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whiskeyghoul · 1 month

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Pt.5 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

First chapter, Previous chapter, Next chapter

A/N: Get ready for some angst baby. So this is my first time writing something close to angsty. Which means I might not have completely perfected it yet. Then again there needs to be a first for everything. I hope you enjoy reading, and if you do, please let me know. My reqs are also open if people have any ideas they want to see written.

WC: 2,7K

Tags: Mild angst, conflicting feelings, a little hurt/comfort?, alt reader, realizing feelings, I don’t think this chapter is considered fluff.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, feeling alone, hinting at past relationships?

Spencer POV

It was Thursday afternoon when Spencer had returned from a case. It was short, quick, which was nice because he wanted to go back to you. He had tried to call while away, to text you when he had time. Yet for some reason you hardly responded. You were slow to answer texts, the answers always short and quick. You had avoided his calls, when you did pick up they were equally as short as your texts. The tone was distant and a little cold. It was strange to him. The date had gone well, in his opinion, and he didn’t think he had done anything wrong. It was just a little nerve wracking. With every short message, every cut off call, his anxiety grew.

When they got back to Quantico, he was ready to head straight to your lab. Though he noticed there was no music when he arrived there, it was quiet inside. Too quiet. He gently knocked on the frosted glass door. There was no sound from inside, no light coming through the door. No indication that you were there. His shoulders sagged down, a little deflated. He had been looking forward to seeing you again, even if it was just to settle his own nerves. His hand found the cellphone in his pocket, he scrolled through the names until he found yours. Pressing the call button, he just really wanted to hear your voice. Needing to know if you were okay, if he hadn’t done something wrong. The phone rang, 3 times, heart beating out of his chest before you picked up.

“Hello, Y/N’s phone! Penelope speaking.” The familiar voice of their technical analyst sounded from the other end of the phone. Spencer furrowed his brow a little, “Hey, it’s Spencer… Is she with you?” He asked, his left hand holding on to the bottom edge of his sweater. “Oh! Spence! She just headed to the toilet, she should be back soon. Want me to take a message?” Penelope answered, her voice chipper, she probably didn’t know you had been avoiding him. Or if she did she didn’t let it show. “Can I come talk to her?” He asked, still a bundle of nerves, the bad kind. The one where a nauseous feeling settles in your stomach. Where every word could send him into a spiral if it was said with the wrong tone. “Ofcourse, I am sure you have a lot to talk about.” Penelope spoke, and he could tell there was something in her voice. She knew what was going on. It made his stomach sink further.

Just like that his feet started moving already towards Penelope’s office. “Thanks, I’ll be there in a minute.” Spencer said and quickly hung up before anything she could say would make it worse. He was quick, hoping to be there before you came back, so you couldn’t avoid him. He was there in a minute, like he had said, quickly and almost feverishly knocking on the door. The rapid rap of his knuckles against the solid wood sounded hollow in his ears. Penelope opened, trying to put on a bubbly smile. Though he peered past her to see if you were already back. No sign yet. “Hey, you should come in.” Penelope opened the door wider and he stepped past her. “Has she said anything? About me?” Spencer’s question felt weird. He didn’t want to come across as clingy, or that he was obsessed, but he just had to understand why. Why had you been avoiding him?

“Slow down boy wonder. I think I am not the one to tell you about that.” Penelope answered as she closed the door, pointing towards one of the desk chairs. Spencer hadn’t noticed how he had been nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet until she did. He sat down, trying to regain some composure. “Did I do something wrong? I thought the date went well. Maybe I rambled too much… That's usually what happens. I should have just stayed quiet, listened to her.” He rambled off nervously, his mind spiraling back to when he had leaned in and told a fact when you had been expecting something completely different. But you had kissed him after that, twice, it was so conflicting. Confusing. Paradoxical.

“Breathe!” Penelope urged, grabbing one of her many mugs with water and forcing it into Spencer’s hands. He took a gulp, hoping it would calm his nerves but it didn’t do anything. At Least he was silent. “Just…” Penelope sighed, “I can tell you that you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” Spencer nodded his head, taking another swig of the lukewarm water. He hoped it hadn’t been out for too long, who knew what bacteria were growing if it had. Though the idea of it was a mere whisper in the back of his mind as his entire consciousness was taken up by his worried thoughts. “I should have told you before, I really should have but I didn’t expect it to happen this quickly.” Penelope sounded dejected. “What happened? Just tell me, please?” He didn’t like how whiny that please sounded, how desperate it made him sound. Even though he was desperate for answers.

The door to Penelope’s office opened, “Honestly Pen, I don’t get why you have to be so far away from the b-” You stopped your sentence as your eyes met Spencer. He was desperately clinging on to the cup he was holding like it was his life line. “Hi…” was all he managed to say when he saw you. Even with all the conflicting feelings, your appearance still left him a little tongue tied. You weren’t wearing the lab coat, so he could fully appreciate your appearance. The black and red patterned dress was cut low, and hugged your hips and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Your arms are covered with fishnet fabric, some parts more ripped up to create a few larger holes. More important to him was the belt, two clips extending to hold the hem, hiking up the skirt of your dress to show off just a sliver of your thigh. “Spencer.” The way you said his name still made his heart race. He got up from his chair, placing the mug back on Penelope’s desk. The blonde in question nudged you, Spencer could almost see the thoughts swimming behind your eyes. You must be just as nervous as he is. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Penelope said, quickly walking out the door of her own space, leaving the two of you there. Spencer’s heart was beating so loud, he could feel the blood rush under the skin of his hands. It was too silent as you both looked at eachother.

“I want to-” “Why didn’t you-” Both of you spoke at the same time, breaking through the silence. There was a slight, awkward, chuckle that left Spencer. “You can go first.” He said, wringing his hands together involuntarily. “I want to apologize…” You said it softly. Spencer’s eyes flicked down to your right hand, twisting in the fabric of your dress. Your left was steadily turning a ring on your finger. Everything you did screamed nervous to him. “What for?” He asked, eyes focussed on you. He wanted to see everything, piece together every unconscious movement that would give away a deeper meaning. “For being a bit absent. I just… had a lot of work.” Lie. That was a lie. Spencer could see it. The way you averted your eyes, how your hand stilled in the twisting of the ring, your breathing hitched up as you said the last part of your sentence. Everything pointed to it being a lie. He hated that he could see that.

You felt the need to lie to him. To temper his feelings by trying to explain away what had really happened. There were tens of thousands of thoughts swimming through his mind about what could have happened. Did you meet someone else? Or realize he wasn’t your type. The differences being too big to make it work. “Could you tell me the truth?” He didn’t mean for that to come out. Especially when he saw the surprise in your eyes. “I am. I was busy, I had a lot of evidence to sort through, drugs, nail scrapings. I also had the reports to write and- and-” You were trying to convince yourself that it was the truth. That hurt. Apparently you didn’t want him to know the real reason. “Y/N. I am a behavioral analyst, I can tell when you lie. Please just… don’t? I want to know what happened, I thought we had a good time at the museum. I just, did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to, and I can’t change it if you don’t tell me.” He was pleading now. Eyes on you as you looked for an answer, lips slightly parted as you breathed out. Taking a step closer, reaching out his hand to yours. Just to hold it in his, feel you, decide if this was either a bad nightmare or a terrible reality.

When Spencer felt your hand in his he closed his eyes for a moment. This was real. He opened his eyes again, the only focus was on yours. Waiting. Watching to see your response. “Spencer, it wasn’t anything you did. Trust me. You did nothing wrong, it was perfect, and I wish I could have stayed in that museum forever.” You spoke, not averting your gaze, looking him in the eye with full confidence. Not even a tremor in your voice. That was the truth.

“Then what happened? I don’t like that you’re ignoring me. It feels like just the entire pit of my stomach gave out. Did I move too fast? I’m not good with these things. But I really, really, like you. You do all these things to me. Just… I can’t take the silent treatment. Not from you.” There it was with a sigh. His feelings, out in the open. Hoping it was enough for you to tell him what happened. Instead, you looked sorrowful, eyes almost glossy with what he realized were tears. “I really am sorry. I need time for something. I can’t talk about it now, I don’t want to pull you down with me. I will tell you afterwards, okay?” Your voice did nothing to soothe the pain of rejection he felt. Even though he so wished to believe you. You were hurt too and he didn’t understand why. Because you were the one pushing him away.

Spencer nodded his head dejectedly, a soft sniffle leaving him as he tried to not let the emotions overwhelm him. All the anxiety had left and was replaced by the cold, empty feeling of rejection. His nerve endings were no longer on edge, instead they were rather numb. “I’ll eh… I will go. Leave you to whatever you need to do.” His voice didn’t really sound like his own to him. Like he was running on autopilot and it was a preprogrammed recording. He let go of your hand, taking a deep breath, before he walked to the door. His hand was on the door knob when you called his name, when he looked over his shoulder at you you looked just as dejected. Your lips parted, like you wanted to say something, closing again, opening again. He could see you looking for the right words, but there were none. His lips formed an awkward, tight smile and he nodded. “Text me when you want to talk.” He said before leaving the room.

Closing the door with a hollow sound he took just a few steps before Penelope approached him. “What happened? Are you okay?” her voice concerned and laced with just a little pity. He didn’t need pity right now. He didn’t want to be around anyone. “Could you tell Hotch I need a personal day?” His question got a frantic nod in return. Clearly she understood it wasn’t something good that happened just now. “Yeah, yeah of course. Need anything else?” She answered, trying to be the good friend he always knew she was. He shook his head no, “I just need time.” He spoke softly before walking over to his desk. There was no comment from Derek, just a slight sympathetic look. He hated that.

Grabbing his bag and his jacket he quickly made himself ready to leave. JJ tried to stop him, files in hand ready to ask a question when he ducked his head and continued on. Not willing to talk right now he stepped on the elevator and pressed to go down. Walking out the door and straight to his car in the garage. When he finally reached his car and sat down it all hit him. His stomach felt heavy yet empty, but also like it was twisted in knots. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm down a little, tears threatening to spill behind his eyes. Blinking rapidly to push them back. There was no need for tears. You went on one date, he shouldn’t be this attached, yet he is. From the moment he had entered your lab he had been awestruck. Then, in the following week, he had started rambling and feared he had messed up by doing so. Yet you just smiled, asked more questions, let him ramble and rant about everything and anything. Content to hear him speak. He didn’t feel like an annoyance.

Spencer sighed, putting his key in the ignition and turning it, the song that came on was still on the same radio station that you had put it on, depeche mode sounding through the speakers. Quickly, his hand reached out, changing the station to anything else. Not wanting to be reminded of you immediately. He pulled out of the parking lot, driving home, a welcome distraction from his thoughts. When he got home though, he felt completely drained. Placing his bag near the front door, dropping the jacket over it. Toeing off his shoes before walking further into the apartment. He sat down on the couch. Once again alone with his thoughts. He leaned his head back, resting it against the top of the couch as he closed his eyes again. Rubbing his eyes with another sigh.

He wondered what it could be. What the reason for your coldness was. The fact that you seemed reluctant about it just made it weirder. He cursed himself for being able to read your expressions, your movements, to deduct anything from your behavior. He wished he didn’t know because it would have made it so much easier to be angry with you. To feel betrayed, led on, or even used. Instead he knew that you were just as torn up about what happened as he was. It made it feel even worse. He knew there was a reason, but the fact you were not willing to tell him hit the wrong nerve. Eyes opened on the ceiling, the faded green color perfect to get lost in. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. Head tilted back, looking at the ceiling as his mind was both working over time and thinking of nothing. A weird combination of feeling too full yet completely empty. Watching the shadows stretch further and further, slowly fading until there were no longer any shadows cast on his ceiling. It was just dark.

That’s what it was like. The night taking over the sunny feeling he had felt. An end coming to the light he had felt for the past two weeks. The nocturnal cold setting into his body. How he hated the realization that dawned on him that moment. He didn’t just like you. He had fallen all at once, during that first meeting, without realizing. Now it was too late to tell you. He doubted you even felt the same. So now he was left to suffer the heartbreak on his own. To deal with the conflicting emotions you left him with.

At least the night was quiet enough for him to think.

Tag list: @luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95 @jasf444 @queermaxwooo @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @sammy-4103 @thedevioussmirk @pleasantwitchgarden @khxna

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #alt reader #goth reader #she blinded me with science #tumblr writer #hurt/comfort #part 5 #multi part fic #spencer reid x goth reader #spencer reid x alt reader

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evangelinesbible · 2 years

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PLACEMENTS THAT MIGHT EXPERIENCE HEARTBREAK A LOT

Specifically talking about romantic relationships but this could technically count for friendships as well. Of course any one can get their heart broken but I’m specifically looking at placements that’ll experience it the most/ why they experience heartbreak a lot.

7H PLACEMENTS/STELLIUM

The house of relationships is also the house of open enemies and sadly most people with this placement will experience betrayal/ heart break form people they consider friends or lovers. They tend to attract people who use their selflessness against them.

7H SATURN

Their love lives sometimes feels stagnant. They sometimes seem to go no where when it comes to relationships. They may be mature in relationships but it takes a big push for them to want to settle down. They might feel lonely a lot and might have major trust insides because 7H still rules over open enemies.

12H VENUS

Beautiful beautiful sweethearts who deserve so much more. Tend to self sabotage because they are often afraid to take a risk in love. Having secret crushes but never feeling brave enough to ask them out. Not all are like this, but I know for a fact that a lot are. They fantasize about love and are true romantics but tend to believe that they’ll be nothing but fantasies.

VENUS - SATURN

The planet of love meeting with the planet of limitations and restriction. These people may be blessed with ageless beauty but are constantly fighting in their head. They don’t know if they want full independence or devoted love. The view of love is conflicting and they often self sabotage or restrain themselves from love.

5H CAPRICORN

Having such a strict/stubborn view of love or dating can stifle them. They can be too serious when it comes to flings or a have such high standards when it comes to love so they’re often disappointed.

5H SCORPIO

They’re obsessiveness over the people they care about can tend to fuck them over. Especially when other people have planets in their house. 5th house usually rules over short term relationships/flings but Scorpio rules over the 8H and can tend to be the opposite of that so these people (Scorpio 5H) can become obsessive and get really heart broken when it isn’t long lasting.

CHIRON 5H/7H

The wounded healer in these houses can mean that these people learn hurtful but valuable lessons in love/relationships. They strive for that perfect fairytale love but tend to choose the wrong people, most likely because of childhood traumas that relate to love and being desired. They need to learn through heartbreak what they truly want AND need from love

PISCES SUN

Pisces rules over Neptune and Neptune can rule over dreams/delusion. Pisces are known for wild imaginations and creativity. They tend to ignore reality, especially when it comes to their relationship. They might have created a version of their partner in their head that isn’t true to reality. And that fantasy is often shattered when their parents push them to that final edge to where they can’t deny reality anymore.

What do you think? Do you agree? Do you know anymore placements that might experience heartbreak a lot? 💋

-⚜️💫⚜️

#astrology #astro observations #astro placements #astro notes #astrology notes #pisces #aries #capricorn #taurus #cancer #love astrology #5th house Scorpio #5th house Capricorn #Pisces sun #12th house Venus #Venus Saturn aspects #chiron #7th house placements #7th house stellium

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suzukiblu · 7 months

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Day twenty-seven of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

They walk to their first planned destination, Kon being unfairly adorable and also an asshole at the same time, because it’s Kon so of course he can multitask that kind of shit. Tim gets teased about his taste in kids’ toys and his date budget and his theoretical Smash skills, which he’s clearly going to need to educate the bastard on the hard way. Alternately, Tim also gets Hawaiian gummy candy shared with him, never mind that Kon apparently both really likes it and hasn’t had it in months.

Tim continues to be in way too deep and finds it sweet of him, possibly because of the excited and pleased way Kon grins at him when he tells him likes the candy.

Tim is definitely in way too deep.

They get where they’re going, and Kon . . . pauses, and then tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Trust me,” Tim says with admittedly unwarranted confidence as he squeezes his hand, then leads him into the modern art museum looming in front of them. Kon isn’t the type to really be that into museums, he knows, but they did “meet” in one and also this specific exhibit seemed, well . . .

Promising, he guesses.

“Sure, pretty boy,” Kon says with a laugh, squeezing his hand in return. Tim is idly mystified as to why Kon keeps calling him that, but in no way intends to dissuade him from it. If Kon wants to call him completely illogical things, that’s up to him.

He takes Kon to the ticket counter and buys them both a ticket. The clerk asks for their ID and Kon hesitates, because he’s obviously never had or needed an actual ID in his life, but Tim’s already pulling out the fake ones he made for “Alvin Draper” and “Connell Hill”. They won’t stand up to Bat-level scrutiny, obviously–he didn’t have the time or see the point in going that far–but they’ll get them into an adults-only museum night. He’ll do up something more reliable to buy the cul-de-sac with. He has a few identities that could buy property established, but Bruce knows all of those identities, so he’d rather avoid using any of them. Easier to just build a new cover ID from scratch than hide an active one setting up a new residence that isn’t an obvious safehouse, he figures.

He pays the clerk, pockets his receipt, and they head down the hall together. The museum is one of the nicer ones in Gotham, and decorated a little bit more nicely than usual for the event, but not outright extravagantly. It’s due to be open a little later than usual too, though Tim doesn’t know how late Kon will want to stay. He can probably push back their dinner reservations if it comes to it, though he’s not expecting that to be necessary.

“It’s an 18+ thing?” Kon asks as soon as they’re out of the clerk’s earshot, raising an eyebrow curiously. “The frick kind of museum is this?”

“Not that kind,” Tim says, trying not to blush. “They just do adults-only events sometimes. It’s just so there won’t always be a bunch of bratty kids and annoying teenagers running around distracting the older museum-goers. And there's hors d'oeuvres and drinks.”

“Babe, I don’t know about you, but you are aware I am technically both a bratty kid and an annoying teenager, right?” Kon asks him with a smirk.

“That would be why I got you a fake ID too,” Tim says reasonably.

“So we just snuck into a museum with fake IDs,” Kon says with a laugh. “I mean, I’ve done weirder, probably, but what the fuck, Tim? Where’d you even get that?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Tim says only a little bit sheepishly, carefully avoiding the latter question. Also every other version of this kind of exhibit he found was way more kid-oriented and definitely not going to count as the kind of “nice” date to have convinced Kon to dress up for or actually look like Tim had put effort into any of the night.

“What, did the goat idol end up here?” Kon asks in amusement. “We checking up on the little guy?”

“No, he’s still living his best life in Metropolis under increased security, last I heard,” Tim says, though that’d be kind of funny, so depending on how long they’re seeing each other maybe he should keep that idea in mind.

“You actually checked?” Kon asks with a laugh.

. . . right, that’s not something a normal teenager would do, is it. Well–too late now, so Tim’s just gonna have to lean into it.

“I was just wondering what they were going to do with it, after a whole gallery wall got blown in and everything,” he says. “Apparently the answer was ‘close for a weekend and then back to business’. Don’t ask me where they found contractors that fast.”

“It’s Metropolis,” Kon says. “If you can’t find a contractor to fix superhero damage, you’re not trying.”

“It wasn’t actually superhero damage,” Tim points out. “You didn’t break anything.”

“A real fucking important vase, apparently,” Kon snorts, but he’s smiling a little as he shrugs. “Alright, fine, but ‘mediocre museum robber damage’ probably doesn’t sound as good on the insurance, now does it? And I look much prettier in the paper than a bunch of mug shots of idiots who didn’t even know how to work their cute lil’ magic goat buddy.”

“Definitely, yeah,” Tim agrees wryly, steering him down a side hall towards the sounds of other people. Frankly he’s counting them lucky the goat didn’t try to start a magical apocalypse or something, given how their lives usually go. And also it was Metropolis, which sucks enough as it is. So like, of course the apocalypse would come from Metropolis, given the option and opportunity to.

“I don't know much about art or whatever, you know,” Kon says a little bit awkwardly, peering down the hall towards the dimly-lit gallery ahead. “Like–that was not prioritized in the ‘how to be Superman’ educational package. Especially because it was written by committee by a bunch of people who I'm still pretty sure had never even met the guy. Like ever.”

“You don't have to know anything about art to like it,” Tim says reasonably, resisting a vague urge to frown over the way Kon phrased that. Note to self, maybe. Just–for later, obviously. “But this isn't really that kind of exhibit.”

“Isn't this an art museum?” Kon says with a puzzled frown. “What else is there?”

“It's a ‘multimedia experience primed to dazzle and delight all of the observer's senses’,” Tim recites wryly off the website copy he was reading earlier this week. “Also known as a sensory exhibit.”

“A–what?” Kon wrinkles his nose in confusion.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: obligatory sugar baby kon

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gabessquishytum · 7 months

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You know what concept doesn’t get explored enough in Dreamling fic? Dream teaching Hob how to read. Like, I’ve seen one or two off mentions of it in canon adjacent fic, but nothing that really gives focus to that idea, y’know? And while I think it would be fun in canon, I’m gonna go au real quick.

So Hob as one of those kids unfortunately left behind. Probably a combination of living in poverty and his undiagnosed adhd. And he’s definitely way too embarrassed by this to actually ask anyone to teach him. So now he’s an adult who doesn’t know much more than his own name and his numbers. And while that probably wouldn’t be enough for most people to get by, what Hob DOES have are people skills. His ability to charm people and talk around them let’s him get through life well enough.

Then there’s Dream, mister wet cat himself. If he’s not an Author™️ then he’s definitely a voracious reader. But he has a personality of a damp paper bag. Like, even he has to admit his lack of social skills is actively hindering his life and relationships at this point. Probably add some autism for ✨flavor✨

But Dream does have moments where he’s too observant for his own good. Which is how he clocks that Hob avoids reading like the plague. (I’m envisioning Hob as a bartender at the pub Dream goes to to try and learn human behavior. But idk if he could avoid reading with that job.)

So Dream corners Hob and proposes a trade off: Dream will teach him how to read and Hob will teach him some social skills. Once Hob realizes he’s not being threatened (seriously, Dream really sucks at this talking to people thing) he hesitantly agrees. At least it’s less embarrassing if Dream also needs to be taught something? And it would be rather helpful…

Obviously during the course of their lessons they fall in love 🥰

This means so much to me!!!! I love it. The idea of Hob hiding the fact that he can't read is so heartbreaking but actually so real and its way more common than people imagine.

I also love the idea of Hob + Dream = One Normal Functioning Adult. That's my favourite thing, when they're each other's missing puzzle piece <3

I figure that Hob might have picked up a few words from around the environment of the bar. Like, each tap has a label on and he knows exactly which is which and he can technically read "Guiness" and "Wherry" and a few others, but they're not the most useful words. Anyways, Dream gets the idea that he'll keep using things around the pub to teach Hob to read: menus, newspapers, posters for old gigs, crisp packets. It's a good way for Hob to build confidence before Dream presents him with an actual book.

And similarly Hob uses the bar as a place to teach Dream about social skills. He coaches him through identifying body language and expressions, quizzing Dream on how he thought each customer might be feeling. Then he encourages three way conversations between him, Dream and regular customers. He gives Dream topics to focus on and gives him safe ways to get out of an interaction that he's not vibing with.

By the time Hob stumbles his way through his first novel, Dream is able to talk to a stranger about the weather without any issues. And they're both mutually crushing on each other so hard!! It only seems fitting that the pub which has been such a cornerstone for their friendship and some pretty awesome personal milestones, is also the place where they have their first date.

Hob reads love sonnets to Dream in a hushed undertone. And it's like the whole building sighs happily at the sights of them together <3

#acedragontype #the sandman #dreamling

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lottesreads · 1 month

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Why Me? - Part 10

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, ANGST, violence, nightmares, mentions of PTSD, mentions of child abuse, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, smutty (smut-ish?) (horny thoughts, idk), mentions of drinking, Rooster being ok for once. (Let me know if I missed any, there's just a lot going on in this one)

Word Count: 13.5k (IM SO SORRY)

Summary: You're facing the consequences after Phoenix's party, knowing what you want isn't fair to you or Bob. After a bit of a setback, you go back to work more than ready to prove to yourself you are part of the squad for a reason. And it doesn't take long for you and Bob to realize avoiding each other isn't the right way to go about things.

A/N: An extra long part, just for you lovely bunch. I just want to personally thank each and everyone of you for sticking around! I am so sorry this took literally two months to get out, but ya girl was going through it man. I wrote and re-wrote this part so many times and I hope you all like it. Again, I love to hear what y'all think!

I should also mention I was listening to TTPD on repeat while writing, so do with that what you will.

Masterlist

Despite the cool temperature seeping through the night air, your skin is unbelievably hot. From your head down to your toes you are burning up. Right as you think you have it under control and can go back inside to the party you’re reminded about what happened moments ago and the cycle starts from the beginning. Your tongue runs over your lips as you attempt to get your breathing under control again, but the taste of Bob lingers. What did you just do?

Bob is doing all he can right now. Which is simply sitting behind the steering wheel of his truck, staring at the dashboard with his heart in his throat. He just kissed you. Well technically, you kissed him first, but the second one… He started that one. Right after he told you what he promised himself he never would.

His forehead falls to the stitching of the leather wheel as he lets out a breath. It was like you appeared from his thoughts when you followed him out the back door. It took everything in him not to look at you because he knew if he did, he would have ended up telling you exactly what he did. And then you apologized. On behalf of some woman he wasn’t interested in, who was kinda mean to him. The embarrassment of his supposed “date” for the night making out with Rooster was shortly overthrown by your hands on his face, tugging him into what he would call the best part of his night, no- year- lifetime? Ugh. He takes his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You’ve got him all messed up. Either way, it wasn’t a dream this time, and you told him you wanted to kiss him. You’re the one that initiated it! That must mean something, right?

He keeps running over what happened, trying to figure out where to pick up from where you two were interrupted. Ok, first he confesses his feelings, two, you kiss him. YOU kissed HIM. And you told him you wanted to, which is why three: he kissed you. Oh god, he kissed you, held you, and everything about it was… perfect. Your lips were so soft against his, you smelled like flowers and tasted like his favorite soda. But then, before you could do or say anything else, the back door was opening, and now he finds himself behind his steering wheel. Oh god, did he really just leave you there?

Placing his glasses back on his face, Bob stares out the window of his truck at Phoenix’s house. You were probably still out in the backyard, or maybe you went back inside after he abandoned you. Either way, there’s no way he can walk back inside and act like everything is normal. Not now, maybe not ever. His hand falls to his key in the ignition, and as slow as he can, he turns it, roaring the truck to life. Before he gets too far down the street, Bob takes one last look in his rearview mirror, the glow from the house getting dimmer the farther he drives away.

-----------------------

It’s not long after you’re able to collect yourself to your utmost ability that you quietly creep back into the kitchen. The party is still in full swing in the living room, and Phoenix catches your eye as you head toward the front door without anyone else noticing. She slips away from Rachel for a quick second, heading in your direction.

“Are you heading out?”

“Yeah”, you reply apologetically. “Thanks for having me over.” Her eyes roam over your face, as yours dart toward your feet, hoping she won’t notice something’s off.

“Ok…”, she lets you go, “Thanks for coming over, it means a lot to us.” Her face gives you a shy smile, something you don’t see her sport a lot. It makes you forget about your own dealings for a moment and remember why you came over in the first place.

“I was happy to. Rachel’s a keeper.”

“Oh don’t start getting all sappy with me”, she teases as she gently hits your shoulder. You’re halfway across the lawn when she calls out to you one last time. “And Mantis?”

“Yeah?”, you ask, turning toward her voice.

“If you see Bob will you just tell him I need to talk to him?” Your mouth goes dry, and you force a small smile to your face.

“Uh-huh”, it comes out a little more squeaky than you hoped, but she understands you nonetheless. She closes the door and you turn back to your car, face heating up once again.

Somehow you managed to drive home, AC on blast, trying to cool yourself down. Flashes of Bob’s rough hands being so gentle with you alight your senses, giving you butterflies. You can practically feel his lips on yours, the way he gripped your waist, ran his hand up your back, has you closing your eyes, somehow hoping you’d be able to feel it all again. You can’t help it as you walk to the front door, but the feeling of his lips chasing your own has your mouth shifting into the smallest smile. Everything is right with the world as you reminisce, but you know from experience that good things never last.

-----------------------

Your mind is hazy as Bob’s lips move in sync with your own. It’s comfortably warm as his hands trail down your sides, your own moving up into his hair. He stops, just for a second, and you’re able to look around at your surroundings. It’s your room, but it’s not yours. It’s the room in your mom’s house back in Ohio. It looks the same way it did the day you started packing. Like it’s been perfectly preserved in time. Only, Bob is here, and there’s a mysterious haze surrounding the two of you. That panicky feeling starts to rise as you notice each and every detail your mind had stored away long ago, you didn’t even remember how many picture frames you had on your dresser until this very moment. All four of them sit in their exact spots, each depicting a moment with your dad, Carole or Bradley.

Bob’s mouth makes its way back to your own, and you forget about where you are, allowing yourself to get lost in this dream. Each moment spent not focusing on Bob paints a clearer vision of the place you spent a majority of your life wishing you could escape. But right now, all you want to do is stay. Your feet lead the way to your twin bed, pushing Bob onto the pink covers as you straddle his lap. You so desperately need to know how it feels to have him in this position, but your mind, only knowing what it feels like to kiss him won’t allow you to fulfill your fantasy. You push harder, needing to feel him all over. He starts dragging his lips down your neck as you grip the back of his neck, trying as hard as you can to hold on to him in the only place you know you can. Where there isn’t an outside world telling you it’s against some rule to feel the way you do.

A car door slams shut, disrupting your flow. Your blood runs cold as you freeze in his hold. Your heart thrums in your chest as you sit quietly in his lap, waiting for the following sound of the front door. He continues to kiss up your neck, distracting you as you sit and wait. You flinch as the front door is forcefully closed. You’re vaguely aware of the ghosting of Bob’s hands, his lips, but you wince with each clack of a heel up the wood paneling of the stairs.

You know it’s not real. You know it deep down. But the sound is uncanny as the click of heels gets closer to your room, and now you can barely feel Bob anymore. As if this dream version of him can sense what you’re thinking, he turns your head as you collide your lips together. You can’t hear anything, feel anything other than Bob, and the recent memory of what it felt like to kiss him. The rest of the room is slowly wiped away as you and Bob part, choosing to just hold him instead. You can almost make out the beating of his own heart, as if he were real. The dresser, like a fog, slowly drifts away, the frames on it, the few posters on your wall, your desk. It’s as if you were never teleported back here in the first place.

Moving your head, you take a glance at Bob. You’re still perched in his lap as he gives you a gentle smile. A peaceness falls over you and this hazy version of him. You move to touch the freckle at the base of his hairline, only to feel nothing. That’s something you wish you could have done before now, so you could do it a million more times. You see his head move to kiss your wrist, but feel a breeze where his lips meet your skin. Leaning down, you softly connect your lips with his, at least you know what that feels like. But that only means you will torture yourself with the memory. It does its job now to soothe you into a calm state. For a few brief moments.

The doorknob twists as a large wind sweeps through the room, knocking the door into the wall. Your heart leaps out of your chest as your mother stands in the doorway, smoke practically fuming from her ears.

“YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!”, she screams. Your hands attempt to grasp on to Bob for dear life, but as you look down you’re only holding air. Bob is nowhere to be found. You squeeze your eyes as hard as you can, bringing your hands up to your face in an attempt to wake yourself. Rubbing as hard as you can so hopefully once you open them she’ll be gone. The all too familiar feeling of sharp nails and the pressure of your mother’s hands wrap around your wrists, forcing you to look into her borderline black eyes. You’re paralyzed in fear, shaking in her grasp as she squeezes tighter and tighter.

“DO YOU EVEN HEAR ME?”, she screams, tacking your name on at the end. First and middle, cursing a pang through your nervous system. A response you thought you had rid yourself of until this very moment. A hand moves to squeeze your cheeks together, stopping you if you even had the guts to say anything. It hurts. It hurts like it did when you were seven, when you were seventeen, and that’s what scares you the most. If this is still a dream, how can it hurt so much?

“YOU NEVER THINK!”, she screams in your face as you try to lean away. Her breath is the same, spearmint gum with an undertone of whatever wine she got into this time. You feel so weak in her hold as she pulls you closer. In a split second the pain from her grip is gone until her palm cracks against your cheek. Hard enough to have you falling off your bed. The palms of your hands tingle as you fall, and it feels like an eternity until your back hits the hardwood flooring.

You awake with a gasp, then a groan as you blink your eyes open. There’s the soft glow from the morning sun streaming through the blinds of your window. Your heart feels as if it’s about to beat out of your chest, it’s hitting your ribcage so hard. The glow falls on your dresser, the one from IKEA your dad insisted on getting you when he started renting the house. The house. The home your dad made in North Island. You look for the picture frames on top, there’s the ones of you and your dad, and Carole, but none of Bradley. You’re home, you’re safe.

Your head falls to the cool wood of your bedroom floor, the sweat oozing from your pores causing your skin to stick to the material. Your back and shoulder are a little sore, probably from falling off your bed, but your wrists and face feel fine. Even so, you lift a shaky hand, eyeing any possible bruising. Nothing. Just the faint green from the fading bruise on your knuckles. You kick the blanket twisted around your legs, rubbing your eyes to avoid tripping to the bathroom. There you turn the faucet on, running your hands under the cold water then splashing some on your face. An attempt to ground you in reality as you stare back in the mirror. Only, you can’t see yourself. You can only see every defining feature that reminds you and everyone else of the monster from your nightmare.

The blood rushes to your ears as your fear makes way for anger. It eats you up, taking over your senses the longer you stare. The face of a person who doesn’t care if you live or die stares back. Throwing down the towel you were using to dry your hands, and clad in your pajamas, you race down the stairs. You barely register your dad asking what that noise was, but you don’t stop, set on making it to the front door. You didn’t even bother putting on shoes, not like it matters, as you start walking. Where to, you don’t know. You just need to feel something real. Know there’s life outside of your head. Away from her.

“Where are you going?”, your dad asks from the front door, you’re a house down when from the lawn he yells your name. And even though it’s coming from your dad, you still flinch, making you all the more mad. He’s taken aback as you turn on your heel.

“I’m going for a fucking walk! Is that ok with you?”, you yell back. He stands there nothing short of aghast as you clench your fists at your side.

“Where the hell did that come from? Are you ok?”, he asks as he holds his hands up in surrender, trying not to set you off anymore than you already are.

“I’m fine”, you spit. The recoil on his face coupled with the worried look has you feeling the tiniest bit remorseful. “I’m sorry, I just- I need to be alone right now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I just wanna know when you’re planning on being back.”

“I don’t know, just give me a minute.”

“You’re just gonna walk around barefoot then?”

“I don’t fucking know”, you huff. “I’ll be back. You don’t need to worry about me.” Without sparing him another glance you start walking. Your dad sighs and curses under his breath as he watches you storm off in one of his old t-shirts and your plaid pajama shorts.

You do as you say. Walk. That is until a flash from your dream causes a tremor in your hands you’re doing your very best to ignore. The image of her standing in front of you, in your mirror has you shaking in anger, and that’s when you start running. Where to, you don’t know. You just need to get away for one goddamn second. The slam of your bare feet against the cement hurts in the best way, letting you know this is real. It’s not some nightmare you can’t escape from.

It’s not fair. The way she haunts you, ruins every good thing you get your hands on. You curse the fact that ever since you were little people were always telling you how much you looked like your mother. She lingers in the mirror every time you try to look at yourself. It makes you wonder if she sees you whenever she catches sight of herself. Then again, you always thought one of the reasons she despised you so much was because you reminded her of your father. A constant reminder of her biggest mistake in life.

The only real way you know time has passed is the way the sun rises slightly higher in the sky. You haven’t stopped running since you started, and it isn’t until the feel of sand beneath your bare feet slows you down. Your calves are burning as you trudge your way across the warm grains. It gets colder as you get closer to the water, and once the salty waves lap at your feet you stop.

Quickly realizing how out of breath you are, you back up and fall into the warmer sand. Your hyperventilating moves into gasping breaths as your chest heaves. You glance up to the light blue sky, then down to the deep blue of the Pacific. You’re reminded of Bob’s gentle eyes, and his kind smile. You allow yourself to get angry again. Just for a little bit. He left you last night. After saying those wonderful things about you, and then granting you a moment you won’t be able to forget in this lifetime. And again, in your dream. He left. Just like everyone does. Not that he had a choice. You can’t be selfish and expect him to stay when you know it’s a risk for the both of you. You hang your head, placing it in between your knees as you hug them closer to yourself. It’s just not fair.

You could ask yourself why. Why after almost 11 years of not seeing your mother, why she still haunts your nightmares. But you know. You were doing something you shouldn’t have. Every time you misstepped, misspoke, she was there to punish you. And even now that she’s not a part of your life, she will always exist in that little part of your brain that punishes yourself. Maybe the two of you aren’t as different as you like to think.

-----------------------

After a restless night, much to the chagrin of Sylvia, who ultimately decided to sleep on the floor rather than next to the twisting and turning of her dad, Bob checks his phone. There’s a couple texts from Phoenix asking him to call her, one from Fanboy confirming their movie night later in the week, but nothing from you. To be fair, he was the one who ran away in the first place, but every time he picked up his phone to draft a text to you, it seemed all wrong. What could he say through a text that could convey how he felt, or how much he wanted to talk to you again? Tossing his phone to the pillow next to his own, he huffs out a breath, running a hand over his face. Everything is just so confusing.

As he stares at the ceiling, his phone starts to buzz. He squints at the screen after reading the name, surely it can’t be. Grabbing his glasses and placing them on his face he double checks the caller I.D. So he had it right the first time, huh. Maverick’s contact name comes up as it continues to buzz, and Bob answers it with a shaky hand. There’s no way this was on purpose. The only reason he even had his number was so Maverick could coordinate everything for the initial beach day. And then he told everyone to keep his number for emergencies.

“Hello?”, Bob asks as he breaches the silence of his room.

“Bob, hey. It’s Maverick.” Ok, so he does know he called Bob.

“Hey, Mav. What’s up?”

“Listen, I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s Mantis.” Bob swallows, trying to clear the frog in his throat at the mention of you.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. She ran out in a hurry this morning and she hasn’t been back since. I normally wouldn’t worry, but she left her phone and it’s already been a while. Listen- have you seen her at all?” Bob’s thoughts are running through his mind, wondering if you’re hurt somewhere.

“No sir”, not since you had your hands all over him last night. His face heats up at the thought, but immediately he refocuses his attention on worry, clearing his throat. “Not since last night. Have you checked with Phoenix?”

“Yeah, she hasn’t seen or heard from her either. I just thought that since the two of you are friends she might have said something. Did she seem ok last night? Or did anything happen?” Bob’s heart sinks as the thought that he might be the reason you’re gone moves to the forefront of his mind.

“Um- yeah she seemed fine last night.” Bob’s mind is reeling, you did seem ok. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, actually. But then again, maybe it’s not about him. “I can go out looking for her”, he rushes out.

“No, that’s ok. I think Phoenix is already doing that. Stay put, maybe she’ll show up at someone’s house”, he sighs. Bob can tell he sounds stressed. He can almost picture him standing on the front porch of your house, waiting for you to come back.

“Ok. Will you just uh- have someone let me know when you find her?”

“I will. Thanks Bob.”

“No problem, sir.”

-----------------------

The beach has gotten a little louder, a little hotter since you arrived. But all you’ve been doing is staring out at the waves. The cool breeze shifts loose hair around your face, the unruly locks that haven’t been taken care of after you woke up this morning. The weight of a hand on your shoulder takes you out of your trance as you quickly try to move out of the grasp.

“Get the fuck away from me!”, you yell. The hand retreats almost as fast as it landed, and squinting, you look up to identify the face.

“Whoa, easy there Hulk. It’s just me”, Natasha lets out as you readjust yourself in the sand to your previous position. Wordlessly she sits down next to you, making sure to keep a safe distance.

“Sorry”, you whisper so quietly you’re not even sure she heard it.

“It’s ok”, she responds softly. She lets the two of you sit in the silence, anticipating what you’re going to do next.

“How long have you been out here?” You shrug in a silent response. “What’s going on?”

Your mouth twitches as you stare at your feet. Shifting the sand in between your toes. “Nothing”, you lie. “I’m fine.” You hear her take a deep breath before she speaks again.

“Your dad called me, asked if I’d seen you at all.” Internally you scoff. You told him you’d be back, it’s like he won’t let you do anything now- “That was two hours ago”, she finishes her thought. Oh.

“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” You shake your head slightly. It had only felt like you’d been here for 10 minutes. How have you been here for longer than an hour? You don’t dare to look over, you know that the brown eyed gaze of your best friend is already looking you over in worry.

“It’s ok. Do you wanna head inside?” You squint at her words, confusion clouding your mind.

“Inside?”

“Yeah, just inside the-”, she stops mid sentence, redirecting her questioning, “Mantis, do you know where you are?” “I’m at the beach”, you respond flatly.

“Ok. Do you know which beach?” Swallowing, you look around for the first time since you arrived. There’s a lifeguard station with the number 6 on it just down to your right, and you can still hear the faint hum of cars from the road behind you. “That’s ok”, she lightly responds, deciding you do not actually know where you are. “Let’s go inside.”

She allows you to stand on your own, just knowing that you’d follow her. When you turn around, she directs the two of you to your right, and there it is. The Hard Deck. Somehow you had made it all the way from your home, down to the Hard Deck, without stopping. You fold your arms, keeping them close to you. Penny is already waiting at the back door, granting you a small smile as you walk up the couple steps to the bar. Phoenix stops you before you go in, placing a pair of sandals in front of you to step into. Huh, you didn’t even notice she was carrying those. It’s only after you step inside Penny’s sanctuary that you realize how bad your feet and legs hurt.

They sit you down at a table and slide you a glass of water. Neither moves to touch you, even as Penny sits down with you while Phoenix steps aside to call someone, presumably your father. You’re quiet as you stare at the grain of wood in the tabletop.

“Are you hungry, hun?”, she asks as you continue to stare at the table.“I can fix you something in the kitchen”, she offers as you glance up at her, giving a small shake of your head.

She sighs before starting again, “I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear right now, but when my dad started having flashbacks and nightmares, it really helped him to talk to someone. Got him an actual diagnosis which helped with treating it.” You furrow your brows as you cock your head slightly.

“Diagnosis for what?”

“PTSD”, she grimaces as she tries to cover it with a half smile. She probably thinks this is some work-related thing

“Oh- this isn’t, it’s not Navy-related”, you’re a little slow to correct. She sighs again and reaches her hand out for you before thinking better of it and placing it in her lap.

“Just because it doesn’t come from being in the Navy doesn’t mean it’s not real.” You clench your jaw and look away right as Phoenix finishes her phone call.

-----------------------

Nat drives you home in silence as you mull over Penny’s words. Was it really that obvious you had a nightmare? It just hadn’t happened in so long. You thought it wouldn’t come back. That she wouldn’t come back. She promised she wouldn’t be a part of your life, you guess that’s just her lingering charm that’s sticking around.

“What started it this time?”, she asks. You turn from staring out the passenger window and glance at her. The dream comes back to you in flashes, Bob’s hands on you, your lips over his, and then… You flinch slightly at the glimpse of her face in your head, the feeling of her grip.

“I don’t want to talk about it”, you respond lowly.

“OK”, she replies.

“How did you know where I was?”, you question as she spares you a look before turning back to the road.

“I was already out looking for you when your dad called and said Penny thought she saw you sitting on the beach. She wasn’t sure what you would do if she approached you, and I had to convince Mav not to book it down there himself.” You’re eternally grateful for Phoenix for knowing exactly what you needed in that moment.

“He’s just overreacting”, you try to shrug it off. She parks in front of your house, and you cringe at the blue Bronco in the driveway. So he really just called everyone, huh?

“Is he, Mantis?” She looks over to you, and you look down to your fingers for solace. Deciding you’re not up for a conversation you move on.

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“I always will, you know that.” And you really do. Phoenix has been there more often than not to pick you up when you fall. She was the one person you could count on back at the Academy, and she’s been there for you ever since. Especially when you weren’t even sure you could trust your dad to let you stay in school. Even when she graduated two years before you and went on to flight school, she never kept out of touch.

She follows you up the steps to your door, and before you’re able to step one foot into your house, your dad is pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You’re a little uncomfortable, and you’re sure anyone can read it on your face.

“Dad”, you wheeze, “Dad I’m fine.” He moves as you push him away, only to hold onto your upper arms.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”, he raises his voice, causing you to flinch. “Do you know how worried I was?” You didn’t actually see him before now, but Rooster is grabbing his arm, urging him to let you go.

“I’m sorry. I just- I needed to get out for a second.”

“A second? A second- You were gone for hours. You didn’t have your phone with you, didn’t have any shoes, you’re still in your pajamas for Christ’s sake!” With every word he throws at you, your brow furrows and your lip trembles a little more.

“Mav”, Rooster starts as he grabs your dad’s attention, “Ease up, man. You’re scaring her.” And even though he might be a little bit right, just the sound of his voice irritates you to no end. Him and his stupid Hawaiian shirt. A switch is flipped and you’re back to being angry again.

“No one fucking asked you Rooster. Why the hell are you even here?” He blinks at your sudden change, and shakes his head, trying to find an answer.

“Hey!”, your dad exclaims as he turns back to you with wide eyes. “He came over here because I was worried. I didn’t know if you went to someone else’s house, or were kidnapped, or god forbid, were hit by a car or worse!”

“Well obviously I’m fine.”

“I know that now. But it still doesn’t explain what you were doing for so long, or how you even ended up at the Hard Deck.”

“I told you I was going for a walk. And I don’t really think I need to explain myself to you.” You brush past the two of them without sparing a second glance, but you can hear your dad following after you.

“We are not done here!”, he yells up the stairs as you close the door to your room.

-----------------------

Bob is aimlessly walking around his kitchen as Sylvia stares on in confusion. They just got back from a run, and instead of resting like they usually do, he’s still pacing. He knows your dad told him to stay put, but if there was a chance that maybe he could find you while with Sylvia, he was gonna take it. He’s heard nothing from anyone since he first picked up the phone this morning, and that was hours ago. He’s starting to get really worried about you.

Deciding that walking around isn’t going to help anything, he decides to take a shower. He’s undressed, about to hop in when his phone starts ringing. He doesn’t even check who it is before he answers.

“Hello?”

“So you won’t answer my texts, but you’ll pick up a call? Good to know Floyd”, Phoenix’s voice echoes in his ear. He forgot all about them in the chaos of this morning.

“Is she ok?”, he immediately asks, ignoring her question. She sighs from the other end of the phone.

“She’s home and… she’s safe”, she utters as Bob takes a breath of relief.

“Is she ok though?”, he urges. She’s silent for a moment as he waits for an answer. “Phoenix?”

“It’s not that simple. She’s been through a lot.”

“She told me… about her mom.”

“She told you?”, Bob can tell by the shock in her voice you probably haven’t had the same kind of conversation with her. “She’s never actually said anything to me. Just that her mom wasn’t very nice. I kinda figured it out after we started rooming together and she’d wake up crying, just drenched in sweat. She wouldn’t let anyone touch her and- God I shouldn’t even be telling you this.” Bob hangs his head and nods as if she can see him. As much as he wants to know, he also knows that if you haven’t shared it with him yet it was probably for a reason.

“You’re probably right. Where- where did you find her though?”

“She made it all the way to the Hard Deck. Craziest thing is that she didn’t even know where she was.” Bob huffs out a breath and rubs his forehead. You seemed completely fine last night. And for some reason, he feels like he’s to blame. He didn’t stick around after to see if you were ok, or if you regretted any of it. God, he’s such a dick.

“Geez”, he breathes out.

“Yeah. Listen, just ignore my texts. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Bob’s grateful she’s thinking the same as him. What happened with Emily last night really doesn’t take precedent right now. He’s just so glad you’re home.

“Ok, see ya tomorrow.” And with that he ends the phone call. His shoulders slump as he turns the handle on the shower, the water runs as his mind is clouded with thoughts of you. Worried ones mostly.

-----------------------

The water is as hot as it can go as you wash the morning from you. Dirt from your feet makes the water murky as it swirls down the drain, the sweat from your nightmare and all the running is washed away as you clean yourself.

Stepping out, you quickly change into a clean set of clothes. Something comfortable, because you have a feeling you’re not going anywhere else today. Most likely back to bed to overthink your entire existence again. Taking your hair out of the towel, you move to wipe the fog off of the mirror, but you pause at the first swipe. Dark circles hang underneath your eyes, frame the face you wish didn’t belong to you

You’re tired. Your body, your mind, are all tired. You’re tired of trying to hold in your tears, of trying to be angry in order to cover up the fact that you are actually very scared of becoming the woman that you see in the mirror. Someone with the capability to ruin other people's lives. Falling to the floor with a thud, you allow yourself to cry. You barely hear the knock coming from your bathroom door, but you wipe your nose on your sleeve, and reach up to unlock the door.

Your dad is immediately on his knees in front of you as you reach out to him. His arms wrap around you securely as you sob harder into his shoulder.

“It’s ok sweetheart. I’m here”, he reassures you. “You’re ok. Just let it out.” You start to cry even harder at his words. You were so mean to him earlier, and why? Because you were mad at your mom? At yourself?

“I’m sorry”, you manage to speak through broken cries.

“Shh, hey. It’s ok. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I was just- so worried about you.” He rubs at the back of your head as you cry harder. He holds onto you a little tighter and you let him. It’s not suffocating or claustrophobic, it’s comforting. He’s somehow able to convey in his embrace that he’s not done fighting for you, that he’s sorry he ever let you down in the first place. “I got you”, he whispers as he kisses the top of your head.

-----------------------

You aren’t at work the next day. He should have expected it. After everything that happened he still hasn’t texted you. He wanted to reach out, but thought better of it. Knowing you, you might feel more embarrassed than anything if he brought attention to the fact that your dad called him. Even so, it feels… off. For the first time in weeks he doesn’t save a seat for you at lunch. And then out of the blue, as Phoenix sits down across from him, Rooster sets his lunch bag next to hers. He glances up with wide eyes as Rooster gives him a cordial smile

It’s quiet for a moment as the three of them dig into their food. As Bob reaches for a baby carrot, the table shakes. He moves to look up at Phoenix who is trying and failing to discreetly glare at Rooster. He can only assume the movement was her kicking him under the table. Rooster clears his throat, garnering Bob’s attention. He rubs his mouth before looking back at him.

“Listen, Bob, I’m really sorry about Saturday.” Oh this is where this is going.

“Oh, there’s no need to-”

“Yes”, Phoenix cuts in, “there is. Please continue, Rooster.” Rooster winces at her words, and ultimately turns back to Bob.

“Right. Um, turns out Emily thought she was being set up with me the entire time. Not you, which explains why- uh everything happened the way it did”, he chuckles awkwardly. “Anyway, so I’m sorry about that kind of wrecking your night.” Even though his glasses are sitting perfectly on his face, Bob pushes the bridge of his wire frames even further onto his nose as an excuse to distract himself from the awkwardness of this conversation.

“Listen, it’s fine. Really.”

“Bob”, Phoenix whines, “No it’s not. I’m sorry, too. Apparently I never even told her your name. Just that you were one of my friends, so she naturally assumed it was Rooster.” Emily was honestly the last thing on his mind since that night. It all seems so trivial since yesterday. He just wants to see you. Confirm with his own eyes that you’re alright. Right now it kind of feels like you fell off the face of the earth, even if he did see you two days ago. It was two days too long.

“Phoenix”, Bob levels, “It’s ok. I wasn’t putting too much pressure on anything working out anyway.” He starts to play with his food, kind of the same way you do whenever you’re uncomfortable. Just moving stuff around, never actually picking anything up to eat. He can’t help but have every thought wander back to you somehow. He wonders if you’ve maybe done the same thing about him, but he quickly rids himself of the thought. Why would you do that? Just because he overthinks and rethinks everything doesn’t mean you do, too.

Your hands are trembling as you open the car door and head into base. Not in a bad way. Not at all. You need to get in a jet. Need to feel some sort of control over anything in your life. In the air, that’s where you feel free. You have to be laser focused on what you are doing at all times, there is no voice in your head telling you to be better, or that you’re not good enough. If she had it her way you wouldn’t be there at all. The world of aviation is one where your mother’s voice is silent. She simply doesn’t exist. You’d like to keep it that way.

So yes, your hands are trembling. And you welcome it. It’s the incessant thumping of your heart against your rib cage as you get closer to the classroom that is bothering you. Bob. You haven’t seen or heard from him since Saturday. Since you kissed him. But this is a professional setting, one where under its rule you are not allowed to feel the way you do for him. Or him you, apparently. So, you’ll pretend for both your sakes that nothing happened. It’s the way it has to be. That way you can’t ruin his life. Can’t- won’t be like the one person you swear you would never end up like.

And then, right as you walk in the door, Bob’s eyes are on you. His cheeks pinken just the tiniest bit at the sight of you. But more than that, there’s a look of relief on his face. Before you can give him any kind of indication you notice him, his attention is being directed away by Fanboy. Deciding it’s best to let it slide, you walk past Nat on his other side, giving her a slight smile as she winks at you. And even though before the day even started you had decided to avoid looking at Bob, it is so damn hard as his profile sits right in front of you. Rooster’s still mandated to sit next to you, so his incessant breathing helps to distract you.

The rest of the day until lunch is entirely boring until you’re given your chance to get up in your jet. There’s the regular spiel from Maverick about which maneuvers you’re going to practice, and then there’s another storm warning. A so-called hurricane is supposed to sweep southern California over the weekend, so they’re trying to give everyone as much air-time as they can before it starts. Fine by you. You don’t even care that you’re paired with Hangman, that’s how badly you need to get back up there.

Settling into your seat, you take a deep breath in, and out. This is what you were made to do. There’s no other feeling quite like it in the world, and your hands tingle as you grab the yoke, just waiting for the all-go. The roar of the engine is so loud you can hardly hear your own thoughts. Just the way you like it. You twitch in anticipation before Hondo gives you the hand signal, waving you for take-off.

Before you know it, you’re back on the ground, and the next group is getting ready to go up. You stay close to your jet while Phoenix and Bob pass to get to theirs. You don’t notice his glance your way, but as you take a quick look he’s already climbing the ladder into his seat.

-----------------------

Bob isn’t exactly sure where the two of you stand at this moment. He knows that right now at work is not the best place to discuss any of it, but he also knows that he can’t go on pretending forever that Saturday night didn’t happen. And then there’s the fact that something happened on Sunday to set you off, so he decides he’ll just wait for you to approach him. He doesn’t want to add any more stress to your life, just glad you seem to be in better spirits. He still saves you a seat at lunch, but 10 minutes pass before he decides you’re not coming. Phoenix finally fills an empty seat across from him, and before he can ask where you are Fanboy takes the seat he is no longer saving for you.

“Ok”, Fanboy starts, “I’ve got all three Indiana Jones on blu-ray that I can bring over since those are the only ones that matter, you still ok to do it at your place?” Bob nods at the plans mindlessly, eyes staring down at his untouched plate of food.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“You sure? Cause last time I was over your dog avoided me the whole time. She fucking hates, me dude.” Bob winces and holds back a small laugh.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s just… shy.” He explains.

“It’s true”, Phoenix cuts in, “Although, the last time I saw her she finally let me pet her. It was amazing.” Bob smiles at her as he finally digs into his lunch. Sylvia had already taken a quicker liking to you than anyone else Bob has introduced her to. It’s kind of a shame she won’t be seeing you as often as he’d like anymore. And just as the thought of you pops into his head, he spots you walking over to another table. Damn it.

-----------------------

As much as you like talking to your dad, you absolutely despise having to go over what you missed yesterday. Which is why your lunch was cut approximately 15 minutes short today. He was nice enough to make lunches for the both of you today, so with your brown paper bag in hand, you make your way over to the mess-hall. You stop right after entering, trying to find an empty seat among the crowd. You spot Bob and your heart skips a beat. Fanboy is in your seat, and even though there’s an empty spot next to Phoenix, Payback sits down before you can move. It’s probably for the best. As much as it hurts, you need to stay as far away from Bob as possible. It’s the only way you know you can’t ruin his career. Or yours for that matter.

Taking in a deep breath, your eyes move to the corner of the room where the only empty seat remains. Great. Begrudgingly, you make your way over to the table and place your lunch before you as you sit. Rooster’s eyes widen as he slowly chews his bite of food at your action. He’s still staring at you as you open your bag. Rolling your eyes you finally decide to speak, “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Am I not supposed to be?”, he asks as he swallows his food. Exasperation crosses your face as you take a bite of your pb & j. You don’t even pay attention to him as you rip into your food, but you can still feel him watching you. “What?”, you ask with a mouth full of peanut butter.

“Nothing”, he shrugs as you raise your brow at him. He clears his throat before gingerly asking, “How are you feeling?” You squint your eyes and dust any crumbs from your hands before folding your arms across your chest.

“What is this? What are you doing?” He shrugs again.

“What? I can’t ask you how you are?”

“Why are you doing it though?”, you counter. He looks away as he mutters an explanation.

“I just- I want to see how you’re doing.”

“Really? Or do you just want to know if I’m going to blow up on you again? How about this: ask me how I’m feeling again and find out.” He guffaws at your cavalierness as you move back to eating. Although, he really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Ok sheesh, Miss bossy”, he comments. He just really knows how to get on your nerves, first with Sunday, then with Emily, now this stupid nickname he used to call you when you were mad as a kid.

“Oh come on, with that little stunt you pulled with Emily you should be happy I haven’t ripped into you even more.”

“Listen, for your information I already apologized to Bob about that whole….”, he pauses to motion with his hands, “...ordeal. And Emily thought she was being set up with me so… I am not the one to blame here.”

“Oh yeah? And who is?”

“Ask Phoenix! The woman never even told her Bob’s name!”, he laughs as you give him a slight smile at the absurdness of the whole situation. It’s quiet for a beat as you ponder his explanation.

“She really didn’t tell her his name?”

“Not a damn letter. And the man only has three.” You breathe a small laugh at his comment as he shakes his head. And for a second the two of you sit there and smile, enjoying the playfulness you once shared as children. Which causes you to remember a nickname you haven’t heard in years that he uttered seconds ago.

“And by the way, it’s Lieutenant bossy now. Brad Brad.” He chuckles and shakes his head, the two of you coming to some sort of silent agreement. You feel like a kid again, in a good way this time. It almost makes you forget about the six foot WSO with the beaming blue eyes sitting tables behind you.

You somehow make it the whole day without a real interaction with Bob. You’ve caught fleeting glances of him, and he seems so… normal. Like nothing happened at all. It makes you nervous, even more so than usual. But, you keep telling yourself that it’s for the best. If the two of you ignore everything, life can go on. But there’s still the tiniest part of yourself that longs to know what he’s thinking. Wants to know him more than you do. Just another voice you have to try your best to shut off.

-----------------------

Bob can’t help but tap his foot as he waits for the day to start. If you weren’t going to say anything to him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring up anything to you. He checks the time on his watch. Five minutes before your usual start time, but you, Halo, and Phoenix aren’t here yet. He alternates looking at his watch, and glancing at the door as the room starts to fill in. It goes on for a couple more minutes until you finally enter. He’s nervous again. Overthinking every little thing, he averts his gaze before you get the chance to look at him. His boot is still hitting the floor even as you take your seat behind him.

“Floyd”, Hangman barks, “Leave the tapping to Fred Astaire, will ya?” Bob turns his head at his remark, giving him an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry”, he mutters before turning to your father at the front of the room. He spotted you out of the corner of his eye, about to say something to Hangman, but thinking better of it as Cyclone entered the room. You could almost hear everyone adjust in their seat to sit up straight as he made his way to the back of the room. After the dust settles and Maverick takes a second in between talking, Bob swears he can hear the quietest tapping of a pencil coming from your desk.

-----------------------

You’re not paired with Phoenix and Bob… again. Which you’re grateful for, you guess. But you also miss talking to your friends. Flying with them. It’s funny, really. You joined the Navy because you wanted to be like your dad, and you found aviation fascinating. And now, you’ve found your own community, your people. Even if it was one of the hardest things you’ve had to do, the first time you stepped foot in a jet you knew it was what you were meant to do.

You’re all back in the classroom after your first flights of the day, discussing once again what could have been done better. There’s all little tweaks Maverick suggests to everyone, not just you this time. And it feels good knowing you did a good job.

“All in all, great job everyone. Have a good lunch”, he excuses the group. You move to grab your stuff and head to the mess hall before your dad calls out for you. “Mantis, would you stay back for a second?” Nodding, you drop your stuff and take Phoenix’s seat in the front row as he rounds his podium.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing good”, you nod, “Feeling good.” He chews on your words for a second before double checking.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you laugh, kind of annoyed at the moment. But you understand where he’s coming from, “Flying’s been helping. A lot.”

“Good. That’s good.” He moves back behind his podium, shuffling a couple of pieces of paper before opening a file. “Cyclone”, he starts as you tense at the name, “has been talking to me. About you.”

“Am I in trouble?”, you ask out of reflex.

“No”, he reassures you. “Quite the opposite actually.” Hanging his head, he looks down at the papers before him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous. “He’s been keeping you in mind for something. Just wants to make sure you’re up for the challenge.”

“Another mission?”

“Looks like it”, his gaze is stern as he looks at the file, but as he looks back to you his eyes soften. “Are you going to be ok to do this?” With that look you know he’s not just asking as your Captain, he’s asking as your dad. Your eyes soften with his the slightest bit as you smirk.

“Always, old man.” He chuckles as you smile with him.

“Ok”, he shrugs, “Training for this one won’t start until this storm moves out. I’d expect an announcement from Cyclone sometime next week. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Your hands are trembling again as you navigate the halls to find a vending machine since you forgot to pack your own lunch this morning. It’s a good sort of nerves that make their way through your system. The training for the last mission was brutal, but good. It kept your mind off of anything of real importance. That’s just what you need right now. A distraction. Which is where your mind is at right now as your brain fills itself with incessant thoughts of what you need to do to prepare as well as a bag of chips, but you’re hitting something and falling to the floor before you can process what’s happening. The sound of a handful of what looks to be peanuts roll on the floor, but you can still hear an, “Oof”, through it all.

Your eyes widen as you look over to the man sitting on the floor in front of you. His eyes mirror your own as the two of you share the longest moment together since this past weekend. Shaking your head, you move to stand as he does.

“I’m so sorry Bob”, you start as he dusts himself off, “I didn’t see you.”

“That’s alright”, he rushes out as he looks over his almost empty bag of peanuts. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you either.” He’s trying his best not to look at you as he starts to pick each individual peanut off the floor. You rush to help him and he still doesn’t look your way.

“You don’t need to do that”, he tells you as the two of you clean the floor.

“I do, it’s my fault”, your hand is already full as you find the nearest trash can to throw the ruined peanuts away. You spot the vending machine he must have just bought them from, tucked in its own little hallway. Before he can stop you, you’re already checking to see if you have enough change before locating their spot in the case. There they are, B4.

“What are you doing?”, Bob complains as he throws his handful and the bag away. You continue to reach in your pocket, not bothering to answer him as he already knows exactly what you’re doing. “Mantis, c’mon. It’s ok. You don’t need to do that.” He watches you bite at your lip as you put in the first two quarters until all you’re left with is a penny. It’s obvious you were going to buy something for yourself. But he’s also pretty sure that the penny in your hand is the same one he slipped you in Phoenix’s kitchen, and the flick of your eyes to his as you clench your fist around it confirms his suspicions.

He swallows as you press the buttons on the machine. The spiral whirls as you give yourself the confidence to speak. Not look at him. Just speak.

“Bob, can we- can we talk?”. The bag drops to the bottom of the machine with a large thump, almost triggering the laughing of Hangman and Coyote as they walk through the hall behind him. He turns as they walk, his eyes wide as he looks back at you.

“Here?”, he whispers.

“No”, you whisper back as you glance over his shoulder. You bend to grab the bag, and grip it tightly before holding it before him, “Later.” You determine for the two of you. He reaches out to the clear bag of peanuts, accepting your offer as you walk around him and into the mess-hall.

Bob’s palms start to sweat as he watches your retreating form. He rounds the corner expecting to see you sitting with Rooster again, but there you are. Sitting at your usual seat next to his vacant one. He stops in his tracks, surprised at your actions, but quickly moves back to the table. Phoenix shoves her own bag of chips your way as you accept with a gracious smile. Your ability to switch mindsets so quickly baffles him as he sits next to you with a smile. The same kind of one you return to him, the ones that don’t quite reach your eyes. He’s not gonna make it through this conversation.

-----------------------

Bob’s house has never been this daunting to look at. The white shingles are practically taunting you as you sit in your car. You don’t even know how long you’ve been sitting there, just delaying the inevitable. You immediately changed into some regular clothes after getting home, but sat on your bed for a good 45 minutes working up the courage to drive over here. And even then your car took a few minutes to get started. The voice in the back of your head told you it was a sign that you shouldn’t even bother coming over, but you knew that was an even worse idea than talking about what happened. Getting up the nerve, you vacate your car, and make it halfway up his driveway before a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Oh finally.”

“Rich, don’t be rude. She can probably hear us.” Turning your head, you find two men, probably ten or so years older than your dad, sitting on the front porch just to the right of Bob’s home. One’s got a mug of what you assume to be coffee in his hands, while the other nurses a glass of what looks to be wine. They’re both taken aback as you squint at them in the setting sun. “I’m so sorry about him, I told him to go light on the chardonnay, but…”, shrugging, he rolls his eyes at the other man.

“Oh, it’s ok”, you brush them off. Moving to take another step, his voice stops you again.

“It’s just, we were wondering why you were sitting there for so long”, the one you assume to be Rich pipes up. You suppose you were warned he hasn’t a filter this evening, but your eyes still widen the tiniest bit at his remark.

“Leave the poor girl alone.” Rich waves the other man off, turning back to you.

“We hardly see anyone coming or leaving that boy’s house, but we saw you leaving in a rush the other weekend and were just wondering-”

“We were not wondering anything, because we are not Bob’s nosey neighbors. Those are the ones on the other side of him, the Terrance’s.” You try your hardest to stifle a laugh as they continue to gossip.

“Oh do not get me started on the Terrance’s. ‘Oh Richard’”, he mocks, “‘It is against HOA policy to have a flag hanging in your window.’” You take a look around the well manicured neighborhood, taking note of flag poles proudly displaying the American Flag.

“But you can have a flagpole?” You ask.

“It’s not where it was that was the problem”, Rich responds, “She just did not want to see our beautiful rainbow among the red, white, and blue. That same red, white, and blue we served under, for her information!” The more level-headed one of the two reaches a hand out to Rich in an attempt to calm him. It pushes him further into his seat, and he takes a swig from his glass.

“Easy now, Miss-”, he turns to you as you’re taken out of your spectator seat in the conversation.

“Mitchell”, you reply. He smiles, and turns back to Rich who’s brow is set in a furrow.

“Miss Mitchell here probably has more important things to attend to with Bob”, he emphasizes, catching Rich’s attention,”Than sitting here listening to our quarrels with the neighbors.” As he moves his hand to motion over to Bob’s house, you take notice of the class ring on his finger, the ring that looks all too familiar to the one collecting dust in your closet.

“Do you?”, Rich asks, distracting you from the ring on the other man’s finger.

“Rich!”, he chides.

“I do- actually”, you shy away, remembering why you came over here in the first place. “But it was really nice meeting you-?”

“Oh how rude of me, I’m Harry, and this is my husband Rich”, he motions as Rich nods at you.

“Well, it was very nice meeting you Harry, and Rich”, you smile as you turn back toward the house. Taking a deep breath you move toward the front door. Clenching your fist in your hand, you raise it hoping it will knock on the door of its own volition, but you’re not sure if you’re ready. Screw it, you’re already kinda mad at him. He’s the one who left you and then ignored you at work! You never should have kissed him, even if you long to do it again and again.

“Do you think she’s gonna take longer on the porch than in the car?”, Rich asks in a poor attempt to whisper.

“No”, Harry gives in, “I think her arm will get tired by then.” Turning your head, Harry gives you a sad attempt at trying to look apologetic.

“I’m starting to think you’re just as bad as your husband!”, you shout from across the porch.

“I’m sorry!”, Harry shouts back, “This is the most exciting thing to happen to this neighborhood since Patty down the street got divorced!” You laugh through your nose, only turning back to the task at hand when the sound of the lock alerts you to Bob opening the door. You stare up at his ocean eyes as he blinks at the sight of you. Those same eyes flash in your mind from Saturday night, blinking rapidly before he-

“Hi”, he whispers. The raspiness of his voice catching you off guard.

“Hi”, you whisper back. His gaze moves to your still raised fist, and ever so slowly it moves back to your side. Without meaning to, your eyes fall to his pink lips and the feeling of his body against yours has you shaking the memory out of your head.

“Can I come in?”, you gently ask.

“Of course”, he responds, quickly moving out of the way to let you in. You’d usually slip your shoes off at the door, and as much as you want to spend longer with Bob, you’re pretty sure this is going to have to be a swift conversation. Just ripping the band-aid off.

Bob leads you further into the house, and soon enough you spot the fluffy black and white tail you’ve come to know and love. He must see you smile at the sight of her, because before you’re able to do anything about it, Bob is calling her over. “Syl, your best friend is here”, he taunts. Her head rises to rest on the cushion, and once she catches your eye she’s trotting over as you bend to pet her.

“Oh hey you sweet girl”, you praise her as she rolls on her back. Once her dad takes a seat on the couch, she’s up to grab his attention instead. You follow behind her, and for the first time, you are uncomfortable in Bob Floyd’s presence. It’s not even his fault, it’s your own. You watch him smile at her, scratching behind her ears until his hand stalls.

“Why are you ignoring me at work?”, you start. Taking in a deep breath, he sighs as he fidgets with his fingers. God damn those hands.

“ I could ask you the same thing”, he retorts, “But if I’m being honest I didn’t want to cause you any more stress than you were already dealing with. I thought that maybe if you wanted to talk you would come to me.” Stress? What stress- unless.

“Wait a second, what do you mean what I’m dealing with?” He hesitates before answering, still not looking at you.

“Your dad called me on Sunday.”

“Oh Jesus Christ”, you relent, “I had one bad day, I am fine now. I just wasn’t sure how to talk to you about”, you motion between the two of you with one hand, “this.” Bob’s staring up at you from beneath his glasses, that same look of pity everyone always looks at you with once they know. “See”, you point at him, “Right there. That is why I don’t tell anyone anything.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to pity me, or feel bad for me”, you huff.

“It’s not pity, Mantis. It’s worry. I worry about you”, he explains as your heart drops in your chest.

“If you really worry about me, then why did you leave me?”, you question. There’s the slightest tremble in your voice, one that most people wouldn’t pick up on. But Bob isn’t most people. He’s on his feet immediately at your words, slowly making his way over to you.

“I panicked. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get you in trouble, I guess. And I just ran.” You feel for him deep down, your own panic had taken hold of you. It just didn’t present itself until you fell asleep.

“I’m sorry, too. For waiting this long to talk to you. And for kissing you.” His brows crinkle as he cocks his head.

“You’re sorry for kissing me?”

“I didn’t- I shouldn’t have done it.” Bob is quick to interject. He knew it. He knew it all along that you only kissed him because you felt bad for him.

“No, I shouldn’t have said anything. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“Bob, I never said I didn’t want to do it. I just- I shouldn’t have acted on my feelings. I cannot stand to ruin your career, your life. I can’t.” His breathing just about stops, but he uses any oxygen he has left to swiftly correct you.

“How would you ruin it? I mean- you’ve already made it so much better.”

“Bob”, you sigh, “I will not let you give up your career. Or mine for that matter, over stupid feelings.”

“So my feelings are stupid?”, you glance back up at him as he furrows his brow at your insinuation.

“No! That’s not what I meant. Mine are.” You’re starting to wring your hands, it’s obvious you’re not getting your point across as eloquently as you would like.

“Well, what are your feelings? I told you how I felt, you never returned the favor.”

“Probably because you were already gone before I had the chance to say anything!” You argue. He frowns at your words, knowing it was a bad move on his part. “And it doesn’t even matter, Bob. It can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t ruin you! I can’t be selfish!”, you finally yell. He’s taken aback as you breathe heavily in front of him. It doesn’t even matter what he thinks, you look like you’re on the verge of another panic attack, so as slow as he can he walks up to your heaving form. He ever so slowly reaches out to your shoulders, and with a nod from you, he wraps you in his strong arms. You’re quick to wrap your own around him. His embrace is so warm, like finally being wrapped in a blanket after being out in the freezing cold for so long, only this time you know the cold is just waiting outside his front door to encase you once you leave. But you let yourself hug him, for the sake of getting to do it one last time.

“I can’t do that to you, Bob”, you whisper into his shoulder. He takes a step back and your arms fall from each other. He moves to push a piece of loose hair behind your ear absentmindedly as his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. “We can’t give each other what we want.”

“You haven’t even told me what you want”, his deep voice whispers as he gazes at your face, almost as if trying to memorize every inch and freckle.

“You already know”, his eyes flick back between yours at your whispered words. Your faces are already so close to each other. All it would take was a simple push from either one of you to be kissing again. You exhale a shaky breath, and before either of you can do anything, Bob’s jumping away from you again at the sound of the doorbell. Sylvia is retreating up the stairs at the noise, and Bob realizes who it is.

“Shit”, he curses under his breath.

“Who is it?” Bob stands there staring at you, wincing as Fanboy’s voice carries from the hall to the living room.

“I hope you don’t mind man, the door was open. And I brought pizza!”, lo and behold Fanboy is walking into the living room a little surprised to see you there as you give him the fakest smile you can muster. “Hey Mantis, are you here for movie night?”

“Of course! Why else would I be here?”, you grit through your teeth as you turn to Bob. He’s avoiding your gaze as he takes a dvd from Fanboy to get it all set up.

-----------------------

So here you are. Sitting on one end of Bob’s couch while he is on the other, Fanboy sitting in between the two of you. Completely clueless. He takes his third slice of pizza from its place on the coffee table, then leans back into the couch as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. You’ve been sitting watching Raiders of the Lost Ark long enough that Indy and Marion have made their initial escape, and are now sailing away, comfortable as she starts kissing him better. From the corner of your eye, you spot Bob shifting slightly in his seat as you do the same. Fanboy is perfectly content, sitting against the cushions as the two of you think about the other night. And what was about to happen before he showed up.

Your eyes are taken off the screen as a shrill ringing comes from Mickey’s pocket.

“Sorry”, he mutters as he takes it out. “Oh shit, it’s my mom.” He stands as he moves to the front door, yelling on his way out, “Pause it for me, will ya?” Bob does as he asks and the two of you don’t make any motion to move. He stares at the frozen screen, of Indy and Marion being so intimately close together before he speaks.

“Would you do it again?” You look over to him as he stares ahead, and then back to the screen.

“Bob”, you shake your head, “We can’t, you know the rules-”

“I didn’t ask if you could. I asked if you would. If you would want to.” You’re left staring at Bob with a blank face as he takes a deep breath in, anticipating your answer. His jaw clenches as you give the slightest nod of your head. You can’t lie to Bob. Along with the feeling of safety he encases you in every time you’re with him, the fact remains you can’t lie to him, and that scares the absolute hell out of you.

“Would you?”, you whisper, unconsciously glancing at his lips. His eyelids flutter at your movement and he swallows.

“Yes”, it comes out more as a breath than an actual response, but you understand it nonetheless. You look away from him, the weight of his gaze knowing you both want the same thing too much for you to handle. The hand that was fiddling with the rip in your jeans moves to settle where Fanboy once sat. You can see it out of the corner of your eye as Bob slowly moves to rest his hand next to yours, almost as if he’s scared you’ll move away if he gets any closer. His hand only rests next to yours until he reaches his pinkie out to sit right against yours, testing the waters. You ignore this altogether, reaching your hand to clasp over his, squeezing as he squeezes back just as softly. It has been too long since the two of you held hands, and you couldn’t go one more minute without the feeling of his large hand encasing yours.

Turning his head, the two of you watch your hands as he rubs his thumb over the back of yours. You look towards him completely and chew your lip as he brings his gaze back to your face. And like the two of you are magnets, completely attracting one to the other, you slowly move your faces closer and closer. You can feel his breath on your face, your hand still over his as he squeezes it tighter until- the sound of Mickey slamming the front door closed jolts the two of you back to your ends of the couch. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you stare straight ahead at the tv, it’s gone black now from being paused for too long as you try to focus on the bouncing logo. Saved by the damn bell, you guess.

Mickey slumps back into the couch with a quick apology and the movie starts back up. Almost as soon as he sits down, you’re on your feet. Met with two pairs of wide eyes, you give a brief smile to Mickey.

“I have to go home”, you rush out with an apologetic smile.

“What?”, Mickey asks, “The movie’s not even over yet.”

“I know, but my dad’s waiting for me. You know how it is”, you attempt to excuse yourself.

“No I don’t actually, because I’m not in High School anymore and I don’t have a curfew”, he laughs. Your dad didn’t technically have a curfew for you, but after your little walk on Sunday, he did tell you he’d like to be in bed by a certain time. And he was most definitely going to wait up until you got home. Shrugging, you make your way around the back of the couch until Bob shoots up out of his seat.

“I’ll walk you to your car”, he urges. He follows you to the front porch, and softly closes the door behind you. The sun has long set by now and the only thing you can hear is crickets chirping. You can’t help but find the parallel to the last time you were outside on a night like this… with Bob. Only this time, you’re sure you are going to go home knowing that Bob can only be your friend, your teammate. He stops short of his lawn as you turn around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work?”, you ask with a sad smile. He gives you the same one back, the good old courtesy ones you were so sure you were done seeing him give to you. He nods as you move to walk to your car, but the feeling of his large hand encasing your fingers and slightly tugging has you spinning back around and into his chest. While still holding your hand, his other moves up to your face, his calloused thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheek.

“Tell me to stop and I will. I’ll let you go and I won’t ever do this again.” His blue eyes bore into yours as your heart picks up speed. And you know you shouldn’t, but right now you just can’t care to give a damn.

“Don’t you dare”, you whisper. His lips are on yours immediately as your hands tingle, moving to touch him wherever you can. He hums in surprise as your hand moves up to run through his hair. With one hand still on your face, the other slides from your hand to your waist as he pulls you closer against him. Your lips are moving so fast against each other, it’s hard to discern who deepens it, but you don’t really care as his tongue slides against your own. He’s kissing you like a man starved, and you know you’re just as hungry for him as you pull him against yourself.

It’s almost a mirror of the other night as you start walking backward, hitting the passenger side door of his truck this time. You can’t help but whine into his mouth as his hand slides to the side of your neck, just the feeling of his hand on your bare skin is enough to have you seeing stars. With your free hand, you run your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him impossibly closer to you. With an “oomph”, he allows himself to press his body completely against your own. The pressure sends a tingle down your spine, and you’re quite positive that if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be melting into a puddle at the feeling.

Reflexively, your hips move forwards to meet his as he sighs against your mouth. Allowing himself to take a miniscule break, resting his forehead against your own.

“Please”, he pleads as his lips graze yours. And even though the kiss is just about over, you know what he’s asking. “Just- just one more”, and who are you to not give into the pleadings of a man who wants exactly what you do? This is not what you came over here to do, but you kiss him with fervor anyway, as his spit-slicked lips meet your own once again.

If you weren’t so distracted with the passion fueled meeting of your lips, you’d almost think his belt buckle was hitting your pelvis. But you know for a fact as your fingers tighten in his belt loops that he’s not wearing a belt. And that’s how you know this is affecting him just as much as it is you. Oh god.

Almost as if he knows what you’re thinking, and just how turned on you are, he moves so his thigh is slotted in between your own. He must feel you clench your thighs around his muscled one. And the pressure just feels so good, causing you to whine one last time against his mouth before separating and resting your forehead against his chest. As much as you want to keep going, you know you need to end it before you go too far. Or before you get arrested for public indecency. Then again, you’ve already gone much farther than you should have with Bob.

“You ok?”, he breathes as he rubs at your neck, a hint of his southern twang peaking out with the ask. You’re still breathing heavily, but Bob feels you nod against him.

“Uh huh”, you muster before you look up at him. Clearing your throat, the two of you don’t break eye contact until you look to his pink lips, swollen thanks to you. You rub any remainder of yourself off of his mouth with your thumb before looking back into his wide-eyed blues. Your hand lingering on his face. “I’ll um- see you at work tomorrow?”

Bob can only nod, knowing full well that this was a goodbye of some sorts. Not as friends, not as teammates, but as whatever could have been. You would be remiss if you didn’t take advantage of this opportunity, so you do. With the gentlest touch of your lips against his, a stark contrast to what you were doing seconds ago, you drop your hand from the slight stubble of his jaw.

“I’ll see you tomorrow”, he whispers. You nod at him this time, deciding to not give him a smile you both know is fake. Slipping out of his arms, his hand lingers on your arm as you walk toward your car, until your fingers fall from his. He watches as you go, and takes a moment to stare up at the night sky with his hands on his hips.

That was a little more hot and heavy than he thought it was going to be, so he takes a moment to collect himself before walking back inside and pretending absolutely nothing happened. Taking his glasses off with one hand, he runs a hand over his face with the other. He forces himself to think of anything but you, baseball stats, mowing the lawn, picking up after Sylvia. That seems to help cool him down as he darts back up to the front door.

“What I wouldn’t give to be kissed like that.” Bob’s head whips over to his right, and takes note of Harry sitting on his front porch, taking a sip from his cup of coffee, sudoku puzzle to his side.

“Oh God”, Bob mumbles as he turns back to his house, not bothering to say anything else to the man.

-----------------------

Taglist:

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@harrysgothicbitch

@mygyn

@luckyladycreator2

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@nerdgirljen

#why me?#top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #mavdad #robert bob floyd x female reader

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bigtreefest · 2 months

Note

I dare you to write a piece using a character that you want to, but have never had a chance to write for before. With the sentence "Well that was a surprise."

Saint or Sinner?

College! Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Word Count: 1,331

A/N: Amber!!! Thank you for tickling my brain with this dare! I honestly wanted to do Andy so badly, but this quote was screaming Lloyd to me and I couldn’t resist. To be completely honest, I had no intention of writing him, but my fingers tip-tapped away and I lost all control. I might’ve been possessed.

I also always plan on writing a Drabble, and then it ends up being as long as one of my fic chapters, but anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Smut (oral, m receiving), use of pet names, sociopathic tendencies, mean Lloyd, a twist?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Ever since you were old enough date, you’ve been happily independent. You grew up in a small town, surrounded by blue collar families, including most of the members of your own.

You’d always had a keen ability to fit in anywhere, which you attribute to your upbringing. Your mom worked a corporate job, while your dad spent all day in a mechanic shop.

You were well off, but not raised like it, and you’d never judge those who had less than you, even though that’s what a lot of people expected.

Once you graduated high school, you got into Harvard where you met Lloyd. Lloyd was someone who was good at keeping his distance. You noticed it at first when you invited him to join a study group you had started with some other members of your cohort.

You received a terse “No thanks, Pumpkin,” punctuated with a curt nod and a wink, before he went to hang out with his other friends and his team.

You had made multiple attempts to include him in group activities, or engage in conversation when you could nab a seat next to him in class, but after some time, you stopped seeing him altogether. You could tell he was avoiding you and the study group you had become closer with. You’d probably actually call them your friends, becoming just as close as you were to some people back home. They picked up on the same things too, seeing that you were humble, and carried yourself in such a proper manner, earning you the nickname “the Saint.”

When word of that got around to Lloyd, he rolled his eyes. You were the complete opposite of him. Kind, welcoming, calculated, while he was cold, unpredictable, sociopathic. He couldn’t stand how successful you were, too. Professors and students alike constantly praised you, more than willing to help you in any way through your academic journey and career beyond. Where he schmoozed, you gracefully existed and got just as far.

You were perfect in everyone’s eyes, including his own, which is what infuriated him. There had to be a weak spot, somewhere where your surface would crack, and he had initially tried to find it by turning you down all those times, but it was unsuccessful.

None of the manipulation tactics he had worked so hard on perfecting for so long made you budge, either. He’d pluck out a random friend from your group to join his. Nothing. He’d sabotage your flash drive for your presentation, you’d have a backup in your email, ready to go. After you’d gone, you wished him luck and no technical difficulties like you had, with a giggle! He was enraged.

After being at the top of your class, the two of you were selected to go to a conference in DC. It was hardly supervised by your professor who had booked two rooms for you next to each other, getting himself a suite a few floors above.

You knocked on Lloyd’s door in the late afternoon, the day before your presentation. He opened it just enough to peek his head through.

“What do you want?”

You sighed with your signature smile on your face. “Did you want to go over everything one more time before dinner?”

He looked you up and down, face as stern as it ever was when he was dealing with you. “Not really, Sunshine.” He slammed the door in your face.

What Lloyd didn’t know was that all his little tactics were really chipping away at you. All you wanted was to spend time with him, to get close. You couldn’t help it. You’d be lying if you said it was in your usual friendship way, too.

No, you wanted more. There was something about how aloof he was that drew you in. You were obsessed and not willing to give up until you got what you wanted, what you deserved.

His little tendencies weren’t upsetting because he was rude, they were upsetting because they were keeping you away from what your body and the deep, dark recesses of your mind were screaming for.

The door slamming in your face was the last straw. Lloyd wouldn’t get away with this any longer. You could see what he was trying to do, and if you had any say, you’d make sure it failed. You were going to be the winner of the little mind game he was playing.

To be honest, by this point, Lloyd had given up, thinking you’d never break. You were just too sweet, a true Saint. Treating you like this had just become habit, which is why he was almost confused when he heard muttering on the other side of his door.

You had taken the magnetic clip out of your hair and maneuvered it against the hotel key card reader until it unlocked. The door flew open and your eyes landed on Lloyd, stomping towards him and pinning him with his back against the nearest wall.

He looked down at you, face unreadable beside his eyes being slightly wider than usual.

“Why are you being like this!? What did I do!?” You gritted out, your tone threatening.

Lloyd didn’t say anything, only the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Tell. Me.” You slammed your hands against the wall, arms framing his head as you looked up into his eyes, your stomach pressed against his cock that was growing rock hard.

“Am I going to have to pull it out of you? Suck it out of you, myself?” Lloyd found himself at a loss for words for once. All he could do was part his lips slightly and give a small nod like he always did.

You began to unbuckle the belt of his ridiculously expensive pants, shoving them down just enough that you could see the hard-on pressing against his boxer briefs.

“Huh? Is that what you want? That what you need, Pumpkin?” You spat back at him, mocking his previous words.

His brain was finally beginning to catch up with the situation as he nodded down to you and you got on your knees.

“Yeah, do it. I know you want to. Suck me off.”

You didn’t need much more prompting, fueled by rage and control. You pulled down his underwear, his dick springing free.

You gave him no time to prepare, immediately licking from the base of his length to the tip before fully taking him into your mouth. Your mouth was stretching to accommodate his girth, but it was nothing for you in the lust of the moment. You set a vigorous pace, Lloyd’s head thrown back against the wall as he moaned loudly.

He pulled his head forward as his abs tensed, already close with the debauchery of the situation. He tangled his ringed fingers in your hair, helping to guide you along his length.

“That’s it. Keep going. Not such a Saint, are you?”

You hummed against his length in response, saliva dripping down your chin and his balls that you were lightly tugging in you hand. The other hand had its nails dug into his thigh, causing a slight sting that heightened the pleasure for Lloyd.

Before he knew it, he was coming down your throat. You pulled away as you swallowed his salty release, looking up at him and wiping off your face before standing up.

You caught his gaze again and Lloyd looked at you with bewilderment mixed with his post-orgasmic haze.

“Well that was a surprise.” He said between heavy breaths, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt again. Oh, he had no idea the tactics you had in store for him.

Your hands pressed against his abs in his knitted shirt. One stayed there as the other traced up his firm pec, past his collar and found purchase around his neck, lightly squeezing.

“So are you finally going to tell me what’s going on in the head behind that ridiculous mustache?”

Bonus A/N: Um… I don’t really know what happened. I think I blacked out.

#ST’s 100 follower truth or dare game #100 follower truth or dare game #truth or dare #dare #lloyd Hansen #lloyd Hansen x reader #lloyd Hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #the gray man #Chris Evans #st answers

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dduane · 1 year

Note

hi, i have a bit of a basic question about picket lines. is it only writers who could theoretically cross the picket lines, by writing? or is anyone doing any work for these companies technically crossing these picket line? there’s a lot of jobs in film and tv - do you need everyone’s support by striking? if not, what can people who do other work in the industry do to help writers right now?

I need to take a moment to clarify terms before getting into this. I’m using “crossing picket lines” to mean the act of moving through actual, physical lines of people walking in front of studios or entertainment companies. Differing from that is the act of writing for a struck company at this time, which is referred to as “strikebreaking.”

As I understand it, the answers to your questions about actual picket lines depend on who you are and who you work for.

If you’re employed in one of the “allied crafts”, your reaction to being met with a physical picket line is going to depend on your contract with your employer and your agreement with your own union. See this article at Variety and this article at the Hollywood Reporter for some details.

As for strikebreaking: If you’re a Guild writer, you’re under Guild strike rules now, and these are most specific about your responsibilities. There’s an FAQ on the subject here, and the rules proper are here.

The Strike Rules are careful to emphasize that the Guild has no power to enforce the behavior of non-Guild writers (or others). But at the same time, Guild members are required to inform the Guild of anyone they discover to be strikebreaking. And should such strikebreakers ever want to join the Guild at some later date, they will never be allowed to.

Finally: people doing other work in the industry who also want to support the Guild should get in touch with their own labor or union reps to see what they recommend.

HTH!

ETA: Via @jayblanc, with thanks: "I'd also note that the closing statement from the Variety article has been outpaced by events. There was a cross-union meeting last-night in LA and NY simultaneously where IATSE, DGA and SAG-AFTRA leadership showed up to give support. And also the Teamsters. And also all the other unions involved with Big Media, including Plasterers’ and Cement Masons."

Link to the Holllywood Reporter article:

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/business/business-news/wga-holds-massive-solidarity-rally-with-hollywood-labor-allies-1235479365/

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echobx · 3 months

Text

soulmates 1 - jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: y/n is on a double date with her boyfriend when she runs into her actual soulmate

warnings: none

word count: 3.5k

author's note: idk what to say

In a world where you could hear your soulmate's thoughts, as long as they were thinking about you, as long as they were at least 16, it was still very difficult to find them. Most people would go their whole lives without even meeting the person they were connected to, most people had found their peace with it, and so had you…

“I'm taking you out for lunch,” your boyfriend, Kelce, pressed a kiss to your cheek. You had never heard his thoughts, but that was okay. Maybe you were secretly sad about it, but a lot of people had the same issues as you. You had anticipated your sixteenth birthday like any other kid, but even more so because your parents were soulmates, having grown up together they had gotten lucky. But you weren't blessed with the same luck. This wouldn't mean that you didn't love your boyfriend. No, Kelce was nice and sweet and loved to show you off to his Kook friends. The split between Kooks and Pogues had never been to your favor. Your parents were hardworking middle class, too poor to be Kooks, too wealthy to be Pogues.

“Where are we going?” You smiled at him. “Country Club, haven't been there in a while, especially with you.” He smirked and you had to laugh. “I see, you just wanna show me off,” you giggled, not at all foreign to the concept. You got up and tugged on your dress to make it fall evenly. “You are so beautiful,” he complimented you and leaned down into a kiss. You were an uneven couple, everyone could see it, but you didn't mind it at all. You knew that they all just saw him as the rich kid that got in fights with Pogues because he couldn't keep his mouth shut. But to you, he was kind and loving and just the best boyfriend you could wish for. He made you forget that you weren't even soulmates. “Will the others be there?” you asked while the two of you walked out of his house and towards his car. “Just Topper and I think his new girlfriend. He's been so up my ass ever since Sarah dumped him for that Pogue John B. I hope the new one will help,” Kelce said and held your door open so you could get in. “I hope he can forget about Sarah, it's not like they were soulmates,” you noted while he got in too. “Right?” “I don't know, he never told me,” Kelce shrugged and started driving.

It had been a real scandal when the Kook princess had run off with the Pogue, no one could understand why she would do such a thing, but to you, it was clear. You didn't have to look at them twice when you saw them around town, they were clearly meant for each other, they had gotten lucky. You hoped that you might find your person once you moved away to college. The statistical probability of finding your soulmate in a close radius to your home was pretty low. That's why multiple companies were now making big profits with the desperation of people who just wanted to be happy. They created apps and websites to “help” you find “the one”, but even those only helped in about 30% of the cases. All in all, your chances were pretty low, but you had just turned 17, and had been with Kelce for only three months. Your life was still ahead of you, your chances were still not completely low. But you also told yourself to not hope, to not get caught up in the search because you didn't want to end up like the people they sometimes showed on TV.

“… and then he just hits a hole in one on the last game, can you believe it?” Kelce laughed, and you realized that you hadn't paid any attention to his story. “Impressive,” you note and smile at him. “Yeah, but God, I miss that guy.” It took you a moment to figure out that he was talking about Rafe. Rafe Cameron, Kook prince, technically after the death of his father Ward, the new Kook King, but you didn't care so much about semantics. He had left Kildare, where to, you didn't know, but you knew he was out for the big money, just like his dad. You reached for your boyfriend's hand and held it, hoping he would find some sort of solace in your touch. You hadn't known Rafe well either, you still didn't know many of Kelce’s friends because you had mostly been focused on each other at the start. “I think he's gonna come back.” Your words gave him a bit of hope, and he smiled before parking the car.

Kelce got out and opened the door for you, like he always did, like a gentleman would. “Chivalry is a must,” your mom had always told you. From a young age on, she had made sure that you knew your worth and held your standards up high. “Thank you,” you blushed as he closed the door again and pulled you into his side. “We're going all out, sugar. Double dates deserve some extravaganza,” he chuckled. “Oh, how darling of you,” you said in a pretentious voice, and the two of you laughed even more. It was easy with Kelce, he made you feel good about yourself, and you had wished nothing more than for him to be your one and only.

You walked inside and someone guided you to your table, Topper and his new girlfriend, Sheila, already sitting there. “I'm sorry for being late,” you apologized to Top and gave him a quick hug before sitting down opposite of him. “Oh no, we were just a little early,” he brushed it off and then started talking to Kelce about a new boat he wanted to buy. You would've talked to Sheila if her eyes hadn't been fixed on the waiter.

He was tall, had blond tousled hair and his shirt sat tightly on his body, showing off that he had muscles although looking rather lean compared to Kelce. ‘Not bad,’ you thought to yourself, and his head perked up, and he started looking around. ‘Just a coincidence, nothing more, there are many people here who are thinking about him. He's working, of course you think about your waiter. Hell, Sheila hasn't been able to even take her eyes off him and Topper doesn't even notice,’ you had turned back to looking at Kelce, not noticing that the boy was now eyeing your table very carefully. ‘Don’t tell me she's a fucking Kook,’ you could suddenly hear an annoyed voice in your head. “Everything okay?” Kelce asked and brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “You look like you've seen a ghost,” he joked, and you shook your head, trying to regain composure. “Yeah, no, I'm okay, just remembered the time I saw a guy run over a cat. I don't know why I thought of that,” you lied, and he gave you a quick kiss. You couldn't let them know what had just happened to you, especially not Kelce, you couldn't break his heart.

“Topper,” the boy came over and greeted him with a fake smile, not even giving Kelce or you any attention. “JJ, nice to see you,” Topper laughed lightly. ‘JJ? Peculiar name,’ the thought popped into your head, but he didn't turn to you, instead he looked directly at Sheila, who seemed to be more than intrigued by him. “What can I get you?” JJ asked, still only looking at her. Topper ordered for the two of them, as well as for Kelce and you because JJ still hadn't paid us any attention. Then he walked away and you had to scoff.

“What an asshole, right?” you mumbled to yourself, and Kelce immediately kissed your cheek. “The amount of times I wanted to rip that smug smile off that Pogue’s face,” he hissed and watched JJ vanish inside. Your heart got heavier, it had been clear that there was something between them, but the fact that the boy enraged Kelce this much meant nothing good. “He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of you,” you chuckled at Sheila, trying not to seem too disappointed by it. She laughed and put her hand on Topper’s shoulder. “Oh, that Pogue wishes.” But you knew the look she had given him, everything else was just a very bad lie in your eyes. “Yeah,” you laugh quietly, before getting up. “I'm gonna go freshen up just a little,” you told Kelce and he nodded. “Don't be too long, or I'll come find you,” he joked, a loving smile on his lips as you turned around and walked inside.

‘Fucking Sheila? Why her? Why not me? I was right there, asshole!’ you screamed at JJ in your mind, knowing well enough that he would hear it. ‘What are you talking about?’ the voice in your head replied, his voice. ‘I didn't even want a fucking salad, okay! I wanted fries! But no, you couldn't even dare to look at us and ask what I wanted. And now I'm stuck with a stupid ass salad, because Topper is stupid,’ you let out all of your frustrations as you checked your makeup in the mirror of the restroom. ‘Fuck!’ he exclaimed inside your head, and then it was silent again.

You got back to the table and just a moment later JJ arrived with two of the four plates. He still didn't give you any notice until he came walking back, with a steak for Kelce and a plate of fries for you. “She didn't order fries!” Kelce barked at him, but you just put your hand on his thigh. “I did, I changed my order inside,” you lied without giving JJ a single look. ‘Never seen Kelce act like a fucking dog. Who are you, pretty girl?’ JJ thought, but you couldn't let it show how much it made your heart falter. “Why are you still standing here?” Sheila asked loudly, and you finally turned around to look at JJ. Your eyes met, and you couldn't be sure if it had been your own or his thoughts that let a silent “wow” slip. “My bad, enjoy your food,” JJ said, still staring at you as he walked away, unable to take his eyes off of you, really. “Why was he looking at you like that?” Kelce asked and you gulped lightly. “I don't know,” you mumbled and started eating.

‘What's your name, pretty girl?’ his voice was back in your head, and you nearly would've spit out your water. ‘You already know mine, so it's only fair. And it's not peculiar. I just don't like what my parents chose, so I'm doing my own thing,’ he explained, and you could see him walking around, doing his job while very casually trying to get to know you. ‘I have a boyfriend,’ you remind him, but he just laughed inside your mind, a nice wholehearted laugh that sounded almost like music to you. ‘I’m glad you like my laugh, princess, but don't forget about your boyfriend. Isn't he the best? Only tried to kill me last year,” JJ’s words made you choke on a fry. “Hey, y/n, are you okay?” Kelce asked, and you nodded, taking a sip of water to try and calm your throat. “Yeah,” you said and tried to smile at him. You knew of his temper, being the only one who could calm him down most times, but you would have never thought that he would actually willfully hurt someone so much that they would potentially die. “We can leave if you don't feel so well,” he spoke in a soft voice, but you couldn't stop thinking about it. About how he must've hurt JJ, about what he could've done to him. “I'm fine, really,” you pressed out and turned back to your plate, half empty, but you felt like eating another fry would just cause you to throw up. “I'm just gonna use the restroom real quick,” you excused yourself and all three of them gave you a weird look, but let you leave without further questions.

‘Where did you go to, pretty girl? I didn't mean to scare you,” his voice was back in your mind. “Stop talking!” you screamed and stopped in your tracks, you hadn't even noticed that you had actually said it out loud until the whole Country Club was staring at you. Quickly, you ran towards the restroom and hid in a stall. You didn't know how much time passed as you hid and cried into yourself. This was definitely not how you had imagined it going, having him so close but so far, being caught in between a feud that you hadn't even known existed. ‘Hey, princess, he's getting impatient, and I really don't wanna deal with that shit,’ JJ whispered to you. ‘Y/n,’ you told him. ‘That’s my name. But everyone calls me y/n/n, apart from my parents, my parents call me Bean, because I only ate beans as a baby.’ You didn't even understand why you told him this very particular thing about yourself, when you had never let anyone know about your parents' weird nickname for you. ‘Cute,’ he chuckled. ‘Will you come out again? I don't want to have to come in there, and then have to give you back to him as if he should have any claim over you,” JJ muttered, he was disgusted by the thought of Kelce kissing you. ‘You don't have to be so mean, I can still hear you. Also, that's disgusting, he doesn't kiss like that,’ you thought but had to laugh about how weird he made it look in his head. ‘Makes it more bearable though,’ JJ admitted. ‘I have to talk to him, how the fuck am I supposed to do that? He already hates you.’ You buried your face in your hands. ‘I won't let him hurt you, princess,’ he replied to your thoughts and the more you talked to each other just like that, the less you had to fight yourself to hide it, everything got easier. It was like listening to music while doing homework, as long as you kept on concentrating on what was in front of you, the music wouldn't bother you too much. But it also could be all encompassing as soon as you let it. Yet you also wondered why he was so protective of you, a girl he had only just met. ‘My best friend had a lot of issues, Sarah got hurt in the process, not badly but still. I don't want that for you, for us,’ JJ explained, and you wiped your tears away. ‘Topper’s ex?’ you asked and stood up, wiping your dress down to seem more respectable again. ‘Sarah, yes, I bet you heard. Kooks and Pogues don't always mix well, but she's a Pogue now,’ he spoke of it so casually as if he didn't mind at all. “I'm neither,” you spoke up, but you knew he could still hear you. ‘Your boyfriend is a Kook, that's already too much,’ he said and the disgust that he held for Kelce was incredibly draining. “I don't choose who I fall for. It's not my fault,” you told yourself as if it was a manifestation.

‘Do you really love him?’ JJ asked just as you walked out of the restroom, he was leaning on the wall opposite of the door, eyeing you wearily. “I don't know,” you replied out loud, and he couldn't help but smile, suddenly everything you had thought to know of love was thrown out the window. This feeling was completely different from anything you had ever felt before, and you never wanted to feel anything else ever again. ‘I would kiss you, but I'm not gonna give him any ammunition to hate you more than he already will once he finds out,’ he thought as his eyes darted down to your lips. It was like you were frozen, both unable to move as you stood on each side of the hallway. ‘Probably better.’ You smiled and blushed a little over his boldness. “They have been asking for you quite a lot, wondering where you are, why you aren't coming back. And yet not one of them made a single move to go check on you,” JJ spoke with a low voice. “I should really go back then,” you whispered, and he gave you a small smile before you turned and walked back to the table. You knew he felt the small tingling feeling that settled in your guts, you knew he could feel you because you could feel it in him too. No one had ever mentioned that it wasn't just thoughts, but a direct connection into the inner world of the other.

“I'm sorry, I’m really not feeling too well,” you apologized while sitting back down at the table. Topper eyed you, and you felt like he knew, like he could see it in your eyes. “I can drive you home,” he suggested sweetly. “I don't want to cause any trouble, I can just call an Uber,” you said and turned to Kelce. “I'm really sorry.” “Nonsense, let Topper drive you home and if you don't feel better I'll just come by, and we can watch a movie together.” He smiled and put his forehead to yours. ‘Oh, vomit,’ JJ’s thought popped into your head just as Kelce placed a small kiss on your lips. “Uh, yeah, we can do that,” you told your boyfriend and got up. “See you later then,” you said and walked away with Topper by your side.

You didn't want to think of JJ; you didn't want to think of hurting Kelce; you didn't want to think at all, but as soon as you were sitting in Topper's pickup truck he turned to you. “Tell me it's not JJ,” he said as if you had committed a crime. “I don't know what you mean,” you lied. ‘We really gotta work on your lying skills, princess,’ JJ chuckled. “I know that look, I had to look at it for two months before Sarah admitted it to me. Promise me to not break his heart, it's already hard enough as it is,” Topper said and you nodded shyly. “I didn't want this,” you said, but JJ just laughed, and you had a hard time pushing him into the back of your mind. ‘Are you only good at lying when you're doing it to yourself?’ “I had hoped that it would be him, and then it wasn't, and I was okay with it. I didn't want this now, I was okay with it never happening. I don't want to hurt him,” you started crying and Topper leaned over and hugged you. He had never hugged you like that before, it felt good to be cared for by someone who wasn't Kelce for once. “Please don't tell him,” you whispered as Topper pulled away again. “I won't, but you should, as fast as possible, actually. It's only been three months, you haven't even said I love you yet, right?” Topper asked and turned on the engine. “Yeah, no, we haven't. I just don't know how to. How do you tell someone that?” you asked, but he couldn't give you an answer that wouldn't hurt either of you in the end. ‘You just say, “Hey, Kelce, you big asshole, I'm actually already bound by the universe to the very charming, extremely hot and sexy JJ Maybank. See ya’” or something like that,’ JJ told you, but you couldn't reply, your heart felt too heavy, heavier than you ever imagined possible.

“Top?” you asked quietly. “Yes, y/n/n?” the boy answered just as he stopped in front of your building. “Kelce hates him, JJ, I mean. They hate each other, don't they?” You already knew the answer, but you hoped for some more intel on it all. “Yeah, it's not pretty. I tried to stay out of it, it was mostly Rafe's fault, but the Pogues aren't that innocent either. It's better if you tell him before anything happens, trust me. I don't want to see you get hurt,” Topper explained with a sad smile. You didn't know that he cared so much about you, never truly having considered him your friend. “Will you look after him, or just make sure he doesn't do something stupid once I-” The words got stuck in your throat but Topper just nodded. “Took me some time to understand it, that you don't have a choice in this. He's gonna have to accept it,” he said, and you opened the door to get out. “Thank you,” you said and wanted to close the door to walk towards your home. “Y/n? If you need anything, you can just call me, just because you and Kelce are gonna end, doesn't mean we aren't still friends,” he told you and you nodded. “I'll remember, thanks for the ride,” you said goodbye and walked towards the apartment building.

part 2

#jj maybank #obx #my writing #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #obx fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fanfic #~fanfiction

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 1 year

Text

paradigm - seonghwa (m)

summary: bored, at work, you start to realize your fellow bartender seonghwa is hot. like really hot. after talking, you find out you’re both having dating trouble. how bad would it be if you helped each other out, just a little bit?

word count: 4.4k

warnings: smut!!!!! switch!seonghwa (leaning bottom), switch!reader (leading top), afab reader, oral (m receiving), cumplay, penetrative sex (unprotected), mentions of alcohol

masterlist

dating sucks, and lately your roster has been disappointing you exponentially. you need new blood, but you’re not sure where to go to find it. you’re tired of apps, bored with shitty conversations and no follow through, and if you have to waste another night out at an expensive restaurant just for the most mediocre sex of your life then you might start to consider celibacy.

you’re griping about all of this to your friend from work, seonghwa, when a customer comes in and ruins the mood. you’re technically off the clock, just here to bug hwa while the dinner rush trickles in, but you decide to do some prep for your shift tomorrow while you wait. you’re not a sommelier by any means, but in an attempt to class up the joint, the owner wanted to hire someone who could pose as a wine snob to make the place seem nicer. enter you, a self proclaimed connoiseur (you drank a lot in college). seonghwa is the night bartending lead, and also the most attractive man in the world, no competition. you’re staying late today to make a house sangria out of some poorly selling wines, but you also wanted to linger and make eyes at seonghwa with his newly bleached hair.

speaking of the object of your desires, seonghwa turns back to you after pouring a round of shots for a guy who barely looks 18 let alone 21, and he jumps back into your previous conversation.

“sorry, what was i saying?” he asks you, wiping his hands on a bar towel.

“did you card that kid?” you ask back, watching the customer struggle to balance the heavy tray of shots back to his table.

“yeah,” seonghwa shrugs. “it didn’t look like a fake but he’s definitely twelve.”

“you’re very ethical,” you point out, struggling to cut the orange in front of you, tongue poking out between your lips in concentration. seonghwa watches on, intrigued by the shock of pink poking your lips, but you interrupt his staring by saying “you were about to solve all my relationship problems before squarepants showed up.”

“right,” he laughs, gently taking the knife from your hands. “let me do this, you’re gonna chop a finger off. you shouldn’t be doing this with a paring knife anyway.”

“that’s all we have back here!” you complain. then, you watch in shock as seonghwa produces a utility knife from thin air. “you a magician?”

“no,” he laughs with that strained smile of his. “i’ve got a couple hidden back here-”

“safe,” you interrupt.

“-face down, in this jar, as safe as can be, thank you,” he continues, pointing to the jar he’s talking about.

“how’d you get those?”

“i asked wooyoung,” he shrugs. “they’ve got plenty in the kitchen so he said i could have some spares.”

“so helpful, that kid,” you say as you swipe an orange slice seonghwa just cut.

“hey!”

“cut em into rounds,” you instruct, taking little nibbles out of the slice in your hands. “they’re going into sangria, so make it pretty.”

“now i’m starting to understand why you can’t land a man,” hwa grumbles as he follows your request.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask in mock hurt.

“you’re high maintenance!”

“i didn’t ask you to do this for me,” you chuckle, taking the knife back from him. “go back to your job, the less we bother each other the earlier i’ll leave.”

“but then who’s gonna get on my nerves?” seonghwa asks with a pout.

“wooyoung?”

“probably.”

“oh, right, i was saying,” he starts again, messing with some of the quick pours, “if you can’t meet anyone on an app then you might have to, gasp, meet someone in person y/n.”

“i know that,” you groan. “but how? where? just start going up to strangers?”

“basically,” hwa nods. “you could start with boy wonder over there.”

“ok, if you’re not gonna be serious about this then we can talk about something else,” you say as you slide the completed slices from your cutting board and into the large sangria pitcher. “how’s your life? any problems we can solve there?”

“hm,” he thinks, “well, hongjoong pointed out yesterday that i haven’t brought anyone back to the apartment in six months, so that’s a new record i think.”

“six months?” you scoff. “i don’t believe you.”

“why not?”

“looking the way you do?” you ask. “no way you don’t get boned on the regular.”

“what do you mean looking the way i do?” seonghwa asks with a smile.

“never mind.”

“no, tell me in detail.”

“i need to grab an apple from the kitchen,” you say, trying to scoot past seonghwa to find your escape. unfortunately, he cages you in, arms enclosing around you and resting on the bar behind you.

“you like the way i look?” he asks with a smirk, and you decide to take the bait.

“um, yeah? especially with your hair like this, it’s kinda sexy,” you admit, not letting seonghwa get the best of you.

“oh?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at your response. he holds your gaze for a moment, and briefly, very briefly, you think he might kiss you. the sound of the bell above the door distracts seonghwa ever so slightly, and you’re able to slip from his trap before he can stop you again. you scurry to the back of house, hiding in the walk in for just a minute before you head back to the bar.

seonghwa is busy with some of the regulars at the bar, doing his best to relate to these old men and make their disgusting drinks without batting an eye. you’re able to take up your spot at the end of the bar, happily chopping fruit until you’ve got enough for two big pitchers of sangria tomorrow. you start pulling the low bottles from the wine rack behind you, and in your focused state you don’t notice seonghwa finishing up with the men and turning back to watch you. he’s leaning against the bar drying some glasses, his eyes sweeping up and down your body, noticing (not for the first time) how good you look in the uniform. he’s so focused on staring at your ass that he almost doesn’t notice you struggling to reach a wine bottle at the top of the rack, but he steps in and places his hand at the small of your back while he easily grabs the wine you were reaching for, handing it to you with a wink.

“thanks,” you blush, not expecting this small act of kindness from him. his hand lingers for a moment, and when he finally removes it, you can feel the warmth it left in its wake. “how long with you be here tonight?”

“till close, why?” seonghwa asks, hopeful.

“i’m putting this in the walk in, do you mind tasting it before you leave? that should be enough time for it to set, and just let me know if needs anything else?” you ask, not noticing how seonghwa’s face falls once he hears what you need.

“yeah, sure,” he replies. “so you’re heading out?”

“yeah,” you nod. “been here too long, i’m not getting paid overtime for this.”

“i can share some of my tips,” seonghwa offers, but you shake your head.

“i haven’t contributed, those are your tips m’dear.”

“but you did?” seonghwa says, confused.

“how?”

“looking beautiful,” he sighs, making you laugh at the way his face changes from serious to dreamy so quick.

“seonghwa if i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re coming onto me,” you joke, looking for any fruit scraps you might have missed in your clean up.

“and what if i am?” he comes back, and you stop. you look up at him and he just quirks that damn eyebrow again as if to challenge you to respond.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, hwa.”

“i’m just saying, we could help each other out!” he half shouts as you walk away, and you swat in his direction and tell him to quiet down. “think about it!” he calls after you one last time, and then you’re too close to the kitchen to hear what he might try to convince you with next.

you make it home just fine, warming up your dinner before you take a short shower. the whole time you go about your routine though, you keep thinking back to what seonghwa said. he was flirting with you, he made that clear. and when he said you could help each other out? your subconscious needs to hear more about that before it runs wild in your imagination. but you can’t just text him and say hey wanna come fuck?...right?

you decide to distract yourself with a show, doing your best to focus on their drama and not your own. you start dozing off a couple episodes in, the exhaustion from your day finally catching up with you. when your phone buzzing wakes you up, you notice how late it is. your first thought is about the restaurant, this is usually closing time, and then your next thought it seonghwa. did he try your sangria like you asked? that’s when you realize the reason for you phone buzzing was the man himself. you check the message and it’s a simple “hey” which makes you scoff. you sit up, pausing your show before you respond.

“hey,” you send. then, “did you try my sangria?”

“yeah,” he replies immediately. you watch as the three dots pop up for a moment, and disappear again.

“and?” you prompt, wanting an answer about your concoction before you go in tomorrow.

“i have thoughts,” he texts back. is he always this dry over text?

“what are your thoughts.”

a few seconds go by, but it feels like hours as you watch him type, and type.

“let me tell you in person ? :)”

seonghwa gets to your house in less than 20 minutes, so either he sped all the way here, or he was already on the way when he was texting you. sneaky bastard either way. he knocked quietly, and you opened the door quickly to find him standing there looking delectable as ever despite just working a closing shift. you open your mouth to say something when seonghwa speaks first.

“it needs sugar,” he says quickly, grabbing your face and kissing you after. it’s hungry, but meditated, like he’d been waiting for this. you weren’t the only one with occupied thoughts the past few hours, because seonghwa couldn’t stop thinking about all the things he wanted to do with you. the things he wanted you to do to him. while he’s got you by the mouth, you wrap your arms around his waist and fully pull him into your apartment, his foot catching the door to close it for you. you push him against it, hands itching to touch his skin as his hands settle at your neck. you grab wildly at his shirt, pulling him even closer to you so your breaths are becoming one and your lips stay locked together. seonghwa nips at your bottom lip, and you yelp, the pause letting his tongue explore your mouth. you moan at the taste of him, and he feels his cock stirring in his pants at the sound. with your hands still grabbing his shirt firmly, you tug him toward your couch, hoping you don’t back into anything as you walk. hwa’s hands fall from your neck to your waist, his eyes peeking open to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

you make it to the couch and pull seonghwa down on top of you, your hands sliding down his chest, memorizing every line and every dip, until your hands stop at his waist, trying to untuck his shirt so you can slip your hands underneath it and run your fingers over his skin. when he feels you make contact, he shudders, and you smile into the kiss, finally pulling back for a minute to catch your breath.

“sensitive?” you ask with a teasing glint in your eye, and seonghwa grinds down into you, earning a shocked moan from you.

“no, you?” he asks mockingly, brushing the hair from your face as he hovers over you. the way he’s looking at you is too sincere for your liking, but you can’t help admiring him in return. you’ve never been this close to him, and you’ve never noticed how deep his dark brown eyes are, or the way his sharp features get more delicate the closer you look. your gaze trails back down to his plump lips, reddened from your prior make out, and you nip at his lips to entice him to kiss you again. he’s easy to convince, because he’s diving in again, kissing you deeper this time. your hands continue exploring his soft skin, but you trail them lower to his belt and work at getting it undone. you don’t bother taking it out, you just undo it and his pants, letting your hand dip down to cup him over his boxers. the touch has seonghwa bucking his hips, his breath fanning over your cheeks as he pants at the contact. you can tell he’s trying to get more friction by moving his hips, but you’re not having that.

“ah ah,” you say, pulling back from the kiss and smirking when seonghwa chases your lips. “if we’re gonna do this you gotta be good for me. keep your hips still.”

“who said i have to listen to you?” he boldly quips, and a firm squeeze to the bulge in his pants has him caving quickly.

“my house, my rules,” you tease, tracing the outline of his cock lightly. “so? can you be good for me, sweet boy?” he eagerly nods, trying not to buck into your hand again as you cup him tighter.

“tell me how you want me,” he says in a voice that’s just barely above a whisper, and if his lips weren’t ghosting over yours as he spoke you might’ve missed it. you smile at him and peck his lips sweetly, removing your hands from him completely to cup his cheeks.

“on my bed? take your shirt off, and i’ll meet you in there.” he kisses you one more time, tongue dipping in to hold you there longer, but a quick pinch to his cheek has him pulling back sadly, sticking his tongue out at you as he untangles himself from your hold. you watch as he wanders toward the hallway, his hand reaching back to pull his shirt over his head. you could write sonnets about the way his back muscles contract as he moves, almost drooling as your eyes follow his every move. “second door on the right,” you call out to him, and then he disappears down the hall.

you want to make him wait a minute, so you take your time getting up and taking your own shirt off, discarding it on the couch before tugging your sleep shorts up high enough to accentuate your ass (since you know seonghwa loves staring at it so much). you walk toward your room, heart racing at what you’re about to do, but a quiet cry pulls you out of your thoughts. you slide to your door, catching yourself on the door frame as you look on in shock at seonghwa palming himself and tweaking one of his nipples. you’d keep enjoying the show, but your dramatic entrance and the gasp you let out at what you found distracts him, and he blushes but smirks anyway, motioning for you to join him.

“you took too long,” he sighs, grabbing your hand to pull you on top of him as soon as you’re close enough. you slot yourself over his crotch, careful not to make direct contact with his cock just yet. you drape your arms over his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while you speak.

“before we keep going,” you start, “can i ask something?”

“am i harder than i’ve ever been right now? yes,” he replies, and you laugh.

“no, but thank you for the insight,” you giggle, the motion grazing you over his lap. he contracts at the contact, and you sit further up into his lap before continuing. “i just wanna be sure, you’re clean right?”

“y/n, i told you, it’s been months,” he deadpans. “and i was plenty clean before that. so yes.”

“ok, well, i was asking, because, um, i don’t think i have any condoms?” you say sheepishly, and the color drains from seonghwa’s face. “so either we just do oral or you can come on my stomach.”

“stomach please,” he says quickly, and you smile at how eager he is.

“yeah?” and he nods again. “lay back for me then.”

“what, already?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“no baby, i’m gonna take it slow,” you say as you lift yourself from his lap so he can lay back on your bed. you crawl down his body, leaving kisses across his chest and down between the soft lines of his abdomen. “you’re really soft.”

“thanks,” he whispers, watching you intently. “new lotion.”

“hm, really?” you ask, kissing along the waistband of his pants. “what kind?”

“i’m not really sure babe, i’ll have to get back to you on that,” he says as he rolls his eyes, and you work on pulling his pants down. he helps you by kicking them off the rest of the way, and he keeps his hips raised, thinking you’ll take his boxers off next. you simply just press his hips back into the mattress and go back to sprinkling kisses across his waist, down his thigh, along the seam of his briefs, ignoring his cock completely as you move to the other side to repeat your motions. seonghwa groans above you, and it stokes your ego to know he’s affected by such meager attention.

“you sure you’re not sensitive?” you ask tauntingly, looking up at seonghwa but leaving your lips hovering over his cock. his eyes fall to yours and he whines at the sight of you so close to him but still separated, and you decide he’s had enough teasing for now.

“if i say yes will you just take these off?” he asks, but you’re already moving to free his cock from his final layer. his cock bobs as hwa lifts himself up to remove his boxers fully, and you feel proud at how red and swollen it is just from a few touches. you softly grasp it, earning a gasp from the beautiful man above you. you spit on it before twisting your hand to work him up a little more, and the whines leaving his pouted lips reminds you of what he said earlier.

“does it feel good, or am i hurting you?” you ask, wanting to make sure this is good for both of you.

“feels so good,” he breathes out, teeth clenched. “but i need to come soon.”

“really? couldn’t tell,” you tease, stroking him a few more times before leaning down to lick his tip. his precum coats your tongue, and you’re addicted to him and the sounds he’s making above you. you suck on the head, pulling back and spitting on your hand before you stroke him again, steadying him in front of you so you can swallow him in one go. when hwa feels his head hit the back of your throat, he cries out, shaking above you beautifully. you’re mesmerized by him, and you can’t help but watch as you bob up and down on his cock, stroking what you can’t fit. you flatten your tongue beneath him as you lick all the way back up, sucking on his tip again to get his attention. in his hazy state he stares down at you, eyes glazed over and mouth open slightly. he watches entranced as you go down on him again, and this time when you feel him at the back of your throat you suck, bobbing up and down messily, and you get to watch as seonghwa comes undone above you. his body jerks as he comes, shooting his load down your throat in spurts, but it’s such a strong orgasm you’re almost afraid he’ll never stop coming. you keep watching him even after he’s done, breathing heavily and sweat dripping from his forehead. you slowly remove yourself from his cock, holding the rest of his release that was sitting on your tongue in your mouth.

“so good to me,” he says breathlessly, watching you crawl back up to sit on his lap again. you give him a kiss, dipping your tongue past his lips so you can push the rest of his come into his mouth, and he moans when he realizes what you’re doing. his hands grip your hips, grinding you down into him, and you’re shocked to feel him hard again. you let hwa keep grinding you into his cock like that, making out with him slowly, until you can’t take it anymore.

“can i ride you?” you ask after detaching yourself from his mouth.

“do you even have to ask?”

“help me get undressed then,” you reply, and seonghwa quickly grabs the elastic of your sports bra and helps you pull it over your head. his hands carefully trail over your chest, taking time to pinch at your nipples which makes you buck into him for once. his hands keep going, tracing down your back to dip into your shorts and squeeze your ass. he pushes your shorts off then, leaving you in your panties, a wet patch almost dripping over his cock. you grind down into him to let him feel how wet you are, and his head falls back as he groans.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, tracing his fingers over your waistband before he dips a finger past the elastic to slowly pull those down too.

“death by pussy?” you joke as you help him take your panties off. “not a bad way to go.”

“yeah now that i think about it that might be a sweet deal,” he smiles. hands going wild trying to find purchase on your thighs, your ass, your waist. seonghwa watches with stars in his eyes as you grab his cock, lining him up at your entrance, and as you try to get him at the right angle he sees your arousal literally drip from you core, and you feel his cock twitch in your hand. “you are so sexy, y/n.”

“not as sexy as-ugh-you,” you grunt, feeling him at your entrance. you brace yourself on his strong shoulders, making eye contact with him before you sink down on his cock. “oh, fuck.”

“shit,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him. “maybe i did die. maybe this is what heaven feels like.”

“what’s it feel like?”

“soft,” he starts off, and then his face contorts as you grind down. “and warm. like you.”

“god, hwa, you feel so good stretching me out,” you tell him. “i’m gonna move now.” he nods, and you take that as enough encouragement to bounce on his lap, setting a fast rhythm to chase your own high. he shifts beneath you, trying to help you find the right angle, and when he moves just right and hits your g-spot you literally collapse on top of him, moaning straight into his ear as he bucks up to keep fucking you right where you need it.

“you good baby?” he whispers in your ear, and you just moan in response, thighs struggling to hold you up because hwa has managed to turn your legs to jelly. you regain some control by bracing yourself on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over his nipples as you try to pick your pace back up. you’re already close, and you clench down on hwa to test the waters, seeing how much more it’ll take before he comes too. “aw fuck, do that again, feels so good y/n.”

“you gotta tell me,” you huff out, squeezing him between your walls, “you gotta tell me when you’re close, remember?”

“i know,” he nods. “not yet though. loving your pussy too much, don’t wanna leave it.” his hands at your waist start to move, one circling around to cup your ass, the other sliding down to find your clit. hwa starts just by tapping it slowly, sending jolt after jolt through your core. your moans turn into high pitched cries, tears pricking at your eyes, and hwa slows to rub your clit with a determination to get you to finish before him. “look at me,” he says, and your eyes meet his. he takes in your fucked out state, bucking up to meet your hips again. you watch him as you crash into your release, almost yelling at how good it feels to have him fuck you through your orgasm. you’re quickly oversensitive though, so you bounce on him a couple more times before pulling off his cock, and the release from your warm walls has him coming as soon as the cold air hits his dick. you watch in awe as he jerks again, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he finishes on himself, come spurting up his stomach and even landing on your thighs still pressed up against his. you keep watching as he comes down, swiping a finger through the come that managed to land on you, and he sucks it clean off his fingers. he’s pulling you in for a kiss before you can do anything else, and then you feel his tongue pressing past your lips to deposit his release into your mouth. you pull back from him, spit and come connecting your lips, but you swallow and show him, a cocky smile growing over his face.

“that was hot,” you say, still trying to breath normally.

“yeah, we need to do that again,” hwa replies.

“again? now?”

“no, not now, unless you want to,” he says with a smirk. “but i was thinking more like another day. when we need it again.”

“that’d be nice,” you agree, and seonghwa slowly pulls you down to lay against his chest. he presses a kiss to the top of your head before he speaks again.

“and i was thinking...if we did this again..we could do it at my place, and do it by my rules. what do you say?”

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