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sadesluvr · 1 month

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Sins of the Flesh

The one where a religious housewife fights temptation with her gardener.

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

A/N: Second JJ fic! (I haven't forgotten about The Hills!!) This was based off of Charlotte & Trey’s marriage in Sex and the City, specifically the episode where she kisses her gardener! Also, based off Gaby & John in Desperate Housewives, but less weird. Reader is literally the both of them combined, with religious guilt turned up to 100. Check the tags before reading, and minors DNI.

This is a long one, so the ending is a little rushed…Enjoy!

Also credit to @starfxkr and @dulc3vida for their lamb! readers which was a big inspo 🫶🏼✨

Word Count: 5K

Tags: SMUT / Slow burn / Themes of religion / Blasphemy / Infidelity / Cuckolding / Religious guilt / Lots of discussion about pregnancy / Misogyny, kinda / Kook! Reader / Moments of soft! JJ / Unprotected sex / Oral sex, F receiving / Creampies / Corruption & Religion kink / Dirty talk (JJ is a yapper)

Gif by @cyberpunkes !

Your dreams always started off the same.

The sun peeked through the sheer linen curtains, warm rays tickling your nose as it whispered to you that dawn had arrived. Gently, you brushed the sleep away from your eyes as you writhed amongst your silk white sheets, morning breeze making your sensitive nipples harden ever so slightly. As you awoke from your slumber, you stroked the opposite side of your bed, frowning as you found it to be empty.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, glancing around the room in search of something familiar. The hand carved dresser in the opposite corner? Check. Your Bible on the nightstand? Check. The soft, distant cries of a baby from another room? Unfamiliar.

It was always then that you’d wake up, coming to realise that your dream wasn’t so far from reality after all.

You lived on Figure Eight, a place where only the wealthiest and most desirable citizens resided in white palaces with acres of greenery surrounding them. Of course you were no exception; having married an heir to an automotive company just under a year ago.

It wasn’t as if you were unfamiliar to a life of luxury - you’d been born a preacher's daughter right up until you’d become a wife - and had always been told that God had intended for you to be more fortunate than those around you. Yes, you worshipped the crucifix, but yours had always been diamond encrusted. It was just what God wanted.

Much more than anything else, it was your duty to continue his wish by remaining a virgin until you were married, and subsequently continuing the lineage with children of your own.

Apparently, that part did not come as easy.

Hank, your husband, had insisted that it was nothing more than a case of trying, yet at every turn seemed to fail. You’d begun to have a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t a problem on your end, but his, despite his growing insistence otherwise.

Each passing day meant that your biological clock ticked away, and it was weighing on you that you were failing at the one thing you’d given most of your life towards. On days like these, the only thing that brought you peace was your garden, its lush greens and vibrant purples reminding you of the hours spent at the community garden of the chapel of your fathers church.

Things, whilst relatively breezy, just weren’t so simple anymore.

Gasping, you tightened your baby pink robe around your body as you dragged yourself out of bed, hoping to at least greet Hank with a beverage before he went to work.

You practically glided through the house as you made your way along the mahogany floors, down the grand staircase and out of the double doors, careful not to fall down the porch steps as the slight humidity hit you.

Your husband was by the steps, but he didn’t seem alone.

“Honey, I’m sorry, I —-“

You paused once you realised he was speaking to someone. A young man, with blonde hair, a loose fitting tee and shorts, was sitting on the stairs - as if he were being told off - his face seemingly lethargic and uninterested. You caught his eye as he angled to face you, and he quickly adjusted his cap, shifting the brim around so that he could see you clearer.

You flashed him a brief, somewhat uncomfortable smile before you were pulled into a side hug, with Hank placing a kiss to your lips.

“You were asleep, I didn’t want to wake you,” Hank said softly. “We did get rather rowdy last night, didn’t we?” he murmured, and you patted his chest, not wanting an outsider to hear of such unsavoury things.

“This is the time, I feel it,” he announced before nodding at the blonde. “That’s why I’ve hired a gardener. Now I know you love your plants, and you can still go about the little things, but all that labour just isn’t going to work.” he told you. “We need you in top condition, especially once the baby arrives. The smallest things can affect our chances, you know.” he finished, and you nodded.

There was certainly no denying that Hank was a good husband. What man would want their young wife out in the North Carolina sun for upwards of two hours a day? Not to mention all of the wild plants that could’ve lurked. Even if you weren’t yet pregnant, it just made sense, right?

“I’ve given him a basic rate,” he said, adjusting his tie before lowering his voice. “Money’s on the table and our valuables are in the safe. He’s one of those Pogues…just watch him, you know how they are.” Hank warned quietly, but loud enough to assert dominance.

With a final kiss he was off, and you were left with the strange Pogue boy on the front porch. As odd as it sounded, perhaps the boy’s presence would be a blessing, for as much as you loved solitude, it was rather lonely at times. You supposed it would give you something to do.

“Blink twice if you need help,” a cool voice said, causing you to whip your head towards it. You hadn’t noticed that the blonde had been staring at you, nor that you’d been momentarily zoned out.

“Kidding, I know how you Kooks operate…” he said, vaguely judgmental as he stood to his feet. Even though he was on the step below you, you couldn’t help but notice that he was bigger than you, in height and muscle, making you step back in shock and bunching your robe up in your hands.

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Lady. I’m just here for the money. ‘Names JJ by the way,” he said, and you were surprised to see him stick out his hand.

Regaining your senses, you shook it back, giving him your name and a soft smile. He didn’t respond, instead allowing for a smirk to appear across his face before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“So, uh, where d’ya want me to start?”

༼ ♰ ༽

The first time you’d had an unsavoury encounter with JJ Maybank had actually been later that day. The boy hadn’t been shy - in the slightest - about staring at you, peeking over the bushes as he watched you prune your bonsai on the deck, face as close as possible to its leaves as you made sure it was immaculate. Unfortunately, this had meant that you were hunched over, giving the blonde a view of the top of your cleavage; not enough to be considered adulterous, but enough to tempt him into some lewd thoughts.

You’d made eye contact with him, and he’d made no effort to break it with yours, instead smirking and flashing you a disingenuous nod. Pursing your lips, you remembered the look in his eye; as if he were trying to figure you out and yet simultaneously seeing right through you. Being a preacher's daughter, it was a look you’d been given a thousand times before, and yet you’d never been so unsure of its intentions until now. Perhaps it was because he was a Pogue boy, and you were a Kook housewife, alone in a house together whilst your husband was at least an hour away. You’d heard all the stories about their savagery; how life in The Cut was so brutal that everyone was on edge, just waiting for an opportunity to go off.

What was JJ capable of? Would you be a good enough wife and Catholic to withstand it?

More importantly, why did it worry you so?

“...The bush is lovely, by the way.”

His voice drew you from your thoughts.

“Excuse me?” you blinked.

“Your bush,” JJ said with a grin, pointing to the plant in front of you. “It’s all nice and shit. It’s trimmed perfectly,” he mused. “Either you’ve got a lot of time or you just have magic hands…That’s because of all your Jesus stuff, right?”

You sucked in a breath.

“I adore plants,” you said rather bluntly. “They keep me busy.”

“Funny. I usually prefer to smoke mine…I guess you don’t have much going on anyway,” he continued, dropping the hedge scissors to his side as he stopped his motions, giving you his full attention. “Other than what? Look pretty and have babies? You Kooks are swimming in so much you don’t even know where to begin —“

“Are you rather done?” You interjected, ignoring the fact that he’d complimented you. “We’re not paying you to talk.”

JJ chuckled and scratched the back of his head, seemingly enjoying your outburst.

“Hey,” he shrugged. “What your old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

༼ ♰ ༽

The other time came after a particularly strenuous lunch with Hank’s parents at the country club. As expected, you were met with the question of grandchildren, to which all you could do was nod and drink your sweet tea, insisting that you were “praying to God”. Of course, that wasn’t an entire lie within itself, but the nature of your prayer was much more defamatory to their very son - something that would make your father’s head spin with utter disgust if he’d ever heard. All of the trying, near misses and downright failures were beginning to take a toll on you, and the deepest, most hidden parts of yourself were questioning whether you wanted a baby at all.

Sighing, you remembered how you barely had had a break, as the moment you’d taken your heels off JJ had arrived - surprisingly on time - ready to get to work. It had seemed like he’d just come from the beach; his signature cap jumbled around his blonde locks and his button up rather undone, exposing his toned chest. Whether it had been from the droplets of the ocean, or beads of sweat from the long journey up, you found yourself strangely enticed by the condensation on his chest, only visible when illuminated by the sun, as if it were his own spotlight.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” JJ nodded, flashing you one of his signature cheeky smiles. You mustered a soft, vaguely curt smile, instead taking interest in his necklace.

“Shark tooth,” he said, watching you with wide eyes. “I think it’s pretty cool, but I don’t think it would match with your getup…Those things eat girls like you alive,” he finished, running his tongue over his lips as he let out a smooth hum.

Surprisingly, you laughed.

“I’m not a girl, JJ,” you insisted. “I’m a woman,”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, shifting his weight as he glanced at you, a distant, but glossy look in his eye. “You may be married, but you’re still just a little girl playing make-believe…You and I both know something’s missing.” he finished assuredly, cocking a brow knowingly.

Instead, you bit the inside of your cheek and shook your head.

“Nothing’s missing,” you said through gritted teeth. “And even if it were, it’s between me and my husband.”

“And God?”

You tutted.

“And God.”

You could hear him chuckle at this, and imagined his cheeky smile as you turned to make your way into the house, with JJ following after you, parting off into the garden as you disappeared into another room.

You didn’t know how long later; perhaps thirty minutes or five, but you found yourself by the window to the back door, watching JJ through the sheer curtains as you took in his physique, specifically his lithe fingers and firm grip as they pushed the lawnmower. For some reason, he’d stripped his shirt off, and there was no denying that the sight was making you forget about your terrible afternoon, much more causing a tingling in your loins. You knew all too well that it was the feeling of sin.

Distracted, you hadn’t realised that JJ had caught you looking. He grinned, nodding his head in your erection before he hunched over the handle, flexing his chest muscles in the process.

“I hope you don’t mind, it's pretty hot out here,” he shrugged, a brazen glimmer in his eye before he glanced down at his body, and back up at you. “Plus, I know you liked the look of my necklace, so…”

༼ ♰ ༽

“This is the third smoke sesh you’ve almost missed,” John B said, brow raised as Sarah nodded. “What’s up with that?”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down on a chair next to Pope and leisurely cracked open a beer. Around him were faces of intrigue; though more concerned if anything (given his nature), and he tapped an index finger on his lips.

“Getting some of that sweet Kook cash, my friend,” he drawled. “You all should try it sometime,”

“Since when do you work overtime?” Kie snorted, cocking her head.

“Since the day I found out that the business dude's wife is a total MILF,” JJ shrugged, rolling a blunt. “And she’s not even pregnant yet!”

Kie and Sarah scoffed and rolled their eyes, with the tanned girl flicking her hair back before she spoke.

“You know she’s only like, 26, 27? Hank’s like 45 or something, it’s kinda weird…” Sarah said leisurely. “She seems sweet though, even if all the other wives are weird about her,”

JJ excitedly slapped the table before raising his hands in victory.

“So I’m in!” He declared before turning to Pope, who was, if not a little uncomfortable, certainly wide eyed. “I’m telling you, man, say the word and I can get you in on this. It’s like those movies, y’know? Except it’s way hotter because she’s like super religious and is practically a virgin…You should see the dresses she wears - oh, man - they’re like all girly and proper…She’s like the First Lady, bro — I’m telling you, I’m like, in love with her —“

Pope shook his head.

“...That’s not love, dude.”

“It’s gotta be, cause we haven’t even hooked up yet,”

“Yet? She’s married!” Kie exclaimed.

“Marriage doesn’t mean shit, trust me,” JJ shrugged, leaning back as his legs bounced uncontrollably. “I’m this close!” he said, making a motion with his fingers.

“Hank will literally kill you!” Pope spluttered. “And by de facto that probably means us too!”

JJ shrugged, thinking of the way the sweetheart neckline of your sundresses clung to your chest and rode ever so slightly up your thigh as you’d sit down.

“Hey, of all the ways I could die, that would definitely not be the worst,”

༼ ♰ ༽

“Did you take it properly?”

“Yes, Hank,” you sighed, masking your frustration as much as possible. “It’s negative. Perhaps we should wait a while, maybe a family isn’t part of our journey yet —“

“Nonsense,” he interrupted, wiping his hand across his mouth. “We’re inviting the pastor over this Sunday and we’re talking this out. It may be embarrassing but…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to him much longer. What more was there to say? You’d tried every diet, been to every specialist and had tried some rather strenuous positions in bed all to knock you up, and yet somehow it was still a problem on your end. Hank was a stubborn man, and no amount of prayer would change that.

Instead, you noticed JJ, leisurely cutting at your rose bush as he listened into your conversation, his head cocked and jaw clenched. He was dressed in one of his vests; the sides split dangerously low as they exposed his muscular arms and toned stomach, and you hated how much you wanted Hank to leave right there and then so he could peel it off and work shirtless. From your usual view by the window you never noticed how impressive his legs were either; how his calves curved perfectly as they rose up and disappeared into the material of his shorts, nor how they rode up slightly when he’d bend down, exposing his large thighs. He reminded you of all those boys - the ‘charlatans’ who, according to your father, only wanted you for one thing.

It was painfully ironic that this was the one thing you were craving.

Hank was still talking - though the subject had inexplicably changed - when you noticed that JJ was staring at his index finger, squeezing it as red liquid oozed from his fingertip. Your eyes widened, and you seized the opportunity to finally send Hank away.

“Bandages are in the bathroom under the stairs,” you said, turning to the blonde, and breaking the older man from his thoughts. JJ nodded and walked off, all under the watchful eye of your husband.

“You shouldn’t let him in there alone,” he murmured, and you sighed, distracting yourself by fixing his collar.

“He’s been with us for three months now…I trust him,” you said softly with a shrug.

Hank grunted.

“Maybe if you stop talking, I could go in there and supervise him.” you said with a soft, inconspicuous chuckle. He seemed to get the point, and you quickly said your goodbyes, sending him off with a custom kiss to his lips. On all the other days you’d done this, it had felt special, but today it was noticeably empty. Perhaps you needed the pastor more than you’d thought.

As expected, JJ hadn’t returned outside, instead leaning over the marble countertops of your island, a bloodied tissue balled up in front of him. He looked a little different than he did in the direct sun; possibly due to the golden haze affecting your vision (and judgement), as the cool tones of the interior made the cerulean of his irises pop just a little more, showing off his pupils, widened under the wanting glaze in his eyes. You never felt scared around JJ - rather the opposite - but his fixed gaze and silence in the moment was particularly ominous.

“...How’s your hand?” you said, clearing your throat.

“Fine,” he mumbled, glancing down at them before looking up. “I’ve had worse,”

��Let me see,” you announced, walking around the island to sit next to him, closing the gap between you. You took his lithe fingers in your own, analysing how red and raw his knuckles were. For a young man, his hands were somewhat aged; likely because of his life as a rogue, which both somewhat scared you and made you sympathise with him more.

Fixating on his finger, you tried to ignore the way he leaned into you, shifting his weight so that he appeared taller, the warm skin of his arms pressing against your own. He smelt fresh, if not admittedly a little musty, and the smell mingled with your own daisy perfume, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’ve got a splinter,” you continued. “This has to be removed or it could get infected —“

“It’s not —“ JJ said defensively, and you cut him off with pleading eyes.

“Please, I insist,”

He softened, nodding his head before you moved around the room to find your first aid kit. You’d done it with such ease; as if you were some kind of Mary Poppins - or better yet the Virgin Mary - and he suddenly couldn’t seem to figure out whether he wanted to take advantage of your kindness, or be on the receiving end of it. As much as his cock throbbed at the idea of fucking the repressed, religious housewife and cucking her POS husband, he couldn’t help but think of all the times he’d fallen - literally and metaphorically - and all the times his ‘dad’ had hit on him, ultimately coming back to how much he’d needed someone to nurse his wounds. In an alternate world, you could’ve been that somebody, but he was lucky enough to have his friends.

Once you'd made your way back to him, you sat down on one of the stools, careful as you handled his slightly swollen finger, going through the motions of wiping it with antiseptic before you began to poke at the skin with tweezers.

Moments passed, and you’d spent it in silence.

“Any luck?” JJ perked up.

You nodded and wiped the tweezers on a section of gauze.

“It’s all out now, just make sure it’s cov—“

“With the baby,” he said, cutting you off. Your blood ran cold, and you dropped his hand, staring him in the eye. Part of you was mortified, no matter how obvious it had been that JJ was listening in earlier.

“That is far too inappropriate to talk about with you,” you stammered.“And it’s really none of your business,”

JJ pursed his lips and flexed his limbs as he watched you scramble. It was as if this were amusing to him.

“My bad,” he snorted. “I just think he’s an asshole, y’know, and you’re so good to me…” he said, pausing to run his tongue over his lips as he stared at you. “Other than the money, why are you with him? Isn’t the whole point of the Bible to be nice to people and stuff?”

Pitifully, you chuckled at his childishness as you shook your head.

“It’s also about being a provider. He loves me, JJ, he really does —“

“Yeah, ‘cause you being a virgin had nothing to do with it…” he spat, causing you to anxiously tug at your crucifix, “He can’t even give you a baby,”

“…I mean, that’s the thing you want most, right? What does it say that he can’t even give that to you?”

The statement rang true in your head as you ran your palms down the sides of your sundress, strangely desperate to hit something. Was that the right emotion? You couldn’t tell; you just knew that your body was hot, your heart racing as the pulse of blood flooded your ears, and there was an inexplicable urge to surrender, even though you wanted to run. You couldn’t even face the boy as you spoke, instead beginning to make your way out of the room.

“JJ…I-I think you should go…” you stammered, burying your face in your hands as you left, the sound of JJ’s boots hitting your marble floors telling you that you weren’t going to be alone anytime soon. He shook his head and bit his lip in frustration as he followed after you into the sunroom.

“Hey, wait — fuck — I didn’t mean —“

“JJ please!” You begged, facing him as your chest heaved and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You shouldn’t have strolled into here; the heat that poured in from the glass was unbearable, and you longed to open the doors and indulge in the feeling of cool air. If you could just do that, perhaps you’d feel better? If not, you’d certainly be seeing the Reverend about a dip in the water of penance.

Either way, everything was too much, and you had no clue about just how much worse things were about to get.

“You’re not crying, are you?”

“No,” you sighed. “I-I just feel awful. I’m a horrible person, I’m going to hell, I –”

You wanted to fight against the fact that JJ had pulled you into a hug, but as you buried your face into his neck you felt otherwise. There was something strangely arousing about his musky smell, and judging by the feeling of his cock against your thigh, he felt the same.

As if you didn’t know that.

“Shh, it’s okay…You’re fine…” he whispered, pulling away to glance down at you, gauging your reaction. “Let me take care of you…”

“JJ, I can’t —“

Your words were swallowed by his kiss; his lips hungry as they attacked your own, whilst his hands invaded your body, planting themselves on your hips before moving down to grope your ass. You let out a soft moan as he gave it a gentle squeeze before he made his way back up to your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. He pulled away, eyes burning into your own longingly, yet still a little dumbfounded; and stayed there, his grip unwavering.

“I’m dying for you, Mama,” he said earnestly, gaze flickering down to your heaving bosom, your crucifix twinkling in the sunlight. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you, ‘kay?”

You nodded as you peeled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, heart pounding as you revealed yourself to a man who was not your husband - and yet it felt like your wedding night all over again.

JJ sucked in a breath as he watched you undress, unable to hide his smirk as he shifted off his shorts with ease and palmed his cock through his boxers. He could see the outline of your nipples peeking through the lacy, baby pink material, and knew that he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself once he had his hands on you. Fuck, he could barely even do it now.

“C’mere,” he commanded, silver rings glistening as he beckoned you over. A heat began to pool in your stomach as you walked over to him; sensually, reverently, skin breaking into goosebumps as his fingers danced along the skin of your back, swiftly unhooking the material of your bra. You were straddling him now, running your fingers through his tousled hair as you kissed him, gently grinding along his clothed cock and making JJ let out a soft groan. He revelled in the feeling of your warm skin against his own, and slid his hands down your body to grasp your hips, pushing them down with gentle force against his pelvis.

“JJ…” you gasped. Your heart fluttered, not ready to accept the fact that you were about to take another man’s cock - one that was longer, and probably far more satisfactory. “It’s –”

He shushed you again.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you…Just let go…”

You couldn’t deny how good the act of dry humping felt, the folds of your aching clit tangible through the sheer material of your panties as his cock traced and embedded on your core; a blob of precum spreading across your inner thighs. JJ’s pink lips were latched onto your nipple, sucking and biting at your skin, determined to leave a mark.

He wanted your husband to see that his property had been defiled - by a Pogue boy no less - all under the watchful eye of God.

After a few moments, he flipped you, your head falling to the other side of the couch as you now found him on top of you, his necklace dangling in your face as he gazed down at you.

“ ‘He ever eaten you out before?” he said snarkily.

“…Huh?”

“Didn’t think so,”

Before you knew it, he’d disappeared between your legs, sliding your panties down in a swift manner and burying his tongue inside of you. He hadn’t given you any warning, but the hot, wet sensation was surprisingly pleasurable.

JJ was touching you like no man had ever before; using his mouth and hands to explore your crevice, flicking and lapping at the obscene amount of juices that coated your folds. You whimpered and gripped a pillow, frantic to find some sense of security - only for JJ to pull it from you, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“Nuh-uh,” he began, his voice muffled. “Fuck the pillow. You hold onto me, baby…” he drawled, a hand sliding under your ass and onto the curve of your lower back to angle you higher; silver rings digging into your skin as he held you there. Biting your lip, you fought the urge to blaspheme and laced your fingers through his hair, digging at his roots as he fucked you with his tongue, searching for that oh-so sweet spot.

“You taste so good, Mama…” JJ cooed, lost in your walls, borderline breathless from the way you were squeezing his head between your thighs and drawing him deeper. “…I bet that pussy feels like heaven,”

Perhaps it was the mention of paradise, but his dirty talk sent you over the edge. It was as if you’d been shocked; as if an electrifying pulse of light had run through you, making your back arch and toes curl, swallowing JJ’s face whole.

It was incredibly obscene.

You’d barely caught your breath when JJ had climbed back up, indulging you in a passionate kiss and smearing your juices all over your face. Tracing your fingers down his spine, you didn’t break eye contact with him as you pushed down his boxers with one hand and palming his aching cock. It was somewhat heavy with a considerable length, and he chuckled as you shut your eyes and said a silent prayer - not only for what you were about to do, but just how much you were going to enjoy it.

“Hold still,” JJ commanded, breaths shaky as he began to push into you. “‘Imma give you what you want baby…Fuck –”

JJ was loud, but you didn’t care.

It was all too overstimulating; from the dull pain that came from your legs spread so pornographically as they dangled off of his shoulders, to the sound of his pelvis slapping against your own as he rutted into you. You left graceful scars along his back as your manicured nails dug into his sun-kissed skin, crawling at him as you begged for him to go deeper.

“You like this, huh? I know Jesus probably wouldn’t be too happy about this, but pretty girls like you deserve to get what they want…Shit…” he groaned, sliding in and out of you with ease. “Besides, if I give you a baby it’s just me being a good neighbour, right?”

A baby.

That had been the whole reason for your foul mood as of late.

Would Hank ever know? Could you explain it away? How could you function with JJ still around? Your family, your friends…God? How could you ever atone for such a sin?

Realistically, none of that mattered now. Especially not when JJ was fucking you like a rabbit; his hair buried in the crook of your neck and his legs bent as he pressed you into the sofa, yearning to consume you.

“JJ…” you whined, “I think I’m gonna –”

“Shit, me too baby,” he groaned. “This pussy is so fucking good…Just swallowing me up ‘n shit — I should’ve started working earlier…”

His balls were slapping against your skin now, and you began to see white as he fucked into you, his tip hitting your sweet spot and making you clench around him, legs trembling as you came. It wasn’t too long until he followed after you, your clear juices mixing with his hot cum as he continued to fuck you, rolling his hips in a slow but sensual manner as he made sure you felt - and were filled - with every inch of him.

Which was why it wasn’t surprising that you found yourself pregnant two weeks later.

#florence writes!!#jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #obx smut #obx x reader #jj maybank x reader smut #catholic! reader #religion kink #obx imagine

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redrose10 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 15!

This one has a lot of ups and downs. I really hope you guys like this chapter. We are getting closer to the end. As always I appreciate all the comments and messages.

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 4, 806

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Tag list: @gimeow @kam9404 @viankiss @baechugff @gaby-93 @kayleefriedchicken @igot7fairlyoddparents @jalexad @drrookie

Entering the passcode into Jimins door lock was harder than you expected in your current state. You weren’t sure what was worse, the pounding headache from the hangover, the pain in your chest from having Yoongi break your heart again, or the nausea in your stomach from the guilt of sleeping with Woo-Sung.

It seemed like a great idea last night. You were upset and hurt and you knew Yoongi really didn’t like him so it seemed like the perfect way to get back at him. But when you woke up in his bed with your dress still half off of your body you felt an immediate sense of regret. You felt like you stooped down to Yoongi’s level. You knew you were better than that.

Dropping your bag by the front door all you wanted to do was take a hot shower and sleep off all of the feelings you were having. To make it worse you were supposed to go over to Yoongi’s later with Woo-Sung, neither men you wanted to see right now.

You felt like the universe was out to get you when you turned the corner finding Jimin and Yoongi sitting at the table talking and sipping on some coffee. Yoongi noticed you first eyeing you up and down with a smirk clearly liking your outfit.

Jimin noticed you next but he didn’t have the same reaction. Instead he snorted at your appearance.

“Rough night?”, he asked.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”, you mumbled beginning to walk away.

“And here I thought I had a terrible time being stuck at the office with your husband for eighteen hours straight, but seems you got me beat.”, he continued.

You stopped suddenly turning to face the two men.

“Wait you both were at the office all day yesterday?”

“Yeah we got there yesterday morning and found out we were about to lose the JYP deal so we spent all day and night in negotiations trying to save it. This tyrant over here wouldn’t even let me leave to go eat. Y/N, I had to starve.”, Jimin dramatically pointed over at Yoongi.

“I really hope you get an Oscar for that performance. I told you that you couldn’t go get lunch because Han from JYP was supposed to contact us back at any minute for a conference call. Did you forget that afterwards I ordered you a very nice steak dinner AND then got you late night pizza when you were still hungry?”, Yoongi rolled his eyes.

He then turned his attention over to you, “I’m sorry I didn’t call Y/N. I was just so stressed about this whole thing. That would’ve been a multimillion dollar loss so I had to stay really focused until we were able to save it.”

You nodded which only made your headache and nausea even worse. Suddenly you weren’t in the sleeping mood.

“Jimin can I talk to you about something please. Like right now. In private.”

The two men gave you a questioning look before Jimin pushed himself away from the table and followed you to your current room.

“What’s going on? You seem really off.”, he asked while you shut the door.

“Jimin I need you to be 100% completely honest with me. Did Yoongi leave the office at any point yesterday?”

You checked your phone to see what time Mrs. Chan had called as she said she’d seen Yoongi ten minutes beforehand.

“Were you with him at around three in the afternoon?”

He looked at you with a confused look.

“Yoongi got there at his normal time in the morning and that’s when he got the message that the JYP deal was falling apart. We spent the entire day in his office. Luckily he has that in suite bathroom or he probably would’ve just handed me an empty bottle. We were on a call with someone from JYP around 3. We finally left at about 2am and he wanted to come here and see you and then you weren’t here so we just stayed awake to wait for you. I was with him the entire time and he never left the room.”

You sat on the edge of the bed and pulled your knees up to your chest. “Oh no oh no oh no. I can’t believe this. Jimin what did I do? Why did I believe that crazy old woman?”

“Y/N what’s going on? What did you do?”

You shook your head, “I fucked up. I just ruined everything.”

“Hey hey just calm down. What happened?”

“Our neighbor called me yesterday to complain about Yoongi and Suri making out in the hallway of the apartment building. I asked her if she was sure it was Yoongi and she said yes. She could even smell his cologne. So I got really upset and did something so stupid. I went over to Woo-Sungs and got pretty drunk and ended up sleeping with him. I’m so awful. I’m not that kind of person. And Yoongi has been trying so hard to fix everything and change and I just went and blew it in one night.”

You expected your best friend to hug you, maybe wipe your tears, and offer some comforting words. You didn’t expect him to double over in laugher right in front of you though.

“What the hell Jimin? It’s not funny.”

“Yes it is Y/N. It really is. You really don’t remember anything do you?”

You shook your head. He took a seat next to you and continued, “Woo-Sung called Yoongi last night while we were at the office. He said you showed up to his place already pretty tipsy complaining about how your neighbor told you about Yoongi and Suri making out in the hallway. Before he could stop you, you grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the counter and took a few big swigs. You got pretty drunk off of it and then moments later you tried removing your dress, but only got the straps off when you tripped because your shoes were too big and then you started crying. Woo-Sung said he was waiting for his mom to stop by to drop off some stuff so he couldn’t leave and was just gonna let you sleep it off in his bed and then bring you home in the morning, but he wanted Yoongi to know about it. He even sent Yoongi a text later saying he owed him for having to sleep on the couch in his own home.”

“What?! So I didn’t actually sleep with him? And you guys knew about all of this? Then how did Mrs. Chan smell his cologne in the hallway?”

He continued to laugh at your expense, “Do you really think Yoongi would be so calmly sitting at the table if he came home at 2am to find you missing and he didn’t know where you were? Remember that one time you took too much cold medicine and were completely passed out? Well when you didn’t answer Yoongi’s call in the middle of the night he sent Jungkook to check on you.”

“What?! I knew I saw someone in my room that night, but I kept telling myself it was just the fever making me see things. I am gonna kill them both.”

Jimin laughed even harder, “He was just really worried because he knew how sick you were and then you weren’t answering him which was unlike you. In his defense Jungkook was only supposed to knock on the door to see if you answered. Jungkook’s the one that went rouge and broke in like he was James Bond or something.”

“Okay whatever. I’ll take that up with Jungkook another day.”, you huffed.

“So Yoongi knows everything and is okay with it?”, you asked.

“I mean sure he was kind of pissed off you ran to Woo-Sung right away, but I think he gets it. Yoongi is well aware of his past with you. And as far as Mrs. Chan is concerned, Suri wears the feminine version of Yoongi’s cologne. Some bullshit about it reminding her of him. I told Taehyung to discontinue it, but it’s a best seller and I think he’s a little scared of Suri to be honest. That old bat Mrs. Chan just probably didn’t notice the difference and assumed it was Yoongi. Suri also has a type so there’s a high probability that this guy she was with did look like Yoongi especially from behind.”

You stared at the ground somehow feeling better, but worse at the same time.

You definitely owe Woo-Sung an apology for your behavior. You wondered if your famous cookies would be enough.

A knock at the door interrupted Jimins giggle fit and when he opened it Yoongi appeared holding a hot cup of coffee and a bagel sandwich. Jimin got the hint and left to finally get some sleep while Yoongi took his place sitting down next to you on the bed offering the coffee.

“Here drink this. I’m sure you feel even worse than you look right now.”

Taking the cup you took a sip of the hot liquid. The caffeine instantly taking the edge off of your headache.

“I’m sorry Yoongi. I shouldn’t have acted out like that especially without talking to you first. I was just so upset and hurt and not thinking straight.”

He smiled, “No need to be sorry. I understand why you did it. Honestly, I’m mostly upset that he got to see you in this dress before I did.”

Playfully you shoved his shoulder.

“I feel a little hurt honestly. I went over there looking like this and he just put me to sleep without even touching me.”

“Well I mean I’m like one of the biggest assholes on the planet and even I wouldn’t take advantage of a drunk woman no matter what she was wearing.”

You nodded, “True, true. I guess that is a good thing. There should be more people like that.”

“Yeah there really should AND it might also have a little something to do with the fact that when he agreed to go along with this whole plan, I might have, kind of, told him that if he ever touched you I’d take his guitar and shove it down his throat.”

“Yoongi that wasn’t very nice.”, you scolded somewhat playfully somewhat seriously.

Feeling a sudden rush of dizziness you rested your head on his shoulder taking in the smell of his cologne which had pretty much all worn off at that point besides a faint touch of cinnamon.

“We really need to get you a new cologne by the way. You’re like a billionaire, but you only have one bottle. It doesn’t make sense.”

“You should pick one out for me. Something that you like.”

“Really? Can I?”

“Yeah, but maybe don’t get this one customized.”

He chuckled while you cringed at the memory.

“If you weren’t with Suri then who was she making out with in the hallway?”, you asked taking a bite of the bagel he was offering you.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t know and don’t care. Hopefully she found some other poor soul to suck the life out of. But it does worry me that she might have something up her sleeve and this was all part of a bigger plan of hers. So we should definitely be on the watch for that.”

You finished off the bagel with some help from Yoongi before deciding that it was time for a shower and to get some sleep before Woo-Sung would pick you up to head over and put the rest of the plan in motion.

As you stood up you glanced over at the dresser where you had placed your ring the day before noticing an empty spot.

“Oh no! Where did it go?”, you said in between tears that instantly started falling. You dropped down on the ground feeling around hoping to find it.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“I lost it Yoongi.”

“Lost what? Your mind?”, he chuckled.

“Not funny. I lost my ring. I put it right here on the dresser before I left last night. I have no idea how it could be lost.”

Still crawling around on the floor you didn’t even notice that Yoongi had walked over and was now crouching down next to you. When he finally cleared his throat you turned around so fast almost knocking him over. He was holding up the ring you were currently crying over.

“I saw it when I came to look for you in here after getting back from the office. I didn’t want it to get lost so I put it in my pocket.”

“Oh thank goodness.”, you said trying to grab the ring, but he took it just out of your reach.

“Yoongi can I please have my ring back?”

“I think you should go ringless for now. It’ll be more believable to Suri if you’re not wearing it. Every little detail counts.”

You couldn’t stop the pout that formed on your lips and Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from finding it to be the cutest thing ever.

“Plus I thought maybe when this whole thing is over I’d propose to you again. You know like actually propose, like you deserve.”, he said helping you off the floor.

“Alright, but it better include a song you wrote for me or I might just say no this time.”, you chuckled which Yoongi met with a gummy smile and blushed cheeks.

“I wish you could stay here with me.”, you said watching him put on his jacket.

“I know. Me too, but I don’t want the she demon to get suspicious.”

You laughed at the new nickname for Suri before wrapping your arms around him.

“Just a little more time and then we can put this all behind us.”, he gave you a kiss and you watched him walk out the door.

When you woke up a few hours later your headache had disappeared and you were feeling much better. After getting ready you walked out to find the living room already packed. Yoongi and Jin were sat at the table arguing over what restaurant they should order chicken from. Jimin was at the stove making a large pot of coffee knowing it’ll be needed. You heard someone clear their throat and then you saw Woo-Sung sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. Your cheeks instantly heated up with embarrassment.

Slowly you walked over to stand next to him.

“Listen Woo-Sung I am so sorry about last night. I was just upset and not thinking straight. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and I’m sorry that you had to sleep on the couch.”

He chuckled before shaking his head, “It’s okay Y/N. I’m just glad you came to me instead of going some place where you could’ve been taken advantage of. Cause I mean you did look really really good last night. If your husband wasn’t so scary I’d definitely say we should try that again, but sober.”

Before you could reply someone grabbed your hand and started pulling you away. Without looking you already knew it was Yoongi.

He glared at Woo-Sung before mouthing at him to watch it.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked once you were comfortably sitting at the table next to him.

“Better I guess. How about you?”

“Exhausted. I think I only got like two hours of sleep.”

“Was Suri there when you got back?”

He chuckled, “Yeah unfortunately. I found out who her hallway friend was.”

“Seriously? How? Who was it?”, you gasped with wide eyes.

“Suri left her phone out on the table while she was showering and luckily I guessed her passcode in only two tries. I saw these text messages between her and some guy that goes by Woozi. There was a photo of him as the contact and he looks a lot like me. I could see how Mrs. Chan would get confused. They went back and forth about planning a meet up and making out in the hall as the neighbors were walking around. It seems she knew that one of the neighbors would end up calling you to tell you what they saw. I have a feeling that she’s still not 100% satisfied with the situation and wants to make sure that there’s absolutely no chance that you and I reconcile.”

“She’s crazy Yoongi. There’s no nice way to put it. What did you ever see in her?”

“She was an easy hookup. I thought she felt the same way that I did. I swear I never thought she’d get like this.”

Before you could speak Jin cleared his throat indicating it was time to get things started.

Jimin and Jin helped attach the hidden recording device to Woo-Sungs chest using some tape. His shirt hid it nicely and they ran some quick tests to make sure everything was in order. Yoongi texted Suri to let her know that he was stuck at the office again, but that you would be stopping by to grab more of your things. Yoongi was going to stay there with Jimin and Jin so that Suri would feel more comfortable talking to Woo-Sung.

Yoongi met you at the dork to help you with your coat and Jin met you not long after.

“So everyone has their story straight? Remember Woo-Sung, just try and get her to do most of the talking. Try and guide her into revealing that Namjoon is the father and that she’s been blackmailing Yoongi with it.”, Jin spoke as Woo-Sung nodded in understanding.

You gave Yoongi a quick kiss goodbye before heading out the door.

Standing outside the penthouse door you were confused whether you should knock or just go in or maybe have Yoongi call her. Woo-Sung gave your hand a light squeeze, “We got this.”Opting for option number two you entered in the passcode which thankfully still worked. Just as you were taking off your shoes you could hear a loud sigh come from the entrance way.

“Don’t you know how to knock? You don’t live here any more remember? Or is that too much for your little brain to handle.”

“Fuck off Suri. Yoongi said he told you I was coming over. I just have to grab a few things and then we’ll leave.”

“Well hello to you too you little bitc-. Kim Woo-Sung? What are you doing here?”

Turning around you saw that Woo-Sung had made an appearance which quickly got the attention of Suri.

He smiled and outstretched his hand, “Nice to meet you. I’m just here with Y/N.”

“With Y/N? What is someone like you doing with a poor waste of space like her?”

He awkwardly cleared his throat, “She’s actually quite lovely.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment as you walked back towards your old room. You really didn’t need anything so you grabbed a small bag and started filling it with random articles of clothing to make it seem like you took something.

“Come sit with me. Would you like any bring to drink?”, Suri asked flirtatiously.

He shook his head taking the seat next to her on the couch.

Back at Jimins apartment him, Jin, and Yoongi were all listening to the conversation in real time.

“This is so cool. I feel like a secret agent.”, Jimin quipped.

The two older men quickly gave him a look to silence him.

“I really hope this works.”, Yoongi replied. “It’ll be fine. We just have to get what we need.”, Jin said trying to calm his friend.

“So how did the two of you meet?”, Suri asked twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger.

“Ummm we met a while ago at a party. You know, friend of a friend type stuff. ”

“Oh and are you two just now getting to know each other?”

“Yeah Y/N has been pretty upset lately. She has been going through a lot of stuff so we’ve really connected.”

“Mmhm I see.”

“Yeah so what about you? I heard from Y/N you’re pregnant with Yoongi’s baby?”

She giggled,”Yes I sure am. See the little bump? We are so excited. Yoongi’s been picking out names already and we’re going to start on the nursery once Y/N gets the rest of her crap out of there.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes so hard he gave himself a headache while Jimin and Jin couldn’t contain their laughter next to him.

“Congratulations. I’m sure Yoongi is super excited. He’ll have a little farmhand to give him some help.”

“I’m sorry what?”, she asked coughing on her sip of water.

“Yeah Yoongi told me a while ago that if he ever had children he wouldn’t want them to grow up in an apartment in the city with a dad who was never around because all he did was work. So he said he’d leave the company and move out to the countryside and buy a sheep farm for his family to live on.”

“Oh my God, Yoongi and these fucking sheep.”, you whispered to yourself after eavesdropping on the conversation the best you could from your room.

“No I don’t think Yoongi would do that. I mean why would he give all this up?”, she asked gesturing around the very large penthouse.

He shrugged, “Dont know. I just heard Jin complaining that he was going to have to drive his Mercedes in the mud to go visit Yoongi since he was was looking at farmland for sale the other day.”

“Well we are not going to live like that so I’ll have to say something to him.”

“Yeah probably should bring that up to him. Especially before he wastes the time and money to order the DNA test.”, he chuckled.

“What DNA test?”

“Oh well I just assumed that someone with as much power and money as Yoongi would require a DNA test for any kid being claimed as his. You know, just to protect his assets and stuff.”

“No Yoongi wouldn’t do that. He knows this baby is his. There’s no way he’d put me or the baby through that. And even if he did for some reason I’d never agree to it.”, she nervously chuckled.

“I mean I’m pretty sure he could get it court ordered if he really wanted to.”

“Wow, she went through all this scheming and conniving and never even thought about what would happen if Yoongi asked for a DNA test. What an idiot.”, Jimin chuckled.

“I mean we never thought about that either. We could’ve just requested that she get a DNA test and when it showed Yoongi wasn’t the father we could’ve just used that. We didn’t even have to go through this whole extravagant thing.”, Jin responded. The three men sat staring at each other in realization.

Yoongi cleared his throat, “This is a good thing though. Now we will have this recording as well to make sure she can’t twist it around.”

Suri was beginning to panic. She hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Yoongi requesting his own DNA test because she honestly believed Yoongi would just bow down and give in to her.

“Why do you care so much about a DNA test? It doesn’t matter to you anyway.”, she spat.

Woo-Sung put his hands up in defense, “I really don’t care. I was just asking since Yoongi is an acquaintance of mine and I care about his well-being. You’re the one that’s getting so defensive about it.”

“Sorry, it’s just the hormones or something.”, she said trying to calm herself down.

You had quietly moved to the hallway just out of sight of the two of them in the living room. This was taking a lot longer than you had thought it would and you weren’t sure that Suri was going to break. You weren’t sure where he was going with this, but you were done leaving it up to the men and decided to take matters into your own hands. You made your presence known by greeting the two of them.

Yoongi, Jin, and Jimin looked at each other in panic as they heard your voice through the speaker. They hadn’t gotten what they needed so you weren’t supposed to be there yet.

As you sat down on the chair opposite Suri and Woo-Sung she scoffed at your audacity to make yourself comfortable.

“What are you doing? You don’t live here any more remember. Don’t be rude.”, she glared at you.

“Yes Suri, I am aware of that. I left on my own. I just wanted to talk things out with you. Like adults.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Things were great between Yoongi and I and then you showed up. But now we finally get to be a happy family. Me, him, and our baby.”

You fought back an eye roll, “I am happy for you and I hope you guys have a long happy life together. If you ever need anything just let me know. I am always here.”

Suri looked at you with suspicion, “Why would I ever need anything from you?”

“I don’t know. I mean one day when Yoongi decides he’s had enough and leaves and you’re left all alone you might need some help.”, you shrugged.

“That will never happen. Especially now that I’m pregnant.”

“Mmhm. I mean he already hardly comes home now that you’re living here. Who knows how many women he’s hooking up with just to get away from you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad he left you.”

“Am I? Do you really think I care? I still get the benefits of being his wife without the emotional baggage that comes with it. You on the other hand? You’re just the other woman that he accidentally got pregnant. If that baby really is his.”

Suri scoffed, “Of course this baby is his. Who else’s would it be?”

“I don’t know. Could be the guy you were making out with in the hallway the other day. Woozi I think his name is? Could be any other guy in this country. I mean I was having a few drinks with Namjoon the other day and he said some interesting stuff that makes me think the baby could even be his.”

You could see Suri’s body tense up at the mention of Namjoon.

You continued, “He mentioned something about the two of you hooking up and now you’re suddenly pregnant. Seems a little suspicious to me.”

“So what? I hooked up with him. I’m an adult and can sleep with whoever I want.”, she crossed her arms.

“No no you’re right. You can sleep with anyone you want. Just like Namjoon can take you to court over the custody of this baby if he wants to and it sounds like he does.”

“He doesn’t have the guts to do that. He’s way too passive.“

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty set on it the other day. Said he was already contacting lawyers and everything.”

Suri was visibly upset. You were starting to feel kind of bad because you didn’t want the innocent baby getting stressed out. You just needed that final push to send her overboard.

“Namjoon showed me all the proof he has while we were drinking. It all looked pretty believable to me, but then again I’m not a lawyer.”

“What proof?! I destroyed the DNA test that verified him as the father. I deleted every conversation we had about it. Namjoon has nothing confirming he is the father other than word of mouth and that means nothing! Yoongi is going to be seen as the father of this baby no matter what and that’s that.”

“You’re right Suri. Guess you have nothing to worry about then. Come on Woo-Sung, let’s go. I want to get out of here before Yoongi gets home.”

Suri jumped up to follow the two of you,

“I know what you’re up to Y/N. You think you just got dirt on me, but no one will believe you. It’s your word against mine. And if you try anything I will make your life miserable. I’ve blackmailed Yoongi for years and I won’t even think twice about doing the same to you.”

“Okay Suri. Have a good night.”, you smirked as you walked to the door with Woo-Sung following closely behind.

“Well that didn’t go exactly to plan.”, he chuckled awkwardly once safely in the elevator.

You heard your phone go off from your pocket. Taking it out the screen illuminated with a message from Yoongi.

“Good job baby. We got exactly what we needed. Now hurry up and get back here. I have a special reward waiting for you.”

#bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #cinnamon&vanilla #yoongi fic #min yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi au #bts fic #yoongi fluff #jimin #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #jungkook

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pisspope · 10 months

Text

rei and zeke bday hcs cause like,,, why not (but also bc its what the ppl voted for)

tw: implied sex, references to canon typical violence

zeke

- its not that his parents didn’t celebrate his birthday at all its just,,, it was usually a small affair with influential PTA members and their kids. in other words, no one zeke got along with. very much a “seen not heard” while the grown ups sip mimosas type deal

- and of course zeke does everything in service of disappointing his parents so!!! its party time

- honestly u could try to throw a surprise party but good fucking luck this man is snoopy as all hell. every time ur out just a little too long with pieck or porco (they’re bickering over how early to buy balloons) he’s got u on the horn like “i know ur planning something”. would never accuse u of cheating bc he fully believes his own hype and knows u wouldnt DARE cheat on Adonis Himself (Narcissus more like but w/e)

- so yeah he’s probably at least a little involved in the planning of it all, wants to backseat drive because hes “not a loser who plans his own birthday party”. sending u screenshots from his notes app with his favorite colors, songs, what cake he wants, etc. lowkey insufferable

- day comes and you’ve rented out the kid’s bday party section of a bowling alley/arcade and filled it with every friend you can think of that isn’t vaguely shitty or hasn’t been burned by zeke in some way. so like… maybe 10 people, gabi and the kids included so they have a believable cover story if the staff asks who the party’s for. not that they’d care but zeke loves to play like he’s so sNeAkY and sHiFty by telling everyone it’s a party for udo or something.

- that man can BOWL and he’s an ass about it. the sorest winner in the world. in every universe he will knock down 10 or more little dudes with a rock and cheer and whoop and holler like an idiot. jeering at porco when he gets a gutter ball and you see reiner pull him aside like “just let him have it today. its his big day.” as if it is not ALSO reiner’s big day

- played with the idea of him getting a devil’s food cake and reiner getting an angel’s food cake for the lolz but he’s not sharing a party on his life so. coffee cake 100%, both because he likes it and because the kids don’t, which means more to take home. schemer that he is

- does ask for gifts but is pretty insistent about it being under 20 dollars (so he can see who overspent and ACTUALLY loves him. male manipulator). falco gets him an officially licensed sock monkey and he cries (pussy). whispering to u after that if his parents ever die horribly he’ll adopt him

- heading to the connected arcade after and, second verse same as the first, he kills at skee ball. breaks the record on each machine one after the other just to show off, gets all smirky holding the wad of tickets, talking about how he “does it all for uuuuu” and gives u the wettest sloppiest kiss on the cheek just to embarrass u

- does actually give u all his winnings tho. the high score, the posterity, the want to be remembered,,, the ego boost is enough, u can have the 2100 ticket pikachu plush <3 (u will never hear the end of this. i pity u)

- def gets home with his leftover dessert in hand and gifts in bags on his wrist, smile more genuine than usual. opening the door and letting u in, gifts and food quickly forgotten in lieu of giving you a proper thank you for helping put all this together

- 100% squeezing ur ass and asking if there’s any leftover cake for him, knowing it’ll make u roll your eyes but that you’ll relent bc the cheese is part of the charm (and boy when he gets that treat he asked for? he EATS)

reiner

- something something something same birthday complete opposite ends of the spectrum in terms of how they celebrate it

- wants his bday to be a nice quiet affair with the people he loves most, his little found family and maybe karina if hes feeling generous that year

- if u plan a party in any capacity hes gotta be part of the action! wants to hang streamers, balloons, any little things you decide on to spruce up your place for the event (please don’t call it an event he can’t handle the pressure)

- also u can’t have a cookout bday bc he will insist on working the grill the whole time. shark coded, will drown if he isn’t doing something

- the party itself is extremely laidback, feels more like a big hangout. ordering 3 of his favorite type of pizza, bringing out beanbags and comfy chairs from other parts of the house so everyone can sit in the living room together. gabi and falco take the tv hostage to play video games and colt and bertholdt somehow get roped into it. it’s raucous, but comfortable.

- u and gabi collab on a homemade cake, but reiner is the baker in the family and gabi just likes the excuse to make a mess. end up making some easy cookies and buying a walmart sheet cake, and its a good thing, too, because just the sight of his name is enough to make him tear up. “you didn’t have to do all this” what, make a phone call to get ur name on a cake? the bar is on the floor unfortunately

- no presents because he can’t handle the pressure, but there’s a couple cards and his lip trembles over each one. zeke gets him a card that’s obviously for kids with stickers inside but he tears up at that one too because “it even comes with a little gift… so thoughtful…”

- rest of the party is spent doing more of the same, a couple beers are thrown back, maybe tosses a football around or something. very classic suburban white picket fence dream party. it brings reiner a quiet joy, one that he keeps close to his chest, a memory that he’ll look back on over and over.

- the guests start to filter out one by one until its just u and him, picking up paper plates, putting away leftovers. its all very domestic, it might actually be reiner’s favorite part. to just be with u in companionable silence, scooting around and putting the house in order. domesticity is something sacred that he never thought he’d have, and its a joy to share it with u.

- he INSISTS on sitting on the couch with u after, gives u those big eyes that he only gets when he wants u to pet his hair, falls asleep to one of his favorite comfort films with your hands on his head, totally content

- wakes up in the wee hours and carries u to bed like the big bear of a man that he is, not expecting anything of you, just wanting u to be comfortable. tucks u in and gives u a kiss like it’s your birthday or something

- and it’s not a gift bc reiner specifically requested no gifts, but if he wakes up to u wearing something special the next morning, something that leaves nothing to the imagination, i mean… maybe the party doesn’t have to be over quite yet

#reiner braun #zeke yaeger #reiner braun x reader #zeke yaeger x reader #zeke #rei #aot #cakecore #question mark #reimar #zeke yeager x reader

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ackermonie · 2 years

Text

like a hot dad

content: nsfw, long haired levi, breeding kink, daddy/mommy kink if u squint, dilf levi, post war canon

warnings: +18 content, mild manga spoilers, f!bodied reader.

wc: 1.5k~

tags: @motherfckerrr bc they commented ehe

a/n: i genuinely had no idea where this was going i just kept writing and somehow ended up with being h word for dilf long haired levi and idk how to take it back tysm

also pls reblog if u can!! i’m tryna gain back my old followers from my previous blog due to shadowban, so spreading the word could def help!! tysm either way<3

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do you think levi would grow his hair out post-war?

idk mahn but the vision of him with a short wolf-ish is really getting to me.

i feel like maybe he’d let it grow accidentally. with the healing process for his knee and the rest of his wounds i feel like he wouldn’t really care about his hair, and you’re totally in for it.

it’s a huge change. for years, you’re used to levi’s neat hair and infamous undercut, and you were 100% into it. but now as he finally lets you cut his hair for him instead of doing it himself, you kinda slowly fix it in a wolf cut and let it grow gradually.

you’d come up with excuses every time he asks you to cut his hair.

“i have so much to do around the house today, my love. maybe tomorrow?”

“oh, i’m on my period today. i can barely stand up.”

“oh! i forgot i have to go get stuff from the market! i’ll be meeting gabi and falco, i can’t be late, can i?”

once he gets frustrated with you, the raven silk was already down to his nape. it shaped his face beautifully, and once you caught him with a pair of scissors in the bathroom, your soul left your body.

“WAIT!” you dash to him, holding down the armed left hand. “you’re not left handed! you wanna ruin your hair??”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes at you. “you’ve been putting me off for months. look how long it’s gotten!” he gestures with a hand to the mirror in front of you two. “i look hideous.”

you slip the scissors from his hands, and levi catches the little sly smile that slips on your face as you squeeze yourself between his body and the sink.

you watch the realization fall on his face while your hands slip in his hair.

“is this what i get for letting my guard down around you?”

“you look beautiful,” you tell him, love struck as you are, never missing the pink dust that rushes to his cheeks “everyone compliments you for it. you still wanna cut it off again?”

“i don’t give a shit about anyone else.” he grumbles and looks down between you both, leaning on his cane. “i don’t look representable.”

“you don’t have to look representable,” your tone lowers in sincerity. a thumb grazes the scar on the right side of his face. “you’re not a captain anymore, my love. you’re free to do whatever your heart pleases.”

he looks up at you, features blank, but you know well how your words are tossing and turning in his brain.

“besides,” your smile returns back to your face, and you pull him a little closer. “you look extremely hot.” a hand trails down to the hem of his shirt, your eyes following the movement, then you return your gaze back up to him. “like a hot dad.”

his eyebrows shoot up, playfulness making an appearance on the previous stoic features. “like a hot dad?”

“mmhm,” you affirm with a mock-nonchalant nod, and you slip away from him jjjuuust when he was about to pull you in. you look at him over your shoulder, mischief pure in your gaze. “i’ll go check on dinner for the guests coming tonight. feel free to join.”

only except that ten minutes later, the kitchen is completely empty and you two didn’t manage to make it past the living room. he was seated on the sofa, head throw back with his fucking hair framing his delicious expression like that, you swear you could cum untouched in your position between his legs as you get to work.

“like a hot dad, huh?” he mumbles, all breathless and shit once you were seated in his lap, his length stretching you perfectly. a hand reaches up to wipe away the remaining of his previous climax on the corner of your lips. you throw your head in the crook of his neck, the pleasure of your hips rolling skillfully against his hitting you bad. “you could’ve just asked, lovely. wanna make me a daddy?”

you manage a shaky nod when he begins to meet your hips halfway.

a hand trails up from your waist to garb your neck, squeezing deliciously as he pulls you away from his neck to take a good look at you. “words, my love.”

“yes,” you nod, eyes closed in bliss. one of your hands grab the wrist of the hand around your neck. “wan’ make y-you a…hhah… daddy.”

“fffuuck…” he groans out when you squeeze around him, letting himself gather enough strength before he throws you off of him and onto the sofa. when your thighs are squeezed together at the painful loss of contact, a palm falls on one of them, leaving a flushed mark in its wake.

“open wide, baby.” he grabs a hold of his cock while he holds the back of your opening thigh to keep the pair apart. the years upon years in the survey corps leave you as flexible as you can be, so when he presses your thigh back, your joints bend easily at his will. pumping himself a few times as he gazes at your glistening folds, another groan breaks out from deep in his chest.

“god, look at you.” he rolls his hips in, and you feel him slip through so pleasurably that you can’t hold back the loud whimper that escapes you.

because damn, how could you not from this view? this is a face of a determined, pussy-drunk man. sweat broke on his forehead, a few strands sticking to the skin while the rest of his hair falls around his face perfectly. you see a ting of pain on his features, and you scatter to try to change your position for a more comfortable one for him, but he is quickly pushing you back down to the couch, a hand falling to your lower abdomen.

the pressure he puts there makes you forget your own name, and it shows on the way your body shivers with bliss. his thrusts increase in velocity, the maddening roll of his hips against yours throwing you in a whole other dimension.

a hand reaches out to grab yours, and through the dizzying pleasure, you realize that levi is pressing your own hand to your abdomen underneath his.

“look how deep inside am i,” he grumbles, leaning down to press a kiss on your bouncing tits. you feel his length stroke in and out of you the more levi puts pressure on your hand. “taking me so well. always so well, baby.”

he takes control of your hand once more, feeling you squeeze familiarly around him, and he pushes your fingers through his hair. you yank on the strands immediately, pulling out a fucking growl out of the man as he leans down until your chests were touching, putting a bit of his body weight on you for support.

you latch onto him like a koala, the burn of your core muscles stretching as he pushes you in a mating press mixes well with your pleasure-high brain. levi kisses, licks, bites down on your neck to leave marks you’ll have trouble hiding later, but you don’t give a shit. you arch your neck more, letting out a long moan when he nips at a certain spot, the bliss turning you mad.

levi is breathless. his puffs of air fan your face when he brings his face on top of yours. a whimper escapes past his lips, his features twisted with pleasure uncontrollably, and you drown in the sounds he makes.

“wann’ make you a mommy too,” he mumbles, open lips landing on the corner of your lips. “wanna…hhah… fill you up. over,” he pauses, delivering an especially harsh thrust that you feel at your cervix. “and over again.”

“levi, i’m so—,”

your body begins to curl into him, eyes closing uncontrollably, and the poor man barely has any chance to ready himself for the way you tighten impossibly around him as you give him your first climax.

your body shivers and quivers, shaking as he overstimulates you chasing after his own pleasure. he leans back up, hands harshly grabbing your lips as he manages to pull you even deeper, and you tightness milk him.

it isn’t the first time he cums inside you, but this one sure hits different. after a few more thrusts that manage to abuse your cervix, levi stills stiffly with a strong groan, and you feel his warmth coat your walls .

he gives you a few more deep strokes as he leans down to kiss you deeply, making sure he fucks all his load deep enough.

his hips still once more, but you keep devouring his lips. weak moans are erupted from both of you as you two calm down gradually, before levi throws sway your attempts of calming down your still-raging arousal when he pulls away, leans up, and slowly pulls out of you.

and he watches the mixture of both your orgasams begin to pool out of you, and you watch as he takes two fingers to push everything back in. you shamelessly roll your hips against bis digits once more.

he looks up at you, fingers still engulfed, snd a smirk takes over his handsome features.

“one more time for good measures?”

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thebisexualdogdad · 4 months

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Benji x male diamond reader with “not being able to focus on anything during a conversation, you're too busy staring at your lover's lips” from 100 different kisses.

Benji Rodriguez x male!reader

*so I totally missed the Diamond reader part of the request until just now as I'm getting this ready to post so sorry!*

“Okay so remember Sofia thinks you're just my roommate so no getting handsy or calling me babe or-” Benji rambles nervously as you stand in front of his sisters apartment building, “Y/N are you listening to me?”

Your focus is set on his lips, watching him speak but the words barely registering to your ears, “yeah babe, roommates got it.”

“Y/N I'm serious, I'm not ready to come out to Sofia yet,” he says.

“Benj,” you say setting your luggage on the ground so you can put your hands on his shoulders to comfort him, “you don't need to come out until you're ready but everything you've told me about Sofia makes it seem like she would have no problem with you being gay… and besides, she's living in San Francisco with her best friend are you sure they are just ‘roommates’.”

Benji laughs at your joke, his body relaxing from your touch, “it's been so hard keeping this part of my life a secret from her, I mean we've been together for over a year and all I want to do is talk to Sofia about my amazing boyfriend.”

“Well can your amazing boyfriend get one last kiss before we have to play straight for the weekend?” You smirk with your eyes glancing down to his lips again.

Benji looks around to make sure no one would see you and smiles, leaning in to kiss you sweetly.

“Come on, if we don't get up there soon Sofia is gonna report us missing,” he says feeling a bit more relaxed.

“You're joking right? She wouldn't actually report us missing? You texted her when we got to the airport, when we were boarding the plane, when we landed and when we got into our uber,” you question.

He just laughs, kissing you one more time before you head up to his sister's apartment where you make your introductions.

You and Benji are setting your bags down inside when you overhear Gabi whisper to Sofia, “when did your little brother get so hot?? And how is he roommate so hot too??”

“Gabi you are not allowed to hit on Benji or his roommate,” you hear Sofia snap which makes you smile to yourself.

This was sure going to be an interesting weekend.

#young and hungry imagine #benji rodriguez imagine #benji rodriguez x reader #x male reader #fic

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moonspirit · 21 days

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what do u think the alliances favourite form of media is? (books, poetry, music, movies etc.) now that they’re able to freely enjoy such things

Hiya!

Oh well xD I have some strong opinions on this one.

For Armin, his fascination with books will not cease, obviously, and good for him if he finds a library he can spend all day cooped up in, reading about wonderful new things. But also, I like thinking that he's gonna enjoy music a lot. Once he gets his hands on some records, and the Alliance hauls a gramophone into their house, he's going to really become a music enthusiast. I see him bonding with Pieck over their mutual love for good music.

(also. Once he discovers a new machine or contraption or invention, it's over for everyone.)

Annie - well @aquietjune introduced the image of Annie being a movies lover, and it's been stuck in my head ever since xD It's just adorable to think she enjoys going to watch the moving pictures and can spend any amount of time there. But aside from this, while I think she's not much of a book person, I like the idea of her enjoying crossword puzzles a lot. She'd like to have something to keep her mind busy and they're good for that. Ofc, this means Armin and her can have dining table dates where he's reading a book and she's doing a puzzle and he helps her with words when they're being particularly difficult.

Jean - XD oh god. I imagine this guy likes activities that exude an air of elegance and class. This could be painting, or an interest in fine art, and poetry, museums, art galleries, the like. I think he'd also enjoy the movies and maybe he and Annie could go together for a few (tho she's not having any of his intellectual put-on opinions on them).

Pieck - she's gonna be a plant lady 100%. There will be so many plants in her room and in the house that a giant leaf is smacking everyone in the face wherever they go. I just think she's going to find some comfort raising baby plants especially if we consider that she's the only real "odd one out" in the Alliance. She's lost everyone she knew and loved and is a newcomer among the others. But! There's also the music! She's got good taste in music and I imagine she's going to find some closeness with Armin in this interest.

As for Connie and Reiner. See, I really think they'd enjoy festivals and carnivals and board games and shooting games haha xD Not that any of the others would enjoy them less, but they're the first to make a beeline if there's something going on somewhere. Reiner canonically enjoys playing chess too (if I'm remembering right, he used to play a lot with Armin during their cadet years). Connie would enjoy mimicry and jesting shows(?) a lot (plenty to laugh at) and I think Reiner would also enjoy romance novels a lot and get too involved in the drama. I just like making fun of him a lot sorry

Not related to media but I think taking care of pets would help them all, but Reiner in specific. Not going into details here cuz that is another tangent, but for someone with so many suicidal thoughts and ideations, finding joy in bonding with a dog or cat or any animal really, would be good for him.

Falco and Gabi? - they probably love everything! Though Gabi is too restless to sit in one place for anything too long lol. Falco would probably get great book recs from Armin.

Levi - leave the man alone in peace, he's got a tea shop. (But I also hc that he likes the radio a lot)

Mikasa? - I think she'd also like radio broadcasts a lot, and going to plays. I have a very hard time getting into her headspace 🥲

#ask #behyuu #attack on titan #headcanon #alliance #armin arlert #annie leonhart #jean kirstein #pieck finger #f #reiner braun #connie springer #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #gabi braun #falco grice

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marcobodtlives · 4 months

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AoT Character Deaths and How They Made Me Cry:

Marco (Reiner/Bertholdt POV): 9/10 lost my fucking mind, frothing at the mouth, sobbing, angry tears. He didn’t deserve that. He just wanted to talk. Also cried when Jean saw him by the pyre and before deciding to side with the Scouts not Jaegerists. And when Jean kissed his hand before fighting the female titan. And when Jean led all the survivors to kill the turned government officials after the rumbling began because it reminded me of when Marco told him he would make a great leader. Also cried when he wasn’t in the smoke at the ending.

Armin: 10/10 tried so hard not to sob, throat had a large lump, head was throbbing, couldn’t breathe properly. Didn’t think he was gonna come back from it and considered if the show would still feel the same without him.

Ymir: 4/10 unfortunately overshadowed by the fact that I was still connecting a lot of plot points and my brain hurt. I did tear up as Historia read the love letter. Also teared up a little when Reiner sniffed the stupid letter at the very end of the show, because it reminded me of Ymir and her first letter.

Sasha: 7/10 saw it coming, knew it in my heart and bones, but ultimately understood why her character was killed (from a narrative perspective). Teared up but was mostly in shock. Thought I could handle it, then several episodes later I saw the shot of Gabi looking like Sasha from behind and didn’t feel the tears till my cheeks were soaked in them. Cried quite hard when she was in the smoke and saw the look on Connie and Jean’s faces as they watched her disappear.

Colt: 6/10 (I know it wasn’t a major death but come on) he just wanted his broTHER TO BE OKAY COME ON - pour some (tears) out for ‘em.

Floch: 4/10 first watch I won’t lie I thought ‘finally, jesus’ but on the second watch I considered it more and felt a bit bad for him as he said his last words to Jean. He died for a cause in his heart, even if it was a cause birthed by revenge. Felt sad when I saw the building collapse in on his body, knowing he died so far from home. I’m still mad about how he treated Armin and Jean though, so not many tears.

Hange: 10/10 music moved me so hard I’ve never needed more tissues in my life. Sobbed as Hange fell, but had a smile on my face as they looked at the colossals in wonderment. Proud of them, wished it didn’t have to end this way.

Jean and Connie (transformation): 100/10 not knowing they survived I absolutely lost the plot. I was furious and sobbing. They deserved to see a future where their lives weren’t threatened. Felt awful inside. Tears flowing down my cheeks and neck. Pained. Raw, open sobs. Even more tears when I realised they were okay.

Eren: 7/10 I knew it was coming. I knew it would happen from the moment he left the Scouts in Marley. I was already crying over Jean and Connie at this point so it’s hard to tell how many tears were for Eren, but I was mostly proud of Mikasa and those were the cause of the tears.

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peterlorrefanpage · 1 month

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Peter Lorre in musical/noir "Casbah" (1948)

"It gave him a new dimension to expand his own acting career."

Peter Lorre as Detective Slimane with Tony Martin as Pépé le Moko (also, wouldn't this be great as a paper doll set?)

Peter looking devilishly divine with that little whippy stick of his that I am 100% normal about...

Such a dear face:

LOTS more under the cut!

Believing Lorre a “dyed-in-the-wool good actor,” Tony Martin, who independently produced Casbah with Nat C. Goldstone, gave the actor room to rework his dialogue: “The night before, when he would get the script, he’d say, ‘I’d like to make this or that change.’ And he’d do it.” Director John Berry likewise, in Martin’s words, “let Lorre have the strength” to carry out his own ideas. The actor welcomed the freedom as well as the opportunity to assume a more contemporary role. “I like the role I’m playing now,” [Lorre] told Martin, “because all I’m doing is being a pursuer.” Martin added that the role was also a challenge: “He loved it, being the great actor that he was. It gave him a new dimension to expand his own acting career and to get out of that Sydney Greenstreet thing he was in. . . . It caught him with a sense of humor and a tenderness. - From "The Lost One: A Life of Peter Lorre" by Stephen D. Youngkin

"Singing his way through a string of minor musical-comedies had not prepared Martin for a dramatic debut. He knew he needed help. Lorre cast a spell over the actor and then snapped his fingers: “In those days, the black and white pictures, the close-ups, he could hypnotize you, and he could lull you into a deep inner peace. "We'd do a take and I'd be rotten. He’d say, ‘You know, you’re the worst fucking actor I’ve ever seen.’ I’d say, ‘Really?’ He’d say, ‘Yes, nobody worse.’ And we’d start to laugh and the director would say, ‘Alright, let’s go,’ and I’d do a good scene. He had a way of putting me down. He had a psychological way. And we had dinner every night." - From "The Lost One: A Life of Peter Lorre" by Stephen D. Youngkin

With Thomas Gomez as Louvain:

With Yvonne De Carlo as Inez:

Joined by Märta Torén as Gaby:

With Märta Torén again (and guh, those eyes of his):

Alas, poor Pépé! (But oh, the beautiful brow of our Peter.)

From Ruth Waterbury’s review in the Los Angeles Examiner:

“Lorre as the Inspector who knows he is going to get his man Pepe is utterly wonderful. He’s lazy. He’s catlike. And smart out of this world. Lorre is so consistently good in every picture that they will probably forget his work in ‘Casbah’ when next year’s Academy nominations for ‘best supporting performance’ come around. But I hope they don’t. This smooth job belongs right up among the best.” -From "The Lost One: A Life of Peter Lorre" by Stephen D. Youngkin

Want to see it?

youtube

#peter lorre #the man is gorgeous #casbah #tony martin #peter lorre movies #peter lorre pictures

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serenpedac · 3 months

Note

💐 so much love to you, darling and wonderful friend

you are so incredibly thoughtful, so sweet, so supportive, and such a delight and important part of this lovely fandom

your writing is incredible! i love your discussions and thoughts. thank you for being you and sharing yourself and your time with us

every time i see the stars i think of you! especially the pleiades

Question! for your twc ocs- what piece of media reminds them of their lis (books, letters, movies, music, memes, etc) 💕

hope you’re having an amazing day!

Wonderful person, thank you so much for your message *sobs* I've been rereading this message over the past few days and just want to hug it close to my chest <3

I hope you have an amazing day as well!

This was a great question to think about! I had so much fun figuring out which medium every OC would pick.

Yael for Nate: The painting 'Rough Sea with Wreckage' by Turner shown above. Although she doesn't know everything about Nate's past, the imagine of the lonely ship out on a rough sea makes her think about what Nate may have been through. It reminds her of the scene in the mirror, how could it not?

There's also the contrast between the light and the darker clouds, and it's unclear whether the ship is sailing into the storm or coming out of it. It makes her feel the tension of the unknown: the things she doesn't know about his past, the uncertainties of their future together. It's more emotion that she gets from this piece than anything articulated in words, but that suits her, I think.

Melike for Morgan: The poem 'i like my body when it is with your' by e. e. cummings. The physicality of the poem reminds them of Morgan, but there's also this sense of.. wonder, that "thrill" of something new that is mentioned at the end. Melike is very self-contained and it comes as a surprise to her how much they have grown to like Morgan's company. I can see her choose this poem because of the physical descriptions, but then get quiet and contemplative when going over it a second time, because of how those first lines suggest a change in her as well. It's about them, even though neither of them is quite sure what "they" are.

Gabi for Farah: The song I already like you by Dessa, because it's such an upbeat song! Gabi loves how Farah throws herself into their relationship, not holding back, she's open and honest and "Let's go!". The entire vibe of the song fits Farah so well, but what Gabi would pick out specifically is the "There's no sure bet // You just ride, ride, ride roulette" because she herself is the type of person who would want to be 100% sure before doing anything, but Farah is showing her that it's not all that bad to go for it.

Also, I can imagine Farah humming this song after picking it up from one of Gabi's playlists.

Laura for Ava: Laura is too cool for me lol! She would answer with a meme or a movie reference, but I don't know enough about either to give a good answer.

#oc: yael greene #oc: gabi sousa #oc: melike akyün #oc: laura kingston #<3 #sweet friend your message brightened my day #to hear the pleiades make you think of me :pleading face emoji:#hiding this in the tags but #thank you to all the wonderful people in this fandom #ily all #the previous year (years really) has been not the easiest #leaving me to struggle with taking up space in any way #among other things #but i'm finally working on it #and the kindness of you all means the world

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napollya-inspiration · 5 months

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@heytheredeann requested #17 for the Spotify Wrapped game (thanks for taking one for the team and giving me a bunch of numbers). This is another 998-word long ficlet, really stretching the definition of short here...

#17 on my 2023 Spotify Wrapped is The Archer by Taylor Swift (aka the most Napoleon Solo song to ever exist!)

(send me a number between 1-100, and I'll write a drabble about the corresponding song on my 2023 Spotify Wrapped)

Napoleon wakes in the middle of the night. The previous day comes back to him at once, in excruciating detail. It was the first time Sanders had demanded to meet him in person since he started to be on loan for UNCLE. It turned out to be nothing more than a warning call. A reminder whose leash his neck is really attached to.

In the dim light of dawn, he can’t help but recall the icy fear that had gripped him before and all throughout the meeting though. He’d been made aware that all it would take were a couple words from Sanders to yank him away from this little oasis of peace he’d found. The worst part was that Sanders could probably read it all on his face. He’s found something that matters. More than anything else in his sorry life.

He crawls out of bed as the heavy weight of panic descends on his chest. It wasn’t just that they were doing the job that they were doing. It wasn’t just that they came from opposing sides of a quasi war. At the end of this all, he thinks Illya and Gaby would look at him. The truth of him because they would learn to see right through him and then- who could stay with someone like him?

He fumbles for a glass of water in the dark kitchen of the safe house they’re staying in. His hand trembles like Illya’s when he lifts the glass to his lips. It’s been a long time since it’s been this bad, he thinks abstractly. The oxygen seems to be thin in the room as his mind replays, unbidden the moments in which he’d felt the desperation try to claw its way out of his throat.

He thinks of Gaby jumping into his arms at the beach in Istanbul. He thinks of Illya against his back during a shootout a few weeks ago. He thinks about Illya brushing his hair back to clean a wound on his forehead. He thinks about Illya’s triumphant grin when Napoleon has successfully walked him through picking a lock. He thinks about Illya, Illya, Illya.

He should leave before either of them can. He should run while he can. He should confess that the only thing in life he wants is to be with them.

Napoleon slams the glass down, dragging in a desperate breath. He works so hard to make everyone wonder who would leave him, while knowing quite well that no one would put in the effort to stay.

The next breath sounds more like a sob as he claws at the counter desperately. It’s been awhile since it’s been this bad, he thinks again.

The whole world seems to be closing in, becoming narrower and narrower until only the inevitability of his loss and his devastation about it are left.

“Cowboy?” A light turns on and Napoleon spins in place. He doesn’t notice he’s hit his glass until it shatters on the tiled floor.

“Illya.” He tries to think of something that would make him leave, not see the state Napoleon is in but it doesn’t take a spy to see it.

“What happened?” Illya asks, stepping forward quickly while Napoleon tries to remain upright as his panic spikes even further.

“Panic attack,” he mumbles because it’s impossible to deny and he’s sinking to the floor anyway, gasping for breath.

“Breathe, Cowboy.” It almost makes him laugh because of course, why hadn’t he thought of that? But also because Illya looks so scared. Like he’s terrified of losing him.

Who could ever leave me? He wants to scream. But who could stay?

Illya stays, murmuring soothing nothings until Napoleon can feel his lungs fill with air again. As the adrenaline subsides, tears follow unbidden. He’s too exhausted to care.

“Napoleon,” Illya says softly and Napoleon squeezes his eyes shut even as he feels hot tears spill down his cheeks. Illya hadn’t ever called him that. No one ever calls him that because no one ever gets close enough that they would feel the urge to.

“Not so pretty under the facade, am I?” He asks.

Illya reaches out and gently wipes away the tears. “You do not have to be pretty all the time.”

Napoleon manages to give him a little smile. “That’s a cute sentiment, Peril.”

“Is true,” Illya insists. “You are not going to scare me away.”

Oh, but I will. I always do.

Napoleon wonders if Illya can see. The emptiness that he tries to hide every day. The desperation that accompanies it. Some days he can forget about it himself. That doesn’t mean he can’t see right through himself.

Before Napoleon protests any further, Illya has pulled him against his chest. “Is ok. I got you.”

Napoleon is afraid he really does. Illya gets him, more than he should, considering their different backgrounds. Normally, he’d pull away, trying to collect his dignity after shattering like that in front of someone. Tonight, he’s run out of energy to do so, and giving in is too easy.

So he clings to the arm that’s holding him and tries to believe that it will be okay, just this once. Once is all he needs really.

I want to keep you.

“Help me hold on to you,” he says quietly. He doesn’t mean to say it, not really. It would mean he’s desperate enough to ask for help. Desperate enough to beg for Illya to stay.

The arms around him tighten, and it feels like being tied down during a bad storm for once, safe and secure rather than restricted. Illya hums, and there’s a quick press of his lips against Napoleon’s forehead - so quick that Napoleon almost thinks he’s imagined it. “Not letting you go, Cowboy.”

#spotify tag game #napollya #napollya ficlet #was overthinking this one for a little bit which is very much not the point of these

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starryeyedreviews · 8 months

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BIRTH - Full Review

Author’s note: My first review! Though I’d gotten this game a few months ago on my birthday (hehe), I thought it’d be a fun game to start this blog with because, well, the name, and also it’s not as popular as I feel it should be! Enjoy :)

Birth is a game about, quite literally, making a friend. In this point-and-click/puzzle game, you look for spare organs and bones to assemble this friend by solving puzzles and exploring a gorgeous hand-drawn macabre world. I don’t use the word “macabre” lightly — nearly every scene contains hints of decay like bones, severed body parts, running insects and rotting corpses. They are admittedly some of the loveliest depictions I’ve seen of those concepts, but if that’s really not for you, this game may not be as great an experience.

There are a variety of settings in this little city, from bookstores and bakeries, museums and restaurants, to the individual rooms in apartment complexes. There’s a beautiful irony to be had, that a place painted with death could be bursting with such life. Madison Karrh, Birth’s developer, seems to have put a lot of love into each scene, giving the NPCs and rooms their own bits of charm and personality. It’s really the little details that make the game a joy to play. ✨

Onto the gameplay itself! As a puzzle-lover myself, I didn’t find the puzzles very difficult, though sometimes I was a bit confused on what I was supposed to be solving in the first place. For the most part though, they were very calming to go through. Interacting with objects in the world was easy as well, since they would move as you hover your mouse over them. Unfortunately, as with many games of this genre, it lacks replayability, since the entire game has just one solution. There isn’t much I can say about Birth’s story, because there isn’t really one. There’s just the main premise (building a friend), and the journey towards it. But that’s okay! Like I said, the joy really comes from immersing yourself in the world, even if only for a couple of hours.

That being said, Birth is kind of a short game. I was able to 100% it in less than 2 hours, which, sadly, has led a lot of people to refund it after beating it. The game is a tad pricey ($10.99 on Steam) for its length, so if you’re running a little low on funds, I’d suggest waiting for it to go on sale. Or, if you want to keep scratching the itch Birth gives, Madison’s other games are either very cheap or free, and have the same type of gameplay and eerie humor! I’ll link them as well below. 🌠

Though simple in story and theory, Birth is undoubtedly a piece of art. It shows us the beauty in the process of life and death… and perhaps life again? Its morbid yet quaint style definitely sets it apart from other wholesome games, but I’d definitely consider it one regardless. I’m now excited for any other games Madison will put out, and hope she keeps them this wonderfully unique each time. 💫

Overall, 4 stars out of 5! ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Buy Birth on Steam here! Check out Madison Karrh’s other games here!

If you have any questions/suggestions for me, please let me know! My asks are always open ✨

~ Gabi 🌙

#starryeyedreviews #game review #cozy games #puzzle games #madison karrh #birth game #birth #point and click #macabre #dark aesthetic #indie games #creepy cute

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mrsbsmooth · 2 years

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Aww you’re all so sweet 🥺 I didn’t expect anyone to actually like that little Bobby thing! I’m really not a good writer (I never know when to use past and present tbh, especially in English bc it’s not my native language!) but thank you everyone!

And anybody is more than welcome to build onto it and create something actually good!

I didn’t really think much further than that tbh haha! I was just thinking, he would definitely flirt with her (in his cute clumsy Bobby way) and MC would definitely be into it. But MC is definitely guarded because of all the shit she’s been through, she doesn’t really trust it 100%. And who could blame her? And Bobby notices and just can’t help but give her a hug and, so that nobody hears him, whispers to her that she’s strong but she doesn’t have to deal with this shit if she doesn’t want to. Not for a tv show that only cares about her drama and her being miserable for views. Nobody, especially not her, should destroy their self worth and mental health for this stupid show. (Because let’s be honest.. they have it out for MC! Someone was so excited for Gabi to come in because that would hurt and cause drama. And being in a situation like that could so easily destroy someone! It’s been so cruel..)

And he would tell her that he would love to get to know her, trying to not sound too pushy and make her uncomfortable. But he can’t just leave without shooting his shot! And he joked that if he could, he would take her with him right now! (“Joke” sure Bobby..) And MC does flirt back so that has to mean something? But then the camera is fixed and he has to leave (it would be too suspicious to break another one… right?) and it breaks his heart to leave her there, with all these people who don’t really give a shit about her. But he leaves, with one last look and smile at her and then he’s gone.

And he’s sitting in his hotel room that night, beating himself up for not trying harder. She shouldn’t be in that villa with no one to care about her. With her life only being used for drama and views. It makes him sad to think of her all alone in there…

But he doesn’t know that MC is really thinking about leaving. It was always on her mind, since the first time she saw Suresh. But for some reason, she stayed.. but now? She might actually be finally done. And the production people could tell something was off and are trying to convince her to stay but why would she? She thought she could find love here again but after Bobby’s words to her.. she’s realising that they never wanted her in the Villa for that. They just wanted her hurt and the drama that would come from it. And god, it has been hurting. She constantly feels like breaking down, everything is just getting too much. And she doesn’t feel like she has an ally, an actual friend, in this damn Villa. Everyone always has an ulterior motive, she couldn’t trust any of them.

So why would she stay? Like Bobby said, why should she destroy herself for this? She doesn’t want to see any of the people here ever again after this is over. So why not end it early? She hasn’t been happy here anyway. It’s just been feeling miserable and uncomfortable the entire time she’s been here. So she’s going to leave. And production is trying to stop her, telling her to think it over but she’s packing her bags. Throwing her clothes into her suitcase, grabbing her toiletries and shoving everything that’s hers into her bags to leave this god damn villa. Even if she has to walk all the way to a hotel, she wasn’t going to stay here another night.

The others are shocked when she’s coming down the staircase with all her bags and production members running after her. They’re confused, trying to ask her what’s going on? Why would she leave, being here is an absolute dream?? (More like a nightmare for her)

And MC is so done with them. They’re (almost) all terrible people. So she goes off on them. Listing off all the shitty and terrible things they’ve done the last few weeks, giving them a nice little reality check bc god, they’re all assholes.

And then she grabs her bags and leaves and everyone is yelling after her, asking her to wait and to stop. But she’s done and she’s walking. Pulling her suitcase behind her and juggling her other bags, she’s walking down the road to get away from the villa. And it takes a bit until a car catches up to her, the Villa already a bit away in the distance. They drive her to the hotel, still trying to convince her to think about it and stay but that’s not gonna happen. She finally had the guts to leave, she’s never going back there. And it sounds so easy to say “just leave” but it really wasn’t. Being in the villa is like living in a bubble that’s impossible to escape, with people always manipulating you into staying.

And then she’s finally alone. For the first time in weeks it’s just her and the tears start and they don’t seem to ever stop. But it feels good to let it out, to just cry and sob into a pillow and to not worry about cameras and other people. And she falls asleep, tried and exhausted and feeling so worn down. But she’s out and she’s going to go home and continue with her normal life. It’s going to take some time to built up her confidence and self worth again and she definitely needs a therapist.. And the next morning she wakes up, tired and with red eyes, but her heart doesn’t feel heavy anymore. It’s been weighing her down the last few weeks, without her even realising it until now.

And after a nice long (private!) shower, she goes down for breakfast. And there, at a table in the corner, looking tired and a bit sad, she sees him. Bobby. Something about him gave her the strength to finally stand up for herself, his gentle but firm hug and the words he whispered against her ear. His kind eyes looking into hers and his cute freckled nose that scrunched up when he grinned down at her.

And so she goes over to him but he doesn’t look up, not even when she’s standing right in front of his table. So she clears her throat and his head shoots up to look at her. His eyes widen when he sees her, his jaw going a little slack. And the cool line she thoughts off while walking to his table gets stuck in her throat and all she can do is smile at him. It’s awkward for a second, he clearly didn’t think he would see her again like this. At breakfast the next morning! And to break the silence, MC says that she’s hoping he was serious when he said he would take her with him if he could because otherwise this is really awkward… and Bobby snaps out of it, and a smile grows on his face, he gets his confidence back and asks her to sit down for breakfast, so they can plan an entire day full of dates. So that he show her how she should’ve been treated by these stupid guys in the Villa. And they have an amazing day, ignoring their ringing phones of LI people freaking out about where they are and if MC is going back.

And obviously they’re gonna have to show MC leaving on TV and the fans are absolutely rooting for her and some people saw her and Bobby out that day and it’s everywhere online. And people love it! They’ve been wanting better for her and who would be better than Bobby McKenzie??? And they tell the LI people to fuck off, fly back together and continue dating. And everyone is rooting for them and loving them together and the press is going crazy because this has never happened before! And the Villa is still a mess because all the people in it suck. But MC and Bobby don’t care anymore. They’re getting to know each other and falling in love, slowly but surely..

The end! lmao

I’m so sorry this is so super long but then I couldn’t stop! If anyone wants to actually take this and turn it into an actual fic or one shot or whatever, please do! I would absolutely love to read it fully fleshed out, with great dialog and everything! And thanks again for being so sweet everyone 😭😭🥺

THEY REPLIED THEY REPLIED EVERYONE THEY REPLIED AND ITS EVEN BETTER THAN I IMAGINED AAAAAHHHHH AAAAAAHHHHHHH I LOVVE ITTTTTTT!!!!!!

#litg #love island the game #litg s2 #litg season 2

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luckyqueenreign · 2 years

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BE WARNED - long, long rant incoming but i think i’m just looking for validation in everything i’m about to say lmao

OKAY, but as I think we’ve all gathered, the s5 writers are acting like they’re trying to write s2 with their eyes closed and a brief synopsis, BUT, i will say that the only thing giving me hope going forward is a little theory i’ve been thinking about

just going to throw in finn becoming noah 2.0 triggering my heartstrings really quick because his speech was arguably the best part of the season BUT ANYWHO

in season 2, after casa amor, whether you recoupled or not, if noah/lucas/henrik recoupled, they all made it kind of clear that they were interested in blake (more so with lucas and henrik) before it all fell apart and they returned to MC. this also happens majority of the time in the show, they get mad because the other recoupled and then find their way back to each other. they’re just too stubborn to admit it at first typically

another reason that i feel like the same thing is happening with suresh and why they all don’t seem all that concerned for MC in that situation is the fact that we have RECOUPLED with nicolas/jonny !!! not only have we recoupled, but suresh has absolutely no idea whether or not we’re romantically involved with them. i didn’t consider this until i replayed the game and mentioned kissing nicolas in bed and SURESH ROLLED HIS EYES. he’s annoyed. he thinks we want nicolas and he’s hurt and too stubborn to admit it. not to mention none of the boys know if we chose alfie/dana or suresh

when alfie was grafting hard on us and suresh thought we were into alfie, he grafted harder on arlo and tried to get us out of his head. it wouldn’t be entirely out of character for him to do the same thing but worse this time considering he literally doesn’t know how we feel about him and hasn’t spoken to us in days

i don’t know what the situation with gabi is going to be, and honestly, i’m not entirely sure if my MC is going to forgive him for it or not, but this is what i THINK of the casa amor situation. i may be very wrong, but i just wanted to throw it out there and see what you think

omg babe literally yes to every single word. yes yes yes. I 100% agree with you and I hope so so so much that you're right. the only benefit of this season and the lack of the usual LI structure is that we were able to fully hone in on these four characters - Finn, Alfie, Dana and of course Suresh. We learned their patterns, what makes them tick, how to get in their head, etc. So what you're saying makes absolute complete sense. Suresh is just following his normal pattern. he sees us standing there at the recoupling and we switch and what does he do? "Suresh moves closer to Lulu, trying his best not to react" Why is he trying not to react? When asked how his night was with Lulu he's visibly uncomfortable and doesnt know where to look. his unusual quietness these episodes, he's pensive! he's in his head rn. Because I think he's scared. He never told MC about his brief fling with Gabi and now here she is in the flesh. He probably thinks any shot at reconciliation is now gone 😭 so he doubles down on Lulu like all the dumb boys do after returning from casa, and in his case its 10 fold because he has all the other ex drama involved too.

can we just have one chat with him though...like please fusebox😭😭

#luckyqueenreignask

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lorelnessa · 6 months

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To whom it may concern:

I have to analyze a text for school, right? It's a fragment of a book about Peru's financial history and it's about the Incas, whether they were socialist and how they use their social structure in current politics, if that makes any sort of sense, I'm translating from Spanish, to Greek and then English, because I'm tired. Anyway, I tried to google the author of the book and here's what happened.

The author's name is Emilio Romero and there was an Emilio Romero who was married to Libertad Lamarque, who was an Argentine actress. So, I then googled Libertad Lamarque, again, I found out her name was Libertad because her father was an anarchist who was in prison when she was born (she gets major points for that) and then I also googled her descendants because I needed to know if she had kids and grankids, for some reason.

Also, I've only seen Libertad Lamarque in la Usurpadora, which means I started singing the song from that show. Except Libertad Lamarque also had beef with Eva Peron and now I'm also reading about what happened to Eva Peron's body after she passed away and I'm singing the Spanish version of Don't cry for me Argentina along with the song from La Usurpadora.

Gaby Spanic was the leading actress in La Usurpadora and I have no idea what she's up to, nor do I particularly care but, as it turns out, she pretended her assistant was poisoning her and her son and tried to have her arrested, for some reason? I think I knew she had a son but I'd forgotten all about it.

Anyway, back to Eva Peron. She was illegitimate, because her father did this thing that men used to do in Argentina, evidently, he was married twice. Also married more than twice? Ruth Wilson's grandfather, which reminds me that Mrs Wilson is in a Greek platform type thing and I should watch it again.

Speaking of Ruth Wilson, this morning I was very rudely awakened by people building across the street and I cancelled all my subscriptions and have no tv but I have a Greek cable thing that came with my internet service and they have The Affair on there and I thought I'd try to watch that because I don't want to watch that mess ever again and I might be able to fall asleep again. I thought I hadn't slept, but I just remembered seeing a sex scene between Alison and Cole and Cole was wearing a dark blue shirt and I hadn't seen that scene before and I was thinking that, for God's fucking sake, how many fucking sex scenes did those people have to film, they're so uncomfortable to watch at this point. That scene didn't exist, I just realized I was dreaming, lmao.

Oh, and Oscar from the Affair just appeared in the Gilded Age, lmao, Julian Fellowes gave him a part, I never thought he'd work again. He's so nice, Julian Fellowes, he even gave work to Wilson from House, bless. <3

All that and I still wrote 100/600 words. My mind is a labyrinth and it is exhausting, lmao.

#ADHD #very unmedicated ADHD #The Affair #Ruth Wilson #Mrs Wilson #Robert Wilson #No more tagging I think I'll play the Sims now

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boo-nito-flakes · 9 months

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Vertigo | Reiner Braun + Original Female Character AU: modern setting, neighbors multi-chapter story Rating: Mature Synopsis: When Josie’s mysterious neighbor becomes a temporary guardian for his young cousin, she didn’t think she’d be so involved. Reiner was a ghost of a neighbor, the two only exchanging a handful of words in the year they’d lived beside each other. Yet there she was, spending her nights watching true crime documentaries and filling out online personality quizzes with Gabi while Reiner was at work at The Liberio. There were a lot of things about this new arrangement Josie didn’t expect; how often she thought about Reiner’s forearms was near the top of the list. This could become a problem…

Chapter Three

It was all Hannah’s fault, really. Typical. In no other universe other than the one where, over a deliciously rich and greasy plate of chicken and waffles at Garrison’s that had Josie feeling all sorts of nostalgic, would she have ever agreed to this… this hell.

To be fair, it seemed like an okay-ish idea at the time.

It’d been months–at least since Christmas break, if not before that–since she’d met up with Hannah. Hannah hugged her like it’d only been a few weeks (like they were long lost best friends and not just casual friends who fell out of touch with one another) and spent the next forty minutes gesticulating through rants about her degree program, her last boyfriend, and her deadbeat older brother Josie 100% didn’t have a huge crush on back in high school.

Josie was fine to sit back and listen; not much ever changed in her life, and she definitely didn’t want to see the glimpses of pity in Hannah’s eyes when she said ‘yeah, same old same old here’ . (Maybe it wasn’t pity. Maybe it was an empathy Josie wasn’t quite ready to accept. And maybe… maybe she had a chip on her shoulder wherever things like college or the future were concerned.) Josie was safe, stably employed, and mostly happy – there was nothing to pity about that at all.

For some reason, the thought of telling Hannah about Gabi and Reiner made her stomach turn. It was easier to shrug a shoulder and play along with whatever story Hannah was telling.

Okay, she knew she was being a little bitchy and standoffish. How else was she supposed to act when her high school friends drifted back in her life when it was convenient for them? Josie wasn’t just in Marley for holidays and breaks; it was her home, and they knew it. So why get overly invested in stories she couldn’t quite relate to, stories about people she didn’t really know or balancing course loads with internships and clubs, when all those ‘we should get together again soon!’ fell flat when fall rolled back around?

Years of wear and tear meant the red vinyl booths at Garrison’s were permanently tacky-feeling, discolored grooves in the shape of human legs warbling the sagging seats. Josie’s bare thighs stuck to the material, making a plastic-y crinkling noise every time she moved. She was focused on the feeling – the peel of flesh, how her skin immediately re-soldered to the plastic – when Hannah waved a ketchup coated fry in her face and said,

“So you probably haven’t talked to Irma.”

“Like recently?” Josie scrunched her face up. Suddenly, she wasn’t all that hungry anymore. “No.”

“Hm. She’s back. Like, in Marley.” A second passed, then a curious, “She didn’t message you?”

Last Josie knew, Irma deleted all her social media profiles when she moved to Germany a month after high school graduation. So no, she definitely didn’t message Josie.

“No, she didn’t.”

Josie reached for her empty drink, slurping the remnants of melted ice and sweet tea from the bottom of the glass. The sludge coated a thick layer in her mouth.

“Weird. She asked me about you.”

The plastic straw gave way to her teeth; she gnawed on the end. What was she even supposed to say to that? Ask what Irma said? Ask if she looked happy? Healthy? Ask if it was easy for her to live her dream life overseas after abandoning Josie all her friends? After breaking Josie’s heart? Irma was Josie’s best friend. Like actual best friend. Her first friend, too, probably.

Irma lived with her grandma in a mobile home a few blocks from Josie’s apartment complex. They met one summer during middle school and were inseparable after that. Irma was the reason Josie joined the basketball team. She was the reason Josie knew how to do a wheelie on her bike. Why she preferred her eggs scrambled and always reached for spearmint gum at the checkout aisle. Why she had any sort of a green thmb (well, that was all Irma’s grandma…) or knew that a warm water bottle compress did more to alleviate period cramps than ibuprofen. She was the reason Josie could pick a lock, drive a car like… at all (if you counted the few lessons in her rusty Ford Taurus – they gave up after Josie almost ran over a pedestrian), and loved dumb reality shows.

Irma was her best friend. At some point, though, she stopped being Irma’s best friend back.

Josie remembered the last night she talked to Irma in waves–bits and pieces of a painful night. A few days after graduation. A party at some rich kids house in one of the confusing suburbs where the roads all had dumb, long confusing names and the houses looked like they were just dropped there from the sky – manicured lawns against stone and stucco. Dirty plastic pong balls bouncing into red solo cups and a live DJ because why the hell not? (She remembered being so fucking bitter about the DJ. Josie’s parents regularly pawned then re-bought their TV to afford rent, and this asshole had a DJ and light show at his house party.) A few drinks in and wanting to impress the private school tool she was hanging off of, Irma opened her mouth and said, “I’ll be back-packing in Europe this summer, actually.”

Josie snorted into her own cup to keep, thinking it was a bit to fuck with or flirt with the dude. Irma’s grandma lived off government assistance, and the glass jar full of tips from Garrison’s on Irma’s dresser was hardly enough money for a few month’s rent, let alone a plane ticket overseas. But Irma kept talking. About an uncle in Germany (who she hated, this part conveniently left out of the story) letting her and her grandma move in with him. Something about a work visa, a message board full of odd jobs, and getting the fuck out of this dead end town.

The alcohol at the party was better than Josie was used to – kegs of domestic brews and a kitchen island covered with mid-shelf liquor and mixers. While Irma talked, Josie stared into the pink tinted liquid, stomach turning, hazy reflection mocking from the depths of the solo cup. By the time her friend switched to fully speaking in German, Ich finde dich suß and Du hast wunderschöne Augen rolling off her tongue perfectly despite her inebriation, Josie felt sick to her stomach. They’d been friends, best friends, for seven years and this was the first time she was hearing about any plans to go to Germany. Immediate plans, at least. Long-term plans. Irma talked about wanting to go someday, but someday was… in less than two weeks? And she didn’t think to tell Josie?

They argued that night.

Not then, with Irma giggling into the ear of whatever boy’s lap she was occupying. Not when Josie let herself be pulled to one of the folding tables in the yard for a riveting game of beer pong. Not when whatever random person she was teamed up with decided their victory was best celebrated with ‘the hard stuff’ and poured at least four ounces of tequila into a little cup, floating a splash of orange juice on the top. And not even when Irma appeared with her lipgloss gone and sporting a fresh hickey, pouting about missing Josie kick ass and duh, of course she was going to win – have you seen this woman shoot a three from half court?

But when the DJ was gone and the strings of mood lights were unplugged, the two of them searching for an unoccupied section of couch or bed in one of the many rooms in the museum-like house, Josie couldn’t help but ask, “Were you being serious? About Germany?”. Irma muttered a tired, “Can’t this wait?” . But it couldn’t. Not to Josie. She didn’t even really remember what was said that night – a blur of alcohol, adrenaline, and hurt. Voice ricocheting in the hallway until a bleary eyed head popped out of one of the rooms, telling them they had to shut up or leave. Irma threw her hands into the air and stormed off, and that was the last time Josie saw her.

Until now, that is.

Because Josie let herself be goaded into signing up for some dumb indoor cycling class Irma was apparently teaching now that she was back in town. Looking as pleased as punch, Hannah leaned across the tacky vinyl top at Garrison’s and told her all about this gym slash spa downtown (a new gym, like there weren’t already a dozen trendy boutique yoga studios and niche gyms cluttering Marley) her mom’s friend opened the previous year. Irma, apparently, was a certified spin instructor and was teaching classes 3 days a week at Paix Wellness Studio. “She’s like, actually insane on the bike,” Hannah gushed before inviting Josie to a class the following weekend.

There was no way in any universe, but especially in their universe, Josie could afford even a month’s membership at Paix or any other gym. Before she could laugh in Hannah’s face and tell her as much, Hannah flattened her palms on the table and said her membership covered three guest visits a month. How generous. Admittedly, Josie was curious. Despondent… but curious. So she said yes.

Naturally, Josie spent the entire week bouncing between wanting to bail and wanting to storm into the class and ask Irma where she got the nerve.

She did neither. As merciful as she was generous (major side eye), Hannah offered to pick Josie up at her apartment so she didn’t have to spend forty minutes hopping buses to get downtown. Josie was so anxious the night before she caved and asked a twelve-year-old for advice. A new low, potentially, but Gabi was kind of the closest thing she had to an actual friend at the moment. There was another shift manager at Paradis Josie would sometimes get lunch or coffee with, but they hadn’t spent a lot of time together since he took over the morning shift. So Gabi, as mortifying as it was to admit, was her only option.

To Gabi’s credit, she only teased Josie a little bit. She was sprawled out on Josie’s living room floor chomping on a rope of licorice, stuttering audio from TikTok videos filling the space between them. There was no way Josie was going to trauma dump a decade’s worth of her friendship troubles onto the girl, so she tried to play the ‘cool and slightly annoyed’ card – groaning and making some comment about meeting up with an old friend for some ludicrous exercise class and how she already regretted it. It took one look from Gabi, sideways and skeptical, for Josie to spill the proverbial beans. She snatched a piece of licorice and flopped dramatically on the couch before confessing it’d been over four years since they last spoke and they didn’t leave on the best of terms… how she was nervous to see her again.

Gabi rolled her eyes, drew her body up to a sitting position – knee length rainbow socks almost mocking as they bounced with her restless energy – and said, “So what? Do you like, care what she thinks or something?”

Good question. Did Josie care what Irma thought?

“A little, I guess. I think… I think I’m more curious to see if she’ll say anything? Like, she unfriended me on everything–”

“That’s so… people your age.”

“Hey! Shut up,” Josie groused, her bite only half-serious. “This was right after high school, anyway. I don’t know. She just… she was my best friend, and then she wasn’t. I thought I was over it, but I think maybe I’m not.”

Nobody ever claimed Josie was eloquent or well-spoken, but this was a new low, even for her. She shoved another piece of licorice in her mouth to fill the silence that followed her groundbreaking admission. Something rattled in the lone vent in the room, the weak air conditioner kicking on.

When Gabi finally did speak, after a dramatic hum that rivaled the noise of the failing air-con unit, she asked, “You won’t know if you’re still mad until you see her, right? So why are you worried about it right now?”

The answer made something press against her ribcage: embittered, more agitated than amused. She regretted saying anything at all. It wasn’t that easy , Josie wanted to snap, the human brain doesn’t work like that – her human brain doesn’t work like that, at least . Like she was some kind of pre-teen mind reader, Gabi raised an eyebrow with a challenge. It said, ‘are you sure?’ and ‘of course they do’ . She looked so unshakeable in her wordless declaration. Auburn hair plaited into two unruly braids, freckled face bright, candy-like bracelets lining her arm, sporting a bleach stained Shiganshina Devils shirt and rainbow knee high socks.

Though she still felt prickly all over, Josie let out a breath and was surprised at how light she felt on the inhale. Was it really that easy? Just… don’t worry about it until it was time to worry about it? Definitely not. But could Josie distract herself enough to convince herself she didn’t care? Absolutely.

“You’re right,” she exhaled, stretching a leg out on the couch. Her muscles felt tight, like over-tuned guitar strings. “I shouldn’t stress out about it.”

This earned her an eye roll. Gabi put her chin on her knee and said, “Yeah right. You’re so gonna stress about it all night.” Ouch. Shots fired . Something playful tinted her expression and she made a big show of picking a piece of lint off her shorts. “So, we should definitely make cookies or something right? To, like, take your mind off it.”

Josie sent her home that night with two dozen cookies. They raided her cabinets for random ingredients, pretending like they were on a cooking show, and ended up with some wins–pretzel and brown sugar, M&M, and a tried and true peanut butter–and some losses–potato chip, and frozen blueberry.

Hannah picked her up in the same Honda Civic she drove in high school, windows down with a poppy hip hop song bleeding into the parking lot. They talked about the most recent episode of some reality dating show they both enjoyed on the drive, and by the time they pulled into a city parking lot downtown, Josie realized she wasn’t terribly anxious to see Irma again after all. She checked her phone for the time on the walk to Paix, heart fluttering when she saw a text from Reiner waiting for her.

(10:48 AM) Reiner : Good morning. Thank you for the breakfast cookies.

good morning! [smiley face emoji] :Josie (10:54 AM)

you’re welcome. which is your favorite? :Josie (10:54 AM)

(10:56 AM) Reiner: I’ve only tried the peanut butter ones. They feel like they’re the most nutritionally balanced.

Josie smiled at her phone. Since exchanging numbers, she and Reiner had texted a few times. Mostly just a few messages about Gabi or his work schedule changing last minute. He had every Sunday and Monday off but went in at different times throughout the week, usually staying to close up the bar. Josie had a set schedule with Sundays and Wednesdays off, working basically the same hours every day of the week to hit a full 40-hour work week. Nearly every night Reiner worked, Gabi wound up at Josie’s place. It’d only been a few weeks, but they were settled into a pretty nice routine.

whatever you have to tell yourself :Josie (10:56 AM)

(10:57 AM) Reiner: To be fair, I’ve had four…

LMAO i rest my case :Josie (10:57 AM)

“What are you giggling about over there?”

Josie resisted the urge to jam her phone in her pocket like a guilty child as they rolled to a stop. Instead, she floundered, “Nothing! I mean, I’m not giggling.”

“Oh my God,” Hannah snorted, a smile pulling at her cheeks. “You still have such a bad poker face.”

“There’s nothing for me to be poker facing over,” Josie said, this time more impassively.

“Right. Well… we’re here.” She waved her hand at the white brick building they were standing in front of. Josie hadn’t even realized. The front windows were frosted, a white and pink vinyl floral logo and Paix Wellness Studio stamped on one of the panes. “Ready to head in? Seriously, be prepared. I wasn’t lying about Irma being absolutely fucking psychotic on the bike.”

“Jeeze, thanks for the confidence booster.”

“In a fun way! Psychotic in a fun way.”

Josie jabbed, “That makes it more ominous! Who has ever said that? Psychotic in a fun way.”

“Me, right now. Quit stalling, let’s go.”

Josie didn’t look at her phone again until she was squirreling her bag away in a rented locker. Surprisingly, she still wasn’t nervous to see Irma. She was slightly worried this entire ordeal was part of some cult induction ceremony based on the way Hannah was acting. And the staff at Paix definitely gave off mild cult vibes, all of them in similar pink uniforms with matching smiles and bleach blonde hair.

(10:58 AM) Reiner: [smiley face with cold sweat emoji] [smiley face emoji]

She closed the locker with a smile on her face.

And promptly lost that smile twenty one minutes later in a fever dream of flashing LEDs pulsing in sync with way too loud EDM music shaking the mirror lined walls. Hannah was right; Irma was fucking psychotic on the bike. Unfortunately, she was lying her ass off about the ‘in a fun way’ part. There wasn’t anything fun about sweating actual buckets, hamstrings quaking while her former best friend, looking bolder than she did at eighteen–features sharper and hair shorter, instructed her and eleven other people to ‘push harder!’, ‘attack this next climb!’, and ‘embrace the burn!’.

It was surreal, in a way, Josie realized after the fact as she wiped her face with a complimentary pink towel (embroidered with the Paix logo, naturally). Of all the ways she imagined her reunion with Irma, it wasn’t like this– at some trendy dime a dozen gym sandwiched between Hannah and a middle aged woman whose bleached curls somehow managed to not move once during the workout, her diamond ring big enough to actually glisten in the reflection of the LEDs as she cycled.

“That was fun, right?” Hannah grinned as she tossed her own towel over her shoulder. “ God , my legs are jelly.”

Josie so didn’t have the energy for this– and her face must’ve said as much because Hannah started laughing.

She shot her a look, only barely resisting the urge to stick her tongue out. “Fun is like, dancing naked in your apartment or playing a pickup game at the park.”

“We have to get you out more if those are your only parameters for fun, Josie.”

Irma, sweat drenched and smiling, materialized out of thin air. She shouldn’t have been surprised; a quick look around the room showed only Hannah and Josie were left. Their reflections blurred with the still flashing LED lights on the wall of mirrors.

“I get out plenty,” Josie said placidly. Her heartbeat thrummed steadily in her ears, and she told herself it was a side effect of the workout still.

Irma’s smile grew wider. “It’s good to see you, Josie. I’m glad Hannah convinced you to come to a class.”

“She said you were, and I quote, ‘fucking insane’. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see for myself.”

“Fucking insane on the bike ,” Hannah corrected with a pout.

“Either way, I hope I didn’t disappoint.”

“Still deciding,” Josie quipped with a shoulder shrug. “But I’m a little worried I won’t be able to climb the stairs at my place, so as much as I hate to admit it, Hannah might be right.”

“Hey! Don’t say it like that.”

“We used to bike across town all the time. Like all the way out past the Flats and back.” The Flats being an abandoned strip mall at the far edge of town frequently used by local teens as a hang out-slash-party spot. Even after all these years, it was still abandoned and the police had long given up on monitoring the area. “There’s no way a forty-five minute spin class is going to be what takes you out.”

Josie figured it wasn’t tactful to say her bike was stolen a few years back and she hadn’t been on one since. “You weren’t yelling at me to ‘find my groove’ or whatever and keeping me at 150 BPMs back then.”

“Fair point.”

“There are complimentary hydration packs and fruit at the front desk. We’ll grab some on the way out,” Hannah suggested. “It’ll help any cramps, for sure.”

“Complimentary hydration packs?” Josie parroted. There was a food-covered microwave in the break room at Paradis Mart and a sign on the ancient refrigerator that said ‘smile, you’re on camera!’ to prevent theft. The thought of complimentary anything was laughable. “Seriously?”

Hannah scrunched her nose. “What?”

And Irma laughed. “Hannah, dude. Your head is so far up your ass.”

“My ass is perky and cute, thank you very much. Great place to be. Five out of five stars.”

“Sure is, but that was like, kind of entitled sounding.”

Instead of agreeing, Josie muttered, “Cult sounding.”

Irma’s laugh turned to a wheeze.

“I forgot how evil the two of you are together,” Hannah sulked, crossing her arms. “Besides, Irma, if it’s a cult you’re like totally involved.”

“When in Marley,” Irma shrugged. She tilted her head Josie’s way. “I know it sounds bougie as fuck, but the owner has some sponsorship deal with LiquidIV and gets massive discounts on bulk orders so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Sure.” Josie’s stomach felt sour, and she was suddenly very aware of how tired–physically and mentally–she was after a morning of…whatever this was. Exercise and weird reunions? Regardless, she wanted to go home and take a long nap. “I graciously accept the complimentary, definitely not poison, hydration pack.”

“We shouldn’t tell her about the crystals and hot yoga class,” Irma deadpanned towards Hannah.

“Okay, well.” Josie clapped her hand on her thighs. “This has been fun. Enlightening, even.”

“That’s my cue,” Irma laughed, smile not unkind. She always could read Josie too well. The realization made Josie’s chest tighten… and not in a good way. “I need to get ready for my desk shift, anyway. It really is good to see you, Josie.”

Josie heard herself echo, “Yeah, you too.”

A weight clung to her shoulders the entire way to the locker room, growing heavier as the silence stretched between her and Hannah. There was, at least, a lofi jazzy soundtrack to the tension, courtesy of the speakers tucked in the corner of the subway tiled room. She tapped the code to the locker into the digital keypad and swiped her bag. There was a row of sparkling shower stalls on the other side of the room, but Josie didn’t think Hannah was going to offer to stick around any longer than necessary.

They walked past the hydration packs and fruit basket on the way out.

And by the time they got to Hannah’s car, Josie felt like shit. The fresh air loosen whatever clung to her ribcage, and without the strobing LED lights blasting into her brain, she realized she was kind of acting like an asshole. Maybe it was justified. Maybe she could’ve handled the whole situation better. Maybe all of them could’ve handled it better.

Hannah cranked the air conditioner and didn’t sync her music. Josie knew she fucked up.

She waited a few streets, until they were out of the rush of downtown traffic (until she had enough courage), to say, “Thank you for inviting me today. That place was a little out of my comfort zone, but I really did have fun.” She hesitated for a split second, casting her eyes from the front window to the side pane. “I know I was kind of acting like a dick. I’m sorry. It was just… weird seeing Irma. We haven’t talked in years.”

Silence stretched down another street.

“I didn’t know that.” The turn signal ticked a steady noise. “She seemed really excited to see you.”

“Irma’s good at reading people,” Josie said, like it was some kind of explanation.

“Or maybe she, I don’t know, cares about you? When I told her you were coming to today’s class, she was like, so happy.”

Of course she was; Irma was the main character in her own story, and she either didn’t care or recognize that other people had their own lives. In the years after she left, Josie had a lot of time to think about their friendship. Friendship in general, really… because it wasn’t just Irma that left her.

Some nights she warmed her couch with a box of wine, endless questions of ‘ what did I do wrong? ’ and ‘ maybe I’m meant to be this lonely ’ looping in her mind. A soundtrack to the memories that wormed their way out of the boxes she tried shoving them into. Maybe people like Hannah still reached out every now and then, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t cramming as many bodies as possible in the back of a Honda Civic, music blasting, shitty wine coolers poured into fast food cups, speeding down backroads. It wasn’t sleepovers with gossip and Guitar Hero. It wasn’t pick up game after pick up game.

Other nights, the script flipped. ‘ Woe is me ’ easily turned to ‘ fuck you, and you, and you ’. It was just as lonely, but a little more cathartic.

Josie bit her cheek and swallowed the urge to snap back, knowing she’d regret whatever she said. She let Hannah’s words sit between them for another road before composing herself enough to say, “The summer she left we got into a huge fight at some party. Do you remember? I had to call Lucy for a ride at like, three in the morning.” Lucy was the most mom-like of their friend group, the most reliable at picking up late night calls. She didn’t say a word when Josie insisted they drive by Irma’s place to make sure she was there and not wrapped around a tree. “That’s the last time I saw or talked to her. She blocked my number and refused to answer the door.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. I had no clue she was going to Germany until that night. She got mad when I brought it up, and we fought. Then she left.”

Another block blurred past the window. They were so close to Josie’s complex, she could cry with relief. She just needed to make it a little longer, a few more minutes, and then she could shower, hide under a mountain of blankets, and pretend like the entire day didn’t happen.

“I heard about the fight, but I didn’t see you before I left for Trost.”

“Yeah. Not a lot of people did.”

It came out more bitter than Josie wanted it to, but fuck it. What was the point in pretending like she didn’t care anymore?

Neither of them spoke again until Hannah pulled into the weed congested lot at Josie’s apartment complex. Josie’s hand was practically twitching on the handle as Hannah rolled to a stop in front of the entrance. She kept the car in drive, the locks engaged while she idled. Before Josie could orchestrate her great escape, Hannah cleared her throat. She had one hand on her steering wheel, the other fiddling with her spandex leggings.

“I wouldn’t have dragged you along today if I knew you weren’t, like, on good terms with Irma. I’m realizing I’ve kind of been a shitty friend, too, but… I don’t know. I just wish you would’ve told me. We could’ve done anything else.”

A dozen excuses weighed Josie’s tongue. But looking at Hannah, still a little sweaty from their class – eyes looking through the windshield and hands jittery, she felt just as guilty of being a bad friend. Maybe all those late nights in an echo chamber of her own creation warped her perspective on things. Maybe Hannah was actually… fuck, Hannah was genuine and Josie was the one being a bitch, wasn’t she?

“I wanted to go. I was morbidly curious, I guess.” Josie tasted iron when she spoke and the inside of her cheek throbbed. “I should’ve said something though, you’re right. It wasn’t fair to put you in the middle.”

“It’s not like I asked.” She shot Josie a warbly yet tired smile and unlocked the doors. “Next time you’re picking what we do.”

Josie’s chest squeezed at her ‘next time’ . Hearing Hannah say the words out loud made her realize she actually… she actually did want there to be a next time with Hannah. Despite the way she’d been dragging her feet and griping about well, basically every social interaction, Josie missed hanging out with someone her age who she wasn’t also going to see in the breakroom at work.

“Maybe something involving copious amounts of alcohol?” Josie suggested mildly.

Hannah snorted. “Yes, absolutely.”

By the time she all but crawled through her apartment door a few minutes later, Josie was drained–mentally and physically, smelled like death, and was in desperate need of carbs. A shower sounded like heaven, and there was a container of leftovers in the fridge calling her name. Instead of doing any of the things that would immediately improve her wellbeing, Josie flopped backwards on her floor in an attempt to not get her gross post-gym-ness all over her couch and groaned (rather dramatically, in her humble opinion) . A few minutes of moping was more than enough to at least ease the pit in her stomach.

Itchy with drying sweat and guilt, Josie decided a shower was the first priority… after a handful of pretzels. She fished her phone out of her bag, ditched by the front door and forgotten, on the way to the kitchen.

(11:19 AM) Gabi: hey

(11:19 AM) Gabi: do u have hulu

(11:23 AM) Gabi: [photo of tv screen with hulu pulled up and on a show called Escaping the Backrooms ]

(11:23 AM) Gabi: we should watch this

(11:31 AM) Gabi: [screenshot of advertisement for Escaping the Backrooms ]

(11:31 AM) Gabi: wait ur at that dumb class u didnt want to go to

(11:34 AM) Gabi: hopefully u didnt kill ur friend

(11:34 AM) Gabi: reiner knows a cop if u need bail

A fond, if not exasperated, smile worked itself onto her face as she skimmed the messages. She thumbed over to her browser and did a quick search of the show; it wasn’t like they hadn’t watched absolute garbage in the few weeks Gabi had been hanging out at her place.

I don’t know if bail works like that but I appreciate the offer :Josie (12:19 PM)

And I don’t have Hulu, but this show sounds fun. I like Darius Art :Josie (12:19 PM)

(12:20 PM) Gabi: who

He’s the main actor in this backrooms show lol :Josie (12:20 PM)

(12:21 PM) Gabi: oh ok

(12:21 PM) Gabi: reiner says we can use his hulu account

(12:21 PM) Gabi: glad u didn’t go to jail

Was that ever a question… :Josie (12:22 PM)

Actually don’t answer that :Josie (12:22 PM)

(12: 22 PM) Gabi: ok i wont but reiner is also glad u didnt get arrested

Josie thought about responding with a string of key smashes. She thought about walking next door to ask Gabi why she was such a little shithead. She thought about Reiner, plain black tee stretched across his chest and face scruffy with stubble shooting her a confused smile. She put her phone down and went to take a shower.

Escaping the Backrooms was a four part mockumentary style show with a surprisingly fleshed out set and actors, like Darius Art with his adorable head of curls and killer smile, who were actually pretty good.

Josie couldn’t tell you a single thing about the show otherwise. Because she was in Reiner’s apartment.

She didn’t realize ‘Reiner says we can use his Hulu account’ translated to ‘hey you can come over to our place to watch the show’ . So she found herself inside her not so mysterious neighbor’s apartment, without him, on a Tuesday evening. Freshly showered, dressed in a respectable pair of leggings and an oversized graphic tee, and armed with a takeout bag from the deli inside Paradis Mart, she knocked on the door.

It was weird to see her apartment but… not her apartment. The space was laid out the same, opening right into the living and dining space with a half-wall leading into the galley kitchen. A short hallway seemed to lead to the bathroom, a bedroom, and a linen closet. She didn’t knock on the door with any expectations but was surprised by the space, regardless.

Like most twenty-something dude’s place, it was furnished in shades of black and a deep burgundy. A deep set fabric sofa (black, naturally) was positioned around a dark rectangular coffee table, top only housing a gaming controller, a few coasters, a sticker-bombed water jug not on a coaster, and a lit candle–something sugary and warm. A fuzzy red throw blanket was tossed over the back cushions. The TV was a little larger than hers but not unreasonable, sitting on a media stand that seemed to match the coffee table. There was a large framed black and white photo of some mountains mounted behind the television, but the walls were otherwise bare.

Where Josie had a tiny bistro set was what she assumed to be Gabi’s space. Not wanting to breach a sensitive subject, she never asked about the sleeping arrangements at Reiner’s place. She assumed it was a 1-bedroom unit, like hers, but didn’t think too much more about it out of necessity. It was clear that Reiner did think a lot about it, though, and went out of his way to make sure Gabi had her own area.

A twin sized bed with built in storage beneath the mattress was tucked against the wall. The bed was sloppily made, a fluffy comforter with a rainbow ombre pattern wrinkled with one edge flipped up to show the neon pink sheets. There were at least a dozen stuffed animals lined against the wall: a shark with a missing eyeball, bears in 3 different colors and sizes, a handful of Squishmallows, and a tattered looking cat rounded out the bunch. A slim nightstand, wide enough to hold a lamp and not much else, tucked against the bed. A phone charger wrapped around the lamp base. Beside the nightstand was a three shelf bookcase cluttered with what she assumed to be Gabi’s things–nail polishes, piles of bracelets, brimming craft bins, a few board games, and a remote controlled monster truck Gabi enthusiastically demonstrated for her later in the evening.

So maybe it was a little difficult to focus on the plot of a cheesy, yet well cast, mockumentary when she was nestled up on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket that smelled like Irish Springs and something distinctly male. And maybe when she looked over and saw Gabi fast asleep on the other side of the couch Josie let her eyes close instead of turning the TV off and walking the short distance back to her apartment. Could anyone really blame her? She dreamed of yellowing backrooms, of warm hands and a broad chest.

“Josie.”

She tugged the blanket up to her chin, groaning at the new chill at her feet, and tried burrowing into the couch further.

“Josie… Josie, hey. Wake up.”

“Mmm. No. Go away.”

There was a low chuckle. “I’ll go away in a minute. First I need to get you to bed.”

“Bed?” She mimicked, scrunching her face as she rolled a little towards the voice. The couch was nice; she was warm and cozy, but not all that comfortable. There was already a slight kink in her neck from laying at an awkward angle, and Gabi’s leg was stretched out and wedged under a cushion so that one of her feet was jammed into Josie’s side. “Bed sounds good.”

“Yeah?” A gentle touch to her shoulder had Josie melting deeper in the couch. “I bet. Come on.”

The warmth around her started to disappear. She reached for the top of the blanket only to grasp at air. Josie made a pathetic languid noise and forced her eyes open a crack, just enough to squint at… wait… to squint at…

“Reiner?” She mumbled. It was him, alright. The room was dark but she could still see him, backlit with some kind of angelic fucking lighting as he kneeled next to the couch. He was warm and close and God, he smelled so good. So she was still dreaming, then? A dopey smile lifted her lips a little, and she struggled to open her eyes more. “Reiner, hi.”

“Hi, Josie.”

“You’re in my dream.”

“Ah, man.” His hand was on her arm–her bare arm. (Dream Josie was so lucky.) When he laughed, it was a tiny abashed noise that melted into the darkness. “You must be a deep sleeper. Okay… shit.”

A new determination to not let the dream version of herself have all the fun settled in her sleepy, Reiner-addled brain. Her arm was as heavy as Excalibur, but she lifted it enough to press her palm against Reiner’s chest. The warmth she was missing from the blanket came back, and then some. She curled her fingers into the fabric, humming at the hard wall of muscle that greeted her.

“Bed?” she asked Dream Reiner. Legs stiff but somehow tingling, she scooted her body to a half-upright position using his chest as an anchor point.

He sucked air through his teeth; the hissing noise echoing through the otherwise still room. It reverberated through her bones. Even this version of Reiner was hesitant, if not bashful. Maybe it was a trick of the light–or lack of light–but through the sleepy slits of her eyes, she watched a blush bloom down his neck. Any and every version of Reiner was handsome, she decided, no matter what universe or dreamscape he landed in. Luckily, this version was close enough to the real thing that Josie’s heart ached at their closeness. Her fingers twitched; she wanted to be closer, curled up in his warmth with that blush beneath her lips.

Reiner covered her hand with one of his own, fingers looping beneath hers. Her name was a soft breath. “Josie.”

This was the part where Dream Reiner would swoop her into his arms and carry her to bed.

This was the part where… Dream Reiner… pulled her hand away, his hold moving to her shoulder, and helped her to her feet. Okay. She could get behind this. The fuzzy blanket that was now way too warm and sticky feeling fell to the couch as Josie took a wobbly step past Reiner. The hand on her shoulder tightened as she swayed on her feet. The bedroom was only a few steps away; she quite literally could make the walk in her sleep. Her next attempt at a step was slightly more productive than the last, but she didn’t make it very far. Reiner’s hand flexed then loosened on her shoulder, still holding her in place. Her shirt must’ve rucked sideways at some point because a few of his fingers pressed against her bare collarbone. Was that her heartbeat she felt or his?

Bleary-eyed, Josie looked over her shoulder (well, over and up – did all versions of Reiner have to be this tall?!?) and mustered enough energy to furrow a brow. She parroted. “Bed?”

A few things happened all at once.

Reiner’s expression went from disconcerted to tormented back to disconcerted before softening into a smile. His hand slid down her arm, fingers leaving streaks of warmth Josie hoped never faded. Voice tender and guiding, he said, “Josie, wake up. You’re at my place still.”

Josie squinted at him for one of those impossibly long seconds that bled into another impossibly long second. The haze holding her somewhere between dreamworld and reality vaporized, and she realized with a painful clarity that he was right–she was at his place still. Which meant her whole roaming hands act was perpetrated on Reiner, not some fantasy dream version of him she cooked up in her brain. Her brain that was now short circuiting as she tried piecing together bits of her weird dream that maybe definitely wasn’t a dream. If Gabi wasn’t still dead to the world and snoring lightly on the edge of the couch, Josie would have screamed.

She settled for a wide-eyed harshly whispered, “Oh. Cool, um, yes. I am awake. Hi.”

Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness (the vent light casting a fluorescent glow from the kitchen helped, she was sure), and now without sleep crusting the corners, she could see Reiner more clearly. He was dressed in his standard black work tee–now visibly dirty–and a pair of jeans, blonde hair unusually disarrayed and sticking in every direction. A stubble that seemed permanent curved around his jaw, around the amused quip to his lips–an almost smirk. And even though he looked exhausted, there was something bright and searching reflecting in the hazel sparks of his eyes.

“You’re a heavy sleeper, too, huh?” He waved a hand towards Gabi. “She sleeps like the dead. When she was younger my mom and I took her to one of those Christmas rock orchestra shows. She fell asleep during one of the first few songs–not even the pyrotechnics woke her up. I carried her three blocks to the parking garage and strapped her into her seat before she even made a noise.”

Josie thought of a teenage Reiner sitting dutifully in the audience with his mom. She wondered if Reiner took after her or his father. She wondered if they were around, if they still talked to him, if he still went to Christmas shows with them. She thought of Reiner hoisting a tiny Gabi, probably still stressed loudly and definitely, over his shoulder and carrying her through the streets. She thought about what it would be like to have family like that–to have family, at all.

“More a deep sleeper than a heavy one,” she said, fighting and failing to keep a yawn at bay. She hid it poorly behind her hand. “Sorry.” Was she apologizing for the yawn, falling asleep, or groping him? All three, probably. She took a step towards the hallway. “I’ll just um, head to bed. My own bed.”

Reiner gave a half-snort, half-laugh. “You might want to go the other direction. Out that door, a few steps to the right.”

“Right, yes, totally!” Josie was too tired not to scowl at him. She started walking in the correct direction, then double backed to grab her bag from beside the couch. Her keys were undoubtedly buried near the bottom of the mess. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Goodnight, Josie. Thank you for hanging out with Gabi.”

“One, anytime. Two, goodnight. Three, please forget I was here.”

She felt more than heard his laughter through the closed door. Josie waited until she face-planted in her bed to scream.

Reiner (11:41 AM): Are you home right now?

Kinda :Josie (11:42 AM)

[photo of the shared apartment laundry room – a dingy linoleum lined dungeon with cracked concrete floors, standing water pooling by a drain near the door. half the room was shroud in a yellowy hue, the other half dark – the flimsy plastic cover over the strip lights left dangling] :Josie (11:42 AM)

Might get murdered down here… or accidentally gas myself. I think one of the dryers is venting into the room? [frowning emoji] :Josie (11:42 AM)

There weren’t any messages waiting for Josie by the time she finished loading her laundry into a washing machine, scowling at every quarter she jammed into the shitty piece of equipment. An “are you home” text was just as bad as “can we talk” . Had she not woken up and immediately remembered the mortifying circumstances of her existence, she wouldn’t be worried. But she’d basically groped the man, for fuck’s sake, so the lack of a text back sent a spiral of anxiety through her.

Josie’s shoe scuffed against the second to last stair on the way back to her apartment, and her heart dropped to her stomach. Reiner didn’t message her back, but he was waiting for her in the hallway; leaned against the wall between their units, his eyes shifted from his phone to Josie. He slid his phone in his pocket all while aiming a measured smile in her direction.

“Hey.”

She adjusted the laundry bag under her arm as she approached him, mimicking a “hey” back. It was unfair how good Reiner always looked. There was almost always a scruff clinging to his jaw and a smudge of darkness beneath his eyes, his hair a little wild. He was wearing a bright white shirt with some athletic company logo printed across the chest and a pair of black sweatpants. Until that point, she was pretty confident his wardrobe was filled entirely with shades of black.

“I thought I’d just run down to the laundry room instead of texting. Made it out the door before I thought it might be weird to just drop in on you,” he admitted sheepishly. “Waiting by your door is just as weird, I guess.”

The itchy anxious feeling in her stomach gave way to a bubbly sensation. Josie laughed as she unlocked her door. “Well stop being weird, then, and come in.”

Even though Josie spent a majority of the past few weeks hanging out with Gabi in her living room, she’d yet to have Reiner over. There’d never really been a reason. Josie tossed her bag onto the couch and, in an effort to keep pretending like she wasn’t maybe totally freaking out at Reiner being in her space, she tilted her head towards the kitchen and asked, “Do you want any coffee?”

“Sure,” He said after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s a fresh pot,” Josie explained, happy to let her nervous jitters fill the quiet, as she pulled down two of her favorite mugs. A ceramic mushroom-themed gnome house, rim shaped to be a bulbous red head with white spots and a painted on front door and shuttered windows, for herself and for Reiner, a promotional item for a random crab shack–a white and blue checkered pattern wrapping the cup behind a cartoon crab waving from the front seat of a pink cadillac. “I have a caramel creamer and milk.”

“Just black, thanks.”

“So,” she reached for the fridge, holding the door with the side of her foot so she could quickly add a splash of creamer to her cup, “We’ve established you’re definitely not being weird by sending cryptic texts and lurking outside my door.”

“I wasn’t lurking, ” Reiner puffed to her back, the linoleum floor crinkling as he stepped into the kitchen.

Josie raised an eyebrow, turning to hand him the steaming crab mug. “Okay. You weren’t lurking.”

“I wasn’t,” he said again.

Josie would’ve made fun of his pouting a little more, but their fingers brushed as he took the cup and she short-circuited, a memory of her palm scratching into his chest stuttering behind her eyes. She curled her fingers into her palms and turned for her own drink.

“You weren’t lurking,” she repeated, grinning at him over the rim of her cup. “So you’re here because…”

The tips of Reiner’s ears were red. She told herself it was from the heat of the coffee.

“I know it’s short notice, but Sunday I’m taking Gabi and her friend Falco to the State Fair. I wanted to invite you to go with… us.”

“Oh.” That was absolutely not what she expected. The State Fair? She went once in high school with some of the girls from the basketball team. They spent too much money on ride tickets and fried foods, flirting with strangers and getting too competitive over carnival games. It was one of those classic, all American teenage nights that was a core memory for her.The thrill she felt was short-lived, though, when she remembered there was a reason she didn’t go to the State Fair more often–it was a few hours away by car. “I um, would love to go, but I really don’t have a way to get there.”

A twitch of disappointment, then confusion, pulled at Reiner’s face. “I know. I’m offering to drive.”

She found herself once again saying, “Oh.”

“What type of asshole would invite you somewhere almost three hours away and not also take you?” He asked with an impish edge. She caught the edge of a smile before his cup covered it completely.

“I don’t know!” Josie whined.

“To be clear, I’m offering to pay, too.”

“Reiner,” she protested, whole body going flush.“That’s too much, no. ”

“It’s not though. Consider it a thank you for your help lately.”

“It’s not… I’m not–”

“I know.” Reiner put his cup down and looked at Josie with what was undoubtedly fondness–a type she wasn’t quite ready to face head-on. “I know you’re not. I just.. I just want to do this for you, Josie.”

She didn’t want to face it, but she found it impossible to look away. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“It’s been years since I’ve had the chance to go to the State Fair. It sounds like a fun time.”

Over the past few weeks Josie learned that Reiner had all sorts of smiles. Exasperated ones, often directed at Gabi. Self-effacing ones and relieved ones and ones that stayed trapped between his teeth. There were cordial smiles in the hallway and appreciative ones on the other side of her door. Smiles for baked goods and smiles for bad jokes.

This was probably her favorite smile, though, if she had to pick. Hazel eyes twinkling with affection and a row of teeth peeking from behind widely stretched lips.

“Same. One of my coworkers mentioned it started last weekend. Gabi’s never been, so I asked if she’d want to check it out.”

“Like any twelve year old would say no to deep fried Oreos and carnival games.”

“Yeah,” Reiner laughed a little, “I didn’t even get the whole question out before she was inviting Falco.”

“That tracks.”

“It’ll be good for them. They go to the same school, but they haven’t seen each other a lot lately,” he confided, fingers curling around his mug. “The Grice’s were my neighbors almost my entire life. Falco and Colt are like family, honestly.” His shoulders slumped a little. “We had Gabi a lot. Her dad wasn’t around, and her mom was working two jobs. My mom had a part time gig so she was able to help with Gabi. But she left my dad my senior year, and we moved in with my grandparents in Arcadia. Val–Gabi’s mom–doesn’t get along with their parents, so she stopped asking my mom for help.”

“That’s a dumb reason… sorry.”

Reiner set his empty cup in the sink between a cluster of unwashed silverware and her unwashed oatmeal bowl from breakfast. “No, it’s okay. I was getting carried away, anyway.”

“Can I ask you something that’s probably too personal so feel free to say no?”

“Sure.”

“Why isn’t Gabi with your mom now?”

“Ah. Well,” He smiled, and it was one of those tender-eyed ones that made Josie’s heart do somersaults. “She remarried last year, and they just moved a few hours away for Ron’s job. Val only agreed to get help if we kept things as normal as possible for Gabi. Staying with me seemed like the best option all around.”

Agreed to get help. Both Reiner and Gabi were rightfully tight-lipped about the situation with her mom. It wasn’t like Josie was prying, anyway. She knew how complicated and messy family could be. She wasn’t going to ask him to clarify what kind of help – this was already plenty of information to fill in the gaps.

“I agree,” Josie said softly.

“Speaking of Gabi, I should probably get back over there. We have some errands to run before my shift, and I promised her we could stop at the craft store while we’re out.”

“So I should be prepared for slime and or a lot of yarn tonight?”

“She said something about making soap, actually,” Reiner chuckled.

“Got it. Soap making, I can handle.”

He raised an eyebrow playfully. “Were you worried about yarn?"

“Yarn is a very dangerous item, thank you very much. A lethal weapon in some places.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do my part in keeping yarn out of the hands of our youth.”

“My hero,” she drawled sarcastically.

“It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it.”

“Okay,” Josie snorted. She placed her empty mug in the sink with a lot less finesse than Reiner, cup clattering with the silverware. She felt bubbly enough to ignore the voice in her head that said touching him was a bad idea. She bumped her shoulder lightly against his arm. “Thanks for your dedication and vigilant service.”

“You know, something about that doesn’t feel all that genuine, Josie,” Reiner tsk-ed, eyes bright.

“I’m being nothing but genuine, Reiner,” She said back.

They were by her door, neither seemingly overly eager to say goodbye. A few seconds of silence stretched comfortably between them.

“I’ll let you know more about Sunday when I actually figure out what the plan is. I think I saw online that they do a fireworks show every weekend. Gabi and Falco will definitely want to stay for those, so it will probably be a long day.”

“Fireworks, huh?”

A wistfulness settled into Josie. She wanted to drink a ridiculously sugary lemonade with a bendy straw. She wanted to listen to a kind of really good local cover band play alternative music from the 90s. And she wanted to watch fireworks with Reiner.

“Yeah, fireworks.” Reiner smiled at her from the open door. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Have fun with your errands. Don’t let Gabi bully you into slime.”

“Or yarn,” he added.

“Or yarn, right.”

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Josie closed the door to her apartment and promptly fell into her bed face first. She groaned a pathetic noise into the sheets. She was in deep. Too deep, probably. Fuck.

When she went to flip her laundry a half hour later, the light was fixed–fluorescent bulbs changed and secured behind the plastic screen, there was a handwritten ‘out of order’ sign on the questionably murderous dryer, and the stagnated water puddle was gone.. Josie moved her clothes to one of the non-life threatening dryers with a smile on her face.

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