. 

“I’m really sorry…” he added, before taking a step back, clearing his throat.

Suddenly, the door unlocked and he had an armful of you, beating against his chest with your hands. 

“Do you know how long it took for me to accept the fact that you weren’t going to marry me, Bradley? Ages, YEARS! I was completely heartbroken when we broke up and it took me so long to get back out there, telling myself that I would find someone. When Henry proposed to me, a tiny part of me thought that maybe you would come to your senses and tell me to call off the engagement. Hell, even in the bridal room, I kept thinking that maybe you were going to stop me, tell me that you loved me and that you wanted to marry me. You had so many chances, Bradley. I gave you so many opportunities to catch up with me, and when I finally closed the door on you, you chose the worst possible moment to kick it down screaming?”

The hits against his chest grew weaker and weaker, until you were just clawing at his shirt, breaking down against his body. Bradley wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but silent tears were running down his cheeks as he held you. For a while, the both of you just stood there in silence, both in tears until you pushed yourself out of his arms, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.  

Your eyes were rimmed red, and your skin was still glistening with tears, but to Bradley you have never looked more beautiful. 

“You stink,” you said and Bradley let out a water laugh, his chest rumbling. 

“Yeah, I walked here.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “From your house?”

“From my house.”

You hummed, biting on your lip. Bradley reached out to comb your messy hair back, his fingers getting tangled in the knots, before stroking his thumb over your cheek gently.

“Have you talked to Henry?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. He lost it. Said that I embarrassed him in front of his entire family and friends. I think he’s still getting drunk at the venue with his boys. My dad almost got in a fist fight with him.”

Bradley smiled at the thought of your father, barely 5’5, trying to take on Henry, who was almost six feet tall. He noticed how you left out how things were between you and Henry, though Bradley didn’t let himself get his hopes up too much. 

“Is it too late?” he asked softly and your eyes found his, unshed tears on your lower lash line. “Am I too late?”

Sighing deeply, you dropped your gaze. “Do you want to get married?”

“I don’t. But I want to get married to you.”

Squawking, you gave him a shove and Bradley stumbled a few steps back, beaming at you. He knelt down in front of you and making you flush.

“Bradley, get up.”

“I am serious. I meant every word I said. If you’ll have me, I will marry the shit out of you. I will make you the best Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw,” Bradley said earnestly and you stared at him with wide eyes. 

“... Okay then.”

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I’m not getting younger and my other engagement just fell through-”

Bradley gave you a look, but he nosed along your ring finger, pressing a soft kiss on your skin before standing up, lifting you up with him. You laughed and there were still dried streaks of tears on your cheeks, there were so many obstacles he had to overcome, but he’d take it all, if it meant having you in the end.

author's note: whoop. sorry. this got angstier than I intended. anyways, you know the drill. SHARE! COMMENT! REBLOG!!

[trybeforeyoudeny]

“C’mon Ed’s, there’s gotta be someone here that catches your eye.”

Nancy had dragged her best friend all the way to Indy with the promise of finding him a suitable match- much to Eddie’s dismay. He didn’t want to find a match. He knows he’s not exactly the type of guy people are interested in, even at the gay bar they’re currently drinking at.

What’s worse is the thought of actually finding someone that he’s interested in here just to go back to Hawkins once the weekend is over and wallow in his own self-pity.

“Nope, no one,” he replies dryly before downing the rest of his beer.

“Hmph,” she lets out an irritated noise before raising her glass to her lips, peaking over the top to scope out the crowd. “What about him?” She juts her chin out.

“Who are you… him? Are you serious?” He scowls when his eyes land on the man she’s looking at. He’s practically a ken doll in real life with slicked-back blonde hair and icy blue eyes that are cutting through him from across the bar.

“What? Not into the pretty boy type?” She raises a brow at him and continues her search.

“Obviously not! What about me says that’s my-”he pauses mid-sentence, jaw slacked as he looks past the ken doll and sees the most beautiful man he’s ever laid eyes on.

“What were you saying about that not being your type?” She smirks.

“What? I- oh, shut up!” He groans, not taking his eyes off the brunette on the dance floor.

“Wait, he looks familiar. Eddie, is that-“

“Steve Harrington?!” His eyes widen and his heart drops.

It’s been nearly a decade since graduation but the constellation of moles on his neck and body- Jesus H. Christ, that crop top is doing things to him- and those honeyed brown eyes are all he needs to confirm it’s him, king Steve. But what the hell is he doing here?

“He’s certainly caught your eye,” Nancy snorts from beside him, nudging him up off his seat.

“What the hell are you doing?” He nearly shrieks as she pushes him in the direction of the dance floor.

“What do you think I’m doing? Go talk to him!”

“I can’t just go talk to Steve Harrington, Nance. He’s probably not even gay! He’s gotta be here with someone else playing as their wingman,” he scours the mess of sweaty bodies, searching for anyone else he may know.

“Ha! See? Buckleys here as well! He must be with her,” he smiles proudly but it drops quickly when he feels himself still being ushered away.

“Just go Ed, you don’t have to shove your tongue down his throat, just make conversation,” she urges him, pleading at him with her eyes to give it a chance. To let someone in.

“Fine, whatever. I won’t say I told you so when I’m back here in two minutes with a bruised eye and an even more bruised ego,” he rolls his eyes and shuffles his way towards the crowd, twisting and turning his way around people until he’s stood right in front of the jock himself.

Eddie had always hated Steve in high school- at least that’s what he told himself to hide the embarrassingly huge crush he had on him growing up.

Towards the end of his final senior year, they ran in very similar circles yet hardly interacted face to face. He hated the way the kids absolutely raved about him and his jealousy got in the way of ever giving him a fair chance even when they ended up at the same events as one another. There had been birthdays, graduations, Joyce and hoppers wedding- and though they’d be in close proximity they hardly acknowledged each other.

Eventually, he had heard that he and Robin moved to Indie and had accepted the fact that they would never get the chance to grow their relationship past anything more than reluctant acquaintances.

Standing in front of him now he’s seeing a much different side of Steve. The Steve he knew was a ladies man- a polo-wearing jock who was the captain of the swim team and floated through school without as much as a turned-up nose in his direction while Eddie was the Satan worshipping freak, a name given to him by his lovely classmates.

The Steve standing in front of him now was a completely different person. He’s wearing denim shorts and a cropped top, remnants of glitter scattered across his cheeks like kisses. Eddie has to stop himself from chuckling at the idea of Robin pinning Steve down to apply it, and… eyeliner?!

Eddie feels like he’s about to pass away on the spot and he forgets how to breathe.

“Hello?”

Oh. Oh shit. Right. He’s supposed to be saying something right now, not gawking at him.

“Um, hi?” It comes out like a question and he wants to slap a hand against his forehead. Why did he let Nancy drag him into this situation?

Before he can come up with anything to say Steve’s leaning in oh so close with a smirk on his face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind Eddie’s ear before whispering into it, “do you come here often? I haven’t seen you here before and I’d definitely remember you.”

Eddie nearly scoffs at that because clearly, Steve isn’t remembering him.

“It’s my first time, big boy,” he responds swiftly, a sideways grin painted on his face.

There’s a flash of something in Steve’s eyes when the nickname leaves his lips and Eddie is beginning to realize that Steve may not be as straight as he previously assumed. And well… he doesn’t know what to do with that information.

“What’s your name, handsome?” Steve purrs while twirling one of Eddie’s loose curls around his finger.

“Eddie,” he deadpans, waiting to see if anything clicks for Steve.

It does.

Steve freezes, dropping Eddie’s curl before taking a step back and looking him up and down.

“Eddie,” Steve echoes, big doe eyes widening at the realization.

Eddie looks different now but he’s still the same Eddie he crushed on in the eighties. His hair is cut slightly shorter now and is pulled up into a wild bun with loose curls flying free around his face. His style has toned down since high school but it’s still so Eddie.

He’s still got his dark ripped jeans but his battle vest is traded in for a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, the arm holes dipping low enough to show off the new tattoos covering his ribs. He wants to reach out and touch them.

“So you do remember me, Harrington!” Eddie teases, setting Steve on fire.

“I-yes, of course I do Eddie. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you at first… I think I’ve had too many of those fruity cocktails,” he admits.

“I suppose I’ll forgive you just this once,” Eddie chides, “if you’ll buy my next drink.”

“That I can do,” Steve smiles and oh… oh god his smile. Was it always this breathtaking?

The pair head back to the bar where they find Robin and Nancy deep in conversation, both of them leaning in close and giggling way too much for this to be a casual chat so they sneak past them and don’t interrupt.

Steve orders them both a colourful drink with a little umbrella sticking out of it, something Eddie would never have ordered for himself but he’s delightfully surprised when he takes a sip of the fruity concoction.

“What brings you to Indy?” Steve questions with a tilt of his head.

“Uhh,” he rubs the back of his head nervously. “Honestly, Nance dragged me out here to try to meet some guys. Hawkins isn’t exactly the best place to meet other gay men, y’know?”

“Oh I definitely know,” Steve nods and Eddie feels a weight lift off his chest at the response. “Part of the reason Rob and I moved out here was to be apart of a better community. Although it was hard to leave the kids, Joyce, hop… you.”

“Me?” Eddie’s eyes widen and he jolts back a bit as if he’s been electrocuted. “We weren’t… I mean, we were never close…”

“Yeah but I still had a big stupid crush on you,” Steve admits out loud, so causally that Eddie thinks he must have misheard him until he looks up and sees the nervous look on Steve's face as he awaits some sort of response.

“I… you had a crush on me?” He points between them for emphasis as he speaks.

“Mhm, a giant one. You were kinda my bi-awakening dude,” Steve laughs nervously, hiding his blush behind his drink.

Eddie short circuits.

He can’t believe what he’s hearing but Steve sounds so genuine he has no choice but to believe every word he says.

Had he been blind? Were there signs of Steve’s feelings that he hadn’t noticed? He thinks back to the late summer barbecues in the Hoppers back yard, how Steve always seemed to sit next to him at the picnic tables even when there were other places to sit. How Steve was always quick to offer up his house for the D&D campaigns when he didn’t have to, how he’d driven him back and forth to work for a week straight in 1987 when his van broke down even though the two of them had never spent time alone before that.

He always assumed the little things steve did was because of the kids, because of Dustin. That he was trying to be kind to Eddie because the party cared about them both and he wanted harmony within the group.

Looking back he feels like an idiot.

“Well, between you and me,” Eddie leans in close and Steve leans into it. “You were my gay awakening back in like, middle school man.”

“Middle school?” Steve pulls away with wide eyes.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, finishing off the rest of his drink to get some liquid courage before continuing. “Eight grade, swim team,” Eddie whistles, leaning back in his seat. “Let’s just say I had no interest in swimming.”

Steve lets out a bark of laughter, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

“So why didn’t you talk to me?”

“Are you kidding? I don’t think eighth-grade Harrington would have taken well to the freak having a crush on him.”

Steve winces and Eddie immediately regrets what he said, albeit it is the truth.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he nods slowly. “I’m sorry. I was an asshole back then.”

“You were a kid,” Eddie shrugs. “Clearly you’ve changed. I should have noticed that you were different all those years ago… before you moved away.” But I didn’t want to, he wants to add but doesn’t dare say it aloud.

“Still-“

“Ah ah! Nope, it’s in the past,” he cuts him off before Steve has the chance to spiral. “But now that we’re here, I’d like to get to know the real you more,” he hope he doesn’t sound too forward or worse, desperate.

“I’d like to get the real you as well,” Steve blushes back and Eddie feels as though he might combust. “Why don’t we get out of here? Go somewhere quieter?”

“I’d love to,” Eddie replies, looking down at his lap to hide the heat raising in his own cheeks.

Steve extends his hand to help Eddie down from the tall stool and they make their way out of the bar, giggling and leaning into each other's space, hopeful and excited.

[kelseytheballerina]

Heyy so Starting by being straight up and admitting that envy is an ugly habit I have. I see people who grew up with money living their best life and I get hurt and mad because I'm working my ass off just trying to get by, or I see an attractive woman and feel like crap. Its something I'm recognizing as a problem and I want to stop. I saw a post where you said something about being inspired and motivated by women who are better off/more successful/prettier/etc instead of comparing and getting jealous. How do you actually put that into practice and acheive that mindset?

totally, so basically I would just look at it as inspiration and proof of an outcome. a lot of our desires can be based on theory. the possibility of having this or going there or excelling in this way. but we don’t technically know if we could pull it off or if it’s ever been done before with a specific set of conditions, so our goals and desires are just a theory. for example, maybe you desire to be a mom-model-actress-ceo under 25 and you see a woman literally become just that. I wouldn’t be like “grrrr how dare she have what I want” I would be happy that I now have proof that what I want is in the realm of possibility and there is a path that has been laid out should I choose to use hers as a blueprint. people will likely be more accepting of me doing the same thing since there’s already been someone who has come before me and been successful. plus, now you could have a potential peer who becomes a potential friend when you are in the same circle. when it comes to beauty, there’s so many girls out there being unapologetically into beauty care so now people won’t be weirded out when I start showing up with nails and hair and cute clothes because they have helped break down the taboo. so it’s more of an appreciation for them trailblazing a path or showing time and time again that something is possible and here’s what it looks like for a 35 year old and a 60 year old and a 19 year old and a white American and a black American and a Nigerian Brit and so on and so forth. it’s inspirational data.

it’s like, I now know I’m not crazy and my aspirations are attainable at least to a degree (factoring in variables like where you’re born and parents you’re born to, etc) so all I have to do is stay on track and I’ll be there too some day. when I’m studying over and over and wondering if this is even real and then I see a classmate got an A, I feel better knowing that I’m not screaming into the void and that the outcome I seek is actually a reality. I no longer feel like I’m rowing in open water of uncharted territory. this land has been conquered before and that’s great! so maybe I won’t get skin exactly like hers but I’ll get close. maybe I won’t get her salary at the same age she did but even if I have to work an extra 5 years I’ll be glad I was inspired by her to keep going. maybe you didn’t consider the possibility of having certain things until you saw that woman with it and now your mindset has been expanded to have more out of life.

I feel like when you’re envious, there’s a part of you deep down that will secretly wish for someone’s downfall, even if you’re friends with them because it’s a “me vs you and there can only be one” mentality. which means you’ll be likely to think everyone else is secretly out to get you too or the world is conspiring against you when it’s nothing of the sort. but when you have an “I’m happy for you and patiently waiting my turn” mentality, you’re more likely to see the blessings happening to you in action, you’re more likely to be a positive person around such women and they’d more likely want to be around you and help you come up with them rather than feeling some sort of repressed hater energy.

I always just remember that none of us are on the same timeline and not everyone peaks at the same age. some are late bloomers, some have more barriers in the way, but that just means you will end up being someone else’s inspiration one day when they find interest in your variables and outcome. let your journey be what it will be and keep your mind open to the wisdom you’re collecting along the way. if it took you 3 years to clear your skin up, you’ll have waaaay more insight on the topic than someone who’s only ever experienced the occasional breakout and let’s say you wanted to turn that into a skincare YouTube channel or something, you’d have more success than someone with nothing to say. what I mean by that is, sometimes the ones with the long journeys that feel unfavorable in the moment end up blooming into an unforeseen opportunity in the future.

envy is never worth it. it just makes the journey more miserable than it needs to be and pushes people away.

[jake-g-lockley]

Can I get prompt #19 with Jake lockley, I’m obsessed with the way you write him.

Afternoon Sun (Jake Lockley x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist | Want to be tagged?

Prompt: ARGUING!!!!! then a heated “kiss me.” and suddenly their hands are all over each other Warning: Alcohol abuse, mentions of past trauma, Jake is a mess in this one, angst. A/N: Thanks for the ask!!! lul im sorry for this. I made the prompt slightly softer cuz everyone’s hurtin’ but I hope you like this xxx Word count: 1.7k

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hear the door slam and you sigh knowing what you had to deal with tonight. You kept your eyes trained on your book as a figure wobbled in the bedroom. The smell of alcohol wafted toward you and you flinched, remembering the way your father used to drink.

“He won’t see me if I don’t move.” you think, staying as still as possible despite the way your hands betrayed you, shaking as they gripped the book in front of you tighter.

Jake Lockley has never hurt you. He might hate you, but he would never, ever hurt you. Nevertheless, your past gave you a fight or flight response that you couldn’t kick no matter how persistently you went to therapy. Your lip trembled as you shook, tears cascading down your face uncontrollably as memories flooded back to you.

You loved Steven and Marc, they treated you like you were their queen, feeding you love and affection that you never knew you deserved. They knew about your past and they tried their best to help you but were slowly failing by the way their alter was acting up. Steven and Marc found out about Jake long after you started dating them. That was when your nightmare started.

Jake would throw tantrums and run away, only to return hours later drunk out of his mind. He never said a word to you, never asked for help, instead turning away from you and flopping onto the sofa, only for one of the other two to wake up and suffer the consequences. You were on the verge of leaving them and they both could tell it was taking a strain on your relationship.

Your eyes dared to leave your book and meet Jake’s, who was already staring at you, his eyes drooping. He sent you a smirk and hiccuped, falling onto the sofa as usual. Suddenly, you felt sad, oddly enough not for yourself but for Jake. Your mind raced, playing back what Marc had said about his own past, one almost similar to yours, except you didn’t have an altar and you were afraid of alcohol. You had learned about alcohol use disorder and it made you stay clear of alcohol, afraid that you would become like your father and waste your life away. A small glimmer of hope lit up inside your head as you brought yourself to shut your book and climb off the bed.

You cautiously approached the sofa and watched as Jake’s hand twitched from how it was sticking up from where he was lying down. You peaked over a cushion and watched Jake’s face for any sign of aggression. All you saw was the same tired face Steven had whenever he had a long day and your heart broke a little more at the state that Jake was putting them through. You gathered your courage and went around to the front, sitting opposite Jake.

“Pst, Jake, wake up.” you said, softly, and when you had no response, you repeated it a little louder, causing him to jump.

You jumped with him but you resisted the urge to hide as your eyes met his bloodshot ones.

“What do you want?” he croaked, scowling at you.

“I need you to sober up.” you said, trying the gentle approach.

Jake just turned over like a stubborn child and you scowled at him, angry at the way he was treating you. You got up and pulled his arm, causing him to drop to the floor with a groan.

“You little-”

“Go on, Jake, call me all the names you want, hit me, I dare you. I’m fucking used to it. I don’t care, I need my boyfriends back and that means that I need you back.” you said firmly, taking the drunk Jake by surprise.

He suddenly had an expression on his face that you did not recognise. He looked up at you, his eyes wide with fear as his hands shook in front of him.

“I-i don’t know how…” he whispered, his big wet eyes searching yours.

“I’ll get you through it, Jake, I promise.” you said, holding your hand out for him to take.

When he reluctantly did, you pulled him up, steadying him as he swayed slightly. You lead him to the toilet and sit him down on the seat, filling him a glass of water to quickly gulp down. Once he did, he held the glass out to you, unsure of what to do next. You had already prepped his toothbrush, wetting it before squeezing a pea sized amount of toothpaste and handing it to him. He slowly brushed his teeth, occasionally leaning over the sink to spit. Tears were flowing steadily from his eyes and you promised yourself that you would wipe them away once you had him settled down.

You handed him a cup of mouthwash and told him to gargle a few times. He did as he was told and you found yourself relaxing at the feeling that he was listening to you. Once he was done, you realised that he was sobering up fast, from the way his hands stopped shaking and his tears slowed. You left him standing there and you went into the closet, picking out Steven’s softest jumper and Marc’s comfiest sweats along with a towel before handing it to Jake.

“Shower. Properly.” he nodded at your words and you shut the door behind you as you exited, giving him some privacy.

You heard soft sobs coming from the shower and you felt horrible for Jake. Maybe you should have faced your fears and done this earlier, maybe it would not have put such a strain on him. You didn’t realise your own tears were flowing until you heard the shower shut and you hastily rubbed your eyes and wiped your face before Jake could see you. You stood up as he emerged from the bathroom clad in the clothes you handed him, his hair still wet. You stood up and pulled his towel, draping it over his head before dying his hair. His hand comes up to yours and stops you.

“I don’t need this.” Jake simply said, his voice the clearest you have ever heard.

“You need this.” you insisted and continued to towel his hair.

“You’re not mine, you don’t owe me this after all I have done!” he yells, wrenching the towel from his head and throwing it to the floor.

“I owe myself this, Jake!” you find yourself yelling back at him, gripping the collar of Steven’s jumper. “After all I have gone through, I think I deserve much better, but I’m still here.”

“Then go! Leave!” he pleads, desperately.

You couldn’t believe your luck. This was the second person you’ve met on this planet that had such a selfish attitude and you could not help but put him in his place.

“Don’t you dare make decisions for me, Lockley.” you warned, glaring up at him. “I’m here to help you and this is all you have to say?”

“I’m scared of hurting you.” Jake whispered and a single tear left his eyes and dropped onto your hand that was grabbing him at the collar.

It made you drop your hand, as if his tears were made of acid. But you found yourself bringing your hand up to his face and swiping your thumb under his eyes. He leaned into your touch and closed his eyes, forcing all of the tears that had collected out of his waterline to drop down all at once.

“I am not scared because I know you have enough in you to be rational, Jake.” you whisper.

He shook his head and hoped that action could cause your comfort to disappear. Jake was not used to this level of affection and he was feeling overwhelmed.

“Jake, please, I want to learn how to love you, please just teach me and let me learn how to love you.” you were crying now, trying to keep your voice levelled.

“I-i don’t… you can’t possibly…” Jake tried to say through his tears.

“I can and I will, I promise that I will but I need you to see that too, please.” you said.

“Too pure… I won’t ruin you too…” he tried to turn away from you.

You pulled him back with all of your strength and stared into his eyes.

“Just kiss me, Jake, and I’ll show you.” you pulled your last card and threw it at him with the force of ten suns, making him stop in his tracks.

It was soft at first, the second Jake’s lips hit yours. You had felt these lips before but they were different. They felt like they held more sadness in them, the way they worked against yours. He turned his head and pushed on deeper, kissing you properly now, his nose digging painfully against your cheek. You could taste his tears on his lips and him yours.

You softly ran your hands through his wet curls, the same way you would with Marc and Steven and it elicited a loud sigh against your mouth from Jake, one that held so much exhaustion that your eyes filled with tears again. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, a final act of desperation as he seeks out all of your consolation.

You pulled away slowly and leaned your forehead against Jake’s as sobs wracked his body once again. You held onto his hands and laced your fingers with his, gripping them hard, a promise that you would never ever let him go. Once he got a little calmer, you led him to the bed and you lay down before he gently placed his head on your chest. You sang him soft songs as sleep caught him up quickly and once he was fully asleep, you placed a long lingering kiss on his forehead and succumbed to sleep yourself.

Jake woke up in the body, with his head still on your chest. He heard Steven shushing Marc at the back of his head and he smiled up at your sleeping face. The afternoon sun bathed the both of you in a beautiful glow and Jake traced your cheek with the back of his fingers, willing to never see a tear cascade down them as long as he saw the light of day.

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~~

[v3nusxsky]

Hii hope your doing well :)

if your up to writing requests can I request a fic where R is in a maths exam and its really stressing her out so she slips to a really little headspace and the teacher won’t let R leave maybe beacuse they think she’s faking it or something to get out of the test. so Larissa and/or Marilyn comes in and saves R and gives lots of cuddles and comfort and tells the teacher off. Then they go back to Larissas office and R gets take care of and looked after and its all sweet and fluffy.

Sorry for the long request and have a good day :)

<3

- ⭐️

Stressful situations

*Authors note~ we are gonna be Marilyn’s Teaching aid for a botany exam so not a student but a member of staff so we can be in a relationship with weems. I’m in an educational setting for placement which is why I changed it slightly I hope you don’t mind.*

Trigger warnings~ Agere little fem r cg Larissa cg ish Marilyn crappy invigilator stress cg Marilyn r and Marilyn are besties Marilyn isn’t laurel

Prompt~ see ask^^

The most stressful time of year for anyone in an educational setting as adults is a tie between the Christmas holidays and exam season. For assistants like you it was always the exam season that got you stressed the most. From the teachers being stressed with all things exams and the students being in various states of overwhelmed and burnt out coming to you for support. Safe to say you hate exam season but you always try your best to be as helpful as possible which is one of the reasons Marilyn became your best friend. You are her right hand woman when it comes to anything in school or personal life and she considered you a great friend.

Working with your best friend is great, until you realise you can’t hide from your girlfriend here either. See Larissa Weems, your ever loving partner, is the principal of Nevermore. Marilyn being your trusted friend soon meant she became one of Larissa’s too. And over time Marilyn learnt your secret and how to spot the signs too, you didn’t mind her knowing but now when your trying to hide from Larissa so she won’t notice, it’s more of a curse and not a blessing.

This exam Wednesday and Bianca have been particularly difficult, if one asked for a pen then the other was right behind asking for the same. If one noticed that the other had managed to race ahead questions then the other was racing to catch up while trying to sneakily out each other off. A constant need to one up another has you running back and forth the exam hall. A peak at the clock reveals you are unable to leave the room for another hour. But now with how overwhelmed and exhausted you are you aren’t sure you’ll make it.

You’d have to. The head invigilator looked at you like you’d grown three heads when you’d ask to get some air. It’s not unheard of that helpers for exam season would try to leave or get off the job early but you couldn’t help feeling the need to slip. But no. The guy stood firm in his answer and simply told you to stop being a drama queen and do your damn job. Fortunately, for you, Marilyn over heard everything and immediately pressed her little button on her pager to get Larissa here.

Being called to the exam hall as a principal is never a good thing, truly the blonde is getting a little tired of threatening Miss Addams with expulsion from Nevermore. But arriving at the hall tells her one thing, it’s not a professional call as Marilyn walks towards her with a sad smile and simple gesture towards you. There you stood desperately trying to keep control over your headspace and not break down crying but the two women just knew you didn’t have much more strength to give. “Thank you Miss Thornhill, come to my office when you’re done here.”

“Hi sweet girl” Larissa whispered as she stood in front of you, “look at me darling” she commanded and you did so instantly with tear’s shining in your eyes. “Let’s get out of her dear” was all it took to snap you out of the haze. “Can’t. Won’t let me” you mumbled stepping back from the woman. “He won’t stop you my love, come with me.” But of course as you start to leave the boss once again asked you what on earth you’re doing trying to leave only to be shut up with a quick few words from Larissa before she guides you out of the room.

Leaving the exam hall immediately triggered your headspace to slip at an almost instant pace but that’s okay because Larissa would ensure your safety and you knew that with your whole heart. With a hand on the small of your back, Larissa guided you towards her office with an ease that only came with experience, a gentle hand guiding you home. “It’s okay my darling, you can let it happen now love” she murmured making sure to shut the door and usher you further into her office.

As expected you broke down into harsh sobs that violently tore through your body. The sight alone caused the Principals heart to clench in sadness as she scooped you into her arms and cocooned you with her whole presence while whispering sweet praises in your ear in a hopes that maybe her scent and the words would help aid her in calming you down. You sat in the womans lap hands tightly wrapped in her blazer as if she was going to disappear at any moment, attempting to infuse your body to hers.

That almost seemed to do the trick until the sound of a gentle knock startled you, eyes flickering up to the woman whom you entrusted your life for an answer. “It’s just Mari sweetheart. I know my little one loves her Mari don’t you? Hmm?” She murmured before calling out to the red head to enter.

“How is our little star doing?” If anyone can calm you down it’s your girlfriend but on the occasions that Larissa had to rush off to a board meeting or deal with another Addams saga of trouble you knew Marilyn would act as her stand in. A fact that had taken adjustment from all parties but worked like a well oiled machine.

Instead of Larissa answering you mumbled into the woman that you were tired causing both women to be shocked, normally you wouldn’t involve yourself in this conversation, happy to just soak up Larissa’s attention before she had to hurry off. “I’m sorry darling girl, mama has to go to a meeting little love, do you think Mari can sit with you till I’m back? We will nap after that love” Larissa whispered causing you do whimper at the word go. “No mama I don’t like that” would’ve hurt Marilyn if she wasn’t so use to this routine, eventually you’d end up sitting closely, head leaning on her shoulder as you attempted to colour your mama a masterpiece. However, neither woman found it easy to watch you sob at the situation, pleading with her not to leave you, pleading your friend to make her stay. The closing of the door was always the final nail in that coffin.

Two hours later Larissa returned to her office to be met with you resting your head in Marilyn’s lap and lazily playing with her fingers. “Little star, I spy someone’s mama” Marilyn murmured to not startle you from your sleepy haze. “Mine mama?” You whispered hopefully, seconds later you’re scrambling off her lap and crashing your body into Larissa’s steady one. “Mama! I miss you! I did picture with Mari!” You squealed happily dragging your mana to your art work. “She was a star as usual Larissa, after her tears she was so good isn’t that right my star?” Marilyn murmured causing you to nod your head excitedly, mama always likes when you’re good for your friends.

That was how you ended up snuggled into Larissa for a lunch time nap after Marilyn had to go back to a revision session for another Botany exam coming in the next few days. Despite the start of the day, you knew that no matter what you had the best girlfriend and best friend who would advocate for your needs if you can no longer do so.

[dilute-flower]

What A Lovely Git

Request: hii, could I get a snape and professor reader fic where the students notice a similar wedding ring on both of them and start asking questions, and try to figure out if they're married? and maybe she gets hurt in class once and snapes all worried about her and everyone’s like "they’re married to each other?!" by @acupnoodle

Warnings: None

A/N: This was one of my more popular fics so I decided to post it as my comeback fic hahaha

Verruca = wart in latin btw

Enjoy <3

“Would you stop staring at her like a lost puppy?” Fred Weasley flicks his twin brothers’ ear to pull him back to earth, coaxing an annoyed groan from him.

Ever since the new alchemy professor started teaching at Hogwarts 3 years ago, George has been absolutely smitten with her. Smitten might be an understatement. Enchanted, bewitched, absolutely lovestruck – Fred can’t help but roll his eyes at him. Poor fella, instead of gifting his heart to someone his age, he decided to hopelessly pin a teacher.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me?” George whines and dramatically shovels his breakfast porridge into his mouth. “Who wouldn’t tell you what?” Ron leans across the table to peak at who captivates his brother’s attention.

“Professor (L/N),” Fred sighs “She got married over the summer and won’t tell George who she married.”

“She said ‘Students shouldn’t be too concerned about their teacher’s life’” George mocks her voice “Doesn’t she know that she broke a gazillion hearts with her decision to marry someone?”

Ron shoots Fred a concerned glance, but he just rolls his eyes in response. “He’s been an overdramatic bloke since the beginning of the term.” He pats his brothers back, a little harsher than necessary.

“C’mon Goergie! Get over it. How about you start dating some girls your age? That Hufflepuff, you know, the blond one from our charms class, I believe she fancies you.”

George doesn’t even consider answering, eyes still focused on the woman at the staff table.

“Who do you reckon she married, Ron?”

“I don’t know. Probably some bloke from her hometown.” Ron is obviously not interested in the love life of his teacher, shrugs his shoulders and resumes eating his breakfast.

“It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” Hermione interferes. “Professor (L/N) spends most of the time at the castle; even last Christmas she stayed in Hogwarts. If she had dated someone at home, she wouldn’t have stayed. She married another professor!”

George huffs at this suggestion, “And who would that other professor be? As far as I can tell, the only other staff member her age is Snape. You don’t think she married that greasy git, right?” He laughs, but Hermione just sends him an apologizing look and nods her head towards the staff table.

“Professor (L/N) is not the only one displaying a new wedding band on her finger.”

Everyone’s head snaps towards the staff table and in fact – Snape is wearing a golden wedding band on his left hand.

 “No fucking way!” Fred exhales and notices that George has become unnaturally pale.

“That doesn’t have to mean anything! This could be a mere coincidence. They’re not even sitting next to each other!”

Denial, the first step to acceptance. But he’s right; the two professors chose to sit as far away from each other as possible, but that could easily be a front to keep students from getting suspicious.

An idea strucks Fred at this moment.

“You know, there’s a way to find out if it’s true.”

“What do you suggest?” George asks skeptically. There’s only one way to get him out of this misery. It’s simple: A prank!

“Veritaserum.” Fred smirks wickedly at George. “We’ll get some from Snapes stores, slip it into (L/N)’s coffee and ask who she married. It will be fun! And you’ll get your answer.” George matches his brothers grin, while the rest of the group looks dumbfounded.

“You’re bloody mad, aren’t you? Stealing from Snapes personal stores... Do you have a death wish?” Ron looks panic stricken at the twins.

“Nonsense. We’re not stealing – we’re borrowing,” George muses “we’ve been doing so since first grade.”

“So, you want to steal– excuse me – ‘borrow’ from one teacher to drug up another?” Hermione’s expression appears as if she can’t believe anyone could possibly be so stupid.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Right, Georgie?” Fred nudges his brother with his elbow playfully, grinning from ear to ear.

“Exactly!”

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

Getting hands on the Serum was the easy part. Letting the professor consume it; A whole different story.

The 5th year Gryffindors have alchemy lessons with the Hufflepuffs on Tuesday mornings. Professor (L/N) always sneaks a cup of coffee from the breakfast table into her first lessons of the day. Perfect, Fred thought at first, but turns out; she never ever lets go of her cup.

“We need to cause a distraction,” Fred murmurs, “Maybe a firecracker?”

George shakes his head and starts rummaging in his pocket, “Got a better Idea.” He retrieves a small object that looks suspiciously like one of their Skiving Snackbox sweets. “Fainting Fancy.”

“Brilliant!” Snatching the candy from his hand, Fred puts on his most charming smile and taps the shoulder of the cute Hufflepuff at the table in front of them, “A treat as sweet as you, only for you,” he offers the candy and winks wickedly at her.

A trick that never fails to work, thanks to his irresistible Weasley-charm. The girl blushes prettily before accepting the treat with a coy ‘thanks’, and eats it.

It doesn’t take long for the ‘Fainting fancy’ to do its magic and cause the Hufflepuff to faint, letting her head fall on the desk with a dull bang. The professor, immediately alarmed, hurries towards the girl and Fred uses this distraction to cross the classroom and slip a few drops of serum into her coffee, without anyone noticing.

He scrams back to his seat and watches as George offers the girl a few sips of his water in which he has dissolved the antidote beforehand. The Hufflepuff immediately awakes with a startled gasp, causing the professor to side-eye the twins with a suspicious glare.

“Mr. and Mr. Weasley, I want the both of you in my office, immediately after the lesson. Is that clear?”

Shit. Seems like she did spend a little time with the dungeon bat after all. At least judging by the new tone, she picked up. But luckily, she didn’t appear to have noticed what Fred was up too.

Unfortunately though, after the incident, the professor seems to have completely forgotten about her coffee whatsoever. She hasn’t touched it ever since.

Fred was, to put it mildly, annoyed. He could have lived with a bit of detention if their plan worked out at least. But the lesson is over, the serum unconsumed and the brothers find themselves waiting inside of professor (L/N)’s office for scolding.

“Why do I have the feeling, that the fainting of Miss Baker today has something to do with you, boys?” She smiled lovingly at them. Ever the nice professor.

Fred and George keep feigning innocence, not giving into her ‘good cop’ act.

“C’mon, boys. Don’t take me for a fool,” She retrieves her wand and nonchalantly waves it in the door’s direction. It opens and in flies the cup of coffee she forgot in her classroom earlier. Fred nudges his brother with his elbow as they observe their teacher using a spell to heat the cold brew up again.

“You know, I love your inventions. They’re creative and simply brilliant! But the whole staff already knows about your little candy, and I can’t keep pretending that I don’t notice.”

Just when she’s about to lift the steaming mug to her lips a knock raps at the door.

Without waiting for a response, the person lets themselves in and to the twin’s horror it’s their potions professor, Severus Snape, himself.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Abort mission!

“I thought I saw a cup of coffee mindlessly drifting through the halls and as expected it belongs to none other than my– ” The easy smile on Snape’s lips dies the instant he notices the twins sitting on the chairs that are placed in front of the desk for visitors.

“Weasleys… In for some trouble again?” He hisses at them, sneering along the way. What a git.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, professor.” Professor (L/N) winks at the brothers and leans back on her chair, mug still in hand. If they’re lucky, she won’t drink any until Snape is gone.

“No, I guess not.” Snape narrows his eyes, annoyed. “I’ll better see myself out then. Later, (Y/N)?” The second their eyes meet; the smile reappears on his face. It would be heartwarming, endearing even, if it wasn’t Snape they’re talking about. Fred grimaced at the sight.

“Yes, see you later, Severus.”

With that Snape leaves, and Fred lets go of the breath he didn’t notice he was holding.

Finally, professor (L/N) drinks a sip of her coffee and laughs delighted, “You owe me, for not letting Snape in on your little pranks.”

How will they know whether the serum’s already working?

“So, professor (L/N),” George starts, “how are you, on this beautiful morning?”

An expression of irritation crosses her features for a millisecond, “Are you trying to charm me to get out of trouble, Mr. Weasley?”

Not working, then. George shakes his head, blushing furiously. “Just asking.”

The professor becomes suddenly very quiet, a deep frown settling on her usually soft features. Something’s wrong. A red, aggressive rash forms all over (L/N)'s skin and she grabs her throat with both hands hysterically, as if she’s struggling to breath.

The office door flies open again; “(Y/N), I forgot to inform you –” Snape reentered just on time to witness the tears forming in her eyes and she pleadingly looks at Snape, silently crying for help.

Snape rushes to kneel in front of her, concern and fear plastered all over his face as he cradles her face to examine it.

“(Y/N), my love, what is it?” She struggles in his grasp, not able to answer but manages to point at the mug. He retrieves his wand, casting a spell to summon the swallowed liquid outside of her stomach. But it’s too late. The serum is already absorbed.

The rash on her skin forms into loads of wards and Snape snaps his head towards the twins.

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“No – Nothing!” George appears paler than ever, “We slipped Veritaserum into her coffee, we – we didn’t expect such a reaction!”

“Veritaserum?” Snape hisses, venom laced in his dangerous tenor. “Show me the vial!”

Fred quickly scrams his bag, retrieves the vial and hands it to Snape, who inspects it.

“That’s Verrucaserum, you pigheaded dunderheads!” This time he screamed, teeth bared and spit flying all over the place, “It’s a perfect cure for the frogsflu put can be crucial when taken in healthy condition. She could die!”

Fred has witnessed Snape in many angry stages, but this surpasses everything. He’s furious, almost frantic. He’s waving his wand over the suffocating woman and lifts her seconds later as if she weights nothing.

“Out of the way!” He spits, “I need to get her to the hospital wing.”

With that Fred and George are left alone in their professor’s office with nothing but their raging guilt.

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

“They’re just children, Sev. They didn’t mean any harm.”

Professor (L/N)’s voice rings through the stony halls of the hospital wing from where she lays on a bed to the entrance where the twins are lurking. They came to apologize for what they did, even brought some flowers and chocolate back from Hogsmade. They feel absolutely terrible for what happened.

Snape’s by her side, as expected, sitting on a chair with his back slouched towards the entrance, his yellowing fingers clutching their teacher’s hand as if his life depends on it. The pair hasn’t noticed the Weasleys yet.

“I know they didn’t! That doesn’t change the fact that – ” Fred has never heard Snape so desperate before, his voice so soft compared to the tone he usually chooses to address his pupils, and cracking on every other word as if he’s close to tears. It tucks at something within Fred’s chest.

“This,” Snape continues, “This could have caused some serious long-term damages, or even worse – ” He struggles to finish the sentence, “We are lucky I was there. If I hadn’t – what would have happened if…” Snape loses it then, letting his forehead fall on their joined hands and releases a shaking sob.

“Shh! It’s alright, love.” She runs one hand through his hair soothingly, “I’m fine, See!” Gently she grabs his chin and pulls Snape’s head towards hers, their lips interlocking in a sweet kiss.

Fred turns to dare a glance at his brother, who watches the interaction silently, a mellow look in his eyes. Snape’s voices echoes once more;

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, (Y/N). I wouldn’t know what to do if I were to lose you.”

George turns to walk away suddenly and pulls on his brother’s sleeve, “C’mon Fred.” He murmurs “We’ll find a different time to apologize. They need their privacy.”

Fred couldn’t agree more.

[munstysmind]

Prompt person: Henry Cavill

Prompt: “I don’t care how good it feels, you’d better not cum until I tell you to.”

YOUR OWN FAULT - HENRY CAVILL

WARNING/S: SMUT, NSFW - MINORS, DNI. P in V, unprotected sex, restraints, ??female dominant??

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

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He didn’t think she’d actually do it, that she’d try to prove him wrong when he told her she doesn't have the willpower to edge him, but she did and now he’s suffering the consequences of his actions.

“Sweetheart please…” he begs with a needy whine, pulling at the tie securing his wrists to the bar on the headboard as slows her hips to a slow roll, ruining his orgasm for the fourth time tonight.

“It’s your own fault Hen” she tells him, leaning down and licking up his neck “you shouldn’t have been a smart ass, if you hadn’t you wouldn’t be tied to the bed right now”

He lets out a huff, mumbling under his breath as he glares at her, his head pressing back into the pillow.

“What was that?” she asks, her brows raised, daring him to repeat what he said. He just shakes his head at her, refusing to make eye contact as she sits back up.

She clenches around him, smirking when a choked whimper comes from the back of his throat. The thrill of giving him a taste of his own medicine, doing to him what he does to her every time they have sex, has already made her orgasm twice and she’s quickly on the way to a third.

“I don’t care how good it feels, you’d better not cum until I tell you to” she tells him as she resumes her movements, slowly rolling her hips, something that drives him crazy “if you do, you’re using your hand for the next month”

“Fuck” he growls, gritting his teeth while he tries to think of anything other that how amazing she feels wrapped around him. He knows if he blows his load before she lets him, she’ll stay true to her word and won’t touch him for a whole month. Four weeks. Thirty one torturous days.

She shifts in his lap, moving her legs behind her and resting the top of her feet on his thighs to get more leverage, which she uses to her full advantage. Planting her hands on his chest she starts to ride him, hard.

Normally he loves it when she uses him for her own pleasure but not this time. He’s so sensitive from the past hour that it’s borderline painful. His saving grace is she’s close, he knows she is. He knows every part of her.

“Oh god” she cries, her nails digging into his chest as the pressure between her legs reaches it’s peak and she collapses into him, her entire body shaking as her climax takes over.

Feeling her walls clamping down on him ignites a fresh panic in his chest, he isn’t going to be able to hold it off much longer.

“Sweetheart.. I can’t, I’m gonna. Please… please” he begs, panic in his voice as he feels his balls tighten.

“Cum for me” she whispers breathlessly, burying her face in his neck as her body twitches with aftershocks as a result of her self inflicted overstimulation.

She doesn’t need to tell him twice. He plants his feet on the mattress below them and vows to never skip or complain about leg day again as he thrusts up into her. One… two… three times and it’s all over.

“FUCK!” he roars, his back arching off the bed as he cums harder than he’s ever cum in his entire life. A deep groan leaves his chest, his entire body shuddering as his muscles relax and he sinks into the mattress.

“You’re gonna be the death of me” he pants after a few minutes, making her grin in his neck. She lifts her head, the grin still on her face, and leans forward, kissing him deeply.

“But what a way to go” she says against his lips, making them both burst into laughter.

[sednonamoris]

love, too, will ruin us

Pairing: John Price x gn!reader

Summary: You and Price take advantage of a rare sunny day in England over leave. The brief foray into civilian life has your imagination running wild.

Warnings: Penetrative sex (vague), strong language, mild angst, fluff, two raging nationalists in a relationship

Word count: 1,497

A/N: Resposting the fourth installment of my ‘hellhound’ series (cross-posted to AO3) bc tumblr ate the end of the last one and I didn’t catch it until just now 🤦‍♀️ Reading the others isn’t technically necessary but they do provide context for Price and Hound’s relationship - cheers!!

—

It’s cruel to let yourself dream of domesticity, but when he fucks you slow in late morning light it’s hard not to imagine every day starting this way. Images of a shared flat join the stars behind your eyelids when pleasure overwhelms your senses. Breakfasts for two accompany the taste of him on your tongue. You hear phantom rows over whose turn it is to do dishes between hot breaths panted into your neck.

War brought you together, so long ago now, but who might you be without it? Is there a future where you won’t watch him bleed out full of bullet holes? Where you both come home for mornings like this and stay? 

John’s teeth graze the skin of your neck and you shiver.

“Distracted, are we?” he teases past the dark blue lust in his eyes. 

“Oh, you know,” you say like you weren’t just lost in maybes and almosts and wouldn’t it be nice somedays. “Fancied a birdwatch this morning, but someone just couldn’t get enough of me. All I’ve seen so far is the English Morning-Woodcock.” 

The roll of his eyes is heavier than the press of his warm body on yours, and you can’t help the grin that steals across your face.

“You think you’re so clever,” he groans. 

“Up here for thinkin’,” you quip back, half breathless. It becomes a moan when he pistons his hips into yours just so. 

“Down there for dancing, is that how it goes?” Smug bastard.

“We’ll make a proper Irishman of you yet.”

He shakes his head to hide a smile, crooked and unguarded in the lines of too-bright sunshine that peek through slatted blinds. “Shut up and let me fuck you.” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Cheeky,” he warns before kissing the smile off your lips. 

You can’t find it in yourself to mind as he guides your body to the peak of its pleasure, hands tracing familiar skin, scars, sins. Yours wander over him as well, fingers running against the hairs on his chest, palms smoothing over battle scars, nails raking down the span of his shoulders. He comes undone with a sigh of your name so sweet that the pleasant ache between your legs dulls in comparison to the one in your chest. 

You’ll never get tired of how much you love him. You’ll never not want to keep him here with you in these quiet moments forever.

But this, as ever, is a momentary reprieve. You settle back into crisp white hotel sheets and stretch your limbs after a morning spent twisted in every position. John presses a warm kiss to your forehead before he rolls over to use the bathroom. He comes back with a wet rag - just the perfect temperature - to clean you up. 

“Did you have anything else planned over leave?” you ask.

He looks up from between your bare thighs with a spark of mischief in his eyes. “The only thing I ever plan on is you, love. Could stay here all day if you let me.”

The smile that overtakes your face is wide and entirely sappy and you see it mirrored in the creases at the corners of his eyes. 

“Well I have plans,” you say. “Get dressed, you’re coming, too.”

—

“Please tell me your plans involve more than going to the chippy up the road,” Price says. 

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes at him as you join the queue. “We’ll have a nice stroll in the park, too. Can’t stay inside the one day it isn’t pissing rain in England.”

He shakes his head. “Coming from a Paddy.”

“Your Paddy, so watch it, cunt.” 

The woman behind the counter interrupts your bickering to ask after your orders. John pays for you both, but not without a cheeky comment from you about reparations that even the chip lady laughs at. 

When you step back out into the street the hustle and bustle of London greets you. The sun shines bright and unabashed by the smattering of clouds in the early afternoon sky - fluffy and white, for once. The shopfronts you pass by are crowded, full up with loudly dressed passers-by and lively conversations that echo across busy streets. Everyone and their mother is out enjoying the day. After so long on the job crowds like this can set your teeth on edge, but the park isn’t that far, now.

Parents and lovers and little old ladies have set up on blankets across the sprawling green lawns. Children race across the green with wild shrieking laughter. Some play tag and others pilot kites and more still chant childhood songs and beg their parents to join in. Wicker baskets with packed lunches wrapped in wax paper and love dot the landscape, one for every picnic blanket making its biannual appearance along with the sunshine. 

John’s hand is warm in yours as you drag him over to the one unoccupied bench. Dappled sunlight filters through the shade of the chestnut trees that line the little paved path and streaks the blue of his eyes with gold when he looks over at you. Side by side, the two of you enjoy the day. You eat your meal in pleasant quiet, occasionally stealing one of John’s chips just to see that fond exasperation he saves for you cross his face.

He takes the trash for the both of you to the bin once you’ve finished. You take the time to appreciate his soldier’s physique in light civilian clothes. His smile is warmer than the sun on his return, and you feel yourself burn up with it.

“Thank you for this, love.”

You lean into his side and watch the old man feeding the pigeons and the single mother wrangling her gaggle of children and the teens awkwardly holding hands. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget why we do it. What we fight for,” you say.

He hums something like an affirmative. 

“I like stealing moments like this,” you continue. “Neither of us is ready to retire - might not ever be, and that’s the truth - but it’s nice to imagine, you know? Getting old and settling down and doing daft shite like taking a weekend off and going to the park.”

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and squeezes, leans over to press a kiss to your temple.

“You could have that with someone else, you know,” he says with the quiet sadness that eats at him always. 

“What’s an old war criminal like me got to offer anyone but an old war criminal like you?” you scoff, only half teasing. He doesn’t laugh. “Thought you’d figured out by now, I don’t want that with someone else - anyone else.”

The sigh he lets out rattles his whole body. He turns, then, taking your hands in his and looking you right in the eye. You suddenly feel exposed in the wake of such a confession, even though you’ve lost count of the times and ways you’ve told John you love him. There’s a seriousness and gravity to his expression that has you holding your breath. 

“I love you, too,” John Price says. There’s an apology in the depths of his eyes - for taking so long, for wasting the time you’ve had together, for a thousand other things you’ve already forgiven him for - but all you can think is finally. Finally he says it. Out loud. In the park. Under the sun in the sky for everyone to see. “Can’t promise you anything but myself, and it’s a poor prize, but you’re just mad enough to want it.” 

You grin so wide it hurts, and he can’t help but mirror with a smile of his own, eyes crinkled and sparkling.

“Barking mad,” you agree, and kiss him before he can complain about the awful pun at a time like this. 

It’s chaste - you’re still in public - but it somehow feels more passionate than the open-mouthed kisses you’d branded on each other’s bodies just a few hours earlier with only skin to separate you. Right there on the park bench you tear your heart out of your chest and hand it to him, dripping and bloody and raw but his all the same. 

You’re still smiling when you pull away. He ducks his head, cheeks flushed. Even after so long together he’s unprepared to take the full force of your affection.

“In this imaginary retirement of yours,” he asks after a moment, “do we have a flat?”

You hum an affirmative. “A nice cosy one. In Ireland, obviously. You won’t catch me dead retired in fucking England.” 

“Oh?” he challenges with a crooked smile. “Had my heart set on Liverpool, right next to the stadium. I’ll get us season tickets, we can go to every game.”

“I’ll fly you out to every bloody game if that’s what it takes, just spare me, please,” you groan. 

He laughs. It’s a sound so easy to imagine forever to. 

For the second time today, you let yourself.

[ladylooch]

How Country Feels - [Mack X David]

A/N: I am so excited to bring this to you today for many reasons. First of all, it’s Mack and David in Iowa. So we know it’s smutty and adorable. BUT! Mostly I am excited to give this as a gift to my bestest bestie @casualhilarity. You graduated!!!!! From your really tough 6 week training program and I am so so so so so so proud of you! There was never a doubt that you would be successful in this adventure. This step is just the beginning for you. I cannot wait to see what is next! In the meantime, please enjoy our thoughts on Iowa coming to life in the longest post I have ever made on Tumblr 🥹💜

Word count: 8.2k

Warnings: mentions of death, cancer, grief, smut (18+ content)

10,000 feet above Des Moines, Iowa, Mackenzie Hischier looks out the window as her plane begins to descend from her connecting flight from LAX. She has been flying across the world for almost 18 hours trying to get here. Queenstown, New Zealand was home for her the past three weeks. Her internal clock is all sorts of fucked up from the massive time swing she is going through, but she was able to sleep in sync with the Central Time Zone on her first flight. She is hopeful that will curb some of her jet lag. 

The landscape below is much different from the crystal blue water and rigid mountain peaks she came from. Instead, it is flat and vast, various different shades of greens and brows. It’s also windy. She scrunches her nose as the plane swings a bit to the left before continuing on at a smoother pace. There is not much out here to block the wind, but thousands of windmills dot the prairie below them to capture the best energy source nature can give this area. Mack has never been to Iowa, or the Midwest outside of Chicago, which doesn’t feel or look anything like what she is seeing. 

Shortly after landing, Mack walks out of the secure area, heading down to baggage claim 2. As she gets closer to the carousal, she sees a tall man with a thick black mustache, blue jeans, and a plain white t-shirt stretched across his broad chest. His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he leans against the wall by baggage claim 2, boot clad feet crossed over at the ankles. A worn, NYR baseball cap is on his head, hiding his green eyes that are devouring her even as they hide in the shadow of the bill. Mack can see the toothpick in his mouth as she gets closer. He pushes off from the wall, starting to walk towards her. Never in her life did she think she would do this, but her pace quickens and she hustles her ass across that tiled floor to be picked up by him.

“Hi!” She exclaims as she throws herself at him. He catches her easily, hauling her up his chest, both big hands clutching her ass.

“Hi honey.” He grins up at her. Mack licks her lips, then puts them on his. He squeezes her tighter into their kiss. “Mmm, missed that. Missed you.” He lets her slide down his body, Vans hitting the tile again. “Thought it was winter in New Zealand. How are you so tan?”

“There was so much sun! We got lucky pretty much the whole trip.” This trip was with two of her colleagues because it is a big feature with the magazine. Mack is grateful they had a photographer so she could focus more on the stories of the locals and less about getting the perfect shot for print.

“Good. Glad it worked out for you, baby.” He says, wrapping an around around her shoulders. “You tired?”

“Um, yeah. Don’t let me fall asleep.” She mumbles into his side.

“I won’t. You’re in Iowa now. We gotta work when we get back to the farm.” Mack’s eyes widen. She looks up at him with concern. David starts to laugh.

“I’m kidding. Work is done for the day.” 

“But tomorrow?”

“It begins all over again. Gotta feed the cows, let the chickens roam, check fence, and a thousand other tasks.”

“Hard working boy.”

“Yeah.” He grins proudly. The beeping of the baggage claim alerts them before the metal begin to turn. David sees Mack’s bag and steps forward, easily hauling it off. “Just this?” Mack nods. “Let’s go baby.” He holds a hand out for her to take. She laces their fingers together, surprised at how rough his hands feel. Her gaze travels up his arm to his bicep, noting it is rock hard and bulging even without flexing.

“How long of a drive is it?” She asks after they are tucked into David’s big, black truck. He whips it fast and easy out of the parking spot, then roars the diesel engine out of the parking ramp. 

“Ah, about an hour.” He tells her, sliding his hand over to cup her thigh. She weaves her fingers through his. He squeezes them tight. “Plenty of time for you to tell me everything about your trip.” Mack smiles, adjusting herself in the passenger seat so she can look at him while she talks. She loves talking to David. As great as everything else is with him, he is a great listener and always asks the best, most insightful questions about her work. She could talk to him for hours. When she is done, she switches the topic of conversation to him.

“Tell me about the farm. What can I expect?”

“Um,” He chuckles, nudging his hat up off his forehead to scratch an itch. “Well, it’s pretty quiet out there. We are about 15 minutes south of the town closest to us. It has been hot this summer, so I hope you got some summer clothes in there.” Mack does. She packed as accordingly as she could. “Hours are long. I’ll be up before you and come back around dinner time.”

“Oh, I thought you have staff?” Mack questions.

“I do, but someone needs to manage them.” David says. “My farm manager is off on vacation right now. Usually takes the whole month of August off and leaves it to me before he is back to managing it on his own when I head East.” 

“Oooo, you’re the boss.” Mack giggles.

“Yeah of the farm and you.” He quips. Mack rolls her eyes. He is not the boss of her, but he can keep pretending he is.

“Am I gonna see you while I’m here?” She jokes. David licks his lips and nods.

“Yeah, I’ll be able to step away. I have some things planned for us too. Figure I could take you back up to the state fair next week. Get you something on a stick.” Mack gives him a weird look. “You ever been to a state fair? County fair? Nothing?” Mack shakes her head no to both. “Holy shit.” He chuckles.

“At least I don’t think we did when we lived in Jersey. I don’t know that was a long time ago.”

“A fair is where you eat fried food, mostly on a stick, and play games to win prizes, drinks some beer or other frozen drinks to stay cool. Farmers and 4H kids bring their animals to the fair to be judged.”

“What is 4H?” Mack wrinkles her nose in confusion. David looks slack jawed at her. 

“Oh baby. It’s gonna be a whole different world here for you.” He laughs like it’s cute to him.  

Mack feels the first itch of apprehension tickle her spine.

She has been all over the world, but she may be completely out of her league here. 

- - -

The moment Mack steps out of David’s truck in the parking lot of the local watering hole, she can hear the consistent beat of the country song thumping in the tiny bar. David says its a bar, but to Mack it honestly looks like a shack she would avoid if she was alone. After getting a tour of the farm earlier, David informed Mack they were going to be meeting his friends for drinks. He has been talking her up all summer and they’re all eager to get a glimpse of this mystery woman who has stolen David’s heart.

Mack purses her lips for a moment, then looks down at her outfit. She is dressed in a flowing black, long sleeved top from Dior and Black frayed shorts from a boutique in Paris, paired with a Gucci belt. On her feet are black and white Nike Air Force ones. She has on various expensive, designer jewelry and a Prada cross-body bag her mom and dad got her for her last birthday. David had told her she looked good for where he was taking her. She feels very, very overdressed, like even her silk pajamas would be too fancy for this place.

“David.” Mack mumbles when she meets him at the back of the truck. He grabs her hand in his.

“What?” He asks. He is in dark jeans with a blue and white, light weight flannel. His sleeves are rolled up his forearms, exposing his tattoos and the tan skin from a summer of hard work. He took a shower and styled his hair perfectly with a crisp part and a perfect swoop.

“I am so overdressed.”

“What do you mean?” He asks. “You look great?” Mack doesn’t know how to tell him that she is pretty sure her outfit costs more than this bar does. “Don’t worry about it. You’re beautiful and sexy and you’re walking in on my arm. No one is going to mess with you.” Mack snorts and then starts to laugh.

“I wasn’t thinking that, but I’m trying to make a good impression.”

“Babe, they are going to love you. Trust me.”

Within an hour, Mack senses that isn’t going to be the case. 

She can feel the judgement. Detect the way it crawls over her body from his friends. The looks of “not one of us” and the whispers between the girls. She has been talked about enough behind her back throughout life to know when it’s happening right in front of her face. It started when she tried to order a Paloma. The bartender had looked at her like she grew a second head. She glances at David nervously.

“Curley, it’s tequila, grapefruit juice and lime. You got all that shit behind the bar.” David gestures to the wall of liquor. 

“You wanna come make it David?” Curley asks.

“Fuck. Sure.” David shrugs, going behind the bar and showing Curley how to put the drink together. “You think you got that for next time?” Curley did not look like he had it for next time, so Mack switches to tequila and soda instead. 

The conversation around her has centered on all things farm and rural life. What so and so is up to now. Who had a baby. Who just got divorced. Who was cheating on who. It all seemed very juvenile and uninteresting to Mack. David stayed out of it for the most part, listening along with Mack until his friends, Cody and Trevor, started talking Iowa Hawkeye football. Then she lost him to that.

Mack fingers the cocktail napkin that is soaked with condensation below her glass. It’s times like these where Mack feels so out of place in a country she is a citizen off. She knows this isn’t a full, direct correlation of America, but how can she be more out of place here than when she was in Tokyo last year? Or she can get down and dirty in the rice fields of Thailand and feel more connection with locals who don’t speak the same language than she can in the center of the country she was born in.

David’s lips on her temple break her internal discourse. Mack smiles at him. He rubs her shoulder as if to ask “you good?” She nods at him, smiling reassuringly. 

Dun, nu, nu sounds through the bar speakers, then the whole group slaps their hands on the table. “Woo!” They yell. Then Dun, Nu, Nu. Slap, “Woo!” The whole table erupts excitedly, as a man begins to drawl over the sound system. The table turns to look at David, screaming out the next lyrics, “You were raised on an asphalt farm!” Mack blinks, feeling lost. David tips his head back, laughing loudly.

“Davey! It’s your song!” A girl who Mack can’t remember her name, screams then chugs more of her Miller Lite. 

“Get up and swing your asphalt girl around.” Mack’s eyes widen. David chuckles, tapping her thigh assuringly. 

“No, we are good.” David knows Mack would rather be a metal sign on the wall of the bar than get up when no one else is dancing. Being on display is not her thing. She is grateful for that until she sees the sneering glares of the two women at the end of the table.

“Oh, she’s too good for dancing too.” Mack faintly hears.

Mack looks at David. She can tell he didn’t hear what she heard. Not surprising with how loud his other male friends are signing along to the country song. Mack looks down at the girls, noticing how they avoid direct eye contact with her. The blonde one puts her hand up to her mouth, whispering in the red head’s ear. Then they both giggle. 

“No, let’s dance.” Mack suddenly says to David. She isn’t going to let two, small town, hick bitches intimidate her. 

“What?” He responds, surprised. 

“Yeah, show me what you got cowboy.” She jokes as she stands.

The entire table sucks in a huge, deep breath.

“Oooooooo She is in trouble.” One of the boys mumbles. David gives her a sympathetic smile.

“We aren’t cowboys, honey. We are farmers.”

“What is the difference?” Mack scoffs, laughing, thinking he is pulling her leg. David winces slightly at the large yelp of the table behind him, then grabs Mack, pushing her towards the center of the bar.

“I’ll show you later.” He chuckles, kissing her mouth. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Ah, no. They’re just sensitive. Don’t quite understand how other people are outside of these state lines.” Mack gets quiet, retreating into herself again. David practically drags her around in a circle because she is shutting down internally. “Hey…” He trails off. “This is all new to you. It’s okay.” 

“They don’t like me.” She looks at the center of his chest as she says it, not wanting to see the confirmation on his face.

“Nah, they just don’t know you, sweetheart. A lot of layers to your onion.” David can twist into any which way that he wants, but they both know Mack is right. They don’t like her… right now at least.

When Mack and David head back to the table after their dance, the mood at the table has seemed to shift. Now, they all ignore her. 

“How is the herd looking, Trent?” David asks the guy across from Mack. David’s hand is around her shoulder, rolling his fingers in a circle over the thin material of her shirt.

“Should be a good year.” Trent says. “We really need it. Been hurting the last few.”

“Yeah, we all have.” David nods. “Weather has been shit. Can’t out work that.”

“We can sure fucking try tho.” Trent grins, then clinks beer bottles with him. David brings his over to clink with Mack’s glass. She does so. Trent sucks at his teeth, making a slight slurping noise after swallowing more beer. 

“Mack, where did you grow up?”

“In New Jersey before we moved back to where my dad is from in Switzerland.” He nods.

“You have a job growing up or anything?” David cocks his head to the side at Trent. “I’m just trynna find something to relate to her with.” He justifies.

“Um, no. My parents wanted us to focus on school.” Trent sighs like he is disappointed. 

"Must be nice to have a daddy who was able to give you anything you wanted. Didn’t have to work your way through high school to make ends meet.” 

“Trent, knock it off.” David snaps. “Mack knows what hard work is.”

“Does she? Cause the rest of us aren’t thinking she does.”

“Hey, don’t speak for all of us.” Cody snaps. “Drink your beer and shut up.”

“I’m just thinking that it must be nice to have an NHL daddy who can call in a favor to get you a job where you barely have to work as an adult too.” David stands up, chair knocking back to the floor. He reaches across the table to grab Trent, hauling him up to a standing position. 

“Apologize, right now, and I won’t smear you into the wood floor your daddy installed.” 

“I-I-I’m sorry. I think I’m drunk.”

“No shit.” David sneers, shoving Trent back into his chair. The rest of the table goes ghostly silent. Other bar patrons look over their shoulders at the group. Mack is flaming red over the embarrassment of the words thrown her direction and David’s intense reaction. She is equally mortified and turned on.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Mack whispers as David kisses her cheek in reassurance. David gives her a sympathetic look, drowning apologetic eyes watching her as she heads to the back of the bar. 

Mack goes into the first stall, leaning her back into the tiled wall and covering her face. She sucks in deep breaths, trying not to cry. This night could not get any worse. She wants to leave so bad, but she has never been one to back down from a fight. She isn’t going to start now. She doesn’t want them having the satisfaction of seeing her rattled and vulnerable. No, she’ll throw her walls up and fake charm the pants off them. But first, she is going to grab some fresh air.

She heads through the double wood doors, walking down the parking lot, away from the posse of smokers out front. Her arms are crossed over her chest tightly trying to fight off the chill. She doesn’t understand how it can be so hot in the afternoon, but cool down in the evening. Another thing about Iowa she just “can’t understand”. Tears sting her eyes a bit. She feels dumb. Why is this bothering her so much? That guy is a douche. She knows who she is. She shakes off his words, running her fingers through her hair. Mack knows its because she wants to belong here with David. And from her perspective, so far this trip has been less than successful.

A big, heavy jacket comes around her shoulders. She looks to her right, seeing David. His eyes are boring into her, studying her face.

"Looking at the stars?" He asks her.

"Mhm." She looks up at the millions of little dots. Now this reminds her of being in the Swiss Mountains. The same sort of inky black sky dotted with delicate twinkles. He runs his fingers along her shoulder, resting on the back of her neck. He guides her into his side.

"Talk to me, Hisch." 

"I guess I don't have much in common with this version of you.” Her European accent drips into her voice. She is surprised to hear that. It only comes out when she is feeling emotional, creating a difficulty with keeping a Western dialect. David grabs the opening of his jacket on her, tugging so she turns completely towards him. He steps forward, crowding her space. He brings a big paw to her chin, tilting her face up to his.

“What version?” He asks, laughing it off. “Baby, I am who I am. No matter where I am.” He brushes her hair back behind her ear. “And you’re everything I’ve dreamed of.” Mack can see how much he means it. It’s in his touch on her cheek, in his gaze stroking along hers, in the sureness of his voice. She nods. He captures her lips. The kiss is soft, sweet sucks and gentle nudging of his tongue against her bottom lip. His other hand winds around her waist, pressing into her lower back to keep her tight to him.

David says the right things, but that kiss says more to Mack than his words ever could.

His lips on hers erase it all- the insecurity, the doubt, the not belonging, the not good enough.

He grounds her because he knows what she needs immediately, sometimes before she even knows. But tonight, it is his physical reassurance soothing her more than anything. He towers over her, shielding her from everything with his muscular body, and consumes her in a way that feels safe not smothering. 

"Just say the word and I'll go back in there to straighten Trent out." Truthfully, having him storm back in there would be so fucking hot. She would get to watch him teach Trent a lesson and get all hot and bothered between her thighs. 

“What is the other option?” She murmurs.

“I take you home. We can spend the rest of the night by ourselves.”

Mack contemplates what home entails. She wants him to hold her hand in his dark truck the whole way home. She craves for him to undress her slowly in that small house. His boots hitting the floor at the foot of the bed while he urges her to lay back so he can take his time undressing her. She needs his rough, calloused hands on her soft hips as he pulls her panties down her legs. Then she wants him soft and slow, gently thrusting deep into her in a missionary position as he irritates her lips with his mustache.

And that’s exactly what Mack gets. 

“You look so good for me, honey. So wet and soft and perfect. Take me so well.” He praises her from where he holds his weight above her. His hot breath dances over her face, coated in light beer and her from his previous perch between her thighs. Mack is blissed out, drunk on him and the stroking of him against the walls of her pussy. 

“David.” She sighs, collecting him to her chest. He presses his to hers and then rolls his tongue into her mouth. He gathers her moans, sucking them up greedily so they are only his tonight. He fucks her deeper, harder, perfect bucks into her wet heat. “Fuck you’re so good. So fucking good.” She cries.

“Yeah? Best?”

“Yeah!” She yells.

“Say my name, sweetheart. Say who makes you feel this good.”

“You! David!” She howls.

“Good girl. My girl.” He groans. Mack’s inner walls clench him, pulling him deeper with each flutter of her getting closer and closer to the edge. Her heels dig into his butt, forcing him to stay right fucking there. She turns her face into his neck, sinking her teeth into him as she comes. 

Afterwards, David plays with her fingers as she lays on his sweaty chest. He kisses her forehead, inhaling the scent of her deeply. He keeps his face there afterwards, as Mack starts to go limp in his arms. Her eyelashes brush gently against his warm skin. He shifts her hips a bit, turning to the side so she can lay more comfortable in the crook of his arm.

“Goodnight, honey.” He whispers on her forehead. Then kisses her a final time before leaving her to her slumber. 

- - -

Two weeks into her trip, Mack is still having some trouble adjusting to Iowa. Every thing is completely different here. The grocery store, the little town he took her into, the restaurant options and drinks, even the air is different! It’s laced with manure and dust, making her nose plugged up so she constantly has to drainage. Her eyes have been almost swollen shut every morning of that first week.

“Do you have allergies?” David had asked her. Mack didn’t think so, but she’s also never been to a place quite like this. After a few days of Zyrtec, Mack can finally breathe through both nostrils.

In celebration, and because she is admittedly very bored, she gets into the shower. It’s the only thing in the farm house that is modern. David likes to take long showers after working in the field all day to get clean and relax. He’ll bring a can of Coors Light in with him and have some alone time. Mack thinks is is adorable, getting to see his self-care routine in Iowa. He doesn’t do this after games in NYC, but she thinks that might be because his adrenaline is usually still roaring after hockey. His favorite post-game routing has seemingly been sex. 

After getting clean and putting on some light make up, along with a sundress, Mack got to work putting together a meal for them. She opted for easily transported items like chips, sandwiches, and cut up fruit. Then she made some lemonade from the cup of lemonade mix she found in the pantry. David loves Lemonade down here. She is starting to enjoy it too. This time she puts fresh strawberries in for a little extra sweetness. 

Mack glances out the front window to where two farm hands are working. She puts her feet in the cowboy boots David got her at the boot store in town when she first got here. They are more broken in now and are no longer hurting her feet, so she feels comfortable wearing them for today’s excursion. Then she grabs the basket and steps outside. 

Mack covers her eyes with her hand, looking out at the vastness of the farm. David took her on a tour her second day here, but she doesn’t remember anything. She worries about getting lost out there. She double checks that she has her phone. At least she seems to have good service here. 

“Um, hi.” Mack says nervously as she walks up to the two farm hands by the barn.

“Hi Mackenzie.” They greet her happily. Something about being the boss’ girlfriend she is sure.

“Mack is fine. Um, do you know where I can find David?” She holds up the basket with their lunch. “I want to bring him lunch.”

“Oh, he is in the far back 40 on the edge of the farm property.” One of them says. 

“Okay. And I can get there with that?” She points to the small utility vehicle they whip around on the front of the farm. 

“Yeah….” They trial off, giving each other a look. “Do you know how to get there?”

“I know everything branches off from this road, she points to the left. But after that I am a little lost.”

“I can take you.” The older one, who seems to be more in charge says. “We can take the truck.” Mack nods. “I can put that in the bed for ya.” He hoists it over into the truck bed, then they both get into the cab. 

“What is your name?” She asks once they start down the dirt road. Rocks kick up against the mud flaps and the underbelly of the truck, making her have to yell a bit over to him.

“Felix.”

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles politely. ���Thank you for taking me.”

“Of course. Mr. David says you are our special guest. Can’t let you get lost out here.” Mack blushes, biting her bottom lip. 

“Oh I don’t know about that. How long have you worked on the farm?”

“About 25 years. I worked for Mr. Chuck before Mr. David.” Mack knows Chuck is David’s dad. She doesn’t ask, but wonders if he was there when Chuck passed away on the farm.

“That is nice. You must like it here?”

“Yes, they are fair to their workers and their families. Last year, my wife had cancer. The treatment was expensive. We had to travel up to Mayo Clinic in Minnesota. But Mr. David paid for the whole thing and kept my job. My wife has now been in remission for five months.” Felix does the sign of a cross then kisses his lips in praise. 

“Wow.” Mack murmurs. David never told her that.

“He is special. Nothing like his siblings.” Felix’s face seems to cloud over. “We are happy he bought them out of the farm.” Another thing Mack wasn’t aware of. “He has made changes, some hard to learn at first, but all have been good. For us and him. More money and security. People on other farms around here want to work for him the most.” Pride swells in Mack’s chest at hearing that.

Felix turns to the right, heading away from the road and out for a few minutes. They come over a hill, down into a valley where Mack see’s David’s black truck. She frowns, realizing he is out here working alone.

“Is he always out here alone?” She wonders.

“No, just today.” He says. “It’s a hard day for him.” Mack furrows her brows, but nods along. He didn’t say anything before they left. He seemed normal too.The truck comes to a slowed stop. David is working along the fence line. He wipes his forehead with his forearm, looking up at the truck. He sees Felix, then grins huge when he sees Mack.

“Felix! Look at you bringing me pretty little things after busting me for that in high school.” Felix roars with laughter, his big chest shaking as he leans out the rolled down window. 

“This one seems a little less crazy.”

“Eh, you don’t know her like I do.” David winks. He tosses his tools into the cab of his truck. “Stay here, honey.” He says to her. Mack stays put, letting David come to her door. He opens it up, then gives her his hand to help pull her down safely from the high farm truck. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I brought lunch to you.” 

“Oh?” He wiggles his eyebrows, then drags his gaze along her body in her blue, linen sundress. 

“Actual food.” She fills him in. He quips a smirk at her, then leans down to kiss her. 

“Basket in the back, sir.” Felix says.

“How many times do I have to say not to call me that?” David rolls his eyes.

“How many times I gotta tell you it’s about respect?” Felix quips back. Mack smiles. She likes Felix a lot. She can see herself getting to know him more over the next few weeks. 

“Fine. Hey, when you get back up can you tell Becks to get to the N.E. pasture and start working some of the cows into N.D. pasture instead? I don’t think I’m going to get to that today.”

“You bet. I’ll have Reed go with him too. That kid needs to get the hell off my project.”

“He’s a little wild.” David acknowledges. “That’s why he is with you.” David reminds Felix who sighs heavily. “Look what you did with me.” He grins. 

Felix waves and drives off back to the barn after David hauls the picnic basket out of the back. 

“I brought a blanket too.” Mack pulls it out of her bag that she had slung across her shoulder. David drops the tailgate of his truck, then lays the blanket along the back.

“That’s good otherwise your thighs would be burning in that short dress.”

“Is it short?”

“Honey, you know it is.” He slaps her ass to prove his point, getting some of her bare cheek against his palm. Mack leans forward, feeling the fabric slide further up her thighs as she digs in the picnic basket. David runs his fingers up from her knee to cup her ass. He reaches for her arm, pulling her away from the food. “Want something else first.” He sighs against her mouth.

“What if someone comes to find you?” She weakly protests. She had this in mind for lunch too.

“They’ll call me.” He murmurs against her mouth. “Trust me, I don’t want any of my guys seeing you, honey. I wouldn’t take the chance if I didn’t think it was safe.” Mack nods, believing him completely.

He wraps an arm around her waist, pinning her tight to him. His hard cock protrudes from beneath his zipper, pulsing for Mack to touch. Her fingers, clutch the back of his neck, feeling his skin sweaty and hot beneath her fingers. He smells sexy like sweat and deodorant that works just as hard as her man. It’s hot, sexy as fuck to the point that Mack wraps her leg around his waist to grind against him.

David moves his mouth from hers and presses kisses along her throat. He sucks her skin hard into his mouth at the nook of her neck and shoulder, then continues down. Mack arches back, letting her head fall back so he can access her chest completely. His lips continue their path over the swell of her left breast, then he nudges the fabric to the side. Her nipple pebbles in the sunlight, pink and beautiful, just for him. He opens his lips, pulling it in. His tongue strokes over her sensitive peak, then creates a wet trail to the other one, grabbing it between his lips. He lets that one go with a final slurp, then goes back to kiss her mouth. 

“Mmm.” Mack hums. Her fingers go to his belt, working it apart. She pulls his hard length out of his jeans and underwear, stroking along his shaft, feeling the velvet skin tight in her hand. She works her fingers up to his head, stroking until his slit releases pre-cum. 

“Fuck.” He groans, breaking away from their kiss. David turns Mack, lifting her dress up over her ass and pulling her bare skin back to his. He works his cock between her ass, savoring how she grinds her cheeks against him while he holds her tight by her stomach. He kisses her shoulder, tasting her warm, vanilla skin. 

“Bend over.” He growls before she reaches between their bodies and holds his balls, stealing his breath. She rolls them over in her hand as she lays forward obediently. Her right cheek presses into the blanket she brought. David moves her dress up, pulling her thong underwear down for her ankles to hold. David strokes his cock as he puts two fingers at Mack’s entrance, testing her. She is soaked, almost dripping down those creamy thighs for him. He curses again, then plunges into her welcoming heat.

Mack’s arms stretch above her head, gripping the blanket in her palms. Her hard nipples stroke against the ridges of the truck bed with each direct thrust of him into her. David works his hands off her hips to the front of her thighs, keeping his hands there to protect her from the lip of the tailgate. His lips kiss her spine, then he get into position to fuck her hard and fast just like she begs for. The truck suspension squeaks from his powerful pumps.

“So good.” Mack calls back. She opens her eyes, taking in the surrounding Iowa wilderness, grinning at how sexy it is to be fucked by this man right here. Maybe she could be a country girl after all. She giggles.

“What?” He asks her.

“Maybe I am a country girl.” 

“By the time I’m done with you, you will be.” He laughs, slapping her ass with his abdomen with each drill of his cock into her. 

“Oh.” She groans, felling like a completely, coming undone mess at what he is doing with her. His unhooked belt slaps the outside of her thigh as it swings. She moves one hand from above her head, bringing it to her clit to roll it in rapid circles. “David…” She moans loudly, letting her voice go, carrying out across the field.

“Mmm, yeah. Let the world hear you baby. Let everyone know who’s pussy this belongs to.” He brings a hand under her stomach, arching her lower back and hips up so he can drive at a different angle. Mack’s eyes roll into the back of her head, almost securing to her brain at how incredible his cock feels pressing into her velvet circle. 

“Right there. Davey, please don’t stop. Never stop.” Mack wails. 

“Not until you coat this cock, sweetheart.” He assures her. “This what you wanted, huh? Made your man a little meal so he would stuff you full of his thick cock?”

“Yeah!” Mack admits shamelessly. “Ohmyg-“ Mack chokes on the last word as the intensity of her orgasm rips the breath from her lungs. 

“Oh fuck. Baby yes.” He moans, losing control at the hard flutters of her around him. “So fucking good, baby. Perfect for me.” His hoarse voice coos at her as he paints ropes of cum on her walls.

Their heavy breathing makes them hot, sweat beginning to bead along their spines as they lay limply against each other on the truck bed. Then, David straightens up, gliding himself out of Mack gently. She whimpers at the emptiness, wishing he would stay there for a little longer. He delicately drops her dress back over her butt after bringing her panties up into place. She turns, leaning on the tailgate as her legs shake. David tucks himself back into his pants, buckling his belt before focusing back on her. He grips her chin with his thumb and pointer finger, giving her a soft, wet kiss. 

“You are amazing.” He sighs. Mack grins into their kiss.

“You too. Never felt like this.” She whispers, holding him by the back of his neck against her forehead. Never thought she would admit things like this to someone either. But as per usually, David is scratching out all of her rules and rewriting new ones, like spending weeks in America’s heartland and turning down jobs from her editor.

“I’m starving. What did you bring us?” David asks, picking her up and setting her on the tailgate behind her so she can reach the picnic basket. She brought them turkey sandwiches with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and homemade pesto mayo she put together yesterday afternoon. All the flavors have marinated deliciously together, creating a flavor bomb in her mouth. 

“Holy shit. This is amazing. Thank you!” His genuine appreciation makes Mack’s chest warm. She smiles coyly, with her mouth full of food. He leans down to kiss her. Mack gently chews the rest of her bite, looking over at David who is devouring his sandwich is two more huge bites. She chuckles, then licks her lips before speaking.

“So Felix said today is a hard day for you?” Everything about David’s demeanor changes like a snap. His face darkens. He begins to fidget next to her, slightly pulling away as his body gets rigid. He sniffs, then takes a big glug of lemonade from the mason jar. 

“Yeah.” Mack hesitates, remaining quiet while watching him stuff some chips in his mouth. Then she puts her sandwich down on the plate next to her, turning to sit facing him. She puts her hand on his thigh, continuing to stay quiet until David sighs heavily. “My mom died ten years ago today.” Mack stills, then rolls her bottom lip into her mouth. 

“I’m so sorry.” David nods, clearing his throat.

“This date every year I come out here and fix fence and talk to her. Tell her about what I’ve been up to the last year. Cry a little bit. Then go clean off her and dad’s grave and put some fresh flowers down from her rose garden by the house.”

“That sounds like a nice way to honor her.” Mack murmurs, moving her hand from his thigh to his hand, lacing their fingers together. He brings the back of her hand up to his mouth, kissing along her knuckles.

“It is. Unfortunately, I’ve had ten years to get the tradition perfect.” He sighs. “Every year on this date though, it feels like it just happened.” Mack can imagine so. “Sucks.” He sniffs again. Mack rubs her thumb along the tendons of his hand.

“Will you tell me about her?”

“She was hilarious. Spunky as shit. Had to be with how crazy my siblings and I were in our younger days. We used to pretend to be super heroes and jump off the barn into the hay. It was all fun and games unless you were a bit off…. Or got pushed off like me.” Mack’s eyes widen. “But my mom was always watching out the window and would rip my brothers a new asshole anytime they were picking on me. She was strong and full of joy. She loved worked in her garden. A few of the plants have died off over the years cause of deep freezes, but most of those rose bushes are hers. I hire Felix’s wife to tend to them in the summer so they’re always taken care of. Mom would have wanted that, since she isn’t here to do it…” 

Mack squeezes his hand then brings her other hand up to run over his back. She rests her mouth on his bicep, continuing to listen while holding him. 

“I think that’s why it was so hard when she got sick.” His voices starts to get tight. Tears pinch Mack’s eyes. “That… but also she has missed so much. She didn’t get to see me graduate from high school or college. Didn’t see me get drafted or my first game in the NHL. At least my dad was there for those, but it wasn’t the same. He didn’t have the words like she would have when I struggled to stay up in the NHL those first few years or the way he rode my ass when I was home every summer to be a better farmer.” David shakes his head. 

“It’s like every year something happens that I’m sad she isn’t here for. This year, I’m sad she doesn’t get to know you.” Mack’s bottom lip shakes as two tears go down her cheeks. He turns his lips into her hair, then continues to talk against her head. “She would have loved you- strong, independent, sassy, and so pretty you could bring even the most stubborn man to his knees.” Mack smiles, cupping his cheek to hold him against her. “Those dimples… baby.” He sighs, “they get me every time.” 

“I hope she still likes me now… even from wherever she is watching over you.”

“I think so.” He smiles. 

“Could I go with you to their resting place?”

“Yes, of course you can. I just gotta check the rest of this fence and then we can go.”

“Thank you for telling me. I didn’t know…”

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t like talking about it. Probably why Felix told you.” Mack nods, understanding that Felix was looking out for David too when he told Mack about today on the drive down. 

Mack and David finished their lunches and she helps him check fence. She walked the line with him and pointed out normal fence she thought looked bad and he taught her about what to look for instead. When they were done, they loaded up into David’s truck, then drove back towards the house.

The house is just comes into view when David peels off to the right and drives to an open unassuming field. There is no fencing, just in ground stones that mark the Carlson members that are buried on the farm. David grabs a bucket full of cleaning supplies. He gives Mack the flowers he picked earlier that had been resting in a bucket of water, then takes her hand to walk over to his parents grave. 

Mack begins to cry immediately, feeling so overwhelmed with sadness for David. And his parents. For everything they have missed. For the people she will never know. For all the moments that David will never get to have with them and how fucking cruel it is that he has to go through that for the rest of his life. All those happy days will have a shade of grey because of who is missing. It’s not fair. She wants to change that for him, ease some of that, but instead, all she can really do is cry sympathetically. 

When they get to his father, Charles E. Carlson’s headstone, David drops her hand and puts his work gloves on. He uses his tools to cut away the over grown grass and weeds. Then he grabs the soapy water and rags to clean the dirty away from the head stone. Mack kneels off to the side, by his mother’s stone, watching quietly, sensing her help is not wanted. This seems methodical and therapeutic to David.

He rests his butt on his heels while he looks down. He presses his palm on his dad’s name, then works his way to his mom’s and does the same thing. This time, wet tear drops fall from his eyes onto the dusty stone as he cleans the grime off. Mack swallows hard, new tears of her own falling down. David puts his left hand on his mother’s name, Beatrice. Mack reaches out, putting hers on top of his. David opens his right arm for her to slide into his side. Then he holds her close.

Mack doesn’t know, but while he holds her tight, David is telling his mom, where ever she is resting, that the girl in his arms is the one.

- - -

Mack can’t believe it is her second to last night here.

As different as it all was when she first got here a month ago, her and David have settled into a nice routine. Every morning starts early, with a romp in the sheets. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, always incredible though. After that, Mack wanders down in his shirt to make him coffee and some eggs to wolf down fast after his shower. She sits with him at the table as he tells her all the different chores he has for the day. She asks questions. He patiently answers. 

Then, after a long smooch with wandering calloused hands, he heads out to the field. Mack will meet him for lunch, or if it’s too hot, he comes into the kitchen to take a break in the air conditioning. They spend 10 minutes of his hour long lunch eating and the other 50 devouring each other. On the tail gate, on the kitchen table, on the kitchen floor, on the couch- wherever they can make it to before their clothes start falling to the floor.

David will return back to his chores, then come home around dinner time. Him and Mack trade off making dinner. He likes to grill for her as she tries different self- prepared marinades with fresh produce from the farm’s garden. Then they end the night watching the sunset on the front porch, which is where they are right now.

The porch swing sways gently from David’s light rocking. A calm, cooling breeze blows through the wrap around porch that hugs the white farmhouse his family built generations ago. Mack thinks about her flight in two days that is supposed to connect her with Newark before she will turn around in 24 hours to head towards Aruba. Dread pinches her stomach uncomfortably. She has started to fall in love with this place and all of it’s differences that she hated 4 weeks ago. David is staying here for two more weeks. He would be returning to New York a few days after she gets home from Aruba.

Mack looks down at his forearm across her stomach. Her fingers tips drag along his tanned skin, watching the goosebumps form on him from her touch. An emotional sigh falls from her lips. His lips touch her hair in recognition, fingers pressing deeper into her side.

“You okay?” 

“I don’t want to leave.” She confesses. He moves so her back falls across his lap. His other arm catches her head in the cook of his elbow. “Wanna stay here with you.” She whispers, reaching up for his face. 

“Baby, if you wanna stay you can, but if you need to go, that’s okay too. There is a whole life of yours outside of me.”

“I know. But it can wait until I’m ready to rejoin it.” David smiles down at her. His fingers run up from her stomach, along her left breast, to cup her cheek. Mack presses up to meet his lips. His hand tangles in her wild, country hair, gripping her tight to his mouth so he can taste her thoroughly. 

“You’re sure? I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay here.”

“I don’t.” She assures him, gripping his wrist where that hand still holds her face. His thumb rubs a track across her cheek bone, looking into her brown eyes. 

“Okay. Then stay. I want that.” He admits. “Was feeling really sad in the field this morning, thinking about driving you up to the airport.” Mack smiles, nodding in agreement. He pulls her up to kiss him again, then lets her head settle in his lap as she wiggles down. Her hair splays across his thigh as he works his finger prints gently into her scalp. Her eyes flutter, wanting to close and give into how good this feels. 

Mack loves the salty breeze off the ocean, the sand between her toes, and the way the pace of island life is unapologetically slow.

But not even that can compete with how good it feels here in David’s arms on his front porch swing.

More Mack & David can be found here.

[flowercrowngods]

Please a little peak of winter soldier or your ideas on it!! I need to expand on my obsession with your writing since I still need to mentally prepare for the time travel one 🤍🤍

hdhdhd please lower your expectations love 😂🤍 but here, as you wish, some kas!eddie winter soldier-esque thing 🫶 (cw blood and violence obviously)

Steve barely feels the impact when his body hits the floor, muddy and rotten and decaying as it is. He barely feels anything anymore, has gone numb even though he’s sure he’s still crying. There is not enough strength in his body to keep a hold of his bat, and watching it fall from his hand doesn’t feel real.

It’s a movie. This is a movie. A bad dream, a nightmare. One he can’t wake up from. One he refuses to wake up from. Not without Eddie.

An earth-shattering scream cuts through the dark, leaving Steve stunned and groaning as the creature’s cry sets alight his body, making him feel every cut, every bruise, every bleeding wound that start to make him feel lightheaded.

He tries to reach for the nail bat, his movements slow and sluggish, his head pounding, his body in agony, and his heart shattered and shattering still.

A foot lands on his wrist, making him cry out with a force he didn’t know he still had left in his body. A sign of life. A baby’s first cry; a terrified boy’s last scream.

The creature — Kas, as the kids call him, but they’re wrong, they’re wrong! It’s Eddie, it’s Ed, it’s—

Steve, he hears Robin’s voice echoing in his mind as he watches Eddie bend down to lift the bat, his face contorted with rage and determination. That’s not Eddie. That’s not the boy you—

I don’t care. If there’s a chance he’s still… It’s been months, Bobbie. He’s— It’s Eddie! I can’t… I can’t just… Let me try, okay?

“Eddie,” he rasps, bile rising in his throat as he does. Or maybe it’s blood. He coughs, attempting to roll onto his side but Kas only crunches his wrist underneath his foot, nearly overwhelming Steve with the pain that makes his vision go black for a second, two, three.

He blinks away the blood, sweat and tears, and looks up to meet eyes that used to be the prettiest, deepest brown he’s ever seen. Big, pretty doe eyes. But what he sees are the eyes of a predator.

What he sees is a face contorted with rage, with fear, with confusion. With pain.

Eddie’s hand around the nail bat shifts as Steve speaks, the nail studded shield falling from his other hand. Steve thinks about reaching for it, but what good would it bring?

“It’s okay, Eddie,” he rasps, wheezes, swallowing around the taste of iron. “The kids are safe. And you’ll be, too. They’re k— killing him. It’s okay. We’ll get you home.”

Kas screams again, his wail calling through the night, but there’s no one left to answer. No one but Steve, who whimpers.

He raises the bat. Ready to strike. And Steve knows. Knows that this is it. Distantly, he hopes that Eddie isn’t aware enough to witness this. Hopes that Kas’s memories won’t turn into Eddie’s when this is all over.

“It’s okay,” he croaks. “I—“

And then, with another pained, agonised scream, Eddie strikes.

🌷 credits go to @steveshairychest for giving me the brain worms for this scene way back when with this

[10thmusemoon]

hello!! i recently read your fic where shen yuan is qijiu's baby and I loved it! In the notes, I saw that there might be more of the thread where yue qingyuan didn't leave cang qiong after he found out he was pregnant, is there anywhere I can read it? :3

Aw thanks!! And yes! I’m still in the process of making that its own proper fic but there was a little bit of that at the beginning of this thread that ultimately turns into the fic that’s posted!

(There’s also The Sect Leader is an Omega!? Which is 25k for anyone just tuning in to my omega!YQY agenda.)

Cw: omegaverse and mpreg

I’m gonna take this as an opportunity to ramble on this because I’ve been thinking about more QiJiu omegaverse.

What I love about omega!yqy and why I always revisit that dynamic, is that he’s the strongest cultivator in universe, he’s a big beefy dude, and he is everything that goes against the stereotypical omega expectations. As the sect leader he takes care of the sect and no one expects that he needs anyone to be protective over him. Not even YQY sees that as an option, he has only ever looked after others, no one has ever looked after him.

Except well, Shen Qingqiu.

Who, before they even presented, was possessive over Qi-ge and looked out for them both. And then as the lord of the second peak, as the strategist, protects YQY and that which is his (the sect), which of course, is also SQQ’s. He refuses to acknowledge that’s what happening but it is.

In a situation where their shit is together enough to have shared heats/ruts (and while it’s consensual yearning, SQQ is patting himself on the back for having ‘stolen’ YQY’s heats for himself, as if there was ever any other option YQY would consider), an accidental pregnancy only would throw a huge wrench into things.

Despite the fact that omegas are expected to get pregnant, and despite what SQQ may be driven to say while heat drunk, he never actually expects YQY to get pregnant.

So when it does happen, I fully picture it being a moment of crisis for SQQ.

And while I love the fics where he is a doting and possessive parent (see hints in NYY’s Best Day Ever), in my eyes, it wouldn’t fly like that.

In the universe where YQY stays, where SQQ actually lets him talk, his immediate reaction is that of revulsion and horror.

SQQ doesn’t want to share YQY with anyone, especially when he thinks his current hold on him is already precarious. (it’s not, they’re just both idiots who can’t talk)

I do think tho, that YQY would be ecstatic but also be hyper aware of the fact that this is a nightmare for SQQ. In YQY’s twisty brain, this is a connection to SQQ that can never be severed, one he assumes SQQ will interpret as shackles, so he won’t push for him to take responsibility of the child. He will, however, give him the option to be involved. And he really hopes he will be, but at the same time YQY sees the writings on the wall, and imagines that SQQ will no longer see him as a convenient body to warm his bed and return to the brothels.

(Having sex with drastic miscommunication is just the QiJiu way)

Mean SQQ is spiraling because WTF why would YQY keep this thing when he’s an unmarked, unmarried omega? He is ruining his, and by extension, the sect’s reputation! wtf why would he do that??!! Why would he risk everything he’s built for some child. He’s ridiculous, he’s stupid for even considering it.

(SQQ may be projecting a bit here.)

He may also be incredibly jealous of the role his own unborn child is taking in YQY’s life, superseding any importance SQQ or Xiao Jiu may have held. But at the same time, instincts and his general possessiveness over YQY, means he can’t exactly stay away. He bitches and moans and acts like he doesn’t care but he is involved during the pregnancy process because he can shamelessly dote on YQY (while pretending he isn’t) and provide for him in ways he hasn’t otherwise been able to. Their inner omega/alphas are just singing the entire way through. YQY is being cared for by the most important person to him and SQQ gets to be openly territorial in a way that no one can question. (The pregnancy sex is insane, so much emotional tension that they think only They are feeling!!)

The other peak lords also have to like, deal with whatever is going on with them. Their shared heat/ruts were an open secret but now there is a BABY?? I do think that at some point SQQ will lie and say they’ve Been married for years, just to cover for their reputations. In true pidw, this doesn’t help His reputation because people remember all too well the rumors of his brothel visits but what can they say when YQY is vibrating out of his skin with happiness over this.

(This becomes another Thing they don’t talk about, but being called husband in bed is as good as hitting the g-)

Then comes Shen Yuan.

And now there is this physical manifestation of the thing that will steal YQY away. By nature of being a baby, he does take a lot of attention away from SQQ due to the fact that he is literally dependent on YQY to stay alive. The rosey days together come to an end as SQQ retreats to brood and YQY is being depressed that the wick has finally burned out and their farce of a relationship is over.

He’ll come over sometimes (refusing to admit it’s because he misses YQY) just to look at SY, to try to find the traces of YQY in him that he can latch onto. Unfortunately babies don’t really look much like anything at first but swollen little aliens, so it really doesn’t help. Even worse, when he starts to develop his own distinct features, SY looks more like Shen Qingqiu.

And there is no one SQQ resents more than himself.

There's more to this such as how the other peak lords play into thing but in the end, I think it would take something flipping in SQQ's brain where he starts categorizing SY as something valuable of his (like his favorite hair pin, or expensive robes) that he starts to care about SY as something other than a Thing That Belongs to YQY.

When SY starts to develop his own personality and independence, I think that's where the next major shift would happen. Oh look, here is a thing that is no longer something like a creature and is a human with thoughts and agency and some of those thoughts include idol worshiping SQQ and YQY. Hmm.....interesting.

(in a transmigration situation, i don't think SY would have access to all his memories until he's older so this is plausible!)

Anyways, SY is upgraded from Expensive Hairpin to Purse Dog where SQQ gets a kick out of dressing him up, doing his hair, seeing what tricks he can do, and showing him off. But the second he needs actual human connection, he shoves him back at YQY.

As SY ages (and subsequently earns SQQ's respect) he's able to identify what SQQ is saying between barbs and mutual, if distant, affection. Having grown up with the titular scum villain, and seeing him be affectionate with YQY, he would be invested enough to do well to save both their skins from Luo Binghe's wrath.

Does being a parent make SQQ a better teacher? Hmmmm debatable, possibly unlikely, there is no YQY for him to throw his disciples at but at the very least he has a basis of comparison for age appropriate mile markers.

(He does not, SY is not a normal child by any means. His lineage and transmigration have made him OP in all the ways.)

SQQ will look at his students struggling to master something SY learned three years previously and get an opportunity to both shame and brag, he delights in this. Meanwhile, SY is dying inside, certain that he now has a horde of enemies across QJP (He does NOT, the wife beam is in affect) so he actively decides to stay on QDP and hide behind YQY's skirts and tag along to meetings so he can be nosey about the world building. He is also living his best life as the spoiled son of the sect leader and wandering across the peaks getting into monster shenanigans. In a nod to canon, instead of bringing back lost fans (because SQQ would never!) it's SY that LQG drops off to QJP or QDP by the scruff of his robes.

(SQH is going insane in the bg, WTF is happening with his plot?!)

To match the Father, Oh Father reveal, here Shen Yuan's freak out would be over finding out that QiJiu never actually married and that their whole relationship is even WEIRDER than he initially thought.

(meanwhile LBH sees qijiu as a love story and plans to follow in their footsteps and marry shen yuan so they can rule the sect together. Little does he know that sy has 0 plans of becoming the sect leader.)

[totallynotandie]

A Lot’s On My Mind

Or, my rewrite of MH where Brian doesn’t die (It’s worse than death!)

God, he hopes Tim will understand.

It's the last thought The Hooded Man has before his head hits the concrete, the pain isn’t as bad as he thought it would be but the squishy feeling of the back of his head makes him feel sick. He focuses on Tim instead, almost missing the sight of his old best friend peaking over the balcony. He wants to know how he’s thinking, but the nothingness is too welcoming. He’s wrapped in it like a blanket, wrapping him up until it covers his eyes and he can’t do anything but sleep.

He can finally sleep.

The nothingness is still there but he knows he’s somewhere else. A place he has escaped time and time again but only really remembers when he’s there.

The Ark.

The last place he wanted to end up after that stunt. He can’t find it in him to stand again despite the pain being gone.

Everything Is Normal.

The sky is so dark that he can’t tell if he’s closed his eyes or not and the thought makes him so tired. He just wants to sleep now but if he is still alive then he needs to leave this place. He doesn’t want to know what would happen if he let himself drift away here.

Food For The Ark.

The thought hits him hard enough to make him fling upwards, the motion causing his head to spin. He brings his hand back to assess the damage, cringing at the squishy feeling of what could only be blood and deciding not to look for his sanity.

Everything Is Fine.

He decides that it's probably a concussion, not the worst thing he has dealt with and it won’t be the last - probably. He’ll have to worry about that after he escapes. He digs a flashlight out of his hoodie pocket, using it to at least see the ground in front of him.

The Hooded Man pushes himself to his feet, stumbling over his lanky legs while fighting the blurry vision caused by his small headache. That was the one thing he enjoyed about The Ark - its ability to at least numb most of the pain. His normally dry throat didn’t burn while he breathed, he almost felt like he could speak clearly if he tried but what was the point when there was no one to speak to?

A part of him missed talking, he remembers never being able to shut up when he was younger and made acquaintances everywhere he went. Everyone knew him- or at least knew he was a friendly guy. He was never alone, always having someone there to talk about the latest shitty movie or any other pointless thing that mattered at the time. But he was alone now, alone and staring down into a dark hole that seemed to go on forever.

Maybe a fall from there would work better.

He turns away from the hole and is met with the sight of someone else lying on the ground.

Jay.

By the looks of it, there's nothing left but a shell - A broken mind.

There is nothing he can do for him now and so he walks away. But the darkness swallows the light and causes his flashlight to be worthless.

Keep moving.

He can’t stop, he has to get out, he has to see them again.

His flashlight works enough to land on The Operator's blank face.

He is falling- no, he’s sinking in the water now. It's cold but that's the least of his problems with all the worries running through his head. He doesn’t want to die, he just wants to get away from its influence. He misses being normal, he misses his friends- He misses his mom.

He couldn’t stop himself from mourning a life he could no longer have- it infected him with something incurable, something that was going to always come back. The tears mix with the water while he thinks of the worst.

This is where I should stay now. Away from anyone I could ever hurt again. Away from-

He knew that white mask but he couldn’t bring himself to reach for it. He hadn’t seen Tim use the mask for months now. Had he been able to break away from it? Was he thrown down here to be taunted by it? Or was this just where things went when they weren’t needed anymore?

That made the most sense to him- what would he even do if he came back? He already proved time and time again that he didn’t have the guts to kill someone. That’s how Alex kept getting away from him and it made him feel like the biggest dumbass between the four of them. But he tried to fix that but helping in other ways- he tried to tell the others everything he knew, But no matter how hard he tried it only came out in riddles or code.

This was the clearest he’s been able to think in a long time.

He finally makes it to the end of the water but there's no ground, like a flipped image he falls through like the sky was just one big pond. He feels like he’s falling forever but he can’t bring himself to open his eyes. Wasn’t all this supposed to end the last time he fell? It made his stomach churn in the way it does when he sees blood just thinking about what a big splat he’ll make.

But he’s laying face first in the grass now and he doesn’t remember landing. He can’t even remember if he was falling anymore- was it just messing with his head? The air smells better here, smells familiar but he’s too busy collecting himself to connect what it is.

He rips his mask off after pushing himself up to sit on his knees, looking around dumbfoundedly at the familiar scene before him.

He was home.

But he shouldn’t be, dead people don’t get to return home.

But he also couldn’t ignore how…alive he felt. Like a video game character who just used a health potion. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good, even before The Operator he would always have something sore- a hangnail or a mosquito bite. It felt unnatural to feel no pain. But he could still feel- he felt his knees getting damp from the grass, the warm night air on his face, the cool feeling of breathing it all in.

He was home and he was…free?

Brian could still think clearly like he was in The Ark but the world in front of him was full of color. He was in the backyard of the house he grew up in, the house his mom owns.

I haven’t seen her since that morning I left to shoot with Alex...

The day Brian died The Hooded Man took his place, but Brian is back now and he misses his mom. He’s quickly on his feet and walking towards the back door, ignoring how the door is painted a different color. The familiar white is replaced with red and the chicken sign she always had hanging on it is gone too.

It doesn’t matter, people change and so do the things they own.

He doesn’t have a key, but years of accidentally forgetting his key somewhere made him learn how to learn how to pick locks. Luckily he remembers that he already broke the lock on one of the dining room’s windows when he was still learning. Deciding to work smarter, not harder, he rounds the house and tries to open the window.

It’s Locked.

It looks like his mom fixed it but he’s still able to pick the lock. It slides open easily and he still expects Cooper to run up and greet him- probably waking his mom with his barking. But all he hears is the ticking of a grandfather clock that he doesn’t quite remember his mom owning.

It’s been like, 6 years? I’m probably just isn’t remembering right.

He pulls himself in, his feet muffled by the new white carpet that his muddy boots soiled. He’ll have to clean that up later because he’s too distracted by all the new changes his mom put into the house while he’s been gone. The dining table stayed the same but where it normally had fresh flowers it now held some piece of modern art, he’s unsure what it’s supposed to be as it just looks like a white cube with more cubes flouting off it.

She sure has gotten some weird tastes since I’ve been gone.

He chuckles while he picks it up, flipping it around in his hand to look it over. He cringes at the mud that he leaves on it and decides it’ll be a better surprise if he cleans up his mess before she wakes up. The broom closest is where he remembers it, but the products in it are more expensive than he remembers.

Did dad start sending her more money?

He wonders, a bitter taste from the thought of his absent father whose only good came from the steady paychecks. Brian hasn’t seen him since he was 10, the last time either of them saw him while he gave his mother a wad of cash and flew off to Vegas. Brian thought he would have gambled everything away already, but it looks like his father took all of the familys luck.

He grabs some sprays and realizes the rags aren’t where they usually are. Looking around again he notices that the familiar tan wallpaper is now gone and replaced with an off-white paint, making the whole room brighter. Something about it made Brian feel sick, like he should be realizing something but his brain just wont let him.

I just need some water…can’t remember the last time I’ve had any.

He stumbles to the kitchen, trying to ignore his racing heart. He tries not to notice that he doesn’t recoganze any of the mugs, filling one up at the refurnished sink and chugging all the water down in big gulps. He repeats this a few times, not realizing how much he missed water even after having almost drowned 10 minutes earlier. When he’s done he leans back against the sink and lets out a sigh, basking in the feeling of being in his childhood home again.

But instead of smelling like breakfast food and cheap flowers it smells like artificial vanilla and pizza. When he opens his eyes he stares at the remodeled kitchen, unable to recognize anything from his childhood. He desperately tries to find anything familiar, pausing when his eyes land on the fridge.

Pictures of a family that looks too happy to be considered real replace his baby photos. He can’t help but to slowly walk towards it, pulling what had to be a stock photo off, letting the magnet hit the floor while he just stares at it.

This has to be some kind of sick joke.

“Put your hands where I can see ‘em’.” A man stands at the door in a bathrobe, a handgun pointing expertly at Brian's head. How long had he been staring at the photo? How is the stock image man in the same room as him?

“Why are you in my house?” His voice is deeper than he remembers but much smoother than it should be from not using it for the last 6 or 7 years. He keeps his eyes on the floor, hoping so desperately that it isn’t what he thinks is happening to him. Stuff like that only happened in cheesy movies.

“This ain’t your house, me and my family been living here for years.” The safety clicks and Brian looks up at the man, tears running down his face at a revelation that he was still desperately hoping to be false.

The older man stares at him for a moment, eyes widening before he slowly lowers his gun. “Wait…wait a moment. You’re that missing kid. Brian Thomas? We still have a paper up for you in the office.”

Kid? He had to be in his late 20s by now.

“What happened to my mom? Grace Thomas. She lived here.”

“Oh…kid.”

He didn’t need to hear anything else after that, a different kind of ringing filling his ears as if to try and protect him. But it quickly became familiar when he saw its face pushed against the dining room window, only slightly visible from his view from the kitchen and the off-duty cop in front of him. Thoughts that he knew now weren’t his filled his mind, thoughts of the stock photo family staining the stupid white carpet red.

How dare they live so happily in what was supposed to be his home.

He bites his tongue to try and ignore what the operator is putting in his head, but when did it get in the dining room?

Mom died because I wasn’t here to take care of her when she was sick.

He knows that. It doesn’t need to keep repeating it to him.

“What the fuck in that??”

Gunshots snap him out of it for a moment, watching the poor man in front of him desperately try and shoot at the creature and somehow miss every shot despite his close range. Brian can’t help but be a little impressed that he had the balls to do that, the thought had never crossed his mind.

There’s nothing left for me now, I might as well do as I’m told.

The gun is still in his pocket and while he knows that thought really isn’t his own he still can’t get over the relief he knows he will feel after he finally gets this all over with. Maybe it will finally leave him alone this time.

It’s not like his mom will get the chance to be disappointed in him now.

For the first time since he became The Hooded Man, he raises the gun with a clear head.

For the first time, He does as The Operator wishes.