#but like. yeah what if it's a thing they work on together

[reidsdaisies]

oblivious

༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x fem!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; secret relationships can’t stay secret for long at the BAU, especially when the two people in the relationship are awful at hiding it. ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; secret relationship/idiots in love trope, some kissing, background Morcia. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1.2k ༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; 2 of the scenarios in which they are discovered as a couple are ideas from the lovely @mandarinmoons! tysm for all the help you give me :( also! this is my entry for @reiderwriter’s 5k writing challenge - congrats on the milestone! i'm not 100% sure if this still qualifies for the challenge since i only used a daydreams prompt... i only realized after 😭 i hope it counts otherwise this is embarrassing

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Since the beginning of you and Spencer’s relationship, things had been very secretive. Not between the two of you; you guys were very comfortable with each other — too comfortable at times — it’s just that a relationship between two coworkers isn't the most ethical in the BAU, and at the time it seemed like the only option.

Despite not willingly sharing information pointing to the fact that you two were together, your coworkers were all seasoned profilers, and it was tough to get things past them, but you’d been doing a fair job — is what you’d thought.

“Mm!” a girlish little giggle tumbled from your mouth as Spencer pulled back from your lips, moving to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Stop!” you laughed, whisper shouting to him through a dopey smile.

“I can’t,” he breathed out, kissing your lips again, tilting your chin back. “I’ve waited all day to do this.”

“To hold me captive in a closet?” You joked, throwing your arms over his shoulders.

“It’s not holding you captive if you’re a willing participant.” To his satisfaction, his words just make your smile widen. It's harder to kiss you like that but it’s cute to see, the way your nose scrunched and your eyes crinkled as you tried to fight back the smile.

Knowing you, you’d have said you looked like an idiot right then but Spencer would correct you, telling you how beautiful you look – smiling carefree just for him.

He ducked his head, mouth right next to your left ear as he began to whisper something in it that’d surely weaken your knees, when there was a commotion outside.

Your breath hitched as your attention turned towards the door, your eyes wide. The noise was a thump of boxes hitting the ground, most likely someone trying to return some boxes back into the storage room, made for storage, not for making out.

You hurriedly pushed him off you, fixing your hair as he readjusted his tie just in time as the door was unlocked and opened. Spencer turned around, skimming the shelves as if looking with a purpose, and you followed his lead, crouching down to peek at a few files in the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet.

JJ entered the room, her eyes scanning over it, before she greeted you guys with a kind smile. Peering up, you waved back.

“What are you guys doing in here?” She asked, working on putting the 2 boxes back where she took them.

“Research,” Spencer murmured, plucking a folder of interest and beginning to flip through it.

“Yeah,” you agreed, closing the drawer when you pretended like you couldn’t find it. “He wanted to study up on a certain case.”

“Mm, and now I’ve got the file.” Tucking it under his arm, he walked past, exiting the stuffy room.

You got up, free of charge and calmly walked out, calm in contrast to how very rapidly your heart was beating. You exchanged final glances of relief with Spencer, sharing a wordless “that was a close call”.

Though JJ was none the wiser of what was going on before she encountered you, you couldn’t say the same for Derek when he overheard you and Spencer the following week.

It’d been late, having been called in around the time you and Spencer usually would head to bed.

“Did you remember to take the laundry out of the machine?” You asked Spencer, standing in the plane, talking amongst yourselves as Spencer lifted the coffee pot, pouring the liquid that spouts out into your mug.

The task mentioned was a pretty domestic one, and Derek turned an eye. No one even knew of your relationship, they for sure wouldn’t know that sometimes you stay over and it’d be ideal if when you returned you could grab your stuff easily.

“Since when did you two have discussions about each other’s laundry?” He spooked you, catching you off guard, a small gasp of surprise escaping you.

You sighed, waving him off and accepting the mug of coffee Reid made for you.

“It’s actually–“ Reid started beside you, but you gave him a small signal to shush for now.

“You and Garcia talk about it all the time,” - you chimed, dropping a bit of information you should not have been privy to - “why is it odd for us to talk about it? And, you know how forgetful Reid can be. A genius with an impeccable memory.. until it comes to household tasks.”

The first part of your sentence choked him. Whatever you were referencing was not something Spencer knew about, and not something you should have any knowledge of either.

“Just like your ‘babygirl’, I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, Der.” You used his nickname, patting him on the shoulder as you left him there.

It wasn’t the most convincing of covers, but at least it was the truth, he could be forgetful, and it was also a bonus to get to mess with Morgan and let him know that he isn’t as sneaky as he thinks. Hopefully that did its job to shut his teasing up, at least for a while.

There was nothing to say to get off scotch free when it came to the small scene that played out when Emily walked into the break room one afternoon to return her dish to the sink and was met with the sight of Spencer gently swiping his thumb at the corner of your lip to remove a bit of creamer, you looking up at him all doe eyed.

She just smiled to herself, rolling her eyes and began washing her dish, right beside you two oblivious love struck idiots.

When Spencer pulled away you noticed her, and your head hung low in defeat. There was no way she hadn’t just seen the clearly non platonic act of service.

“I- uh, we- uh,” Spencer sputtered out, stuffing his hand in his pocket, trying to think up an excuse.

“You two can stop trying to sneak around, we all know.” The raven haired woman laughed to herself in amusement.

“Just don’t forget, you need to have a talk about this with Hotch, there’s quite a bit of paperwork accompanying this sort of thing.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Em.” Spencer tightly smiled.

It’s definitely not like that’s exactly what you were trying to avoid revealing to him.

You nodded, finally getting to freely peck your boyfriend on the lips as a goodbye.

That following Monday you found yourself sat beside Spencer in chairs positioned across from your chief at his desk.

It’d been embarrassing to confess to Hotch how long you’d been actually together and what led you there, but even more humiliating was the fact that Hotch came prepared, like he knew exactly what was at the top of your list to check off that week.

“Don’t look surprised, you two should have learned by now that things don’t easily get past me. Especially when I hear two people’s over-the-phone flirting turn into more. Or when two other people make something so obvious. Don’t think your under the table hand holding goes unnoticed during case briefings.”

Spencer Reid fluff taglist: @tw1npeaks @bellasprettywords @spencerssoup @hiireadstuff @thievin-stealing @onlymyleftsideisgay @broadwaytraaaaash @khxna

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If you enjoyed this fic, please let me know your thoughts in the comments or my inbox and like & reblog to support! It’s what keeps me writing. Much love <33

[artdcnaldson]

whoa imagine patrick and art teaching how you how to blow them next? and then they like take turns with you giving hands-on demonstrations of how they think you’d like to be touched and fucked and taken care of? it’s not exactly a competition but they both want to do better and make you feel better than the other so it kind of is

Yeah 😌🩷

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Patrick x Reader x Art throuple dynamics, blowjob lessons <3, guys being pervy little manipulating snakes (affectionately)

A/N: I’m obsessed. Everyone say hiiii sex lessons au. Unedited sozz

You get week of you jerking one or both of them off whenever you’re alone together until Patrick decides to test the waters.

“You can put your mouth on it,” he says, when you’ve taken him into your grasp, nice and slow while you kiss him the intense, hungry way he’d taught you.

Your eyes widen slightly, and he swears he can hear your pulse thrumming.

“Patrick,” Art says, a warning. He’s on the other end of the bed, trying his best to study for a midterm while his friend is getting jerked off three feet away. He’d sit on the floor… but he’s ready to hop off the bench the second you or Patrick invite him to play.

Patrick rolls his eyes in annoyance. Art was so fucking dense sometimes. He knew Art wanted it just as bad, probably more because he was so goddamn repressed. He knew Art always wanted the same things he wanted, no matter how depraved, or how embarrassed he was to admit it. “What? I think it’s about time she learns to suck cock.”

“Jesus Christ, Pat,” you say with a nervous laugh. His lips quirk slightly. He fucking loves how embarrassed you can get, how one dirty word makes you hide your face like a shy little virgin. You were shy, but he was working on that last part.

He grins, runs a thumb along your bottom lip. It’s slick with spit, swollen from kissing him. God, is it such a crime that he wants those lips wrapped around his dick? “C’mon, you’ll like it,” he says, brushing his lips along your jaw, right below your ear. “You like jerking us off, right? It’s even better.”

You nod, leaning back to meet his gaze. “Will you show me?”

Patrick glances over at Art, who has pushed his textbook and notes out of the way entirely. “You heard her, Art, come show her.”

“Jesus, you can ask,” Art says, face scrunched in annoyance. You know there’s know malice, though— he wants it just as bad. You shift off of Patrick’s lap and sit beside him, where you get the perfect view of Art between his thighs. He tugs the brunet’s boxers down his thighs, tosses them absently across the room.

“Pay attention, honey,” Patrick tells you. He runs a hand through shaggy blond curls, making sure you watch as Art places wet kisses to his tip. Patrick moans, impatient, but relishing in the way your mouth falls open slightly, how your eyes widen.

Art opens his mouth wider and slowly eases Patrick’s cock inside. It’s wet, messy. Drool spills from the sides of his mouth, down the length of Patrick’s cock. It gathers at his base, drips down his balls. You watch Art’s cheeks hollow as he takes him deeper, how his eyes fill with water.

Patrick’s fingers press against your lips, pointer and middle, seeking entrance. You open your mouth and let him push his fingers in— salty like skin and sweat. It isn’t until they’re in your mouth that you realized how long they are, as they slip towards the back of your tongue and your mouth fills with spit and you gag. Patrick withdraws his fingers, stringy with spit, and grins.

“Try again for me— try to take ‘em deeper.”

Patrick’s riding high— your lips wrapped around his fingers as he pushes them in and out of your mouth, Art sucking his dick like a champ— he can’t ask for much more.

“Are you paying attention to Art?” You gag slightly as his fingers nudge the back of your throat, eyes stinging with tears. You shake your head and redirect your attention. “Look how deep he can take me. You’ll be able to do that soon, won’t you?”

To demonstrate his point, he pushes Art down by the back of his head, makes Art gag and moan around the intrusion. “Use your tongue, baby.” Neither of you knows who he’s talking to, so you both follow the order.

He keeps both of you there for god knows how long— laving him with attention. Art looks right at home, lashes splayed against his cheeks, head bobbing as he works Patrick’s dick. And you, eyes wide and starry with the need to impress him, to take advantage of all he could possibly teach you. I mean, fuck, he could tell you to jump and you’d ask how high.

He lets his best friend bring him to the edge, feels so deliciously close that he loses himself in it.

“Fuck, Art—“ Patrick cries out, tangling his fist into the blond’s hair for purchase. “Your fuckin’ mouth is something else. C’mon, take me down your throat. That’s it—“

Patrick comes with a groan, spilling down Art’s throat. Art, to his credit, swallows down everything Patrick gives him before pulling back, lips swollen and slick.

Patrick slips his fingers from your mouth— strings of spit connecting the two. He wipes his fingers on your cheek, pats it twice before dropping his hand.

“Think you can handle Art?” He asks with a grin. “He’s smaller than me, it’ll be easier for your first time, huh?”

Art slaps his arm, hard enough to leave a mark. “By fucking half an inch you asshole.”

Patrick rolls his eyes with a knowing smile, but doesn’t dig. “Alright then, Donaldson, whip it out. Her mouth’s fucking watering for it over here.”

Art scowls, but the thought of you sucking his dick is enough to smooth over his mildly bruised ego. He makes quick work of shucking off his clothes and leans against the headboard beside Patrick.

God, someone should take a picture. You’re settled between his legs, on your knees so your ass is up when you bring your mouth to Art’s cock. Your tongue peeks between your lips and you give a few testing kitten licks to his tip.

He moans, soft and pretty. You feel hands in your hair, petting you almost. You blink lazily, peering up to look at Art as you place slow open mouthed kisses to his shaft.

When you take him into your mouth, you feel his grip on your hair tighten, just enough to make you gasp. He’s warm and heavy on your tongue, salty with precum.

Even going slow, you can’t manage to fit much of him in your mouth. You gag with each attempt to take him deeper, eyes watering before you pull off and gasp for air. They watch your valiant efforts, getting off on the fucking filthy sounds of you gagging on Art and the sight of spit spilling down his cock.

“Here—“ Art says, taking one of your hands to wrap around his base. “Just follow your mouth with that. You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

“First fucking time he’s ever had to say that,” Patrick says with a grin. Art punches his shoulder hard enough that the brunet yelps.

With your hand attending to what doesn’t fit in your mouth, it’s easier. Art’s so easy to get worked up— so easy to bring to the edge. Patrick’s mouthing at his throat, and Art tilts his head to grant him more access. He always complains after about the marks— Art always bruises easy, like a fucking peach. 

“Just like that,” Art praises. It doesn’t feel like you’re doing a great job, but he looks like he’s having a real fucking nice time. “Keep going, baby. Doing so good.”

“We’re teaching her, so teach her,” Patrick says after he grows bored of the slow, sweet head you’re giving the blond. Patrick’s hand moves to the back of your head, pushing you further down until your throat constricts instinctively and your eyes widen in surprise.

“I know you can take more. Just need some exposure therapy. Breathe through your nose— that’s it— good girl.” You will yourself to relax, to center yourself. He didn’t push you far, just enough that Art is brushing against the back of your tongue.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you swallow around the intrusion, making Art practically whine. “F-fuck Patrick— let her up—“ he groans. It’s then that Patrick moves his hand, letting you pull up and get a large gulp of air. Your face feels hot, your jaw aches slightly.

Art brushes your hair from your face tenderly. “Keep your mouth open like that, okay?” You nod, let him rest the head of his cock on the center of your tongue. He replaces your hand with his own, jerking himself off quickly, methodically.

You nearly flinch as the first rope of cum hits your tongue— warm, salty, thick. You’re caught off guard by the sheer volume of it— you’d felt it coat your hand, but it’s different when it’s spilling directly onto your tongue. He’s panting as he finishes, and you’re left sitting with a mouthful of cum. You swallow it like bitter medicine, like you’d seen girls do in porn.

“How was it?” You ask Art.

“Good for a first try,” he says. “We’ll let you practice, get you ready for when you get boyfriend.”

A/N: Tashi incoming <3 imagine her reaction when she finds out these boys haven’t been making you cum 😵‍💫

[princessbrunette]

In need fathers day with baby daddy rafe, pretty pretty please princess 💕

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you always felt nervous going to tannyhill. not that you felt unwelcome, everyone in his life made it clear that rafe’s baby was of utmost importance to them — so with that came the kind and supportive treatment toward you. however, you couldn’t help but feel like a burden. if rafe wanted to be around you and his kid 24/7, he would do so — hell, he’d get back with you. due to feeling like this, your palms were all sweaty by the time you’d reached the front door, card tucked under you and baby carrier weighing down your arm.

he looks surprised to see you when he opens the door. still in his shirt and slacks, it’s clear to you that rafe had buried himself in work today. it only then occurs to you that father’s day might be difficult for him, giving his circumstances at all. you inwardly wince.

“uh, hey.” he eyes you, itching his cheek and peering into the baby carrier.

you clear your throat, bashfully holding out the card. he takes it in silence and you place the carrier down, picking up your sleepy baby and holding her to your chest. “happy father’s day, daddy.” you smile, voice soft as to not disturb your child too much. he softens a little, blinking.

“that today?” he breathes and you stiffen a little. surely he knew?

“uh, yeah. we got you a card, wanted to let you spend some time with her today if you’re not too busy.”

“if i’m not too— listen i’m never too busy to see my kid okay? or you. i’m— i’m never too busy to… see my family… and stuff.” it’s awkward, the sentiment too soft for his liking and he looks down, staring at the sweet, milk-plumped angel in your arms. “let me…” he reaches out and takes her, her fat little fists immediately stretching for him and curling into the material of his shirt making your heart swell. he was always oddly a natural at this, handling her so well. it always filled you with a strange kind of sadness, one that regressed you slightly to something more scolded and childlike because your own father hadn’t offered you that same generosity. yet, you were thrilled your baby would receive that love even if you weren’t together with her father.

“come in, please.” he stands aside, holding the door for you before picking up the carrier in his other hand— effortlessly walking it with the baby to the living room. “you walked here?” he converses, setting the carrier down and placing the baby back inside, crouching down to stroke her tummy with the side of his finger.

“took the bus. no way im walking with that heavy thing.” you chuckle quietly and he swivels his head to glance at you.

“should’ve told me you were coming i would have got you. y’know i really don’t like you getting on the bus with her, it’s not safe alright, there’s all kinds of lunatics out there.”

“we survived.” you shrug, and there’s a short silence before he stands up, reaching for the card and opening it up. you fiddle with the hem of your dress awkwardly. you never quite knew what to do around rafe these days.

you watch as he reads the contents. ‘to daddy, thanks for being the best and always looking after me. can’t wait to be able to tell you myself how much i love you.’ you sign it off as your daughter, but his eyes linger over it, your sweet handwriting scrawled around the brightly coloured paper — almost for a moment like you were saying it yourself.

“and before you ask, yes she said all of that herself.” you joke to ease the tension and he snaps out of it, looking up at you with a chuckle.

“our little wordsmith, huh?” he smirks, wandering over to the mantelpiece and displaying the card. it filled you with some kind of pride, though it wasn’t about you. “look uh…” he strokes his jaw, glancing over at the baby. “let me take you both out for dinner, yeah? my treat.”

“your treat? rafe its father’s day, we’re supposed to be treating you—”

“i know, alright but… i’m supposed to be looking after you, right? looking… looking after you both.” he corrects himself, walking closer to you until he was basically looming over you, eyes wide. “and— and i know this is a hard day for you too, alright— shit, it’s a hard day for me. gotta bond as a family at some point, you know that right?”

you nod, feeling a weight off your shoulders a little at the way the tension fizzles out.

“you sure? i don’t wanna take up your time—”

your incessant apologising makes his eyes flutter in irritation and he takes your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him as he ducks his neck down to be more at your level.

“you’re not… yeah? you’re not. so quit.”

you blink all dumb, not realising how badly you missed his hands on you even if it was just as an innocent gesture and you nod, not trusting your voice. you try not to overthink the way he leaves his hands there for a moment as he glances over at your baby, thumb absentmindedly stroking your cheekbone for a second before pulling away and patting his pockets. “has she slept?”

your brain malfunctions so it takes you a second, but soon you choke out a “y—yeah. had her afternoon nap she’s just still waking up.”

“good. i know somewhere quiet, got a host there who owes me a favour.” he strides to the carrier and lifts it before turning back towards you, blinking at you obviously. “well are you coming or— or what?”

“yeah. yes. i’m coming.”

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[avatar-anna]

It's Not a Competition (But It Is)

i just feel like this song is so reader coded in this series like she literally gets annoyed by how much she likes him and at first refuses to admit but of course she can't hide it forever...

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader Masterlist

"What are you staring at?"

"Nothing. I'm not staring. Who's staring?"

You narrowed your eyes at Harry from across the couch. He was on one end, you on the other, as you studied for your respective midterms. You hadn't meant to stay after hooking up, but Harry offered his shower and an extra set of clothes and promised not to bother you if you wanted a quiet place to go over your notes, and despite the warning bells flaring in your head, you stayed.

As promised, there were no distractions. You were able to go over your psych notes in peace, the only sounds in Harry's apartment being the instrumental music he put on and the clicks of his keyboard as he worked on his laptop. It was comfortable, almost too comfortable, you thought. This wasn't the kind of relationship you anticipated when you and Harry hooked up for the first time. It was supposed to be strictly physical, transactional, a satisfaction of mutual needs.

But you felt it—Harry's stare as you reviewed key terms and quizzed yourself with your professor's review guide. There wasn't any heat behind the stare, it was more of a soft, warm glow. Affection. Harry stared at you with affection, and you weren't sure how to make the responding butterflies in your stomach stop fluttering so intensely.

"You're being a creep," you finally said, shifting in your spot on the couch as if you could physically shake off the weight of that stare.

Harry's brows raised above his blue light glasses, amused by your assessment. You'd never seen him wear them before, but they framed his stupidly beautiful face perfectly. You thought they softened his appearance, made him look less like the overconfident jock you knew too well.

"You really wanna know?" he asked, a playful grin on his face. "I don't think you wanna know."

"I asked, didn't I?"

Harry's grin widened before turning back to his laptop. "I just think you look pretty in my clothes. That's all."

His smirk was self-satisfied as if he knew what your reaction would be, which pissed you off even more. Before you knew it, you took a throw pillow and chucked it at his head.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"I look pretty in your clothes?"

"It's a compliment, princess," Harry said. "You would be the one to get pissy over something like that."

You sniffed. "Sorry I'm not at your feet like one of your adoring fans."

"Hey now, I never said I didn't like it. I like this thing we have going on. The banter. It keeps things interesting."

"Whatever."

"Would you rather I said you looked hot? Sexy?" Harry challenged, though his smirk told you he was playing around, laying a teasing trap to see if you'd take the bait. "Why can't I tell the girl I'm sleeping with she looks beautiful in my clothes? That's like every guy's wet dream."

You frowned and picked at your nails, trying to ignore the effect his words had on you. "You're sounding too romantic. Like you're my boyfriend or something."

Closing his laptop once more, Harry set it on the coffee table in front of him and turned toward you completely. He looked too soft, too cuddly, too kissable in his worn gray sweatshirt, his hair extra curly from the shower you shared together earlier. And when he shuffled across the couch toward you, the smell of his shampoo dizzied you, made it hard for you to focus on his words.

"You say that like it would be a bad thing," he said. His voice was light, but there was an undercurrent of weight to it. This was the conversation you and Harry avoided, danced around, hid from, at every turn. You could see it in his eyes sometimes that he wanted to have it, that he wanted more. But you...you just couldn't.

"We agreed—"

"Yeah, yeah. We agreed. Just sex," Harry grumbled as he pulled off his crew neck. "I can haul you over my knee and spank you all I want but I can't say you can't look cute in my clothes. Pathetic, Y/n, really."

You blushed, playfully swatting his hand away when he tried to push your—his—shirt up. "What are you doing? We already did that!"

"Well not-couples don't sit around studying together, so come on," Harry said, smiling as he play-fought you on the couch.

You giggled your way out of your clothes wrapping your arms and legs around him as he kissed along your jaw. "No, don't do that. This is strictly sex between us. Only girlfriends hold boyfriends like that."

"Don't make fun of me," you said, breathless from laughing.

"I'm not making fun, princess. Promise. We're just two people who love to fuck. And study together and train to—"

You cut Harry off with a kiss, fisting a hand in his hair tight enough to make him hum. The slide of his mouth against yours was familiar, practiced, as dizzying as the first time you kissed him. Since the very beginning, it had been easy with Harry. Too easy, too right. You thought it was just the tension between you and him finally snapping in half, that he'd finally pushed enough of your buttons and you just needed to get him out of your system. And then it happened again, and it felt just as good as the first time. Maybe even better. So it kept happening again. And again. Until you were staying over at his place and he had a drawer at yours and he laughed at your stupid jokes and you knew what he meant when he talked about hockey stats and his favorite place to eat off campus.

And now you were here.

You didn't know where "here" was, though. You knew where Harry thought it was, you knew what he wanted beneath all his teasing and joking. But you didn't know what you wanted. Or you did, and perhaps didn't know how to admit it.

"I should go," you whispered after, even though you knew you didn't have to. Harry's body was warm and sturdy beside yours, the hand drawing circles up and down your back and through your hair pleasant, calming. Your eyes were getting tired, blinking slower and slower as your head laid on his chest.

"Yeah," Harry replied, his chest expanding and falling as he sighed. "But I don't want you to."

You didn't either, though you didn't say it out loud. You just nestled deeper into Harry's chest and wrapped your arms around his waist.

And you stayed.

*.*

Harry woke to the sound of his phone buzzing noisily on by his bed. Too tired to make any sense of who was calling him at such a late hour or why, he didn't even bother sending it to voicemail, merely turning over in his bed and dozing back to sleep once the buzzing stopped.

And then it happened again.

That time, Harry did send the call to voicemail, believing it to be one of Harry's teammates trying to pull some kind of prank. By the third call, he was thoroughly annoyed.

"What?"

"Do you not like me anymore?"

Rubbing his eyes, Harry looked down at his phone, more specifically, the caller ID, for the first time. "Y/n? Is everything okay? Why are you calling so late?"

"It's Friday night why do you—hiccup!—why do you sound like you're asleep?"

"Because I was," Harry said, groaning before sitting up in his bed. Running a hand over his face, he asked, "Are you drunk?"

"No! Yes! Maybe a little tipsy. The nice bartender gave me a double shot for my drink," Y/n said, giggling to herself.

*.*

Harry woke up some more at her giggling, already reaching for the pair of jeans he'd ditched by his bed earlier. He'd gotten home after an away game earlier and didn't have it in him to go out, not to mention the pile of homework he left for the last minute. Y/n went out with her friends, insisting that she could go a Friday night without hooking up with him. Harry had laughed at the time, but selfishly wished she was with him now.

"How nice of him," Harry replied, trying not to let the idea of anyone flirting with Y/n bother him too much. "So, you're okay?"

"I—hiccup!—I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, you're the one who called me out of the blue."

"Well, I," Y/n started, her voice drowned out by loud noise of whatever bar or party she was at. Then it all quieted as if she was suddenly alone. "I wasn't going to call you, but then I did."

Harry smirked. "Aw, did you miss me, princess?"

"No!" she snapped, perhaps a little too quickly. "No, but I just—I was ready to leave and no one else was and I know it was stupid of me because you're always tired after away games, but I thought—"

"I'm already on my way," Harry said, sliding off his bed as he picked up his jeans off the floor.

"Really? You don't have to. We're not—I mean you're not—"

"Send me your location, princess. I'll make sure you get home safe."

Y/n was quiet for a moment, presumably sending Harry her location while he shrugged into a t-shirt and grabbed his jacket. And an extra one for her, just in case.

"Maybe...Maybe I can stay at your place tonight?"

Harry's heart leaped in his chest, but he didn't let himself get his hopes up. Y/n was drunk, and he might've just wanted to hear the plea, the affection, in her voice. She didn't like him that way, or didn't want to admit that she did. He just needed to be patient.

"Course, princess," Harry finally said. "Sit tight, okay? I'll be there soon."

Skating always brought you clarity. Going through a familiar routine and landing tricks was what made sense. Moving through the music, letting the music move through you, helped you relax.

But today was different. Today you skated around the rink in circles, no choreography or music flowing through you. You skated in a daze, hoping you could leave your thoughts behind you with another lap, but they were as quick as you were as you glided across the ice.

"Y/n?"

Your most persistent thought of all.

You skated one last loop before coming to a stop at the rinks entrance. Harry stood on the other side, backpack on his shoulders and baseball cap covering most of his curls. It was a vision you were more than familiar with, you even knew the slightly concerned furrow of his brow.

"Everything okay? You weren't at the library."

"I—I just needed to skate," was all you managed to say, your breaths still coming out unevenly.

"Oh. Can I join you?" he asked, already shrugging out of his backpack.

"Just like that?" you asked him, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

"Just like that."

Leaning across the barricade Harry kissed your forehead. There was a small smile on his face as he pulled away and gingerly pushed that same strand of hair away.

Because that was a thing you and Harry did now. You'd finally admitted to yourself what Harry had known all along, so now he was your boyfriend. It had taken a moment to wrap your head around it, though your dynamic with Harry didn't change all that much. Not at first, anyway. Until your first date at a bowling alley, then the second at a sushi place in town, then you began opening up about your home life, your family, sharing things with him that you never had before. Now you got extremely jealous when girls came up to him and tried to flirt, and Harry, who wasn't afraid to admit he'd always been jealous when he saw you flirt with other guys, wasn't afraid to scare those same guys off.

You and Harry were finally dating, and it was...good. more than good. It was—

"It was the date, wasn't it? Was it too much?" he asked later as skated beside you, having finally gotten his skates from his locker. Harry's skates were clunkier than yours, meant for speed and agility so he could race down pucks and out skate his opponents, while yours is slim and geared toward performing tricks. You watched them as they glided across the ice as you figured out what to say.

The date Harry referred to wasn't meant to be anything special, not any more special than the others were. But then Harry did what Harry did best and went above and beyond.

He somehow scored tickets to the ballet and surprised you with them and a candlelit dinner before the performance. It was perfect, all of it incredibly perfect. Harry in his suit and tie, different than his game-day suit, you in the fanciest dress you owned—pale yellow and off-the-shoulder, the bodice shaped like a bow.

It was a night filled with hand holding and kisses to your bare shoulder as you observed the performance. The seats Harry got were far from the stage, but you didn't care. You were enthralled by the dancers and the night your boyfriend planned for you, and Harry was just enthralled by you. You felt his stare all night, the same one he'd had since the first time you met, only now you knew what it meant.

Then at the end of the night, he walked you to your door, kissed you, and let you go inside. When you asked why he wasn't following, all he said was, "You have a competition tomorrow. I know you like to be alone so you can mentally prepare."

And that was that. He left, and you went inside and replayed the night in your head over and over and over again. You saw him the next morning at your competition, but you were too focused, all your feelings carefully compartmentalized so you could perform your absolute best. But the second you got off the ice, you thought of him, and only him, and all the ways he made you feel entirely too much and how you couldn't see yourself with anyone else.

It was too much, too many giant feelings to make sense of all at once. So you took some time to yourself the next couple days, and instead of meeting Harry at the library to study like you'd planned a week ago and headed for the skating rink instead.

"The date was perfect," you said now, your eyes trained on the ice beneath your skates. "It wasn't—It wasn't the date."

"So...you blew off studying with me because you...what? You just felt like it?" Harry asked, his voice carrying the slightest edge to it. Your boyfriend was incredibly patient despite your apparent aversion to dealing with your growing emotions. But he was still human, and honestly, you were a little annoyed with yourself too.

"No, I—"

"Then what's going on, Y/n? I know things haven't been easy, but if I'm coming on too strong and we need to slow down, then—"

"I don't want to slow down."

"Okay, then what—"

"I love you!" you said, coming to a stop in front of him. The words just tumbled out of your mouth, and now they wouldn't stop, like a dam had broken inside you. "I've come to the realization that I'm in love with you. A lot, and—and I'm overwhelmed by it and a little annoyed that you've managed to make me feel so much more than I ever planned to, so... that's why I didn't show up. I'm sorry, I just—I love you, I guess, and I didn't know how to tell you. But I also couldn't sit next to you and not say it either."

Harry said nothing for a couple seconds, looking down at his skates, then you, then back down again. Then he began to laugh.

You gaped at him. "Hey—You're laughing at me? I know it wasn't as romantic as you would've made it but, but I love you, you stupid fucking jerk!"

That only made him laugh more, which made you spin on your skates and glide away from him. He called after you, but you kept going, except he was a faster skater than you were and caught up to you before you wanted him to. Harry grabbed you by the waist and spun you around so faced him. He was smiling wide, his nose bright red from the chill of the rink.

"I'm laughing because you got to say it first," he said. "I'm laughing because I have been waiting for the right time to tell you, walking on eggshells for almost two years now, and you just—you beat me to it. That's all."

You blinked. Then laughed a little yourself. "So it was a competition? I won?"

"Yeah," Harry scoffed. "You won. Now stop stress skating and come with me to the library, you neurotic freak."

"Competitive ass."

"I love you," Harry said, using the smile he usually reserved for getting out of trouble or getting what he wanted. It was a smile you pretended you could resist, perhaps more for your sake than his, but now you didn't even try.

You rolled your eyes before kissing him, not confused or scared of the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as a result. " I love you too."

[beesspacedotorg]

Honeysuckle, Honey Boy, Honey Sweet

Summary: You take care of your Beta during his rut, and he's sweet as can be.

Warning: OMEGAVERSE !!!1!!1! sex. gender neutral reader. nothing too crazy for this one. hyune is sweet and subby because this is my house I make the rules. you don't have to read Dibs or Third Leg to understand what's going on, but it would make me happy. special thanks to ems for reading this and letting me know if it was bars. and for letting me steal the honey boy nickname

notes: hello adoring public. this is the third part of the dibsverse. this is what happens when you're insane. I had intended to post this in March and then forgot. Oopsie. I hope you enjoy it and have fun reading it the way I had fun imagining Hwang Hyunjin sweaty and naked.

You love your Hyunjin, your honey boy. That’s how you refer to him in your head, as yours. In all reality, you share him with the pack, but he holds a special place in your heart. He found you first, he kissed you first, he was your first in this pack for many things. You two are laying together, curled up on his bed watching some Business Proposal for what feels like the hundredth time.

“He looks a little like Seungmin,” is what you say and he rolls his eyes.

“You say that every time.”

“It’s not my fault. He does. Also, the glasses thing is hot.” Hyunjin huffs at you.

“I wear glasses.” He sounds like he’s pouting. You turn your head to the side and see that he is.

“Are you … Hwang Hyunjin, are you jealous? Of Cha Sunghoon?” You pause the show. Hyunjin presses his palms into his eyes and sighs.

“No. Well. Maybe.” You frown at him, it’s not like him to be jealous. He’s so full of love for everyone and everything, and you know that the pack would bend over backwards to make sure he feels cared for so this has to be something specific.

“Hyunnie. What’s wrong?”

“I think my cycle is going to start soon.” You hum at him.

“What’s it feel like?” Hyunjin is a Beta, so while his cycles may be mild, he’s subjected to either heats or ruts depending on who he’s around. Your pack has a considerable amount of Omegas, and you know that Changbin’s cycle throws him all over the place depending on who he spends more time around during that period, but you aren’t sure how Hyunjin’s works. The two of you have been together for a while, but his cycle is slower than most, so he hasn’t yet had anything.

“A rut, I think.” You hum again.

“Is that why you’re needlessly jealous over me thinking a fictional character is hot?”

“I’m not jealous-”

“You most certainly are.”

“Fine, I’m not jealous of Cha Sunghoon.”

“Better. Who are you jealous of then, baby?” He hides his face in a pillow and says something that you don’t hear.

“What?” You raise your voice a little, poking his side until he answers you.

“I’m jealous of Seungmin.” That makes you still.

“Seungminnie? What- why?” Hyunjin crosses his arms.

“You keep talking about how hot he is!”

“Well, what do you want me to do, be blind?”

“No, I just-” Hyunjin flops himself over in bed so he’s not facing you anymore, and you can tell from the way his sweet honeysuckle turns into rot that he’s not happy. You lay down beside him and wrap your arms around his back.

“Honey boy. What is it you want me to do?”

“Will you spend it with me?”

“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry.” You kiss the back of his neck, his long hair tickling your nose. “Anything for you, baby.”

-

Felix drapes himself along your back while you’re in the kitchen.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Yongbokkie. What’s up?”

“Hyunjinnie smells like he’s close.”

“Does he?” Your tone is tinged with sarcasm. Hyunjin hasn’t let you out of his sight for very long since you agreed, getting more and more possessive as it gets closer to the start of his cycle. You don’t mind, but you’re also more aware than anyone else how close he is, all things considered. Felix bites you in retaliation for your snark.

“Mean.”

“Captain obvious.”

“What are you doing in here? All by your lonesome.” Felix’s hands start wandering and you laugh a little at him.

“I was going to see if we had enough food, but it seems our Luna took care of that already. So, I’m making a snack instead.” Felix starts to slide his hands under your shirt, mouthing at your neck.

“That’s crazy. I could be your snack instead.” You burst into laughter, shaking him off a little.

“That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, and Changbin took me on a date last week.” You hear a half-hearted yell from the living room that makes you snort.

“So… is that a no?” Felix’s hands are resting on your hips, and you feed him a bit of your snack when he hooks his chin over your shoulder.

“That is a no.” Felix huffs, letting go of you to throw a fake fit behind you.

Felix pretends to throw things around the kitchen, ranting about spoiled Omegas and how they don’t know how to please their Alphas anymore. Something you find extremely ironic, because Felix is an Omega. You’re in the middle of laughing at him when Hyunjin comes in, hair wet from his shower. He gives you a backhug, water droplets falling on you.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Hyunnie. How was your shower?”

“Would’ve been better if you were in it.” You hear Felix gag. Hyunjin flips him off.

“That’s what she said.” You can’t help yourself, giggling at your own joke. Hyunjin takes Felix’s place in your neck.

“Lee Felix Yongbok.” You hear Felix snicker.

“Yeah?” He’s wormed his way between you and the counter to stare Hyunjin in the eye. He’s also in the way of your snack.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what? I’m not doing anything.” Felix smiles, sweet and deceiving, before he wraps his arms around your waist and gets nose-to-nose with Hyunjin.

“I’m telling Channie hyung.” Felix shrugs. Hyunjin’s scent changes so something a little tangier and you can picture him squinting his eyes. “I’m telling Minho.” Felix pulls away almost immediately.

“Hyunjinnie, you’re so mean to me.”

“You’re riling me up on purpose!” Lavender hits your nose before Hyunjin is done speaking.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble. Felix is still in the way of your snack.

“Yongbokkie,” you know that coo. Felix is fucked.

“Hi, hyung.”

“Are you teasing our Hyunjinnie?”

“I would never.”

“Liar,” Felix has finally moved away from your food. You shove some of it in your mouth when you snitch on him.

“Hey!” He says that, but he’s following where Minho is dragging him with little to no resistance.

“Send me pictures, please.”

“Perv.”

“Sky is blue, grass is green.” Hyunjin grumbles some more as the resident cats of the house leave the kitchen. You feed him.

“Do you want to go to my room, dove?” His voice is quiet, sleepy.

“Yeah. Let’s lay down, hmm?”

-

You like Hyunjin’s room. The walls are painted a calming shade of periwinkle and they’re decorated with pictures of the pack and paintings he made. His desk is covered in half finished sketchbooks and paints. If you look at his easel, there’s a half drawn portrait of you with a picture you don’t remember him taking attached to it.

He’s also in there, which is nice.

He’s woken you up from a nap, hips rutting against your ass and sweat dripping onto your skin.

“Hyune?” Your voice is crackly and groggy with sleep, you think you might have sweat through your shirt, and there’s a pillow crease on your cheek.

“Baby,” he lets out a whine and something in you cracks a little.

“Hey, hmm? What’s wrong?” You turn around to cup his cheeks, and he leans his head into them. You know what’s wrong, so the question is a little redundant, but you ask anyway. Not that it matters, because instead of answering he hikes your leg over his hip and grinds against you in a way that’s dirty and draws noises out of you that you know you’re going to get shit for later.

“Hyunjin, sweetheart, let’s get these off, yeah?” You move to pull away and his grip tightens on you in a way that’s almost painful, an arm coming up under your body to wrap around your waist. He lets out a short growl, and then his eyes widen at himself.

“Okay, yeah. That’s fine. We can stay like this.” His hips pick back up, and you know without a doubt that these sleep shorts and underwear are going straight in the trash when you’re done. Well, maybe not straight. Han Jisung and Lee Felix are freaks.

You let him rut against you messily, kissing his face and his mouth when you can. He’s stronger than he looks, and you aren’t doing anything to fight back, so his motions are rocking you up the bed.

He lets out another whine when he comes, face red and sweaty and the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s finally still, and you can feel every place where your body fluids are cooling down and it’s largely unpleasant. Hyunjin seems to agree because he starts shoving at the clothes he’s wearing angrily. You grab his hands.

“Hey, hey, Hyunjinnie. Let me help, yeah? Let me help and then you can finally fuck me. Isn’t that what you want?” You get to watch his pupils dilate in real time, plush lips falling open as his jaw drops. He’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You want to eat him alive. You take off his clothes and yours, dropping the soiled clothes somewhere on the floor because Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care what happens to them right now.

You and him have fucked, to be sure. After everything with Minho, there isn’t a moment where you aren’t being propositioned by someone in the pack. You’ve never seen him like this though, flushed and sweaty, out of it with rut. For a second, you’re worried he might have rut fever, but he can still understand you when you talk to him, and he still kisses back when you press your lips to him, so he’s fine.

“Dove,” his voice is scratchy with disuse and something else.

“Hmm?”

“Want in, please, let me. Lemme,” his hands are pawing at your hips desperately. You lace your fingers through his hair and pull his head back, kissing his neck.

“Calm down. I’ve gotta get ready first. You don’t wanna hurt me, do you?” He shakes his head as best he can through the grip you have on his hair. “That’s what I thought. My honey boy doesn’t wanna hurt his precious Omega, right?” You shift so you’re straddling him, seating yourself right above his cock. You know he can feel where you’re leaking and wet for him. You know what you’re doing is mean, but he already came once, you can have some fun.

“Hyunjinnie,” you let go of his hair to rest your hands on his chest, sliding yourself along his cock. “You feel so nice like this, maybe I won’t even let you inside.” He pouts, eyes furrowing in that cute way of his, bottom lip jutting out and you kiss it.

“I’m kidding.”

“Better be.”

You get yourself off like that, sliding along his cock, letting the tip graze your hole for just a second, just to tease. Hyunjin comes too, a second time, adding to the slick mess on his stomach. He’s whining now, hands grabbing everywhere he can reach, your chest, your ass, your neck, but he hasn’t made any move to force you despite his rut. He’s dirty, your boy.

You know that you wouldn’t be getting away with this if it wasn’t Hyunjin. You know that if you were with any of the Alpha’s during their ruts or Changbinnie or the Omega’s you would’ve been pinned to the bed and stuffed full by now. The knowledge gives you a bit of a head rush. That Hyunjinnie wants you to make him beg a little for what he wants, that he trusts you to take care of him when he’s too out of it to take care of himself. You lean forward and kiss him, all tongue and teeth and filthy.

“Dove, please.” He says this against your mouth, one hand coming up to the back of your head, the other gripping your wrist where it still sits on his chest. You can feel how his grip tightens and loosens periodically, and you appreciate the effort he’s making to not hurt you.

You lean back and this time, this time, you let him sink into you, sliding down down down until you’re at the hilt, sitting prettily on his hips. The noise he lets out is music to your ears, but it’s loud. You hum, rocking against him while he squirms under you.

“Hyunjinnie, baby.”

“Mm?” He peeks his eyes open, god, he’s a vision. Pretty brown eyes blown wide, mouth kiss bruised and open just enough that his pretty tongue is peeking out just a little. His hair is sweat slick just like the rest of him and it’s plastered to his face in some areas.

“Open your mouth for me, honey.” He does, a little confused, but sweet like always. You shove two of your fingers in his mouth and watch as his eyes roll back in his head and his hips buck up into you.

He’s groaning as he sucks on your fingers, treating them the way he would a cock, and you throb at the visual. He’s wrapped his own long fingers around your wrist, moving your hand in and out of his mouth himself. You use a little force to make him gag on them, just because, and the moan he grants you with has you feeling dizzy.

“Honey boy,” You keep your fingers in his mouth as you return your focus to riding him. “Such a pretty boy. Pretty cock too, yeah?” You hook your fingers behind his teeth and yank his jaw open. He has such a pretty mouth. Maybe after his ruts over you’ll play with it. Run the pads of your fingers over his teeth and along his tongue. Push your fingers back until he gags on them, hold them there for good measure. Watch as his drool runs down his face and off your wrist before teasing him for making such a mess.

“Should I get one of the Alpha’s in here? Hmm? Let you choke on their cocks while I ride you silly? Or maybe I should bring in Changbinnie? He stretches your jaw out so nice, doesn’t he?” You feel Hyunjin’s dick kick inside you, but he shakes his head anyway.

“No, you don’t want that?” He grabs your wrist to pull your fingers free and you oblige.

“No, want,” he sucks in a shaky breath when you wipe his spit on his cheek, “just want you.”

If he wasn’t high off brain chemicals, you’d accuse him of flirting with you. You know that he’s not running game, just being honest and sweet, but something in your chest flutters and seizes, causing you to stop your movements.

“Hyunjin,” you didn’t think you’d cry this time. Absolutely certain that you could avoid it if you were taking the lead. He lets out a whine like he’s been hurt and reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“Dove?” He sounds panicked, and you kiss him to shut him up. You know he’s been thrown for a loop by your tears, worried he’s hurt you or underperforming in some way, not with it enough to know that you’re crying because you’re in love with him.

“You’re a charmer, aren’t you, Jinnie?” You sniff slightly and pat his shoulder. “I’m getting tired, why don’t you finish the job, hmm?” He goes to turn you over and you pinch his arm. “Like this. I like the way you look under me.” You smile salaciously at him and he ducks his head a little, suddenly shy. You stay where you are, nose-to-nose with him so you can kiss him when you please and lift your knees a little so he has room to play, and he takes it.

He’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but that doesn’t stop him from shifting around until he’s found an angle that has you moaning almost as loud as he is. It makes him smirk, all self satisfied and cocky, before you yank his hair a little and he loses it.

“‘S good.” He’s cute like this, moaning and whining about how hot and wet you are around him.

“Yeah? Just a little more and you’ll make me come too.” He groans. “You want that? Want me to come on your cock?” He nods fervently and his thrusts get faster. You lean down so your lips are pressed against his ear and you can feel his sweat slicked chest gliding against yours.

“Or, maybe you want me to come on your knot. C’mon, honey boy. Let me have it. Your Omega wants it so bad.”

He growls this time, yanking you down by the hips while he fucks up into you, forcing his knot inside your heat. He’s a Beta, so admittedly his knot isn’t as big as an Alpha’s is, but you moan and come on it just like you said you would.

“More.” He reaches his hand between the two of you and places it where you’re sensitive and swollen.

“Hyunnie, what?”

“One more. One more, c’mon.” His spare hand comes up to rest inbetween to shoulder blades, forcing your chest down against him. Between that and his knot you’re stuck

“You motherfucker-”

“Please,” his voice is deep and low and right in your ear. He lets out a groan when the way he’s touching you has him clenching on his knot.

“Hwang Hyunjin-” Your threat is too breathy to have any bite.

“You said you’d do it, you have to.” It doesn’t seem to dawn on him that you came when he did, or if it did he doesn’t care because he keeps up the stimulation until you fall apart on top of him again, walls fluttering along his cock, teeth biting just shy of his scent gland.

When you come back to yourself, he’s pressing kisses on your shoulder.

“You’re a shithead.” You tell him this softly, while running your fingers along the side of his face. He grumbles in response.

“You bit me.”

“Deserved.”

You stop scolding him to kiss him again. It’s not your fault his mouth is so kissable.

“You feel better, honey boy?”

“I feel tired.”

“Good.” He rolls the two of you over until you’re on your side, eyes closing. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth.” He squints at you.

“Why?”

“I wanna see it.”

“You’re a freak.” He drops his jaw anyway.

-

(Halfway through your in depth exploration of his molars your phone buzzes. It’s Minho, with pictures of Felix fucked out and crying.

“Who?” Your fingers are still in Hyunjin’s mouth so it comes out muffled. You show him your phone as you take them out.

“Lixie got his just desserts.”

“You can be my dessert.”

“Corny.” You let him roll you onto your back anyway.)

[mattscoquette]

✧ ˚🎀 twitch stream

your key entered the slot of chris and nicks apartment, you letting yourself in quietly. matt had been in and out of meetings all morning, and you were stuck at work until the later afternoon, so your boyfriends brothers were babysitting the girls until matt was able to pick them up. from there, he decided to just spend some time with his daughters and their uncles because it had been quiet some time since they all were together. you climbed the stairs, entering matt’s room to see him sat back in his gaming chair, a controller in hand while both of your daughters were sat on either side of his lap.

one of the little blonde-haired girls looked over to you, her eyes lighting up. “mommy!” stella cheered, clambering off of matt’s lap to run over to you. you quickly crouched to her level, opening your arms to envelop her in a hug.

“hi baby,” you smiled, playing a kiss on her cheek, “how are you?”

she pulled away, flashing you a gapped-tooth smile. “look! my tooth fell out!”

“wow, and how did that happen?” you asked quizzically, now standing at your full height.

“ask uncle chrissy.” matt chimed in, your other daughter, lorelai, still sat on his lap.

you laughed, going over to matt, noticing he was streaming live on twitch. your arms wrapped around your boyfriends shoulders, placing your head next to his as you gave him a quick kiss on the side of his jaw.

“hi my love,” he said, turning his head to the side to give you a real kiss. “how was work?”

“it was okay,” you sighed, pulling away. you directed your attention towards lorelai, who’s attention was fixed on the monitor in front of her. “you like this game, sweetie?” you laughed, her focus amusing you.

“mhmmmm,” she hummed up at you, nodding her head. “uncle nick told me he’s better than daddy, but i don’really think so.”

“i am better than your daddy.” nick chimed in, his voice echoing loud from matt’s computer speakers. this caused you four to laugh, stella finding her way back to her dads lap.

“nick you’re literal dogshit at this game.” chris argued over the call.

“chris,” matt scolded, trying to cover his daughters ears. “why don’t you tell everyone how my daughter lost her tooth today, hm?”

“yeah, i’m curious to know too.” you agreed, glancing over at the chat as the commented were filled with compliments to you and the girls, everyone saying how the stream instantly got better since you got there.

“well, you know how it was loose already, right?” chris began, taking a large swig of his drink. you all hummed in agreement. “well, me and stel were playing on the couch, and she wouldn’t stop jumping off the side onto me.” this caused you to laugh a little loud, that sounding exactly like stella.

“next thing i know, she misses my arms and bangs her face into my shoulder, and when she comes back up her front tooth is gone.” chris exclaims.

“you tell mommy what happened after that, munchkin.” matt told stella, diverting his attention away from the game to look at the young girl sitting with him.

“uncle nick had to push the couch to get my tooth!” she giggled.

“my goodness,” you sighed, “that sounds like quite a lot of trouble.”

“and uncle chrissy said that stel’s gon’get so much money from the tooth fairy.” lorelai told you mater-of-factly.

“of course she is, lo.” chris agreed, smiling wide, making a mental note to slip matt a twenty before you all leave tonight.

“daddy, what’re all these words on the screen say?” lorelai asked, instantly changing the subject. she was looking at the monitor that displayed the twitch chat, all the comments coming through at a rapid pace.

“try’n read them, lo, show mommy how we’ve been practicing your reading.” matt told her, wrapping his arm around her tightly and planting a kiss to her head.

she leaned forward, squinting as she tried to read the words as they flashed on the screen. “oh! i see my name!” she exclaimed, looking up to her dad and pointing.

“yeah,” matt smiled, looking at the comments with her, “and look, there’s sissy’s name too, and mommy’s.” he told her, showing her the comments had their names in them.

the young girl giggled, grabbing her sisters arm to get her attention “look, stel, they saying your name!”

stella smiled, her face lighting up as she recognized the letters that spelled her name. her eyes squinted, seeing the chat began to say more words that were at a five-year old level and at a slower pace so they were able to read. “daddy! daddy! look! that one says cat!” she squealed, nearly falling off matt’s lap as she posted to the monitor.

“good job, baby.” matt smiled brightly, hugging both his girls tightly.

matt and his brothers continued to stream for about another hour before the girls began fussy, saying they were hungry. as he ended the stream, chris and nick came into matt’s bedroom to say goodbye to their nieces. they both wrapped the girls in bear hugs, chris even picking them both up and spinning them around, planting a large kiss on each of their cheeks.

“call me tomorrow morning when the tooth fairy comes,” he told stella, placing her back on the ground, “and lorelai, you call and tell me how much she brought your sister, got it?”

both the girls giggled and nodded, saying goodbye to nick and chris once more before joining you and matt in the living room as you made your way back to the car to head to you and matt’s shared apartment for the evening.

authors note: aaa first thing in the dad!matt au!!!! i’m so super excited for thisss. not sure how often i will update but whatever yall want for this i will try to deliver

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper @sturnifyed @freshlovie @imwetforyourmom @69isabella69 @mattsturnxoxo @stonermattsgf @mmay4ever @pettydollie @fawnchives @pr1ncessmatt @lanas-doll @55sturn @grimholic @livvy4realll @freshloveee @hollandsangel @mattspolitank @luverboychris @selenascorner @jetaimevous @sarosfilms @l34n

[milliumizoomi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐄...

☆彡SUMMARY.; Things I believe he would do in a relationship that you’d (us.. all of us..😭) would find attractive

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO ARETAS x READER

☆彡TROPE.; Established Relationship

☆彡FORMAT.; HEADCANON

☆彡GENRE.; FLUFF + SUGGESTION + A TINY BIT OF ANGST

☆彡WARNINGS.; mature language, mature actions, a lil bit of Armando’s toxicity shining thru, brief mentions of choking (not in like he’s gonna kill u type of way😭) brief mentions of violence, a little bit of spoilers ahead.

☆彡NOTES.; heyyyy thank u guys SAURRRR much for the love on the last Armando work I posted, I’m glad so many of yall liked it and I will continue to post and write about him 🫶🏽. (And yeah I took that picture on the middle so be free to save.. cause whew lord..). I hope you guys enjoy this one😛💕.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🫶🏽.

[IN PUBLIC]

✬ Armando would keep an eye on you, especially since he’s not a very trusting person to most

✬ He’s like very aware of the space you’re both in so he’d keep you at least within arms reach of him if it’s just a regular kind of day

✬ And he’d also do that thing where if he wants you to move, he’ll grab your waist and either shift you to where he wants you to do, or he’ll do that just to pass behind you

✬ And he a quiet person so instead of using many words, he just stares and expects you to know what he’s thinking

✬ If a situation arises where you’re doing something that he thinks you shouldn’t be doing, he’ll simply clear his throat and stare and he knows you should know what he’s thinking

✬ also this man has no filter whatsoever, so if you’re talking, it doesn’t even have to be to him, you could be taking to his dad or something and he’ll just blurt out some of the most insane stuff in either Spanish or English

✬ (like he did to that girl when he called her fine)

✬ like if you say “im so hot” on a day when it’s scorching outside he’d def say stuff like “I definitely agree” or some shit like that just to embarrass you

✬ He’d also stare at your lips while you’re talking to him, especially if you’re mad at him

✬ and openly stare at your body too

[ON CASES || MISSIONS]

✬ you don’t even have to be in a relationship for this one but just watching him fight

✬ Each movement of his is so effortless and he just looks good each and every time

✬ He’d also probably see you staring and raise an eyebrow at you and tell you to pay attention

✬ would tease you on missions definitely

✬ especially if it’s a mission together

✬ only a bit tho cause he’s very focused on missions

✬ makes you be his backpack on his motorcycle

✬ he’d adjust your hand to where he wants it when riding the motorcycle

✬ drives it with one hand and occasionally taps at your leg with the other

✬ and if he has time, he’ll teach you to fight like he does

[IN PRIVATE]

✬ in private he’s definitely an attitude fixer

✬ if you do something to piss him off he’ll probably just stop talking all together until you apologize

✬ when that happens tho he furrows and raises his eyebrows a lot while clenching his jaw as a way to not get too annoyed with you

✬ curses in Spanish a lottttt

✬ and when you’re being bratty or rude to him, he’ll literally grab you by the neck and bring you real close to his face then say in your ear “arregla tu actitud antes de que yo la arregle por ti..” (fix your attitude before i fix it for you..)

✬ ofc he’d do that in public too

✬ I feel like he’d be a bit clingy when alone because he doesn’t like pda, so he waits until it’s private and will literally grab all over you

✬ he cooks shirtless (idc it’s true and yes he can cook🤚🏽)

✬ has told you the most mundane every day things in the sexiest voice ever

✬whistles when you walk in a room

✬ and slaps your butt regularly (sue me ik he does🤚🏽)

✬if you’re sleeping in the same bed there’s only two places he’ll sleep, on your butt or on your stomach (no in between 🤷🏽‍♀️)

✬ uses that same condescending voice on you to tell you what to do, when you’re wrong, or to stop acting up

eugh I love him sm🥹

[venuscrashed]

Basically salt against the demon bros

Word count: 500 something

Warnings: Shit fic, Bad like REALLY bad writing, not proof read, just wanted to get something out

“Do you think it’ll work?” Mammon looked at you as you both stood in the kitchen. Salt in your hand, his hands on his hips.

“It has to,” you both looked down. It was normal, human salt that you stole from Solomon. Recently the brothers were shown a couple of horror movies and they used salt against the demons. It also didn’t help that a lot of ghost hunting games used the same technique. Mammon had the bright idea to try it and it was encouraged by Satan and Belphie for a joke against Lucifer.

Just as you were about to pour some salt lightning cracked and the whole room turned dark for a second. When the lights came on Lucifer stood next to the both of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed, sweat drops went down both of your faces before looking at him.

“H-hey Lucifer! How’s my favorite older bro?” Mammon took the salt and hid it behind his back. A bright smile on his face with shaking hands. It was plainly obvious that he was hiding something but he still thought he got away with it.

Lucifer’s menacing aura towered over the both of you. An eerie smile on face with closed eyes. Hand over his chest in his usual stance with a polite but bossy tone. Purple flames behind his back, “what are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” You both said in unison. You internally cringed at yourself for what you said but eventually you become alike after spending so much time together. Which only causing Lucifer to furrow his eyebrows with his finger. He looked at both of you. Eyeing the way Mammon's shoulders were shaking and how you avoided eye contact. With a sigh he placed out his open hand, motioning for the object.

Without a second thought you swiped the salt from Mammon's hands, he let out a gasp. You shoved the salt into Lucifer’s face but took it away before he could grab it. “It’s just salt. We were just going to see if it worked against you.”

“Yeah!” Mammon shouted but turned to look at you. Eyes wide and mouth open from the immediate betrayal. “Huh?”

“It probably won’t even do anything,” you said. Pouring the salt at Mammon's feet, creating a line. He tried to walk over it but found his foot wouldn’t move. Like it was trying to go through a wall. “Oh…Would you look at that!”

“Now wait a min-“ just as Lucifer started walking you poured salt at his feet again. Both brothers being stuck and unable to cross the barrier.

You just started laughing loudly. Looking at the salt with stars in your eyes. “This is the best thing in my life! I’m pouring it in front of my room!!”

From outside the kitchen the rest of the brothers started yelling. Arguing about it with Mammon yelling. Lucifer just stood there with his mouth open as he watched you run back to your room. Salt high above your head like a new god and happiness found.

[lucy90712]

Hey so for Jude Bellingham can you write like Jude cheating on reader, he is very distant with her and she tries to make plans or asks him things like how has ur day been but he either just gives her blunt replies or just completely ignores her. Reader finds out he cheated on her via his phone and she confronts him and she admits it. Then reader leaves him and moves on with someone else (not a footballer just someone random) and Jude regrets what he has done but it is too late. Like pure angst and please make it long! Thank you!

A/n: the timeline on this doesn’t really work but just ignore that

Sitting in a restaurant alone waiting for someone to show up is embarrassing. It's even more embarrassing when people know who your boyfriend is and are very clearly judging you and thinking about what might be going on in your personal life. Then the most embarrassing part of it all is having to leave after sitting there for an hour. 

No text no call and no answer. After getting home from the restaurant I stayed up for as long as possible to try and wait for Jude to come home so I could ask him why he didn't show up to the date he planned and invited me on but by 3am he still wasn't home. The next morning he wasn't in bed but he had clearly been home and then left for training but he still hadn't even read the texts I sent him last night. He did post on his Instagram story which explained where he was, he was at a party with all of his friends. I'd love to say that's the first time he's done this but it isn't in fact he's done it countless times in the last few months. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Valentine's Day

Two hours ago I got ready in a cute dress and did my makeup ready to go out to dinner with Jude. He's been so busy recently so we haven't spent much time together but he promised me we'd spend Valentine's Day together, he got us a reservation at my favourite restaurant and told me to dress up. That's exactly what I did now I'm sat here still waiting for him to get home two hours after when he said he'd be home. 

It hurts to be left just waiting I was looking forward to tonight and getting to spend some time together as I've missed having him around. He made this move to Madrid out to be the best thing for us but ever since things just haven't been the same. He's always busy and when he's not he chooses to spend time with his teammates instead which I understand but at the same time he's neglecting me and our relationship. I tried to bring this up but he shut me down and promised to spend more time with me which is how we ended up with this date but clearly it's not that important to him. 

Close to 3 hours later Jude finally came home and looked at me incredibly confused when he saw me all dressed up. 

"Where are you going?" He asked 

"On a date with you remember you said we would go out for dinner because it's Valentine's Day" I said 

"I'm so sorry baby I completely forgot this week has been crazy I promise I'll make it up to you another day but I'm so tired is a movie night instead ok" he said 

"Yeah its ok" I lied 

Birthday 

As always I woke up to an empty bed and Jude having left for training. Today isn't any normal day though it's my birthday so all my friends are coming over and we are going to go out for lunch together then hopefully Jude and I can do something together this evening even if it's just watching something together on the sofa. When I grabbed my phone from my bedside table I had loads of messages from friends and family wishing me a happy birthday and my social media was filled with edits done by Jude's fans which were all so sweet. The only notable missing thing was a text from Jude but that's ok he might've been running late and forgot. 

I forgot about Jude as soon as my friends arrived as they all spoiled me far too much but I had so much fun with them. It was nice to be distracted from real life and stop worrying about when Jude will be home, if he will remember it's my birthday or if he still cares about me at all. Once I got back home Jude's car was already in the driveway so I smiled and happily made my way inside to see him. I wasn't expecting Vini and Eduardo to be over but there they were sat on the sofa playing video games with Jude. 

"Hey y/n happy birthday" Vini said 

"I didn't realise it was your birthday Jude didn't mention it but happy birthday" Eduardo said 

"Thanks guys" I said 

"Where have you been babe?" Jude asked still not saying happy birthday 

"I was with my friends they took me to lunch" I said 

"That sounds fun" Jude said going right back to his game 

His friends tried to leave saying he should spend time with me but he said it was fine and that I wouldn't mind so they stayed. While they all sat down stairs having more fun than I was I did some work with tears streaming down my face. My own boyfriend doesn't care about my birthday his teammates cared more than he did. 

Anniversary 

"Happy anniversary love" I said when I found Jude in the kitchen this morning 

"Happy anniversary" he said 

I tried to give him a kiss but he dodged it and went to start packing his things as he has an away game later today so he's leaving soon. 

"I'm sorry baby I've got to go I'll see you later though" he said as he left leaving me all alone yet again 

~~~~~~~~~~

Today is a day I always like to forget. Both of my parents died in a car accident two years ago today so it's always an emotional day for me and my siblings, we would like to spend it together to distract ourselves but as I'm in Madrid we can't do that. Instead my friends invited themselves over so that I'd have someone with me which made me feel so much better. They came over early so early that Jude was still here as he hadn't left for training yet. He was doing his own thing as the girls all sat with me and let me get out all my emotions now by telling them memories I have with my parents. 

"You know they'd be so proud of you" one of my friends said 

"I just wish they were here to see all the things me and my siblings have done all thanks to their constant encouragement" I sniffled tears still falling down my face 

"Why are you crying babe?" Jude asked as he walked down the stairs 

"Just thinking about my parents it's the anniversary of their death so I'm just a bit emotional" I said 

"I'm glad the girls are here to make you feel better then I'll see you later ok" he said 

With that he left and my friends all looked at me with an expression I didn't quite understand.

"How long has he been like that?" My best friend asked 

"Like what" I questioned 

"Like you don't matter he didn't even hug you before he left even after you told him why you were upset which he should know anyway dates like this are important for partners to remember" she said 

"I mean it's been a good few months he missed our Valentine's Day dinner he didn't wish me a happy birthday until like 5pm and we didn't do anything on our anniversary" I said finally thinking about how badly he's been treating me

"Girl he doesn't deserve you he's taking you for granted and you don't deserve that" one of the girls said 

"I hate to say this but you need to break up with him clearly he's given up on your relationship and now I might be wrong but wrong but it seems to me like he's found someone else" another said

They were right for months now I've been at the bottom of his priority list and he's nowhere near the Jude I used to know and love. There is no affection there anymore it's like the love we once had is gone. He also has definitely been distant and he's never home so there is a possibility that he could be cheating on me. That's a thought that I'd put in the back of my mind and didn't want to think about but now that someone else that has mentioned it I can't let the thought go. Whether he's cheating or not things definitely aren't how they used to be and I need to get out of this relationship before it's too late. The girls all offered their support and said I can stay with them for as long as I need which gave me the confidence to actually talk to Jude later today. 

When Jude arrived home all the girls left and they wished me good luck which I definitely need as I'm nervous to actually have this conversation even though it needs to be done. Jude went straight to get in the shower so I decided to look at his phone because he told me the password but I have never used it as I trusted him at least until now. It took just seconds of looking for me to find texts between him and this one girl who he had clearly been seeing for months now. He kept saying he would break up with me but the time wasn't right yet and that he wasn't in love with me anymore which hurt to see. I wanted to cry but I held back my tears and instead just sent myself screenshots of everything and then deleted the evidence so he wouldn't know that I knew. 

After his shower Jude took ages to come back downstairs but when he finally did he was looking at his phone and smiling it made me wonder if he was talking to her the girl he'd apparently fallen for. He quickly noticed me staring at him and he just stared back not having a clue what was going on. 

"Jude we need to talk" I said 

"Oh ok is everything alright?" He asked 

"I'm just gong to say it I know what you've been doing and don't lie to me I have screenshots I just want to know when you fell out of love and why you did this instead of just ending things" I said barely holding back tears 

"I don't know it all just happened I'm sorry I should've handled this better I didn't want to hurt you but clearly I haven't done a good job of that" he said 

"Yeah you really have hurt me I should've known when you forgot about our valentines reservations but I was foolish and believed that you were just busy now I know you were with another girl" I said 

"I'm sorry" he said 

"I don't believe you Jude if you were sorry you wouldn't have let this go on for so long it's safe to say we are over I wish you well but please don't try and contact me again I need to just move on" I said 

With that I gathered my things and just left. I left my key, the memories and what felt like half my heart but it had to be done I had to get out of there before I got hurt any more. It's time to move on and start a new life with people around me who truly care about me. 

~~~~~~~~~~

1 year later 

"Come on amor let's go" Carlos called from downstairs 

"Coming" I said running down the stairs 

"Oh wow you look gorgeous" Carlos said 

"Thank you you look good too" I said 

He kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand so we could head out to the car that was outside to pick us up. Just a few days ago Carlos won the French open so we are going out to celebrate. I met Carlos not long after I broke up with Jude I wasn't even looking to date but I just happened to meet him on a night out with my friends and we just clicked. He understood that I wasn't ready to date properly but he didn't give up on me so when I was ready we went on a date and the rest is history. My plan definitely wasn't to date another athlete in fact I wanted to just have a normal life and date a normal guy but I couldn't just let Carlos go and I'm glad I didn't. We have been together officially for 6 months now and they have been the best 6 months of my life he always treats me right and he makes it known how much he loves me. 

Carlos has a lot of friends in Madrid so he decided to come here and celebrate his win with me and my friends as well as his before he goes back home to be with his family. There wasn't really any time to prepare anything so we are all just meeting at a club in town that isn't just open to the public so there shouldn't be lots of people there. All our friends were already there when we arrived as we got caught in a bit of traffic but they didn't seem to mind our lateness they congratulated Carlos on his win and we all went inside. 

As we walked down the stairs all my friends turned to me at once and I wondered what was going on for a second until I saw what they had seen. Jude was right there along with a few of his teammates. I haven't seen him since our breakup which is somewhat of a miracle seeing as I still live and work in Madrid and he has become part of the city. I knew one day we'd meet again I was just hoping it wouldn't be in a day like today I don't want to be thinking about him or to talk to him while celebrating Carlos as tonight shouldn't be about me or my past relationship. Carlos knows everything that happened so once he saw Jude his hand reached for mine and he gave it a comforting squeeze which made me feel a little bit better. The thing is I don't miss Jude at all I'm so much happier now but what he did still hurts me so seeing him for the first time since is a bit painful. 

"We can go somewhere else if you want" Carlos said 

"No it's ok tonight is your night plus he shouldn't affect my life now that's the past you are my present and future" I said 

"Ok as long as you're sure but you are sticking by my side all night" he said 

Jude's POV

"Is that y/n?" Vini asked 

Him saying that caught my attention so I looked in the same direction as him and there she was with all her friends and a guy by her side. I recognised the guy as Carlos Alcaraz the tennis player who just won the French open and a the guy y/n has been dating for at least the last few months. I found that out when late at night after we lost a big game I stalked her Instagram and saw a photo of them together on her private account that she forgot to remove me from. Since that night I have kept an eye on her Instagram I usually check it at least once a week to see what she's been doing and how happy she is without me. 

Since the night that she broke up with me I regretted making all the dumb choices I made that led to that point. Within days I broke things off with the other girl I was seeing and I have been alone ever since I just can't bring myself to see anyone else because they aren't y/n. It sounds stupid because I'm the one that ruined everything I'm the reason she's with Carlos and not me but she was the one I just didn't realise how much I loved her until she was gone. My mum has always told me not to take things for granted as once they are gone you'll realise their true value and that's exactly what I did with y/n I didn't realise just how important she was to me until I made some stupid decisions and let her go. 

I watched her with Carlos for a while and she seemed genuinely happy which made me realise that she hadn't been that happy with me for a long while before we broke up. It was clear to see that she loved him and I could tell that he loved her too because he looked at her the way I did when we first got together. It hurt to see her so happy with someone else because I know I could've had that but now I won't get to share any moment like that with her ever again. I deserve everything that has come to me I made bad choices and as much as I regret them now it won't change anything. 

I have to let her go because for her to be happy I need to not be in her life as much as that hurts. They say if you love her let her go and that's what I need to do let the one go because as much as she might've been the one for me I'm not the one for her. 

[koiir]

꒰͡ ⠀ ׂ YOU CLING TO YOUR PAPERS AND PENS, WAIT UNTIL YOU LIKE ME AGAIN ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

Synopsis; After the end of another winning game, sae itoshi takes notice of who is interviewing his opposing team. The person who he broke the heart of when in Spain, so why is he growing jealous when he sees you with another man in spite of his rejection?

sae itoshi x fem!reader

Notes. Reader is a sports journalist . angst to fluff/comfort . Asshole Sae? . Reader wears a dress . Aged up characters . Jealous sae . Classic bad itoshi communication . 3.6wc

Itoshi sae doesn’t halt when it comes to his career, unlike many he isn’t easily tempted nor willing to take time for himself. Football being the core of his life, so when he’s in Spain with a three month break, his mind is lost.

“Seriously, stop working sae. You’re good enough as is.”

Lukewarm, his mind repeats. His determination grows more as he sees another football league near, his mind curious as he jogs over to the area keeping a mindful distance.

Some continue playing, some rest, and some…are being interviewed?

His eyes run through the person who writes down in a notepad, eyes focused as you gaze into the player as he speaks. Sae takes in your appearance, it’s casual for the most part. Though still professional enough to make you seem accountable.

It’s over before he knows it, and he feels like a stalker since you’re now walking back to your car before you spot him. Your eyes meet his, and you immediately know who he is.

“Sae itoshi?”

The tone of your tongue has him in a chokehold, it’s idiotic. He clicks his tongue, not saying anything before nodding.

“…I’m assuming you must be on a break after that successful season right?”

“Yeah, though I’m still continuing my training.”

You nod, you didn’t expect anything less from the workaholic the itoshi has been known for. The atmosphere in warms due to the geography, though there lingers another feel that you can’t exactly capture. He feels it too.

“Well, work hard and don’t over do it! I just might interview you one day!”

Sae nods, he takes into notice the bag of yours that sags down. Most likely to all of the work material held in it. He sees you shuffle, starting to turn around before he calls out to you.

“What’s your name?”

Your head looks back, chirping out an answer.

“Y/N L/N.”

He’s heard your name before, from others in the industry. As you wave goodbye, sae ends his workout for the day and heads back to his apartment.

He ends up reading through most of your works to fill in his gap of time.

The last thing Sae expects is seeing you again, will all of his teammates present this time.

When he was told of the email sent by his manager, Sae for the most part did not care. Not until the mention of a journalist was brought up.

He tells himself he is not getting nervous, it’s just the adrenaline in him for seeing his teammates again. Thus, he is not nervous.

When greetings are done and explanations are given, Sae feels a shift in his mind. But he doesn’t know what to think of it. He can’t be nervous, can he?

When his turn is up, his fist bawl together as you approach him.

“Seems like it’s fate.”

“Fate?”

“Yeah! Remember? When I said I would interview you some day.”

He very much remembers, Sae doesn’t know why he keeps thinking about the interaction you two had. It was three weeks ago, almost four now. Silently, and still not knowing it, but the itoshi is glad you could interview him.

To your surprise, you pull out a generous amount of information from Sae. The player usually is known for his little if at all, acknowledgment to journalists. But seems you hit the jackpot with this one.

His teammates and even assistant are astounded by his willingness to talk and answer your questions with full truth. They tease the man for his change of heart.

It’s short spent time, the interview being wrapped up and his teammates are all huddled together. But sae keeps his distance, his figure itching to move. To you. You’re about to leave with your manager before once again, you’re halted by Sae Itoshi.

“Can you give me your number?”

The blunt truth is given, and your face reveals your shock by the said action. Saw blinks, but this overwhelming feeling overcomes him again as he stares at you.

When he reaches his apartment, he now has a new number in his contacts.

The weather in Spain is unbearable, that’s what Sae hears your mouth ramble about almost nonstop when he’s with you.

How many months has it been? It feels short, though 6 months have passed since the friendship between you and the player arose. It was slow for the itoshi to warm up to you, but no matter what he kept close.

The highlights for him that have changed him are many, in your friendship he means. He’s not one to keep close ties with many, solace one he wishes to keep.

Three months into this newfound bond, Sae thinks as though his mind has been altered when he saw you tending to a stray. The cat hungry and meowing nonstop, until it was graced by the food you had.

Usually he himself wouldn’t pay mind to a stray, most likely not even noticing, but he doesn’t tell you how that small action has changed him. Now when he sees a stray, he lets a scrap of food fall towards the animal.

It’s as if he subconsciously chooses to, having a slice of hope that it might pull your closer to him.

When a week of straight work was jammed into your schedule, you couldn’t talk much with the itoshi. His eyes darting to his home screen seeing no reply from you, an irk appears on his forehead.

You invite him to a cafe. Telling him that he doesn’t have to come, since you most likely won’t chat with him as you work away.

“Then why bother asking?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad that you’re waiting for me to reply or be done.”

For once, Sae hears from another about how impatient he is, but you don’t say those exact words. Just sparking at the implication.

Contrast to his words, the day of he walks into the cafe eyeing the table you sit at. You’re working as diligently as ever, it’s almost a direct copy of himself when he’s immersed in a match or practice.

His cup is being destroyed, his hands gripping the poor cup as his foot taps the ground. He really is inpatient. He’s never noticed up until now, or has but just doesn’t dare to admit it. Especially since you’re the one getting the rise out of him.

You haven’t said much, as he expected. But he wishes to hear your voice maybe, but that wish will only lead him to disappointment. He’s at least somewhat satisfied, your presence being a bonus he thinks.

Sae grows curious, more so about and how his mind works whenever he’s basked in your presence. It’s unsettling, new for him.

So his mind wonders the possibility of his whirlwind of emotions, he thinks. Very deeply. But nothing pops up.

Maybe soon he’ll understand.

“So, what’s up with you?”

The irritation in Sae only grows more as he hears the voice of shidou, his palms clenching around his products that are daring to spill out if he continues.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He’s been off, more so than usual. Just two weeks ago it’s been no contact, and he hasn’t been the best since. His plays are still good, that much hasn’t been affected. Though everything else screams different about Sae.

Those three words tick in his brain.

“I like you.”

He made you repeat them, the logic in his mind being gone in a flash as he deals with a situation that he can’t control.

He’s too quick witted for his own good, he did the worst thing he possibly could.

“Why would I feel the same?”

“You’re only going to get in my way.”

“Why would I waste my time on you?”

Yeah, Sae itoshi is only a mouthful of daunting words. But he’s not all that bad, he knows the worth in his words. And he they have broken your heart. He knows that this is on him, because why say such words if his heart opposes?

It’s a sea of void and uncertainty, waves crash and a storm can be made by a simple act. Somehow Sae feels as though he was the storm that caused the crash. It collapsed so fast and quick, can he even repair such a thing?

An emotion of love is wicked, it’s a whirlwind that surges through the person and Sae doesn’t like it. He doesn’t accept it. Involving yourself into a relationship only weakens the rest of you, so why risk it when he’s gotten to the golden age of his career?

He can be selfish, but this need is different. As if he desires it more than he thinks.

“God dammit.”

“Woahhhh someone’s mad.”

“I fucked up.”

The night of, Sae lets the newfound realization pull him deep. Though he can’t find it in himself to act on it, Sae itoshi can’t pursue this.

It takes months until he actually grows the courage to admit himself to the truth and be honest.

“You’re too sweet you know?”

“Oh, stop it.”

The uproar of the crowd is still raging strong, his thoughts and heart race only intensify as he glares at the opponent he faced.

It’s not like he lost against the other male, by game terms no. He was victorious this match, but that mindset shattered the minute he saw him getting interviewed by you.

He noticed you at the beginning of the match, and the deep voice in him told him to not look at you, to keep his eyes off of you and focus.

The adrenaline and rush in him must be due to the game, the thought of crushing the opposing team. Although his heart tells him otherwise. The thought of you watching him overwhelms him in a way that makes him score three goals.

Why must you impose such a huge impact on him?

It’s sickening, it’s pure torture to not walk up to you as if everything is normal. Or how the past once was.

You must be avoiding him, because multiple others are dying to report him but his answers are little to none. They aren’t the ones who can spew answers out of him, you are.

“Why’d you tell me such so much when you usually make comments so vague?”

“Because you’re not like the rest.”

“Huh?”

“Whatever.”

He watches your every move, and sae knows the player is getting every chance to butter you up. A flirt alright, and you play back with charm. It’s natural for at most, in order to show a genuine connection. Though to Sae, it has his mind in a fury as he’s a bystander watching the interaction.

“Stop glaring at your ex like that.”

He’s slapped on the shoulder by Aiku, the irk on his forehead grows as he mumbles out an insult to the male and shifts away from him.

It’s almost a relief, the mention of you being his “ex.” Because no, you aren’t. All that it was is you liked you, and he rejected that.

Now he knows how much of a fool he was, he rejected the idea. Not you. To many, that ideal is a stupid one. But in the moment, it was a valid point that made his decision come about.

He’s really an idiot, because he should have at least asked to stay in contact. But maybe his ego got to him, making him believe he was in the right. All those months without you just proved him wrong.

He watches you, and sees a man come closer to you. His attire is casual but formal, similar to yours in all black as he calls out to you. You beam a smile at him and sae feels his nerve break.

It’s in the way he laughs with you that makes Sae’s body turn cold.

He can tell the two of you are close, body language clearly showing a sense of ease and clarity for trust in the other. He feels the need to pull you away, Sae feels the grow of something in his throat, a grimace overtakes him.

The fixation on you keeps him unclear from the way you notice his stare, your eyes meet his and the gleam in them disappear in an instant.

He looks away, keeping his distance from anything and everything as a way to collect himself, he still has to deal with the after party for the game.

He wonders if you will be there.

It’s a ruckus, something Sae doesn’t wish to deal with today. The day has seemed long enough as is, though a ting of curiosity was infiltrated in his brain. It eats him alive, it’s only a couple hours of his night gone to drinks and a nuisance of people.

Besides, shidou does a perfectly well job enough keeping him entertained.

“Ooo, you might wanna see who came.”

Sae takes in the way shidou’s tone is one of tease and playfulness, it gets under his skin but he has an idea of what he could mean. Or who he meant.

The lighting doesn’t seem to work on you, cause Sae can still see the glow you carry as you enter in. He’s in a trance, because for the first time he’s seeing you all done up rather than in casual attire which still looked good on you. Clothes only being an accessory that showcased your true beauty.

He sees you wore a black velvet strapless gown that held a slit, it’s clear that it will draw some eyes. And his are one of them.

His desire for you grows strong, and now he allows himself to comprehend that need. No longer trying to sugarcoat the problem that has set him in a trance.

It shatters though when he sees who walks in with you, the same guy from the game who whisked you away. Most likely a coworker, but why does he stare at you with so much adoration?

“Woah chill, you look like you’re about to explode.”

The remark has him lift his fist, showing shidou the growing angry in him if he doesn’t keep quiet. Sae knows that now, he’s doomed for an unrelenting amount of jealousy.

It’s tempting, to say something unforgettable to the male at your side. Though he doesn’t wish to sour his reputation even more with you, he already broke your heart.

What place does he have to interfere?

It’s not as though you’re paying him any mind.

Despite the thought, it doesn’t last long the minute he sees the contact of his hand on your back. Keeping you at bay from all the commotion inside. The filter on his will breaks, his body uncontrollably stands to his feet as he turns a heel.

But a force of fault keeps him still, it’s as though his heart is keeping him from moving. From you. It’s seconds of contemplating as he watches, the itch in his body beings to grow as he sees you leave.

His fear of this potentially being the last time he sees you sets in. Who knows when you two will even be in the same proximity again.

“What are you doing sae!!! Go get her!!”

“Keep your mouth shut.”

Still, by contrast Sae has his figure swing by others in order to meet yours, it’s a distance worth the call outs that he ignores. Their voices cancel out to the point he has to reach.

His presence hits hard, the male at your side turning his attention to sae that waste no time in grabbing your hand. Your yelp one of surprise before your mouth trembles.

“Sae?”

☆⌒.*･

The task to drag you outside was one he expected with bickering, though you kept quiet as his hand was holding yours. The contact enough to make his ears red.

“Are you going to explain this?”

He hears your voice come out In a tone that reminds him too much of himself. And he immediately thinks there’s a big chance you’ll leave without him saying anything.

He’s quick to open open his mouth, preparing to speak, until he notices how close your face is to his. It’s cliche, the concept of “took my breath away” when referring to someone. Maybe he can understand it now.

Your lips are placed into a thin line, making him wonder if that smile of yours earlier was just in his head. But still, the patter of his heart, the warmth spreading through him, it tells him the truth about your smile.

“Who is he?”

“That’s your first question?”

Yes, because that’s all that has been occupied in Sae’s brain. Consuming his every nerve and eating away at his heart. This is the first thing he has to know.

A line caresses your forehead as your hands ball into a fist. You’re getting worked up. He knows it, because why you must wonder “why is he doing this?”

“He’s a coworker along side me. Joshua.”

“Well he seems like he has an eye for you.”

The words are blunt and enough to set you off, it makes you wonder just why does he wish to know so much? You two aren’t friends.

Does he not recall that day? The day his words were a statement of, “I don’t want you.” The words spilling out until you told him, “I get it.”

Because he truly had no reason to tell you every reason on his list why he would ever think about dating you. A simple rejection would have done the trick, not nights of tears and insecurities growing.

“And why is this your concern? We’re not friends.”

It stings, a sharp ache growing in him makes his eye widen. He doesn’t know why that caught him off guard so much. The cold tone? The words reminding him of his from then? The reality sinking in? It’s a shame on your end, that you haven’t left yet. He doesn’t know why you even stay, but he knows he still has time.

“I’m an idiot yeah?”

The self proclaimed question raises your brow, a smile comes to your face before it falls.

“Yes? Why do you need me to state it for you?”

“Because I’m just now realizing how stupid I was for being in denial.”

His sentence is vague, he doesn’t have it in him to say the rest. You take a moment to think, but the only situation he can be referring to is the rejection of yours. Were the words said in spite of his denial?

“Seems I don’t understand, you tell me since you started this.”

He wants to fight back, but he knows it would only be a matter of time before you can handle his attitude towards this. Admitting his wrongs, being truthful to what he wants.

“I don’t mean the words I said.”

If anything, I wanted you more than anything.

“Then why did you have so much to say? You told me to my face that I would only drag you down.”

He halts, because the words were nasty and harsh. He basically lashed out on you, his rebuttal to this has to prove it. That he reciprocates and is wanting to fix what he has damaged.

“I don’t know how to deal with my feelings, and I’m career driven. The idea of a relationship screams disaster to me and I was just in the mindset of, why change something already good?”

The aspect of your friendship with him was a change, though it doesn’t compare to that of a relationship. The idea of having you hanging, having days or weeks without seeing you, he didn’t see the need to hurt you because he thought that would be the outcome.

He never considered that it could be a beautiful change for the better, even with the challenges facing it. He copes with the fact that you’re going to be disappointed, but he might as well try.

“So you thought that pushing me away was for the best? Not even telling me about your feelings truthfully and just lashing out?”

He nods, his mind blank for a way to justify himself. But he can’t. He starts to feel desperate, and for once his mind is coming to terms with the idea of his loss.

“I’ve never bothered to speak of my feelings, in regards with things such as this. Because I don’t know how to or what I can do.

“Well, if you can’t figure out a way to prove yourself, I’m just going to leave.”

Your words are a challenge, because Sae knows you will make your leave if he doesn’t let his heart speak for itself. The act of words will be repeated, and he’s going to mess up what he truly means if he keeps this up.

His hand moves voluntarily to your wrist, pulling your closer with an arm wrapping around your waist. The hitch in your breath comes out, before your lips are sealed away by his.

It’s soft, the idea that Sae can be soft is one that seems fake. Far from reach, but it’s being presented to you right now as he deepens the kiss with a tinge of fear that you might leave.

You can’t, and you won’t leave. Your heart wins the battle of sorrow as you think that you understand what he means. His act of choice telling you enough, that he wants this.

“Please, l can wait for your love, all I need is a chance.”

His face remains almost stoic, but with how close he is, you see the soften in his eyes as his cheeks tint pink.

“Don’t be an idiot and try. Change.”

He knows what you mean by change, not change himself completely, but change his behavior to this new feeling. He can do that, with time. It’ll be worth it, if he can experience the sensation of this love his heart has.

“Promise.”

A kiss sealed, and the event forgotten. For once he sees the good in coming to this one.

a/n; we can’t be friends, but I’d like to just pre tend, you cling to your paperss and penss wait until you likeee mee again

[mikedfaist]

thinking about mike and reader doing a q&a after a screening of a film they did together (maybe it’s in columbus, the theater I go to is in columbus and always has special screenings and q&a’s) and them not only being so articulate and passionate about their film but also silly and very in love even though they’re trying to be subtle (they’re not)

Put the two of them in a room together, let alone sitting side by side, and you are in for a treat.

The film is a love story about two strangers who cross paths for only a brief moment. The director talks about working with the two of them – and years after the fact once the relationship has come out – that she was merely a spectator for their own love story. She got to watch the two of them fall in love in front of the camera, and that’s what makes the film so special. They aren’t just playing their characters; they are the characters.

Most, if not all, of the dialogue in the film is adlibbed, and so the scene where Mike’s character tells her, “Whatever you want from me—I don’t care what it is, I just want to be yours,” that was coming from him. The two of them met on the first day of set, having it been kept a secret she was even a part of the film as to not instigate rumors. He recalls spotting her standing outside of her trailer, adorned in oversized sweatpants and stained UGG boots, smoking a cigarette over a cup of coffee.

“I’m quitting,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I must’ve slept through those D.A.R.E. lectures in school.”

One of the big talking points of the film – primarily with the fans – are the sex scenes. There is one scene in particular that depicts him spitting in her mouth, and then a panned out shot of him going down on her. It’s a little graphic, but the girlies love it.

She does most of the talking, describing mornings on set where Mike would bring her coffee, and the little games they would make up to pass the time. She recounts a day where Mike tackled her on the beach while playing Get Down Mr. President, and he had to cover his smile with his microphone. She also relates back to filming the intimate scenes with Mike.

“I remember when we were preparing for those scenes, he was very vocal about what I was and wasn’t comfortable with, because it’s very unscripted what we do, so communication is like massive. We also had a very lovely Intimacy Coordinator, Lynn, on set who was incredible in what she did. We’d go into these scenes and whatever happened, happened. The spitting scene—” This is where the crowd got a little noisy. “Yeah, I know…” She laughs awkwardly. “The spitting scene was something we discussed beforehand. It was like…okay, what can we do to make this a little more…” She showcases her exuberance with jazz hands. “And it worked, right?”

“I think what was so special about making this film was having such an incredible partner by my side.” She turns to look at Mike, who, again, covers his smile with his microphone. “I already got him blushing.” She gently knocks her foot into his. “I really don’t think I could have given the performance I did if it wasn’t for him. He really is just so amazing, and lovely, and just an overall remarkable person. He makes it hard not to fall in love with him.”

“One thing for me,” Mike begins. “I remember the first morning on set, and we were in hair and makeup, and she looks over at me from her chair and she’s got her hair all done back, and those undereye masks on, and she turns to me and says, ‘It’s such an honor to love you, even if it’s for a short time’, so I don’t know what she means by it’s not hard to fall in love with me, when she’s spitting out actual poetry at 6 in the morning.”

She covers her face with her hand, shaking it slightly. “I must’ve watched The Notebook the night before or something.”

One of the questions they are asked was individually, what were their favorite things to film.

Her: The bar scene where I sing karaoke… I loved that. I think we did like five different takes with five different songs. Also, the pier scene where we share a funnel cake, that was a good day. It’s always a good day when there’s a funnel cake.

Him: I was going to say the funnel cake… Uh, probably the beach scene when we are playing in the water. It was fucking cold though.

Question: What made you decide to take on this project?

Her: I loved the authenticity of it. You have these two lost people who find this safe haven in each other. It’s a love story but without that happy ending. There is no closure, but such is life. I loved how there wasn’t a dialogue script, because we really got to make our characters our own. We put a lot of ourselves in these characters, and it felt very genuine. They really do love each other, even in that short time.

Every time she speaks, Mike is sitting there with heart eyes. He absorbs everything she says. Fans in the audience mentioned that he was engulfed in her stories, and how when he would chime in with comments, she’d engage and beam right back at him. There wasn’t a moment where they weren’t smiling at each other. She at one point reaches over to squeeze his hand, and if you count, she stayed there for just a second too long.

Afterwards, some lucky fans said they saw them backstage share a long, drawn-out hug, where she rested her head in the crevice of his shoulder and neck, and he was rubbing her back. When they parted, he rubbed her shoulders and you can see her nod at something he says, before he kisses her forehead, and then part.

Some say, at first, they were bummed by what felt like an unfinished ending to the film but were quick to change their mind seeing her and Mike very much in love on stage. They are the happy ending.

[morallyinept]

Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 19

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 7.3k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Frankie takes a brave step and Jude suspects Frankie is keeping something from her. Chapter contains smut.

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapter 18

Before the crash…

“Hola, hermanita. (Little sister) Hey. I need to talk to you. It's... important. Yeah, I'm okay. Well, kinda. I just... I just found out I'm pregnant… Ya sé, noticias grandes. (I know, big news) Yeah, I’m positive… It's positive! There are two lines, I’m staring right at it now…

"Shit, I don’t know what to do. Dios mío, no sé qué hacer. (God help me, I don’t know what to do) I just… Yeah. I know… I... I don't think now is the right time to tell him. Things have been so strained between us lately. I don’t even know if we… if we’re going to make it… No, I know it’s stupid, but I just feel… I’m losing him… No, I am. He-He’s not been the same since the overdose, and I-I don’t know if I can go through that again… I don’t think I could bring a baby into that situation either, right?

"I just don't know how he'll react. What if he doesn't want this? What if he leaves?... Maybe it would be too much for him, right? He needs to get better and a baby would just mess all that up!… I'm so scared, what do I do, hermanita?... Yeah, I know I have options, but, I can’t- that’s not… wait. Listen, I have to go. He's just got home. I'll call you later, okay? Kiss abuela for me...” (grandma)

Carla ends the call and quickly slips her phone into her pocket, standing up. She glances her weary and pallid reflection in the mirror and wipes under her mascara heavy eyes.

She can hear Frankie in the kitchen and pauses at the bathroom door, taking a deep breath in. 

She can still smell it as she breathes, the harsh, sterile smell of hospital disinfectant. Can hear the steady beep of the heart monitor pulse in her ears, a rhythmic reminder of his fragile state.

She tries not to see it but it barges its way in, haunting her all over again. 

Frankie lying unconscious, his face pale and gaunt, a stark contrast to the vibrant man she’d once known and fallen in love with. She reaches out, her fingers gently brushing against his hand, cold and unresponsive.

Tears well up in her eyes as she takes in the sight of him, hooked up to tubes and machines. It’s a scene she’d dreaded, one that she’d feared might become a reality ever since she’d learned about his struggle with addiction. But seeing it, the reality was more crushing than she could’ve imagined.

She’d been at work when she received the call from Will. The rush to the hospital, the panic, the fear - it all felt like a blur now. 

But the image of him, lying motionless on that bed, was seared into her mind forever. Carla had thought they were making progress, that he was getting better. But the overdose had shattered that illusion, bringing her crashing back to the harsh reality of his addiction - he would never get better, not really. Sure, there would be bouts of time where he would be sober, but that fear of him relapsing would always be there. A shadow lingering behind her back waiting. 

How could she bring a baby into that chaos? How could she raise a child when the father was fighting a battle that could end in a quick moment? 

“Estoy en la cocina," (I’m in the kitchen) Frankie calls up, his voice carrying up the stairs.

She can feel the distance between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. The weight of her discovery presses down on her, but she pushes it aside, hiding the test and focusing on the moment at hand. 

Whatever happens next, Carla’ll face it - she has to.

Present day…

He’s been standing there for what feels like hours, gathering the courage to move forward.

The air is thick with the scents of an early summer - saltwater from the nearby Gulf, blooming magnolias, and the faint tang of spiced seafood that consummates in the Floridian air - but to Frankie, it carries an undercurrent of fear and regret.

The small house, with its open windows, cracked awning and the heavy silence from inside, seems to pulse with a heartbeat that mirrors his own anxious rhythm.

His heart is racing and palms feel slick with sweat. The sun casts a warm glow over the neighbourhood, but Frankie only feels the cold bite of anxiety.

The island has stripped him to his core, forcing him to confront his darkest fears and deepest cravings. Yet the challenges of survival seem minor compared to the emotional ordeal he’s about to face.

The world around him seems to blur, the house and suburban street dissolving into a stark, unforgiving landscape. Finding himself back on the island, the relentless sun beating down on him, the smell of salt and decay in the air, he sees himself at his lowest, shaking and sweating as the need for cocaine claws voraciously at his mind.

The sunlight casts clear, sharp shadows that seem to dance and mock his hesitation. He takes a deep breath, feeling the warm air fill his cracked lungs, and forces his feet to move.

He climbs the tiny, singular step up to the door, a mountain that seems impossible to peak, yet fighting the battle against the urge to turn and run. 

Frankie raises his hand to knock but freezes, his fist inches from the wood. He lowers his hand and stares at the swirling grain, feeling the crushing weight of his doubts. The sunlight seems to swamp closer, the whispers growing louder.

He closes his eyes, summoning the strength he’d found on the island, the resilience that had kept him alive. He drifts to Jude, her unwavering support, and the love they’d discovered amidst the chaos. He thinks of how she’ll take this news, her face twisting into bitter disappointment.

He thinks of the promise he’d made to be a better man. But not even Jude's strength could protect her from the island's cruel whims. He remembers the day she lost their baby, an event that shattered them both and still continues to do so in some twisted way, giving him a chance at parenthood when it was ripped from her. The grief and helplessness had been overwhelming, a pain deeper than any he’d ever known.

Frankie clenches his fists, digging his blunt nails into his palms until the sharp pain grounds him in the present. He can't afford to be weak, not now. 

With a final, resolute breath, Frankie knocks on the door. The sound deafening on a quiet day. The seconds stretch into an eternity. Then, the door creaks open, fluttery eyelashes greet him and that familiar tinny jangle from her wrist fills his ears. 

“Hey,” he all but croaks. 

“Es bueno verte de nuevo." (It’s good to see you again.) Carla smiles thinly. 

A small crook of his lips under the shadow of his cap convinces her of the same, as she steps aside, the scent of him flouts itself so uncouthly as he passes her. 

Her expression is a mix of surprise and guarded hope, and despite the small amount of time that’s passed them - what’s in a year? - she looks worn and tired around her almond eyes that used to be buoyant and keep him afloat. 

“We’ll need to be quiet, he’s sleeping,” she murmurs as Frankie follows her to the kitchen, pausing momentarily to glance upward at the stairs. 

“You want some coffee?” She asks casually as he sets himself down at the table. 

“Uh, yeah.” He says, as he spies piles of folded baby clothes in a basket on the floor by the dryer. 

His fingers wrap around a warm cup of coffee and Carla sits across from him, her hands cradling her own mug, her eyes studying him with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

The silence between them is palpable, punctuated only by the distant hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the house settling. Frankie's gaze drifts to the ceiling, imagining the tiny form of his child asleep up there.

The thought sends a shiver down his spine, a potent mix of fear and anticipation as it bottoms out in his gut. 

Frankie takes a tentative sip of his coffee, the bitter warmth grounding him momentarily as it scalds his lips. He glances at Carla, noticing the subtle changes in her face - the faint lines of worry and the traces of sleepless nights scattered purple and weary in her sockets.

He wants to ask her so many things, to understand what she’s gone through in his absence, but the words feel trapped in his throat, heavy and cumbersome to swallow down or bring up. He wants to ask her the whys and hows, but he knows it’s fruitless. The stark reality is here and he has to face it head on, whether he likes it or not. 

"How’ve you been?" Carla finally breaks the silence, her voice gentle but probing. 

Frankie hesitates, searching for an honest answer. "It's been... hard," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Of course it has, shit. Lo siento, that was stupid. I can't even imagine," she says, her eyes reflecting a deep empathy. (I’m sorry)

He looks down at his hands, the coffee cup trembling slightly in them. The ripples in the dark liquid remind him of the waves that had battered the island's shores, each one a reminder of nature's unyielding power and him being nothing but a slave to it.

The rhythmic crash of the waves echo in his mind. The sensation of being adrift, caught between the past and the present, consumes him for a few moments.

He sees Jude, her face etched with pain, as they bury their hopes and dreams in the sand. The ocean had seemed both a barrier and a saviour, holding them captive, yet offering a taunting promise of escape.

Frankie can feel the rough texture of the island's ground beneath the hardened-over skin on the balls of his feet, and smell the brine in the air. The tremor in his hands grows stronger, the coffee sloshing precariously close to the rim of the cup.

"Are you okay?" Carla’s voice cuts through the fog of his thoughts, pulling him back to the shores of the present.

She reaches out, placing her hand tentatively over his, steadying the trembling cup. 

"I'm... I'm fine. How are you? I mean, how-”

She sighs and settles back into her chair, taking the once familiar and comforting touch with her. “I was planning on telling you, but… we ended, and then the plane and-”

“Yeah.” Frankie nods, averting his gaze.

“I just couldn’t believe it when Benny told me you called him. That you were alive.”

“I still can’t believe it myself.” He runs his hand around his neck, feeling the ribbing of the scars that mottle there. It’s all too real and visceral. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He closes his eyes, but the darkness behind his eyelids only intensifies the sensation.

He sees the plane crash in vivid detail - relives through the moment of impact, the chaos, the feeling of helplessness as he struggled for breath in the water.

“Can we talk about… the baby?” He says, hesitating. 

Caral nods and begins to tell him everything. How it had been a week since she and Frankie had broken up, a painful but necessary decision given his ongoing struggles with addiction, and the fact he was adamant it was over, even if she would’ve fought for him.

She was pleased he was getting help and had Eddie to guide him, but he was still pulling away. She was trying to move on, to rebuild her life piece by piece without him, moving in with her sister across town.

A news alert had popped up on her screen on that fateful day: Plane Missing Over the Pacific. She’d skimmed the headline, feeling a pang of sadness for the people involved but not thinking much of it. Plane crashes were tragic, but they were also rare, distant events - stories that happened to other people.

She’d put her phone down and went about her day, trying to keep herself busy and weighing up her options about the pregnancy the more she discussed it with her sister. As much as she didn’t want to consider it, her mind swayed into confusing and guilt heavy thoughts of a possible termination. 

It wasn't until late afternoon that her phone had rung. The caller ID showed it was Will, one of Frankie's closest friends, or at least before he’d pushed them all away. She’d hesitated for a moment before answering, a knot forming in her stomach. Perhaps he was calling because he’d heard about the split. But then as he spoke down the line, Carla’s world had stopped turning.

The kitchen seemed to spin around her, and she’d gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. She doesn't remember much after that. The hours and days, and soon months that followed Frankie’s disappearance were a blur of emotions - fear, hope, guilt, and overwhelming sorrow.

Each passing minute that Frankie was gone and wasn’t coming back, felt like an eternity. She’d thought about their last conversation, the pain and frustration that had driven them apart. She’d hoped that some time apart would help Frankie find his way back to sobriety - and to her - but the longer time wedged itself in, she feared that time had finally run out. The thought of him out there, somewhere, possibly hurt or indeed dead, was unbearable. 

She hadn't told him about the pregnancy, unsure if it was the right thing to do, but then her mind had been made up after the funeral - she’d raise their son alone, a last connection to Frankie and allow him to live on, for everyone that would miss him. 

His addiction had always been a constant shadow over their relationship, and Frankie feels the grip of culpability as he thinks about the pain he’s caused her as she speaks. She’d stood by him, supporting him even when things seemed hopeless.

Carla had loved him deeply, but his demons had often gotten in the way. He realises how much she’s endured, and it makes him admire her even more. She’s strong, resilient, and compassionate - qualities that had drawn him to her sparkle in the first place.

"Carla. I'm so sorry for everything," Frankie says, his voice trembling. "I-I know I messed up before, but I wanna make things right.”

Carla’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "Francisco,” she only uses his full name when she’s serious, he notes, “the fact that you're here, willing to try, means more than you know. I know you’ve been through a lot, and I know this has come as a shock. No es así como quería que esto fuera. But we'll take it one step at a time. He’s your son, and he deserves to know his father." (It’s not how I wanted this to go)

Frankie nods, feeling a tendril of hope unfurl from a tight bud somewhere inside of him.

“But…” Carla begins, “you have to stay clean. That’s the condition. You can spend as much time with him as you want, I won’t get in the way of that. But if you can’t… then you won’t be allowed to-”

“I know.” Frankie swallows thickly and holds her eyes. “I won’t let him down.”

And he believes those words as they crawl out from under his tongue. He wants to believe them so badly. The feeling of worry is an opaque heavy fog, seeping into every corner of his consciousness. It’s a weight pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Carla nods, picking up her mug. His thoughts drift, unfocused and chaotic. Images of the past few months playing out in a disjointed sequence - Jude’s face etched with concern, the eerie quiet of the island at night, the baby boy he has yet to meet.

“Can I see him?” The words feel alien as they pour out of his mouth. 

“Are you ready for that?” Carla asks, scrutinising him carefully.

“Honestly, no.” Frankie takes off his cap and runs his hand through his mussed curls.

She remembers the feel of them, sliding through her own digits once upon a time.

“I’m fuckin’ terrified.” He admits timidly as he puts his trusty cap back on his head. “I just... I want to be a good father," he confesses, his voice tinged with bubbling emotion. 

“You're not alone in this, Frankie," she says, firmly.

"Gracias," he murmurs sincerely. "For giving me a chance. I know I don’t deserve it, especially from you.”

"I loved you Frankie, it is what is, I guess."

She wipes her eyes and looks away momentarily. They sit in silence, the weight of their conversation hanging between them until she looks at him again and smiles softly. 

“Come on.” Carla sways as she stands. 

Frankie’s gaze falls upon the crib, where his baby boy lays asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath.

Frankie's breath catches in his throat, and he feels a rush of emotions he can't quite name. The baby is perfect. Fine wisps of dark hair crowns his head, and his chubby cheeks are flushed with the warmth of sleep. Frankie approaches the crib hesitantly, his hands trembling uncontrollably. 

“It’s okay,” Carla whispers, encouraging him. “He’ll sleep through anything.” 

He leans over the crib, watching his son with wide, tear-filled eyes. The baby's tiny hands are curled into soft fists, and his mouth moves slightly as he dreams.

Frankie marvels at the delicate features, the smallness and fragility of him. He feels an almost physical ache in his chest, a swell of something so intense it’s almost painful and he struggles to breathe through it.

The enormity of it all hits him - he’s a father. He has a son. This little boy is a part of him, a piece of his heart made flesh. Frankie feels a surge of pride, but it’s quickly followed by a salty tasting wave of crushing fear.

“How do I do this?” He murmurs.

Carla steps beside him. “You be there.” She says as if it's simple, and of course it is. Such a simple, yet daunting thing. 

Frankie’s brows furrow with uncertainty. He wants to understand, to grasp the simplicity she speaks of, yet it feels elusive, intangible.

"Be there." He repeats, exhaling slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

The concept seems deceptively straightforward yet filled with profound implications. The ease of being present is daunting, a responsibility he isn't sure he’s fully prepared for. Thoughts race through his mind, a jumble of plans and uncertainties. 

Carla squeezes his shoulder gently, her touch grounding him in the moment.

He reaches out, gently brushing his fingertips against the baby's soft hand. The warmth of the sensation sends a shiver through him, and he swallows hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. It’s all too much. 

“What’s his name?” Frankie asks softly.

The baby stirs slightly, his tiny hand curling around Frankie's finger in his sleep. He lets out a shaky breath, his legs feeling like they might collapse under him at any moment.

“Frankie.” Carla replies. 

The absence of him is growing, mutating, and it’s been so hard to get through the days without him. 

Jude can’t sleep; tossing and lying awake for hours staring up at the ceiling and at the empty spot in her bed where Frankie ought to be; his long limbs wrapping around her like a spider devouring its prey.

The heavy bouts of tiredness have seemed to appear out of nowhere over the passing days, evidently the effects of arduous life on the island catching up with her. But it’s not enough to keep her still; she’s undeniably restless.

There’s something ansty picking at her scalp, gnarled fingers raking at the soft flumpy jelly of her brain. She can’t put her finger on it, perhaps it’s the stupid self-imposed distance she’d put between them. Her insistence that they sort their lives out individually, when all she wants to do is spend every waking moment in Frankie’s arms. 

Since their departure, watching him drive away, each time Jude had closed her eyes, the vivid images of the tsunami rising on the horizon flashed through her frontal lobe, keeping her tense and wrought.

To add to that, she’d be accosted outside her parent’s house during her comings and goings to the point that that she soon had to fight her way through the small crowd of paparazzi expanding as the days wore on; hounding her as soon as she stepped foot out of the front door to tend to piecing her life back together again. 

“Please, leave me alone,” she’d say to them as they crowded her until she got into her car and drove away, fraught and wrangled at their infecting presence now in her life.  

At night the news broadcasts would still replay the moment they came through the arrivals together at JFK; Frankie clutching his arm around her and holding her tightly against his body whilst she shut her eyes and got through it.

She would watch it over and over like a zombie, unable to look away. Remembering how those arms felt around her and how much she missed them. 

Life back here was hard, and Jude found herself missing the peace on the island, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply to calm herself, imagining she could hear the crash of the waves rolling up on the beach, the water splashing over her ankles and knees.

Headlines didn’t exist on the island, in fact nothing did. Just her and Frankie existed in their own confined and safe bubble away from the brutish realities that life harboured. Life that she’d been so desperate to get back to at one point, but now that she’s here, living in it, it’s just... well, it’s not like Jude remembered at all. 

She’d reach for her phone and scroll through, searching for sounds of the ocean waves. Pressing play she’d slouch back into the pillow as the familiar, comforting sounds of the waves filled her room and she could finally sleep for a while.

But it wasn’t enough to quell that irritating picking. 

One night she’d decided to get up, and soon found that she was running, in the middle of the night. Running until she was exhausted and her legs were screaming at her to stop. 

Jude had eventually stopped, miles from home and threw up on the sidewalk; choking on catching her breath through the heaving, and it tasted like putrid sea water.

She’d cough it up, plumes of it coming out of her and swirling around her feet as she stood horrified, zoning out at the waking nightmare that seemed to plague her. Feeling as real as the water sinking into her sneakers.

The lumpy puddle of vomit stared back at her as she calmed her mind, trying to convince herself it wasn’t real.

It’s not real... you’re home now, you’re safe. 

But home was strange, unsettling the way the city skyline twinkled in the distance, the towering buildings looking like giants against the backdrop of the dark sky. The sight should have brought comfort, a sense of familiarity and security. Instead, it only heightened Jude’s unease. The vastness of the urban landscape stretched out before her, a stark contrast to the confined space of the island that had been her world for so long.

Jude had proceeded to walk home in the breaking dawn and the sun was almost fully up by the time she’d stepped through the door. Her parents regarded her with an anxious look at the early hour, and Jude brushed it off to them that she was fine. 

But the trend had continued every night; Jude would get up and run.

She would run until her body was on the verge of collapse, her feet bloody with blisters, and then when she would return home, she would pass out from exhaustion and sleep for only a few hours until the nightmares began to resurface again. She’d ply herself with coffee to stay awake, anything to not go there, and the cycle would repeat itself. 

The one thing that was getting her through was the thought of seeing Frankie again.

And on the same evening after Frankie had seen his son for the first time, he and Jude are indeed talking on the phone, confirming the final details for his visit.

Jude feels instantly relaxed when she hears Frankie speak or breathe or chuckle down the line. Like every plague of angst swilling around her is instantly washed away.

But there’s something in his voice, a slight hesitation, a dimming of the light. Something she can’t put her finger on, so she changes the subject. 

“There’s been a few members of the press hanging outside the house.” Jude almost whispers.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I guess they’ve figured out where I live.” She sighs. “They won’t leave me alone.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Frankie enquires, his voice changing further down the line.

“What can you do about it?”

“Well...” he trails off, “nothing, I guess, but that’s not the fuckin’ point.” He bites down on his lip. “Maybe it might be good to tell our story. Maybe it might offer some closure?”

“Closure?” Jude baulks.

“Yeah. I think we kinda need it,” he pauses. 

“Mom says I should talk to someone, a therapist.” Jude says quietly.

She knows her mother means well, always the pragmatic voice of reason in their tiny family. But the suggestion stings somewhat, reopening wounds Jude is trying to bury. But in the back of her mind, perhaps that’s what the prickling is.

Frankie frowns. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

“I know I can. I keep having nightmares. It’s like I can’t get it outta my head, you know? It’s keeping me awake at night, the insomnia is pretty bleak right now.” She looks down at her blistered feet and winces.

Frankie goes quiet on the phone. He remembers all the times the sea water has chased and tried to drown him too.

“I hate knowing that you can’t sleep.” Frankie remarks sourly.

“It’ll be better when you’re here tomorrow. I miss you so much.” Jude says, her voice going quiet. 

“I miss you too, hermosa.” 

“I gotta tell you something… I bumped into Nate.” She waits when there’s an obvious pause on the line. She hears him take in a slow, steady breath. 

“You did?” Frankie asks, freezing on the spot.

“Yeah.”

“Well, tell me what happened, what did he say?”

“Nothing much, same old Nate. He seemed convinced that we could get back together.” She snorts in repugnance.

“I see.” Frankie hums quietly.

“Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

“You have nothing to worry about. I love you. I told Nate he didn’t stand a chance and that I didn’t want to see him ever again.”

“Kinda hard when he lives in your fuckin’ neighbourhood.” Frankie bites.

“Frankie-”

“Yeah, I know, sorry.”

“You okay? You seem distracted?” 

He sighs hard down the line, running a hand through his hair. He knows he’s being guarded, but he can’t help it. The events of the past year, hell the past day, have left him with walls he doesn’t know how to dismantle.

“I’m okay, really. Just tired. I just... I fuckin’ hate this. I hate being away from you like this.” Frankie explains, the pulling in his gut subsiding a little. 

“I do too. Was a stupid idea...”

“Yeah, not your finest.” He smirks down the line and she can hear it. Hear the fragments of the sun gleaming.

But Jude’s intuition tells her otherwise. She can sense the barrier between them, an invisible but palpable divide that his words don’t bridge.

“Frankie, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

“I know,” he says, but the words feel hollow, knowing she deserves more than the half-truths he offers, as if they’re spoken from a distance.

The silence between them stretches out, taut and uncomfortable. He can sense Jude’s concern, her need for reassurance, and he knows he’s failing to provide it. He shifts in his seat, searching for something to bridge the gap.

“I’ve, uh, been looking at some apartments today. Here, in Florida.”

“Oh.” Jude says, her voice small and unsure.

He pauses. “You don’t like the sound of that?” He’s trying to keep his tone light, but unable to mask the underlying anxiety.

“No, I just... I mean, New York is my home and-”

“Yeah?” Realising how his announcement must have sounded to her, he pauses.

He’d intended to steer the conversation away from the emotional minefield of his pick n' mix of feelings, but instead, has inadvertently introduced another layer of unseen complexity.

“Well, my parents are here, and my work and-”

“You can visit them whenever you want. Your parents can come visit us too, it’s just a flight away.” Frankie says, sounding agitated.

“You mean you want me there, in Florida?”

“We love each other and want to be together, right?”

“Of course,” Jude confirms. 

“I guess I’m just trying to figure things out, and Florida seems like the best place for me to be right now.” He grits. 

“Why Florida specifically? You can figure things out anywhere, Frankie.”

“I just think it’s the best option right now for me to be here.”

“For what?” Jude is silent for a moment, her breath heavy on the line.

“Why are you so against it?”

Jude baulks. “I’m not, I’m just… have you really thought about this? It seems kinda rash all of a sudden, to be looking at apartments there.”

“Yes. I don’t understand what’s so fuckin’ difficult about it!” Frankie snipes, his tone flat and sharp.

“Woah, Frankie. What’s gotten into you?”

He hears her sigh heavily down the phone and she doesn't say anything else, waiting for him to respond.

“I’m sorry... Mierda, I just got in my head about it.” (Shit) Frankie replies, running his hand through his hair. “I thought maybe you’d wanna be here with me.”

“I want nothing more than to be with you,” she says, her voice softer but no less resolute. “But we need to find a way to do this together. We can’t make decisions in isolation, Frankie. We need to talk, really talk, about our future together, and where that might be.”

“Yeah.” Frankie confirms. 

“We can talk about it more tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure,” Frankie replies, the words feeling both a relief and a heavy responsibility. “Listen, I’m gonna go. I’m tired, okay?”

“Okay.” Jude says, feeling deflated. 

“I’ll call you in the morning, before my flight.” He replies bluntly.

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.”

“I love you,” Jude says.

 “You too. Night.”

“Night.”

Instead of going for her run, Jude curls up into a ball on her bed, hugging her pillow and stares out at nothing.

The phone call with Frankie has left her feeling more unsettled, a gnawing worry twisting in her stomach. Her mind races with thoughts of the changes he’s proposing. Big changes moving to Florida to live with him? It seems so drastic, so sudden.

She understands his intentions, but the idea of him making such a significant move without fully discussing it with her feels like a betrayal somehow.

She tries to tell herself that perhaps she’s worrying over nothing, but her gut, the same gut that alerted her to Nate and his devious ways, convinces her all is not right with Frankie. 

When he ends the call, Frankie tosses his phone down on the coffee table in Benny’s apartment and sits contemplating for a long time. Thinking and his mind whirring until the sounds of the water starts filling his ears again.

Irritated, Frankie rifles through some drawers until he finds a blank notebook and a pen. 

He sits with the notebook on his knee and begins to write. 

The landscape of silvery skyscrapers and the concrete jungle of the Big Apple are getting closer.

The turbulence that had once been a minor inconvenience now feels like a personal assault, each bump and shake magnifying his anxiety.

The cockpit had once been his sanctuary, a place where Frankie felt invincible. But ever since the crash, flights feel different.

The familiar hum of engines, the routine safety announcements, the very sensation of being airborne - everything that once brought him comfort now fills him with a creeping dread.

The announcement for descent breaks through his reverie, and Frankie braces himself for the landing. The plane dips and sways slightly, and his heart pounds in his chest.

He grips the armrests, white knuckling and closing his eyes, counting down the minutes until the plane touches down. The plane eventually hits the runway safely and begins its journey to the terminal. 

Frankie’s booked another Air Bn’b for their reunion and Jude’s already there as he enters the apartment door, standing up and rushing to him, locking lips with him almost immediately that it makes him unsteady on his feet.

And he melds instantly around her. It blocks everything out, quietens the tornado of his mind and stifles that ache he’s felt since he watched her shrink in the distance.

Her lips are the same softness they’ve always been, her tongue tasting of longing and desire. He grips her tight, unable to let her go and fathom truly that she's back in his arms.

Frankie looks at her, pulling back whilst holding onto her arms, and regards her, taking her in all over again. She’s cut her hair and he weaves his fingers through it, smiling at the new length and how it changes her face.

She looks a little less gaunt, beginning to get those supple curves back that he remembers from the early days, filling out her clothes a little better and not having to hold up her jeans as she walks.

She wears a small smattering of make-up and he thinks she looks beautiful regardless - and that he’s wholly undeserving of her.

Jude reaches up and runs her fingers through his significantly shorter curls peeking out from under his cap, and marvels at how soft they feel.

His eyes are still that muddy swamp that swallows her whole. Those heart shaped lips are still a pink rosy splash of intense colour on his face that she longs to taste again and again. 

The welcome and anticipated feel of her fingers grazing behind his ears hair whilst she’s stood on tip toes is an indescribable relief. 

Frankie stares back at her with those piercing eyes and she’s held there under the spell of his gaze unable to refute him. Breathing never used to be so hard, but she has to constantly remind herself to do it whenever he looks at her like this.

The mastery of him leaves Jude breathless.

“Hey hermosa,” he smiles into her lips as he tastes her again.

“Hey Catfish” she says, kissing over his lips with a heated fervour. 

He’s here with her and it feels like she can finally breathe again - he’s finally home. 

Her fingers are delicately circling up and down his chest; pulling him out of sleep, dipping into the softness of his hips, trailing across to the slot of his belly button.

He lays there for a few sweet, oneiric moments quietly enjoying the patterns Jude makes on his skin and how it makes his nipples awaken with him too. 

It’s been the first full night’s sleep he’s had in over a month, since he’d parted ways with her and left her in New York. Frankie doesn’t wake with a sweaty jolt from a torrid nightmare of drowning, or burning and instead feels more rested than he’s ever been. 

Holding her in his arms all night, after they’d made intense love for hours beforehand, she’s managed to sleep too and isn’t lying awake trying to calm herself with ocean sounds as insomnia strangles her. Nor does she feel the need to run until she can’t feel her feet anymore.

Jude's forehead is resting against his cheek and is tickled lightly by the graze of his scruff reaching out of his pores, and his lips glue themselves to her temple now and again kissing against it, signalling he’s there with her in the land of the conscious.

Frankie lusts for the feeling of her making swirly tracks over his epidermis and leaving little shivers as she glides over his hips and sides of his waist. 

Frankie runs his fingers down her spine and up again; he hears her breathe out contentedly.

He’s soft and relaxed; his warm cock resting languidly against the top of his thigh, and her breasts are squashed into the side of him, her leg hooked over his left leg.

Waking up together slowly through sleep-filled eyes and enjoying the warmth of the day as the sun pools in through the window, with those breathy sighs and stretches around one another’s limbs.

“Mmm,” Frankie hums out into her crown, ghosting his nose into her hairline and indulging in the scents of her hair. 

Jude shadows her fingers gently in return over his groin, down onto the plump circumference of his balls and gently massages them; tiny pitter-patters of her fingertips against the skin that bunches around them.

Enjoying the firmness of them through the somnolent comfort of their hazy bliss, she rolls them gently between her thumb and fingers squeezing softly. 

She begins cupping him gently and squeezing, kneading as she makes his breath hitch further in his throat. His fingers are felt crawling at her neck, scratching away at the nape delicately. 

He reaches for her chin, tipping her face up to meet him and plants a delicate smooch on her that soon morphs with its vivid passion. His other hand goes to the skin around her back and slips, clutching onto her bare ass, squeezing her pliant meat in his tender grip. 

She rolls over his balls and up the length of him that’s hardening, waking up fully to the sensual feel of her touching on him again. 

Frankie draws his right leg up and out of the duvet, resting it back down as he opens his legs a little wider as Jude starts pumping his now awake cock gently. Up and down slowly and with her grip tightening around him. 

He grunts out; a delicious sound escaping his mouth and nose as though he chokes.

He strokes down her back again, making her nipples hard as her skin tingles cold from his touch. His fingertips dance and create little convulses as he drags them up her body making her ripple softly against him.

He rests his hand on his waist; a splayed giant starfish as she looks up at him, and he looks back into her eyes through that hooded desire that’s clouding them into a milky latte in the morning light. 

“I love it when you touch me like this,” Frankie whines, enjoying the feel of the relaxed jerk session she’s giving him in the early morning dawn. 

“I love touching you like this,” Jude confirms. 

They’re spread together in the puffy sheets of the bed, warm and content from one another’s skin, touching and stroking and feeling one another.

He reaches for her breast, running his knuckles against her pebbled nipple, making her groan equally into his mouth as he kisses her again. That nub of each jolt through it sends sparks up her thighs and into her pussy that’s flooding for him. 

He grunts out again, a deep hum on his larynx, drawing his knee up and holding onto his thigh as she works him tighter and little more rhythmic now. 

The slick feel of his hard cock inside her hand is paramount as she licks her palm and runs it over him, squelching him through her saliva. 

His eyes roll into the back of his head at the feel of it; so wet and sensitive right on the tip of him that it makes his legs judder with a spasm. 

Frankie breathes in, grunting and pursing his lips out, bucking his hips slowly into her grip.

“Fuck,” he drowns inside of her hair; feeling her fingers dancing around his balls and massaging as she strokes his cock up and down.

Running her thumb over his frenum and making the delicious pull wind tighter under the muscles of his abs.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he drones, biting down onto his plumpy bottom lip and closing his eyes as they roll back into his lids. “You make me wanna come so bad...”

His hips are trembling and his hand is reaching for her chin again as he swallows her in a swamping kiss. 

He groans out with a hissed snuffle; his teeth clenched together and his cheeks blown out, his eyes shut and lost somewhere between rational thinking and pure unadulterated bliss.

His hips wind as Jude pumps and jerks him off tighter, harder, faster - tugging on his balls now that are aching wonderfully through it all. 

“Fuck, yeah…" His breath vibrates in the back of his throat as he sucks in little gasps in succession

“Come for me, Frankie,” Jude whispers into his chin. 

Frankie tenses his ass, his cheeks rising from the mattress slightly as he feels everything in his body rush towards the end of his cock. 

“Fuck!” His head contorts back into the pillow. 

He covers her fingers in warm, plentiful glops, some of it spraying up his chest as he comes. 

She strokes him gently through his sticky come down as he reaches for her, kissing her deeply and pulling back to look at her as she smiles at him with sleepy, dream filled eyes.

“I love you,” she whispers. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Should we… should we maybe talk about Florida?” Jude probes gently as she reaches for a tissue from the box on the bedside table. 

“I love you too, hermosa.” He moans back into her mouth. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

He holds her tightly, closing his eyes as he breathes out in sweet relief.

Frankie wipes his chest down as she hands it to him, and she notices he avoids her gaze. He screws it up in his fist and turns to her. 

He hesitates, the words catching in his throat. This is the moment he’s been dreading since he found out himself. How can he tell her? How can he shatter all her illusions?

“I know you said Florida's the best place for you right now, but is it really, considering how much…” she chooses her words carefully, “... pain, is there?”

His eyes soften at her and he feels the catch in his throat. Of course she would worry about his addiction. That’s just who she is, always wanting the best for him.

Jude had been his rock during his darkest days on that damned island. She had seen him at his worst - angry, desperate, afraid - and she had never given up on him. Her unwavering support had been a lifeline, a beacon of hope when everything else seemed lost at sea.

Jude had believed in Frankie when he couldn’t believe in himself, and now, even with the weight of his past mistakes and the uncertainty of his future, she’s still here, still caring. Still loving him even though he knows he is far less than deserving of her. 

Frankie swallows hard, emotions swirling sickly inside him. He feels a mix of gratitude and guilt. Gratitude for her steadfast love and support, and guilt for the pain and worry he’s caused her. He can see it in her eyes as they peer carefully back at him, a slight spark of trepidation and confusion. 

“Frankie, you’re worrying me, please talk to me.”

He can see the concern etched on her beautiful face, the worry that perhaps he’s back on the drugs. It’s an unspoken fear that lingers within her, a cariogenic shadow from the past that refuses to fade completely.

Frankie knows she has every reason to be anxious, to be fearful of a relapse because, God, he is. It's a struggle that he faces every single day now he's back here.

She squeezes his hand, her eyes brimming with concerned empathy, and a touch of something else. Something that threatens to fall down her face like jagged glass. 

Frankie takes a deep breath and looks at her. 

He realises in that moment just how much he needs her, how much he needs her belief in him. How much he can't lose her.

Fuck, he loves her more than anything. He just hopes that its enough.

“Jude, I… I have a son.”

To be continued...

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@76bookworm76

[sugar-omi]

Not a request but I desperately needed to share my thoughts on Cove Holden bc I have no one to say this to.

But I feel like accidental overstimulation is something that will ALWAYS happen with Cove especially if he’s in a cockdrunk/pussydrunk state like. You say you’re tired and he’s giving you puppy dog eyes “Just one more round babe? I promise, it’s the last one 🥺” and you give in and 5 rounds later, you’re still stuck in the mating press he put you in, fucked stupid and crying your eyes out from the pleasure while Cove just peppers you in kisses for encouragement and whispering “M’sorry, last one, I promise” or “You just feel too good” Yeah…last one my ass…

YESS THATS WHAT IM TALKIN ABT

n yknow how in the wedding night dlc, he says he's not good with words. i like to imagine as the night goes on, totally sex drunk, and that besides feral grunts and moans, he can only muster up a few words about how warm n tight you are, how you feel so good, that he's cumming.

poor thing can't even make full sentences, his brain has totally melted and all he can think about and struggle out fractured sentences about how good the sex is, how messy it is between you, especially if you're letting him cum inside.

he's resting on his elbows, trying not to squash you but his body is flush against yours, his chest squishing yours, face buried in your neck and you can hear how he pants like an exhausted dog, but you can hear his desperation in every breath..

it's a bit suffocating. he's so heavy, and the air is so hot, humid, and you're both so sweaty, but even though you're tired and so overstimulated, so much so it hurts. your sex is still throbbing and leaking with pure need, and you want more.

you'd sob out such a wretched moan. it could almost be mistaken for sad crying with how pathetic it sounds, but the filthy squelching between your legs, the sound of skin hitting skin.. it's nothing more than a whorish moan, born from your cries and whimpers, pleading for cove to hurry up and cum. to make you cum, so that way you can rest.

but when you both fall over the edge, your legs hook around his back, knees clamping around his sides, trying to close with him still in between them and your nails dragging down his sweaty back, and he's humping you like a damn dog, working himself through his orgasm at the expense of grinding his fat tip into your sensitive g-spot.

even though your legs jerk and tremble with every stroke, your clit / tip painfully overstimulated, your walls begging for relief from his bully cock, you somehow dont really want him to pull away, your spent body giving in to the toe-curling pleasure, feeling devastatingly empty when he pulls out..

because he does try to hold up to his promise. (3 rounds later after his initial plead)

but he's such a mess, and you probably look like a mess, too. he's fucked both your brains out, and you want him close. wanna be connected to him. want your bodies sewn together until you're one never ending loop of pure love and ecstasy.

he hears your pitiful whimpers, tries to blink away the cloud of lust from his vision, tries to think about how you're probably so tired, so sensitive... he promised it'd be the last round, really does try to pry himself off you after he promised it'd be the last round..

but those pretty glassy eyes blink at him, so dark with lust and those lips are so swollen and sweet, your hands reaching for him, legs curling around his back as you breathily ask for more

and even though you're both too damn sensitive, every brush of skin and slight breeze a sharp sensation to your overstimulated bodies, you feel too empty to be apart from each other, maybe one more round will satisfy you...

[funnyjb]

I’m Having His Baby

Joe and I have been married for two months now. We just got back from our honeymoon in The Maldives. It was like something out of a postcard. It was beautiful and calm. Joe and I had the best time. Just being in his presence makes me happy so getting a week of him all to myself self was the most wonderful thing ever! He made me laugh my face off every minute, He made dinner when we weren’t going out to explore new food, and when we got in the pool or in the ocean he would pick me up and I would wrap my legs around his waist and we would just stay there admiring each other and laughing until we couldn’t breathe.

It had been two days since we got back from our trip. It is the offseason but Joe still needs to go into the facility for some meetings and QB work. I on the other hand have not been feeling well. I’ve been nauseous and tired. I can’t even drink my coffee with out gagging.

I was in the kitchen trying to drink my coffee when my phone rang.

“Y/n!”- Brooke

“Hey, Brooke.”- you

“Hey…is everything ok?”- Brooke

“Not really. I’ve been nauseous and tired ever since we got back.”- You

“Oh. Maybe you got a little something. Or are you about to get your period?”- Brooke

“No, I was supposed to get it three days ago. I don’t know why- OH MY GOD.”- you put your hand over your mouth.

“WHAT? Y/N?!”- Brooke

“IM LATE BROOKE! Three days late! Im never late. It all makes sense.”- you

“What makes sense?!”- Brooke

“Brooke, I’m pregnant.”- you

“WHAT! OMG, Y/N!”- Brooke

“Well, I don’t know for sure but it lines up.”- You

“Yeah, it’s does! Omg, y/n. I’m so happy for you! Have you taken a test yet?”- Brooke

“No.”- You

“Maybe you should just in case.”- Brooke

“Yeah, let me see if CVS will deliver.”- you

“Omg! I’m freaking out!”- Brooke

I tried to stay calm. Because what if I wasn’t and we are just making a big deal out of nothing? Could I be pregnant? It lines up. I’m late on my period. I’ve been nauseous. I’ve been feeling so tired. Gosh, what if I am? How will Joe react? He’s not ready. I’m not ready. I’ve always wanted to be a mom but not yet. Not now. But if I am, I will love this baby no matter what. And knowing I have an amazing husband by my side I know I will get through it.

“Okay, it should come in the next hour.”- you

I took a deep breath.

“You ok?”- Brooke

“I don’t know, Brooke.”- you

“Hey, what ever happens I’m here for you. I will be there for the baby and you and Joe. Don’t worry. It will be ok.”- Brooke

“Thanks, Brooke. Means a lot. Do you mind if you could come over? I don’t want to be alone.”- You

“Of course! Be there in a few.”- Brooke

“Thanks, B.”- You

I hung up.

I started to get a little emotional. Who knows what I’m going to find out in the next hour.

———————————————————————-

(An hour later)

“Ready to flip it over?”- Brooke

We were in my bathroom. I had the test faced down on the counter near Joes side.

I took a deep breath.

“Yeah.”- you

My heart started to race.

I picked it up and flipped it over. There it was two blue lines. I’m pregnant.

I covered my mouth. Tears started to roll down my cheeks.

“Your..your pregnant?”- Brooke

She got up and came over to me. She saw the lines and covered her mouth. She was so happy. I looked at her.

“You’re pregnant, Y/n!”- Brooke

I started to laugh a little. It’s really happing. I’m having his baby. Joe’s baby. Our baby.

Brooke hugged me tight. We started to laugh and cry together. We couldn’t believe it. We had my phone recording. I showed the camera.

“I can’t believe it.”- you

“Same! You will be an amazing mother.”- Brooke

She hugged me again.

“And you will be an amazing aunt.”- You

We looked at each other for a second. Then started bursting out laughing again. Me a mom? Brooke an aunt? Who would have thought. The two best friends who said in middle school that they will die old together and hop through bars in there 90s will be a mom and an aunt. With a husband and a boyfriend.

Brooke stopped the video. She started looking through it. Tears still flowing.

“Brooke?”- You

Tears started to stream again.

“Yeah?”- you

“What about Joe? He’s not ready to be a dad. He said it.”- you

“Awe, y/n. He’s going to be an amazing dad. He loves you so deeply, y/n. He will text me and call me and talks about you for hours. I usually just text or call him to tell him to tell you to pick up your phone. But he will go on and on about how amazing and beautiful his wife is. He called me today actually asking if you have been acting weird lately. Saying that you don’t feel well and you have never been this weak or tired before. He was so worried, y/n. He loves you. And doesn’t he always talk about how he will love to have a family with you?”- Brooke

“Yeah.. he does.”- You

“See? He will be there for you and the baby.”- Brooke

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”- you

“What time does he come back?”- Brooke

“Around 6ish.”- You

“Ok, how about I go to target and get a onesie or something to tell him. So nobody sees you.”- Brooke

“That would be great! Thanks, B.”- you

“Of course. I will be back.”- Brooke

She hugs me one last time then goes and gets in her car.

——————————————————-

(A few hours later)

Brooke came back with a number nine bengals onesie and some flowers and chocolate for me! I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. She then later left and I was left alone until Joe comes home.

I decided to lay out the onesie on the counter along with the test.

Any minute Joe will be home. Just as I was about to look out the window to see him pulling in he came. I ran quickly to the kitchen. I heard the door connecting from the garage open.

“Babe?”- Joe

“I’m in the kitchen!”- You

I heard his footsteps along the floor.

He turned the corner and there I was.

“Hey, baby!”- Joe

I ran up and hugged him.

“Hi! How was your day?”- You

“Long. I couldn’t wait to come home to you.”- Joe winked

I playfully rolled my eyes

“How was your day?”- Joe

“Um well, how about I show you what I found out about today?”- you

Joe was a little confused.

“Um, ok!”- Joe

“Just…close your eyes.”- you

“Alright…”- Joe

He closed his eyes shut. I took his hand and brought him around the counter. I let go of his hand and took a deep breath.

“Ok, you can look.”- you

He open his eyes and he instantly landed on me. I smiled then shot my eyes towards the layout on the counter.

His eyes then was drawn to where I was looking.

His face shot up!

“I’m…I’m going to be a dad?”- Joe

I nodded my head

He looked at me with tears welling in his eyes and a huge smile.

He picked me up.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so happy, baby!”- Joe

I squealed.

He then put me down with his arms still around me.

My eyes started to get teary.

“come here.”- Joe

He pulled me into his embrace.

“It’s going to be ok. Everything will be ok.”- Joe

His voice calmed me down.

He knew I was nervous to become a mom. We talked about having kids before. I was excited no doubt, but scared also.

I looked up at him.

“You are going to be an amazing mom to our baby, y/n. You are strong and kind. Smart and brave. I believe in you. And I love you, so much.”- Joe

He gave me a kiss on the forehead.

We just stood there for what felt like forever. Just taking it all in.

I filled his reaction and later edited it.

———————————————————-

(Two days later)

“Joey!”- Robin

“Hey, mom.”- Joe wrapped his mom in a hug

“Hey, y/n!”- Jimmy

“Hi, Jimmy!”- You

I wrapped him in a hug.

Robin later came over to me and gave me a hug to.

Joes family is in town. They came down for the summer. Both of his brothers and their family. Joe’s brother Jamie and his wife and three kids are staying with Robin and Jimmy. His other brother Daniel and his wife are staying at a friend’s house nearby. Tonight is a little family get together along with some of his cousins.

We ate dinner and all decided to sit in the living room enjoying each others company.

Joe pulled me more into him as I was just sitting next to him.

He whispered In my ear.

“I think we should tell them, baby.”- Joe smiled

I smiled back.

“Okay!”- Joe

Joe cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention

“So, y/n and I have something we want to tell you.”- Joe smiled

“I’m pregnant!”- You

The whole family shot up. Robin and chimney were in tears as well as some of his family members.

They all came over to us and hugged us.

“Congratulations! So happy for you two!”-Jamie

“Thanks, Jamie!”- You

Jamie the moved over and Robin came up to me. Already sending me into some tears.

She hugged me tight but being careful of my stomach.

“I’m so happy for you two. Joe loves you so much y/n. He has always been talking about how he wanted a family with you.”- Robin

“Awe.”- you

“How far along are you?”- Codi (jamies wife)

“Two weeks.”- you

Everyone awed and smiled.

I’m having his baby. I thought to myself. The love of my life’s baby.

Joe then came over to me and kissed me passionately.

“I can’t wait till our baby is here.”- Joe smiled

—————————————————————

[yoongiseesawmp3]

too sweet - san

summary: model!san x designer!reader. it's love at first sight when you see san. he's perfect...for your runway show! he's the top model right now, and everyone wants him. you want him a little more, but we'll unpack that later. can you get the it boy into your collection?

word count: 8.6k

warnings: afab reader

masterlist

"how many more?" you whine, collapsing onto the table in front of you. your dramatics shuffle all of the model cards out of order after you spent the last hour organizing them. your system is ruined, so your mood goes too. the only thing to pull you back to reality is jen, your right hand man. she pulls you up, encouraging words on her lips, and gets to reordering the cards you just messed up.

"we only have a few more," she reminds you. "and the last few have been good! i think we'll have plenty of options for your show."

"yeah, the girls have been great," you agree. "but the guys are all meh. i thought i was being all forward thinking doing a coed collection but now i wish i hadn't."

"oh come on," jen nudges you. "these guys were hot!"

"they're pretty, but this guy tripped, this one didn't bring a portfolio, and this one has conflicts from now until the show," you list off. "i need at least two more, or i'll have to cut the men's pieces."

"we'll find one," jen ruffles your hair. "you want me to go bring in the next model?"

"nah, we've got a few more minutes on our break," you tell her. "i'm gonna go get a coffee, do you need anything?"

"a water is fine," she replies as you slip out the door. you try to avoid the waiting area so you won't run into any potential models. you make it to the coffee machine down the hall, and of course it's just your luck that there's a tall skinny man already there.

"y/n?" he smiles. "i didn't know this was your show!"

"seonghwa?" you smile back. "i swear, you get taller every time i see you."

"what can i say? i eat my wheaties," he jokes, pulling you in for a polite hug. "how long have you had this gig?"

"few months," you reply. "i've been shitting bricks the whole time."

"i'm sure," he nods. "but you're doing a great job. i've never seen this many top models in the same place for years. everyone wants to walk for you."

"well that's very flattering," you mumble. "but you'd think 'top models' would come more prepared. half of these bozos have not impressed me."

"she's talented and determined," seonghwa notes. "guess i gotta bring my a game."

"i guess you do," you tease him. "hey, you don't know anyone who could come audition before the end of the day, do you? i need more guys."

"i could make a few calls," he thinks. "what do you have in mind?"

"is it too vain to say someone sexy?" you laugh. "we're looking for someone intimidating, good walk, strong features. it's a dramatic piece so i want someone unique."

"i might know a guy," seonghwa nods.

"anyone i'd know?"

"i guess you'll know when you see him," he replies. "i gotta go, i think i'm next, so-"

"right, right, go make yourself pretty," you tell him. "it was so good to see you!"

"you too," he smiles at you genuinely. "proud of you."

"hey, no shmoozing before your audition."

-

seonghwa got a place in your show, obviously. now you only need one more guy. jen convinced you the tripper could work with some help, and there was another model from earlier in the day that you think deserves a call. you still need someone for your final piece, though, and you're running out of hope.

"so how do you know seonghwa again?" jen asks as you wait for the last model to show. "and how well do you know him? and how well would he like to know me?"

"we worked together a few years ago," you laugh. "he was one of the models in my first show."

"so you gave him his big break? he's indebted to you?" jen asks. "he has to make it up to you by, i don't know, going on a date with your best friend and best stylist?"

"we'll see," you frown. "you know i don't like messing with models."

"i hate that rule," jen mumbles as she sits back in her seat. "where's this last model? i wanna go home."

"seonghwa said he pulled a favor getting him here," you explain as you check your phone. "so he might be running behind. i can wait for him if you wanna go."

"no, if he's anything like seonghwa i want to be here to ogle him."

at that, there's a knock at the door, and you call out for them to come in. who steps through the door is maybe the most beautiful man you've ever seen. he's striking, strong, and smiling shyly like he's not used to having eyes on him despite his profession.

"hi, i hope i'm not too late?" he asks, standing by the door.

"no," you quickly reply. "not at all, come in. you're seonghwa's friend?"

"yep," he confirms, walking up to hand you the most professional looking portfolio you've seen all day. and this guy wasn't even expecting to walk! no way you're hiring those other losers now. "i'm san."

"san, hi," you smile at him, and jen stifles a laugh next to you. somebody's smitten, she thinks, but she won't say anything just yet. "i'm y/n, i'm the designer, and this is jen, my stylist."

"nice to meet you," jen presents her hand, and san tentatively shakes it. "firm handshake, i like it. you have soft hands."

"thanks?" he laughs nervously. "um, so do i just-"

"yes, yes," you motion for him to head to the back of the room. "whenever you're ready."

as if you weren't already convinced this was the guy for you (i mean, for your show) then his walk sold it. his presence is so commanding, his movements so precise, and you've never seen someone with such perfect posture. it makes you sit up straighter as he walks toward you, and you almost swoon when he winks at you before turning around. you squeeze jen's hand under the table, and when san finishes his walk you fight the urge to applaud.

"that was great!" jen comments once san is finished. "y/n, what did you think?"

"you're perfect," you breathe out, and jen nudging you brings you back to earth. "uh, for the collection."

"thanks," san smiles proudly. "hopefully i'll hear from you soon."

"hopefully you will," you smile back. "thanks for coming on such short notice."

"it was my pleasure," san says, waving as he ducks out into the hall. as soon as the door is shut, you turn to jen and say, "i love him."

"i know you do," she laughs. "so is he in the show?"

"in the show?" you scoff. "he is the show. he's exactly what i was imagining. i want ten more of him."

"i'm sure you'd like that," she says with a waggle of her eyebrows.

"stop," you roll your eyes. "i just said i don't mess with models."

"mhm," jen nods. "so who else are we casting? we have one spot for sure..."

-

san and seonghwa were cast immediately. well, maybe not immediately. you both looked through their portfolios, ooh'ing and aah'ing over their looks before deciding they had to be in the show. when you and jen decided on the next two male models quickly, you figured this would be an easy discussion. wrong! you have four female models you're willing to fight tooth and nail for, and jen has her own four that she's just as committed to. you've been deliberating for a while now, so you decide to take a break. you head to that same break room you met seonghwa in earlier, and you thought briefly about taking san's portfolio with you. for research purposes, obviously, but you decided against it.

as soon as you step into the hallway, you hear faint sounds of music. not unusual for this studio space, but still, you proceed with caution. you don't want to interrupt anybody, so you walk quietly until you find the the source of the sound. it's san! and he's...dancing?

"oh god, sorry," he bumbles as soon as he sees you. he rushes to his phone, propped against the window in front of him. "god. that's embarrassing."

"what were you doing?" you smile at him.

"embarrassing myself," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. he wiggles his phone in the air and explains, "my agent wants me to post more, says it'll help me get booked, and he sent me a couple tiktok trends he wants me to do. so i was.."

"dancin' your heart out?" you tease, and he blushes.

"you could say that," he smiles shyly, again making it seem like he's not used to having attention on him. does he know he's a model?

"wait, how long have you been out here?" you ask, worried he might have heard you and jen (mostly you) gawking over his portfolio.

"just a few minutes," he shrugs. "part of why i was able to come walk for you is because of another audition i had on the other side of this building. so i was over there for a while, and came back here to humiliate myself in front of my favorite designer, it seems."

"your favorite, huh?" you ask. "good thing we've cast my show already, otherwise i'd think you're sucking up."

"damn, so i'm too late?" san laughs.

"who else is auditioning models here?" you change the subject.

"kim hongjoong?" san says it like a question, and you nod in recognition.

"he's good," you hum. "i hope you don't get it though."

"what?" san balks. "why?"

"because i want you in my show," you shrug. "and i don't wanna fight hongjoong for you, even though i know i'd win."

"you sure about that?" san asks. "he's been working out, i hear."

"oh i could so take him," you assure san. "i'm a biter." you notice a flicker in san's eyes, a hint of something, but you feel yourself blushing and cough so you have an excuse to cover your face. "excuse me. i should probably go, we've got a few more models to cast.."

"wait, so you just drop the bomb that i'm in your show and then you're gone?" san asks, following you down the hall. "how do i know you're serious?"

"because you have my word," you furrow your eyebrows. "but if you really need the confirmation, i'm sure my people will call your people soon." as if on cue, san's phone starts buzzing, still perched on the window. san looks to it, then you. you feel vindicated as you turn and walk on to the break room with a flick of your hair over your shoulder, leaving a stunned model and the smell of peaches in your wake.

-

all the models have been cast, and it's the morning of your first fitting. you slept in your studio last night because you had so much work to do. it was mostly tiny alterations to ensure the pieces fit their new models, but you also spent half the night cleaning. you don't let people into your studio usually, or if you do, it's people that know you well enough to know you and your work are a mess. but today, you're the boss. you need to look put together, and so does your studio.

you're standing by the door, taking everything in, and decide that this is as clean as you'll get it. there's still fabric, zippers, stray threads strewn all over your work tables, but you're a designer. that's normal. if the models have complaints they can deal. being next to the door, you hear something in the hall, but write it off as one of your artistic neighbors at work. you start to walk away, toward your coffee station in the back, when the doorknob to your studio jiggles. you hear a quiet "shit" and then a polite knock, so you walk over cautiously. one look through the peephole reveals who it is.

"san?" you ask, opening the door. "what are you doing here?"

"realizing i am," he checks his ridiculously expensive watch, "an hour early for my fitting. sorry." he adds a sheepish smile at the end and you fight the urge to coo. he looks like he just woke up, and that he definitely rushed here. his clothes are mussed, hair in a beanie to hide it not being done, eyes puffy with sleep. still, he looks perfect.

"was the email confusing?" you ask. "i was worried that-"

"no," he shakes his head. "no, i was just, um, i'm really excited," he explains shyly. "i almost couldn't sleep last night, so when i woke up this morning i thought i had overslept. i should've checked."

"no worries," you say as you blush. he was excited? for a fitting? man must love his job. "here, come in. i just finished cleaning, so you get first dibs on space. there's a couch in the back if you want to nap before we get started."

"how long have you been here?" san asks, looking around at the studio. he sees a lot of chaos, but it's beautiful chaos. colors that compliment each other perfectly, strange techniques that have made something stunning. he can't believe he'll be part of this show.

"uh, since last night," you admit, finally reaching your coffee machine. "i had a lot to do."

"you slept here?" san frowns, tossing his stuff onto a table before joining you. he leans against the wall as he watches you.

"yeah," you shrug. "i hate waking up early, so it saved me from getting here grumpy if anything."

"but did you rest?" he asks, looking out at the studio. "this is a big space for one person to clean."

"jen helped," you tell him. "she was here last night to bring over the shoes for each outfit."

"which one is mine?" san asks with an eager smile.

"wouldn't you like to know?" you stick your tongue out at him for good measure. "yours isn't out here. it's so big i had to keep it in my office, i couldn't move it out here by myself."

"it's big?" he looks a little scared.

"that may not be the right word," you think. "it's heavy, so that's why i needed someone strong to wear it."

"you think i'm strong?" san smirks, and you blush. "how'd you know?"

your mind thinks to his portfolio still sitting on your desk, full to the brim of him in scantily clad photoshoots. you've seen pictures of his chest, his abs, his arms. muscles that had to take hours in the gym to sculpt. you wonder shyly if his portfolio is still on your desk, open to a picture of him in a pink outfit with a hint of his chest on display. you'll have to cover it quickly if it is.

"i asked seonghwa how you two met, and he said you go to the same snooty model gym," you explain, which is the truth. seonghwa had been in a couple shows with san before they became friends, but it took the two of them working out together to actually become buddies. they've been looking out for each other ever since, seonghwa told you. san seems to think your explanation was enough, so he hums and nods before turning his attention back to your collection.

"so how did you and seonghwa meet?" he asks casually. you tell him about your first show, as an independent designer no less, and how seonghwa found you stress crying backstage. as you always do when describing seonghwa, you stress how your relationship was friendly, but nothing more. you never want anyone to think you're fooling around with one of your models. but san finds himself thinking, hm, that means seonghwa isn't his competition.

"do you want anything to drink?" your voice pulling san from his thoughts. he looks at you, cupping a warm mug of coffee, and smiles.

"no, thank you," he says. "i try not to have anything before a fitting, i never want to mess up the sizing and put more work on the designer."

"san that doesn't sound healthy," you frown. "and what kind of designer is sticking you in clothes so skin tight you can't have a glass of water? i need names."

"it's a lot of them, i'm afraid," he laughs. "most people cast me expecting to show off my abs, or something else, so i don't have much space to mess up during show season."

"yeah, you are always showing some kind of skin," you think about it.

"you been studying me?" san teases, and you blush.

"i'm a designer, it's my job," you mumble. "i reviewed everyone's portfolio thoroughly."

"what was seonghwa's last shoot then?" san quizzes you. you make a guess, but you get it wrong. "and what was mine?"

"vogue, right?" you answer immediately, and san responds with a shit eating grin.

"i'm so telling hwa i'm your favorite model now," he says, resting against the wall again as he folds his arms over his chest. his very muscled arms, and his broad-

"knock knock!" jen shouts from the door. she steps inside and asks, "you know you didn't lock this- oh hey san."

"good morning," he nods to her. "nice to see you again."

"nice to see you too, so bright and early," jen says as she looks at you. "how long have we been here?"

"me since last night, san since a few minutes ago. he didn't read the email."

"i read the email!" he whines. "i was just excited!"

"that's sweet," jen coos as she dumps bags onto one of your worktables. "i hope i'm not interrupting anything?"

"jen, do you have a favorite model?" san asks, and she thinks for a moment.

"no, i don't," she shakes her head. "there's too many good ones, so it depends on the day. why do you ask?"

"i just found out i'm y/n's favorite," san explains with a smile.

"you just found out?" jen laughs, and you groan. san looks like he's gonna say something else but you speak before he can.

"hey, since y'all are both here, come help me move this table," you command. "we need space for the models to walk." they do as you say, but share a knowing look while you're distracted. it's a bad thing to have your best friend and your crush in cahoots, but you'll figure that out later.

-

since san was here early, you got to work on his fitting first. jen finished setting up the workroom while you and san went to your office. jen made a show of putting headphones in to listen to music, and you wanted to pinch her so hard. she's making it obvious that you have a thing for san, and you're hoping beyond hope he doesn't notice.

"oh my god," he whispers when you open the door to your office, revealing the piece you've dedicated the past few months to. "that's incredible."

"you like it?" you turn to him, unsure. "it's a lot, i know."

"i love it," he smiles from ear to ear. "i've never worn something like this before."

"i hope no one has," you laugh nervously. "i tried a technique to emulate fur, so i'm hoping this is a super cool fashion innovation that'll take the industry by storm."

"how'd you do it?" san asks, looking at the piece in awe. "and how long did it take?"

"so, i shredded pounds and pounds of natural fabric until it looked so fine it could be a better alternative to faux fur," you explain. "and it took me about...four months?" san whistles lowly, his hands twitching at his sides. "you can touch it if you want."

"i want to put it on," he turns to you excitedly. "how do you want me to wear it?"

"don't hate me," you beg. "since this is such a big piece, and i want it to draw attention, i don't have a shirt for you."

"that's ok," san nods. "adds to the natural element."

"exactly," you smile, blushing anyway. "and there's just white pants underneath, for contrast. they should be super comfy, to make up for the workout you'll get walking around in the jacket."

"i can't wait," san says happily. he turns to you fully, looking between the outfit and you. "do you want me to strip, or...?"

"oh god, let me turn around," you say. "the pants are on the desk. let me know when you have them on."

"you're very polite," san chuckles. "most designers try to manage every single thing, including how models get dressed."

"it's pants," you scoff. "if you can't put pants on how did you get out the house?"

"i'm ready," he says, and you turn back to find him in the pants, yes, but still with his shirt on.

"um, do you mind?" you ask, tugging at the neckline of your own shirt hoping he gets the hint. it distracts him just enough that you have to call his name, and he looks at you with a hum. "can you, uh, take your shirt off?" he responds with actions, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion. you squeak out, "great!" and then shuffle toward the mannequin. "i might need help lifting this."

"no worries," he hurries to your aid, his hands brushing yours as you push the jacket off the form. "wow, this is no joke."

"if it's too heavy i can-"

"i can handle it," san says firmly. "help me into it?"

you hold up one side while san slips his arm in, and then help him into the rest. you take a step closer, trying to fasten the clasp on the front, but it won't meet. you struggle for a minute, hands ghosting so softly over san's chest. he doesn't realize he's holding his breath until your voice pulls him from his focus.

"what?" he looks down at you. "why are you frowning? it looks great."

"it doesn't fit over your chest," you pout. "i thought i had your measurements right-"

"oh, sorry, i've been working out," san admits. "and i think i gave you an old portfolio since i was in a rush, so my information may not be up to date..."

"shit," you mumble, and san tries to fix the situation. he starts tugging at the jacket, but you gasp and grab his hands, stilling them instantly. you look at him sternly as you instruct, "i'll make it fit, you just have to wear it. please don't do my job for me."

"sorry," san whispers. you're so close he could just lean down and kiss that pout from your lips, but that wouldn't be professional of him. but boy does he want to.

"before you take it off, let me find your shoes," you look around. "i want to see the whole look together...maybe jen knows where they are."

you open your office door and peek your head out, gasping at what you find. jen is pushed up against one of your work tables, and seonghwa is standing before her holding her waist like she could slip away at any moment. they're making out like they've done this before, and you clear your throat to get their attention.

"hi," seonghwa mewls. "this isn't what it looks like."

"looks like two of my employees are goofing off when they should be doing their jobs," you mumble, wandering around the studio. "jen, where are san's shoes?"

"um, by the door?" she guesses. "i didn't see his outfit in here, so i didn't know where to put them."

"it's in my office," you respond. "that's why i took him in there."

"i didn't know," she shrugs. you find the shoes and then glare at them, but neither one takes you seriously.

"seonghwa, your outfit is labeled with your name. it's an easy piece, simple closures, so you shouldn't need any help getting it on," you explain. "jen, come here. we have a problem."

"holy shit, you look awesome," jen says as soon as she sees san. she looks at you and asks, "what's wrong with it?"

"his chest is too broad," you frown again, staring at san's chest. "i can't get the jacket to close."

"he can't hold it when he walks?" jen suggests, and san tries it out. you start shaking your head before he finishes, and he actually whines when he sees your reaction.

"no, it's gonna fall off your shoulders if you do that," you say. "i want it to stay in place, and i need the clasp to work for that to happen."

"so what are you gonna do?" jen asks.

"not sleep until i fix it?" you reply. you look at her in defeat and add, "i don't know what else i can do."

"can i help?" san offers, but you shake your head again as jen says, "yes, you can." you try to protest, but she cuts you off.

"he can cut the initial shreds!" she offers. "then you do your magic putting them into the jacket. it takes out a step for you so hopefully it'll be quicker."

"what she said," san butts in. "let me help, please."

"i can't pay you for your extra time," you say softly. "i don't want to impose-"

"don't care," san shakes his head. "i've got nothing else going on."

"perfect!" jen claps her hands together. "you two figure that out, i'm gonna check on hwa..."

-

the rest of the fitting goes well. it's perfect, actually. you have the best models you've ever worked with, every piece fits, and the collection looks beautiful all together. you tear up watching them all walk before you, and the piece san is wearing literally makes a hush fall over the room. he still walks toward you with a wink, but this time it doesn't affect you as much. you're too focused on how much time it'll take to add a couple more inches to the coat. when san finishes, everyone looks to you expectantly, and it takes jen calling your name for your mind to catch up with your mouth.

"i don't know what to say," you admit. "you all did an amazing job, and this was just a fitting! imagine what this show will look like on a real stage. um, a couple things to note..."

once you finish your boss spiel, the models all start changing and leave one by one. you make sure to thank them all before they leave, and in a few minutes it's just you, jen, and san left.

"seonghwa didn't wanna stick around?" you ask jen.

"you scared him," she replies. "he left so fast i'm surprised he didn't leave a trail of smoke."

"i'll talk to him," you brush it off. "keep your paws off him in my studio though."

"no promises," jen sighs, gathering her things. "i need to go get another pair of heels for our tall girl, so do you need anything else from me before i go?"

"a hug?" you think. "i couldn't have done this without you."

"she loves me!" jen says to san, and he smiles encouragingly.

"you two are amazing," san says. "i don't know how just two people put together such a stunning show."

"lots of work," you say.

"i cried a few times," jen adds.

"we both did," you conclude. "but it was fun, so it was worth it. right?"

"fun, sure!" jen agrees.

"get out of here," you push her playfully. "please rest. no boys."

"you too," jen wags her finger at you. then to san, "don't let her work too hard!"

"i'll try my best," he salutes her, and jen leaves with a laugh. he turns to you and asks, "what can i help with?"

"i need to buy more fabric," you think. "so if you want to grab food while i-"

"no, we'll both grab food, and then fabric," san decides. "or fabric then food. either way, i'm buying your lunch."

"but-"

"nope," he pulls you into his side and walks toward the door. "can't work hard on an empty stomach!"

-

you find yourself enjoying san's company more than you were expecting. he's easy to talk to, easy to laugh with, and he's so kind. he insisted on buying your lunch, even though that was going to be your payment to him for helping. he even tried to buy the extra fabric, claiming it's his fault you had to buy more anyway. you get back to your studio, smiles on both your faces, and get to work.

"so we need these in strips about an inch wide," you explain as you lay a few yards of fabric out on a work table. "tear them into strips, then we'll cut them in half, and then i can start shredding and adding them to the coat. sound good?"

"got it, captain," san nods. "how many do you need?"

"i don't know yet," you make a face. "you're a big guy."

"i'm just so strong," san rolls his eyes, flexing a little bit as he does.

"stop that," you laugh. "get to work. you want music on?"

"yeah, whatever you wanna listen to," san says as he straightens the fabric. you watch as he measures carefully, taking the fabric cutter over the material slowly. he holds up his first strip, looking to you for approval. "is this good?"

"perfect," you tell him. "now make like a thousand more."

"what are you gonna do while i work, hm?" san asks. "i've got a lot to do and you're just gonna watch me?"

"gotta make sure you're doing it right," you reply. "but i need to pack up some of these other pieces, they're getting shipped to the venue in the morning. my least favorite part of the job."

"how many shows have you done now?" san asks, and you fall into comfortable conversation with him while you work. you get most of the collection packed up before you know it, so you walk over to his table to check on his progress.

"not bad for a model," you say as you inspect the pieces. "you could make a mean designer's assistant."

"you in the market for one?" san asks, and you notice how close you are. he's a little taller than you, so all you'd have to do is stand on your toes and- "what are you thinking about?"

"what?" you whisper, taking a step back. san's hand catches your waist, holding you in place.

"what were you thinking about, just now?" he asks again. "you were staring."

"you're a model, i'd expect you'd be used to everyone staring at you," you whisper back.

"you're not everyone," he says softly. his eyes flit down to your lips, and before you can think you lean in and kiss him. it's quick, barely a touch, but you kissed him, and his hand on your waist tightens. when you look up at him, he's blushing. "what was that for?"

"um, for helping me with your outfit?" you reply.

"anything else you need my help with?" san smirks.

"san, i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that," you whisper.

"yeah, you pulled back too quickly," he pouts.

"no," you laugh shyly. "no, um, i have a rule that i don't mess around with my models."

"got it," san sighs. "bummer, but i understand."

"i should start shredding these," you say, grabbing a pile of fabric. san's still holding onto you though, so you look at him expectantly. "you gonna let me go?"

"you don't mess with models, ever?" san asks. "or is it just models that are working for you?"

"um, the second one," you think. "but san-"

"then we'll talk about this again when the show is over," san says with finality. "i don't mind waiting."

"as long as you can keep things professional," you tell him.

"says the one who kissed me," san teases.

"whatever," you roll your eyes. "i'm gonna go work on the jacket."

"um, do you think these are enough strips for now?" san asks sheepishly. "i actually have to leave for an audition..."

"my god," you look at the time. "please, go. i'm sorry i kept you for so long."

"i'll come back when i'm done," san says like it's nothing. "i don't really want this show anyway, but my agent booked it, so i have to go."

"that's good to hear," you mumble. "because i don't like sharing."

"make sure you take a break while i'm gone," san points at you accusingly.

"go to your audition," you say as you walk to your office. "i'll be here when you get back."

-

san thinks about you the whole time he's gone. he breezes through the audition and gets an offer before he leaves, but after being in your show this designer seems scattered, unprofessional, and just not as good as you. his collection is fine, but it's nothing impressive. san can't wait to get back to your studio and see the progress on your coat, but when he knocks at the door there's no response. he waits, tries again, and still nothing. he tries the door and it opens easily, so san wanders in calling out your name. he doesn't see you in the work room, but there's a light on in your office.

"y/n?" he calls, stopping at the door when he sees you slumped over your desk, snoring softly. he looks at the mannequin next to you and lets out a gasp. it's more dramatic now with more fabric, and san thinks briefly it'll be even heavier to wear. he doesn't care though. right now, he's more concerned about getting you to someplace you can rest.

"you're back," you mumble, sitting up as you rub your eyes. "i fell asleep."

"i see that," san chuckles. he walks over to you and holds his arms out. "come on, we gotta get you home."

"what are you doing?" you ask, letting out a shriek when san picks you up. you hit his back weakly, but he carries you out of your office, through your studio, turning lights off as he goes.

"where's your bag?" san asks. you point and he carries you still, handing your things to you before doing a sweep of the studio. "ready to go?"

"where are we going?" you mumble into his shoulder. "i was sleeping just fine-"

"i'm taking you home," san says. "you need to sleep in a bed. not hunched over your desk."

"why are you being so nice to me?" you whisper as you nuzzle into him further. he doesn't reply, but you wouldn't hear it anyway. you drift off in his arms, only waking up when san slides you into the passenger seat of his car.

"you know how to get home from here, sleepyhead?" san asks as he ruffles your hair. you type your address into your phone, handing it to him before he closes the door carefully to rush to the driver's side. he laughs nervously when he sits down and finds you staring, so he asks, "what? too much?"

"i really want to kiss you again," you admit.

"but you can't," san coos. "remember your silly rules?"

"hmph, i was gonna say screw my rules, but then you made fun of me, so-"

"no, no i take it back!" san cries, but you turn and lay your head against the window. you smile to yourself as san begs you to turn back around, giggling as he tugs on your arm. you pretend to snore and san gives up, but his hand has moved from tugging your arm to just holding your hand. you stay like that the whole way home.

-

the runway show is tomorrow. you still aren't done with san's jacket. and you still aren't sure what to do since you kissed him. jen has ideas, though.

"climb him like a tree," she tells you for the nth time as she helps you unpack outfits at the venue. "he sooo wants you. and you sooo want him."

"doesn't matter who wants who," you mumble as you try to hold at least three pins by your teeth. you're securing a new zipper to your favorite dress. it wouldn't be a runway show without things falling apart last minute, and you could have punched a wall when you unpacked this dress to find the zipper literally holding on by a thread.

"the show is tomorrow, y/n," jen says sternly. "you can't hide behind your silly 'no models' rule for much longer."

"i won't," you assure her. she looks at you surprised, but she can't ask any follow ups because there are voices coming from the entrance.

"hello?" seonghwa calls out. you yell back that you're backstage, and when he appears he immediately finds jen to pull her into a hug.

"what are you doing here?" you ask him. "you don't have a fitting today."

"i brought him for moral support," san says from behind you. he's so close, and you didn't hear him come up, so it makes you jump. his hands fly to your waist, trying to soothe you, but the touch makes you jump too. "why are you so skittish?"

"i'm stressed," you respond, stepping away so you can find his coat. you look over your shoulder as you tell him, "the jacket still isn't done."

"what?" he whines. "do i need to tear more fabric?"

"no," you laugh. "just come here." he joins you further among the mess that is your collection, following closely behind you through the maze of clothing racks. you stop by his mannequin, turning to find him still incredibly close to you. "it just needs a clasp. as long as you didn't get broader over night."

"no promises," he smirks before pulling his shirt off. "can you help me get it on?"

"you've never needed my help before," you frown as you try avoid staring at his chest.

"yeah well, it's like ten pounds heavier now," san says. "and i'm just so weak..."

"bullshit," you laugh, helping him lift the coat anyway. you hold one side for him while he slips his arm in, then help him hold onto the other. "ok, stay here." you scurry off to get your sewing kit, and san finds jen's gaze through the clothes. she gives him a thumbs up and an exaggerated wink, and he stifles a laugh as you come back. you're holding more pins between your teeth, and san cries out. "what?"

"that can't be safe," he says as he reaches for one, but ends up pricking himself. "ouch."

"no touching," you mumble. "and hold the jacket like this." you guide his hands to hold the coat in place, and san watches intently as you work. you have to hand sew extra buttons on to support the new weight, so it takes a while. san tries to talk to you, but he's so worried about the pins in your mouth he can't focus.

"let me hold these," he grumbles, carefully pulling a pin from your lips. he takes the rest and cups them in his hand, accidentally pricking himself again. "ouch."

"that's what you get," you laugh. "you didn't have to hold them for me, i'm an expert at this by now."

"yeah, but if you had pins in your mouth, i couldn't do this," san says as he uses his free hand to cup your chin. he looks down at you with a smile before he kisses you. he kisses you and holds you against him, his lips so soft on yours. you sigh into the kiss, lost in the feeling of having him so close to you. you can feel his heart beating in his chest, and your hand that had been gripping the coat falls to his warm skin. you push him away, a little gasp on your lips when it hits you what's happened.

"what happened to being ok with waiting?" you ask him, and his head falls to your neck, leaving one kiss against your skin before he pulls back.

"i forgot," he whispers.

"well remember at least until i finish these buttons," you tell him.

"and then what?"

"then you gotta show me your walk," you say. the way you look up at him makes san want to kiss you again, but he does his best to refrain. you hold your hand out for the pins, and you put them back in your sewing kit as you say, "in a few minutes, your coat will finally be done."

"can't wait," san hums, his hands back to holding the jacket in place. "but i admit i'll miss having a reason for you to be so close to me."

"i'm sure you'll find more," you mumble, focusing on the last button. when it's sturdy enough to hold weight, you try securing the jacket together just enough for it to stay on san's shoulders. "hands off," you instruct, and san moves his hands from the coat to your shoulders. "hands to yourself."

"aw," he pouts. you start to walk away and he follows, but you tell him to stay put.

"stay there, then walk toward me," you direct him. "i wanna see how it moves now."

"you want me to go full model mode?" san asks. "can you handle it?"

"just show me," you groan, and the cocky grin on san's face should've warned you. it's like he changes into another person, his demeanor completely different. you realize now that the san you know is not model san, because the man before you is...intimidating? you almost back up as he walks toward you, his gait powerful and his stare petrifying. everything is so dramatic and the movement matches the coat perfectly. he still winks at you as he comes closer and turns, moving the coat so each layer of fabric, each shred explodes into an arc before you. san finishes his walk, turning over his shoulder with a shy smile on his face. he's back to the san you know as he asks, "how was that?"

"you're perfect," you stammer out, mimicking your words from the first time san walked for you. "for the collection. for this piece. everything. this is exactly what i imagined."

"good," his smile widens. "and the weight isn't too bad. it's distributed better now."

"good," you cough, trying to calm yourself down. watching that made everything real to you. this show is happening tomorrow. your nerves are hitting you now, and san can tell.

"are you ok?" he asks, rushing to your aide. he looks like he's going to pull you into a hug when you hear jen calling for you somewhere, and you disappear before san gets a chance.

-

the hours leading up to the show are a blur. in the hours leading up to the show, you are a blur. you don't stay still for more than a few minutes at a time. there's just so much for you to do, so many people to talk to, and so many people that need your help. a stylist asking your opinion. a model with loose threads down her back. a man with pleading eyes that you know is watching you from afar, ready to jump in if you collapse from nerves, or exhaustion, or both. you find jen at the accessories table, helping a model find bangles that won't fall off her arm as she walks. you grab onto jen, leaning in closely to rest your head against hers.

"i'm so tired," you whine. "and scared. and sweaty."

"ew, then get off me," jen pushes you away playfully. she finishes up with the model and sends her away before asking, "are you ok though? really?"

"why did i think dressing san without a shirt would be a good idea?" you whisper to her, watching him as he laughs with seonghwa about something. it's like he can feel your eyes on him, because he looks toward you and winks.

"because it is a good idea," jen says. "and he's not gonna be shirtless for long. you need to go help him into the coat, the show's about to start."

"shit," you curse, checking the time. "i have so much to do-"

"wait!" jen shouts, holding you in place. "something's missing."

"my will to go on?"

"no, you need lipstick," jen decides. she digs into the bag at her hip and finds the perfect pink shade for you. it matches your dress (that you designed) and it matches the warm pinks that you sprinkled into the collection. "there. you're ready."

"no i'm not," you mumble. "i didn't get to practice my welcome speech."

"go practice it with san!" jen pushes you in his direction. "five minutes!"

your palms get sweaty the closer you get to san. you're not sure if it's him, or the running countdown in your head reminding you that your show is about to happen. when you finally make it to san, he's alone, and he's smiling at you nervously.

"time for the coat?" he asks. you nod, and he follows you to the mannequin in the back. "how do you feel?"

"like i'm gonna pass out."

"i'll catch you," san jokes.

"arms up please," you squeak out. he helps you lift the coat silently, sliding into it like it's the most comfortable thing in the world. "and just let me secure it..."

"y/n," san whispers. "look at me." you don't listen, fussing over the buttons instead. you're smoothing out the warm pink fabric as san's hands cover yours, stilling them over his chest. "breathe for a second."

"i'm freaking out," you admit, looking up at him. "i have to go out there, and do a speech, and then watch my clothes, my life for the past year, all be judged by these strangers, and-"

"and you've done it before, and you survived," san smiles softly. "you're pretty great at this, in case you didn't know."

"but-"

"nope," he shakes his head. "it'll be great."

"it will," you say unsurely.

"say it like you mean it."

"the show will be great," you declare, and san squeezes your hands before he lets them go.

"and then after the show..." san trails off, and you feel your heart start to race. "i don't know, maybe i could take you out to celebrate?"

"san, i can't think about that right now," you shake your head. "i can't-"

the stage manager starts calling out models for the line up, and san looks away sadly. he nods like he's got his answer and starts to walk away, but you pull him back. you don't say anything, just cup his chin and leave a delicate kiss on his cheek.

"we'll talk after the show," you whisper. the stage manager calls for him again, and he looks at you one more time before he leaves. you let out a nervous breath, checking your reflection in the vanity next to you. it's now or never. you walk up to the side of the stage, and your heart drops to your ass. something is wrong.

"what's going on?" you hiss, walking up to find make up artists swarming san. "this can't be happening."

"you did this," one of the artists whisper shouts back, pointing to san's cheek. fuck. the lipstick. your lipstick left a bright pink mark on his skin. "we don't have time to fix it!"

"then don't," san shrugs. "i like it."

"y/n?" the stage manager looks at you. "we have one minute. are we fixing this?"

"uh, n-no," you stammer, and the crowd disperses, leaving you and san again. "here, i can wipe it-"

"don't," san swats your hands away. "now i'll have a piece of you with me while i walk."

"you're wearing my clothes, you already had a piece of me with you," you tell him.

"yeah, but this one's just for me," he smiles. "plus the lipstick matches my jacket."

"y/n, you're on!" jen grabs you, a gleeful look on her face. "oh, your lipstick is smudged."

"i don't know how you planned that, but i hate you for it," you say as you try to hide your smile.

"i just thought it would be a cute touch for photos later," she smiles as she fixes the smudge and reapplies more. "i didn't know you'd go around kissing him, marking your territory."

"that's not what i did," you blush.

"we don't have time to argue about this," she pushes you toward the stage entrance. "go be great!"

-

you're able to introduce the collection without tripping or fumbling over your words, so you'll call that a win. even bigger win: the collection is a hit. each piece got the reaction you wanted, but the show stopper was definitely san. the crowd hushed when he walked out, and they went wild when he got to the end of the runway with his flourish move he showed you the other night. as you watch the show backstage, you blush when you see the lipstick mark shining under the bright lights.

it ends up being a hit, almost as much as the coat itself. fashion bloggers lauded it as a perfect touch, basically sealing the collection with a kiss. they also speculated about your relationship with san, which certainly wasn't helped by the fact that he held your hand tightly in his as the collection walked the runway all together. san lifted your hand in triumph as you made it to the end of the stage, and he lets go, stepping back so you can have your moment. you soak it in as long as you can take, then scurry back to his side and grab his hand as you run backstage. he lifts you into a hug as soon as the curtain closes behind you, surrounded by cheers and models talking about how great the show was.

"put me down!" you squeal, swatting at san's chest so he'll let you go. "i need to talk to everybody."

"you can do it from up there," san says. you don't think you'll win this one, and he's right. it might be easier to address your models and your team from a few inches higher up.

"first of all, thank you," you say sincerely. "i wouldn't have a show without you all, and i had the best show because of you all. so thank you. if i could make you all vow to only ever work with me forever until the end of time, i would, but that's not ethical. so instead i'll say: you all have a spot in any show i do for the rest of my career. thank you. thankyouthankyouthankyou."

the crowd thins out as models get undressed, artists pack up their things, and the stage crew follows everyone around to remind them to clean up after themselves. miraculously, you and san are alone again.

"so," he hums. "i walked good?"

"you didn't trip," you nod.

"everyone loved it," san smiles.

"they loved you," you say, busying yourself with straightening the coat again.

"all i care about is what you thought."

"i've told you already," you start. "you're perfect."

"you say that, but earlier i think you were about to turn me down," san laughs nervously.

"what?" you're confused. "oh, i didn't finish. i was gonna say i can't go out with you tonight, but i'm free tomorrow."

"tomorrow? you'd make me wait so long?" san smirks.

"i have a business dinner to go to tonight," you explain. "so unless you wanna be my arm candy for the people who sponsored the show, then yes, you have to wait so long."

"i'm good at being arm candy," san says. "it's basically my job."

"fine," you shrug. "then put a shirt on and come with me?"

[wabatle]

cute scenarios that happened in your relationship before featuring: Reo, Bachira, Rin warnings: reader is prob implied fem a/n: idk i just wanted to write these specific three. i just love them. lmk if I should do a part two with more characters!

Reo Mikage: Teaching you how to slow dance.

“Baby,” He called you, gently placing his hand on your cheek. “I'm bored.”

“Then what do you want to do?” You asked.

“I don't know.” He sighed, flopping down on the bed. He hummed. “Do you know how to slow dance?”

“Huh?”

“Slow dancing. Like what they do in movies?”

“Oh, that? I don't know how to do that, no.”

“Can I teach you?”

“If you want.”

Reo pulled you up off of the bed.

“Now, you put your hand here,” He took your hand and put it on his shoulder. “and then we hold hands here…” He put his one free hand on your waist. “And then this hand goes here.”

“Am I doing it right?” You asked nervously.

“You’re doing it perfectly, love.” He responded. “Now, do you know what steps to take?”

“…No.”

He chuckled. “Then I'll show you.”

Slowly, but surely, you were able to learn how to slow dance, with the help of Reo.

“Then, just like this?” You asked.

“Exactly like that!” He assured you. “You’re good at this, (name)!”

You looked so cute. He loved it. He loves teaching you these types of things, and you love being taught them because Reo gets so excited to be able to teach you these things.

Meguru Bachira: Painting together.

“Oh wow, babe! That looks really pretty!” Bachira told you, patting your back.

“Really? I don’t think it’s that good.”

“No, it is! It’s pretty! I’ll frame it and hang it up once it’s dry!” He said, kissing your cheek.

“Thank you, babe!” You thanked him happily, your heightened confidence allowing you to be more risky with your paint job.

“Hmm… What color should I use next, baby?” Bachira asked you.

“Um, I think yellow would look good there.” You replied.

“Ah, you’re right! Why didn’t I think of that?” As he painted the yellow on the canvas, you noticed some of the paint splattered onto his cheek. Of course, you both had paint on you, as you had been painting for a little while now.

“Meguru, you have paint on your face.”

“Huh?” He tried to rub the paint off of his face, but he ended up smearing more paint on his cheek.

“No, you just rubbed more on!” You giggled. You set your paintbrush down and took his hand. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

“Ah, you have paint on your face too, baby!” He announced, starting to giggle himself.

“What? No way!”

Once you made it to the bathroom, Bachira poked your cheek. “See? There’s paint. Right there!”

Then, you both took turns wiping the paint off of the other’s face for almost ten minutes.

Rin Itoshi: Needs your cuddles at the end of a rough day.

“Welcome home, Rin.” You greeted Rin in a kind voice as he walked through the door. You had been working on making dinner, and it smelled amazing.

Rin let out a loud sigh and wrapped his arms around your waist. “The food smells good.”

You continued to season the raw chicken in front of you, staying unfazed by the man clinging to your waist. “How was your day?”

“Better now that I’m home.”

“Well, we’ll have some time before I have to get the chicken out of the oven.” You said, placing the tray into the oven. You set the timer and let Rin lead you to the couch.

You sat down and Rin plopped his head on your shoulder. He sighed again.

“You alright, baby?” You asked him.

“I’m tired.” He pulled you closer. “I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, well, now you’re home and can relax.” You put a hand on his head.

“I missed you today,” He breathed.

“I missed you too.”

By the time the oven timer went off, Rin was asleep on your shoulder. Obviously you didn’t want to wake him up. But you also didn’t want to ruin the dinner you had worked hard to prepare for him.

“Rin,” You whispered. “I need to get up.”

He reluctantly moved, but you could see the tiredness on his face.

“You owe me now,” He called to you.