#or that his mom said my look is that i dress vintage and it made me SO HAPPY!! that's my look!!! that's how I'm recognisable!!!

[wherela]

one of those crying in the shower kind of days

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

If You Let Me, Part Two

Warnings: language, smut, angst, references to cheating

When you were a little girl, you would dress up in your mother's vintage 80s wedding dress and imagine your wedding with Joe. In your defense, you were five and he was seven, and your idea of a marriage ceremony was shaking hands at the altar and then going out for ice cream afterward. You were naive to say the least, like most five year olds, but at the time it felt real. The love you had for him was of the purest form.

Little you would be heartbroken to know that now, not only were you not married to Joe, but as the two of you walked down the aisle, rehearsing for your brother's wedding, you had hurt him so badly, he couldn't stand the sight of you.

"Joe, I'm sorry." You mumbled under your breath. Step forward.

"You said that already." He gritted out between clenched teeth, his gaze held out front. Step forward.

"But I feel like you're not accepting of my apology." You looked over at him; Joe could feel your eyes burning on his skin. Step forward.

"Because I don't." Stop moving.

"Let's try to keep in time with the music!" The stress on the wedding planner's voice was evident. You were messing up the timing, a large gap forming between you and the bridesmaid and groomsman pair before you.

"I don't accept your apology." Joe rolled his shoulders back, he refused to lose his composure in front of a crowd. "That kiss, it never happened. Just forget about it." You felt your eyes start to burn, tears threatening to fall. "As soon as this weekend is over, we'll be out of each other's lives for good." He left you standing in the middle of the aisle.

"Please keep up! Timing is everything!" You jumped at the command of the wedding planner.

****

After the rehearsal, the bridal and groomsman parties were set to head to a house your family had rented out for the weekend. If it wasn't bad enough that you had to walk next to Joe in the wedding, you were also going to be forced to be in the same house as him for the next 24 hours. It read like a bad romance novel, except there was no chance the two of you would be sleeping together tonight.

To no doubt impress the wedding party, your mom chose a mansion in the suburbs of Cincinnati, complete with a library and theater room. You chose a bedroom on the far side of the house to sleep in, away from Joe and pretty much everyone else, and while the rest of the party was drinking and having fun in the living room, you were hiding out in the library, nursing a large glass of wine on the made to look vintage leather couch on the far side of the room.

"How did I know I would find you hiding in a corner somewhere?" Your brother Chris was a spitting image of your father, from the way their brow furrowed when they were angry, to the downturn of their mouths when they smiled. He sat down next to you on the sofa with a groan, placing his beer on the table. "Old habits die hard, I guess." You admitted with a chuckle. As a kid, your face was always buried in a book, a trait you got from your dad, and you had lost count of how many hiding places you had around the house that gave you peace and quiet.

"Dad would have loved this library." Chris took in the tall, ceiling height bookshelves filled with books. "But he would have hated this house."

"Why do you need a house with so many bathrooms? You can only use one at a time!" The two of you said in unison, followed by laughter. Your mother was extravagant, but your father was as simple as they came, and he hated excess. They always butted heads when the two of you were growing up, over pretty much everything.

"How does it feel? Last night as a single man." You patted your brother's shoulder. "Good. It feels really good. I'm ready for tomorrow. Glad to have you in the wedding. I know mom had to drag you in kicking and screaming, but I'm still really glad you're here, sis." Your breath hitched as you saw Joe walk past the door to the library. Chris tracked your gaze, noticing you staring at him.

"Have the two of you kissed again, yet?" His question startled you, making you spill a bit of wine on your dress. "What are you talking about?", you asked, frantically trying to dab at the stain with a napkin.

"Please. Joe is my best friend, I know when somethings going on with him. Give me a little bit more credit than that." Chris could tell you were worried he wasn't going to approve. Your best friend and your little sister, it hardly sits well with anyone. He grabbed your arm reassuringly. "Don't worry. I was mad about it at first, but I've had three years to get over it."

"When did he tell you?" You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, avoiding eye contact.

"The night it happened. He got drunk and it slipped. Almost punched him, but I was hardly in any position to fight anyone that night either." Chris downed the last of his beer before turning to you. "Mom knows how to throw a Christmas party." You smiled, tears brimming in your lashes. "That she does."

"I'm guessing you two didn't make up today." There was that same downturned face. You'd seen it when your father was disappointed with you many times as a child. "I think we're way past that, Chris. I don't think there's any relationship to fix between us."

"I wouldn't be so sure. He asks about you all the time. If you'll be at any of Mom's gatherings. If you were going to be in the wedding. I think there's still something there." You felt a lightness at Chris' words, a glimmer of hope was there for the first time.

"Chris! Its time for the toast!" Tiffany's voice trailed down the hall.

"Ah, time for me to do the only thing I'm good at." Chris stood, a little bit wobbly. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yes. Go, I'll be right there." You closed your eyes as Chris laid a quick kiss on your forehead.

****

Joe yawned, stretching out his back as he took the stairs up to his bedroom. He noticed the door to one of the rooms was open, and as he peeked his head in, he was yanked by the arm into what he quickly realized was a closet.

"Shhh." You covered his mouth with your hand, listening intently for your mother's voice. When you realized you were in the clear, you slowly removed your hand. "Sorry, I couldn't risk you compromising my location. My mom wants me to try on the bridesmaid dress before tomorrow, but I've had way too much wine to deal with her right now." The two of you were chest to chest in the small room, Joe almost tall enough to rest his chin on the top of your head. You tried to ignore how good he smelled in the small confines of the closet. This wasn't the time to go weak at the knees.

"Can I go now?" Joe huffed, consciously avoiding eye contact with you, shoving his hands in his front pockets. "Yeah." You grabbed at the handle. "Actually, no, we need to talk."

"Oh my god." Joe grumbled out, running a hand down his face in frustration.

"No, listen, please. I get it. You don't like me, that's fine. I deserve that." You accidentally rested your hands on his chest, feeling the contours of his muscles. Joe cleared his throat, looking down at you, which immediately made you pull back. "Oh, Sorry."

"I need you to accept my apology, Joe. I know its selfish, but I can't breathe around you right now, and I hate that. I need us to be okay. You are my brother's best friend. I want to be able to go to holidays and dinners without worrying that I'm going to be running into you. We don't need to be friends, just okay." You felt yourself rambling, but you couldn't stop. Joe's silence didn't help.

"Can you tell me one thing?" Joe rubbed at his jawline, finally taking in your face. He hated how beautiful you looked, it made everything a lot harder. "Yes, anything." You didn't know what to do with your hands, opting to place them on your hips awkwardly.

"If you hadn't been heartbroken- I mean, if you hadn't just gotten out of a relationship, would we have been something more?" You could read between the lines of his question. Would that kiss have led to sex, or a relationship, or anything besides you leaving him alone and cold on the balcony that night.

"Yes." You answered without hesitation. "It was never about you, Joe. It was about me not wanting to hurt you. I really fucked that up, but you have to believe that I had good intentions." You held your breath as you waited for his response. Joe's gaze dropped to your lips, his mouth slightly agape as he listened to you talk. "Say something, please."

You let out a small gasp as Joe pulled you into his body, crashing lips with yours, his kiss hungry and passionate. You couldn't breathe, but you didn't care in the moment, pressing yourself into his chest as he pinned you against the door. His hands were all over you, first at your back, before falling to grab your ass. You raked your fingernails through his short hair, whining into his mouth.

Frantic to get you undressed, he broke away quickly to help you get your shirt over your head before his mouth was on yours again, his tongue pressing between your teeth to explore your mouth. Your kisses turn into short pecks on his lips as his chest heaves, trying to catch a breath. You place both of your hands on his chest, gently pushing him away.

"I swear to God, if you're rejecting me again." Joe leaned his forehead against yours, blinking into the darkness of the closet, his only thought of kissing you again. "No, no, listen." You had learned the heaviness of your mother's footsteps over the year, and could tell she was coming down the hallway. "Y/N! Where are you, hun? We need to get this dress fitted before tomorrow!"

"We have to get out of here." Joe chuckled, holding you in a hug as you waited for your mom to pass. You slowly opened the door, your shirt covering your chest as you checked both directions before you grabbed Joe's hand, pulling him toward your room.

****

With a lock of the door, Joe had you on the bed, hovering over you. "I've been thinking about this for so long." Joe pressed a kiss between your breasts as he worked to get your jeans off, fumbling with the button. "Me too", you heaved out, lifting your hips to help him. You pulled him back up to you by the collar of his shirt, cupping his face as you kissed him, sucking on his bottom lip. You unhooked your bra with one hand, playfully tossing it over his shoulder, your panties following suit. Joe quickly pushed off the bed to take his shirt off, revealing his tan, toned chest. He tosses a condom from his wallet over to you, and you carelessly rip the packaging with your teeth.

"Hurry up!" You giggled as he shed his pants, his erection visible beneath his cotton boxers. "We've waited three years. You can wait five more seconds." With one blink, he was back on top of you, his hands framing your face. You pulled his weight down on top of you, your fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down past his thighs.

You let out a content sigh as his hands traveled down to your lower stomach, his calloused fingers grazing against your clit, making you shiver. You couldn't control the moan that left your mouth as he drug his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you were for him.

"Does this feel good?", his eyes followed your face for approval as he pressed his thumb against your sensitive bud, gently slipping two fingers into your pussy. "Oh, yes."You nod frantically, grabbing onto his bicep for leverage as he begins to quicken the pace of his digits, his fingers disappearing in and out of you, each thrust making you clench down around his hand.

Joe tries to kiss you, but you can barely concentrate on anything happening above the waist, your mouth hanging open as you feel your orgasm hurdling toward you. "Oh, fuck, Joe." You're digging your fingernails into his shoulders, but his focus is on your pleasure, praising you as you come undone beneath him. "So beautiful, so good for me."

Your legs begin to shake, toes going numb as you came, Joe's deep, husky voice in your ear driving you crazy. Waves of pleasure washed over you, every muscle in your body contracting over and over again as you ride the high, Joe continuing to thrust into you, slower and more controlled now, extending your orgasm. He feels your walls fluttering around his fingers, and he slowly pulls out.

"Hmmm", the sound vibrates through your chest as Joe peppers kisses along your jawline. Just touching you, feeling your delicate skin beneath his hand turns him on. There hasn't been a day since the two of you kissed where he hasn't imagined this exact scenario, finally getting to fuck you, see you writhe beneath him, and the way you perform, uninhibited and so fuckin' sexy, is better than anything he could have imagined.

"I want you, Joe. I don't want to wait any longer." You take in his baby blue eyes, his jaw flexing as you stroke his length, feeling the warmth pool in his lower stomach as you circle the head of his cock. He watches as you roll the condom down his cock, before taking over.

Joe presses himself against your entrance as you spread your legs further, his fingertips digging into your hips as you take him all the way to the hilt. "Fuck", Joe curses on his breath as you wiggle your hips down as much as you can, your ass pressed against his pelvis.

That first thrust is euphoric, knocking the breath out of your lungs. You gasp at the stretch each time he disappears in and out of you, but Joe takes it slow, reading your face and listening to your words, so incredibly attentive to your needs. When your back arches as he continues to move his hips, he throws your legs over his shoulders, kissing at your calves, each stroke passing right over your g-spot.

You let out a high pitch noise, and Joe's pace slows. "Don't stop. Feels so good." you encourage him, wrapping your legs around his waist and hooking your ankles behind his back, pulling him deeper inside of your pussy.

You feel your orgasm building again, and you can tell by the way Joe's face contorts that he's close as well. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum", Joe grunts out, collapsing down on your chest, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He continues to snap his hips into you as your orgasm for the second time, the release just as powerful as the first time, your nails raking up and down his back.

You shiver at the feeling as he cums, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your chests heave in unison as the two of you come down from your highs, Joe moving to laying next to you.

"That was-", you feel yourself blush, relishing in the pleasure. "Fuckin' fantastic." Joe finishes your sentence, chuckling as he pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss onto your temple. You rub his sides, drawing relaxing circles over his skin, as he drapes your leg over his body. "I'm glad we saw each other at the church yesterday." Joe tips your chin up to look at him, his hand stroking your cheek. "I am too." You meet him in a kiss, soft and gentle, all of your energy gone.

You feel your eyelids grow heavy, feeling a sense of calm wash over you as you fall asleep in Joe's arms.

****

Joe is already gone when you wake up. You can't help but smile to yourself, overwhelmed by how happy you feel. You head to your room and quickly get dressed, knowing that everyone will be having breakfast soon.

Joe is watching you from the kitchen island as you walk into the kitchen. He gives you a wink when he's sure no one else is watching, and you feel the heat rise in your chest, desperately wanting to feel his lips on yours again.

"Nice of you to join us, sleepy head." Chris hands you a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter. "You disappeared last night. Missed a riveting game of charades. Where'd you end up?" It takes everything in you to not look at Joe, whose gaze drops to his coffee cup. Chris never misses anything, noticing the tension between you and Joe. "Oh. Yeah, sorry I asked." Chris shakes off the visuals, leaving you and Joe alone in the kitchen.

"Good Morning." Joe is downright beaming as he smiles at you.

"Good Morning." You start to speak, but are interrupted by the doorbell. "Must be the makeup artists."

"Must be." Joe agrees, a cocky grin on his face.

Your mom enters the kitchen, already dressed as if she was ready to head to the wedding. "Oh hun, there you are. I have a surprise for you. I know you weren't exactly excited to go to the wedding, and I happened to run into his mom yesterday before the rehearsal and one thing led to another...". You furrowed your brow at your mom. "What did you do?"

Your stomach turns as a guy walks into the kitchen behind her, his dark brown hair almost covering his eyes, a scraggly beard covering his face. If you didn't have his face memorized, you probably wouldn't have recognized him. Three years without seeing someone will do that to your memory.

"Brandon? What are you doing here?" You almost drop your coffee cup as you look at your ex-boyfriend. The same one who had cheated on your three years ago.

Tag-List:

@wonderlandiswhereitsatyo

@bernelflo

@wickedfun9

@brrbrina

@zobellagio

[xomakara]

A Heavenly Night

SUMMARY |  In which Jaemin takes you out on a date. But as friends? Tired of being friend-zoned, you confess your feelings. Little did you know that he felt the same way. PAIRINGS | Jaemin/Fem!Reader GENRE |  Friends to lovers, romantic?, fluff, soft, smut, general perversion RATING |  Mature LENGTH | 4,170 words AUTHOR’S NOTE |  I said "fuck it, I'm writing a Jaemin oneshot." And here it is. I know it's not as smutty compared to the DIY series with Jeno but I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. I need to write more soft yet smutty stories lolol.

"The boys told me that you wouldn't say no. So… Get your pretty black dress on. You're going on a date with me!"

You looked at the text message you received from your best friend of many years and grimaced. A date with him of all people.

You: You're joking right? Nana: Why would I be joking? We're going on a date. You: Seriously? Who are you and what have you done with Jaemin? Nana: I suddenly have the courage to ask you on a date and you don't want to? You: I never said that! But really, is this you? Nana: Oh c'mon Y/N. Let's just go hang out for old time sake. You: ...fine. But you better treat me to something uber fancy.

You shook your head and stared at your phone for the longest. What was up with him? Na Jaemin never, NEVER, asked you out on a date before. For as long as you have known him, he only wanted to hang out as long as your other friends were around.

You sighed and wondered what that weirdo was doing the last few months. You had been childhood friends with Jaemin for quite a long time but you both haven't seen each other lately due him being busy. You'd sometimes stop by the practice room, you being a stylist for the company, and would just hang around to watch them.

Sometimes you'd just say hi and talk to the other members of NCT.

Jaemin didn't know it, but you had fallen pretty hard for him. It was as if whenever you saw someone who looked almost like him, you'd burst into a smile and bite your lip and realize that it was just someone who looked like him. Or when he would simply text you a simple good morning greeting or ask you for some advice, you would have some stupid smile on your face. You dropped your shoulders and pouted. 

Geez, what was Na Jaemin doing to make you fall for him?

After replying that he better treat you to a five star restaurant and some high class wine, you went into your closet and dug around in lace and frills to find a black dress. In your search, you managed to find only three in which you threw them on your bed and analyzed them.

"Ugh, what the hell was mom thinking getting me this monstrosity?" Wide-eyed, you poked at the frilly dress etched with tacky baubles and sequins. It looked like a vintage retro dress and was horribly made. "Does she think I live in the '80s or something? This is totally not a look."

Moving on to the next dress, you sighed. This dress had humiliating moments for you. Though it was a fashionable dress with its knee-length hugging skirt and a deep v-cut in front, you couldn't stop the embarrassing wardrobe malfunction that occurred when you were partying with the NCT members for Taeyong’s birthday last year. You ended up flashing your boobs to wide-eyed Kun and Jisung. You weren't going to have that happen again. "Nope. I don't want my tits being ogled by them. And since I have a feeling that he may bring some of the pervs along, I'm not going to take that chance."

You rummaged through your closet once more.

"When did I get this dress?" You blinked. No matter how many times you thought back, you didn't recall getting this dress. It was a sexy, strapless piece that laced up in the back. The skirt was rather short and looked liked it would hug all your curves but shorts would do no harm. 

"Hmm? What's this?"

A little note was attached to the dress:

'You seem a little lonely and tired lately. I'm sorry if I haven't been around lately. Hoping you wear this on our date!'

You rolled your eyes and smiled at the cheesiness of it. Your best friend was sure something. Jaemin actually got you a dress? When did he have the time to plant it in your closet? Putting away the other dresses apart from the third one, you got yourself ready. You couldn't debate if you wanted to wear lace underwear or cotton. 

Or a thong? You didn’t want your panty lines to show.

Maybe no panties would work in this case. But then, you didn’t really want to go commando.

"It's not like he'll see me in my underwear right?" You asked yourself looking in the mirror and telling yourself that even though your best friend was gorgeously hot, you'd never give him certain priorities. "Nah. It’s Jaemin, after all. There’s no way he’d try to get down my pants…well up my skirt."

Ding dong!

"Coming!" You called out as you ran to your front door. Opening it, you were met with the smiling face of NCT's Jaemin.

And his good-looking groupmates.

Like that wasn't a surprise.

"Oh!  You're wearing the dress that Johnny picked out?" Ten asked as he eyed you appreciatively. "It looks really good on you Y/N."

"So Johnny bought it instead. I should've known." You muttered as you smoothed out the little black dress. It definitely was fashionable and Johnny did have some great fashion sense. You gave a small turn and gave a wink to the others. "How do I look then?"

"You look nice!" Renjun gave you a thumbs up.

"It’s sexy." Jaehyun nodded, a grin on his mischievous face. "That's totally your style."

"Besides," You started as you eyed the massive membered group, as you lightly fingered the end of the dress. "How in the world did you stash this in my closet? I gave my spare to Jae— Was it you Jaemin?"

He shook his head fervently. "No...why would you think that?"

"Because you have my spare." You gave him a look that said 'duh you loser'. "Who else would have access to my apartment?"

"Well you see..." Renjun began, "Jeno took it from Jaemin's bag when he wasn't looking and then Mark and Johnny snuck in here."

"The hell, bro?" Mark exclaimed, an exasperated look on his face.

"And this is why I absolutely adore Renjun." You patted the man’s hair. You turned on the two men who came into your apartment and glared, Johnny letting out a small chuckle. " You saw my underwear, didn't you Johnny?!"

"Maybe just a little. You sure have lots of sexy underwear~"

"Oh? What kind?" Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. “Satin? Lace?”

"Really Jaehyun?" You turned on him before kicking his shin. You threw your hands in the air exasperated. "Ugh, who did I piss off in my past life to get this unfair treatment?"

"How Jaemin got her is still a mystery..." Ten whispered to Johnny, who in turn just nodded his head.

"He just got lucky. If she was my best friend..." Renjun mumbled, Mark elbowing him.

"Ugh." You frowned and looked at Jaemin. "Can we go now?"

Nodding his head, Jaemin led you to his car. The other NCT members took the other vehicle that was parked behind Jaemin, the others claiming that they feel more comfortable in the van (and Johnny’s driving) than in Jaemin's sports car. Getting in, you were just a bit disappointed that Jaemin didn't even compliment how you looked. You had more than a crush on him but Jaemin figured that you were just a friend and treated you like one.

Getting into the driver seat and starting the car, Jaemin reached towards the backseat and grabbed a small box, handing it to you. "A present."

"From who? Johnny didn't get it either, did he?"  You asked as you took the small box. You hopefully wished it was from him.

"Open it and you'll see." Jaemin shrugged as he sped off.

Opening it, your eyes widened. You looked at the trinket in the box to the man next to you. "You're kidding right?"

"It's from Taeyong." He muttered as he kept his eye on the road. You were a tad bit sad since it wasn't him who got it for you.

"Oh." Closing the jewelry box, you shifted in your seat and deeply inhaled. You didn't want a gift from Taeyong. You wanted it from Jaemin.

Glancing at you, he noticed that you looked quite down. "You alright? Y/N?"

"I'm fine, Jaemin."

Jaemin raised an eyebrow before looking back at the road. What is he supposed to say now? "You look..."

"Look what?"

"Nice. You look nice."

"Oh." You muttered. "Thank you."

Just nice? Was he really this blind? 

He got silent again and he was trying to rack his brain, thinking of something to say. "Originally, it was just supposed to be me and you going on this date."

Now that was a surprise. 

He usually brought along others since he never wanted to do stuff without them. "Really? Then the others...?"

"Renjun  thought it would've been cool to tag along. And then Mark-hyung got hungry and then the other hyungs all got this weird idea to drag themselves to our date." He said as he stopped at a red light, waiting for it to turn green. "But honestly, it was supposed to be me and you. No lie."

"Are you sure Na Jaemin?" You asked as you played with the box. You didn't want to put on the necklace. Sure it was a gift and it looked really nice but it wasn't from that special someone. "Normally you wouldn't ask me out anywhere. You're always complaining that if we were to go out, I'd be awkward without the guys."

"It wouldn’t be awkward." Jaemin let out a small laugh and you just wanted to strangle him for making your legs go weak from that simple gesture. “At least I wouldn’t think so.”

“Whatever Jaemin.” You rolled your eyes.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you sure you’re okay?" He asked you. You were acting a little different than usual, he noticed.

"I'm fine, Jaemin." You sighed. "I should text Taeyong a thank you for the necklace."

Jaemin gave you a look and became silent. In all honesty, he actually got you the present. And the dress. He had feelings for you but he didn't know if you saw him the same way so he just faked it. 

How did you feel? 

You looked a little disappointed about it though. Don't you like it? Was it the wrong design? Did he say the wrong member? Maybe you liked one of the other members like Mark instead of Taeyong?

Pulling into an unvacated spot in open plains, Jaemin parked the car, pulled out his phone to send a group message to his members to go on ahead to the restaurant, and looked at you. "Okay what's going on?"

"Nothing, Na Jaemin."

"Okay, something is going on if you're calling me by my full name." Unfastening his seatbelt, getting out of the car and opening the passenger door, he took your hand and pulled you along with him. The night was getting a bit chilly and you were wondering why the hell he parked in some open space with no trees and stuff in sight. His hands on your shoulder, he turned you to face him. "Y/N, what's wrong? You've been like this since I got to your apartment."

You gulped and looked away from him. You took a deep breath and calmed your nerves before looking at him. 

You were going to tell him. You were going to do it.

"I need to ask you something and I want you to be totally honest with me." You said as you looked him in the eyes. Gosh this was going to be hard. "It might be awkward with us after this but I have to know how you feel."

Jaemin looked at you, uncertain what he should say. 

Did you find out that he liked you? "Uhh..."

You ignored him, looking down at the ground instead. Why did he have to make it so hard? Sure he didn't really say anything but he was just making you a ball of emotions. "I have kept this in for a long while and it's about time I was straight up and just confronted you about it. I hope this doesn't ruin the relationship we already have. I just need to know and I can't see any other way to get over this."

"Y/N..."

"It just doesn't seem fair on me if I don't get an answer. I want you to tell me truthfully, no matter what it is. I just want your honest opinion... But... Do you have feelings for me? Even if just a little?"

"Damn..." Was his only response before he closed the distance between you both and pulled you in for a hug. He squeezes you tightly, giving you only enough air to breathe. "What if I said yes? Yes, I have feelings for you. What if I said yes, I had feelings for you for the longest?"

"Oh my god." You whispered, your heart beating awfully fast. "Jaemin, I..."

"Do you have feelings for me too?" Jaemin asked, pulling back a bit to look at you. "I'm baring my soul out to you and you can't say anything? I even bought you the dress and the necklace."

He bought the dress and necklace? Your mind clouded at that thought.

And then it clicked.

Why didn't he want to hang out with you alone.

How it must’ve been awkward with his feelings for you.

"I do. I do have feelings for you Jaemin." You cried out as you took his hand in yours. "I don't know when it all started. But I feel like I'm just in a messy puddle when I think about you and everything. Like I can't even think straight."

He chuckled, seeing you flustered was adorable. "How so?"

"Like... I want you to touch me. And I want to touch you." You whispered as you looked down. "Oh my god. Did I just really say that? I sound like a sexually deprived woman."

He took your cheeks in his palms and made you face him. "Geez. You're rambling now."

"I'm sorry. I'm just so... So nervous. Gosh, you're gorgeous... WHAT AM I SAYING?"

He chuckled. "You're gorgeous too, Y/N."

"You're not nervous?" You asked as your eyes widened. "I'm just a ball of emotions when you're around and I can't seem to think straight."

Jaemin gave you a sweet smile. "I am nervous. But I love you for being you."

“Did you just say…?”

“I love you?” Jaemin asked, you nodding your head slowly. “Loud and clear.”

He snaked an arm around your waist and slowly looked you in the eyes. He gave you a sheepish smile. "At least we're confessing when the guys aren't here."

Minutes passed and he still held your waist. Looking up at him, you raised an eyebrow. "So what? We're just going to stand here?"

"What do you want me to—"

"Oh Jaemin," You muttered before grabbing his collared shirt and pulling him down for a kiss. " We do not have time for this, Na Jaemin. Just kiss me."

It took but minutes for the two of you to arrive back at your apartment and Jaemin couldn't keep his hands off you. Kicking off your heels as he kick off his shoes, you took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He followed you, squeezing your hands in his. You squeezed back, confirming that it'll be okay.

"Y/N, you sure?" His voice was soft and low, that it was just sweet music to your ears.

"I'm positive, Jaemin." You nodded as you opened the door to your bedroom and pulled him in. Facing him, you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck. "I want you, Na Jaemin. And I want you now."

"I don't know..." Jaemin whispered as he bit his bottom lip. "You are just so..."

"Nice? Beautiful?" You leaned up and kissed his cheek, trailing kisses to the corner of his mouth. "Or sexy?"

"Fucking sexy," He groaned out as he pulled you in closer and held your gaze. "You're making me go crazy, Y/N."

"Glad to hear that."

He closed the distance between you two and sensually placed a trail of kisses down your collarbone. You sucked in a breath, his fingers slowly tracing your bare legs as they moved up closer to the hem of your skirt. He moved his lips up to your neck, slowly giving your hot skin small kisses before reaching the edge of your lips. He gazed lovingly in your eyes, before slowly capturing your lips and running his hands up your legs.

"Jaemin..."

"Shh..." He whispered as he took your lips in his again. He kissed you deep and long, your mouth opened to his and he angled his lips over yours. His tongue teased yours and desire course through you and you just ached for him.

You never wanted a boy, no, a man, like this. 

In fact, you couldn't even remember not wanting, not needing, not aching like this before. You moved your hands to his shirt, undoing each button until his shirt hung open and you pushed it off his big shoulders. He unlaced your dress and slid it down your body, his lips going back to your neck and up back to your own. Clad in just your lacy underwear and he in just his pants, he gathered you close.

"Johnny was right." He stared down at you. "You do wear sexy underwear."

"I have to feel sexy when I feel adventurous like this.” You muttered.

"You'll look good in even cotton underwear." He chuckled as he fingered your panties. "But lace underwear makes you look even more sexy."

"Just shut up. We don't have time for this Jaemin..."

"We have plenty of time..."

Your arms slid around his neck and his naked chest pressed against yours. He ran his hands up and down your body, stopping only to peel the backless adhesive bra from your breasts and fling it somewhere around the room. The chill air hit your nipples, which hardened in an instant before Jaemin pulled you closer, skin touching skin.

"Oh my god." You moaned aloud as heat gathered in your womb and moisture dampened in between your legs. "Jaemin..."

"Y/N." He groaned your name out, as he slid your panties down your legs and proceeded to take his pants and boxers off as well.

You wanted more from him. You enjoyed that he was lovingly placing kisses over your neck, face, and lips. But you wanted more. 

You felt his arousal lay erect against your tummy and you slipped a hand between the space between your bodies to wrap it around his length. He groaned against your mouth and you stroked him, loving the sexy guttural noises he made.

He pulled you tighter against him and suddenly lifted you up where you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your most intimate place pressed against his toned stomach and suddenly throbbed. You felt his length, hot and hard, resting beneath your ass. 

You threw your head back as he rained kisses on your neck. He took a step back and you both tumbled on the bed, your legs fell opened and he laid between them, cupping your breasts.

His tongue toyed with your nipples and you moaned and gripped his shoulders. Your fingers dug into his flesh and faint mewling sounds came from the back of your throat. "Oh my god, Jaemin..."

"Shh... Entrust your body to me."

He shifted to lay beside you, wrapping one arm around you. His free hand explored your body, caressed each curve. You traced the valleys of his chest, his stomach, his fingers. His fingers traveled lower, his fingers tracing circles on your tummy. He hooked one of your legs over his, spreading them open for him, one finger sliding lower, caressing you, before sliding it into you. The pressure of his finger increased before adding another finger into you, your hips rolled into rhythm with his touch.

"Jaemin, I need you so much..." You whimpered, his fingers working wonders on you. Without warning, he withdrew his fingers and settled himself between your legs. "I need you to fuck me now Jaemin."

"Fuck, baby." Jaemin groaned. He leaned down to capture your mouth.

"Fuck me, Jaemin," You cupped his cheek. "I want this. I want us. Let's become one."

With a small nod, you felt his cock, hard and hot, nudge into you. Slowly he slid into you, filling you, completing you, and you knew how big he was and how full you felt when he made that one last push into you.

"You okay, baby?"

You nodded your head. "Fuck you’re big Jaemin."

"You feel so good, baby." He pulled back, his tip almost out before easing into you again, letting you get used to him. His strokes were slow, measured, and you felt every inch of him within you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, deeper, your body throbbing around him, his length pulsing within you. 

"Fuck…" He breathlessly moaned out as he moved. He filled you, sank into your body, sheathed himself in your heat. He increased the motion of his hips as he continued to move. You arched upward with loud moans. 

Stunning pleasures built inside you, passion gaining intensely as Jaemin continued to thrust, harder, deeper, faster, skin slapping on skin. The sweat covered your bodies, making him even more turned on. 

He moved faster, harder. You rocked your hips against his, both your movements growing faster, frantic. He thrust into you again and again and you meet his passion with your own. His need with yours. Faster and harder and hotter you both moved in a rhythm naturally.

"Jaemin... I can't hold on any longer."

"Me too... Let me—"

"No." You tightened against him before he pulled out. "Just come in me, Jaemin. Let's feel good together."

He just groaned in approval and you wondered if the intensity of pleasure tightening within you would destroy you and you didn't care. 

You wanted more, ached for more.

He pumped harder, hitting that one spot you craved until you cried out in mere pleasure.

And then release claimed you, shattered you.

"Ah!" You cried out, your body arched upward, and your body shuddered against his as waves of pleasure racked your body again and again. "Fuck, Jaemin!"

Jaemin thrust hard once more and his muscles tensed against you, releasing himself into you. He groaned and his body shook for a moment or forever.

Until he stilled and you clung to him.

For a long time, neither of you moved and you enjoyed him still buried within you. 

Still one with you.

For an eternity you laid together. Jaemin struggled to catch his breath. At last he withdrew and rolled to the side, pulling you close.

"Oh, fuck…" you murmured against him. "Jaemin... You..."

"Good?" He closed his eyes and sleepily opened them to look at you.

You let out a sigh. "Really, really good."

"Ha-ha," he chuckled as he cupped your cheek. "I just never imagined our first kiss would lead to our first night together."

"Even if we didn’t fuck and just went out on this date like you planned, how was it?"

"It's perfect." He smiled at you, as both your foreheads touched. "You are... I have never felt this way before... For anyone else but you."

"I love you, you know that?" You whispered.

"I love you too."

"What do we tell the others?"  You suddenly asked as his phone started to ring.

"That you fell sick and I took care of you?" He suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Like that will fool them. Mark is too smart for that." You playfully slapped his chest. "Probably figured out that we finally caved in to our feelings. He probably knows we fucked."

"That’s all true though. At least I don’t have to worry about sharing you with anyone." Jaemin rubbed your back as he rummaged for the covers and pulled them up over your naked bodies. "Let me just close my eyes and listen to your breathing and have you run your fingers through my hair."

"Tell me that you love me again, Jaemin."

"As long as you tell me that you love me."

"I love you, Na Jaemin."

"And I love you, Y/N."

He slipped his hand between your legs, his fingers sliding over you. You shuddered and rocked against his hand, slick with desire.

He placed his hands on your waist and drew you closer to straddle his legs.

"Jaemin," you said in a weak voice. It was more of a moan than a word.

"I know you want me again." He suggestively muttered. You giggled and burrowed your head in the crook of his neck as he hugged you closer and entered you.

Your mornings with Jaemin would be tiring and your days would be memorable. 

But your nights with Jaemin would simply be heaven.

[toxicanonymity]

Newest instalment of Stepdad Joel was chefs kiss. But everyone already knew that! I’m in love with how he just can’t help himself. My man is insatiable. Toxic, would you be so kind as to bless us plebs with a lil Stepdad Joel behind the scenes lore? I have personally always wondered what the first time dear reader and he met was like? First impressions maybe?

Much love 🫶💗🐝

Thank you so much! 💗🫶💗 You are apparently the toxic lore whisperer. When you ask for lore, I crack my fingers. . .

700 words?? CW provocative album art. TW mommy issues but not much detail

stepdad master

-----

LORE: first meeting stepdad!Joel

His first impressions: Moody but harmless teenager.

Yours: Old but harmless nerd, trying too hard.

The first time you met, your mom was acting like they weren't dating, he was just, her friend Joel. You were late to lunch and she criticized your parking job.

"Are you gonna introduce me to all your 'friends' now?" You asked with air quotes right in front of Joel outside the cafe. 

Your mom apologized for you. Joel smiled and looked down at the ground and when his eyes found your vintage sneakers he said, "hey, fresh kicks." You cringed at him trying to sound cool but it was also disarming how lame he was making himself.  He was old (ish, but not as old as your mom), he was a nerd, he was a fool for liking your mom so much, and he did genuinely like her. Even before getting to know him, you felt a little bad for him because it would only be a matter of time until she couldn't keep up her fake niceness. 

Gradually you got to be buddies with him. One of the first times you spent time with him was at a food truck thing the three of you went to, and your Mom went off to "say hi" to a neighbor for thirty minutes. The two of you were sitting at the picnic table making small talk.  Joel was wearing an MCR shirt. He was surprised you knew who they were.  He liked a variety of cool bands, liked cool movies. He felt bad when your mom was hard on you and he stuck up for you. You kind of stuck up for each other. You almost tried to vaguely warn him when they started talking about marriage which seemed really fast, like within six months. 

-----

One day, after they were married, you and your mom had a huge blow-up and Joel came to your room bc at her request, he told her he'd try to talk to you for her. But he didn't. He just sat on the floor and looked around trying not to bother you. You kept your earbuds in and ignored him. 

He found your Rolling Stones Sticky Fingers vinyl and picked it up. He turned it over to read. He said "nice, where's your record player?"  You didn't have one at that point. That was your dad's, and you used to use his player. You hung onto that album but not for the music.

You finally took out your earbuds, feeling bad for him talking to himself.

Joel said, "my favorite Stones album is Some Girls."

"That's such a cliche," you grumbled without really looking at him, but the fact that you even said anything was a compliment. 

He asked, "Yeah, what's yours?"

You paused, then sheepishly admitted, "Some girls," and you both laughed.

------

You didn't live with them for long before you left for college, which was shortly after you caught him jacking off in the office that time, which neither of you ever acknowledged.

In college you started partying and dressing provocatively.  He followed you on Instagram your junior or senior year. At one point he accidentally liked then unliked a pic that was mostly cleavage. It made your heart skip a beat, and not in a creeped out way. But you didn't think much of it at the time, you had too much else going on in the boy world already.

You never lived at home again after leaving for college, but when you occasionally came home to visit, there started to be a different tension. It was like he was trying not to look at you. It wasn't that creepy -- You were both human and he wasn't "stepdad" long enough to ever feel like a father figure.  But there was tension, and occasionally you bickered over dumb stuff.

----

After graduation, you got a job and moved across town. Over time, there were a couple of guys you dated long enough to introduce them to Joel at family events.  He was polite but quiet with the first one.  The last one, you seemed to really like, and Joel was kind of cold with him. After you and that guy broke up, you started getting the urge to see Joel more often, which ultimately led to the time you went by when your Mom wasn't home and knowingly caught him jacking off.

Joel never would have made a move on you, so thank god for your advances. Even after following your instagram, he tried (and failed) not to look at you.

[two-white-butterflies]

you're losing me (three) | am. targaryen and j. velaryon

Description: The family reunion happens and you announce your engagement with Aemond. You realize that the Targaryens are an eccentric bunch. Rating: General Audiences Author's Note: Sorry for the Taylor erasure, I was just to lazy to come up with songs hehehe part two

You were wearing a white-satin dress that reached past your knees. It was a vintage Chanel '70 - that was certainly worth it's price. After a few hours of interviewing Aemond, you soon realized that their family was old money - coming from the very bowels of fortune, and Aemond was one of the few members that strived to be different - the few members of the family that the world knew.

You've spent a lot of time with the Old Money folks - you used to work in a country club down in Singapore. They were stingy - and stealth with their money. That observation was evident in the outfit that you wore today - nothing too flashy or bold.

"Are we ready?" he asks, and you turn to look at him. His bowtie was crooked - in a cute way. You smile, walking towards him and adjusting his bowtie. "We are." you reply, holding onto his hand while you walked down the marble staircase.

This was the life that you wanted as a teenager - a trophy wife to a rich man, not ever worrying about money or doing work. Your smile deepens, realizing that you looked amazing and sophisticated. It was a facade, but it was nice to pretend once in a while. He leads you out of the hotel room, the valet stops in front of you - flashing the paparazzi's a good view of the couple.

"I'm nervous," you admit, staring at his flashy car. Mingling with the rich was easy, but meeting the rich family of your fake boyfriend was going to be hard. A smile finds itself etched on his lips, opening the door for you to enter. "Just look pretty, my dear - that's all I want." he licked his lips, entering the car after you.

The car stopped in front of a mansion - heck, it actually looked more like castle. There were guests everywhere - and lights that illuminated the pathway that led to a zen garden. "You said family reunion." you quoted him and his lips turned into a thin line - telling you that he didn't expect this much guests either.

"My mother was quite a socialite back in the day - and all of these people were her friends." he explained, trying to regain his calm. He wasn't prepared to show you to his family's entire circle. He opened the compartment beside him - removing the emerald ring from it's box. "Now, remember the story - I proposed on the beach." he reminded and you nod.

A servant begins to open the doors to the car. "Now let's meet the vipers." he took a deep breath, plastering a fake smile on his face before exiting the vehicle and helping you do the same.

Jace wasn't expecting to see you today. The lady in white that managed to steal the heart of his uncle. He wanted to hate you, but he couldn't - not when you were already over him. God knows how many times he's listened to the songs that you made about him.

A million little times.

He's only felt alive when you were the one describing him - immortalizing him with your soft melodies. His jaw clenches as he watches his uncle's hands snake around your waist, his hands were in the places that he used to be in. Aemond whispers something in your ears, and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Isn't that (Your Name)?" his mother inquires while holding a glass of champagne. Rhaenyra's eyes widen, seeing the man beside you. "Oh, Jace." she cooed, pitying him in that very situation. "I'm alright, mom." he forced himself to smile - taking a lazy sip of his champagne. Jace couldn't understand why he was missing you.

He had everything he wanted - the respect of his fellow writers, all the money in the world, and freedom. Why was he missing the shackles that he fought to remove? You told him that you wanted to teach him what forever felt like - but why was forever falling away from his fingertips? Now, you are just one of the girls that he's loved before - not the one.

Aemond begins walking in his direction - a smug grin was on his face, but there was no way that his uncle knew. "Jacey," the man teased, one hand wrapped around you - and the other wrapped around a glass of merlot. His uncle was glowing.

"Uncle Almond," Jace responded using their childhood nicknames. "Have you met this lovely lady?" Aemond tilted his head, expecting you to smile warmly at his nephew - but you gawked at the sight of Jace. You didn't know that they were related. "Uncle?" she inquired, choking on air.

"I'm too young to be an uncle, huh?" he chuckled, staring at his nephew up and down. "I didn't expect you here, (Your Name)." Jace proceeded with caution, he stared deep into your eyes - searching for the warmth that used to fill it when you looked at him. "I could say the same," you answered, grip around Aemond's back tightening.

Something shimmery in your fingers catches his eyes. An engagement ring - green, like his step-grandmother's favorite color. "Congratulations on the engagement." he smiled, feeling happy for you. Marriage was all you ever wanted - all that you desired. He was glad that you were about to have it. "Thank you," you smile, bringing the ring closer for him to view it.

"When she's the one wrapped around your arms - you can't let her go." Aemond stared at your face - basking in your glory. Jace nodded, feeling bitterness creep up his throat. "I know the feeling." he paused, taking another sip of his champagne.

He should've fought the world to have you beside him. He should've took you dancing, bowling, skating - bought you flowers everyday, but he didn't. He was blind and entitled. He didn't know what he had until it was gone. "Well - excuse us, Jacey, I believe that dinner is about to begin." Aemond smiles, pulling you away from him.

(your first name): i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings. 3 new songs out at midnight. (courtesy of the 3 sleepless nights where I was talking to @officialaemondtargaryen)

23, 912 comments 2, 903,294 likes

sharterpack: It's so nice seeing mom with a man that allows her to post him. If Jace Velaryon has 0 haters, I am dead.

ynkitten009: ya'll the lyrics were leaked 💀

(your name)'s kitten fanbase ya'll i'm sobbing because y/n wrote "i wouldn't marry me either." for jace, but she wore "i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings." for aemond 😭 JACAERYS VELARYON YOU ARE ON THIN FUCKING ICE.

wandamaximoffdefender "i find myself running home to your sweet nothings." JACE, YOU LITERALLY GAVE HER NOTHING BFFR !

PaperRingsStan13 When he's no longer her Cornelia Street, Sweet Nothing, King of My Heart, Endgame, Cruel Summer, and Peace because someone else is her Lover, Dress, and Paper Rings.

Your phone wouldn't stop buzzing, all of your fans were tagging you in their recent twitter posts. A small chuckle escapes your mouth, and you place the phone on silent mode. "You're doing a good job," he compliments, helping you sit down on your chair. "So (Your Name), should I even call you that? I think sister is much better," Helaena makes her way beside you - you smile at her.

"I think sister is much better too." you answer, and her smile deepens. "I actually love your songs," she began to rant - taking note of all the lyrical devices you used in your songs. "I hyper-fixated on them one time, and I know all of the lyrics." she exaggerated - and Aemond places himself in the middle of the both of you.

"That's enough, Helaena." he whined, seeing that the crowds were beginning to make their way towards the dinner table. His father, Viserys, clinks his glass - earning everyone's attention. "I want to make a toast to my son, Aemond, who brought us his lovely fiancee." Viserys boasted, and everyone begins clapping.

"I want everyone to eat as much as they like - and drink as much as their wives let them." he joked, and the entire crowd laughs. "Our family will only grow bigger." he smiled and everyone settled into their chairs.

part four>>

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @itsabby15 @mxxny-lupin @joliettes @kemillyfreitas @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd

[gh9stlyy]

Burning desire

☆ warnings ☆

Fingering ~ public (?) ~ praise ~

summary

Your father is a famous, rich, director. He just finished a movie, so he planned a dinner for the whole cast. Y/n must sit next to James.

☆ ☆ ☆

"Y/n, honey, we have guests coming tonight.. and you look.. rough."

"Wow, thanks, mom." I smile.

"You know what I mean."

I run my hands through my hair, then pull myself out of bed.

"Thanks, sweetie." My mom walks away from my doorway.

It's about 3:30 pm, and I've been in bed all day.

I walk to my bathroom, and slide my clothes off.

I turn the shower on, and wait a moment for it to get warm, then hop in.

I shower quickly, which isn't normal for me. Once I get out the mirror actually isn't foggy.

My mom walks in.

"Mom!" I cover myself with my towel.

"Sorry honey. Just letting you know our guests are coming at six."

"Um, may I ask whos coming?"

"Well, some of the cast of your father's new movie."

She thinks for a moment, "I think James McAvoy-"

"James? He's coming?" I cut her off.

"Yes, he's coming."

I smile.

My mom laughs. "Don't even think about it,"

She walks out.

♡ ♡ ♡

It's 5:30 by the time I finish helping mom set up, and getting myself ready.

I made sure my outfit was hot, without making my dad mad.

Short, red, tight dress. Sleeveless, but I put on a jacket, to avoid pissing my dad off. I knew my dad would yell at me for wearing my red heels - that would look perfect with this dress - since they are quite tall, so I put on a low pair of mary janes.

I lean against the counter, playing with my nails, picking at the red polish.

"Quit picking, y/n." My mom demanded.

I laugh, putting my hands down.

"Are you nervous? You only do that when nervous."

"No, I'm just bored."

"Mhm." Her tone was as though she thought I was lying, which I was, but still, it's annoying.

"Ugh, mom, I'm not lying."

"You have a little thing for McAvoy, huh?"

"What? No.."

I had been on set with dad a few times, and I met James, and watched him act. He's extremely charming, it's hard not to have a thing for him.

She laughs. "C'mon, you can't lie to me, I know you do."

"It's okay, y/n."

"He's cute," I said, just to get her to leave me alone.

"Well, just to let you know... you'll be sitting next to him for dinner." She stated, walking out of the room, with a big grin.

"What?"

She ignores me.

"Shit," I whispered to myself.

♡ ♡ ♡

I watch the time, every minute feels like 10, and every time the vintage clock clicks I become more nervous.

Why am I sitting next to him? What did she mean? Was she messing with me? Who decided that?

The clock hits 6:02, and the doorbell rings.

"Y/n," my mom called, quickly walking to the door.

Don't know why, but it's a thing for me and my mom to greet the guests whenever my dad has one of these dinners. He has one every time the filming for one of his movies or shows is done.

I walk along with my mom, and she opens the door.

James stands next to another actor, laughing with him for a moment.

I put a smile on my face, and my mom welcomes them.

James makes eye contact with me when walking in, his smile becoming wider.

He's wearing a suit, pants, jacket, the jacket is over his shoulder, and waistcoat, all black, with a white shirt and red tie underneath. It's a silky material - other than the white undershirt - and it fits him perfectly.

"Oh, y/n, take James jacket."

He looks at me, smiling, and he hands me his jacket.

My mom talks to them for a moment, as I hang up James' jacket.

"Thank you, ma'am."

I walk alongside him.

"You look beautiful." He keeps his eyes forward, while I can't take my eyes off him.

"Thank you, you look very handsome."

He softly chuckles.

My mom guides them to the dining room.

My father says something once we get in there, but I tone it out, like everything he says.

"Please, sit down."

My father had placed names on where each person should go, and, of course, I'm next to James.

My mom is across from me, and my dad is across from James.

We all sit down.

My dad talks about the movie for a bit, while everyone places food on their plates.

I ignore everything he says, and just focus on the food.

After I finish placing what I want on my plate, my father, who must be done talking about himself, looks at me.

"Oh, y/n, take your jacket off, it's not appropriate." It's a black leather jacket, and now I can see how that would upset him.

"You're right, sorry."

I slide my jacket off, having it rest behind my back.

My fathers eyes drift to my bare shoulders, filled with rage.

He chuckles, then moves on, talking about himself and his accomplishments again. My mom joins, and starts telling stories about how fucking great her husband is.

James seems to be as uninterested as me.

He notices me looking at him, and we make eye contact.

I quickly look away, and continue eating

I see him smile out of the corner of my eye, he covers his smile up by taking a sip from a glass full of wine in front of him.

He leans towards me.

"Bored?" He whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

He chuckles quietly, then leans away, downing the rest of his drink in one sip.

"Oh, Mr. McAvoy, would you like more?" My mom asked, her hand already gripping the wine bottle.

"Yes, please." He puts his glass toward her. She fills it.

"Thank you, Mrs y/l/n."

"Of course."

"McAvoy,"

James looks at my father, "yes, sir?"

"That is a stunning suit, looks amazing on you."

My dads words make me cringe. He's kissing McAvoy's ass, for more attention, someone else to talk about how amazing he is. Or maybe he's trying to make himself feel good, I'm not sure which.

"Wow, thank you, sir."

"How expensive?"

I can't quite tell what he's trying to do at this point.

"Uh, I think... two hundred or something like that."

"What was that? Sorry, your accent is so thick, isn't it?" My father looks at the rest of the cast while he asked, 'Isn't it?'

I cringe once again.

James chuckles, his hand gripping the wine glass. His veins become much more noticeable.

"Two hundred, sir."

"Ahh, lot to spend on a suit, isn't it?"

He's definitely not dick riding, he does this when jealous. Must be because of how me and mom look at James.

He's mad at James.

James takes a sip of his wine, a large one.

"I don't think so."

"I think I'd know better than you, McAvoy." My dad laughed.

My mom holds onto my father's shoulder, "oh quit it." She said, laughing.

"Sorry Mr. McAvoy, he's just teasing."

James smiles, taking another sip of his drink.

My father is probably gripping onto my mother's leg, a thought that makes me wanna kill myself. He thinks every man wants me and my mom.

While my father starts talking to one of the other guests, I lean toward James, and he leans toward me a little.

"Sorry, he's a dick sometimes," I whispered.

He smiles.

"It's alright, love." He whispered back, leaning away.

I lean back into my seat, gripping my thigh.

James moves his chair towards me a little more. I look at him, and we make eye contact. His beautiful blue eyes make me weak.

He breaks eye contact, his eyes drifting down to my breasts for a moment. He looks forward, and quietly laughs.

He takes another sip, this time finishing his drink. His hand once again is gripping the glass.

He leans towards me.

"Forgive me, y/n, I can't take my eyes off you." He softly breathes against my skin, his eyes fixated on me, his eyebrows furrowed.

I smile, "don't worry about it, McAvoy."

He sighs with relief, smiling, then leans away.

His eyes remain on me.

"McAvoy,"

His eyes leave me and stop on my father.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

James' tongue runs along his bottom lip.

"Nothing, sir."

"Well-"

My mom slightly pushes against my father.

"Nevermind."

My fathers facial expression brings me joy. He's pissed, and he can't do anything about it.

My mother fills James' cup without him asking.

He smiles at her, then thanks her.

James keeps his eyes on my father, since he's talking, but I don't think he's listening.

James' hand moves to my thigh, and my heart skips a beat.

He grips my skin. To avoid making noise, I take a long sip of the water glass in front of me, since I'm not allowed to have alcohol.

James holds back his smile, still looking at my father.

My father starts a conversation with the man next to him, so James leans toward me.

"May I?"

I nod. He quickly leans away, and his hand slides up my dress.

I hadn't put shorts on, so all that's underneath is my panties.

James' finger runs along my underwear, then moves toward my clit.

I take a deep breath, and tremble while I exhale. James doesn't look at me.

His finger starts to very gently rub my clit.

I grip his hand, and he leans toward me, since my father is still distracted.

"Can you be quiet for me, darling?"

I nod, swallowing my spit.

"Good." He leans away, then pushes down, hard, while starting to rub me faster.

I dig my nails into his skin.

My heart is racing. What if someone notices, or what if I make a noise or face or something?

My dad turns to me, and my heart drops.

"Y/n, why don't you tell our guests your big news?"

Now he's using me for the praise, show them how 'great' of a daughter I am.

"Well... I-I got into Harvard."

My father smiles.

I pray that he doesn't ask me any more questions. I'm afraid to open my mouth.

"Isn't that amazing?"

James smiles at me, and I tone out everything everyone says to me. Well, not me, they all seem to tell my father how great that is, and ask how great he must feel about it.

"McAvoy."

James looks away from me, and to my father.

"Yes?"

"Isn't that amazing?"

"Of course."

James pulls his finger off my clit. Then he grabs my panties.

He slowly pulls them down my thighs, which takes a bit since he's only using one hand.

He pushes them down to my ankles.

"So, Mr. McAvoy, since you're the lead, are you excited about the movie?" My mom asked. James slowly slides his finger down my slit.

"Yes, very."

"Hope my husband wasn't too rough on ya," my mom joked.

James smiles, "no, he's great."

He slowly puts his finger in me, not very far before he takes it back out and teases me by rubbing around my hole.

"He's very good at his job, ma'am." James added.

"Oh, thanks, buddy."

James swallows. It seems like my father really gets on his nerves.

He finally slides his finger inside me, and I grip my thigh.

"Y'know, I think McAvoy might win me some more awards for his performance."

My mom smiles at James.

"I'm sure he will." One of the other guests said.

James smiles widely.

"I don't know, maybe." He said, picking his pace up.

"Y/n, you watched him act, he's brilliant isn't he?"

"Yes,"

My response puts a smile on my father's face. It was quiet, like I didn't wanna be there. I think it made him think I'm uninterested in James.

"Well, I should say everyone was amazing."

James slides another finger in me, and I exhale.

James leans towards me.

"Be silent for me, okay?" He doesn't lean away after he finishes talking, and he places a finger against my clit.

I take a deep breath.

"Good girl," he whispered, then he leans away.

He rubs me perfectly.

James' eyes are on me, and my father notices once he's done talking.

His mood changes again. He seemed relaxed, now he seems pissed again.

James' eyes drift away from me, and he takes a sip of his drink, which gets refilled every time he finishes.

Everyone has almost finished eating at this point, "well, I'll take everyone's plates." My mom said with a smile.

She whispered something to dad, then got up and started taking everyone's plates.

"McAvoy, you've barely eaten," my father stated.

"Just.. not very hungry, sir," James answered.

"Huh,"

"Well, you sure like that wine."

James' jaw clenches, and he rubs me harder.

"Yeah, sure." He responded.

My father laughs.

The man next to my father says something to him, and it starts another conversation.

I feel myself getting close, and I softly grip James hand.

He leans towards me, keeping his eyes on my father.

"Something wrong?" He asked, whispering.

"I'm... I'm close."

He smiles.

"Do you need me to stop? Or do you wanna finish?"

"Don't stop, please."

James softly chuckles.

My father looks at James, and he quickly leans away from me.

"What are you two talking about? Hm?" My dad asked.

"Nothing, sir."

"Well, I'm quite sure it's something."

My mom walks back into the room and sits down.

"What's something, honey?"

My heart pounds out of my chest.

"Y/n and James were talking to each other, just wanted to know about what."

"Oh,"

"It was nothing, promise." James reassured.

My mom gives my dad a look, telling him to let it go.

"Alright then."

I'm about to climax, and James picks up his pace, which sends me over the edge.

I release onto James' fingers, clenching his hand.

I pull his hand away once I finish. He holds back a smile.

He slowly pulls his hand onto the counter, wiping it off on his napkin, then places it back on my thigh, rubbing it.

♡ ♡ ♡

We're finally wrapping it up, after about another 20 long minutes. My dad glared at me and James most of the time.

"Well, we loved having all of you." My mom said, standing up.

Everyone else stands up, and James stands up last, his hands crossed in front of him.

"Y/n, would you mind grabbing my coat?" James asked.

He smiles at me, and I smile back.

I quickly walk towards the closet, grabbing his jacket and quickly walking back. I hand it to him.

"Thank you, darling."

"Mhm."

He ties it around his waist.

My eyes widen once it hits me, why he wanted his jacket right away.

I look at him, and he holds back a laugh, a wide smile on his face. I smile back.

Once my dad finishes thanking everyone, my mom and I guide everyone out.

My mom opens the door for everyone.

James stops, "Excuse me, miss y/l/n, may y/n show me to your bathroom?"

"Oh, of course."

My heart pounds, and I walk James toward the bathroom.

He makes sure nobody can see, then guides me into the bathroom, his hands on my hips.

He places his lips on mine, softly kissing me. I place my hands on his back.

He leans away for a moment.

"I need you, y/n,"

He grabs one of my hands, placing it onto his bulge.

I gasp. "James, we can't," I whispered.

"I know,"

I softly rub him, and he groans, closing his eyes.

"Fuck," he pulls me off him.

"Another time, y/n, I promise."

He opens the door, and we walk out together.

I walk ahead of him, then open the front door. My mom must have gone and found my dad.

He looks towards the dining room, then pulls me into a quick kiss.

He closes the door behind him.

"Y/n?" My mom called.

"Coming!" I speed walk towards the dining room, straightening out my dress.

"Yes?" I asked.

My dad glares at me.

"We need to talk." He said.

Fuck.

[my-own-walker]

On The Other Line - Epilogue

note: sorry this took so fucking long i literally forgot about it lmao. many thanks to the anon that reminded me.

summary: the happy happy ending, marital bliss and such

warnings: none, just like fluffy stuff

+++

The vanity mirror in front of me lit up my face unforgivingly. I sat staring at my reflection, all too critical of the person staring back at me. Sighing, I picked up my moisturizer and got to work. An attempt to not feel so gross.

It had been years since Colin and I made the promise to each other to be together. 6, actually. 6 years ago to the day.

The date held a certain significance to both of us. Exactly two years after Colin's plea for us to give things a try behind the library, we got married. It was a small ceremony in the Easttown Fire Hall, the cheapest venue. The reception began as soon as we said our 'I do's.' We cleared out the makeshift 'altar' and it became our dance floor.

Small, yes, but also beautiful. I wore a vintage gown. A yellowing babydoll fit floor-length dress with deteriorating lace detailing and sheer fabric sleeves. It was my grandmother's. Colin had only proposed a few months prior. He was so excited to marry me, we rushed the whole ceremony. Looking back, I wouldn't have it any other way.

He wore a deep blue suit. He stood so stiffly at the altar it was as if he was in the police academy again. He cried as he said his vows. We danced all night in mutual bliss, surrounded by our closest family and friends. My Uncle Nick cried, too, when he made his speech, harkening back to the night we first met in his bar. It made him happy to take ownership of the beginning of our relationship like that.

Our first dance was to 'Waterloo Sunset,' by The Kinks. I didn't want anything sappy. Colin cried regardless.

Our tradition became going on a date every year on our anniversary as if we were only first dating again. We owned a house together, yet he'd still show up at the front door and ring the bell, flowers in hand like he was picking me up for our first date. He'd go visit his mom for the afternoon and get ready there, all so he could make things seem authentic. I loved how fresh it made things feel.

Only this year, I actually had butterflies. Not first date jitters, of course. No, this year I had a secret. One I was going to tell Colin about at dinner, or whenever it felt natural, I guess. Putting the brush down, finally satisfied with my work, I opened the bedroom closet to see a dress with a note attached to it.

'I saw this and thought of you. I can't wait to see you tonight. Love, Colin.'

I giggled to myself at his terrible handwriting. I unpinned the paper and brought it to the box I kept all of Colin's handwritten notes in. The dress was a precious brown floral mini-dress with a ruched chest and a white Peter Pan collar. There were puff sleeves and a tie in the back. It was exactly something I'd wear. My heart swelled when I noticed the price tag on the sleeve (the actual price hastily scribbled over by Colin) and saw it was from my favorite vintage store in town.

I slipped it on, softly praying it would fit, and to my surprise, it zipped up with no issue. A wave of nerves and nausea hit me. I doubled over slightly, scared I'd ruin the dress, trying to let it pass.

The doorbell rang so I forced myself to straighten up, slip on some shoes, and meet my 'date' at the door. I turned the knob and saw Colin standing on the step, wearing a brown shirt that matched the color of my dress perfectly under a suit jacket. His tie was knotted pristinely, signaling to me that it was his mother's handiwork. He had a bunch of daisies in his hand, my favorite type of flower.

'Holy shit,' he breathed, drinking me in.

'Oh shut up,' I giggled, feeling shy like I was a teenager all over again.

'That thing looks fuckin' awesome on you,' he grinned. 'I did a good job.'

'Ever the humble man, Zabel,' I quipped.

'Well, Mrs. Zabel, shall we?' he suggested, extending his hand to guide me out of the door. We walked arm-in-arm to the car, daisies now in my hand. He was sure to open the door for me demonstratively, further playing up the chivalry.

The restaurant he picked this year was a pretty good distance from home. I wasn't surprised to see it was an Italian place when we arrived. His favorite. The meal went well. It was a place we'd never tried before but we both ended up loving it.

Shortly before the dessert menus came, Colin produced a small box from his jacket pocket along with a handwritten letter.

'Colin, you didn't have to do that,' I whined.

'Uh-huh, yes I did,' he smirked. 'I don't wanna hear none of that shit, you're my wife and I want to spoil you.' He slid the box over the table to me and gestured with his hand for me to open it. I looked down and weighed the object in my hands.

I looked up at him, gazing through the strands of hair that had fallen in front of my eyes disapprovingly, knowing he spent all too much on an insignificant 4th wedding anniversary. I opened the tiny black velvet box to reveal a pair of dainty gold dangly earrings. One a sun, one a moon, each one possessing both of our birthstones.

'These are beautiful, my gosh,' I breathed, getting all choked up. 'I didn't get you anything nearly as nice!'

'You didn't have to get me anything, gorgeous,' he replied with a smile.

I took the earrings out of the box and put them on, then took a moment to admire how they looked on me using my phone's camera. I grabbed the letter off the table and slipped it into my purse for safekeeping.

'If I read that here I'll probably cry so embarrassingly we'll never be allowed back,' I laughed. 'Now my gift to you.' My stomach lurched at the thought. I couldn't exactly pin down why it made me so nervous to tell him my secret.

Colin took the card out of my hand and opened it. It was a regular anniversary card, but I made a very intentional writing error.

'The 3 of us have an amazing year ahead?' Colin read aloud.

'Mm-hmm,' I nodded, smirking.

'Who's the third?' he laughed, trying to make fun of my mistake. I didn't reply. I just sat there smiling until I saw the look of understanding wash over his face. 'No...'

'Yes,' I grinned.

'You're pregnant?!' he exclaimed, as calmly as he could, given we were in a public setting. I nodded. 'How long have you known?' His words came out in a breathy whisper. Tears brimmed in his eyes. He couldn't contain his smile.

'Just a couple of weeks. I figured it could wait until today.'

He sprung out of his seat and came over to the other side of the table, taking me by my hands to pull me to my feet.

'We're gonna have a baby,' he declared as he wrapped me in a tight embrace. 'I'm gonna be a dad.'

He pulled away, holding me at arm's length, looking at me with sparkling joy in his deep brown eyes. I had never seen a smile so big on his face. I was at a loss for words. His utter delight with the news told me everything I needed to know about our future.

+++

The happy ending Colin deserved :') I'm literally so sorry I forgot about this story idk what happened lmao. Thanks again to the anon that reminded me and thanks to all of you for your continued patience!

[eddiesgorlie]

He’s So Lana Pt.2

Read part one here!

Warnings: None!

Word count: 2.7k

Comment to be tagged in Pt.3! Follow me on Tiktok @Epresleyforprexy

The clock ticked so slowly as I waited to close the shop. I read and reread Austins text a million times and it never failed to make me smile and butterflies swarm my tummy. Just those simple words “Dinner at my place at eight?” I kept running it through my head and counting down the seconds. The clock ticked six and I closed the shop in record time, forgetting about sweeping and shutting the computer down. I tossed my bag into the passenger seat of my VW bug and jumped in the front seat, the radio blaring The Beatles as soon as I turned the key.

I didn’t make it home until 6:30 and after calculating, Austins house was a 30 minute drive with traffic so I only had an hour. I only had an hour to pick out an outfit and do my makeup and hair. I quickly ran to my closet and after what seemed to be throwing every single article of clothing on my floor I decided on my all time favorite, holy grail vintage clothing piece, my 70’s Gunne Sax white v-neck midi dress. It had beautiful little purple lavender flowers on it, crystal buttons and lace straps and I matched it with a purple cardigan. I decided to do my hair and makeup first to protect the dress from any possible makeup spills.

I put my hair up in a very loose high ponytail and just put on light pink eyeshadow, mascara and a wine colored lipstick. I looked at the clock to see I had 10 minutes until I had to leave so I quickly took the dress out of its garment bag and pulled it on, matching it with purple Candies heels. I had just enough time to grab a basket and run out to my garden to put together a harvest basket for him. Mom always told me to never show up to a hosts home empty handed.

I put a couple oranges and apples in the basket and a tomato. I clipped some flowers and herbs and added them to the basket and went back inside. I grabbed a jar of blackberry jam and a jar of wine mustard I made the other day. I finished it off by wrapping a fresh loaf of zucchini bread in a cloth and laying it in the basket.

I grabbed my patchwork purse and the basket and ran out of the door. Quickly running back in once I realized I forgot my keys… and to lock the door.

I was incredibly nervous the entire drive. Would he not like my outfit? Or my car? Or not like me? He had only met me for a short time while I was working but what if really getting to know me scared him away like many before him. Dates always had me nervous after my last boyfriend. He was a gentleman and so nice during the first few months but after a while, he became cruel and violent. I have the scars to prove it.

My GPS told me to take a right which a came to a complete stop as I looked at the road to my right. It was gravel and wooded all around. I sighed and hoped the gravel wouldn’t destroy my 1967 VW. I drove slowly and continued to monitor my GPS when it told me the destination was on my left. I didn’t see anything so I drove a little further until a large farmhouse came into view. I parked, grabbed the basket and my purse and walked up to the door, knocking twice before stepping back.

I heard some movement in the house and could see a figure through the stained glass window. The door opened and there he was, wearing a blue apron over his dark jeans and blue denim-like long sleeve button up. “Hi.” I said. “Hey, come on in.” He smiled. I nodded and walked in the house. “Here you go. Thank you for inviting me over.” I smiled, handing him the basket. “Oh of course. You didn’t have to bring anything.” He said, moving somethings around to look at all the items in the basket. “My mom always told me to never arrive at someone’s home empty handed. And its just some things from my garden or made from things from my garden.” I smiled. “I’ve never gotten something this thoughtful.” He smiled. “I hope you like everything.” I said. “I know I will. Come on in, make yourself at home. Dinner is almost done.” He said. I followed him into the kitchen and sat at one of the barstools and watched him cook.

“I have never been on a date with a guy that can cook.” I smiled. “Really? I think more people should try to learn to cook, I really enjoy it.” He said. “I’m definitely more of a baker than chef but I know enough to survive.” I laughed. “Baking is an entire new territory I am yet to conquer.” He said. “What’s your favorite thing to cook?” I asked. “Well, my comfort food is just a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but I really enjoy making sourdough grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup.” He said. “Is that what you’re making now?” I asked. “Yeah, is that alright? I didn’t realize how low I was on ingredients until I started cooking.” He laughed. “That sounds wonderful.” I smiled.

He grabbed some cream from the fridge and added it to the soup. “I told you about my family, I’d love to hear about yours.” I said. “Well, I have an older sister, she moved states a couple of years ago and my dad still lives here.” He said. “Have you always lived here in California?” I asked. “Yep, I lived in New York for a little while I was on broadway but I missed this place more than anything.” He said. “So a Cali boy through and through. Do you surf?” I asked. “I tried a couple times but was never successful. I want to try again sometime.” He said. “It’s a lot of fun. My dad taught me.” I said. “I have an extra board, if you want I can take you out sometime and teach you! Its like riding a bike.” I smiled. “I’d really like that.” He said. “You’re going to love it. Maybe one of the times, I can bring my dad so you can learn from the master himself. He hasn’t been out on the water since mom passed so I think it’d be great for him.” I said. “Sorry, that was weird.” I said with a nervous laugh. “No, I think that would be a really great time.” He smiled.

I nodded. After that there was an awkward pause. Damnit, I blew it. I got too comfortable and blew it. “When did you lose your mom?” He asked quietly. “When I was 24, so almost 3 years ago.” I said. He nodded. “When did you lose yours?” I asked. He looked up with a confused and sad look. “How’d you know?” He asked. “I can just tell, there’s apart of you thats lost, searching for something.” I said. “I was 23.” He said. I could tell they were close and that it was a fragile subject for him. “Look at us, two half orphans.” I said, reaching over the counter and stroking his hand.

He took the grilled cheese off of the stove and put them on plates and grabbed bowls for the soup. “Do you have pets?” I asked. “I don’t. I really want a dog though.” He said. “Do you like cats?” I asked. “You know, I’ve never had a pet cat before.” He said. “I have cats. They are the lights of my life.” I laughed. “Cats.. plural?” He laughed. “Yep. I have well um…” I sighed. “2?” He asked. I shook my head. “4?” He asked. “5?” I shook my head. “Oh my. 6?” He laughed. “Close enough. 6 are mine and one just lives with me.” I laughed. “Tell me, how’d you get all of these cats?” He asked. “Well, I found Moe, Larry and Curly on the side of the highway in a bag when they were kittens, Lieutenant Dan showed up in my backyard and he was missing his front paws, Moe ended up being a girl and two kittens, Mercury and Styles and the one that lives with me was my moms cat, she’s a Maine coon named Zeus and weighs 25 pounds.” I said, holding back my laughter. “Oh my, thats a lot of cats.” He said, joining in on my laughter. “I’ll have to meet these cats. But first, is that a cat scratch on your arm?” He asked, referring to the vertical scar on my wrist. “Oh no no, they aren’t aggressive!” I reassured. He smiled.

He spooned the soup into two bowls and put the grilled cheese’s on plates. He grabbed silverware and napkins and set a bowl in front of me, the other on the placemat next to me. “So how’d you get into the record business?” He asked as he sat next to me. “So my parents had a college fund set aside for me, it was enough to go to any school I wanted and get any degree I wanted but of course, me being me, I took all the money and bought the building that is now Lucy In The Sky. My parents of course weren’t to happy about that and thought it’d would be better if I moved out so I moved in with my boyfriend at the time, he was horrible so that pushed me to spend most of my time working on remodeling the shop and hunting for cheap records to buy to get started. It was a journey but now somehow I am the owner of the most successful used record store in California.” I laughed. “That’s amazing. Did your parents ever get over it?” He asked. “I don’t think completely but we became closer again a couple years ago. I think my dad is proud now.” I said. “He should be. You built that all yourself.” He said. “With his money.” I laughed. “But if you didn’t put the work it, money or no money it wouldn’t have mattered.” He said. “I guess you have a point.” I smiled. I dipped the grilled cheese in the soup and took a bite. “Holy shit, that’s amazing.” I said, covering my mouth as I ate. “I’m glad you like it.” Austin said. “Like it? Like it?? This is like death row final meal choice quality!” I said, taking another bite. “Oh it gets better each bite.” I said.

“Tell me, what’d you think of Lana?” I asked. “I honestly don’t know how I’ve gone this long without listening to her.” He said. “Favorite song on the album?” I asked. “Born to die and National Anthem had really nice feels to them but Video Games was an out of body experience.” He said. “That is literally the only way to describe Video Games. That song got me through a lot.” I smiled. “I can tell her music means a lot to you.” He said. “It really does. In the entire shop, she is the only artist we sell new vinyl of.” I said. “I can see why. Her music is lovely. It draws you in like a siren’s song.” He said. “You have a way with words, Austin. Do you write?” I asked. “Thank you. I try to journal everyday but I’ve never written anything serious before.” He said. “You really should. You have the words of a poet.” I said. “Do you write?” He asked. “Yeah, its the only way I can express myself when I’ve feeling stressed or sad, or even happy.” I said. “Thats so beautiful.” He smiled.

We spent the next half hour talking about his upcoming Elvis role along with many other things. “How about we go in the living room and listen to some music?” He asked. “I’d love to but at least let me help with the dishes first.” I said. “Nope, I simply can not allow such a beautiful woman help clean up.” He smiled as he held his hand out. I blushed as I grabbed his hand and we walked into the living room. “Oh no way you have a Rega!” I squealed as I took in his record player and stereo system. “Is that a good one? I picked it up at a place downtown. Your shop doesn’t have record players, right?” He asked. “Its a great one, I’d definitely own one if I could afford it. I’m more of an audio technica gal. And nope, we don’t. Not enough profit.” I said. “Gotcha.” He said. “Do you mind if I?” I asked. “Not at all, go crazy.” He said.

I got down on my knees and turned the receiver on and picked up a record from his shelf. I grabbed Abbey Road. “A classic.” He smiled. “Yes it is.” I said as placed it on the turntable and placed the tone arm down on She Came In Through The Bathroom Window. I let my body flow and move to the music, smiling at Austin as I turned. I reached my hand out to him. “I’m not much of a dancer.” He laughed. “Well we better fix that, soon to be Mr. Presley.” I said as I pulled him up.

I guided him in the movements through the rest of the song. We laughed as he spun me and I came crashing into his chest. I wrapped my arms around his torso as we rocked back and fourth. People would say we honestly looked insane if they say us. I was just happy.

We sat down on the couch as Golden Slumbers came on and I sat down next to him, a slight distance between us as I closed my eyes swayed. “Sleep pretty darlin’ do not cry.” I mouthed. “My mom sang this to me as a lullaby.” I smiled. “Thats beautiful.” He said. I watched as he pretended to yawn and then laid his arm over my shoulders. I leaned into him a little as I tried not to laugh. “That was so lame.” I giggled. “It really was. That was my go to move as a teenager.” He said laughing. I comfortably laid on his chest until the end of the album. “Lets see what else ya’ got.” I smiled as I stood up and went back over to his albums. I put Abbey road back into its sleeve and put it away. “Got any Pink Floyd?” I asked. “I don’t think so.” He said. “Darn, you have a great collection beside the missing Floyd.” I said. “I’d love to see your collection sometime.” He said. “You’ve seen it.” I said. “Hm?” He asked. “The store is my collection. If I have something I want to listen to, I grab it from the store and then put it back on sale.” I said. “That’s actually really smart.” He smiled. “I know, right?” I laughed.

I pulled a record from the shelf and set it on the turntable. The sounds of Lana Del Rey’s Video Games came over the speakers. I sat back down next to him and leaned on his shoulder. I looked up at him, his eyes were closed and lips parted as he listened to the song. “She’s ethereal, isn’t she.” I smiled. “I think you’re ethereal.” He said, looking down at me. I blinked for a moment as I took in his words. I sat up, my legs straddling his. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. I looked down as I blushed. His hand came up and lifted my chin to look at him. “Don’t get shy on me.” He said. He pushed my hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. My heart took over as I flew forward and placed a heavy kiss on his lips. His hands buried in my hair and pulled me impossibly closer as my heart felt as though it was beating out of my chest. His thumb brushed against my bottom lip once I pulled away. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He smiled. “Not bad yourself.” I smiled.

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[lovelytsunoda]

happiness for beginners // kyle kirkwood

summary: when her fathers death brings y/n back home to jupiter, florida, the last person she wanted to see was her highschool ex-boyfriend: kyle kirkwood, who once pushed her aside in favour of his racing career. as she tried to navigate her grief and pick up the pieces of her life, she wonders if maybe she never stopped loving kyle.

pairing: kyle kirkwood x ex-girlfriend!female reader

warnings: death of a parent, consumption of alcohol, breif mention of being cheated on (not by kyle) . second chance romance, talk of dropping out of university and past sexual activities.

it’s wasn’t supposed to end like this. he should have had another thirty years.

should have seen his eldest daughter get married, meet his grandchildren.but instead, life said ‘fuck you’ and struck her father down at the ripe age of fifty nine.

a heart attack, her mother had said over the phone when she found out. when she booked the first flight back to miami and a train ticket to jupiter. a small town filled with a lot of memories, some good, many bad.

she hated funerals, but never thought she’d be organizing one for someone she cared about this soon. the room was filled with flowers (he would have hated those, the pollen made him sneeze), a classic rock song about grief and loss playing overhead. she was dressed in all black, a call back to the dress she wore for her middle school graduation. it shouldn’t have still fit, although her boobs filled it out a lot better now.

“i need some air.” she looked at her sister shakily, mascara stains under her eyes. “tell mom where I went when she comes back this way.”

she didn't wait for her sister to say more, grabbing a can of smirnoff ice from the cooler as she left the stately country house that had been turned into a homely funeral parlour. she'd already had far too much to drink, numbing her feelings being the only thing allowing her to make it through the day.

unlike most girls her age, y/n had in incredible and loving relationship with her father. when she moved away for university, her father was always coming up with foolish reasons to go to charleston and see her. he taught her everything she knew, valuable life skills that would make sure she never needed to depend on a man if she didn't want to.

and now he was gone. he would never get to walk her down the aisle, or look at her future husband and say 'you picked a good one, kid'.

in the distance she saw a reception late comer, a bouquet of calla lilies in hand as he walked up the sprawling drive, packed to the brim with cars new and old: her father's classic car club had lead the procession, a fleet of cars from the fifties to seventies driving through jupiter at high noon, the vintage hearse in the middle of the fray.

kyle knew he shouldn't be there.

he hadn't seen y/n in five years, not since he'd fucked up so massively that he knew she was right for never wanting to speak to him again. but when lorraine y/l/n had called him mere days prior and said she didn't think her daughter was coping and could use a familiar face, he knew he couldn't just do nothing.

"kyle? what the fuck are you doing here?" the sight of her ex-boyfriend walking up the home's front steps was almost enough to sober her up, her words still coming out with a slight slur as she looked at the indycar driver. "don't you have a race to go win?"

"your mom called. thought you could use a friend."

"you're right. except all my friends hate me, and the ones who don't don't live in jupiter any more." she whined, downing another large swig of her cooler. "you shouldn't be here. not after what you did. it was prom night, kyle. you left me standing on the front step, dressed to the nines in a dress i had picked out just for you, waiting hours until my mom called your mom and found out that you had picked an indycar test over me."

pain rippled through kyle's veins at the way her voice broke. y/n hd been more than understanding about his racing career and the demands of being a modern athlete, because she had grown up with one. her younger sister was the youngest olympic swimmer in america, and she had never felt like she measured up, even after she got into usc charleston. but what he had done on prom night was unforgiveable. he just wished she had let him tell her the full story all those years ago, when she called everything off the day she packed up her dad's truck and left.

"you're drunk, y/n. how much have you had to drink today?" kyle's voice was stern, but still gentle as he tried to pry the can from his former girlfriend's hands. "i think you've had enough."

“you can’t tell me what to do, kirkwood. that can is the one thing keeping me from falling into complete and utter despair. I have nothing left, kyle!” she made a grab for the can, losing her balance and sprawling out over kyles lap.

kyle sighed, trying to help her sit up. “okay, it’s time to get you home.”

“kyle, is that you?”

“hi, lorraine.” kyle frowned as y/n got up and staggered towards the railing, promptly vomiting into the bushes. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“thank you.” lorraine smiled sadly, gently readying a hand on her daughters back. when her youngest daughter had explained that y/n had left to get some air, lorraine knew she needed to check on her. “she’s not coping, kyle. you know how close she and nick were.”

“I can hear you, and I don’t need him!” y/n spat, swatting at her moms hand. “I’m fine.”

lorraine’s voice was stern as she looked her daughter in the eye. “no you aren’t, let kyle drive you home.”

she could think of few things she wanted less than to be in a car with the man who broke her fragile, teenage heart. frankly, she’d rather drunkenly stumble through the streets of jupiter and let everybody gawk at her.

but kyle was firm with his grip as he guided her down the front steps, her legs shaky in her black pumps as he guided her towards his freakishly expensive car. she felt all the fight leave her body as kyle helped her into the passenger seat, her body noticeably falling limp.

“remind me never to drink this much again.” she whined, head slumping against the window as kyle started the car.

“it’s not like you’d listen to me anyways. get some rest, you aren’t well.”

she slept for most of the car ride, but it was an uneasy sleep, drifting in and out of memories as kyle pulled in front of the farmhouse. the driver helped her inside, guiding her out of her leather jacket and heels. she stumbled to the bathroom, collapsing in front of the bathtub before she started to heave.

kyle knelt behind her, gently pulling her hair away from her face. “it’s okay, you’re okay. let it out.”

“I can’t breathe.” she coughed out in between lurches of her stomach. “the dress is too tight.”

“it’s okay.” kyle soothed, gently undoing the zipper and peeling the fabric away from her burning skin. just the act of running his hands over her backs was conjuring memories for both of them.

memories of the last time kyle had touched her like that: their naked bodies tangled in sheets, her fingernails leaving deep divots in his shoulders, his lips on the column of her throat, hands clutching her back as she rode him.

“is this better, sweetheart?” he shook his head, trying to forget. he’d been trying to forget for five years now.

“yeah. can I have some space? some fresh clothes, maybe? my room is where it’s always been.”

kyle moved to kiss her forehead, pausing with his lips halfway to her hair. he didn’t get to do things like that anymore. he lost that right five years ago.

“yeah, I’ll be right back.”

while kyle was gone, she tried to recollect herself. the stinging scent of vomit that she tried to wash down the drain was sobering.

the fact that kyle kirkwood was in her house even more so.

she got to her feet, stumbling the the counter where she downed three capfuls of mouthwash, never feeling like it was quite enough as she rinsed her mouth and spat the spearmint liquid into the sink.

holding the front of her dress in place, she ascended the carpeted stair case, wondering what was taking kyle so long. the door to the master bedroom was closed; her mom had been sleeping in the guest room, unable to even consider sleeping in the king bed without nick.

kyle stood in the middle of her bedroom, clutching a ratty t shirt in his hands. she recognized it, of course. the mauve hurley shirt had been his.

“you’ve kept it all this time?”

“of course I did. it doesn’t smell like you any more, though. just the back of my closet.” she smiled sadly, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m sure you’re wondering why all these boxes are here. I’m coming home. temporarily.”

“I thought you loved it in carolina.” he frowned, helping her out of her dress. it was all he could do not to stare at the lacy black lingerie she wore, closing his eyes as she slipped out of the bra.

he was not an asshole, and he could definitely resist watching his ex undress.

at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“I moved in with someone I considered a very close friend. eventually, my boyfriend brad moved in with us. well, it turns out that my ex-friend was fucking brad. I needed to get out of the house, I was staying in a motel until mom called. and now I’m back here.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you. you didn’t deserve that.” kyle frowned, pulling her in for a hug. she notched her arms under his, pressing up on her toes and allowing her head to slot between his neck and shoulder.

it was comforting and warm; familiar.

“I don’t know what to do, kyle. truth be told, I don’t even like what I’m studying any more. I want to drop out.”

“let’s talk about this in the morning. when you’re sober.” he tried to soothe her, guiding her towards the bed “get some rest.” he insisted, laying her down and pulling the blankets over her shoulders. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

the andretti driver turned to leave, stopping in his tracks when he felt her slender fingers wrap around his wrist.

“stay” she insisted, voice shaky. “I don’t want to be alone. I can’t stand it.”

kyle frowned, looking at the small body wrapped in blankets. he had never seen her this fragile before. this broken.

“of course, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere.” he slipped out of his suit jacket and shoes, quietly sliding under the covers and pulling her into his arms, trying not to think about the fact that she was wearing his shirt and and nothing else.

don’t be a douchebag, kyle, he kept telling himself.

he allowed himself one luxury, his lips dropping down tot he crown of her head, just barely kissing her skin. a reassurance that everything would be okay.

the next morning, kyles side of the bed was empty, the lingering smell of his cologne being the only indicator that he was ever there. y/n’s head was pounding as she shakily got to her feet, grabbing clothes from the top of her laundry basket, too lazy and miserable to do much more than grab clean panties from her drawer.

kyle was in the kitchen, the smell of fresh eggs permeating the air. the smell would have been enough to set off her nausea again if there had been anything in her stomach to regurgitate. she’d always hated the smell of egg.

“why the fuck are you still here?”

“ah, that’s the y/n i remember!” kyle laughed, placing a glass on the kitchen island as she sat down. “drink. it’s good for you.”

she frowned at the green sludge in the pint glass before looking back at her ex. “like hell I will. i would rather jump off splash mountain.”

“it’ll make you feel better.”

“no it won’t. why are you so chipper? you know what, don’t answer that. I’m still mad at you.” she felt childish for pouting and refusing the hangover cure, but the fact of the matter was that her anger over the death of a past relationship was the only thing holding her together.

if she stopped being mad at kyle, she’d have to feel her feelings about her dad, and that didn’t seem like a good option.

“it’s been five years, y/n.” kyle sighed, switching off the gas stove. “why are you still holding on? you never even let me explain.”

“five years is forever, kyle. a whole goddamn lifetime. I’m not even the same person I was when we were together.”

“will you just let me explain?”

she sighed, leaning forwards and slumping against the counter, fingertips rubbing at her temples. “fine. but only because it stops me from thinking about everything.”

“i moved hell and high water to get back in time for prom, y/n. i had everything timed perfectly until the weather delayed the test. we couldn’t go on the track in the rain, so we had to wait it out. o was so certain we were going to make it, but then there was traffic on the way back to the airport. i ended up running the last three blocks just to make the plane, and then we took off late, and by the time we landed in florida i knew I was late but you’d stopped answering my calls. the next time I saw you, you told me it was over.”

“you still picked a car over me. but I was stubborn, not letting you tell me why. i should have at least let you explain yourself.” the anger slowly ebbed out of her body. she knew that holding on was only holding her back from moving on, but she’d never stopped caring about kyle and that’s why it hurt so much.

“you know I’ve followed your career since? you put on a damn good show in long beach.”

kyle froze, halfway to his seat with two plates of breakfast, button down shirt marred with wrinkles. “you watch me race?”

“i still care about you, kirkwood.” she smiled sadly, reaching for a plate. “and I figured if you’d picked racing over me, you might as well be somewhat decent at it.”

kyle laughed, settling himself at the counter. “well, it’s been a roller coaster of a season, I’ll give you that. you know, some days I regret running that test. no racing seat was worth losing you.”

“you would have regretted not doing it. i know you, kyle kirkwood.” she reached across the dining space, resting her hand in his. “we both had different things we wanted out of life and we were too naive to realize it. and my path ended up not even being the one I wanted. I’ve made my mind up. I’m dropping out of usc.”

kyle couldn’t hide his look of surprise. the hallowed institution had been all she wanted when they were teenagers. moving their lives to carolina and working around his racing and her psych degrees was all they ever talked about.

“what? but you love that place. charleston was all you ever wanted.”

she shook her head, taking a bite out of the semi-burnt toast kyle had prepared (it was all she could stomach in her current state).

“there’s nothing left for me in carolina. it turns out that I really hate my major.” she laughed, coughing slightly on a bread crumb. “getting through my undergrad was hard enough, i hesitate to even think about my masters. the whole reason I had picked a program this long was because I was scared to face the real world anyways. losing dad has put that into perspective.”

“so what are you going to do?”

“remember my plan b? the plan where I would go to trade school and get my red seal and work with my dad, then travel cross country with you during the racing season? the plan that had seemed like just wishful thinking? well, dad left me the garage.”

that plan b had been wishful thinking, something to tie her over for a year or two whole she figured her life out if she didn’t get into usc, or her safety school. and now it was reality. the entire garage and everything in it was hers now.

“i don’t know the first thing about running a business, but this feels like a sign. i want to turn it into something, kyle. a place for women, all-female mechanics. too many good women get screwed over by mechanics who think that their client is more gullible or likely to pay more because she doesn’t understand what’s wrong with her car.”

that was the y/n that kyle loved: the one with the big heart who had dreams bigger than her body. the one who would be happy with that nice quiet life as long as she could be happy with herself. the one who acted before she thought about the repercussions because she was just so excited about something.

he reached across the kitchen island, gently grabbing her shoulders. “hold your horses, pretty girl. take a load off, come to nashville with me and take a few days to think this through. don’t give up on carolina just yet. remember, you deserve to be happy. and if trade school is what you really want to do, it’s not too late to go for it.”

“it’s so hard to hate you, kyle maclean kirkwood. even when you have a stupid fucking rich boy name.” she could feel the tears pricking at the back of her eyes, every feeling she ever had for the man in front of her bubbling back to the surface. “why did you let me let you go?”

letting him go had been one of the biggest mistakes she ever made. maybe that’s why it took her so long to get into another relationship afterwards. she kept comparing her suitors to kyle and none of them matched up to the talented, funny, sarcastic young man she had been with before she left florida.

“because I thought that was what you wanted.”

“of course it wasn’t, dipshit. i was just too stubborn to let you back in.”

she leaned over the kitchen island, her thumb tracing kyles jaw. he was still every bit as beautiful as she remembered. older, but not necessarily wiser. and she had changed so much. she wasn’t that small town girl who worked at the auto shop over her summers or that girl who danced barefoot on the beach belting ‘sweet home alabama’ with a white claw in her hand.

but maybe she could be that carefree again.

neither wanted to make the first move. kyle wanted to break first, but he knew it was important to let y/n make up her own mind about this. he’d feel like a dick for the rest of his life if there was even the slightest possibility that he had taken advantage of her aggrieved state.

“so are you going to kiss me or what, kirkwood?”

you didn’t have to tell kyle twice. he practically dove across the island to pull her into his arms, familiar motions that they had gone through so many times before as he pressed his lips to hers. gentle but firm, just the way he knew she liked it.

she was breathless as she pulled away, a giggle in the back of her throat. “you know my dad always hoped we’d get back together. he said he’d never seen me as happy as i was when I was with you. and I think he was right. i still love you, kyle.”

“and I never stopped loving you.”

TAGS:

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PEOPLE WHO REBLOGGED THE INDYCAR DRIVERS AS ROMANCE BOOK TROPES MASTERPOST

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[alienelvisobsession]

The Quentin Tarantino Connection

When he was a teenager in the late 1970s and early 1980s, Quentin Tarantino was by his own admission way into ‘50s rockabilly music. “I was like the second coming of Elvis Presley. I dyed my hair black. I wore it in a big ole pompadour”, he said in an interview. In his recent book Cinema Speculation, he writes about discussing cinema with his mom’s black friend Floyd, who was into blaxploitation. He loved hearing Floyd’s first-hand accounts of being a black Elvis fan back in the 1950s, also rebuking claims that the King of Rock ‘n Roll was racist. He even included “Elvis impersonator” in his early résumé and it must have paid out because he was cast as one in an episode of the sit-com The Golden Girls in 1988. Incidentally, Tarantino was born in Elvis’ home state of Tennessee, where his mother is from, and as a kid was even left there for a year, describing his family as “hillbilly alcoholics”.

Elvis often comes up in his movies. For example in a deleted scene of his now classic film Pulp Fiction (1994), Mia Wallace uses a hand-held video camera to interview Vincent Vega with either/or questions. She explains the game as follows: “There are only two kinds of people in the world, Beatles people and Elvis people”. Mia has no doubts about Vincent’s allegiance. With his swagger, callback to “Grease” and dance moves, John Travolta is an Elvis man through and through.

Of course, Mia and Vincent later go a to ‘50s themed diner called Jack Rabbit Slim’s, where they have the famous twist contest dancing to Chuck Berry’s “You Never Can Tell”. The waiters are all dressed like dead stars from the 1950s, such as Marilyn Monroe, James Dean and Buddy Holly. Even though, as Vincent would put it, the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll must have had the night off, in Mia’s words “an Elvis man should love it”. Tarantino said that the design for the diner, where the guests sit in booths made like ‘50s vintage cars and the dance floor looks like a tachometer, was partially inspired by the nightclub with race car motifs in one of Elvis’ movies, Speedway (1968).

Tarantino references Elvis here and there in his work. In the novelization of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood that he wrote, for example, Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio in the movie) is described by his agent Marvin (Al Pacino) as having spent all his career “running pocket combs through his pompadour”, which by 1969 not even Elvis has anymore.

His biggest Elvis homage came very early on in his career, though. As a matter of fact, to finance what would become his first movie, Reservoir Dogs (1992), Tarantino auctioned a script that he had written, True Romance. It was made into a movie by Tony Scott and it ultimately came out in 1993. True Romance begins with a casual conversation about pop culture in the style of Mr. Brown with his infamous “Like a Virgin” theory in Reservoir Dogs. Clarence (Christian Slater) is at a bar, chatting up a girl. Like Tarantino, Clarence prefers ‘50s Elvis and praises Jailhouse Rock (the movie not the song) where Elvis was everything that rockabilly was about: “Mean, surly, nasty, rude”. And then, obviously interested in picking up the girl, he continues: “Elvis looked good. I mean, I ain’t no fag, but Elvis was prettier than most women, you know. Most women. You know, I always said if I had to fuck a guy – you know, I mean, had to – if my life depended on it, I’d fuck Elvis”. Tarantino establishes the rules for his story right away: just like you have fantasies where you wish you were Elvis or as cool as Elvis, or you wish you could fuck him, this movie is a whole fantasy where you wish you were a hero who had a crazy adventure and passionate love story involving pimps, drugs and guns.

Clarence, an alter ego for the author, falls madly in love with Alabama (Patricia Arquette), a call girl. Clarence loves martial arts movies, comic books, hamburgers and Elvis, just like the film director. He also wears Elvis glasses and drives a purple Cadillac. Throughout the movie, Elvis pops up several times, in magazines, on T-shirts and on furniture or posters. The most striking appearance is obviously when Clarence sees Elvis (Val Kilmer) in the bathroom mirror, dressed in his gold lamé suit but anachronistically sporting his ‘70s big glasses. Elvis tells Clarence that he has to kill Alabama’s pimp, and there the adventure begins.

In Cinema Speculation, which sits halfway between film criticism and memoir, Tarantino goes back to Elvis several times. He writes that Elvis could have been the biggest movie star of the 1960s, if it weren’t for Colonel Parker’s greediness and for the weight of his own enormous success in the music business. He even mentions excitedly that Elvis was considered for the role of Sundance in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) opposite Warren Beatty, before the roles went to Paul Newman and Robert Redford.

Tarantino has always took a liking for B movies, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to learn that he’s not dismissive of Elvis movies as a whole and writes about a few of them in detail. He considers Flaming Star (1960), for instance, to be “a truly great fifties Western, and maybe the most brutally violent American western of its era.” According to him, the film director, Don Siegel, who would go on to direct Dirty Harry (1971), was a master when it came to film fistfights and chase sequences. This was because of his background in editing and his penchant for violence. Tarantino also praises Don Siegel’s unexpected use of shocking bouts of violence, of which there are several in Flaming Star. His protagonists, including Elvis’ Pacer, were often at odds with the society they lived in, which reflected the way Siegel felt around film executives and producers. “Pod people” is how he called them, in reference to his movie The Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) and in this category he included Elvis’ nefarious manager, Colonel Tom Parker.

Tarantino recognizes that Elvis movies weren’t real movies but “ElvIs movies”, but he’s a fan of Roustabout (1964) nevertheless. He describes it as: “a pretty entertaining little picture chock-full of cool elements, Elvis entering the movie on a motorcycle—dressed head to toe in black leather […], a strong Big Valley era Barbara Stanwyck as his colead, a one-line bit at the beginning by Raquel Welch, the best soundtrack of any of Elvis’ color films, including a rarity for the King on film—Elvis singing a cover of somebody else’s hit, the Coasters’ Little Egypt, and the only film where Elvis gets to demonstrate his Ed Parker-taught karate moves.” Because of course Tarantino loves martial arts movies, just like Elvis did. And blaxploitation, hamburgers, comic books and being over the top. They would have been great friends.

Read here my previous posts on Elvis connections. So far I’ve written about Jimi Hendrix, Andy Warhol/Bob Dylan, the Clash and Jim Morrison.

[spidernerdsblog]

Hey can u write abt yn meeting Tom's parents of its complicated

Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

It's Complicated (roommate au)

Meeting his parents

Pairing : Frat! Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings : none

“Y/N just relax.” Tom watched you chug down the whole glass of champagne which the flight attendant handed you a few seconds ago. You were doing fine when you boarded the jet at New York, then both of you made sure to get yourselves included in the mile high club as well but as the pilot had announced that you were half an hour away from landing at the private airport in London you were all nerves.

“I can't.” You said feeling all jittery.

“Why what's wrong?” 

“What's wrong? Tom, I thought you were business class rich, not a private jet kind of rich.” 

That made him laugh. “What difference does it make?” 

“A lot.” you looked at him incredulously. “You are like royalty having people at your beck and call to do all your work. And here I am, a nobody. Will your parents even accept me as your wife?” you sighed with remorse.

“Darling, I know you were the smartest in our class scoring straight As but I’ve to say sometimes you act silly which is totally cute by the way.” he snickered.

“Stop laughing Tom, it's not funny. I’m literally panicking over here and you’re sitting there enjoying.” you huffed annoyed. 

“Ok, ok I’m sorry, love.” he stood up and sat next to you. “You are so perfect you really have nothing to worry about honestly. It isn’t any kind of interview, I just want you to meet them.” he said. “You don’t know how excited they are, especially my mum the number of times she has called this whole week to know what you like and don’t like. If it were to her she would have us married by this weekend.” Tom chuckled and then touched your face gently looking into your eyes. “And I love you, that's all that matters.” He leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your lips and you were already feeling a lot less nervous.

After landing you went through security check in and then grabbed your luggage. At the exit a car was already waiting for you. A middle aged man stepped out of the driver's seat. He was very neatly dressed in a polo t-shirt and dark trousers as he walked towards you with a huge smile.

“Dad?”

“How are you son?”

“I’m good but you needn’t have to come to pick us up. Sanders could have done that.”

“Your mother’s strict orders I must go and welcome our future daughter-in-law myself. And you don’t say no to your wife Tom. This is the first most important lesson you need to know.” he said with a boisterous laugh.

“I’m Edward Holland.” he stuck out his hand.

“Y/N Y/L/N” you shook his hand meekly. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” he said with a fatherly tone. “We can talk further on the way, let's get going or else we will be late for lunch.”

Once the bags were loaded you and Tom climbed on the back seat as his father pulled out the car from the parking lot and drove towards their mansion. The weather in London was cloudy with overcast skies and light drizzle. The city had a vintage vibe with all the Victorian architecture you noticed during the drive. A smile crept at the corner of Tom’s lips seeing you all mesmerised with his hometown. He laced his hands with your giving it a light squeeze. You turned to look at him. “This place is beautiful.” 

“I’m glad you liked it.” he said rubbing his thumb over your hand.

It was a two hour long drive to his childhood home, a huge mansion in the suburbs. As soon as you reached the front door it opened immediately revealing a red headed woman. It was Tom’s mom you recognized from the few video chats you had in the past.

“Tom!” she cried hugging her son tightly. “You finally found some time to visit your mother.”

“Mum… you know I’ve to handle the whole NY division of our company.”

“Ok, ok I understand.” she snickered. “It’s so good to see you.” 

Tom stepped back from her embrace and gestured towards you. “Mum, this is Y/N.”

“Ah it’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” she took both of your hands in hers smiling.

“Hello, Mrs. Holland.” you smiled widely in return.

“Oh please call me Iris.” she said. “I feel so old when people call me Mrs. Holland.” 

“Because you’re old, mum.” Tom teased.

Iris swatted her son on his arm playfully. “You’re a menace, you know that.”

“And yet you love me the most.” he said sweetly.

“Ok, ok now come inside. I’ve lots to catch up with Y/N.”

After Iris gave you a short tour of the house you were sitting in the main dining room around the large mahogany table enjoying your lunch which was delicious.

“Is the food to your liking Y/N.” Iris asked.

“Yes it’s truly delicious.” you replied.

“I hear you work in an IT firm.” Edward said.

“Yes, I head the software developing team.”

“That’s wonderful and what do your parents do?”

“Both my mom and dad are professors at Boston university.” you informed.

“Oh so you’ve an academic background that’s great!” he said with admiration.  “You see Tom’s grandfather started as a carpenter but then with little luck and a lot of hard work he expanded the business and now we’re a big name in the whole housing business.”

“That’s inspiring.” you said.

“So when are you planning to have the wedding?” Iris asked.

“We haven’t decided yet.” Tom answered.

“Then you should so that we can talk to Y/N’s parents.” she said excitedly. “I can’t wait to see my youngest son happily married.”

“Mum, just slow down, you're going to scare Y/N now.” Tom chuckled.

“Oh I’m so sorry I don’t mean to overwhelm you.” 

“It’s alright I understand your concern.” you smiled.

“I was always worried that my youngest son would never find love again but then one day he called and started talking about this lovely girl he met and wants to spend his life with her. I could feel the happiness in his voice the way he spoke about you.” her eyes were misty as she spoke. “And now that I’ve met I’m glad it’s you.”

“Thank you, you’re too kind.” you blushed.

“No need to thank me, just give me some grandkids to spoil and I’ll be happy.”

“Mum!” Tom screeched.

“What? You do have plans to have kids someday don’t you?” she looked at you both expectantly. Though you and Tom haven’t had any serious conversation about having kids but seeing Tom all flustered you knew he wanted them too.

“Umm yes but nothing in the immediate future.” you said coyly.

“That’s fine, take your time, there's no rush.” she said. “Tom was the chubbiest of my three sons with these round cheeks and head full of dark hair. I’m going to show you the photo album later.”

“Oh no…” Tom groaned.

You leaned towards him and whispered, smiling. “I really like your mom.”

(p.s - from now on I'll be trying to use original characters for Tom's family in all my original au's, though I might use the boys as face claims .)

[shootingmorningstar]

Hi!! I saw you also accepted matchups and I would love to request one! I’d love a romantic matchup for Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel (do only one of them if I can o my request one fandom obv)!

my pronouns are she/her and I’m asexual biromantic (I’d prefer a male character, but if you think one of the girls fits me best any gender is fine!). I’m an ESFJ and a Gemini. I have green eyes and dyed cherry red hair. I dress with vintage/fairy grunge clothes. Long skirts and corsets are my fav type of outfit. I wear lots of rings and crystal/pearl necklaces and love to exchange them with others. I also have tattoos, currently I have three but I’m planning to get more. I love to wear makeup and come up with something creative and different everyday. Also, if someone lets me do their makeup they’ll have my heart forever.

I’m the mom friend of the group, always there for everyone and my friends say that I’m really good at comforting people. I’m also calm and responsible, I usually am the one that takes care of other people. I’m very optimistic, I always try to see the good in everything and I often put other’s needs before my own. I love making others laugh to lighten the situation. I’m not afraid to stand up for myself or for someone else but sometimes it’s hard for me to say no to things. I also dislike when someone is too serious and really can’t take a joke as I tend to use humor as my coping mechanism. I’m also very ambitious, I always try to achieve my goals.

My love languages are, receiving, physical touch and words of affirmation and giving, quality time and words of affirmation.

I absolutely love listening to music, it helps me relax and I really like reading (I love reading out loud to others, when I read dialogues I act them out a little to help picture the scene). I especially love fantasy and I recently got into greek mythology. I also love watching horror movies even though it’s impossible to scare me. I also play Dungeons and Dragons with my friends anytime I can. also, I absolutely love musicals and I’m definitely a theatre kid.

Have a good day!! <3

Your sense of fashion sounds so great, anon .ᐟ As a fellow lover of horror, this matchup was a lot of fun for me.

Anon, I'm matching you with . . .

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Verosika Mayday .ᐟ

Lucky you, anon, my absolute favorite Helluva Boss character .ᐟ And the best one.

I know you said male preference, but I just can't help but think you and Verosika would pair amazingly. The best out of the entire Hellaverse. The whole time I was reading your request she just screamed at me as the answer. Seriously, detail by detail I was just convinced more and more. Who would love your dyed hair more than her .ᐣ Not only that, she'd be incredible at helping you re-dye it .ᐟ Verosika is the diva of Hell, she knows everything there is to know about beauty and haircare. She always has to look flawless, after all.

I think the appeal would be the same in regards to your creative fashion sense and makeup abilities .ᐟ She's intrigued on how a style so different from her usual one can look so cute. Please dress her up and do her makeup, she'd love it.

I also think she'd really admire your ambitious attitude. In her line of work, you have to be ambitious or you'll fail, badly. She could use someone optimistic around her, too. Blitzo left her burned and probably with some trust issues, so you'd be wonderful help with that. Verosika's love language is also physical touch, and that's practically canon. Loving horror almost always means a love for the dramatics, which she definitely appreciates. You mentioned having trouble saying no .ᐣ She is definitely the best influence for that. And your adoration of music .ᐣ It writes itself. The two of you may be in Hell, but you're definitely a match made in Heaven.

[artemiseamoon]

A Hermits Journey

1: This isn’t home

A oneshot slowly turning into a fic | revised 3.27.23

Words: 2,213

Week 22 @writer-wednesday

The Teller brothers

Au where Garrett Hedlund is Jackson’s younger brother, Noah Teller

This is a oneshot for now! Will be expanded at another time.

This is a preview * read in full on A03 * for now it’s just a oneshot since my plate is over full

Jax was out of places to look when the phone call came. It was just a few seconds long, brief and to the point. Noah was never one for words, not after dad's death at least. Everyone took it their own way, for Noah, he shut down and remained that way.

It didn’t matter he still had Jax, mom, the club if he wanted it; Noah didn’t want anything to do with any of it. He was known for packing up and vanishing for a long time, much to Gemma’s frustration. Sometimes it didn’t even feel like Jax had a brother left. Sometimes it felt like Noah died too.

Noah’s been gone for 11 months, the longest stint yet. Gemma was all worked up, sure her boy was dead. She was in a frenzy and looking into reports and John Doe’s. Jax had a bit more hope, he knew his brother, to an extent, and he knew Noah would pop up again at some point, especially if he got himself in a hole he couldn't charm his way out of.

Even so, understanding aside, Jax was pissed. He hated when Noah disappeared like this. As predicted, Noah eventually reached out, he used his one phone call to contact Jax.

.

This place was in the middle of nowhere, all types of seedy with years of dirt and memories ground into the wood floor. Faded stickers and posters on the walls with a few vintage beer signs.

Motorhead blared from the speakers and the bar top was packed, shoulder to shoulder. The men looked the part for this place, and their sole focus was the busty bartender, thought they did eye up Jax's kutte when he walked in.

The bartender was older with a cute figure and confidence through the roof. Jax could tell she's been at this a long time, maybe even at this same bar for years. She used the moth to a flame effect she had on the men to her advantage; her tip jar was already overflowing, and she had a few bills tucked in the red lace of her bra.

As Jax observed her, she made eye contact and winked at him before going back to her task. Jax responded with a warm smile, then turned his attention back to his brother, seated directly across him in the booth.

Noah was doing that thing where he stares off at nothing, broody, full of angst. A 90s grunge icon in the wrong era dressed in all black and leather instead of flannel: eerily silent on the outside but a turbulent storm brewing on the inside. Noah looked the same, but different. His hair was longer than Jax's now, and he wore a similar kind of beard.

Continuing to say nothing, Noah brought his glass to his lips and took a drink.

“You lucked out brother, we have friends down here. Charges dropped.” Jax said, cutting into the sounds of the bar and thick silence between them.

Noah made eye contact, his expression remaining unchanged. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Jesus Christ- " Jax sighed, then rested his arms on the table, "I know you didn’t, you're my fucking kid brother! Am I supposed to just let you rot in a cell?"

Noah shrugged, looking away as his jaw ticked.

"Look man, you can’t keep doing this shit. It’s killing mom.” Jax paused, waiting until his brother looked him in the eye to finish. “And me.”

Read more here (A03) ⬅️

More writer Wednesday

More SOA

[discountalien-pancake]

Hi Pancake! Congrats on finishing the tunic. I already think it look lovely, from the pieces that I've seen. The embroidery is very nice, I think you said there were half moons on the pattern but upside down they made me think of little boats/ships. 😄Looking forward to seeing it in full.

Can you talk a little bit of how you got into costuming? What's a thing you made in the past that you're proud of?

Have a nice day!

(sent from my main, fanblog is insufficient-earth- skills)

Thank you! I love your boat interpretation, it’s so appropriate for the costume and the culture. I think I mentioned before that I chose moons and stars because of Elendil and Isildur’s names and the star motif on Elendil’s dagger. I’m not sure when exactly O settled on this being Isildur’s ceremonial tunic, but that’s what my brain latched onto!

As for how I got started in costuming specifically, it was really out of spite lol. My mom taught me to sew by hand and do cross-stitch embroidery when I was very little, probably around when I was five or six, and I dabbled in it on and off for ages. In college I made a simple slip dress and not much else, and around the same time, I started being friends with @longsightmyth amongst others, here on this blog. Which is relevant because we had a shared beef with the stupid clothing in fantasy novels.

Also turned out we both liked watching Bernadette Banner on youtube, and that was kind of how the [#myth and pancake make underpinnings] tag was born. Then along came the Cinderella dress color controversy, during which Myth kind of broke our little corner of tumblr by bringing to everyone’s attention that glass is green. That spawned a whole lot of weird outrage over whether the dress is white or blue or silver, while Myth staunchly defended the concept of a glass-green gown. So then I designed said gown and started prepping to make it, partly as a joke, partly because it is a color I love and wanted to showcase.

This is my favorite thing I’ve made so far, and it’s actually the first piece in the Glass Gown ensemble. It is an Edwardian-style camisole made from a silk and rayon jacquard that I fell in love with when I came across it on etsy. The lace is vintage and deadstock, and the buttons are also vintage. Everything else is new. I’ve worn it a few times but I want to have a proper chemise and corset to go under it before I take pictures of myself in it. The waistline is sized for me in a corset, so it’s a little too small normally.

[after-witch]

Hey in some of your overhaul fics, you mention that he has the reader wear dresses that kiiiiiinda resemble nightgowns- i was wondering, do you have any pics of what you imagine the dresses look like? Because everytime i go back to read your works, i imagine something different, lol- sometimes pastel gunne sax dresses, other times victorian inspired pieces with delicate lace, loose bohemian style kaftans, sometimes clothes that remind me of my grandma's doll collection- i know you like to leave your work open to the readers, but since overhaul's strict about every other aspect of his darling's life, do you think he's just as strict when it comes to their clothing style?

For "day wear," I tend to imagine reader being given nap dresses, lounge dresses, anything with lots of flounce to it. Dresses made from soft fabrics, light colors, maybe some light prints (like florals). Dresses that are definitely designed to remind you of your place inside, no shoes, nothing difficult to do. Just read books and engage in light hobbies and relax. 

I do think that vintage Gunne Sax and similar 1970s dresses fit the aesthetic as well, though I would probably imagine those for a “later timeline” Overhaul in my vague fic series, when reader has graduated into a “housewife” type role. 

But for “Reader is stuck in Overhaul’s bunker” situations, I usually imagine dresses like this:

For night time, definitely actual night gowns. Soft, usually if not exclusively white, lace and ruffles. Thin fabric. You might notice that sometimes he picks out ones that are very short... almost indecent, just barely covering your butt. He would deny it or say you had a filthy mind if you said anything, though. 

In general, I think he’d control your clothing pretty much entirely. He picks out your outfits, picks out what’s in the wardrobe in the first place. 

If you were super attached to a particular style or aesthetic, I can see him maybe working your preferences in if you’re being compliant and pleasant, as a reward. But like... in the way that a parent who doesn’t understand a teenager’s hobbies does? Where it’s not your normal clothing, not exactly what you would normally wear, but it’s his conception of it. So if you prefer to wear, say, jeans and t-shirts, he might pick out some casual blouses and leggings. Not quite what you wanted, but he’s got the spirit.

Like my mom, bless her heart, buying me a plain black short sleeve shirt from Target because she knew I bought a bunch of gothy clothes at Hot Topic back in ye olden times of 2004. 

[moral-terpitude]

The Dead Rabbit - Part XIII

Charlotte sat beside Tommy for the third night in a row as they combed through camera footage from their ports, tonight one in London and one in New Jersey. She sipped the coffee she had brought, but it was no longer hot.

“What do you think about if we just sign the papers?”

“Hmm?” He shook his head as he paused the footage. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening.”

He looked at her tired eyes as the clock ticked filling their silence. The only light they had was coming from screens and a small lamp on the corner of his desk.

“I said what do you think about if we just sign the papers.” Charlotte repeated, staring at him while taking a long sip of the coffee as she pushed the pad Thai noodles around in the styrofoam container.

“The papers for what, love?” With all the papers Tommy had on his desk each day he was truly daft as to what she was talking about.

“The papers that make us married.”

He took a deep breath as he leaned back in the brown office chair, an optimistic grin spreading across his face. “Yeah? You asking me to marry you then, eh?”

Charlotte nodded, trying not to laugh at his slowly evolving reaction to her words.

“As long as I still get to do right by you. Do something proper. Even if I didn’t want to, I don’t believe me mom would let me get out of it. And you deserve something proper.”

Charlotte shook her head as a laugh escaped her. “Shall we do it there then?“

“You don’t think your family will come?”

“Oh, they will. My uncle, after my dad passed, always said he would walk me. But your family is larger than mine so,” she shrugged twirling the capped pen between her fingers, “They’re all Marines. They look for any excuse to wear Dress Blues.”

“Well they better not.” He tossed the pen down on a stack of papers as he pushed the chair back from the desk, “I know men from G Parachute Battery that had to rescue US Marines in Iraq.”

“They only had to be rescued because the US Army fucked up though,” Charlotte goaded.

“Yeah, they fucking did.”

Tommy opened the drawer to the left of his chair staring at the velvet box that he had set aside the day the jeweler had gotten it in.

Charlotte was surprised as she watched him as he seemed caught up on the precipice of indecision. He hadn’t talked to her much about his time in the service. Maybe it hadn’t been the best time to bring it up.

He conceded with himself that he’d take her lead, this time, as he plucked the black box from the drawer, hiding it from her as much as possible. “Now, you’ve got to close your eyes, because you haven’t given me time to prepare for this, and it was supposed to be a surprise.”

He wished he could’ve taken her photo before he said the words. The smile she wore paired with the way she covered her eyes made him think this could possibly be the happiest they would both be for awhile with the chaos he could anticipate coming in their near futures.

Charlottes stomach flipped as she uncovered her eyes. Tommy on one knee in front of her looked almost nervous.

“Charlotte, I know we’ve set ourselves upon a long unexpected road to travel, but there is no one else I can picture traveling upon it with but you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” She shook as he slid the ring on her finger. She assumed from the look of it it was vintage as well. She decided, as she repeated it to herself in her head over and over that Charlotte Shelby did have a rather nice sound to it.

Charlotte Shelby. Charlotte Shelby. Charlotte Shelby.

Charlotte Grace Shelby.

She saw snippets in her head as his lips met hers. He was the same, always. Soft lips and blue eyes, gentle and rough all at once. Always holding love for someone who had once betrayed him.

The thought invaded Charlotte as if she had been the one to do it herself. This time was a fresh start. She pulled away, gentle and unalarmed as she shoved the thought back down. Now was different, searching his eyes to see the smile that truly matched she could tell that she found herself back in the present.

She stared at the ring situated on her finger. The size of the stone was almost too much. It fit perfectly.

“It’s from the 1930’s,” he situated himself back in the chair next to her, procuring two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the drawer.

Charlotte was hiding her smile behind the hand she leaned on the desk as he handed her one, a silent clinking of glasses in celebration as she ruminated on the question that flooded her mind.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, accepting the glass as he handed it to her, “it’s not hers,” she observed as she fiddled with the filigree and stone encrusted band with her pinky and took a sip from the glass, a fact in her mind telling her that Grace’s ring had been gold, “but it’s mine. Was she buried with it?”

He shook his head, a shrug and brow furrowed as she watched him think, “I don’t know. I believe so.”

“Of all the other things you can remember, that isn’t one.” It sounded harsh as the words left her lips.

She took a sip from the glass as he spoke, “He didn’t make the arrangements. That whole, timeframe, gets a bit muddled,” he rubbed his eyes, elbows thudding against the desk as he thought, “Polly and Ada took care of everything.”

Tommy honestly felt quite sick as he tried to pull the memories forward and picture any part of Grace’s funeral. It was almost as if, for that second, he could feel that lock of her hair between his fingers, kept on him til the day he thought he would die before it burned up at the expense of his doctor’s gardener. It was the last reminder he had had of her.

He could see the day when the local midwife that had helped Polly wash and prepare his wife for the funeral, the pennies on her eyes and the ribbons tieing her limbs at the joints. She had looked beautiful, peaceful even despite the circumstance, like if he bent down down and kissed her like he did each morning before leaving, she would roll on her side, half awake and tell him that she loved him before he left the house with business to tend to.

If she had been Roma there would have been a memory filled with smoke, but she was Irish, so instead the memories were of his home, their home, large enough for her family to be welcomed for a wake. The ones that came anyway. The windows cracked and the mirrors faced the walls, or were draped in fabric where they couldn’t be removed.

Polly had been the one sent to stop the clock in Tommy’s office, to find him with a light pallor and a glass of whiskey, silently cursing the gold band on his finger that now tied him to a memory of his own guilt.

Intermixed with those thoughts were the thoughts of the hospital and the blood. All of the blood. Him and Arthur sat on the floor in the hall of the hospital, coated with the blotches and spray of Grace’s blood and the blood of the assassin sent by the Changretta family, as, for the first time in many many years, Arthur held Tommy while he cried. They never spoke of it.

“Yes,” he finally whispered, coming back to the present to see the concern on her face as she stared at him in the present day, “yes, she was buried with it.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” Charlotte whispered, “I shouldn’t have pushed, it’s not important—“

“I’m not upset. If you want to know, that does make it important.” His blue eyes looked pained as they met hers again, but she could tell it wasn’t her that was the cause.

“Her curiosity got the better of me I think.”

The task at hand was slowly disregarded as she abandoned her glass and joined him in his chair, lips meeting as his hands found her waist, with her fingers delicately working at undoing his tie so they could be free from their constraints and revel in the desire of each other.