Tumgik
#(and i think i covered everything i wanted to say)
ponderingmoonlight · 2 days
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How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes
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Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,5k
Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)
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Gojo Satoru
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The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.
As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.
It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.
You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…
Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”
You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.
Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.
There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.
His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.
“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.
“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”
Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.
“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.
He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.
“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”
You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.
“You think everything looks good on me.”
“That’s because it does.”
His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.
“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”
He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.
“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.
“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”
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Megumi Fushiguro
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It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.
As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.
Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.
As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.
“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.
You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.
“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”
Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.
“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.
“Better than it does on me.”
You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.
“Really? I think it’s a little big.”
Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.
“No. It’s perfect.”
He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,
“You should wear my stuff more often.”
His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?
“You want me to?”
He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.
“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”
Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.
“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“I might just steal more of your clothes.”
Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.
“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.
“I don’t mind.”
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Yuta Okkotsu
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You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.
It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.
Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.
Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.
You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.
“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.
His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.
“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.
You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.
“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”
Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.
“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”
He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.
You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.
Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.
“I look… what?”
Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.
“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.
“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”
Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Thanks, Yuta.”
He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.
“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.
“I might just take you up on that.”
Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.
 “I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
“Not at all.”
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Nanami Kento
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It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.
You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.
Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.
You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.
You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.
For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.
You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.
“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”
Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.
 “It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.
“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”
You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.
“If you don’t like it, I can-”
“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.
He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.
“I like it very much.”
You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.
“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”
Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.
“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”
You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.
“I doubt that.”
Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.
“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.
With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.
“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.
Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,
“Anytime, love.”
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theostrophywife · 3 days
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brother's bsf! mattheo who you've had a crush on for years.
but he's only ever seen you as theo's little sister (or so he says).
it doesn't matter that you and theo are only a year apart. your older brother is extremely protective of you and so are the rest of his friends — especially mattheo.
you grew up around the boys, which was a blessing and a curse in and of itself. on one hand, you grew super close to mattheo, but on the other hand, he's seen you through your awkward braces and pigtails phase.
lately though, brother's bsf! mattheo starts to notice you. really notice you.
suddenly, you didn't seem so little to him anymore.
but over the years, your infatuation with your brother's best friend calmed to attraction instead. you've come to accept that while mattheo would always be your first crush, that's all it would really ever amount to. a harmless little childhood crush.
thanks to theo, you hadn't gotten much of a chance to date when you were younger, but now that you were starting uni with the rest of the boys, you were determined to push those silly little feelings for mattheo away and start putting yourself out there.
granted, you had a lot to learn given your sheltered upbringing.
boys had taken a liking to you. why wouldn't they? you're pretty, you're smart, and you're the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, but you were also extremely naïve.
brother's bsf! mattheo had to protect you.
it was his responsibility.
theo trusted him to keep an eye on you. so he did.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo glares at any boy that dares to look at you.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo revs his motorcycle and comes in hot when he sees anyone talking to you, handing you the pink helmet he keeps on him at all times without a single word.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo gives you rides to your dorm and takes you out for ice cream after a particularly hard exam.
it's clear that mattheo has a soft spot for you. no matter how vehemently he denies it.
until the night that everything changed.
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it was a chilly friday evening when you happily skipped out of your dorm building, eager to attend your first frat party.
the cute boy in your history class asked you to come with him and you immediately said yes despite not knowing what to expect. it seemed fun and exciting and a little bit dangerous.
as luck would have it, you ran into none other than mattheo on your way out. his sleek black motorcycle was parked on the curb, smoke wafting from his lips as he took a lazy drag of his cigarette. leaning against his bike, mattheo raised a brow as you strutted onto the sidewalk.
"where do you think you're going, nott?"
"to a party, matty."
"with who?"
"a friend."
mattheo narrows his eyes at you. "I know all your friends and they're busy tonight. so which friend is it?"
you sigh in frustration. "just a friend from class. god, you sound like theo right now."
"you're not going anywhere wearing that."
"what's wrong with my dress?"
you smoothed down the front of your red minidress self-consciously, shying away from mattheo's intense gaze. his chocolate brown eyes scanned your body, the heat of his stare dragging along your skin.
"for starters, that dress barely covers anything and knowing you, you'll be cold within the first few minutes."
"I'll be fine, mattheo. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."
mattheo crosses his arms, huffing at your statement. "so you told theo where you're headed off to tonight?"
you shrugged. "what my brother doesn't know won't hurt him."
"yes, but he might hurt anyone stupid enough to ogle you in that dress. as will I. maybe I should tell him what his baby sister is up to. better yet, maybe I should come with you to this party, hm?"
"no please," you pleaded. "I just want one night where I'm not being treated like a little kid. can you give me that, matty? please?"
you flashed your best puppy dog eyes at him, knowing that he couldn't possibly resist when you asked so nicely.
mattheo considers it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "fine, princess. but text me when you get there and call me when you're home. don't even think about turning your location off or else I'll send a brigade after you."
"yes sir."
"good girl."
before brother's bsf! mattheo could think better of it, you kiss his cheek and promise to call him later that night.
brother's bsf! mattheo watches you strut away in your tight little dress with a soft smile on his face, fully knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger.
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by the time you arrive at the party, it's in full swing. music is blaring, drinks are flowing, and the frat house is packed to the brim with people.
you send a quick text to mattheo to let him know you've arrived before spotting aiden.
clearly, your date was already a few drinks in. he greets you with a lingering hug before handing you a red cup. "cheers, y/n."
"cheers," you respond, clinking your cup against his and taking a generous swig. the liquor burns your throat and aiden chuckles as you try to hide your wincing.
still, it does the job.
you loosen up after a few sips. aiden introduces you to his friends and you smile politely, trying not to squirm out of his hold as he pulls you in by the waist.
it's fine, he's just keeping you close in such a packed crowd. he doesn't mean any harm by it.
at least that's what you told yourself.
until aiden tries to make a move on you in the middle of the dance floor. you already told him that you didn't want to dance, but he insisted.
you could smell the liquor on his breath as he grabbed your hips, moving them along to the rhythm of the song. you tried to put some distance between you, but aiden didn't seem deterred by it. in fact, his wandering hands slide down to your lower back until they're planted firmly on your ass. you attempted to pry them away, but he slurred "relax" into your ear before giving your ass a squeeze.
that was the tipping point for you.
with all your strength, you shoved aiden off while he cursed after you. the lights were blinding as you made your way through the crowd, fleeing to the bathroom.
you had brother's bsf! mattheo's number dialed before you even closed the door.
surprisingly, he picks up on the first ring.
"hi matty, are you — are you busy right now?"
"I'm with the boys. how'd the party go, princess?"
"um, I'm still here and I just really want to go home."
you hear shuffling on the other end. presumably mattheo finding somewhere more private to speak with you. "I thought your friend was your ride home?"
"well, aiden's drunk and he's been getting a little handsy the whole night so I don't really feel safe going home with him."
"what?" mattheo hisses. "you didn't tell me you were with a guy. I never would've let you go off alone with some random prick."
"please don't be mad, matty. I just wanted to have fun without worring about my brother hovering over my shoulder. don't tell theo, please. I'll — I'll figure it out. I'll find another ride."
"like hell you are! drop your location. the boys and I are coming."
"no, please. I don't want this to be a whole thing. if theo finds out, he'll never let me out of his sight again."
you could feel mattheo grappling with the situation. part of him wanted to tell his best mate, but all he truly cared about was getting to you as quickly as he could. after a few moments, he sighs. "fine, I won't tell your brother, but I'm still coming to get you. stay where you are, princess and don't hang up the phone. I'm on my way, okay?"
"you really don't have to —"
the argument dies in your throat when you hear the sound of mattheo's motorcycle starting up. he wasn't going to let you talk him out of this. mattheo was coming, whether you wanted him to or not.
"too late. be a good girl and stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming for you."
brother's bsf! mattheo pays no mind to the boys as they joke about him meeting up with a booty call.
the only thing that matters to him is getting to you.
brother's bsf! mattheo weaves through campus, revving and racing his motorcycle as fast as it can possibly go.
it's too noisy to talk while he rides, but he stays on the line anyways, listening through one earphone as you quietly hum to help calm yourself. mattheo smiles to himself. it's one of his favorite quirk of yours. half of the time, you don't even notice you're doing it. but he does. he notices everything about you.
mere minutes have passed since you first called him, but it feels like an eternity to mattheo when he finally pulls up to the decrepit frat house at the edge of campus.
mattheo parks his motorcycle on the curb, glaring at the prying eyes trained on him. it's not every day that the mattheo riddle, resident bad boy pulls up to a party looking like he's absolutely ready to kill someone with his bare hands.
he has half a mind to burst into the bloody house and pummel that stupid prick for daring to touch you, but the sight of you approaching stops him cold.
you look flustered and fearful, lower lip trembling as you spill out into the sidewalk. mattheo instantly sees red. he vows to make that motherfucker pay for this.
"where is he?"
"mattheo —"
"where. the. fuck. is. he?"
"probably somewhere inside drunk off his arse. I don't know and I don't care. can we please just go?"
despite his anger, you don't balk from him. in fact, you've got both hands pressed firmly against his chest to hold him back.
brother's bsf! mattheo grips your hips, your noses pressing together as he carefully inspects you. making sure you were alright is the only thing keeping him from committing violence.
"tell me where he is."
though mattheo's words are tinged with fury, his tone remains soft and sweet. his voice is nothing but a whisper because even at his angriest, mattheo would never raise his voice at you.
“give me a name, sweetheart. just give me his name."
"it's fine, matty. he's not worth the trouble."
“he left you alone, at a party where you don’t know anyone, got too drunk even though he knows he’s your ride home and got handsy with you even though you weren’t into it. give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck him up right now?”
“I can handle him later. can we please just go home? I'm tired and I just want to be in bed now.”
the cold air makes you shiver as you mentally curse yourself for picking such a skimpy outfit when hours ago you felt foolishly confident in your dress.
brother's bsf! mattheo softens when he sees you trembling. without a word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the scent of amber and cinnamon envelopes you all at once, lulling you into a calmer state.
"okay, princess. let me take you home."
once mattheo secures the baby pink helmet over your head, he tells you to hang on tight before taking off.
you hug his midsection, resting your chin on his shoulder as mattheo drives slow through the sprawling campus. the streets are empty, but he drags out the ride, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.
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at the strike of midnight, the two of you finally reach your dorm.
although you insist that you're fine, brother's bsf! mattheo walks you all the way up to your door.
the fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you shift your weight form one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy.
"thanks for picking me up, matty."
"of course, y/n. you know I'd do anything if you're the one asking."
you smile, trying your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I hope I didn't ruin your night."
mattheo shrugs. "not at all. before you called, I was watching berkshire stuff marshmallows down his throat while the boys cheered him on. trust me, you weren't interrupting anything important."
"still. I appreciate you coming to my rescue and not ratting me out to my brother."
mattheo smiles. "it's our little secret, princess."
the double meaning of the words causes tension between you and the pull that you've always felt towards mattheo feels stronger than ever, tugging you closer.
maybe tonight is the night that you finally feel brave enough to fall.
"goodnight, matty."
brother's bsf! mattheo watches as you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek like you always do. except this time, you lean in for a proper kiss.
as soon as mattheo's lips touch yours, you feel your entire body erupt like fireworks. it's everything you imagined it to be and more. his lips are soft against yours, supple and inviting. the kiss takes him by surprise, but once he realizes what's happening, he groans into your mouth, the sound of it filled with need.
dazed and confused, you look up as mattheo pulls away, his big brown eyes scanning your face. "we shouldn't do this, princess."
despite his words, mattheo's hand rests itself on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your exposed skin. you gulp as he stares at you, your lips brushing, your bodies gravitating towards each other no matter how hard you try to fight the pull.
"is it because of my brother?"
"no," mattheo growls. "we shouldn't do this because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we start."
"I don't want you to stop, mattheo."
as soon as the words leave your lips, mattheo is kissing you again, and this time, he isn't holding back. you cling onto his shirt as he kisses you hard, the force of it hitting you all at once. his fingers dig into your hips as you bend at the waist, desperately kissing back.
his head is reeling and his heart is pounding. mattheo is drowning in your taste, your touch, your smell. you're every drug rolled into one; seductive and sinful. he's addicted and he can't get enough.
brother's bsf! mattheo doesn't want to pull away. he wants to stay here and live in this moment forever, but he knows that if he does, he'll end up taking everything.
foreheads pressed together, mattheo leans in for one last kiss. this one is sweet and gentle, enough to satiate him for the moment.
"sleep tight, princess. I'll see you in the morning."
"see you in the morning, matty."
brother's bsf! mattheo can't help but take one last look at you, a soft smile on his face when he sees your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.
in that moment, he knows he's fucked. you're his best mate's little sister. he shouldn't have kissed you. he shouldn't feel this way for you. he should've stopped before it was too late, but you were both way past that now.
now that he's had you, he won't want anything else. it's you he'll always crave. it's you he'll always long for. and he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get you.
brother's bsf! mattheo won't stop until you're his and his alone. *✧・゚:*
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687 notes · View notes
frannyzooey · 3 days
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Short Days, Long Nights: One Shot
Series Masterlist
Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: E
A/N: I missed them, so here you go ❤ one million bajillion thanks to @bageldaddy for looking this over and for typing the words "do a crux check, I think it's here like five times". She was right, as she often is 😌
--
The brothers ride in silence, snow crunching under the hooves of their horses. Everything covered in a fresh blanket of white, they leave fresh tracks behind them as they make their way towards the gates. 
“You gonna tell me what your problem is?”
Joel glowers, his grip tightening on the reins. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
Tommy smirks, a white cloud of heat puffing from his nose. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks, but he says nothing. He shifts in the saddle, his thighs squeezing to spur his horse on faster.
It’s fuckin’ cold, and his knees ache. 
“I think you scared ‘em,” Tommy says, flicking his chin towards the two riders behind them. The boys – new to patrol – give them ample space, their skinny frames swathed in coats in their seat in the saddle. “Just about tore their heads off every time they made a mistake.”
“They shouldn’t be makin’ em,” Joel replies easy. 
Tommy laughs. “Like you never made a mistake in your life.”
Joel shakes his head, squinting at the brightness of the fresh snow. Each night has brought a fresh few inches, and he wonders if the kids have been outside in it. He pictures them making snow men, building forts. The snowball fight they had last week with the neighbor kids comes to mind, and a warmth fills up inside of him. Snow wasn’t a thing for him when he was growing up – not in Texas – and he’s glad they get to experience it. 
Even if it’s cold as shit. 
He pictures the front window of the house, the warm glow it would cast across the snow as darkness falls. You in the kitchen, maybe, and the constant movement of the kids. The image invites him even from beyond the gates, and sighs. 
Tommy continues to poke, in the way that only little brothers can. 
“Oh, I get it. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”
Joel frowns. “Since what?”
“Since you got some alone time. With your wife.”
Tommy’s eyes are bright with teasing, and Joel would normally rise to the occasion – but he doesn’t have it in him. Instead he gives his little brother a sidelong glance. 
Tommy chuckles. “I knew it.” 
“Hard with all the kids in the house all the time,” Joel grumbles. “Always underfoot, never giving us a moment’s peace.”
“Seems like every time you get a moment’s peace, you end up with another kid, brother. Maybe it’s a good thing.”
Joel shakes his head again, the edge of his mouth lifting for the first time in days. 
“It does, doesn’t it,” he says, and Tommy laughs. 
“Let me take those little monsters for you,” he offers. “Maria’s been wanting to see them anyhow, and then maybe you won’t walk around anymore lookin’ like you wanna fight anyone who steps in your path.”
Joel scoffs, though he doesn’t argue. 
The gates of the settlement come into view, the guard towers built along the top capped with mounds of snow. He pictures the bustle of people that will appear when the gates open – the mess hall, the stables, the familiar facade of the town he’s come to recognize as home. And somewhere, in all that, you.
His mind strays to the image of your face: your beautiful, soft smile, the warmth of your body that he’s missed at night. Weighted heat builds low in his hips, and he begins to thicken underneath his fly. 
“Goddamnit,” he mutters. 
It really has been too fucking long. 
“Tonight,” he says to Tommy, giving him a look. “Can you take ‘em tonight?”
Tommy grins.
Joel needs to see the little monsters first. 
He needs to listen to June’s endless chatter as she curls up next to him on the couch, wants to see Hank play with his trucks on the carpet, needs the weight of Dolly sleeping body on his chest. His lips brush her downy curls, and he relaxes into the cushions of the couch, surrounded by his children. 
“Yea, darlin’” to June, and “tell me more, bud” to Hank and murmurs of “hey, sleepy girl” to Dolly. 
His head tips back against the couch, his eyes closing for a second. 
“You gonna make it, old man?” you tease, tucking a sleeper into the backpack in front of you. A teddy next, a blanket following it. 
He turns his head to look at you, and his eyes slip down your body and back up again. He’s been half hard since the second he pressed a fleeting kiss to your mouth in greeting when he walked in the door.
“I’ll show you old man once these kids leave.”
Your movement halts for a split second, and the corner of his lips tip up as you start to pack faster.
You’re still tidying the kitchen when he gets back from Tommy’s. 
“I thought I would have more time,” you frown, scooping up the dinner plates to set them in the sink. He stands at your back, his hands curling around your hips to pull you close. His mouth brushes along the column of your neck, his beard tickling your skin. “I wanted to be upstairs, waiting for you. Assuming you’re still up for–”
He turns you, cutting off your sentence with the press of his mouth. 
It’s been so fucking long. So long since you’ve really kissed him, too long since you felt his strong grip, too long since you’ve done anything more than a peck here and there between the daily chaos of life. Patrol, the green house, your duties around town, the kids – too many nights have gone by with you falling asleep on the couch while he picks away at his guitar, or collapsing into bed together the second the kids turn in. 
You’ve missed him, and you can tell by the way he kisses you, he’s missed you as well. 
His deep kiss lingers until he breaks it, resting his forehead against yours. 
“Dance with me, honey.”
A smile curls at the edge of your lips. “There isn’t any music.” 
“Never stopped you before,” he replies, kissing the corner of your mouth, guiding your arms to wrap around his neck. 
Every time he mentions your time at the cabin, a sweet ache blooms in your chest. A time when it was just the two of you, nothing to exist on but the sustenance found in each other. A private, tender time, full of intimacy and closeness, of quiet peace in a world filled with anything but. It’s not like you miss it compared to the safety of Jackson, but…sometimes you do. 
You’re reminded of it in the mornings, with his warmth curled along your spine, his nose tucked into the nape of your neck. 
You’re reminded of it when you work alone in the garden, the kids down for their naps. 
And you’re reminded of it now, as he turns the two of you slowly in a room with no music. 
Drawing him in, you bring his mouth to yours. You lean into his sturdiness and breathe him in, your fingers slipping into the curls at the nape of his neck, and he sighs, melting under your touch. 
He tilts his head, deepening the kiss and his hands cup your cheeks, his fingertips brushing against the curve of your jaw. Shuffling his feet forward, he guides you towards the counter until the edge of it presses into the small of your back. His mouth moves with more intent, and the toe of his boot nudges your feet apart, making room for himself between your thighs. 
“Upstairs?” you mumble against his full mouth, and he shakes his head. 
“Right here.”
The husk in his voice makes your eyes flutter shut, an instant liquid heat pooling in the cradle of your hips. It intensifies when his hand takes your own and he slides it down his torso, your fingers brushing over his belt buckle. Lower still, and he wraps your fingers around the heft of his cock, clearly outlined through his jeans. 
His hips buck forward into your touch, and a soft moan breaks free of your throat. 
“You really did need it bad, huh?” you tease, a breathless thing dripping with your own want. 
“So bad, honey. So bad.”
His fingers work the button of your pants open, and you start doing the same to his belt buckle until he swats your hands away, and starts tugging at your pants and underwear. Kneeling, he drags them over the curve of your ass and down your legs, his mouth laving hot kisses along the front of your thighs as he helps you step out of the fabric. 
“Joel, your knees. Baby, get off the floor.”
He pays you no mind, his hands forcing you up onto the counter. Spreading your thighs, he shifts closer until his mouth hovers right over where you need him the most: your gleaming, soaked center. 
“Fuck my knees,’ he groans, leaning in for a kiss. 
Your head tips back against the cabinet with a small thud, your fingers pushing through his hair. You flex your hold, the strands silky underneath the palm of your hand, and he lets out a muffled groan into your center, smearing his tongue flat up the center. He slides it over the pearl of your clit, circling the bud a few times as his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs. He laps at your clit, taps it with the tip of his tongue, slides his tongue around and then over it, over it, over it and when you start to rock your hips against his mouth, he latches onto it with a gentle suck. 
“Oh God,” you breathe, your hooded gaze fixed on the crown of his dark curls. His brow furrows in concentration and pleasure, his whiskers catching the delicate skin on your inner thighs and when he presses himself even closer to bury the bottom half of his face, you arch your hips up to meet him. His hand slides up your side in a weighty drag and palms your breast in a full handed hold, giving it a squeeze as he sucks harder. Focusing on the pebbled peak he feels underneath your shirt, his thumb drags over the bud and you feel it between your legs, in time with the steady licks of his tongue. 
Your thighs start to tremble against his cheeks, and his hand curls around the bottom of your knee, pushing your leg up to rest your heel on the counter. The position spreads you wide open for him, something he takes advantage of to slip two thick fingers into your soaked core. They fit in snug to the knuckle; your other leg crooked over his shoulder with a tense hold as he starts to stroke a spot deep inside. His full touch tucks tight against your walls, the pressure paired with the wet glide of his tongue tips you over the edge of your release, your moan joining the sound of his. 
His knees crack when he stands, and his lips slide against yours. His mustache and chin are damp with you, your taste in his kiss and you deepen it, winding your legs around the back of his thighs to pull him closer. He palms your bare ass, grinding his denim covered crotch against your slick curls. His movements get faster, more desperate, and then he pulls back, his gaze dropping down to watch as you roll your hips into his. 
“If you don’t stop, honey, I’m gonna fuck you right here on this counter.”
His words are a low threat, that rumbles from his chest, his eyes never leaving the crux of your thighs. 
“Do it.” 
Your own gaze is fixed on the bulge behind his fly; your cunt an empty, needy thing. You know just how well he fits, just how good it feels when he slides inside. Snug and thick and filling and your eyes close, a frown pulling at your delicate features. 
“Please.”
“If I start here, I won’t be able to stop. I wanna lay you out.” He leans forward, crowding you against the cabinets. “I wanna fuck you too hard for this counter top. I want you too much.”
The words make your stomach drop with need, and you grab his face to pull him in for a frantic, consuming kiss before pushing him back so you can slide off the counter. You can feel him right on your heels as you race up the stairs, a laugh bursting from you when he slaps your ass on the way up. He rushes you through the bedroom door, his hands already grabbing at your remaining clothes. 
“Come on, mama. Take that shirt off for me.”
“You first,” you reply, tugging at his blue button down. The snaps pop open in a straight line down his chest, and he tugs it off, flinging it onto the floor. You strip with him: first your top, then your bra. Sliding onto the bed naked, you watch him peel his jeans down his legs. His briefs go next, and your thighs part to make room for him as he crawls on the bed to join you. 
Your bodies are a tangle of limbs lying sideways across the bed, his mouth presses against yours the same time his hand dives down to line himself up. The crown of his cock slips right in, and his hips drive forward, forcing you open around him. 
“Joel,” you moan, your eyes closing tight. 
In the cabin, sunlight pouring through the window across your writhing body, his shoulders between your thighs and his face buried at the crux. 
“You feel so fuckin’ good. So good,” he breathes, rocking his hips against yours. 
In the woods, the bark of a tree rhythmically scraping against your back, the hot pant of his breath across your skin. 
His low groans blend with your softer, higher pitch ones as your fingers dig into the meat of his ass to force him deeper. 
Clothing scattered on the bank; shadows scattered across the rounds of your bare shoulders as you ride him, taking him inside you again, and again. 
Heady need blooms behind your belly button, your toes curling as your heels dig into the back of his thighs, and every rock of his hips against yours is a filling stroke, a smooth slide forward and back. Whole is what you feel – pressed underneath the weight of his body, the heat of his skin flush with yours, his cock filling every last open inch that belongs to him. 
Threading your fingers through the gray at his temple, the open, pleading expression on your face tells him everything he needs to know. 
“You gonna come again, honey?”
You nod frantically, the roll of your hips picking up pace. Your nipples tighten against his chest, the hair there scraping each sensitive peak. He braces himself above you, his fists curling into the bedding as he fucks you harder, deeper. 
A shudder slips through his solid frame as he watches you come underneath him, and his hips stutter, a deep, reluctant groan rumbling from his chest as he pulls out. Sitting back on his heels, his fist works his cock with an audible, slick pump. 
“Where do you want it this time?”
It’s a question he asks now. Jackson has birth control methods, but with scarce supplies, they aren’t something you can always get your hands on. Condoms are more readily available, but you hate the thought of a barrier between the two of you. 
Instead, you push your breasts together in a silent invitation, and shift closer to him, positioning his cock right above your chest. The view of his broad chest and strong shoulders has you biting your lip, his arm flexing as he pumps his thick cock filling your vision and your thighs squeeze shut, even though you are more than satisfied. 
“Play with ‘em, honey,” he begs, his deep voice straining. 
You do, and with one of his hands wrapped around his cock and the other gripped white around the top of the headboard, he comes in spurts across your chest. You keep playing, smearing the milky pools across the tops of your breasts, circling the tight buds of your nipples until they are glistening peaks as he works every last drop out of his cock, and sated, his frame finally relaxes. 
“Jesus,” he sighs, dropping down on the bed to lay next to you. 
You roll onto your side, your skin damp with his release. His pulse is a steady drum underneath his skin, his cheeks are flush with heat, and the gray along the curve of his jaw stands out even more in the dim lighting of the bedroom. He’s older now, the physical signs more visible. Lines that surround his eyes, more gray threaded throughout his hair — but his hunger is the same. Still the same needy, firm grip love that you’re used to; his calloused hands sliding over your skin. Your gaze slips down his strong profile, lingering on his parted lips and you shift closer to him, tucking yourself closer.
He cracks an eye open to look at you, a dimple appearing in his cheek when he grins. Rolling onto his side, he faces you, slinging the weight of his arm over your waist. 
Your fingers brush along his collarbone, and for the first time in days, you feel yourself fully relax. 
You know patrol is part of the many pieces keeping this community together, but you’ll never get used to being separated, not fully. You’re half of a whole when he’s gone; half of your heart venturing out into the dangerous world. You’re tense from the second he heads out to the stables until the moment you see him through the front door. 
With him finally home, you breathe him in, curling closer. Right where you belong. 
His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, and you smile. 
“You’re so beautiful, honey.” His nose skims along yours, his lips brushing over your cheek. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too. It’s hard to sleep without you here.”
The kiss he gives you is slower this time, more lush. His mouth molds against yours, savoring your familiar taste and you swallow his soft groan down, holding him close. He starts to fade, his kisses slowing into lingering, soft presses. 
Rain sliding against the window, flashes of lightning illuminating his profile. 
His mouth stops, his eyes fluttering shut. He sleeps the way you never saw him sleep on the trail, the way he was never afforded before the cabin either. The way he probably couldn’t while on patrol, either. 
A book resting open and face down on his chest, his breathing steady and deep. 
A bone-deep sleep, sated and safe. 
Still, when your thumb skates across his full bottom lip, his mouth purses – an unconscious kiss, even from the depths of his slumber. His hand flexes, smoothing over your skin. 
Reaching for the light, you click it off, and pull the quilt over the two of you. 
Another worn quilt, another bedroom. 
Tucking your face into the space between his chin and chest, you close your eyes.
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Text
No Man's Land |2|
Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader
Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.
Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing
Word Count: 3k+
Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2
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Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.
Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.
“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.
“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”
“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.
Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”
“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”
“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.
Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.
“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.
“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.
Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”
“And someone can verify this?”
“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”
“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”
“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”
“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”
“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”
Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”
“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”
“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”
“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.
“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”
“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”
“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”
Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.
“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.
Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.
Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.
“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”
Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.
“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”
“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.
“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”
“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.
“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”
“I answered their ad online.”
“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”
“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”
“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.
“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.
“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”
Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.
“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.
“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.
“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”
“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.
“I haven’t.”
“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.
“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”
“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”
“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”
Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.
“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”
Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.
“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.
Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.
After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.
Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.
Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.
When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.
“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.
“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.
Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.
Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.
“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”
Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.
“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”
“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”
“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.
“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself
She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”
Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.
Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.
“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”
Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.
Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”
“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”
Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”
“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”
Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.
Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.
“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.
Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.
Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.
Taglist: @thatshyboy1998
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hencheri · 2 days
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18+. mdni.
pairing: mean toxic bf!haechan x fem!reader
warnings: noncon, toxic relationship, gaslighting.
wc: 1.2k
.
you're watching a movie in the living room, but you're distracted, focused on your thoughts instead of the flashing screen in front of you. it's 3 a.m. and you can hear haechan playing video games in your bedroom.
he hasn't talked to you for hours, hasn't said a word or even looked in your way. it's bothering you a lot. you have a constant knot in your stomach and your heart accelerates at the mere thought of haechan ignoring you.
you hate when he does this, it makes you feel bad. so fucking bad.
you get up from the couch, going to your bedroom. you push the door open, hesitantly walking in. you need to talk to him.
"hyuck?"
he stares at his computer's screen, pressing down on the keys of his keyboard, concentrated on his game. his has his headset on, maybe he hasn't heard you.
"johnny!" haechan calls into his microphone, "quick, come save me."
"hyuckie..." you stand beside him and you know he can see you from the corner of his eye. you bite down on your bottom lip, waiting for an answer that doesn't come.
he continues to play like you're not there. it upsets you so much, could he not be petty for once?
"we need to talk, please," you demand, still trying to get his attention. you know he hears you now since he's quiet.
a few seconds pass before he replies back, "we have nothing to say."
you sigh, exasperated. there are plenty of things you need to discuss about actually, and not just what happened a couple of hours ago. it makes you cringe thinking about the previous events, but you can't just brush it off, especially when haechan's still sour about it.
you were both in bed about to go sleep soon. he made a move, touching your hips up and down, pressing his crotch against your butt. you weren't in the mood, so you told him to stop. he didn't at first and you pushed him away, which really offended him.
he then turned on his pc before you could say anything and you went to the living to watch a movie, a poor attempt to forget about this ridiculous fight.
"but-" you begin, a little annoyed, "we do."
your voice is covered by johnny yelling something to haechan, once again ignored by your boyfriend. "here, here, here! i need to heal you," he yells back, fingers hurriedly pressing down on the keys, "shit, these guys are rough."
"hyuck-" you try, placing your hand on his arm, but he grabs your wrist before you can and shoves your hand away.
you frown, hurt by his action.
"what? we won!?" haechan exclaims, brows shooting up in surprise. you hear johnny talking back without deciphering his words. "ah, they missed the base," he laughs, "yeah, it was close."
he removes his headset and puts it on his desk. but he still decides to not acknowledge you, even when his game is done.
"please," you beg a bit desperately.
"what's the matter?" he sighs loudly, throwing his head back against the headrest of his chair.
"haechan! you've just ignored me the whole night! you can't always do that," you explain to him even though he'll probably only understand what he wants as usual.
he rolls his eyes, "yeah and it's always my fault, right?" he says.
"what- no, that's not-"
"it is," he affirms. he turns his head to you, "every time we so 'need to talk' it's about how i'm wrong, how i shouldn't do this or that, how i should just agree to everything you say and shut my mouth."
you're agape. is this really what he thinks you do? that you only want to complain about him?
"that's not true," you deny, "hyuck, i just want us to communicate, it's important."
he scoffs, "no, you're always the one talking. you don't actually want to hear what i have to say." he looks at you like he's hurt and you start wondering if he might be right. are you really that self-centred? "that's not really what i call communication, you know."
"do you ever ask yourself how i'm feeling? how constantly being rejected makes me feel?" he questions, his gaze not leaving you.
"i don't constantly reject you," you rectify. "sometimes i'm simply not in the mood to sleep with you..."
haechan winces upon hearing your words. "because you are for others?"
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. that's not how you should have said it. "no, that's not what i meant-" but your boyfriend cuts you off, rising up from his gaming chair.
"yeah, no," he shakes his head, "you know what? i've had this feeling that you don't love me like you say you do." he goes around you and you follow him, wanting to reason with him, but he isn't done talking yet.
"we haven't fucked in days and the only thing you let me do is jerk off with your hand. how- how should i interpret that, huh?" haechan sounds genuinely hurt and upset, but that was never your intention to make him feel this way. how could he even doubt your love for him?
"hyuck, please, sit down," you ask, wrapping your hand around his arm to pull him back against you, but he slips away from you.
he turns around and faces you. "are you seeing someone else? is that why?" he suddenly bursts out and you're totally shocked.
"what? no way, how can you think that!?"
he approaches you and this time, you're the one stepping back until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the bed. you look up at haechan, heart beating faster and faster.
"you're not denying it," he points out, now only a few inches separating you from him. "you're cheating on me... how can you be so fucking heartless?"
you shake your head from side to side, gulping down. this isn't true. you've always stayed faithful to your boyfriend, but the knot in your throat prevents you from speaking up, eyes swelling up in tears.
he clasps his hand around your bicep, digging his fingers into your flesh, pulling you flushed to his chest.
"i can't believe it," he breathes out, "my girlfriend is a fucking whore."
you're still in shock when he crashes his mouth on you, smacking his lips to yours and pushing his tongue inside. your whines are muffled, weak hands pushing on his chest to get him off of you, but to no avail.
you fall on the bed and haechan crushes you with his weight, trapping you under him. you squirm around, not liking the way he doesn't listen to your protests and how he forces himself on you.
his lips descend to your neck, planting quick kisses as if he's in a hurry, going down to the valley of your breasts.
"hyuck, please, stop," you cry, but he doesn't listen.
his fingers hook into your shorts, pulling them down with your underwear, too. your breath is caught in your throat, only exhaling when you feel the familiar push of his cock inside of your unprepared pussy.
"you're mine," he moans, the squeeze of your cunt around him making him frown, "when will you finally understand it..."
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lunaritex · 2 days
Text
CHASING REDEMPTION. . .ᐟ — kinich.
—✩ content: modern+spiderman au, established relationship, reader is gender-neutral, both reader and kinich are in college, reader knows kinich’s true identity, angst with comfort, character death.
—✩ author's note: ever since i saw this one edit of peter parker jumping down to save gwen… i knew what i had to do, except there is a small twist at the end. @kazuhaiku
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Kinich swore he had planned the entire process in his mind. Everything was in place and all he needed was to be mentally and physically prepared to tell you the truth. But no matter how many plans he came up with, he did not take into account how a sudden robbery happened, resulting in him having to leap into action. He did not take into account how the robbery was not what it seems, with the robbers more than prepared to stand their grounds. They were armed with dangerous weapons that one could only obtain through illegal means. 
One thing led to another and he ended up arriving hours later than the agreed time. Kinich arrived at the agreed venue for your date and he was not surprised to spot no sign of you. He pointedly ignored the pitiful look the staff threw his way when he left in a hurry. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he used his spiderwebs to zip across the sky, turning a blind eye to how some people stopped to glance at him. 
It took him exactly five minutes to arrive at the balcony of your apartment. He nimbly landed on his feet, peering through the windows as his eyes furiously scanned your room. He swore his heart shattered when he saw a lump laying on the bed, covered with a blanket from head to toe. 
Knock knock. Knock knock. 
You raised your head when you heard someone knocking on your window, revealing your swollen eyes and tearstained face. You frowned when you realized it was your boyfriend. A part of you wants to leave him outside but you knew he was too stubborn for his own good. Surrendering, you unreluctantly crawled out of bed and moved to the window stand, unlocking the lock and slid it open. Shivers ran down your spine when the freezing wind grazed your skin. 
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be busy saving the city or something?” You asked, the sarcasm dripping in your tone made Kinich winced. 
Normally, you would have felt remorse at how you snapped at him but you have had enough. Clenching and unclenching your fists, you looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Look, I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now. You can come back another time-”
“No, I know you’re mad at me and I want to talk about it now,” he interrupted.
And that was the final straw. 
“It’s always all about you, you, you! When have you ever thought about me!? I bet the thought of me sitting in a cafe or restaurant, waiting for my boyfriend for hours, only for him to never turn up has never crossed your mind! Do you know how downright humiliating it is for me to leave and how I have to tolerate the sympathy glances thrown my way, as I walk out of the place? I know you’re doing a good deed by saving the city but sometimes, I wish you could set aside some time for me.” 
Your voice cracked like a whip, startling Kinich into silence. The fire in your eyes was undeniable, a mix of betrayal and exasperation. He tried to respond but you didn’t let him. 
“I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It feels like you don’t even care about me anymore and this relationship is starting to feel one-sided,” your voice grew a notch softer, exhaustion evident in your voice; as if you had already given up trying to fight for something that was no longer there anymore. 
“If you’re not going to say anything, then I think it’s best to end this. Goodbye Kinich and I wish you the best of luck,” you forced a teary-eyed smile at him, sliding the door closed and pulling the curtains, not wanting to see him a second longer. 
Kinich on the other hand, was rendered speechless. He wanted to talk to you again but since it was clear you had cut the line, he had no choice but to respect your decision. After sparing your window one more glance, he zips away into the dark sky. 
~
The next three weeks passed slowly. Both of you were busy preparing for your final exams of the semester. No matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, you just cannot seem to stop thinking about Kinich. Random thoughts like ‘is he doing fine?’, ‘has he eaten?’ and sometimes ‘I hope he’s not hurt again…’. You have not consulted your group of friends about your relationship but judging from how he was not constantly by your side, they already knew what happened. 
Currently, you are heading home after spending hours cramped in the campus library. You were too exhausted to be mindful of your surroundings. You had no idea that you were being followed, until it was too late. 
“Mphmf-!?” 
Your startled shout was instantly muffled when a gloved hand covered your mouth. Your sight turned blurry after you accidentally inhaled something. The last thing you heard was a man saying something along the lines of using you as bait for Spiderman, before everything turned black. 
When you regained consciousness, it took all of your willpower to not scream at how you were dangerously dangling in the air. The only thing supporting you was the rope tightly tied around your waist. Your wrists were tied and held behind your back. You didn’t dare try to move about, not wanting the rope to snap into half. You looked around, squinting your eyes as you tried to make sense of where you were through the darkness. 
All you could see was long and rectangular-shaped steel bars and you knew you were on a construction site. The pockets of your jeans were empty, meaning your kidnappers must have taken your phone after you were knocked out. There was nothing much you could do, except to play the role of a waiting duck. You sighed, lowering your head to look down at the ground and for a split moment, the thought of death flew through your mind. 
“Look who’s awake? Are you getting anxious that Spiderman isn’t here yet?” A sinister voice pierced through the silence. 
You raised your head to see two armed and masked men approaching you, coming to a stop at the edge. One man has a muscular build while the other man was as thin as a branch. Not wanting them to know they have the upperhand, you merely remained silent and looked at them with a bored expression. 
“I won’t rely on him that much if I were you. I doubt he knows that you guys are waiting for him,” you replied. 
The muscular man laughed. “Hah! Nice try, kid. But we’ve managed to drop him a nice little text using your phone, telling him to meet us here at nine sharp. And if he doesn’t, then I guess you can say bye to that boyfriend of yours.” 
Your blood ran cold at his words. 
“I’m here now, let them go.” 
A familiar voice interrupted your brief conversation. The two men turned around and there he was; Spiderman in his glory. You knew Kinich was seething with rage, judging from how his fists were clenched tightly the moment he was informed that you were held hostage. The men smirked in triumph as they slowly approached him, leaving you there to observe the scene unfold by itself. 
“About time you show up. It’s time for revenge for what you did to my face,” the muscular man said, pointing at his masked face with his thumb as he pulled out a gun. You gulped when you saw how dangerous they looked. 
“I don’t remember doing such a thing to you, but perhaps it might be a good thing for you,” your ex(?) replied, and you would have snickered if not for your current situation. 
“How dare you! I should have killed you when I had the chance!” He roared, enraged and started running full speed at Kinich, with his fellow partner-in-crime hot on his heels. 
From your vantage point, you watched with bated breath, heart racing as Kinich faced off against the two heavily-armed men. The tension crackled in the air, thick and electric. Kinich moved with a mix of agility and determination, dodging a flurry of blows while keeping his focus sharp. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he assessed the situation, calculating his next move.
Each clash of steel rang out, echoing in the stillness around them. The men were imposing, their weapons gleaming menacingly in the light, but Kinich stood his ground, a fierce intensity in his eyes. With every punch and counter, you felt your own pulse quicken. You could only watch, willing him to outsmart his opponents and to emerge from the intense battle unscathed. Just when the fight was about to hit the climax and the two men were on the verge of being defeated, the skinny man turned to you. 
You watched in pure horror as he raised his weapon, aiming at the rope and fired. Whatever happened next was in slow motion. Your vision made an abrupt turn to the right, as gravity took over your body and pulled you down. The high-pitched scream you let out was not enough to describe the pure fear pumping through your veins. You made eye contact with Kinich and you could imagine the look of disbelief mixed with horror behind the mask. 
“Kinich!”
You screamed his name at the top of your lungs as your body began its descent to the hard concrete ground at lightning speed. Kinich forced himself to move, dodging the poor attempts of the men trying to stop him. Just for good measure, he shot a few webs aimed at their limbs to prevent them from moving. He jumped off the edge without hesitation, reaching out his hand as he tried to grab you. 
“Hold on, I’m coming!” He shouted, pure desperation heard in his voice. 
With a swift, fluid motion, he shot his web toward you, the silken strands glistening in the air before they wrapped securely around your stomach. Before you could even react, he yanked you towards him, the world spinning as you felt the force of his pull. Just as you landed against him, he swung into the air, the rush of wind whipping past you. Your heart raced as he propelled you both over the danger, each swing taking you away from the chaos below.
He landed gracefully in a safe area, setting you down gently. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his gaze—eyes fierce yet filled with concern. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, urgency in his voice, the adrenaline still coursing through him. You nodded, shaken but alive, gratitude swelling within you.
Your entire body was trembling like a fallen leaf. Kinich gently placed you on the ground, still holding you as your legs gave way. You remained still, the adrenaline and fear of experiencing close death still pumping through your veins as he removed the web from your frame, wincing at how some were still stuck on your clothes. None of you said a word after that, unsure of what to say to break the silence. 
“I-”
He wanted to speak, but you threw yourself at him, hugging him with a vice-like grip as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. Kinich fumbled about due to your combined weight but he managed to catch himself before he could hit his head against the ground. He removed the gloves and pulled the mask off, placing them on the side as he returned the embrace. Your sniffles and sobs were the only thing occupying the silence and Kinich knew you were beyond terrified of what you had just gone through. 
“Hey, it’s fine now. You’re safe, don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, speaking in a soft and gentle tone as he reassures you. He ran his hand through your hair; an action he knows you love by heart. 
“I was so scared… I thought I was going to die…” You whimpered through your tears as you moved away from him, resting your hands on his shoulders. 
“Kinich, I’m sorry for snapping at you. That wasn’t nice of me, especially when you are doing something good which is saving the city and people,” you apologized, but he shook his head. 
“You don’t have to apologize. You weren’t in the wrong, in fact, it should be me. I shouldn’t have neglected you to the point where you felt like the relationship had become one-sided. I promise you that from now on, I will give you more of my time,” he gave you a small smile, reaching out to wipe away the stray teardrop on your cheek. 
“But, I don’t want to get in the way of your duty,” you protested. 
He merely shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure the police can handle the troubles themselves for a day or more.” 
You chuckled and his features softened when he heard your laugh. You flinched when he suddenly carried you bridal-style in his arms after he stuffed his gloves and mask into his pocket. 
“Now that we’re done here, it’s time to go home, shall we?” He asked, looking down at you with a loving smile. 
“Indeed, we shall, Spiderman.”
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days
Text
Fake dating 2 (mini fic)
Part one here
❤️
Now that Jason was leaving you alone it felt like there was a time limit on your "relationship" with Eddie. You're hesitant to admit that your feelings have changed after Eddie's dismissive attitude.
His words keep coming back to you whenever you think of telling him. What was the point?
There was no way you could talk to him and ruin the budding friendship that was happening between the two of you. You adored hanging out with Eddie at the trailer; his uncle Wayne was funny and really nice to you and the trailer had begun to feel like a home away from home.
You didn't want to ruin what you had by admitting your feelings and making everything super awkward and you were so busy trying to cover up your feelings that you didn't notice Eddie beginning to struggle with his...
❤️
Naturally Dustin is the first person to notice Eddie's changing feelings. Even after he took the little shrimp to the record store and Family Video.
He's watching Eddie with an amused grin on his face while browsing the horror collection.
Eddie wasn't normally a jealous person, at least there wasn't a universe where he ever thought he'd be jealous of Steve Harrington...
Okay maybe that was a teeny tiny lie. He was a little jealous that Steve seemed to have it all. Rich, good looks and the ladies loved him but it was a passing thought than anything else.
Now he couldn't quite ignore the jealousy that was raging through him.
"So that oh we don't actually have real feelings for each other comments really came back to bite you in the ass huh dude?" Dustin says sarcastically and Eddie glares at him. The little shrimp and his tone was getting worse by the day.
Dustin is patting his shoulder in a meant to be soothing manner and that irritated Eddie even more.
"Yeah. Real helpful you little butthead" he grumbles as Steve says something that makes you laugh.
He shouldn't be feeling like this but every inch of him is thrumming with envy. Without thinking Eddie walks over and slips his arms around your waist, you look at him surprised.
"Harrington. Good to see you" stop flirting with my girl you butthead he seethes, fuck. He really does want you to be his girl. The realisation is staggering to him because he's been living in denial for a while now.
And instead of admitting these feelings he panics and takes his attitude out on Steve. He feels guilty about doing it but he doesn't like the way Steve is looking at you. Doesn't he have enough chicks swooning about his good looks?
He can tell you're irritated but he's having trouble getting his annoyance under control and once Dustin has picked the movies he likes, he storms out to his van.
When you follow him out with Dustin the look on your face makes Eddie's stomach churn. Dustin shakes his head as he looks between the pair of you and climbs in the front with him.
"Are you coming?" he asks even though he really doesn't want to know the answer.
"What was that with Steve? Why did I feel like I was in the middle of some pissing contest?" he gulps and really he should just apologise but he puts his foot in his mouth. "Sorry I just feel a little nauseated what with all of Steve's flirting" he snaps and Dustin groans.
Your eyes flash with anger and you glare at him, "He's my friend Eddie. Even if he was flirting I'm not interested" this lessons the ache in Eddie's chest but he's still pissed at Steve.
"Yeah well clearly Steve is" he grumbles and the anger fades from your features.
"What does it matter? This isn't real. Our feelings and all of this shit is fake. You said it yourself" your voice cracks at the end and he stiffens. Shit. He did see that... and now you looked like you were going to cry.
"I think I'll walk home today" you tell him and rush away before he can call you back. Shit. Shit.
"You know that I admire you dude but you really can be the world's biggest dumbass at times" Dustin pipes up and he sighs.
Yeah. He definitely is.
❤️
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Text
I feel like Josh wouldn't be surprised about Buck being bi but he would definitely want to celebrate about Buck coming out....
Buck was not expecting to see Josh at 930 am outside his door with two ice lattes in a coffee carrier and a bag of donuts from Birdies.
"Josh, uh- what- what are you doing here? Did we have plans or something?" He asked worriedly as Josh walked through his door, he sensed before seeing Josh's wry smile that this wasn't exactly going to be a social call.
"Oh no, but you owe me Buckley." He set down the drinks and bag, pointing to Buck with an expression akin to annoyance. "You mean to tell me that despite you and I texting every other day about reality TV shows and how influencer should pay extra in tax for making traffic crap and are also in three separate group texts together, you didn't think to tell me "hey Josh, just a heads up, I'm dating a man who looks like he just walked off a cover of a dark romance novel"?"
Buck smothered a laugh behind his fist, he had seen how shocked and annoyed Josh had looked when he and Tommy had came into Chimney’s hospital room. He also saw Hen, Karen, and Josh eyeing them with what Tommy mentioned felt like he was going to have to get ready for multiple shovel talks.
"I-I thought about coming to you but I just wasn't sure who to talk to first, if I had to." Buck explained as Josh pulled the dozen of donuts. He figured Josh was actually upset when Josh slapper his hand as Buck was trying to get to the PB&J bacon donuts.
"Nope, that one is mine." He pointed at Buck's face, "I get to enjoy my donut while you tell me how you two met because now I get to live vicariously through my friend as I stay perpetually single."
Buck rolled his eyes as they both took a seat at the kitchen table. "Aren't you dating a doctor?" Buck asked teasingly, sipping on his iced latte happily as he watched Josh get slightly more irate.
"Yes, but I didn't bring him to Maddie’s wedding. Clearly my version of dating is different than what you and the Hot Pilot have going on." He paused and arched a brow at Buck. "Also, did I hear correctly that that was your third date with him?" Josh asked incredulously.
Buck gave out a flustered "I mean....technically I-I guess you could say it was our....second date?"
Josh pulled the cookie monster donut away from Buck's grasp. "C’mon man!" And pushed the plain glazed donut towards Buck.
"You get the plain till you tell me everything Buckley." He tapped on the table impatiently. "Spill."
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blkluci · 3 days
Note
idk if your taking requests but i literally js read your mha boys seeing you fight and fell in love and i was wondering if you could do a part 3 with hawks, dabi, and iida or anyone else you’d like pls
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𝒎𝒉𝒂 𝒃𝒐𝒚/𝒎𝒆𝒏 and you fighting pt.3...
CHARACTERS ) keigo tamaki, toya dabi todoroki, tenya iida.
PLOT ) a headcannon of the boy/men seeing you fight.
A/N ) thankk youuu anon for the request!! glad you've been enjoying it :) sorry it took so long to fill. i'm so happy that everyone is enjoying this series. lmk if y'all want me to do a different fandom! :3 my requests are always open, so don't be shy y'all <33
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[ 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐎 ] hawks is a walking chick magnet—nopunintended. but he's he made that EXTREMELY clear in multiple interviews; he only wants you. so, it makes no sense when his random girl pushes up on him talkin' bout sum‰—"HE'S MINE." she followed you guys around for too long and hawks asked her to politely stop. when she insisted to not leave him alone, you intervened. didn't go to we for her according to him.
... you've been patient enough
... when she twisted her mouth to say something disrespectful you took off
... your fist connected with them nasty thin lips
... keigo's distress signals in his body weren't working properly
... he didn't know whether to pull you off her and cheer
-> "get In the paint!"
... his chants fuel the punches
... the girl tried the cover her face but your hulk hands still found it
-> "LOOK WHAT HAPPEN TO YOU NOW!"
... you was whoppin' her like you had real issue
... kei was really really amused
... but being that you guys were in public, he didn't want trouble for you
-> "okay baby, i think you got enough hits in."
... right before you let go off her bald head, you landed one for good measures on her nose
-> "DON'T LEMME SEE YOU AGAIN!"
... keigo was chuckling as he covered you guys with his wings and snuck away
... in the secluded area he admired your features
… your face was untouched but a bit of dirt on your shirt
-> "you did her real dirty babe."
-> "so?"
... he smirked
-> "she gonna have bruises for a while."
-> "her problem."
... damn
... that's kinda hot to him
... he chuckled
-> "so cruel. i love you."
… you gave a confused concerned face
… he didn’t care. judge him all you want!
… HE AINT ASHAMED
[ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ] toya hasn’t been with many women in his lifetime. but he’s been with one before you. he’s never mentioned it because he ain’t like her. so randomly, when she decided to take it upon herself and text him to leave you. mind you, he been blocked her on everything. he obviously doesn’t entertain, care nor does he want to or have to energy to deal with her. so he gave you the phone and you told her line it up.
… miss girl was BOLD
… she dropped that address with quickness
… so being an amazing and supportive boyfriend
… he took you to her
… as soon as the car pulled up you called her
-> “come outside, we not gon jump you.”
… dabi chuckled
… he sat on the car hood with his hands in his pants
… he made sure he pull out that phone too
-> “don’t beat her up too bad.”
-> “no promises!”
… shawty buss through the doors and ran up on you
… just to get kicked
… dabi almost fell out on the car
… you was putting beat to ahhhhh bruh
-> “ damn. damn. damn.”
… your hits echoed all down the dark street
-> “betcha won’t try it again!”
… dabi seen you fight before but not with typa anger and adrenaline
… your fist moving like lightning fast to her face
… you damn near pull her head off with how hard gripped her hair
-> “GET UP! GET UP!”
… next thing he know you pick her up like some WWE champion and body slam her
-> “OH!”
-> “DUMMY.”
… he didn’t know what to say but snaked his arm around your shoulder with a smirk
-> “where’d you learn that? how you know how to do that.”
-> “i’ll never tell.”
… he looks at you with a straight face
… them blue eyes damn near glowed in the dark
… like gojo
-> “you always doin’ that.”
-> “i love you too.”
… he rolled his eyes
… now he gotta go beat twice cause he knows he taught you that
[ 𝐈𝐈𝐃𝐀 ] mr. idc-ima-tell really ain’t have no romantic past. he does however have haters. boys and girls but he’s mr. don’t-care! so guess what, he don’t care! but some people really be bold out here. just like this ragamuffin boy that try to fight him. so what’d you do? JUMP THE HELL IN! you like corbin fr. but what makes no sense is why this girl would jump in. yeah she got dealt with.
… iida really didn’t have much time to react he could only swing
… you watched with the boy put his booger hands on your pootie, you wasn’t having it
… you punch the random in the back of his fathead
… iida notice that the weigh was off him
… but then he see it’s you
-> “Y/N!”
… all of a sudden!
… some shawty doo-wop run up
… iida pulled the guy off you and punch him in the jaw
… boy got slumped
… you and the girl tho
… y’all still going!
-> “WHAT YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS!?”
-> “y/n! come on, let her go.”
-> “HELL NO! RUN UP AND STILL BEAT YOU !”
… poor girl was scattering on the floor like a roach
… you was giving her that work!
… twisted every way but sideways
… iida eventually pulled you back
-> “calm down, please. you’ve been her up.”
-> “MAKE SURE SHE DONT TRY IT AGAIN!”
… the girl was limping walking away
-> “she won’t! i’ll make a complaint to aizawa and principal nezu."
… he was livid , but he needed to make sure you were okay
… so he asked if you guys could have the day off
… ofc he was granted permission
… so yall went to eat and chat
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Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will hold on to you with my righteous right hand. (‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41‬:‭10‬ ‭CSB‬‬)
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yolli-es · 3 days
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Please, I'm really sorry
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Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, sadness, rude treatment, mentions of death
I doubt this is in character, so treat it as a silly sketch. Writing text is harder than headcanons..
MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND THERE MAY BE MEANING ERRORS
You adore Jinx; you love and tolerate her. Your acquaintance was unexpected, and your subsequent friendship was spontaneous. You were choking with tears after losing your mother when she found you. This girl saved you so easily, as if it were so easy. Jinx never told you about the past, but when the voices in her head became too loud, you didn't need an explanation. You saw how bad she becomes and what consequences it can bring. Afterwards, you promise yourself to always be there so that you can prevent the irreparable. This was not always successful.
After Silko died, things got really bad. Jinx tried to continue his work, to be strong and collected. But this is Jinx. Your Jinx. And she never was and never will be like this. Maybe that's why she's been so rude to you, taking it out on you because she's under so much stress. Sooner or later it will all end, and she will be able to look at you again without irritation.
You forgive Jinx for everything: the harsh words, the insults, the hits. Because she always apologizes after. And you don't care that it's not sincere at all. You love her; she is the only thing you have.
The day started out quite normally. You and Jinx were sitting in Silko's office, which is still called that way to this day, on the initiative of Jinx herself. It was all quite nice: she decided to share with you many thoughts about the future, which happened quite rarely. But then Sevika came in. And with her came terrible news. Shimmer production had been disrupted again. The enforcers blew up the plant, dealing with the guards there without any particular problems. And she just walked out after saying that. Just one look from Jinx made it clear how bad she was feeling right now,
"It's not your fault, and..." — you're interrupted by a rude "shut up." Jinx, who had been sitting on the table quite relaxed, now clutched her head, her eyes closed, and her breathing quickened. Just a few moments ago she was vulnerable, and now she's rude to you again. "You don't understand me at all," Jinx said in a breaking voice, hiding her face in her knees. It was painful to hear. We have been through a lot together. But she's worse off, and you step over yourself again: "I love you, Jinx. What do you want me to do?". You tell her this so often, so sincerely and naively. Her reaction to your words is always different; you can never guess, and now she again hits you: "I want you to stop being so useless and just help me." Jinx whispered, still struggling with her emotions. She hadn't let herself get angry, panicked, or sad that easily since Silko died. No tears. She kept herself under control. And is that what she thought all along? It's your fault; you're just doing a shitty job. Obviously, sitting here with her is not what she wanted. It looks so painful for you. The girl you love is suffering so much; why don't you just make it easier? That day you stayed, having endured many insults and a couple of blows.
Usually you stayed by Jinx's side, always supporting her and helping her with many tasks. For example, maintaining her authority in the city, keeping an eye out for possible rats nearby, and always saving your love from nervous breakdowns. But now you're by Sevika's side, at a shimmer production plant. You didn't tell Jinx anything; you didn't even think she would ask and worry. You need to act more decisively, as she wanted it. The task was simple: wait until the enforcers come here and destroy them. You were never a good fighter, just a decent shot. Your skills were enough to protect yourself on the streets of Zaun, but they were nothing against well-trained law enforcement officers. That's why you stayed on the sidelines, watching from above and covering Sevika.
You realized how much you screwed up with this shit when you found yourself in the middle of a shootout. Things didn't go according to plan when Sevika was shot, and now you had to save her. Letting the woman lean on you, you ran upstairs. The sounds of gunshots, explosions, and screams confirmed your fears: this plant is finished. Neither the shimmer nor the people were saved. Adrenaline was pumping through you, and you didn't notice anything except the cherished goal.
You reached a safe place and fell. The rest was like a dream. Sevika sat next to you, trying to close the open wound. She tied it with a rag, shouting something about the presence of shimmer nearby. The wound seems to be on your legs, chest, and head. It was painful and cold. Severe weakness. How the hell did enforcers get you? You couldn't think, let alone remember. This woman was shaking you, trying to make you think, but you had already given up. You had lost, and you had screwed up so badly, Jinx would never forgive you. Sevika shouted something, and you didn't really listen; you just couldn't. And then your gaze focused on a blue spot... Jinx? You wanted to look at her one last time. She may be disappointed in you, angry, or simply empty towards you, but all this will not matter as long as she is here. Your eyes closed for just a moment.
" ...orr..."—You can't see, only distantly hear. Such a nice sound; you've heard it before. The noise makes you open your eyes again. A flash of light disorientated you. Straining your eyes, you managed to make out a silhouette in front of you. It was Jinx, and... she was crying. She was in complete disarray, desperately holding your face. She bit her lips every time she wanted to swallow the lump in her throat and continue talking. She was talking to you. What was she saying? Your damn body is so weak. "Hold on, just breathe. Please, I'm really sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you...",-She repeated it over and over while you felt the shimmer being injected into your body. You wanted to calm her down, to say "I love you" back. And all you did was watch silently. Your eyelids were so heavy, and your body suddenly seemed too weightless. You were being yelled at, shaken, and pricked with a shimmer stabbed over and over. And you were too weak to respond to it, closing your eyes one last time.
Jinx sincerely apologizes this time. It's a pity that your mind was too weak to realize this.
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it was short, unclear and stupid 🥴 Wrote this in a hurry while I'm taking a break from studying and writing other things.
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strwberri-milk · 3 days
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i hate you
Rafayel x Reader || Fluff, Rafayel's a Bully || 1, 140 words
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The burst of giggles dies in your throat as the bed finally settles, no longer bouncing as Rafayel lays himself next to you. You barely get the chance to look at him before he’s aggressively pulling at you, putting you against his chest and sighing happily as your face instinctively goes to settle at the crook of his neck. Your arms wrap around him, holding him tightly as he pulls the blanket over the two of you, seabreeze outside a little chilly but smelling too sweet for either of you to contemplate closing the window. 
Playfully, you nip at his throat, the yelp he gives you in conjunction with the slight smack against your back always worth it because you know his face is bright red from the attention you’re giving him. He pulls back slightly, the warmth of your breath and his skin hanging in the air before he leans down to kiss you. His lips push and pull against yours slowly, thumb stroking against your bottom lip. 
“What do you think you’re doing down there, huh?” he asks, voice distinctively raspy as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek. 
“You’re not supposed to try and eat me. I’m cooking dinner for you later.”
“I just wanted a taste. You’re making seafood tonight, aren’t you?” you laugh, burying your face back into his neck to nip lightly at him again. 
You feel his fingers press into your back again, nails lightly digging into you. Despite his words, everything about him was keening for you to touch him more, begging for your attention with every fiber of his being. 
“Don’t - don’t do that,” he says with a whine. 
He allows you to indulge for just a little bit longer before finally overpowering you. He pins your hands over your head, burying his face into your neck and collar as he gives you a taste of your medicine. His lips skirt over your skin, biting you hard enough to leave some marks as a gift.
“I love you,” he says sweetly, pressing a kiss behind your ear. 
You feel your face heat up, able to take your hands back from him as you cover your face, shaking your head slightly as you whine. 
“What? Did I say something weird?” 
“Don’t say stuff like that,” you mumble, looking away from him. 
He looks at you with a bit of concern in his eyes, raising a brow.
“What’s the matter? Did I…did I do something?”
You can hear the soft tone in his voice, clearly a little panicked that he somehow hurt you. Even the way he rests above your body is gentler, making you feel bad for making him doubt even an ounce of your affection for him. 
“No! Nothing like that I just…”
You fall silent, trying to figure out what you want to say to him. Unfortunately for you he takes that as an opportunity, beginning to pepper you in kisses again.
“I love you so much though. You’re the love of my life, the only reason I get up in the morning. Don’t hide yourself from me,” he pouts, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. 
When you meet his eyes again he smiles at you, arms wrapping around  you as he presses another kiss to your lips. 
“There you are. Look at you - what a perfect little thing.”
Your heart bursts with affection for the man on top of you, overwhelmed just the slightest bit. 
“Don’t do that - I like it better when you’re mean to me!” 
The words leave you so abruptly he thinks he misheard you. However, when you turn your face away from him for the nth time he slowly starts to put together the pieces of the puzzle, a smirk gracing his features. 
“Is that so?”
“Don’t take it the wrong way! I just - you’re so - god, you’re infuriating,” you finally decide, leaning wholly into the idea of him bullying you despite knowing that it’s incredibly far from the truth. 
“I’d rather you tell me how much you hate me than butter me up with sweet words.”
“You don’t mean that. No, no I know you don’t. You want me to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you time and time again just from the way you look at me. That if I died tomorrow I’d be content with just the memory of you, that every moment you choose to be with me I find myself holding back the urge to sink to my knees and pray that you never leave my side.”
“Rafayel!” you scold, pulling the blankets over your face to try and escape his sweet words.
“No, maybe you’re onto something actually,” he says suddenly, pulling back the blanket. 
“Maybe I do hate you.”
The words hang in the air. You know he doesn’t mean it - he’s probably just being dramatic. You look up at him through your lashes, trying to ascertain the expression on his face. He looks as though he’s pondering something, trailing a finger down your jawline.
“Mmm, yeah, I think I do,” he muses to himself before pressing his thumb against your bottom lip as your breath hitches. 
“I hate the way you fit perfectly into my arms whenever I hold you. I hate the way you call out my name, the way my heart forgets how to beat whenever you come near. It’s tiring you know - to love you as much as I do.” 
He speaks so reverentially you think you’ll break. 
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, a slight whine sitting in your throat as you processed his words. The dam bursts and you feel tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. Rafayel coos at you sweetly, wiping away your tears with his thumb as he hums, peppering your face in kisses. Before you realise it you’re crying out loud, breath catching as you hiccup slightly from the mess of emotions he stirs up in your chest, beating your fists against him weakly. 
“I’m such a mean boyfriend, aren’t I? I make the love of my life cry in my arms and I have no idea what to say to make it all better,” he says lowly, laying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. 
“All you do is bully me!” you say mournfully, tears a result of your love for him as you bury your face into his chest. 
“I know, I know, I’m so cruel aren’t I?”
You nod childishly, letting him take care of you. His hands gently run over your body, kissing away the salt of your tears as he continues to speak to you quietly. 
“I’m sorry sweetheart but you’re going to have to get used to it. 
“I’m going to hate you for the rest of my life.”
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slaaverin · 2 days
Text
Are you sure? Initial thoughts
Ah I've been rereading a post I made before AYS aired about my excitement and hope for the show.
How joyful yet filled with dread I was about what would be on display, what would be uncovered, and people's reaction.
In retrospect, I think AYS gave us everything we hoped for and more.
We saw jikook relaxed and comfortable, enjoying their time together, doing mundane stuff, with quiet and simple moments, or doing fun activities where they felt free and joyful and in the present moment.
My takeway of this show and jikook's relationship is their sense of belonging.
I hoped for a closer look into their dynamic and we really got that.
The way their relationship works is that no matter what they are doing (or not doing), you can see how much pleasure they are taking for simply being in each other's presence. There is a flow and an ease between them that never gets disrupted by anything. They simply adapt to their circumstances and keep being authentic and enjoy the time together.
They showed several times how important these trips were for them.
But in truth it showed it was not (only) about the trips.
What is really obvious is how much they value their relationship, how much care they put in it.
This is not about the trips, this is not about making a show.
This is allowing time to tend and to nurture this relationship they deeply love.
That's what most important.
It matters to them, so much.
Even with Jungkook (we can see it in I am still) crazy schedule. Maybe because of his schedule.
It was needed, it was even indispensable.
Now we have all the information, I cannot see them not making those trips before military. They craved it so much, and they loved it so much, it was for their own mental health and well-being, to keep their internal balance.
When your world turns upside down, when you are faced with the Unknown, your first instinct is to reassure yourself, is to go home, and make yourself a cup of warm tea, and do the things that makes you feel calm and relaxed. As humans we tend to do this, to take cover, to retreat, in the safest place we know, to ease our hearts and to make us think everything will be ok.
That's what Jimin & Jungkook did.
They went home to each other. They took cover into the ease and softness of their relationship, because that's known. Because that's safe. It's where they feel they belong and they can rest.
I understand why.
Such relationship is an oddity in the real world, it's once every blue moon, it doesn't come easily, sometimes people spend their whole life searching for it.
We can see also how much the dynamic is different with other members. Nothing compares to them.
I think jikook are aware of this (because they are smart people) so when you find something so precious, you want to care for it and keep it close to your heart.
It shows in how much tenderness they have for e/o.
Jungkook plays the "baby alpha" yet with Jimin he transforms into the most caring and protective.
Jimin is a selfless guy in general but we see how he truly deeply enjoys seeing Jungkook happy. "All for your happiness".
Damn it makes me tear up just to think about it.
They are SO LOUD. My god.
It is so goddamn beautiful to witness.
At this point I am simply happy for them.
Happy they have each other. Happy they got to show who they are together with no repercussions (because thank god people are still stupid! Blessed be the ignorant)
This show was a rollercoaster of emotions, but now we know, now we see, now we say "Ah yes, that's it. This is what this is about"
Forever grateful to them for trusting us like this with a huge part of themselves.
They really do love us a lot.
(I'm writing this as I should be editing the show, so this post is pure procrastination, let me to back to work 😂)
Thank you for reading 💜
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sweetimpurity · 3 days
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i think i speak for alotta Miguel lovers...but we need more blue collar Miguel. Bots AND fics.
🍊 no.2
Whatever you like. Mechanic. Engineer. Construction. Welder. Bricklayer. Tiler.
Could be in a relationship with us or maybe just the guy who comes around.... Oh even a maintenance man. Handy man. Bob the builder. Nah. But we all know we'd love to see him working a car..
Thank you anon for all these wonderful requests! I'm working my way through them and consuming the necessary media to do these justice haha! I love it! 🍊
These bots can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity on c.ai!
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Blue collar husband ೄྀ---ˊˎ-
He’s tired and dirty after work…
He's tired and dirty, sore and achy. Coming home after an insanely long day and walking up the steps to the front door is his last big hill to climb. All he could think about all day was your pretty face. He absolutely hated leaving the bed this morning. Wanted to stay there with you in his arms. But his job is demanding and tough. A different construction sight, more shingles, new bricks to be laid all the time. But he does it all for you. Even more than for himself.
He finally makes it to the door, opening it with his key and stepping in. Relishing in the quiet of the apartment, knowing you're in here somewhere.
"Baby, I'm home..." He calls softly, putting his bag down, peeling his jacket off and the hat he was wearing pretty much all day. "Jesus..." He sighs, seeing the dust covering the brim of the cap, watching it fall off onto the carpet and onto his hands. "I'm filthy..."
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Handyman Miguel  :・゚✧:・゚
He’s come to fix your pipes… 😉
The faucet is leaking again. Of course. Because as soon as you get someone to come fix your radiator, something else would break. With the cabinets under the sink wide open, towels scattered across the floor, the boards under the sink soaked and warped, cleaning supplies and things all scattered across the kitchen floor... you're just waiting for your savior to finally come. The plumber you called in a sort of emergency request to help stop your floor from completely flooding through.
So antsy you wait here. You live alone so there aren't any roommates sharing in your panic. Watching the pipes leak into a pan under the sink, checking it every half hour. Watering your plants on the fire escape with the water that collects. Then instantly putting the pan back under there to collect the water seeping out through the threads of the pipes. Feeling quite helpless.
Finally after this process continued all morning long, there's a knock at the apartment door. You're in the process of bringing the pan back to the sink when you hear it. "Just a second!" You call frantically, putting it down and rushing over to the door. Practically ripping it open. And delivering a long winded explanation of everything that's gone on all day, all in one breath, all in a panic.
The poor handy man stands there, listening to your panicked retelling of all that's gone on. His dark eyes slightly widened, looking down at you from his tall height with soft concern.
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Extra! *ೃ༄
Firefighter husband 
Your lifesaver…
"Pa! Pa! Papa!" His little girl squeals, bouncing up and down as he pulls his jacket off and puts his bag down after a long day at the station. Some routine checks and a car accident on the interstate were what made up his day today and he's tired to say the least. But seeing his kids and you makes it all worth it.
"Hey mija..." He grins, picking her up as much as it strains his muscles. Giving her big kisses on her chubby little cheek as she instantly starts telling him all about her day. Soon after, he sees you and the other little ones emerge from the kitchen to greet him at the door. He's grateful for his family after a day like that. To see everyone's faces after the day he had is like heaven.
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Kinda went overboard ha! I hope you like them! And if you have any critiques or the links don't work let me know! Love ya! More to come...
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f14fun · 21 hours
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lay all your love on me - op81 (C2)
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synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance
prose (6.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────
02: Love, Sweat, and Secondhand Embarrassment
"Clemmy I swear I wanted to die that entire time. Whoever I offended in an alternate universe I am so so sorry, I truly believe karma is real now," I lamented, voice weak.
Burying my head in my pillow, I could finally appreciate the cool blast of AC (well, it was a little bit of air conditioning but a little is better than nothing) I scratched my right leg that was hoisted up onto the blue duvet cover. If not for the horrible comedic timing of everything, in that moment, I might have said that I was enjoying myself.
On the other line of the phone, thousands of miles away, it was a completely different story.
"What the fuck," Clementine could barely muster out because she was laughing so hard.
"I still don't think any part of this story is funny, Clem," I roll my eyes and trail off.
"But it is! You genuinely should consider a career in stand-up comedy. If you recounted all of this in front of a paying live audience, I'm just saying it could make you a millionaire overnight," Clementine wheezed.
"Oh, shut up, bitch," I retorted, trying to suppress a smile despite my mortification.
"You know it's true though!" Her girlish giggles rang through my room. I could see her face through the screen and it looked like visible tears were streaming down her face from how funny she found this to be.
"I am completely and utterly humiliated. There is no way I can go downstairs and face everyone right now," I whined. It was true, as twenty minutes ago, mid-Facetime with Clementine, I heard the door to the foyer open and heard a lot of new noises.
New people. The neighbors. The rest of the Australians.
Crikey, mate.
There was no way I could face them. And since Oscar was probably their son (he looked way too young to be a father) he had probably already told them about the wretched and humiliating mishap.
"Seriously, Clemmy, you don’t get it," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice but failing miserably. "This is not just some embarrassing story. This is my life, and I have to face these people now."
Clementine’s laughter finally started to subside, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to admit, this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of disaster. You can’t just ignore it. It’s like the universe is telling you to embrace the chaos."
I sighed, feeling a bit more grounded with her calming tone. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly feeling the universe’s love right now. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some kind of sitcom. And what if they think I’m a total klutz? I can’t even begin to imagine how Oscar must’ve described me."
"It'll be fine. You are a pro at handling horrible situations. I mean, I can really only think that you have had more bad experiences with guys than good ones!" Clem tried to reassure me.
"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. "Way to make a girl feel special."
Clementine's voice was full of playful sympathy. "Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you so far. Besides, look at it this way: if they’re judging you based on this one incident, they’re missing out on getting to know the amazing person you are."
"Yeah, because nothing says 'amazing' like face-planting into a pile of shampoo and knocking over a bunch of cleaning supplies," I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.
Clementine laughed. "Exactly! And let’s be honest, if they do judge you for this, they’re definitely not worth your time. Besides, Oscar might even think you’re charming in a clumsy, endearing kind of way. You never know."
"You should really consider a career in therapy. If I lay here and close my eyes for a bit and sleep for three hours surely your advice will work," I retorted.
"Oh be so serious with me now,"
"I am! Now I can add a new skill to my LinkedIn profile," I said, trying to stifle a giggle. "How about 'Expert in Catastrophic Bathroom Mishaps: Master of Turning Shower Encounters into Slapstick Comedy'?"
Clementine burst into laughter. “That’s quite a title! It’s like you’ve got a whole new niche market for yourself.”
“Right? I’m just waiting for the endorsement from ‘The Association of Embarrassing Bathroom Incidents,’” I said, imagining a badge with that exact title. What a big, fat, fucking joke.
“Or maybe you'll become the keynote speaker for the 'International Conference on Unexpected Water-Based Accidents,’” Clementine added, her voice full of amusement.
“I’ll make sure to include a workshop on ‘How to Survive a Bathroom Collision with Dignity and Humor,’” I said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the seminar on ‘Turning Slip-and-Fall Disasters into Networking Opportunities.’”
“A career to consider!” Clementine laughed. “And you know what? I’ll be your first fan. Just remember to keep me updated on how your new ‘disastrous bathroom mishap’ career is going.”
“I’ll make sure to do that,” I promised with a smile. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s nice to know that even in the middle of a fiasco, I can count on you to turn it into a comedy show.”
"What can I say, I will never turn down listening to a free shit show," Clementine winked at me through the camera.
"Clem! What the hell!" I waved my manicured pointed nail at her.
"Bye! Don't die from embarrassment before you come back!" She quipped, then promptly hung up.
I lay sprawled on my bed, dreading the thought of going downstairs and facing the group of new neighbors. The whole idea made me cringe. I was just about to mentally prepare myself for the awkward introductions when a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I called out lazily, “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Oscar standing there. His eyebrow was raised, and he wore a cheeky grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.
"Well, well, well," he said with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve been having quite the chat with 'dearest Clemmy,' haven’t you?"
My face flushed beet red, and I stuttered, struggling to find my words. “W-What are you doing here?”
Oscar leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, you know, just overheard you and Clemmy talking about our little mishap. I believe you mentioned something about me being ‘a charming yet infuriating Aussie who managed to turn your bathroom break into a comedy skit.’”
I blinked, stunned into silence. My mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words came out. The sheer embarrassment was overwhelming. Oscar’s casual demeanor and his cheeky grin only made things worse.
“What can I say, my name was called,” Oscar continued with a mischievous glint in his eye. “If someone keeps calling you hot, I mean, wouldn’t you be too curious to listen?”
His smirk only made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble a little more. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I struggled to come up with a response. The playful glint in his eye and his casual attitude did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. Instead, they only made me feel more flustered.
I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “W-Well, I guess I didn’t think anyone would be actually listening.”
Oscar raised an eyebrow playfully, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it was too good to pass up. Especially the part where you called me a ‘human wrecking ball.’”
My face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Great. Just great,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve made a fantastic first impression.”
Oscar chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Look, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse first impressions. Trust me. At least you didn’t accidentally set off the fire alarm or flood the place.”
I managed a weak smile, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep any future disasters to a minimum.”
Look at me, constantly embarrassing myself in front of hot guys. This was the exact reason why I was still bitchless and socially awkward at the ripe age of twenty-one. I could navigate a spreadsheet like a pro, ace exams, and even master the perfect contour, but put me in a room with a cute guy, and I turned into a walking calamity.
I sighed internally, already dreading the inevitable teasing I’d get from Clemmy once she found out I had, yet again, failed to keep my cool around a guy. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and let the ground swallow me whole.
Oscar raised an eyebrow, studying me with a curious look. “You know, you seem like a completely different person right now. Way quieter, more shy… less daring.”
My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “I’m exactly the same as I was before.”
Oscar’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Sure, if you say so. But the girl who almost took me down like a rugby player in the bathroom seemed a lot more fearless.”
My nose flared as I shot him a glare, feeling the fire of indignation rise within me. Who did he think he was, making assumptions about me? I’ll show him just how brave I can be, I thought, my fists clenching. If he wanted to see daring, then I’d make sure he regretted ever doubting me. The nerve of this guy! He might have been hot, but that didn’t give him the right to push my buttons like this.
Oscar gave me a lopsided grin, clearly pleased with himself. "Anyway, everyone’s heading downstairs to meet each other. Figured I’d let you know, since, you know, it’s probably not the best idea to hide out up here forever."
My stomach twisted with nerves at the thought of facing everyone after that humiliating encounter. The idea of meeting new people while still reeling from my disastrous introduction to Oscar was daunting. But there was no way I was going to let him see how nervous I actually was. I took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "Fine, let’s get this over with."
As we walked out of the room and toward the stairs, I could feel Oscar’s presence behind me—large, imposing, and annoyingly close. My face heated up, and I silently cursed myself for blushing yet again. Why did this guy have to make everything so difficult?
It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I was a grown woman, for god’s sake, not some teenager swooning over a crush. But there I was, getting flustered over a guy I barely knew. Get a grip, I told myself, trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen—I wasn’t supposed to be this easily charmed.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, gripping the railing a little longer than usual. I could feel Oscar’s gaze on me, and it only made my nerves worse. Just as I was about to take the first step down, his hand brushed against mine. The contact was brief but enough to send a jolt of awareness through me. His hand was rough with calluses, moderately enveloping mine in a way that felt both comforting and disarming.
What was it about this guy that made me feel so uncharacteristically off-balance? As I tried to steady my racing thoughts, I reminded myself that I had to keep it together. After all, I wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking Aussie turn me into a lovesick fool—no matter how much my traitorous heart seemed to enjoy the challenge.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes were drawn to two adults who were deep in conversation with my mom. Their warm, friendly demeanor and unmistakable Australian accents told me they were Oscar’s parents. They seemed just as lively and outgoing as he was, which only added to the strangeness of this entire situation.
Then, I spotted Oscar’s siblings—a trio of sisters who looked like carbon copies of him, yet each had her own distinct vibe, like different fonts of the same typeface. They were laughing and joking with each other, their bond evident in the way they effortlessly engaged in light-hearted banter. I felt a pang of envy, wishing I had siblings to share that kind of closeness with.
My daydream was abruptly shattered when Oscar’s large, warm hand clasped onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my skin. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, making me jump slightly as a flush of heat rushed to my cheeks. His chuckle, deep and amused, rumbled behind me, the sound wrapping around me like a teasing caress. He was standing on the step just above me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. His presence was unmistakably felt—broad, solid, and way too close for comfort, yet somehow not close enough.
His fingers lingered on my shoulder, almost as if he was testing my reaction, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, seeping into my skin. The space between us seemed to shrink with every passing second, and I could barely concentrate on anything but the weight of his hand and the steady beat of my heart hammering in my chest.
Oscar leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Jumpier than I thought,” he drawled, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Didn’t take you for the shy type. Especially not after our little bathroom tango.” His grin widened, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that was both infuriating and ridiculously charming.
My pulse quickened at the way he was looking at me—those eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to come up with a retort, but all I could focus on was how his hand, still resting on my shoulder, felt both protective and possessive. The air between us crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore, and I had to remind myself to breathe.
I could quite literally cut the sexual tension with the dullest fucking butterknife in the world.
I tried to muster a sharp retort, something that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but my brain was too busy short-circuiting to cooperate. All I could manage was a stuttered, “I-I’m not shy! You just—caught me off guard, that’s all.” The words tumbled out, weak and unconvincing, and I mentally cringed at how feeble they sounded.
Oscar’s grin only grew, clearly enjoying my flustered state. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked on mine with a playful intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “Off guard, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t surprised you, you’d be able to keep up?”
I opened my mouth to respond, determined to regain some semblance of dignity, but nothing clever came out. Instead, I just stood there, caught between wanting to pull away from his teasing and feeling inexplicably drawn to his warmth. His hand slid from my shoulder, and the absence of his touch left a surprising chill in its wake.
Realizing that my window for a comeback was closing, I finally managed to sputter, “Y-Yeah, exactly.” I immediately cursed myself for sounding so pathetic. Not exactly the sharp comeback I was hoping for. His smirk deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second.
“Sure, whatever you say,” Oscar replied, his tone still dripping with amusement. He straightened up, giving me a quick wink before stepping down to the next stair. The playful glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin, and he was loving every second of it.
As he moved past me, I finally found my voice—too little, too late—and muttered under my breath, “Cocky bastard.” But it was quiet enough that I hoped he didn’t hear it. To my dismay, Oscar paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow and an even wider grin.
“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Care to repeat it?”
My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head. “Nope, nothing. Let’s just… go meet everyone.”
Oscar’s grin didn’t falter as he took a step closer, still looming above me. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but with that familiar teasing edge, “I’ve already met everyone else. Your mom, too. And I’ve gotta say, you two seem like complete opposites.”
I blinked up at him, caught off guard again. “Opposites?”
He nodded, leaning against the wall with that effortless ease he seemed to have perfected. “Yep. Your mom’s all smiles and warm welcomes. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got this whole ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe going on.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just messing with me again. “I do not have a ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe.”
Oscar’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, you totally do. But don’t worry,” he added with a playful smirk, “it’s kind of endearing. Keeps things interesting.”
I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Glad to know I’m so entertaining for you.”
He shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, opposites attract, right? Besides, your mom already likes me. You could take a few notes.”
His comment sent a fresh wave of warmth to my cheeks, both from irritation and something I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need notes from you,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.
Oscar just chuckled, giving me one last teasing wink before turning to head down the stairs. “Whatever you say, mate. Just try not to tackle anyone else while you’re at it.”
"Well well well, what do we have here?" A girl with short hair and a devious grin matching Oscar's grinned at me as well entered the kitchen. Shimmering her hands like "jazz hands", she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.
I turned to face the new arrival, immediately recognizing her as one of Oscar’s sisters—one of the three siblings who seemed to share his penchant for mischief. Her cropped hair and sharp, playful eyes made her look like she’d just stepped out of a rom-com where she was the resident troublemaker, always stirring the pot and having a laugh at everyone else’s expense.
“Hey, party people,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing lilt. She shot me a grin that was almost a mirror image of Oscar’s, mischievous and knowing, like she was in on some inside joke I hadn’t been let in on yet. I could feel the same heat from before creeping up my neck. Why did it feel like these siblings were reading me like an open book?
“Looks like someone’s already made a grand entrance,” she continued, flicking her eyes between me and Oscar with an amused smirk. “Oscar’s been talking about you nonstop since we got here. Said something about a ‘bathroom fiasco’ that deserves an award?”
I shot a glare at Oscar, who was leaning casually against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself. “Did he now?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mortification clawing at me.
The girl laughed, light and musical, but with an edge that told me she was fully enjoying every bit of this. “Oh yeah, he’s been filling us in. But don’t worry, we’re used to his tall tales. I’m Hattie, by the way,” she added, extending a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm as if we were meeting on the set of a game show rather than in my kitchen.
I hesitated for a beat before shaking her hand, trying to muster a smile that didn’t look too forced. “Nice to meet you, Hattie. I’m—”
“Oh, I know who you are,” she interrupted, her grin widening. “You’re the girl who almost took out my brother. Honestly, I’m impressed. No one’s ever managed to knock him off his game quite like that.”
I glanced at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. Maisie’s comment hung in the air, both a compliment and a lighthearted jab. I couldn’t help but feel like I was once again the butt of some inside joke between the siblings.
“Yeah, well, it’s a special talent of mine,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling like every word was being scrutinized. “Guess I just have that effect.”
Hattie laughed, the sound bright and unapologetically amused. “Oh, I like you already. But hey, if you’re gonna hang out with us, you better be ready for a little friendly chaos. And maybe a few more unexpected collisions.”
Oscar gave a soft snort of laughter, and I could feel his eyes still on me, assessing, teasing, and—annoyingly—almost impressed. I tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to be staging a full-on rebellion in my stomach. Clearly, this family thrived on playful torment, and I had somehow found myself right in the middle of it.
“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening up and forcing a confident smile. “I think I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”
Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she gave me a mock salute. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to the chaos, mate.”
Oscar chuckled again, giving me that damn wink before pushing off from the counter. “Oh, she’s ready for it. Trust me, she’s already made quite the impression.”
The other two girls strolled in, each with their own distinct energy that filled the room. One had a fierce, confident look, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, and a leather jacket that screamed ‘cooler-than-you’ vibes. The youngest, a curly-haired, bright-eyed whirlwind, practically bounced into the kitchen, her infectious smile lighting up the space.
“So,” I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new faces. “I’ve met Oscar, obviously, and… Hattie, right?” I glanced at the girl who had first greeted me, who nodded with a playful smile. “But I’m afraid I haven’t gotten your names yet,” I continued, pointing between the other two sisters.
The girl with the leather jacket gave me a wry grin, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m Edie,” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence. “The cooler, smarter middle child.”
Mae, the youngest, immediately chimed in, rolling her eyes at her sister. “And I’m Mae, the fun one,” she said with a giggle, her curls bouncing as she hopped up onto a stool. “Edie’s just mad she wasn’t born with my charm.”
Edie snorted, pretending to be offended. “Please, you’re like a tiny tornado of chaos. But yeah, I guess she’s not wrong,” she added, shooting me a smirk. “Mae’s got a way of making everything a little… livelier.”
I couldn’t help but smile at their playful back-and-forth. “Nice to officially meet you all. And thanks for the heads-up on your brother’s antics,” I said, glancing at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.
“Oh, trust me,” Hattie added, her grin widening as she nudged Oscar with her elbow. “We’ve got years of experience keeping this one in line. You’re welcome to join the effort.”
Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Wow, ganging up on me already? This is why I never bring girls home,” he joked, though there was a hint of genuine warmth in his voice, like he was more than used to—and secretly enjoyed—their teasing.
Mae leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait till we start telling you all the embarrassing stories. Oscar’s got quite a few, and we’ve got no problem spilling the tea.”
Oscar smirked, shifting his weight just enough to close the distance between us, his presence suddenly feeling a lot closer, a lot warmer. He leaned in with a casual ease, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to make me squirm. His voice dropped into a playful, low tone, rich and velvety, each word dripping with deliberate charm. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather hear your stories. You’re far more interesting than anything they could say about me.”
The way he looked at me was like I was the only person in the room, his eyes lingering on mine with a bold, flirtatious glint that sent a shiver down my spine. His grin was maddeningly confident, a little crooked, and devastatingly irresistible—the kind of smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. It was teasing, suggestive, and far too charming for its own good, like he was daring me to blush, daring me to react.
I felt the heat creeping up my neck, a slow burn that spread across my cheeks, making my skin prickle with the sudden awareness of how close he was. My mind scrambled for something clever to say, but his flirtatious tone, the way his eyes roved over my face as if he was reading every reaction, left me tongue-tied. It was like he was peeling back layers with just a look, searching for the part of me that he could fluster with a few well-placed words and that infuriating smile.
I tried to steady my breath, but his proximity was overwhelming. I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of something spicy—and the subtle shift of his body as he leaned closer sent my senses into overdrive. Every nerve seemed to hum in response to his nearness, and I could feel my face burning hotter, betraying me with every second that I failed to look away.
Edie made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ew, Oscar, seriously? Can you not flirt for like five seconds? It’s embarrassing.”
Mae giggled, giving Oscar a playful shove. “Yeah, gross. No one wants to see that. Save it for when we’re not around, Romeo.”
Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Oscar with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “He’s always like this. Thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. Don’t let him get to you.”
But Oscar only chuckled, clearly unfazed by his sisters’ teasing. He turned back to me, his grin widening as he caught sight of my flushed cheeks. “Aww, look at that,” he said, his voice soft and teasing. “Did I make you blush? How cute.”
I quickly tried to hide my face, mortification bubbling up as I realized there was no escaping the heat radiating from my cheeks. “N-No, you didn’t,” I stammered, though the pink tint on my face said otherwise.
Oscar’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know. It’s kind of endearing.”
I could practically feel my cheeks getting even more red, if that was even possible. His sisters snickered behind us, enjoying the show as much as they enjoyed tormenting him.
Mae nudged Hattie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s really laying it on thick, huh? Someone needs to put a leash on this one.”
Hattie snickered and turned to me, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, he does this to everyone. It’s part of his ‘charm offensive.’ Just don’t let him get away with it too easily.”
“Yeah, make him work for it,” Edie added with a laugh. “And don’t let that blush fool you. He’s got enough of an ego without you feeding it.”
Oscar just shrugged, clearly unbothered by his sisters’ ribbing. He kept his eyes on me, his smile softening just slightly. “They’re just jealous because they know I’m right. You really are something else.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile that was creeping onto my face despite my best efforts. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an attempt to compose myself.
Oscar leaned back, finally giving me a bit of space but not without one last wink. “Impossible’s my specialty,” he said, the playful challenge hanging in the air.
Hattie clapped her hands together, breaking the charged silence that had wrapped around us. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s change the scene before this kitchen gets any steamier,” she said with a sly grin, glancing between Oscar and me. “What do you say we all head out to the pool? It’s hot as hell today, and I could use a swim.”
Mae’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she bounced on her toes with excitement. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to jump in all morning. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Edie shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Sounds like a plan. Beats sitting around here watching Oscar make a fool of himself,” she said, shooting her brother a pointed look that he brushed off with a careless smirk.
I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. The thought of the pool—cool water, bright sun, and lounging with these new, vibrant personalities—was tempting, but my mind immediately jumped to what that would mean: changing into a bikini, being under the sun's scrutiny, and, worse, the idea of Oscar’s eyes on me again, but this time with even less to hide behind.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was starting to race for an entirely different reason now. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”
As I slipped back into my room, I rummaged through my suitcase, finding the bright bikini I had packed on a whim but hadn’t quite planned on wearing in front of a whole audience of strangers. It was a pretty number—a little more revealing than I was used to—but suddenly, the idea of wearing it around Oscar felt daunting. My insecurities bubbled up: the nagging thoughts of whether my stomach was flat enough, if my thighs looked alright, or if the faint stretch marks I tried so hard to ignore would be too noticeable under the bright afternoon sun.
I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it in a way that made me feel more comfortable, but the nerves wouldn’t settle. I could already imagine Oscar’s eyes lingering on me, his playful smirk turning into something more appraising, and the thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. God, why was I letting this get to me? It was just a pool. Just a bikini. Just Oscar. But the more I tried to rationalize, the more those little fears crept in, whispering doubts that made my stomach churn.
I was so lost in my own thoughts, adjusting and readjusting the strings and trying to silence the negative self-talk, that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden knock rattled my door. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, my breath catching as I called out, “W-Who is it?”
“It’s me,” came Oscar’s familiar voice, muffled but still clear enough to send a jolt of nerves through me. “Just checking to see if you’re alright in there. You’ve been quiet, and, well, didn’t want you chickening out on us.”
His tone was light, but there was something softer in it, something that caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual teasing or the cocky one-liners I’d grown accustomed to in the short time I’d known him. This felt… genuine. A flicker of concern threaded through his words, almost like he actually cared if I was okay. My cheeks flushed anew, this time from the unexpected warmth of his attention rather than embarrassment.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my cover-up as I tried to piece together my swirling thoughts. Was this the same Oscar who had been smirking at me in the kitchen, flirting shamelessly in front of his sisters? The same Oscar who seemed to relish every moment he made me blush or stumble over my words? It was strange, almost disarming, to hear him like this—concerned, attentive, with none of his usual bravado.
My heart fluttered at the thought. What if there was more to him than just the cheeky guy who lived for teasing? I couldn’t help but feel a small, unexpected tug in my chest, an urge to believe that this side of him was real and not just some act. But then, just as quickly, my rational side kicked in, reminding me that I’d known Oscar for all of three hours, most of which had been spent flustered and caught up in his whirlwind of charm.
Was I reading too much into this? Was I letting my own insecurities and wishful thinking color my perception of him? It was hard not to, especially when he swung so easily between flirty and sincere, keeping me constantly off-balance. I barely knew this guy, yet here I was, letting my mind wander into dangerous territory, imagining depth and sincerity that might not even be there.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions—didn’t want to let a few kind words make me think I’d seen some hidden side of him. But it was hard not to feel flustered when his voice had softened like that, when he’d taken the time to check on me instead of just joking about how long I was taking.
The knock on my door, the concern in his tone—it all felt so different from the playful Oscar who’d swaggered into my life just a few hours ago. Maybe it was nothing, just a moment of decency, a brief glimpse of something real behind the jokes and teasing. Or maybe I was just overthinking, desperate to see something more in him because he’d managed to get under my skin in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for.
I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up once more as the realization hit me—I was blushing again, and not just from embarrassment this time. There was something about Oscar, something that made me want to believe he was more than the carefree charmer he projected. But whether that was true or just wishful thinking, I couldn’t be sure. Not yet.
“I-I’m fine!” I called back, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shaky, betraying the mix of anxiety and embarrassment that had settled in my chest. “Just… getting ready.”
There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough that I thought he might have walked away. But then, Oscar’s voice cut through again, softer this time, and with a teasing edge. “You sure? I promise no one’s gonna judge you out there. Least of all me.”
The reassurance felt sincere, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced with all the what-ifs. What if he did look? What if I didn’t look good enough? What if this stupid bikini made me feel more exposed than I could handle? I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to summon the confidence that I usually wore so easily, but right now felt like it was hiding somewhere I couldn’t reach.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally managed, forcing a smile I hoped he couldn’t hear through the door. “Just... give me a sec. I’ll be right out.”
“Take your time,” Oscar said, his voice fading as he finally moved away from the door. “But don’t take too long. You don’t wanna miss the fun.”
As his footsteps retreated, I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I ran a hand through my hair, giving myself one last pep talk before heading out. It was just a pool day, I reminded myself. Just a stupid pool day with some new people and a guy who was way too good at making me blush. And maybe, just maybe, it would be fun—if I could get out of my own head long enough to let it be.
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taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09
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Grace / the nannies / pogo somehow managing to get Reginald to rent out a children's museum for the evening just once when the kids are like 5-6 (maybe for their birthday). They needed something to get all their energy out.
Five and Viktor in a big plastic fake tree reading books and then going to the fake supermarket, where Luther and Allison are playing house and forced Ben to be their kid. Ben wants to go to the theater where Klaus has put on a one kid retelling of the ugly duckling with no audience.
Baby Diego is either clinging to grace for dear life and not knowing what to do........or has made it his mission to sneak around and throw something at each sibling without getting caught. Five and Viktor are the hardest targets bc they have cooped themselves up in the tree.
Diego also sneaking off because he wants to play in the water zone but the adults told him not to. He comes back sopping wet but very happy. An adult has to get him changed.
Klaus comes out of the theater costume zone dressed to the nines and proclaims himself mayor of hargreeves-ville. No one listens. Five will be the only one to call him mayor for the rest of the evening. But not respect said title.
Luther ends up playing in the"boring" science kid zone for a while well Allison and Ben join Klaus in the theater.
Diego ends up in the tree but he very dangerously climbed up on it. He's stuck. No one notices till Klaus screams, causing everyone to try and get him down.
Five and Viktor end up in the theater. Viktor plays with the instruments well five becomes a butthole director to everyone. Klaus isn't having fun anymore and runs to the supermarket.
Most of them end up in the fake supermarket and have a big group play, assigning jobs and trying to actually get along. It goes as well as u would think. Klaus can't stop beep scanning things and annoying everyone with it. Five ends up enjoying fake arguing like a Karen too much and it genuinely starts to get on Allison's nerves along with the beeping. "I heard a rumor everyone was quiet!!" Then dead silence. Allison feels bad but let's it stay for a few seconds longer before "I heard a rumor that you guys could talk again~" she gives five a weak smile, hoping he doesn't explode. five gives her the biggest scowl and maybe even some tears. I think five HATES being rumored. Ends up running away from the whole thing.
Viktor has a bit too much fun going "should I get this one....ooor this one" it's two of the same toy steaks. He asks five witch one then ben. Both say the left. He gets the right.
Ben is the "manager" and is hating his existence. He ends up enjoying stocking the shelves and ignoring everything around him. Probably took a audio book cassette player from the reading tree and has been blocking everything out. Also him using his tentacles to sort things.
Luther was still in the science zone and bumps into a very upset five. ever the number 1 caring bro , Luther tries his best to comfort him. They end up away from everyone to play in a big fake rocket ship. Viktor eventually joins, holding a shopping bag with his lone toy steak in it.
Diego and Klaus end up doing arts and crafts and get covered in glitter.
They all end the day covered in glitter, wet, probably covered in stickers and marker. They need to be sneaked into the house so hargreeves doesn't see and quick to the baths (the security got it and the nannies and pogo got a ear full later) they were clean as a whistle by the time dinner rolls around.
They never have an outing like that again and barely remember it.
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sturnprime · 2 days
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BREAK AND FIX, chris sturniolo 🩵
from h ꨄ︎ ⎯ hi so first time writing anything like this very very nervy
i hope you enjoy 🩵 (join the taglist here)
rain pattered against the panes of the window, a sombre reflection of the current mood that filled the atmosphere. the room portrayed an almost movie like scene with mounts of tissues scattered across the floor and a tub of ice cream haphazardly tossed beside the bed.
it had been a month and you thought it was supposed to get better, thought that the aching sensation in your chest was supposed to disappear with time but it only seemed to be getting worse. books you read fed you this dream of getting over everything easily yet you sat snuggled under your covers, eyes with red rims and nose tinted with hints of painstaking rose that uncovered your mask of emotions.
the worst part was you didn’t think any of this was affecting chris as much as it was affecting you. your mind began questioning a bunch of things; whether or not he still loved you, if his current emotions were as pathetic as yours, if he was even sorry for ending things so abruptly. none of it made sense from the way things had been so perfect one second only to entirely crumble the next all the way down to that irritating voice in the back of your head that kept telling you, you should have somehow done more to make him stay or not desire to leave.
loud ringing from your phone that was resting on your pillow pulled you out of the trance you had unwillingly slipped into, your eyes widening slightly at the suddenness and even more so at the contact name that was displayed across the screen.
your fingers danced across the surface hesitantly, silently contemplating in your head whether or not answering the call was worth it. you wanted to be strong and pretend you could simply allow it to ring until it didn’t but there was a sort of gravitational pull that made your fingers have a mind of their own. you swiped to answer the call, met with a beat of silence that had you regretting everything within seconds before a heavy sigh was heard on the other end.
“i miss you so much, y’know that? can’t stop thinkin’ about you,” his words sliced through the air and your heart like a freshly sharpened knife, crimson painting your insides in a manner so harmful, you suddenly felt as though you couldn’t breathe.
what hurt more than anything was the slight slurring of his voice that told you he was drunk. surely the saying went that drunk words were sober thoughts but it felt like clutching onto air when you searched for genuineness within his actions.
for a moment you were paralysed, unable to speak or even move as you processed what he said but eventually your words found their way out and you prayed they didn’t showcase your distress towards everything, “you’re drunk chris.”
“baby it doesn’t matter,” his words were laced with a hint of desperation and for a fleeting moment it felt like he was about to apologise for one of your pointless arguments but the moment was gone as quick as you blinked and the reality of the situation doused over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.
“chris i’m not… look just hang up and we can pretend this never happened okay? you don’t know what you’re saying right now,” each word that left you sounded foreign to your own ears, your voice lacking the excitement it used to hold when you spoke to him and in its place there was a semblance of melancholy.
there was shuffling on the other end and you could faintly hear the sound of his brothers somewhere else in the house. the toggles in your mind turned because you had assumed chris was at some sort of party but now that you thought about it, the only noise from the other end was his speech. there was no music or obnoxious chatter, just him and the now gentle sound of his breathing. it almost made you cave, almost made the barriers you had built up come crashing down.
but you had to be strong because of course you could give in but who was to say you wouldn’t end up in the same place all over again, internally pleading for a different outcome. so you ignored the craving inside of you to allow his words to drape over you like a comforting blanket, instead mumbling out a small goodbye and ending the call before waiting for his response.
the hammering inside of your chest didn’t disappear when the phone call ended, it increased and you could feel your anxiety bubbling up to the surface. the only solution you deemed possible was to sleep it out, to fall into a land of dreams where the world and the problems you were facing didn’t seem nearly as daunting.
with a reluctant sigh, you placed your phone on your bedside table as well as your glasses and got more comfortable under your sheets, pressing your eyes shut and hoping sleep greeted you as a dear friend there to take away your worries.
apparently the universe was on your side and you felt your eyes slipping closed within a few minutes and before you knew it, black filled your vision insinuating you had fallen asleep. your mind rested as you slept, the concerns that were plaguing your head before now long gone and unable to reenter the gates of your blockage.
the crepuscular rays of the sun awoke you from your much needed sleep and you groggily rubbed your eyes as you sat up in bed. with a few minutes of required mental preparation for the day, you clicked your phone on and paused when you saw the notifications. hesitance flooded your veins but no doubt this would be about the night before so you pulled it together and tapped on the notification.
chris
I’m sorry I was so fucking drunk I didn’t even know I called you last night
Can we talk?
you
talk about what?
i get it you were drunk shit happens
chris
That’s not what I mean
I mean properly talk
you
what could you possibly have to say to me
chris
So fucking much you have no idea
Please just let me come over and if you want after that I swear you’ll never see or hear from me again
One chance
you
fine
chris
Thank you
Seriously.
I’ll come over in an hour?
you
okay
what the fuck had you just agreed to? you felt dizzy with the thought of seeing him after a month but you would be lying if you said there wasn’t a little part of you that was the good kind of nervous. you and chris were no longer together but the effect he had on you had not vanished into thin air the moment he left. it may have been pathetic but even the mere sound of his name still had you fighting butterflies that threatened to let loose in your stomach.
for the next hour as you got ready for the day and had a little breakfast, you felt lightheaded. the seconds seemed to turn into minutes and before you knew it, your doorbell was ringing. it was almost comical how once upon a time chris would have stormed into your house like it was his own and announced he was home but now the ringing echoed in your ears. it was a stark contrast to what you had grown accustomed to and you felt nauseous at the unfamiliarity.
with a sickly feeling consuming you, your feet made their own way to the front door as you opened it, met with the sight of chris with his hair even more disheveled than it usually was. to others it would appear normal but you knew chris better than most and the odd angles his hair was sticking up in was a telltale sign he was nervous. it was a little comforting, the fact that you were both on the same page with your emotions for a second or so.
you moved to the side to allow him access into the house, an usual silence settling amongst you. the two of you walked into the living room wordlessly and then you slumped onto the couch.
chris cleared his throat and your eyes moved up to meet his. the different shades of his blue and your hazel flickered in recognition as you swore his breath hitched in his throat.
“i’m sorry… let me explain please,” and the pleading in his tone made you give in instantly.
yes you were weak but how could you not be when this was the boy you had fallen in love with? when this was the boy who had been there for you time and time again when you felt as though you deserved no one? you may have been weak but he made you so.
when you didn’t respond, chris took it as his opportunity to keep going, “i don’t know what i was thinking… you have to believe me when i say i fucked up. i never wanted to end it, i just got in my head and i made a mistake. a big fucking mistake please you have to understand… give me a chance.”
his pleading words were the only sound filling the air and it took everything inside of you to not console him. you had to remind yourself he was only hurt because he put himself in such a position, put the two of you in such a position. but the way his eyes were flickering with utter dread had your thoughts stilling until all you could focus on was him.
his hand moved to reach for yours and you should have pulled away instantly but his fingers felt like coming home after endless time away. your hand slot with his like two puzzle pieces and all you wanted was to be complete again. his thumbs swiped across your skin and you felt the flush before it came, felt the desire in your heart to stay in this vulnerable spot for eternity.
“chris how am i supposed to believe you? what happens when i give you a chance and this all comes back to bite me in the back? i can’t do it again, especially when i haven’t gotten over it the first time,” the words you spoke were a mere fragment of what you truly were feeling but any more thoughts lingered on your tongue until the taste became sour and bitter.
“i swear it won’t be like that. this time apart has shown me that i can’t do it without you. i love you, i love you even when i break you and it’s killing me. i want to fix things,” his voice cracked ever so slightly that you almost missed it but you knew him so incredibly well that you picked up on it instantly.
that torn up response made you want to glue him together. yes he broke your heart but your heart also belonged to him, used to beat to the melody of the both of you and you were not quite sure you wanted to stop listening to the harmonies just yet.
“i love you,” he repeated and you loved him too, despite the cracks he placed within your heart because once upon a time he had healed a heart he had never even broken.
“i love you too…” and it was not a lie, never had been since the first time you said it and he looked over the moon.
his eyes lighting up reminded you of the first time, of simpler times and it made you remember all the good moments you shared — ones you did not ever want to forget and craved to expand.
his body seemed to have moved closer, the gap between the two of you on the couch almost non existent but still it felt like lifetimes could slip between you. yet when he reached his free hand to cup your face, air couldn’t slip through even if it tried.
“can i kiss you? please,” he practically whispered and you nodded your head, silently accepting what this would lead to and even though it scared you beyond belief, chris still had a way of making you want to overcome every last fear you held as long as he was alongside you.
he didn’t waste even a second to connect your lips and the surge of electricity that shot through you was a feeling you came to realise you missed so fucking bad. he was practically on top of you as the kiss deepened and when he pushed you so you were laying on the soft cushion, you let him. his body hovered over yours and tongues collided in a rushed manner, a greeting between lovers who so desperately needed to reconcile.
his eyes held a concoction of hunger, affection and gratitude and you wanted to drink it all in. his hands moved to your top and with a silent word of agreement between you, he took it off and carelessly discarded it somewhere unknown.
he looked at you like he was seeing it all for the first time, like you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen and loved and it resulted in your heart soaring.
he pressed open mouthed kisses onto your collarbone and he spoke between each of them breathlessly, “god missed you so much… you’ve no idea… fuck.”
his lips trailed lower and lower, down your chest and to your abdomen and you fought the urge to squirm beneath him when they grazed the waistband of your skirt. it was as though you forget how to speak when he pushed the material down your legs and scrambled around to move it away from you.
“fuckin’ missed this pussy,” he muttered and you gasped when he kissed over the top of your underwear. he couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sound but deep down he too was trying not to drive himself crazy at the small contact.
“chris…” it was barely there but he heard it and it just made him want more, made him slide the only piece of clothing standing in his way off until his pupils dilated in utter lust.
“tell me you want it,” he all but asked and from the rasp in his voice, how could you not?
“please… i want it,” you let yourself go and the corners of his mouth tugged up into a slight smirk before his lips latched onto the exact spot where you needed him.
it was immediate, the way your hands grabbed onto his hair and tried to pull him even closer. the erotic noises in the air were driving you wild combined with the feeling of his tongue lapping against you. it felt so fucking good and you knew he knew it just as well because he wasn’t coming up for breaks.
he was eating you out like a starving man whilst his hands tightly gripped the sides of your thighs, “taste so fuckin’ good angel.”
you moaned involuntarily and his tongue moved faster in response, a reminder of exactly who was making you feel good. you tugged on his hair when he sucked on a particular spot and he whimpered, the vibrations against you getting you closer and closer to the edge.
“please,” your body moved to meet his mouth more and his nails dug into your side.
“please what?” he asked you, lips barely leaving their spot as the words escaped him and you whimpered at the sensations consuming you.
“god ‘m so close,” you managed to whine out and he took it as his cue to suck harder until you were nothing but a withering mess.
he loved the control he had over you, loved the way your body flailed underneath him yet you obviously didn’t want him to stop. you moaned his name like it was a mantra and he wanted to play the words on repeat for the rest of his life. god he missed the sound of your begging and whining more than he thought. he was honestly obsessed with every part of you and he couldn’t even bring himself to think of what a fool he’d been for ever attempting to rid himself of that.
“yeah? you gonna cum for me baby?” his words were all you needed and he loved that he still had that effect on you.
your hold on his hair tightened as your body let go, a blissful feeling taking over as he raised his head, his chin covered in remnants that only seemed to turn you on more.
“i love you,” he said it yet again almost like he was solidifying his emotions and for a moment it remained in the atmosphere because it only felt right to allow it to do so.
your fingers trailed to his sweatpants and he grinned widely as you flipped him over so you were now resting above him instead. “i love you too,” you replied and he leaned up to kiss you simply because he could; it was deep and passionate and telling of everything he’d been feeling for the past month or so.
you removed his articles of clothing one by one and he allowed you to wordlessly, an admirable smile on his face and adoration painting his eyes. this was exactly what he needed and he knew you needed it too from your desperate gaze that raked over his now naked body.
“come on angel be quick about it,” he groaned as your fingers teased him and you smirked, a sight he wanted to capture in his head as if it were a mental picture.
“shh, we’re doing this my way.”
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