#also… my laptop is slow as fuck so it takes FOREVER just to load the frames
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The 248px gifs look like shit on photoshop and it’s even worse when I put subtitles on but I can’t make them 540px cause they have too many frames 😭
#also… my laptop is slow as fuck so it takes FOREVER just to load the frames#literally took me over TWO hours just for 2 gifs#mostly bc of the frames#@tumblr: MAKE THE GIF LIMIT 20MB!!!!!!#my txt
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Wintertide Inside ft. Gahyeon
length ✦ 4841
genres ✧ cockwarming; anal; gf!Gahyeon
✦✧✦✧✦✧
Maybe it’s obvious, but you’re thankful for Gahyeon’s ass. A simple contract—if you need a cocksleeve to wrap you or if your girlfriend needs a toy to fill her, neither of you would say no. You’re nominally in charge today but the outcome’s the same either way, with cum seeping from both ends of her tract and your cock sore in the best plight a man can have.
Swift moans interject her snoring to surface you from your nap, probably because of flashes of biting air that creep in from some draft in the room. Her red crop-top is the only article of clothing on her scrumptious physique while you’re completely stark. Don’t want to get up so you hold her somehow closer with no worry for your own frigidity. Gahyeon is tiny in your entwine. As you emanate heat from your torso to her back, she returns it tenfold between her legs.
The incongruity of her pussy is that it’s both uncomfortable and comforting. Stressfully tight and lovingly wet, while grueling clenches verge on coaxing yet another orgasm from you. Its quaver can be measured in millimeters when your cock etches its shape more permanent. Yesterday’s regrets and tomorrow’s worries become dust in your brain as it toils to memorize each of her inner folds.
Therefore more than the mouthwatering shape or size, you’re grateful for the cushion of her buttcheeks because it rivals your couch’s plushness and distracts you from your imminent peak, your third or fourth today. Losing track is easy when she keeps your cock incarcerated for so long. The threat of climax fades away and returns as quickly while single pulses reiterate how close to the edge you are. No lights on in your living room. Don’t need them. Nothing in your head other than Gahyeon anyway.
Rays spill through the thick curtains and a sliver barely misses her eyes to fall on yours instead. However, she rouses too from her sleep when a pillow between her legs slips to the floor. Nothing funny but you both giggle.
“How’s your nap, babe?” you say.
She twitches at the warm air tickling her ears, and cold the rest of her skin, but you manage to keep most of your body stationary in Gahyeon’s embrace. Gahyeon yawns and stretches her arms, pushing back on the edge of the couch. “I think I had an amazing dream. Brr.”
“Dummy, you don’t dream until you hit R.E.M.” You point and she bends down to grab the thick blue blanket that fell on the floor. A small hum arises from you at the slight shift in angle. Look at the white clock above the TV and point again. “It’s only been like twenty.”
Gahyeon hands the blanket to you and you swathe it around your two bodies, calming both of your shivers. “Felt like forever. Pff, I was trying to be all romantic.”
“Why be romantic when-” Your words fall to breathy laments when the smoothest swing of her hips turn millimeters of movement to centimeters. The friction from only fractions of your length force a whimper out of her as it does a throb from you.
Gahyeon’s moans turn to more desperate whimpers in kind. Her hand aims below her crop-top and your shaft feels the curious kneading of her fingers below her belly button. Another throb. “Fuck. I still feel your cum inside. It’s almost too much.”
“Then why are you grinding so much? I’m barely running on empty.”
Your head is so fuzzy, you can’t tell how she manages to get on top of you while keeping your cock inside the entire time. For as savory as it is to look or smell or listen to her cute grunts, the only sensation that passes to your mind is her tightness twisting around your shaft.
Gahyeon sits up and collects a bit of leakage with a finger, provocatively sucking it. “Nice try but I know the taste of your fresh load.”
“Fuck, you make my cock so sensitive. Such a good cumslut.”
She gulps and bats her eyes so you pull her hair down, and your lips converge. Your core reignites when Gahyeon starts jolting her hips down hard on yours, and you note that her walls aren’t just clingy with your semen but that her pussy is lubricious with girl cum. It’s her turn to be the fucktoy but she’s stalwart in riding you. You’re in no condition to object.
Gahyeon looks up at the clock and she slows down though not fully arresting her momentum. “Wait a sec, why didn’t you tell me the time?” she says after a thrust and a pant.
You shrug and she blows air out of her lips. Not a mind reader here.
Her pussy almost snaps shut when she gets off you. She steals the blanket while she’s at it. ”Right, should’ve told you to remind me. How am I supposed to focus on the performance later with this in me the whole time?” Gahyeon says, wiping the sticky load dripping from her other lips.
“Man, the blanket’s gonna be sticky now.”
“Sorry babe, I’ll try to do a better job keeping it inside me, okay?”
Stand up and grab some tissues for the fluids coating her groin before you clean yourself the same. You shiver at the air occasionally sweeping the room because you don exactly one less garment than Gahyeon, but it’s about making a statement. It’s your apartment dammit so you can be nude at any hour if you want to be.
Widen the curtains and suffuse the room with natural white light. Look outside, your undraped stature proud and unsympathetic to the outside world to which you expose yourself. Sky and trees are near monochrome as the snow piles up on the grass which adds to the subtraction of color.
“You’re so weird,” she says. Your dick flops as you turn around and flaunt your butt to mother nature itself, knowing its coldness towards you isn’t solely metaphorical in this season.
“This is our first winter together, my first new year in my own apartment. I have to be excited.” You raise your arms.
“Fair. You wouldn’t be here without me.” A signature curly smile and she joins your side to admire the snowy sight, letting you share in some—no, not all—of the warmness of the blanket.
“I mean if we were normal, I wouldn’t have left.” You hug Gahyeon and give her a smooch on her forehead. “But I needed my own place for my little cum-hungry, cum-greedy cockwarmer.”
Pink always spreads her cheeks at your brazen words. Her tummy presses on your softening cock and brings it back to life but she backs away. Gahyeon brings the back of each of her hands to her sides. “Right, speaking of which. Can I take one of my panties from your drawer?”
“You didn’t bring any? Hold on, that was supposed to be a secret!” you say.
“Yeah, obviously I know about them, stupid. You didn’t even notice when I packed a couple in there myself when you moved, did you?”
She’s right, you didn’t, so shake your head. Gahyeon giggles then gives you the blanket again before she heads to your room. “I’ll be back soon, okay!” she yells while you fiddle with the thermostat.
Grab some tortilla chips from the pantry then sit on the couch bundled in the blanket and turn to a channel that’s just playing a loop of a fireplace. At least the crackling sounds realistic with your speakers.
In only a few minutes, she already has a full winter outfit on, a bright tomato that would stand out sorely in the snow. The apartment is already a lot mellower so you put the blanket away to wash later. Gahyeon is enticing no matter what she wears but you’re warm inside seeing your girlfriend wrapped up, though warmth also comes from the humiliation finally setting in from the contrast between her state of dress and yours.
“Did you hear me? I said I’ll be back soon.”
“Come on, the apartment isn't that big.” Get up to kiss her goodbye. ”Hurry back. There should be plenty of sun left and I wanna see the sun shine on your face with my cock in it.��
Open your laptop on your coffee table and promise to yourself that you’ll finish editing that teaser. It’s just a little distraction when you pore over videos you worked on recently, just reviewing your work to get ideas for how to cut. However, like a good and fully whipped man, one thing leads to another, one Dreamcatcher music video later—you’re proud of working on that one—and you’re back to the fancams of your girlfriend dancing. A similar, but less revealing crop-top, brief black shorts that strut the beautiful width of her thighs that you live between. Losing much weight, they’re still ample enough to stifle your cock on their own, without her amazing pussy’s help. Your erection should be exhausted but it returns at the sight of the jiggling. Two hands begin their work as Fly High plays.
A fluffy red jacket slams into your head. “You slob, put some clothes on!”
“What are you doing home?”
“Look at all the snow! What are you doing naked?”
“It’s my apartment, dang it! You know I’m naked all the time.” Didn’t mean to raise your tone there but she looks a touch distressed. You run up to her and give her a heavy drawn-out embrace.
“Babe,” she says, a little reluctant in the hug.
“I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”
“No babe, it’s fine.”
“I was jerking it to you if it helps.”
“That doesn’t help, stupid. You’re gonna get this dress messy!” Gahyeon grabs your dick which leaks some precum. She bites her lip.
“Oh, sorry,” you say. You back off and retrieve the parka that fell on the floor and from all its pockets spill condoms like a deck of cards and a bad hand.
“Holy shit,” Gahyeon says. Whatever minute ire that remains burns away at her adorable laughter mixing with yours.
“Fuck, imagine if someone caught you with those.”
“Shit. Yoobin almost put her hand in my pocket for no reason.”
“Nah, she would’ve laughed just as hard.”
“You’re right.” Gahyeon bends down to pick the condoms up and you take your sweet time to help her. “We haven’t used these in so long,” she says.
“You wanna? Old time’s sake? Ha, fuck no.” Feeling bad for making her do all that work to appreciate her ass even in the baggiest pants possible, you spank her. Wait, that’s not the solution. ”You should change first. I’ll clean up.”
There’s grey shorts and a plain white shirt in the dryer, so grab them. Gahyeon returns with her hair in twin buns, a short pink skirt and a white long sleeve half-shirt that manages to show off her cleavage from the top and the bottom.
“I hope that’s not a stage outfit.”
“Of course not. I just wanted to look more like a dumb slut for your dick.”
And with that, thoughts empty. As she crawls towards you, grab a wad of her hair. “So it’s like that today. Well shit, good job.”
“Thank you!” Only the corners of Gahyeon’s lips turn. “A good toy only has one purpose.”
Fulfill that purpose and shove her head down to its rightful place. Gahyeon takes a single stroke into her throat, with nary a sound as she takes the entire length into her practice throat, but she pulls her lips back up to your cockhead. “You’ll be good there?” you say.
“Mhm,” she says with her usual mouthful.
You get a bit of video cutting done for an hour or so with her lips on your cock head, occasionally patting her head. Occasional moans slip out but you keep focused and erect at the same time. At some point during your work, you offer her one of your earphones to listen to your synthwave music. Despite maintaining an enthusiastic hold on your tip, Gahyeon looks a little tired from kneeling so long.
“Aww, baby, do your knees hurt?”
“Mm, I’m fine,” she mumbles while keeping her lips on your tip.
“Why are you pouting a little then?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, come here.”
Stoop to give her a passionate, drawn-out kiss, though it always turns out the same. You realize how long you could do nothing but make out with your girlfriend. You love the way Gahyeon competes with you, where your tongues battle and you each threaten to suck the air out of each other’s lungs. It’s impossible to keep your heart’s pace steady and you’d be remiss for your hands not to dig into every inch of her skin as she wanders the same on you.
Of course, there’s only one place those hands could lead to. Smack. You swear her ass ripples. “Now get back to sucking slut.”
You wipe the drool off your face but you interrupt her doing the same; she looks good messy. Gaheyon lays on the couch with her head on your lap. You can’t see her face but if she needs to get a better angle to watch Knowing Bros, then so be it. Her lips fasten your cock just the same. She sticks her ass up and a reflective circle seals her asshole.
“Where’d you get that?”
“Friend got it for Christmas, secret Santa.”
“Bora?”
“Mhmmmm-” Gahyeon draws out the vibration of the last consonant on your cock.
A couple of hours later, you finish your work and send emails. Once in a while you stroke her hair but she gives more suction in response, sending you ever closer to release. How greedy of her, she’s certainly swallowed enough cum just from premature singular pulses but Gahyeon doesn’t stop when you lay down the law and slap her ass.
“Whose turn is it. huh?”
Every hit of her ass emboldens her sucking, as she goes deeper.
“So you wanna be a brat? I said, whose turn is it!”
She gags for the first time in a while, spewing much spit, when you pull slowly but abruptly on the shiny buttplug after slapping her ass a final time. Lube spills out.
Gahyeon breathes heavy breaths on your cock. “Fuck. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Woah. Now that’s new.”
“I guess it just came out naturally. Sir.” She licks up the froth on your cock.
“I don’t mind if you say it.” You circle her asshole with your finger and taste the lube. Sugary but you can’t think of the flavor. Not that you can think of much of anything.
“Only if you call me ma’am when it’s my turn.”
“Deal.”
“Thank you sir.”
She keeps your cock snug in her mouth. Browse your phone and decide to get some Jjamppong delivered, perfect for the cold.
“Gahyeon? Babe?”
Was she really? Incredible. She manages to doze off with a cock filling her mouth. That’s new. For all the times you’ve fallen asleep during tantric sex, it’s always been inside her pussy or asshole. How she incessantly drools while her head wriggles nearly makes you unload on her unconscious tongue but you hold it in, allowing only a few spurts to leak.
Unfortunately, you have to wake her up when you get the order from the door. You have to get some final work done but she eats dinner, sitting your dick. Your laptop is on her lap while you rest your chin on her neck. Tickled, Gahyeon giggles in between slurps of noodles. The lack of movement agonizes both of you but it keeps you focused. You could spend all day fucking each other; in fact, you have.
The winter sunset lights your room the colors of candy like artificial strawberry and sweet tangerines, though snow still storms down to desaturate the world. You’ve had enough productivity for one day. Gahyeon shares the soup with you, but after she sets the bowl down, she twists her hips in a quick motion and you explode without warning. Five or six? It’s only a curt removal of your soul from existence but you puff and pant anyway.
“Fuck, I’m sorry sir. I should’ve warned you.”
“It’s fine.”
“But I can’t let this cum go to waste, can I?” At some point during your orgasm, she withdrew herself and now she’s licking up and down your soft shaft to clean any cum that you didn’t shoot inside. “Damn, I just wanted to get my vibrator.”
“It’s okay Gahyeon, get it. I. I definitely need some time to recover.”
“I guess even you have your limits.” She grins, then leaves for the bedroom.
Gahyeon returns and a loop of a pink wire sticks out from her pussy. Now the only thing she wears is that thin strip of a top. Take off your shirt to match. “The egg this time?” you say.
She nods. “Here’s the remote.”
Get your Switch and play some Smash while she washes some dishes and organizes clothes that she’s brought over. Apparently you mix your clothes with hers often, which shouldn’t be such an issue considering how different your sizes are. Every time you lose a game, you turn on the vibrator for a few moments. You get a kick out of watching her buckle. If only you could do this while she performs live.
“You wanna head to the bedroom? It’s getting dark, uff.” A quick press of the highest setting and Gahyeon’s knees knock together. It never takes too long for you to get hard again when you see her put all effort into standing. “You- Ahhh, fuck, I love you. I hate you.”
Maybe it’s because you have yet to turn the intensity down. With a full hand on her ass and the other on her back, carry her to the bedroom but her wriggling hobbles you. An early left turn.
“I already showered earlier. Sir, please I’m getting so sensitive.” Gahyeon rotates through many different faces, from agony to excitement to pleasure.
Set her down in the hot tub and her crop-top lands in the laundry basket perfectly.
“Nice throw.” Gahyeon high-fives you. She almost distracted you with that great throw. “Tsk. You’re still keeping that vibrator in you. Just what you deserve for making me cum when I didn’t even finish eating.”
Your apartment is relatively small for its price, but there were certainly no expenses spared for the bathroom. Both your shower and your jacuzzi could fit three people. It has the biggest panes of glass and provides no privacy but you love the ambiance especially during a night shower. Gahyeon’s moaning goes from having a quick rhythm to intense, long held notes. She’s playing with herself in any way that she can to make her climax, manically stroking her clit while she teases pulling the metallic plug in her ass. Turn off the lights and cocoa candles fill the scent of the room. Finally, remove her vibrator and buttplug.
“So fucking yummy. Come here,” you say, holding her neck carefully as you get in the tub to crash your lips into hers. After what feels like hours of kissing even if it is only a few minutes, you lay down in the hot-tub and Gahyeon straddles your thighs.
“So which is going to be?” She glances next to the sink. ”Guess the lube isn’t for my pussy. Wait, why’d you turn on the water? It’s gonna wash away the lube. Woah, isn’t it my turn-”
When you pull her groin up to your face, extra force on her clit shuts her up and nearly instantly drives her to orgasm. Gahyeon always grabs your hair and locks her legs together when you make her cum with your tongue but especially after all the stimulation of the vibrator, you have difficulty breathing. It’s worth it. She whimpers as your lips work relentlessly on her pussy but you settle down after a while. Hot jets of water blast on your back along with her legs. Gahyeon continues riding your face while she talks about her performance. Apparently the snow had a lot of the production people hold up. She brings a dewfall and you could taste her syrup forever but your cock aches once again. Maybe it’s asking you to chill out and that it needs a break, but if that were true, it wouldn’t be as hard as ever.
“I’ve had enough of your pussy today,” you say.
“Really sir? Didn’t know that was possible.” Gahyeon needs no directions, your tongue licking up her body as your hands pull her last garment away.
“Siri, play relaxing radio. I’m staying in your ass until I cum.”
The middle of an R&B chorus plays. You get up to take the lube and Gahyeon drains the tub until only a little water remains. Her fingers wander and she vigorously rubs her clit while a curious thumb circles her asshole. Take a glob of the vanilla flavored lube and spread it on your fingers. Gahyeon sucks on your index, which goes straight to her asshole. Its wetness helps the tight ring expand slowly around it and the familiar pucker on your finger excites you. Get underneath her so that she’s laying on top of you while you sit back against the tub.
“God. I’m never getting used to how big you are.”
There it is. The tip of your cock vanishes into her tight asshole and you try to hold in a high whine, though Gahyeon lets out plenty of squeals as lube makes the entrance slick, squishy noises. Let her ass sink in with only her weight and it wraps down your shaft inch by throbbing inch. At last. She’s all the way down. If only you could see her face, but the position is comfortable and you get the pleasure of sucking on her neck while playing with her tits from behind.
The glow from the moon finds an angle into your room, mixing candle flame yellows with its white. Fierce winds push the falling snow outside of your window sideways. You’re warm nonetheless.
Midnight, the radio says as a new host talks about the inclement weather, but it’s not enough to keep you from kissing up and down Gahyeon’s back. Play with her nipples and the miniscule action not only gets them hard, but makes her ass’s folds react and roll to the pleasure. The breeze blows, a more important sound manages to distract you.
“Sir, do you hear that?” Gahyeon says.
“Yeah!” You hum along to the melody of Jazz Bar. “Hey, that’s you singing.”
“It’s not even one of our title tracks. I have to tell the members.”
Gahyeon almost gets up from her but her head turns and shakes, realizing your thickness twitching as she almost fully unsheathes her ass. “Fuck.”
“Hold on. What’d I tell you?”
“Oh shit. Sorry. Sir. I can tell them later.”
“You know what. Just for that.” Pick her up, holding her thighs carefully to keep your cock in her asshole. The position is awkward, but you manage to lay her down prone without withdrawing your erection.
“God, I love the way your cock hits.” All agreements and contracts are lost when you look at how the fat and muscle collects in Gahyeon’s full ass. A single thrust in and you can see the weight of the smack of your groin on her cheeks, so you endeavor to learn more about physics, even during the snow day. Slam into her and as you go in and out, Gahyeon yells and swears louder and louder, threatening to let all the neighbors know. No, of course they already know. It makes your eye contact with them hilariously awkward and it makes Gahyeon’s mask and disguise even more necessary.
“What a bad girl,” you say with a powerful shove. ”Can’t even be a good cockwarmer, god.” Plunge and dive, your cock tries its best to widen her asshole but no matter what, it strangles your shaft taut. “Your butthole is just too. Fucking. Tempting.”
“Yes! Yes! Sir please, I’m going to- I’m just about to. Fuck. Shit I was so close.”
Chuckle at seeing her distraught face. “I’m getting some beer. Also, I want to finish in the bedroom. More comfy.”
She takes a minute to find her breathing but she gets up and grabs the lube. “Don’t have work tomorrow?” Gahyeon says.
“Lemme check.” When you both get to the bedroom, you check your phone. Nothing til noon. Perfect. Grab some beer in the minifridge in the corner of the room, while Gahyeon fixes her hair and lays down on the bed. She pats the mattress with both hands next to her. Missionary, it is then.
A hand to her chin. “Wait a second, didn’t you say you weren’t leaving my ass until you came. Hmm,” Gahyeon says. She gives a quick smooch and smiles naughtily. You could stare at her lips upturning all day. It’s her signature weapon.
Take a sip of the bottle of Cass. “What are you gonna do about it?” She digs her nails into your back to pull you and your cock finds the purchase of her asshole anew. In between thrusting motions, you take bigger swigs of the beer and offer some to her. She spills a bit on her tits and you lick it up. Suck on her tits as she pounds her ass into your erection.
“Stretch me out, fuck me harder. Harder, sir!”
“God, mmmm, ugh., ugh.” Can’t speak much anymore. Both of you love dirty talk, Gahyeon especially knows how to whisper to tickle your ear but she also knows how to scream to get your instinctive side out. You hold her neck as you hold the bottle, careful and secure. Her tightly drawn anus responds the same as her pussy when you choke her, as they each try frenetically to wring you dry. However, the friction of her ass, even with all the lube, arouses your cock harder somehow. This is the life you chose, in a way the most tiring work you could ever imagine.
Gahyeon grabs tighter and her whole body ripples at the force that you both put in. Not a single qualm about your lifestyle. Any pretense of space between you two is gone as every inch of your skin slaps against each other. A final gulp from the bottle.
“Right there, right there, yes sir, baby. Cum with me!”
There isn’t much of you left but it’s still a flash freeze, a blizzard and pouring hail slamming into you when you cum, and she shakes doubly so in her orgasm as she’s had double yours today. The throb of your shaft doesn’t match the squeezing rhythm of her sphincter and inner walls which makes your cock spurt with more intensity than you could think possible, even bearing your stamina. Your sticky semen replaces the slippery lube inside her ass but you didn’t need its stickiness to slow your rhythm as your dick gets softer. You let minutes pass anyway to feel her muscles react to the load sloshing around and so that it’s not as difficult to extricate your softness from her greedy butthole, though it takes a slow removal anyway with its tightness. Both of you limp over and Gahyeon is fast asleep, but you scramble to return the buttplug and keep the cum inside.
“Keep warm! It’s going to be like this all winter. Tomorrow, it’ll be a high of -5 and a low of -20 and that snow will keep piling up-” Turn down the volume so that it’s not muted but soft enough that you can hear the wind howl past your windows just as loud. Nothing amazes you more than the tiny idol asleep and cutely snoring while her pussy throttles your shaft. Looking at Gahyeon’s ass and feeling her shake it as you try to fall asleep, something tells you it’ll be the warmest winter you’ll ever have.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
AFF, AO3
Something quick with my favorite kink for my second favorite in Dreamcatcher. Also got a draft for my ultimate bias but that’ll take time as well. Woops, yet another thing to procrastinate on while I shirk on both real life and writing.
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My Everything - Part One
A Take it Slow Sequel
What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.
Warnings: Fluff and Smut.
a/n: I only proofread like half of this so keep that in mind.
Masterpost
“I love you so much, Y/N. Can we have this adventure forever? Will you marry me?”
Harry was down on one knee in front of you, holding up the ring he had gotten for you. You both had tears running down your cheeks. Happy tears of course. You beam at him and try to get the words out.
“Oh, Harry.” You squeeze the hand of his you’ve been holding the entire time. “Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you!”
He smiles big at you and slips the ring on your finger. He stands up, wraps his arms around your waist and swings you around. He sets you down, dips you, and kisses you. Your hands lace through his hair and you kiss him back. He sets you back straight and rests his forehead against yours.
“I love you so much, Harry.”
“I love you too, thank you for sayin’ yes.” You can’t help but laugh.
“Did you think I’d say no?”
“No…but I nearly wet myself anyway.” He hooks his arm around your waist. “Alright, Nan, come on out.”
Your face lights up even more when you see your Nannie and Buster come out from behind one of the trees. Louis comes out as well, and your jaw drops.
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t have this documented did you?”
“I…I’m so overwhelmed.” You give Louis a big hug.
“Filmed it and took pictures.” He gives Harry a hug as you hug your grandmother.
“You knew about all this?” You ask her as she helps wipe your tears away.
“Of course I did. When he called me and told me he wanted to marry you, and ask you here, he told me he wanted me here too. We were trying to figure out the best weekend to do it, and when I realized when the New Year was, I knew that would be the perfect excuse for me to come up here.” She takes yours hand and looks at the ring. “Jesus, this is just gorgeous, well done.” She says to Harry.
“Thanks for all your help.” He gives her a hug.
“I can’t wait to tell everyone tomorrow.”
“You’re not gonna call everyone yeh know? El did that like two seconds after she said yes.” Louis laughs.
“No, I just wanna enjoy the moment.” You walk around the playground. “I can’t get over these lights.”
“Someone’ll come take ‘em down too.” Harry says.
“Let me take some more pictures, yeah?”
You stand with Harry so Louis can take some shouts. He takes a close up of your hand over his to really showcase the ring. You take one of you and your grandmother, and one of the three of you. Lastly, you take some with you, Harry, and Buster.
“Alright, what do you kids say to some ice cream?” Nannie asks.
“I think that’s a great idea.” You hold Harry’s hand as you walk.
The four of you enjoy an ice cream. Louis drives your grandmother back so Harry can ride in your car with you. He of course insisted to drive.
“Where’s El and the baby?”
“Oh, they’re both home. Lou drove in today for this. He’s gonna spend the night at Niall’s and then drive back early tomorrow. Niall knew about all this by the way. I only told a couple of people. And I had a drink with your dad last night.”
“You did?!”
“Yeah.” He puts his hand on your thigh. “This is a really pretty dress, don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear it before.”
“Thanks, babe.” You put your hand over his. “What did my dad say?”
“He’s excited for you to send him a picture of you wearin’ the ring.”
“Wow, I’ll send him a picture tomorrow then.” You look down at it. “Where did you even get this?”
“I designed it online from that store in London we both like. Picked it up this summer.”
“You’ve had this since July?!”
“Mhm.”
“Where were you hiding it?!”
“At work.”
“And your mum and sister know?”
“I need to call the both of them to let them know I finally asked, but Gem was with me when I picked it up. They’ve known.”
“I can’t believe how much you planned this out…I feel so special.”
“Well, you are special, Y/N.”
“God, you’re gonna make me cry again.” You gasp. “Is that why you insisted she and I get our nails painted? For the pictures?”
“I didn’t know how much you’d care, but I-“ You lean across and kiss his cheek.
“You really thought of everything, thank you. I can’t wait to watch the video later. I want that right away.”
“Lou’s gonna come in and load everything onto my computer, don’t worry.”
You wrap your arms around his and lean your head on his shoulder for the rest of the drive.
“I can’t believe we’re engaged. You’re my fiancé, Harry.”
“And you’re mine. Oh! I almost forgot, I got the ring engraved, take a look.”
You slip it off and squint at it.
“My everything…oh my god, Harry.” You sniffle as you slip it back on. “That’s so sweet.” He kisses your hand.
“Glad you like it, darlin’.”
“I love it.”
//
Louis loads the video and pictures onto Harry’s laptop. You couldn’t stop watching the moment. It kept bringing tears to your eyes. You were so thankful you’d always have this moment to look back on. You give Louis a hug before he heads across the street to Niall’s.
“If you kids wanna go see Niall, don’t feel like you need to babysit me.” Nannie says.
“He’ll be over tomorrow. All our friends are coming over for dinner. It’s weird, but I don’t really wanna celebrate with anyone just yet. I wanna keep this moment ours a little longer.”
Nannie gives you both a hug and kiss goodnight. You were pretty tired too, and you also just wanted to cuddle alone with Harry.
“Wanna get into bed?” You ask him.
“Yeah.”
You both say goodnight to Buster and go into the bedroom. You both go into the bathroom, you close the door and turn the fan on. You lean back against the door and look at him.
“What?”
“I…I need your dick in my mouth.” Both of Harry’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Babe, your Nan-“
“For five minutes, just forget she’s here. I need to suck on it.” He can feel his cock twitch. “You look so handsome, and I just wanna feel close to you right now, physically. So can I?”
“Yes.”
“Can you sit up on the counter so I don’t have to get on my knees?”
Harry smirks and sits up on the sink counter. You stride over to him and stand between his legs.
“You know I love these pants on you.”
“Mhm, that’s why I wore ‘em.”
He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you. You press your hands on his thighs as you lean into the kiss. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth and you moan softly. You start to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper. You reach into his pants and palm him through his boxers. You groan when you feel how hard he already is. You take it out and lick your lips. You grip him with your left hand and smile.
“Looks pretty, doesn’t it?” You look up at him smirking.
“You’re gonna get it all dirty.” The tone of concern doesn’t match the grin on his face.
“I’ll be real careful.”
You spit into your right hand and use that to pump him up and down as your left hand dips further into his boxers to cup his balls. You dip your head down and suckle on his tip as you continue to work his shaft. His head rolls back as you sinker further down on him. You place both your hands flat on his upper thighs and you squeeze gently. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck as he thrusts into you a little. You gag on him for a moment, but it passes. You swallow around him and he groans. Your left hand drags up his torso and finds itself at the base of his throat. You rub your thumb over his Adam’s apple, and then you get a good grip on him. You look up at him quick to make sure it’s okay, and he looks down at you. The look in his hooded eyes tells you it’s all good, and you go back to giving him an absolutely sloppy blowjob. But you knew he liked it like this. What was sexy about a clean blowjob?
You had spit dripping down your chin, but you didn’t care. All you could focus on was the way Harry’s cock was twitching in your mouth. Your grip on his throat had to be sending him with the way he was fucking into your throat. You try to bob up and down on him with the same rhythm. In a swift motion he grabs you by the back of your dress and yanks you off of him.
“Hey.” You whine. “I wasn’t done.” He grabs your hand and take it off his throat.
“Yeah, and neither am I.” He hops of the counter, and lets his pants drop the rest of the way. He steps out of them. “I’d like to-“
“I got my period this morning.” You pout. “You can come on my-“
“I don’t really give a fuck about your period, Y/N. I’ll put the towel on the floor for us to stand over.”
“Please, it’s gonna be so gross, and-“
“I’d really like to fuck my fiancé.” He caresses your cheek. “Can I please do that?”
“Okay, but I’m lighting a candle, and you need to leave the bathroom for a second so I can…clean myself up.”
“Fine.”
He waits outside the door until you’re ready. Your panties were off but your dress was still on. Your legs were clamped to together. You put the towel on the floor like he said. He grips your hips and turns you around.
“Please use the condom.” He sees the foil packet on the sink counter. He rolls his eyes and grabs it. “Thank you.”
“Mhm.” He mumbles while he rolls it on.
He lifts your dress and bunches it around your hips. He slides into you easily, just like he thought he would. He looks in the mirror and sees your face all scrunched up.
“Is it that uncomfortable for you? I can’t do this if you’re not going to enjoy it.”
“No, I just don’t like looking at myself in the mirror…and it’s a little gross.” You open your eyes to look at him through his reflection. “How do you not think this is gross?”
“Just feels like you’re really wet, that’s all.” He says into your ear.
“Jesus.” You take a deep breath. “I’m good, go ahead, I want you to.”
“Are you sure, we don’t have to…”
“No, I really do want to. I wanna fuck my fiancé too.” You smile reassuringly.
He sighs happily and starts to move. Your head rolls back against his shoulder. It did feel really good, and you really did want it. You wanted him the second you saw him standing there at the playground. He rocks in and out of you and you try really hard not to make a lot of noise. You look down at the beautiful ring on your finger, and you’re still amazed he got your style down to a T. You were really engaged, someone genuinely wanted to marry you. You hook your arm up behind him to grip at his hair. He peppers kisses on your jaw and neck. He was close already, you could tell. He reaches one of his hands around to rub your clit, but you swat it away.
“No, that’s too gross.”
“So, I’ll wash my hands after. Lemme rub that litte-“
“Okay, okay, go ahead.”
Your face is completely flushed, and you whimper when he starts to rub circles on you.
“Fuck.” You groan.
“Like that, babe?”
“Yes, shit, Harry.”
You weren’t going to last much longer yourself. He spills into the condom just as you’re getting your release. You both stay there for a moment before he pulls out.
“Barely anything on here, you had nothin’ to worry about.” He throws the condom away and kisses you quick before washing his hands.
“Still yucky.” You sit on the toilet and clean yourself up.
You grab a pad and some underwear. Harry leaves to give you some privacy. You get into bed with him and sigh.
“I don’t wanna take it off, but I’m afraid it’ll get lost while I’m sleeping.”
“I could get you a little ring dish like how I have for mine, then you’d have a nice, safe spot for it.”
“You know, I think I have one of those packed away somewhere. I can look for it tomorrow.” You reluctantly take the ring off and set it on your night table. “I love you.” You kiss him and settle on your side.
“I love you too.” He turns over and you slot a leg between his so you can spoon him properly. You hear him laughing to himself.
“What is it?”
“Nothin’, I’m just excited. We’re engaged.” He looks at you over his shoulder and you smile at him.
“Yeah, we are.”
//
The next morning you get up and take a shower with Harry. You put your ring back on the second you got up. You both admired it as you stood there in the water.
“It really is beautiful, Harry.”
“I saw you lookin’ at a similar style when we first went to that store together. Noticed on the other few rings you have that you prefer a thicker band too.”
“Why the three diamonds? I feel sorta bad, this must’ve been really expensive.”
“The one diamond just looked weird to me. Plus…it’s like our little family, you, me, and Buster.”
“Oh, Harry.” You turn to face him and wrap your around his neck. “You always think of every little detail.” He puckers his lips and you happily kiss him.
After another few minutes you both get out. He leaves you to dry your hair, and so he can take Buster out. Your grandmother was sitting in the kitchen, sipping on some coffee. Harry made sure to have his joggers and a t-shirt on this time.
“Buster.” Harry whistles to him, and sets some food in his bowl. Then he goes to make his own coffee. “Sleep well, Nan?”
“Yes, dear, thank you.” She smiles. “Ahem.”
“Oh!” He walks over to her and gives her a good morning kiss.
“Don’t worry, you’ll catch on soon.” She laughs. “Where’s Y/N?”
“She’s just blow drying her hair. I’m gonna take him out in a minute, just wanted to let him eat.” She hums her response. She watches as Harry sips on his coffee.
“My granddaughter made us all breakfast and coffee yesterday.”
“Yeah, she does it every day f’me, it’s really nice.”
“So…”
“So?”
“So, don’t you think it would be nice for her to come out to some coffee before you take that little prince out for a walk?”
Both of his eyebrows raise. He was ready to give her some smart remark, like how you both take turns making coffee, or that there are plenty of other things he does for you, but he decides against it. Instead he just grabs your favorite mug, favorite coffee, and presses the K-cup into the machine for it to brew.
“Good boy.” She smiles.
He shakes his head and whistles to Buster to follow him out. You come into the kitchen shortly after and smile when you see your coffee made with your creamer already in it.
“Morning, Nannie.” You give her a kiss and sit down next to her with your coffee.
“Does he do that for you often?”
“Oh sure. We take turns a lot. I tend to cover breakfast more often though just because I get up earlier than he does. He makes dinner a lot of the time. He’s a really good cook.”
“Well that’s nice.” She looks down at your ring. “Even better in the daylight, huh? Look at the size of that thing.” She points to the middle diamond.
“I know, it’s a lot bigger than I was expecting. Like, it’s still modest, but it certainly isn’t tiny. Makes me a little uneasy knowing he probably spent a lot of money on it.”
“Don’t be uneasy, honey. You’re more than worth every penny. Besides, if he wants to spend his money on you, let him.”
“But I don’t want him thinking my affection can be bought.”
“I’m sure he knows that.”
“He’s always getting me jewelry and stuff. Like these earrings, and my watch.”
“Again, let him if he wants to. If it makes him happy to get you those things, let him be happy.”
“I suppose it makes sense, I love buying him stuff too. Like the pearls he wears? Got him those for his birthday, and he was so happy he cried. He never takes them off, same for the ring I got him.”
“Didn’t he get you that nice chain for the ring you wear too?”
“Mhm.” You twist it between your fingers. “He’s very thoughtful.”
You both finish up your coffees. Neither of you wanted to eat much with all the food you’d be having later. You preheat the oven, and get the brisket re-set up. Harry comes back with Buster.
“God, it smells so good in here. I can’t wait to eat that kugel later.” He kisses you on the cheek and peaks into the oven.
“A lot of stuff is warming up in there.”
Nannie is getting string beans together, cutting off the ends and throwing them into a pot.
“When’s everyone comin’?”
“A little later this afternoon.” He nods and looks at your grandmother.
“Want me to do that, Nan?”
“No, honey, I can do it thank you. Why don’t you set the folding table set up next to the dining table, and set up the folding chairs too.”
“Sure thing.”
He goes out and does so. He even puts the table cloths on so it looks nice. He comes into the kitchen.
“I just realized we don’t have, like, nice plates to put everything on.”
“It’s okay, we’re just going to use those sturdy paper ones we have so we can throw everything away later.”
“Besides, nice plates are things you can put on your wedding registry.” Nannie winks at the both of you.
“Good point.” He says and grabs all the paper plates out of the cabinet. “Do you want these like set on the table, or do you wanna leave all that in here like a buffet?”
“Let’s leave it like a buffet, but if you want you can stick the wine and the wine glasses on the table and the bread. Easy stuff like that.”
“Alright.”
You go out to the dining area and approve of how Harry put everything.
“Suppose I should get dressed.” You say to him.
“Same here.”
Harry follows you into the bedroom. You pick out a nice pair of capris to wear with a cute top. Harry decides on some loose fitting, but nice jeans, and a short-sleeve button up. The apartment smelled amazing, and you were happy with how everything looked. Nannie was sitting with Buster on the sofa and you loved being able to have her here with you.
There’s a knock on the door, you assume it’s Niall since he has a key to your place. Harry opens the door and sure enough, it’s Niall and Sarah.
“Shana tova!” Sarah says to you, and you say it back giving her a hug. “I brought over some extra challah.”
“Oh thank you so much! My Nannie’s over there.”
“Nannie!” Sarah squeals.
“Sometimes I forget that Sarah and Rachel are Jewish too.” Harry says to Niall.
“I know, technically Sarah’s only half, but her mom is the one that’s Jewish so they just went by her.”
“I’ve heard that’s how it goes.”
“Niall.” Your Nannie says with a smile. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too.” He gives her a hug and a kiss.
“So, you snatched up this lovely young lady?”
“That’s right. Y/N introduced us almost a year ago.” He smiles at Sarah. “We just moved in together.”
“That’s great! How did you meet?”
“Um…we were having a girl’s night, and the boys came.” You explain. “Is Rach on her way?”
“Yeah, her and Mariah should be here soon.”
“When’s your family gettin’ here?” Niall asks.
“You know them, never on time.” You roll your eyes.
“They’d all be late to their own funerals.” Nannie says, making everyone laugh. “So, Rachel has a new girlfriend, that’s nice.”
“Yeah, it’s Harry’s friend and coworker, Mariah. She’s really nice.”
“Look you all, setting each other up with friends.”
Rachel and Mariah show up a few minutes later and greet everyone.
“Can I ask you somethin’?” Harry says to Rachel.
“Mhm, what’s up?”
“Remind me, you all met at an even for Jewish students on your campus?”
“So, Y/N and Kate met first because they were roommates freshmen year. Sarah and I both had random roommates. I met Y/N at a film club meeting, and then we all met Sarah at a Jewish students meeting. I think they put on an event for the new year. Then Y/N and Sarah roomed together sophomore year and I roomed with Kate because we couldn’t all get an apartment yet, and we wanted the chance to live with other people. Then obviously I went to California with Y/N, so Kate and Sarah lived together. Then our junior and senior year all four of us lived together. That’s how we met Seth too.”
“Seth’s Jewish?”
“Um…Seth is a very Jewish name.” Rachel laughs.
“So, Y/N could’ve ended up with a Jewish guy, and she chose not to?”
“Harry…it would be really fucking weird to date someone solely on the fact that you’ve both been chosen.”
“What?”
“Have you never heard that before? The Jewish people are the chosen people.” She chuckles. “Anyways, I thought you were over being jealous of Seth?”
“I was never jealous of him in the first place…I just still can’t believe she’s really choosing me over anyone else.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Uhhhh.”
“Hey everybody, before my family gets here, I just wanted to share something with you, especially since you all were too oblivious to notice when you first walked in.” You smile and stick out your left hand.
The girls squeal and race over to hug you. Mariah gives Harry a hug. Niall hugs you next, and slap his shoulder.
“And you knew the entire time.”
“You did?!” Sarah slaps him too.
“Oi, I was sworn to secrecy! I’m really happy for you both.”
“Look at the size of this thing, Jesus, Harry.” Rachel says to him.
“I thought it was pretty modest.” He says.
“It’s perfect.” Sarah says. “Just beautiful.”
“How did it all go down?”
“Why don’t I show you? Louis filmed the whole thing and he took pictures. Harry, grab your laptop for me.”
He does so and you all sit on the sofa to watch.
“That’s why he stayed with us last night?” Sarah asks Niall.
“Well, yeah.”
“Sneaky.”
You all watch the video and the girls tear up, and so does Harry.
“That was so beautiful! Does your family know yet?” Sarah asks.
“Nope, you guys are the first people I’ve told. Once they all get here we’re going to announce it. Oh! Apparently my dad knows, so I should send him a picture of the ring. I need to text him Happy New Year anyways.” You take your phone and snap the shot to send him.
“What do you think they’ll say?” Rachel asks.
“I think they’ll be very happy for her.” Nannie says. “These two already have a good set up, it all just makes sense.”
“Do you think Erica’s gonna get annoyed?” Sarah asks.
“I really don’t care. She’s been with him for ten years, it’s not my fault they just got engaged a few months ago. They’ve set a date for next summer, so that’ll be when that happens for them. I’m really not too worried about it.”
“Lou and El’s wedding is gonna be next summer too. We’ll be busy.” Niall says.
You hear the buzzer for your door. Harry gets up to let your family in. Everyone sort of showed up at once. Your mom, Bridget, Erica, Kyle, Lily, Michael, your aunt and uncle, your great aunt and uncle, and your cousins with your kids. Everyone was really happy to see your Nannie.
“Excuse me, everyone!” You say as everyone gets settled after greetings. “Before we sit down to dinner we have an announcement to make. Last night, Harry asked me to marry him.” There were gasps all around. “And I said yes!” You hold your hand out so everyone can see, and there were tons of cheers and squeals and hugs and kisses. Your mother was in tears, happy ones.
You show them all pictures, wanting to keep the video a little more private. You could show your mom later. Everyone was really happy for all of you.
“This is amazing! Two of my daughters engaged in the same year.” Your mom says hugging you. “Please, don’t stress each other out.”
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me, she’s the crazy one.” You laugh.
Once everyone goes through the buffet line in the kitchen, you all sit down at the table. Your great uncle does the blessing over the wine and the bread, and you all dig in. You only took a little piece of brisket, not wanting to upset your stomach. It was just too good to pass up. Harry are the carrots and potatoes that were in the sauce. He at least wanted to try some of it, but there was no way he was going to eat the meat.
“Okay, Y/N, I want the full story.” Erica says. “How’d he do it?”
“Well…I don’t know exactly, I sort of just walked into the scene.” You giggle. “Harry, you tell everyone, you’re the mastermind.”
“Um.” He was just swallowing some food. “Well, at the beginning of the summer we went to Castle Island, and Y/N explained how special that place was to her as a kid. So I spoke with Niall about it a little more, and that’s where I knew it had to be done. And then I called Nan here to see if she could be here for it since we’d be going to the place that was most special to Y/N as a kid. She was the one that recommended we do it this weekend to use the holiday as a cover.” Everyone laughs. “It worked out great, you really had no idea.”
“Clueless.”
“So then I told her I had to work yesterday, but really I was off settin’ everything up. I put up all these lights, and I was actually able to rent out the playground.”
“That’s when I got suspicious that something was happening. I didn’t quite know what, but it was weird that no one was around on such a nice night. And Nannie was so slick, she had me keep walking while she took Buster to the bathroom with her. I’m getting closer to the playground, and I hear our song playing.”
“Which is what?” Your mom asks.
“You Make Me So Very Happy.” You both say the same time, and you both giggle.
“And there he was standing there, and he started his little speech, and then he got down on his knee and he asked me.” You beam at everyone.
“Wow, Harry, a lot of thought and planning really went into that.” Your uncle says.
“She’s always puttin’ so much thought and planning into everything else, thought I’d give it a go.”
“And that ring, my god.” Sarah says. “Sorry, I’m not over it. Did you see it in a shop and just know?”
“There’s a jewelry store in London we went to back in December, and I noticed the styles she was lookin’ at. So I worked with a jeweler online to design it.”
“He’s had it since July!” You say. “Can you believe that? Keeping such a secret from me for so long, and Nannie too! Because when we went away for my birthday, part of my present was him flying her up here.”
“Pretty much made it so she couldn’t say no.” Niall jokes.
After dinner, you get most of the table cleared for all of the different desserts people brought. You were full to the brim. Everyone was having such a wonderful time, it was nice to have your entire family over. You also felt even more comfortable having all your friends there.
Eventually everyone leaves, and you’re able to just lounge on the sofa with Harry and Nannie.
“You did great honey, good hosting.”
“Thanks, Nannie.” You look at Harry. “Well, should we update our Facebook statuses?”
“Think it’s about that time. You’re not gonna post the video are you?”
“No, just some of the pictures.”
“Okay.” He kisses the top of your head and you both update your Facebooks.
“Holy shit!”
“What?”
“It’s blowing up!”
“Already?”
“Yeah! Look.”
You show Harry you’re phone. You get tons of likes and comments. Harry was getting them too. His phone starts to go off.
“What the…why is she awake?”
“My sister, excuse me.” Harry stands up to take the call. He goes down the hall to your bedroom.
“Lot of people happy for you on there?” Nannie asks.
“Yeah!” Your phone starts to go off. “Oh my god.”
“What is it?”
“Kate’s calling me…” You sigh. You really didn’t want to answer, but you didn’t want to be rude. “Hello?”
“Hi Y/N…I didn’t want to just send a text…congratulations! You’re engaged, that’s so exciting!”
“Oh, thanks! Yeah, he asked me yesterday.”
“I’m really happy for you…” There’s an awkward pause between the two of you. “How’s everything else going? You never texted me back after I wished you a happy birthday…”
“I know.” You sigh. “I’m sorry about that, I was busy all weekend.”
“So I saw.”
“Things are good, Kate.”
“Things are good with me…I finished school, and I moved-“
“Kate, I appreciate you calling to congratulate me, but…you’re not my friend anymore…you’re not in my life.”
“I thought at some point we would try to be friends again…”
“Just in time for you to be a part of my wedding? Yeah, right. You were such a bridezilla yourself, I don’t need that kind of energy around me. Also, you slapped me, there’s really no coming back from that.”
“I understand, I guess I was just hoping you’d change your mind.”
“Not this time.”
“Sarah and Rachel still won’t talk to me.”
“I never told them not to, I hope you know that. Maybe they just saw your true colors and-“
“You got caught up in my shit, and I took it out on you.”
“By slapping me.”
“As if you hadn’t lunged at me a second before.”
“But I didn’t actually do…you know what? This is pointless. Thank you for congratulating me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” You groan as you hang up. Your phone goes off again.
“Just ignore it honey, it’s getting late.”
“It’s my friend Seth.” You swipe to answer the phone. “Hey.”
“Hey! Congratulations! I’m so excited for you guys, also Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year.” You giggle. “And thanks.”
“You sound tired.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“Why?”
“Kate just called me.”
“Ew.”
“I know!” You stand up just as Harry’s coming back. He sits down where you were.
“Is your sister alright?”
“Yeah, she just got mad because I never sent them the photos so she was like oh my god it was gorgeous, you know? Who’s she talkin’ to?”
“That nasty girl Kate just called, and now she’s talking to someone named Seth.” She shrugs.
“Ah.”
“Wait so what did she say to you?” Seth asks.
“She called to say congrats and then turned it into something about us being friends again…I do feel bad that her three best friends stopped talking to her, but I’ve been so much better without her.”
“She changed for the worse, Y/N, she’s not worth it.”
“I know.” You sigh.
“So, you pick a date yet?” He laughs.
“Ha! Good one. We haven’t exactly had a chance to talk about it. I have no idea how soon you’re supposed to planning all of this stuff.”
“I think you have to find a place you like and see what dates they have available, and then work backwards.”
“Makes sense. How are things with Isaac?”
“They’re still going well.”
“Did he come with you to family dinner?”
“No, I didn’t ask him. It’s a little soon to be bringing him around, you know?”
“Do your parents know you’re seeing him?”
“Oh, sure. I’ll take him to meet them at some point, I just didn’t think an even with my entire family was a good time.”
“Yeah, I get that. Although, the majority of my family met Harry at Thanksgiving.”
“It’s different for me, Y/N. My family is supportive, but it’s still hard to bring a guy around. It’ll be easier in small groups. Isaac hasn’t exactly jumped to have me meet his family either.”
“Right.” You knew Isaac was estranged from his family, but it wasn’t your place to tell Seth that.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your fiancé, I just wanted to say I’m really happy for you.”
“Thanks, Seth.”
You hang your phone up and just turn it off. You appreciated people texting and calling, but you were too tired to respond to anything else.
“I think I’m ready for bed.” You say to them both. “Nannie, we need to be at the airport by 11AM tomorrow.”
“Alright sweetheart.” She yawns and gets up. “Think I’m ready for bed too. Goodnight, precious girl.” She kisses you and Harry and head into the guest room.
“I’m just gonna bring Buster out quick and then I’ll come to bed, babe.” Harry says to you and you nod.
You do your nightly routine and crawl into bed. Harry comes in shortly after and gets into bed with you. You snuggle up close with him and he throws his arm around you.
“How’s my fiancé?” He asks.
“Amazing, how’s mine?”
“Wonderful.”
#my everything#take it slow#take it slow sequel#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles fluff fic#harry styles smut#harry styles smut fic#smut#fluff#yall better come to my inbox after this#and yall better leave tags if you reblog#i need ALL the validation#anyways#enjoy!
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Three Days ~ 87
Emma
Slow dancing and kissing in the middle of the floor had been as perfect of goodbye as a goodbye could be. Sebastian had updated his playlists. There was nothing sexual. Every song was I love you, I've been waiting for you, I'm happy you're mine. Intense love songs. I felt every one. I stayed in the moment, focusing on how good this felt. We held each other, swaying to the music and alternating between my head laying on his shoulder, gazing in the other's eyes, or kissing. We were in our own little bubble. There was nothing but how his body felt against mine, how he smelled, and the look of his face. All I felt was encapsulated in a swirl of feelings. Love, joy, and a touch of sadness hiding on the edge.
The bubble burst with the knock on the door. Time to go. there was no chance of getting through this without tears. Strong emotions always bring tears. I don't fight them. Letting them out feels better. I don't think emotions are anything to be ashamed of or hide. They're also not something to manipulate others with.
At the car, we were both crying. Not holding onto each other sobbing, just tears.
Saying goodbye was hard. His "I love you. I'll miss you. I'll talk to you Later. Send nudes." broke the sadness enough to get the car door closed. I watched him slide away. I wiped away a few more tears before talking myself down. Six weeks was a long fucking time, but it wasn't forever. It would probably feel like it, however.
My solution was to avail myself of the Air France business class lounge. Two shots of tequila and I switched to wine. It went better with the cheese. I was going to have to hit the gym hard when I got home. And eat better. Not today though I was sad and there was free cheese.
As usual, I was asleep before we reached cruising altitude. I woke up with about five hours to go. Fingers crossed that helped with the jet lag. I put on my favorites playlist and read until we landed.
Emma ~ I’ve landed
Sebastian ~ Yay!
Emma ~ Go back to sleep.
Sebastian ~ XOXO
I knew he had an early call time tomorrow. It was only five pm here in New York. Closer to seven by the time I got back to Sebastian's place. I made it long enough to throw a load of laundry into the washer and the cheese into the fridge before crawling into bed. I took over his side of the bed, sniffing the pillows to find the one that smelled most like him. I curled around it and was out.
Five am was the latest my body was going to let me sleep. That was eleven am in France. So too early for New York and kinda late for France. I grabbed my phone to take a sleepy selfie but was distracted by my text notification. Sebastian had sent me a picture of him reclining on a couch, not in our rooms, with Guiletta asleep on his chest.
Sebastian ~ Found someone new to sleep on my chest.
I continued with my original plan to take an up-close picture of my eyes peeking out over the top of his pillow. My hair was a mess, my eyes look half-asleep, and there was a faint pillow crease on my temple. Perfect.
Emma ~ I miss you too
The sun was up with a bright blue sky. Since it was Saturday the traffic at this time of day would be much less. I had a clean pair of shorts, but not a shirt. No problem. My boyfriend had t-shirts. A little big, but perfectly functional. Runners, earphones, keys and I was out the door for an early morning run.
The city was beautiful. sunlight crept around corners and over the tops of shorter buildings. I ran south past the 9-11 memorial to Battery Park. I'd always been fascinated by the metal world with tears and chunks missing. The first time I'd seen I'd said out loud, "It looks like the world blew up." I
guess I wasn't far off. The sculpture had been in the World Trade Center Plaza and been damaged by falling debris. I was only eight and all I remember was my parents being glued to CNN for hours. It would be years later, when I called the city home, before I really understood. As much as a non-native New Yorker could.
The worst thing about running this early was all the stores were closed. The best thing about running this early was all the stores were closed. I admit my shopping had been out of hand. In my defense, it had been a very long time since I'd had someone to dress up for. Don't take that wrong. Beacon dates with a man or friends was an opportunity to dress up. Coming into New York to be with Angie and Eli was a good opportunity. Both opportunities I used well. Still, having a man appreciate what you wear and how you look in it is another level. I know what I look good in. I'm not changing my choices for Sebastian, or any man, but I will take his preferences into account. Shopping right now would be a bad idea. I’m sure I'm packing around a few extra pounds of cheese, bread, and wine. I'm hoping all the walking mitigated some of the damage.
On my way back, a couple of blocks from Sebastian's the city was waking up. More people and sounds. I realized tonight would be the first time I'd been alone in the city in about five years. I made plans to sit in the dark and just listen. I picked up a bagel and a smoothie that I was told would rejuvenate me. I wonder if the barista could tell? I broke into Sebastian's stash of nut butter. Half a bagel with cashew butter the other with almond. Cashew was better.
Being alone in his space is weird. None of my stuff is here. It's like a hotel, but not. I got a little nosey after I'd showered and dressed. Not in a going through his drawers and medicine cabinet nosey. Looking at his DVD and CD collection. Running my fingers down the spines of his books, pulling out ones that caught my interest to thumb through. I made a stack of things I wanted to read. I did go through his kitchen pretty thoroughly. It looks like a single man who travels and eats out a lot lives here. He doesn't have flour. How does one not have flour? He does have quite a condiment collection. I threw out expired things and made a list to replace them. That led me on a short journey to see if there was anything else he was almost out of and added things to the list.
Time to call the best friends. Angie picked up on the third ring, her voice excited to hear from me, "You're home!"
"I’m at Sebastian's. I meet with my advisor Monday."
"I want to see all the pictures and hear all the stories. We're going out tonight. Some friends are playing. You're welcome."
"Can I let you know later? I don't know what the time change is going to do."
"Absolutely. So.... " the paused after dragging out the word, "are you missing him? How was goodbye?"
"Goodbye took forever. Neither of us wanted to let go. At least half a dozen last kisses. Sucked. I miss him, but I'm okay. I'll be fine when I get home and am doing stuff. I've cleaned expired shit out of his kitchen and made a grocery list."
"That's cute. Hope he thinks so."
I hadn't thought about his opinion one way or another. I was just getting rid of shit before it stank up the place. "He won't care."
We talked for a while, deciding we'd do brunch tomorrow.
I was bored. I didn't lack for things to do, but I didn't have a routine here. Especially not without him. It didn't feel like home without him. Once I'd figured that out I was good and went about making myself at home.
I'd changed Sebastian's ringtone from "Dancing Queen" to my favorite part in "Every Time I’m With You." It was near the end after a heavy drumbeat "cause every time I'm with you I feel wanted. We could make believers if we dare. We're just two believers if we dare." It was incredible the first time we'd danced to it and it was incredible now. I heard it about six, midnight in France.
I'd barely registered his face before I heard his voice, "If I put that picture on my laptop and my laptop in the bed, I can pretend it's you."
I felt warm all over and smiled, "Yes, you can. Tell me about the first day of shooting."
"It was good. Long, but good. I'm comfortable with Jess and I like her direction." He told me stories that made me proud and made me laugh. "I did well today. What have you been up to?"
I gave him a quick rundown on my day, leaving the bit about making myself at home until last.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't believe you restocked my kitchen. Thank you. Do whatever you want to feel at home."
"What if I reorganized your drawers because your way doesn't make sense?"
"Have at it. I'll just think I forget and think I did it."
"And your kitchen so it flows better."
He shook his head, "I don't know what that means. Knock yourself out."
I laughed, "I didn't do either."
I loved the lines that formed at the corners of his eyes when he genuinely smiled. Like now, "I don't care what you do. I just want you to feel at home.”
Now we were where I wanted to be, "Here's the thing... my favorite foods in your kitchen, finding where I'm most comfortable to work on my laptop, and figuring out where has the best view when I want to relax with a book are good, but it's not enough. Doing all that did help me figure what's missing."
"What's missing and where can we get it?"
"It's free and I already found it. You make where ever we are home. You're my home."
"I'm your home." He looked a little dazed.
"When you were in my place I felt at home. At your parents, I felt at home. Being at your place with you I was perfectly at home. Paris too. Now I’m back and I did things to feel at home. Took a while until I realized its missing something. You. When I'm with you, wherever we are, I’m home."
I could tell he was processing, by the way his tongue moved, "I like that."
He kept thinking, squinting his eyes a little, "I don't know if you're my home. Not sure where home is. Sometimes I don't feel at home in my own skin. I like that I’m your home." He cringed, "The next couple of weeks are going to suck for you."
I banred out a laugh, "No, once I knew what the issue was I adjusted. I'm good now."
"You don't miss me anymore?"
"Oh, I miss you a lot." Were transitioned into silly conversation.
"Ok, good."
I gasped, "You want me to suffer?"
"Terribly." His eyes were wide as he nodded his head. "So much so that when you see me again you throw yourself into my arms and hold on so tight I can't breathe."
"Therefore making you suffer."
"Yes, please."
I did end up going out with Angie and Eli. Thankfully it was a jeans sort of bar. My hope was if I stayed moving I'd fall over, get a good night's sleep, and get back on New York time. It was a good fun night.
Sunday I took a run before getting ready for Angie to come over. I'd bribed her with her favorite home-cooked meal. I had her take pictures of me in various outfits around his apartment. At one point Angie rolled her eyes, "I can not believe I'm taking pictures of you rolling around in his bed."
"Six weeks, Angie. I suck at selfies. I need a stockpile to pull from."
"What you need is a class in basic photo editing on an iPhone."
"I know."
We went back to her place, stopping for supplies on the way. A few hours later we were feasting on cilantro lime salmon, a creamy garlic parmesan orzo, and a greek salad. I've taught Angie to cook this several times, but she tells me it's never quite right. I think she skimps on the butter and that's a big no. And a healthy splash of the Sauvignon blanc lifts the whole thing a little.
Sebastian and I exchanged texts over the course of the day. A comment or question with stretches of time between answers. Mostly from him. I got excited when an unexpected text came through. His response to my dinner picture was a request for the same meal. Maybe with his parents.
Monday was a busier day. I had to dress like a doctoral student, pack my bags, clean up after myself, and plant surprises like the notes I keep finding in my condo. Mine are more fun. The green g- string from concert night is mixed in with his boxers. A couple of dresses parked next to something they matched well. A peach tank top mixed in with his workout gear. I had Angie take a picture in each room. Printed and framed them. My favorite is me sitting on the toilet. It has a lovely frame and is now on the wall across from the throne. I wanted everything ready for me to leave for home straight from my advisory meeting
My advisory meeting lasted a little over three hours. Three good hours. Dr. Kershaw had been appointed my advisor. I'd taken a class with her while working on my Master's and my second winter in Beacon, but at the time I'd been excited to work with students and studying digital classroom technology was something I wasn't wanting to explore. I wanted to be hands-on molding little minds and still wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I'd enjoyed working on our team's website. Google Classroom was functional but limited by design. Three hours later I had it narrowed down.
Sebastian had texted me good luck this morning with a picture of his face, eyes closed and lips puckered. I'd sent back a picture of my legs, crossed at the ankles with my skirt draped to the side, while sitting in his favorite chair. I was more than halfway home when his ringtone came through my vehicle's speaker. I hit the button, "Hey, baby."
I could hear his smile in his voice, "Sounds like your lunch went well."
"It did!" I was still excited from lunch and the phone call with Angie after. "I like my advisor. There's only ten of us in the program with the plan to add ten more each fall."
"Wow!" He interjected. "So being accepted is even more impressive."
"Yeah." I was proud of myself. "Small and first-year makes everything very personalized. All of the potential classes overlap with other programs. Cognitive theory from Psych, advanced reading from Education, some Education Law and leadership, computer tech, and even game design. We spent a lot of time talking about what I’m passionate about. In the and I’m thinking I want to focus on reading intervention and programming for K-3."
"Which is what you're passionate about."
I laughed, "and you."
"And me. Did you just talk about direction or is there a plan? What coursework did they accept."
"The fifteen hours I've taken will apply. We designed a basic timeline. I've taken six hours the last two years. I'm confident I can handle that with work and having a life. If I want to take more I can. I don't want to take classes in the summer. Those are usually compressed and pretty intense, plus I'm not in a hurry. Somewhere in the middle, I write a thesis, which looks at a problem or a hole in what already exists. That will feed into my dissertation. I can either do research and design an experiment like comparing existing programs or create my own product."
"Any idea which way you want to go?"
"None at all. I figure the thesis will help figure that out."
"And when do I have to start calling you Doctor?" The seductive tone in his voice told me "have to" wasn't going to be a hardship.
"Three to four years. No summers and using the last semester for my dissertation is four. If I add a class in a couple of semesters or summer and do my dissertation concurrently then three. I have to be done in ten. I'm thinking I’ll figure out what I want to do the first two then design and implement the last two. A lot will depend on how long that takes." He couldn't see me, but I was waving a hand in the air. "It will work itself out."
"I love you."
"I love you. Enough me, tell me about your day."
We talked the rest of the way home where we had some fun.
I called Seattle and went through it all again with Ed. He was as excited and proud of me as was Seb. I found it a little sadly ironic that my lover was in a time zone six hours ahead, my family was three hours behind, and the ones in the same time zone weren't going to know for a few days. I didn't trust them to not take away from my accomplishment, neither did Ed, which meant they'd have to wait. Hell, they barely knew I'd been in France. They'd get to know once I was finished celebrating with people who would just be happy for me. That pushed a Georgia phone call off to the weekend after
the volleyball tournament. Maybe after practice tomorrow if I could get my school lunch bunch to come for drinks, I’d even buy. I had no problem funding my own celebration. I just wanted my friends there. Angie and Eli were coming for the weekend. Maybe I'd call while they were here. Eli could make angry faces while Angie tried to scold him. Then either way it went we could drink our way through. That was a good plan. I texted all involved and they agreed.
I ran back out to the grocery for fresh berries, yogurt, and wine to go with my cheese. I bought other good for detox items and healthy foods. A stopped by a smoothie shop for a raspberry white chocolate protein drink. It was amazing how quickly I slid into my summer schedule. Run to the gym to work out. Run home. Have breakfast and practice guitar. Do whatever until it was warm enough to go lay by the pool and read or float. Have dinner, meet up with friends, volleyball practice, or lay on the couch with Netflix
Sebastian and I would text sporadically throughout the day. About nine my time, so three am for him, I'd send him a picture. One Angie took or something I'd taken during the day. He always woke up to see me. Some days that was more arousing than others. We talked almost every day. Maybe five minutes or an hour. Night shoots were the worst. He was working while I was awake and I was asleep during his time off.
The weekend Angie and Eli came down was fun. Friday night we stayed in watching movies and drinking. Saturday's tournament was going well until storms came through. The radar said there were hours of rain left, so they canceled. Since all our plans had been canceled we decided on a bar crawl. Which meant Sunday was spent recovering. We went to brunch at the riverside restaurant where Sebastian and I had our first date. On the drive back I made plans for calling Georgia. Angie and Eli were my get away plan. We went out on the back patio. I set up my iPad where they would only see me, but I could see my support system.
Dad picked up almost immediately, “Hey, Emma. You’re home. Amy told us you were in France.”
“Sebastian had an event so we made it a short vacation.”
“Sounds fun.” My mom had entered the frame. “I bet you appreciated things you overlooked before.”
I laughed, “I did. All those things I saw pictures of later and wished I’d paid more attention to. We had a good time.”
“That’s great.”
Time to dive in. “I wanted to tell you some good news.”
Amy jumped into frame and interrupted, “Can I hear too?”
I ignored the question and just went on, “I was accepted into a new Doctoral program at NYU. It’s education and digital media. It’s new so we’re building my program as we go.”
“That’s great news, Emma.” Dad looked excited, “Dissertation and everything?”
“Yes, it can be research or designing a project. I’ve got about three years to get that figured out. They accepted the post-grad classes I’ve been taking.”
“Congratulations, sweetheart. We’re proud of you.” Mom’s smile was bright.
“My baby sister is going to be a Doctor. I need to figure out my future.”
I shook my head, “You’ll figure it out. What’s right for you and my beautiful niece. She’s a job and a half.”
“I am not enjoying this age.”
“That’s why I teach first grade and not kindergarten or preschool.”
We talked a bit more about school, what was going on there, and how things were with Amy and Max. Mom asked about Sebastian, where he was, and if things were good between us. Instead of shutting her down, like I had in the car, I talked about him.
Not a minute after we hung up Amy texted, “How’s Sebastian feel about calling you Dr? *wink*wink*”
I sent back, “Exactly, like that.”
I closed my tablet and looked at my friends. I was not comfortable. Sure, the conversation had gone fine, but it didn’t feel fine. “That went better than expected.”
“This time.” Eli grimaced, “Sorry.”
“That’s what makes this so hard. This looks normal, but it’s not. If it was, I wouldn’t have this not in the bit of my stomach and want friends here when I talk to them. That’s not normal.”
Angie came over to kneel beside me, bringing me into a hug, “No, it’s not. You don’t need us when you call Seattle.”
Eli joined us, “I don’t think they know what they’re doing, but it doesn’t change it, Emma.”
I laughed, “I know.” I kissed his cheek. Dealing with my parents was worse for him than it was for me. I hated seeing people I love hurt too. I wasn’t hurt though. It was a weird numb.
“You ok, Em?”
I met Angie’s eyes, “I am. Just weird. The happier I am, the more good things going on, the more distant I feel. The better I’m doing, the less supportive they are.”
“Yep!” Eli didn’t hesitate to agree. “And that’s not alright.”
I mussed his hair, “No, it’s not.”
The next week was more of the same. I registered for my fall classes and my books were delivered by Wednesday. I started reading. Yes, I'm that student. I liked to get a head start. I'd never taken classes in the fall. The first month of teaching was exhausting. It took time and energy to get first graders ready to learn. I wasn't sure how that would work with starting my classes. Getting ahead on reading seemed the safest approach.
Thursday afternoon Sebastian called. Drunk. I guess wrapping in Paris was worthy of a party. The rest of cast and crew were packing up and heading to Rome. Sebastian was flying halfway around the world to San Diego's Comic-Con. He'd spend thirty-two hours of his four day weekend in a plane, which meant he was drunk and a little grumpy. By the time I was done with him he was still drunk, but no longer grumpy. He was naked, smiling, and satisfied. Well, as satisfied as he could be over the phone. Even drunk he was insistent that he not see me masturbating for the first time on video. We should have taken care of this.
I set an alarm for the middle of the night to make sure he was awake and would make his plane. It was worth it to lay in bed together.
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Steady by your side, keep me in the light (Jaida x Nicky)
A/N: Jaida and Nicky hold eachother up through the worse of senior year
Nicky was not stupid. Jaida knew that, their friends knew that, and, at a rational level, Nicky herself knew that too. It was just their teachers who seemed to disagree.
Since moving to the States, she had been struggling with most subjects. Studying in her second language took her twice as long and left her exhausted, and sometimes she gave up halfway through the unit and researched the topic in online French textbooks, hoping they covered everything her teachers would ask from her. Her grades had taken a nosedive and her current GPA was barely hanging above the 3.63 required by her first choice college.
Jaida did her best to help her, but between basketball practice, her internship and her own load of high school work, they barely had enough time for two study dates a week. Nevermind actual dates. Senior year was riding them hard and there was no break in sight. On the rare moments of peace (about five minutes long each), Jaida daydreamed about the summer she would spend with her girlfriend. Two months of getting drunk with their friends and laying next to the pool without moving a muscle to recover from the mental wreckage of senior year, before everyone packed up their whole lives and moved away.
But first, they had finals to pass.
Jaida sat on her bedroom desk, with her laptop open to a new document and a copy of The Old Man and the Sea, which she was coloring with annotated post-its. Every couple of minutes, she glanced at her phone. Nicky was supposed to have joined her half an hour ago, and she hadn’t even texted. Jaida forced herself not to worry; she knew Nicky had stayed after class to talk to her civics teacher about an assignment for extra credit.
If she doesn’t show signs of life in the next fifteen minutes, I’m calling her.
She didn’t have to, because just a few minutes later, she heard the front door opening and the voices of her mom and her girlfriend talking, followed by steps approaching her room.
The door flew open and Nicky dragged her feet to the bed, where she flopped face down. Jaida watched her dramatics, amused.
“Sooo, how did it go?”
“Hmhht mhmhnt,” said Nicky, face buried into the mattress.
“Come again? Maybe lift your head.”
“I got the assignment.”
“Why so down, then?”
Nicky rolled onto her back and faced her girlfriend. “He wants me to write about threats to democracy, which sounds extremely depressing. And we’re both getting fashion bachelors! Why do we need to understand gerrymandering?”
“Because we live in Missouri. Why did you even take AP government?”
“I freaked out about the GPA, because I’m dumb.”
Jaida raised an eyebrow at her. “Nicolette.”
Nicky closed her eyes and breathed out.
“I’m not dumb. I’m smart. I’m just stressed, and that’s okay.”
Jaida’s expression softened as she walked towards the bed. “That’s better,” she praised, sitting next to her. “Let’s get the lit essay over with, then I’ll help you with civics.”
Nicky sat up and collapsed against Jaida. “D’accord. Hemingway can suck a dick, though.”
Jaida smiled and pressed her lips against Nicky’s temple. “On that, we can agree.”
____________________________________________________
Two thousand words each and a coffee break later, the girls sat on the bed, facing the laptop.
“You misspelled ‘onomatopoeia’, here,” said Jaida, pointing at the screen. Nicky leaned forward to fix it.
backspace backspace backspace
“You also used ‘allusion’ instead of ‘allegory’.”
Nicky frowned.
“Allusions describe ideas through characters and storylines, no?”
“No, that’s allegories. Allusions are just references to important people or events.”
backspace backspace backspace
“And you listed foreshadowing under figures of speech, but it isn’t.”
“Why did I… oh,” said Nicky, closing her fists and rubbing her eyes. “It’s préfiguration in French. I got confused. I hate this fucking language.”
Nicky fell onto Jaida and buried her face on her neck. Jaida started playing with Nicky’s hair with one hand and kept marking the essay with the other. She corrected one, two, three misspellings before she felt kisses along her neck clouding her judgement.
“Baby, focus, come on,” she said, jolting her shoulder. Nicky persisted.
“Nooo. You’re much more interesting than Hemingway.”
“Girl, the bar is so low…”
“Five minute break?” asked Nicky, and grazed Jaida’s skin with her teeth.
That was a step too far, because Jaida pulled away and grabbed Nicky’s face in her hands.
“Nicolette. Behave.”
Nicky huffed and fell face down on the bed, screaming into the pillow. Jaida rolled her eyes and poked her side.
“Get up, drama club. We’re not done.” Jaida slapped Nicky’s thigh, expecting her to sit up and retaliate.
Instead, Jaida noticed, her back started shaking.
“Nicks?” she said, laying down next to her.
The only response was a sob.
“Oh, baby, no, come here…” Jaida pulled Nicky close, until she could press kisses all over her face.
They stayed like that, with Jaida rubbing circles on Nicky’s back, until the sobs subsided and Nicky could speak again.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m acting like a brat,” she said, wiping her eyes forcefully.
“You’re not a brat, you’re a senior in finals,” said Jaida, kissing her hairline. “I cried in the gym showers twice this week; you’re doing just fine. What’s going on?”
“I’m scared about this class. It took me forever to read that stupid book, I even had to read a summary in French because I kept getting lost. And I still have to memorize the forty fucking words there are to say ‘metaphor’ and I’m already getting a headache.”
Jaida laughed and rolled onto her back, dragging Nicky with her.
“There’s only five, we’ll go over them later.” Nicky hummed in agreement and settled on her girlfriend’s chest.
A few moments later, she broke the silence.
“So… why were you crying?”
Nicky felt Jaida’s breathing stutter under her cheek. She ran her nails between Jaida’s clavicles and waited.
Jadia took a moment to answer.
“Bio’s kicking my ass,” she sighed. “Mrs. Jensen’s been lenient, but…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “She’s not gonna bump up my grade just ‘cause I ask her. I either do well in the final, or I kiss you and our college goodbye.”
Nicky propped herself up and looked at Jaida, who wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“What did you say?”
Jaida stared at the wall and shrugged dismissively.
“We never discussed long-distance. All of our plans assume we’ll be living on the same campus, but if I don’t get in and you do, I don’t- I’m not sure what that’s gonna look like.”
Jaida feels Nicky’s hand on her cheek, tilting her face forward.
“First of all, I’ve seen your grades. You just need an eight. You’re getting an eight, Jaida, it’s you. And second of all,” she dropped ‘till their noses were touching, “it’s cute how you think that long distance is enough to get rid of me,” Nicky said, poking her tongue out and licking Jaida’s lips.
Jaida grinned, big and toothy, and pushed Nicky off. Her girlfriend fell on her back, laughing.
“Fuck off, I’m trying to open up, bitch.”
Nicky took her hand and smiled at her “I know. I love you.” She turned to face her. “I’m going to be serious, now.”
“Oh, no…”
Nicky lightly bumped Jaida’s chin with her knuckles. “Whatever the next years will look like, here, in Missouri, in fucking Antartica, I don’t see a life without you in it. I love my family, and our friends, but you’re the person who’s made these past years bearable.”
Jaida smiled and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to get emotional at the memory of little fifteen-year-old Nicky. Jaida had seen her all lonely and lost that first week of class and sauntered into her life, and they just hadn’t parted ways since.
“Remember when you first moved here? You were so quiet and shy, it was adorable. Now I can never get you to shut up.”
“You have your methods,” Nicky smirked. “Speaking of which…”
“We’re not done with your essay, Nicks.”
Nicky pouted and put on her best puppy eyes. Jaida could feel her resolve slipping.
“Don’t give me those eyes, that’s not fair…”
Nicky leaned in to kiss Jaida’s nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth.
“Break now?”
Jaida moved on top of Nicky and kissed her back, slow and sweet.
“You get ten minutes.”
“Fine by me.”
#rpdr fanfiction#jaida essence hall/nicky doll#jaida essence hall#nicky doll#steady by your side keep me in the light#mar#lesbian au#high school au#fluff#concrit welcome#back to school 2020#day 7: memorize#submission
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posting this because exactly two (2) peple said that they like the idea so heres some ace! Kent for you
JACK ZIMMERMANN @JLZ
My Las Vegas review so far
Arena 9/10
Ice 9/10
Practice rink 7/10
The strip 3/10
Desert 5/10
Air conditioned apartment 1000/10
The CatFather @ParsonKent90
Wow.. who knew the Canadian didn't like the heat RT: @JLZ
JACK ZIMMERMANN @JLZ
You have had 10 years to get use to it, let me suffer in peace RT: @ParsonKent90
Jefferey Troy @thatSwoopsdude
Kent's a massive hypocrite, don't let him tell you otherwise RT: @JLZ, @ParsonKent90
[photo of Kent in a grey shirt sweating buckets while wearing red heart shaped glasses, it has 19/7/17 in the snapchat style at the bottom of the pic]
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Kent thinks he's always been a bit in love with jack Zimmerman. He knows he has been. For the first few seasons of being on the Aces , Kent didn't date, didn't try to date , he couldn't date. His teammates all tried to push to meet someone. Scraps tried to set him up on a blind date with his cousin and Hughes kept insisting that Kent would be just a great match with his next door neighbour. But Kent always found excuses to get out of it, that was until his teammates stopped trying.
It wasn't until his forth season that he actually got into an relationship. It was with a guy named Jonathan. He was form Indiana and currently studying photography at UNLV. Kent met him when Jonathan was doing an internship with the Aces. They actually made a really nice couple, and had plenty of interests in common - 80s music, supernatural movies - but they didn't share the same ideas on everything. Jonathan wanted dates, wanted dinner at restaurant with candles or making out in movie theatres. He wanted to be able to say "I have a boyfriend" without immediately saying "but don't tell anyone". He wanted to be able go somewhere public with him without Kent glancing around constantly for people. Kent however, valued his career and reputation more than his relationship and decided that it would be better if they broke up. He cried in his car afterwards.
So he decided that he only date women for then on. At least then he could tell people. At least then it wouldn't be on the list of reasons on why them eventually broke up.
8 months. He got 8 months this time. But maybe starting a relationship right before playoffs wasn't a good idea - at least that's what he told himself was the reason for himself failing at yet another relationship. It wasn't until he ran into Emma a couple months later - he thinks it might've been on Valentine's Day, he remembers love heart bunting - that he found out that she broke up with him because he wouldn't have sex with her. They had had that conversation before many times. Each time it ended with him saying that he don't want to do it and her saying it's fine , I can wait. He did try to tell her that she would be waiting forever but she didn't understand, never tried to understand either. He doesn't know wether it's better knowing the true reason or believing his made up one.
His relationship with Jack was complicated, complex and probably shouldn't really be counted as a relationship in the first place. But Kent liked him, really liked him. And Jack did like him too. And they were boyfriends, Kent made sure they were on the same page with that. However, they didn't act like boyfriends, they didn't go on dates (couldn't go on them), barely made out with one another, wouldn't talk about anything serious with each other.
Eventually Kent was the one to break up with Jack, it benefited their teamwork and friendship. Kent stopped worrying about telling Jack about stuff and Jack became less anxious about keeping secrets. But then they won the memorial cup.
After the game Kent dragged Jack up to their shared hotel room calling over his shoulder to tell their teammates that he forgot his jacket and that they'll meet them at pizza place soon. Jack was the one to kiss him first - just like the first time. However unlike every other time Kent moved forward , pushed harder, changed the direction it was heading in. And Jack high off of adrenaline and happiness didn't think anything different of it. Kent determined to prove something- he still doesn't know what - sank to his knees and lowered Jack's jeans. Except after that he froze, Jack staring at him waiting gave him an encouraging smile, and then Kent felt sick. He grabbed his forgotten jacket and left the room. In the days before the draft , they never talked about it and Jack never tried to do as much as hug Kent.
He went to that party at samwell to see Jack, Obviously. It had been a month since Emma broke up with him and he was still wallowing in what swoops called his self-deprecating sadness slump - he though he was being fancy with the alliteration - so Kent decided he should be a masochist and try to find out how he messed up with Jack as well.
The thing is Kent honestly thinks a part of himself was still madly in love with Jack Zimmermann up in till this point. Because after Jack drags Kent into his room demanding to know why he's here and Kent answers with to find out what happened between them, Jack tries to solve the issue of Kent being Kent by shoving his tongue down his throat. He did that in the Q as well but at that time, Kent wanted it. When Kent pushes away and asks his question again, he actually gets a reply and it's then his heart breaks and his head stops working. It because the answer is the same as Emma's reason for a break up.
So Kent does what he did when jack was being Jack in the Q and changed the subject. It's doesn't make the situation better because apparently Jack is fucking insulted at the thought of being on the Aces. Kent kisses him to see if the anger will go away. This time Jack pushes away, says "Kenny, you can't keep doing that". Apparently unwanted kisses are only okay will they come form Jack Zimmermann. Kent turns mean at this point, his heart is sad and his brain is mad so he hurts Jack where he knows will do the most damage. Turns out he never got over his teenage daddy issues.
Kent made out with Jeff when he got back to his hotel room in Boston. Only this time the other person realised Kent was trying to prove something and Jeff pulled away after Kent whispered "I wanna be normal" against his lips.
The next morning, Kent spent a good hour before breakfast making both an apology speech to the coaches for breaking curfew and also a speech to Jeff - both an apology and making Jeff knows that Kent doesn't actually like him like that.
After talking to Jeff while waiting for the plane, they spent the whole ride huddled over Jeff's laptop googling different things and feelings. Jeff clicked on some blogs that Kent pointed outs. And it's on one of them that they find the word 'asexual'. They had to wait for the painfully slow internet to load up the search results for that term but eventually they find a definition. And Kent smiled because something finally, finally slotted into place and he felt happy. Jeff smiled as well and whispered in Kents ear that he is normal, that nothing is wrong with him and that Kent can take his laptop if he wants to search up anything more because he's gonna take a nap now. Kent laughed and took it off Jeff's lap.
#kent parson#ace!kent parson#jeff troy#swoops#omgcp#check please#jack zimmermann#Jack/Kent#jackparse#asexual#two ocs
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an overwatch/friends crossover sounds........... so fucking WILD. mccree, working retail,
This is an extension of that Doc Hates everything Friends episode, but would we like to talk about what people who were in Overwatch (that I write about) do before Pharah and Tracer get the bright idea to start it back up? No! I don’t care I want to be self-indulgent and pretend you do. (All in my HON HON HON canon, of course)
Ana
Well she’s busy pretending to be dead, but a girl’s gotta eat
She becomes a mercenary, and while she’s picky about her jobs, she does, in fact, know that she has to pay rent and sometimes you just get the itch to snipe a man.
She reads about all of Pharah’s accomplishments and is convinced she’s doing the best thing by letting Pharah think she’s dead.
McCree
Thinks for about .5 seconds about going back to the Deadlock Gang. Even his total lack of pride won’t allow him to. They left him, didn’t they? He won’t come crawling back.
It occurs to Jesse he doesn’t have loads of skills.
He takes a job working a Murdoch’s in Salida, Colorado, selling rope and bailing wire and bullets and various farm and ranch items.
He has a little mobile home on some land and a horse and his cats and other than being lonely, he’s reasonably happy.
Jesse McCree just can’t leave well enough alone, and this is how Reaper gets to him.
Mercy
First she has convince the medical board that just because the UN brought her and Reinhardt up on ridiculous charges because they couldn’t find hardly anyone else, doesn’t mean she ought to lose her license.
Tracer is still struggling to recover from Doomfist ripping her through time.
A technicality means they can’t charge Winston, as he is not human.
Conveniently everyone that SHOULD be charged is dead.
“Dead”
In any case, she manages to convince them and goes about repairing her reputation. She’s won Nobel prizes, she never patented a single medical breakthrough she made, but all people remember is seeing her in front of the UN. All they remember is hearing it said that she was a bad person.
She works a speaking circuit, which she hates but which allows her to rebuild some sort of good graces. She takes a job teaching pre-med in Zurich.
It only takes a couple of years for Harvard to forget the unpleasantness of the inquiry and remember her genius. She takes a teaching position at their medical school, gets a little apartment at the back of a house, and gets takeout.
She meets Fareeha Amari, and her life changes forever, and the sun seems to finally rise.
Tracer
First things first, Lena thinks, she has to get back to normal. The tear through time rattled her fairly well, and recovery is slow.
Ang is busy getting written up by the world’s principal’s office and still spends nights and weekends adjusting medications and such for Lena, trying to help get on her feet. Ang is a good egg, a kind person, and it makes Tracer so angry she can’t hardly think to see her humiliated on a world stage.
She damn near tosses open the door and marches down to New York City to give them a piece of her mind, save for the fact that the world still brings her to her knees more than she’d like.
In time, she does recover. It takes about six months for her to be back in life again, and another month for her to get well enough that she decides to go out and get a job, no matter what Winston has to say about it.
Her pilot’s license was never formally revoked, because they, in truth, never thought she would get better, and it would reflect ill on them to strip the Hero of London.
But that doesn’t mean anyone will let her get in the air. She can’t get hired by fucking RyanAir, even.
She spends a fair amount of time screaming at the sky no one will let her into.
Lena takes a breath, and decides she’s going to get a job, whatever it is, and worry over the flying later. Her uncle Teddy offers to let her come work in the bakery, says he’d love to have her, but it feels too much like charity, and also baking starts at 3 am.
She gives her resume, typed neatly on linen paper, to anyone who will take it out of her hands. Bars, restaurants, (”I’m very cheerful, mind. Excellent customer service”), Harrods to Marks and Spencers, but no one bites until she wanders into a little suit shop, and, quite by starting a conversation, manages to sell a fine suit to a fellow butch lesbian.
The owner is not a stupid man, and sees an untapped market.
Lena enjoys it quite a bit, helping up the selections of boys’ suiting for the smaller among them, helping with tailoring, and in general, making excellent sales and feeling like she’s contributing in life.
But then, she gets an offer from Top Gun. The Americans are as crazy as she’s always thought and they’d love to have her come teach. She’s one of the finest fighter pilots ever born, so who cares if she might disappear in the air?
She loves it. She’s so happy, the feel of being back in the cockpit, of flying, of coming to close to the line, it fills her in a way she had missed so very much, even, she realizes, when she was doing field work for Overwatch.
But she misses London terribly, and her family, and Winston is in Boston, so when Red Air offers her a position, even thought it’s theoretical, she takes it.
But the good news is, Helix also wants to work with her. They need a pilot to help with some prototypes for flying.
She’ll be working with Captain Fareeha Amari.
Winston
He has to take care of Lena. This is the only thing he knows for sure, is that she’s sick, and she needs his help, and he has to take care of her.
Overwatch fell down around their ears, but he doesn’t even care. He has to help her.
He repairs mobile phones, tablets, and laptops out of his house, and the pay is not great, but it’s enough to keep them together, especially with Tracer’s family helping out.
They always treat him so kindly, like he was one of them too.
He hates that Lena feels she has to get a job. But there’s no arguing with her once she’s made her mind up.
Besides, it’s lifted her mood so much that he thinks better of his hesitation.
He invents a new kind of battery for a cell phone, and the royalties come trickling in, and suddenly Winston has so much less to worry about than normal, and nothing again if it ever takes off, save for the fact that Lena has an offer in America that she intends to take.
He thinks about just going with her, but decides instead to apply to do research at universities. He’s a doctor. He should have the same chance as anyone else.
He didn’t really believe in himself, but he gets a position at MIT.
Lena flies to come see him at least once a month.
(Pharah and Dva are not on this list because they were not in 1.0)
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The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 15
Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!
Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.
PLEASE READ:
I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.
I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!
I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!
There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.
The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!!
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Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…
Characters:
Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)
Cillian Murphy
Word Count: 2,154
!!Warnings!!: Major sex scene at the beginning and some foreplay at the end
Date: January 2017
Chapter Name: Distance Won’t Stop Us
Brief Chapter Outline: With a satisfying morning, the pair go for a walk where they have a heart to heart before they end their last day in the cabin playing games and watching movies...
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Last night was something. Gabrijela and Cillian had gone another round with her topping him once more. He wanted to be the one to finish on top but she had pinned his arms above his head and moaned his name as she came. Then it was over for her and she collapsed on his body, exhausted and unable to cum anymore.
Cillian was the same, she had milked him dry. He didn't even think he would last this long at his age. But somehow Gabrijela pulled every little groan out of him.
Now, as the sun rose, a fresh coat of snow outside Cillian was spooning Gabrijela. His arm was around her, she had held his hand up to her chest and her fingers laced between his. His other arm was stretched out under her pillow.
He liked the feeling of her naked body against his own, the softness of her made him want to hold her like this forever.
Cillian leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her freckled shoulder, and she stirred a little, mumbling a word but she settled back into her deep sleep.
Cillian fell back to sleep before he rewoke again an hour later to get up and go toilet. After that, he decided to make her breakfast but worried she would wake up with the noise he made.
But nope, she stayed asleep the whole way through only moving a bit by twisting her top torso to her back while the lower part stayed in its original position.
Once he finished cooking scrambled eggs, bacon, baked beans from a can and perfectly cooked toast with butter he laid it on the tray popped a rose in a small glass.
Gabrijela began to wake up from the smell of food. She was now entirely on her back, stretching her aching and stiff body. She groaned and rubbed her eyes and opened them to find Cillian standing beside the bed holding a tray of some real good smelling food.
"Good morning, my love. I've made you breakfast." He said as he watched her sit up more, her eyes becoming more focused.
"Good morning. You shouldn't have," She smiled as he set the tray across her lap. "Mmm smells so good."
"Just made." He said as he sat beside her, leaning over to kiss her.
"Thank you. How about yourself?" She looked at him.
"On the table, I'll eat after you." He shook his head.
"Oh no, Cillian. I want to eat together. Let's sit at the table then." She said as she began to move.
"No, no. I'll bring my food here then." He said and got up to retrieve it and come back.
She giggled taking a photo of the food. "Selfie?" She asked.
"Naked?" He raised a brow.
"Only for my eyes." She smirked as she pulled up the sheets to her chest, "Please?"
"Alright." He moved in close as she took a photo, and he snuck in a quick kiss to her cheek before she took the photo.
"Sneaky." They kissed each other before they dug in to eat.
Cillian cleaned up once they were finished and she scrolled through the photos on her phone. She had taken a lot over the past months, most of her holiday ones were saved on her laptop but the ones with Cillian, she kept them on her phone so she could look through them later. She really liked the ones where they were cuddling in bed, his smile was so cute.
When she looked over, she smirked. He was still butt naked and was doing the dishes. Lifting up her phone she took a pic and laughed, "Ah! So cute!"
Cillian turned around, wiping his hands, "You did it again didn't you?" He scowled a little.
"My eyes only!" She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Oh, I'm getting you now." He said and rushed to her.
She squealed and got off the bed the moment he got on. He rolled off it as she ran towards the dining table.
"Gotcha now." Cillian grabbed her as she laughed and she squirmed.
"Noooo!" She grinned, gripping his shoulders.
"You are one very naughty girl, hm?" He backed her into the table, hearing her phone fall to the carpet with a soft thump.
"I am. What are you gonna do about it?" She let her fingers snake up his neck and into his hair.
"Well, if I had more things here with me I'd show you." He said against her lips.
She moaned, growing warm despite still sore from yesterday, "Then you'll have to come visit me in Sydney. I got some things that would make anyone blush." She licked his lips.
"Do you now?" He crouched a little and then lifted her up from under her thighs.
She let out a soft 'oof' as she admired the muscles that strained in his biceps. She ran her fingers down it instead, "Mhm." She was placed back on the table.
"Well then, I'll have to take up on that offer." He kissed her, stepping closer as her legs locked around his waist. He kissed her slow, thoroughly as his tongue slipped into her mouth.
Her hand moved down towards his shaft and gripped him, a soft grunt coming from him as she began to rub him. His hands on her hips gripped tighter, "Mmm," He moaned.
"Baby, growing so hard." She murmured, sucking on his bottom lip. She looked down, watching him grow as she pumped him faster. "Cillian." She looked back up, his eyes half-lidded. She squeezed him, wanting to see his reaction.
He gritted his jaw, "Naughty girl. You know how to make me feel good." He gulped, her lips pressed to his neck to kiss and suck softly.
"I pick up on things pretty well, baby. I think I got you hard enough, lets put you in." She tugged him again and he groaned.
He stepped closer, he could feel the warmth of her core as she rubbed him along her slit then back to the familiar hug of her walls.
She tilted her head back, shutting her eyes. God she was going to be weak and so overly sensitive after this. But fuck it, it was worth it.
He thrusted and she cried out when he was at home base, his lips finding hers as he once more started to thrust. Again, he went slow at first, rolling his hips and watched how she let out a loud moan at each movement. His hands now rested on the surface of the table, she had one arm hooked around his neck as she leaned back on the other.
"Aw, fuck, Cillian." She whimpered, her voice higher than usual. She was tight every time he moved, she was sensitive.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, pausing.
"No!" She gasped, shaking her head, "I want you to keep going. I want this. I promise." She tried to move her hips.
"Okay love, just tell me if it's too much." He said and began to go faster until the table was shaking.
Her cries filled the room, and it got louder as she was drawn closer to her climax. She laid back on the table, and he held her legs wide open. She watched how he worked hard to push deep into her, his eyes focused on her face. He never broke eye contact.
Cillian could feel himself close, his thrusting becoming sloppy and his groans louder, "Oh... Oh, Gabrijela!" He pulled her back up and she was up against the wall.
She let out a gasp and gripped his shoulders, his lips on her neck. "Cillian! Fuck, I'm gonna cum!" She cried, clinging to him as she gasped and came again, her body twitching as she whimpered.
Cillian let out one, hot, loud groan against her ear as he came with her, thrusting hard a few times to pump his load deep inside her. He let out whimpers, his voice cracking a little as he kissed up to her lips.
She loved the sounds he made, he was so hot. She claimed his lips and they kissed deeply and messily, teeth clashing as she cupped his face.
They pulled apart a little, a web of their saliva between their lips, "I love you," Cillian said, his hands holding her face.
"I love you too, baby," She smiled and kissed him again, "I really don't think I can cum anymore." She laughed softly.
"Neither can I." He kissed her cheek and her jaw as he lifted her up again, his arms locking under her ass. She gasped as he carried her back to the bed and laid her down.
She flopped back, he joined her, "What will we do today?"
"Well, there is a short walking track just beside the cabin, takes us to a small look-out," Cillian replied.
"Let's do that." She said, "It's a nice day."
But first, they rested before she took a shower. Cillian joined her and they shared another passionate kiss under the water.
Once dried up and dressed, they headed out. It was clear skies with a few clouds here and there. But still very cold.
The pair took their time along the walk, taking photos together either cuddling or kissing, being silly or just staring into the eyes of each other.
Eventually, they came to the small look-out on top of a small hill. It overlooked the city and the ocean beyond.
"Magnificent." She said as they sat on a bench, shoulder to shoulder. "I love Cork."
"Yeah?" He held her hand in his lap.
"Yeah, maybe even more than you." She looked up at him.
"That's okay. I'm glad you love this place, means a lot." He kissed her forehead.
"If you could, given the chance, would you move back here?" She asked.
"I would, no hesitations. But then maybe Dublin... I don't know." He smiled.
"Either city, then." She smiled. But the idea of being away from him... it saddened her greatly. "Cillian." She wanted to know how he was feeling about the idea of her gone.
"Hm?" He looked back at her.
"It might kill the mood but... I need to know... I need to know how you are feeling. About me leaving in two days." She whispered.
He looked longingly into her eyes before he spoke, "I... I never really thought of it. I've been just thinking about the now." He squeezed her hand, "But I want you to know that I will not break my promise to you. I will stay loyal, and I will come and see you as much as I possibly can. I love you Gabrijela, and some thousands of miles will not break that love for you. Never."
She felt tears in her eyes and wiped them away, "I will love you and I won't let this distance come between us." She wrapped her arms around his neck and they held each other.
"It's going to be hard on us both, but we must put this effort in." He said he was dreading the idea of her gone. It would be weird to come home and not find her on the couch all snuggled in his throw and drinking hot cocoa.
"Yeah. I will do that. And I will save up so I can visit you." She pulled back, touching his cheek.
"Sounds like a plan." He smiled and kissed her.
They spent some time on the bench, gazing towards the horizon. Then they headed home to spend time together in bed, watching plenty of romantic movies to comedy movies.
Cillian had brought his ukulele and played some tunes while they sat on the balcony after dinner. She sang with him in songs they both knew the lyrics to. Did more dancing and then played some board games once inside.
Then they headed into bed for an early night in, before he did some lazy fingering for her.
His fingers had trailed down her side, his nails scraping her skin lightly before the slid between her soft thighs. She let out a sweet moan when he came into contact with that perfect treasure of hers. So ravished by him in the last twenty-four hours.
She was sleepy, but his fingers kept her on that edge of wakefulness. Up and down, pushing and rubbing. She gripped his forearm gently as she let out another louder moan.
He wasn't stopping there, he pushed two fingers into her and began to finger her slowly. He kept his lips to her neck, enjoying the soft tired moans she had.
Cillian had her over the edge in no time, her body writhing from the pleasure before he brought them up to her lips for her to clean them off and he did the same for himself.
Gabrijela was now thoroughly pleased, and sleep managed to take her very quickly.
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On moving
I am packing my things. It is, at this point, just another routine. There are various combinations of packing that I do depending upon the transport I’m taking and I’ve become very good at following routines that mean I immediately, instinctively know where to find things later.
These things go in the suitcase. These things go in my messenger bag. Long before I reach any airport scanners, all of the objects in my pockets are already in the pockets of that same messenger bag. I know exactly which of my things will set off a metal detector. I dress appropriately the morning before. And I shave. I shave and look like as respectable a traveller as I can.
Outside the sky is a pale blue the exact shade of longing, pierced by telegraph poles and criss-crossed with wires hanging heavy under the weight of the stories they carry. One of those stories is mine, carried on to you right now.
Change might be coming. It might happen any moment now. Nobody is sure. Nothing is certain. The wind blows and every plant, shrub, bush and tree bends in accordance as if this was always meant to be.
Something happens when I try to move. The wheels of time become greased and the clocks spin right in front of my eyes. At the same time, the ground becomes tar. It is sticky and sour and it yearns to pull me downward even as I try to move on. Whatever day I decide I’m travelling on I never manage to get enough sleep. I never make enough time. I am always in a rush.
I got up today before seven. I had all sorts of tasks to finish. I still haven’t. Sat next to me right now is a postcard I need to send back to friends to thank them for taking care of me. I haven’t had dinner. I haven’t checked my travel times.
That tar has been following me around for a long time now. It’s a strange creature that lives in the ground and that slurps its way from continent to continent, hunting me down, ready to form a new broiling, bubbling pit of blackness below me when I most want to be free. I fear that, one day, it will suck me down inside and I will never be able to move on again.
I have been re-reading things that I wrote back in December 2014. The month was a blur. It was a blur of packing, of travel plans and of shedding so many of my possessions. I climbed into a catapult aimed at Vancouver and I missed. I was so tired that I booked a flight to Calgary.
I struggled to get rid of a sofa for free. London is packed with middle class people who scour freecycle sites and they get very picky about the furniture you are giving away. You live too far. It’s too scratched. It’s the wrong colour. It’s a fucking free sofa.
I frantically edited the longest video I ever made, staying up late, unable to sleep, falling into bed to wake up at all kinds of times and watch those clocks spin and spin and spin.
At moments like these I try to do everything myself, because I feel more confident that way and also more informed. I organise it all and, apart from the occasional flight to Calgary, I tend to get it all right. I got a lot of things wrong in December 2014, mind you, because I had never before given away or thrown away half of my worldly possessions, planned to move abroad or leapt forward into the void without knowing where I was living next. At moments like these, my friends and family also find tiny ways to help, which inevitably end up becoming extremely useful. They can be as simple as Ed booking me the cab that took me away from my last London flat for the last time.
I cursed myself as I left, because I realised I’d forgotten my toiletries. I’d also left cheese in the fridge and I would find out later that the landlady was furious about this. The flat had months of water damage from flooding that she hadn’t been able to repair because of the complexities of where the leak was coming from and because an infinite amount of plumbers and builders had given her estimates she didn’t like, so she just kept sending new people over to tut at the mouldy walls and leaking ceiling.
There were a bunch of other problems, too, but that was the worst. Everything stank long before she complained about an ageing piece of cheese that it took five seconds to put in the bin. Fuck her.
I looked back over my notes from that time. I found that I’d written this.
“I don’t sleep much. I wake up stressed about packing and preparation. Moving out remains a full time job.
Ed came to see me and, very kindly, also ordered me a taxi. It was a taxi that would help take me and more objects than I ever expected to carry all the way out of London, where I may well never ever live again. I dismantled my PC in front of him and gave him the case. I packed the rest of its wiry innards away. I heaved a rucksack onto my back, loaded my laptop bag with everything that would fit inside it and crammed the last of the things I had into the giant rolling suitcase that I bought myself a few days ago.
It took me a long time to pick that suitcase. I found a street vendor on Tottenham Court Road who had an enormous stall selling cases of all shapes and sizes. I tried to work out weights. I tried to work out capacities. It took me a long time, as I fussed and fretted over every possible one, trying them all out, seeing how solid they were, seeing if they would safely transport computer parts or fragile items or anything else. The guy selling them was very, very patient and helpful. I trundled away with a blue thing which is effectively my new home.
I talked with Ed and he wished me well and then the taxi he’d called arrived. I loaded all my many things into the back of it and began the slow, constipated journey toward Waterloo, inching and forcing a passage through the twisting intestines of south London's bulging and buckling infrastructure. All things were dark and dense with people and litter and London's very particular flavour of incredibly oily night seeping into it all.
The capital looked stained and weathered and wrinkled everywhere I turned my eyes, at every junction, intersection or street that my taxi tried to squeeze its way through. It held onto me as long and as tight as it could and I pushed my way through the thousands of people filling Waterloo in numbers I never saw when I took my first regular trips in, well over ten years gone. I felt only the tiniest bit of pity for it as I snatched typical station snack food from an outlet and dragged all my things onto a train, ready to be firmly, thoroughly, definitively expelled from that strange and sickly and suffering underworld of a place.”
I also wrote that London was a tar pit. I feared that I was sinking into it forever and that I would never be free. Each time I pulled one part of myself out, another was newly smeared as something began to tug it under. I couldn’t get my feet free. I couldn’t get my hands free. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.
I hear that tar bubbling again. I am going to pack the last of my things away now. I have to go. Change might be coming. It might happen any moment now. Nobody is sure. Nothing is certain.
The wind blows and I stand firm against it. I step forward.
This writing was funded by my supporters on Patreon. I’ve decided to make my standard posts there public, so you can now read lots more work like this. And if you’re interested in reading even more, there’s plenty to enjoy if you'd like to support me at a higher tier.
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April Challenge 2019 Day 23
Ch 4 of the MM Mafia AU I’ve been collaborating on with @umberchips
I should really work on this some more.
Here’s the first 3 chapters if you need to reread, I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated.
Yoosung watched the twins as they entered the noodle shop. They sat by the window, a mistake in his eyes. It would be all too easy to take them both out before they could even react. His fingers itched to do just that. Unfortunately, Jumin was not a big believer in guns. It was too easy to become complacent and dependent on the illegal firearms. And too easy to get arrested because of them as well. Yoosung preferred to get his hands dirty anyway.
He'd seen them often enough that he could easily tell them apart. Saeran sat on the left, Saeyoung on the right. While they perused their menu, they also took in their surroundings. Yoosung grinned, it's what he would do, make note of all the exits, the people inside, any potential danger. Yet, the biggest danger was outside, across the street, hiding in the shadows of the alleyway. It was only luck that had brought him to this spot. He'd been fleeing his screeching cousin. He was right, she had been furious with him.
"What did you do?! What the fuck did you do Yoosung?! Why?! Why would you do this?!" She screeched pressing her finger into his chest, the newspaper in her fisted hand. Jumin had not even bothered to let her know. She'd found out like everyone else. Her scream had been loud and ear splitting. Yoosung rolled his eyes and turned away from the banshee.
She grabbed his arm and yanked him back around, her fingers digging into his arm as she slammed the door closed behind her. He had contemplated not answering the furious banging at all, but he was more concerned that she would cause a scene in the hallway, pulling his neighbors out.
He grabbed her wrist, ripping her fingers from their grasp on him and pushed her backwards. She gasped, her eyes flaring dangerously.
"You're hurting me!" she yanked her hand free, tears welling in her eyes. Yoosung paid them no mind. She was far from the proverbial damsel in distress. He sighed and dropped onto his sofa, laying on his back, his head leaning against the arm.
"How much did he pay you? Do you have any idea what you've done? What...what Jumin will do to me now?" She grated and droned on. He let her vent her frustration, the words gaining no purchase in his mind. She loomed over him, her hands in fists. He knew she wanted to throttle him, but she was also trying to calculate how far she would be able to push him before he retaliated. Or how that retaliation would manifest itself. He had to admit, he admired her determination and bravery. She had to know that it was possible Jumin had asked him to eliminate her as well. Yet, here she was, as brash as ever.
"Calm your tits!" Yoosung interjected. He grabbed his laptop from the coffee table and placed it on his chest.
“How vulgar!” she spat.
“If you’d wanted me to stay the nice guy, you should have let me be.” He countered.
Those days were long gone. He sometimes wondered how things would be different had he said no to Rika and Jumin’s offer. No matter, here is where he was, and he was happy. He logged onto the LOLOL Shooting Star server and waited for the game to load.
“What are you doing? Didn’t you hear me?! Jumin is going to kill me Yoosung!”
“Then what are you doing here?” he asked absently.
“You’re my cousin! How could you choose that man over me? I need you!”
Yoosung rolled his eyes and his mood was suddenly flipped upside down as the familiar ‘servers down for maintenance’ blinked on the screen.
“Fuck!” he slammed the laptop closed and tossed it on the sofa at his feet as he sat up.
“Yoosung!” she grabbed him again and he pushed her away.
“Damn it Rika! This is your own fault! Your own ambition and blindness! You thought that old man was going to protect you forever? What do you think would have happened even if you’d managed to marry Jumin? Pop out a couple of heirs and he wouldn’t kill you as soon as his father was dead anyway? How long have you known the man? What use to him would you have been after already being a brood mare?”
Rika slapped him hard, the ring on her finger leaving a scratch across his cheek. She backed up immediately as the realization of what she had just done dawned on her. She held her hand up towards Yoosung.
He turned his head slowly towards her, eyes blazing with anger. He lashed out and wrapped his hand around her throat. He pushed against her and she scuttled backwards until her back hit the wall. He pressed harder then leaned in close to her ear.
“Do that again, and I will not hesitate to snap your fucking neck! You’re pissed because I didn’t take your side? You should be thanking god you are my cousin, because if you weren’t, you’d be dead right now. Settle your shit with Jumin and keep me out of it!”
He shoved away from her, walking away. He grabbed his blue hoodie from the hook and pulled it on.
“Where are you going?” she rasped.
“None of your business.” He growled.
“Yoosung, please. I need to know I can count on you! That I can trust you!”
“You know where my loyalties are Rika.” He didn’t respond to the questions she tossed at him as he headed towards the door.
“You owe me! Damn you son of a bitch! We’re not done!” she squawked.
"I'm not doing this right now. We can talk when you regain control." Yoosung walked out the door, her screams following him down the stairs and across the sidewalk. He pulled his hoodie over his head and put in his ear buds, turning his music up all the way.
He strolled toward the subway, intending to ride it and try to clear his head. He finally decided to hop off randomly.
Once above ground, he looked around.
“Fuck.”
He was in the Kim Family territory. He thought about just getting back on the subway, but, what the hell. The sudden feeling of danger around every corner was intoxicating and thrilling. He pulled his hood further down, hiding most of his face and hair. He put the earbuds away, needing to be aware of his surroundings.
He walked down several random streets, nothing interesting happening. He was beginning to get bored. He was just about to turn around when he saw two red heads bouncing towards him. He kept a steady pace towards them until he was sure they were the Choi twins. He crossed the street so he wouldn’t pass them too closely, then ducked into an alley when he saw them enter a restaurant.
Now, here he was, his heart beating furiously as he watched the two. He made sure to stay hidden as best he could, but he couldn’t help studying them. How often would he find himself in this kind of position? He knew Jumin would not be pleased if he ever found out. But who was going to tell him? He grinned and settled in.
They ate quickly, especially Saeran, who seemed rather anxious. Soon enough they were paying, Saeyoung flirting with the waitress again, and walking out the door. Yoosung debated whether or not to follow them, but he figured, he was probably already pushing it. He would wait until they were gone and head back to the subway and home. If he was lucky, Rika would be long gone.
The twins did not move away immediately. He could almost catch their conversation, but it was nothing but mumbling from his vantage point.
They surprisingly broke apart, with Saeyoung going back the way they’d come and Saeran crossing the street towards him. Yoosung backed further into the alley way, into the shadows, pressing himself against the wall. He couldn’t have been seen. If he had, they would both be heading towards him. Suddenly, Yoosung was worried that they were trying to trap him. Was Saeyoung at this moment running around the block to the other side of this alley? He clutched at his dagger and waited, listening for the forthcoming footsteps. It didn’t take long, he could hear Saeran’s shoes getting closer. The man walked right past him, not slowing down, not even glancing into the dark alley. Was he that unaware? Or that sure of himself. He pushed away from the wall and began to follow the man. It wasn’t really a decision; his body just did whatever it wanted.
There was enough of a crowd still on the streets that he could blend in somewhat. He kept his head down, but his eyes were locked on Saeran’s shoes. They walked a few blocks without turning. Yoosung wondered why the man didn’t have a vehicle if he was going to be doing this much walking. It was a brief thought, perhaps he was like him, Yoosung enjoyed walking places. It helped him better stay aware of those around him.
Saeran took a right up ahead and Yoosung slowed down. He neared the corner and peeked around it. Saeran was already more than halfway down the block and he had crossed the street. Damn! Yoosung crossed hurriedly and tried to catch up without running. They were close to the subway now. Yoosung could just do the safe thing and leave. Saeran took a left and Yoosung stopped. He could either keep following the man, or he could go home. His feet began to move. He took the next left and was just in time to see Saeran step into a doorway of what looked like an abandoned warehouse. The building was small, it’s large windows, about 20 feet above the ground, were mostly broken, shattered glass still littered the sidewalk. There was no one on this street in either direction. His hackles were up. He should definitely leave now.
He reached the door and tried it. Not locked. Yoosung took a deep breath and pushed it open. It was silent, the darkness inside broken only by the light of the street lamps shining through the broken windows. It was musty, the ground thick with dust. What the hell was Saeran doing here? He could clearly see foot prints heading deeper into the building towards a small room in the center. The office probably. As he stepped into the warehouse, as light was turned on in the small room. Yoosung pushed the door closed and made his way towards the room. There was plenty to hide behind. Boxes and crates littered the floor. The beams were thick enough to hide his entire body. He kept glancing down at the foot prints, making sure they didn’t deviate from their path.
Sure enough, they ended at the door. He pressed himself against the wall, his dagger in his hand. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if he was discovered. Neither Jumin nor V would be happy if one of them ended up killing the other. In fact, they would be livid.
“Are you just gonna’ stand there fingering your dagger or are you going to come in?” The voice filtered through the slightly open door. The tone was inviting, and a little amused.
Yoosung grinned and shook his head. The man had known he was being followed, and he had stepped right into the trap. If that’s what this was. Had he really wanted to trap him; he would not have given himself away like that. This was something else. An invitation. But an invitation to what?
He pushed the door open and stepped into the lit room.
Saeran stood against the opposite wall, his own dagger in his hands. He twirled it against his finger, completely at ease.
“Hello Yoosung.”
“Hello Saeran.” He countered. Saeran’s eyebrows arched up. He must not be used to people being able to tell him apart from his twin.
“It’s not that hard.” Yoosung answered the unasked question. He stepped further in and pointed towards Saeran with his dagger. “You’re leaner, Saeyoung has more muscle. He got his scar in a fight, you did that to yourself, it’s too straight, not jagged like his. He walks with purpose, as if he has to be somewhere fast, you, ‘saunter’.” He air quoted with a laugh.
“Saunter?” Saeran pushed away from the wall, his face a mask of barely contained fury.
Yoosung laughed again. “I wasn’t being rude. I was just letting you know how I can tell you apart.”
Saeran’s lips thinned out, but he looked visibly less angry. He was quick to temper, just like Yoosung. That was something new to file away.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Yoosung shrugged, “I found myself here and decided to…take a stroll.”
“I could have killed you you know. I saw you, in the alley, across the restaurant.”
“If that was true, you would have told your brother. Or is here already here? Hiding somewhere?” Yoosung looked around, but there was no sign of Saeyoung. He hadn’t really expected one though. If they had lay a trap, he was well and caught, but they would pay for taking him down.
“Forget about him. I was hoping you would follow me.”
“Is that so? Why?”
“If we fight, and one of us dies, that would be bad.” Saeran arched an eyebrow and his mouth pouted. “But, if we fight, let’s say, until one of us gives, well, then we could see who the better fighter is without getting the families involved.” He grinned.
So that was his angle. Yoosung had to admit, he was curious himself if the red head was any kind of real threat. Together the twins were something to be wary of. But Saeran alone? Was he disciplined enough to beat him?
“What are the rules?” he asked, leaning on his right side, his hip out.
“Only one, no killing blows.”
“Oh, I think we should also make another. No permanent harm to the face! I’d hate to have Saeyoung mutilate his face more to keep up with the whole identical thing. I’m not sure he would do it, like you did.”
Saeran clenched his jaws. This was going to be too easy; he was already off balance. The man might be stronger than Yoosung, but he did not have any control over it.
“Done!” he agreed.
“Done!” Yoosung echoed. They both pulled another dagger from their stashes and began to circle each other.
#my posts#MM Mafia AU#Yooran#Yoosung#Saeran#mysme#Mystic Messenger#starting to get good#if only I had time to write!
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TGCF Snakes On a Plane AU starring Ban Yue as an orphan with a collection of 3,000 snakes which she brings with her on a journey to an orphanage. General Ke Mo is the long-suffering pilot, Pei Ming is that asshole who hits on women, Pei Su is his biologist son who is embarrassed by his very existence. Eventually Pei Su helps Ban Yue in collecting all her precious snakes and putting them back in their containers.
Xie Lian feels his bad luck caused the snakes to break loose, but San Lang (who gave him his window seat and spent the whole flight flirting with him) insists the problem is the quality of the duct tape instead. Bc there was duct tape used on the boxes.... not the smartest idea but how else is an orphan going to load 3,000 snakes on a plane????
By the end of this experience, Xie Lian's Dad Instincts have been activated, Pei Su is ready to become Ban Yue's older brother, and Ke Mo (who has a secret fear of snakes) just wants to retire so he can leave this plane forever. By the end of it, Hua Cheng has bought several things online that Xie Lian mentioned he had to do without, and even put his info in Xie Lian's phone.
Ling Wen fixed the plane in midair because she used to be a mechanic, and since knowing practical stuff like engines helps her fix the plane she saves them enough to let Ke Mo land the plane. I feel like she wouldn't panic even if snakes are falling on her, so she probably fixed the engine wearing at least 3 snakes as a scarf. Any more snakes and she'd probably put them on the nearest item so she can move around.
Also by the end of it Ling Wen wants to keep her scarf snakes bc she likes having the company. Xie Lian wants to adopt one too, but only a snake that's going to grow up small. Hua Cheng immediately orders luxury snake cages, immediately trying to curry favor with him.
Jun Wu is an old grandpa and he offers to take some of the snakes until Ban Yue finds a home. He's only ever had dogs but he'll be damned if he can't learn.
At the start of the airplane ride, Feng Xin and Mu Qing fought for the window seat in front of Xie Lian, eventually Mu Qing won. Behind them Hua Cheng smiled and pointedly offered Xie Lian his window seat. He slipped his arm around Xie Lian's shoulders and the two bickering before only turned their heads around to glare at this rando for daring to make a move on their friend.
Hua Cheng was some rich kid who was saved from a concussion when a ball from a baseball game went flying towards him at high speeds. Little Xie Lian, who was also sitting nearby and had brought a glove, reached over and caught it. He gave it to Hua Cheng with a sigh, telling him to be careful from then on. Hua Cheng had asked his name, and Xie Lian had unwittingly told him. From then on, Hua Cheng tried to unsuccessfully gain Xie Lian's attention.
They had both gotten into the same college. Hua Cheng despaired in his first year, however, groaning hopelessly among the stacks. Xie Lian, who was scribbling a paper nearby, reached over and handed the last of his snacks to this random depressed person among the bookshelves. He was obviously hungry- his stomach confirmed that- yet he gave away the last of his food with some encouraging words and returned to writing.
He didn't know how many times Hua Cheng stopped by his dorm room, awed, reverent, yet kept away by the glares of Xie Lian's roommates. They knew their friend was gay, and they knew assholes would want to date him, so they did their best to keep him from meeting Hua Cheng.
Even the handwritten note thanking Xie Lian for saving him didn't seem adequate. Hua Cheng tore it up and flopped dramatically on his bed. He'd seen Xie Lian that morning and that was enough to inspire him to keep going.
When college was over, he went back to whatever his parents wanted him to do, but it wasn't enough. He kept checking on what Xie Lian would be doing, until finally he overheard Xie Lian excitedly telling Feng Xin and Mu Qing about the trip they were going to take. So Hua Cheng could only book a ticket on the same plane trip.
Mu Qing had the nerve to snark at Hua Cheng. "Break our best friend's heart, playboy, and we'll break your face."
"Believe me, you'd have to bring me back to life to kill me a fourth time if that ever happened," Hua Cheng just laughed.
"San Lang, you're so funny," Xie Lian murmured. "How would they find your soul the 2nd time, let alone the 4th??"
"I'd die several times over before breaking your heart Gege." Hua Cheng tossed him a red stress ball with silver butterflies on it making a pattern like the stitches on a baseball. Xie Lian caught it, tracing his fingers over that unique pattern.
"Here, keep this. It's my promise to you." He stretched, yawning, curling his hand around Xie Lian's shoulder, making him go red and shift awkwardly in surprise.
Throughout the whole plane ride, Xie Lian's getting hit on by this guy who he assumes is an Airplane Rando, but Hua Cheng is talking to him like they're already close. Maybe he's just a really forward person??
Behind them is this little kid who looks scared and uncertain. She is holding her favorite pet snake and looks terrified.
Xie Lian immediately lends her a dog-eared copy of his favorite book to cheer her up. He gives out crayons, coloring books, pencils- you name it. Ban Yue is having a grand old time, coloring flowers in while she tells Xie Lian about how she's bringing all her snakes with her. By this time the snakes are escaping their boxes, but haven't reached the cabin yet.
Ban Yue loves snakes because they're chill, great listeners, and she has someone to protect. Xie Lian tells her that's wonderful, and if her favorite snake is her only one.
By this point, the snakes have found the cabin's ventilation shaft. They are free from their cardboard prison and spread out to explore this large metal box.
Pilot Ke Mo hits some turbulence. Passenger Ling Wen, who was just flipping through engine forums, slams her laptop shut as she hears something go wrong with the plane. She makes her way to the attendant and whispers a plan as the plane's nose dips unsteadily.
Xie Lian buries his face in his hands. "I knew I shouldn't have gone on this trip! Now our plane is going to crash."
"Gege won't crash, I'll protect you with my body so you'll never hit the floor," Hua Cheng draws him to his chest and murmurs comfortingly.
"Shameless!"
"Too shameless!"
"Don't listen to them, Gege. They are jealous of our love~"
Xie Lian resists the urge to ask how he can fall in love with someone he doesn't even know, when he turns around and sees Ban Yue squinting at the vents.
She holds not just her favorite snake, but two now.
"That's funny, I could have sworn I only brought this one with me. How on earth could the others..."
Screams of anger and shouts of alarm echo throughout the plane. The flight attendant had let mechanic Ling Wen have a look at the airplane, and was then notifying pilot Ke Mo of the situation. Ke Mo agreed to make gentle spirals to slow their descent and give Ling Wen time to fix things. However, he wouldn't have anticipated a snake dropping into his lap so that he'd scream and lurch the whole plane forwards!!!
Screams echo throughout the cabin; other passengers must be feeling similarly.
Xie Lian takes all his luggage out of his bag and gives it to Ban Yue for collecting her snakes in. He then picks up the snake around his neck and drops it in there. Hua Cheng immediately offers to put Xie Lian's stuff in with his own stuff. Xie Lian is grateful.
Xie Lian and Ban Yue go down the aisle collecting snakes and apologizing to the over passengers. Jun Wu is deadpan handing over his snake and asks if he can keep it.
Ban Yue is shocked but shakes her head. These are her snakes, and she knows how to take care of them thank you very much.
They continue in this way until Xie Lian is bitten by a snake. Hua Cheng runs up immediately because he "wants to suck out the venom" but Xie Lian stops him by asking what's the point of Hua Cheng also ingesting it too.
"The point is that if anything happens to you, I won't forgive myself!"
Pei Su who has been calmly reading the newspaper this whole time, clears his throat. "Actually, it doesn't have the proper markings. This snake is not venomous."
Ban Yue's eyes lit up. A fellow snake expert?
Soon Pei Su is explaining to whoever is nearby what kind of snake has just landed on them. He joins the crew going down the aisle stuffing snakes into Xie Lian's bag. Eventually, they run out of bag and Ban Yue thinks to check the duct tape on her packaging... d*mn, did the duct tape get loose again?!? She'd have to check and see. A bad feeling for that mechanic arose within her.
Meanwhile in the cockpit, Ke Mo is hollering mad and shaking with fright. "I have HAD IT up to Here with these MOTHER F*CKING SNAKES on this MOTHER F*CKING PLANE!!!" as more and more of the snakes drop from the vents. He has truly tried to stop the plane from landing right away but his stress is mounting.
Meanwhile Ling Wen is fixing the plane while covered in snakes and completely unfazed abt it. She wipes sweat off her brow and pets the snakes hanging off her arms. A look of concentration crosses her face as she adjusts some more things. "Almost there..."
THANKS FOR READING SO FAR BUT IM REALLY FUCKING TIRED. I GOT OUT ALL MY IMPORTANT PLANNING THOUGHTS SO I MIGHT ORGANIZE THIS INTO A PROPER FIC IN THE FUTURE. STAY TUNED
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Colours: Purple
Rating: Teen and up
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Relationships: Tamaki & Kyoya, Kaoru & Kyoya, Tachibana & Kyoya
Trigger Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts, panic attack
Summary: He stared at Kaoru's purple waistcoat, trying to dissociate himself from these feelings. It didn't work. Purple was a colour, and it all seemed to have bled out over the past God-knows-how-long.
Other fanfics in this series: Grey / Blue / Yellow / Green
Things were never perfect for him, of course, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that he crashed the next day; spirit in a bloodied, crumpled mess that was starting to rot. That basically summed up how he felt in that moment. He was less dizzy, managing to eat more of his dinner than he had in weeks, but he just felt nauseous and slow. Just… tired.
Those thoughts were pesky also, refusing to leave him alone. They were violent, intrusive, and left him shaky and… scared. What if he actually did something? He had painkillers and sleeping pills in his ensuite, there was strong rope in the garden shed, he had a million and one leather belts. Even Hotta shaved with a fucking straight razor, which would be more than easy to take to his arms or throat.
This was messed up. He was messed up, and he didn’t understand because he shouldn’t want to die. It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t happy, but life was good.
He was failing his classes, becoming a smear of dirt on the Ootori name.
But it was fine! He’d get better, he’d drag his grades out of the gutter, and he’d ask if he could redo any work that did go towards his final grade; it was still fixable. Besides, it wasn’t like a couple of bad grades were enough to commit suicide over. You get one life, and then it’s whatever lies after – if anything does.
Briefly, he remembers when he was a child and he put on his choir uniform every Sunday, believed in God and heaven and ran fast enough so the devil couldn’t catch him. It’s not like his father was religious, more that it was something that his British grandmother did. It was simply a tradition, and grandmother was the nice one, not like his grandfather; his father always looked so… scared around the man. Well, as scared as he ever looked, he supposed. But he digressed, this wasn’t a discussion on parental failings, it was deciding whether suicide was even worth it.
He was a burden. That was a good reason.
Japan’s attitude towards suicide had a certain duality; it was taboo, and frowned upon, unless the person recognised they were a burden. Then, it was seen as the right thing to do. Granted, it was an extremely old attitude to have, times changed, but… He was a burden. He was nothing but a child his mother and father had conceived by accident, and someone without a place. You could argue he had one in the host club, but… Not anymore. He didn’t do anything. He… He was nothing but a burden, with this thing in his head.
Maybe before that, too. Maybe he always was one. In that case… Maybe…
He wandered through the school day in silence, pondering his usefulness and, essentially… Whether he deserved to live. It wasn’t like he was truly living, anyway; he felt pretty dead inside. Nothing but a hollow shell with a quiet voice and a forced, absent smile. It’d be like… deleting an unwanted file on his laptop; no one mourned it, after all.
Maybe he was oversimplifying this. After all, it’s not as if he should commit suicide, because he shouldn’t take it so lightly. If he made it that impersonal, then he was actually going to do it. He was going to kill himself. That’s it, game over. It wasn’t like he believed in the bible anymore, but it certainly wouldn’t be heaven waiting on the other side.
“Hey,” A heavy hand came down on his shoulder and he practically jumped out of his skin, the room swaying for a second before the three Tamaki’s in front of him merged into one once more. Some minor dehydration, malnutrition, that was all, “You look tired, and I can tell you haven’t been focussing today… Go take a nap in the back.”
And thus, he was sent away. A childish thought to have, but it just kept jabbing at him. After all, he thought that he, Kuze and Kanan got along like a house on fire until they both up and left him; their parting gift the realisation that he had no real friends, and that he was swimming with leeches. In a cruel twist of irony, now he was the leech among the swimmers.
It’s depressingly hilarious how life turns out sometimes.
He stood, feet unsteady for half a second until he digs his heels in, forcing himself to move towards the back room and the plush couch within.
“Oh, and Kyoya,” Tamaki calls at his back, and he turns around like the obedient little love-struck puppy he used to be – and, sometimes, still is, “You know… You can tell me if anything’s wrong. You’re just… You’re so pale, and thin… Well, even more so than you usually are. You’d tell me if… If…”
If you were dying.
The words hang in the air, almost physically tangible, and Kyoya has to consider his answer. Is he dying? The answer Tamaki wants to hear is no… Or is it? No, Tamaki wants him alive. Tamaki loves him, even if it’s not like that. Tamaki would never want him dead. However… The answer is looking more and more like a yes as the hours tick passed, and he doesn’t want to lie. He’s sick of lying.
“Come on, spit it out,” He says instead, and Tamaki looks like a fish with the way his mouth is opening and closing, until Kyoya gets his desired outcome for the first time in what feels like forever.
“Nothing… Nevermind,” Tamaki waved away, visibly deflated. Despite the nagging guilt Kyoya felt… relieved. You could say that he dodged the proverbial bullet, but it feels more apt to say he side-stepped straight into its path.
He just went to the back room, painfully obedient, and dropped down onto the spare sofa that resided there. It was still good, but there was a small tear in the seam that needed to be stitched up; the slightest flaw relegating it to be hidden away. Wasn’t that a cheery observation to overthink completely?
He more fell to the side than anything else, eyes closing and still despite the sloppy sprawl he was currently laying in. He didn’t even move to loosen his tie. He just wanted to sleep, really. If he was asleep, then he wasn’t overthinking every little thing…
He didn’t know how long it’d been when he heard the door creak open, groggily blinking his eyes open once more to be faced with Kaoru, a look of worry etched on the redhead’s features. There was a pause when their eyes met, something tangible but indistinguishable in the air. Really, he just wanted to go back to sleep, but there was something in the way Kaoru shifted his weight from foot to foot; something awkward, which meant this was probably important. Besides, he liked Kaoru’s company; it just so happened that there wasn’t much to be had recently.
Breaking the near-trance, Kaoru walked over and perched on the edge of the sofa, right next to Kyoya. He bit his lip, and Kyoya was nothing but patient in waiting for the opening statement – both out of politeness and procrastination. He didn’t really want to talk about anything heavy, not now, but he would. Kyoya Ootori, despite what seemed to be popular opinion, was not selfish.
“So…” Kaoru began, voice soft and tentative, “I just wanted to apologise. I guess I’ve kinda been avoiding you lately? Not on purpose, but yeah… I shouldn’t have done that. You’re sick, and I was just being selfish; it’s disturbing and upsetting to see you like this.”
Kyoya just blinked up at him, groggy mind fumbling as he tried to process the feelings of hurt, rejection, and general confusion at the fact he hadn’t even realised. Still, there was gratefulness. Gratefulness that, if Kaoru was apologising, then they could spend more time together. Tamaki might’ve been his best friend, but there was just something about Kaoru that made him feel… warm. Like he was laying somewhere quiet, intimate, the sun shining on his face and lush grass against his skin.
“Can you… say something?” Kaoru prompted, laughing nervously, “You’re a good friend, Kyoya; I don’t want to lose you because I did something stupid.”
“It’s fine,” He answered, too faint but immediate, “I… I have been sick, for a while now. I don’t know if I’ll be well again. It feels like I’ll never get better. It feels like it’s been years, but they passed by in a few hours. I’m a mess right now.”
That was another thing, telling the truth. More than that, spilling his guts. His tongue was looser, his mask thinner, and he felt afraid but not at the same time. It wasn’t the full truth, not the admission of what said sickness was; no mention of depression. It was three words; Kaoru, I’m depressed. But he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t be a useless Menhera, like her. He was too much like his mother to begin with, he didn’t need to hear that as well. He just stared at the waistcoat Kaoru was wearing, a lovely, rich purple, and tried to dissociate from those feelings.
“Then I’ll be here for you… We all are, y’know,” Kaoru breathed, hand raking through Kyoya’s hair, “Jeez… When was the last time you took a shower? Your hair’s greasy, but it’s like you just dumped a load of dry shampoo in it…”
“I’ve been too tired,” He sighed, cheeks burning as he screwed his eyes shut, “I can barely brush my teeth sometimes… My homework’s incomplete, late, and just plain awful. I don’t know how to get the motivation for anything I used to do… It’s pathetic.”
“No… You’re sick, I… I was rude,” Kaoru sighed, hand still stroking through his disgusting hair, “It’s not healthy, you should at least try and take care of yourself, but I get it. You’re always falling asleep, so I guess it makes sense.”
Yuuichi worked himself to the point of fainting, Akito had a temper, Fuyumi was a doormat, his father was too stern and too close to giving up, and his mother was sick. What was going to be his fate? Was he going to be miserable when he grew up?
He was. He had no right to be, but he’d fallen, and that diamond mask turned out to be nothing but glass, shattering and cutting him to ribbons in the process. No one ever saw the scars, both metaphorical and real, because he didn’t let them. Kyoya Ootori was strong. He wasn’t little Kyo-chan anymore, who cried because he didn’t have any real friends.
He was Ootori-san. He overworked himself until dizzy, got angry over stupid – reasonable – things, was wrapped around Tamaki’s little finger, too stern and commanding of his friends…
And he was going to kill himself.
The realisation made it hard to breathe, but he didn’t let on. He pulled together what shreds of his mask remained and acted the part of himself once more. It wasn’t completely convincing, not by his own standards, but it was passible, and he found that he didn’t care so much about perfection anymore.
“Maybe you should get back to the club, the girls will surely miss you,” He suggested, closing his eyes once more and placing his head back on the under-stuffed cushion. He focussed on his breathing, feeling as if he was submerged underwater as he tried to keep it slow. As Akito said, all those years ago, they had to be normal to counterbalance it all. Besides… He didn’t want Kaoru to see him like that. To see the blood pouring from him along with the colour.
“Right…” Kaoru breathes out, unsure but with a taint of relief, and the hand leaves his hair. The pressure at his side elevates, he has more room to not breathe, and he hears footsteps, “See you, Senpai; I’m here if you need me.”
With that, the door closes, and he can’t remember when it was ever truly open to him. He just lets himself breakdown, breaths too fast and too shallow, the oxygen refusing to enter his lungs. He’s choking on air, like he did as a child, feeling like the walls of the small room are closing in and crushing him. Really, it’s realisation. The realisation that he has power over his own life; successes and failures, but also its span.
He could die right now, if he wanted to. Some part of him does.
Tears that are clear – still not blue – and salty ran down from his eyes, and he bit on his hand to try and muffle his hyperventilated sobbing. It was alright, he was safe, he was fine; but he wasn’t. He did this to himself, and that was a crushing thought. He had the power to die just as he had the power to live, but he couldn’t do that to his friends; he couldn’t leave them alone.
Because isn’t that how this started, being left alone?
Of course, he had to go home eventually. All he could really do was try to hide his face as he bolted from the room, down to the car and all but fell into the back seat. It was completely without grace, but who really cared? The act was unusual, would be questioned tomorrow, but he didn’t want them to see that he’d been crying. Irrational, but it felt like he had to. Like if he ran, he’d be safe, when in reality it was different; all it did was make his head spin.
“Master Kyoya?” Tachibana questioned, peering at him through the rear-view mirror. He didn’t raise his head, keeping his gaze aimed at the floor, silent as to not let his voice give it all away. True to form, after a few moments of silence, he heard the rustle of Tachibana’s usual newspaper as he folded it and placed it on the front seat. The car started, and that was that, no instruction needed.
After all, why would Tachibana need instruction? The man was more of a father to him than his own was, after all; nuances were all he needed. He was a good man, and one of the things that kept Kyoya rooted to this life like an anchor; something he was both grateful and frustrated with him for. If he could leave, waltz out the door into… anything else, he would. However, there was Tachibana, Hotta and Aijima there at the door, stopping him without even realising it.
“Kyoya?”
That second inquiry, barely able to be heard over the rumble of the engine, was enough to get him to at least look up a little. Any other time, he’d tell Tachibana to keep his eyes on the road, but right now… He could barely form the words.
“Are you alright? You’re shaking…” Tachibana observed, their eyes meeting in the reflection. There was concern, and a little fear, and a small half-sob managed to escape him, “You’ve been crying…”
“I’m sorry,” He murmured, so small and scared, “I… I’m not alright. I don’t think I’ll ever b-be alright. I… I’m breaking, I… Bana…”
He was so close to breaking down, so close to sobbing his heart out once more, despite the pounding in his head. Crying hurt, talking hurt, living hurt. It was all pain after pain, and he had to question what it was all for. He had no will and no motivation, he was nothing but an empty shadow drifting through his life, and it was all so distant to him. Why try? Why should he keep floundering when all he wanted to do was let himself drown, too tired of fighting the current pulling him down?
“Hang on,” Tachibana intoned so gently, pulling the car over to the side of the road and parking up. The door opened, pushed closed without much force, as if the noise would just shatter him more than he already was. Tachibana could see the blood, could see the wounds, and it was all laid painfully bare.
His own door opened, and a strong hand rested on his bony shoulder, concern coming off his dear bodyguard in waves. “Please, Kyoya… Tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?” He murmured, and Kyoya just gave an awfully wet, ugly sniffle in response. It was just them, gentle circles rubbed along his shoulder in an effort to soothe him, and the truth just… spilled.
“I want to die,” He stated, thick and frenzied and so horribly truthful, “I want to die, I’ve had enough, I want to just stop breathing… I-I can’t handle it, Bana. I can’t do it anymore. I want to die… I… Help me… Help…”
Tachibana’s strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a desperation-tainted hug, and it was like he was a little boy again. Back when he sobbed because he fell off the swings and scrapped up his hands, not because he wanted to commit suicide. Back before he knew a person could want to die, before his mother got really bad.
“You’re alright… You’re here… Breathe, Kyo, breathe…” The older man repeated, over and over, like he was reciting a mantra. He swore he could hear the other man crying, and that guilt lodged itself in his chest again, and he thought he’d die right then and there.
Because he wasn’t alright. Kyoya Ootori had never been alright.
#ouran high school host club#ohshc#kyoya ootori#tamaki suoh#kaoru hitachiin#my fanfiction#original#colours series#technicolour mental state series
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Me as we speak. Beers and cigs. In a park for it to more "normal" to drink than in my apartment, nut yeah.. alone in a park with no friends and beers aren't, eh.. the thing. Would be nice if it would cure my fucking brain. As for now, the beers only numb me. Unfortunately. And oh yeah, heavy metal forever I'm so stressed right now. Like my heart and mind are racing - I took a pill to slow down my heart beat, and I had 3 with me.. I'm allowed to take 4 in 24 yours if I need it, if I'm extremely nervous regarding something. I REALLY have the urge to take the rest 2 I have on me.... like if it would stop my heart from beating I wouldn't have these fucking thoughts and diagnosises (English isn't my main language, in lack of a better word), I would be not here. Like gone. But at the same time I'm sad about the thoughts of hurting my family and few friends. I attempted suicide a few years ago (I know you can't commit suicide with these 3 silly pills but you get me if you know about being suicidal). My family got very worried, even though I've had depression and anxiety for yearrrrrs. I just opened my second can of beer and I just want to cry. Even tho I don't know WTF to cry over. I'm numb, but depressed. Can't feel WTF I'm feeling, even tho I feel very, very sad. I hate it. I can't feel myself, and that wants me to cut EVEN more, which is a fucking bad combo. Last time I cut myself very bad, I was sooo drunk it didn't even hurt. It only hurt the day after, physically and hurt way more mentally. The doctor said I had cut at least 2-3 cm deep, which is like 1 inch US, I guess. And 10 cm long - 3-4 inches (?). If I had hit a vein (it was in my thigh where very big veins are) I would not have been sitting here omw to be drunk and cutting again. It is a miracle I didn't hit a vein so deep it was and I would have bleed to death, because it took hours to get someone to have time to get to my apartment. The nurse said it NO DOUBT should've been stitched, but my parents wouldn't take me to the ER..... On one side, I wish I had bleed to death because then I didn't have the fucking problems I have. I would be at peace, like Chester Bennington (I really liked Linkin Park's old heavy music, but I realised their song Heavy was exactly how I felt and feel, but because I don't like pop, I didn't listen to it then). And.... on the other side, I know how much it would hurt my family, well, kinda, some of the peeps didn't show much emotions when I attempted suicide) While writing this I haven't counted the cigs and beers I've had, and I have no intention of going home to my apartment right now. My main goal this evening is to find the way to my apartment and not do too much fucked up stuff to myself. Not so I need medical attention, because it is so damn embarrassing, and because my nurse knows me, she knows I can't lie about how I "fell", looking up my journals and shit. But at the same time it makes my parents realize the pain I'm in and have been for years. It's very divided. After I cut myself very badly, they took me to their house, but they wouldn't get me to the ER, even tho it was no doubt to be stitched. And at my parents' they store loads of loads of beers, "in case the neighbors or some friends would drop by", so yeah, they have started my problem with alcohol. Ironically while I'm sitting drinking beers on a Tuesday night (well, it's Summer holiday, who counts). They don't think they have a problem with alcohol *cough* x10000000, but my mom ALWAYS ask me if I have been drinking and how much. I have been encouraged to ask her the same, so she knows how fucking annoying it is to be asked, but I don't dare it. Especially because they help me finance me living in my own apartment, away from THEM. So I don't want any trouble there. But again I want her to know how annoying it is. Like frustrating, but I don't dare. Again - very divided... I hate my depression, and I hate my anxiety. I logically want to bond and make friends but my anxiety tells me "hell no!". And my depression makes me feel like I'm not even worth friends. I take meds and all but I'm still stuck and alienated because I'm transgender. A psychologist told me I cut like a girl. And another wanted me to explain how my genitals look like. And the "official" clinic to "treat" transgender people don't believe I can have anxiety and depression because "you can't have both"?! I have been on T for 4 years, and it's 4 years since my top surgery, but nope, because cis people can't be depressed and know their gender identity...... fuck them. Unfortunately I can't because they're the only ones allowed to treat us So, this rant has already gone thru a lot of topics, both back and forth. At the moment I don't want to be here, alive, but at the same time I won't tell my parents because it's so toxic being there. Both me getting anxious about my dad, but also about them having tons of beers available. My mom can feel and see me being depressed, so I hope she doesn't want to visit me, because she will know right away. And I just don't want to go to their place even tho I want hugs and knowing everything will be ok. But it won't. I just know. I've officially been like this since I was 15, and I'm 22 now. And I've had anxiety all my life. Because of my dad's uncontrollable, spontaneous rage. I don't want to go there, but I want help financially (because then I can't even pay my food, and no cigs or tobacco, oh shit), and I want to stay neutral so to say. It's past my time to take my evening pill, Seroquel.. It normally treats schizophrenia, but in low doses it's against anxiety and depression. It makes me sleep kinda ok. I couldn't be without that pill. On one hand, I just want to cut, cut to actually feel myself. But even tho I'm cautious, I'm scared of fucking up, like the last big cut, and at the same time I want to sleep. Sleep to not having to think (well, having nightmares, but not thinking in a normal way) I don't know. I don't know whether I'll ever get better. In any way. Even with meds, which is fucked because I don't have a psychiatrist anymore. I used all the consultations, and my doctor is transphobic and shit. I Hope my laptop will work and I can game because that has been my escape and extreme joy the past 12(?) years On another note, it's kinda a joy I haven't needed to pee because that's a hurdle as well. I have my STP with me, but it's still a challenge because I'm FTM. This to too much of a turn about being transgender, I'm sorry folks So my decision so far is to have the 2nd last beer I have and then go home. I think. People passing by periodically and I still worry if I pass or not. My thoughts. My fucking thoughts.... can I uninstall my brain somewhere? And like, install better features Trying to get my spirit up with some great heavy metal, well metal of all kinds. I hate pop but metal is so satisfying And regarding bad thoughts, when I bought the beers, I calmly thought about being hit by car. As if i "fell" while the lights were red. Why the fuck do I have these thoughts.. Again, what the.... fuck?!
#depression#depressed#depressive#anxiety#anxious#suicide#suicidal#suicidal thoughts#linkin park#chester bennington#beer#cigarette#cigs#cigarettes#fml#fucked up#drunk#drinking#ftm#transgender#ftm transgender#STP#do i pass
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