#before you ask no Alex bought himself those short ass shorts
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I know you're beta-ing my fic (love ya) but couldn't resist. Number 25 or 26 for the drabble challenge please 🙏
Ngl I really like this one!! Also it’s unedited so beware 💀and if you guys haven’t checked out Alex’s stuff, you should!! It’s amazing!😉
Word Count: 1.7K
Prompts: “Aren’t you supposed to be the adult?” // “I’m stuck! Help me!”
Motherhood was never a route Kiara saw herself going down.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be a mother, it was just that with all her dreams and ambitions and goals for the future…it just happened to clash with what she knew she definitely wanted. But that’s how these things always go, doesn’t it? Just when you least expecting it, shit hit the fan and you’re left scrambling around as you try and wrap your head around everything. That’s what happened with Kiara and motherhood. She wasn’t expecting it, it wasn’t planned. But she also wasn’t as opposed to the concept like her younger self was.
Kiara was fourteen when she decided she wanted to travel the world, to see new places and experience new cultures and open her eyes to a world beyond the small island she grew up on. And she did just that, lucky to enough have someone to share the experiences with. With the money they gained from the treasure, JJ and Kie had enough money to go wherever they wanted (after Pope made sure they kept some in the bank so they wouldn’t be idiots and spend it all, well to make sure JJ didn’t). But it was great, it was everything Kiara could’ve wished for her future, for their future.
Except on one of those breaks between adventures, Kiara found herself thrown into the deep-end of adulthood and she was lucky enough to have someone as supportive as JJ by her side.
And that, my friends, is how James Maybank was brought into the world.
Kiara had never seen herself being a mother until the second she held her son in her hands. Tears in her eyes and a wide smile on her face as she looked at the little human she and JJ created was enough for Kiara to realise that having a child didn’t change any of her plans. She and JJ would still travel and have their adventures, they would just have an extra little explorer with them.
James Maybank was the perfect mix of his parents. In terms of looks, he was truly a kid that drew attention to himself. Tousled brown hair that was an exact copy of his mother’s, with little strands of dirty blonde running through his little curls. His skin was tanned and sun-kissed, a warm golden-bronze so fitting for a summer baby. But his eyes—it was his eyes that caught people’s attention. Bright blue just like his father. It was a shock to both parties when they saw those little blue eyes of his. At first, the doctor told them it was common for new-born babies to have blue eyes and their natural eye colour will develop over the next few weeks. Except James’s eyes remained blue—vibrant and captivating and complementing his tanned skin so well and framed so neatly by the little round-rim glasses he wore. Like mentioned before, he was the perfect mix of JJ and Kiara: his eyes and her hair, his nose and her lips, his bone structure but her cheekbones. The perfect product of JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera.
However, despite the physical similarities she shared with her son, his personality was driven straight from the chaos of his father. Wild and rambunctious and energetic. He always kept the couple on their toes: JJ’s scheming skills and Kie’s intelligence was a dangerous combination that James just so happened to have. A little troublemaker even at the ripe age of three.
It’s usually why Kiara avoids leaving the two of them alone together for long periods of time, because who knows what nonsense they would get up to.
And of course, Kiara’s point was proved once again.
It was a hot summer day when JJ suggested they head over to the mainland for a wee day trip, just have a little family day before the big Pogue family trip next week to California. Most of the summer had been spent with the other pogues—not that she minded—and James being coddled by her parents, so Kie was all up for them to spend some time as just the three of them. It was the ideal day: walking around the mainland boutiques, grabbed some ice cream and walked along the beach as they ate it, all before heading towards the little play area that was on the pier that James had been eyeing all day.
They had put all their stuff down at a small café table where Kie was able to grab a seat outside. There was the perfect view of the play area from here. But before she could head over with James, JJ was pushing her down in a seat, telling her to relax and assuring her that he could watch over James while she had a coffee or something. So like the fool she was, she went ahead with JJ’s plan (as though their teenage shenanigans hadn’t taught her that JJ’s plans were always the worst).
However, things were going fairly smoothly. Kie was able to order a tea for herself and indulge in a book she had just bought that day. She was able to relax in the sunshine and enjoy a few moments of piece without her favourite hectic boys. Well, only for a short amount of time before a distressed James came running up to her.
“Mama! Mama!” He was panting and huffing, exhausted from how far he ran on his little legs. His fists gripped the hem of her shirt, tugging on it to gain her attention. And when Kie placed her drink and book down, she noticed how dishevelled his appearance was.
“What’s up, bub?” She asked as she gently fixed his askew glasses so they rested comfortably on his nose. However, before she could even attempt to fix his hair, James was grabbing her hands and attempting to tug her up.
“C’mon!” He whined and Kiara only laughed a little as she finally stood up. In an instant, he began to drag her towards the play area where she assumed that he had built some sandcastle in the sand pit he wanted to show her or even show her some neat trick he learnt on the jungle gym.
But it’s safe to say that she wasn’t expecting to see the sight in front of her.
She pressed her lips together, trying to stop herself from bursting into laughter. “JJ?”
“Kiara!” JJ’s head snapped up, looking relieved to see her. “I’m stuck! Help me!”
JJ Maybank: surfing legend, notorious troublemaker, a little schemer since he learnt how to walk. JJ Maybank: the boy that became the biggest pain in the ass to the OBX police force since they were probably first formed. JJ Maybank: the boy that shocked everyone and became a better man than anyone with his last name ever could.
And now he was JJ Maybank: the 26 year old moron who was currently stuck in a children’s jungle gym. It looked like one of those tunnels that kids climbed through to get from one side of the climbing frame to the other. Except instead of being able to crawl through completely, JJ had his head sticking out whilst everything below his shoulders was stuck in the tunnel.
“Oh, baby, this has gotta be a new record for stupid things you’ve done.” Kiara commented, hand over her mouth but he could tell by the shaking in her shoulders that she was laughing.
“Is Dada gonna be okay?” James spoke up, tugging on Kie’s hand he hadn’t let go of as he glanced between his parents. In an instant, Kie’s expression softened up.
“He’s gonna be fine, bub,” She assured him with a smile as she kneeled down to his height. “No need to be worried, in fact, you should be laughing!” She told him.
“Kiara!”
“Oh.” James muttered, turning to look at his father with his head tilted before he burst into a fit of giggles.
“Great,” JJ muttered bitterly as he stared at the ground. “Now ever my own son is laughing at me!”
“Oh, c’mon, it’s funny!” Kiara countered, arms wrapped around James with her head resting on his shoulder as they both snickered at JJ’s current predicament.
“Just help me get out!” He whined out. “I really need to pee.”
Eventually, Kiara headed back to the table at the café to grab her phone. After taking enough photos for her own amusement later, she called the local authorities that sent a team out to help break JJ out of the jungle gym. It took a total of two hours, by which the time JJ was finally free from his entrapment, the family had to head back to the island if they wanted to catch the last ferry.
“I can’t believe you.” Kie murmured as she leaned against JJ, the young boy fast asleep on their laps as they headed back to the mainland. They spoke in quiet whispers, letting James get the rest he deserved after such an eventful day.
“It wasn’t my fault!” He hissed quietly, looking down at James and gently pushing some hair out of his face. “It was his idea.” He added with a childish pout.
“Aren’t you supposed to be the adult?” She countered, a small smirk tugging on her lips.
“He’s a troublemaker, I’m telling you. Flashes you some puppy dog eyes and suddenly you’re crawling through some hellhole that is designed for Oompa Loompas.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes at the sleeping child. “He’s like an evil little mastermind.”
“Just like his father then.” Kiara commented, only causing JJ to look at her with a shocked expression. “Oh don’t look at me like that! You know I’m right, Jay. You were probably worse than him!”
JJ’s eyes widened slightly before he nodded. “Yeah, no fair enough.” He murmured with a nod before he grinned down at his son. “Ah, I feel like such a proud father knowing he is going to be such a charmer when he’s older.” Kie let out a scoff as she lightly elbowed him, but they both had massive smiles on their faces.
“Let’s just hope he doesn’t take years to finally make a move like his father.” Kie commented.
“Oh, wow, really? That’s the game you’re playing?” He retorted. “You literally made up a whole rule that stopped me from making a move.”
“Should’ve read between the lines.” She said with an innocent shrug. But then she turned to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “But I’m glad you finally did make a move.”
JJ grinned at her before he looked down at James, who was still fast asleep with small snores escaping his lips.
“Yeah, me too.”
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omg hi i don't know if i was able to send my request to you cos my wifi sucks but could you write "things you said while I cried in your arms" and/or "things you said when you thought I was asleep" for alex and henry? :) loved your last one so much!!
~Notes: I’m so sorry I never posted this here my love🥺 But I hope you enjoy this!!! A REBLOG IS WORTH A thouSANd STARS!
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Things You Said | Prompts Closed
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When Henry was being brought up— back before his father’s abrupt death and before he understood the sadness in his mother’s eyes and before the very act of attending family dinners had begun to feel like crossing into enemy territory— the Fox Mountchristen Windsors would spend their summers in the family estate, Mertylewood, in northern Hampshire. Back then Henry had thunk the manner there was a Neverland of sorts, otherworldly and magical and totally untouched by the underhanded dealings and suffocating sophistication required by the life of a royal.
Mertylewood was wide and sweeping, with boundless rooms with air that always smelt like a cocktail of hickory and bonfires and the gossamer his mother had always favored. It was surrounded by green pastures and flower meadows for miles, divorced completely from any of the uneasiness back home, and Henry had always relished in the anonymity of it all. A respite from a life composed of expectations, doused in the ever appraising public eye, and strung together by the looming threat of the responsibility to the family name. It was the closest thing to home he’s ever known.
Mertylewood was the place where his mother taught him how to knit, their hands folded into one another’s and her long arms encircling his narrow frame. It was where Phillip stopped being such a god forsaken wanker all the god damn time and taught him how to aim while shooting with his bow and arrows. It’s where Beatrice looked lightest, most carefree, where she forgot about the judgmental glances by the gaggle of tube sock wearing, nasally sounding girls she claims are her friends. It was where she and Henry would stay up all night long listening to her favorite records, and painting their nails ridiculous colors and laughing for absolutely no reason at all. But most importantly, Mertylewood was the one place where none of the cameras or tabloids or reporters got even a slice of their family, including Henry’s father, his hero. His father who always told Henry that while Arthur might’ve been in the movie business, Henry was the brightest star of them all. His father who loved them all so thoroughly that Henry could never forget it, even when the shine to his smile or precise shade of blue to his eyes began to fade. His father who spent the afternoons in Mertylewood with Henry riding their horses and chasing the sunlight. Afternoons where Henry felt like time would never end.
Their favorite spot to stop and rest was a tiny alcove on the cusp of the property, right where the trees met the mouth of the river, and where the sunlight refracted against the tree tops and sod to make them look like they were ablaze. Henry had thought that it was something magical, something that could never be replicated. He knows now, a decade and a half removed, that he was wrong. He sees the same blaze in Alex Claremont Diaz’s chestnut eyes whenever he’s determined, excited for a challenge even if it’s something as stupid as a staring contest that he refuses for Henry to win. He thinks Alex is the personification of that wonderment Henry had once felt as a naive boy, and is blown away by him all over again.
“Oy! I saw that!” Alex suddenly crows, leaping up from his seat on their sofa in the Brownstone Henry had bought to start their lives together, topping it off with some ridiculous dance from some ridiculous app that in all seriousness Alex shouldn’t even have considering that it was created by a hostile government literally spying on it’s users. “You blinked Henryson! I win!”
“I did not do anything of the sort!” Henry reproves with no real heat, too busy trying not to gaze longingly at Alex’s swinging hips in those sweatpants.
God it’s so fucking unfair that his boyfriend is so hot, and even more unfair that Henry is so God damn weak for him.
“Ah c’mon sour patch,” Alex pretends to croon, beginning to pepper sloppy kisses down the column of Henry’s neck, unwittingly making it so Henry arches up towards him. “I know it’s not really part of you royals’ MO, but a deal is a deal.”
“Says the first son of a nation which rebelled over some taxes,” Henry scoffs, can’t help the snicker that bubbles out or the dazed way he feels over the gleam in Alex’s eyes.
“Spare me babe, you love it when I’m a rebel,” Alex goads, far too cheeky and far too endearing all at once. He’s a living contradiction that Henry would spend an eon trying to figure out, but for now, Henry momentarily loses all thought when Alex, the sneak, slips a sly hand into his shirt, and swipes his fingers against bare skin— a whisper, a promise for something more.
Henry has fallen for a bastard, God save the queen.
“I promise I’ll make it worth your trouble,” Alex pretends to croon, presses an open mouth kiss to Henry’s own. In turn, henry only responds by swinging his head back and willing himself not to get all heated like he were some fucking schoolboy with his first crush over being a fully fledged adult lounging around in his home with his fucking fiance of all people. His annoying ass, smug as all get out fiance, but his fiancé all the same.
“I took’r out to shit last time!” Henry grouses, greedily pulls Alex back closer when he starts to detach himself.
“I seem to remember that you offered last time,” Alex says with a pointed hiking to his dark brow, dips down to trade another snog like he couldn’t help it, as if he felt a fraction for what Henry felt for him. “And then you lost this time around, so.”
“I’m not use to all this manual labor while i’m in America,” Henry tries for broke, immediately regrets the quip when he sees the way it makes Alex’s entire countenance go smug and his button nose turn up in such a shrewd fashion that it inspires a whole slew of maddening emotions to chorus within him, ninety percent of which being that he’d really like to get Alex naked. Nine percent wanting to kiss him so hard that it falls off, and the remaining one percent being a mental note to text June about some face masks for him to get rid of the blackheads speckled around there.
“Shut it Alexander,” Henry opts to say, faux aggrieved as he slips out of his embrace and picks up Eleanor’s leash. “I’ll take her out if you just promise not to speak out loud any of the various innuendos you’ve surely devised in that cryptic place you call a brain.”
“Rude.” Alex sniffs.
“I reckon that’s a deal?” Henry presses.
“You run a hard bargain,” Alex nods, unflinching and far too serious. Truly, Henry must be completely off his rocker considering that he’s not only helplessly in love with this boy, but he’s been lost on him since before he could remember. Sometimes his chest feels like it’s going to burst with the love he feels for him, knows that he can be shit at showing it, quieter than Alex’s grand gestures and loud proclamations, but Alex knows. Alex knows how the love Henry holds for him runs deeper than all the oceans, and more expansive than this galaxy. He knows that Henry considers him his person, that what he feels for Alex is unparalleled by any other, insurmountable in its daunting expanse but what keepsHenry grounded nonetheless. And that’s the most important part out of all of this.
“I’ll make you some tea for when you guys get back,” Alex offers, grin a supernova that Henry had once been terrified to burn against.
“If I end up dead in a gutter and the local news reports that I was a decent man, you promise to get me one of the nicer candles for my wake, won’t you? The one’s with a wooden wick?” Henry asks, only partly kidding.
“Don’t be silly babe,” Alex laughs, mock magnanimous. “With those cheekbones? You’d never end up on local news, primetime would be fools not to plaster that pretty face all over!”
Henry frowns before pecking a kiss to the corner of his lips.
“I’m so glad I’ve got such a strong support system at home Alexander.”
“You know it baby.”
.-
When Henry had been six and Beatrice a fresh ten year’s old their parents had taken them to see a peculiar show on Westend which featured odd musical numbers, a Mary Poppins like nanny, and a set of twins whom were able to read one another’s minds. Henry was so very confused by the whole ordeal, but Beatrice was downright ebullient over it. She had spent that entire spring trying to train them to learn how to do the very same. Predictably, it was a spring full of scraped knees and random bruises and a twisted ankle. But sometimes, once in a blue moon, their connection is so clairvoyant that Henry privately thinks that somehow Beatrice’s persistence had somehow forged the bond out of sheer force of will.
Exhibit A, while Henry walks down the brisk streets of the city— or well, less walking and more being dragged by the ninety pound Labrador he and Alex had adopted nearly a year ago now— he feels his phone buzz, and when he opens it he finds a message from Beatrice. Just a short phrase coupled with a photograph that punches the air right out of him.
B: Sometimes I miss it
The attachment is a picture of the five of them, Henry and Beatrice with Phillip and their parents, on Mertylewood’s veranda. The photograph was taken on a day where the light shimmered, making it so Henry and their mother’s golden hair shone right through. Henry and his siblings were in matching trousers and tops, while his parents were caught mid laugh. It looked like what you’d see plastered all over the trashy magazine covers that were obsessed with their family to a morbid degree.
Henry remembers the precise moment the photograph was taken. Remembers how his father spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out the camera settings so that it would take an automatic shot. Remembers Phillip and Beatrice bickering about a butterfly she had caught and he had let go free. Henry remembers his mother carding a ginger hand through his tousled hair, the both of them always having been more reserved than the others and sharing the trait like a lifeline in the chaos of it all. Henry remembers how after they had finally gotten a good collection for their grandmother to sift through in the midst of deciding which would make it on that year’s Christmas collage for the paper, Arthur had tossed Henry on his shoulder, and slung an arm around Catherine’s hip and beckoned the two oldest along for them to go out for sundaes and eat them by the peer.
It’s one of the last truly happy memories Henry has before his father’s diagnosis, a snapshot of resplendence that would never last.
He isn’t sure how long he’s been staring down at his phone, doesn’t notice that time had passed until he finally feels the salty droplets cascading down and splashing against the screen. And shit, it’s been over an hour since he’s left. It was only meant to be a walk around the block for Eleanor to stretch out her legs before bed. Damn it, Alex is probably worried sick.
With a shuttering breath, Henry slowly shuts off his phone, looks up to find that he recognizes the apartment complex they’ve stumbled in front of, miraculously only five minutes away from his and Alex’s place.
“Thank Jesus,” Henry mutters before softly tugging Eleanor away from a hydrant and making the trek back home, stomach twisted up in knots over how Alex must feel.
His suspicions are confirmed when the pair of them make it back home and are greeted by the sight of a peeved off looking Alex, only clad in his pajama bottoms and a frown.
“You could’ve called,” he says, bends down to ruffle a hand into an excited Eleanor’s fur.
“I know.” Henry says, utterly apologetic.
“Dude I thought you really were gonna end up needing that fucking candle,” Alex tells him.
“I— I’m sorry.”
Henry’s not sure if it was the stutter he let out just then, or if he finally had gotten close enough for Alex to spot the wetness tracing down his cheeks, but almost immediately Alex’s expression goes stunned, then confused, followed by angry until it lands on something painfully contrite.
“Baby,” he says in a hush, and the open way that word comes out of him— pleading and hurt and wanting all at once— is enough for a new round of tears to flood Henry’s eyes and for his body to begin trembling while his heart lodges up into his rapidly shutting throat.
Henry thanks his every star that he’s got Alex. That he has someone he can trust so implicitly, so thoroughly that he isn’t afraid when his brain shuts off and he just falls into his fiancé’s embrace, plunging his face into the juncture of Alex’s head and shoulder and just sobs, let’s the sadness just swallow him whole and lets himself remember his father and remember his family and remember when everything had been so effortless.
Somehow, seamlessly, Alex carts him and their pup indoors, helps Henry shed himself of his jacket and shoes before pressing him down onto their bed, and wraps him up into his favorite blanket. Henry absently knows that when Alex leaves him to his solitude it’s because he has to make sure Eleanor is taken care of and has to shut down everything around the house, but that doesn’t stop Henry’s yearning for him, nor does it stop him for feeling so painstakingly alone.
When Alex comes back it’s with a glass of water, and a bowl of fruit, and a cup of hot coco because he knows that’s what Beatrice makes him whenever Henry is feeling especially sad. Henry wonders if Alex knows it’s an old tradition started by their father whenever their mother had gotten the same way. He’d like to tell him, but feels so very tired that he can’t fathom moving his lips to form around the words, resolves to explain it another day.
“You’re back,” Henry says, hates how desperate he sounds, wishes he weren’t so very inept.
“I love you,” Alex answers, his smile still so fucking bright and his hands so soft as he climbs into bed with him, props Henry’s head on his chest and kisses the line where his hair begins.
Henry starts to cry all over again, and Alex only repeats the affirmation, moves to telling him funny stories of when he and June were younger when that doesn’t work, and then starts to rant about his hellish constitutional law professor because he knows that Henry wants nothing more than a distraction.
Tomorrow Henry will show him the photograph, and Alex will understand because he knows Mertylewood, hell he’s spent a handful of weeks over there. Then Henry will tell him more stories in exchange for the ones Alex had given him tonight. Then Henry will explain the hot chocolate thing and Alex will listen and laugh and nod and kiss Henry in all the right parts. And Henry will just fall in love with him all over again. Tomorrow Alex will ask if they could have their wedding in Mertylewood because he wants Henry to be reminded of that happiness always, and also because he thinks it’ll act as some sort of tribute to Arthur. Henry won’t say yes right away but he’ll think it, and it will be better, because Alex always makes it better. But for now it doesn’t have to be better, and Henry is so thankful he understands that.
“I really love you Henry, you know that?” Alex asks hours later when the tears have dried away and they’re doing nothing but mapping out the patches of skin on one another’s bodies— reverent and unhurried and just because they need to be touching one another.
Henry wants to make a joke, thinks that on any other night he’d retort with a playful barb without a second thought, but he can’t make himself do so tonight, it all feels too raw, too real, too fragile.
“I love you Alexander,” he says instead, cuddles closer to him. “For forever and a day.”
“Forever and a day.” Alex confirms and they fall asleep like that, tangled in forever and one another and all their tomorrows.
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Buy Me A Coffee?💜
#Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor#Alex Claremont Diaz#firstprince#rwrb#red white and royal blue#rip me#SPILT INK
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Shattered Lives Ch 18 Pt 1
He woke with a start as Sildie’s alarm screeched on the nightstand. Watched as her arm reached out, a hand hitting it hard to shut it up, Lily’s faint cry as it had woken her too.
“It’s ok Lily.” He murmured pulling Sildie closer to him.
“Morning love.” He said sleepily and kissed the nape of her neck as he nuzzled her awake.
“Morning.” She sighed and stretched out like a cat ready to curl up in the sun for a nap. She turned in his arms to face him and smiled at Lily’s dad dad as she kissed him sweetly. She loved waking up to him.
“I’ll get Lily.” He said softly and kissed her deeply. “You hop in the shower and lawyer up.” He grinned and kissed her with all the love he couldn’t put into those three little words.
“Are you sure?” She asked softly, a finger tracing the line of his jaw.
“All part of the package deal.” He kissed her again. “It’s why I’m here after all, to help out. Get in the shower.” He kissed her tenderly and pulled the covers back dragging her out of bed with him.
“Bubble had to burst sometime.” She mumbled as he picked Lily up and held her close. Kissing the tiny child on the cheek she made her way to a hot shower. His hand caught her gently and tugged her to him.
“It did, but I’ll be here when you get home tonight.” He said toying with her hair and chuckled at Lily’s chattering at both of them. “At least I can get your Monday off to a good start.”
She kissed him longingly. “Thank you. For being you, for being here.”
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else love.” He kissed her brow and she squeezed his hand before dropping it and heading to the bathroom.
Gustaf was sitting with the boys all showered and partly dressed by the time Sildie was lawyered up and out of the bedroom. She didn’t have to rush today as he was taking care of Lily and it was amazing how that alone made the morning easier. They sat as a family for breakfast and life seemed more settled today she thought as she watched them, still hectic but settled. Maybe having him here all the time would keep that streak going. Gustaf wasn’t though she noticed, he was still on edge about something. Talk to me love she said silently, at some point please talk to me.
He helped get Lily and the boys ready and soon they were standing on her threshold. The morning was so normal he grinned, he wanted this as a permanent thing so badly. He had his own grief and baggage to take care of first though.
“I’ll see you guys tonight ok?” He said to the boys and the twins hugged him tightly.
“Bye love.” He murmured and kissed her sweetly, that glacier blue looking back. “I’ll probably be next door when you get back, send a messenger if I’m still over there ok?” He smiled.
“Will do.” She kissed him and lingered. She sighed, she had to get her ass in the elevator even though she wanted to stay with him. It was going to be a long day and she groaned as he closed her door. The weekend was just too damn short.
He didn’t bother taking a shower yet, he had work to do, physical and emotional. Collecting his clothes he dumped them by the door ready to take home, tidied up from breakfast, and set the dishwasher to run. Padding home in bare feet he threw a load of laundry on and stood facing the bag ready to work.
Sildies words from the weekend stuck with him. You are enough, you are everything to me.
“How can I be enough when I can’t tell you I love you?” He whispered and wrapped his hands. “When I can’t get past it, past her.” He pulled the gloves on with an anger and frustration that was ready to explode out of him. “How do I get past her?” He spat and slammed his fist into the bag. “I’m not what she tried to make me.” He voiced with authority and started to pound out his frustration.
Chest heaving, arms and legs lethargic he sank to his knees and rested his head against the bag a good hour and a half later. The answers weren’t coming, he was just angry and bitter pounding nothing but self loathing and regret into a bag full of sand. He ripped the gloves off and threw them into the corner of the room, disgusted with himself. “Can’t even answer my own fucking questions.” He roared, sweat pouring off him.
He stomped out of his home gym and took a shower, it didn’t ease his smoldering temper or internal frustration. He angrily made tea, the teapot and cup taking a beating and had it not been a favorite of his bought in Ireland it would have been smashed against the wall.
He sat in sweats and a t shirt with his tea and pulled his notebook out of his messenger bag. There was too much to process, too much crowding his mind to think clearly, and he needed to clear all the crap out and analyze it a piece at a time. His relationship with Sildie and the kids far too important for him not to fix himself, not to find those answers.
He started by listing everything Ana put him through. The manipulation, the way she twisted every truth from his lips into something that only benefited her own cause. Used lies to push everyone he loved away from him, alienated him until he was begging for her to give him something. The negativity, the emotional blackmail, the vindictiveness.
His pen paused and he took a shuddered breath as all those emotions started flooding into him, memories and anger he’d much rather bury and ignore, much rather forget. Let’s face it, he thought, that’s what I have been doing for the past year, ignoring it in the hopes it would just go away. He let the tears come as he continued to write, with no one there to see him crumble it was easier to let it go. No one to be judgemental, no one to see how weak she’d made him. He would get it out of his head, out of his soul and he would deal with it. Head on, no excuses, no holding back. Enough was enough.
The way she’d chipped away at his self worth eventually making him feel as if he was worthless, useless. Destroying him until he was a shadow of himself. Nothing but a husk of his former self staring back at him in the mirror. That line of thinking had to stop, it had to end.
He kept writing through it all, the tears, the anger, the pain, the regret, his own shitty choices. He let it well up, the soul destroying pain of self doubt, trust, or rather, lack there of, he didn’t trust himself. Pages and pages flowed from him until he dropped his pen and stretched his hand hours later.
He pushed the notebook across the table away from him as if it was poison and let out a careful breath. He sat there staring at it as he reached out a hand to pick up his cold tea and it shook. Snatching it back he swore and breathed. “Just breathe.” He whispered, it was more a shudder than anything. “Breathe.” He let himself settle enough to take a mouthful of cold tea to wash away the bitter taste of the memories he was plowing through before he looked at the notebook again.
He slapped a palm down on it and pulled it to him, bracing to release more of her venom, to deal with the toxic waste of what she left behind. Opening it he grabbed the pen and continued. He wasn’t fucking done with her shit, and had to keep going. He was going to lance this wound and dig it out of himself if it took all fucking day, all week.
“You are not what you made me Ana. I’m so much more than that.” He mumbled as he scratched those words deep into the paper.
“I’m done with your lies and how they still make me feel. I’m done with your doubt in me, you don’t matter anymore.” He choked on the last four words and scratched them down.
“You don’t matter anymore because I���m worth more than what you turned me into.” He let the tears come again freely and continued, words his only antidote, facing his fears head on the only way to say those three words he longed to say to Sildie. She deserved them.
He stared at his phone as it vibrated and ignored it for the moment. Getting this out was priority.
“You’re not going to make me feel worthless because I’m not. I’m not going to let you fucking win. You destroyed me once, you’re not taking me down a second time.” The rage seeped in now, the mind numbing all consuming rage at what he’d let her do to him, what he’d let happen to himself. “You’re not coming between what me and Sildie have.”
He channeled it into his words. Words that he’d say to Ana if she was sitting across from him. Pushing the grief and guilt outward toward the person it needed to be aimed at instead of inward at himself.
Sure, he fucked up, plenty of times he was human after all, but he didn’t deserve it to be thrown back at him time and time again until she got her own way. Every minor thing, every conversation, every word, every action. And he’d let it happen, he’d let her scream at him, throw shit, chip away at his resolve, his self worth, his self respect. In the end it was easier than fighting her and eventually turned into self loathing. He hated himself, he started to hate his job, hated what he was becoming but unable to get her claws out of his skin.
The way she’d bitched and complained about his job, him being away for long periods of time. It was his career, he was good at it and he loved it and she’d made it unbearable for him. The way she manipulated him, came between him and Alex nearly destroying their bond, hurting his sister Eija. He’d never forgive her for that. Her and her boyfriend at the time were happy until Ana had got him drunk, lied to him, and slept with him. Their relationship didn’t last after that and Eija was heartbroken, she didn’t speak to Gustaf for months. Alex had brushed it off with his usual bravado but under it he knew he’d hurt him too.
Tears streamed down his face and he let them fall, the memories painful and deep, shattering him all over again. He’d hurt his baby sister, indirectly, but hurt her all the same. The cheating hadn’t stopped there either. He knew there were more but couldn’t prove it. He tried to be understanding, tried to make it work, be better for her.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and kept at it, pulling memory after memory from his mind and tattooing it onto the page. The emotions he felt, the anger he felt, the necessary steps to make it right with the people he loved. He’d already apologized to his brother and sister but he felt he needed them to hear him out, work through it again.
He flipped to a new page, rested the pen in the spine and pushed it forward. He knew he wasn’t done but he needed food and a break. Remembering his phone vibrating earlier he picked it up to see a message from Sildie.
To me you are enough.
She knew, the woman just knew he was struggling, knew just what he needed. He sat there sobbing until he cursed himself and pulled it together. He was a fucking wreck.
“I’m so in love with you.” He murmured, the words didn’t come easy as he poured the boiling water over the tea leaves. “I’m working on being able to say that to you love.” He breathed out looking to the heavens. His statement went unanswered as he sat and ate. “Even if it tears me apart to get to it.”
He thought about Sildie, how different she was from Ana. He wasn’t comparing the two but he needed to take note of their differences for his own sanity not all women were like Ana and he needed to get that straight in his head. He pulled the notebook toward him and hesitated.
“No, no stopping, no going back.” He growled, shaking his head, and put pen to paper. “All of it.”
He found writing about Sildie made him feel lighter. His true feelings why he loved her. Her kindness of putting those kids before herself. Not just occasionally, every second of every day. The way she’d drop everything for him if he called her right now and said he needed her. How she listened to him, listening not judging, cared about what he was saying, how he was feeling. The little things like flowers to lift his spirits in a hotel room when he was freaking out. He smiled at that memory.
He flipped to the back of the notebook and found the daisy he’d pressed between the pages from her gift in his hotel room. He placed it gently on the table and went in search for another notebook, he found this current book to be suddenly too toxic for something so heartfelt. Opening the new leather bound book he slipped the flower into the back cover pocket, the boudoir shots in the front and smiled.
“Much better.” He muttered closing the new book and placing it in his messenger bag. A new book for happier thoughts. He wrote about how Sildie made him feel, how he wanted to say those words to her. His dreams for them. His pen jerked to a stop as his mind went to a future with her. Would he ask her to marry him, have children, move in with him? Did he want kids with her, a life with her? Was she his forever?
“Yes.” He breathed out and sat there stunned. “Shit.” He choked. “Fucking shit.” He’d never thought it would be possible after Ana to even contemplate marriage and family. She had turned him off the whole ideology of it.
His hand hesitated on the page before he wrote it down. Seeing those words staring back at him suddenly flooded him with emotion. For him to even think about a real future with Sildie he had to get Ana out of his life for good. There was no room for both and be damned if he was giving up Sildie without a fight even when that fight was with his own fucking mind.
And there it was, the crux of the problem. Ana. Ana and all her shit, all her baggage, all her memories had to go. He’d learned from the lessons she had been put in his path for, the hard unyielding lessons she taught. Holding onto them now was pointless and toxic. Sildie was right, Ana was winning all over again if he let this continue.
Maybe if he told Sildie everything? Not that he wanted to, he didn’t want to relive that shit and force it into her head. Having it in his was bad enough, writing it out was reliving it, but maybe it was his way of moving forward? He left that to simmer in his mind as he looked at the time, she’d be home soon and he needed to pull it together. He’d spent the entire day on this but felt marginally better, even though he had more work to do, and it was exhausting, physically exhausting and mentally draining. He was an emotional wreck.
He tidied up, both the mess on the table and in his mind, he had to put it away now and go next door for the kids, for Sildie. He wouldn’t drag this amount of baggage through her front door. He had to cull it first section it into manageable pieces.
“Until tomorrow.” He murmured at the notebook on the table and headed out the door.
She was tired, he could tell just by the slump of her shoulders as she walked through the door. Whether from the emotional upheaval last week, this past weekend or her work, probably all three he decided. The twins wrapped themselves around his thighs in hello as he took Lily from Sildie so she could get in the door with her bag.
“Hi.” He said softly and kissed her with tenderness.
“Hi back.” Her smile, although tired, was one of relief. He was here she thought, he’d come back and she was happy he was here. “I could get used to this.” She smiled. “Having you to come home to.”
“Me too.” His grin was wide as he carried Lily and removed her bag from her shoulder.
He snuggled Lily against him and talked and laughed with the kids while Sildie kicked off her shoes, shucked her jacket, and went to the kitchen to make a pot of tea. Knowing about their day was just as important as knowing about Sildie’s. She was tired but not overly stressed by last week which was a welcome relief, her grief had settled slightly for the moment. He knew it would surface again soon for her birthday and Christmas.
“Thank you for your text.” He murmured and slipped a hand around her hip pulling her close to him as she stood waiting for the kettle to boil.
She turned to face him kissing those lips she’d craved all day. “You’re not alone love.” She smiled at him and kissed him again. She’d remind him every day what he meant to her to get him through whatever demon he was facing. Let me in she silently pleaded.
“I know.” But he was, he thought. He was so alone facing it because he never wanted it to touch her, inflict all that toxic shit on her, he just wouldn’t allow it. “Your day go ok?” He asked wanting to change the topic.
“It was fine, I have a lighter caseload at the moment but that’s about to change. Big case coming up. High profile company, lots of long nights ahead.”
“Good thing I’m staying over then.” He smiled.
“Yeah, I could use your help with the kids on this when it hits in a few weeks.” He stroked a finger down his jaw.
“Late nights?”
“There’ll be a few I’m sure and some weekends at the office.” She didn’t want to lay it all on him but she’d need to lean on him for this. “I know it’ll be a lot but I...”
He kissed her softly and leaned his forehead against hers. “Together remember.” Her slight smile the brightest thing in his world. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work.” He kissed her and heard the ewww from Brendan as he passed which made him grin.
“You know B the more you do that the more I’m gonna do this.” He quipped grinning, cupping a hand behind her neck he kissed her so her toes curled. His throaty chuckle against her lips only made Sildie’s pussy tingle, damn the man knew how to kiss a girl.
“Gross.” Brendan grinned.
“Yeah well, wait until your hormones kick in kid, you’re going to feel the same way about a special girl and want to kiss her just like that.” Gustaf was having a ball ribbing the kid in good fun. “So you may want to pay attention instead of gagging.”
Sildie laughed at them while she poured the water over the tea leaves. It was a guy thing and she was so happy that Brendan had a guy he could talk to and joke with even though the spike of guilt still hit her sharply. She watched Gustaf as the two continued their banter.
He was trying to hide the pain, she could see the edges of it in the way his body slumped like it was carrying a tremendous weight. Talk to me love, she pleaded silently, let me in, let me help. It hurt that he’d already started shielding her from it.
She cupped his face in her hand and ran a thumb along the crows feet at his eye. She loved it when he smiled like that, pure joy. He turned to look at her and those ocean eyes, she drowned in them, such love in him she thought, such kindness. She kissed him tenderly and felt his grip tighten.
“You’re so good for him.” She said quietly and kissed him again as she could see the blush at the fact he’d let it show. They talked and sipped tea while Sildie got dinner started. Back to routine, normality, although she wanted to stay in the bubble with him it just wasn’t practical. They ate as a family unit, joking, laughing, talking about what happened in their day, what they liked and disliked, plans for the weekend. If every night was going to be like this she hoped he’d stay but knew there would be bad days mixed in with the good at some stage. It couldn’t be roses all the time.
With Lily and the boys to bed she settled down to read. Her case load was light but she was brushing up on certain laws for the case that would soon land in her lap. She’d be living, breathing, sleeping it. It excited her but at the same time she doubted herself. That doubt of whether she could juggle it all, work, kids, boyfriend, life, grief, Ana. She could handle the kids and work, and Gustaf, but Ana, and life was certain to test her.
He watched her from the kitchen and smiled, he was happy with her, the kids. Things seemed lighter when he was with her, less stress, less anxiety. All the more reason to sort out your shit, he cursed silently, you can’t be in her life completely dragging your Ana baggage into it with you. There isn’t enough room and it’s not fair on them, they have enough grief and guilt of their own to live with.
He poured her a tea and sat it beside her, pen furiously taking notes. He sat and brushed a finger along the back of her hand. The pen stuttered before she continued and then stop once she reached the end of her thought. He knew her well enough now to wait. Her mind was an enigma to him.
She took off her reading glasses and scrubbed a hand over her face.
“Come up for air love.” He said and kissed her temple. “Sip your tea.”
“Thanks. Sorry, went down a rabbit hole there.” She chuckled as she leaned back to rest against the back of the chair pulling her glasses off.
“What are you working on?” His fingers grazed hers as she took hold of the teacup.
“Brushing up on certain laws. I know them I just need to refresh them in my head.” She leaned into him and kissed him tenderly. “Back to the grind. I’m sorry.”
“What for?” His brow crinkled at her apology.
“I get caught up with it all sometimes. I don’t mean to ignore you.” She hooked her finger around his. “I zone out into lawyer land.” That had become his favorite term for her when her mind was super focused.
“You’re not. I’m here with you. We’ll find a rhythm love, it’ll just take a bit.” He kissed her tenderly.
“Well just know when I zone out like that it’s not because I’m ignoring you.” She kissed him again sweetly.
“Noted.” He said and nodded. He hesitated and she knew there was more he wanted to say. “I’m not shutting you out.” He said softly and her look had him continue. “Yes it’s about Ana. It’s always about Ana and I’m working on it. Working on not letting her get between us.” He managed to get that out without bursting into flames and it made him feel a little better. “I just need time to work through it, process it. I started doing that today.”
Her kiss was pure love he thought. That deep love that she gave so freely. “She haunts you.” She murmured and he dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed the emotion away. “Will you talk to me? Before it gets too much and pulls you under? I know you’re working through it, processing, but would you talk to me about it all? What eats away at you?”
“I will but I can’t right now.” He choked. “It’s all too raw.” His voice was strangled.
“You’ve buried it for so long love and now it’s wanting to flood out of you stronger than before.” Her words hit him hard and he couldn’t stop the silent tears. “You’re not alone this time love. I’m here and I’ll fight her alongside you if you’ll let me.” She wiped the tears from his cheek with her thumb and kissed his temple lingering, willing her love to heal him. “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
“I’m stronger than what she made me.” He whispered and her heart broke. She closed her eyes and breathed. She wanted to ask so many questions from that statement alone but held off. It wasn’t the right time and there was only so far she could push.
“Much stronger love.” She looked at him and cupped his face in her hands. “Work through it but don’t shut me out ok? Tell me when it’s getting too much, talk to me. I’m here for you, just as you’re here for me.”
He kissed her tenderly. “I’ll try to remember.” He kissed her again sweetly. “I’m sorry, I never wanted any of this to touch you Sildie.”
“Together remember. You’re everything to me Gustaf. Remember that when thoughts of her try to pull you under.” She kissed him with that deep love that always made him feel warm and wanted.
“When is your case done? This big one coming up?” He asked and swiped the tears away annoyed that they fell in the first place. He felt stupid falling apart like this all over again like he’d just kicked Ana out this morning. Well in a way he had, mentally he was reliving it all over again.
“It starts in a few weeks in court for pretrial but it could go on for years it just depends. Why?” She asked softly.
“I’d like to take you away for a long weekend. Just you and me, away and somewhere different.” He said and kissed her.
“Romancing me?” She smiled.
“Trying.” His huffed chuckle made her smile. “I’d like to.”
“Maybe the first or second week of December or something. Let all this calm down with us and the kids and routine?” Normally she’d fight him on it as it would be costly but considering what he was trying to process in his mind, she’d let it go. He probably needed it as much as she did from the last week of pouring her own heart out. They were both a little raw still.
“Sounds good. I’ll start planning. You ok with Alice looking after the kids for that long?” It was also something he could plan, take his mind off Ana after dealing with it all day.
“That’s fine and I’ll pay half.” She said.
“Nope. I asked, I pay. Not only that you just paid for this last weekend so it’s my turn.” He grinned, she wasn’t lawyering him on this one. “That was the deal.” He said holding up his hand as if to say save your breath I don’t want to hear it. All she could do was glare at him, he was right damn it she thought.
His fingers toyed with her hair until it found her clip and he growled. Her chuckle was one of amusement.
“You really don’t like that clip do you?” She smirked.
“No. I don’t.” He whispered and he gently removed it so her hair tumbled down. “I like the feel of it. Sinking my fingers into it before I kiss you.” He whispered and kissed her tenderly doing exactly that. “How much more do you have to do tonight?” He asked and ghosted his lips over hers.
“I can be done, it’s late anyway, and I need sleep.” She kissed him softly. “You wore me out.” She chuckled and he smiled against her lips.
“You had a very busy weekend.” He murmured and slipped a finger down her cleavage to undo a few buttons.
“I love it when you touch me.” She whispered, that soft sigh as his touch sent her body into goo mode.
“Then tidy up and come to bed so I can touch you some more.” He murmured, that low tone making her suddenly warm with pleasure.
“I need to sleep Gustaf.” She chuckled as those fingers deftly aroused her as he undid the buttons of her blouse. “I mean I’d like to fool around but I’m beat and I have the rest of the week to get through.”
“I’ll see that you get it.” He promised. “Go take a shower, relax, get your makeup off and sleep.” He kissed her softly. “I’ll be there in a bit.” He stood and took their cups and the teapot to the kitchen.
She tidied ready for breakfast and he noted again that she needed an office, it suddenly dawned on him and he grinned. He had a spare office, she needed one, problem solved and Christmas or her birthday would be perfect timing. Something else for him to dive into in the coming weeks.
He found her a little while later curled up soft and naked in bed. That halo of copper in a molten pool across the pillow. She was so beautiful, inside and out. That thought stopped him cold. Sildie had said the same thing this past weekend about him, though he felt anything but beautiful. His heart fluttered and ached, she was trying to lead him out of the darkness.
He stripped and crawled in beside her pressing himself against her spine, fingers trailing over her hip to soothe more than arouse. The words still wouldn’t come. Give it time he said to himself, you’ve got to take the trash out first.
She turned to him half asleep and pressed herself against him, warm and soft. She kissed him sweetly as his arm cradled her to him, hand flexing out between her shoulder blades.
“Sleep love.” He murmured as her head relaxed and she breathed him in.
He lay there with her in his arms thinking. Thinking of what it would be like to be married to her, have kids with her, to lose her. He would if he didn’t get his shit in order. He kissed her brow and lingered as he held her tighter, the scent of her calming his mind. He couldn’t lose her, he couldn’t let Ana ruin this.
The following few weeks went much the same. Routine and life kicked in, Sildie was slammed at work, kids soccer and hockey games, reading scripts, interviews, guest appearances, and furiously trying to dig out every last toxic thought and memory of Ana. Sildie was neck deep in her case and it was beginning to wear on her. He could see the stress taking its toll, her tiredness before she finally gave up reading for the night, her slightly on edge tone with him and the kids, his own stress wearing him thin too.
Since their weekend together things had started to spiral downward. It was a slow descent but he knew it was his fault. He was spread too thin focusing his entire emotional efforts on getting Ana out of their lives, but what else could he do? Sildie had tried to get him to open up and he’d wanted to, but he’d also wanted to protect her from it. She had enough on her plate without him adding to it.
He was due to fly out tomorrow and he found the thought of being away from Sildie and the kids daunting, even for the overnight stay. “It’s just the anxiety and self doubt creeping back in and it won’t win this time.” He said sternly as he pounded a fist into the bag. “It’s just overnight and she’s only a phone call away. Just like last time. I am better than that.”
He worked the bag hard and took a shower once his muscles were screaming at him. He read through scripts and poured his heart out onto the pages of his notebook. This had become his routine while Sildie was at work. His hand stopped when Sildie’s text tone chimed quietly. He tapped the pen on the book and hesitated looking at it as he was neck deep in the toxic waste of his mind. When it chimed again he caved and looked.
You are stronger than your demons love.
He choked a sob, how did she know what he needed when they hadn’t even spoken of it he wondered? Because she loves you the little voice in his head muttered. He let the tears come, they needed out of him too. A cleansing of a different sort. Purge and heal had become his mantra over the past weeks, and in all honesty he should have done this long ago.
She was beat to hell by the time she got home. This was much easier when she didn’t have kids and a boyfriend that was spiraling she thought bitterly and then felt the guilt rise at such a thought. She was just tired and cranky and that wasn’t fair.
She watched as he played with Lily and smiled, the highlight of her day. Those crinkles around his eyes showing the love and joy he had for the toddler even though it was another mans child. There was still that soul destroying pain in his eyes though and he wouldn’t talk to her about it.
She understood he needed space and time to sort through it but he’d shut her out. Every time she brought it up or hinted at the subject he shut it down. Let me in she pleaded silently, please love let me in. Each day that passed he seemed a little less bright and drifted further away from her, soon he’d be out of reach and consumed by it all. How did she stop that she wondered? How did she stop the spiral without hurting him further, without throwing it in his face or making that wound deeper?
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Strangers in the Bar II
Part I | Part III
Alex Turner x OC (I guess??)
Description: Two lonely people observe each other in a bar. It leads to something nice.
Word count: 2,982
Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking.
A/N: Nobody wants the second part but I am posting it anyway. Maybe, you'll enjoy. If you do, let me know!
The time flew by like a super-modern spaceship through the deep void of silent space and my stay in LA was coming to an end about just as fast. I still didn't know if I liked the city or not. It was totally different from what I'd seen before, but the aftertaste wasn't that pleasurable as I thought it would be. Maybe I was a prisoner of my own superstitions and prejudices, but I will never know. Moreover, Californian weather is just not my cup of tea, I would prefer something a lot more northern than constant heat and melting asphalt. But I must admit the city has its own unique vibe you cannot casually pass by, it wipes you away with its simultaneous boldness and sneakiness.
It was a challenge for me not to think about the dancing dude I met the first night. Let's be clear, I hadn't fallen in love, but there was definitely a spark between us, even if it was a result of drinking too much. Some nights I even wanted to google him, but my drunk ass never asked for his name. His face looked familiar, like I've seen him before, but I couldn't remember for shit when and where. So, I gave googling up and continued with doing my stuff, which was a lot more important than some random guy I popped into at some bar. I thought it was a drunk adventure and this gave some assurance it will not happen again and I can move on. But I'd be lying if I said what happened didn't bother me in a way I didn't want it to.
I was always very sensitive to vibes and energy people are emitting. That feature brought a lot of pain, but also a lot of understanding, so I tried to develop it as much as I could. And what I saw and sensed that night made me think about it way too much. I saw a lonely person trying to enjoy a simple moment of happiness, but I also saw a sharp mind and a visible ache in his eyes. I totally understand it may sound like an absolute bullshit, but I got the impression we were vibing at the same frequency in some way and it would be stupid of me not to admit I would do it again without thinking. And this fact was bothering me a lot. It was something I couldn't accept, like, how can it possibly be real — to meet a guy and have such a connection with him without even speaking to one another? Bear with me, I told my friends a lot, while sharing this story with them. But could I bear with myself? The answer is not really.
My time in LA is coming to an end, I thought, it would be nice to say goodbye where I started. To finish the adventure properly and leave for good.
It wasn't much later when I saw some familiar spots I observed while smoking near the bar on my first day in LA. Those palm trees were actually fascinating in a pastel background of the twilight sky, warm and so close you may have had a chance to touch it. There was no clouds whatsoever, so I took a pic of tree silhouettes to remember this beautiful view when I'm back home. What if Los Angeles becomes my home? I thought to myself strolling down the road, searching for a sign indicating a spirit-scented place. Soon enough I saw it on the other side of the street and rushed there. It wasn't as crowded as I remember it to be, but I guess that's going to change in an hour or so. I came too early, but I desired to get wasted and nothing was standing in my way so I just followed the waitress into the bar and crawled on the stool with all the grace I managed to find in my body. The bartender asked me what I'd like to have and I ordered "Orgasm" without thinking. Dude tried to make a joke out of it but unfortunately I wasn't impressed since I heard it way too much throughout my whole cocktail-drinking life. It was only funny the first couple of times. Anyway, I came to drink and I got what I wanted in 4 minutes. I spent the time glaring around, but there was nothing unusual for my eye to catch, just a bar, millions of them around the world. The music was on point, though. I thought it was a jukebox, the one you pay to put a song on, but I was wrong. Turned out, it was one of the bartenders who was in charge of music for the night and they took turns to be a DJ. At least, that's what I heard from the bartender, when I made a remark on the music. I was quite impressed, since it's mostly jukeboxes I saw in this kind of places. I found it pretty authentic and also very encouraging for the personnel to try their chances with music. What is more LA than that?
My cocktail was tasty enough for me to distract myself with it for a while. My head was almost empty and I felt I achieved what I was striving for, so I needed to think what to do next. I was alone and a little bored. Maybe I can try to talk to someone? Just for the sake of having a conversation… - I thought - People are probably thinking I am a weirdo, I came alone and I drink alone. Well, this is who I am now and bitches shall accept that. Anyway, the drink was so delicious I finished it without realizing it. I ordered another one and decided it would be nice to smoke.
When I got out I saw the last couple of minutes of the hot Californian twilight and was left to enjoy the early night. Cicadas were singing their oddly rhythmic song and I was inhaling smoke like it was my last cigarette on earth. It was nice to feel the relaxation spread from my chest to my hands and then knees. It felt nice having nothing to worry about for a night and just do whatever your heart tells you to, even if it's totally stupid. The smoke twirled in the air above my head in irregular spirals. I watched it slowly dissolve in thick warm air, traffic noise making the whole experience a little bit ambient. I took out another cigarette and lit it from the previous one, as I had lost my lighter a few days ago and hadn't bought another one yet. I know, I know. My mind was in a weird state, I felt very calm and very nervous at the same time and I couldn't say what exactly caused it. I should probably stop drinking and smoking so much. But not today.
My cigarette was quickly coming to an end as I watched people gathering near the bar entrance for a small chat or a smoke. I went back inside to continue my contemplation with a cocktail in my hand, but I was also determined to get to know someone. Maybe, that cute bartender who served the "dancing juice" will be back? I could talk to him, at least I did last time and it wouldn't be that awkward. But I haven't seen him today yet and I wasn't sure I will, therefore I decided to concentrate on people, cruising back and forth between table area and the bar itself. Everyone seemed very comfortable and friendly, but not a one familiar face in the whole room. Suddenly, I heard a phrase that made me jump on my stool and rush to the dance floor, occupied by two young men in weird shorts.
Get on your dancing shoes!
I cannot explain why the indie tunes from 2000s made me so eager to dance, but they did and I was fine with it. I wiggled my ass to the beat, shook my head and pretended to sing the song to the boys in weird shorts. They somehow agreed to take part in my performance and the three of us had a very nice time dancing and jumping around for the next couple of songs. Soon I was very hot and went back to my place at the bar to take a sip of my drink and order a refill and some water. I went to the bathroom right after I saw the bartender nod at me, letting me know he heard what I told him, as the music was getting louder.
I was surprised to see there was no queue to the bathroom, so I used my chance not to hurry and take my time to fix my makeup and hair. I was even more surprised to see the bar crowded when I finished and I was absolutely flabbergasted to find my place at the bar occupied by some dick! Can you tell I went from 0 to 100 in a couple of seconds? My mood wasn't so great before but now it was pretty much spoiled. I saw the guy talk to the bartender and put my drink aside and my ass went off. Somehow in such situations I have a resting bitch face, which may serve an impression of me being unbothered, but it's not exactly how I felt then. I was furious because there was no other place to sit at the bar and it was just rude of the guy to sit on my stool, cause there was my drink, signifying it was occupied.
I came up to the dude and touched his shoulder to catch his attention. He turned around with half a smirk quickly changing into a look of surprise. I could feel my eyes grow in size when I saw who it was. "Is it fucking real?" - I asked myself, trying to be less shook. What an amazing coincidence, my stool at the bar was occupied by the dancing dude! - Who would have thought, am I right? — he said, fully turning to face me.
— Not me, for sure. Get off my stool. — I shoo'd him from the stool but he didn't move a muscle.
— Nope. You weren't sitting here when I came in, so it's mine now. — I raised my eyebrow in disbelief.
— Don't be a little dick, you've seen my glass standing right here.
— I will buy you another one if you get off my dick. And once we are talking about that…. — he chuckled a bit. — You can sit in my lap if you fancy. My eyes widened, I was astonished by his bold move.
— Are you flirting with me?
— Who knows. So, mardy bum? Are you climbing in my lap or …? — he asked, looking attentively at my face with a wide smirk, pleased with himself.
I threw my hands in the air silently and turned my back on him. I didn't fancy sitting in a random dude's lap, even if the dude was kinda hot and not actually random. Oh God, FUCK! He looked a bit different this time; his beard was trimmed and his hair was gelled back, black shirt and pants so tight I could probably see the outline of his underwear if he wore any. What a dweeb. I guess I'd recognized him instantly if I saw those pants.
Why is this so embarrassing? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted to sass this bitch out, but I couldn't come up with anything merely appropriate for the situation, so I decided to ignore his questions and turned to take my glass. At this exact moment a very familiar and a really slow song came on.
I somehow lost my breath and fell into a spiral of memories I had associated with the song playing for a second. I was watching people dividing into pairs on the dance floor and it broke my heart a little. I remembered my ex-sweetheart holding me tight to him while this exact song played quietly in our apartment, right after the final fight we had. I remembered the emptiness I felt then and my eyes became too watery. I am not going to cry at the bar today, I told myself. No one was going to ask me to dance today anyway, I thought, and it stroke me pretty hard. I turned to go out of the bar to have a cigarette when the dancing dude touched my hand. I looked at him, struck by the sensation. He was offering his hand to me.
"Shall we dance a little?"
I had no time to think properly and the whole situation felt a bit like deja vu. He was waiting for me to take his hand, eyes on me, wandering from hair to eyes, to boobs and back. I accepted his almost silent invitation and followed him to the middle of the dance floor.
When I'm around slow dancing in the dark
Don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms
We were surrounded by different couples and that's one of the reasons I loved LA. It was just beautiful to see people simply dancing together. No one really cared what people might have thought of them, this is how it should be. He held my hands in his and as we're almost the same height I almost touched his long nose with mine. We remained silent while we were swirling in a very little space we had among all the people. His palms were soft and warm and I enjoyed his touch, even though I didn't want to admit it.
Soon enough we got even closer and danced way slower. My lips were almost on his jaw as we were almost hugging each other to a sad song. Him being so close yet so far made me puzzled in some way. I didn't want this to happen and yet here I am, staring at dude's earlobes and gelled strands of wavy hair on the neck. Pretty view, should I say. He smelled exactly the same as I remembered and I found the smell heavenly complex. This sparked an idea to spend as much time in his arms as possible, but I shooed the thought away. It would be inappropriate.
I turned my head a bit to see his face clearly. His eyes were closed, but I could sense something going on in his head. He moved easily and graciously, even with me by his side and I was pleasantly surprised to realize he led me all the time we were dancing. I smiled a little to myself. It felt good to be in his arms and I decided it won't hurt to put my head on his shoulder, so I did. I took a deep breath, inhaling his cologne and smiled again. He tilted his head a bit, so it would touch mine. I thought about how we looked like on the dance floor seen by others. We probably look like two sad people dancing to a slow song, I sassed myself and shook my head a bit. Dude asked me if I was okay and I responded "sure". That was it, the whole conversation during the dance.
Can't you see?
I don't wanna slow dance
In the dark
As the song was reaching its climax, we almost stopped moving at all. My hand that was placed on his shoulder slid down to his waist. He did the same with his hand, still holding mine. I liked him not pushing anything on me and appreciated the effort to be nice. It felt right to be this close to him somehow. I saw him lip-synching a little to the song and felt his warm breath on my cheek. I kept smiling as I watched his private performance. With the final phrase we stopped completely and just stood in each other's embrace for a couple of seconds longer than necessary. I didn't want to let him go. He seemed to feel the same. I blushed a bit, because it was getting awkward. Eventually, we split and I followed him to the bar.
He sat on a stool next to mine which appeared to be empty and gestured a bartender to come over. I sipped my cocktail, which I completely forgot about, to be honest. I was watching the dance floor and the dude turned to me and asked "Whatcha gonna drink, mardy bum?"
I did not expected that and took some time to proceed with the question. I looked at him, confused. "Nothing for now. Excuse me" i said and rushed to the bathroom. I didn't want to use it, however, I felt an urgent need to get away from his deep dark eyes inspecting my face. I turned on cold water and splashed some on my neck and chest to calm myself down. I guess I shouldn't have left like this, I thought, maybe I need to go back and try to have a normal conversation? I wanted to talk to someone less than half an hour ago. Oh no, there would be no conversation, darling, you will just stare at his face for an uncomfortably long time until he finds you creepy and leaves, I told myself. Well, this sucks but I have to go back anyway. I'd fancy a smoke, after all it was an experience and I definitely needed some nicotine in my system. I went out of the bathroom to finish my cocktail at the bar and found the dude's stool empty. It made me a bit sad, but I didn't say goodbye either, so it's only fair. I knocked my drink down and headed to the exit.
#alex turner#alex turner fanfic#alex turner fanfiction#arctic monkeys#the last shadow puppets#miles kane#do i wanna know#los angeles#la#oc#original character#short story#strangers in the bar
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I've Got You - A Gangsta. fic
This is a gift to @paininanime! It will have two parts. The next one will be ready within a few days! Also posted on ao3.
--
The vibration rumbling through the ground was what distracted Nic from Woricks franticly waving arms and visual warnings of danger. For a swift second, the deaf twilight shifted his attention from the trembling and dancing debris on the ground, to peer puzzled over his shoulder as a thick, flaming smokescreen hit him with the force of a rockslide and an invisible force threw him several feet into the air before he hit the ground, shoulder first.
There was only a brief moment to try to comprehend what had just happened. Soon, the dust-colored hurricane of building materials enveloped him and invaded his lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe while the gravel nicked furiously at his skin like minuscule, piercing blades. The dirty air seemed to hail down on him in larger and larger pieces.
Mind alert but body paralyzed beneath rocks and iron and wooden beams showering from above, Nic struggled to comprehend what just happened.
A moment ago, they were pursuing a group, selling counterfeit Cerebrer to struggling twilights, or their owners. They'd tracked the operation to an old warehouse, and had quickly overpowered and dealt with most of the culprits. They chased after the few that were left and had just stepped outside, pausing for a few seconds to get situated in the new surroundings, when the view turned foggy and Nic was flung across the lot.
The first large piece of concrete hit Nic over the head, followed by what felt like a million more, burying him under the massive weight of the collapsed building while heat burned through his clothes and tore at the exposed flesh.
How long the sky was crying rocks and flames was impossible to distinguish. It could have been seconds or minutes. The world revolved in slow-motion all the same, dragging each moment beyond belief, exaggerating each tear to his skin, each pounding his body took and making him yearn for when it would eventually knock him out or kill him.
Desperate and in immense pain, Nic tried to let out a noise. He had no idea if it carried through, or if he had been successful in making any sound at all. It was the only thing he could do, with his arms pinned in place and legs covered by a huge piece of cement. No matter if he had been able to cry out or not, it left him in a painful coughing fit, shattered ribs shifting agonizingly, robbing him of air he was already severely lacking.
The pitch blackness that surrounded him made him oblivious to the fact he already was losing consciousness.
..
Despite himself, Worick couldn't help calling out for his partner and friend. As much as he knew Nic would never be able to hear him, it was already easy to forget in everyday life when the twilight stood and watched incomprehensively as Worick gnarled at him for not answering the phone. Either way, if the twilight had been hearing or not, Worick could hardly hear himself through the ear-shattering blast and the following ringing in his ears.
The force of the falling building and explosion knocked him off his feet, but the moment he had gathered himself and the eruption had died out, Worick was back up.
He ran along the rubbles, shouting his friend's name frantically, hoping to spot a black splotch of hair, or a twitching hand trying to claw its way out of the crumbled and burning remains. Except for dust settling on the ground, there was no sign of movement anywhere.
How could he have let Nic get caught by the explosion like that? Why didn’t he just grab him by the arm, pulling him to safety? Instead of helping him, he had distracted him with his panicked waving. He had yelled at him to run when the idiot hadn’t even been looking at him!
People in the area had started to gather, daring to come closer now that the situation seemed to have settled down. Some people joined him in the search, and he could hear someone say that they would call the fire department.
Worick on the other hand, stepped away to call Dr. Theo and Chad. He knew that the moment someone realized that Nic was a tag, there was a good chance the volunteers would dissipate. Even the fire department or the ambulance didn't have any obligations to help an insignificant twilight. As much as they had to clean up and secure the place, if Nic was injured, he'd be chucked off to the side somewhere. They might even blame the entire explosion on him.
Either way, they would need Chad.
After explaining quickly what had happened to the elderly inspector and leaving a vague message with Nina, trying to reassure her that everything was fine and not to worry, but to tell Dr. Theo to hurry his visually impaired ass over there faster then the police could shut down his dubious practice on a surprised raid, he ended the call and stared numbly on the screen.
He had an unread message from Alex, notifying him that she had bought his cigarettes as he asked and that they had received another mission from grandma Joel about roughing up a few thugs responsible for another robbery at her stand earlier in the day. Worick realized that he needed to call her too and tell her what was going on. Something in his stomach coiled by the thought. She didn't handle worrying by herself too well.
As he turned to dial the number to their office, he heard a male voice shout, sounding almost disappointed, “Never mind. It's just a twilight.”
..
Nic forced himself back to consciousness like he had so many times before, a notion he had taught his body during his childhood as a mercenary. There was no time for being unaware of his surroundings and the moment he felt a hint of lucidity within the dark realms of unconsciousness, he would grasp onto it with a death grip and squirm his way through the grimy quicksand of fatigue and pain and back to the surface.
Yet, also aligned with how it would work in his childhood, he regretted it the moment he opened his eyes. The black orbs stung from dust and debris, while pain shot through his body in agonizing spasms. A swift flashback of waking up after being mortally wounded in combat before his troop left him behind flickered through his mind. His left arm was impaled by a sharp rock, lodged into a position above his face trying to protect his eyes from the tip of the sharp object that had buried into the side of his elbow, deep enough to hit bone.
He realized that this was bad. With each breath he took, harsh coughing fits persued. The air around him felt thin and heavy at the same time, and his exhausted lungs struggled with each intake. The space around him was too dark to make out if he was laying on his stomach.
Tryingly, he reached his right arm out as much as he was able too. It wasn't much; it reached a patch of dirt that he tried to scratch to see if the debris would stay grounded or drizzle onto his face. The particles of sand fell between his scarred knuckles, and he took it as a sign that he was laying on his back and started to wiggle his feet to get loose from the tight embrace of the earth beneath him. Another sharp pain through his hip and legs made him stop abruptly, but without sight or hearing, digging was his only escape from the masses of dirt and rocks, so he gritted his teeth together and tried his best to bare with it.
With only a right arm at his aid, he kept scratching, loosening pieces of dirt that fell to cover his face while he cleared a narrow tunnel through the layers of grime until it reached something solid. Gnarling, he realized that he wouldn’t be able to break through it and retracted his arm, starting anew in a different spot.
This time, he succeeded in getting past the object that had stopped him before- he felt the blunt corner of the beam scratch against his palm as he cut through the earth beside it. The small relief was short-lived however, as he soon after had the entirety of his right arm extended without breaking through the surface. There was no use.
Somehow, the realization of having to wait until rescue made his adrenaline ebb off. The weight of whatever crushing his legs started to grow together with the uncomfortable shifting of broken ribs with each involuntary twitch, soon threatening to become unbearable. The sharp edge of the object impaling his arm grid and splintered at the bone. Nic had to bite his lip to not cry out in pain, even if he knew that no one would hear him. The constant reminder that his voice made people uncomfortable was still etched into his mind. Especially as uncontrolled as it was under great discomfort like this.
From time to time, they would use it as an intimidation technique. That didn’t bother him. Worick had explained that his natural speaking voice was deep and scratchy. Even if he had been hearing, it would be like that. It was the sounds that he didn’t have control over that people seemed bothered by.
Painful noises. Even Worick was unable to keep face by those, so Nic tried not to make them.
Something above him stirred, making the weight on his chest change with it. His chest tightened, and his breath came out in short, rapid gasps. It felt like the airflow through his lungs wasn’t enough, and an instant of panic struck him. He couldn’t breathe.
Whatever had made the weight above him shift, kept doing it and it was getting harder to draw a breath. Something had to happen soon if he wanted to avoid being strangled to death.
With the little strength left in his chest, Nic shakily, as careful as he could, filled his lungs and wheezed out as much sound as he could produce. Dizziness enveloped him instantly, but he stubbornly repeated the action. Coughs tore through his chest, a heated liquid spilled from his lips as he kept going.
Soon, the darkness that surrounded him cleared and a small hole appeared from above, dimly illuminating the pitch darkness. With a shaking arm, Nic reached towards it, recognizing how the edges of his vision were closing in.
He was just able to worm his hand through the opening. A moment after, a calloused hand met it, holding it tightly, reassuringly. If Nic had had the energy to clutch onto it himself, he would have.
“Wo… Wo-ick,” he muttered weakly, barley hanging onto consciousness as the gap widened and the hand meeting his became visible and the light intensified. Dazed, he peered incomprehensively at his own arm, the clear, bright burns coating it, the bright blood seeping from the wounds. Then, at the limb grabbing onto his, not recognizing it.
But that didn’t make any sense. Where did Worick go?
The remaining dirt still covering the ground above him quickly crumbled away, exposing him to the sunlight and fresh air which he still struggled to take in. A man he didn’t know hovered above him, mouthing something he couldn’t read.
A wave of relief washed over Nic, and he didn’t care if he couldn’t recognize this person or understand what he was saying. The claustrophobic darkness was gone and he knew that at least he wouldn’t die from being buried alive. Quickly, several more people appeared above him, arms reaching out, brushing him off and tugging at him.
Where was Worick?
Was Worick buried beneath the ground too? A spark of worry grew in Nic, and he had no idea if he was asking out loud or if he only moved his mouth.
Worick! Where’s Worick?
The man who had first grabbed onto Nic stretched out towards him but suddenly paused. Through half-lidded eyes, Nic looked on as the arm reached down and lifted up the chain around his neck. Scrunched eyes examined the tag carefully. When the chain slackened and fell back against Nic’s neck, the expression of his rescuer dulled. He almost looked disappointed.
“Never mind,” Nic read on the man’s lips as he got back up. The earth decayed under the soles of his shoes when he got back up, dropping onto Nicolas’s helpless form
“W-wait. Wo-ick?” he tried to call after them, but he knew there was no use. Nobody cared. Of course, they didn’t. That didn’t come as a surprise to him. But if Worick was out there somewhere in the same spot as him, he needed to let them know! He was an actual person!
Once more, he tried to yell, arm still in the air, grasping for anyone, anything. Whatever sound might have been emitted from his throat was drowned out by debilitating coughs that made him crumble with pain. His thin line of vision narrowed further but he forced himself to clutch onto awareness.
Because they could help Worick. He was worth saving.
He felt his arm grow heavier, shaking harder. There was nothing left in him to keep it fueled. It burned from wariness, from diminishing hope and began to fall while Nic felt like he sank deeper into the ground he already laid in---
But something caught him. A strong hand grabbing onto his. A rough, dry palm clasping on, uncaring of the injuries littering the ravaged hand. Strong fingers tightening the hold as Nic felt himself slip.
The last thing he saw, was the sparkle of a single azure eye, and a stubbled cheek wrinkling into a devious smile, articulating a brief, “I’ve got you.”
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What's Mine Is Yours, I Guess
"That's my sweater."
"Yeah, smells like you."
Alex tried his best to glare at Michael all cuddled up on the couch in his sweater and a pair of tight briefs, eyes half lidded as he watched the episode of Gossip Girl that was playing on the TV. Glaring proved impossible. It took more effort than the glaring to not just jump on the couch with him. He looked so damn cuddly.
"Your shoulders are broader than mine and it was already kinda tight on me. You're stretching it out," Alex tried to argue. His voice didn't hold near as much protest as he intended.
"It's okay," Michael said softly, turning just a bit to lay on his stomach. A pillow was tucked under his head and his legs were splayed haphazardly. It was like he was just trying to get Alex to go lay with him.
"No, it's not," Alex said, gulping softly as his eyes focused on the back of his thighs. He had to force himself to look away, to remind himself that he had plans that didn't involve putting himself between Michael Guerin's thighs.
"Smells like you," he whispered again, his eyes drifting closed all the way. Alex's heart clenched and he couldn't find anything in him to complain anymore. Michael could have his whole fucking closet if he always looked and sounded like that.
"Fine," Alex said, making his way towards the door. He had no control when he stopped behind the couch, leaning over to press a kiss to his boyfriend's hair and his cheek. Michael smiled. "I'll be home later."
"I'll be here."
Alex had never regretted making plans so badly.
*
"You scared the shit out of me, thought someone kidnapped you and stole my car!"
"Yeah, like anyone could kidnap a telekinetic alien without waking you up. Right."
Alex had his hand over his heart that was beating like crazy as Michael just gave him that easy smile. Sure, it was nice that he bought him coffee and donuts on their day off, but he could've left a note.
"Well why'd you take my car instead of your truck?" Alex asked, steadying his still shaking hand as he grabbed the coffee.
"I got up early and was trying to get a load of laundry out of the way for you and I'm pretty sure my keys were in there and it locks, so I just took yours. Didn't think you'd mind," Michael said, still smirking as he ripped off a piece of his donut. Alex rolled his eyes.
"I don't, I just would like it if you told me when you use my things," Alex said, taking a sip of coffee only to find that it wasn't actually coffee. It was chai tea with a fuck ton of vanilla which happened to be his favorite 'I'm trying to relax' drink. It brought a smile to his face.
Michael looked him up and down, something glistening in his eyes as a warm smile doused on his face. Maybe Alex was mistaken, but it looked like his cheeks were getting red.
"You were worried about me," he said softly. Alex rolled his eyes, but still smiled as he sipped his tea.
"I just said I was."
"Yeah but like... legit worried that someone hurt me just 'cause you woke up without me," Michael said, "I've literally gone MIA for days and no one cared. You didn't know where I was for 5 minutes and you were shaking. You really love me, huh?"
Alex again rolled his eyes and felt his cheeks flush. He didn't know why he was so embarrassed by Michael pointing it out. His love for him wasn't exactly a secret. But, still, it made him feel like he was a stupid 17 year old to be called out like that.
"You stole my car, how was I supposed to act?"
"Yeah, sure. That's why you were worried."
*
"Move!"
"Comfy."
Alex groaned, limply pushing at Michael's form. He had taken over Alex's side of the bed without any shame. It wouldn't have been that annoying, but Alex had a system on how he got up in the morning and he didn't feel like switching it.
"It's my side," Alex groaned, "I'm the one with the military training, I should be closer to the door in case special forces come to kidnap you."
"Why do you always think I'm going to be kidnapped?" Michael laughed, only moving his head to flash a big smile but otherwise not budging.
"It was supposed to convince you to move," Alex argued, kneeling on the bed to steady himself more. Michael's hand instinctively went to the back of his thigh which made it a bit harder to focus on being annoyed.
"Look, we can share this side of the bed," Michael suggested, smirking as he started inching his hand up more, "This bed's too big. I wanna be closer."
"We can. In the middle. Not on my side," Alex complained, swatting at the hand that was now firmly on his ass.
"You're no fun," Michael said, finally scooting just a bit. He was still technically on Alex's side, but it was enough space that he could lay down now. He took what he could get. "You're like a grumpy old man."
"Says the guy who is literally pushing 85," Alex grumbled, fitting himself into Michael's side. He was pulled even closer and a wet kiss was smashed into his forehead. It easily took away any of his previous irritation.
"I was in a pod for most of that time so it doesn't count."
"Sure."
*
"Alex, are those your jeans?"
Alex sighed as Isobel pointed to her brother who seemed perfectly content in the jeans that were all but cutting off his circulation. He'd given up on fighting Michael about wearing his clothes, even if all of his jeans were now covered in oil stains.
"Yep," Alex said, tilting back his beer. Michael laughed at something Liz said and leaned over to take his turn at their game of pool, the jeans showing much more of his ass than literally anyone wanted to see.
"Oh my god, that's gross," Isobel laughed, turning away. Alex just rolled his eyes and let Rosa be the one to force the jeans over his hips. He wasn't close enough to hear what she was telling him, but he could assume it was a solid amount of berating out of love.
"We're not even married yet and he takes the whole 'what's mine is yours' thing way too seriously. He literally wore my engagement ring the other day," Alex complained though it wasn't much of a complaint. Most of the time he didn't mind sharing, there were just a few things that got annoying.
"Really?" Isobel asked, quirking an eyebrow as she nodded slowly.
"What does that face mean?" Alex wondered. Isobel was just as expressive as Michael, though he was still learning to decipher it. He could read Michael like a book and planned to get there with Isobel as well.
"Nothing. Just I like that he trusts you enough to take without asking. He's my brother and he's still too scared to ask for anything because he thinks my love is conditional. Or at least that's what my therapist says is probably it. I spent like five sessions complaining about how he won't let me help," she snorted. Alex rolled his eyes and his the smile that was forming behind his beer bottle. He hadn't really thought about it like that.
"So basically he thinks my love is unconditional and that he can annoy me and I won't leave?" Alex asked. Isobel let out a musical little laugh that really only came out when she was tipsy.
"Look, Alex, when you still love someone after all the shit you two have been through, it's not hard to see why he thinks its unconditional," she pointed out. Alex shrugged, deciding to let the topic go as he caught Michael's eye. The cowboy smiled broadly and blew a short little kiss before turning back to the Ortecho women.
Yeah. Maybe it was unconditional.
#IM ON MY PHONE AGAIN IM SORRY ABOUT THE LACK OF READ MORE#not sorry about the fluff#malex#malex fic#michael guerin#alex manes#roswell new mexico#roswell new mexico fic#rnm#rnm fic
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( genderfluid ) haven’t seen DAKOTA SAMPSON around in a while. the ALEX TURNER lookalike has been known to be (+) INDEPENDENT & (+) PROTECTIVE, but HE/THEY can also be (-) HOT-TEMPERED & (-) TURBULENT. The 24 year old is a SENIOR majoring in THEATRE. I believe they’re living OFF CAMPUS ( at home ) but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.
yes I AM an Arctic Monkeys fan , what gave you that idea !! ‘sup guys I’m Hylia and we don’t know self-control so I’m already back at it again with hitting my muse limit and applying for Dakota here. A note : Dakota’s an old muse but the only thing I’ve changed about him is his name ( along with modifying stuff to fit the connection I took and Watershed biz ) , so if you ever hear me call him Spencer , sorry for the slip-up - that’s just what his name was beforehand. But ANYWAYS , more under the cut !!
v brief mention of homophobia + transphobia and also... frequent mentions of religion.
STARTING OUT
k so I also highly rec you read Jackie’s intro bc Katie made this family and I’m just hopping in on the sibling ride
so yeah their parents were fuckin,,, picture-perfect religious fam on the outside but that’s not good 4 the fuckin’ kids and from the start Kota was always the problem child. Never sat still in church, always tended to gravitate towards the “dark/satanic” stuff and over time he was so used to being accused of that shit he sort of... embraced it ??
Lemme explain.
so Dakota was often punished for even batting an eye at stuff his parents didn’t like so he grew angry he wasn’t allowed to like certain shit and that just upped him liking it and taking part in that stuff tenfold.
It started innocently when he was young - he’d take his allowance, march on over to the closest store that sold CDs and bought every heavy rock album he could find. Linkin Park, Metallica, Rise Against, Sixx AM, that shit.
Then it escalated to taking an interest in SFX makeup, especially the gory part. Snuck out on Halloween to trick-or-treat and collect candy in the best costume he could make for himself.
Watched horror movies and played darker video games when he’d sneak out and would often take an interest in the decoration , the acting...
Then he started saving up and buying black clothes, ripped jeans, faux leather jackets, and even getting his ears and lip pierced. Threw temper tantrums when his parents told him to cut his hair. Got a tattoo of his sister’s name on his wrist with forged parental approval.
Started dating kids who had a reputation on being on the wrong side of the tracks !! Also came out as bi & genderfluid and lived in an extremely religious household so . . . ( tw : homophobia & transphobia ) they didn’t react well. But he flaunted it. He rubbed it in their fucking faces every chance he got since that was who he fucking was , and if you don’t like it ?? SHOVE IT.
But yeah. He always had a strained relationship with his parents for that reason. He was known as the black sheep of the family , the problem child. It was AMAZING he was so close with his younger sister , Jackie.
His sister was his everything. Perhaps the only person Dakota was certain cared about him and for that , swore to protect her. Especially against their parents and what Dakota considered their BACKWARDS methods of parenting.
So , he sorta took to parenting her himself - teaching her life skills and survival skills and how to deal with their parents.
TATIANA
okay - Tatiana’s relationship with Kota is kind of important so I wanna get this out of the way before I dive too deep into his character + personality
when they were younger, everyone thought he and Tatiana would get together. Everyone did. Whenever the Sampson and Samuels families would get together, he and Tatiana would immediately gravitate towards each other. They often spared each other glances in church, and he claims Tatiana fell in love with his “rebel” persona.
He even took her to senior prom.
But they never officially dated - they’d hang out regularly , yes , but they never considering themselves more than just friends . . . and then some. He often snuck into Tatiana’s bedroom by climbing through her window , often
Besides , he was the bad boy who renounced God in his family and Tatiana was the preacher’s daughter. How could they ??
Well . . . they still slept together. Quite often , actually. He often routinely visited her for such in her dorm at Lockwood , and it didn’t matter if she had a boyfriend or not. If she asked him to spend the night with her , he would.
He wrote Tatiana love letters he doesn’t know if she even opened. But it was very obvious Dakota harbored some feelings for her that went beyond friends with benefits. Tatiana may have felt the same - who knows ??
She led him on and played him like a fiddle. Maybe he knows about it , but refuses to accept it. He thinks she was genuinely in love with him , or he tells himself that to feel better and not so embarrassed.
Needless to say , he was struck with grief when she died. He wanted to be more than an ex-almost , but unfortunately , that was only how far they got.
PERSONALITY / CHARACTER
Dakota’s your stereotypical rebel without a cause - he’s loud , he’s unfiltered , and he doesn’t give a FUCK about your opinion so again , SHOVE IT.
But he’s not a bad dude at all - he’s actually pretty open-minded and a little wild , but fun to hang out with. He’ll be honest with you about his opinion on you - and he is NEVER one to shy away from his emotions or hide how he feels.
Believe it or not , the only vices he has are drinking every now and then ( normally nothing more than beer ) and smoking. Hasn’t touched drugs once in his life , not even weed.
He’s very outspoken and will fucking !! Tell you !! What he thinks !! Even - no , ESPECIALLY if you don’t want to hear it.
Half the time he says shit to piss people off and get a reaction. I’m sorry this is just how he is.
DEFINITELY someone into the horrific / creepy shit. He keeps the ID Channel on as background noise and can watch most horror movies and play horror video games without flinching.
Kinda sleeps around a lot and he knows not to attach sex to romance but also . . . it’s like. Horribly easy to lead him on. He can get attached to people and it’s so easy to tell when he’s got a crush so it’s sort of easy to manipulate him like that.
He’s VERY into acting !! He’s a showman , he likes attention. And portraying someone that isn’t him is one of the most fun things to do. And he’s wicked great at it - there’s something about having a hundred eyes on him that gives him confidence and validation where some may clam up.
... Also an attention whore but not a conceited jerk kind of attention whore.
Also into music , but it’s just a background thing. He knows how to play GUITAR and also the DRUMS , and can sing really well.
He’s short-fused as hell. It’s so easy to get him fired up as long as you say the right words , and it’s really easy to pick out what those words are. Mention or say anything negative about Tatiana or his sister and he’s on your ass.
Again , love makeup and does a lot of SFX makeup in his free time !! So yeah it’s a lot of creepy / gory shit and definitely not something his parents would approve of.
On the subject of his parents , he still lives with them but only to take care of Jackie. And whenever he’s with them , he does whatever he can to piss them off or to make them disapprove of him even MORE. So far , he’s been sliding inklings he worships the Devil and makes jokes about eloping or marrying people with careers the toxic religious people frown upon.
Yeah he really. Doesn’t like his parents. And he doesn’t want his parents to like him.
Jackie’s the best tho.
Also call him Kota or Kody or Koakoa Puffs or any puns with his name I’ll take it
WANTED PLOTS / CONNECTIONS
friends he has that know he was rly into Tatiana but were also aware of how she led him on
they either fuel his false hopes
or try to knock some sense into him by telling him the truth ( never listens tho )
PEOPLE ,,, who really disapprove of how he is for whatever reason. Could be someone who was close with the Samuels’ and know Tatiana was involved with him but they can’t stand the idea of her fucking someone like him.
Soft people he goes protective papa bear over !! Bc he would !! He totally fuckin would !!
People he regularly butts head with and just wants to get a fucking reaction out of bc again , that’s the name of the game
Theatre buddies !! Theatre buddies who he gets REALLY into it with
Or even theatre rivals , who don’t like his personality / need for attention
Fuckbuddies bc again Dakota sleeps around and sees no shame in it
Also ppl maybe who are attracted to him oNLY bc of the bad boy aesthetic / thing he’s got going on ??
Okay it’s late and I’m drawing more blanks but as always LIKE THIS FOR A PLOTTING IM !!
#water:intro#( &. abt. || coax me out my low and have a spin of my propeller#I'll b honest I'm kinda shocked Alex was still open but I'm hAPPY HE WAS !!!#love arctic monkeys. so much. n he's perfect for koakoa puffs over here.#homophobia tw#transphobia tw#religion tw
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The world needs more Piperson, so here we go!
Theodosia groaned as she plopped down onto Philip’s bed, in the middle of an argument with her friend. “Oh, come on, Philip! Georges is doing it,” she argued. “And for a 21 year old, you’re acting like a child.”
“Georges is practically part of your sorority and don’t act like you’re so mature, either,” Philip retorted exactly like a stubborn child, throwing a pillow at her.
Theodosia tutted and buried her face in the pillow, letting out a long, dramatic groan. Her sorority was holding a date auction for charity and they needed at least a few male participants. Their friend and Philip’s roommate Georges agreed without hesitation, but Philip himself... “You could get so much money for us,” she pointed out.
Philip shook his head. “I'm not that hot and, even if I was, I’m not into this kind of thing.”
Theodosia rolled her eyes, then sat up and looked Philip in the eye. “I’ll buy your lunch for a week.”
That Friday night, Philip sat between a couple of girls, Georges sitting closer to the beginning of the line. While Georges would be getting his date at around the middle of the 90 or so girls, Philip would be one of the last ten, they themselves being the only guys that agreed. Curse Philip and his being quick to give in to offers of food.
He watched as the girls in front of him got up, standing as their president bid them off. It seemed and felt so casual, but Philip couldn’t help but feel irked... Until Theodosia went up.
As usual, the president gave a few details about Theo as she walked up beside her and the bidding started at $50. A few in, it skyrocketed to $400, higher than average, and stopped. The buyer? Theodosia’s own parents. Philip’s parents were in the crowd. They could bid on him. Sure, Georges’s time was bought by a girl who seemed to be a bit older than them, but Philip’s parents wouldn’t subject him to that, right? ... Right?!
He jumped as a girl nudged him. Ugh, his nerves were killing him...
“Sorry,” she giggled, “But you’re up.”
Oh, god, he was up. He took a deep breath before stumbling to his feet and going, smiling at the crowd and being careful not to squint too much through the too bright lights, just like Theo taught him. He stood beside the president and kept his smile as the bidding began.
His nerves were put at ease as his father took the starting bid, then other people got involved. Just a couple of women, probably also their age, if not in their early thirties, but strangers all the same.
They began quieting off once things got higher than $300, then one voice piped up from the middle of the crowd.
“400,” it spoke, loudly and clearly, but calmly.
Philip looked around for it’s source, feeling a bit uneasy. At that point, his dad was his only hope in saving him from his own awkwardness.
“450,” Philip’s father challenged, glaring down the other. Who could it have been? Philip’s father had a tendency to not get along with anyone.
“500,” the second bidder continued, the price rising just as fast as Philip’s nerves.
Alexander opened his mouth to go higher, but was stopped as his wife squeezed the life from his hand.
“Alex, it’s just a charity event. That’s a lot of money for you to just try and fight.” Philip couldn’t hear, but his father’s silence was never a good sign.
“But Eliza-”
“Sold! To buyer 389!” the president called out, motioning for Philip to go ahead and leave.
Fuck.
Philip walked off stage, now alone with his thoughts. Okay... His father was enemies with everyone, right? Maybe it was just some cabinet member who disagreed with him once. Maybe it was just Mr Adams.... Oh god, he prayed it wasn’t John Adams. He hoped it was just Washington, but why would his dad be glaring at Washington?! Maybe-
Philip kept himself busy for the rest of the event that way, pondering in awkward horror over who could possibly be taking him out on a date. When it finally ended, everyone went around and met their dates, some for the first time face to face, like Philip. He looked around for the man who would recognize him and jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“I believe you’re looking for me?”
It was the same voice, but now it was way more clear... And definitely not who he imagined.
Philip turned and looked up, face to face with Thomas Jefferson.
Thomas Jefferson. The man who Philip’s father complained about without end, always ranting about how flashy he dressed and how cocky he was. Incredibly handsome was something that his father managed to leave out. ... Oh, god.. If Philip’s thoughts were correct, his father would kill himself, then kill Philip if he heard him thinking that Thomas Jefferson was hot. But it wasn’t like Philip could just not go out with him. Jefferson paid $500 to go on that date with Philip, no doubt out of spite. Not that Philip wanted to go out with him! He just.. Found him attractive. That was normal, right?..
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Jefferson asked, joking lightly.
Apparently, Philip had been overthinking for longer than he thought... “No.. Um..” Philip began slowly. How would he explain himself?.. “My father is-”
Jefferson nodded and cut him off. “I know who your father is. And I know what he says about me. This isn’t about some petty argument.”
Philip raised an eyebrow, unable to believe that for a second.
“Okay, just a little bit, but I came to this event because Burr asked me to. The fact that your father is my political rival has very little to do with it. You’re cute and it’s for a good cause, so I figured why not? I mean, it’ll just be some innocent fun,” Jefferson said with a shrug. “Maybe just dinner tomorrow night? Or would you prefer next weekend?” he suggested.
That put Philip a bit at ease, but he couldn’t help but be nervous and at least a bit awkward... “Um... Tomorrow night works. We can text and talk about it more later.”
“Alright.” Thomas grabbed his phone and opened it up to make a new contact, then gave it to Philip. “Put your number in and I’ll text you in a few hours. I should go before your father tries to strangle my kneecaps.”
Philip rolled his eyes at the stupid height joke, but did as Jefferson asked, giving him his phone number and simply setting his first name as his contact name before handing it back. “Alright. I’ll talk to you later.”
Thomas nodded before walking off, narrowly escaping the wrath of Alexander Hamilton.
“Are you okay, Philip? Did he come over already? Is he trying to make you do anything? Did-”
“Dad!” Philip cut him off, shaking his head. And he thought he himself was nervous about this. “Chill, nothing happened. I just gave him my number and we’re probably going out tomorrow,” Philip said with a shrug, then decided to throw in a lie. He didn’t want his father flipping out more than he was by thinking that Philip was actually attracted to Thomas Jefferson. “He was kind of an ass, but I can deal with it.” Actually, Philip was surprised by how nice Jefferson seemed. “You know I’ve dealt with all of those homophobes in high school,” the kid huffed. He and Georges went out for a short period and the reaction from their classmates was less than ideal. It wasn’t why they broke up, but it did make the decision that much easier.
“Your father is being dramatic, Philip. It’s just a date for charity and, if you do feel uncomfortable at any time, you are free to call us,” his mother rationalized, putting a calm hand on her son’s shoulder.
Philip nodded. “Thank you. I’m just ready to go home and call it a night,” he sighed, smiling at his parents before walking off. He found Georges and they went back to their shared apartment. As soon as they got there, Philip shed his clothes and collapsed into bed... But was interrupted by his phone beeping before he could sleep.
He groaned and picked it up, finding a message from an unknown number.
[It’s Thomas Jefferson.] [Did you want to talk now or in the morning?]
[We could talk now a bit, but don’t be surprised if I pass out and stop answering.]
[Fair enough. So, I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7. Formal dress. Dinner, then I can let you choose something, if you would like. How does that sound?]
Philip thought for a second. [How formal?]
[Button up and slacks are fine. A blazer and tie along with those are ideal.]
[Sounds like a plan, then.] He sent him his apartment name and address and his apartment number. [I’ll see you then.]
[Can’t wait.]
And, with that, Philip finally fell asleep.
#hamilton#hamilton fanfic#philip hamilton#thomas jefferson#theodosia jr#georges de lafayette#alexander hamilton#elizabeth schuyler#piperson
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requested by: beaniekt
oh gosh, this was requested so fucking long ago :/ IM SORRY ;-;
-
Zach had just sat down next to Bryce- with five cups of fruit loops- the brunette smiled wickedly looking at his close friend as Zach opened up the first cup of fruit loops, “Hey, I heard you were looking for some more money,” Zach looked up his eyebrows furrowed, he was he needed money but he couldn’t get a job because he had to constantly watch May, help Alex Standall with his physical therapy, and go to baseball- and basketball- practice/games.
The raven-haired boy shrugged while putting a few of the colorful cereal into his mouth, “I mean… I guess so, why?” He questioned.
“Well, how about you and I make a little bet” Zach stopped eating his eyebrows raised in curiosity, nodding inquisitively, “You see Standall over there,” Zach’s eyes followed Bryce's gaze. There Alex Standall was his light brown almost red colored hair picking at his salad, he and Alex were acquaintances they weren’t extremely close although Zach did help him from time to time it didn’t really make them best friends.
“Yeah what about him?” Zach asked looking back towards the wicked boy.
“I bet you can’t get him to fall in love with you in time of now to the end of the school year,” He smirked, the taller one of the two frowned, but money was money and Bryce was filthy rich.
“How much are we talking?” Zach asked popping another fruitloop in between his thin pink lips.
“Five hundred big ones,” Was it worth it? Zach decided on no. He shook his head slowly.
“Nah dude, that’s fucked up,” Bryce raised his eyebrows at the boy next to him.
“Someone’s afraid to lose,” He was manipulating and maniacal and he knew just how to get what he wanted, especially when it came to getting one of his goons to do something for him.
“I’m not afraid to lose it’s just that’s mean is all,” He shrugged speaking with less confidence than before eating more of the cereal.
“Mhm,” He hummed sarcastically, with a small grin playing at his thin lips, “I think someone’s a coward,” He sung grabbing Zach's cereal cup and eating a few. Zach hated that word, coward, he was one, that was true but he wouldn’t admit it he wouldn’t speak of it, what he said got underneath his skin.
“I’m not coward, I’ll do it…” He inhaled before continued, “For double the price,” Bryce nodded looking at his ‘friend’ with new found respect for him.
“Alright,” He nodded sticking his hand out, “It’s a bet,” Zach nodded a sinking feeling inside his stomach- he ignored it.
-
“Hey, Alex,” Zach said as they stood in the locker room of the swimming pool after another their physical therapy session. Alex looked up at the boy with a hum as he ran a towel through his hair, “Wanna go see a movie with me, I- I mean if you aren’t tired, because you really pushed yourself today,” He smiled, trying to persuade him.
“Am I going to get something other than salad?” He questioned making Zach chuckle.
“Of course,”
“Then yeah, okay, as long as it isn’t a cheesy shitty teen movie,” He rolled his eyes as he had slipped on his shirt, closing his locker.
“Nah, dude, we’ll watch a good movie,” He spoke his gaze lingering a little too long before he went ahead a put his white tee shirt on, putting his varsity jacket over, hair wet sticking to his forehead he ran his hands through it.
“What’s even playing at the theaters?” Alex questioned standing up using his cane for support. Zach thought for a second, what would be best to execute his plans.
“I think a good horror movie is playing I’m not too sure,” The giant shrugged before helping Alex out of the pools lockerroom, his heart nagging at him 'this is wrong, this is fucking wrong Zach, look at him he’s been through so much,’ he inhaled deeply, pushing the thoughts away, further into the back of his mind… If only he would’ve listened to that feeling.
As they got in the car Zach looked over at Alex, a silence fell between the two. He smiled before looking back to a steering wheel, once Zach got settled in he started the car and began to drive towards the Crestmont.
Jack noticed the silence no radio is playing so he took it upon himself to turn the radio up, going through the options before he landed on one Bitch Better Have my Money played Zach smiled contently, Alex was having none of it- he could get down to some Rih-Rih don’t get him wrong but this wasn’t a song he was into at the moment.
“Seriously?” The boy deadpanned, Zach looked over at him his eyebrows furrowed as he chuckled shrugged his shoulder.
“Bitch better have my money!” Zach sang along to the song with a knowing smirk toying on his lips, “Y'all should know me well enough!” He shrugged his shoulder up and down as a form of- terrible- dancing.
“This is shit Zach,” He rolled his eyes Zach looked over at him with a look of pure confusion.
“How can you diss the queen herself?” He questioned out of pure shock.
Alex shook his head sarcastically clicking his tongue, “Oh young Dempsey, you have a lot to learn, she is good- mmmmsure, but, not THAT good,” He shrugged simply.
“Alright, plug your phone into my aux, let's see,” Alex did what has requested a smile stretching across his lips, his dimples very predominately there.
The music began playing and Zach knew exactly who it was, he looked over at Alex, “Now, she is a true queen,” He explained as Billie Elishes Copy Cat played.
“Is this the song you get hyped to?” He asked.
“Yes, why wouldn’t I mean. C'mon, listen to it,” Alex replied looking out the window.
-
“Are you scared?” Zach asked the boy was hogging the popcorn, he had jumped for the tenth time.
“N-no, this amateur shit,” He whispered back to his taller counterpart. Zach smiled before looking back up at the screen Alex was obviously scared and Zach was too- not that he’d admit it. Alex jumped the popcorn being thrown up into the air the buttery popcorn landing on the two of them.
“Why’d you lie?” Zach questioned smirking biting back a laugh. Alex shot him a glare grabbing a piece of popcorn from Zach's lap.
“Hey guess what,” Alex whispered. Zach shrugged with a questioning look on his face, “Fuck you.” He smiled, Zach starred at Alex his eyebrows raised with a smirk, he mimicked Alex picking a piece of popcorn from his shoulder.
“Yeah, okay,” he smirked looking back at the screen.
“She’s so fucking stupid why is gonna go back into the-” A scream erupted from the woman on the screen scaring Alex forcing himself to lean into Zach his face straight into Zach's arms.
“Yeah, Alex, you’re totally not scared not at all,” Zach laughed a tad before rolling his eyes.
“Fuck you,”
“You would,” He smirked.
“Sorry, I have higher standards,” He smirked.
-
It’d been a month into the bet and now if you saw Zach you saw Alex and if you saw Alex you saw Zach. They were inseparable the best of friends, yes, they were extremely annoying together and no, they didn’t care nor did they notice, Bryce sure as hell did and spoke up to Zach, Zach was on his way to sleep over at Alex’s leaving Bryce's place, “Don’t tell me you actually like that freak,”Zach's stomach dropped and he wanted to defend Alex and put Bryce in his place but no matter how much he wanted too, he couldn’t.
“Nah man,” He faked a smile, “All for the bet, I want that money,” Bryce smirked it was enough to throw chills down Zach's spine.
“Yeah, man, of course the bet,” And with that Zach left his keys in hand, he frowned, was this worth it? Could it push him over the edge one day? Would it? What would happen after the money? Zach frowned hitting his head- Love, Simon style (Zach forced Alex to go and watch it with him, yes, Zach cried) on his stirring wheel.
“I’m a piece of shit aren’t I, dad?” He questioned to no one but himself, he didn’t even know if he believed in signs but at that moment he looked over at the right time and there a white butterfly landed on his windshield and his aunt calls those butterflies angel butterflies, he smiled to himself, do what’s right he could hear his father saying.
-
Alex starred up at ceiling his arms on his stomach, he couldn’t sleep- he just could put his finger on why “Zach?” He waited for a response looking at the strange patterns in the ceiling.
“Yeah?” Zach whispers. He longed to tell Alex about everything he wanted to, it’s what was right he took a deep breath.
“I can’t sleep,” Alex spoke mindlessly not really knowing Zach had something on his mind.
“Me either,” The raven-haired boy rolled over to face his smaller counterpart who was on the bed, to his surprise a pair of blue eyes were already trained on him.
“Why can’t you?” He asked softly picking at the sheets beneath him.
Zach shrugged, “Not sure,” He knew, he knew very well. Alex reached for the pillow underneath his head throwing it at the boy on the floor.
“What the heck, Alex?” He laughed throwing it back- softly of course.
“Suck it, Dempsey,” He smiled, it was something that Zach had seen a few times before but it was felt special like his dimples were only ever present around him, his smile so bright that even the sun got jealous it just got Zach's stomach flipping in circles.
“Before the world goes to shit in the next couple of weeks and we are all put on the trail do you want to go to the carnival with me tomorrow?” His dark brown eyes looked through his lashes at towards Alex. How could you say no to Zachary Dempsey? Short answer, you can’t.
“Yeah…” Alex smiled throwing the pillow back at Zach.
-
“You gotta win me a Teddy Bear,” Alex said as he pointed to the game it was night so light shone perfectly on Alex's smile. Alex felt normal- well as normal as he could- no one knew why he had the cane and there were no stupid whispers about him.
“You bet your ass I will,” Zach shot back with a smirk pulling out a couple of dollars as Alex took out his phone and opened Snapchat up and began recording as soon as Zach bought the balls.
“Don’t record me!” Zach giggled as he threw the ball making one of the moving clowns fall down causing the two of them to cheer, Zach looked back at the Alex with a smile before doing it, again and again, winning the prize. Zach- while Alex was still recording took his best friend into a large bear hug causing a laugh to erupt from the smaller boy, the recording had stopped and Alex- of course, didn't post it to his story but saved it- smiled as Zach let go of him.
The man in the booth smiled sweetly at the two, “Which bear would you like son?” Zach looked over at Alex.
“The giant brown one,” He said looking up at the taller more beefier of the two. The man nodded turning around handing it to Zach.
“You take care of him,” He said passing the bear over.
“Oh, we’re not a-”
“We’re friends,” Alex said shaking his head.
“Sure you are,” He smiled.
And with that, the two set off walking- Alex limping- around the carnival. “Teacups?” Zach suggested, Alex shook his head.
“It’ll make me sick,”
“Funnel cakes?” Zach said fixing the bear he was holding.
“Yeah,” The two slowly but surely made their way there getting two funnel cakes- one with extra cinnamon.
Zach whipped out his phone doing a boomerang from the funnel cakes to Alex. “That’s ugly, I’ll bet,” Alex frowned tearing off a piece with his hands.
“What do you mean?” The other one questioned his face stuffed, powered sugar around his lips.
Alex grabbed a napkin reaching for Zach's face- not realizing, “Me, I mean, its ugly because of me,” He shrugged his blue eyes looking down at his lips sipping away the powdered sugar- and then he caught himself quickly sitting down throwing the napkin towards the chocolate-eyed boy.
Zach rolled his eyes wiping his lips not saying a word about what had just occurred, “Don’t talk yourself down like that,” Zach sternly spoke looking straight into the icy blue eyes of Alex Standall. “You looked…” Zach struggled to find the right words, “Amazing,” He smiled a small and goofy grin.
Zach and Alex stared at each other for a while, “Sweet,” He said sarcastically, “Now eat your food,”
-
Within two months and a half, the two were all over each other's social media, if you looked on Zachs Snapchat you’d see Alex had hacked his phone- being the only person that knows his password- with a stupid photo of he and Zach. If you look on Alex’s Instagram you’d see his normal emo boy postings but sprinkled with a carousel post of he and Zachs adventures, in the description of those pictures it would read 'The jock and the crippled adventures part…’ The two of them were close extremely close.
“Zach,” The brunette haired boys whispered- it was pretty late- his phone on the tired boys face, zooming in.
“Shut the fuck up, Standall,”
He giggled his foot coming into the frame of his Snapchat video kicking him softly, “You’re the worst,” Zach opened his eyes at that comment flipping the boy off and at that moment when brown met blue for the million and tenth time something shifted the world stopped spinning, the universe stopped expanding, time had stopped. The two tired boys had a connection sure, but they had just become more than that, just one look and it shook the foundation of their friendship. It was silent until the recording ended and began playing snapping the two back into reality. That was that, it wasn’t mentioned for the rest of that night nor the following morning while Zach made breakfast- they had switched it up and spent the night at his house instead.
Alex leaned against the railing of the stairs watching Zach dance around the kitchen- he was creating his world-famous French toast. He slowly walked down the steps, “Good morning,” The brunette yawned making Zach look up pausing the music.
“Hm?”
“Good morning, Jesus, are you trying to wake up May?” He had slept over a few times and knew May- Zach's little sister- was always grumpy when she woke up, “Anyways, help me over there so I don’t bust my ass, Dempsey,” Zach did as he was told.
-
Alex sat alone in his room he hadn’t seen Zach in a week, after that strange day they just stopped talking and that made Alex sad sadder than he’d like to admit. He had hung out with Jessica a few times throughout the week but it wasn't as it was with Zach, the constant happiness Alex had never felt in his life sometimes he’d smile till his cheeks hurt, he felt more confident with himself.
You probably drove him away, his thoughts spoke to him, you did drive him away, everyone gets tired of you at some point. His brain kept pushing these thoughts towards him and he couldn't push them away and soon a tear fell and then another and then another until he was sobbing hysterically so hard he couldn't hear his phone ringing nor did he hear the knocking on his door until it busted open. His sad blue eyes looked up only to find Zach.
“What the fu-” He looked down at the crying boy, “Alex, what’s-”
“You got tired of me didn’t you?!” He shouted all of his sadness and anger pushing through his voice. “You hate me now don’t you?!”
“Wha- Alex? What do you mean?” He tried getting closer but Alex threw a pillow at him.
“Leave me alone! Just go!”
“I’m not leaving you, Alex,” He shook his head- his heart was heavy in his chest he was lying to Alex, all for what? Money?
“No go hang out with you’re real friends!”
“You are my real friends!” Zach said trying to reach for Alex only getting hand slapped away but that didn't stop him he took the crying boy in a hug he tried to push away from Zach but it was no use they stayed there in that moment for what seemed like hours.
“Why did you think that Alex?” Zach whispered against his neck, no answer to the question he just felt… Hurt?
-
“You know,” Zach said leaning on his locker waiting for Alex to get dressed, “We should go to Monets,” Zach had to admit, he loved hanging out with his new found best friend, he loved it more than anything in the world. He loved the feeling in his stomach like the flutter of butterflies when the almost red-head hugged him, he loved the scent of Alex Standall, but he was nothing but confused. He was straight... Wasn’t he? I mean he and Hannah have done some things, if you’re picking up what he’s putting down, he’d always found women attractive never a stupid guy, but he just can’t help but think of Alex when he tried to drift to sleep when he tried to do anything. That’s what made this bet so hard to execute, they’re best friends but recently he’s noticed a shift in the friendship, not a bad a bad one, not at all actually.
“If you’re planning to propose,” He said putting his shirt on, “You’ll be thoroughly disappointed, Dempsey,” He looked behind himself reaching for his cane, “It’s a no,” A mimicked a sad smile, the other boy held out his large hand for Alex to grab rolling his eyes.
“Ah, too bad, you could’ve had all the candy in the world,” The two carried on the joke until they got into the car.
“What’s the song we’re listening to today, oh wise one?” Zach goofed around, looking over towards Alex with a smile.
“I don’t know man, I didn’t prepare,” The two laughed and just talked all the way to Monets something the two did often, but it was different it had a different feel to it, like it was a big world but it was there’s for the taking, Alex felt more normal than he had in forever and Zach felt... Happy, like his feet were so light, he didn’t have the weight of the tapes over him it was just he and Alex, Alex and Zach, it sounded... Right.
-
The two sat on the higher level of Monets, “Zach?” Zach looked up from the drink he had, had whipped cream on his face he felt it and licked a bit of it off before grabbing a napkin and wiping the rest of his face off.
“Yeah?” Blue met brown. Alex was sure that this wasn’t just some stupid moment like the one the two shared on that late Saturday night, it was real.
“Have you ever-” Alex struggled to find the words, “Questioned yourself, like uh... I don’t know, Sexuality wise, ya know like I thought I was straight with like Jessica and stuff and then... I don’t know what I’m saying-” Zach raised his brow at him.
“No, I get what you’re saying,” Zach nodded, “Haven’t we all?” He wanted to keep it vague, but it sounded douchy.
Alex took a sip of his hot chocolate, “So you have?” His big blue eyes stared straight into the soul of the eyes, just as dark as his the coffee underneath the whipped cream in Zach’s mug.
Zach shrugged, “Yeah, why do you ask?” Alex turned away to drink more of the hot chocolate.
“I don’t know, I just... I’m confused,” He probably stared so hard at the hot chocolate it grew eyes and stared right back at him.
“Alex?”
“Hm?” He still didn’t look up.
“Who?”
He looked up and starred at Zach which answered the question, a smile spread across his face, “God, why are starring at me like that?” The two laughed, Zach and Alex. Yeah, that sounded right.
-
When Zach woke up on the bed instead of the floor it felt right, he almost forgot about the stupid bet. “Hey,” Alex said his eyes fluttering open his voice raspy and deep.
“What are we?” Alex groaned turning away from Zach’s question.
“It’s too early for this,”
“I’ll decide,” Zach chuckled, “We are boyfriends,” Alex turned back over squinting at Zach.
“Yeah okay, now shut the fuck up,” Zach reached his hand over capturing his hips into his long arms, “So we’re that couple?” Alex mumbled.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” The raven-haired boy laughed.
“Shut up, dude,”
“Dude?” The two spent the rest of their morning laughing and talking, their first morning as a couple was... Sweet.
-
Five months into the bet, the few people that knew about them teased them constantly- in the most loving way possible of course- about how disgustingly cute they were, and they were right, see when they were just best friends they were extremely obnoxious together and everyone knew it, but now they were the type of couple you and you’re boyfriend WISH they could be.
It was almost their two month anniversary and Zach needed to get rid of that stupid tug at his heart, he wasn’t just a bet to him anymore, he was far more than that, “Alex wait in the car, I’ll be out in a sec,” He directed, Alex just nodded distracted by a game- a kept losing- on his phone, surely he was going to get bored of it.
He stepped on the stairs leading up to the Devil’s house, knocking on the Devil’s front door. The car began to get too hot for Alex’s liking so he had to roll down the window, little did he know everything he was about to hurt would break his heart in two. “Hey buddy,” Bryce smiled wickedly it made Zach want to barf but he kept his cool. “What’s he doing here?” He pointed his chin towards Zachary’s car.
“That’s what I came here to talk to you about,” The boy was nervous his heart in his throat.
“You fell for him didn’t you Zachy?” Bryce laughed through his nose, “Or... Oh shit, you’re dating him aren’t you?”
Zach’s face fell he looked anywhere but Bryce’s face, “I-”
“He was just a bet, I can’t believe it...” He pushed Zach’s shoulder, “You’re a fucking fag,” His smile grew.
“A bet?” Alex was slowly making his way over toward’s Zach and Bryce, “A bet!” Alex’s breathes were short and shallow.
“No, Alex- I swear-”
Bryce smirked enjoying the show,” Don’t you ever fucking come near me ever again! Fuck you, you’re a piece of shit!” His voice cracked as a single tear fell from his eye.
“Alex, I’m sorry I was going to tell-”
“I- So, I was just some bet! I was a fucking bet to you!” He exclaimed trying to hobble off he wanted to never see anyone ever again.
Zach chased after the limping boy, “No, Alex! In the begging you were but Alex.. I love you!” The boy exclaimed all of his cards on the table.
“Prove it. Prove that you love me! Or are you just gonna lie to me again?” He was so angry, bitter.
“I will! I’ll prove it, whatever it takes.”
-
Alex slammed his door shut throwing items around his room tears tracking down his face, “I’m a fucking idiot!” He shouted trying to pick up the bear but ultimately failing so he just threw himself onto the excessively large bear sobbing into it as fell asleep, he wore his heart on his sleeve and in return he got burned.
-
Alex sat with Jessica and Clay during lunch telling them what happened, as more of their group came he told all of them, and then there was Zach, “Oh look,” Ryan said rolling his eyes taking a bite out his salad.
“Alex- I-”
“Get the fuck out of here Zach,” Clay snarled, he was furious, first he hurt Hannah and now Alex.
“No, I have to prove something to him.” He shot daggers at the rest of the table.
The lunchroom went silent as Zach began to speak rather loudly, “I, Zach Dempsey, fucked up.” He was scared, terrified even but he couldn’t let the same thing that happened to Hannah happen to Alex, he just couldn’t. “I made a bet with a friend...” He spoke rather biterly, “And I had the five months left of my junior year to make Alex Standall fall in love with me,” He gulped, “I hurt him,” He explained further, “But, I want everyone to know, I wanted to tell him- I was scared, extremely,” He bit his lip, “I was a coward, but I ended up falling in love with the fucking most beautiful,” He looked down towards Alex who looked like a deer in headlights,”Person ever, and I don’t want to hurt him ever again,” He sighed, “So, here I am, just a boy asking for you’re forgivness, I will work for the rest of my life for you to forgive me Alex Standall, I love you,”
Alex shook his head tearing up, “Fuck you, Zach!” Zach looked taken back, but it’s not like he expected it, “Fuck you for taking my sadness and making so fucking happy okay, I love you!”
I guess you could say the rest was history.
#slow burn#zalex fanfic#zach dempsey#alex standall#prompt#i love my soft boys#13rw season 2#13rw season 3#13rw headcannon#13rwedit#13rw imagine#really gay#hella fucking gay
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Away on Business
An erotic cuckolding tale by Alex Skylar
Mark pulled at the knot of his tie as he stepped into his hotel room and dropped his briefcase on the bed. It had been a long day of business meetings, but it was finally over. At just past five, he had three hours before he was supposed to join up with his colleagues for dinner and drinks.
He took off his dress shirt and slacks, then pulled out some jeans and a simple t-shirt for later. Right now, he was perfectly content to relax on the bed in just his boxers and a white undershirt.
Mark hated these monthly business trips, but it was a requirement of the job. He was working as one of the chief executives of a large restaurant chain. Every few months, the regional executives would meet up for a conference with the heads of the company. It was rough to spend an entire week away from his wife Amber every few months, but the fact that they lived in pure luxury was enough to make up for it.
Mark had acquired a lot of wealth very early on, and by his early thirties, he had built himself a powerful network of financial friend who helped him grow his riches until he could live comfortably amongst the upper class.
As he lounged on the clean white sheets, Mark’s thoughts turned to his wife. A lot of people would consider her to be a trophy wife, and by all accounts, she certainly would qualify as such. She was an average height, with a perfect toned body. Because she didn't have to work, she spent most of her days keeping her physique in pristine condition. She exercised several hours a day, and maintained her smooth blonde hair and perfect skin with regular visits to the salon and spa.
They had met early on in Mark’s career. She had always pushed and motivated him to do more, and a lot of his success was due to her support. Now he could provide for her, and he loved that. As much as she looked like a trophy wife, she had worked hard and shown her dedication to her husband. She made him happy, and he loved to make her happy in return.
The only area where Mark felt like he didn't really measure up was in physical appearance. Amber was stunning, especially compared to his average appearance. She was always incredibly loving with him and never complained about his performance in bed, but it occasionally occurred to him that it would be impressive to actually see her with an equally beautiful man.
With a few hours to kill, Mark pulled out his phone and decided to text her to see how she was doing.
“Hey, honey! How are you?” he messaged her.
“I’m great baby! I can't wait for you to get home tomorrow.”
“I know,” Mark replied. “A week is way too long to be apart from you.”
“Yes, it is. I need you to get back and fuck me again. I’m getting tired of my toys!”
Amber had a very healthy sexual appetite. She was often waiting for him at home in some form of lingerie when he got back from work. For trips like this one, she had purchased a huge array of toys to satiate her needs while he was away.
“I’m getting tired of my hand,” he replied sympathetically, laughing to himself.
“Well, just one more night and then we can see each other,” Amber answered with a hint of optimism. “What are you up to tonight?”
“I’m just going out with a few of the guys from the team tonight. How about you?”
“I have that dinner tonight with Linda and her husband, Jack. The one you were supposed to go to before they called you down there,” she said with a hint of aggravation.
Linda was an acquaintance from the neighborhood. She wasn't a particularly pleasant person, but she was running for some leadership position at the local country club, and she was trying to butter up a lot of the big names at the club. She had been courting Amber’s vote, and had suggested a private dinner at her extravagant timeshare. She had even hired a personal chef for the evening.
Her husband Jack was a nice guy, maybe ten years older than Mark. He played tennis every day and was in great shape for his age, with dark black hair that was peppered with a few early grey hairs. Mark had always wanted to become better friends with him, but his wife always seemed to butt in and interrupt their plans.
With Mark out of town, it would just be Linda, Jack, and Amber for the evening.
“Oh, are you still going to that?” Mark asked, hoping she wasn't too upset at him for not being there.
“Yeah, I would feel bad canceling,” she said. “They already booked the timeshare and the cook, so it would be a waste of their money if I bailed, too.”
“Well, that's nice of you. When are you leaving?”
“I’ll probably head out in a half hour. I already finished my hair and makeup, so I just have to figure out what to wear.”
Before Mark had gotten the call about this trip, Amber had been talking about finding a way to make the night more entertaining. She had planned to wear a sexy little white minidress with a zipper that ran from the bottom hem all the way up to the low-cut V below her neck, with a sexy new bra and panty set underneath. Her goal was to tease her husband all night until he was ready to rip her clothes off by the time their guests had left.
“Do you still have that new lingerie you bought to wear for me?” he asked.
“Yeah, but there's no point in wearing it now if you aren't here to see it.”
“Nonsense,” he replied to her. “You should wear it anyway, along with that dress I like. Don't let it go to waste.”
“I suppose I could do that,” Amber conceded. “It does make me feel sexy. I just wish you could see the underwear, though.”
“So send me a picture.”
A few minutes went by, and a picture message came through. Mark opened the file and felt his jaw drop open. Amber had tucked her body into a lacy pair of white boy shorts and a full lacy white bra that lifted her breasts into the perfect contour and position. They didn't really need a bra to stay in place, but this one somehow made them look even better.
“Damn, maybe I will have to revisit my hand one more time tonight,” he replied, laughing at himself again.
“You better be thinking about me if you do!” she snapped back. She loved having his attention, and Mark had no problem giving it to her. “Maybe I should find something else. Linda doesn't have much of a rack, and I don't think she’ll be happy about her husband staring at mine.”
“Well, maybe that will keep her from getting too friendly! Besides, her husband will love you for it.”
“You're so bad!” she replied jokingly. “I kind of like the idea, though. I guess I will stick with this.”
Something about the idea of his gorgeous wife showing herself off for another woman’s husband stirred Mark’s cock and got his heart racing. He pictured her in that dress, with Jack sitting across from her and trying to maintain eye contact, thinking about how badly he wants to fuck her. It was an intriguing thought, but it took a deeper turn when Amber texted him again a few minutes later.
“Oh, great. Linda got sick on the way to the timeshare, and now she’s not going to be able to make it.”
“That’s too bad,” Mark answered. “I guess that means the whole reservation was a waste.”
“Actually, Linda says Jack is already there and I should go join him. They can't cancel the reservation, so she wants me to enjoy it. Would that be inappropriate?”
“My beautiful wife having dinner alone with an attractive older man in an expensive suite? No, not at all!”
There was a part of Mark that actually meant that, even though the tone made it sound completely sarcastic.
“You're right,” she answered. “I’ll tell Linda that I can't go.”
“No, honey, don't do that,” he replied quickly. “Just go and have a good time.”
“Are you sure?” she asked again.
“Yes, go have fun. It’ll be good for Jack to get an eyeful of something nice to think about when he jerks off later.”
“Mark!” Amber snapped back at him. “He isn't going to jerk off thinking about me later. Why would you say that?”
“After staring at those tits all night, then going home to Linda, I’m sure he will be.”
“Well, it’s a good thing he can't see what I’m wearing below this dress, because he would probably have a heart attack.”
Mark felt the sudden urge to push the conversation on a different direction. His cock began to twitch, and he reached down to slowly stroke himself through his boxers. The soft fabric felt good against his erection.
He wanted her to be a little naughty. He wanted her to show off on purpose. He wanted her to turn on a married man the way she was turning him on right now.
“Maybe you should lower the zipper on your dress so he can see a little bit of it,” he suggested candidly.
“Mark, you are so bad! Stop it! You don't want me showing off for him like that.”
“I mean, I kind of do,” he admitted. “Just tease him a little. There's nothing wrong with that.”
“I’m sure he wouldn't mind,” she mused. “I’ve got a better ass than his wife, too, and it looks great in this dress.”
“Damn, I really wish I was there to see it!”
“That's okay, baby. Jack will get to enjoy it for you!”
Her words were slightly sinister, yet somehow sexy. Not only was she going to flirt with another man, but she seemed to be enjoying giving Mark a tease as well. His blood began to boil with the excitement and his cock swelled.
“You're so naughty,” he replied.
“Oh, stop it. It’s not like he would actually make a move on me.”
“And what if he did?” Mark fired back.
“With how horny I am, I would probably drop to my knees in front of him!”
“Amber!” Mark snapped back.
“Ha ha, you started it!” she said playfully.
“I did,” he admitted, “and now it's got me hard.”
“Thinking about me on my hands and knees? Of course,” she said with an implied eyeroll.
“Amongst other things,” he continued.
“You’re touching yourself, aren't you? Tell me what you're imagining.”
“You, on your hands and knees in that bra and panty set you bought for me, with a big cock fucking your beautiful mouth.”
“Mark, you're going to get me horny and I have to leave soon,” she texted.
“I know.”
“To go to dinner with another man.”
“Yes.”
“A long romantic dinner in an expensive suite with a big bed.”
“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he said, struggling to contain himself.
“You really like this?” Amber asked incredulously, when she suddenly realized he wasn't joking.
“I do. I’m as hard as a rock right now.”
“You're such a dirty man. I love it!” she answered. “So if Jack does pull his cock out tonight, what do you want me to do?”
“You know,” he said simply.
“No, tell me,” she urged.
“Suck his cock,” he answered firmly.
“Oh my god, this is so crazy. Are you sure you want me to do that? Like, for real?”
“I don't know,” Mark hesitated. “I’m just so turned on right now, and it sounds so incredibly hot.”
“You do know how this is going to end if I do suck him off, right?” she asked.
“You're going to fuck him, aren't you?”
“Yes. If I suck Jack’s cock, I am going to fuck him, too. I can't suck a dick without getting fucked after.”
Before he could agree or disagree, Amber cut his reply off with another message.
“I have to go soon, Mark. Please, don't cum yet. Wait until after you get back from dinner.”
“Why?”
“Do you want me to flirt with Jack?” she asked. “Do you want me to be naughty?”
Mark stared at his phone nervously. He was placing a lot of trust in her, but at the same time his mind was too twisted by his hormones to think straight.
“Yes, baby,” he answered. “I want you to do it.”
“Then wait until later and I will tell you all the dirty things I did. You can cum for me then.”
“What exactly are you going to do? Mark asked nervously, questioning how far this game would go.
“What do you want me to do?”
Her words danced hauntingly as he contemplated his answer.
“Flirt with him. Tease him, too. Be naughty.”
“That's easy. I could do that even if you were there. Is that where I should stop?” she pushed.
“No,” he said hesitantly. “Do more.”
“You have to say it, Mark. I want to tell me what you want me to do tonight”
“If he hits on you, let him,” Mark told her. “If he tries to touch you, don't stop him.”
“You’re so bad, baby. Okay. I will let him touch me,” she replied seductively.
“Really?”
“Yes, baby. Tell me what else you want,” Amber continued unrelentingly.
“Do you want to suck his dick tonight?”
“No,” she replied, “but I will if you want me to do it.”
“I do,” he answered simply.
“You know what is going to happen, right?”
Mark took another deep breath. He had stopped stroking himself when she said she wanted him to wait, but his cock was so hard, it ached. He squeezed it tightly to relieve the pressure, but avoided stroking it.
“I know. I want you to be bad,” he said finally.
“Tell me you are okay with Jack being the first man to take these brand-new panties off of me.”
Mark groaned audibly, shaken by her wanton behavior. He wanted her so bad in that moment, he would have allowed her to do anything she wanted.
“I’m not just okay with it. I want him to do it.”
“Fuck, baby, I love your dirty mind so much! I’ll do anything to make you happy. Just don't cum until we both get back. It might be a little late. Bye, my love.”
Amber was gone. Mark dropped his phone and took a deep breath. He decided a cold shower was in order before his night out, so he undressed and spent the rest of the evening trying to distract himself from the image of his wife and Jack, alone in that luxurious suite together.
Amber put down her phone and took one last look at herself in the mirror. Physically, she was proud of the shape she was in. Some people might consider her a gold digger because of her beauty and her husband’s wealth, but the truth was that she really did love Mark. He was fun to be around, he always made sure she had everything she needed, and he never insulted or put her down. She had no problem staying loyal to a man who was so incredible toward her, and she would still feel that way even if they didn't have a dime to their name.
Amber loved the idea of flirting with Jack too, though. He was a handsome man, and always good company. She enjoyed being around him too, even though his witch of a wife was always there.
Amber gathered her things and headed to the car. She punched the address into the GPS, then made her way to the timeshare.
Questions floated through her mind as she cruised down the highway. Would Mark be as excited if she actually went through with it and fooled around with Jack, or was that just pillow talk fueled by a crazy fantasy? There would be no way to tell without actually doing it. If he really wanted this though, then why should she say no? It was his fantasy, and she wanted to do whatever she could to make him happy.
As she got out of her car, Amber decided that she would let fate decide. She would be sweet and flirty, and if Jack made a move, she wouldn't say no. If he wanted her, he would have her. It would all be up to him.
Amber made her way up the walkway to the private suite. She paused before she knocked on the door and looked down at her skin tight mini dress that hugged every curve of her body. The zipper was all the way to the top. She pulled it down a few inches until the edge of her white lace bra was visible, then smiled. A little extra skin might help her chances.
Amber knocked on the door, and moments later it swung open. Jack was waiting for her with a warm smile on his face.
“I’m glad you could join me this evening,” he said, holding out his arms and giving her a friendly hug. “You look amazing tonight.”
“Why, thank you!” she said as she blushed.
Jack’s arms felt strong, even just in the brief hug he gave her. When Amber stepped back and saw his handsome face again, she felt a little giddy with excitement.
Maybe this was going to be a pretty good night, after all.
Mark got back to his room a little after eleven in the evening. He had spent all night trying to distract himself and failing miserably. It didn't take long before he was second-guessing himself, struggling with the idea that he had given his wife permission to sleep with another man. Maybe she had just been messing with his head when she told him to wait. Just because she had his permission didn't mean she would go through with it.
He kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his boxers, then climbed under the sheets and pulled out his phone.
“Hey, baby, are you there?” he texted her once he was situated.
“Hey, honey. How is my man doing?”
“I’m good,” he replied calmly. “We just got back from dinner though, so I’m a little buzzed. Are you home?”
“Of course, Mark. I was out for dinner, not a night at the club!”
“Well, I wasn't sure if something had happened,” he admitted. “I figured you might have stayed later if it did.”
“He wouldn't have been able to stay late regardless. Linda was texting him all night, so he left by ten to get home. It was kind of funny. I think she ended up getting pretty nervous about the two of us being alone together.”
“Well, I can't really blame her, especially considering how you look compared to her,” he said. “How was the food?”
“Amazing!” she replied. “I didn't eat much because it all tasted so rich, but it really was quite delicious.”
“When did you guys finish eating?”
“A little before nine. We stayed a little longer after the service cleared the dishes and just chatted while we finished our champagne. There was a huge fireplace with a comfy couch in front of it, so we sat and talked for a bit.”
“You talked for an entire hour?” Mark asked, feeling a little suspicious.
“Yeah, why?” Amber responded. “Are you feeling a little jealous now?”
“Maybe just a bit.”
“You're crazy, honey. You should go back and read what you were saying to me earlier! You sounded like you really wanted me to do it!”
“I know,” Mark said. “It was crazy. I was so turned on. I don't know what came over me.”
“Would you be mad if something really did happen?” Amber asked.
Mark felt his heart skip a beat, then start racing. Amber seemed to be dancing around his questions, refusing to say if she did or did not do anything.
“I can't really be mad, since I gave you permission,” he said. “Did something happen?”
“I mean, I did tease him a little.”
“Really, babe?” Mark typed. “How?”
His fingers were shaking, which made it difficult to get even the simplest words into his phone. He watched the screen intently, every second feeling like hours.
“You told me to lower the zipper on my dress, so I did. I’m sure he liked it, because he kept glancing down at my cleavage all night.”
Mark imagined his wife in her low-cut dress, sitting across from Jack as he stared longingly at the curves of her breasts protruding from the top of her dress.
“Wow, that's amazing,” Mark said. “I knew he would love that. Was that all you did to tease him?”
“Not exactly,” she continued hesitantly. “After we sat down on the couch, I was feeling a little tired, so I laid my head down on his shoulder while we were talking. After a while, he put his arm around me and I felt really comfy and relaxed. It was nice. It was all pretty innocent until his hand moved off my hip and ended up on my breast.”
Mark felt his breathing stop for a moment. He blinked a few times and everything kicked back in high gear. His heart was thumping in his chest and his cock was as hard as a rock.
“What? You didn't stop him?” he asked.
“I was going to, but then I remembered you said I should let him touch me if he tried, so I let it happen.”
“Then what happened?” Mark pried.
“When I felt his hand on me, I turned to look up at him. That was when he kissed me.”
Mark felt his stomach wrench into a knot.
“What the fuck, Amber?” he typed furiously.
“I know, I’m so sorry! I just felt so comfortable, and I knew you wanted me to tease him, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt anyone to have fun and go with it!”
Mark took a moment to compose himself, taking a few deep breaths. This wasn't her fault. In a moment of heated passion, he had told her should could do whatever she wanted, and she had taken him at his word.
“It's okay, it's not your fault,” he told her, trying to console her. “I told you that I was okay with it.”
“I know, but I should have said no.”
“Just tell me the rest,” Mark pushed, wanting to know the whole truth.
“Are you sure? If you want to hear it, I’ll tell you, but I refuse to lie to you. I’m going to tell you the whole truth, and if you are really upset that we kissed, then I don't think you're going to want to hear what happened after that.”
“Just tell me,” he repeated.
“Okay,” she started. “We were making out in the couch, and I started rubbing his leg. My hand moved up until I felt his cock through his pants. He was already hard, and I started thinking about what you had said about imagining me on my knees in that new lingerie. So I stood up in front of him and pulled the zipper all the way down, then took my dress off for him.”
“Fuck,” Mark replied bluntly, feeling himself starting to sweat. “Don't stop. What did you do next?”
“I dropped to my knees and unbuckled his belt, then pulled his pants off. His cock was right in front of me, so I just went for it.”
“You sucked his dick?”
“Yes,” Amber replied bluntly. “I sucked Jack’s cock.”
“Was it small?” Mark asked next, hoping for some consolation to make him feel better about the situation. If that was what he wanted though, he had asked the wrong question.
“No, not at all,” she replied quickly. A few moments later, she added, “Sorry, he’s at least a few inches bigger than you.”
Mark felt his cock aching for release. He had never been this turned on before.
“What happened next?” he pressed.
“I sucked him on the couch for a few minutes, and then he scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom. The bed was a huge, luxurious sleigh bed with super comfy sheets and a thick, fluffy comforter. He laid me down on it, and I went back to sucking him while he stood over me.”
“Did he cum in your mouth?” Mark asked next, once again hoping for some consolation, hoping that she had just stopped at the blowjob.
“No,” she said simply.
Mark stared at his phone, waiting for more, but he could feel her hesitating.
“Tell me,” he said finally.
“Jack was the first person to take these new panties off of me.”
Mark took a deep breath, fighting back his orgasm. She had fucked him. His beautiful wife had actually fucked another man, and he couldn't be mad at her. He had given her his blessing.
“He fucked you,” he said.
“Yes, baby,” she replied nervously. “He fucked me. I told you I would want him to fuck me if I sucked his dick, and you told me you wanted me to let him! I’m so sorry.”
“Again, you don't have to apologize. I told you I wanted you to do it. How long did he fuck you?”
“It wasn't very long. Maybe twenty minutes once we were in the bedroom.”
Mark had finally found something comforting in the situation. At least it had been a brief tryst.
“Did he make you cum?” he asked next.
“Yeah,” she answered sheepishly.
“Really?” he replied, wanting more.
“Yes, he really did. I mean, it was such a crazy situation. I was with someone different than you, which made it exciting, and I thought you wanted me to do it, so it made it even hotter to think that I was turning you on, too.”
“Was it good? How did it end?”
“Baby, don't ask me these questions if it's going to upset you,” Amber begged him. “I thought you wanted me to do this. The last thing I want to do is make you more upset.”
“I’m not upset,” Mark confessed. “I’m actually really turned on right now. I’ve been touching myself the whole time we’ve been talking.”
“Really?” she asked, clearly relieved. “I was so scared you were mad at me and going to leave me!”
“Never, baby,” he assured her. “I’ll always love you, no matter what. You just caught me a little off guard. That's it.”
“Oh, thank god! Don't cum yet then! I want to tell you the rest of it.”
“There's more?” Mark wondered incredulously.
“Just a little bit more. He had me bent over the bed and was fucking me from behind when I felt him start to slow down. I knew he was almost done, and suddenly he just dug his fingers into my flesh and started grunting. He came so hard, I could feel it shooting inside my pussy!”
“Oh, fuck, baby,” Mark said. “You let him fuck you raw with no condom?”
“Yeah, he didn't have any and I couldn't stop myself. I figured you would like it better that way anyway. Was I right?”
“Absolutely!” he replied enthusiastically. “So what happened after that?”
“We both got dressed and cleaned ourselves up,” Amber continued. “We went to leave and he started kissing me again. It was so nice, I just stopped and enjoyed it for a few minutes. My hand brushed his crotch, and that's when I realized he was hard again!”
“Wow, really? I knew he wouldn't be able to resist you!”
“I know! Linda was blowing up his phone though, and I knew we wouldn't have time to go for another round, so I dropped to my knees and started sucking his cock again. I think that was probably one of the best blowjobs I have ever given. It only took me two minutes to suck him off.”
“Holy shit, Amber, that's incredible!”
“I know, baby. I was just so horny, I couldn't behave.”
“I can't believe you had another man’s cock in your mouth an hour ago. I can just imagine him pulling out and spraying his seed all over your perfect tits.”
“Mmm, I love your dirty mind, baby!” Amber replied excitedly.
“So, you liked the way he fucked you?”
“I loved it, baby,” she answered.
“Do you want to fuck him again?” Mark asked.
“I don't know. I mean, you were the one who wanted me to fuck him, and I wouldn't have done it if you hadn't suggested it. So, I guess you're the one we should be asking, not me!”
“You can't ask me that now! I’m so turned on right now, I would probably let you do anything you wanted with anyone you wanted!”
“Ha-ha, I know,” she conceded. “I just wish you could have been there to see it all happen.”
“All four of us?” he asked.
“No, just you, me, and Jack.”
“The three of us in bed together?” Mark said, pondering the idea.
“Anywhere, really. The bed, the couch, a table.”
“You aren't joking, are you?”
“Not at all,” she said firmly. “If you're ever in the mood to do something like that again, just let me know.”
“You really liked it, didn't you?” Mark asked.
“I told you I wasn't going to lie to you,” she replied. “I absolutely loved it.”
“Are you hoping I’ll be in the mood again sometime soon?”
“Yes,” she replied.
“You want to fuck Jack again?”
“Yes, honey,” she continued. “I hope I can do it again someday.”
“Fuck, baby, I love hearing you say that! Are you touching yourself, too?”
“Mmhmm,” Amber replied. Mark could imagine the purr in her voice if she had spoken the words to him.
“I want you to think about his cock while you touch yourself,” Mark teased. “Think about how good he felt inside you, less than two hours ago. Think about how hard he made you cum all over his hard cock.”
“Oh god, baby, you’re so bad! I’m going to tell you one more thing that happened tonight, and then I want you to cum for me. Okay, baby?”
Mark took a deep breath and braced himself.
“I will, I promise. What is it?”
“When I was blowing him right before he left, he didn't pull out and cum on my tits. I let him cum in my mouth, and I swallowed every single drop of it. I can still taste him.”
Mark dropped his phone as his cock suddenly erupted in his hand, spraying warm goo all over his belly and the sheets around him. He had never had an orgasm that intense, and it felt like everything inside him had shot out through the tip of his dick. It took a few moments before he could collect himself enough to return to his phone.
There was a message from Amber waiting for him.
“Are you still there?” she had asked after a few minutes of silence.
“I’m here. I just came so hard!”
“Me, too! God, I love you!” she responded excitedly.
“I love you, too!” he said.
The two of them talked lovingly for a bit, then said their goodnights. Mark was looking forward to seeing Amber the next day. He tucked himself into bed and passed out with images of Amber on her knees dancing through his head.
It was almost a year later when Amber was walking down the sidewalk of the open-air shopping mall. She wanted to pick up a few things, but she wasn't exactly sure what she needed. The only solution for a problem like that was to walk around and see what she stumbled across.
As she made her way around trying to find her first stop, she thought about her husband. Mark was out of town for the next week on another one of his big business trips, and that meant another five days alone. She loved having him around, but every time he left her alone like this, she found her thoughts wandering back to that one trip the previous year.
Amber still loved Mark with all her heart, and she was still happy with their sex life. That weekend had been something different, though. The sex with Jack really had been incredible, but it was just a quick rendezvous. She often wondered what it would be like without Linda waiting impatiently for her husband to return. In addition to the physical pleasure of being with another man, the resulting conversations with Mark afterward had been so intensely erotic.
She had hoped that the thrill would continue when he got back from his trip, but it faded off very quickly. Mark had been really happy to see her, and the sex was incredible the night he got back, but he never brought it up again after that. She kept trying to hint at doing a date night with him and Jack, but he either missed the clues or had no desire to go through with it. Perhaps she had misread his interest when they were texting about it.
The sexual highs she had felt that weekend were like nothing she had ever experienced, and she was disappointed that she couldn't feel that way again. She would still be a loyal wife, but she would just have to be content with their vanilla relationship.
Amber decided she would buy something sexy to wear for Mark when he came home. Maybe that would stoke the flames of his desire. Once again, though, she found herself struggling with what to get him. She decided the best way to figure it out would be to go straight to the source. She grabbed her phone and shot a message off to him.
“Hey, baby, how is your trip so far?” she said.
“Thrilling,” he responded sarcastically. “I’m stuck in meetings until ten tonight. I can't wait for this day to be done!”
“I can't wait for this week to be done!” Amber replied. “I miss you so much!”
“I miss you too, baby. What are you up to today?”
“I’m out shopping,” she replied.
“Oh yeah? Are you picking up anything good?”
“I haven't decided yet,” she said. “Maybe I’ll get something to surprise you when you get home. What should I buy?”
“Hmm, how about a new pair of matching bra and panties?”
“You're so easy to please sometimes,” she typed, then giggled to herself. “Let me look around and see if I can find something you’ll like. Give me a few minutes.”
“Oh, I get pictures too? I like this game!”
Amber blushed, then looked around for the nearest lingerie store. Even after all of these years, she still got excited teasing him like this.
A half hour later, Amber had picked out a simple black bra and panty set. It wasn't overly sexy, but it was a great way to start and it showed off her tight little body quite nicely. She snapped a picture in the dressing room mirror, then sent it to Mark.
She was just finishing up at the cash register when she got his reply.
“Damn, you look so good. I wish I was there so I could kiss every inch of that beautiful body!”
“Glad you like it!” she replied as she stepped outside on the way to another store. “What do you want to see next?”
“How about a dress?” he asked.
Amber loved the way she looked in skin tight dresses, so this one would be fun. She glanced around and picked her destination, then hurried along.
A half hour later, she had picked the perfect dress for Mark. It was a mini dress with long sleeves and a high neckline. The body of the dress was a black lace over a beige inner lining, but the whole thing clung to her body like plastic wrap. It showed the full curves of her breasts as well as the round perfection of her ass. She smiled excitedly into the mirror as she snapped the picture, knowing that she was teasing her husband mercilessly when he wouldn't be able to see her for almost a week.
“That looks good, but you're pretty covered up in that one. I like it better when your cleavage is hanging out!” he said when he finally was able to answer.
Amber had just stepped into a store with tons of bathing suits, and she knew that would satiate his need for skin.
“Well, I can't go around exposed all the time,” she told him before she started looking through the various patterns.
“Yeah, but there’s no zipper to lower on that one,” he answered.
Amber stared at her phone perplexed for a minute before it suddenly dawned on her what he was saying.
The dress she had worn on her night out with Jack had a zipper running up and down the front. The whole idea of sleeping with him had started with Mark’s simple suggestion that she lower the zipper to show him a little more cleavage. As a result, Jack spent the whole night staring at her rack, which gave her the confidence to open herself up to his overtures. If it hadn't been for that zipper, she might never have experienced the incredible night of passion that had followed.
It was the first time since that trip that he had alluded to her liaison with Jack, and she wondered if she could inspire some fun thoughts in his head.
“Oh my god,” she replied. You remember that?”
“Do I remember you fucking Jack? It’s a little hard to forget.”
“You're making me blush!” she told him. “I’m working on picking out a bikini for you. Give me a few minutes.”
Amber grabbed a cute two-piece suit with some sort of wildlife pattern on it. It held her breasts up perfectly while showing off most of her body. She hurried to the fitting room and slipped it on, then snapped another picture for Mark. His reply was swift.
“That's much better. Now I can see more of you!”
Amber knew exactly what she wanted to say, but she hesitated for a moment. She wanted to be bold, and she wanted to keep Jack on his mind.
“That's all you get for now. Just a tease… like the one I gave Jack!” she texted, then went to the cashier to pay for her new swimsuit.
“If I remember correctly, Jack got much more than a tease that night!” he replied as she was just sliding into the driver’s seat of her car.
“I suppose you're right,” she said. “You should probably focus on that meeting of yours before you start to get too hard. Do you remember what happened last time you got yourself turned on thinking about me with another man?”
“I remember very well, but it's too late. I’m already having a lot of dirty thoughts.”
Amber smiled at her phone. It was working!
“Tell me something dirty, Mark. Please?” she pleaded.
“That night you went out with Jack, I jerked myself off four times.”
“Really?” she replied, honestly surprised. “Were you thinking about me being with him when you did it?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “Every single time. I know it's weird that I was thinking about you and another guy while I was touching myself, but I was so turned on. I’m sorry.”
“Don't be sorry!” she replied. “I’m glad you told me. I think it’s really hot!”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” she continued. “I love it that you think about me, even when you masturbate. Were you thinking about him fucking me?”
“Yes,” he replied plainly.
“Did you imagine me sucking his cock?”
“Yes.”
Amber smiled and squeezed her thighs together. She could already feel herself getting wet just thinking about all of this.
“Have you thought about it since you got home from that trip?”
“Every day,” Mark replied.
Amber felt her heart flutter. They had both been fantasizing about the same thing, but neither one of them had been brave enough to admit it.
“I wish you had told me that,” she said. “I think about it all the time. Maybe I’ll buy something to wear for Jack the next time I see him…”
“Amber! Oh my god!”
“Is that a no?” she replied hesitantly, worried that she had taken it too far.
“I didn't say that,” Mark replied, and she smiled to herself.
“Tell me what you want,” she pushed.
Her phone sat silent in her lap for several minutes. Amber was starting to wonder if she had scared him off when it dinged again.
“I want you to buy something for him, and just for him. Okay?”
“I will see what I can find!” Amber replied excitedly, then slid her phone into her purse.
She was about to get out of the car when another thought passed through her mind. She stopped herself and pulled her phone out one more time, then rolled through the contacts until she found Jack’s name. It wouldn't hurt to just say hello, right?
Mark got back to his room around ten. The meeting had let out a little early and several of the other executives were going out for drinks, but he found himself much too preoccupied to try and socialize. He bowed out, claiming a headache, then retreated to his room.
He quickly stripped off his clothes until he was down to his boxers, then slipped under the covers with his phone in hand. He hadn't heard from Amber since she had left to look for something to wear for Jack. They hadn't discussed when she would see him, but he hoped the three of them would be able to get together soon so he could see his wife have fun firsthand.
“Hey, baby, I’m finally back at my room,” he texted her as he snuggled up under the comforter.
“Hey, honey, I missed you!” she replied in her usual perky way.
“Sorry I was gone so long. I had to mingle a bit before I could take off.”
“That’s okay,” Amber replied. “I’ve been texting someone else to keep me entertained while I waited for you.”
There was something mischievous in the way she had said that, and Mark was sure she wanted him to pry.
“Oh, yeah? Who are you talking to?” he asked.
“Jack,” she replied.
Mark felt his stomach tighten again, but his cock stirred as well. It was the weirdest feeling to be both jealous of another man but completely turned on by that man flirting with his wife. He didn't know what to do with himself, but there was one thought that seemed to override them all: he wanted Amber to be naughty for him again.
“Really? What have you been talking about?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute, but first I want you to do me a favor. Stroke yourself for me while I tell you, okay?”
“I already am!” Mark replied, then returned his hand to his growing erection under the sheets.
“Oh yeah? What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“The last time you fucked him.”
“That's kind of funny,” Amber said in response. “We’ve been talking about the same thing. We’ve been flirting a lot, too.”
“What did he say?” Mark asked, wondering about his wife’s illicit conversations.
“How good it was. He asked me if I enjoyed it, too.”
“Did you?” he pressed.
“Of course, she replied. “He was amazing.”
“Have you thought about it since then?” he asked, firing back the same question she had asked him earlier.
“All the time. Just like you.”
Mark blushed as he realized how perfect this situation was. His wife was both loving and loyal, but she was also just as willing to have a little fun outside their marriage and share it with him. A relationship like that required a special connection, and he was happy that they could share it.
“What else did you talk about?” Mark continued.
“He told me he really wants to fuck me again.”
Mark choked on his own saliva. Amber was being both blunt and forward. It was as if she wanted to intentionally push his buttons and get him riled up.
“Do you want him to fuck you again?” he asked once he had recovered.
“Do I want to fuck Jack? Yes, but only if you want me to do it, too. Do you?”
“I think so,” he replied hesitantly, still unsure of how he felt about all of this.
“Well, I won't do it unless you say yes.”
“Okay,” he said, still holding back. “Have you sent him any pictures?”
“No, we’ve only been chatting on and off because Linda was hanging around him. She just went to bed, though. Should I send him one?”
“Well, it would be a great way to tease him,” Mark replied. “Do you have something sexy you can wear?”
“I think so. Hold on.”
Amber disappeared for several minutes. When Mark’s phone buzzed again, there was a picture waiting for him. It showed her perfect body, mostly naked except for a sexy bra and panty set. The fabric was a pink polka dot pattern against an off-white background. Small pink frills hung off the hip straps of her panties and the edges of the cups. It was exactly what he had wanted to see, a little sexy without being slutty. He had never seen his wife look sexier than in that picture.
“How about this one?” she asked him.
“That is amazing,” Mark answered her. “Is that new?”
“Yeah, I just bought it today while I was out.”
Mark suddenly remembered how their conversation earlier had ended, with Amber setting off in search of some lingerie to wear for Jack. She hadn't said anything afterward, so he had assumed that her search was a bust. Now he was rethinking that conclusion.
“Wait, who did you buy that for?” he asked, even though he was sure he knew the answer.
“Well, not for you,” she came back briskly.
“Did you buy that for Jack?”
“I don't know,” she said hesitantly. “I just know I didn't buy it for you.”
There was a harshness to her words, a relentless teasing. She knew she was torturing him a little, but not enough to make him upset.
“Fuck, Amber, you are killing me,” he said.
“I hope not. I want you hard, not dead!” she joked. “Do you want me to send that picture to Jack?”
“Well, you did buy the lingerie for him. You might as well show it to him.”
“Okay!” Amber answered excitedly. “I sent it. Are you still playing with yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Don't cum yet,” she commanded. “Maybe you can jerk off four times again tonight! Or was that just because I fucked him?”
“Jesus, Amber. Don't tease me like that.”
“Like what?” she answered innocently. “Making you think about me sucking Jack’s cock? Or about how hard I came on his dick that night?”
“You know how crazy you're making me, right?”
“While he was fucking me, I kept thinking of hot it was that he was cheating on Linda with me. I also thought about you, all alone in your hotel room, jerking off, hoping he was fucking the shit out of me and having no idea that at that exact moment, he was inside me. Did you picture me riding his big, hard cock? Did you cum when you imagined him unloaded inside me?”
“Every time,” Mark confessed.
“Does it turn you on that he wasn't wearing a condom? He came so deep inside me, I could feel it.”
“I’m sure he came a lot deeper than I do. He's a lot bigger than me.”
“Yes, but not just longer,” Amber continued mercilessly. “Thicker and harder too.”
“Fuck, baby, I need to cum! Please?” Mark begged.
“Not yet. I want you to wait an hour,” she replied cryptically.
“An hour!? Why so long?”
“Because Jack just messaged me and said he loved my picture. Linda is passed out on her sleep meds, and he asked if he could come over and see me, so I said yes. I want you to wait an hour so you’ll know he's fucking your wife while you're jerking off all alone. When you are done, you can jerk that thing all night, because I’m going to keep fucking him for as long as I can until he has to leave.”
The knot in Mark’s stomach tightened, and for a moment he couldn't breathe.
“You're going to let him fuck you all night in our bed? Amber, we didn't talk about this,” he fretted.
“I know,” she replied, “but you know you want me to, you're just too afraid to say it. Tell me. Tell me that you want another man to fuck your wife all night long in our bed. Say it.”
Mark thought long and hard about it, but she was right. He wanted her to do it, but there was one thing he wanted even more. He wanted to see it.
“I want you to fuck Jack in our bed, baby,” he confessed. “I want you to make him cum as many times as you can. There's just one thing I want in return, though. Will you take some pictures at some point? I want to see you with him. I want to see him inside you.”
“You're such a dirty man, baby. I fucking love it! I will see what I can do.”
“Now what happens?” Mark asked, struggling not to touch himself.
“Now I put down the phone and go shower and shave. I want to be nice and clean for Jack. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night, my love!”
Mark put his phone down and closed his eyes. An hour from now, he would finish himself off in just a few minutes thinking about the two of them together. For now, all he could do was wait.
For more of this story, check out Away on Business by Alex Skylar, only on Amazon.com!
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Jefferson/Reader - Part 4
Alright it’s finally here! Sorry for the wait lovelies!!
Word Count: 6911 (whew)
Warnings: Language
Part One, Part Two, Part Three
@musicalmoriarty @imagineham @butlinislin @daveedish @crazypurplebananas @insane-hamilton-imagines @imaginebeinghamiltrash @secretschuylersister @daveeddiggsit @diggs4life @drugsdiggs @ourforgottenboleros @notthrowingawaymyfood @small-stars @alexanderhamllton @midnightokieriete @til-the-world-turns-upside-down @love-doesnt-discriminate @hamiltryingmybest @icanneverbesatisfied @puns-and-fics @marquiis-de-la-baguette @sunriseovertheroomwhereithappens @jamiiton @fanfrickinhamiltasticimagines @tempfixeliza
After the eventful encounter you had with Jefferson in the library you weren’t exactly sure how what happened would affect his behavior in class and if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t exactly sure how to act towards him either. Luckily for you it seemed like Jefferson had taken the route of acting like nothing had happened at all and that suited you just fine. You did notice however if you happened to meet his eyes the corners of his mouth would ever so slightly turn upward. It was barely enough to notice but it made your pulse quicken, much to your annoyance.
“So when are you going to his house?” Angelica questioned as she slid next to you to eat lunch.
“I have no idea Ang. I haven’t gotten a single message from him about it,” you say as you push around your salad. It was already Thursday and you had heard nothing from him.
“That’s odd. The way you described what happened it seemed like he was really excited that you want to come over. Why the hell wouldn’t he text you?”
“Maybe because he is an ass and wants to watch me squirm?” You retort rolling your eyes.
“Oh come on (Y/N)! You gave him your number right?”
Your fork stalled halfway to your mouth as you had the realization that in the rush of the moment you hadn’t given him your number in return.
“Shit. No I didn’t. I left so quickly because I was late meeting you that I didn’t even realize.”
“Text him. You should text him now. He is probably sitting around waiting to hear from you,” Angelica pressed.
Angelica was laughing as you pulled your phone out of your bag. She couldn’t believe you had been so aggravated when Jefferson had no way to contact you. You quickly shot off a simple “Hey it’s (Y/N)”
Madison and Jefferson were sitting in a classroom working on their newest debate topics when his phone vibrated across the desk. Thomas glared at having his thoughts interrupted and grabbed the phone and looked to see who dared to try to bother him. James watched Thomas’s eyes widen as he stared at the small screen.
Unknown: 12:45pm - Hey it’s (Y/N) -
“What’s wrong Thomas?”
“It’s (Y/N),” Thomas muttered.
“I thought she wanted you dead after that day. I mean I know she stood up for you to Hercules, but why would she be texting you?”
“I gave her my number last weekend when I invited her to my house. I was going to text her, but I realized she left before I got her’s. I could never find her on her own to ask her for it.”
“You invited her to your house? How did this happen?”
“The short version: I ran into her in the library, I tried to talk to her, she yelled at me, I went to leave, she stopped me and apologized, and we ended up talking for over an hour,” Thomas spoke quickly as he added the number to his phone and texted back.
Thomas: 12:50pm -Hello.-
(Y/N): 12:51pm - I never gave you my number. Sorry about that.
Thomas: 12:52pm - I noticed that after you rushed out the door.
(Y/N) 12:53pm - Lol. So about that invitation to see those books?
Thomas: 12:53pm - Are you free Saturday afternoon?
(Y/N) stared at her phone. Saturday afternoon? Angelica was hovering waiting to hear what he said.
“Well? Did he invite you over?”
“He asked if I was free Saturday afternoon. What do I do Ang?”
“Tell him yes, of course!”
Thomas waited for (Y/N) to respond and was struck with a sense of nervousness about her silence. Maybe she had changed her mind about wanting to come over. He wouldn’t blame her for that. She had seemed suspicious when he invited her in the first place.
He picked up his pen and began writing again, focusing on the upcoming debate. Hamilton was not going to win this time. Hamilton didn’t stand a chance on this debate about French politics. James busied himself with a textbook and his laptop, researching current headlines. He watched as Thomas would glance at his phone often, hoping for a response. The phone finally buzzed and Thomas practically pounced on it.
“Desperate much?” James said amused.
“Shut up. She said she is free at 1 on Saturday,” Thomas said with a smile and he texted his address back.
“This is so exciting! I’ve wanted to know what his house looks like forever. You need to tell me every detail after you come home (Y/N)! You should wear that cute turquoise sun dress…” Angelica was beaming.
“Angelica stop. This isn’t a…HEY John! Alex!”
“Hey (Y/N) Alex and I were talking and we should all go out this Saturday. We haven’t been out to have drinks for a long time,” John said.
“Um. Actually I have plans this Saturday. Maybe another day?”
Alexander looked at you and noticed you seemed flustered about the fact that you had plans. He narrowed his eyes and smirked, “Got a hot date (Y/N)?”
“NO! I ah.. I have a meeting about…”
“An internship! She didn’t want to tell you until after the meeting,” Angelica jumped in.
“Wow! That’s great (Y/N)!” John practically shouted.
“Yep. It’s exciting. We will have to see how the meeting goes,” you bite out glaring at Angelica. Angelica’s only response was a small shrug.
Saturday came quickly and you were sitting in your pajamas with a bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Saturday morning cartoons were a ritual that begun your weekend. It was helping distract you from the nerves about going to Jefferson’s house today. You were going to be on guard. The last thing you were going to let him do was play with your emotions, his home or not.
The clock read 11:30 and you should be getting dressed so you could get to his house on time. Maybe I should show up late to make him nervous. You pushed around all the clothes hanging in the closet. What should you wear? Casual? Comfortable sweats? Something cute? Angelica had suggested you wear the turquoise sun dress. It did look good on you, it fit in all the right places, yet it was still casual enough.
“Why not? I’m going to be on his turf and he could be trying to yank me around. Let’s see how he reacts to this dress,” you say while holding the dress up in front of you.
You quickly put on the dress and pulled your hair up in a neat ponytail. You looked cute and casual. Perfect. The clock now read 12:30. You grabbed your purse and rushed to catch a cab to Jefferson’s house. You found your thoughts wandering to what his house must look like.
“He probably has magenta walls and gold chandeliers. The most extravagant furniture and appliances,” you mutter.
The cab pulled up to a smart looking townhouse. You threw the cabbie some money and slowly got out and examined the exterior of the home. It looked just as fancy as you imagined. Clean lines, perfectly groomed shrubs out front, the house itself was white with a brick walkway. Just as you had expected from someone such as Jefferson. It looked fancy and you could only imagine what the interior looked like. You took a deep breath and pressed the doorbell.
The door opened quickly and you looked up and Jefferson, he hadn’t moved from his spot and was staring. You smirked. So he liked this dress? I’ll have to remember that.
“Are you going to invite me in Jefferson?”
“Oh right. Sorry, please come in,” Jefferson said embarrassed.
You walked in and started looking around the entryway. There was a staircase that led upstairs on the left and hall that lead to what appeared to be some kind of small backyard. On the right there was a set of french doors that you assumed led to the living room. The walls were a slate color and the floor was aged oak.
“Wow. This is a nice place Jefferson. Did your parents insist you stay here instead of the dorms?” You half joke.
“Actually no, I fell in love with the house and I bought it. I was rooming with James before that. My parents didn’t approve, they said it was a waste since it needed repair. Come on I’ll show you the living room.”
He opened the french doors and you walked into the room and stopped in your tracks. It was nothing like you had expected. His furniture was sophisticated just as you expected, but your eyes roamed the exposed brick walls and antique beams on the ceiling. This was nothing like what you’d thought it would be. The brick was beautiful. You looked at Jefferson and he had a satisfied look on his face. You could tell he was proud of his home and how it was decorated.
“The original brick was still in good condition and I liked the character of it. You look surprised.”
“It’s not exactly what I had envisioned on my way over here. You have good taste, the brick is perfect. It balances out the snobby couch and rug,” You teased.
“Well I do have impeccable taste. It is no secret.”
You turned and saw the back wall of the living room was a floor to ceiling bookcase. It was stuffed full with books and papers.
“The other books are upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
As Jefferson ran up the stairs you made your way over to the bookcase. Every book on it looked well worn, like they had been read multiple times.
“Has he really read all of these,” you say to yourself.
You turn and look through the open floor plan that lead into the dining area and kitchen. Stainless steel appliances, dark wood cabinets, nothing looked out of place. Either he never used the kitchen or he cleaned it meticulously. There was an upright piano sitting against the wall parallel to the dining room table. You opened the key cover and slowly ran your fingers along the ivory. You smiled as you felt the smooth keys.
“Do you play?” Jefferson’s voice came from behind you.
“I…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be snooping around. It’s rude,” you stamper and quickly retreat away from the piano.
Jefferson led you over to the couch and sat down the vintage books on the coffee table.
“I have a lot more than that but these are a few favorites of mine. Count of Monte Cristo is my favorite,” Thomas said holding out the worn book.
“You really weren’t kidding. You have a library in your house,” you say looking at the book he had just handed you.
“I told you I love to read.”
Thomas watched (Y/N) carefully turn the book over in her hands and slowly open it. She flipped through the pages smiling off and on. Turquoise was really her color. He had been so distracted by her dress that he had almost forgotten to invite her in.
“Have you read all the books on that shelf?”
Her voice broke him from his thoughts. He looked at the shelf that took up the whole wall.
“Yeah, I’ve read most of them multiple times.”
A few hours past as you went back and forth with Jefferson on different books in his collection. He had pulled multiple books off the shelves and flipped through them to his favorite parts. Before long he had gone upstairs and grabbed another stack of vintage books for you to look at. You joked about different authors and the books you hated the most.
You followed him up the stairs the next time he went to go put the vintage books back. He led you into what you could describe as a study. There was a large desk and even more bookcases that were completely full. These books however were all antique and you could tell he kept them up here so nothing happened to them. You noticed quickly there were small knick knacks around the room. There were very little personal effects except for the books downstairs. You looked around and saw a framed picture of Jefferson with whom you assumed was his parents. There was a metal replica of the Eiffel Tower on the desk.
You both ended up sitting on the floor of this room looking through these older books. You completely lost track of time as you both read quietly.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?”
You looked at Jefferson startled, “Excuse me? What?”
“I said do you want to stay for dinner? It’s already 5 o'clock,” Jefferson offered.
“I didn’t realize what time it was. Thanks Jefferson, but I should head home.”
“Yeah of course. I’ll walk you out.” He looked disappointed.
You both slowly made your way downstairs. You grabbed your back from the couch where you had discarded it hours earlier. Jefferson opened the door for you as you left.
“Thanks for inviting me Jefferson. This was… nice.”
“Yeah it was…”
“We maybe could do this again sometime?” The words come out of your mouth so quickly that it surprised you.
“I’d like that,” he said with a small smile, “I’ll see you around (Y/N).”
You walked a bit down the street before hailing a cab and heading home. You drop your purse on the floor and look around your apartment. Dinner. As you rummage around the kitchen and put a frozen dinner into the microwave.
“Maybe I should of taken Jefferson up on his offer for dinner,” you complain as you watch the dinner turn in the microwave.
His house was a surprise. It was a mix of rustic details and sophistication. There was more books than you expected as well. He wasn’t lying about having a library. As you sat on the counter by the sink eating your food, you wondered what he was making for dinner. You found yourself smiling when you thought about how the afternoon went and wondered about the next time you spent time together. Maybe, just maybe he could be friend material.
It started out this way, hanging out every so often when you both had the nerve to text each other. He would invite you over to read books or set up a meeting in the library to work on homework together. You had both quickly come to the conclusion that it would be for the best if the fact that you were hanging out remained a secret. Luckily for you Angelica had agreed begrudgingly after getting a fully detailed description of Jefferson’s house.
Everything was running smoothly. You went to class, hung out with the boys in between lectures and at lunch, made plans with Jefferson every now and again, and it seemed like no one was the wiser. Before you knew it almost two months had passed and you were making plans with Jefferson practically every weekend.
You walking into the little coffee shop by campus and looked for Alexander. He wasn’t hard to spot, he was hunched over a stack of papers, furiously typing, and the circles under his eyes were so dark that it looked like he may have been punched in the face. John, Hercules, and Laf were all sitting at the table with expressions that ranged from mild annoyance to amusement. This is not how I planned to spend my Friday morning. There isn’t even class today.
“What the hell is going on? Some of us don’t actually have class today and want to relax,” you grumble before taking a drink of your coffee.
“Alexander is refusing to leave. According to the barista he has been here since 6 p.m. yesterday,” John groaned.
“This place is 24 hours. I can be here as long as I need to be! I’m a paying customer!” Alexander seethed without looking up from his computer.
All three men groaned at his response. Laf put his head down on the table muttering to himself in French. Hercules was being held back by John saying something about how he was going to take the laptop away and he would never see it again.
“Alex you need to take a break.”
“No (Y/N) I need to get this done. It’s important.”
“It’s not even due for another week and a half! I will take drastic measures Alexander Hamilton. I had to put on actual pants because of you on the a day where we don’t have class. You will take a fucking break!” You snarl and get lean down over to glare over the laptop screen.
Alexander looked up and let your glare with defiance, “I’m going to finish this and you can’t stop me.”
“You’re acting like a child! Fine…you asked for this,” you bite out.
The other men watched as you casually walked over to the wall and yanked the charger for his laptop out of the wall. You smirked as you hear Alexander say something about how his battery was about to die.
“Well I guess you better save your work then,” you say over your shoulder.
Hercules’s booming laugh cut through all the noise of Alex trying to frantically save his work and yelling at John for calling you in the first place. You roll your eyes and pull out your phone and scan through your contacts until you find Eliza.
“If you don’t calm the hell down and go home and get some rest… so help me God I’m calling Eliza!” You wave the phone at him so he could see that you already had her number in queue.
“You wouldn’t…”
“Pants Alexander! I had to put. On. Pants! I missed my favorite cartoons and I wasted a bowl of cereal. I sure as hell will call your girlfriend.”
“Come on roomie, let’s get you home,” Hercules said and he threw a wink your direction as he pulled Alexander along to the door.
You quickly drained the rest of your coffee and made your way to the door with Lafayette and John.
“I’m sorry about your cartoons and cereal (Y/N).”
“It’s okay John I’m not mad,” you laugh and pull them into a hug, “I’ve missed you both.”
“That internship sure keeps you busy doesn’t it?” John asked thoughtfully.
“Internship?” You looked at them confused.
“Oui. John said you had a meeting about an internship almost two months ago. Mon ami wasn’t it Angelica who told you?”
“An internship! She didn’t want to tell you until after the meeting,” Angelica jumped in.
A slow look of horror and realization crept across your face. You had completely forgotten that Angelica had covered for you meeting up with Jefferson and now they all thought you had an internship on the weekends. Oh shit… I need to fix this. You quickly opened your phone and shoot off a text to Angelica while keeping your eyes on the two men in front of you.
9:32 am: SOS CALL ME NOW.
“OH! That internship! Right, I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. It’s going really great,” you nervously chuckle.
“What do you they have you doing there?” Lafayette had a look of suspicion as he questioned you.
“Oh I do whatever they need me to. Run papers around, you know all those things other people don’t want to be bothered with.”
“You never told us where the internship was,” John seemed equally perplexed by your behavior.
Just when you were sure your pulse was reaching dangerous new heights your phone started to ring. Oh thank god! You answer it without even looking at the screen.
“Hey!”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
There was no way to hide the wide eyed look of terror that passed over your features when instead of of hearing Angelica’s voice you heard the gravelly barely awake voice of Jefferson. Holy shit… could this get any worse.
Thomas had been started awake by the distinct ringtone he had assigned (Y/N). She never texted him this early in the morning. His curiosity turned to concern when read the text she had sent.
(Y/N): 9:32 am: SOS CALL ME NOW.
He sat up quickly and rubbed his face and hit the call icon quickly.
“Hey!”
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Mom! Sure I have time to talk. What’s going on?”
Thomas slowly pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen with a raised eyebrow. Mom? As he pressed the phone back to his ear he heard you hurriedly tell John and Lafayette how she was sorry but she had to go because there was something important going on. Her hurried steps and quick breathes made it obvious that she had quite literally run away from her friends.
He pressed his forehead onto the back of his hand. He took a deep breathe to calm his nerves.
“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”
“God Jefferson I’m so sorry! I thought I texted Angelica,” (Y/N) rambled, “I woke you up didn’t I? Jesus… I can’t believe this!”
“Whoa… whoa. It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What happened?”
“I’m pretty sure I blew it. John and Laf asked me about the internship I had.”
“The internship Angelica told them you had to help cover you for the weekends?”
“Yes, thank you for having such a good memory Jefferson. I had completely forgotten about it. They asked me about it and I asked them what they were talking about! I tried to cover it up, but I’m pretty sure they could tell I was lying out my ass. So I had to figure out a way to get out of the conversation that wasn’t suspicious.”
(Y/N) was speaking so quickly Thomas was having a hard time understanding her. “You need to calm down.”
“You don’t understand Laf always can tell when I’m lying. You know I actually ran away from them as fast as I could? They are definitely going to bring this up later Jefferson. What am I going to say to fix this? We agreed that we would keep our friendship secret so it wouldn’t cause problems. Ugh!”
“Hey we already planned to meet up tomorrow so we can figure something out,” Jefferson tried to reason. This was starting to become more complicated than I had planned.
“Do you want to come to my place today?”
Her place? She had never mentioned where she lived or shown any interest in having him come over before. She said it so quietly he thought she might of not even meant to say it in the first place.
“Yeah I can do that. What time?”
“Huh? Oh… um usual time? Around 2?”
“See you then. Text me the address, okay?”
“Cool sounds good.”
Thomas stared at his phone for a few moments. (Y/N) had gone from full panic fueled ranting to then hastily inviting him over and then hanging up on him. “Bye?”
You practically kicked the door of your apartment open Gerard Butler in 300 style and flopped face first onto the couch. The throw pillow you hugged tightly muffled the frustrated scream that had been at the back of your throat since the moment you heard Jefferson’s voice on the other line of that phone call. Not only had you accidently texted him but in your anxiety ridden state you had now invited him to come to your apartment. Inviting him over was something you had been you had been contemplating for the last few weeks, but now he going to here roughly four hours. Why did your friends have to be so exhausting?
You looked around your apartment and assessed the situation. Panic was slowly setting in, you had four hours to clean the hurricane that was your apartment. The living room was a disaster of papers and text books, empty and half full coffee mugs, there was a large pile of unwashed laundry in the corner, you were pretty sure there was still cereal on the floor that need vacuuming, the sink still had three days worth of dishes in it, and on top of the clutter you still needed to shower. Three options popped into your head: 1. Shower first and then clean. 2. Clean and then hope you have enough time to shower. 3. Sit back down on the couch and wallow in your clutter until Jefferson arrived.
As tempting as option three was, the shower called your name, especially after basically sprinting home from the coffee shop. You could explain clutter if you didn’t get everything done, you didn’t want to have to explain smelling gross. After a few minutes of weighing your options you opt to take a longer shower than usual. The hot water helped ease some of the tension you were feeling. You stood under the cascade of water and thought about how your day started out so nice and had quickly nose dived into what you could almost wanted to compare to a horror movie.
“Why don’t you come over Jefferson? What was I thinking? I didn’t want him to come over here until I was sure I can trust him,” you angrily brushed your wet hair as you ranted at your reflection, “Don’t I trust him though? I mean he hasn’t given me any reason not to… I did call him my friend didn’t I?”
After thoroughly assaulting your hair and getting dressed you walked out into the living room. Glancing around and trying to form a plan of attack to get this place looking acceptable. You started gathering up all the coffee mugs and stacked them on the counter before starting on the dishes. Half way through the mess of plates and bowls you were once again arguing with yourself about the predicament you had gotten yourself into.
“Stupid fake internship! I should’ve just told them I didn’t get it or something. No then they would wonder what I was doing. I could just tell them the truth, but they would lose their minds after that whole debacle a few months ago… but why should I care? I’m allowed to hang out with whoever I damn well please. I don’t want to deal with Alexander and Hercules constant questions though,” you mused and turned slightly, your elbow hit something on the counter.
The sound of shattering glass filled the apartment and you just stared blankly at the two broken coffee mugs on the floor.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You scream and side step the mess to get the broom and mop out of the small closet by the front door.
An hour had passed and you had successfully done all the dishes, thrown all the dirty laundry in your closet out of site, and now all that was left was to figure out where you were going to put all the papers and books that were over your living room.
“Why am I even doing this? I don’t clean like this when the guys or Angelica come over. Why should I give Jefferson special treatment? He is going to be judgey about the place anyways. Compared to his house and what he’s used to I might as well live in a slum,” you huff before sitting on the couch.
Glancing around you started to judge the space you lived in. It was small, sure, it was an apartment after all. The couch was second hand, as was much of your furniture. It wasn’t in bad condition by any means but it was well worn. The only things you had brought with you from home was your desk which was an antique that belonged to your grandfather and your bed. The walls were a collage of posters and photos from over the years. The kitchen was just big enough to be functional and didn’t have enough cabinet space. There were two mismatched bookcases that were filled to the brim with all the books you had collected and other piles of papers stuffed on top of them.
“You know what… no. This place is going to look as clean as I can get it. If he comes in here and pulls the rich snob routine at least he won’t be able to say the place is a mess.”
Having to pick up all the stray papers gave you the opportunity to organize them slightly. You stacked as much as you could on the desk. The booked ended up haphazardly stacked up on the floor by the bookcases. A quick pass with the vacuum and the place was looking acceptable.
“At least I won’t have to worry about cleaning for a while,” you thought with a small smile.
Stretching out on the couch you glances around and looked at your phone. 1:20pm. You finished with a decent amount of time to spare. Clicking the TV on and putting on the food network you zoned out and waited for a knock at the door.
The sudden sensation of falling and hitting the floor jolted you awake. What the hell..I don’t remember falling asleep. The sound of knocking pulled you from your thoughts.
“Oh my fuck!” You shouted as you jumped off the floor and jammed your foot straight into the couch leg as you tried to run to the door. “Ouch! Son of a bitch!”
You hobbled angrily over to your door cursing the piece of furniture that had betrayed you.
Thomas stood outside the apartment door waiting patiently for the door to open. He had knocked several times, but no one had answered. Maybe she changed her mind. He knocked loudly again and heard a large thump followed by a string of profanity. He smirked slightly until he heard another thud and loudly shouted curses.
The door flung open so suddenly he actually jumped back slightly. (Y/N) stood there looked irritated.
“Uh… Hi?” Thomas said cautiously.
(Y/N) was rubbing her right foot against her left calf. He looked skeptical as she forced a smile and tensely invited him inside. He slowly made his way past her and looked around. It was modest to say the least. (Y/N) hobbled past him and rummaged in the freezer until she found a bag of frozen vegetables.
“What happened?”
“I rammed my food into my damn couch,” (Y/N) seethed as she made her way to sit down.
Thomas slowly looked around the small apartment. His brown eyes scanned over the mass of posters and pictures covering the walls and the mismatched furniture. He almost cringed when he looked in the kitchen. How does she cook anything in there? There is no counter space. As he moved into the living room he eyed the bookcases carefully. There were many of his favorite titles on the shelves. Those papers look like they could cause an avalanche at any minute. The television was on and it looked like she had been watching the Food Network. It didn’t take Thomas very long to realize (Y/N) was staring at him as he evaluated her living space.
“It’s really cozy,” Jefferson said carefully.
You narrow your eyes at Jefferson’s words. You hadn’t missed how his lips had turned into a frown as he looked at the kitchen and how he seemed wary of sitting down. Your irritation about the pain in your foot was quickly bubbling into anger at his predictable behavior.
“Right… cozy. Well we can’t all afford to buy up houses whenever we please Jefferson. I know, the place is beneath what you are used to so don’t try and humor me. I could tell by the look on your face while you looked around what you were really thinking. You can sit down, the couch isn’t going to fall apart.”
“It’s not ideal,” he said honestly, “but you’ve done what you can with the space. I think you could use another bookshelf before those collapse under the stress of all of that.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you roll your eyes.
Jefferson sunk down on the couch and looked at you thoughtfully, “So I guess we should come up with a plan to fix what happened earlier with Lafayette and Laurens?”
“Nope.”
“No? I thought the whole point of inviting me here was so we can come up with a solution,” Jefferson questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Nope. Right now we are going to sit here and I’m going to watch MasterChef. Then we can talk about a solution to the problem,” you say as you turn the volume up slightly.
“Don’t you think this is a little more important than MasterChef?”
“Jefferson let me tell you something; I missed my cartoons, I wasted my breakfast because of Alex, I almost had an anxiety attack twice in less than an hour this morning, I literally ran all the way home, cleaned my whole apartment, broke my favorite coffee mug, and then almost broke my foot trying to answer the door. Now we are going to sit here and watch Gordon Ramsey ruin people’s dreams and when I’m satisfied with that we can talk about what we are going to do about John and Laf,” you bite out throwing Jefferson a glare.
“Alright MasterChef it is,” Jefferson shrugged and relaxed into the couch.
The first two episodes went by in almost complete silence. Jefferson didn’t seem to know if he should say anything or just wait until you said something. By the third episode you were both sitting straight up and arguing with each other about which competitors were better and who you each thought would win. Jefferson gave you a smug laugh when the chef you liked was eliminated.
“Well I guess I have a better eye for quality cooking,” Jefferson rubbed in with a cocky smirk.
You leaned back and your arms crossed with a slight pout, “Yeah, whatever.” Asshole.
You couldn’t help but smile at how interested Jefferson was with the show. As the next episode started you realized that you had both been lounging on your couch for almost four hours. While he was engrossed in the show, you found yourself watching him instead of the television. His eyes watched the chefs carefully and he was leaned forward resting his chin on his hand. His dark brown curls were falling slightly into his face. How is it that his facial hair is so perfect all the time? I bet he spends more time in the bathroom getting ready than I do. You almost chuckle at the thought of that. He was wearing a blue button up shirt and the sleeves were rolled up over his elbows. So he does own a shirt that isn’t magenta after all. You would be lying to yourself at this point if you tried to say he wasn’t an attractive man. In fact he was one of the most handsome people you had ever met, not that he needed to know you thought that.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” The word left your mouth quickly.
Jefferson looked at you carefully and seemed to think it over. “Sure,” he said with a small smile.
“How does chicken and mashed potatoes sound?”
“Sounds good to me,” Jefferson said turning his attention back to the television.
As you moved into the kitchen you were thankful that you had put chicken in the fridge to defrost the night before. You pulled spices out of the small cabinet over the stove and got to work. With the stove preheated you threw the chicken in and set a timer. Jefferson had made his way over to the kitchen as you reached into a different cabinet and pulled out a package of instant potatoes and gravy.
“What the hell is that?” You heard Jefferson’s skeptical voice behind you.
“This? It’s potatoes. What? Don’t tell me you’ve never seen instant potatoes,” you laughed.
The look on his face when you turned around was a mix of horror and disgust. “You can’t be serious (Y/N). You eat this? It’s powdered.”
“It tasted just like normal potatoes. You are being ridiculous.”
Jefferson leaned over you and watched you pour the powder into the boiling water. His nose scrunched up as you stirred it and it became what appeared to be mashed potatoes.
“Will you get the hell out of here Jefferson or at least make yourself helpful and grab some plates out of that cupboard there,” you say gesturing over your shoulder.
As he came back with the plates you noticed his eyes seemed to be looking for something and he looked at you with a confused look. “You don’t have a table. Where are we supposed to eat?”
“Does it look like I have enough room for a dining room table? We are going to use the coffee table,” you state as you pulled the milk out of the fridge.
You served up the food on both plates and poured two glasses of milk before headed back to the living room. You sat on the end of the couch with your legs pulled up behind you. Jefferson opted to sit on the floor to be closer to the coffee table. You started to quickly dig in. It hadn’t occurred to you until now you hadn’t eaten lunch. Jefferson seemed to be pushing the potatoes around on the plate.
“Oh come on Jefferson you’re being a baby. Just try them, they aren’t that bad. I can’t believe you are scared of some harmless instant potatoes,” you tease.
“Je n'ai pas peur. Tais-toi!” (I’m not scared. Shut up!)
You laughed loudly as Jefferson finally started eating his food. He was never going to live this down. Ever. By the time the next episode of MasterChef was over you were both finished and your plates were abandoned on the coffee table. The arguments about which contestant was better had resumed. You wasted no time teasing Jefferson about how he had begrudgingly admitted the potatoes were actually not so bad. As the show ended he stood up and stretched his arms into the air and his shirt rode up just enough to show a small portion of skin of his stomach. You jumped up and grabbed the dishes to distract yourself from staring.
“So I was thinking I would just look up a company in town and if the guys bring it up again I’ll just tell them whichever one I choose,” you mutter as you put the dishes into the sink.
“You could tell them my family’s law firm if you want,” Jefferson commented walking up next to you with the cups.
“Oh yeah, that makes perfect sense. Do I need to remind you who my friends are? Telling them I’m willingly interning at your family’s firm would basically be the same as me waltzing up and telling them we are friends.” He didn’t miss your sarcasm as he leaned against your counter.
“That’s a good point. It’s a logical idea though, if they bring it up just tell them whatever you want. If they don’t bring it up then don’t worry about it. It’s getting late (Y/N), I should head home.”
Jefferson moved towards the door and thanked you for dinner. I should apologize to him for causing so much trouble. You walked over as he opened the door and grabbed onto his wrist. He slowly turned and looked over his shoulder at you. He had a curious glint in his eyes, he seemed hopeful for some reason.
“Thomas I… I owe you an apology for this morning. I didn’t mean to startle you with that text and I didn’t mean for our friendship to get complicated,” those words seemed to have more meaning than you initially intended. Things are getting more complicated and I’m not entirely sure that it’s just because of my friends.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he whispered.
“If I don’t have to apologize, then why does it seem like something is wrong?” You meet his brown eyes as you asked.
“You called me Thomas. You’ve never called me Thomas before.”
Your eyes widened at the realization, “No, I suppose I haven’t. Does it bother you? I can still call you Jefferson if you prefer.”
“NO! I mean…no. Thomas is fine,” he said quickly.
“I’m glad. Thanks for dealing with me today,” you say softly, “I’ll see you later yeah?”
A rare wide smile spread across his face. The kind of smile where the sides of his eyes crinkled. The kind of smile that every time you saw it, it made your breath catch slightly and your pulse speed up.
“Of course. Goodnight (Y/N).” He put his hands in his pockets as he walked away.
You slowly shut the door and leaned against it. You felt the familiar feeling of conflict rising within you. You rake your hands through your hair and yawn. Why did he have to smile like that? Why did he have to be sweet to you? He was still the same arrogant ass most of the time and since when had that trait almost become endearing?
“Things are definitely getting more complicated,” you complain as his smile drifted back into your head.
Fuck I’m so screwed. Was the last thought you had as you drifted off to sleep.
#thomas jefferson#thomas jefferson x reader#tjeffs#tjeff x reader#alexander hamilton#hamilton#james madison#marquis de lafayette#john laurens#hercules mulligan#angelica schuyler#x reader#fanfiction#college au
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Life of The Party
@alltimefanfiction contest entry, check out their page!
Summary; Jack meets a girl who won’t tell him her name. Her legacy follows All Time Low throughout their career.
Jack remembers meeting her vividly. Alex was throwing his first house party, seeing as his parents had finally gone away for the weekend. They were buzzing.
August 28th 2008 - 7pm
Armed with bags of the cheapest lager Jack could find, he kicked open Alex’s front door with a converse clad foot.
“Aleeee-“ His call was cut short by the sight of three girls dancing passionately in their underwear in front of the television. The lagers slipped from his arms and rolled across the floor at their feet.
They all laughed loudly, feminine cheeks lighting up in pink blushes as Jack stared, his mouth hung open in shock. Lisa chucked both girls a blanket from the back of the sofa to cover up with and ran off upstairs, “Alex is up here!”.
“Send his dumb ass down here.” Jack shouted back, his voice breaking to his utter embarrassment. Averting his eyes, he dropped to the floor to collect up the alcohol. The girl with the long dark hair and a full fringe wrapped a pink dressing gown round her waist and rushed to help him, goose pimples collecting on the bare skin of her arms as she piled the icy cans against her chest. Her carefree smile shocked him for a moment and Jack found himself looking at her for a moment too long. To this day, he is sure she was just pretending not to notice.
“Stella Artois.” She smirked as she put them back in the carrier bag, “My favourite.”.
Jack grinned at her, “If I’m honest, it’s just the cheapest I could find. I’m Jack, nice to meet you.”.
She jumped to her feet, her brown eyes sparkling, “You can call me Stella. I’m gonna go find Lisa, see you in a bit.”.
Then she was gone, pulling her blonde haired friend after her. Jack planted himself firmly on the cream carpet and sighed heavily, finding himself a little breathless. Alex came into the lounge, dressed in a loose button up shirt and tight jeans.
“You alright buddy?” He muttered, reaching out his hand to help his friend to his feet.
Jack ran a heavy hand through the blonde streak in his hair and nodded, “Yeah, who are Lisa’s friends?”.
“Oh, just Kayleigh and her mate, I don’t know her name.”.
“Right.”.
Heaving, he grabbed his best friend’s hand and pulled himself up.
“Stella.”.
10.45pm
It was reaching eleven pm and Zack and Rian were clapping either side of Jack as he chugged yet another Stella Artois. Laughing, he crushed the empty can in his fist and threw it to his feet.
“My turn!” a voice sang, causing all three boys to look round.
“Christ.” Rian breathed at the sight of her, collecting himself as Jack dug him sharply in the ribs. The mystery girl was stood before them in a black slim fit dress, fishnets and velvet heels. She could have been a piece of art in any of their eyes, but especially Jack’s. (And boy, did he wanna pin her against the wall like the art she was.)
“Stella!” he cheered casually, chucking her a lager.
She caught it in one hand and snickered devilishly, “Ahhh, so that’s what I have you calling me, I forgot.”. Making sure all three of them were watching, she opened her lips seductively and cracked open the drink. Within a minute her dark lipstick was smudged down her chin and she was throwing the can at Jack, a triumphant look on her face as they all gawped.
“Easy.”.
Zack nearly fainted at the sight of her bending down in front of the lanky guitarist and picking up his crushed can. Gently, she pulled his hand towards hers and placed the trash in his hand, “Alex is a nice guy, don’t go making a mess of his house.”.
“I’m over here more than I’m at my own house.” Jack hissed, a smile on his face, “Now, don’t go throwing up that alcohol on my best friend’s carpet Sweetheart.”.
Rian and Zack chuckled.
“I could outdrink you any day you skinny fuck!” Stella gasped, pushing his shoulder jokingly.
Jack lit up in amusement, “Oh, you’re on.”.
2am
“See, I want to move out of the city so I can see the stars properly.” Stella, as Jack had decided he would probably have to call her till at least the next morning, explained with a drunken slur, “Light pollution ruins the view.”.
They were laid out on the damp grass while the wild party continued indoors, staring up at the sky. To his absolute horror, Jack had lost the drinking contest and they had come outdoors so he wouldn’t puke on any of Alex’s parent’s stuff. After he’d thrown up into the bin twice, she’d pulled him down onto the ground and tried her best to point out the constellations among the cloudy night sky. It was not their lucky night.
“I’m a writer.” She murmured, “Because I could never be an astrologer. You’d get bored if you looked at the stars every day, and I don’t want them to stop being beautiful, yanno?”.
Jack nodded, “Definitely. But, I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of playing music.”.
He turned to look at her and suddenly she was kissing him. With the stars as their only witnesses, they kissed. His apprehension fell away and he wrapped an arm lazily around her neck, pulling them closer to each other. She tasted like Stella Artois.
11am
Jack woke up in the bath tub with a loud groan. His t-shirt was missing and he was sticky with alcohol and god knows what else. He stood up very slowly, his head pounding and vision blurring as he realised his whereabouts. As he got to his feet, a scrap of paper fell into the bath tub. With a groan, he read it to himself through squinting eyes.
Jack,
You’d get bored if you looked at the stars every day. Perhaps you’d get bored of me too. Become the star you’re dreaming of being, I’ll be watching out for you.
Sorry, I had to leave.
Stella xxx
Alex leaned round the door, looking worse for wear in his torn dress shirt and boxer shorts.
“She left this morning.” He spoke knowingly, “Lisa said she didn’t want you to know her name. Weird shit, huh?”.
Jack forced a smile, his heart aching, “Yeah, weird shit.”.
July 7th 2009 – All Time Low released ‘Nothing Personal’. The song Stella was a hit. Alex told everyone it was written about partying. Jack loved playing that song live. Zack and Rian don’t know why to this day.
Feels like I'm falling in love
When I'm falling to the bathroom floor
I remember how you tasted
I've had you so many times, let’s face it,
Feels like I'm falling in love alone
Stella, would you take me home?
Summer 2014 – There was a girl who looked like her in fishnets and velvet heels at a club. Of course, she wasn’t nearly as pretty and couldn’t drink nearly as much. Jack slept with her and left early the next morning, leaving a handwritten note on the bedside table as an apology. In a few months’ time, Don’t You Go was added to the Future Hearts track list. Jack hated playing that song live. Zack and Rian don’t know why to this day.
20th March 2015 – One Night in London with All Time Low. SSE Wembley Arena.
11.45pm
The boys rocked the show, of course. Alex and Rian invited a load of people to the afterparty, including a few stragglers who stayed behind after the show. Alex was pretty sure he recognised one of the girls. She stuttered and blurted that she was a writer and he might have read one of her books. Alex, considering himself a writer of sorts, be it song writing, invited her along with excitement. She was beaming.
12.30am
Jack bought fishbowl cocktails, lining them up down the kitchen of the tour bus and challenging people to a drinking contest. Wiping his hair from his face, Alex stepped up alongside Zack.
A daring voice spoke up from among a small group of people at the back of the bus, “I’ll do it.”. A girl walked confidently down the length of the bus and leaned against the counter next to Lisa.
Jack turned to look at her and his face fell in shock. Her once dark hair was bright pink and pulled up in a messy bun and she was dressed in comfy mom jeans and a printed tee-shirt, but he’d recognise those bright eyes anywhere. Jack grinned.
“What should I call you this time, Stella?” He asked as he pointed her over to a fishbowl of colourful cocktail.
She shrugged nonchalantly, “The Life of the Party.”.
Rian counted down from three and they started drinking. Within minutes, Alex had slipped and poured the entirety of the bowl’s content down his front, disqualifying him immediately. Bursting into laughter at Alex’s futile attempt, Jack choked and sprayed cocktail all over Zack and soon they turned to just chucking it over each other instead of finishing. Zack was about to tip the rest of his bowl over Jack’s head when she called out “Finished!”.
All three boys glared enviously at her empty bowl as Rian announced ‘Life of the Party’ as the winner. She lived up to her nicknames, every time. Jack’s heart swelled as she smiled over at him.
2am
“What are you doing in London of all places?” he asked, “Light pollution must be terrible.”.
“I’m a writer Jack.” She whispered dreamily, “I’m here for inspiration only. And anyway, I told you I’d watch out for you didn’t I?”.
She stood up from the ground in front of the tour bus and pointed at the sky, “Look, tonight’s our lucky night. There’s Ursa Major.”.
“Beautiful.” He murmured, standing next to her and staring at the group of bright stars.
“Boring.” She corrected him, “Just same old Ursa Major.”.
He shook his head at her and leaned down. With the constellations looking down on them, he kissed her goodbye.
“I’ll see you again.” He promised, “Stella, my life of the party.”.
She tasted like a mixture of alcohol, it made him feel alive.
February 13th 2016 – Jack dyed his hair red. “Blonde was getting boring” he said, “Same old Jack.”.
That night Alex and Jack stayed up all night writing a song. Alex knew they’d finally got it right when Jack cried singing it.
2nd June 2017 – Last Young Renegade was released by All Time Low. Life of the Party was a hit. Alex told everyone it was written about partying. Jack loves playing that song live. Zack and Rian are pretty damn sure they know why.
#all time low#ofc#all time low fanfiction#jack barakat#one shot#jack barakat fluff#band fanfiction#band imagines
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THE CAJUN DOCTOR by Sandra Hill: Release Spotlight & Excerpt
AVAILABLE TODAY
New York Times Bestselling Author Sandra Hill delivers another Tante Lulu Adventure as twin brothers leave Alaska to discover their Cajun roots
Dr. Daniel LeDeux and pilot Aaron LeDeux travel to the swampy bayous of Louisiana, where they discover a long-lost family. The usually stoic Daniel, a burned-out pediatric oncologist, is especially startled by the interfering LeDeux matriarch, Tante Lulu, bless her crazy heart, who wastes no time in setting him up with local rich girl Samantha Starr.
Scarred by a nasty divorce from a philandering New Orleans physician, Samantha has sworn off men, especially doctors. When Samantha’s step-brother gets into serious trouble, she must ask Daniel for help. But Samantha faces even more trouble when the handsome doctor casts his smoldering Cajun eyes her way.
The steamy heat of the bayou, along with the wacky matchmaking efforts of Tante Lulu, a herd of animal rescue rejects, including a depressed pot belly pig, and some world-class sexual fantasies create enough heat and humor to make both Daniel and Samantha realize that love and laughter can mend even the most broken heart.
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Excerpt
She smiled at him as he stood to follow her. There were no longer any tears in her eyes. Forget about sparkling emeralds, he decided then. Her eyes were murky green pools designed to lure a guy in and make him do things he didn’t even know he wanted to do. And he was the dumb trout who’d taken her bait. Hooked, lined and hot damn sinkered!
It was probably some Southern voodoo kind of crap. Maybe he should ask Tante Lulu for a spell to ward off Samantha’s allure. He could only imagine the old bat’s reaction. She’d be calling for a fais do do, a party down on the bayou, and the theme would be, “Daniel LeDeux Ain’t Gay, hallelejuah!”
But then he watched Samantha’s buttocks move in the red silky pants as she walked out of the room. Was there anything prettier than a heart-shaped ass on a woman? And he decided, maybe not. And those long limbs . . . man, what a creative male could do with those!
Hot damn hell! He decided he could live with the spell or whatever the hell it was, thank you very much!
Any lewd thoughts he might have been entertaining were interrupted abruptly by a loud pounding on the front door. They looked at each other in question.
He arched his brows.
She shrugged.
The dog halted in its tracks toward the kitchen.
The cougar cat stopped mid stretch.
The pig raised its head and sniffed the air.
Then they all erupted with their respective sounds of alert. Barking, growling, meowing, and oinking. A female squeak of dismay, as in, “Oh, Rhett, the Yankees are comin’!” A male grunt of disgust, as in “What next?” All of which alerted the bird to voice its opinion, and the puppies and other cats to join in the chorus.
More pounding on the door.
“Let’s just ignore it,” she whispered.
The German Shepherd let loose with a wild howl that could probably be heard a block away, definitely through a measly door. Then the old dog lay down on the floor, its muzzle between its front paws, all tired out from the effort.
“I doubt whoever is there will just go away. Let me handle it,” he offered, also in a whisper. I gotta get my Rhett on once in a while, he joked with himself. Then, he added, “Do you have a gun?”
“No. Damn, I knew I should have bought a gun. Just this evening I decided to ask Tante Lulu if she had an extra one. But I didn’t have a chance to call her yet.”
He gave her a glance of surprise; he hadn’t been serious.
That’s all he . . . she . . . needed. Southern belle with a pistol. She’d probably shoot her eye out. At the least, everyone up and down the bayou would know about it, thanks to the Mouth of the South.
Daniel was beginning to feel like Alice in Wonderland . . . or rather, Alex in Wonderland . . . and he’d fallen down some crazy-ass Southern rabbit hole. Forget Scarlett O’Hara. His Alice would be wearing some silky red short shorts. And high heels. And nothing on top. And “Pretty Woman” would be playing in the background.
He could hear Aaron laughing in his head. Twins were like that sometimes. They shared long-distance thoughts and feelings. In fact, some scientists claimed that even during sex . . . well, never mind! Suffice it to say, it gave new meaning to multiple orgasms.
To the Aaron in his head, Daniel said, Hey, it’s my fantasy. If I want bimbo Alice, I get bimbo Alice.
More Aaron laughter.
Daniel and Samantha walked softly toward the front door where Samantha peeked through the security hole and declared in a whisper, “I think it’s the mafia.”
“How can you tell?”
“Well, it’s not Nick. And there are two of them. And they look . . . mafia-ish.”
He pushed her aside to look for himself. What he saw was two men, their faces distorted through the fisheye lens in the peephole. They were scowling with impatience at their knocking not being answered. Definitely not Welcome Wagon, or Jehovah’s Witnesses, or a passing traveler in need of directions. No Gone with the Wind Yankees, either. The short one wore a tight “Sleep With the Fishes, Motherfucker” T-shirt over a muscular chest and bulging biceps; there were tattoos on his neck and forearms. The other dude . . . taller, but equally muscular. . . wore a T-shirt with the logo “Pit Bulls Rule” under an open denim shirt. There was a livid scar on his cheek that lifted one side of his mouth in a perpetual grin. The Mutt and Jeff of creeps!
Daniel could swear he saw the shine of a pistol under the denim shirt. He amended his assessment to “the Mutt and Jeff of dangerous creeps.”
Okay, definitely mafia-ish.
“Samantha Starr! You in dere, chère. We doan want no trouble here. Jist open the door, yes.” This from Mutt, the short one.
Okay, definitely Dixie Mafia-ish.
“Call 911,” Daniel advised Samantha.
She shook her head.
Daniel wasn’t convinced that her way was the best way, but there was no time to argue. He kicked off his shoes, toed off his socks, and used both hands to mess up his hair. He tugged out his T-shirt that had been tucked inside the waistband of his jeans. As an added touch, he undid the button on the fly of his pants and zipped down halfway.
“What are you doing?” she asked in an undertone.
“Pretending I was in bed.”
“Why would you be . . . oh!” Her cheeks bloomed with color.
He put a forefinger to his lips, signaling silence, then put the security chain on the door and opened it several inches. “Yeah? What do you guys want?” he snarled at the two figures on the doorstep.
Surprised, they backed up a step. They had to have seen him enter a short time ago, but apparently they hadn’t been expecting a man to answer the door, or him in particular, as evidenced by Mutt’s remark, “You ain’t Angus Starr.”
“No shit, Dick Tracey,” Daniel countered, starting to close the door.
But the taller, scar-faced dude, Jeff, stuck his booted foot into the opening. “Wait a fuckin’ minute. Where’s Samantha Starr? Bet she knows where that stupid-ass brother of hers is, guar-an-teed.”
“Angus isn’t her brother, exactly,” Daniel commented, as if that mattered. “He’s actually the son of one of her father’s—”
Scar-face made a growling noise.
“Why do you want Angus anyway?”
“None of yer damn bizness, you!” Mutt said, putting his hand inside his pants pocket, as if reaching for a weapon.
“Hold on. I’ll go get her,” Daniel said.
Stepping behind the door, he acted quickly. Messing Samantha’s hair into a sexy mess, he pressed her up against the wall and, before she could yell or kick him in the nuts, he leaned down to kiss her, hard and deep, even nipping at her bottom lip so that she would open for him.
Then he forgot why he’d made a move on her.
About Sandra Hill
Sandra Hill is a graduate of Penn State and worked for more than 10 years as a features writer and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Writing about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories. She is the wife of a stockbroker and the mother of four sons.
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THE CAJUN DOCTOR by Sandra Hill: Release Spotlight & Excerpt was originally published on The Sassy Bookster
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Unexpected Confessions
"Abel? Abel?"
Letting out a frustrated groan as knocks at my bedroom sounded, followed by the rattling of the doorknob. I had been locking my door recently, especially when I got all the information on my father, Jax Teller and SAMCRO, I didn't want Wendy to find it and start asking questions, it was more trouble than it was worth. Though she wasn't stupid at all, she knew something was wrong. I just had to get through this next week and then I could head to Charming. So when Wendy called my name for the third time, I rolled over onto my stomach before shouting through a mumble.
"What Wendy!"
It was a rhetorical question, at this point, I didn't care what she had to say.
"Why is your door locked?"
Letting out a frustrated sigh, as I shouted back.
"Sleeping!"
I knew I was horrible to her, and I wasn't completely sorry. If Wendy and Nero just told me the truth, then I wouldn't have to go sneaking behind their back. In a few short months, I would be twenty-one, I wasn't a child anymore, I didn't need protecting. I knew my mother, Tara and my father weren't angels, they were manipulative and impulsive people, who did a lot of bad things. I didn't need protecting anymore. Wendy was open and honest about her own demons with drugs twenty odd years ago and how she struggled to remain sober from it, before turning her life around completely. So I don't know why she covered up what Jax did and what really happened to Tara. I could see a lot that Nero wanted to tell me but something stopped him. I knew he cared for Gemma, that much was clear in the way he spoke of her, but he wouldn't go into details, and would easily fob me off. Thomas never wanted to know, he felt he didn't need to. He couldn't remember any of them, to him, they are just faces on old photos, and so he chose not to know anything more of his life before moving to Norco. As far as he was concerned, Wendy was his mother and this was his life. Anything before Norco just didn't exist.
"Okay, well..... I'm going to work... Thomas is on the farm, please don't stay there all day"
There was a hint of concern in her voice, but she didn't stay long enough for my answer as I heard her footsteps against the hard wooden floor, heading back down the hallway. Groaning as I buried my head into my pillow. I knew it seemed like I was being a spoiled brat, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't haunted by my past, and I was even more messed up reading over the files of the fallen members of SAMCRO. There were still some around, that were still living that would have known my father. There was this Alex Trager, Happy Lowman, Filip Telford and George Skogstrom. There were all MC members that were still living when my father killed himself and are still part of the MC now. Everyone else was either dead, or they were all new to the club.
Either way, since my father's downfall, everything had become quiet in Charming, there was no more attention bought to the MC, and they went under the radar. No member had been arrested since the year my father died. So I knew I had to go back and find one of those. They would know the truth, be able to fill in the blanks or even be able to tell me if the things I remembered were true, or if I had made them up. After fifteen years, it's hard to tell which are real and which aren't. I have been plagued by the memories and the nightmares for so long, that I didn't even know what was real anymore, for all I knew, it could all be figments of my imagination.
I tried to get myself back off to sleep, but I couldn't make my body relax enough. So I listened out for Wendy's car to leave before I pushed myself up from the bed. Papers went falling to the floor as I did so, and I slid off the bed to pick them up. Trying not to look at the photos, though I had done so a thousand times, I had read the reports, articles and newspapers a thousand times, but there were no new clues that could help me. It was like everything that happened back then was just a cover-up to save someone else's ass. Once all the papers were back in a neat pile, I pulled the trunk from under my bed and put them inside, before padlocking it shut, it had a combination lock, so there was no way anyone could get into it, well that was unless someone wanted to take bolt cutters to it, but then they would need to be desperate.
Pushing myself up from the floor, I pulled on a pair of jeans, and a white shirt before I unlocked the bedroom and slipped out into the hallway. Any money that Jax had left Wendy had long gone now, so she was working at the diner in the town centre of this farming town, it wasn't very big, and it was quiet. So there wasn't a lot of passing trade. Nero was trying to be noble, trying to fit into the life of a farmer. But in all honesty, I don't think he got over the death of his son, Lucious, ten years ago. Lucious had spina bifida, which was caused by his junkie mother not giving a damn about him while she carried him, much like Wendy had done with me. Nero knew that Lucious wouldn't live to see his thirteenth birthday, but he did, he lived to see his fourteenth before he passed away. Nero was never the same again. But Lucious died here, on the farm, in a peaceful life, away from the chaos of gangs and motorcycle clubs. Nero had become withdrawn when he lost his son, he spent more time out of the farmhouse than in. He seemed to age a lot in the ten years that followed, Lucious' room was still made up, in the same way in which he left it. I would find Nero in that room often, he was just the shell of the man I once knew.
Unlocking the door and stepping out into the hallway, I headed down the stairs and pulled on my trainers. I needed to talk to Thomas. In a week he would be leaving for Chicago. He didn't know what I was planning to do once I dropped him off at the station. I tried to keep that to myself. I was unsure if he would approve or not. Shoving my hands in my pockets as I made my way outside and across the field, to the short distance to the stables. Thomas was inside grooming his favourite horse, for some reason he called it 'Tara', which was weird, or maybe I was the only one who thought it was weird. But it meant something to him, so I tried not to judge. She was an all black mare. So as I leaned against the stall door watching my younger brother groom his horse, I just watched him for a moment. He seemed a lot happier than I was. Maybe because he didn't remember the horrors in which we were thrown into at such a young age. I had gotten lost in my thoughts when I heard my name
"Abel, how long you been stood there?"
I looked up and over at Thomas with a half-hearted smile, his hair had gone dark brown, just like Tara's, his eyes were a deepened chocolate brown. I was the complete opposite, taking after Jax, with the mousy blonde hair and blue eyes. Unsure just yet if that was a blessing or a curse
"Long enough brother"
He let out a laugh and continued to brush his horse
"Didn't expect you to come out of your room, you been hibernating for a week now"
Kicking a bit of hay absentmindedly as he spoke.
"What can I say, Tommy, been wallowing in self-pity that you are going to be leaving me"
I allowed a smirk to spread across my lips as I looked at him, my hands remained firmly in my pockets as he scoffed a laugh.
"Don't lay that shit on me, you could have left a long time ago"
He was right, I could have, but I didn't. Despite my need for answers, I couldn't abandon him. I made a promise a long time ago that I would protect him. Not that he needed it, but it was something I couldn't back away from.
"You are right, but I didn't want you missing me"
I let out a sigh but held my smile.
"So what will you do when I'm gone?"
He looked at me inquisitively, I didn't want to lie to him, but on this occasion, I would need to.
"Oh I don't know, travel, see the world maybe, there won't be anything here for me when you go."
He dropped the brush and walked over to me, I tilted my head at him a little, at the concerned look on his face.
"What about Mom? And Nero? They would still need you"
I hated that he called her mom, she wasn't his mother, she would never be anyone's mother.
"Wendy...."
I put a lot of empathising on her name.
"Will be fine, so will Nero, we don't need to worry about them."
Both were getting older, they could survive on the peace and quiet that the farm would bring.
"Besides, I am not even deciding on anything right now"
Lies clearly. Thomas let out a sigh and shook his head.
"You need to be nicer to her, Abel, she has been doing her best for you"
My shoulders shrugged.
"Maybe it was too late Tommy, the damage was done"
I moved a hand and patted him on the shoulder, I really didn't want to talk about her.
"I guess I just miss Tara, okay? She was there when I had a 20% chance of living, she was the one who got me through everything, Wendy didn't want to know until afterwards when she had no choice. I miss Tara, Thomas"
I bit the inside of my cheek, it was the truth, Wendy could never match up to what I remembered of Tara, she was the one who was firmly imprinted in my mind, and if she hadn't have died, then she would still be around and Wendy would be long gone. Taking a breath as Thomas unexpectantly hugged me, I wrapped my arms around my little brother, who in fact wasn't so little anymore, when he whispered.
"I miss her too"
That was the first time I ever heard Thomas say that about Tara, he would usually just shrug and say he didn't remember her, so as I pulled back I saw the single tear run down his cheek, as he turned away quickly to get rid of it.
"Thomas?"
My tone was of concern, as he sniffled.
"Umm....yeah?"
He had gone back to his horse, but I watched him closely.
"What do you remember of her? Of Tara?"
He looked over at me, this was the first time I had ever seen him break over our mother, and I just couldn't stand hearing the pain in his tone
"Nothing, I remember nothing"
I gulped back the lump in my throat as I hesitantly stepped forward.
"And that bothers me, Abel, I remember nothing of the mother you speak so highly of, so I try not to think of her at all, but I want to carry on her legacy, finish what she didn't finish"
He pressed his lips together as he tried to smile and my heart broke for him, he needed answers, just like I did.
"I don't remember dad either, but I hate him, and I'm glad he is dead and I don't remember"
I didn't see that coming, I was shocked. for fifteen years he never spoke of either of them, he kept saying 'he doesn't remember' and it was left at that, but now, with a week before he leaves, he spills his feelings in this way.
"Why? Why do you hate him?"
He looked at me, his nose wrinkled up in a scowl
"Really Abel? He killed people, he killed himself. He didn't care about us, he was a selfish bastard, why should I give a shit about him?"
I didn't realise just how much his words would affect me, but they cut like a knife. He was right, Jax was a thoughtless coward. But when he was alive, he was my hero, he was the one who was strong for me when no one else could be. I guess I held a small candle for my father, even if it was an unspoken gesture. Taking a deep breath I only nodded to Thomas.
"Yeah, I guess"
My shoulders shrugged, I wasn't going to argue with him. Not now, there was no point. He was the only person I could truly talk to. So as I turned to walk away from him, his voice stopped me.
"I know what you are planning Abel, and I really hope you will change your mind"
I looked over my shoulder at him.
"I don't know what you mean Tommy."
I gave him a smile before walking off, so I didn't give him the chance to say the words out loud. I knew if Thomas mentioned that I wanted to return to Charming, then the guilt would stop me from going. I needed the silence. I didn't need the words to be unspoken. I knew once they were. I would open myself up to changing my mind. So as I left the stables, I headed back towards the farmhouse without another word.
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Golden State InfoWarriors: Among The Conspiracy Theorists At Oracle Arena
Conspiracy.
You'd think that a fan-base with a barely two-year-old NBA championship to its name, a bevy of superstars and a commanding series lead coming into the game wouldn't feel victimized.
But goodness me, I heard that word a lot around the Bay Area in the days before the NBA Finals came back to Oakland on Monday night. Conspiracy. Rigging. Money trumping everything. The innocent Bay, unspoiled by cynicism or avarice and blessedly untouched by the disgusting hand of the oligarchs of the world, was sure that their Warriors were going to lose Game 5. The global forces of capital demanded another game, and another game's worth of television revenues. It was the blameless, hard-working Warriors, like Steve Kerr (averaging a salary of $5 million a year) and Kevin Durant (guaranteed more than $54,000,000 between this year and next year), who would pay the price.
This was the hum I heard in the Stella Artois club at Oracle Arena, where people were poured $13 Bud Lites and were charged $120 for a jersey. The conversation in the air was one of fear, but not the usual "man we're gonna get roughed up by the refs" fear of a team that did not want to slog through another series against LeBron James. Rich, powerful men were convinced that they were about to be robbed. This was chili-tilted, Alex Jones-level muttering, a fan base humming with paranoia about—if stopping just short of accusing—the globalists cruelly using their influence to change the fate of the $1.6 billion Golden State Warriors, who make around $168 million a year. Or at least push the series to a sixth game, anyway.
Moneyballs
It's time for some game theory.
My friend Colin is a ticket hound, and regularly gets into games for a few hundred dollars that would usually cost thousands. He does this by gaming the system using a series of apps to play the same digital mind-games that touts play with fans. As he'd told me many times before, the system usually worked on the prospect of driving up pricing right until tip-off. Usually, the ticket hoarders drive up their prices to varying levels of obscenity—over $2,000 for one lower-level seat where you can vaguely make out an ass, but not a specific ass, up to $5,432 (which I heard referred to as "a hell of a deal) for a courtside club seat near the hoop, where you could specifically identify any number of sports-asses, but not really see the game so well.
The bottom line, I quickly understood, was that I would need to put aside my preconceived sense of the value of a sports ticket. It is obscene, almost insulting to the suffering communities of the Bay Area that aren't San Francisco, just to see these numbers discussed. It is easy to imagine a way this could all be a lot less gross; there are an infinite number of better uses for Ticketmaster gouge-fees than being funneled back into the Ticketmaster machine, and the Warriors have a great deal more leverage on this than they appear willing to use. Anyway, the conversation among the people who had been gouged on those fees for this game was about referee rigging.
Would you pay $10,000 for a chance to sit near motivational speaker Tony Robbins? Photo by Kelley L Cox-USA TODAY Sports
The Uber For Touting
Usually, if you watch the right apps, you can see the moment when ticket-holders start shitting their pants. Sometime just before the game, people that bought tickets in advance with the intention of making a profit will realize that they are screwed. Prices are meant to drop, but they didn't on Monday.
Before the game, Colin showed me Row 10, eight rows behind me, at $3,400 a seat with taxes and fees. That was more than I'd paid; the seat directly in front of me was selling, or not selling, for $5,102.50. My favorite, and my dude if you are reading this I hope you're a season ticket holder doing Tout Irony, was by the 115 section corner on the Warriors' side, which listed $10,800 for a couple of seats. God bless this hopeful seller. This was less than a pair of $9,000 on-the-floor "VIP" seats, which offered a view both of the game and of Chris Rock and other celebrities checking their phones.
At 5:30 PM PT, there were still lots of expensive seats available.
At 6 p.m. I was ready for some football—"uh, this is basketball," the man in front of me told me sternly when I made this joke out loud—and tickets were either withdrawn, unsold, or left at the same price. Just before tipoff a lucky buyer could have gotten a steal (?) of a deal on a $3,965 front-row dead center Cavs-side ticket, or scored one for $3,108 for the same on the Warriors' side. The disparity was not an accident; people wanted to be on "the right side" of the arena despite there being precious few Cavaliers fans in the actual house.
I kept watch for the hour or so in which you can still buy tickets through the Gametime app as the game begins, as well as the Warriors' featured "you can upgrade your current seat using our app for $100-$1000 a ticket" app (which allows you to do so from 4PM to 30 minutes after tip-off.) At 15 minutes in there were still at least 25 seats on sale, all of them priced to the purest obscenity. I was delighted to see that the $10k "why am I sitting here" corner seats disappeared around then. I hope they sold to the biggest, dumbest startup idiot alive. I'm not even going to comment on the $22,954 courtside club seat far off in the bottom corner of the Cavs' side.
Prices just kept on rising, with a few disappearing and more appearing, then at about 6:45 PM the wheels came off of the market. Tickets dropped off rapidly, some withdrawn and some sold; you could see as they'd flash yellow if they were sold (which was much rarer), and those were mostly fairly (in context) higher-level 200's seats of people saying "hey, $800 ain't bad to see the Warriors win." I watched as the $5,232 seat quite literally in front of me (102, row 1), the $8,260 corner Courtside Club seat—by the by, the demarcation between courtside and sideline club is different seat and stair color, and you can get drink service—and the $2,238 section 108 (close enough to say with some certainty "that's Steph Curry's ass!" but not the action) seats sat inert. Colin himself remarked that it was weird.
By 7:01 PM all that remained were two staunch, sad seats—lower baseline ($1,127 for a view of some yellow and reddish ants) and $1,400 (217, row 17, a better view, off to the left). They never sold.
At game time, several expensive seats remained unsold. Photo by Cary Edmondson-USA TODAY Sports
Infowarriors
During the game, I went out to grab a beer and was confronted by some sort of touch-screen beer thing. You'd slide a card, you'd choose a beer, and then the thing would dispense the beer. A woman grabbed me by the arm and yelled that I'd "LITERALLY [emphasis hers] ignored the ENTIRE line." The line was long, to be fair, but I had misunderstood the process. The process was that you had to line up behind 50 people in order to get a punch card, in order to buy beers from a totally automated machine.
Take a look y'all:
Look at this crazy beer tech! Photo by author
The people in this line were mumbling about "biased" refs, too. "It's bullshit," said one guy in line at the bar as he gulped down a beer that he'd finish before he got to the machine that would sell him another beer. "They let us get this far so they could make money, now it'll go to Game 7, because they want to make money." I asked how he thought they'd do this, what system was in place, and he looked at me and said "look, man, they've got cameras everywhere. They know when to call shit." I still don't know what this means.
Near my seat I chatted with a guy who'd had season tickets since the 1990's, and who also shared the conspiracy. "Three phantom calls!" he bellowed in the first minute when the Warriors were called for fouls like "he touched him" or "shoe was too squeaky, distraction on the play."
"It's crooked," he grunted at me as the refs failed to call LeBron for the foul of "scoring points on The Warriors."
Of course this isn't unusual in sports, and Warriors fans are no less petty than any team claiming the referee's a wanker, or wants the other side to win. But they were not quite talking about the refs, or not just talking about the refs. They kept saying it was about the NBA wanting to rig this for an extra game. Perhaps it was more that the Warriors kept trying to do flashy triple-passes or were being outshot from three by a percentage of 36.8% to the Cavs' 45.8%. Or maybe a belief somehow persists that the NBA is just hurting for cash, and must conspire to make more. Like all conspiracy theories, the truth said out loud is absurd—the fans I asked said they "beat the shit" out of the Cavs the first three games, but Game 4 was "stolen." This one was "rigged" too. If someone glanced harshly at Steph Curry, someone in our section would cry foul.
When David West and Tristan Thompson got angry after Kyrie Irving yelled (I think) "Westworld fuckin' sucked!" a fight began. The woman behind me, in the same tone that I've heard really nasty shit said, yelled "THEY'RE FUCKIN' ANIMALS," and "OUR BOYS ARE CLASSY."
Snoop Dogg and Stephen A. Smith shake hands prior to Game 5 because sure why not? Photo by Kyle Terada-USA TODAY Sports
Conspiracy or not, the Warriors carried a lead over an exhausted opponent. My nephew and I could see the tiredness in LeBron's eyes—he had conviction, and some evident fury at his team's failures, but he mostly skipped the Warriors' truculent, endless complaining. The Warriors played whimsical and fancified at times; they seemed almost to be having too much fun.
Yet people kept saying there was a conspiracy. "Refs are in the pocket of the NBA" came from the top of the stands. "It's fuckin'RIGGED," they yelled at every foul, even with a 10-point lead and the Cavaliers approaching exhaustion. Whenever they missed a shot, a man in his late fifties, on his own, would throw the bird and yell "FUCK YOU LEBRON" at the Cavs bench. No matter the Warriors lead, there remained a cacophony of queasy dipshittery.
Yet it really was a great game. Both teams played all out until the end, but the dominance the Warriors hold over the NBA is brutal and stunning to behold. It's simple and stunning how powerless every opponent was when it came to preventing Durant from doing what he wanted; Curry's speed and vision seemed supernatural. If there was coaching happening on either side, I didn't see it. I just saw two teams locked in a game that, however imbalanced, was incredibly entertaining.
In those last 58 seconds, I could still hear chatter behind me about how "we're lucky to have won, 'cause the refs wanted seven games. The NBA just wants our money, man." Twenty seconds remained and one guy yelled "FUCK, WHAT WAS THAT?" for some reason. If you were wondering who was booing when Adam Silver was introduced to hand Durant the Bill Russell NBA Finals Most Valuable Player Award, wonder no more.
My brother and his girlfriend later confirmed that things were no different in their seats. People were wailing about the conspiracy against the Warriors despite a dominant performance. "It doesn't matter we're leading, they're just gonna take it from us," with they being the NBA. The Warriors fans—and I suppose I should add that I'm a Warriors fan, and that I live in Oakland—were worse than just sore winners. They were tantrum-throwing children, seething over their expensive toys.
Hearing "NEVERTHELESS, THEY PERSISTED" as the Warriors led by 10 to 14 points was inarguably my second-worst moment of the game. The next was when the announcer said "and thanks to the players of the Cleveland Cavaliers" and the arena erupted in boos. Sure, it's normal sports bullshit, the human nature of us versus them. But after crying that the NBA was beating up your multi-million superteam and then giving Cleveland hell isn't just unsportsmanlike, it just felt pathetic.
It also felt like the Bay, circa now. What happens if the Warriors decline, as they eventually must? Will it be a conspiracy, then? Will it be bad coaching, then? Will Steve Kerr Have To Go despite two championships in three years? There are a lot of wins ahead for this team, but it's hard to imagine that there are enough for the people I saw fuming through this victory. We don't just have a tech bubble. We've got a Warriors bubble. And when it bursts, it'll be painful.
Golden State InfoWarriors: Among The Conspiracy Theorists At Oracle Arena published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv
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