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dalliancekay · 6 months

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Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop....

...after this he drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, for the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. For Heaven. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And so for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3 (to I assume) even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he has (so thoughtlessly) done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book, my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I...did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating as well, and by furiously (but quietly) trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel I get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck (Crowley's 'What's the point of it all' at the beginning of S2). I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, but I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying from then on.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

How did Aziraphale spend the night after vanquishing the demons and starting a war? He had no idea where Crowley was. What happened to him. He was probably sick with worry that Hell just took him away. We didn't see him drink and cry, but surely, the worry must have been overwhelming. The wait for what will happen.

ALL his worries over the Arrangement. Was he worried for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thought he lost Aziraphale in S1, yes, we saw that. And what happened to the angel then?

He got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps. Why is he hurt? And why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, he doesn't deliberate, doesn't worry that he will Fall (although surely that must have been what he thought will happen if he survives this), there's no pomp around it, he thinks it and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was most likely gone. That he probably left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale? About his sadness?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. And first of all, he was suppressing his emotions OUT OF LOVE. His main goal was always to keep Crowley safe. They simply couldn't run away or hoodwink Heaven and Hell. They had nowhere to go. They had no hope and yet they kept loving each other. That's courage. I know we all grew up with Romeo and Juliet and Heathcliff and Cathy and we FORGOT that those were CAUTIONARY tales. And this is not what Aziraphale wants for them. He would never allow himself to go so fast he would hurt Crowley. He feels guilty enough for agreeing to the Arrangement and for meeting Crowley at all when he knows they can be discovered and punished at any point. And Crowley knows it and RESPECTS it. He does not tolerate Aziraphale's decision to not go on a date and to hell with circumstances. He understands Aziraphale's reasoning and he respects Aziraphale's decision. Don't forget, they have NO POWER. They can't change Heaven and Hell. They can't stop believing in God and work on their religious trauma. Their Heaven and Hell are real places with real power and they both BELONG to them. Aziraphale's trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd probably never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress like Crowley does. He will learn to be more open, I'm sure. With his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. They got a little bit of freedom for themselves despite ALL odds. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * One more note on grief: (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, not at all. But asking how I am can only end up in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do). I think...this would probably work not just for someone who is grieving but also for someone who you know is dealing with depression for example or a serious illness etc. Edit 2. It's now almost (in 15 days) a year since my brother died. The random attacks of pain and grief have lessened and I have started to do more of the things I enjoyed before... and I am able to answer how are you questions without feeling like they are trying to mock me (the questions, not the people). So I suppose things do get ... lighter? More diffused? I'm not sure. Because it's still exactly as unfair that my brother has not lived this past year as it will be however many years pass I expect.

#aziraphale #good omens #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #ineffable divorce #aziraphale my beloved #good omens thoughts #aziraphale defense squad #suffering in silence #grief #tw grief #dealing with grief #loss #tw death #kaypost

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gemini-atz · 1 month

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San as your Boyfriend ❀*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ('Realistic Imagines' + Astrology Based)

Background/Disclaimer: !!This is all my own interpretation based on my personal astrology knowledge and research. I consider myself an amateur!!

Contains NSFW, minors please use caution I will put all the harder nsfw headcanons under a warning in the text if you're looking for more fluffy feelings in general and would like to avoid.

Genre /: Smut, Imagines

Rating: 18+

Warnings: very jealous San, mentions of biting, unprotected s3x, collaring

Read about other members (WIP)

CHOI SAN SUN Cancer MOON Gemini MERCURY Leo VENUS Leo MARS Scorpio

A/N :San as a boyfriend is (how do I put this nicely)….a lot to handle! Maybe it's just my majority Gemini/Air chart talking but dating someone like San would probably be way too much for me. But if you're a water sign girly or love being obsessed over COME ON DOWN!!

**A reader let me know I had taken down San's Venus incorrectly, his Venus is in Leo! I reread all my notes/research and I do feel happy with most of my interpretation since I did lean heavily on his Sun/Moon/Mars overall. I'll be making minor edits in green bc there are a couuuple little things I would recontextualize;

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San as your boyfriend gives you a giddy feeling at least every other week like the one you got when you first started dating. Firstly, you probably have NEVER been pursued this hard by a man. San wears his heart on his sleeve and has a terrible poker face, and to be honest, he isn't really trying all that hard to hide his intentions. He really was shy on your first couple dates, after he awkwardly asked you out one day (and you're pretty sure you saw one of his friends in the distance barely hidden behind a tree, making cheerleading type gestures) his cheeks completely red, but eyes looking stoically to one side. He probably had no idea you'd been crushing on him for weeks, and needed plenty of convincing to go for it from his friends. Literally everyone in your office knew him as "the hot maintenance guy" who's ears got red whenever you said goodbye to him when he was passing the front desk. On your first two dinner dates after work, he was a complete gentleman, opening your car door and every door in your way for that matter. After a couple glasses of wine he was smiling his genuine sweet smile and that Leo Mercury came into full force, he was flirting with you in every sentence, making you feel like the most special person in the world. At the end of the night, nothing more than a kiss on the cheek.

By the third dinner date, you got impatient and leaned over to whisper something in his ear as you leave the restaurant that results in you being folded in half in the backseat of his car with his deep voice panting and moaning needily in your ear. From that point on, he feeds off any boldness you give him, the floodgates open and you feel like you're going to be eaten up by him. He has you calling into work just to spend more hours in bed together type honeymoon phase.

A Leo Venus and Scorpio Mars in tandem with his Cancer Sun make him deeply passionate and emotional and these placements often experience intense limerence and can end up accidentally love-bombing their target, and they can get a little crazy internally if they perceive rejection. He's just straight up jealous and moody and you'll need to be the type of girlfriend who doesn't always give in and give him what he wants. He needs a lot of attention and reassurance that he’s important to you, he adores you and wants to be adored back. He’s a guy that likes to look good and dresses nicely to go out with you, even if it’s a little coffee date. He is reassured and calmed by physical touch from you, and he probably wants to be the little spoon sometimes even though he’s shy asking about it at first. Genuinely one of the most caring people you've met and intensely loyal. When you facetime him after work he seems so happy to see you every time and you just can talk about nothing with him, even the most throwaway parts of your day he blinks and nods intently at. One of your favorite things about him is that you can still seem to fluster him by being the one to flirt boldly, complimenting his body after the gym would have him doing those shy little scoffs, trying to hide his pleased smile and all you can think is "The nerve of this man to act flustered after the things he did to me last night". Venus Leo’s areeee just a little bit vain, San knows he looks good but loves to hear it best from you. He likes to show you off, and he's always embarrassing you by wanting to take pictures of you if you're wearing a cute outfit. He'll get you to stand a few feet away and pose, while he says "My girlfriend is seriously too pretty." to anyone that passes by too close and watches the mini photoshoot.

These Leo Mercury men can LEAP to conclusions and in tandem with his other placements he can overthink your motives or actions to a detrimental degree, driving himself anxious. He needs to know what you're up to and will double and triple text if he doesn't hear back from you quickly enough. He’s literally the “you did that without me?” 🥺☹️ boyfriend about everyyyything.

If you comment while grocery shopping that another guy has a really cool tattoo, he might be uncommonly quiet for the rest of the day and then at bedtime turn to you with his face in the most over the top pout "Should I get a tattoo? It would look sexy right?” He might come off standoffish to your friends at first (mostly out of genuine shyness) and his severe looking expression could give them the wrong impression of him, meanwhile once you get back in the car he buries his face in his hands and just sighs dramatically "They hated me". It will take a few tries but soon your friends will love him, they will be completely won over by how well he takes care of you and how he looks at you while you’re talking.

When he’s kissing you, which is as much as he can possibly get away with, his hands are always up to no good. As a couple you're constantly late to dinners or events because the second you step out of the room all dressed up, he's walking toward you with that little shy smile before reaching you and kissing you, hugging you close and groaning "Babe…" in your ear (and yes, he's already hard). He's just obsessed with the faces that you make for him and only him and he loves having you all to himself.

His emotional side can come out at the drop of a hat, like when on your first anniversary you decided to buy him flowers since you'd heard most guys never get flowers from anyone in their life and the second you hand over the bouquet to him with a big smile he's reaching up to wipe his tears. He prefers to gift jewelry, especially necklaces so you can wear a physical reminder of his love everywhere you go. As a partner, he does need a lot of mental care and support from you. His moon can make him anxious at times, even though he can try to project a constructed image of complete fearlessness and dominance, with you, his love, he lets himself feel fear, self doubt and be soft and he trusts you to protect and soothe him.

NSFW Below

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San has a thing for ownership; I won't say a breeding kink but more of an ownership one. He doesn't like other men looking at you with what he feels are impure expressions (hypocrite!) and the times that he really needs to reassert himself are probably after a night out together dancing at a club. Of course your attention was fully on him (in fact you think YOU have better grounds to be jealous when he wears shirts that show off his chest like that) but seeing other guys expressions as they watched you press your body into him drove him crazy. He gets you home and in bed, gently kissing all over your face before he orders you to get on your hands and knees before fucking you relentlessly until your arms have given out and you're facedown in the pillow, blissed out from the force of how hard he thrusts into you, feeling his strong fingers sinking punishingly into your ass. It feels like he’s using you like a toy the way he’s manipulating your body and filling the room with lewd smacks. Eventually he releases you, planting both hands on either side of you and pressing his whole body down into yours, kissing his way up your back till reaching the base of your neck. “Do you like that? Mm?” His deep voice drives you crazy and all you can do is whimper a response while he plants more sloppy kisses in the base of your neck and biting down harshly into the joint of your neck and shoulder when he feels himself about to cum, groaning loudly at the precious little sounds you let out for him as he empties inside you. He only wants to mark you all over and fill you again and again to show you who you belong to, and how good he takes care of you. He'll definitely eventually gift you a collar, the everyday wear chain type that looks like a necklace, but with a small silver lock on the front that only he has the key to.

As your relationship progresses and matures, you'll learn the right buttons to push with him out in public to have him leaning over to grip your inner thigh roughly, smiling outwardly as he leans in to whisper "just wait till I get you home".

He’s a lingerie and matching set appreciator, like the fact that you would doll yourself up and put on something uncomfortable but really sexy just for him genuinely makes him feel so soft for you…and then really really hard for you. He's really into stimulating and sucking on your breasts and nipples, and the lingerie just makes them look so amazing for him. He'd be so gentle with you while you're wearing it because he doesn't want to mess any of the delicate garments up. He just sits you down in front of the mirror with your back leaning against his chest and taking his time to touch every part of you, kissing your neck and intently watching your expression in the mirror until you're so sensitive you feel like you might cum just from him pinching your nipples through the lace. Only then does he slide his hand down to finally give some attention to your swollen clit.

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Ty @cursedeastern for requesting San

(Also very new to tagging so if you do request something and prefer I not put your user in the text post or have another way to notify just lmk ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡ )

I'm still working on Seonghwa's because his chart is just so interesting lol I keep going off on a tangent like I'm doing an actual reading and forget to write in the romantic bits. But I'm hoping to post by this weekend.

I already had San fully formed in my mind due to my many run in's with Scorpio and Cancer men ( ╥ω╥ ) Y'all can KEEP EM' but also due to seeing his general behavior in videos...he really embodies the Cancer man to me

#choi san #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #san smut #ateez hard thoughts

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elllisaaa · 1 year

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how ateez would confess to you

-> words count : 3.7k words

-> genre : ateez members crushing on you

-> warnings : just a lot of sweetness

-> sorry if I made any spelling or grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | ateez masterlist

KIM HONGJOONG - JEALOUS

he’s the type to be bold. but like REALLY bold.

like he’s not embarrassed at all to check you out when you ask him if your outfit looks good and say “it looks more than good, don’t worry.” with that damn smirk screaming in my pillow.

he’s also very protective - always has his hand on the small of your back when you’re walking in a crowded place, and always gives you his jacket or sweater if you’re cold or feeling uncomfortable.

he has an eye on you wherever you two are going to be sure that you’re safe.

asks you to send him a message so he is sure that you’re home whenever you go out of work, or hang out late without him, or when he can’t walk you home.

that being said, it’s also a fact that this man is possessive.

have you seen him whenever an atiny mentions liking another group, or going to other concerts than theirs ?

he would be the same with you.

but since you’re not yet a couple, he tries to hide it as well as he can.

but jealousy would be his breaking point.

seeing you laugh and joke with some trainee of the agency he didn’t even know the name of really made his blood boil.

his death stare was burning holes in the back of the head of the poor boy you were talking with.

he would approach both of you, and as if the trainee wasn’t already intimidated by hongjoong presence, he was looking at him like he killed someone lmao.

the trainee was almost shaking when hongjoong dragged you away from him under a ridiculous excuse.

“- Joong ! Where are we going ?”

He didn’t answer, jaw clenched and his grip on your wrist almost painful as he brought you to his studio. Hongjoong closed the door behind the two of you, just to have the time to think about the way he was going to explain himself. He always succeeded in controlling himself and mostly his jealousy, but today, he didn’t exactly know why, it was too hard seeing you with someone else, laughing like you should be with only him.

“- Hongjoong ? What’s gotten into you ?”

He took a deep breath. Maybe it was finally the moment to say the truth. It would take a weight out of his shoulder, and he could have an answer to all his questions. Hongjoong turned towards you, a smirk on his lips.

“- You want me to be honest ?”

You simply nobbed, looking at him expectantly, and even if he acted confident, his heart was beating fast.

“- I didn’t like seeing you laugh with another guy. Well, I didn’t like it every other time it happened. But I think today was just too much to bear for me. Because I love you. I want you to be mine, only mine. I want to be the one who makes you laugh like that, and I want you to be the one who makes me laugh. What do you say ?”

The blush creeping on your cheeks as you listened to his words, and watched his grin widened was really noticeable. But your smile was even more telling to him.

“- I say yes.”

“from now on and forever, I won’t let you go. you’re mine.”

PARK SEONGHWA - SAFE

he is literally the sweetest person ever.

the type to text you throughout the day to ask if you have eaten and if your answer is no, expect him to be at your door in 5 minutes, drank or took a break.

so, so caring and always there whenever you need him.

mention that you had a bad day or are a little down ? expect a movie night, your favorite snacks and a lot of cuddles from hwa.

speaking of that, he sometimes always acts as if he was your boyfriend.

not that it’s bothering you, on the contrary, but he still claims to everyone that you two are just best friends.

and that’s confusing because he’s out there holding your hands, putting his arm on your shoulder, cuddling with you.

to be honest, seonghwa has been trying to make things ambiguous between the two of you lately, in hopes that you would take the hint that he likes you.

like that one time he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and you thought that he was about to kiss you.

so tonight, while he was laying on top of you on your couch, focused on the show playing on the TV, you decided it was time to clarify this situation.

“- Hwa ?”

The man turned his head towards you at the mention of his surname, big doe eyes watching you and waiting for what you wanted to say. You hoped that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

“- Can I ask you a question ?

- Yeah, of course.”

Seonghwa’s smile almost made your hands shake, and you came back to playing with his hair to try and hide it.

“- What are we ?”

It was as if the whole world had stopped spinning for Seonghwa. Was it finally happening ? Was this your way of asking him to be more than friends ? He silently prayed for it, closing his eyes for a second to gather his thoughts, and also to escape your piercing gaze that was making him even more nervous than he already was.

“- I’m willing to be whatever you want us to be angel.

- And what do you think of… You being mine, and me being yours ?”

Seonghwa giggled quietly, burying his face in the crook of your neck to hide the red tint on his cheeks. His arms, that circled your waist, tightened their grip, not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

“that’ll be perfect. that’s what i wanted us to be all along.”

JEONG YUNHO - SLEEPY

100% golden retriever energy, you can’t say otherwise i’ll fight.

i don’t know, he just gives this puppy boyfriend vibes, all fluffy and clingy and sweet, he’s just so cute honestly.

the type to always want to hang out, because his love language his quality time.

will make it a ritual to eat with you at least 2 times a week, weekend hangouts where you either simply go shopping or sometimes he plans activities, and movie nights too.

so smiley around you his cheeks hurts when he goes home after spending the day with you.

he gets especially giggly every time you do something a little silly, like when you trip while trying to show him something.

always makes sure you’re alright afterwards though.

to put it in a nutshell, he’s just very cute.

but he finds you even more cute, particularly when you’re all sleepy.

because then you snuggle up to him, seeking his warmth, and you often fall asleep on him, unaware of how much you make his heart flutter.

during your usual movie night, you felt tired and rested on his shoulder.

As Yunho heard your breathing become more regular, he assumed that you were asleep. He was always so glad that you felt safe enough around him to be this vulnerable. And mostly, he got to admire your beautiful face without risking you to catch him. He didn’t know why but tonight, he felt on the verge of telling you. And after all, you were asleep, you couldn’t hear him. He already said it to you a few times like that, what could go wrong ?

“- You’re breathtaking Y/N, really… I love you.”

As Yunho was ready to cover you with a blanket to keep you even more warm, your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“- Can you say it again ? I’m not sure I understood.”

His panicked eyes turned to your fully awake ones, looking at him with a mischievous glint. The poor boy gulped loudly, not knowing if he was going to be in trouble or if you were just messing with him, as you always did.

“- I-I love you, I really do. I just… It was easier telling you when you couldn’t reject me.”

A shy chuckle escaped him as he averted your gaze, missing the smile eating your whole face at his confession.

“- Look at me, big baby.”

And when he eventually did, you finally answered his silent interrogation.

“- I love you too, so much.”

Yunho engulfed you in the biggest hug, already taking advantage of your new relationship.

“I can’t wait to spend every day and every night by your side.”

KANG YEOSANG - PERFECT

he’s not very talkative, in the sense that he’s not always making remarks about what you tell him.

but don’t worry, he got it all written in his head.

it could be the most useless detail about a story that happened to you years ago, and he still will remember it.

because you’re too precious to him to forget anything about you he’s so boyfriend material.

the type to take notice of what you like to eat.

say that you love a certain type of food one time, and you’ll get it every now and then.

he remembers your coffee order from day one.

also a really good listener and give the best advice.

that being said, he’s the type to notice if you looked at something with envy in a shop, or said that you wanted this or that.

and bets that he’ll confess with a little gift that he bought for you.

maybe that’ll be a waste of money if you say no, but he doesn’t care, you’re worth it.

so he’ll buy this necklace you’ve been talking about for weeks, and come to you one day, almost out of the blue to offer it to you.

“- You shouldn’t have, really. That’s too much.

- It’s never too much when it comes to you.”

You were blushing like crazy, as much as from his words and how his fingers brushed against your skin as Yeosang attached the necklace for you. His eyes reflected nothing but love and adoration when he looked at you.

“- You’re beautiful, it suits you perfectly.

- Thank you so much Sangie ! But what is this for ? It’s not my birthday or anything special…”

Yeosang lowered his head for several seconds before mustering the courage to let the words finally spill from his mouth. They were coming out so naturally that it seemed like you were truly made for one another.

“- I wanted to give you this just because you loved it, but also to remind you how much I love you. And I don’t mean it in a friendly way. I like you. And I hope, if you return my feelings, that this necklace is gonna remind you of that everyday.”

Your smile was enough of an answer for him, but you took a step forward, putting your hand on Yeosang’s cheek and making his heart beat faster.

“- I’ll wear it everyday from now on. I must find something for you to wear and remember how much I love you too.”

“let’s get matching ones then, that’ll make us soulmates.”

CHOI SAN - FORCED

now this boy is the most obvious when it comes to crushes.

like all the members could tell that he was down bad for you since the first day.

but you didn’t seem to notice.

however, it was indeed very clear since he looked at you as if you put all the stars in the sky.

really, i don’t understand how you didn’t notice.

beside the fact that he’s literally a simp for you, he’s also been your best friend for several years now, and he knows you like the back of his hand except your undying love for him.

he had always been by your side : when you were sad or happy, when you had your first crush and even when you got drunk for the first time.

the members having obviously noticed how san was struggling to tell you how he felt, they tried to help him multiple times.

to be honest, this was not really efficient but at least they tried.

the latest attempt was at this little party they planned at the dorms, and of course you were invited.

at one point, everyone gathered to play truth or dare, and of course, it was a trick to get you two to confess to each other not very slick, yeah.

“- So San, truth or dare ?

- Truth, I have nothing to hide.”

His confident smile made you chuckle, knowing all his embarrassing secrets and also knowing how much he, in fact, had to hide.

“- Well, then tell us who your crush is.”

The smirk on Yunho’s face made a deep contrast with the defeated one on San face. You felt your own smile flatter as you tried not to look at your best friend. You knew this day would come. Of course San wouldn’t stay with you until your old days. Of course he would find a better partner. You were only his best friend, not his lover.

“- I… Uh-

- I thought you had nothing to hide, Sannie.”

The group laughed collectively at Wooyoung's remark, except you and San. You were almost ready to stand up and leave when your best friend turned to you.

“- Y/N… I really love you.”

Your eyes widened as San ran away immediately. Around you, the members were all whistling and making weird noises. But you didn’t hear them. You only heard San’s words again and again. Quickly after, you followed him to the kitchen. He had to know how much you loved him too. When you found him, he had his head pressed on the fridge, eyes closed and probably overthinking everything he had ever said and done.

“- San…”

He turned to you quickly, worry filling up his gaze.

“- Listen Y/N, I’m really sorry ! I shouldn't have said that in front of everyone, I should’ve kept it for a moment just between us, or never tell you at all in fact. I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable and I’m-

- San, stop.”

You took a step toward him, your smile eating your face.

“- We’ve known each other for years, you’ll never make me uncomfortable. Stop thinking too much, okay ? ‘Cause I love you too, since I don’t even remember when because you’re the most important person in my life.”

No answer came except his lips on yours, and his hand on your waist, pulling you against his body.

“i’ve always known that one day we’ll be together, and that one day i’ll marry you. but let’s keep that for later.”

SONG MINGI - DRUNK

the boy is a stuttering and nervous mess around you.

blushing everytime you smile at him, but denying it if you ever mention it before blushing even more, he’s so cute.

besides the fact he’s so impressed by your charisma and presence, he’s very funny around you.

the type to make the dumbest jokes and put himself in ridiculous situations if that makes you laugh.

because your smile and laugh are the most beautiful things he had ever seen and heard.

it’s so funny to see a big guy like him being so amazed by just one person, you find that really endearing.

but that also means that he’s not brave at all.

like, if he ever tried to just muster up the courage to tell you that he has the biggest crush on you, he would chicken out as soon as he saw you.

and I think that to be able to confess, he would have to take a little liquid courage yes, that means getting drunk.

one night, the boys were celebrating the release of their new comeback with some drinks and mingi asked you to come with them.

and of course, he’ll end up drinking too much, hoping that he would either stop thinking about you or finally telling you how he felt.

“- Y/N !”

Mingi’s scream made you jolt in place and turn around quickly, smiling when you saw him trying to walk straight in your direction, with his rosy cheeks and glossy eyes. He was cute, really cute. But you didn’t expect him to literally throw himself in your arms. You caught him as best as you could, shivering as his breath tickled your neck.

“- Are you alright Mingi ?”

He nodded his head, trying to steady himself and standing straight on his feet again. You looked up at him, preparing yourself to decode his slurred words.

“- Yeah… Yes, I’m alright but I wanted to say something to you… I really, really like you… I mean, like you, not like a friend, I want you to be my lover… Because I love you.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, and Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. His brain was all mushy just from seeing your gaze focused on him and only him, and alcohol wasn’t helping at all in controlling the blush on his cheeks.

“- I like you too Mingi, and I would like to be your lover too. But we’ll talk about this when you’re sober, okay ?”

________________________________________

“- I really said that ?”

You chuckled lightly, caressing his cheeks softly, diving in his mesmerizing, hypnotizing eyes.

“- Yeah, you did. But to be honest, it was very cute. You’re very cute anyway. So, would you like to be my lover Mingi ?”

The boy in question pecked your lips, smiling too.

“that’s not even a question princess. i’ll be by your side as long as you’ll let me stay.”

JUNG WOOYOUNG - IMPULSIVE

i see him as someone very spontaneous.

if he passes by a restaurant he likes, no matter what hour it is or what he has to do, he’ll stop and eat.

if he likes someone, he’s gonna tell them.

that’s what you love about him, and that’s also probably how you met.

he was certainly doing something stupid, as always, and ran into you, making you fall on the floor.

and boom ! you were best friends forever.

he didn’t stop doing ridiculous things, on the contrary since he noticed that you’re in the same mood as him and that it’s making you laugh, he’ll be doing it even more.

but the thing is that wooyoung wants way more than being friends since the first day.

but now that he’s got you in his life, he’s a little (very) afraid of losing you.

so he’s gonna try and hide his feelings as best as he can.

but when he passed by this flower shop, and saw your favourite ones standing outside, he couldn’t help thinking of you.

and that’s how he ended up at your door, with the flowers, trying to calm himself down.

“- Woo ? What are you doing here ?

- I.. Uh… These are for you !”

He handed you the flowers, feeling a blush creeping on his cheeks as you took them hesitatingly. Wooyoung never felt so nervous in his life. Even before his first concert, even before his first fanmeeting. Even with all the stressful events he had experienced being an idol, he never got so anxious.

“- Thank you, I guess ? What are these for ? It’s not my birthday, nor anything special I think.”

You chuckled at your own words, leaving Wooyoung asking himself why he did that.

“- Don’t get me wrong ! I like them, they’re beautiful and I’m surprised you even remembered what my favourite flowers were ! But why ? I don’t understand…”

He thought about letting out all the words he kept for himself for weeks, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead, he leaned in to kiss you. It was not even a peck : he kissed you passionately, like it was the last thing he got to do before dying. You let the flowers fall to the floor, dropping them without any regrets when you tug at Wooyoung’s hair, deepening your kiss. And his smile when you backed out for air told you everything you needed to know.

“i’ll buy you flowers everyday if it means i get to kiss you like this.”

CHOI JONGHO - TEXT

first thing first, this man’s smile could kill you and me, he’s so cute that’s got to be illegal.

the type to value your friendship so much, to the point he prefers to just be your friend than ever risking your relationship if he’s not 100% certain that your feelings are mutual.

his crush developed slowly, falling for you little by little and growing fond of you much more as time passed.

the members noticed how much he liked you when they saw that jongho lets you sleep on his shoulder whenever you are tired.

or when he willingly hugs you every time you need it.

he doesn’t like physical contact but with you, it’s natural and he sincerely appreciates it.

so careful when it comes to his feelings, because he doesn’t want to lose you or upset you.

that’s why i think he would confess through very, very long messages he’ll send late at night.

probably threw his phone away as soon as he did it, not wanting to see your response.

but that’s also why he did it : to let you choose if you wanted to respond or just ignore what he just told you.

so when you called the next day, he panicked.

“- Hi Jongho !

- H-Hi Y/N.”

At least, your tone seemed as cheerful as usually, and not upset or disappointed.

“- I must admit I was really surprised when I saw your texts when I woke up this morning. I was not expecting that at all.

- And… Is it in a bad or a good way ?”

Jongho didn’t want to pressure you, but he needed to know how you felt, needed to know if he should smile or bury himself six feet under.

“- In a good way, don’t worry.”

You clearly heard his sigh of relief, which made you both chuckle at the other end of the phone. And both of you had the biggest smile on your faces.

“- I’ll need at least two hours to even come close to a good answer and I don’t have the time right now. So just listen to that : I like you too, so much you can’t imagine. But if you’re willing to listen to my boring ramble for hours…”

“i love listening to you, I’ll never get tired of it..”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

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avatar-anna · 2 years

Text

Unknown Number

someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!

(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)

Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?

UN: you gave it to me?

UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number

UN: probably on purpose too

UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful

UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again

(one hour later)

HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.

HS: That is quite a dick move.

HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.

UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep

UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes

HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement

UN: you text like an old man

HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???

UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages

HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40

UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.

UN: you...might be right

UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can

HS: Well that's stupid.

HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...

UN: i'm blocking your number

HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.

UN: h? just the letter h?

HS: You could be a creep too for all I know

UN: fair enough. i'm june

HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.

UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.

UN: you too h

(three days later)

June (J): you're a guy right?

HS: I'm sorry?

J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it

HS: We're back to me being a creep?

J: it's a risk every time i text you

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?

HS: I'm not following...

J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?

HS: No. Why?

J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder

J: who was not as cute in real life i might add

HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.

J: that is not advice!

HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.

J: ...

J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here

HS: I'm sure.

J: what you don't have the same problem?

HS: I don't really date.

J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?

HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?

J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice

J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want

J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me

J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for

HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?

HS: That's not too personal, is it?

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked

J: you?

HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.

J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes

HS: House codes?

J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.

J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood

HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.

J: that sucks

J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?

HS: Easier said than done.

J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?

J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run

HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not

J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you

HS: Well said, June Bug.

J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since

HS: That's sweet.

J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?

HS: Have you?

J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre

HS: You didn't see him again did you?

J: ...

HS: June!

J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands

HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?

J: no ://

J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?

J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be

HS: I'm sorry.

HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

J: aw h you're making me blush!

HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!

J: no fair!

J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period

HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.

J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close

HS: Who?

J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

HS: I told you. I work in the industry.

J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?

HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?

J: no

J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once

HS: Is that a bad thing?

J: let's just say it won't be happening again

J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that

HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.

J: i texted you yesterday

HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.

J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person

J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job

HS: You're still gonna take it though right?

J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...

HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.

J: i guess

HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.

J: you're right.

J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford

HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.

J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.

J: i get that

J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me

HS: oh?

J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks

HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?

J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me

HS: are your clients nice at least?

J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me

HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?

J: not sure. i haven't dated one before

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?

HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass

HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself

HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.

J: oh my god

HS: What?

J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.

HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.

HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...

HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend

HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.

J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?

HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.

HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way

J: i guess that's true

J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.

J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.

J: a friend you say?

HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

(one day later)

Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.

It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.

And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.

Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.

One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.

Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.

Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.

Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.

Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.

"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.

"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.

"Holy shit."

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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scarletlizzard · 8 months

Text

Part 1: Get Help

Sessions Series

Pairing: psychiatrist Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: being stalked, paranoia, therapy, mentions of sex

Masterlist

Fall 2018

It was the same thing every day.

You wake up, make breakfast, and go for a run. You go to work, a normal 9-5 job downtown. After work, you would wind down by making dinner and sometimes taking a bath with a glass of wine. You go to bed around the same time every night, letting the sounds of I Love Lucy lull you to sleep.

Your routine was all but normal, though. You had a shadow.

Your daily jog was filled with turning your head, constantly aware of a presence behind you, one that you could never see. You thought it was over until one night when you were making dinner, you happened to look out the window and saw a person standing across the street. The glass of wine you were holding dropped from your hand onto the floor beneath your feet. You step back onto the glass and wince, tearing your eyes from the shapeless figure.

When you look up again, they've disappeared.

This happened for weeks until you finally gave in and told your friend one night over a bottle of wine.

"Look, this is them. They're back," you say, handing the phone to Natasha. She raises an eyebrow and looks at the blurry picture on the screen. Practically a black dot next to the bus stop a few houses down from yours.

"But why would they wait so long? It's been over a year, and.." she squints, staring at the picture. "That kind of just looks like a blob.." the woman says and sips her wine, a concerned look on her face at your frantic state.

"It's not. It's them! I-I swear I'm being followed, being watched... every where I go, it's like, I can feel them. The police won't do anything about it." You move your shaking hand away from her to gulp down the rest of your wine.

"Look, Y/N.." Natasha sighs and sets down her glass, turning her body to face yours. "I know you've been through a lot, everything that.. happened last summer. I think - maybe you should.. get some help." She tries to soften the blow of calling you crazy by resting a hand on your thigh. You only look to her with betrayed eyes.

"I'm not crazy," you speak calmly, your tone stern, but the crack in your voice only solidifies Natashas' point.

"I don't think you are, Y/N. Here.." She grabs her purse, pulling out a business card from it casually, as if she just happened to have it. You knew her better than that. "This is my friend. She's an amazing psychiatrist. Just talk to her, give it a chance."

You snatch the card away from her hands, not making eye contact with her. Natasha sighs again and stands, watching your leg bounce harder. She leans down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.." She trails off, unsure if you'd even reply.

"Love you." You mumble, pouring yourself another glass.

After she leaves, you stare at the business card in your hand, eyes settled on the name in bold lettering. You crumple the card, ball it up in your hand, and throw it across the room. It bounces off the wall with a small 'thunk'. Then you're left sitting, recalling the events of last summer.

***

Summer 2017

It was an exceptionally hot night. The air conditioner had been broke all day, leaving you sweating and fanning yourself with a magazine. Also leaving you with no choice but to leave the windows open, letting a cooler breeze flow through your quiet house.

You shot a quick text to Natasha- See you tomorrow, meet at the coffee shop near yours.

With a sigh, you rest your head on the back of the couch, listening to the voices on the TV. You get a strange feeling suddenly, your whole body covered in goosebumps, the small hairs on your arms standing straight up. You slowly open your eyes, staring straight ahead at the characters running around the screen.

"Get a grip, Y/N.." You mumble to yourself, patting your cheeks as if to wake yourself up. Maybe you just needed some sleep. Your anxiety seemed to be kicking up again. Your hands reach for the remote on the table in front of you, and you press the power button, turning the TV off.

It's then you see, in the black screen, reflecting an image not only of you but a person standing directly behind you.

***

Current Fall 2018

No, I'm NOT doing this right now.

You think to yourself, swallowing down your third glass of wine for the night. Instead, you get up to double -no, triple- check all of the locks in your house. The windows to the backyard, locked. The sliding glass backdoor, locked. The windows to the front of the house, locked. The front door, locked. The side door leading to the garage, locked. Windows in any bedrooms, locked. Your bedroom door and window, locked.

It was exhausting, but it was a routine you had been following for the past year. It kept you safe. You turn on I Love Lucy, drifting off into another nightmare with your mysterious shadow.

The morning after, you awake to your alarm and slap your hand on your loud phone to slide it off. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. The morning sun shines brightly in the room, the light warm on your skin.

I am NOT crazy...

You repeat to yourself over and over, a mantra easily spoken and believed in your mind. Breakfast was made and eaten, running shoes tied to your feet, laces double knotted, ID and cash in case of emergencies, and headphones settle snug in your ears. The first mile was fine, humming along to your music, and enjoying the cold fall. It was when you were heading back towards your house that you began to have that unsettling feeling.

Your panicked eyes look around as you jog, your head constantly turning from side to side as you look for your shadow. You find yourself reaching into your pocket, letting your hand grab onto the pepper spray you had brought with you. Only a little ways to go. It's fine.

Your pace sped up, but your shadow was creeping up closer to you. Your heart was racing. Sweat was dripping down your forehead. With your thumb gripping the spray, you suddenly turn around, spraying the shadow behind you.

"Ahhh! What the fuck!" A man screams, falling to his knees in front of you. Your heart was beating out of your chest at the sight of him, rubbing his eyes and screaming in pain. But on the sidewalk in front of him you see your emergency clip that held your cash and ID.

"Jason! Oh my god, what did you do to him?" A woman comes running up to his side, sliding her arm around him. "Are you crazy? You dropped this. He was trying to give it back to you!" She screams at you, throwing the clip in your direction. Dollar bills fly to the ground, and you back up.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't know, I thought he was - I didn't know.." Your voice trails off as you shake your head, hands shaking. "I didn't know.." You repeat it 4 times.

"Y/N, you're lucky he didn't press charges, I can't believe you actually pepper sprayed him.." Natashas voice sounded from the phone in your hand as you recall the events from the morning.

"I know, I can't believe I did either. I feel so fucking bad about it.." you hold your head in your hand, guilt filling your gut.

"It happened. There's nothing you can do about it now. He'll be fine.. people get pepper sprayed all the time," she tries to joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

You sit up and sigh into the phone, looking around the room. The TV playing, the dusty art supplies sitting on a desk in the corner. Your eyes find and focus on the crumpled business card on the floor by the wall. As you stand, your feet carry you over, picking it up.

"I'll talk to you later, Nat," you say, letting her say goodbye before you hang up. Your hands straighten out the card, and you once again read the name in bold lettering.

The clock on the wall read 5:28 as you sat, one day after work, on a chair in the hallway near the front door. You look around the hallway that leads to a massive house. It seemed the front was used for her practice, a room on either side of the hallway. One you assumed an office, the other a room to meet with patients. The clock ticked to 5:29, and your leg began to bounce.

The door on the wall across from you opens, revealing a brown headed woman with a warm smile on her face. She was taller, a creme colored blouse and brown pants settled on her legs. Her familiar green eyes find yours, and you both let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"Y/N.." Wanda says and holds out her hand to you, watching as you stand in front of her.

Your hand reaches for hers, "Wanda.." Her hand is warm and soft in yours. You know you linger too long in her grip. She leads you into room number two, a medium-sized room with one big, comfortable looking chair and an even more comfortable looking couch. Behind her comfy chair was an extravagant looking fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, and as you walked inside, your fingers trail the spines of the books that sat on them. It felt comfortable and safe. The sun was beginning to set, and an orange glow filled the room. Wanda sits in a chair, a notepad, and pen in her lap. You follow suit, sitting across from her on the couch.

"So, are you sure you want to do this? I'd be more than happy to recommend you to some other, highly recommended, co-workers of mine?" Wanda says with a smile, and you can't help but blush. She just had that effect on you.

"As long as you're okay with it, I am. I trust you, and right now, I really need that.." You mumble the last part, sitting back into the couch. Wanda nods, understanding of you.

One of the last times you saw Wanda she was in your bed, giving you what still stands today, the best orgasms of your life. Natasha had thrown a Christmas party where you met. You and Wanda came alone. You both had a lot to drink, and one thing led to another. You spent the night talking and laughing, getting to know each other as you came on her fingers. After that, you saw her from time to time, over a couple of months. She let you eat her out on your couch and fucked you against the counter in your kitchen. It was the best sex you'll probably ever have. You felt more alive with her than you had in years.

But then you had to leave town for work, and by the time you came back, the two of you had lost touch. Then, a few months after, during the summer, when your shadow appeared, you cut practically everyone out of your life.

"Well then, let's get started," Wanda interrupts your train of thoughts with a click of her pen, crossing her legs. "I reviewed the file you sent over from your stay at the Bay Point Medical Center. Do you want to talk about that?" She asks, her voice as smooth as honey.

You let out a shaky sigh, playing with the zipper of the bag you held in your lap. "I've always been.. anxious, since I was a kid. Always had these uh, routines. Tie my shoes until they felt right, flick the lights 4 times before bed."

"Were you ever diagnosed or tested as a kid?"

"No, my mom didn't believe in that sort of thing."

"So you were first diagnosed with OCD and Bipolar Disorder at Bay Point." Wanda makes a note. You tap your leg 4 times.

"Yes."

"So what led you to that moment, to that night?" Her voice is so inviting. You would tell her just about anything at this point.

"I'm sure it says in the file.." You clear your throat, suddenly being unable to look her in the eyes.

"There is a version, but I'd like to hear yours." Her eyebrows raise, pen hovering over the paper of the pad.

"It was a few days after I saw my shadow," you start, Wanda has a curious look on her face.

A pause.

"Your shadow?" She asks, you nod.

"The stalker, person watching me." You reply, she nods for you to continue. "I hadn't slept in days. The police didn't believe me. There was no evidence, they said, that anyone besides me had been in the house that night. So I went to the docks, and I-I bought a gun from some junkie. I'm not proud of what I did," you say, meeting her comforting gaze.

"I'm sure. You hadn't slept in days. You were delusional - sleep deprived. No medication, no diagnosis. Under extreme stress. Given the circumstances, I'm glad no one was hurt." Wanda concurs.

"Well, maybe not physically. But when you wave a gun around at 3 in the morning down the street, maybe a little psychological damage to the family that found me," you groan and put your head in your hands.

"The report said you had left a note at your house. What did it say?" Wanda asks, and you think back to when you scribbled on a piece of paper, what you thought would be, your last words. You're quiet for a moment. Wanda can tell you won't answer that question just yet.

"How about, who did you leave it for?" She asks.

"For my shadow."

The rest of the session you had spilled about your feelings that night and talked about you OCD and Bipolar disorder. You told her about your stay at the mental hospital, and told her about your routines. You spoke to her of almost everything.

"I think this session was really productive, Y/N. You've been very open with me, and I appreciate that." Wanda stood at the front door, smiling down to you. It was dark now, the sun at set completely. "I'll see you at the same time, Thursday?"

You nod and smile back at her. "I'll see you then." You walk to your car, feeling lighter. But you also can't ignore the hair on the back of your neck rising as you drive away.

***

Summer 2017

You scream loudly as you turn to see a figure behind you. A shadow, dressed in all black. A white faceless mask covered their true face. They stand still as you back away, slowly tilting their head to the side.

"Run." A menacing whisper, a familiar tone.

You run.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #dark fic

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rookiesbookies · 9 months

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Please I need more strength kink like you wrote for König but for the text of the COD men. Does Soap show off and lift heavier when he sees you saunter into the gym? Does Ghost try not to pay attention as you stare? I am down bad for these boys

So this is the most recent ask Ive gotten but dont fret my other requesters, yalls are taking more time bc they’re longer form pieces (I dont want to spoil but honeymoon/consummation night with Ghost (doing some research for this one), some Konig wifey bits (there’s two or three), and Ghost’s wife wearing his mask) Im so excited you all are interacting with me I just wanna say. I love you all *MUAH* big kiss.

Also I took Keegan off this one bc I don’t think I have a lot of Keegan fans reading? (ik I love him tho) so if anyone wants it just put a comment and I’ll write one and edit it so its in here.

Edit right here: I put Keegan down at the bottom. Dw Keegan girlies he’s here now.

Another edit: I put Krueger bc a reblog asked for it

Without much more here’s:

Strength Kink with the 141

Masterlist is pinned as always, also let me know if yall want any as full blown fics.

Price

Price is an “old dog” as he calls himself. He knows he’s getting softer, the wrinkles are setting in, he doesn't quite have the body he used to as a LT. Kinda got a dad bod after adopting 3 boys.

First time he sees you drool over him? He is down fucking bad. Will do anything to see his sweet lady all red in the face over him again.

Fucking saunters over to you, hits you with “you can feel if ya like, love. Go on.” just holds his arms away from his chest while he’s in his tank top.

If you take him up on this offer (and I assume yall are dating at this point) and even just grab at a peck, he is tense. His abs are tight, his butt is clenched, he is doing it all to seem like he still has his young and sharp LT body.

He knows you dont care and love his dad bod and all his soft pillowy goodness but sometimes he feels like the pillsbury dough boy.

Absolutely would pick you up and carry you bridal style at any chance.

Tells you he’s “just practicing” however he is very clearly showing off.

If you come find him at the gym to drool all over him, that max he was only supposed to do one of per set, he is not repping.

“John, are you sure- I’ve never seen you lift this much you look red-”

“I'm alright, love, just doing my reps trying to set a new pr.” Little do you know that by repping this, this is his new pr.

Gaz and Soap are sitting there mouth open because Price has never done that and not fallen over and now he just KEEPS. GOING.

And Price’s wife just keeps drooling over him as Simon spots the poor guy.

(This is what i mean btw)

Soap

The worst about it of them all.

I'm telling you right now, if you have an oral fixation on his muscles, he will mate for life like a swan. Because if you mark up his muscles he will do EVERY SINGLE WORK OUT shirtless until Ghost is like “Johnny. You look like a slut and smell like a whore with all that cologne. We’re in the bloody gym.”

He will walk around shirtless in the tightest sweatpants to show off his thighs and abs to you.

Will bench press you.

Put your weight on the hip thrust and will call you over or send videos of him doing it.

If you’re sitting somewhere he will just pick you up and move you for the hell of it under the excuse he wanted to sit there just to see you get red.

If you compliment his body once, I'M TELLING YOU ONE TIME, he will buy the TIGHTEST shirts imaginable around the house to show off his shoulders, back, pecs, biceps, and abs.

If you even mention having a bad day, your face is going between his pecs. He also absolutely can do the thing where he can flex them one at a time and he does it 24/7 for fun.

Catch him planking at the gym?

Feeling bold?Let’s shimmy under the poor bastard to look up at him.

“Do push ups.”

“Bonnie, the fuck you mean-”

“Come down, get a kiss, and go back up?”

“And if I fall? Which I won’t but I gotta ask.”

“Can’t feel any worse than when you dive onto the bed to wake me up in the mornings.”

He’s floored. Goes down, gets his kiss, comes up.

Price has watched Soap do more pushups than he ever has outside of a punishment when he was in basic training. Johnny has half the mind to let himself drop, smoother you in sweaty hugs and kisses. But he doesn’t. Not until he’s shown off. It’s embarrassing how much sweat is dripping from him though. He’ll just say you both need a shower.

Ghost

Totally doesn't flex when he hugs you.

Oh you think he does?

If you ask him, you’re wrong. Simon is the most casual of them all.

He’ll just randomly pick you up.

Like throw you over his shoulder, hold you like a koala, bridal style, you name it. Unlike Price, who is more careful about it, Simon has been doing exercises to work on his balance so he can safely carry you down a flight on stairs.

If he catches you staring, its over for him. He’s blushing under his lil mask, acting like he doesnt see you.

If you walk up and open your mouth to talk to him, he’s not listening to a word of that blabbery. He’s focused on the way you watch his legs while he’s in the leg press. How if he flexes a bit more you have the pause so you don’t choke on your words.

If you’re the bold on and you get down to the level of his head because he can’t easily escape this machine right now to say something. I'm thinking like a “Simon, I’m going to need a thigh riding session at 1800 hours. Put that on your damn schedule.” And just walk out. Don’t elaborate.

He’s struggling to get out of the machine, considering chasing after you, possibly having a stroke over it. He’s so flustered he’s down right gasping for air. If he didn’t have shit to do today he’d scoop you up and show you want all these muscles could do just to get you to feel like how flustered he is.

Konig

(see the fic about his wife seeing him lift, its on my masterlist (its pinned))

Gaz

By the time you’ve started dating, you know Gaz is jacked. Just look at him ffs. Anyone could see it.

So you do the only reasonable thing and insist on being his gym partner.

And in turn he will insist on spotting your squats.

If you get so nervous you fail a set his plan springs into action. Bro has it lifted in one hand. He doesn't care if it's a lot. He WILL be lifting it in one hand just so you can see how strong he is.

“Kiss for your savor?” He asks.

“Sure.” You reply, pecking his lips.

But no no no.

“Love, I meant you’re actual savor.” He’d say, flexing that one arm and pointing to it.

Just roll your eyes and do it. It’s easier.

He is GLOWING for the rest of the day. He will now take any and all opportunities to lift heavy things for you.

That big box? Lifted. Come kiss his muscles. Cuz if you don’t he's picking you up and putting you in air jail for being ungrateful.

I feel like because Gaz is so lean its kinda a sleeper build situation? Could be completely using that term wrong but IDC.

Lowkey loves nothing more than you feeling up his abs under his shirt when yall are going to bed. Like your hands feel so nice on them when he’s flexing extra hard so they’re rock solid for you.

First time yall cuddled he almost passed out because he was trying to keep his muscles flexed for so long.

Edit: here’s Keegan

Keegan

Keegan was always walking around the house in the sluttiest tank tops and the lowest waist line sweatpants you’ve ever seen.

He had been showing off since he first met you, so I’ll tell you how it happened.

What did he wear on your first date? Tight ass t shirt and a leather jacket with black jeans.

He essentially was giving a strip show when he slowly took off that jacket, made sure you were watching when he did it with a smug look.

“What wrong, doll? Distracted?” He was definitely flexing hard. Pecs and biceps on full display and don't get me started on how he was clenching to get his abs to show through.

He made sure to get real close to.

Oh dear is that a dirty puddle, let him just… yk… casually pick you up to carry you over the smallest puddle ever.

And when he’s at the gym? You are getting tons of selfies. Those videos of him curling weights that are slightly too heavy all because he knows you like the sound of the groans he makes as he struggles to lift it. Oh he is hip thrusting your weight and a half, so you know you’ll never be too heavy. There’s a video he sent that was 10+ minutes of just him thrusting your weight. You honestly thought it was looped.

Oh and he carries your weight when he runs on the treadmill so he knows he and run and keep you safe if need be.

Here’s Krueger (i got carried away, enjoy)

Krueger:

Sebstian knows he’s already strong.

Picking you up and benching you is his favorite hobby. The way you can't help but giggle and he has to scold you to stop wiggling.

He’s always throw around his weight with you. He knows he’s a big. He loves to lay on you to stop you from moving.

Loves to have you lay on his torso with the weight at his hips as he works on his hip thrusts. Got kicked out of a gym because it was dangerous so he got weights to do it at home. Will do it shirtless so you can trace his tattoos.

Definitely has never told you he committed murder because he doesn’t want you to stop looking at him like he’s your savior as you rub his sore muscles.

God he loves having you rub his muscles, he just tries not to drool as you rub his calves and biceps with all the force your hands can muster to gently rub the knots away. One time he felt so good he almost cried as you rubbed one out of the back of his neck, he got so bricked he couldnt help it he felt like he was gasping for air the pleasure was so intense.

He’d never tell you that tho, no he’d rather die and speak up and tell you how good it feels when your massage his muscles while planting small kisses after every knot you work out. Definitely going to keep asking you to work his aches away… wonder if he can convince you he has a knot in his dick, no no wouldn’t do that to you not yet.

#cod x reader #call of duty #john price #captain price #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig #soap x you #john soap mctavish x reader #soap cod #soap x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick

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taffywabbit · 1 year

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idk if i'm way off the mark on this, but the way some people are responding to that Guillermo del Toro interview about the decline of studio animation is a bit frustrating to me. specifically the bit where he talks about "emoji animation" and how everything is over-animated and pushed too far and things are rarely allowed to not be ultra-cartoony (y'know, because animation always needs to be marketable to children who are never trusted to have attention spans, right?). like, i think he's generally correct about it! but some folks are taking the wrong message away from that.

i've seen people going off about how "soulless" and "corporate" various recent examples are, and talking about these pieces of media as though they're the result of some kind of personal failing or lack of skill/range on the part of the animators, and it's just like. do people realize that's the only animation you're usually allowed to DO in the industry, unless you get incredibly lucky and land yourself on a project/studio that's unusually cool?

when i was in college for animation it was literally drilled into us nonstop that everything had to be pushed more, that exaggeration was not a guideline or a sometimes-treat but a hard rule that always had to be applied regardless of what was going on, because the viewer couldn't be trusted to pick up on subtlety and we sure as hell couldn't be trusted to convey it. you ever wonder why there's such a specific vibe to a lot of self-directed student films, particularly ones that are focused on character acting/interaction or deep emotions and introspection (especially when there's minimal/no dialogue)? it's because for a lot of young animators, they haven't had the freedom to experiment with realism and subtlety up to that point and they're likely not going to have it again for a while (or at all, unless their career path leads to higher positions where they might have more creative direction over the things they work on. which also becomes a lot less likely if they're anything other than a cishet white dude, for what it's worth).

i would LOVE to see more nuanced, realistic, understated motion and acting in animation. i WANT more characters to be able to express what they're feeling through natural body language and facial cues and for scenes to allow me to breathe instead of spelling everything out in giant bold flashing text all the time. what del Toro wants to see changed in the animation industry sounds great, and i hope others join him in seeking to revamp what modern animation is allowed to be.

but as things currently stand, and as they've stood for a long while now, most artists doing the grunt work on the shows and movies you see are completely at the mercy of corporations and networks who have a vested interest in producing a very specific kind of marketable and cost-efficient media all the time. (and by extension that style is ALSO what's taught in most animation schools, because their job more than anything is to grind you down into a perfect little sweatshop worker who will bend over backwards to meet quotas and get your work approved and not question the higher-ups, even if you have little to no personal investment in the projects you're working on, so that the studios who employ you can maintain their good reputations or whatever)

anyways idk what my point was here, this really just sorta became a rant and my views have undoubtedly been coloured by my own personal experiences (this kinda shit is largely why i dropped out before my last year of animation school, for the record).

i guess just be kind to folks in the animation industry? they've had it fucking rough nonstop for well over a century (the majority of them are still not unionized and there's HUGE pushback against doing so in many places). i assure you they are doing their best to infuse the latest uninspired illumination flick or weird spinoff kids' show with literally any amount of soul they can. you don't have to like the stuff that gets produced by any means! be a hater! i'm certainly not gonna stop you. just remember where these creative decisions come from and why these conditions exist, and consider that when YOU watched something and thought "hmm that could've been done better", you can bet your ass someone actually working on it probably thought the same thing but couldn't do anything about it. these things WILL change as the industry itself improves, but in the meantime folks have to pay their rent, and that usually means doing what they're told and working in a way that will minimize revisions and meet quotas so they can keep their jobs. it sucks, but it is what it is.

#buny text #long post #animation #i don't have a rant tag because i don't necessarily want to encourage myself to make posts like this frequently #but this is obviously a touchy subject that's close to home for me and it felt important to get it out #i realize i am on the Getting Super Mad At People Who Make Popular Media website so hopefully this does not bite me in the ass

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nelyastudies · 4 months

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head-in-the-clouds student essential tools (that’s me!!)

i always have study difficulties (before it was unsuitable environments and adhd symptoms and now pseudo-dementia from chronic depression 💀💀💀) and over the years, these are the tools that help me the most hehe. i hope these will help you as well whether you have difficulties or not :)

goblin.tools

the tagline is "breaking things down do you don't". If you are, like me, easily feel overwhelmed by a task and doesn't know where to begin, this program will help you tremendously. it will break down a task into minuscule mini-tasks that feels manageable. you just need to add a task into the text bar, set the spiciness level (how difficult the task appears to you) and hit the add button (+) to add the task, and then hit the wand button. a series of smaller tasks will appear and you can start doing it one by one. the app is paid, but the website is free to use.

bionic reader

this add-ons will apply bold to words in a way that enhances its readability. I don't know how they do it, but i feel like i was reading faster and comprehend more by turning it on. I feel like my focus is improved, too. This was truly a game-changer for me. Im currently using its mozilla firefox free add-ons, but i think theres one for chrome and iOS as well.

brainscape flashcards

know a lot of people, esp medical students use anki, but i was unfortunately got distracted by the UI and the effort it took to organize things. so instead i use brainscape. it works similar way to anki with spaced repetition, with the bonus of more buttons to press and an animation screen that congratulates you on level achievements. the minus is that it has no cloze functions, no table function, no heatmap, no image occlusion, or image function really (unless u paid for a premium plan). definitely use anki and its myriad of add-ons first to see if it works for you. if the brain issues prevent u from thriving in anki, then use brainscape.

focus to do

i tried a lot of pomo apps and i think this works for me best ^^ it also has a built-in forest app (ish) that i love. It also has a subtask function which is very helpful for easily overwhelmed little guys like me

ambient noise

there are a looooooooot of websites and apps that I use over the years (I literally started using coffitivity since 2014) and I have no tips on choosing them–you just gotta experience them to find what’s best for you. among my favorites are mynoise.net, coffitivity, focus@will, calmyleon, and jason lewis’s Mind Amend channel on yt. sometimes i also just put a full concert in the background and roll with it, though.

#studyblr #studyspo #study resources #medblr #study tips #med studyblr #tips #resources #nelyaps

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sugusearrings · 11 months

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( ‘ better .’ ) You keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feeling it now? Cause I am. You keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feeling it now? I got so high the other night, I swear to God, felt my feet lift the ground. I got so high the other night, I swear to God, felt my feet lift the ground. Oh yeah, Your back against the wall This is all you’ve been talking about In my ears Nothing feels better than this.

— summary: gojo satoru is living a life nobody knows about. not even his two bestfriends. he wants you (fem!reader) all to himself. — genre: super fluff but the end :( — playing: better by khalid — note(s): this song reminds me of gojo so much just being happy and living his life. daddy gojo needs a happy ending and come home already! 😭 but i'm so so sorry for the end please forgive me. very brief mention of smut though. might be some spelling errors, kind of tired and lazy to do rn sorry. — word count: 3k

Satoru Gojo is the strongest sorcerer alive.

He is the honored one.

He is gifted with the Six eyes.

And he is one cocky motherfucker. He always knew about the power he contained which did give him an ego boost. Nobody can tell him otherwise, he is the strongest and honored one.

Many would wonder who would put up with Satoru and his egoistic attitude? Underneath it he is very caring of everyone and he can be funny too. Sometimes. Or at least Shoko and Suguru would say. But they did enjoy their snowy color hair friend and of course he loved his two closest friends.

It was just another day of Gojo bragging how he conquered today’s mission. Shoko was texting on her phone while Suguru was ordering a coffee at the cafe they stopped at because Gojo was whining and pleading to go there since last week. Gojo stopped rambling as his perfect shade of blue eyes looked through the glass of the treats they had on display. Suguru noticed his friend eyeing all the sweets. He knew where this was going.

“Are you really going to waste money on all those sweets, Satoru?” Suguru asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Gojo looked over at the raven hair boy and grinned. It was like he read his mind.

“And why wouldn’t I? Shouldn’t the strongest get a reward?”

That’s when he heard it. He heard a gentle giggle coming from inside. The cafe was small so it didn’t take long for Gojo to see you with your group of friends. He saw the group wearing the same school uniform so it was obvious you all went together. He wasn’t sure if you were giggling at him or with your friends.

But it caught his attention.

He was so caught up staring at you he didn’t even hear the cashier trying to get his attention so they could take his order. He waved them off before making his way over to you.

“That was bold of him.”

Shoko said, reaching to grab Suguru’s coffee for a sip. Suguru nodded. He was taken aback by Gojo's sudden action. His dark hues watched as his best friend brought a chair to sit at your table to talk to you. He noticed the faint blush on your cheeks as you laughed at one of his corny jokes.

“Very bold.” Suguru smiled at Satoru coming back towards them with a cheesy grin on his face.

“Not only am I the strongest and honored one, I am the most handsome.” He announced proudly.

“Is that so Satoru?” He chuckled while taking his coffee back from Shoko. Gojo nodded, getting back on line.

“Very much so, Sugu!”

The two boys looked over seeing you shyly wave at Satoru before leaving the cafe. “She thinks I’m very handsome.” He winked at Suguru then turned to wave goodbye to you.

“She probably said that so you can leave her alone.” Shoko chimed in. Suguru chuckled watching Satoru pout like the brat he is.

“Oh yeah? Then why would she give me this?”

Satoru proudly showed your name on a napkin along with your number. Shoko took it to examine it while Suguru’s bangs draped over her head as he leaned over to read. They were pretty shocked his corny lines actually worked.

“Maybe she’s desperate.” Shoko mumbled. Satoru gasped dramatically, holding his chest with his hand.

“Hey!”

“Name..is very pretty. But she’s definitely a non-sorcerer. Maybe she does actually like you, Toru.” Suguru smiled. Satoru was still pouting, and took out his yellow flip phone. “I’ll text, name right now!”

Satoru grumbled. He glanced over to see his slice of strawberry cake ready to be eaten. He handed the cashier his card and grabbed the bag.

A whole day passed and Satoru received no text back. Of course his friends teased him about how you gave him a fake number. He started to lose some hope. Maybe his friends were right. Maybe you gave him the wrong number just so he can leave you alone. It kind of hurt but he wasn’t going to tell Shoko and Suguru that. He really thought you two hit it off the other day.

Satoru was actually in his dorm just laying on his bed in the dark. He was actually nodding off into a nap when he heard his phone buzz. He groaned quietly, reaching over for it. He assumed it was Suguru texting him to ask where he was. But when he saw an unfamiliar number he furrowed his white brows. He opened the text.

hey satoru. it’s me, name.

He quickly sat up and sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes widening and his heartbeat stops. You actually text him.

heyyy name. wat’s up?

Was that too basic? Was that too dry? Shit. Why did he reply so fast?! Now he looks desperate.

Another buzz.

i’m good! srry i didn’t reply yesterday, i got caught up studying and ended up passing out with my book on my chest.

Satoru chuckled lightly, imagining you so tired you slept with the book in hand.

u probably looked so cute like that.

Buzz.

oh please lol

no seriously! but don’t study too hard, don’t want you too tired you’ll forget about lil old me

i’m sure it’ll be hard to forget someone like you, satoru.

He smiled down at his small screen reading over that text.

You confirmed to Gojo that you were a non-sorcerer without even saying it.

You went to regular school and had a pretty normal life. You were raised by a single mother who works in a hospital as a nurse. You had a younger sibling who was in grade school. You hated math but really loved literature. You wanted to be a teacher not so much a nurse because you saw the long hours your mother worked. She didn’t have too much time for you or your sibling so most of the responsibilities were left on you. Your favorite color was blue ( of course he made a joke it was your favorite now because of his eyes - he might be right on that but you didn’t tell him that ). You also had such a sweet tooth.

Gojo decided not to tell his best friends about you replying to him. Maybe it was selfish of him to keep them out of it, but he just didn’t correct them when they asked about you again. Soon it was forgotten and nobody brought you up. Gojo also kept it to himself of his power, him being a sorcerer. He just told you he went to a good private school. Lucky for him, you didn’t ask any follow up questions.

Whenever he had a long mission and it would be hard to text you back, he would just say he was studying for an upcoming exam. You were very understanding because you were going through the same thing. But when Gojo did come home, he would call you.

You two would speak on the phone for hours. He liked the sound of your voice. He liked the silence you two would share on the phone. It could be a whole hour of silence and he was content just hearing you hum a little tune or curse under your breath while you were looking for something you misplaced. Gojo would fall asleep to the sound of your voice late at night. You would tell him goodnight before you went to sleep yourself. Being with you, Satoru was not the strongest.

He was not the honored one

He didn’t need his Six eyes.

He was just Satoru Gojo.

When Gojo didn’t have missions, that’s when you two spent time together. You two would flip a coin to see if you were going to one of his favorite restaurants or one of your favorite museums. The day would always end at the cafe where you two met. You two would share a slice of strawberry cake and each would take a turn eating the strawberry on top. But Satoru would always pretend he would forget whose turn it was and would let you eat it.

When you graduated school, you did invite him to the ceremony. You swore you didn’t see him in the crowd. But he was there, cheering your name so loud it caused you to flush and get a little embarrassed. After the ceremony, Gojo hung out with your family and they adored him. Your sibling thought he was so funny and your mother couldn’t get over how charming he was.

When it was time for him to go, you walked him downstairs. You insist you would walk him to the bus but Gojo rejected the offer. He didn’t want you walking back by yourself.

“Thank you for coming, Satoru. It means so much to me.”

You told him with a smile looking up at him. Gojo felt his throat drying up and his palms becoming sweaty. He bit down his lip feeling his heart race picking up. You noticed he was awfully quiet. You furrowed your brows. “Toru?”

Gojo leaned down to press his lips against yours. You froze up a bit before you could react, Gojo pulled away quickly.

“I-I’m sorry I-I just couldn’t…I-...fuck!” He yelled, grabbing the bridge of his nose dropping his head. You stood frozen not even noticing him having a melt down. When you finally snapped out of it you saw the dark red on his cheeks with a frown. “I-I didn’t mean to cross the boundaries like that honestly, name. I won't ever do it aga –”

You pulled the collar of his jacket down enough so you can kiss him back. His eyes widened behind his sunglasses. He reacted faster than you did, he placed his hand on your cheek and began to kiss you back.

So you two began to date once the summer began. Did much change between you and Gojo? Not really. Your mother and friends were surprised you two just now became a couple. They just assumed you two were already dating.

He was just a lot more affectionate. He would hold your hand anywhere you two went. He would kiss you while waiting to cross the street or hold you from behind. Gojo would take pictures of you or the two of you whenever he could. When he would pick you up he would have a gift or flowers. Most of the time it was both.

He was the perfect boyfriend. Your friends loved him so much he was always invited when you guys would hang out. Even girls night, they would invite Gojo. They love when he would come for karaoke especially.

Gojo liked this life he had on the side and didn’t have to share it with anyone. He wanted to keep you away from that as much as possible. All to himself.

But at the end of the summer, everything changed.

Gojo was late to come over for a date you both planned. He’s never late to anything. He even shows up at least half an hour early. When you were calling and sending texts over and over, you knew something was wrong. So you just waited till it was time to go to sleep.

Late at night you woke up to a pair of cerulean blues staring down at you.

“Gojo?!”

You nearly yelled startled. He hushed you not to wake up your sibling who was sleeping. You sat up and was ready to ask him so many questions. Like how did he get inside of your apartment? Why was he just showing up now? But Gojo fell onto his knees then broke down into sobs. Tears streaming down his now red cheeks. The cry was from heartbreak. You got off the bed to comfort your boyfriend.

That’s when you found out about his best friend, Geto left.

And everything else.

It took a few days for Gojo to explain everything to you. About curses, his mission, his six eyes, his friends, and everything else. It honestly made your head spin. At first you thought he was mad and just making it up. But once he showed you his infinity and tried to get close to him. You physically couldn't. It was like a force field was keeping you two apart. You were dating Satoru Gojo, The strongest sorcerer alive.

The honored one.

Gifted with the Six eyes.

Did that change anything between you two? No.

You just wish he was honest in the beginning but you understood.

It was a lot to tell anyone who wasn’t part of that world.

Gojo barely left your side since his best friend Geto left him after killing the entire village and his parents. He wanted to kill non-sorcerers like you.

“But Toru, Suguru can just come any day now and kill everybody.”

You frowned as you stroked his white hair as his head was laying on your chest. He liked to hear your heartbeat and cuddle into you. He picked up his head with his beautiful blue eyes staring at you.

“You don’t think I can protect you, name?” He asked you. You shook your head sitting up making him sit up.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You might as well have.” He shook his head. You frowned.

“Satoru, it’s kind of scary to hear your friend wants to kill people like me, who aren’t sorcerers.”

“But he won’t!” He raised his voice making you lean back. Gojo grabbed both of your hands and stared into your own eyes.

“I promise to protect you with everything, name. I swear nobody, even Suguru, will never lay a finger let alone breathe the same air as you. I love you so much, name I can’t lose you too. I’ll never let you be in any kind of danger because of me.”

Your face was heating up while you stared at him eyes wide.

“Y-You love me, Satoru?”

Gojo blinked, realizing he confessed his feelings to you just now. He could feel his own cheeks heating up. He let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I guess I got lost in the moment. Just trying to be heroic to my girlfriend.” He laughed nervously. You giggled and placed your hand on his warm dark pink cheek.

“I love you too.”

Gojo gives you his infamous grin before he kisses you passionately. That same night you and Gojo made love for the first time. It was the first time for you both. Gojo could feel himself becoming nervous for the first time in his life. You could tell he was but you reassured him you trusted him. You love him and he loves you. He made sure to be gentle with your body. He would look up at you with his white thick eyelashes fluttering with his blue hues darkening with lust. “Is this okay?” “I’m not hurting you am I?” “You’re doing so good...such a good girl.” “You look so pretty taking me whole like that.”

It took two days for Gojo to finally lose some stamina.

Satoru felt the weight being lifted off his shoulders when he told you the truth. But he still kept you separated from that life. The further you were from it, the easier it would be to protect you. You weren’t mad but some days it was overwhelming seeing him come home with bruises or blood on his clothes.

There were nights you would wait up for him and he wouldn’t come home till the early morning. You did feel helpless you couldn't do more for him but he reassured all he needed was you to be home waiting for him. But you stood by him for all these years. Especially when he brought in two children named Megumi and Tsumiki to live with you both.

After graduating university, you moved in with Satoru. He became a teacher at his old school and you became a teacher in grade school. You grew a bond with Megumi and Tsumiki. Both knew you weren’t a sorcerer but didn’t treat you any different. They both saw you as a mother figure and adored you.

After a long day at work you walked into the cafe where it all started.

Where you met your husband for the first time.

You could still hear his cheerful laugh and his gorgeous smile.

His eyes practically glowing whenever the sunlight would graze against them even with the shades on.

“Welcome! How can I help you?” The cashier asked with a smile. You smiled back already knowing what you wanted to order.

“Hi can I get a strawberry cake,” you started then paused a bit but the cashier was patient, “sorry I kind of got stuck for a second, haha.” you giggled. The cashier nodded and wrote it down on her pad. “Oh also can you write something on it. “It’s a ghoul?” The cashier looked up with a wider smile.

“Because it’s Halloween right?” She giggled. You smiled again.

“Yeah! ” You handed her your card. She gave the card back once she was finished ringing you up.

“I think it’s cute. You’re practically glowing.” She gushed, making you blush a light pink. You walked over to take a seat. You reached into your purse to take out the sonogram you had done earlier before going to work. You smiled warmly seeing your precious baby resting in your belly. You could see the circle they made with the computer with the “IT’S A GIRL”.

You knew your baby was a girl.

Your hand was placed over your slightly swollen belly. Your wedding ring glistening by the light. You checked your phone for the time then you started to look at all the photos you had of Gojo or the both of you. There were some photos of Megumi and Tsumiki. There was a video you took when you told Gojo the news you were pregnant. He nearly broke the ceiling. Literally. You let out a small giggle. You knew he was going to be over the moon finding out about your baby girl.

What you didn’t know was that

Satoru Gojo

The strongest sorcerer alive,

The honored one,

Gifted with the six eyes,

Was being sealed tonight.

#drabbles #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #jjk fanic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #( sugusearrings writing * )

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ginnsbaker · 5 months

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (8/?)

Part summary: Leigh heads off to Palm Springs with Danny, while you grapple with what to do about your feelings for her.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader, temporary Leigh x Danny | Word count for this part: 5.000+ | Warnings : Slight angst | Author's Note: No, I did not forget about Danny still not being honest with Leigh and R not tattling on Danny. Just let these loose ends dangle for a while. Anyway, enjoy! :)

The morning after you gave Leigh a puppy for her birthday, your phone is flooded with texts from her, filled with questions ranging from vaccine schedules to the best chew toys. She shares a story about how Rogue, their previous dog, had always been Matt’s, and how she often felt left out of his care. Now, with Logan, she feels a full sense of ownership and is eager to get everything right.

You still flinch slightly whenever she mentions her late husband. It’s as if she forgets that you and Matt had something significant too, as if you weren't once the secret he kept close. Sometimes, you wish you could just erase his presence, simplify everything about your relationship with Leigh.

But you recognize that it’s selfish to wish him away, because Matt was a significant part of Leigh’s life, a major influence on who she has become. And who she is today is a lovely person—someone you've come to admire very deeply.

[6:20 AM] Leigh: Logan’s an angel, slept through the night.

[6:35 AM] Leigh: So, house training... how do I make sure Logan doesn’t turn my bed into his personal bathroom like he did five seconds ago?

You grimace at the message, picturing the hassle of laundering the sheets and possibly needing to call a cleaning service for the mattress.

[6:54 AM] Leigh: And shots? Rogue was all up to date because Matt was on it, but I’m clueless. Where do I start?

As you work your espresso machine, a grin spreads across your face, the kind that makes you feel like a complete fool but in the best possible way.

[6:56 AM] You: Good morning! You’re lucky I don’t bill for text consultations 😆

You typically charge $18 for a twenty-minute chat with a client.

[6:58 AM] Leigh: Oh. How much do I owe you? I want to pay.

Your smile falters a little at her missing your joke.

[6:58 AM] You: I was just kidding. Your texts are more than welcome, Leigh.

Feeling bold, you follow that up with something you've been wanting to make clear since last night.

[6:59 AM] You: This is what friends are for, right?

Waiting for Leigh’s reply feels like an eternity, and you're about to send another text to walk back your hint at friendship when your phone vibrates.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: I’d feel better paying. Can I drop by the clinic later?

Reading her message, you're hit with a rush—excited at the thought of seeing her, yet downhearted she's talking about paying, as if that's what's between you. But then, those little typing dots appear. You're practically holding your breath.

[7:00 AM] Leigh: We’re friends, which is why I’m paying.

It's a good thing you don't have a roommate, or else you'd never get away with grinning like an idiot at your phone. It's a bit ridiculous, you think, how high school this all feels—waiting for a glimpse, a moment, anything.

[7:01 AM] You: Absolutely, come by anytime. Looking forward to it 🙂

You hit send and lean back, trying to act like you didn't just have a mini celebration over a text.

And then, spurred by Leigh texting you first thing in the morning, you decide to add her on your social media accounts. You spend an extra fifteen minutes getting ready that morning, simply because you lingered longer in the shower, listening to songs that remind you of Leigh and how this crush is dangerously close to becoming something uncontainable.

[10:13 AM] Notification: Leigh accepted your friend request.

As it turns out, Leigh is a serial texter.

It’s odd, really. For someone who might come across as reclusive and somewhat untouchable, she is surprisingly talkative over text. The messages start coming in more frequently after this morning's exchange, just moments after you've finally left home to drive to your clinic. What's even more interesting is that this time, they're not about Logan.

And they’re all unusually random and unrelated to one another: memes that make you laugh out loud, articles on topics ranging from the philosophical implications of artificial intelligence to the best way to juicing recipes. You find yourself waiting for these messages, eager to see what tangent Leigh's mind has wandered off to now. You get into it, dissecting the articles she sends over with the seriousness of a scholar. You type back your thoughts, trying to sound as insightful as possible, maybe even a bit witty, hoping to impress her. You imagine this might be her way of initiating deeper, intellectual conversations between you two.

So, when you send back a paragraph or two analyzing the latest article she's shared, maybe touching on its impacts on modern society or offering a counterpoint to the author's thesis, Leigh's responses aren’t what you expect. Instead of engaging with the discussion, she sends a simple thumbs-up emoji or, even more baffling, a random factoid about her day, like her opinion on the Kani salad from a sushi bar near the Beautiful Beast gym.

[12:15 PM] Leigh: [sent a photo] Just some store-bought crab sticks and diluted mayo. Don’t try it. Their saké though is 👌👌👌

You wonder why she’s having Japanese rice wine this early in the day.

[12:22 PM] You: Thanks for the heads up. I know a place for authentic Japanese food. You want to check it out with me some time?

Your text remains unseen for the rest of the afternoon.

You find yourself staring intently at the wall clock in your clinic, keenly aware of each minute slipping by, and with it, the dwindling chance of Leigh arriving before the doors lock for the day. As it nears 8 in the evening, Suzie is already wrapped up in her end-of-day tasks across the lobby. Leaning your cheek on your palm, you watch blankly as she meticulously arranges her desk, perfectly aligning each item, then moves on to gently pull the blinds closed on each window.

Suzie’s not blind. She throws you these knowing glances every time you let out one of your heavy sighs. Finally, after you've probably sighed loud enough to be heard next door, she stops what she's doing and plants herself in front of you.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

You try to look puzzled. “Nothing. Why?”

Suzie rolls her eyes. “Please, you’ve been mooning over that clock and sighing like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. What’s up?”

You crack a smile, partly at her description, partly from being caught moping like a lovesick teenager. “It’s just… I thought maybe Leigh would come by. She said she would,” you say, wincing at yourself when the last part comes out a bit whiny.

Without missing a beat, Suzie pivots from her closing duties and makes her way over to you.

She’s not delicate with you this time. “You’re doing that thing again. Waiting around for something that’s probably not gonna happen. It’s not doing you any good.”

You know she's hitting the nail on the head, but it's tough to swallow.

Suzie continues, “You're young, you're attractive, and it's honestly weird that you're pining over your ex's ex. At first, I thought it was kind of adorable, in a bizarre, romantic-comedy kind of way. But now, it's like you're always hung up and disappointed.”

“Thanks for saying I’m young when I’m five years older than you,” you say with a sheepish smile, hiding your disappointment that she isn’t saying the things you want to hear, such as the possibility that Leigh just got busy.

Suzie shakes her head in disapproval. She's fed up, and her next words aren't going to be sugar-coated. “Snap out of it!” she barks, the command hitting you like a cold splash of water, and you jerk back in your chair, wide-eyed. Seeing you shrink back, quivering, she softens a bit and shifts back to the harmless receptionist you’re used to.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Suzie says, ensuring she has your full attention. You manage to meet her gaze, even though your eyelids feel heavy. “It's not fair to Leigh, either. You're giving meaning to everything she does—or doesn't do. It's putting her in an impossible situation. And honestly, it's not fair to you. You're missing out on your own life, waiting for someone who... well, who might never show up the way you want her to.”

Suzie knows she’s being tough, but sometimes love means being the friend who won’t let you settle for anything less than you deserve.

“I hear you, okay? It’s just… it’s the way I’m wired. I latch onto a person like a leech, refusing to let go until I see it through,” you mutter, shielding your face with your hands, a bit ashamed to even say it out loud. You get so tunnel-visioned, missing out on maybe better things and experiences because you're stuck on one track. You fall hard for your choices, never by chance.

“Good. You know what’s wrong with you,” Suzie says softly.

You let out a weak chuckle, the sound tinged with a bit of self-mockery. You're half-hidden behind your hands, peeking out at Suzie as if she's got all the answers. Suzie pries your fingers away from your face and then pinches your cheek so hard, you start to whine a bit.

“Ow! What was that for?” you protest, rubbing your assaulted cheek.

“That's for being a pathetic little bitch.”

“Excuse me, I'm still the one signing your paychecks,” you shoot back, trying to sound offended but it’s hard to keep a straight face.

“Sure thing, boss,” she laughs, and you join in.

“Okay, so what do you suggest I do then?” you ask as the last of your chuckles die down.

“Go on a date,” comes her swift response. “All that stuff they say about love finding you when you're not looking? Biggest lie ever.”

You look at her curiously, assessing her physical features. “W-With you?”

“Dude, no! Not with me!” Suzie exclaims, laughing nervously. “I mean, sure, I'd take you out if you weren't my boss, but I don't see that happening anytime soon unless you fire me.”

“Got it, got it,” you say, still chuckling. Suzie realizes too late that you were just teasing her and huffs. “Not with you. But seriously, go on a date? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just meet someone.”

“You make it sound like it’s easy.”

“Because it is,” she says with a shrug. “Here. Give me your phone.”

Leigh doesn’t know what to do with the fact that you may or may not have feelings for her.

So, she does what she does best: Pretend.

Leigh pretends you’re not EspressoEyes. In her mind, it could just be a coincidence, and you might not be the person who wrote to her advice column. Without any concrete evidence, she holds onto this notion, using it as a shield to fend off the uncertainties and doubts that would follow if she believed otherwise.

Leigh pretends because she needs your help to figure out how to care for Logan. Because maybe she wants to be friends. When you join her for a run, you don’t press for conversation, a rare companion who's not afraid of silence. Having you around feels like having Matt around, in a way that she's reminded of him when you talk about the same things you like, the same books you've read, and the same music you listen to.

Leigh pretends it doesn’t bother her in case you are EspressoEyes. She’s no stranger to turning heads as she walks down the street, accustomed to the attention. There's a certain power in being desired, and Leigh revels in it. But the idea of you liking her doesn't quite make sense to her; it's like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. It’s not because you’re a woman—she’s been with women before. What Leigh can't wrap her head around is that you, of all people, could actually be into her. After all, she hasn’t exactly been her most charming self since you two met. Even her best friend is keeping a cautious distance. She’s been wearing down the people closest to her, those who are supposed to like her the most.

And this bewilderment doesn't sit well with Leigh. She is someone who thrives on understanding, on knowing where she stands with people and why. So, when pretending isn’t enough, she does what she does second-best: Avoid.

She must have been waiting in her car outside your clinic for the better part of the evening, debating with herself about what to do next. She's parked just out of view, positioned so she can see the clinic entrance without being too conspicuous. She hasn't eaten dinner yet, her stomach growling, but she remains glued to her spot across from where she knows you're waiting for her.

Ever since you subtly asked her out through text, she’s been on edge, second-guessing her actions (texting and sharing posts on the internet with you all morning, what was she thinking?) and wondering what they might have meant to you. Leigh didn’t mean to leave you hanging—she did come to your clinic, sort of. She remembers typing out a response to you, something witty and non-committal, but her finger hovered over the ‘send’ button before pulling back. It felt like too much, too soon. She needed time to think, to figure out why the idea of checking out authentic Japanese food with you left her feeling so conflicted inside.

Leigh's guilt gnaws at her as she sits there, wrestling with how to extricate herself without causing further confusion—or worse, hurt. Eventually, it all comes to a head. She finally gives in, typing out a message to you on her phone with a shaky urgency.

[7:53 PM] Leigh: I'm so sorry, something came up. I can't make it to the clinic after all.

Your reply comes quickly, much to her astonishment, especially since she hadn't opened your message all afternoon.

[7:54 PM] You: It's fine, don't worry about it. I can have Logan's supplies delivered to your place if that works better for you.

Reading your text, Leigh bites her lip, another surge of guilt washing over her. Your kindness, your willingness to accommodate her, only complicates this predicament further.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: Yes, that would be great, thank you.

[7:54 PM] Leigh: How much do I owe you?

As she starts nibbling at her cuticle, Leigh is eager to resolve at least the financial aspect of her obligation. Though she knows she owes you so much more than just Logan’s supplies.

[7:56 PM] You: Like I said, it's on the house. But just this time ☺️

It’s still too generous. But Leigh knows better than to argue further, concerned that insisting might hurt your feelings.

[7:56 PM] Leigh: Thank you. I won’t forget this.

[7:57 PM] You: 😊😊😊

Leigh sighs, remembering her promise that you could visit Logan anytime. She hopes you won’t take her up on that offer too soon, at least not until she has a chance to sort herself out.

Danny isn’t too bad once you get to know him. That's what Leigh learns after more than two months of dating him.

Initially, Leigh wasn't sure what to make of Danny. Their shared wit and sarcasm often put them at odds, like two alphas vying for the upper hand, each one not willing to back down, always aiming for the last word. Yet, in their calmer moments, when the competitive edge fades and they're just enjoying each other's company, Leigh finds something unexpectedly comforting about being with him. He has this confidence about himself that Matt never had, knowing exactly what he wants—and that's her. His straightforward approach makes everything about being with him feel predictable. And lately, she's starting to see predictability as a good thing, a sign of stability. This is a welcome change from the uncertainty that often left her anxious about the future. Plus, all these traits spill over into the bedroom, making the sex between them feel effortless and satisfying in a way she’s never experienced before.

Despite all this, there are days when Leigh finds herself merely tolerating Danny's affections. A part of her remains tightly locked, still bruised from losing Matt, and she's not sure if those doors should—or even can—open again. To compensate, she often says yes when she can, whenever her mood permits her to be giving and amenable.

And it is exactly why she says yes when Danny asks her to go to Palm Springs with him this weekend.

The getaway feels like an extended lazy morning where the concept of time blurs into insignificance. They drift from one hotel restaurant to another, luxuriating in the art of doing absolutely nothing. This routine isn't new to them; it’s the same one they slip into whether they’re at Danny’s apartment or Leigh’s place—only now, the scenery is different, and the sheets they tangle in are expensively soft, boasting a thread count far beyond anything either of them owns at home.

They're lounging by the pool, sipping Margaritas—Leigh with a book in hand and Danny absorbed in his phone—when your name comes up in conversation.

“So, how are things between you and Y/N?” Danny asks, not looking up from his phone.

Leigh stiffens slightly. She carefully moderates her tone, her face schooled into an expression of indifference as she marks her page and looks over at him. “What about me and Y/N?”

“I don't know... are you guys friends now?”

If Leigh weren’t so preoccupied with her own personal concerns about you, she might have recognized the underlying worry his question poses. What he's actually trying to figure out is whether you've come clean to Leigh about his role in Matt’s secret affair with you.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” she says. To say otherwise would be a lie, because you’ve been nothing but good to her. Danny seems satisfied with this answer, nodding before returning his attention to his phone.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” he mumbles. He's back to mindless scrolling, but Leigh can sense the tension from two feet away.

“No, tell me,” Leigh insists, placing her book on the side table between them with a definitive thud. Danny mirrors her actions, setting his phone face down and turning to her with a seriousness that clashes with their otherwise relaxed afternoon.

“I just don't get why you'd be friends with Matt's mistress,” he blurts out suddenly.

Leigh is taken aback. They've never fully discussed what transpired between you and Matt, so she hadn't realized he was paying such close attention to her interactions with you. Believing that he wasn't privy to all the details, she quickly jumps to your defense.

“Y/N didn’t even know Matt was married to me,” she explains, trying to clarify the misunderstanding and protect your integrity.

“Yeah? And you just took her word for it?” Danny doesn’t bother to hide his skepticism, and it irks Leigh more than usual. She doesn't understand why every conversation with Danny has to turn into a challenge or an argument.

“There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise,” Leigh replies, her voice tightening as she struggles to keep her frustration in check. “I mean, I even went through your phone to see what Matt had been saying to you, and there was nothing there indicating that Y/N knew he was married.”

Danny feels a lump form in his throat. Fortunately for him, Matt hadn't mentioned anything in their texts about Danny being Nick either. He has been debating whether to disclose his role in everything to Leigh. But things between them have gotten serious, and Danny's not so sure he should come clean. Part of him wants to delay—perhaps until they are married with kids, when he's more certain that Leigh won't leave him over a past mistake.

“Look, I'm not saying don’t trust her, but... she used to be in love with Matt, right? You don't think there's a chance she resents you even a little?”

Leigh stops for a second, Danny's words prompting her to consider aspects she hadn't really thought about before. Wrapped up in her own insecurities, jealousy, and pain when she discovered the truth about you, she had never stopped to consider your perspective—how you might have felt learning that the man you had feelings for was married. Did you feel just as fooled and stung as she did? The thought bounces around her head for a moment. From what she can recall, nothing in your behavior has ever suggested that you're a bitter ex. But then, what if you're just exceptionally good at masking your feelings?

Do you really like her, or is it all an act—a scheme?

But then, she remembers the night you gave her Logan, how your smile was nothing but warm, your eyes bright with something that, looking back, Leigh realizes might have been admiration. Not even Danny looks at her like that, whose gaze is always bridling yearning and a desire to possess. Leigh shakes her head, almost laughing at the thought of Danny being right about you.

“Danny, honestly,” Leigh finally says, trying to put an end to the discussion, “if what you're saying is true, I can handle it myself.” It seems the quickest way to close this topic, knowing that debating it could easily consume their entire afternoon and completely derail the purpose of their vacation.

“But doesn't it hurt, having her around? Like a reminder that Matt went for someone else?” He's playing on a different fear now, not questioning your integrity, but poking at the scars Leigh's tried so hard to heal.

Leigh wants to admit the pain never went away. She’s merely learned to co-exist with it. It's like the weather for her: on some days, her mind is a landscape of clear skies, but when the storm hits, it's relentless. For now, she chooses to keep this pain private, unwilling to give anyone the leverage to use it against her or even attempt to fix her. It's her burden to bear, and hers alone.

“No,” Leigh answers, reaching for her book again. “I don’t see it that way anymore.”

Leigh ends her nearly year-long social media hiatus by posting a series of photos from her Palm Springs vacation with Danny. Sharing such personal moments publicly is uncharacteristic for her, especially given her minimal online presence over the past months. Maybe it felt like sending a message to everyone that she’s doing okay. That they can go back to seeing her as just Leigh again—a single, actively dating woman in her early thirties—not as the young widow she was in her late twenties.

Danny's friends are the first to swarm the comments. They tag Danny, peppering the feed with teasing remarks, their comments ranging from jokes about the desert heat to compliments on the couple's sun-drenched physique. It's all typical, light-hearted friend banter, until one comment sharply disrupts the mood:

“Yo, isn't that your brother's wife?”

Leigh deletes the comment within seconds of seeing it.

A few hours later, you ‘like’ her post. Leigh's eyes fix unblinkingly on the notification. She's been idly wondering if you'd seen the post, and now, you’ve confirmed it yourself. But what does that ‘like’ mean?

Is it a nod of approval, a silent indication that you're happy for her? Regardless of what it means, Leigh discovers she was sending another message—one that’s exclusively for you. It tells you that whether you're EspressoEyes, whether you harbor any feelings for her or not, it no longer matters.

She's with Danny now.

Returning from Palm Springs, Leigh feels different—like she’s turned a corner or something. She feels refreshed, and she wants to take on something, such as Drew’s grievances about her advice column. She picks one to start with, something about anniversary ideas, and she's got the perfect story for this.

It was one of those anniversaries with Matt, the kind that stands out from the rest of his surprises because it's so quintessentially him—albeit a little nerdy. He took her away from the city's glare to a secluded spot where the sky was a blanket of stars, untainted by artificial light. After laying out a rug for them to both settle on, he began the painstaking process of setting up a rather complex telescope. It took him nearly an hour, but the wait just made the moment even more special. With the telescope finally ready, Matt pulled out this old, crinkly constellation map and started hunting for one specific star. It was one of the last times Leigh remembered them being truly happy—deeply in love, free from the shadows of Matt’s depression, Leigh’s instinct to fix things, and the small lies that slowly eroded their relationship.

When he finally located it, he excitedly guided her to peer through the telescope. There it is—a tiny speck of light, but it's theirs. Matt turned to her with a bashful smile and revealed that he had 'bought' that star for her.

Leigh shares this story with her reader, emphasizing that it's about understanding what truly moves your partner. For her, it was that star—simple, unexpected, and insanely romantic. She tells her reader to find that one-of-a-kind thing, that personal touch that says “I love you” in a way that can only come from them. Just like Matt did with a star and a starry night.

It's only after she closes her laptop that Leigh realizes tears have been streaming down her face.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

It takes a moment to recognize who you've just bumped into. This encounter isn't as jarring as the last; it’s merely a brush of shoulders as you both maneuver to avoid incoming traffic. That ‘incoming traffic’ turns out to be none other than Leigh Shaw.

She's beaming up at you, and it looks genuine despite the sparse interactions since she last canceled on you. You’re still catching your breath, your heart racing from the speed of your run and something else entirely.

“At least I didn’t make you crash on the pavement this time. I'd say that’s significant progress,” you quip, drawing a soft laugh from Leigh. Last week, you made the firm decision to compartmentalize your feelings for Leigh, resolving to see her strictly as a friend. Yet, when faced with reality, such resolutions seem trivial, particularly when that reality includes Leigh smiling at you with her effortlessly charming grin—a smile that, despite your best efforts, still sends a familiar flutter through your stomach and makes your knees feel like they're made of something much less solid than bone.

“Speaking of progress, Logan’s due for his vaccines this week, right?” You remember the schedule clearly, not just because you’re good with dates, but because Logan has become somewhat of a shared responsibility between the two of you—or at least that’s how you still see it.

“Oh, right. I promise I'll swing by. No bailing this time,” she says, chuckling, but there’s a serious undertone that tells you she’s committed to making good on her word this time.

“You better not,” you tease, “Can’t have Logan missing his shots. He’s still very young, and it’s critical we build up his protection against—”

“I won’t, Doctor,” Leigh cuts in, giving you a playful salute that makes you blush. “So, where are you off to after this? I was actually about to grab some donuts for breakfast—”

Leigh pauses mid-sentence as a woman appears at your side. She’s stunning—slightly taller than Leigh, clad in a sports bra and tight yoga pants, with sneakers on her feet. An absolute goddess; even Leigh can’t resist a quick, appreciative glance.

“Who's this?” the woman asks with a British accent, adding the perfect touch to her 5-foot-7 frame.

“This is Leigh,” you introduce quickly, noting the surprise in Leigh's expression. “Leigh, this is Sara.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Sara says warmly, extending her hand. Leigh shakes it, though her movements are somewhat mechanical. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh?” Leigh’s smile is strained. “Nice to meet you, too.”

You quickly steer the topic back to Leigh's breakfast plan, asking where the donut place is. “It's just down that street,” Leigh points vaguely, but then stops short. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, “Actually, I just remembered I've got to pick up something from the laundromat.”

You frown, thrown by her sudden change of tune. “Are you sure? We could grab a bite after the run.”

“No, really, I should get going. Maybe next time!” Leigh replies hastily, already stepping back, her exit swift and decisive. As she hurries away, you're left there, watching her leave, trying to figure out what flipped her mood from happy to wanting to escape so quickly.

“Shall we?” Sara nudges you gently, already jogging in place.

You give Sara a nod, but as you start running, you can't help but sneak one last look back. Leigh is quick to put distance between herself and the park. With a sigh, you turn your full attention back to Sara, who’s already picking up the pace, chatting about a new trail she wants to try next weekend.

“Let's go,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, as you push your legs to match her pace.

Meanwhile, Leigh walks briskly to a different restaurant, forsaking her initial craving for donuts. She can’t quite explain why she fabricated an errand; all she knows is that she needed to get away from you and Sara. Earlier, she couldn't help but notice how close Sara was standing to you, assessing you with a look that seemed a bit too interested. Leigh keeps turning over Sara's words in her mind, puzzling over what she meant by saying she'd heard a lot about her from you.

Why were you talking about her with Sara? Who exactly is Sara to you? Just a friend, or something more?

And what Leigh finds even more perplexing is why she's so troubled by needing to know the answers.

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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alyakthedorklord · 1 year

Text

I’m having dramatic thoughts about Damian being born to Fem!Bruce ok I’m having THOUGHTS

(TW for alluding to Damian’s conception being nonconsensual)

Okay so set the stage of our Drama- Fem!Bruce (or just AFAB idc) is out on patrol or something and League Parent (Either Talia as in canon, or Ra’s if we’re feeling the creepy old man tonight) drops Damian off with “Hey, watch our son that you birthed and then I stole and let you think was dead for ten years, there’s some infighting in the league.”

(If we’re using Ra’s as dad then Talia is absolutely trying to kill Damian for the position of heir)

Bryce is, understandably, shocked. Her other children? Even more so. Because what do you mean you had a biological child? How did we not know about this?!

Damian isn’t old enough to be pre-robin unless he was cryogenically frozen. Did Bryce really hide a whole fucking pregnancy from them?

Dick is screaming, Jason shows up because he has to see this shit for himself, Bryce is standing in silence, staring at the results of every single test she can think of to confirm that yes, this is her son, this is her Damian, all the info matches up…

Tim tries to speak up, but Jason just turns on him, asking if he’s ready to be replaced too. Bryce didn’t even have to go looking this time!

Tim looks him dead in the eye and points out the birthdate(and death date) on file for Damian Wayne.

It’s exactly eight days before Jason was taken in.

How did Dick and Jason not know about this?

Because they weren’t there.

In the short period of time when Dick was striking out on his own, and before Bryce picked up Jason, League Baby Daddy of your choosing shows up and takes advantage. A simple greeting, a spiked drink, a blurry night, and a pregnancy test later…

Bruce is, as always, in any universe, is terrible at communication. But honestly she can be excused in this case. How exactly do you tell your wayward son ward that, after chasing him off because he was “being reckless” and “putting himself in danger,” you’ve gone and gotten taken advantage of, trusted someone that you had absolutely ZERO business trusting, and now you’re pregnant with an Al Ghul baby? And you’ve decided to keep it? That this isn’t you replacing him or demanding he return, because you understand his need for space, but also you desperately want him back with you because you’re scared but you can never admit it?

How do you do that in a text? Because Dick is not answering the phone.

You don’t. Thats a conversation you have face to face. So the messages Bryce leaves are all “there are some changes and i’d like to talk to you” “there may be a new member of the family soon” “please answer me chum”

Dick doesn’t answer.

Meanwhile, Gotham crime is being weird because “hey robins gone! Dynamic duo is out!” And Bryce is being careful because of her belly and sometimes she has to take breaks and hormones are bullying her and nothing is going her way right now.

And them she goes into labor too soon.

And something goes wrong (League Baby Daddy happens) and she’s told her baby is dead, and now she’s lost two children.

She recovers, and goes back out onto the streets, taking her rage and pain out on the criminals that got a little too bold with her in a hospital bed…

And then there’s a street rat jacking the tires off the Batmobile.

The fucking audacity. The guts. The challenge in his bright blue eyes, the sneer on his lips, the shaggy black hair. Skin just a bit darker than hers, not quite an Al Ghul’s deep olive but somewhere in the middle.

Is this what her Damian would have looked like? Is this what her son would have grown up to be?

Maybe its the hormones, maybe she’s projecting. She knows its a bad idea, but Bryce takes the kid home. Alfred gives her a knowing and slightly disapproving look, but accepts the new child with open arms, because there’s worse things. Jason fits in easily, and soon enough, Batman has a Robin again, and Bryce is smiling again, and begins to heal from the pain of losing Damian.

But Dick? Dick is PISSED.

Upon seeing news of a new Robin/Wayne, he finally looks though his messages, and comes to the wrong conclusion that Bryce was looking for a kid to replace him this whole time. She might have tried to get his input, but had eventually made a decision like this without him. And so he’s back, and he’s angry, and Bryce gets defensive because Jason is a good kid and she can’t use her dead baby to win an argument, not when the wound is so fresh.

So life continues. Jason dies, comes back, is angry because he listened in on a few arguments and now ALSO thinks Bryce actively hunted him down to be Robin, and now she’s done the same with Tim.

Bryce keeps quiet, because how is she supposed to explain after all these years? Jason is right to be angry. She let her emotions get the better of her and dragged a sweet boy into her life. The loss of all three if her children was her own fault, because she put him into the line of fire. There’s no excuse for that.

So years pass. Tempers settle somewhat, Bryce holds her grief close to her chest because she can’t do that to her children, but… then Damian is back. And it all explodes.

The story comes out in bits and pieces. Tim figures out a timeline based on the rest of the info in the file, and Bryce and Alfred slowly fill it in.

And like- they’re all still angry, and it is justified, because what the fuck, Bryce. But also…

Dick is horrified. He had been so angry, so so angry, reading those messages that he now knows, with this new information, were a cry for help. Bryce had been desperate and scared and wanted nothing more than to just talk to him after their fight, and when he had come back after something like this had happened he had immediately started another fight.

Jason isn’t sure how to feel. He hadn’t been taken in to be a replacement soldier, he had been taken in to be a replacement son. What is he supposed to do with that? Knowing that Bryce had seen him at his worst, and taken him in and shoved down her grief to help him?

Tim is wondering if every time Bryce backed away with an unreadable expression, it hadn’t been keeping herself emotionally distant, it was grief for the sons she had lost.

Steph is realizing that Bruce wasn’t lying, when Steph had to give her own baby up and Bryce had hugged her and said “I understand.”

Damian is sitting in a corner wondering what the ever-loving FUCK is going on. Why is everyone crying this is pathetic. Father take him home he prefers the threat of imminent death.

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

Can I please request a Jeremiah x reader smut where it’s both of their first times! Smut but also cute and fluffy! Thank you ♥️

This is my first time writing for Jeremiah, please be nice. While I like him in the show - I am not team Jeremiah though -, I find him difficult to write about, so idk if I'll keep him on my list...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When it comes to losing your virginity, you've always wanted to wait for the right moment to do it. Maybe it was watching rom-coms and reading hundreds of romances that implanted this vision in your mind, or maybe it was just you wanting to make that big moment perfect, knowing you could never re-do it if you jinxed it…or worse, regret it.

‘’I have not,’’ Belly confessed quietly, shaking her head. ‘’Cam and I went on our third date. It’s way too early.’’ She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, not exactly comfortable talking about sex but feeling comfortable enough to talk about it with you. ‘’Have you and Jere..?’’

‘’No,’’ you said, excluding the other things you and Jeremiah had done that weren’t full-on penetrative sex. ‘’But we are thinking about it.’’

Belly’s attention snapped up. ‘’Oh?’’

You nodded, a light flush tinted your cheeks.

‘’Are you nervous?’’

You nodded again.

So many things could go wrong even if you make sure everything is perfect. You also heard some girls say it hurt the first time and that they bled, which scared you a little.

Belly grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘’I may not know anything about sex, but what I know is that it’s Jeremiah. He loves you. There’s nothing to be nervous about,’’ she assured you.

A few weeks later, the day finally came.

Your mom was out at her book club meeting and your dad was at the country club, leaving the house to yourself for a few hours. Taking advantage of their absence, you texted Jeremiah to come over…and to bring the condoms.

It was bold and definitely had him grinning on his couch at home before making up an excuse to ditch Steven at video games and shower and get ready for the big event.

While Jeremiah was getting ready, you did the same. You put on matching bra and underwear, gave your hair an extra brush and spritzed yourself with Jeremiah’s favorite perfume of yours, lit some candles for ambiance although it was burning hot outside. You made sure everything was perfect.

Except it wasn’t perfect.

Right when Jeremiah unhooked your bra, his phone started blaring loudly and wouldn't stop. After the fifth ring, Jeremiah answered and left, needing to pick up his mother at the country club. He said he could come back after, but the moment was already ruined.

By some miracle, you were presented another perfect opportunity a few days later.

Susannah was out with Belly and Laurel for a debutante dress fitting, Conrad was at the beach surfing, and Steven was with Shayla.

You and Jeremiah were having a swim in his pool to cool down from the sun. Summer was beautiful, but the heat was too much sometimes. Thankfully, Jeremiah had a nice pool, which you loved to take advantage of. As always, playful splashing turned into kissing and soon enough, you were making out.

You moved things upstairs to Jeremiah’s room for more privacy, and also because didn’t want your first time to be in a pool or on the Fisher’ back porch.

‘’Careful!’’ Jeremiah reminded as the two of you hurried upstairs, leaving water all over the floors despite being wrapped in a towel. ‘’The floors are slippery when we—’’

You caught his arm in time before he could slip and fall, sending the two of you in a fit of laughter. The fun was interrupted when he backed you against the wall and kissed you in the hallway. You melted against him and let your towel drop.

Jeremiah brought you to his bed, not caring about the wet patched your wet baiting suits would leave behind. It's not like you were going to keep them on for very long.

Hands were all over each other's body, exploring and grabbing while you were kissing with desire. You undid the ties of your bikini, chucking it on the floor, then moved to your bottoms. Your whole body was on fire under Jeremiah's touch — you needed it all off.

You reached for Jeremiah's shorts, helping him out because it was harder to take off when wet...and horny, but that's when Steven decided to walk in like he owned the place, catching sight of Jeremiah's bare ass.

For the rest of the summer, you weren't able to find a good moment. Jeremiah was either working at the country club's pool, or someone was home. You could have snuck to an empty bedroom at a party, but a stranger's bedroom was nothing romantic for a first time.

You were starting to get impatient so, one night he was supposed to drive you home, you made him pull over and stop the car. It was dumb and had high risks of getting caught, but you didn't care.

‘’Are you sure?'' Jeremiah asked, seeing you pull your dress over your head. ''We don’t have to if you don’t.’’

You shook your head, looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. ‘’You’re my best friend, Jere. I want it to be you. I want it to be now.’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

#jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher imagine #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

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jolapeno · 1 year

Text

x. oh, just to be with you

javier peña x f!reader | chapter ten of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: we're back to texts and phone calls. sorrowful!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. pls don't be mad at me ✨ wordcount: 3k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

He's aware of everything.

How the porch creaks when he steps on it, the way the back door doesn’t quite meet the frame unless it’s locked. How the wind is knocking something else, far across the tall grass and fence posts.

Right now, his focus is on how his curtains don’t quite close. That they're letting the thinnest crack of moonlight cascade through his room. How the smallest luminescent slither keeps dancing in the breeze, yet it still lands perfectly on the propped-up photo strip on his dresser, highlighting the two of you, as though he hadn't committed them to memory.

He can’t remember the last time someone had managed to slide around his walls—bypass his common sense and begin weaving themselves into him. Javi also can't remember the last time he wanted something more than a win.

Then came you.

Not that he complains that you're the exception. He'll never complain when it comes to you.

Having people close has never been his issue. It’s letting himself fall that he’s forever found hard. He can be a lover who makes a night all about the other; he can be a protector, shielding and doing what is needed.

It’s the parts after when he feels he clams up. A portion of him constantly weighing up risks, calculating the damage he could cause—either by a choice he could make or others—long before the city that housed Escobar.

Javi knew his reluctance had stemmed from before he left Laredo, but it was now carved somewhere deeper in him. Something you managed to find with relative ease and cut out of him as if it was nothing.

All smiles. All radiance and fucking beauty, with a laugh that could make his lips curl even if his bones are aching and his muscles are tired.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that he’s back there, in the hotel room. Because even if you’d never been here, your room is full of him.

His bag of spilt-out clothes from your time together, slowly letting the scent of your perfume seep out across the room. Your jacket, hung on the closet handle, and the photos and sign you made on his dresser, all perfectly in sight.

you have nice handwriting I did try my best, sometimes I get lazy and letters blur together more. I like how you wrote baby Does this mean I’ve got the whole set now? Cause you like how I say it, how I write it, how I mouth it.

Even when he had known you’d needed to get some sleep, Javi had desperately wanted to beg you to stay up. Sending back a text here or there, already missing you so much more than he was sure he could handle.

He felt lovesick. Like the singer in all those songs that make people either stare at a loved one or bite back tears because they lost theirs. Suddenly relating to a sea of them he’s heard on the radio in the kitchen or hummed in the back of his pop’s throat.

Javi had been happy to see his pops, somewhat surprised he even came out of the house to greet him. But, as soon as his eyes landed on him, he became suddenly more aware of his old man’s age. Noticing the lines on his face, the ones that tell a thousand stories—not all of them he’s sure he’s heard. Curling into the hug he’d barely reciprocated before, unsure how to form the words to thank him for convincing him to go.

Naturally, he asks about you.

It’s more of an interrogation if he’s honest. He shows the photos, the ones now on his dresser, watching his pop smile as he continues to answer the array of questions, until he yawns for the tenth time in the space of five minutes.

“You should get some sleep, Pop.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Javi. Tell me more about your lady.”

Your lady.

Those two words stand out as if they’ve been illuminated in bulbs, twinkling and shimmering.

now youre back in reality you sure about us Never been more sure about anything, baby. just wanted to check You’re beginning to sound like me, worrying. left a mark on me Think that’s fair, you’ve left a lot on me too. Especially my chest.

“Tomorrow. Promise. The drive took it out of me.”

But Javi isn’t tired.

Somehow, he had suspected he wouldn’t be the moment he watched you leave.

For longer than he cares to number, he's struggled with it. Had developed an unhealthy live-able balance of it when he was working, something he managed to keep as a prize in his return.

Now, it’s different.

There’s an edge to it. As though he's now having to pay back the stolen sleep he enjoyed when he had been lay with you. When he slept with ease and not struggle. Leaving him feeling now like he’s in a lull, a dream. All aware, not in a daze anymore, noticing things he had never given much attention to before his trip out of town.

You had been so warm, so soft. His fingers gliding up and down your side, soothing you as much as it was him. But, you slept with ease. Falling almost instantly once you'd stopped talking, a little jolt and a soft sigh punctuating it.

Fuck, he misses you.

Thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut. Unsure how he's supposed to manage, and cope, until the next chance he gets to see you.

Till he gets to hold you in his arms, stare at your smile as it grows across your face or feels the light tap of your hand when he’s teasing you...

Something ugly curls inside of him. At first, soaked in sadness, before it shakes itself and burns bright with annoyance. Irritation. Anger at how unfair it all is.

How is it, after all, he’s given up—he’s fallen for the one person not even in his state? A person he had to say goodbye to hours ago, for reasons out of his or their control.

He almost snorts, unsure if it’s due to the tiredness or the reality that after all he’s faced, life would continue to be cruel and deal him such a hand. Tempted to get up, kick off the sheets and pull out the crossword from before he left town.

Javi doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes, shaking his head—to no one but himself. Because he can't do them without you now. A promise, one given with ease.

He hears the whisper of the wind, the rustle of the trees. Something needling at him that if he wasn't so broken, this would be the perfect amount of quiet to fall asleep to.

Now, it's not the loud of a Colombian city he misses now. It's how your leg slides over his, how your breaths feel on his chest—how you twitch, ever so slightly, as you first fall asleep.

But, it’s the quiet as to why he hears his phone vibrate, practically darting out of bed, knowing it can only be you.

why aren’t you asleep?

Because I can't sleep without you. Apparently.

I miss you too.

I really hate this. I even miss you digging your knee into my hip.

told you that you’d miss it once it was gone

I feel like telling you that you’re right will mean your head will inflate.

youre right

One day, right?

if I could make that tomorrow I would

You really missing me that much?

not enough words in the world to describe how much, baby

Gonna make me cry.

dont cry I can’t wipe them from here

So not wise for me to tell you I cried the entire flight home.

did the person you sit next to seem to mind

They didn’t say anything until we landed. Then promptly told me that I deserved better.

so they thought you were broken up with

I think I may have led her to believe that from the amount I was crying.

fuck you like me a lot

I like you a regular, normal amount.

I don’t think I like you a normal regular amount

That’s the tiredness talking.

you know it isnt

I feel the same. I really miss you.

I miss you too but you should try to sleep you have work tomorrow

Okay, but so do you!

ill be fixing a shed or a pen baby you have to deal with people

go to sleep and then tomorrow we can call as planned

You’d told him that you suspected the first day would be the hardest.

Not the goodbye (and that had been fucking painful) but the following day when they were apart.

Javi hates that you’re right.

It twists inside of him how much he loathes it—grateful that he gets to push some of his anger into repairing the side of the shed. Hammer meeting nail, again and again. Each time with more fury than is needed, only worrying after whether he’s done more damage to the shed post than pre.

"Mijo."

He doesn't find a judgemental look, but one filled with sympathy.

His pop not quizzing him, just handing him a beer. A cold one, droplets descending down the can, sliding across his palm and down his wrist—attempting to soothe the boiling blood in his veins.

“It’ll get easier.” His pop tugs his hat down, shielding his eyes, before staring off into the distance. “When me and your mama first began, we couldn’t see each other all the time either.”

Letting out a sigh, Javi grinds his teeth. A sea of biting comments lathered on his tongue, all set to pounce, to poison.

Instead, he kicks the ground, swallowing most of them back. “She wasn’t hundreds of miles away, though.”

“No,” his Pop says, clapping his hand on his back—both for comfort and likely stability. “But we didn’t have landlines, or tha' other thing you do on y’phone. The tapping."

The tapping.

He doesn't snort, even if it sits at the back of his throat. Burying it in the liquid that slides down his throat with ease.

"Come on, ‘need to head into town, and my truck is acting up.”

Javi doesn’t question it, why he’s the one sliding into the passenger seat of his own truck.

If he’d thought about it, he’d have asked why the truck was acting up or why Pop was driving instead of him. But he doesn’t—didn’t. Just let it happen, staring off as the shades of grass pass him by, fingers playing with the cap on the can, twisting and twisting it.

To fill the silence, he rolls the edges of the can around in his hands. Crunching the sides every now and again, making him wince from the noise.

Then, he finds himself staring at the fingerprints left in the dust from you touching his dash—eyes catching sight of a hair grip on the floor near his boot.

He’s rolling it in his fingers when they’re back on the road, silence smothering them until he watches his pop turn on the radio. As soon as it springs to life, it becomes desperate to try and cut through it. The broadcaster mumbles about heavy rain and increased traffic, but he’s lost in a sorrow of sadness all cast by the spell of a good week to care. The fog around him making it hard to see the wood through the trees, never mind the hope through the misery.

“Dios mio. More trucks passing through now since the bridge opened. Y’noticed, mijo? So many.”

“Hmm.”

Eyes fixed on the grip, the one more worn on one side than the other—imagining your face, the night when he’d watched you take them out, face fresh, one of his tees on your frame.

Then, because the world isn’t cruel enough, the song changes. The radio playing a game with him now, as well as everything else, as he lifts his head, trying to focus on the road. Hearing the soft thud of his pop’s fingers on the steering wheel, his jaw tightened as the lyrics washed over him. Faintly hearing you humming along with the chorus.

Because he heard the song in the diner with you.

Heard it on the radio one afternoon, then again in the bowling alley—how it wrapped its tune around the two of you.

“Heard our song today,” he says, fingers massaging his temple.

He's thankful his pop said he had plans, the quietness settling over the rest of the ranch.

Before he met you, he dreaded the nights he was left alone. His thoughts gearing up, ready to pounce. The minor differences he could have made if he took a step back and stared at the facts, how he should have noticed how deep the corruption was—how much Colombia was taking from him, bit by bit.

Now, he tries not to grin when his pop says he’s going out.

When he’s left alone, allowed full reign to talk as loud as he wants to you—rather than being huddled near the phone, whispering like a teenager.

“Our song?”

“Yeah.”

Javi can practically hear you smirk. “And how does that go, charmer?”

He’s not a singer. Not by a long shot, but he does his best. Humming the tune at first, softly singing the words from the chorus until he trails off.

You snort, before you try to muffle it in a cough.

“You tricked me.”

“Maybe. But, just because I wanted to hear you sing.”

Smirking, he pulls the phone from his ear—shaking his head—before replacing it back to hear you add:

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Fuck you, baby.”

Your laugh rips from you, hurtling down the phone right to his soul—making fireworks explode in his chest and warmth kiss his nerves.

Because now he can imagine what you look like. Likely head thrown back, eyes closed—nose scrunched a little as your hands grip onto something for leverage.

And it was beautiful. You’re beautiful—your laugh and your smile. Something he feels he should have said long before now. He’s about to rectify that, when he hears it merge into a sniffle—veering into tears and half-suppressed swallows before a noticeable little sob breaks through—as his throat dries instantly, closing.

Turning, he places his palm on the fall as he tries to keep his chest from tightening. The knot in his chest, the one he suspects is tied to you in some way, constricts, pulling taught around his lungs.

“I—I miss….”

You sniffle again, louder. “I've been looking forward to this all day,” you whisper, voice catching, words struggling to fall as sweetly as they usually do. “But, is it bad for me to say that phone calls aren’t the same now I’ve had the chance to be with you in person?”

Leaning his forehead against the kitchen wall, Javi wipes his chin. “Took the words outta my mouth, baby.”

He hears you chuckle, almost both heavily and heavenly, before you ask about his day.

He rambles because it’s easy too. You listen, lapping up every single thing. Hearing about his trip to town, his pop making jokes—trying, desperately, to crack through the mist that had descended.

“How was yours?”

Then you sigh, all tight. You tell him about Aish and her interview, before your voice softens as you begin whispering about the prep you’re doing for your interview. He’s about to comfort you, when you continue about the asshole you work alongside has been taken out for lunch by your boss and that you snagged your favourite pair of tights on a desk.

“But, enough about that—guess what I’m wearing?”

Smiling, he bites down on his knuckle, Javi lifting his head, groaning as he tries to think. “All of your clothes at once? Anything else might short-circuit my brain.”

“Won’t tell you then.”

“No. Please. Tell me, baby.”

He hears you move, and is almost sure he can hear you swallow. “You realise that you’re missing something, Javier?”

Fuck, the way you say his name. How it drips from your tongue. Laced in lust and swirling down the phone line to his brain.

He quickly tries to think of his washing, the piles he made—the attempted sorting. And it hits him. His eyes widened, head half-lifting, feeling his eye twitch.

“Fuck—“

“Yes. I’m sat in that. And underwear, of course.”

“Hermosa…”

His throat is dry, painfully so. Mind arranging an image of you from the days he spent with you. And fuck.

“Wasn’t sure this shade of pink was my colour, but I was wrong.”

Jutting his jaw, he closes his eyes—picturing the sight of you. The underwear he’d had the chance to peel off of you, the way it set against your skin—now, accompanied by his shirt on your arms. The buttons are likely undone, showing off more skin than he can currently process thinking about.

“It’s nice on my skin,” you whisper, all honeyed. “Be better on my floor.”

Clenching his fist, he bites his lip. “Baby…”

“Maybe I’ll show you one day.”

Snorting, he traces his teeth with his tongue. “You better. Now, tell me about the underwear.”

“Only if you can answer six across. Clue: now.”

Mouth parting, his jaw rolls to the side, eyes picking a spot on the wall. Thinking. And thinking.

“Want an extra clue?”

“An extra? You're spoiling me.”

He hears you giggle, low and in your throat. “It’s an Italian word. And, ‘I want to see you… blank—“

His eyes flick up, a smile spreading. “Pronto.”

“Correct,” you reply. “Seven words, silenced. You did this to me when you had your mouth on my—“

“Shushed,” he says quickly, fist clenching, trying to stare at the mark on the wall again, and not let the image of you populate in his head.

“You okay, baby?”

Gritting his teeth, he sighs. “You’re devious, you know that?”

“I think it’s your shirt. It’s making me… flirty.”

Grinning, he turns on the spot, back against the wall—head tilting up, eyes closing. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too….” your tone softer, frayed at the edges. “I’m kinda glad I stole your shirt.”

“Me too. Means I get to see you to steal it back from you.”

“Off me.”

It comes out quickly—purposefully chosen, spilt.

Frowning, he opens his eyes. “What?”

“Off me. You’ll have to steal it from my body.”

Grasping the phone, breathing through his nose, letting out a murmured, “Fuck, baby,” under his breath.

AN: for all those wondering if they'll be together in person again, they will. i am a happily-ever-after kind of writer unless otherwise stated. but it was so important to me that they had a magical week, and then returned to their lives.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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fleet-of-fiction · 8 months

Text

Josh Kiszka // Female Reader

Summary: After meeting Josh at a spiritual development group, your friendship intensifies after an evening of intimate meditation. He insists on showing you the room where he likes to do most of his incantations. And there, what transpires is the most mind blowing sex you've ever had.

Warnings: Spiritual sex. Foreplay and penetration. A little dirty talk.

He just wouldn't stop talking.

You knew his voice was going to echo into your dreams that night, talking about the universe and how mankind simply hasn't tapped into the spiritual knowledge at its fingertips. He spoke fluently about opening consciousness to the vast spaces and dimensions of existence. It didn't seem impossible the way he said it could be achieved. But still, it had been almost an hour since he had first opened his mouth and you could feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy. Not through boredom, but for the fact the hour was almost at midnight.

"Well?"

Your eyes flutter open, as if straining against the need to close them. Josh is looking at you expectantly with all the enthusiasm he carried into the evening when it was a more reasonable hour.

"I'm sorry, what?" You muster, coming back to your senses.

He muses over you. With immediate realisation that you're exhausted.

"I asked if you'd like to meditate with me sometime." He repeated, in a quieter tone.

His face carried with it all the sweetness of a child-like innocence. A smile that shrouded a row of pearly white teeth and a solitary dimple in his left cheek. Whisps of hair above his lip sat, almost twitching, as his smile changed from child-like to coy.

"I'd love to." You respond, as excitedly as you can, given your tiredness. "When?"

Josh had crept into your life on tiptoes. His shy demeanour had meant you didn't notice him at first, sitting at the back of the Spiritual Development group you'd been attending in an attempt to combat the grief which had burdened you for so long. But when finally, he'd found the courage to raise his hand and offer his insight, you'd taken note of him in far more detail than you usually afforded.

You began to grow excited for each meet, your heart a beating mess as you realised that sometimes he would be there and sometimes he would be wholly absent. The days on which he was absent you sat in a melancholy you couldn't fathom, listening to the others in their wisdom and wishing it was his you basked in. Until, when you had given up on him returning, he appeared in the doorway in his usual white sweater and beige jeans and the universe spoke to you for the very first time.

Since that moment it had been a flurry of musings. You, hanging on to his every word and he in return giving you space to be vocal about your grief. Your friendship had been born through these tangible moments and when he'd asked you to start meeting up away from the group it was inevitable that you'd find yourself on the edge of love.

Josh was not a constant in your life, though. His absences were long and drawn out, peppered with long winded text messages from the road he travelled. You, staring at your phone in the dark reading them like a novel you never wanted to put down. If love was beginning to stir, you took the spoon from the pot and hoped it bubbled away to nothing.

"Not tonight." He said, breaking into your reverie. "I can see how tired you are."

He leaned forward across the table and began to blow out the centre candles. He gathered his books and went to return them to the shelf.

"I am tired." You agreed. "But I find myself not wanting to leave."

His bashfulness piqued. A rosy hint emerged on his cheeks as he put the books back onto the table and in the new darkness tried to seek out your face.

"You are always leaving." You add, the darkness giving you a boldness to speak more honestly.

You see his outline shift weight from one leg to the other. "I always return."

He seems to have retreated to his initial shyness. You hear his breath grow shallow and wonder if you should approach. You have never known Josh deny himself the touch of another, offering hugs and comforting arm squeezes to your fellow group members. If you approached him you were certain he wouldn't shrink from you.

"Why can't we meditate tonight, then?" You ask, rising from your chair with only the distant lights from the street outside penetrating the window blind to guide you.

He turned his head to watch your shadow. Josh had never given you any indication that he wanted more save for his requests that you join him at his home on evenings when you should have been attending the group.

He had welcomed you in and brought you a steaming bowl of soup that his brother had made over the course of three days. So the story went. You'd eaten together and discussed the vast differences between spirituality and religion. Even his text messages, as prolific as they were, included nothing but the thoughts which occurred to him on lonely nights in hotel rooms. None of the thoughts ever made you think he was anything but your friend.

You knew your feelings had come about completely unwanted. Sprung forth from him simply being who he was and your desire to attach yourself to him. Josh was a source of sunshine in dark times. Even as you stood together at the dining table, the darkness seemed to dissipate around him.

"I thought you might want to go home and get some sleep." He offered, stiffening against your movements around the table to stand at his side.

Your eyes adjusted a little. You could see him now, his face peering at you in wonder.

"The next time you go away I'll have to wonder if we will ever meet like this again. And I'll ache for you, as I have ached for you all the other times you were gone from me. So, if it's all the same, I'd like to meditate with you tonight. Just in case." Your words fall out without process.

His wonderment remained etched on his face as you notice his Adams apple move with a deep swallow. His brown eyes lift to meet your blue, the air between the two of you heating up as if the candles were still alight.

"You ache for me?" He asked, as if the notion had never occurred to him.

There was truly no way to ascertain if Josh was ever aware of how he made people feel. His vibration was love itself and you knew there were thousands of people in the world who saw him for precisely who he was, if only from afar, and loved him in return.

Because, despite the ache it left, Josh lived for taking his message on the road and the two parts of his life could meet for the briefest of moments. You existed in that quiet part of his life that he sought out when the lights went out and the crowds went home. You'd known for a long time that him being his brothers' band was his own little universe. You just wished, sometimes, that you could be a part of the loud in his life.

"If I confess that I do, will you leave again?" You ask tentatively.

He breathed in deeply and shook his head. "We're not due back on tour for another week."

That wasn't what you meant. But he seemed so bashful you giggled at his sentiment. Immediately he was put at ease and seemed to return to being the man you had come to know and love. Except, with an edge you had not expected.

He took your hand and moved you through his house, through the corridors and up a set of spiral stairs that wound up towards a room that sat at the top of the building. Adorned with a twinkle of fairy lights and plush bean bags, on the walls hung pieces of art ranging from things he'd had commissioned and pieces he had acquired from his travels. Your breath catches as you begin to understand the beauty of this room.

"I only meditate here alone, you're the first person to join me." He said, gesturing you to sit on the floor.

You catch his scent as he sits across from you, cross legged and your knees just grazing each other. The lighting is low enough to be able to discern his facial features, but enough to keep your confidence cloaked. He shakes his hands out as if his palms are sweating and you see his nerves for the first time.

"I'm honoured." You say, realising you haven't responded to him in words.

He nods absently. "Well, you know, it's a nice place. I like to come here when I'm home and just do some breath work or even just take a nap or something. I really felt like this room deserved to be a dedicated space, you know, when I bought it. I wish I could be here more often, but you know, it's probably going to get used a lot more once the tour ends."

His nervous use of 'you know' is not lost upon you. You watch him wipe his palms on his thighs and take cursory glances at you. Your honesty has only served to make you calmer. You are in no doubt, now, that he knows how you feel about him.

"Josh?" You say, placing your hands upon his.

His body flinches. A reaction so completely unlike anything he has ever shown you before that doubt begins to creep in. There is no way to take it back, no way to remove your hands without the action being felt. Whatever it was that you were about to say is immediately lost. You were going to comfort him and tell him that he need not be nervous with you. But suddenly you are in your own head, feeling nothing but his body stiffen against your touch.

"I'm sorry." He manages, reaching out to bring your hands further into his. "Please forgive me."

"Have I done something..." You begin, afraid now.

In the pit of your stomach a sickness begins to churn. Josh shakes his head erratically, frantically trying to find the words he needed but for the first time failing to form a sentence which made any sense. He looks at you as if looking at a starry night. Seeking out new points of light amongst the ones which have always been there.

"No, never." He says in a perfunctory whisper. "You have brought such peace to my life; I had never thought to try and break it. Perhaps I should have?"

Your knees were touching now. Your hands intertwined and the previous stiffness which had brought you to your doubts was now slowly dissipating. He eased into your touch like he had known it in lifetimes which stretched out long before this.

You smile at him in the twinkle of the lights above. "I'll always be your peace, Josh. I promise."

He closes his eyes against your words. "And I will always be yours."

You instinctively fall into a pattern of breathing that links the two of you into a trance like state. You feel his hands still within yours, but the room falls away until you are completely separated from your body. You hear the sync of his breath with yours, but from a position above. He is here with you in this space. You can feel that warmth envelope you. You can feel that familiar vibration hanging in the air above your connected bodies.

In this realm, he is free of his mortal coil and any part of him that knows fear. You can hear his voice, as you knew you would in dream, saying fuck fear... the echo of it resonating through you like mist on the city streets. All you can feel is him. All of him. All his rampant insecurities laid bare, telling you his love is yours.

You gasp as you feel him pulling you back to your body, with an urgency you had never known could be his. Opening your eyes, you realise your knees are no longer touching and both your legs are outstretched. Yours lay on top of his, open and your heart chakras level with one another. His eyes are seeking you out, as if he has brought you to this moment purposefully.

"You must know I ache for you, too." He says, keeping his voice low and soft. "Day and night when we are apart."

You feel yourself a little dizzy and he responds with a comforting touch, resting his forehead against yours in the most intimate way. You and Josh have never drawn yourselves this close to one another in the physical realm. Whatever words of wisdom you may have exchanged during the course of your friendship, it was nothing compared to the wisdom he shared with you now as he silently laid his hand against your pale cheek.

"If I didn't know it, I do now." You breathe.

He smiles that devastating grin, all teeth and solitary dimple. "I'd like to try something, if I may?"

You nod your approval, and he leans back, pulling off his shirt to reveal a sculpted chest and arms that you hadn't known he would possess beneath the loose fitted clothes he chose to wear. Immediately, your mind goes to where his has gone already and you peel off your halter neck to bring your flesh together as one.

His eyes move down towards your breasts. He makes no apology in the way he studies them. Taking in the gooseflesh around your nipples, the way you hope he is satisfied. He licks his lips and returns his gaze to your eyes, his breath laboured beneath half closed eyes.

"You know, there are several benefits to meditating naked." He says, almost playfully. "It can give you a much greater awareness of your senses."

You decide to edge towards him, bringing your breasts to his chest. "I think I read somewhere that being physically naked allows you to be naked in all other aspects."

He raised a speculative eyebrow, as if he knew where this was going. The two of you justify it in languid reasoning, until you are stood opposite each other with your hands tackling belt buckles and buttons.

Stripped of your clothes, you stand, taking in the sight of each other. You notice a trail of hair leading down from his navel that meets the rest of his pubic hair. You like the way it looks in the low light, the way he dresses to the right and it rests upon his thigh. His body excites you in a way you've never felt before, impulses of warmth and ecstasy rushing through your veins making your heartbeat faster.

His eyes rest on your core. He drinks you in, moving from your breasts to your hands which are clasped together in front of your vulva. He makes a cautionary gesture, to move your hands away, and you can't help but oblige. His eyes widen as your arms come to rest at your sides. He feels your nerves as he feels his own.

"Don't be afraid." He instructs. "I have thought about this from the moment I first saw you."

His confession felt like a blow to the abdomen. It filled you up with a sense of astonishment. That he had been able to hide such a thing was astounding. His melodic voice, his graceful movements and the way you never caught him looking at you unguarded. He was a careful vessel. Never revealing anything of himself until the precise moment he intended.

You knew yourself to be somewhat more of a creature of instinct. Your glances had been caught and measured; you were sure of it. You were unable to hide the intrinsic feelings that were forming for him. You could feel them now, moistening between your legs as he continued to look at you.

"Shall we?" You ask.

He bids you to sit back down in your former positions. Legs outstretched, yours upon his and your torsos unflinchingly close. Now that your bodies were laid bare, your opening rested against his hardness as you brought yourself as close to him as you could.

His mouth and yours sought each other out, your arms rested gently on his shoulders as his found their way to your waist. You'd seen this position illustrated in a book you'd read years ago. You recalled how it could bring your souls together, on the physical plane and the spiritual.

Josh was fighting against the urge to kiss you; you sensed it as his lips inched closer to yours under the guise of sharing breath. His lips parted, taking yours with them and without thinking the tips of your tongues collided. A delicious moan escaped your lips, and Josh took the kiss deeper.

With his hands on your hips, he helped you to begin moving against him. Back and forth, your wet parting sliding against his hard length. Not for one moment did he pull away from your first kiss. His arms reached up, pulling you in closer so that your lower lips were pressed against his pubic hair, his hard penis resting to the side. The feel of his skin against yours sent electrical pulses through your body.

There had never been a time when you had imagined how it would be with Josh that you could have ever known it would be like this. There was no part of you that could have been prepared for the complete breakdown of your senses that you gave to him willingly. There was no part of you which did not belong to him now.

"Beautiful..." You hear him say, breathless and between his mouth finding yours once more.

His lips move to your arched neck, craving his touch as you pull your hair to the side. The feeling that you can't bear to go another moment without him inside you begins to build. First in your stomach and then lower, as your clit begins to throb in anticipation.

This is not meditation. You don't care to give it a name as you push his body back, forcing him onto the palms of his hands. You rise slowly, careful to keep his gaze locked. He can't help but falter and trail a look down your body as you take his cock in your hand and feel him leak into your grasp.

"I want you inside me." You tell him, "Connected. Now and always."

He does not speak. There is an audible gasp as he tilts his head back, revealing his throat and somehow the sight of it spurs you on. As you guide him inside of you, his hands grip at your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. The sensations of him filling you is more than you can take.

You moan, not softly nor with caution, raising your voice until he sinks his teeth into your jawline. Your legs inch around, bringing you to your knees. You begin to move up and down, sliding your entire body against him so that your breasts ease against his neck and face.

Panting now, he makes tiny kisses against you as you move. Sweat building, you can feel it on your brow as you move your hair back and run an errant hand through his wet curls. His face is a joyous red, completely lost and bound to you now.

"Josh..." You release his name as if you have never spoken it before.

He responds in a way that takes the breath from your lungs. He thrusts upward, making sure his full-length hits you hard. Your name escapes his lips in a low, authorative hiss and you reel back so that he can look down and see himself pound into you.

He'd always called you something nobody else ever had. A name he created just for you, when he had caught you scouring the self-help books on grief in the library where the Spiritual Development group had their meetings.

"Goddess...."

You know he is nearing orgasm as he begins to move faster, his lips seeking out one of your breasts to suck and to bear his teeth against your hard nipple. You grind down harder, quicker and tell him to suck on you harder as you feel the stirrings of your own orgasm begin to build.

"Inside me..." You mutter, in a voice not entirely your own.

Your instruction leaves him without choice. His body shudders into another realm, taking you with him. You rise above your own body. He holds you close, spurting inside you. But all you can feel is his essence. Warm and comforting. You can feel your own wetness mixed with his, as you come down onto your knees and hold his heaving body to yours. He is not quite returned, and you feel his reluctance to let go.

"It's ok..." You whisper.

You're not quite certain if you are telling him or yourself. When finally, he looks up at you, covered in sweat, the sweetness of his face brings you back to that moment when you first laid eyes on him.

"Are you ok?" He asks, resting his hot cheek against your breast.

You nod and run sweaty fingers through his hair, cradling him to you as you calm down. You feel him swallow hard, trying to stabilise his breathing. Somehow it still feels as if you're not quite within yourself just yet.

When he pulls out, you feel your body jerk and the reality of what you have done hits. You begin to wish you had not opened that portal. You feel that familiar ache creep in, even though he is in your arms and not thousands of miles away.

He seems to pick up on your reluctance immediately and pulls you into a sweet kiss where you can taste the salt of his sweat.

"My Goddess..." He croons. "Don't pull away from me."

Tears begin to spill down your cheek. Unabashedly and without guilt. He holds you. You are safe. The grief you have been trying to combat takes its leave of you, in it's place only a sense of hope that wasn't there before.

You hear Josh tell you to stay with him.

"Where else would I be?" You ask, allowing him to wipe your tears with his thumb.

"I don't know." He replies, almost casually in a way that allows you to know that you are back in the reality of your everyday life. "Sometimes you go somewhere, and I can't follow."

There's a glint in his eye that wasn't there before as you meet his gaze as someone who now knows him a way no other could. The intimacy that remained let you know he had no intention of closing that opened portal. It was yours and his. To enter whenever you chose.

"Not anymore." You tell him earnestly, your previous tiredness returning to your bones. "I promise, I wont go anywhere where you cannot follow."

He planted a solitary kiss on the end of your nose. "I make that same promise."

You know of what he speaks, but the disbelief courses through you all the same. There's a wry smile brewing on his lips as he plants a succession of more kisses on the end of your nose.

"I quite like getting your text message novels." You say, "I can't say I won't miss them."

A laugh escapes his lips, throwing his head back in obvious joy. "You can hear me speak them instead."

You knew, in your heart, that he just wouldn't stop talking.

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