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hey-there-juliet · 3 years

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llora por una rosa, dijo el ruiseñor

➤ Written for Day One of Jukebox Appreciation Week: Canonverse @jukebox-week

Summary: Dr Turner said that there was no such thing as a schedule for grief and that everyone dealt with it in their own way, so it was okay if some days were worse than others. Although it helped to have a cute ghost to cuddle with. (Read it on AO3)

Notes: Thank you so much @sunsetcurbed and @felicitysmoaksx for betaing this for me! You guys are amazing, and any remaining mistakes are my own.

Title: El ruiseñor y la rosa, by Oscar Wilde. | Song: A La Nanita Nana, from The Cheetah Girls 2.

Enjoy ♡

llora por una rosa, dijo el ruiseñor

Sometimes, Julie would wake up feeling like her world had turned on its axis as the pain of losing her mother hit her all over again. Dr Turner said it was normal, that there was no such thing as a schedule for grief and that everyone dealt with it in their own way, so it was okay if some days were worse than others.

The problem was that every 'worse' day seemed to get worse.

Reality came crashing down on her on a Thursday morning with absolutely no warning. She still hadn't figured out what triggered the bad days, but she was pretty sure they were intrinsically connected to the good ones.

Ever since the ghosts of three teenagers from the '90s fell into her life, Julie had been having (mostly) good days. Sometimes it all felt like a too vivid daydream, a fantasy she'd come up with to escape her painful reality. Ghosts, the band, music back in her life, stronger than ever, curses and playing the Orpheum; it was crazy. So crazy that it might as well be true.

Five days after the Orpheum, after being able to touch the guys, Julie woke up with the realization that her mom would never meet them. She would never be there for Julie to tell her about how much Reggie enjoyed spending time with her dad. Or how cute Alex looked with his pink-tinted cheeks as he spoke about Willie and museums. Her mom would never be there for Julie to tell her about Luke's passion for music, about his endless energy and encouragement, about his perfect smile and ever-changing eyes and how it felt to finally, finally be able to wrap her arms around him. Her mom would've loved Luke. She would've loved all of them.

Only minutes after Julie turned off her last alarm, her dad knocked on her door, brows furrowed in concern when he peered into the room only to find her still in bed, eyes puffy and red, nose stuffed up and burrowed in her covers.

"Oh, mija," he sighed, making his way into the room. He sat down next to her, and Julie dragged herself into her father's arms, unable to hold back the sobs that were begging to be let out.

"I miss her," she gasped between cries, burying the words into her dad's shoulder.

"Me too, cariño. Me too." He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Your mom would be so proud of you, Julie. Wherever she is, I know she’ll be watching over you and Carlos and cheering you on like she always did.”

Julie nodded, thinking about the three boys who had literally dropped into her life. Her dad had no idea how right he was.

“Why don’t we take the day off? I’ll call the school and empty my schedule.”

“No, no,” she protested, leaning away and wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sleep t-shirt. “Don’t miss out on work because of me, I’ll be alright. I think I’d just like to be alone today.”

He didn’t seem really convinced, raising an eyebrow in her direction and lowering his head to meet her eyes directly. “You sure?”

“I’m sure, Papi.” Julie sent him the most reassuring smile she could manage, which must have been good enough because he soon relented and pushed himself up.

“I’ll bring you something today after work, how about that?”

She frowned, unable to stop the lighthearted smile from forming on her lips. “Like what?”

Her dad shrugged, stepping backwards toward the door. “I don’t know, something cool. A surprise.”

Julie chuckled, but agreed, “Okay.”

“Don’t stay in bed all day. And eat something.”

“I won’t, and I will. Thanks, Papi.” She threw him a soft smile.

“Te quiero, mija.”

“I love you, too.” With a last worried glance in her direction, her dad stepped out and closed her bedroom door, taking all of Julie’s lightheartedness with him.

Like a dark cloud descended over her, Julie’s mood crashed again. Left alone with her thoughts, she couldn’t keep herself from imagining if anything would’ve been different had her mom still been there. Would Julie even have told her about the boys? After all, she still hadn’t told her dad, and now with her being able to touch the guys, it could be just a matter of time before they became visible to her family.

One thing she knew for sure it’s that she definitely would have never stopped playing, and maybe she wouldn’t have immediately kicked Luke, Reggie and Alex out. And maybe, without needing to earn back her spot in the music program, she never would’ve played with Sunset Curve in the first place. That was a terrifying thought, but she’d like to think that they would’ve found their way to Julie and the Phantoms eventually anyway, and her mom would be cheering for them every step of the way.

Julie sighed, dropping back down into her pillows and burying herself into her covers again. With one hand, she reached over her nightstand for a picture of her mom and her. It wasn’t her favorite one — that one was in her dresser, — but it was definitely a close second. Rose was sitting on the couch with a five-year-old Julie on her lap, fresh out of the shower and rolled up in her towels like a burrito. They’d been watching something on TV when her dad captured the moment. Years later, Julie had no idea what they were watching, but what she did know was that there were several pictures of that day because that was when her parents found out they were having Carlos and so her dad wanted to have the whole day on record.

With a soft laugh at the memory of her mom and dad telling her that story, Julie traced her mother’s smiling face in the photograph, lightly humming her favorite lullaby that Rose used to sing to her.

Julie was startled out of her thoughts by a sudden knock. She dropped the picture down on the bed, body tensing up since her dad and Carlos had left minutes ago, until she remembered they weren’t actually the only residents at the Molina household anymore. She rolled her eyes before calling the knocker in.

Luke’s beanie covered head phased through the door. He had a bright grin on his lips and a bounce on his step as he made his way inside, stopping by the foot of her bed.

“Skipping school? Damn, Jules, I didn’t know you had it in you,” he said, apparently before getting a good look at her and immediately frowning in concern. “What is it, what’s wrong?” Luke came closer, kneeling by the side of her bed and resting his chin at the corner of her mattress.

Julie took a moment to take him in; the way his bottom lip stuck out just a little in a pout, and how his hands fiddled with her sheets, his eyes focused and intense, filled with worry and never leaving hers. She had to look away. “Nothing, I’m just- I’m just missing my mom today, that's all.”

“Oh.” His voice was low, barely a whisper, and it drew Julie’s eyes back to him. This time, he was the one staring down at her bed. He crossed his arms over the mattress and rested his chin on them, only sticking a hand out to tap lightly on the picture that rested between them. “Is this her?”

She looked down at the picture again, tracing the frame with her fingers. “Yeah, that’s mom.”

“You look like her.”

Raising her eyes to meet his again, Julie couldn’t help the soft smile at the sincerity she found in his face. “Yeah? Thanks.”

They were silent for a moment, both lost in thought. Julie was sure that Luke’s mind had gone to his own mom. She knew he still visited his parents, and sometimes she honestly couldn’t say what would be worse: to never be able to see or speak with her parents again, or to see them and talk to them, only to receive no response and have them look right through you.

“Scooch over.” Luke’s voice brought her out of her thoughts abruptly, and Julie could only blink at him in confusion as he got up and started toeing his shoes off.

“What?”

“Move over,” he shooed her with his hands, and Julie was a little too shocked to protest when he grabbed a corner of her blankets and crawled into bed next to her.

For a whole minute, Luke fumbled around, fixing the pillows behind him however he wanted and covering himself with her blankets except for the one leg sticking out of the side. Finally, he opened one arm in invitation and threw her an expectant look.

Julie could do nothing but look at him in bewilderment, on the edge of freaking out about having a boy (a boy she had a big, fat crush on, no less) on her bed. Before she could let herself spiral into nervous laughter, Julie shook her head with a chuckle, and moved closer, fitting herself into his side with the picture of her mom in her lap. She was unable to contain the sigh of relief at actually being able to feel him there — the boys’ solid-state was still new, and she was always afraid that it would suddenly go away.

Luke shuffled around a little more, getting both of them comfortable before tapping the picture in her lap again. “Tell me about her.”

With her brain still struggling to catch up, all she could manage was a “Huh?”

“Well, you got to meet my mom, but since I can’t meet yours, I figured the next best thing is that you tell me about her.”

Julie looked at him then, soft eyes meeting hers, and she felt her breath catch, the familiar butterflies fluttered their wings in her stomach. She couldn’t quite put a name to what she was feeling, she just knew that she had never felt something like it before.

She gave him a smile, and turned forward again, leaning her head on his shoulder to look down at the picture in her lap. There were a million things she could tell Luke about her mother, but the decision was made for her once she caught sight of the dahlias on the cushions next to her mom in the picture.

“My mom loved flowers. All kinds, and plants, and she would make the most beautiful flower crowns you’ve ever seen. Anytime we went to the park, she’d find these pretty, wildflowers and make crowns for me and my friends. Carrie and I used to say we were fairy princesses,” Julie chuckled, losing herself in vague memories of two little girls chasing each other around the swings while her mom sat on the ground nearby, weaving flowers together. Luke laughed softly with her at the image she painted. “Her favorite were dahlias, though. Mom absolutely loved them, they’re everywhere in the house.”

“Dahlias,” he said, and Julie glanced at him over her shoulder to find him lost in his own thoughts. “My mom likes those too.” He sent her a sad smile before motioning for her to go ahead.

“Uh… She loved sparkly things. Every time an outfit wasn’t quite what she wanted, she’d just… bedazzle the hell out of it.” Julie laughed, happy tears forming in her eyes. She sniffed. In the back of her mind, she remembered the latest bedazzled creation of her mom’s she’d found — the Sunset Curve shirt, and made a mental note to ask the guys about it later.

“She, uh, she didn’t like sugar on her tea, but she had the biggest sweet tooth. She loved breakfast for dinner, especially pancakes. She was a great dancer, she’s the one who taught me how to salsa, 'cause dad’s a little useless in that department.” Using the sleeve of her shirt, Julie wiped away the few stray tears that had fallen down her cheeks. If Luke was bothered by her crying, he didn’t say anything.

“She used to leave notes all over the house. Sometimes reminders about Carlos’ games, or where dad had put his keys, but other times just little encouraging messages like 'you got this' and ‘I love you’...” Julie’s voice trailed off, remembering the last note her mom ever left for her at the end of Wake Up; You can do it, Julie. Love, mom.

The few tears multiplied. She sniffed again.

“She sounds amazing,” Luke said softly, brushing his cheek over her hair and using the arm he had around her to reach for her hand.

“She was,” Julie agreed, distracting herself by playing with the rings on his fingers. He was such a rockstar. She chuckled, tilting her head to the side just a little but not looking away from his hand as she traced the calluses on his fingertips. “When she was younger, she was actually in a band. A couple of bands, even.”

Julie felt Luke tense up in excitement, and she imagined he was having a hard time actually staying still.

“Really?” he asked, and she heard the awe in his voice just like the first time he said her mother was a really talented writer.

“Oh, yeah. They never made it big, but… they sounded pretty good. And mom was an amazing singer and writer, and the way she shredded on the piano?” Julie shook her head, no words would ever be able to describe the admiration she had for her mom and her talent.

“Kinda like you, then?” His tone was teasing, but Julie could hear the sincerity in it plain as day, and couldn’t help but tilt her head up to throw him a thankful look.

“She taught me everything. The first song I learned on the piano was the lullaby she used to sing to me. Every night, she sang Carlos and I to sleep, and my dad too, if he happened to be sitting down,” she told him, and they laughed at the image of her dad being lulled to sleep.

As their chuckles faded out, they lapsed into silence. Using Luke’s knuckles as keyboards, Julie practiced the lullaby she hadn’t heard in years. She kind of wished she could go back in time and tell twelve-year-old Julie that she would never be too old to be lulled asleep by her mom’s voice.

A few moments later, Luke’s voice broke the silence. “Will you sing for me?”

“What?” she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

“The first song you learned, the lullaby. Will you sing it for me?” he asked again, voice just barely above a whisper, drawing her eyes back toward him, like a siren luring a fisherman into the sea.

For a second or two, Julie got lost in his ocean eyes — the late morning sun that was shining through her open curtains making them look bright blue. Then she cleared her throat, taking the moment to remember some of the lyrics. Julie’s Spanish was never as good as her parents’, but the words for this song she knew by heart.

“A la nanita nana, nanita ella, nanita ella,” her voice started out low and slowly built up to the song’s rhythm. Julie didn’t look at him, but she could feel Luke’s warm gaze fixed on her. “Mi niña tiene sueño, bendito sea, bendito sea.” She repeated the first two lines, letting her volume rise just a little. The song felt like an overdue embrace from her mom, and Julie let herself get lost in the memories it brought.

She felt Luke’s fingers tapping against her own hand, and could imagine almost perfectly how the melody would sound coming from his guitar. A part of her wondered why it felt so natural to share this with him, but she also knew that if it wasn’t for Luke, Stand Tall would probably still be sitting unfinished inside her Dreambox. Music flowed through him the same way it did through her, and the same way it had flowed through her mom. It felt right to share this with him too.

Ascending to a major key, Julie started the next verse effortlessly. “Fuentecita que corre, clara y sonora. Ruiseñor que en la selva, cantando y llora. Calla mientras la cuna, se balancea. A la nanita nana, nanita ella...”

Julie sat up a little, leaning her shoulder against Luke’s and finally turning to meet his eyes. The look on his face… she couldn’t describe it, but her heart understood it anyway. Without looking away from him, she continued. “A la nanita nana, nanita ella, nanita ella. Mi niña tiene sueño, bendito sea, bendito sea.” Before Julie could start the last verse, Luke started to hum, following the song’s rhythm as if he’d heard it several times before. His fingers were still tapping against her wrist, and she couldn’t help sending him a small smile before continuing.

“Fuentecita que corre clara y sonora. Ruiseñor que en la selva, cantando y llora. Calla mientras la cuna, se balancea. A la nanita nana...” she sang, then drew a deep breath and closed her eyes, remembering her mom’s kind and smiling face. Dragging out the last couple of notes, Julie finished the song, a single tear making its way down her cheek. “... nanita ella.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or even charged. It was peaceful and comfortable, and Julie could have basked in it for a long time, but she couldn’t say she was surprised when Luke ended the peace quite soon.

She felt his hand leaving hers and wiping away the tear from her cheek just as her eyes fluttered open, meeting his awed eyes and impossibly soft smile.

“That was beautiful, Jules.”

She smiled, accepting the compliment with a nod before settling back down against him. Julie burrowed her face against his neck, the lullaby from her childhood had left her feeling light and sleepy.

Luke seemed to have gotten the message because he shuffled around a little more before settling down too. Julie didn’t know if the boys could sleep now; they couldn’t before, but after everything that had happened post-Orpheum, to ask whether they could sleep or not wasn’t exactly high on her priority list.

She felt his fingers lightly run down her braided hair, soothing her further into sleep. Just before she could doze off completely, Luke spoke again.

“You know, you never told me her name.”

Julie yawned, wrapping an arm around his middle and pulling herself closer into his side as she answered. “Rose. Her name was Rose.”

She didn’t see Luke’s frown, or notice the way he looked down at the picture that had fallen from her lap and into his with a dawning sense of realization. All Julie knew was that she felt safe, and loved, and that wherever she was, her mom was still watching over her.

After all, she'd sent her Luke.

#jukeboxweek #fanfic #jatp fic #fic recs #juke #omg they were soulmates #julie and the phantoms #jatp #mine #luke patterson #julie molina #julie x luke

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viaravt · 3 years

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I drew another pic from another adorable Jon & Martin scene on the RP discord server where I play Martin and @superqueerdanver plays Jon. I probably put way too much time into this one (Like 3+ days worth of drawing, coloring, & shading) but oh well lol

Below the pic is the scene (edited a little so that it's easier to read & understand)

Please click the pic for better quality! And reblogs are always better than likes <3

Jon sits nervously on a park bench, holding a bouquet of green carnations. He texts Martin, hoping he isn't busy. After just a few minutes of waiting, Martin strolls down the main path, his face brightening when he sees Jon. He heads over with a wave. "Hey! You, um, you wanted to see me?

Jon stands up and holds out the flowers, blushing. "I read once that gay men used to give each other green carnations, and Oscar Wilde liked them, and I'm not technically gay, or exactly a man, but..."

Martin takes the flowers, gazing at them in awe. "Jonnn, that's really sweet! You didn't have to..." He cradles them delicately, like they are something very precious. "I don't think anyone's ever given me flowers before, let alone ones so meaningful... Thank you." He begins blushing too

"I... um... you're welcome. And they should! You're really... you deserve... nice things," Jon replies, thinking sarcastically to himself, 'so eloquent.' Why can't he get his words right? With the flowers out of his hands, he fidgets with his cane, running his fingers over the sticker on the handle.

Martin shifts the bouquet to one hand and suddenly hugs Jon very tightly. He holds onto him, hoping that Jon doesn't notice him sniffling slightly. Jon hugs him back, grateful for the chance to hide his face.

Martin slowly pulls away, rubbing quickly at his eyes with his sleeve. "Would you... Wanna take a walk?" he holds out his free hand for Jon to take. Jo nods, quickly wipes his hand on his trousers, then takes Martin's hand.

"There's, um. Some other flowers in there too," Jon informs Martin. upon closer inspection, the bouquet also contains apple blossoms and purple lilacs. "Apple blossoms mean preference, and..." he looks down, blushing more. "Purple lilacs mean new love. At least according to one source I found. There are so many websites about flower symbolism, and so many of them contradict each other, and I don't know how to fact-check that sort of thing, and..." he trails off.

Martin examines the bouquet because he's not sure he can look at Jon without crying again. When Jon explains the lilacs, he squeezes his hand, grinning in a way that Michael would be jealous of. "How are you so thoughtful?" he asks, only half joking. Jon's not sure he can put a sentence together to answer that, so he just squeezes Martin's hand back.

Martin smells the bouquet and thinks about what he has that he can use for a vase when he gets them home. He sets a leisurely pace as he walks down the path. Holding Jon's hand. In public. Oh no he's blushing and grinning like a fool again and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

"I'm, ah. I'm glad you like them," Jon says shyly.

"Of course! I mean, how could I not?" He finally feels like looking at Jon won't make him explode into a flurry of glitter and hearts, so he does so. "When did you have time to do this?"

Jon smiles back. "I ordered them online during lunch, and then I left early to pick them up."

Martin's jaw drops. "You left early? To do something sweet for me?"

"I do leave work sometimes, it's not that unusual," Jon replies. Except it is, of course... He swings Martin's hand a little as they enjoy a walk together through the park.

[End]

If anyone wants to join the server where this scene took place, I think the only canon characters that are claimed are Jon, Martin, Elias, Michael (Distortion), and Rosie. We all have fun OCs as well. We're not super canon-strict, but we're roughly somewhere in season 2. It's a minor-friendly server, so no sexual content allowed and there is a list of things that need to be spoilered with trigger warnings, but everyone is really nice and fun to play with! If you want to join, send me a DM and I can send you an invite.

If you want to RP with me personally, feel free to DM me as well. I'm open to all kinds of scenes. I'm not a minor and don't really have any triggers, so pretty much anything goes <3

[ID: It's a digitally drawn and colored picture of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood from The Magnus Archives podcast. Jon a short, skinny, non-binary person with dark skin, dark hair with grey streaks, and wearing a green button down shirt and grey slacks. He is wearing square rimmed glasses and using a cane with a bisexual flag sticker on the handle and he is blushing. Martin is a taller and heavier-set man with fair skin and freckles, auburn hair, and is wearing a red long sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He is wearing round-rimmed glasses and is holding his hands over his mouth in awe at the bouquet of flowers that Jon is handing to him. There are tears in his eyes. The bouquet has primarily green carnations but also has purple lilacs and light pink apple blossoms. End ID]

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youllneverknowrac · 4 years

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Oscar Diaz- Double Trouble

Idk, I honestly just wrote lol. This is what I came up with so enjoy! ❤️ PS:Probably has loads of more mistakes that usual since I didn’t go back and read over it.

“Are you hungry baby?” You ask your-too mature for her age- four year old daughter, the two of you laying out in the backyard on individual beach towels and in matching swimwear. Her kiddie pool a few feet away and being ignored.

“Yes I am.” Rosalie says and looks up from her picture book, using her arm to push up the sparkly blue sun glasses that previously covered her eyes,”Are you hungry mommy?”

“Starving.” You whine as you flip over to your back, your mini-me copying your actions as she tosses the book to the side,”But I don’t feel like cooking. Do you think daddy would go buy us something?”

“We can ask him.” She suggest as she crosses her hands behind her head to rest on them,”Or maybe I should ask him mommy, he always buys me McDonald’s when I ask.”

“Okay that’s good. You can ask him, but no McDonald’s. We can do better than that.”

“Hm what about Carl’s Jr.? You love their fries and I love their chicken stars.”

“I do love them...hm okay, Carl’s Jr it is.” You say as you sit up and stretch your arms out,”Let’s go find him.”

“Hopefully he doesn’t make us go with him.” Your daughter giggles as she stands to her feet and picks up her towel, you doing the same,”I want to watch Barbie Dream House and do not have time to sit in the drive thru while daddy plays his loud music.”

“I’m on the same boat as you.” You nod as the pair of you head inside to find Oscar sitting on the couch, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Daddy?” Your daughter whisper shouts as she throws the towel on to the couch before climbing in his lap and gabbing at his cheeks to shake his head lightly.

“One second baby.” He replies before quickly pressing a kiss to the top of her head and ushering her off.

“Ugh, please hurry. I have to talk to you, it’s super duper important.” She groans as she climbs off his lap,”Come on mommy let’s go get cleaned up so we can get in our pjs.” She says and grabs her towel once again before disappearing into your bedroom, probably so she could bathe in your bathroom instead of hers.

“Yeah please hurry.” You say quietly as you walk by him, Oscar reacting quickly and pulling you down for a quick kiss. His large hand grabbing at your ass before you pull back and offer him a playful wink,”Don’t you need to finish up that call?” You ask before spinning around on your feet and joining your daughter, the pillow he tries to toss at you hitting the wall.

“He’s always on that phone.” She complains when she takes notice of you entering the bathroom,”He’s probably talking to Tio Cesar like always.” She adds as she pours her bubbles to the water she had running in the tub. You quickly check the temperature as you smirk at her comments, she was definitely your kid.

“I’m sure he’ll be done soon.” You reassure her before you go to the shower and run your own water,”I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab our clothes.”

“Okay mommy, the Moana dress please.” She smiles as she begins to take off her swimsuit.

“You got it.” You say before going to your closet first and grabbing one of Oscar’s shirts along with a pair of boy shorts. When you head out back to the hall you pick up the loan pillow and chuck it back before scurrying off to the over the top pink bedroom, Oscar’s laugh reaching your ears. You find her desired outfit and rejoin her just as she’s turning off the water and stepping in,”Found it.” You sing as you set out the clothes on the counter.

“Thanks mommy.” She says as she plays with a nearly scalped bratz doll.

“You’re welcome.” You reply and get nude before stepping into the shower, the hot water running over you as steam fills up behind the curtain. You’re standing there for a few minutes before Oscar comes busting through the door with a scream.

“Meanie.” Your daughter insults him after she let out a yelp of her own, a small laugh escaping your lips as you peek your head out.

“Was that necessary?”

“No it wasn’t.” She answers for him with a pout.

“I’m just having fun with my girls.” He laughs as he sits on the edge of the tub,”What are you making for dinner ma?” He asks aloud as he picks up the tall cup and fills it with the bath water, your daughter splashing her way over to him.

“Nuh uh.” She tells him with a shake of her head before letting Oscar pour the water over her dark curls,”Mommy’s not cooking today.” She gasps out dramatically as she pushes the now wet hair out of her face.

“What do you mean she’s not cooking? What is she talking about? You’re not cooking for us mami?” Oscar questions as he repeats the action with the cup.

“Well I didn’t feel like it. Being outside all day got me tired and I...” you speak as you rinse off the peach scented soap, your daughter cutting you off mid sentence.

“And she wants to watch Barbie with me in the bed. So we need you to go to Carl’s Jr. for us. Okay daddy? You can even get yourself something to eat if you want. Maybe pick up some candy from the store too, ya know what I like by now.”

“Yeah what she said.” You snort out

“What if I don’t want to? Did you ever think about that?” Oscar says in a teasing voice as he makes a face at Rosalie.

“Oh don’t worry then.” She sasses as she uses the bubbles to lather up her hair, you’ll just have to wash her hair properly in the morning,”Cause what you won’t do another man sure will.”

“Hmh, and don’t you forget it papi.” You laugh loudly as you turn the shower off and stick your hand out for your robe that hung nearby.

“You need to stop listening to you mom cause you’re turning into Y/N number two.” He says with a smirk as he stands up,”Y’all ain’t gonna get away with ganging up on me all the time, but I’m gonna go. Because I don’t like to see my baby’s hungry, I’ll be right...”

“Daddy?” Your daughter interrupts as she rinses out her hair quickly,”Don’t forget the ketchup.”

“Mija how about a thank you daddy, or a I love you daddy.” Oscar chuckles as he glances over at you as you step out, the smaller robe now in your hand,”When did y’all get robes and why don’t I have one? You know what it doesn’t matter, I’ll be back in twenty.”

“You know I love you silly, duh.” She giggles as she hops out of the tub and slides her robe on,”Kiss for the road.” She cheers as she holds her arms up to be picked up.

“See you can be my sweet little princess when you want.” Oscar grins as he wraps her in a bear hug and kisses her nose, your daughter returning the act of affection before being set down again.

“Sweet little princess don’t end up running the castle daddy.” She huffs as she saunters over and climbs on the counter so you could do her hair like you did every night.

“Sorry you have to deal with two of us.” You whisper as you grip the front of his shirt and look up at him with wide doe eyes,”Do I still get a kiss for the road?”

“I can give you more than that when I get back.” He says with a lick of his lips before pressing his mouth to yours.

You laugh as you push him away a few seconds later,”Drive safe and don’t forget our candy.” You remind him as you slam the bathroom door shut, Oscar grumbling about two spoiled brats as he heads out of the bedroom.

“Love you!” You and Rosalie call out loudly so he could hear.

“Love you more!” He shouts back just as the front door closes.

“Butter them up from time to time so they stick around.” You daughter giggles as you come up behind her and began to spray her hair with the leave in conditioner.

“Works like a charm.” You say and give her a quick high five before getting back to the task at hand. Her very wet and knotted hair.

“Daddy no, I want to sleep next to you.” Your daughter pouts as she hides under the blankets a while after Oscar returned and the three of you pigged out in the bed.

“I thought you were a big girl now.” Oscar says as he looks over at your sleepy state.

“I am, but mommy’s a big girl too and she sleeps with you still.” She protest as she pops her head out,”Please.”

“Well I’m not gonna start telling you no now, especially when you gave such a valid point.” He says in defeat as he climbs back in the bed, Rosalie snuggling into your back as you lay in the middle.

“I love you daddy. Thank you for the candy and chicken stars. You’re the best, you know that?” She mumbles, her little hand moving to rest on top of his that laid on your waist.

“I love you baby, I got you forever.” He says as your eyes flutter open, a small lazy smile forming on your face,”You too, now go back to sleep.” He whispers, your eyes slowly closing once again as you fall into peaceful darkness.

“See you in the morning daddy.” Rosalie yawns,”Can we make waffles and bacon? Well you, I’m still to little to reach the stove.” She reminds him

“Of course, did mommy want you to ask me anything else?” Oscar smirks knowingly

“Iced coffee in the morning please. And a chocolate milk for me.” She admits as she crawls over you so she could lay in between,”This is better.”

“You two are the worst together.” He teases as his arms lays over the two of y’all.

“But we love you the mostest. And you love us the mostest? That’s why you do it, right daddy?” She smiles as she rest her forehead against his.

“Of course mi corazon. I’ll always love you guys the ‘mostest.’”He chuckles as he stares into her eyes, getting even more wrapped around her tiny fingers, just like you already had him wrapped around yours. Oscar definitely couldn’t say no to his two favorite girls.

#spooky diaz #spooky x reader #netflix on my block #on my block imagines #netflix #freeridge #omb #on my block season 3 #one shot #omb season 3 #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz

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natasharomanoffismywife · 4 years

Text

First Time (Florence Pugh x Y/n)

back to masterlist

Tag list: @natasha-danvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @disneykid125 @summergeezburr @nowthisisliving27 @sighsam

word count: 1,414

warnings: smut, gxg oral, fingering

“Have you got your phone on loud?” I ask for the 100th time as I nervously tap my fingers against the duvet, Florence takes my fidgety hand into her warm one halting my tapping.

“Yes I have baby, don’t get so worked up over this. I doubt I will get nominated anyway” Florence tells me flippantly, trying not to get her hopes up. I send her a stern look for her self deprecation, she has never believed in her self as much as she should.

I go to respond but the shrill ring of her mobile breaks through the tense silence that had encased the bedroom, my blonde girlfriend looks at me with wide eyes as her hands start to shake. I grab the phone and pass it to her, with a soft kiss to her hand that still held onto mine giving her a small nod to indicate that she needs to answer the phone.

“Hello, Florence speaking” the blonde actress manages to croak out, her voice wobbling as she speaks into the phone. I cross my fingers imaginatively as I try to gage how the call is going by Florence’s facial expressions, she has never been able to hide her feelings from crossing over onto her expressions. “Oh my god really??!!! Thank you so much!! Ok bye!” Florence screams out with a smile, she ends the call and turns to look at me with a huge bright smile.

“Did you get it?” I ask out unable to take the silence any longer, she nods out before opening her arms so I could tackle her.

“Yes! I am now Florence Pugh ‘Academy Award Nominee for best supporting actress’ I did it Y/n!” She exclaims out making me break out in a face splitting grin, I jump on top of my super talented girlfriend and I start to pepper her face with kisses making her squeal out in delight.

“Oh my god Flo! I’m so proud of you babe” I exclaim, pushing my love down onto the bed, straddling her as her hands come to lay onto my hips. All the fun drains from the room instead getting replaced with a layer of desire, we hadn’t taken that step in our relationship yet since I was still a virgin and Florence didn’t want to push me into anything.

That was one of the main reasons why I fell in love with the blonde, she always let me dictate the pace of our relationship never once pushing me or pressuring me to do something I wasn’t ready for. As I glance down at my lovable, caring partner I notice the way her eyes have darkened ever so slightly, her breathing slowly becoming erratic as her hands stay still on my hips.

I lean down to press a kiss to her lips, savouring the taste that is uniquely Florence once I slip my tongue into her awaiting mouth. I feel her hands start to tighten their hold on my hips, our passionate kiss getting more intense as the seconds go by.

I pull back with a finale peck to her lips as we both try to get our breathing under control, I look down at the blonde beauty underneath me with a timid look as I try to build up the courage to say what I am about to say.

“I think I want to have sex, I’m just a little scared since I’ve never done it before and I don’t want it to suck for you” I start to ramble out, my insecurities taking ahold of me as I picture all the possible ways this could go wrong. I am drawn out of my thoughts by Florence, who gently places one of her hands on my cheek so she could make me look into her calming eyes.

“Y/n stop worrying, what ever happens I will love it because I will be doing it with you. I will be here every step of the way with you but we won’t be doing this unless you are 100% sure” my English bombshell comforts me, her eyes shimmering with the endless amount of love she feels for me.

My heart swells at the words Florence says, she always puts me first. Never taking me for granted, never using me for her pleasure. I send her a smile as I take off my shirt and bra, looking down at the speechless woman underneath me on the bed.

“I’m ready, I trust you 100%” I lovingly say, she smiles softly at me before she leans up to capture my lips back into hers in a sweet embrace.

I let her have her way with my mouth as she slowly wraps her arms around my smooth skin as she moves my body to lay on the mattress, effectively switching positions. She starts to press wet, warm kisses down my neck, the odd but enticing sensation sparks a wave of heat that settles down in my core.

“You are so beautiful, a true beauty” Florence softly murmurs to me making me blush a deeper red than I was already, I throw my head back letting out a loud moan once her amazing mouth meets my breasts.

Her mouth encases one of my nipples, the wet warm sensation sending a surge of pleasure to spread throughout my body, the way her tongue flicks and sucks my pink nub makes me start to loose all my reservations I had about taking this step.

“Oh god Flo, that feels amazing” I gasp out as she swaps her attention to my other nipple, using her fingers to tweak the nipple that she had just sucked.

“Oh baby this is just the beginning” she husks out as she releases my nipple with a pop, she then starts to kiss down my stomach while she uses her hands to remove my sleeping shorts, halting her movements once she notices that I was going commando.

“I knew you would get that Oscar nod, I wanted to give you a present” I wink out, smirking as I notice just how hot and bothered she had gotten. She doesn’t say anything to me opting to get back to her actions, spreading open mouthed kisses along my stomach and down my legs.

I can start to feel my arousal start to drip out of my core, as I can feel her hot breath getting closer to the place I needed her the most. I look down to see that Florence is focused solely on my exposed, trimmed pussy.

“So beautiful, everything about you is perfect.” The blonde passionately informs me before diving into my core, making me scream out in pleasure as I finally get to feel the touch of Florence’s mouth gobbling up my pussy.

“Fuck! Oh god, just like that” I cry out as I clamp my legs around her head, keeping her face buried into my weeping cunt. She let’s out a low moan at the feeling of my legs around her neck, the vibrations sending a pleasurable jolt right through me.

I feel something start to press into my entrance and slowly push into me, I let out a small hiss at the odd feeling but after a few moments of getting adjusted to it I start to thrust my hips back and forth, fucking myself desperately against Florence’s fingers.

I let myself get consumed by my need to be fucked so I meet each thrust of her fingers with a thrust of my hips, while making sure her mouth doesn’t stray from sucking my clit.

I start to feel my stomach coil as I am about to break, with one final rough thrust into my cunt and one final suck of my clit I finally come undone, instantly gushing over both Florence’s chin and fingers.

“Oh fuck I’m cumming” I cry out in ecstasy, Florence collapses down on the bed next to me wrapping her arm around my body, letting me cuddle into her as I recover from my high.

“That was amazing, you are amazing” Florence tells me lovingly as presses a kiss to my forehead, I smile to myself as I think about how lucky I am to have a person like Florence love me. After a few more moments I slyly crawl back over to straddle her lap, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth before sending her a naughty smirk.

“Your turn”

#first time #florence pugh x reader #yelena belova x reader #actor smut

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

FIC: The Royal We ch.2 (baon)

Summary: Family helps family. Sometimes right into the path of an oncoming car.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

Note: Just remember as you're reading this that all endings are eventually happy ones in 'By Any Other Name'!

~~*~~

One of the first things Red set up for the newly created security department in New New Home was a phone tree for calling out in case of an emergency. The first contact called their contacts, those contacts called theirs, and so on. Slightly archaic, perhaps, but Red had his reasons, bluntly explained, “if you actually talk to ‘em, you know they got the message and it don’t get jumbled up in a buncha chat replies. no one ever has ta call more’n three people, so it don’t take long and we got a better idea of whose gonna show up.”

In this case, it worked perfectly. It hardly took more than a couple of minutes for Edge to call his contacts and within ten, Monsters were already showing up at the house.

Edge spread out a map of New New Home on the hood of his car, using a felt-tipped pen to mark off grids. Next to it was a picture of Jude taken from their own refrigerator, proudly holding up the lumpy volcano he made one weekend in one of Stretch’s impromptu science classes. So young, only six years old, still an infant when they came to the surface; he would have no memories of living underground, nothing but his entire life on the surface to look forward to.

He glanced back at the porch where Stretch was sitting with Janice, talking to her in a low, soothing murmur, her other son sitting at their feet. She’d tried to rush off again to search, but in her panicked state, Edge was more concerned that she’d end up hurting herself than finding her son. He didn’t know what Stretch told her that convinced her to stay, but then, Stretch was always good at finding the right thing to say. If she couldn’t be coaxed to sit inside, then the porch was a reasonable alternative.

The Dog family was unsurprisingly the first to arrive, their oversized SUV pulling up next to the curb. Their protective nature towards children extended far beyond their own and every member of their family was present, even the youngest pup tucked sleeping into a carrier strapped to Dogamy’s back.

Without a word, Edge held up a small jacket, one of Jude’s, brought to them by his older brother, Oscar. If he weren’t already heavily invested in finding this child, Oscar’s expression would have cemented it, his fears hidden beneath brave determination to help protect his little brother in any way he could. It stirred old memories, ones that Edge rudely shoved away as the Dogs passed the jacket around, each of them sniffing intently.

“Dogamy, you and Dogaressa start in grid one,” Edge ordered, tapping the square on the map with a gloved fingertip. “That’s the last place he was seen, see if you can pick up a scent. Greater Dog and Doggo, grid two. If you find anything, call my cell phone before you come back, all right?”

“Got it,” Dogamy growled out. His wife nodded and the two of them loped off, their kin at their heels even as more cars began arriving, other Monsters walking up to get their own search grid.

Not long after, Undyne pulled up and came to a screeching stop at the curb, struggling to get from behind the wheel of her jeep. For most of her pregnancy, she’d hardly showed, but in the past couple weeks, she’d…blossomed, was the word Alphys used, her eyes glowing with adoration behind the lenses of her glasses. Privately, Edge thought ballooned might be more fitting considering the waddle she’d recently gained as she made her way towards him.

“Whatcha got left,” Undyne pushed in next to him to examine the map. With her belly leading the way, she very nearly bounced him into the yard.

Edge recovered and returned, leaning back in. “There’s a few grids left,” Edge said. He pointed out a sector. “We started closest to where he was last seen and spiraled out.”

“Good plan,” Undyne murmured.

“If you’re thinking of taking a grid for yourself, I’d like to invite you to think again.” Edge let his gaze drop meaningfully to her swollen belly. Her t-shirt could no longer contain it and from beneath the hem an expanse of taut, deep blue skin was peeking out, paler stretch marks striping along the sides, battle scars, according to her and Edge did not doubt it.

She graced him with a shameless, needle-sharp grin and gave her exposed belly a scratch, “Like you could stop me? Nah, Al already gave me a fin-full, I’m here for support purposes only.” She leaned in again, bracing a clawed hand on the hood as she studied the marked off grids with a nod, “Looks like you’ve got it mostly covered, anyway. Kid couldn’t have gotten too far, Dogs’ll sniff him out.”

Edge glanced up at the porch again where Janice was sitting, holding a coffee mug in clenched hands. Next to her on the table was a pile of crumpled tissues, the box close by. His competent assistant was nowhere in sight, lost in her worries for her son. Edge pitched his voice low as he said, “Let’s hope so.”

At that moment, there came a burst of sound from behind them reminiscent of the false flatulence from San’s whoopy cushion. To Edge, it was annoyingly familiar, the sound of his brother’s teleportation caused by the displaced air. Stretch’s sounded more like the sharp pop from a bubble of chewing gum, and Edge did not assume that the shortcutters in their family had control of the sound it made past the fact that it made sound at all, but he couldn’t help noting sourly that it suited their personalities nonetheless.

Undyne was less accustomed to having short skeletons popping in and out around her, and she jumped, her unsteady balance almost sending her sprawling on the car hood as she swore, “Fuck me, Red, give a little warning!”

Red snorted loudly, “ya look like someone beat me to it.”

He ignored her renewed curses, crawling up on the bumper to get a view of the map, sneakers squeaking against the fiberglass while Edge grit his teeth. He still hadn’t forgiven Red for his earlier cruelty, but this wasn’t the time. “Where is Sans?”

Red shrugged, his eye lights intent on the map, “checking a few things.”

Casually said and Edge left it at that. As this world’s Judge, Sans might have some insight into possible scenarios, he always knew more than he should. Like his brother. Like Stretch.

Edge knew little about Judging, by design. He hadn’t even known his brother was one until he became Captain of the Guard and it was Asgore who advised him of what it might entail, a discussion best forgotten. Stretch never brought it up, even on the very rare occasions when he spoke of Chara. It was easy to forget the unpleasant role he was forced to play in his own world.

“this area here is clear,” Red tapped a finger on grid seven, the one near the school. Edge didn’t question him, only crossed out the square and a low, distant howl made them all look up to see Dogaressa loping towards them, her long pink tongue lolling out as she ran.

“Report,” Edge said crisply even as she panted, catching her breath.

*Scent was strong, leaving his yard, went two streets, south,* she pointed at the map and Edge circled where she indicated. *then gone.*

“Gone? How could it be gone?” Edge demanded.

Dogaressa shook her head sadly, *Bike, car, vehicle of some sort, maybe. Not enough trace to follow. We’ll keep scouting, see if we can’t pick up the trail again.*

“Thank you,” Edge said, heavily. He chose not to look at Janice; seeing the crumbling hope on her face wouldn’t help find her son any faster.

Dogaressa nodded and loped off again.

Red hopped down from the bumper. “gonna head off, too, bro, got some cameras i can check, see if we can get a bead on him.” He reached up and pointed with a sharp-tipped finger. “get someone out to grid eight.”

“That’s very far for him to have traveled.”

“not with a bike or somethin’ and there’s a kinda treehouse out there that the kiddos use.” Red lowered his voice, “if it was a car, we got other problems than a simple lost kid.”

“I know,” Edge murmured. He spared a glance at Undyne who was listening silently with her hands folded over her belly. Her expression was a thundercloud; none of them wanted to voice their suspicions aloud. Much as he wished otherwise, Monsters were not exempt from criminals in their ranks, even where children were concerned. That was one of the few areas that Edge left in the control of others. He couldn’t trust himself to face anyone who would deliberately hurt a child, his soul burned even to consider it, a coal set inside his ribcage as he struggled to rid himself of the very thought. Janice needed his cool competence, not undefined rage at someone who might very well not exist.

Next to him, Undyne visibly struggled with her own anger, cradling her belly in both hands. “Go see if you can figure out what happened to the kid, Red,” she said low, “we’re depending on you, boss.”

Red grimaced, teeth gnashing, “don’t go giving me titles now, i’m more the take-ya-to-my-leader type.” He stepped back, vanishing into the void.

There was nothing to do but continue the search until Red reported back. Edge returned to the map, considering who to send to the next grid when a tug at his elbow made him jerk, very nearly lashing out. He stifled the reaction back, forcibly tamping down the agitated LV in his soul; his frustrations and anger were not serving him well here, blast it all.

At his side, Oscar looked up at Edge without the slightest clue to his inner turmoil. He was entirely too invested in his own, twisting his hands together with bright tears glimmering his eyes. Edge crouched down, close to his height, and asked with as much gentleness as he could muster, “Oscar? What is it?”

The child mumbled something too low to be heard.

Edge glanced at Undyne and handed over the pen in a silent ask for her to take over. She nodded, already grabbing her phone, as Edge said, coaxingly, “It’s all right, Oscar, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“It’s my fault,” Oscar said, low. The tears standing out in his eyes finally shed, dripping down to wet the short fur on his face. “It’s all my fault.”

Edge exhaled slowly. “How is it your fault?”

“I yelled at him,” Oscar burst out, his voice breaking on a sob, “We were tryin’ to set up a fort and he kept knocking things over, ‘n getting in the way. I yelled at him to go away and now—”

Of course. Children were alike no matter where they were from, it seemed, so often taking on a disproportional amount of blame that no one expected them to carry. Edge slid a careful arm around his quivering shoulders and gave him a gentle little shake, “Oscar, I need you to listen to me. Are you listening?”

He nodded, sopping at his wet face with his sleeve.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is--!”

“No,” Edge said firmly. “Sometimes brothers fight, sometimes they say things they don’t mean.”

That caught Oscar’s attention. He frowned, reluctantly intrigued, or perhaps hopeful to think an adult like Edge still squabbled with his brother. “You and your brother fight?”

“Constantly,” Edge said dryly, “and as recently as today. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love him or that I wish any hurt on him. It doesn’t mean I don’t care. You didn’t mean for Jude to wander off, it is not your fault. All right? Now, go sit with your mother. She loves you both very much and she needs you right now.”

He nodded, a little less miserably and headed back to the porch where Stretch and Janice were still sitting. Janice enfolded her son into her arms the moment he was in reach and the two of them clung to each other. Stretch leaned in to say something and Janice nodded. He stood and headed towards Edge, quick strides that were nothing like his usual lazy saunter.

“babe,” Stretch said, low, “i'm gonna head off and help look.”

Edge resisted the initial, ridiculous urge to deny him. Stretch was an adult, older than him as Stretch so often liked to point out, and Edge could hardly forbid him the right to join the search groups. They were in New New Home, not out in Ebott amongst the Humans, he couldn’t play at the protector by keeping his husband under lock and key. “All right,” Edge agreed, softly. “What grid do you want?”

“none,” Stretch said. He reached over and waved a hand loosely over the map. “babe, this is the right direction for everyone else, but i'm not about to stick myself to one spot when i can be halfway across town in two steps. you,” he pointed at Edge, “stay put, rally the troops or whatever, you do not need to be tromping around on that leg.”

“I hadn't planned on it.” He did not say he’d already mentally calculated the damages vs what assistance he could provide. The possible benefits did not outweigh the costs, it was not worth losing searchers if they were forced to assist him. Before Stretch could vanish, Edge blurted out, “I love you.”

It earned him a lopsided smile in return, “love you, too.” And with a single step Stretch was gone, shortcutting away nearly silently while Edge turned back to the map and Undyne, readying the next wave of searchers.

Hours went by, various groups checking in as they finished searching their grid. As soon as their section was cleared, a person was assigned in it to stay while the others moved on.

A text came from his brother, terse information that Jude climbed on a scooter where the Dogs lost his scent, and he’d been traveling north when he disappeared from camera view. The relief that he hadn’t gotten into a car was brief and the search was redirected, grids marked off. Jeff and Antwan reported nothing, as did the Bun family, who paused only briefly to comfort their kin before heading back out in search of hers. Doggo returned, tail between his legs, to report that the scent hadn’t been found again.

The day was dragging on, the weather cooling as the sun dipped lower, but they weren’t giving up, not with a child out there lost in it.

Undyne went inside to use the bathroom twice, muttering about her abused bladder and pausing to talk with Janice and Oscar each time. On her last trip, she brought out the blanket that was usually draped over the back of the sofa, bundling the two of them in its warm folds. Her earnestly encouraging expression fell when she began walking back to Edge, replaced with more grimness with every minute that ticked past.

“There was nothing in grid twenty-five,” Papyrus said. His normal exuberance was dulled, his earlier confidence that Jude would quickly be found wavering into disbelief.

Undyne gave him a punch on the arm that nearly sent him to the ground, “Don’t you even give a hint that you’re giving up, nerd,” Undyne hissed. She jerked her head towards the house. “And sure as fuck not in front of moms back there.”

“Of course not!” Papyrus lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders, “Now I need a new grid to search!”

It was starting to get dark, the sun cresting the horizon and sending the neighborhood into dim twilight. Edge went into the garage and flipped on the outside lights, illuminating his car and the map on it.

“Edge,” Undyne leaned in, her voice pitched low, “Look, I know none of us want to think it, but we might need to look into contacting the Human Authorities.”

“Noted,” Edge said tersely.

“Humans have gotten in here before, and if one did and snatched the kid, the longer we wait, the—”

She broke off, grimacing, her shoulders hunching as her hand hovered over her belly.

Edge could only stand with his own hands hovering uncertainly even as he said, sharply, "Are you all right?"

A long moment passed, then she managed, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Don't you bullshit me, if you make me deliver your child, I will never forgive you."

Undyne gave a rough laugh, "Pal, giving you a front row seat to my shrimp salad is nowhere on my menu. Braxton Hicks contractions, been having ‘em for weeks." She took a couple of long, slow breaths, then straightened, “Now, about the Humans.”

“I have no issue with Humans, I have plenty of issues with the Human authorities,” Edge snapped. Behind him, he heard a small, alarmed sound from Janice and lowered his voice, “even if a Human somehow managed to get into New Home without being seen, snatch Jude, again without witnesses, and miraculously leave with him the same way they came in, I’m not convinced the Ebott Police would actually assist us.” Edge paused, his mouth twisting, “That said, Asgore contacted the mayor’s office already, they are aware of the situation.”

Undyne made a rude sound, “Should’ve known you were a step ahead of me.” She glanced at the porch. “I’m gonna sit with mama up there for a few, it’s getting dark, she’s worried out of her mind, and my dogs are barking the moonlight sonata.”

“Go sit,” Edge told her, softly. He watched her waddle up the sidewalk, that encouraging expression already pasted into place, then he looked out into the neighborhood. The streetlights were coming on, bright puddles of light spaced out along the road that left dark patches between them.

Flashlights were on their way, but what were the odds of their search parties finding the child in the dark when they couldn’t find him in the daylight? Edge shook the thought away, despair had no place here, they would keep searching until the child was found. No matter what.

Even as he thought it, he heard the sudden pop of teleportation, bubblegum sweet, and he turned to see Stretch tumbling out into the middle of their front yard with Jude in his arms. Both of them were filthy, their clothing stained and soiled with dried leaves clinging. One was tangled stubbornly into one of Jude’s floppy ears. Jude’s small face was awash with tears and Stretch’s pale and sweaty, as if perhaps he’d teleported them some distance and was at the end of his endurance.

Before Edge could demand answers or even move, Janice was stumbling from the porch, tripping into the grass and crawling towards her son, laughing and crying in the same breath.

Stretch handed him awkwardly over, "he's okay, mama, little cold and tired, maybe."

"Thank you," she sobbed out, clinging to her child. Jude was holding on just as tight and both of them slung an arm around Oscar when he joined them. Janice managed to pull away long enough to ask, laughing around her tears, “Where? Where was he?”

“out in old new home,” Stretch slumped back into the grass, sockets tiredly closed. “there’s some paths out there that the kids like, leftover from when they were putting up those first houses. looks like when they stopped construction, they tossed some boards over a pit and didn’t fill it in. kiddo was lucky enough to find it, huh, champ?”

Jude only clung to his mother, his sobs muffled into her shoulder. Headlights were already coming down the street, groups returning from the search. Chances were Red alerted them the child was found, and as they poured from their cars, all their expressions were ones of purest relief.

“I’ll get a team out first thing in the morning to fill it in,” Edge began, “Stretch, can you show me on the map where—”

Undyne’s voice interrupted him, soaring over the growing crowd. “Now that we found the kid, can, uh, someone take me to the hospital? Think it’s time for me to meet my rugrat in person.”

The brief silence was almost as deafening as the sudden chorus that rose up of Monsters volunteering. In the end Papyrus took her, loudly claiming his right as Best Bud. Edge only stood back, grateful that it wasn’t him, and watched as Undyne nearly punched him for trying to help her into the car. The crowd began to thin, Jeff and Antwan heading off to retrieve Alphys and the Bun family claiming Janice and her children in between profuse thank yous.

Janice paused as she walked past him, Jude in her arms and Oscar at her side. “Thank you,” she said. Her voice was hoarse from crying, brimming with gratitude.

“You’re welcome,” Edge told her with quiet sincerity, and when he awkwardly held his arms out, she immediately leaned into the brief embrace. As she headed towards her brother’s car, Edge called out impulsively, “You can pay me back by handling all the press briefings tomorrow!”

Her sudden laughter was a relief from the previous onslaught of tears, “That’s a deal, boss!”

The other searchers had already headed for home, happy ending achieved, and Edge turned back to their house…and saw that Stretch hadn’t stood up yet. He was still sitting in the damp grass with his skull cradled in his hands.

“Love?” Edge knelt and saw with some alarm that his sockets were tightly closed. He was trembling, his hands rattling against his skull as they shook, and the bones were bleached nearly white, the soft orange glow of magic that usually lit his joints was dim. “Rus? Are you all right?”

“help me inside?” Stretch asked, tightly.

He very nearly scooped Stretch into his arms, injured leg be damned, and right into the car to head in for a room next to Undyne’s in the hospital. Instead, Edge tamped that impulse down and did as Stretch asked. Carefully helped him to his feet and guided him to the door, pausing only to snatch up the blanket from the chair Janice had been sitting in before leading him inside.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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primroseprime2019 · 3 years

Text

The Little Girl and The Dinosaurs

On a dark cold December night, there was little four and a half American/Italian girl was coloring on a piece of paper in the carpet near the fire. She has dark brown hair and blue eyes, and slightly tan skin; she was wearing pink nightgown and a silver whistle attached to her neck. Her name was Valentina Rosalina Grady and she was waiting for her parents to come from work. Truth be told, this was no ordinary little girl. She was different from the rest of the kids in her neighborhood. She had unbelievable powers. Ever since she was born, strange things happened. Animals from shape and sizes would come near her and tried to make her smile or laugh. And when she was in the backyard, flowers and plants would grow. It was really strange but her parents accepted her gift but they had to keep it a secret. So her parents decided to keep her home schooled so the kids in her school won't be scared at her.

Speaking of her parents, they were really good people. Her dad was name Oscar Grady. He had light brown hair and adventurous blue eyes. He used to be a Navy soldier but he retired to become a collage history teacher. He loved to teach others to learn but during his free time, he would play with his baby girl and make her smile while teaching her how to do combat to control her powers and even though she was small, she was a fast learner. She was smart for a little girl but her curiosity got the better of her and she would get into a little trouble. Her mom was name Alma. She was a beautiful Italian woman. She has dark brown hair and warm brown eyes. She was a doctor and was very kind to her patients. Every man wanted to marry her but she chose Oscar because he was very funny and smart. Valentina loved her parents with all her heart and soul and would stay by their side no matter what. Well, except when she had to go to the bathroom.

Then a teenage girl with blond hair and chocolate brown eyes; She wore a red sweater, brown pants and cowboy boots. She was about the age of eighteen. She came out from the kitchen. "Val, it's almost past yer bed time." She said in a sweet western accent.

Val looked at her almost pleadingly, "Awww… but Abby, can I stay up fow five mowe minutes? Mommy and Daddy pwomise to wead me a bed time stowy."

Abby smiled at her, "Alright but remember yer ma and pa ain't gonna like it to see their little baby girl still awake and energetic."

Val smiled brightly, "Thanks Abby! You'we the best babysittew evew!"

Abby's real name was Abigail Starious. She lived down the block with her big brother, Joshua or Josh, close to Valentina's home. She and her brother moved from their family ranch to study in the big city to be doctors. Abby worked as a full time babysitter for Valentina also a waitress in a cafe and her brother Joshua worked as a mechanic, for cars. They knew about Valentina's power and would keep it a secret because they took a liking to her.

"Ah shucks, yer making me blush." Abby smiled then she noticed Valentina's drawing, "Watcha drawing there Val?"

Val showed Abby a red long neck animal with a crocked drawing of a tree. "It's a Ba-wo-sau-wus." She said trying to say the name correctly. It's correct name was Barosaurus.

"Is it a dinosaur?" Abby asked playfully, knowing the answer. Val loved dinosaurs so much that she had stuffed dinosaur toys in her bed room. She always dreamed of meeting one in Jurassic World but her parents were busy with their jobs so they didn't have time to go there. Not that she was complaining but Val understood her parents and would listen to them always.

"Uh-huh, they awe pwant eatews and they awe weally big!" Val said with a big and bright smile.

"Wow! I bet they can reach the tallest of all trees!" Abby said playfully.

Val nodded, "Yup! But they have to stand on theiw back wegs."

Abby smiled before going to kitchen to make some hot coco. Val went up to the sofa and looks at the window to wait for her parents. Val waited and waited and waited but her parents didn't come home yet. She fell asleep when the clock strikes nine. Abby became worried. Why didn't Mr. and Mrs. Grady come home yet? Abby pickd up Val and puts her to bed. She looked at her phone and sends an e-mail to Mr. Grady.

Mr. Grady, it's me Abby. I was wonderin' why ya aren't home yet with Mrs. Grady. If ya'll have an extra shift in yer work, I'll watch Val till tomorrow.

-Abby

Abby went to the couch and fell asleep as she waited for the text of Oscar. On the next day, Abby woke up and prepared breakfast. It was pancakes for breakfast. She heard little footsteps coming down the stairs. She turned and smiled to see Val holding her stuff honey colored raptor doll named Honey.

"Mornin' Val," Abby gave Val her breakfast. Val sat down and yawned before eating her breakfast. Abby opened the mini TV on top of the counter and let Val watch Disney Junior. Then the news appeared.

"I interrupt this program for this breaking new. Two married couples were killed on a car accident when a truck hit them last night. Police discovered the truck driver was drunk. The two married couples did not survive the crash."

Abby froze. 'Oh God! Please don't tell me!' She thought in fear.

"The married couples have IDs and their names are Oscar Grady and Alma Grady. The drunken driver was survived and his sentenced will be in soon after he recovers."

Abby's eyes widen in horror. She looks at Val and her heart broke at the sight. Val's eyes were wide as she broke down in tears. Abby comforted Val as she and Val would have to visit the police station to inform them about Mr. and Mrs. Grady having a four and a half year old daughter and retrieve their bodies to be buried. The funeral started early morning. It was cold and the snow fall down at them slowly. Val was wearing a black dress and shoes. She was in a graveyard with men and women that were friends with her parents. Abby was there by her side, wearing a black dress and her brother Josh, who had green eyes and blonde hair, was wearing a black clothes as well. Val placed a red rose on her mother and father's coffins as they were buried. Val put her picture in the middle, on her parents' grave, so they can see it in heaven above.

After she did she went to Abby and Josh and started crying, Abby and Josh comforted her. As the funeral was over everyone went home. Val was staying with Abby and Josh for a while until they can find any relatives that Val had. But the problem was that no one knew who was the closest family member.

Val was sitting on a couch, wearing her black dress. She has a red scarf that belongs to her mother; her whistle was buried in it, and her father's black beanie hat. She had dry tear stains on her face as she looked at a picture of her with her parents. Josh and Abby watched her with sympathetic looks.

"Is there any news 'bout her relatives?" Josh asked.

Abby shook her head, "Not yet, I'm still lookin'."

Josh sighed and he looked at Valentina sadly. Val wiped her tears away. "We can't just stand here and do nothin'." He looks at Abby, "We have to find her a family or at least part of her family. Do you remember if Mr. and Mrs. Grady havin' relatives?"

Abby tapped her chin with her index finger before snapping, "That's it! I remember seeing a picture of Mr. Grady with his brother. I think his name was Owen and he works at Jurassic World."

Josh smiled, "That's great! Do you know his number?"

Abby shook her head, "No but I bet Oscar has his number on his phone."

Josh nodded and the two went upstairs in Valentina's temporally room and went to her father's things and grabbed his cell phone before looking for Owen Grady.

"Let's see," Abby looked at the names inside the phone. "Here it is." Abby found the name Owen Grady and she calls him.

In the Isla of Nublar, a man with green eyes and light brown, hair wearing a blue shirt, with a black vest full of pockets, brown pants and shoes. He was in his bungalow fixing his motorbike. Then another man came. "Owen! Still enjoying your afternoon?" he asked with a strong African/French accent.

Owen wipes out a sweat from his forehead, "Yeah, taking a break from the girls, Barry." He throws his wrench in a toolbox.

Then Owen's cell phone rang. He picks it up to see a picture of a man with brown hair and blue eye. "Oscar? Huh, it's been long since I seen him."

"How long you haven't seen him?" Barry asked.

Owen counted his fingers, "I think about sixteen years."

Barry rolled his eyes at him as Owen answered his phone, "Hey Oscar! It's been long time since we spoke."

"Ah…howdy," Abby's voice answered, "Is this Owen Grady?"

"Yeah this is Owen and who are you and how the hell do you know my name and also how did you get my brother's phone?"

"I'm Abigail Starious." She answered, "I know yer brother because I and my brother, Joshua, lived down the blocks close to his house."

"Uh-huh, yeah and why are you calling in me using my brother's phone?" Owen asked.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Abby asked.

"Tell me what?"

"Owen, your brother Oscar and his wife died in a car accident."

Owen froze, his phone was still in his ear and his mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide as dinner plates, "When did this happen?"

"A week ago," Abby said, "Look, I know we just met but yer brother has a little four in a half little girl, who needs a family and yer the closest family she's got."

Owen didn't say anything. He and Oscar use to work at the Navy together until Oscar retired to be a history teacher in a university college and married an Italian woman name Alma. He and Oscar rarely talk due to the fact they were very busy in work but now his big brother was dead along with his wife and now his niece- one that he didn't know he had- was now an orphan.

"What's her name?" Owen asked, wanting know his niece's name.

"Her name is Valentina Rosalina." Abby said, "So are you going to take care of her? She's a very sweet girl and well behaves."

Owen thought about it. He is the only family left for his niece and he did took care of raptors, how hard can it be?, "Alright, I'll send her a ferry ticket next week to bring her here in the Isla Nublar."

Owen could hear Abby and Josh cheering happily, "Thank you! Josh and I are gonna get her a passport. She is goin' to be so happy!"

"Alright and thanks for the information." Owen said as he turned off his cell phone.

"What was that all about?" Barry asked.

Owen looked at him before saying, "Oscar and his wife Alma died in a car accident." Barry's eyes widen. "And I have a niece, that I didn't know I had, named Valentina Rosalina." Owen looked at Barry, "I'm the only family member she has left."

Barry's mouth was hanging open in shock, "Owen, you're going to raise a little girl that you barely know while working with Raptors?"

Owen shrugs, "Hey, I raised the girls and I'm still alive." He said, "How hard it is taking care of a little girl?"

Barry was about to answer but Owen quickly raised his right hand and said blankly, "don't say it."

Barry chuckled, "And how are you going to get a ferry ticket?"

"Easy, I'll asked Claire to give me and that doesn't work I could ask Simon Masrani." Owen looked at him, "But first can you help me buy the things that little girls like." Barry rolled his eyes but he decided to help because that little girl might not survive here. Barry and Owen went to the park to buy stuff for Val.

Meanwhile, Abby and Josh told Val everything. Val was shocked, happy, and worried. Shocked that she had an uncle that she didn't know she had, happy that she had an uncle and she wasn't alone and yet worried that her uncle might not like her. Abby helped Val pack her things like clothes, some toys, her Mandora Lute and her pink Ocarina. Val likes to play music. Her mom would teach her during her free time.

Josh bought Val a passport. They were lucky because Oscar used to work in the Navy. Owen was able to make Claire give him a ticket for Val after hearing the event and send it next week. After a few weeks, Josh was driving his car with Abby in the front seat. Valentina was wearing a red t-shirt with gray long sleeves, brown combat pant and orange shoes. She has mother's red scarf and her father's black beanie hat on. Her dark hair was tied into pigtails. As Josh parked the car, they went inside and saying their goodbyes to Val.

Abby was hugging little Val, "Bye sweet pea, I'm gonna miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too." Valentina said then she hugged Josh. "Bye, Josh."

Josh hugged her back before he let her go and he took out a small red box with a ribbon, "Yer Pa wanted to give ya this on yer birthday but since he can't I was wonderin' if ya wanted yer birthday gift a little early."

Val took the box and opened it to reveal a raptor claw fossil necklace. Val smiled and she put it own. She loved raptors as they were her favorite dinosaur. "Thanks Josh."

Josh smiled until the airport voice speaker's announce, "Ladies and Gentlemen the plane will leave in twenty minutes."

"Well, go on, ya don't wanna be late." Abby said with a smile.

"Yeah, yer gonna see many dinosaurs there." Josh then added, "And if somethin' cashes you...run." He whispered the last part, alarming Val.

"Josh!" Abby scolded.

Josh chuckled, "I'm just kiddin'. Jurassic World has tight security; ain't nothing gonna hurt ya."

Val nodded and went in line while she waved at Abby and Josh. Val sat near the window and put on her seat belt when the airplane took off. Val looked at the clouds in the sky. She took out the raptor necklace and held it tight. "Please, please, please, please like me." Val whispers before going to sleep.

#fanfiction #sad #family #jurassic world #my ocs #the little girl and the dinosaurs

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my-major-is-k-howard · 4 years

Text

She

Inspired by “She” by dodie. Part 2 is here! This one is a quite a bit longer than I originally intended. I guess that happens when I get too excited about an idea haha. Nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 3340

Part 1

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Part 2

Cathy glanced at herself one last time in the mirror, scanning over her outfit for any imperfections. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just blue skinny jeans and a grey t-shirt, yet she still felt apprehensive about leaving her room.

Of course, she knew that none of the other queens would mock her outfit but she still felt so out-of-place around them. They were all very into fashion and dressed to impress while Cathy simply didn’t. She preferred to spend her time reading and writing over shopping for the latest fashion trends.

Cathy pulled at the hem of her shirt to straighten out the cloth before heading over to her desk to grab her phone. She checked to see if she had any unread messages and sighed in relief when there were none. Kitty hadn’t spilled her glitter which meant the queens should be ready to leave soon. Cathy quickly slid her phone into her pocket before leaving her room.

She walked down the stairs and entered the living room where Cleves, Jane, and Aragon were waiting. They all greeted Cathy as she approached.

“Anne and Kitty should be down soon,” Jane said. “They said they were finishing up when I asked them a few minutes ago.”

“‘Finishing up’ for those two could take ages,” Aragon replied, putting air quotes around “finishing up.”

Cleves grumbled in agreement before walking to the bottom of the stairs and yelling, “Anne, Kitty, hurry up! I want to get my boba tea sometime in the next month!”

Cathy heard one of the bedroom doors swing open as Kitty shouted back. “Coming!” Two pairs of feet descended the stairs before Anne and Kitty made their entrance into the living room.

“We’re here!” Anne exclaimed, calling Cathy’s attention to her. Cathy was left breathless at the sight in front of her. Anne was wearing a green crop top that left her midriff slightly exposed, along with black jeans and her classic choker. Cathy’s feelings began to bubble up to the surface at the sight though she managed to force them down and compose herself. Cathy flashed Anne a quick smile which was immediately returned.

Cathy was snapped out of the moment by the sound of Jane jingling her car keys as she grabbed them from the counter by the front door. “Well, now that we’re all here, let’s be on our way,” Jane said to the other queens before leading the way to her minivan.

As usual, Cathy opted to sit in the back of the minivan so that the other queens could sit closer to the speakers. Cathy was just about to shift the seat back into position when a hand stopped her. Before Cathy could even process what had happened, Anne was sitting next to her in the back row.

“I hope you don’t mind me joining you back here,” Anne said as she shifted the seat in front of her back into its regular position.

“No! Not at all,” Cathy replied. “It’s nice to have some company.”

Anne smiled at that before the rest of the queens piled into the vehicle. As Jane pulled out of the driveway, Cleves grabbed the auxiliary cord and began playing music through the speakers. Kitty immediately began singing along to the song that Cleves had chosen.

“You look really nice.” Cathy turned her head at the comment, growing more surprised when she realized that Anne had directed it at her.

Anne saw the surprised expression on Cathy’s face and misinterpreted it. She quickly began backtracking. “I mean… you always look nice. But especially right now… What I mean to say is I like your outfit,” Anne rambled as the blush on her cheeks intensified with each word that spilled out of her mouth.

“Thank you, Anne,” Cathy replied, dropping her gaze to her lap in hopes that Anne wouldn’t see the similar tint of red that was now painting Cathy’s cheeks as well. “I really like your outfit as well.”

Cathy finally looked up after a few moments to see Anne smiling softly at her. When their eyes met, Anne’s smile widened which only brought a similar smile to Cathy’s face.

Cathy eventually fixated her gaze out the window, watching the familiar sights go by as the car approached the mall. She was also half listening to Cleves and Kitty’s duet that was happening in the row in front of her.

Cathy’s thoughts came to a halt when she felt a soft hand brush hers from where it was resting on the leather seat next to her. Cathy didn’t dare turn around to face the culprit. Instead, she simply bit her lip and tried to steady her breathing that had become quite erratic from the touch.

It was probably just an accident, Cathy reasoned with herself. It doesn’t mean anything.

Cathy barely moved a muscle until the van was safely parked in one of the mall’s parking spots. Only then did she break her temporary spell of immobility as she exited the van and joined the other queens outside.

The group entered the mall and were welcomed by the bright lights and signs of the various shops. Before any of the queens had the chance to run off, Aragon began her monologue of “How to Behave at the Mall.”

“…and make sure you don’t break anything. Please. Check your phones so we don’t have to hunt you down when it’s time to leave. Okay?” Aragon finished, alternating her gaze between Kitty and Anne. The two cousins nodded before breaking out into huge smiles.

“Perfect! We’ll meet back here when it’s time to leave,” Jane said. “I’m going to look for some new throw pillows. Ooh! And maybe some more candles!” Jane walked off in pursuit of her desired items, followed by Aragon who mumbled under her breath that Jane would spend too much money if she didn’t babysit her credit card.

“Let’s go, Anna!” Kitty shouted, dragging Cleves off in the direction of the toy store. Cathy was fully expecting Anne to follow her cousin and leave her by herself so she was quite surprised when the Boleyn girl turned back to her with a grin on her face.

“And where are we off to?” Anne asked. Cathy felt her heart thrumming inside her ribcage. Did Anne really want to spend time with her?

“I was planning on going to the bookstore,” Cathy answered before quickly adding, “Unless you want to go somewhere else. I don’t have a preference really.”

Anne’s smile widened before she linked arms with Cathy and began pulling her in the direction of the bookstore. “I love books.”

Cathy felt butterflies stir in her stomach as she walked arm-in-arm with Anne towards the bookstore. She let herself imagine for a few moments what it would be like to link arms with Anne as they walked together to a coffee shop for a date. She imagined Anne kissing her cheek softly and whispering to her how beautiful she looked.

Cathy shook her head to rid her mind of the daydream just as they entered the bookstore. She gazed in awe at the amount of books in sight, taking in all the different titles and genres. Anne had a similar expression on her face as she looked around. “I see why you like it here.”

Cathy turned to Anne. “It’s my little paradise. It’s quiet, I’m surrounded by books, and the chairs are super comfortable.” Cathy gestured to the armchairs with her free hand. “I usually grab a book and read until the other queens are done.” Cathy ducked her head in embarrassment as she admitted to what her mall experiences were actually like.

“What were you thinking of reading today?” Anne asked out of curiosity.

Cathy looked back up to meet Anne’s eyes. She didn’t see any judgment in them, much to her surprise. Rather, she saw genuine interest and warmth swirling in those green irises. Cathy shifted her focus to the Classics section of the bookstore so she didn’t get caught staring into Anne’s eyes for too long.

“I was planning on reading The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde,” Cathy replied.

“I guess I’ll have to find a book to read so I can join you,” Anne said. “I’ll meet you back at the chairs.”

Before Cathy could respond, Anne had unlinked their arms and run off to find a book. Cathy shook her head at Anne’s antics but the small smile on her face gave away how fond she was of the girl.

Cathy made her way to the Classics section in pursuit of her chosen book. She scanned the shelves carefully until her eyes landed on a hardback copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray. Cathy grabbed it and admired the cover before heading to the seating area where she would spend the rest of her time reading.

Cathy made her way over to her favorite armchair and sat down, curling up comfortably on the cushion. Before she began reading, Cathy looked around until she spotted Anne approaching her with a wide grin on her face. Cathy let out a small chuckle when she noticed the book she was holding.

“Of all the books to choose from, you chose that one,” Cathy commented as Anne slid into the armchair in front of her.

“I don’t know what you mean. Captain Underpants is a classic,” Anne shot back with a smile on her face.

Cathy giggled at Anne’s response. “I’m not sure the critics would agree.”

“I’m the only critic you need, babes.” Cathy’s breath hitched at Anne’s casual use of the nickname. She felt her cheeks begin to flush pink so she let her gaze drop down to the book in her hands in an attempt to hide it.

“Let me read in peace, Anne,” Cathy replied lamely as she opened up her book. She heard Anne shuffle in her seat and the sound of pages turning. Cathy flipped a few pages of her own book until she arrived at the beginning of the first chapter.

From that point on, the two queens read in almost complete silence, aside from Anne’s occasional giggles at the jokes of Captain Underpants. Cathy was totally enraptured by the world Oscar Wilde created in his novel. She absorbed each word written, page after page. She almost forgot that Anne was even there. Almost. There was still that elated feeling in Cathy’s chest when she remembered that Anne was still right there in front of her.

Cathy shyly glanced up from her book to admire Anne while she read. Except when she looked up, she saw that Anne wasn’t reading. Instead, the Boleyn girl was staring right back at her. Their eyes met for a brief moment before both queens snapped their heads back down to their respective books, crimson creeping quickly into both of their cheeks.

Cathy had trouble concentrating on her novel from that point on. She scanned the words on the pages but her mind was elsewhere. Did Anne think she was weird for staring at her? Did she somehow figure out about her feelings? Did Cathy have something on her face? Was that why Anne was looking at her?

Cathy’s mind swirled with embarrassed and anxious thoughts about what had just happened. As Cathy tried to calm herself down and return to reading, she was snapped out of her thoughts by her phone’s text tone. She checked the screen and saw that Aragon had texted the group chat saying that they would be meeting at the mall entrance in five minutes so that they could get home in time for lunch.

Cathy spoke up to get Anne’s attention. “Aragon wants us to meet back at the entrance in five minutes.”

“Already?” Anne whined. She checked her phone and muttered something under her breath that Cathy didn’t catch.

“I’m going to buy this really quick and then we can go,” Cathy continued before getting up and walking to the cash register. After paying for the book, she returned to where Anne was waiting for her by the door.

“I’m guessing you enjoyed your book then,” Anne commented as Cathy approached.

“Yeah! It’s really interesting. I’ve enjoyed it so far,” Cathy replied. “How was Captain Underpants?”

“It was a masterpiece,” Anne said as they began walking back to the mall’s entrance.

“Spoken like a true critic,” Cathy joked before noticing that they weren’t heading toward the queens’ rendezvous spot anymore. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Anne replied and grabbed Cathy’s hand, leading her in the opposite direction of the mall’s entrance.

“Aragon is going to be mad at us if we’re late, Anne,” Cathy fretted but nonetheless followed the girl, relishing the feeling of Anne’s hand in hers. She couldn’t help but notice how soft Anne’s hand was and how perfectly it fit in her own. Cathy bit her lip to prevent herself from smiling at the simple action.

“First of all, Aragon won’t be mad at you. She’ll be mad at me,” Anne explained. “Second, it won’t take that long. And third, it’ll be fun! I promise.” Anne flashed Cathy one of her dazzling smiles and squeezed her hand lightly.

Cathy sighed. How could she say no to Anne? “Alright. As long as it’s quick.”

“It is!” Anne replied. “We’re almost there.”

The two continued walking until Anne stopped in front of the mall’s photo booth. She let go of Cathy’s hand and gestured dramatically to the machine. “Ta-da!”

Cathy giggled at Anne’s excitement. “Really, Anne?”

“C’mon, Cathy. Please?” Anne pleaded, pouting slightly. “I’ll pay for it.”

“Okay,” Cathy acquiesced as Anne held open the dark curtain for Cathy to enter. Cathy scrambled inside and took a seat, joined by Anne a few moments later. She watched as Anne inserted the money and jumped in surprise at the loud voice that was activated in the machine.

The automated voice walked the two queens through the process before it began counting down. Before Cathy had a chance to ask Anne what pose they should do, the Boleyn girl wrapped her arm around Cathy’s shoulder and pulled her into her side. Cathy smiled widely at the action just as the first photo was taken.

Cathy turned to face Anne and stared adoringly at her as she made a silly face for the next photo. Anne was so close to her. Their legs were brushing, Anne’s arm was wrapped around her, and Cathy was in an utter state of bliss. She breathed in the scents of Anne’s shampoo and perfume, and instantly felt calm. There were hints of lemongrass and vanilla, mixed with the sweet aroma of honeysuckle. Cathy wanted to stay like that forever, in Anne’s arms breathing in her intoxicating scent.

Cathy was snapped out of her thoughts by the automated voice beginning a new countdown. Cathy turned back to face the camera and pulled another silly face to match Anne’s. The camera snapped the picture and the voice announced that the next photo would be their last one.

Cathy thought about what she should do next but was cut off by Anne beating her to it. Cathy froze when she felt soft lips pressed against her cheek. She was completely caught off guard by the action, subconsciously feeling a small smile spread across her face matched by a light blush on her cheeks.

The photo booth captured the moment and the two blushing queens parted from each other. A few moments later, the strip of pictures was printed out and Anne grabbed them from the slot in the machine. Cathy followed Anne as they exited the photo booth, blinking as her eyes readjusted to the outside light.

Anne and Cathy rushed back to the mall entrance as quickly as they could after that. Cathy’s mind was still reeling from the events of the photo booth, questioning what Anne had done. Even though Cathy tried to ignore it, the same thought kept bouncing back inside her head. She enjoyed it. She enjoyed being close to Anne. She enjoyed it when Anne kissed her. Cathy shook her head frantically to rid herself of the recurring thought. She was falling madly in love with Anne.

As the two approached the mall doors, Cathy noticed that the other four queens were waiting for them. Aragon had her arms crossed and she was shaking her head in disapproval as Anne and Cathy joined the group.

“You’re late,” Aragon deadpanned with a frown on her face.

Before Cathy could respond, Anne was already speaking. “Sorry, Aragon. It was my fault. I lost track of time.”

“Of course you did,” Aragon responded before letting out a sigh. “Now that we’re all here, let’s head back to the car.”

As the queens began walking back to Jane’s minivan, Anne bumped shoulders with Cathy to get her attention. “Told you Aragon wouldn’t get mad at you.”

Cathy chuckled. “No, but she got mad at you.”

“I’m used to it,” Anne quipped before pulling out the photo booth pictures from her pocket and handing them to Cathy. “Here. Maybe you can use this as a bookmark for your new book.” Anne gestured to the bag that Cathy was still carrying.

Cathy gingerly took the photo strip from Anne. “Thank you.”

Anne winked at Cathy as they made it to the car. The queens loaded up their purchases and got in, enjoying the peaceful ride back home.

After lunch, Cathy found herself back in her room staring at the photo booth pictures. A giddy smile was plastered on her face as she admired the sight of Anne kissing her cheek. Cathy got up from her bed and made her way to her desk. She took a seat and pulled out her journal, setting the photo booth strip off to the side. Cathy picked up her pen and began writing.

Anne never fails to make my heart flutter with her small tokens of friendship. A mug of coffee, a car ride, hand holding and linked arms, an impromptu photo booth shoot… a kiss on the cheek. When I close my eyes, I can still feel the feather soft touch of her lips in the same spot where she kissed me. Oh, how I long to feel that same softness on my own lips…

I’m getting ahead of myself. There is not a single notion of possibility that she could ever return my love for her. I am Icarus and she is the brilliant sun. If I fly too close, she will be my downfall. I may wish in my heart for her to fall in love with me but my mind is too sensible to give in to such a foolish desire. I am satisfied with these small moments of friendship, despite how much it pains me to keep my feelings closed off and hidden. This pain is a constant reminder of how extraordinary and beautiful she is to me. There is no better pain than that. The fruits of love are sweet no matter the tree, whether they are orchards on public grounds or private property.

Anne is so blissfully unaware of how much she means to me. She wanders through every day not knowing that she holds my very heart within her grasp. I have given her my most precious possession and yet she is oblivious to my self-inflicted vulnerability. Anne, my beloved Anne! I lament my cowardice, for you will never know that you mean everything to me.

Cathy took a shaky breath as she finished putting her thoughts to paper. She hadn’t expected to get so emotional while writing. Cathy heaved a sigh as she quickly signed her name at the bottom of the journal entry. Before she closed the journal, she glanced back at the photo booth strip and smiled. She quietly slid it into her journal before closing it and stashing it away in her desk drawer. The photo booth pictures were still a bookmark like Anne wanted, just not for The Picture of Dorian Gray.

#parrlyn #parrelyn #parrlyn fanfic #six the musical #six the musical fanfic #anne boleyn #catherine parr #anne boleyn x catherine parr

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ruby-assassin · 4 years

Text

Galton pride

this took me a whole year to write and i’m recyling mood boards....it’s a bad time for me

Nova looked up at the float. Tomorrow was Galton’s anual pride festival, and her team got their own float. “So, it came out nice.” She said looking at the fringe on the side and the signs and posters hung on it. Ruby had hung many “protect trans kids” poster as Oscar hung small bi flags on the elevated part they’d be standing on. Dana added flag from her house that had the words “girls love girls” in pink. Adrian has drawn some good pan posters too. Novas contribution had been the huge “love always wins” sign on the back of the float. She’s decorated it each of their flags for their sexualities, she thought it looked nice. “Nice?” Oscar asked. “It’s totally sick!” He high-fived Ruby who was grinning and covered in blue and pink paint. “Can you imagine us on this tomorrow?” She said as she climbed back on to it. “I’ll be here like ‘Trans right!’ And Oscar will be over here eating cotton candy that looks like a bi flag. And Dana will sit up there being gay and loving women! And Adrian will stand there with his pen and make rainbow renegades pins. And nova will stand here,” she pointed to the center of the float. “And wave awkwardly as she does.” Oscar and Adrian laughed. Dana yelled a ‘hell yeah!’ And high-fived Ruby. “Hey, I’m not that awkward.” Nova fought with a smile on her lips. “You say that now until you see the pictures of yourself tomorrow.” Oscar laughed and held out one of the beaded necklaces in the bi flag colors to Nova. “Wear that tomorrow, for solidarity.” He said as he put his own on. She smiled and put hers on too. “Okay guys, we need to be here at seven tomorrow. So wear a nice outfit and try and include some pride items too.” Adrian said as he shooed ruby and Dana off the float. “Ruby, didn’t you say you had face paint?” Adrian asked. “Yeah! I should have all the colors we need. I might not have all Dana’s colors though.” She said sadly. “It’s alright Ruby, I have my own anyway.” Dana winked at her and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Okay well, let’s get home and rest before the main event tomorrow.” Adrian smiled at his team.

The next morning Nova showed up to the warehouse they were starting at earlier than needed. She wore a black T-shirt with a small bisexual flag colored heart where a breast pocket would be. Her hair was down as always and she wore a pair of dark denim short since it was hot. The necklace Oscar had given her was around her neck. Her combat boots made an echo in the large building as the only other people here were the council, Adrian and a couple civilians doing maintenance. Adrian waved Nova over to where he and his dads were sitting, an area with a couple chairs and a supply of donuts, coffee and waters. “Hey.” Adrian said with a smile. Nova smiled back and sat next to him. “Hi.” She smiled. “Hi Nova, how are you?” The captain asked. She turned to him, she still felt weird about everything that happened between her and the council. Sure she had tried to kill him, and sure she did hate him from the time she was a small child, but they mended everything with multiple meetings and countless crying session (all of them recorded from the captains office or the interrogation room). “Im good, I’m excited to be on the float this year. I’ve come to all of the pride parades you’ve had so far.” She tucked hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to see that you guys are not only representing the lgbtq+ community but encouraging the people in it.” This was something that’s never changed in her mind. She loved the colorful flags and the face paint and the shirts she bought herself every year, though she had to hide them from the others. Unlike Adrian’s parents, Nova’s uncle wasn’t supportive of this kind of stuff. Most of the Anarchists were like that too, leaving Nova with internal conflict and self hatred that filled her need for her Uncle’s approval. “It’s nice to hear.” Hugh said with his classic smile. Adrian swiped his hand over Nova’s and caught her attention. “Wanna go and put some finishing touches on the float?” He asked as he held up his pen. Nova nodded and stood with him. “I’ll see you out there.” Nova said to the super couple as they walked off, hearing them chuckle.

“So, you want to help me paint my face?” Adrian asked as they made it to their float. He pulled out his marker, ready to sketch out some paints. “Sure, though I’m not quite the artist you are.” Nova smiles as she hoisted herself up to sit on the float next to her boyfriend. Adrian smiled back at her as he drew the pots of paint on the different colors of fabric or tinsel that covered the wooden float underneath. “Well, I don’t think a tiny flag will be too hard.” He said as he finally drew a paint brush too. Nova took the small brush from him and dipped it in the blue paint, using her other hand to take his glasses off. “Stop smiling so much so I can paint your face, dork.” Nova said as she patted the apples of his cheeks as he smiled. “Sorry.” He said trying to be serious. “Force of habit.” Nova let out a small laugh and continued the stripes of color on his cheeks. When she was finished she nodded. “Some of my best work.” She said simply and handed the brush to Adrian. “My turn.” She said and leaned her face towards him. Adrian just laughed at her enthusiasm and drew up some purple paint. “You really are excited aren’t you?” He said as he dipped the paint brush in the first pot of paint. “I am.” Nova said, stopping when the paint bust was swiping against her tanned skin. “I’ve always loved the parade. My uncle was homophobic and it made things really weird, especially when I got a crush on a girl for the first time. I wanted to talk to him, but hsse shut down the conversation as soon as I asked ‘is it okay for two people of the same gender to be in love?’ It was scary and new and I had no one to explain.” Nova kept her eyes closed and waited for the cool sensation of the paint on her skin again but it didn’t come. When she opened her eyes Adrian was looking at her with a sad look. “Nova,” He started. “Nope. I don’t want pity. I just wanted to tell you. Some backstory, ya know.” She said and pushed hair away from her forehead. Adrian tried to look less sad as he went to paint her face again but it wasn’t working. “Stop being sad.” Nova said with determination. “No. That was a sad story.” He said and pouted extra hard. “Hmmm, will a kiss make it better?” Nova said as she leaned towards him. He perked up. “Actually,” Adrian said and smiled. Nova laughed and pressed her lips to Adrian’s. They shared a small kiss before they pulled back and Adrian continued to paint her cheeks. When Dana and Narcissa arrived they were talking about the days events and holding hands. They had started dating a while ago and Dana had invited her girlfriend to join them on the float today. She was explaining how after the parade they would all be free to enjoy the festivities and stalls the Narcissa when they arrived next to the float. “Hey.” Dana smiled and sat on the edge of the float. “Good morning.” Narcissa supplied as she leaned next to her girlfriend. “Hi!” Adrian smiled as he finished painting nova’s face. “Hey guys.” Nova said as she turned around to look at them. The group held a steady conversation even as Ruby and Oscar joined until the council stood on their own float and announced that the parade was gonna start soon so they had to get on their floats to prepare. Ruby, who was wearing a trans flag as a cape, climbed up and held her hand out to Nova with a smile. “This is gonna be so fun!” She said as Nova climbed up with her. “I ave no doubts about that.” She said as the others made their way onto the float.

The sun was hot, but Nova could barely feel it over the vast amount of happiness and excitement she felt as the floats made their way down the street. People waved and called out to them as they waved and smiled. Their float had a built in speaker and was playing various songs the council had approved. Some little kids on the sidewalks danced along as they passed, the sight making Nova smile. Ruby and her were on the middle podium, swaying and singing along to the music with smiled. Oscar was tossing out rainbow bead necklaces while Dana and Narcissa were crouched on the edge of the float talking to a girl who was walking along the sidewalk, she looked to be about 13/14 years old and seemed absolutely infatuated with the two girls holding hands. Adrian was on the back of the float, tossing out the rainbow renegades pins he’d made the night before. It was fun, Nova was having the most fun she had ever had and she was being herself while doing so. She didn’t have to hide in an alleyway and make sure no one saw her face, she didn’t have to stash away her pride wear before heading home tonight. She didn’t have to pretend anymore. Ruby grabbed both of her hands as an upbeat song started and started to scream the lyrics and jump around. She looked so happy. Nova matched her level of enthusiasm, singing along as Ruby had introduced her to the song that was playing a couple weeks prior. As the song came to a close, Oscar came to join them on the podium, making a joke about how Nova was stealing his girlfriend. Nova and Ruby both laughed, Ruby pulling Nova into a tight side embrace, squishing their cheeks together. “We’re in love, don’t even try to come between us.” Nova laughed and turned to kiss Ruby’s cheek, earning a wild giggle from ruby. Oscar pulled his girlfriend away from Nova and swatted at her like a cat. “No this ones mine, Adrian is down there, go kiss him.” HE made a pouty face as the two girls laughed at him. Nova eventually let herself down to stand with Adrian fro the last two blocks of the parade. He smiled at her as she stood next to him, a group of fan girls going wild at the sight of them together. Nova let how weird it was slip as she wasn’t ready to let it ruin her mood. The two of them smiled and waved all the people around them while talking about Adrian’s previous experiences the the parade. Nova laughed along with his stories and putting in her input where it was needed. As the float came to a stop at a street near the park where the stalls and activities were placed, the group hoped off their float and stood by the entrance, Nova’s excitement bubbled up inside her. “You look excited.” Dana smiled at her. “I’m overflowing with positive emotions.” Nova whispered. “Then lets go!” Ruby yelled, leading thier charge into the festivities.

#renegades #supernova #archenemies #nova artino #ruby tucker #adrian everhart #dana bell #nova mclain

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in-my-head-i-do-everything-right · 4 years

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Hallie - “you had it figured out since you were in school/everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool.”

you’ve had it figured out since you were in school. everybody loves pretty, everybody loves cool

Part of the reason why Allie even sends in that self-tape for that Disney show is because Cassandra tells her not to. She’s feeling rebellious. She’s thirteen.

Only then she gets a callback. And then a skype call with a casting director. And then another call but with the creator of the show. And then she’s across the country, out in sunny LA (it’s December, and it’s snowing back in West Ham, and this shift in weather is really freaking her out).

She gets through one audition. And then two.

She gets the part.

And maybe the show won’t even last a whole season. Maybe it’ll be cancelled before it even airs. Maybe she’ll hate her castmates. Or just LA in general. And, God, she can’t sing. Does Disney know that? Do they expect a music career out of her? Maybe this is all she’ll ever be known for.

But then Cassandra tells her to go for it, and then her family packs up and moves across the country, and suddenly… suddenly this is it.

Post-Disney, the first film she does is this small budget indie thing that films on location up in Oregon.

There’s a definite learning curve.

First of all, craft services sucks. Which makes her sound like a snob, but God, she is so used to these mini chocolate croissants available at all times. Like, on the last day of shooting that Disney show, she asked what bakery they were from. One of her co-stars had laughed at her like it was some kind of joke which honestly hurt more than the show ending.

Second of all, nature. As it turns out, shooting outside and shooting on a lot is a very different experience. And shooting out in the rain, which it is always doing in Oregon—twenty-four seven—is an… experience. But a fun experience. Really fun. Makes her think that maybe she’s doesn’t need the job security that Disney provided. Like, fuck that.

And, last of all, Harry Bingham. He gets a whole bullet on this stupid list because he’s the guy who thinks he’s somehow better than her because he got an Oscar nomination or something for a film just like this one. And he was twitter’s white boy of the month, something he is way too proud of. Like, he can’t even remember his twitter password, so why the fuck does he keep bring it up?

It’s really late and dark and a little cold. They’re sharing a fuzzy blanket because they could only find one and they both wanted it and when someone on set suggests they just share it neither could come up with an actual argument as to that’s a bad idea.

“You know,” he says, sort of out of nowhere, “my sister watched your show. I think she might be in love with you.”

“Oh,” Allie says, and she’s smiling at him. Not for the first time because, sadly, because he is way too funny for his own good. It’s upsetting. It’s not fair. “So, unlike you, she has taste?”

He scoffs, but he’s smiling too, very brightly. Maybe she doesn’t need the blanket. “I never said I didn’t like your show.”

She stares over at him, not trying to mask that look of surprise taking over her face. She’s just trying to picture him actually watching the show… and it’s not easy. It was a Disney show. It was stupid and immature and Harry fuckingBingham was most definitely not its target audience. She’s trying to picture him watching those commercials, the ones where she’d draw the logo with the fake wand.

Finally, she says: “Honestly, I wasn’t a huge fan of it.”

Harry lets out this light sort of snort, more an exhale than anything else. “Why’d you do it then?”

Allie shrugs. “It was a job. It was an opportunity. It was a chance that wasn’t gonna pass up just because I didn’t think it was some revolutionary thing.” She pauses, wrapping herself up just a little tighter in the blanket. “My family moved out here after I got the job. I was fourteen, and they gave up everything just so I could do this.”

“You’re good at this, Pressman,” he tells her, softly, and it’s stupid how much those words mean to her.

“Thanks, Harry.”

When they’re called back onto set, she swears his eyes linger a second longer than they probably should. That means something to her too.

They film a kissing scene in the rain, and she swears her heart stop for a half-a-second.

The director yells cut, and Allie can’t help it, the way she’s blinking up at him, a bit like he hung the stars in the sky, or whatever other sappy bullshit you feel when you start to realize—

It just didn’t feel fake for a moment there. On Disney, everything felt fake. She’s just not used to things being this natural.

(There are two fuzzy blankets waiting for them off set. They still share.)

Shooting ends on a Tuesday, and they fly back down to LA together on a studio provided jet.

Harry spends the flight tossing popcorn at her while she tries to watch Notting Hill.

“You’re being obnoxious, Bingham,” she says, one earbud out, turning to glare over at him.

He grins. “Just trying to keep you from falling in love with Hugh Grant.”

“Not possible. I’m already in love with him.”

“He’s old now.”

“Still hotter than you.”

“Not possible.”

“Verry possible.”

He scoffs. “And living vicariously through Julia Roberts isn’t healthy.”

“Oh, you know from experience, don’t you?”

“I actually met her once, at the Oscars.”

“God, everything with you always comes back to that Oscar nomination, doesn’t it, Bingham.”

He lets out this sharp, surprised laugh. She bites back a smile.

“I’ll introduce you to her one day,” he offers, it’s softer, more genuine than cocky. They’ve never talked about any sort of future, any sort of friendship that follows them past this film. Her breath catches in her throat. Her heart stops once again.

“I think I’d like that.”

She has a tiny guest part on some broadcast television sitcom. Craft services has those chocolate croissants. She wraps herself up in a fuzzy blanket and eats three.

She asks Harry if he’d want to grab coffee sometime.

He texts back yes almost immediately.

She wraps herself up just a little tighter.

She sits on the couch in Harry’s childhood home and watches her Disney show with his little sister.

“You’re even prettier in person,” Sarah tells her, almost unabashedly, and Allie blushes a light pink.

From beside her, Harry grins. “The Bingham’s have taste,” he says, his voice almost a whisper in her ear, and that makes her blush a dark pink.

“Sarah’s my favorite Bingham,” Allie announces, and the girl smiles and laughs and leans her head on Allie’s shoulder.

This feels a lot like family, she realizes, the soft familiarity of it all.

She likes it. She likes it a lot.

The morning Oscar nominations are announced, she wakes up beside him in his bed, wearing an old shirt of his, something warm and soft.

They lay in bed and eat chocolate croissants and wait for the call. And the sun hasn’t even risen yet—it’s so fucking early—but there’s something like adrenaline keeping her awake. God, it’s so stupid to be this attached to an award, a little statue that means practically nothing, but…

Harry lays his head in her lap. She plays with his hair.

“And if I don’t get nominated?” she asks, softly, carefully.

He stares up at her. “Then you find another script to fall in love with and do it all over again.”

“And if I do get nominated?”

“Then we figure out how to sneak snacks in the Dolby Theater and you write into your acceptance speech what an amazing guy I am.”

She’s laughing as the phone rings, and he’s sitting up to answer it. And then he’s smiling, smiling so wide, and that means—

Allie’s crying and beaming, and Harry’s holding onto her like he’s trying to keep her anchored, trying to keep her from floating away, and—

It feels a whole lot like everything was worth it.

She’s happy.

send me song lyrics and a pairing and i’ll write you a drabble

#the society #drabble #hallie #yeah. i also don't really know what this is #a disney au?#actors au #idk i'm just complete shit at properly addressing prompts #also. it hit me while writing this that WE'LL NEVER KNOW HARRY'S SISTER'S NAME #and that hurts

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sunsetovergatlon · 4 years

Text

ALRIGHT, day 2 #nobellweek high-school AU.

Did this stay Nobell? Maybe not. Does it have Nobell? Absolutely. Does it have Osby? Also yes.

Wc: 4,771 (oops)

Dancing Next to You

A football game was the last place Nova wanted to be tonight. It wasn’t even a home game. The fans here were loud, the stands were packed, and our team was full of jerks who thought it was fun to break girls hearts. Why did people care so much about football where there were good sports like MMA and rugby out there?

Yet, here she was. At the football game. Asking herself why she had let Oscar drag her all the way out here.

The two were sitting near the front of the middle set of bleachers which just so happened to be right in front of the cheer squad. Nova rested her elbow on her knee and put her head on her propped fist.

“Dude, lighten up! What’s your problem? We got asked here by Ruby and all you have done is mope,” Oscar said lightly hitting Nova in the leg with his cane.

“Correction, you got invited by Ruby and dragged me along too.”

“Well, sorry for trying to make you have a good time!”

“I have plenty of good times!” Nova shot back straightening back up.

At that moment the team, unbeknownst to Nova, did something good because the stands erupted with noise as everyone clammored to their feet and started cheering. Well, everyone but Nova.

She looked over at the scoreboard and saw the second quarter had just started and decided it would be as good a time as any to go grab a snack. Oscar would be getting hungry soon and she knew that he would rather be hangry than miss one second of watching Ruby, but Nova did not want to deal with a hangry Oscar tonight.

So she stood up and tapped Oscar on the shoulder,

“I’m going to get something to eat. How many things of Nachos do you want?”

“Three,” Oscar said ducking his head around to be sure he got a good view of Ruby.

“Right, four, got it,” Nova said on the brink of a smile.

Oscar beamed up at her, “you know me so well!”

Nova rolled her eyes and then pulled up her hood, making the trek through the crowds down to the sidewalk. A few people bumped into Nova as she tried to snake her way around loiterers close to the field, but she just ignored them and kept walking.

The less people that recognized her, the better.

After a few minutes of walking Nova made it to the snack bar. The line was short and she ended up being only the third person in line. As she walked up to the window Nova noticed a few of the workers staring at her and whispering.

She furrowed her brows and tried her best to ignore them, but she could feel her cheeks turning pink anyway.

“Can I help you?” Nova had been so focused on the two guys in the back she hadn’t even noticed the girl waiting to take her order. She tried to smile, but it looked more like a lopsided grin. The girl behind the counter did not seem impressed.

“Um, I’ll have five orders of nacos, two large cokes, a water, and a bag of skittles, actually make that three bags of skittles.”

The girl aggressively punched something into the register and looked back up, her cold brown eyes and pointed expression boring holes into Nova. Still, she couldn’t help but notice how the girls golden dreadlocks lit up her flawless dark complexion. Even in the horrible stadium lights.

“Twenty dollars is your total. Cash or card,” the cashier spat through clenched teeth.

“Oh, cash,” Nova responded flustered. Why was this girl being so rude and arrogant? Nova had never met her before ever and yet she was acting like somehow Nova had insulted her ancestors by robbing their graves or something.

Nova stepped off to the side to wait for her order and saw that now all the other girls in the booth were stealing glances in her direction and whispering and a few people in the line had started to take notice too.

Part of Nova had hoped that no one would recognize her, but she knew that wouldn’t be happening any time soon. She wiped her mouth and cheeks just to be sure they were not actually just laughing at her for having something stuck on her face and then pulled her hood down further to cover as much of her as possible while walking toward the fence by the field. Nova didn’t understand how the game worked, nor did she care, but it was the only thing to look at.

“Nova? Nova Artino is that you!”

She internally groaned a little at the thought of having to talk to a fan right now, but slowly Nova turned to the side to see a tall boy with chocolate skin and a giant grin on his face bounding toward her. To Nova’s relief she instantly recognized him as Adrian Everhart, adopted son of two of the biggest names in tech and one of Nova’s favorite people. The two had been close friends since preschool when their respective guardians had them in the same ‘robotics for tots’ program.

“Adrian!” Nova said before she paused a moment, realizing something was different, “you’re wearing a t-shirt!” Nova had always known Adrian to wear long sleeve button downs to cover his tattoos, but now he was just in a plain grey t-shirt. It looked good on him. Like really good. It took the edge off his ever intimidating look and made him look younger maybe? Nova hadn’t ever really noticed before, but he was really handsome

“Yeah I am!” he laughed, running his fingers over one of the forearm tattoos he had.

“You look great,” Nova said smiling and looking at Adrian’s smile that was just wide enough you could see his dimples, “you have no idea how good it is to see a friendly face, but, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you here?”

He kept right on smiling, “I’m just here to help run the snack bar, otherwise I would be home. Oh! And one of my best friends from here at school got roped into being in the marching band show this year, so i’m excited to see that!” He bounced a little in excitement before stopping and lightly punching Nova in the arm, “the real question is what are you doing here? You hate crowds.”

“Oscar dragged me against my will. That’s really cool about,” Nova was cut off by her name being shouted over the noise of the game.

“NOVA ARTINO! Your order is ready!”

Nova looked back over at the snack bar and saw that all of the people in the area had turned their gaze in her direction, except the one girl at the register who was still in a huff.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you are kind of a celebrity now aren’t you?” Adrian laughed. Nova did not.

“I don’t think that I should be,” she quietly spat over her shoulder as she gingerly walked over to grab her food and run away. Being in the spotlight always made Nova uncomfortable so she tended to deny and ignore it, but a gaggle of douches staring at her and bystanders not so secretly snapping pictures for their stories definitely made that really hard. Nova tried to not make eye contact with any of them as she slid her tray of food and drinks off the counter, but foolishly forgot they could still talk to her even if she didn’t look at them. And they did.

“So, Nova! What are you doing here?” the girl by the drinks piped up as she was just about to slip away into the crowd back to Adrian.

“Oh, um, watching the game,” Nova said with a quick smile and tried to turn around and run to a part of the stadium that her name had not been yelled for all to hear.

“Wait! Here, take this too!” A boy leaned out of the window to hand Nova a hot dog.

“Oh thanks, that’s really sweet, but I can’t, I didn’t,” but before she could even reject the offer the girl from the register stormed over pulling the boy inside.

“Narcissa, she has to pay for that.”

“Well, I’ll pay for it for her.”

“Why would you do that! She’s an arrogant jerk that hasn’t done anything for you!”

“Have you seen her work? Just existing is doing something for me!”

The two of them kept arguing and Nova took the opportunity to slip away without causing any more of a scene. Plus the one girl was being really rude and she didn’t feel like dealing with hate comments at the moment.

Nova made her way back over to Adrian who was still waiting by the fence around the field.

“If you got some time, you could come back to the stands with me. I need to get these nachos to Oscar and I’m not sure if I can handle any more of his pining after Ruby by myself,” Nova said as she slid into the open spot next to Adrian.

“Oscar really dragged you here to watch Rubt with him?” he asked slowly.

“Yeah, he’s got it really bad,” Nova responded in a nonchalant tone.

“Well, I guess I don’t have anything else to do!” Adrian smiled as they turned and walked back towards the seats.

They made it back to Oscar in the stands without any more incidents of recognition and settled in for the rest of the game. Apparently Adrian had worked setup and the first quarter and so he was off for the night, but wanted to stay to help clean up after anyway because that’s the kind of person he was. Oscar finally peeled his eyes off Ruby long enough to notice Nova was back with Adrian and Nachos in tow.

“If I wasn’t so in love with someone else right now, I could kiss you,” Oscar jested as he grabbed the tray from Nova’s hands. She just rolled her eyes and settled herself between Oscar and Adrian.

After a while of munching on nachos and skittles Nova pulled out her phone to check and had about 500 new notifications. No doubt new pictures she had been tagged in and a bunch of new messages from people in the area. With a sigh Nova shoved her phone back in its pocket pocket and turned her attention back to my recently acquired snack.

Nova had just taken a bite of the glorious golden gooey goodness when Oscar elbowed her in the ribs,

“We would love to come, right Nova?” he said, glaring at her for not paying attention to their conversation.

“Come where?” Nova spit out through my mouthful of nachos.

“To the 5th quarter tonight at Narcissa’s house! When do we ever get to hang out, no pressure? Plus Oscar could invite Ruby too,” Adrian said staring at Nova with the biggest puppy dog eyes she had ever seen a teenage boy manage to conjure up. Oscar was staring at her with the ‘if you say no I will kill you’ look, and between the two of them it didn’t seem like going home after the game was in the cards this time.

“Yeah I guess we can go for a bit.”

Not one fiber of Nova’s being wanted to go anywhere near a party at Narcissa’s house, who she assumed was the boy who had tried to give her the hot dog earlier, but Nova was a push over. So now she was stuck.

Half-time was finally upon them and Nova was actually interested to see the marching band show. Adrian said that his friend from school was in it which meant that Nova might actually get to see something worthwhile tonight and the trip wouldn’t be a total waste after all!

The band got busy setting the pit and then scurrying to their places around the field. They were actually in a really good spot to see, which made it easy for Nova to find where the colorguard was standing and the other dancers with them. The costumes were well designed with shimmering colors to catch the eye and had great freedom of movement. Then Nova noticed who was actually in the costumes, the guy and one of the girls Nova had never met, but the third she recognized as the girl from the cash register. The girl who had stared daggers into Nova’s very soul.

She could barely hear Oscar and Adrian chatting as she zeroed in on the girl. Noticing things that she had not earlier when all Nova could focus on was her big dark brown eyes. She had her blond dreadlocks pulled back in a bun and beautiful dark skin tone. Her curves were deep and her hips rounded perfectly.

As soon as the show started Nova couldn’t take her eyes off of the girl. The way she moved was effortless and beautiful. She had so much passion for her craft in every little moment; from jaw dropping tricks to the way she moved her hand to continue a line. It was mesmerizing.

As the show moved forward there was a partner routine with her and the guy who was there and it almost made Nova laugh. He moved like an elephant compared to her and when he did any sort of lift or trick there was no sign of anything but exhaustion on his face. Despite how awful he was, it still made something bubble up inside Nova every time he touched the other girl. She deserved a better partner.

They moved on from that awful romance section finally and shortly the program came to a close. Once the girl had cleared the field Nova blinked a few times and looked over at Oscar and Adrian who were both staring right at her.

“Um, can I help you?” she questioned at their wide-eyed faces.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Oscar asked her point blank. He had always been rather blunt, but it was still rude.

“What do you mean? My face is fine! Unless my blue eyes magically turned brown. Which is unlikely,” Nova shot back.

“Nova, you were glued to the field that entire time with your mouth open,” Adrian clarified for me.

“Oh, I, um, well,” she really didn’t have any idea what to say, which wasn’t a new thing, but she was beyond flustered at the moment.

“Yeah, your face is bright red my dude, did you like something you saw out there?” Oscar wiggled his eyebrows at Nova and her heart dropped into her feet.t.

“Of course I did! I love watching… um, dancing.” Nova’s lie was not particularly convincing and they all knew it, but thankfully neither of them questioned her anymore.

The next two quarters came and went and Nova could hear Adrian and Oscar chatting away beside her the entire time.

After most of the crowds left, Adrian went to help with clean-up telling us to meet him at the back gate in half an hour so we could all walk over together, Oscar went down to invite Ruby and Nova was alone. Technically she could have gone with either of them, but a little bit of quiet would be good for her. Nova had to get that girl out of her head and then move on with her life.

Her plans were far less successful than she had hoped and the more she tried to forget the girl and her perfect performance the less Nova actually forgot her. Finally Oscar came back with Ruby tagging along behind him and Nova couldn’t have been happier for the distraction.

“Hey Ruby! Great job out there tonight! Way to cheer us to victory,” Nova said, standing to give the black and white haired girl a hug.

“Thanks Nova! And thanks for coming too. I know Oscar dragged you, but it was still nice of you to show up,” Ruby replied with a smile.

“Well enough standing around here! We have a party to get to!” Oscar practically yelled at the two of them.

Nova took a moment to look down at her watch and realized it was three minutes till they were supposed to be meeting Adrian.

“Come on, we are gonna be late,” Nova grumbled as she started to walk.

They met up with Adrian soon after and all walked over to Narcissa’s house together which was a total of ten steps behind the field. There was already music blaring and the back gate was open so it was pretty hard to miss.

This was not Nova’s cup of tea. In fact she would have much rather been at home in the quiet winding down for the night with a computer on her lap and a hot cup of tea in her hands. Nothing could soothe the soul like hot tea. Unfortunately for her there was no tea and no quiet in sight.

Adrian led the way through the crowded house to the less crowded kitchen where there were drinks and snacks scattered about. Nova wasn’t hungry and she didn’t drink, but also didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb so she grabbed a cup and filled it up with water while everyone else was busy pouring their own drinks. Oscar and Ruby both went for some sort of beer Nova wasn’t familiar with and giggled together while they started their first round. Adrian went the classy route and poured some cheep wine into a red solo cup

They all bounded off into the distance to play beer pong or something of the sort and Nova stayed planted in the kitchen. People came and went, most too far gone already to recognize her thankfully. That was until Narcissa turned up.

"Nova? Is that you?" She squeaked in unbelief.

"In the flesh," Nova grumbled back, shoving her hands in my pockets. Narcissa’s eyes lit up like the fourth of July and she scurred closer.

"I'm your biggest fan! I can't believe you are actually here! In my house! At my party!"

"Yep. Here I am," Nova said and smiled. Her Aunty Honey would never let her out ever again if she let down a fan and so Nova had learned to fake it rather well.

"Wow. I need a drink this can't be happening," and with that Narcissa shuffled off in a stunned stooper, filling up her cup on the way out. What an odd girl.

After she left, a very drunk Oscar and Ruby and an only slightly tipsy Adrian came stumbling back. Oscar had one arm hugging Ruby’s waist tight against his side and the other dragging his cane as if it was made of lead.

“Hey Nova, wanna come dance with us?” Adrian asked.

“Yeah, that actually sounds really nice,” Nova murmured as she pulled off her hoodie. The four of them went back towards the backyard and honestly Nova was a little excited. She loved dancing. The way the music washed over a person and you could just move with it. No steps, no errors, no rules. Just you and the music.

They made it back outside and realized it was almost pitch black now that the floodlights on the field had been switched off. Nova could see general movement and the ground, but that was about it. Something about it made her stomach tighten with excitement, the thrill of dancing in the dark. No one was watching. No one even could watch.

As soon as a new song started so did Nova. The beat was so strong she could feel it in her chest and she lost herself to the movement. Two songs, maybe three, passed and Nova was in her own world until she bumped into someone. Little did she know then that nothing would ever be the same after this moment. Nova had no idea who it was, but right then it didn’t matter. They were dancing.

They moved in perfect harmony with body pressed to body. It felt like a lifetime flashed through Nova’s mind; nothing else mattered but the two of them. Her hands snaked under Nova’s shirt and she didn't even try to stop it. Every time she touched Nova’s skin it sent electricity up and down her entire body and drove even more passion into their shared ecstasy. Nova longed to find her lips and press them against her own, but she held herself back finding contentment in the other girls soft skin under her fingertips. The other girl did not find the same contentment. Before Nova could even tell what was happening, she felt warm lips on her own and the world felt like it stopped. Electricity passed through them as they fought for power, hungered for more, and it was driving Nova crazy.

The ability to let go of the pressure of being Nova Artino and dive into this feeling of pure freedom and raw lust was… exhilarating. She had completely forgotten about her frustration of having to come to this party in the first place when a voice called from the back door, “Hey Y’all! Time for truth or dare in the living room!”

The trance she had been in was quickly broken as the music was suddenly turned down and the back porch light was flipped on. Nova froze as she saw for the first time her partner. It was her. Like her.

Nova’s heart skipped a beat as the girl’s hands dropped from their place on Nova’s hips. The look of pure hatred that she had given Nova earlier plastered itself back onto her face.

“It’s you?” the girl spat, backing away from Nova.

“Yes?” Nova squeaked back, not sure what to do.

“You… you stay away from me! Everyone else may have forgotten what your family did, but I won’t. I will never forget the destruction of innocent lives. I. Hate. You. Never touch me again.” and with that the other girl turned on her heels and marched into the house.

Nova stood there dumbfounded. Unable to make her legs move. Did that girl really blame Nova for her uncle’s mistakes? Were there still people who were hurting over his actions? He was gone now… forever, and yet his actions still haunted Nova, trapping her in an inescapable bubble.

“Nova?” she heard Adrian’s voice call from the back door, “are you okay?”

She looked up to see his face wrought with confusion, but all she could think to say did not answer his question at all.

“What’s that girl with the golden dreadlocks name?”

“Danna,” he said with a confused tone, “Danna Bell.”

“Oh,” Nova whispered as she sank to the ground.

“Okay, enough of this,” Adrian declared as he walked over and sat next to her, “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

Nova couldn’t bring herself to repeat what Danna had said to her. Not yet. Not here. So instead she just slumped over onto Adrian’s chest, staring blankly into the night. Nova had thought that she was strong enough to take the hate comments by now, but for some reason they stung even more coming from Danna. Nova had felt electric when they were together. Her Aunt Honey had always told her that ‘the flame burns the one who holds onto it as it reaches the end of its life and then there is nothing left but you, alone, burnt, standing in a pile of ashes’ but Nova had never really understood what that meant until then. Her mind flashed with memories of the night that only served to deepen her wounds. So she hadn’t been in love with Danna or anything, they had not even spoken really before, but they had still shared a moment of passion and that made the words cut Nova even deeper.

Nova realized that since Adrian had sat down he hadn’t said anything else. He didn’t push her, or hurry her, or move her, Adrian just sat there with Nova in her hurt. They must have stayed there for at least an before Nova finally found the gumption to whisper the words she had been holding onto, “I danced with Danna all night, but as soon as the lights turned on she blindsided me with blame for what my uncle did and left.”

Nova felt Adrian’s steady breathing catch as she finally managed to get the words out. She knew how angry people who still looked down on Nova for her uncle’s choices made him, and yet it still lit a little spark of joy in her. He had been there for her through everything and never backed down from telling someone to shove off when they accosted her. From when the truth came out about her uncle and her world came crashing down, to when she finally rebuilt everything her father had worked so hard to create and the world looked at in her awe.

“Well then Danna is an idiot,” Adrian replied frankly before taking a deep breath and continuing, “Nova, you are the strongest, smartest, most resilient person I have ever known. Anyone who can’t see past your family’s mistakes is a fool missing out on someone who could change their life forever. I know you know how I feel about all of that, but you still deserve so much more than that. You are incredible Nova and anyone who passes up the opportunity to see that is a fool.”

At that, Nova sat up and stared at her best friend. He had never said anything like that to her before.

“Do you mean that?” she asked quietly, thanking the stars that it was still dark enough outside to cover her blush.

“Of course I do,” Adrian said lifting a hand and brushing a stray hair from Nova’s face, “you are the most important person to me and anyone who hurts you is an enemy of mine.” Her heart started to beat faster as he moved closer. Had Adrian always been this handsome? Had his lips always looked this inviting?

As they got close enough for their foreheads to touch Nova paused, looking into Adrians deep brown eyes for a moment before closing the gap between their lips. In that moment Nova felt like she was home. This kiss was gentle and knowing. It was a lifetime of memories tied up in a breathless moment. Adrian’s lips were soft and careful, soaking up her fears and letting her melt into the comfort of this intimate closeness. She felt his hand wrap around her waist as she draped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. She wanted more of him. Of the safety that his arms around her body gave and of the slowly rising heat between them, but to her surprise Adrian pulled back.

“Is something wrong?” Nova questioned, a little fearful of what his answer might be.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Adrian smiled at her, “I just don’t know if now is the right time.”

Nova rocked back onto her heels and really took in Adrian’s face. He was right. Nova was taking advantage of him to make herself feel better and they both knew it.

“Oh, yeah, maybe you’re right,” Nova said before they dropped into an awkward silence. They sat just staring at each other for an unbearably long time before Adrian broke the silence.

“I think we should probably get the other two and go. It’s late and you have had a long evening. I’ll grab our things and Oscar and Ruby and we can head out.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Nova responded as Adrian stood up and cast one more look at her before walking inside.

Nova felt like she had been steamrolled and then hung on a clothesline to dry. The difference between the moment she had shared with Danna and the one with Adrian was almost impossible to believe. One was so impersonal and filled with lust, while the other was deeply knowing and built on trust. Nova felt somehow both ripped apart and sewn back together simultaneously. She knew it was going to be a rough path for her from here on out considering her relationship with Adrian could never go back to how it was before... and yet that was okay with her. She knew that he was the right choice. Adrian had always been the one. She had wanted more from him tonight and felt completely comfortable and safe with him, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Danna’s hands on her skin.

#turnsouttagsaresupposetobefunny?#oops #failedthat #whydidthisturnnodrianyoumayask #itjustdid #dont@me #ordo #🤷‍♀️#nobellweek #nodrianalso #OSBY #renegades

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akaashishotthighs · 4 years

Text

Modern TID - Part 15

Part 14 - Part 16

Will and Jem ended up taking Tessa on a tour of places around the city they guessed she would enjoy. They walked along Hyde Park where Will refused to feed the ducks. Visited Oscar Wilde’s statue where Will made a point to recite one of his favorite Wilde poems. They took her to the British Library where she travelled through all the open floors and marvelled at all the ceiling-high bookshelves. They went to Pillars of Hercules, the pub mentioned in Tessa’s favorite Dickens novel, where they had snacks and drinks. They took a picture next to the “Manette Street” sign. Lastly, they went to Charing Cross Road, where Tessa must have entered almost ten different bookshops just to gawk at the second-hand books.

When they returned to the Institute, the name the boys gave the house that Tessa had picked up on, it was dinner time. They sat down at the table, still chatting about the day they’d had. Sophie pretended not to eavesdrop, but Tessa caught her grinning at certain things. Jessamine scowled, probably because the attentipn wasn’t on her. Henry was lost in his plate of peas and mashed potatoes. Charlotte rested against the back of her chair. a knowing look on her face.

Their chatter ded down after a while. The group all ate in silence until Charlotte cleared her throat. “Tessa, are we gonna have the pleasure of having you stay another night?”

She shook her head. “No, I must go back to my apartment.”

Will’s head whipped quickly in her direction, his curls bouncing. “What why?”

She giggled nervously. “Will, we agreed it was only for the weekend.”

“I know but...” He turned to her fully and took her hands. “Stay for the rest of the week.” She was going to say something, but Will gave her a look that asked her to wait. “Your brother is going to be away for another week, and everyone wants you to stay. Right guys?” He turned to the rest of the table.

Jem leaned on her left side. “I would like you to stay.”

Tessa smiled at him. “See!” Will exclaimed. “Sophie?”

“It’d be pretty cool if you stayed.” Sophie gave her a small smile.

“Charlotte?”

Charlotte nodded. “You have been quite a good company.”

“Henry?”

...

“Henry?”

Charlotte put her hand on his, and his eyes immediately lifted towards her. “Henry, dear, how would you feel about Tessa staying another week?”

He made a confused face. “Tessa?” Charlotte made a soft movement with her head towards Tessa. Henry turned his hazel eyes on her. “Oh! You’re new!”

She heard Jem snort next to her and had to stifle her own laugh. “Tessa Gray.” She put out a hand to him.

“Henry Branwell.” He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” She smiled brightly.

He turned to Charlotte again. “I like her. She seems nice.” With that said, he turned back to his peas and mashed potatoes, and within seconds he was lost in his own world again.

Charlotte sighed. “That’s Henry for ‘Welcome’.”

“Everyone agrees then.” Will was cut off by Jessamine.

“I didn’t give my opinion on this yet.” She crossed her arms in annoyance.

“That’s because no one asked you.” Will gave her a fake smile and turned back to Tessa as Jessamine gave a very unladylike growl. “So will you stay for the rest of the week?”

Tessa worried at her bottom lip. Her brother was away, and she really did want to stay. “Fine, I’ll stay.” Will gave himself a fist bump in celebration. “But I still have to go to apartment.”

“Why?” He asked, the celebratory look leaving his eyes.

“I don’t have anymore clothes.” She blushed.

He chuckled. “We’ll go get some more tomorrow morning.”

“Are all of your clothes as horrifying to look at as those?” Jessamine asked, her nose twitching in disgust as she inspected Tessa’s old t-shirt and jeans.

“Apparently.” Tessa’s smile dropped onto a frown.

“Don’t bother getting your clothes then. You clearly need a makeover. Tomorrow, we go shopping.” The blonde gave small claps and squealed. “We’ll have an all-girls day! Get real close and personal.”

Charlotte waved her hand negatively right away. “I can’t. Benedict already has a stack of paperwork planned for me tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jessamine’s flawlessly drawn pink lips formed a straight line. “Just us then.”

Sophie leaned forward, an excited smile in her face. “I know this great store that always has the prettiest bargains...”

“I’m sorry, who invited you?” Jessamine interrupted. As quickly as the smile had appeared on Sophie’s face, it vanished altogether.

“Jessamine!” Charlotte scolded.

She threw her hands up. “I just assumed she’d be too busy... dusting.” The word hit Sophie like a slap, and the look on Jessamine’s dool-like eyes said that was precisely what she had intended.

“It’s alright. Jessamine is right. I’m too busy.” She got up, not sparing a glance at anyone in the table. She kept her hazel eyes locked on her plate. “I’m going to go see if Bridget has finished dessert.” She left swiftly, but her steps were heavy with pain.

Tessa looked behind her, tracing all of Sophie’s steps. When the other girl disappeared into the kitchen, she turned back to the table and caught Jessamine’s cold gaze fixed on her. “Just you and me.” Tessa felt a chill go down her spine.

“I’ll go too.” Will shrugged.

Jessamine’s golden mane whipped with force as she look pointedly at Will. “What why?”

“Jem needs new clothes, and we both know what a terrible fashion sense he has.”

“It’s true, I have horrible taste in clothes,” Jem whispered in her ear. He straightened up. “I should probably go as well. To try out the things that Will picks out.”

Jessamine huffed. “Fine.” Her attention on them was lost as she went into rambling about something utterly ridiculous that had happened to her during the day.

Under the table, Tessa poked a hand of each boy with her nails. They both turned to her. She mouthed ‘thank you’ and heard them both chuckle. Will leaned closer to her and kissed the side of her head. Jem leaned in on her other ear and whispered. “You’re welcome. newbie.”

#modern tid #tessa gray #will herondale #jem carstairs #jessamine lovelace #sophie collins #charlotte branwell #henry branwell #benedict lightwood #bridget daly #wessa #jessa #heronstairs #herongraystairs #chenry #the infernal devices #the shadowhunters chronicles #tid #tsc

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rapeculturerealities · 4 years

Link

Dee Rees was waiting outside a discreet home on a quiet street in Los Angeles on a warm day in June, wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Arrest the President.” She led the way past her fragrant jasmine bushes, past a kidney-shaped pool, past a Great Dane the size of a tween into an intimate guesthouse that had been converted into a music studio. The walls were painted dark blue and nearly every spare inch of wall and floor held equipment: Fender guitars, synths, amps, speakers and keyboards. The floor was covered by so many power cords that they resembled an area rug. A recording of an off-key voice earnestly singing was playing loudly on a loop. Rees shot me a pained look. “I’m not a singer,” she said.

Nearby, standing at a microphone, the singer Santigold was humming along to Ree’s voice and mimicking the undulations until she knew them by heart. The musician Ray Brady, sitting at a computer nearby, cycled through a series of drum-machine sounds until they heard one they all liked, and Santigold started singing over it. The air-conditioner was off — it interfered with the quality of the recordings — and the air was dense with humidity that no one seemed bothered by.

Rees and Santigold were recording a series of demos for a big-screen futuristic opera titled “The Kyd’s Exquisite Follies.” The screenplay, which Rees had been working on for about a year, describes the journey of a young, black androgynous musician living in a small town who sets off for “It City” in search of stardom. “An outsized, sequin-spangled, sunglassed Cosmic Being leans into frame,” reads the description for the first scene. “It is Bootsy Collins if Bootsy was simultaneously tripping on acid, André 3000 and CBD Frosted Flakes with extra sugar.” Her mood board for the project features images from the cultural festival Afropunk and a dream cast of Erykah Badu, Beyoncé, Janelle Monáe and the R&B singer Syd. The whole thing almost sounded like a fantasy incubated deep in a Twitter thread, but Rees later told me that she was inspired to combine the cultural legacy of “The Wiz” with the grandeur of the “Star Wars” franchise to create a kid-friendly movie as canonical as her reference points. “I was like, ‘Where’s “The Wiz” for us, for our kids, for queer kids?’ ” she said.

Rees has been working toward this moment for nearly 10 years, assuredly moving from indie films into blockbuster cinema with the hope of establishing a creative freedom few directors attain. She is placing a thick spread of bets, in the hope that she will soon be able to play as boldly as she wants. Legacy, she told me, is her ultimate goal: “I want to create work that matters and lasts.”

At 43, Rees has already had the type of success that will outlast her. In 2011, she released her first feature film, “Pariah,” a lush coming-of-age drama about a young black woman named Alike grappling with both her sexuality and the world’s response to it. The movie won more than a dozen awards, including, most notably, the N.A.A.C.P. Image Award for Outstanding Motion Picture. Last year, the movie was included on IndieWire’s list of best films of the past decade, along with “Moonlight,” “Carol,” and “Call Me by Your Name” — movies that also feature queer narratives, though it’s worth noting that “Pariah” came out years before them. In 2017, she released her next feature film, “Mudbound,�� a drama about the lives of a black family and a white family working the same plot of land in Mississippi in the 1940s. It garnered four Oscar nominations, including Best Adapted Screenplay, making her the first black woman to be nominated in the category. Her latest project, opening on Feb. 14 before streaming on Netflix, is her most Hollywood yet: Starring Anne Hathaway, Willem Dafoe and Ben Affleck, “The Last Thing He Wanted” is an adaptation of the 1996 Joan Didion novel about an American journalist investigating illicit arms sales to Central America during the Reagan administration. It is Rees’s attempt to demonstrate her range across scale, genre and star power.

But here in Los Angeles, her deepest professional desire was underway. Rees had already secured a producer for “Follies” in her longtime collaborator, Cassian Elwes, as well as a costume designer. Lucasfilm’s Industrial Light and Magic had signed on to create the visual effects. The next stage of the process was to produce a music sample that could be played for potential financiers, studio partners and distributors, to generate excitement for the project.

The main song she and Santigold were working on that afternoon was a duet between the hero, the Kyd, and an unseen entity offering support from afar. “The intention here is that the Universe is accompanying her, and she doesn’t realize it,” Rees informed the room, using her hands to show two entities orbiting around each other, the smaller one oblivious to the larger one. She described the song as a ballet, with choreography. The Universe is not a metaphor, she explained; it’s an actual character, a guiding light and love interest, which she imagined being played by Erykah Badu. The song lyrics included melancholic lines like “It was easier when no one was looking” and “People see you as they need you to be.”

Santi, as everyone in the room called her, finished singing one part and began recording another, in a lower intonation to indicate a different voice. She and Rees were building out the bones of a pivotal point in the narrative: The Kyd is reflecting on the isolation, loneliness and self-doubt that accompany a rise to stardom — feelings that Rees teased out from her own life experiences as a young director. They worked intently for nearly an hour this way, playing keyboard, looping drums, recording Santigold as she sang both parts, then pausing to get feedback. When Rees wasn’t feeling something, it was obvious: She remained silent but shook her head “no.” When she liked something, she bounced in her seat and offered affirmations like “that’s hot.”

Watching the two women work, I realized that Rees didn’t just have an idea for music, she had created an entire universe, writing all the songs, arranging the melodies and constructing a 3-D model in her head of the sets and landscape. To her, composing compelling songs and comedy numbers while grabbing milk at the bodega comes as effortlessly as directing some of the biggest actors working in Hollywood. Despite that, the biggest question about her career now is whether Hollywood will allow her the longevity she craves.

“I know this character,” Rees said at one point about the Kyd, though she might have been talking about her own journey as an artist so far. “That feeling of being trapped, wanting to be an artist, knowing the odds are against you and doing it anyway.”

A few weeks later, Rees was sitting in a small coffee shop in Harlem, not far from where she lives with her wife, the author Sarah M. Broom, who recently won a National Book Award for her memoir, “The Yellow House.” Rees had been stationed there for a while, talking to other regulars, reading the short-story collection “Heads of the Colored People,” by Nafissa Thompson-Spires, and working on her laptop. Rees is a minimalist: Everything about her has an understated elegance, from the twists in her hair to the black and camo Jordans that she likes to wear. That day, she was dressed in a tailored white-and-pink-dotted button-down shirt and carrying a backpack.

Rees told me that people often describe her success in the film industry as overnight, which feels dismissive of the years she spent hustling for “Pariah” and glosses over the years that she struggled to sell pilots and feature films since then. “I’ve spent 12 years slugging away,” she said. She’s quick to point out that most of her work has not made it to market.

Rees said her strategy is to work on “five things at once and see which one sticks.” Each time we talked, she was working on a new project. Once it was a television show about a black police officer in the South, set in the 1970s. Another time it was a potential collaboration with a black playwright. This is both a survival tactic designed to navigate the ever-changing tides of a mercurial entertainment industry and perhaps also a defense mechanism: better not to get too attached to a project that doesn’t get picked up. The gap years after “Pariah” taught her to be strategic.

“For me, everything still comes with a grain of salt,” she said. “I never trust if it’s going to happen until you see a grip truck pulling up.” Many black women who make a compelling, noteworthy debut never manage to make a second feature — think of Julie Dash or Leslie Harris, whose names you might not know but who are responsible for, respectively, the indie films “Daughters of the Dust” and “Just Another Girl on the I.R.T.” “It seemed like people wondered if that was a fluke,” she said about “Pariah.” After “Mudbound,” she felt that question of her directorial ability has been answered. “Now it’s just about, How much do I get to do?”

From Rees’s vantage, this is the time to be working as quickly and furiously as she possibly can to get all of her dream projects off the ground — not just “Follies” but also a lesbian horror film she plans to write with her wife and a sci-fi graphic novel that she can eventually adapt for the screen. “It’s a creator’s market,” she told me. “There are more canvases, and not just feature films. You can work online, you can make different kinds of TV. You can make your thing, and they’ll come to you.”

Rees was referring, in part, to streaming services, specifically Netflix, which financed and is distributing “The Last Thing He Wanted.” Over the past five years, Netflix has done the same for hundreds of original shows and movies, many of which are critically acclaimed and attract as much attention and accolades than the offerings from traditional movie studios. In 2019, Netflix released 60 films, and analysts estimate the company spends more than $8 billion on original content a year. “We’re not a 100-year-old studio or own intellectual property like Disney does,” Scott Stuber, the head of films at Netflix, told me. “We don’t have an archive or a library, so it’s very important strategically to get in business with filmmakers like Dee, Alfonso Cuarón, Martin Scorsese, and that is our differentiator.” Netflix’s elbowing into Hollywood has propelled other companies to follow suit, including Disney, Hulu, Apple and Amazon, all of which now produce exclusive streaming content. Netflix’s dominance is likely to be challenged in the coming years, but the company has already reshaped consumer standards, including the expectation that people can watch high-quality, Oscar-worthy first-run entertainment from the comfort of their couch.

To stay competitive, traditional studios now have to pay attention to what those services are doing and try to beat them at their own game. Many of the directors making the best material are coming from the indie world, Rees reminded me: Ryan Coogler, Ava DuVernay, Barry Jenkins. “And it’s not because of altruistic reasons but because of moneymaking reasons,” she said. “Studios are realizing it’s profitable to keep their eyes open. Netflix forced the rest of the industry to take more risks. The advantage for filmmakers is that they’re making it impossible for the rest of the industry to be dismissive or willfully ignorant, and they make the industry consider films and filmmakers that they might not have considered.”

Rees also pointed out the desire for content aimed specifically at black consumers, noting that studio heads and industry leaders were finally paying attention to the black appetite: “We’re the consumers and we’re the producers. And we’re saying: No more ‘Green Book.’ We’re not interested in that.” Though Rees tends to avoid social media and the internet, she sees them as levers for this radical change. “The gatekeepers can still modulate production, but they can’t modulate awareness in the same way,” she told me. “With that awareness comes a hunger, and it sustains a stable of artists.”

In the 1970s, Rees’s parents bought a home in a largely white neighborhood in Nashville. Her father was a police officer; her mother, a scientist at Vanderbilt University. When I first asked Rees to describe her childhood, she told me it was a “typical, boring suburban experience.” She was an only child who liked to lose herself in video games, “Garfield” comics and Choose Your Own Adventure books. The family was solidly middle class. “At the grocery store, it was my job to hold the calculator and calculate the grocery bill as we went along,” Rees recalled fondly.

But Rees’s “typical” childhood also included anecdotes about growing up adjacent to white people who questioned her family’s presence in their midst. Neighbors hung Confederate flags as curtains. Kids toilet papered their trees, prank rang the doorbell, ripped up the roses that her mother planted in a wagon wheel. People regularly tossed garbage in their yard as they drove or walked by. “It was my job to pick up that trash,” Rees said. “They always seemed to be looking at us like, ‘How can you be here, how can you have more than us?’ ” Rees’s father often parked his police car outside their home to “let people know not to [expletive] with us,” Rees said. “You were constantly bracing for it, preparing for it and trying not to let it provoke you, as it was meant to do.” These incidents, and the questions about belonging they raised, can be felt in all her films.

Rees graduated in 2000 from Florida A&M University with a master’s degree in business administration and worked in marketing for a series of health and beauty companies. Rees envisioned herself as Marcus Graham, one of the young black advertising professionals in the movie “Boomerang.” “I really thought I’d be working with people like Strangé,” she said, referring to the eccentric Grace Jones character who gives birth to a perfume bottle in a cosmetics commercial. None of the jobs lasted more than a year, but the detour was productive: She went on a commercial shoot for a client, Dr. Scholl’s, and followed the production assistant around out of curiosity. She was energized watching the work, prompting her to reconsider her career trajectory. She was accepted to New York University’s graduate film program in 2003.

Rees had never been to art school or even touched a camera. “I had no idea what I was doing,” she said. She struggled with the assignments, which often consisted of making short film experiments. “I failed and I failed hard,” she recalled. Her professors seemed to pay more attention to the better students. “It felt like an instant divestment of interest.” By the second semester, she was considering dropping out. “On the first day, they told us that ‘only two of you will make it,’ ” she said. “And I was not the one who seemed like they were going to make it. I was like, ‘This is a waste, it’s so expensive, I shouldn’t do this.’ ” At 27, she worried that she was too old to start a new career.

Rees confessed all her fears and insecurities to her girlfriend at the time, who told her: “O.K., so there’s only going to be two of you. That means you and who else?” The pep talk helped, as did the support from a few professors, including Spike Lee, who has served as the film program’s artistic director for nearly two decades. Lee was impressed by Rees’s storytelling abilities and her eye, which already felt uniquely her own — rare for anyone, but especially students. “In my experience, very few people have a style right off the jump,” he told me recently. “It’s something that you develop over time, and she had it. I never had any doubts about her being successful. I could see that she was going to do what she had to do to get where she wanted to get.”

She felt her work began to click when the assignments moved into documentary. “That is when I found myself and found my voice,” she told me. She took a trip to Liberia with her grandmother and the budding cinematographer Bradford Young. “It just felt like no one was looking, and I felt confident and was able to make the doc.” That film, “Eventual Salvation,” tells the story of her 80-year-old grandmother, Earnestine Smith, as she travels to Monrovia, where she lived for decades, and confronts the aftermath of a devastating civil war.

She loved imagining herself into the shoes of her subjects. “It helped me be a better director, because I could see that ‘Oh, if I’d gotten this shot, it would be a better dynamic, better storytelling through body language.’ ” Rees’s graduate thesis was a short film called “Pariah,” and the strength of the script landed her at Sundance Labs to incubate the short into a feature. Lee offered guidance, and Young, still unknown, drenched the film in the shimmering, richly colored patinas that he would later use in movies like “Arrival” and “Selma.”

While at N.Y.U., Rees shortened her name from Diandréa to Dee. She was establishing a boundary between herself and the world that to this day feels as if it safeguards her personal life. She was coming out as a lesbian, which at first, her parents chalked up to an “art-school thing,” Rees said. But once they realized she was truly in love with a woman, they imploded. Her mother came to New York to try to stage an intervention. Her father was embarrassed. “Nashville is superconservative and small, and I guess word was getting around,” Rees said. Neither parent spoke to her for some time, but both came to see a screening of “Pariah” in New York in 2011. The support in the room eased their worries, as did the affiliation with Sundance. “My life wasn’t a wreck, which somehow made it more acceptable for them,” Rees said.

A common theme threading through Rees’s projects is the way the world places limits on people and whether that destroys or liberates them. The moments in her movies at which her characters confront that existential dilemma are often extremely subtle, but powerful nonetheless. In “Bessie,” the 2015 HBO movie Rees made about the blues singer Bessie Smith, we see how Smith rebels against societal expectations in her sexual fluidity, hard drinking and even in her confrontation with the Ku Klux Klan at one of her shows. But the moment that is most revealing is Smith, played by Queen Latifah, sitting fully nude at a vanity, her body shining with oil, seeing herself surrounded by the trappings of fame but ultimately alone and aging. She’s facing the choices she has made and seemingly deciding whether she’ll make different ones tomorrow. In “Pariah,” it’s the spark of possibilities reflected in young Alike’s eyes as she watches a dancer slide down a pole to Khia’s pleasure anthem “My Neck, My Back” in a gay nightclub.

What is striking about Rees’s work is that even though none of her movies are explicitly autobiographical, she still finds ways to channel her life experiences into them. Embedded in “Mudbound,” for example, is the experience of her great-grandparents, who picked cotton, but it also reflects the amorality of racial violence and how a country can fight against it in a war, while still perpetuating it at home. At the center of “The Last Thing He Wanted” is a father-daughter relationship complicated by guilt and obligation, but it’s also a thriller whose main character is determined to expose government corruption.

Rees realized early in her career that as a female director working in Hollywood, she wouldn’t have the same liberty as, say, Richard Linklater or Noah Baumbach to explore the details of her life onscreen. Rees made compromises so that she could still work on the themes that interested her most. “When I first started out, I was like, ‘I’m not going to do adaptations,’ ” she told me. “I only want to do my own stuff, but I quickly realized that I couldn’t survive because of the time it takes to get people to want to do your original thing.”

In 2014, Cassian Elwes, a longtime Hollywood veteran who has produced such films as “Lee Daniels’ The Butler” and “Dallas Buyers Club,” found himself horrified after reading about the extreme gender imbalance prevalent in Hollywood movie making. Dr. Stacy L. Smith, a communications professor at the University of Southern California at Annenberg, has found that less than 5 percent of major Hollywood movies were directed by women. People of color were also dramatically underrepresented. (Those numbers have not fluctuated significantly in the years since.) Elwes was similarly shocked to read that most young white male directors make their sophomore projects not long after their first; most women of color take years. Many of them, unable to support themselves during that gap, give up.

Around this time, two young producers brought Elwes the script for “Mudbound.” He fell in love with it, and his mind drifted to “Pariah,” which he’d seen at Sundance. Elwes sent Rees the script. A few years earlier, Rees had wanted to adapt the novel “Home,” by Toni Morrison, to explore the paradox of freedom for black Americans returning home from overseas; now she realized she could inject that desire into “Mudbound.”

“He was the first producer who was just like, ‘It’s yours,’ ” Rees recalled. “It wasn’t exploitative or like you should be grateful. He was like, ‘Whatever you want to do, let’s work it out.’ He’s believed more in me than some producers of color.”

A movie like “Mudbound” could easily be saturated with simplistic Hollywood narratives about the resilience of black people and the restorative power of interracial friendships. But Rees was not afraid to show a world where some white people are evil and none will save the black characters. Rees first impression of the script was that it was “a little too sweet.” It featured music as the balm easing tension between the two families. Rees wrote more scenes explicitly featuring the Jackson family, including one around a dinner table where they discuss their dreams of purchasing their own parcel of land, only to be interrupted by the white landowner, who demands they come unload his truck. The film finds its own emphatic language for the spectral horror of white violence in America through quiet vignettes: The tight face of a well-dressed black man, riding in the back of a white man’s dusty pickup truck. The wet and swollen face of a white woman sobbing into the arms of a black matriarch, whose resignation and fatigue can be read in the set of her mouth.

Rachel Morrison, the film’s cinematographer, who received an Oscar nomination for the film, said she was drawn to Rees’s ability to “put the audience squarely in the main character,” she told me. For example, when filming Laura, a woman at a loss for who she is in the world, the shots feature her petite, wiry body dwarfed by the soggy terrain and gaping blue sky. Rees was “uncompromising in only the best ways,” Morrison said, in a tone rich with admiration. She recalled an instance where Rees wanted a shot looking through a screen door, from the outside world into a dark home. “It was a ton of work, balancing the bright sun and dark shadows, but I was like, ‘If it’s worth it to you, I’ll do it.’ ” It was worth it to Rees. Morrison spent close to an hour manipulating the set to capture what would amount to seconds of screen time. When Morrison saw the final cut, she realized the elegance of the shot and how beautifully it articulated the difference between the two families and the worlds they inhabit. “It’s one of my favorite shots in the film,” she said.

After they finished “Mudbound,” Rees told Elwes that she wanted to adapt the Joan Didion novel. He knew Didion’s agent and was able to option “The Last Thing He Wanted.” “We took it around to all the studios, and no one would deal with it,” she said. “Netflix jumped in and saved it. But it was hard in that way. You think because it’s Joan Didion, like, of course — but nope.”

Rees struggles not to take the studios’ lack of interest in her work personally. When I asked her how she rationalized their indifference, she took her time answering, clearly weighing how much of her inner thoughts about Hollywood she wanted to air in public, staring into her coffee all the while. “When stuff doesn’t make logical sense, to me, I go to a place where there’s only one thing that can explain this. You know what I mean?” She paused again, fiddling with her latte. “It feels like a double standard, and the double standard to me is race.”

I asked her how she coped with being so demonstrably talented as a filmmaker and yet feeling thwarted in her efforts at the same time. “The only refuge I have is to do more work, to be relentless and keep making and making, and hopefully, eventually I won’t have to continue to prove that I have the capabilities.” She felt this deeply when “Mudbound” was passed over by major studios, even though it resembled a Birney Imes photograph come to life and featured mesmerizing performances by Carey Mulligan and Rob Morgan. It eventually sold to Netflix, reportedly for $12.5 million, the largest deal to come out of Sundance in 2017. “I’ve learned to go where the love is and work with who wants to work with you,” she told me. “The thing you’re up against is not new. Since first grade, the moment you enter school, you’re up against racism. But it’s still stunning sometimes.”

What remains striking about Rees is that these challenges haven’t muted her ambition. Elwes repeatedly highlighted it. “It’s gigantic,” he said, marveling. “She could be knocking out independent movies all day long if she wanted to.” But instead, with something like “Follies,” she is trying to create a pop-cultural empire. “She’s building a world, and right now in Hollywood, most people are just making another version of a comic book or a sequel or a remake,” Elwes said. Her fearlessness and talent are why he immediately agreed to help her produce and finance her sci-fi opera after she floated the idea by him in a text message. He has been hustling to raise the $80 million or so that she needs to pull it off. “It’s not a slam dunk,” he said, “but whoever takes the risk will get the reward.”

Toward the end of our meeting at the coffee shop, Rees told me shyly — a rare mode for her — that her biggest dream is to work on a major feature-film trilogy, something even more audacious than “Follies.” “I want to have a world with a black woman at the center of it, who ends up leading a rebellion,” she said. “I want to create a whole new world rather than color in somebody else’s.” The trilogy Rees wants to build takes place in a dystopic time, a hellscape devastated by climate change and out-of-control social media where people have to meet a minimum “credit” rating in order to have a decent quality of life.

Rees hopes that “The Last Thing” will be a bridge between her past work and her larger ambitions. Unlike her previous films, “The Last Thing” is a fast-paced political thriller with car chases, shootouts and body counts that includes tight close-ups and impressionistic landscape shots. The effect is claustrophobic and dizzying — a departure from Rees’s previous, more linear work — and yet the audience remains, as Morrison reflected, squarely in the perspective of Elena McMahon, the journalist at the center of it, played by Anne Hathaway. As McMahon loses her moral compass, the viewer becomes disoriented, too, and unable to keep up with the revelations, which, at Sundance, caused many critics to pan the movie.

When I spoke with Rees by phone from Sundance, right after the first reviews came in, she sounded sanguine. Her film had been “trashed,” she said, “but I still believe in it.” Then her voice perked up as she proceeded to tell me the details of a few still unannounced deals she had inked since we last saw each other. From her perspective, it seemed, the critical response was a blip in what she plans to be a long career.

Rosie Perez, who portrays a photojournalist in “The Last Thing,” told me that the day she arrived on location in Puerto Rico to shoot the film, she immediately noticed Rees’s sharp intelligence but found her aloof. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to connect with her,” she said. When it came time to work, Rees was meticulous but hands off. She set up the scene, positioning the camera with her own hands at times, and then stepped away. “It freed us up to just act,” Perez said. “She lets you do your thing. But you have to trust that she’s doing hers, too.”

Once, after a scene, Rees called cut, and Perez asked Rees if she was sure they got the shot. “She looked at me and said, deadpan: ‘I wouldn’t have moved on if we didn’t.’ ” Perez, deep in recollection, let loose that famous laugh from deep in her nasal cavity. “I was like: ‘Got it. Let me shut the [expletive] up.’ ” Her admiration for Rees was cemented in that moment.

But that wasn’t all she got from Rees, Perez told me, recalling a scene in which she and her co-star, Anne Hathaway, are running to catch a plane, dodging gunfire. “Anne is running like Catwoman, sprinting toward the plane,” Perez said. “I felt like the older lady trying to keep up.” She mentioned this to Rees, who replied, “Well, that’s your character, isn’t it?” At first, Perez’s ego was bruised. But later, Rees told her, “I hired you because you’re a kick-ass actress and also because you have the courage to look like a grown-ass woman.” At the time, Perez was splitting her time on the set of the second season of Spike Lee’s “She’s Gotta Have It,” where she was guest-starring as Mars Blackmon’s mother. Lee didn’t want Perez to wear a lot of makeup, and Perez initially balked. But her time with Rees adjusted her priorities: “I walked onto his set, and I was like ‘O.K.’ ” Working with Rees, she said, “gave me the confidence to do that.” That, she said, was Rees’s gift. “You have to let her be who she is, in order to see what she is trying to give you.”

#Black women #workplace #misogynoir #racism #Rees #director #film #voices

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copias-thrall · 4 years

Text

DIY

(Part: 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; 6; 7; 8)

It’s been a trying day. The staffing agency had gotten you another contract, and the firm wanted to meet with you in person for some reason. Usually you’re just traded around with firms already familiar with you, and you can’t recall the last time you needed to be respectable. You tend to dye your hair when your mood changes, so the fading pink had needed to be taken care of.

“What do you care about their opinion?” Mary had said.

“This would be a little more money,” you’d shrugged. “I could get the good coffee and that mochi you like.”

“I can feed myself,” Mary had snapped.

“Then why don’t you?” you’d retorted.

He’d made a sour face at you when you’d said that.

In the end, Mary had suggested going black, and the two of you had had hair-dye day where you’d introduced Mary to the wonder of Vaseline to keep the dye off his skin.

“Look at you, making me all respectable,” he’d quipped as you’d slathered him up.

“Yes, heaven forbid you lose your coveted street cred because your ears and hairline aren’t mottled with black half the time.”

While most of the dye had ended up in your hair, a few errant blotches ended up staining the tiles and shower curtain (and, ok—the hand print on your upper arm when Mary forgot himself). Mary had called you a spoilsport when you’d refused to fuck in the shower (“What? It’s cool with all the black dye running down our bodies. Come on!”). But in the end you were rather happy with how the fresh dye made your pixie bob look sleek and polished.

Mary had scrutinized you in the mirror.

“I don’t like it. Makes you look like you’re trying too hard to be normal.”

You’d made a face at him. “Well, we can’t all work at Mickey’s and dress like Oscar the Grouch kicked us out of bed for eating crackers.”

Mary’d lightly bitten your neck. “I’m taking that as a compliment.” He’d then run his fingers through the shorter hair at the back of your head. “You’d look pretty hot with an undercut.”

“I know,” you’d said as you’d winked at him.

He’d snorted. “Modest too.”

You’d shrugged. “Getting an undercut was one of my many tiny actions of rebellion. As long as I kept my hair down, no one was the wiser.”

“They never caught you?”

You’d sighed. “They did. Bitch of thing too—a picture of the school pep rally in the monthly newsletter for parents happened to catch me in the background.”

“Shit. What happened?”

“After all the screaming about boundaries and disrespect? TThey’d shaved my whole head.”

Mary’d stilled behind you.

“They … what?”

You’d leaned into the mirror, primping your hair unnecessarily.

“Buzzed all my hair off. Said I should never do things by half measures.”

Mary’d given you a look in the mirror, so you’d just smiled brightly at him.

“It’s just hair, Mary. Beside, all my schoolmates thought I was edgy as fuck.”

He’d turned you to face him.

“I really fucking hate your parents.”

You’d just patted him on the cheek. “Why waste the energy.”

“It’s just …” he’d leaned against the washer/drier as you began to clean up. “I had to be like, 15? And I came home from a friend’s house with badly bleached hair and a safety pin through my navel. My mum was in the kitchen, and I told her I wanted to be called Viscount Doom from now on. You know what she said?”

(It was a rhetorical question.)

“She said, ‘That’s nice, dear—now take out the trash’.” He’d chuckled. “I was always her son first, you know?”

You’d slid a hand under his shirt to stick your thumb in his unadorned belly button.

“Did she make you take the safety pin out.”

Mary’d grinned at you. “Ah, well. The fucker got infected. Angry red blotches with pus and shit. I had to come clean to mum, and she bundled me off to urgent care. Whoops.”

You’d traced your thumb along his belly button, feeling now the obvious bump of scar tissue.

“So you were always fucking crusty.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he’d said as he’d crowded into you and dragged your hand down to his crotch.

The actual "chat” (they’d purposefully pussyfooted around calling it an interview) had gone fine; a girl about your age—probably an intern—had read a bunch of inane questions off a piece of paper in a monotone before a harried-looking woman came in and asked you questions surely your resume could have answered.

The firm itself, however, was a 30min walk from the bus, and about 90 more minutes including a bus transfer away from your apartment. You’d gotten up at 5am so you could leave by 6 so you weren’t late for your 9am appointment (“Jesus. Who schedules interviews for the crack of dawn?” “Sadists, that’s who.”). So, of course, you’d gotten there an hour early and—with no coffee shop in sight—you’d sat on a concrete wall across the street that bordered a parking lot.

Like a creep.

You’d then been asked to wait for another hour because “an earlier meeting was running late.” The receptionist had at least taken pity on you and brought you a steaming cup of Dunks and a chocolate doughnut.

It was noon by the time you made it out of there—which meant that there was no way you were making the 12:25pm bus. Which meant you didn’t make the 1:33pm transfer, and you had to cool your jets in a fast casual restaurant for 45min. The next bus had never shown. When you finally made it onto the transfer bus, you’d dozed off and had woken up several stops past your destination; you’d opted to just walk back to your apartment instead of waiting the questionable amount of time for the next bus in the opposite direction.

By the time you finally get back to your place, you’re limping from the blisters your cheap dress shoes had given you, and it’s nearly 4pm. When you enter your apartment, you’re surprised to see Mary on your couch, guitar in hand and scribbling down notes. At the clink of you dropping your keys into the skull ashtray that had just appeared one day, he looks up.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, sounding much more harsh than you intended as you kick off your shoes.

“Well, hello to you too. I couldn’t hear myself think at my place.” He gives you a minute shrug.

You don’t know why this irritates you.

“Well maybe think about giving me the same courtesy,” you snap as you limp toward your bedroom. “I need to lie down.”

You don’t even get changed, just untuck your pussy-bow blouse and unzip your pencil skirt before flopping down onto your bed.

“Interview not go well?” asks Mary’s from your doorframe

You wave your hand. “The interview was fine, but it was a fucking trial and a half getting there and back. Thank god I won’t be onsite.”

“Yeah. I was kind of wondering where you were.”

You just snort and start to wrestle off your nude hose, but then Mary’s kneeling there and rolling them down you. You hiss when he gets to your feet.

“Fuck, your feet are wrecked.”

“Remind me to bring flip flops or something next time.”

“K.”

He tosses your pantyhose at your laundry basket (they only half make it in), then he leans down to kiss the instep on each foot.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” he asks as his hands travel up the inside of your legs.

You lean up to look at him. “Yeah, actually. Would you?”

Mary grins at you. “Ok, baby doll.”

You lie back down as Mary begins to kiss and nip up your legs. You help him to get your panties off and to push up your skirt—then he’s diving into your folds, his tongue enthusiastically lapping at your clit. Unfortunately, you’re just too exhausted to really get into it, and Mary notices your lack of engagement. His head pops up.

“Fingers?”

“Fingers,” you agree.

He wipes off his chin with the back of his hand before climbing onto your bed. You shimmy out of your skirt before he’s rolling you onto your side. He positions himself behind you, his hand sliding down your stomach until it reaches your lips. You arch back into him at the feeling of his finger slip sliding across your sensitive clit.

“Oh yeah, Mare …”

He doesn’t tease you, just keeps up a steady motion, changing it up to avoid touch numbness. Despite your lethargy, you pant and squirm against him as your blood pools and your orgasm slowly builds. He’s been giving your neck little nips and sucks, but as you get close to blowing, Mary leans over to engage you in a wet, sloppy kiss. It ratchets your arousal, and you suck his tongue into your mouth, saliva leaking out the other side, as you begin to press back against his hand. He quickens his finger, and you cry out at the burst of pleasure. Your orgasm swells and breaks soon after, and you moan and thrash a little as Mary works you through the waves.

When you sag, sated, he gives your ear a lick, then removes his hand.

“Mmm,” is all you manage as you roll onto your stomach.

“Yeah, I know. C’mon, let’s get you out of that top.”

“No,” you say into the bed.

“Yes,” he says as he starts to tug up the hem. “You’ll thank me later.”

You just grunt at him.

He manages to get the material up to your armpits before you’re obliged to move by lifting your arms—and even then all you do is hold out your arms.

“You’re a pain in my fucking ass.”

“Mmphb.”

Through minimal effort on your part, Mary finally removes both your top and your bra before rolling you this way and that to get you under the covers. You’re asleep before he even leaves the room.

You sleep, nude, sprawled out and face mashed into your pillow. It isn’t until much later when you wake. It’s almost certainly because Mary is on all fours over you, mashing his face into your neck. You must move in some tiny way, because he stills.

“Mare,” you mumble groggily into the pillow.

“Shh,” he breaths. “Don’t. Just …” His mouth moves to your ear. “Can I?” he whispers. “I was so good earlier.”

“Mhm,” you agree sleepily.

“Stay still then,” he growls as he shifts about. “Don’t. Move.”

You feel the head of his cock enter you, and you clench and moan. Mary’s other hand is quick on your head, smashing your face further into the pillow.

“Shut up,” he hisses, then his hand is gone.

He takes the tip out, then slides it back in.

Then out.

Then in.

He teases himself like that a few more times—making pleased rumbles—before finally sliding all the way home. You bite the pillow in an effort not to twitch or make noise. The bed jostles when his balled hands land on either side of you, supporting himself up. He takes a handful of slow, smooth pumps in and out of you, making little Mmm noises. It’s a nice feeling that you relax into—silently.

He speeds up a little … and then a lot … until he’s pounding into you with such force that there's an audible slap! slap! slap! as he makes contact with your skin and your one arm is jostled slightly off the bed. Mary moans, and changes up to long, hard strokes that hit your sweet spot deliciously; you know your breaths are labored at the strain of staying motionless and quiet, but luckily, any sound you’re making is being drowned out by Mary’s grunts every time the bowl of his pelvis smacks into the meat of your ass.

You’re pretty slick from your arousal, and Mary easily pumps in and out of you. You can feel your heartbeat in your pussy—and your frustration with not being able to touch yourself increases. Mary suddenly grabs the fat on your back hard enough you almost cry out. He lowers himself down onto his forearms and starts to fuck into you with quicker, deeper thrusts that are no longer quite hitting your G-spot—much to your chagrin. He’s not quite laying on your back, but he’s close enough that you can hear the rasping air through his nose and the Uhn noises he’s making—his breath hot and moist on the nape of your neck.

You expect him to finish like that, so you’re surprised when he heaves himself up to a kneeling position. His hands grip your hips hard, and then he’s yanking you back onto his dick as he buries himself deep into you.

And again.

When he accidentally hits your cervix, you do let out a little mewl, but he doesn’t seem to notice—cock still deep in you and his hands still clamped on your sides. After a moment, you finally feel the tension drain out of him, and he releases his grip, flopping down on the bed beside you. Sluggishly you begin to move your limbs, but Mary gathers you up to him with a soft C’mere. He presses his sweat-cool body against your back and kisses your neck once before he’s maneuvering your vibrator (oh, hello) between your legs.

You reach your hand down to help position it to your liking, mashing into it once … twice … thrice, and then you’re moaning and twitching—the nails of your free hand digging into Mary’s thigh—before the intensity has you finally shying away from the toy lest you make a mess.

Mary clicks the vibe off before letting it go, and you twist around until you’re facing him. You grip his hair in your hands and kiss him deeply, smashing your slickness into him as your cunt still gives an errant spasm or two. He grabs your ass and pulls you into him.

“Yeah, mash that wet pussy into me—I want to smell you on me all night.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You fucking love it.”

“I should pee on you.”

“Do you think I’ve never been pe—”

You shove a pillow in his face. “OH MY GOD—do not finish that sentence.”

His hand shoots out and presses on your bladder. You shriek and push him away from you, and he subsequently falls off the bed with an undignified noise. He looks up at you like a disgruntled cat, so you just cackle and sprint out of the bedroom. You can hear him start after you, but he’s not quick enough, and you manage to lock the bathroom door behind you before he can catch you.

You’re too tired to cook, and you’re wondering if you can count on getting that contract enough to order takeout when Mary surprises you; he takes out a beat up looking Tupperware from your fridge. Something reddish-brown sloshes in it.

“It’s my kitchen-sink goulash.” He beams.

You put a smile on your face.

“Aww, Mare. What’s … in it?” you ask as you squint at the contents.

He pokes you in the ribs.

“Just fucking try it.”

You reheat it in a big pot, and it looks edible enough—elbow macaronis, ground meat, tomato sauce, green … things. Once you’re settled at your rusty cafe table with the hot food, you dig in and you have to admit that it’s actually not bad. Mary has a smug look on his face as you tuck in.

“Shut up,” you say.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your thoughts are loud.”

He just giggles at you.

“So what is in it?”

“Uh,” says Mary as he chews. “Frozen hamburger patties, spaghetti sauce, noodles, and some okra from the Latin grocer near me.”

You make a thoughtful noise.

“I wouldn’t have guessed okra. I knew it wasn’t green beans, but.”

“I swear that store is the only reason none of us have scurvy.”

Afterwards he packs up his guitar.

“I gotta be getting back to my place.” He licks your nose, and you sputter. He grins. “But thanks for the sex.”

“Yeah, well …” you say as you rub at your nose, “thanks for the Goulash.”

He looks at you for a moment before slipping a hand into your robe to rest on a love handle.

“I didn’t come by just to hear myself think, you know.”

You roll your eyes, but step into his space.

“I kinda got that, Mare.”

You tap your lips, and he leans down to kiss you.

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#mary goore #ofc #feral cats fic #gutter punk #gritty girls #my writing #original post

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langdvnshepherd · 5 years

Text

Good For You ~ Part 4 (Duncan Shepherd x fem!reader)

PART ONE ~ PART TWO ~ PART THREE

Summary: You’re a broke ass college student whose one night stand with the infamous Duncan Shepherd leads to the development of a rather interesting relationship between the two of you. — Duncan puts you in an uncomfortable situation that leaves you torn between confessing your truth or walking away from it all.

Word Count: 9.8k (I’m sooo sorry omg)

Warnings: sugar daddy!Duncan, fem!reader, angst, smut, fingering, oral (female receiving), daddy kink

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but here it is! The final chapter (blowing nose emoji). It’s long as hell so I’m kinda sorry about that, but I just had a lot I wanted to include! Also even though it’s deadass like a novel, I still feel like I kinda rushed it?? idk lmk your thoughts I guess. I’ve loved writing this series and I’m sad to see it go, but it’s definitely time to move on lmao. I want to give another shoutout to @avesatanormalpeoplescareme for the inspiration for this chapter you truly saved my life again! Also to @belusima (she doesn’t know it but I left her a lil surprise in here hehehe). I barely proofread this and wrote most of it literally at 5 o’clock this morning so if you notice any major mistakes pls don’t roast me. Thank you all so much for the notes and kind words regarding this fic and my other work! I truly appreciate it from the bottom of my heart. (gif credit to m-langdon666)

Three aggressively persistent knocks on your door sent you jolting out of bed one morning. It was early, at least to you. Maybe your roommate stayed out last night and was finally coming home, but other than that you had no idea who could possibly need your attention at this hour. Rising from your bed with a loud yawn and stretch, you reluctantly made your way out of bed and towards the door of your tiny apartment. You must not have been moving fast enough for their liking, because three more rattles on the cracked paint of your front door echoed throughout the apartment not long after the first.

“I’m coming! Jesus,” you muttered, picking up your pace and swiftly running to the door. As you passed the mirror in your hallway, you catch a glimpse of your current state: hair knotted from tossing side to side on your pillow, eyelids puffy from sleep, nipples peaking through the thin fabric of your thin, ratty university t-shirt in the cool air of your apartment. Definitely not presentable by any means, but whoever was beating on your door at this ungodly hour needs your attention and they need it now.

Fully expecting to see your roommate on the other side, you unlatched the chain lock and forcefully flung the door open. She was really in for it thinking she could stay out all night and come home whenever she pleased, waking up the entire building as she did. Ready to lecture her about leaving her keys at home and the danger she puts herself in by partying through the morning at frat houses, you were instead greeted by a different set of eyes.

“Duncan?”

The morning sun pierced through the shade of aqua, turning them an almost glacier-blue shade in the light. He had one arm propped against the door frame, the other rubbing against on the scruff on his neck. Clad head to toe in the most expensive black coat and pants money could buy, he looked so obscure standing in the doorway of your tiny, run-down apartment building. But nonetheless, he looked perfect. Upon hearing your voice, he perked up instantly and the word vomit began.

“Y/N. Is this a good time?” The way his leg was anxiously twitching made you think his question was more of a courtesy, and that he was coming in whether you responded or not.

“Uhh,” looking down at your bare feet and legs, you crossed your arms across your chest hoping to mask your horrendous appearance from Duncan as much as possible, “Yeah, come in.” You stepped away from the entrance and he swiftly entered your living room, making sure to shut and lock the door behind him.

“I’m about to ask you to do something, and I need you to help me out. Okay?” In this moment, both you and Duncan realized he had never been inside of your apartment. He took in the setup before him, recognizing pieces scattered throughout the space that he had purchased for you. An Oscar de la Renta coat hanging on the rack by the door, your Macbook resting open on the side table by the sofa, the high-end coffee maker he’d sent you after casually mentioned your old one had finally bit the bullet. It looked exactly the way he’d pictured it, bits and pieces of luxury scattered amongst the dingy, outdated furniture and appliances.

“Okayy?” you responded, although it came out as more of a question than an answer. You’d never seen Duncan look so distraught before. He was pacing back and forth like he might explode if he stood in place for too long.

“I got a phone call this morning,” he began. “Apparently, the lady in charge of our family’s finances saw my bank statement from our little... trip to Paris and got suspicious. She went digging and found everything. For whatever fucking reason, she took it upon herself to alert my mother. Thought maybe my card got stolen or something. Why she thought that was my mother’s business I have no fucking clue. So, I have spent the better half of this morning trying to make sure my mother didn’t have a stroke from how mad she was when she found out." Blood rushed to his face as he babbled on, his neck turning an irritated shade of pink.

You stood there, leaning against the arm of the sofa, legs crossed in front of you, still holding your arms in front of your chest. You were trying to process what Duncan had just said, but you were still fairly confused. His mother had found out about you. Did this mean he came here to call it off? Why would she be mad? Duncan is a grown man that can spend his money as he pleases.

“And sooo what is it that you need me to do exactly?”

Duncan took a deep breath before finally turning to face you head on. He had been too apprehensive to look you in the eyes from the minute he walked into your living room. “She backed me into a corner. She kept asking if I’m being blackmailed for money or if I’ve been hiring hookers and I didn’t really know how to explain it to her without it being completely fucking embarrassing so I just told her that I’ve been seeing someone. Then she freaked out. Said she wanted to meet whoever it was. Told me to bring them to the event we’re having this weekend.”

You cocked your eyebrow at him, still not understanding.

“Y/N, I wouldn’t be here this early in the morning if it wasn’t important. I need you to go to that event with me...and pretend we’re together. Just for my mother’s sake. We don’t have to stay long, just long enough to say a couple words to her. Prove that you’re real. Then we can go and I’ll never ask you to do something like this ever again. Whatever you want, consider it yours. I just need you to do this. For me.” The pleading look in Duncan’s eyes was almost comical. He was scared of his mother. It was clear at that moment that he cared way too much about what his mother thinks for someone his age. For what reason, you weren’t sure.

“I...uh...wow, Duncan.” You felt a twinge in your stomach that was hard to explain. Maybe it was just nerves from having all of this sprung on you just moments after waking up, or maybe it was because the thought of pretending to be Duncan Shepherd’s girlfriend for a night was enough to make you hurl. Your feelings about Duncan were becoming harder and harder to ignore since Paris, and you weren’t sure how doing this would make you feel afterward.

“I’m not sure I can...I don’t know if-”

“I know. I fucked up. But please don’t make me beg.” It felt like he was staring into your soul. He had never looked this desperate in the entire time you’d known him. You really wanted to be hesitant, to say no. It wasn’t a good idea, it didn’t do anything to help your situation. But who were you kidding, he could have asked anything of you, and you would have come running.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll be there.”

Duncan let out a loud sigh and closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll have someone drop off a dress, just be ready by 7 on Saturday.”

“Okay,” you replied, unsure of saying anything else.

“Okay,” he repeated, satisfied with your compliance. “I’ll see you then.” Duncan approached you, taking your elbows in his hands. It was a gentle, gesture of gratitude, but it made your stomach flip.

“Thank you. Again. I mean it.” He rubbed circles on your arms as he spoke. You looked up to meet his eyes once again, his gaze making your heart rate skyrocket.

You nodded in response, casually rolling your shoulders to shake yourself out of Duncan’s grasp. He took this as an opportunity to leave, making his way towards the door as his dress shoes tapped against the vinyl floor. He turned his back to take one last look at you before leaving.

“See ya,” you called out. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, a slight smile appearing on his face.

“Bye, Y/N,” he all but whispered as he shut the door behind him and went about his day.

You sat in the limo more or less pondering your entire life, and how you’d ended up in this situation. If you would have told yourself 5 years ago, hell, even a year ago that you’d be in this position, you’d laugh at how insane you sounded. Not only had you accidentally found a sugar daddy, if that’s what you want to call it, but you’d also managed to catch feelings for him. Where he once was nothing more than a business arrangement, he now encompassed nearly your every thought.

There was a war going on inside your brain. Part of you wanted things to go back to the way they were when Duncan called on you once a week to fuck and sent you expensive gifts afterward. No strings attached, just fucking. The other part of you wanted clarity, to know how Duncan felt. If you confessed your feelings, would Duncan reciprocate? Could the two of you actually be together? If you weren’t on the same page, would he break it off? Cut you out of his life and leave you a broke, struggling college student?

The conversation you had with your roommate just minutes before Duncan arrived in the limo echoed in the back of your mind.

“You HAVE to tell him how you feel,” she exclaimed, with a little more sass than you were expecting.

“It’s not that simple!” you argued back.

You had finally let her in on everything that had happened with Duncan. The incident with the frat boy, the trip to Paris, that drunken night, the stolen glances, the event you were about to attend and pretend to be his girlfriend for the night. She was convinced Duncan felt the same way you did, but you weren’t sold on the idea.

“But it is though! Come on, Y/N. What you said makes perfect sense. He likes you. He has to. When all of this shit started, it was strictly business. I remember. But now he’s acting all weird and shit and it just doesn’t add up. He either likes you or he’s been buttering you up to kill you this entire time.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Yeah, well, neither are you with your little ‘poor me’ attitude. You should just tell him how you feel. What’s the worst thing that would happen? He doesn’t feel the same, and he breaks it off. I highly doubt you would ever run into him again. Plus, think about what would happen if he liked you too. You wouldn’t have to hide in his apartment or in hotel rooms every night. You could actually spend time with him outside of the pillow talk you have right before you leave. And I mean I know this might be a sensitive subject buuttttt...imagine all of the shit he would buy you if you were actually dating. I mean we’re probably talki-”

“Okay, that’s enough. Thanks. I get it.” Her rambling made you feel ill. Maybe she had a point. For something that started out so harmless, it was now eating you alive. “I just don’t see it ever working out. I’m a college student who barely has her shit together and he’s apparently a member of the most influential fucking family in America besides the goddamn president. We don’t go together,” you babbled, emphasizing your points with elaborate hand gestures.

“Tell you what,” your roommate started, “This...event? Is it?” You gave her a confirming nod from your place at the end of your bed. “Okay, so if you’re pretending to be Duncan’s girlfriend tonight, why don’t you just multitask and figure out whether or not you’d even want to be with him? You’ll be out with him in public, where everyone can see. You’re getting to meet his mother. It’ll be like you’re actually together. If it goes well and you could see yourself doing something like this again, you should tell him how you feel. If you hate it, you should break it off. You shouldn’t let a man take up this much of your time if he’s making you feel like this.”

Damn, why was she always right?

A gentle squeeze on your kneecap drew you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Duncan staring at you from his side of the limo with concern washed over his features.

“You okay?” he asked. “You’re looking a little spaced out.”

“Yeah,” you enthusiastically nodded, hoping to put up a persuasive front and not let Duncan know the internal chaos going on in your body. “Just a little nervous.”

“Me too. It shouldn’t be that bad though. Don’t worry about it too much. I’ll try to do most of the talking. My mother will probably ask you what you do or what your thoughts are about the wine selection. Whatever you do, just try not to mention the...nature of our relationship.”

And what exactly is the nature of our relationship? you thought to yourself.

You absentmindedly picked at the beading on your gown as the limo ascended the winding, cobblestone driveway of the venue. It was a country club of some sorts, so you were dressed to the nines. The dress Duncan had picked out for you was modest enough to meet his mother in, yet showed off just enough skin to still make you feel sexy.

Duncan seemed to think so too, given that his eyes nearly fell out of his head when he picked you up at your apartment building. He knew he had good taste, but he was always taken back by how beautiful you looked.

As the limo came to a halt, Duncan was the first out. He quickly straightened out his suit and made his way over to your side of the car, opening the door for you like the gentleman he was.

“Ready?” he questioned, placing both of his hands on your shoulders to smooth out the creases in your gown from the ride over. It was a gentle and soothing gesture that made your heart beat in your ears.

You looked him up and down one last time before looping your arm around his. He looked perfect, as always. Dressed in all black, and not a hair on his curly head out of place. It was styled differently this time, quaffed back instead of resting to the side. His scruff had been cleaned up around the edges, meaning he was really trying to make an impression on his mother with you by his side.

“Ready.”

You joined Duncan at the elbow and waltzed into the french doors of one of the largest country clubs you’ve ever seen, unsure of where the night would lead you.

The ballroom of the country club must have been bigger than your entire childhood home. The ceilings felt like they were 50 feet high, and there was a waiter stationed at least every 10 steps to cater to your every need. Duncan escorted you straight to the bar, claiming that you both needed at least one drink before doing anything or speaking to anyone.

He was nervous like you, and you could tell, but of course, he had different reasons. It was clear by the way he acted in your apartment that he cared a great deal what his mother thought of him, and impressing her was on the top of his list. Maybe she’d have his ass for spending so much money on a young girl such as yourself, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it as to how that could be. You’d settled on the idea that perhaps he just had a close relationship with his mother, and that he’d do anything to stay in her good graces.

As you nursed the cocktail Duncan had ordered for you (Which was fucking incredible by way. Why was he so good at everything?), your eyes wandered around the spacious room. There had to have been at least 200 people in the room, and more than a handful of them were familiar faces. You’d read about them, learned about them in class. They were infamous lobbyists, members of Congress, even a member of the Presidental Cabinet you’d managed to pick out amongst the crowd. This was his circle, the big dogs he ran with. You began to feel extremely overwhelmed and claustrophobic, the energy of the room becoming overbearing. How could you ever be with Duncan when this is what he did for a living?

Just as you were about to excuse yourself to the bathroom for a proper panic session, Duncan’s grip on your arm tightened exponentially. Turning to him to see what was wrong, you noticed a small-framed, brunette woman making her way towards you with an ear-to-ear grin plastered on her face.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally show up!” The woman took both sides of Duncan’s face in her hands and pressed short, brief kisses on each of his cheeks. You weren’t sure who she was, but you had the inkling this was the woman of the hour. The one you’d been waiting to meet. Although she didn’t resemble Duncan in the slightest, the way Duncan’s jaw was tightened and the short breaths he was taking made you certain that she was an important figure.

“Hi, mom,” the words slipped past his lips, almost in a mumble.

“I was beginning to think I’d never find you in this place! You know I really like this venue, I think we should keep it in-“ by this time she was rambling about things beyond your grasp of knowledge. Something about the app you’d heard Duncan mention plenty of times before but could never wrap your head around, something about crowd-funding and one specific congressman you’d heard about from a tax-evasion scandal on tv. It sent you further into your spiral of anxiety. It must have been pretty obvious, because Duncan then unthreaded his arm from yours and moved it to rest on your hip, pulling you closer towards him to steady your shaking. He ran his hand up and down your side against the embellished fabric, it was calming to you but it was more for himself at that moment. He was nodding at every word that left his mother’s mouth, even though he could barely focus on her words himself.

“-anyways. Enough of all of that. Were you going to introduce me or were you just gonna let her stand there all night with her hip glued to yours?”

Your stomach dropped as you peered up at the woman. She was looking you up and down, taking in your form. You checked yourself one more time, making sure you hadn’t spilled something on your elaborate gown or had lipstick in your teeth. This was it. Time to put on a show.

“Mom, this is Y/N.” Duncan’s features softened slightly as the mention of your name, a smile ghosting over his lips. He continued to run his hands up and down your side as he introduced you, a crutch for both you and him.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Y/N. I hope you’re finding this evening to be worth your while. We put a lot of work into this event, so I hope everyone has a good time.” She extended her hand to you, and you reciprocated, giving her a firm shake.

“This place is incredible, Ms. Shepherd. Thank you so much for inviting me,” you stated in the most uppity voice you could manage. A beauty pageant smile adorned your face, sure to fool anyone.

“Oh please, call me Annette!” She placed her hand over heart in exclamation.

“Well, it’s great to finally meet you, Annette.” Duncan watched the two of you interact intently, ready to interject at the split second something could go wrong.

“Duncan’s not told me much about you. What you do? Where are you from? Tell me all about yourself! You’ve got to be some kind of special if Duncan’s spending more money on you than he is on himself.”

She wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you’d imagined. Sure, you were nervous as hell that she’d ask you a personal question about Duncan you didn’t know the answer to, and you were nervous about the decision you’d have to make by the end of the night (to confront him about your feelings or walk away from it all), but there was nothing about this woman that was particularly menacing.

You cut your eyes to Duncan before parting your lips to speak. He gave your side a quick squeeze, letting you know you were going to be fine.

“I, umm...I’m a student at Georgetown. I grew up kinda far away from here actually. I don’t have any family here or anything-“

“That’s actually how we met, isn’t it, Y/N? At Georgetown? That symposium about higher education and research?” The cock of his eyebrow pleading for you to catch the hint.

“Yeah, it was,” you shot him another glance and a toothy smile, slowly becoming more comfortable in Annette’s presence thanks to Duncan.

“Aren’t you two just the cutest!?” Annette professed. “If I remember correctly, that symposium was forever ago. How come I’m only just now finding out about you?”

Both you and Duncan swallowed the lump in your throat. You racked your brain for an excuse, anything to get her off this line of questioning. Thank god for Duncan’s smooth tongue, because you were at a loss for words.

“We’ve just been taking it slow. Didn’t want to rush anything. We’re both pretty busy so we just haven’t really had the time to take any extra steps.” He spoke so calmly as if he’d been practicing how he would answer this exact question. He was her son, after all, surely he was aware of the kinds of things she’d be asking about.

“Well, I hope you can make it out to another event soon. I think there’s a gala in the works for next month. Or maybe you can convince Duncan to come back to his mother’s house and we can have a proper get-together over a nice dinner. He never comes to see me outside of work anymore. I’m sure you’re busy with school, but I’d love to see more of you,” Annette gave an earnest smile to the two of you.

“Of course, I’d love that,” you flashed your pearly whites at Annette and looked up one more time at Duncan. His face had completely softened when looking into your eyes. You caught a flicker of a spark behind his ocean blue’s, unsure of what it meant.

“If you guys don’t mind, I actually just spotted one of the potential top donors for tonight. I’m gonna squeeze on by and say hello before he gets too drunk and has to be escorted out,” Annette tensed up in amusement and disappeared in the masses.

Duncan exhaled audibly as soon as she went out of his line of vision. He turned to face you, now resting both hands at your hips.

“Thank you. So much.”

“No problem. It wasn’t that bad. She’s not nearly as terrifying as you made her out to be,” you said with a few chuckled in between sentences. You really didn’t know why Duncan made her out to be this big, bad, scary monster. She behaved like any other mother would in her situation. She hardly batted an eyelash when you told her you were still in school, and didn’t ask anything that was particularly worrisome. There was nothing out of the ordinary of her in your eyes. As far as you were concerned, she seemed pretty satisfied.

“Yeah, well, maybe if she raised you you’d know how hard it is to make her happy. She was either lying her ass off just then, or she was actually impressed. I genuinely don’t think she was lying, didn’t see any of her tell-tale signs, but then again she never fails to surprise me,” a blush covered Duncan’s cheeks and he scratched the back of his neck as he spoke.

You quietly nodded back at him, unsure of how to respond.

“Anyways, how about we actually enjoy ourselves now that my mother is under control? I can show you around if you’d like.”

“Sounds like a wonderful idea.”

How you’d ended up outdoors, propped against the lip of an Olympic-sized, cascading water fountain was beyond you. To your chagrin, Duncan excused himself to talk to one of his business partners, claiming he’d only be a second. Seconds turned to minutes, and by now it must have been about 15 since he’d left your side. You took a couple turns down a never-ending hallway and somehow managed to find the doors leading to the garden. There were topiaries galore, and greenery covering nearly every square inch of the back yard. It was peaceful compared to the medley of booming voices indoors.

You took some time to reflect on the night, weighing out the pros and cons of what you were going to do. You hadn’t forgotten the way Duncan had been looking at you all night, it almost resembled the way you look at him. His eyes flutter like he was looking at something precious. The way he always kept one hand on you at all times was not unlost on you either. You wanted to believe it was genuine, but you had convinced yourself it was all part of his act. To sell this fake relationship to his mother and to everyone else in the room.

On the other hand, you were actually having a fun night. Duncan had led you throughout the country club, showing you the various rooms whilst talking shit about almost everyone in attendance. When you went back for more drinks, you caught Annette’s eye again. She gave you a cheerful wave and tilted her glass of wine towards you. You’d even introduced yourself to your favorite journalist, gushing over her latest work.

Your pondering was cut short when you heard the rustling of bushes not far from where you were resting. You were about to have company or you were about to be brutally murdered by some creep that had been hiding out.

When your vision cleared, you realized it was a man. He looked vaguely familiar from far away, maybe he was another famous public figure that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He was dressed in a tuxedo, and his swagger was way too arrogant for your taste. Whoever he was, he was coming your way. You weren’t prepared for what was about to happen next.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

His voice immediately sent shivers down your spine. You knew exactly who this man was. The two of you had a history, and not a good one. A few months before you met Duncan at the hotel bar, you’d had a little rendezvous with him. A couple times actually. Like Duncan, he had coaxed you back to the hotel more than once. You abruptly cut it off after finding out about his backwards, conservative rhetoric. You discovered via the internet that he was everything you despised, and you couldn’t even stand to look him in the eyes. He was a higher up for some media company that had tried to win you over multiple times by bragging about how much money he had. You never accepted a dime apart from the drinks he’d let you run up on his tab. He was repulsive, which you had told him the night you broke it off. It ended in him calling you a gold-digging whore that cared about no one but herself. Definitely not a ladies man to say the least.

You weren’t sure how to react, so you stayed put, straightening out the bottom of your gown that had been folded under your legs. Why the fuck was he even here? Of all of the people you could have run into, of course, it had to be him.

“Should have known you would have found your way into one of these. Tons of rich guys you can fuck around with and use for your own benefit,” he scoffed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. He smelled like bourbon, and you could see the drunken blush that covered his entire face even from the faint glow of the water fountain lights.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You kept your eyes glued to your heels, praying for him to walk away or for someone to come to your rescue.

“Oh come on, Y/N. We both know that’s not true.”

“You’re just mad that I refused to blow you after I found out your company is one of the top donors to the NRA,” you fired back. “Plus, it’s not like I was missing out on anything special when I called it off.”

His jaw clenched, clearly infuriated. You realized maybe it wasn’t the best idea to get into it with a grown man that was at least a head taller than you outside, in the dark, where no one could see or hear. When he took another step towards you, you flinched.

“Listen here, you fucking slut-”

“Y/N?!”

You had never been more thankful to hear Duncan’s voice in your entire life. He all but broke out into a sprint trying to reach you. Mumbling a quick, “Thank god,” to yourself, Duncan finally caught up to you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I was starting to think you ditched me or something,” Duncan said with a hearty chuckle.

“No fucking way. You’re here with Shepherd?!” the man beside you ragged. Duncan hadn’t paid any attention to him until just then.

“Do you two know each other, Y/N?” Duncan looked at you both with raised eyebrows and his lips turned down in disgust.

“Umm...we-” you started, scrambling to find the right words.

“We do. Quite well, actually,” said the foul man cut you off. “You better watch your back around her, Dunc. She’s trouble. Only cares about herself. She’s nothing but a gold-digging whore that’ll leave you high and dry after she gets what she needs. I’ve seen her do it, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll do it again.”

He jabbed his finger at you aggressively as he spoke, like he intended to shove you back. Before he got any closer, Duncan was immediately in-between the two of you. Duncan’s nostrils flared and his chest was poking out, mere seconds from snapping.

"Duncan, can we please just go,” you whispered from behind him.

Duncan looked over his shoulder at you, giving you a brief head nod.

“You should probably get the fuck out of here,” Duncan spat at the man. “Unless you want your face plastered on the cover of every fucking newspaper in D.C., I suggest you never show your face to me ever again. The press loves a juicy story, and I’d be glad to give them one that’ll burn your company to the fucking ground.”

He gave Duncan one last snarl before stomping off in defeat like a dog with its tail between its legs. When he was gone, Duncan gripped you by the elbow and led you out of the backyard, going around the side of the building instead of through the inside. He was quiet the whole time, and you were scared to know why.

The car ride was silent, for the most part. Duncan revealed he went to the same university as the man from earlier. They were rivals, always going for each other’s throats whenever it was possible. Aside from that, not much else was said. You could tell Duncan was bothered by what happened, but you didn’t know if it was directed at you or the man. He kept rubbing his hands up his cheeks and jaw and had his body turned away from you, leaning on the window.

You had to face the music. After everything that just happened, was tonight the best time to confess your feelings? Were you even certain about what you wanted anymore? Sure, Duncan was great, but could you keep up with his lifestyle? The confrontation between you and the media mogul caused you enough anxiety to last a lifetime, and you certainly never wanted to have to do that shit ever again.

You’d told yourself the same thing one million times before. He’s a grown man, it would logistically never work out. Especially after this.

“Duncan,” you started, ready to shatter your hopes and dreams.

He turned in your direction, the same, exhausted look on his face.

“I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his facial expression quickly changing to one of confusion.

“This. Us. All of it. I don’t want to do it anymore,” each word out of your mouth wedged the blade deeper and deeper into your chest.

Duncan just stared at you, his face unreadable. His chest began to move more rapidly, but he stayed quiet. The silence lasted what felt like an eternity, damn near making you want to jump out of the moving limo.

“Say something, Duncan. Please,” you pleaded.

“Guess he was right, huh?” Duncan’s voice was low, like he was trying to steady himself without cracking.

“What?”

“That guy. When he said you take what you want and then you leave. You’re doing it right now. Aren’t you? You got what you wanted. The money, the clothes, the trips. You got caught, and now you’re running.”

You couldn’t do anything but stare at Duncan with your mouth agape. He was really accusing you of being a gold-digger. If he only knew you stopped caring about the money months ago.

“Are you fucking serious? You don’t actually believe what that piece of shit said, do you? You said it yourself, he’s a narcissistic asshole. He was fucking lying.” You argued, highly offended that Duncan would even say such a thing.

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore. I can never figure you out. One minute it’s like you couldn’t care less about me, the next you look at me like you want something way more than a fuck. I’m not sure I can handle any more either.”

There it was. The twist of the knife. It was ironic, really. Under any other circumstances, you might have thought Duncan was confessing his feelings for you. What he had just said was a mirror image of your inner thoughts, how you’ve been feeling about him for months. But the way he said it was so condescending, so hurtful, that you knew that wasn’t the case. He wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

A stray tear managed to slide down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away with the flick of your finger.

“Okay then,” you sighed, truly devastated that the man you had grown to care about so deeply thought so poorly of you. “Anything else you wanna add? Any more bullshit you wanna spew before you never hear from me again?”

Duncan could barely hold eye contact with you. He was just as crushed as you were, only you didn’t know it. He kept his head tilted down, opting for silence.

“Stop the car, please!” you called to the driver.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Duncan rolled his eyes at you.

“Going home. I don’t want to be in the car with you anymore.”

The limo’s brakes screeched as the driver veered off to the sidewalk of the busy street. You gathered the bottom of your heavy gown in your hands and shoved your body out of the vehicle.

“Y/N, stop being stupid. It’s late, it’s not safe. Let me drop you off, please,” Duncan called from the rolled-down window of the limo.

“I’ll figure it out, Duncan. I’m not your responsibility anymore” you fired back. “You don’t have to ‘take care’ of me. I was fine before you, and I’ll be fine after you.”

Your heels clanked against the uneven pavement as you walked away from Duncan and all of the baggage that came with him. In the heat of the moment, you were too fired up to not rub it in his face one last time how wrong he was. You turned back to see the limo still parked on the sidewalk, Duncan watching you. Perfect. Trudging back over to the car, you gave Duncan one last piece of your mind.

“And by the way, asshole, I never did ANY of this for the money.”

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, making you too wired to wait for Duncan’s reaction. You barged off into the dark of the city, this horrible, humiliating night being the only way you would remember Duncan for a long time.

Months had passed since you had removed Duncan from your life. There wasn’t much left of your time together, your roommate insisted the two of you burn most of the shit he had bought you, lingerie included.

You did keep some things, however. Without Duncan’s money, you were back to being strapped for cash and trying your hardest to hit overtime at the coffee shop. You couldn’t afford to go out and buy a new laptop or replace the coffee maker, so he still popped into your mind from time to time.

School was going great, to your surprise. You were on track to graduate in just a handful of weeks, had good grades, and a positive outlook on your future. You even got accepted to conduct research with the head of your department in grad school next semester, which is how you’d once again ended up at that damned hotel for another university sanctioned gala in honor of their top students.

You clung to the wall with your eyes peeled for Duncan. You weren’t going to let him sneak up on you like he had done all of those months before. You’d triple checked the pamphlet for tonight’s event, The Shepherd Freedom Foundation was the featured guest speaker for tonight, so you knew either him or Annette would be making an appearance. The particular corner you had set up base in gave you the perfect view of the entire ballroom, so you were sure to catch Duncan the second he entered the room.

It wasn’t Duncan, nor was it Annette that took the stage. It was some man you’d never seen or heard Duncan ever talk about, so you were relieved, to say the least. Settling on the idea that Duncan had ditched tonight, you could finally let out the breath you’d been holding in ever since you waltzed through the revolving doors of the lobby.

The gala had slowed, guests clearing out, music dying down. You found it best to leave, but not before heading to the bathroom one last time. The restrooms in the train station were filthy, and you wouldn’t be caught dead using one of them.

On your way out, you bumped chests with someone. Hard. The force sent both of you flying back at least a foot or two.

“Holy shit. I am SO sorry,” you called out, still not being able to see properly.

“It’s fine. I should have been watching where I was goi-”

You tilted your head up, wondering why the stranger had stopped talking so suddenly.

“Duncan,” you puffed. Of fucking course. Just as you thought you’d made it out unscathed.

“Y/N.” Duncan looked like he had seen a ghost. “How have you been?”

“Why do you care? I thought you couldn’t ‘handle me’ anymore. Isn’t that what you said?” you smarted off.

“Please don’t be like this,” Duncan started, already tired of your attitude. “If you have a minute, I’d love to talk to you about that night. There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

“Duncan, I really don’t have a minute. Save it, honestly. I got your message the first time. No need to rub it in again.”

“That’s not it, Y/N. I want to apologize. I was a dick. For no reason. Come up to my room and give me 20 minutes to explain myself. That’s all I’m asking for.”

You were ready to thwart him off again, hurl another insult at him. But the look on his face, the sincerity, made you hesitate. “It really isn’t worth it,” you thought to yourself, but seeing Duncan in the flesh opened the floodgates, your heart swelling full of emotion once more. Even if nothing came of what Duncan had to say, knowing you let him speak his mind made you think there could finally be some kind of clarity.

An overwhelming feeling of deja-vu consumed you. You felt like you’d been in this exact position, better yet, you knew you had been in this exact position before. Leaning against the sturdy dresser of the hotel room while Duncan sat in the armchair in the corner of the room by the window. Only the last time, it was under completely different circumstances.

“You wanted to apologize, right? I’m listening,” you didn’t have long until the trains stopped running, so 20 minutes was really all you had.

“Y/N...What I said to you that night. Was shitty. Uncalled for. I shouldn’t have let what that guy said get to me, but I did. You’re right, he is a narcissistic asshole. I know you would never do something like that. He was just jealous. Always has been ever since I can remember.”

“No shit, Duncan. If you would have let me talk that night, I would have told you the truth. He never bought me anything besides drinks. That’s it. I called it off because he’s as disgusting as you said he is. I’ve never gone as far with anyone as I have with you.”

“I know,” Duncan whispered. His nerves were building, you could sense it from the slight changes in his composure that you once picked up on all that time ago.

“Then why did you do it?” you grilled at him.

Duncan was quiet again, staring at his feet.

“Duncan? Hello??”

He finally looked up at you, his eyes glassy and lashes fluttering to ward off tears.

“Did you mean it when you said you never did this for the money?”

Duncan got up from his seat and made his way over to you, your heart rate skyrocketing. You guessed now was as good as it was going to get if you were going to finally tell him how you’d felt about him for the back half of the time you were together.

“Yeah, I did. At first, I didn’t mind it. The lingerie was nice, but I stopped caring about everything about halfway through. Paris is what kinda did me in. Every call, every trip. I just showed up for you. You could’ve cut me off from everythingand I still would have been at your door in a heartbeat. I never said anything, because I was never sure how you would react. I was more comfortable putting on a front than potentially ruining what we had. But I don’t really know why I’m telling you all of this. It’s not like it matters anymo-”

You were cut off by Duncan smashing his lips against yours. Immediately, his scent, his taste, the feeling of his hands on the sides of your neck, it was completely overbearing. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed kissing him until now. The faint taste of liquor always on the back of his tongue, the way he tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth in a way that was rough, but just the way you liked it. When he drew back, you were breathless, your lips tingling from the stimulation.

Duncan rested his forehead against yours, hands still holding on to either side of your face.

“Y/N I think I’m in love with you.”

Spots clouded your vision. This whole time, you’d torn yourself up over the idea that Duncan could never care about you in the way you felt for him. You were sure of it. You’d said it over and over, at least a hundred times.

“Duncan-”

“I’m serious. I never realized it until you were gone. I was raised on the premise that money solves all problems. That money gets you what you want. I’m not good at communicating how I feel. I was taught to manipulate and to lie from the time I could speak full sentences. I thought that if I kept buying you shit, you’d stay. That any form of intimacy was good enough, even if it meant nothing to you. But it meant something to me. It always did. I just never thought that I’d end up caring about you this much.”

You weren’t aware of the tears littering your cheeks until Duncan swiped them away with his thumbs. There you both stood, chests shaky, trembling in each other’s arms. Everything was on the table.

“I need you to stop talking and kiss me again,” you stated matter-of-factly.

Duncan gave you the toothiest grin you had ever seen and pressed his lips to yours again, only gentler. The muscles of his mouth expertly worked against yours. You savored the feeling you’d deprived yourself of for so long.

Caught in another wave of familiarity, you walked him back to the bed. He caught on, letting you shrug off his coat before placing himself right at the edge. You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, never once breaking the kiss. Duncan held you in place with his large hands, sighing at the sensation of being able to hold you once again. He really thought he had lost you for good.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to fuck you again if you were going to turn your back on him the second you finished.

You nodded, looking deep into the crystal blue skies of his eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”

Duncan silently chuckled into your open mouth, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Good. Now take off your clothes and lie down.”

His demand ignited the fire in your belly, sending the already pooling wetness in your core over the edge and into the fabric your panties. You did as you were told, torn between wanting to tease him by taking your time and all but ripping your blouse off of your chest to get straight to business. Duncan licked his lips as you undressed, never once taking his eyes off of you. Once you dropped your panties on top of the rest of your discarded clothes, you made your way to the king-sized bed. The same exact one you’d spent many sleepless hours in for several consecutive months.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” Duncan said, running his hands up and down your bare thighs, parting them to reveal your glistening center. Duncan groaned at the sight, closing his eyes in satisfaction. He slowly ran his fingers through you folds, spreading your slick around, making you jolt on contact.

“No teasing. I need you inside of me,” you panted.

Duncan clicked his tongue at your remark. “I need to show you just how sorry I am. Let me prove it to you.”

With that, he dove into your heat, lips immediately attaching to your clit. He started with slow, gentle sucking motions, pulling back every now and then to place delicate kisses on your most sensitive area. The tugging on your now swollen clit combined with Duncan’s velvet tongue had you whimpering within minutes. Maybe it was because you’d been touch-deprived ever since you ditched Duncan, or maybe he was really just that good. You truly missed this. No one compared to the way Duncan could make you feel. He was acutely aware of every twitch, every reaction you had to his touches. He decided to push you further by dipping his tongue into your entrance to fully taste you. Duncan moaned into your cunt, the taste of you being something he swore he could never get enough of.

“God I forgot how fucking good you taste, baby girl.”

You mewled underneath him, his words sending another bout of arousal through your body. He let a warm string of saliva fall from his lips, watching it drip down your already drenched folds before diving back down to drink from you once again. You felt your slick and Duncan’s spit running down your core, surely forming a wet spot on the duvet. Instinctively, you reached one arm down to pull Duncan closer by his hair, pleading for him to work his tongue faster and harder against you.

He took the hint, moving on to rutting in and out of your pussy with his mouth and gliding his tongue through your folds with more vigor than before. You were grinding against him, trying to gain any kind of friction there was to offer. Duncan removed one hand from of the inside of your thigh and trailed it down to where his mouth was, leaving goosebumps along your legs. Using his index finger, he torturously worked you open while his lips continued nibbling at your clit. He was lost in his own world, eyes closed, nose pressed harshly against your hood. It gave you some relief, but it still wasn’t enough. You wanted to let go so badly, to let pleasure overpower you. But Duncan’s cock was what you really wanted more than anything.

It took everything in you to push Duncan’s head away from you. Using your elbows, you sat yourself up on the bed and reached for the buttons on Duncan’s shirt. He happily obliged, working at removing his belt and pants. When he peeled his tight boxers off of his thighs, you were greeted by his rock hard cock bobbing in the cool air of the hotel room. Your mouth watered at the sight, so many thoughts racing through your mind of what you wanted to do to him.

He hungrily climbed on top of you and began kissing up and down your neck and into the dips of your collarbones. You never thought you’d feel this way again, consumed by Duncan. His hair tickled your chin, causing you to squirm and giggle beneath him. He pulled his lips from your neck with a smacking noise and looked up to see what you were laughing at.

“What?” he asked, lips red and puffy, slick with spit.

“Your hair. It tickles.”

He looked at you once again with bewilderment. How he had managed to find you both back then and now again tonight was beyond his comprehension. He could look at you smiling like that for the rest of his life, he thinks to himself.

Duncan returned the smile before bringing your lips together once again. You used his moment of weakness to take control, wrapping your legs around his torso and shoving Duncan sideways with your arms so that you were now on top of him, your bare core pressed against his stomach. Normally, he’d punish you for even thinking about doing such a thing. But this time, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was willing to do anything to you and for you, even if it meant letting you take the reigns.

You slid back, leaving a trail of your wetness all the way down to Duncan’s waist. Using the muscles in your thighs, you carefully lifted yourself away from him so you could position his aching cock beneath you. He hissed at the stimulation of only your fingers, just as touch-starved as you.

First running his tip through your slickened folds for lubrication, you then hovered his cock directly above your entrance, bracing yourself for the stretch. As you sunk down, your eyes grew wider and wider, your face contorting into a look of pain and pleasure.

“You okay?” Duncan asked when you were fully seated on his cock, his brows furrowed, with small beads of sweat collecting just above them.

“Mhmm,” you said, or moaned rather. “I forgot how big you are.”

Duncan lay beneath you, biting his bottom lip so hard he might have drawn blood, but was too preoccupied to notice. It was taking every bit of the willpower had left not to begin bucking his hips into yours.

He reached forward to grab both of your hands, lacing your fingers with his. He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing reassuring kisses to each digit.

Once you were as adjusted to Duncan’s cock as you’d ever be and the slight pain from the foreign stretch subsided, you began to swivel your hips along his stomach, just barely grinding against him. Duncan kept his eyes on you, squeezing ever so slightly on your palms. The tiny whines leaving your chest with every rotation was music to his ears, but it was egging him on more than he could handle.

“As good as you feel right now, princess, I’m gonna need you to move a little faster before this takes a turn for the worse and we’re both unhappy.”

You snickered at Duncan, leaning down to lay your chest flat against his, his throbbing cock still piercing you. You kissed up his jaw, savoring the coarseness of his scruff against your lips. His hands unraveled from yours and went immediately to your ass, spreading you further apart and kneading the skin with his fingers.

“Tell me how much you missed me,” you started, in between nipping and sucking at the skin behind his ear with your teeth. “Tell me how much you missed this, daddy.”

Duncan swallowed hard. He hadn’t heard you say his name like that in what felt like a lifetime.

“I missed you,” he gulped, “So fucking much. I missed your tight little pussy. How good it feels when you cum all over daddy’s cock. I wanna fill you up so bad.”

You spasmed on top of him, another wave of arousal gushing from you. With a throaty groan, you lifted yourself off Duncan’s cock and quickly slammed back down. Duncan’s breath hitched in the back of his throat, finally scratching that itch he’d had for months.

You sat up slightly, placing the palms of your hands on Duncan’s pecks. Your pace was as quick as you could manage, his cock sliding in and out of your drenched cunt effortlessly. You fit together like a puzzle piece you thought. Made for each other, not belonging with anyone else. The gushing sounds of wet skin slapping together and exhausted panting encompassed the room. The initial burn had long gone and pure, carnal pleasure had taken over you as you impaled your body on Duncan’s cock.

“God, Y/N. Are you close? I don’t think I can hold it much longer,” he confessed.

“Almost. Just hang on for a little while longer. I wanna cum with you.”

You were bouncing on top of him now, your breasts bobbing along to your movements. Duncan shifted his position slightly, moving both of you a few feet back so he could rest his back against the headboard. He took you by the small of your back and pulled you as close as humanly possible, wanting to feel every inch of your skin against his.

He eagerly placed on hand on the back of your neck, moving the other up to the spot between your shoulder blades to keep you close as you milked his cock. He started at your lips, working his tongue against yours in starving passion. Moving down to the hollow of your throat, he sucked harsh, moon shaped marks against your skin. You were chanting his name over and over, thrust after thrust like a prayer, losing yourself in Duncan’s touch.

You weren’t sure if you could do it. Every muscle in your body ached from riding him, sweat coating every square inch of your skin. Duncan noted your falter and began moving your hips for you, thrusting you up and down his cock with all of the strength he had left. He was barely holding on himself.

“Y/N I’m gonna-”

He came suddenly with a grunt. His eyelashes fluttered and his mouth was parted slightly. You felt him spill inside of you, his hot seed coating your contracting walls. Duncan milked you for all that you were worth, his cum leaking onto his shaft, spurring on your own release in the process. The heat once pooling in the pit of your stomach spreading throughout your entire body. Your hips sputtered, unable to keep going through your orgasm, you buried your head in the crook of his neck.

For a solid minute, neither of you said anything. You just laid there, still inside of him, catching your breath, your cheek resting on his shoulder. You had no idea what was going to happen next. You’d both just confessed your feelings, and you both felt the same way, but you kept asking yourself the same question. Would it ever work?

“Duncan?” You spoke up, still not moving your head from the comfort of his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we could ever be together?” you were quieter this time, suddenly feeling as vulnerable as the night he approached you with the idea of the “arrangement” that briefly turned both of your lives upside down.

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?” he asked.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m willing to give it a shot. We’ve made it this far. Only a smaaaall mishap.”

“Yeah, a small mishap,” you laughed, nuzzling further into Duncan’s neck.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you stay here, and we can talk about it in the morning. I’m actually extremely fucking exhausted.”

“Deal,” you replied.

Duncan slid himself out of you, a chill taking over you at the suddenly emptiness. He turned you on your side, wrapping his long arms around your waist as he pulled the sheet up to your chest. You faced him this time, not worried about what he was thinking or what he would say next.

He kissed the top of your forehead while running his fingers through the knots in your hair. You leaned into his touch before exhaustion took over and you both fell asleep. You dreamed of each other again, just like in Paris, only this time about the future each of you would have together.

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