double_jj
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“Why are you being so nice to me?”
His fingers slide along her nape, just under her ear, brushing damp hair away from her neck. She shivers and the bees come back to life in a fury when he does it again even though she thinks he got all the hair the first time.
“Just a kid, huh?” he says, his voice low and rolling and nice. Just as nice as he looks. Beth said it sounded like sex, and Daisy thinks she must be right, with how it feels inside of her. Feels warm and like...a touch, kinda.
She’s not really a kid. Hasn’t been for a long time, she thinks. “I’m not a kid,” she says a little mulish, fighting a pout. “I take care of myself, you know. For a long time now.”
“Yeah, baby, I know you do."
Daisy knows all about stranger danger, she's not stupid, she's seen true crime TikTok, but Holden's just so nice and no one else in her life takes care of her or wants her the way he does. Why can't she have just this one thing for herself?
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- English
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- 6/?
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Bookmarked by double_jj
31 Mar 2025
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Tides Embrace by dumbjollyrancher for sweetandsure
Fandoms: Original Work, Inspired by sweetandsure, Anchor Stitch
11 Jul 2025
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“Summer?” A soft voice broke through her reverie.It was one of the staff members, a woman named Clara, who had been especially kind to her since her arrival.
“You remember Colten, right sweetie? Your father’s brother?”
Summer’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. Colten.
The name floated through her mind like a lost balloon, tethered to fragmented memories that were difficult to grasp. She nodded slowly, her fingers tightening around the apple as if it were a lifeline.
“Half-brother,” Clara added, her tone patient, as if she knew the complexities of family ties could be confusing.
Summer's memories of Colten were blurred, like the frayed edges of an old photograph. She could recall his tall frame hunched over in their apartment a few times when she was small— a presence that was both comforting and distant.
A rewrite inspired by Anchor Stitch by sweetandsure (Read notes)
Bookmarked by double_jj
31 Mar 2025
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Kolya and Sasha were all Sergei had in the world and, for them, he would do anything, be anything.
There was no room, he told himself, for wants or needs. Every day was a day to work off his debt to his boss, the man who owned New York, and his sister, dark haired with dark eyes full of grief.
There was no room for anyone else in his life, there was barely room enough for him.
Until one night, flowers brought him Koshka.
Where there is love or advice there is no grief - Russian Proverb
Bookmarked by double_jj
15 Mar 2024
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Ellie slips the photo out of the back of her phone, it’s folded and creased between her mother’s seventeen-year-old face and the boy beside her. They’re both looking into the camera, both grinning, both a bit blurred by the glow of streetlights behind them. A snapshot in time, a freeze-frame moment from seventeen years ago… she’s been staring at it so long that her mother and the boy blur together until Ellie finds herself in the smear of it. (His smile, the dimples that sit in the edges of a sharp-toothed grin. Her mother’s hair, the curve of her cheek and nose.)
The train lurches as it slows and Ellie tucks the photo into the back of her phone again with unsteady fingers as she pushes to her feet. Some of the other people in the car do the same. It’s late enough that she’s aware she doesn’t quite blend in, too young looking in sneakers and leggings and one of her school sweaters, but she’s got pepper spray hanging from a keyring jangling around her wrist and she’s too nervous about meeting him to worry about anything else.
The paper crinkles in her hands and she looks down at it again, just as the subway doors open on a rush of warm, stale air. His name, in blue ink.
Nicolas Cordova
Series
- Part 1 of Bittersweet Thing
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- English
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- 174,195
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- 14/?
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Bookmarked by double_jj
29 Jan 2024
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The thing is, she remembers him.
This hulking shadow in the frame of the doorway. A big, dusty duffle bag next to big, dusty, heavy boots.
A thick, silver ring, clinking against the neck of a beer bottle.
That’s all she can think about when they say his name the first time in the warm office of the group home. Just that clink of his ring against a brown bottle in the hazy blue glow of the TV. A droning laugh-track and her parents' laughter mixing in. His eyes sometimes, sliding to her, sitting in the hallway and peeking in.
She can’t remember him ever laughing.
Your father’s brother, Miss Andrea said. Logan.
Did you know about him?
Clink clink.
- Language:
- English
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- 106,554
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- 11/?
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Bookmarked by double_jj
26 Jan 2024