junedenim · 3 days ago
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2009
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beneath the boardwalk, part 7 (series masterlist)
secret door
warnings: a tad angsty, a tad fluffy, a tad smutty, a sweet tooth, etc.
word count: 10.5k
Alex and I shared his childhood bed. I spent Christmas and New Year's with my family in Bath, but I made the trip up to Sheffield on the 4th of January for Alex's birthday on the 6th. It was a rather unremarkable birthday but it remains one of the coziest. Alex and I thought about going out to drink but his mum made him a cake. After we ate the cake, we were too tired so we played a game of Cluedo with his parents and went to bed.
After this birthday, I realized I enjoyed Alex's birthday more than my own. My birthdays have had the long tradition of ending in dramatics or sadness or just plain boring. The simplicity of Alex's birthdays has always brought me comfort, maybe because he doesn't want a party. He doesn't want to do anything. He just wants to relax and play Cluedo.
When we went to bed that night, we were practically stacked on top of each other. He offered to sleep on the floor because, although we had done the twin bed shuffle before, it never equalled the best sleep. I denied him and said I would. He denied me so I laid half my body on top of him to not fall off the bed.
I combed his hair back. It had grown out in the desert but was softer than ever. His mum made him get a trim, which tamed up the hair, making it fall perfectly as opposed to his faux sideburn days. "How's 23 feel?"
He shrugged and reached a hand up to push my curtain-like hair behind my ear. My hair was getting long too, which I was thankful for because I didn't want to resemble Alex too much. I had grown my fringe out in the desert. My hair looked shaggier than ever but I kind of liked the roughness of it. Maybe that was the part that resembled Alex's hair. "No different than 22," he said.
"I guess we've passed all the fun ages," I sighed. "We're truly adults now."
Alex smiled softly. "That feels weird. I know we've done all these adult things, but actually being referred to as one is still weird."
"I can always account for you being older than me. That's all that matters."
He shook his head, amused by me. "Those 3 months mean a lot to you."
"Yeah, they must have been the worst 3 months of your life."
"Why?"
"'Cause you were living in a world without me."
He kissed me and then said, "That would truly be." A kiss to the cheek. "Hell." A kiss to the neck. "On." A kiss to the right collarbone. "Earth." A kiss to the right breast.
*
In the latter half of January, the band went on a small Australian & New Zealandian tour. I went because what else would I do? The majority of the tour was for the Big Day Out Festival which was hosted in Sydney, Melbourne, Gold Coast, Adelaide, Perth, and Auckland.
Their first show back in Wellington came with the debut of some Humbug songs, which I had already known of through recording and rehearsals. But seeing "Pretty Visitors" live for the first time ever was life-changing, even if Alex did stand awkwardly with his hands in his jacket's pockets. Like Pinocchio came to life, still not adapted to his new body.
I used the label-comped airfare travel to explore rather than attend most of their concerts. The dates were compacted close together so I was the only one out of our crew that got to defrost from the British winter in the Australian sun.
In February, the band was due to return to California to finish the album. Late one night in Perth, Alex asked me, "Are you coming back?"
It had been a deflected point like most things. Pushed off until someone or something made the decision for me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to go back to London alone. I didn't want to be in California alone. Ultimately, the business card from Opal stuck in my wallet tipped the scale.
"I think I want to finish it out," I told him.
Excitement flashed in his eyes but he stayed still. "Are you sure? I'll be back before you know it. Everything will be fast. You won't even miss me."
I tugged at him. "Of course, I'll miss you. And you'll be off on tour soon and I like the idea of going with you but you know I can't do a whole tour with you. I have to be independent."
The greatest accomplishment in my life might be Alex's pride in me. I don't know how I earned his belief in me. It was there right from the moment we met and it never dissipated, even when we broke up. His smile flashed with pride then, small, but always proud in the stances I made for myself.
"I know," he said. "And I love being with you but I like hearing what you get up to when I'm away. And it'll be more flexible this time since you're out of school."
"And, maybe, I could get some work out in LA. Just freelance or something. I feel like I just gave up last time and didn't bother with a job. You know, me and complaining."
"Shush, you're opinionated. It's how I like my women."
"Women?"
He corrected, "Woman."
I chuckled and slotted my head on his shoulder. "I think maybe I'll get in touch with Opal. Maybe one day write for the LA Times. Would that make me a traitor?"
"No," he laughed, "just maybe a red coat." The skin near his eyes crinkled up, pleased with his joke. I prayed to make those wrinkles become permanent, for him to live in a lifetime of laughter, specifically from my jokes but I do get a special funny feeling when he's laughing at his own humor. It's like he's patting himself on the back, something he does physically do.
There was a question of giving in too much to Alex. I was chasing a boyfriend through the world, which was okay because I was traveling and exploring too and I wanted to be with him but I always worried about my association with him—clinging too tightly, representing an image of somebody who lived off of him. At times (and eventually), it consumed me.
*
In our rented LA home there was a bay window, which didn't look out on much other than the road and the opposing house. While Alex was at the studio, I sat there and wrote. By that point, I had compiled my essays in a file I called "LA Times." My intention wasn't to submit the works to the LA Times—I had yet to hear back from Opal on any openings—but it was simply something in the works—a digital diary of those past few Californian months.
I had begun submitting work and didn't hear back. I thought of getting a part-time job or babysitting gig, but it felt like a waste of my degree, and Alex had plenty of funds to go around.
Opal and I went out for drinks and it was the first time I went out in LA, independent from Alex. It was fast fun. Opal talked in excessive sweetness but was snarky in response to any disparity toward her.
She seemed so worldly but had never lived anywhere outside of LA. She wasn't any form of a writer but she worked with writers all day and asked if she could look at my work. I was shyly reluctant but she tugged it out of me. Some small 500-word piece I liked.
She gushed about it (and still does) insisting on me giving her more of my writing. I slowly trickled more pieces to her before she accumulated enough to give to her friend, Jackson Ferrera.
Opal began coming over to our house. If Alex was out late, we'd have dinner together. We drink together most Friday nights. We smoked a joint together once and she laughed so much she peed herself.
Opal and Alex had an interesting relationship. Opal paid compliments to his appearance like she did with everyone but it never verged on sexual or romantic. She was an observer like all of us, but she didn't write about it.
She'd also mock him as most girls do together behind their boyfriend's back. All remaining affectionate and loving. The kind of way I talked about Stacey. She was my pestering little sister who was also my youthful partner-in-crime.
"I love your hair, hon!" She said once to Al after he returned home to us watching Glee on the couch.
"Oh." He patted down the sides of his hair as if he forgot it was on his head. "I guess."
He left the room and Opal turned to me and said, "That man can not take a compliment."
I laughed and shrugged. "I've tried my best. I think he thinks you're lying to him."
"Why?!" Opal's mouth lay agape. "I'm not a liar."
I stared at her speculatively. "Everyone's a liar."
"I'm not." She placed her hand on her chest, insisting to me, "My mom told me to never lie."
I don't know if Opal has ever lied, not expansively. Not even little white lies. If you asked her how her day was, she'd tell you honestly. Maybe she fibbed and told half-truths, but she'd never fake compliment you.
She was judgy. On the other side of her kindness was someone who would honestly tell you that you look ugly in that dress. Her job seemed like her destiny, paid to have an opinion because she wasn't designed for fake niceties. I appreciated and needed the quality. It was a confidence boost and a humbling force.
*
For my birthday, Alex took me to Big Sur. We flew up to San Jose and Alex drove us down to our lodge where I fell asleep and woke up 23.
In the early morning, we walked along Pfeiffer Beach where the water was too cold and dangerous to swim in and the wind blew so hard it blinded us. We abandoned the beach, had lunch, and walked Point Lobos, which felt like we'd walked into a dream. The water waved its blues and the wind waved through the trees just right to create the perfect breeze.
"You know," I said, "this is the first trip we've ever been on. Just you and me."
Alex bowed his head and said, "Suppose that's my fault. At least we've done Wicklow."
"I know, but it doesn't really count. We probably wouldn't have gone if we weren't in Dublin." We both walked with our hands in our pockets and it was easy to think of all those talks we'd had before with our hands stuffed into our jeans pockets.
Alex smiled, his eyes covered with sunglasses, and his hair framing his face. "I'm making up for it now. Best I can." He placed one of his hands on the small of my back; a reassuring touch. Alex often felt insufficient and I wasn't the best at combating that doubt. I know he's carried guilt for self-claimed selfishness. If we were both older I wouldn't have tolerated this in the manner I did at that age. I never cared that he wanted things because he wanted me to be a part of them. However, there was always a sense that Alex had to "make up" for what he had done. I don't know if that hurt me or pleased me.
When we finished the trail we had to go back to our lodge because Alex had slipped down a hill and cut a hole into his jeans. Believe me, very funny, I wish I had it to submit to Funniest Home Videos but alas...
Alex drove for the majority of the trip. I wasn't very good at driving in America. It confused my brain. I reached over, brushing a chunk of his hair behind his ear like he had done for me countless times. "You think you're going to keep it long?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Do you think I should?"
"If you like it," I permitted.
He glanced over and gave me a look. "Does that mean you don't like it?"
I hummed. I had never really thought about it. "No. I like it," I decided. "It makes you look older. I think if you had the same cut as college you'd still look like you were 17."
"You don't think I've aged at all?"
"It's hard to tell. I've never been away long enough to notice a difference. What about me? Do I look older?" I batted my eyelashes.
He chuckled at my brazen show. "You look 23 to me."
*
I got a call from Jackson Ferrera a week after my birthday. I didn't know who he was and almost didn't answer the call when it rang at 10:30 AM, still in bed. Alex had left an hour or two earlier, kissing my forehead and unintentionally waking me up. We mumbled, "Bye, baby" to one another before he left and I drifted back to sleep.
I was in the shower when Alex returned home. It was somewhere around 5 PM and a Wednesday and I hadn't left the house once. I was in the middle of washing my hair when I heard the bathroom door open and my worries about this becoming a scene from Psycho dissipated when Alex said, "Hey, honey." Isn't it cute? We call each other honey now. It originated from Opal. We imitated her calling everyone "honey" with one another until we actually just ended up calling each other "honey" all the time.
"Hey," I called out over the shower. Alex discarded his clothes and joined me in the shower. We had started doing that more often too. We didn't often have sex in the shower either. I mean, it did happen, but we decided to shower together more in a chaste quality. Alex has the ability to wash your hair in the same way it feels at a salon. It's complete bliss. "How was your day?"
He was my little dog with his long hair getting wet in the shower and sticking to his face. He let the water run over it completely before pushing it back and out of his face. "Good. Fine," he answered. "I feel like I've been hunched over all day." He pecked my lips, a domestic greeting.
I reached down for my conditioner and told him, "I'll rub your back before bed." We might as well be the old married couple with aching backs and a stay-at-home woman willing to soothe them. I don't like to view us as old-fashioned. We were unconventional. British desert Californians, who were a musician and a pretend writer.
Alex took the bottle out of my hand, taking the conditioner into his hands, acting his role of hair masseuse. "You're my savior. I'd have a humpback if it weren't for you."
I shrugged as I turned for him to rub the product in my hair. "I like taking care of you. Shall I have dinner on the table too?"
He scoffed, "God, no. I'd be dead of food poisoning if you did that."
I laughed because I wasn't offended by not having any cooking skills. Alex understood that and has never forced a change on that. "You can't blame me. My parents don't know how to cook either."
"Your parents don't know how to do a lot of things you can do. Excuses, excuses." He clicked his tongue and I giggled as he squeezed one of my butt cheeks. "What did you get up to while I was gone?"
I sighed, turning back around to face him, a big smile plastered on my face. "Okay, well, don't freak out because I don't know anything yet."
Alex immediately grabbed my hands, nearing a panic. "What?"
I pushed his hands down. "Calm down," I instructed. "It's not that big of a deal." He relaxed and awaited an answer. "So, I got this call from someone Opal knows. A guy named Jackson Ferrera—"
"Oh, god, Janie, you're leaving me, aren't you?" Alex joked, turning his head away in dramatics, pushing me away, unable to bear the sight of me. "I always knew it."
I slapped his arms away. "Will you shut up? Listen." He looked at me normally and nodded his head. "Opal gave him some of my writing and he's this literary agent and he wants to talk about maybe him representing me—"
I was interrupted by Alex's excitement. "Are you serious? Like a book or something?"
I was reluctant to say anything, not wanting to get his hopes up, my hopes up like speaking it aloud would cancel out any possibilities. "I don't know yet. I haven't even met the guy yet."
"But you're going to?" Alex clutched my waist, his grip filled with giddiness.
I nodded, trying to fight this big smile. "This Friday at noon. And I don't know what it would be yet. He could just recommend me for some stupid literary agent job."
Alex quickly shook his head. "No way, Janie. You're going to make a book."
"I'm not going to make a book," I insisted.
But he fought back, confident as always, "You're going to make a book."
"Don't jinx anything. He might just help me submit some of my pieces to some higher-up magazines. Who knows, by the end of the year, I could be in the New Yorker?"
He scoffed, "You're better than the New Yorker. They'll be begging for your work."
I bumped into him. "Don't say that. I'd love to write for the New Yorker. I'd be happy writing for Playboy at this point."
Alex wiggled his eyebrows. "They do have some really good articles."
I pinched his side and told him to shut it. He wrapped me up in a hug and a dramatic rain—well, shower—kiss. Everything felt like it was landing in place and California did really seem to be a place where dreams came true and all that nonsense that I'll make fun of for the rest of this book but for this one moment, I'll believe to be true. Then, Alex got shampoo in his eye.
"Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck." He clutched his left eye and doubled over. The water and shampoo suds still pouring down his face.
I grabbed his shoulder and asked if he was okay. He insisted on being fine but his hand remained on his eye and he grinded his teeth down before I managed to pull him out of the shower without tripping.
I sat him on the toilet seat, dripping wet, and shampoo still a mess in his hair. "Let me see," I said, drying his face off.
He waved me off. "No, no, I'm fine." His hand remained on his eye with a refusal to remove it.
"Al," I said and tugged at his wrist. He dropped his hand and slowly opened his eye, bloodshot and pink. "Oh, Jesus."
"What? Did it fall out?" He joked.
I snorted a laugh and began searching for eye drops. "It's dried up, that's all."
Then came the struggle of actually getting the eye drops into Alex's eye because he refused to keep his eye open. He kept muttering, "Ow, ow, ow" as each eye drop flooded his eyeball.
Later that night, after I fell asleep in front of American Idol, Alex must have moved me to our bedroom or I slept-walked there. Alex said I did that a few times. When I woke, the red digital clock on my bedside read 2:32 AM. I dug my face into the pillow, pissed I had woken up in the middle of the night. I turned my head and came to the realization Alex was missing if he was ever in bed, to begin with.
I padded across our cold wooden floors barefoot in the dark before I saw the back patio light on and the faint shadow of Alex. I stepped one foot out and saw him, notebook in lap, cigarette in hand, gazing out onto the dark backyard, deep in thought.
"You shouldn't be smoking with your eye," I said hoarsely.
His head tilted back to look at me and he had a soft smirk on his face. "I'll live. Just needed something to relax."
"Take an edible then."
He vibrated off laughter and tapped the ash off his cigarette. "I'll find a different excuse."
I kept one foot outside and one inside, asking, "Do you want some company?"
He shook his head, insisting, "No, no. You sleep."
I was hesitant to move. "You sure?"
Alex nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Just finishing up some writing. I'll be in soon."
"Okay."
I returned to bed and fell asleep before Alex came back but when I woke up in the late morning he was asleep beside me. I wondered what Alex wrote. The beginning verses to "Stuck on the Puzzle" or if he never picked up his pen to begin with? Maybe I read too much into it but Alex never had qualms about me keeping him company while he wrote and our late-night smokes were ritualistic at that point. I believed he thought about something else. Me. Something too personal to share.
With both of us, those secrets that we kept from one another were exclusively worries. I can't help but think Alex knew what was eventually to come from my contact with Jackson. I can't help but think he worried. He always worried, suffering in silence. I screamed about everything and he sat with it, let it stir and brew for days, months, years. It was a habit of our 20s. But Alex always seemed to know, a habitual psychic and I was the palm in his hand.
*
It didn't end up being a book, not at first, but we did a trial period in which I submitted to Jackson who began shopping my pieces around to publishers. I was terrified and didn't tell anyone other than Alex and Opal for fear it would fall through and fail. Jackson felt confident and I supposed that helped, although I couldn't comprehend a world where I wrote a book, even though, for years, I had already written books in my notebook.
I tried not to think about it much. We were coming up on Alex going back on tour again and the question of whether to stay in LA rose, which was really just whether I would. I didn't like the thought of being in LA without Alex. I found the city rather unappealing but I didn't know where I'd return to. London was an option but I don't know how at home I would've felt there. It's cheesy to say Alex is my home because he's a person and I found that statement to be rather exaggerated. In those days, I just felt more comfortable wherever he was, maybe because I was so aimless myself, but I knew that I finally found a direction to go in.
One of my pieces did end up in The Village Voice. Alex paid to have a print copy sent, and he framed it. It embarrassed me so much that I stuffed it into drawers when we had guests over.
One night, we went to a party on some random Monday and sat on the uncomfortable fancy chairs, drinking cocktails. Alex had an Old Fashioned, I had a Cosmopolitan. It was an affair with some elegance, though I can't remember what it was actually for. We both vowed not to get drunk because we couldn't be hungover on a Tuesday.
I had my hand on Alex's knee and he had his arm around the back of my chair. I think the dinner they served was chicken but I don't remember. It wasn't very good either way.
"Do you think I should get my Master's?" I asked Alex.
He sipped his drink with his left hand and lightly tapped my shoulder with his right. "Why would you do that?"
I shrugged and picked up my Cosmo, trying to be Carrie Bradshaw in hopes it would get me a job as luxurious as hers. Or maybe just the clothes and the apartment. "Something to do. I like the idea of going to school here."
Alex's brows furrowed as he looked over at me. "But you hated school."
"That's not true."
He chuckled. "J, you complained about it all the time."
Maybe I did. I don't remember. It's like when people have babies and they forget how hard labour was so their bodies trick them into having more kids. "I liked the structure of it. Plus, a Master's would allow a more flexible schedule and you'll be away on tour soon so it'd be something to do."
Alex shook his head. "I don't think you'd like it."
I frowned. "Maybe I would."
"I mean..." Alex searched for what to say. "I just think you're getting somewhere with your writing and you're running away from it."
I rested my head on my hand. "Maybe."
Alex reached out and pushed my hair out of my face. "Whatever you do you'll be great at. Just do what you love, okay?"
His smirk put me on edge and I raised my eyebrow. "What? Like you?"
"Huh?" His face looked puzzled, worried that he had offended me somehow.
"I love you so you want me to do you?"
He threw his head back in laughter. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Janie."
*
The whole Master's idea felt foolish. So, I decided to do it, except it was March and way past the time for applications. In the meantime, I tried to figure out what I would do while Alex was away. I felt I should have wanted to leave Los Angeles after all my bitching and moaning, but something drew me to stay. There was a new friend in Opal but I didn't have any job prospects through her or Jackson. Freelance could fit but I didn't want it to fit. The idea of me writing a book burrowed more inwardly to my mind as Jackson stopped mentioning book deals and directed me more toward staff writing jobs to get my name out there.
But I felt that LA had wrapped its warmth around me and suffocated me long enough to want to stay. I liked America and I liked the city, but I also had a visa to worry about. I was over on a tourist Visa and since all work I had done was freelance, I was paid as if I was located in England still. I could fly back and stay for another 180 days or I could get a work visa, which meant getting a job.
That's when Condé Nast appeared. Jackson had unofficially become my unpaid job seeker, doing it solely for me as a favour. I suspected he felt bad for not achieving a book deal and decided to help me out. The Condé Nast position was for a product writer and reviewer. The issue was I had no history with a full-time writing job, but either Jackson had connections or they felt pity for me, too, so I got the job.
So, it wasn't LA, it would be New York.
Alex loved the idea and boasted about it to everyone, kissing my cheek after each statement, and squeezing me to his side. As for New York, he simply said, "It's your turn."
He would be away on tour anyway, so it didn't matter much other than that he would crash at whatever housing I picked in New York. We flew to New York in June. I had never been to New York in the summer. I had never been with Alex in New York.
Usually on our excursions, I dragged Alex around the town and up the hills. In New York, Alex dragged me to the Strand, Chelsea Hotel, the Mudd Club, the Transit Museum, and, most importantly, the turtle pond in Central Park.
Beside the box turtles and red-eared sliders, Alex and I rested against a rock as they padded their way shoreside. He wore a baby blue shirt and picked at his jeans, his mannerisms the same as when I spotted him across the room. "Do you remember when you used to have writing on your jeans?"
He looked up at me, smiling, pushing his hair behind his ears, pounds of fluff. "Yeah."
"What was written on them?" Those blurs of red markings and my wish to know those depths of his soul as if what he was really thinking was written on the knees of his jeans.
He shrugged and almost shamefully said, "Just song lyrics. Strokes and stuff."
"You wrote on them?"
"Yeah."
"I always figured that your mates had written on them. My Converses used to be covered in Joanie's handwriting and hearts." I hadn't thought of her for a long time. Nothing in America reminded me of Wakefield and so Joanie never came to mind.
Alex broke me out of my thoughts, asking, "Can I write on your trainers?"
I raised my eyebrows. "On my new shoes? Can I write on your jeans?"
"Sure." He pulled a pen from his pocket and handed it to me. His quickness made me hesitate but I pulled the pen from his fingers and thought of what to write. I could've drawn a penis but I wasn't that cruel. The black pen was faint against the dark blue denim but I repeated my sketching until the letter was clear enough. I wrote my name because I couldn't think of anything else. What's more beautiful than a person's name? Gross.
Alex seemed to like it, a grin upturning on his face, and an eyebrow raised against me. "Why don't you draw a heart around it?"
I rolled my eyes. "Do you want me to put an arrow through it too?"
He laughed but said, "Sure." I didn't add the heart or arrow. It would be too cheesy and ruin my beautiful cursive name. I returned the pen to him and he tapped his hand over the writing. "With me every step of the way."
I giggled, both embarrassed and charmed. "You gonna get it tattooed?"
I joked but he took it shockingly seriously. "Do you want me to?"
I bolded my eyes and tilted my head. "Stop," I chastised him. "I'm not trying to brand you. I won't even let you write on my shoes and you're willing to get me permanently on your body?"
"Those are nice shoes," he countered.
"You've got a nice body," I argued.
"It'll add to it."
Whether it was sweetness or idiocy, it did feel like love. I raised my legs and plopped my feet in his lap. "Alright. Write away on them then." They were just trainers anyway and his name in a heart with an arrow through it was worth much more.
Afterwards, we toured an apartment. Previous apartments we had toured had been far above my expected salary. Alex had this need to contribute to the apartment's rent despite not getting a break from touring until late October. I had a need to pay rent for myself. I never lived on my own and I felt this apartment should be my apartment, even though Alex's stuff would be there. 
Alex understood all of this, although still pushed to contribute some to the rent and, well, I'm never one to deny financial assistance so we made a deal that he would pay me for storing his stuff while he was gone and I would pay for the rest. This all meant those apartments next to Central Park were out of the question. So, we headed downtown, Petula Clark style. 
"You know, this area is called SoHo too?" I asked him as we walked down Thompson Street. He shook his head and I explained, "It's because it's south of Houston Street. So. Ho."
He chuckled and nodded. "It'll be like a little piece of home with you."
It turned out to be. I found a place on Prince Street for a reasonable amount. 1 bed. 1 bath. Windows that drenched the floors in sunlight, a big closet, and—the thing I was most excited for—a bathtub.
On our first night there, Alex and I attempted to do the romantic having-a-bath-together thing. I purchased a bubble bath solution from Target and Alex got a bottle of wine from Wine and Spirits. We felt very American in both stores. 
"I can't remember the last time I took a bath," Alex said as he sank into the warm oasis.
"They used to just spray you down with a hose, right?" I joked as I sipped on my wine.
Alex cupped his hand in the water and sent a splash my way. "Hey! You got water on the floor. And in my wine." I frowned at the bubbles resting on the surface of the wine.
"I'll get you another glass," he said as he stood.
I reached out and grabbed his leg. "Don't leave."
At my request, he sank back into the water. "Here. You can have mine." He stuck out his half-full glass. I leaned forward and kissed the back of the hand that was holding it. My version of thank you as I took the glass from his hand. 
He stretched his legs out and we kept poking each other until I took Alex's feet into my lap. I lightly rubbed on the left one, his big toe sticking out above the water. I felt sinking in myself and refused to look at him. I was becoming too soft. "I'm gonna miss you."
Alex sighed. I knew he hurt more than me. I missed him and we loved each other the same but I knew he had to deal with two kinds of pain. His and mine. We had to deal with missing each other and he had to deal with the guilt. I always told him it was ridiculous to feel guilty because I never held any resentment toward him for going away. But I guess we never properly addressed all that ugly stuff from the past, only in fights, and we never concluded properly, just in exhaustion.
But I think we both knew that communication would be the difference this time. The band was more established. I was more established. I think I would have hated being alone in our LA house without Alex but something about New York, feeling it was mine, made me feel a little freer.
"I'm sorry," he said.
I shook my head. "Don't apologize. I'm proud of you."
"Proud of you too." I looked up to see the big smile on his face. You know, it heals anything.
I slide deeper into the tub, the water covering my neck. I was bare-skinned and my insides were beginning to feel the same. "I'm nervous."
"We'll be fine," he assured.
I shook my head. "I know. I'm nervous for me. Being alone and the new job."
His hand found my leg in the water, stroking it. "You'll make friends in no time and you're a whiz."
"But what if I hate it?" I sounded wobbly like I was about to tip off the edge.
Alex, the calm force dragging me through life, said, "Then, on to the next thing."
I held a smile to him. One he returned. "My mother would say I'm being picky."
"Your mother who drinks for a living?"
I held offence when Alex spoke of my mother. The things he said were true but my whole life I’ll feel the need to protect her. At that age, I still felt destined to unknowingly become her. In that way, Alex was insulting future me. "Hey! She does other things. Probably."
Alex laughed and pulled his feet from me, curling his legs. "Alright. I'm cramping here." He rose from the tub, swishing the water around, peeking at the edges.
I gasped. "Even if the foot rub I gave you?"
We moved out of LA pretty quickly but yet again transporting all your belongings from one side of the country to another was a pain. We enlisted the help of friends but in New York, we were on our own for the most part, other than some hired movers. We weren't getting that couch up the stairs.
The band did a few festivals in Europe in July before returning for a New York show at the beginning of August. I was only a few weeks into my job and it was the fulfillment and structure I needed, although I wasn't doing much writing. I was fine with working my way up, setting an achievement, and moving forward. It was a mostly new idea for me.
After their concert, we did the ritual of bar hopping. I invited my new friend, Tasha, and her boyfriend to join us, however, her boyfriend ditched her after the show, which led her to get very drunk and weepy and therefore pulled me away from any time of catching up with the group. Although, they seemed very consumed by the drama.
"I don't mean to put this all on you," she cried to me. "But he said he was gonna buy me a drink tonight and I—" she was taking away into sobs.
"I'll buy you a drink," Matt offered.
"Really?" It was in fact her fifth drink. She had quickly consumed the first 2 from the rounds and pulled the other 2 from me. "I really liked him, you know. I love him, I think."
"We know, sweetie." I felt bad for her but all the crying was becoming quite tiresome, especially with a girl you had only known 2 weeks in the setting of an office space.
She sat up straight, wiping away that wetness on her face when Matt arrived back with a drink. For the time being, she calmed her waterworks with a gulp of liquor. "You wouldn't do this to Jane, would you Alex? Why can't I find a guy like that?"
I chuckled, "Alex ditches me all the time."
To the side of me, Alex's head snapped to me. "What?" His face was etched with a furrowed brow and a frown.
I turned to him wide-eyed and confused. "What?"
"I don't ditch you."
My mouth created a slight opening in bafflement. "Yeah, you do. Or did." I turned back to Tasha. "Either way, they're all assholes, you just have to find the asshole that fights you."
"Ha. Asshole." Jamie laughed.
While Jamie found humour in the situation and Tasha found slight comfort, Alex found offense. "You think I'm an asshole?"
I turned back to him. "Yeah. Don't you think I'm a bitch?"
His eyes were wide at the word like we were kids taught to put coins in the swear job. His response was quick. "No."
I tried my best to give it to him in an explanation that would placate him. "Okay. Well, I get on your nerves or whatever. Either way, you just have to find the guy that fits you. Now, I think we should get you a cab." Tasha nodded with a sniffle. 
After I stuck Tasha in a cab, I stayed outside to have a cigarette. I had a weird feeling in my stomach that I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or something emotional. I had a rash on my left leg that I labelled as being from stress but I wasn't sure what it was stress from. I felt a pressure on my chest and the perfect solution was a cigarette.
It wasn't a smoke signal for Alex to join me although I should have thought that considering our history and the perfect view from our table out the window to the street. He came out halfway through the ash and walked with hair in his face and hands in his pockets.
When he stepped in front of me, I reached out and brushed his hair out of his face and wondered if he felt this way—this feeling of caring, uncovering someone for your gaze—every time he did it for me. I tucked it behind his ear and peeked the small smile underneath that shaggy head. It tickled me, exposing a silent laugh from my lips. 
"You really think I'm an asshole?" He asked. His tone was playful but I knew he was worried I considered him to be one of them. That breed of man who brushed women off after they got their goods as if he hadn't loved and cared for me since the moment we met.
I held my palm over his cheek, holding my hand over his fire, rubbing the lobe of his ear. I just wanted to hold him forever and I felt like crying at the thought I couldn't. I don't know where the sudden emotion came from but I suppose by this point it isn't shocking to find myself crying, especially after 3 drinks outside a bar. I couldn't speak so I shook my head and kept the overwhelming pathos at bay by the rhythmic stroking of his ear. 
"I missed you," he said.
I cut any further words he had off with a shake of my head, a dismissiveness I needed. "I don't want to talk about missing each other anymore." The gates fell and I dropped my arm away from his shoulder, picking at my nails as my voice quivered. "All I talk about is missing you."
"Jane."
Exasperated with myself, I shook my head and looked away not to cry. "I just want to enjoy the night." I looked at him, listening attentively, eyes trained on me. "I don't want to think about you leaving tomorrow night and I'm fine, trust me, but I feel this ache all the time and I don't want to feel this ache while you're here and I don't want to talk about this ache because I know it's mutual so let's stop talking about it and pretend that this is just any other night in our lives and we're in Sheffield, grabbing a pint with our mates or something." 
I laughed wetly. He reached out to me and brushed my hair behind my ear and it made everything feel alright. "This feels pretty Sheffield, doesn't it?"
"What?"
He shrugged and took out his pack of cigarettes, plucking one, and placing it in between his lips. "Light me up, Janie, would ya?"
A smile tugged my lips and I dug into my purse one-handed for my lighter. He leaned forward, the end of it so close to me I could take a bite of it. I lit the flame between us and then to his cigarette. He took a puff before stepping back to exhale, his eyes stuck with mine. 
"I love you. I feel like we don't say that enough," I told him. He stood away from me but I felt so close to him like we had wrapped ourselves up in a fort of blankets, not standing in the humid August streets. 
"You don't have to say it for me to know it. Hasn't that always been our MO?" In wordless whispers and those longing stares, we had always spoken with some underlying language that didn't even make perfect sense to us, it was just there. 
"Yeah. Still, I want to remind you."
He chuckled and stepped closer, hooking his arm around my neck, and pulled me beneath his chin with a long gaze down at me. "I love you too, Janie. And all the rest."
"The rest?" I questioned.
His Adam's apple bopped and he looked up at the sky for a moment as if God was giving him the all-clear. His eyes reintroduced themselves to me. "There's this weight of love inside me that I'll never be able to express to you. It's just there, a consuming being that flares up whenever you're near me or I think about you. It's this constant. I've had it since I thought your name was Jeanie and I still don't know how to talk about it or what to call it—all this unexpressed love."
"It seems like you did." I tried not to sob. I thought of Tasha, likely crying in a cab, and I know I've always been a fortunate girl and I've been called lucky since birth, but I never felt like I truly won anything other than meaningless games until I was brought to Alex. I thought of all those missteps I could have taken to have never met Alex about how many things had to go a certain way for me to be at that first gig. How—I guess—I have to thank Matt, although that part is reluctant for me to say (a fear it will go to his head). But I kept it all inside and didn't tell Alex this because I think this is part of that weight of love I still can't fully express. "Are you sure it's not a tumor?"
He laughed at me and kissed the top of my head. My cigarette had been scuffed out against his jeans so we shared the rest of his before Alex suggested, "I think we should head home." I had never confessed how romantic I thought the idea of going home with Alex was to me but I have a feeling he just knew because he always just knows.
He took me by the hand and took me back inside the bar where we said goodbye to our party of people and I smacked a kiss on the cheek to each of them. They've always felt like brothers-in-law to me but I found as we grew older and closer, they were my friends too.
We headed back to our apartment, taking the A train. Alex held my purse for me and we sat in a sweaty, non-air-conditioned subway car, and it felt as though we were in London on the tube, praying for a gust of wind to come in through the little window and provide momentary relief. 
It was too hot to touch each other's skin so we held a small space between us and knocked knees with one another. Alex sat hunched over, his hands sitting on the top knee of his crossed legs. I leaned back against the plastic orange chair. The train was mostly empty but we filled its quietness with laughter. Halfway through the ride, that sentimental fuzzy part of me took a picture of him. I still owned a flip phone for the sole purpose of having a slideout keyboard, not known for having a good camera, and the photo was mostly unrecognizable to anybody but me, which might be why I liked it so much. 
I’d take these photos often and flip through them occasionally when I was waiting for the subway. I printed some out and pinned them on the walls because I didn’t want to buy picture frames. I folded one up and put it in my wallet because I always loved that Alex had a photo of me in his wallet—a tiny crushed-up photo of my graduation portrait, ugly, but he had pride for it and me).
Without Alex, the apartment had succumbed to my mess. There were clothes tossed in the corner of the bedroom, the desk was covered in papers, books, and more clothes, and the kitchen was dealing with a major dishes problem.
The hour was late but we were both determined to soak up as much time with one another as possible. We undressed from the day and dressed for bed, but sat on the edge of our bed over the covers, talking, talking, talking. Two frogs croaking at one another from across the pond. All we needed was Charlton Brook and we'd be our old selves again. 
"I never thought I'd like work. I'm not in love with this job but I come home and my feet ache and I love it. I like feeling I worked for something," I told him. "I think I need firm direction in my life otherwise I turn into a mess."
Alex looked pleased but all-knowing. He knew all these parts of me before I did. "You were raised without it so you crave it in other aspects." He leaned back on the bed, putting his arms behind his head, so casual in every sense of the word.
"Who needs a therapist when I have you?" I asked. He laughed but I was serious (both good and bad). He's an observer, he just knows these things from one look at you. He reads you completely and then acts like it's nothing. I feel I know Alex well, better than anyone, but not like he knows me. I've always felt there was a piece of Alex that was off-limits to everyone, even himself sometimes. There's a corner of him I will never reach. For him, my thoughts have always been a nude model on full stark display.
Alex turned onto his side and reached a hand over to me, clasping it with a tight squeeze. "You happy?" It was a quick check-in, the reassurance he needed that he wouldn't leave me totally screwed up and alone. Alex often had the feeling of needing to "rescue me," which was partially true but he took too much on sometimes, bearing the weight of both our emotional states, an overwhelming thing that put so much consequence on the question he asked like I wasn't just answering for me, I was also answering for him.
I squeezed back to ease his anxieties. "Yeah. You?" He stayed silent and looked around the room once, startling my heart. He tugged on my arm once as a smirk spread on his face. "What?" 
He tugged again, this time harder. I stared at him quizzically until he pulled once again, yanking me down to lay on top of him. He communicated with his lips, both silent minus gasps. He turned us, hovering over me, flat on my back. We got under the covers.
*
The following night we stayed in and ordered a pizza before having sex on the couch. After, I laid on Alex's chest, our nude bodies up against each other and I do apologize to anybody who sat on the couch after, I swear it wasn't that dirty. His hands were solid on my back, studying the lower curve of my spine, hitting a spot that made me stretch like a cat after a nap.
I sighed as the tension released from my back and laid back down on his sternum. "We're awfully vanilla," I said.
Alex snorted this big ugly snort of laughter that I find so cute like a baby learning how to breathe. "What, like chains and whips?"
I laughed and raised my head up, my chin pressed on his skin, staring up at his tucked head, awkwardly propped up on the armrest. "No. Georgia just told me this story about doing it on the roof of her building."
An amused Alex asked, "You want to head up on our roof now?"
He motioned sitting up but I pushed him back down. "We have an exposed roof. I'm not getting the cops called on us."
"Where's the fun in that if there isn't a little risk of indecent exposure?" He joked.
I giggled and thought of making a joke about getting visas revoked for public nudity, instead, I told him, "We're hiding tonight. Besides, I don't need all that for sex to be fun with you."
He bucked his hips up against mine. "'Cause I'm so good in bed?" He raised an eyebrow and wore a taunting smirk that made me want to slap and kiss him. How infuriating to be so intoxicated by him.
"'Cause you love me," I teased, tapping his nose. I slobbered a kiss on his cheek, which made him groan in disgust like it was his mother doing it in front of all his friends. "And you're going to take me to get ice cream because I'm thinking about vanilla ice cream now."
"From Morgenstern's?" He asked me, even though he knew the answer.
I sat up from him, noting his eyes on my exposed breasts (sometimes, it's nice to know a man is still a boy), and hummed, "Yes, sir." Morgenstern's sat two blocks up on Houston and in the past few months, I had developed an addiction to their bourbon vanilla ice cream and considered it my special treat after a day of work. Alex was partial to salted chocolate, which I always thought was a good balance with mine, especially since he'd let me steal scoops off his cone and mix it with my cup of ice cream.
Alex went out in jeans, a T-shirt, and his Doctor Martens. I went out in sweatpants, a camisole, and my flip-flops. It was 11:40 and only 2 blocks away! 
I was charged up and kissed him behind his ear as he paid for the ice cream. We must have been foul to look at with our hair unbrushed and a careless woman hanging off her good-looking man. I often had little care about how I looked at night in New York. Everyone in New York, one way or another, was loathsome to watch at night so I had no problem with the idea the cashier might have hated us for coming in right before closing, dangling around as we waited. Besides, Alex left a tip.
My hands clawed around Alex's shoulders and I bounced on the balls of my feet as they scooped our ice cream. We ate our ice cream on the small bench they had outside the parlour. Alex ended up with smears of chocolate on the corners of his lips. It was pleasurable to see him so untidy, it would make you laugh and kiss his lips, transferring some of the residue onto you like lipstick.
Alex chased me up the stairs of our apartment building with the menace of pinching my ass to coerce squeals out of me. We caused a ruckus, loud off of our sugar high, but, at the very least, not stumbling drunk up the stairs like some of my other neighbors. Alex caught me at the apartment door. I had no escape, he had the keys. He cornered me and gave a hard pinch working his way up from my butt to my stomach where I was ticklish.
"Mercy! Mercy!" I surrendered. He called off his attack, ready to head inside for some explicitness. 
He put the key in, turned it, and then it snapped. He held the bow, the shaft lodged in the lock. "Fuck," he cursed.
Panic set in as Alex fiddled with the doorknob with no luck. "Fuck. Are we locked out?" I asked.
He picked at the lock, muttering, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." 
It soon became clear that we were stuck. It was nearing 1 AM, I desperately had to pee, and Alex had to leave in 6 hours. "Can we kick the door in?"
"Are you suggesting either of us is strong enough to break the deadbolt?" Alex stood up straight, tossing his head back in exhaustion.
I shrugged. "I don't know. You're pretty fit." He was proper chuffed by this, a slight puff in his chest. "I could try."
"With your flip-flops?" They were the cheap kind. I bought them at 5 Below. "If we break the door the whole building can walk in."
Not knowing the number of any emergency locksmiths, I called 911 and waited at the bottom two steps of the staircase facing the front door. "I guess this is what I get for eating too much ice cream," I quipped.
"No such thing," Alex excused. 
Shrouded in quietness and a reputation of lacking patience, I laid my head on Alex's shoulder and would have fallen asleep if my bladder wasn't prepared to burst. Alex tapped a beat on the denim-covered knee and we didn't talk, just stayed close, two beings huddled together for survival and companionship.
Firefighters came and had no luck removing the broken key so they busted into the apartment. We couldn't lock it but we could at least close it. I rushed in for the bathroom. I laid down on our bed and waited for Alex while he used the bathroom. I fell asleep before he returned.
In the morning, Alex nudged me awake. He was fully dressed and by the light stumbling in through the window, I knew what it meant. "I fell asleep. Why'd you let me?"
"Figured if you fell asleep while I was in the bathroom you were pretty tired." Over the covers, flip flops kicked off the edge of the bed, in the two minutes he was away.
"'Kay." I was still fiddling out of sleep when Alex tapped my arm, an insisting action to make me stay in bed. "Let me walk you out."
"No, stay in bed, it's fine." He kneeled beside the bed, forcing my hand.
"You sure?"
He nodded. "I'll see you in a little. Yeah?" He kept it short. It was the easier way.
I rubbed my eye, knowing I wouldn't be going back to sleep as much as Alex hoped I would. "Yeah. I'll try to get off sometime in September."
"Don't feel pressured. I'll see you in Philly, right?" That would be over a month away, 30th of September.
I nodded because it was easier than speaking. "Call me when you get to Boston."
He donned an assuring smile, leaned down, and kissed me. He left and I made myself a cup of coffee and drank it and sat with silence.
*
On a Wednesday, after a day of work, I took the train down to Philadelphia. I had never been before and part of me wanted to enjoy all the tourist things about it but I had limited time between 30th Street Station and heading to the Electric Factory. 
However, I made a pit stop along the way, getting off the subway, and meeting Alex at the Reading Terminal Market for a late lunch/early dinner. It wasn't the Art Museum or Independence Hall but it allowed a cultural indulgence of the city. 
Alex wore a jean jacket and didn't look like a man about to front a sold-out show. We bumped shoulders with passersby as we made our way through the narrow passageways. Alex got a cheesesteak, which I found disgusting. I ate a soft pretzel and assorted candy from a Pennsylvania Dutch candy shoppe.
We managed to find a table wedged between dad with his two kids and a group of high schoolers. Safe to say, we had trouble hearing each other over the chaos but we communicated through shared observations, reacting with a stare at one another as the father began to yell at his son or a laugh at the high schoolers mocking one of their teachers.
We hadn't really spoken until we left the building, stepping out into the beginnings of a crisp autumn evening. Alex bought me ice cream from Bassetts (as if I needed more sugar) and gave the change to a group of busking drummers by the door. 
I grabbed Alex's attention at a stoplight as I dragged out, "So..." 
He chuckled at my solicitation, dragging out his own, "So..."
The light turned green and we stayed in step with one another. I initiated the conversation but I had no follow-up for my So-ing. Sometimes, I just wanted to look at him but walking and staring is a difficult practice. "One of my pieces is going to be in this magazine n+1. Something I wrote back in LA, Jackson submitted forever ago."
"Is it going to be printed?" He asked.
"Yeah, but I think you can read it online."
Quickly, he shook his head. "I want the physical thing."
I laughed. "Always one for physical media, Al." It was clear with the record collection I was storing in a small New York apartment. You had transferred this habit onto me as I went out to purchase the New York Times from a street kiosk instead of reading it online.
"It'll be easier. I can read it on a plane, on the bus, on the toilet."
I hit his shoulder light-heartedly. "Alright, I'll get you the print."
*
At the end of October, Alex returned from Tokyo for a small tour break. We fell into a cycle similar to that of our London days. I went to work, Alex stayed home. We went out to dinner sometimes, and we occasionally went out for drinks with my work friends, but more often, we just stayed home. It was a cocoon and I think we both preferred to stay still with one another after distant months apart.
I drank coffee in bed one morning, a Saturday or Sunday with no rush for any obligations, fine with retiring to a day in our shoebox. We were both still in our pajamas. Alex sat on the edge of the bed, facing me, strumming his guitar. I was on my laptop, scrolling through someone's blog, but mostly watching him.
These unguarded moments with his head slumped over his guitar. His hair covered his face almost completely, only able to distinguish his nose from the rest of him. The ends of his hair held these perfect curls that I envied. He's been perceived to be a cool, uncaring person but I've found Alex, especially during these early years, held such a concern about coming off a certain way, whether considered cold or cool. A long-held hatred for unwanted watching, even from me.
His muscles had suspended into relaxation finally. I found he acquired this rest most often with a guitar. He held a light strum, sometimes humming along, sometimes writing a note in his little notebook.
I thought I was catching an unaware Alex working away, much like our first year of knowing each other. Then, he looked up and said, "If you're going to stare at me, you might as well help me." He tossed me his notebook with dashes and scratches that to the untrained eye looked like a chicken scratch of nothing.
I read it and this time I could feel him watching me. I poured over the words as he had done with his writing and when I finished I said, "I feel so inadequate next to you."
"Shut up," he insisted, both through his support of me and his own insecurity.
"It's a beautiful song." I handed the notebook back to him. "A very beautiful love song." I crossed my arms, smiling at him.
"Well, you know."
"Yeah." Because I always did. This loving, hideous, unspoken language of ours.
 "Good inspiration. You gave me the title." Alex took months of crafting before giving something exposure, like formulating a fine wine. 
"Well, you wrote the rest of it," I reasoned. "Is it for the new album?"
He shrugged and examined his own work. "I don't think so. Maybe just for you and me."
*
a/n: this is pretty much for goblinontour. the next parts will come much sooner, we're approaching the thick of it... oh, and if you see any mistakes, no you didn’t.
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gretavanmoon · 1 day ago
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A Perfect Ten - Part 3
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Josh x Female reader
13.5k words
+ After befriending your coworker Josh at your new workplace, the both of you realize you need each other in more ways than one. Things might get a little cloudy as an ongoing judge of actions takes place, leaving the both of you wrapped up in a back and forth neither of you saw coming
Warnings: Mention of Drinking, Cursing, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Sadness, Lying, Fluff. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Dirty Talk, Praise, Flirting, Oral F!receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.
A/N: Thanks for sticking it out to the end! I appreciate everyone's interest in this, and all of your kind messages of encouragement! This was such a fun little story to explore, and I hope you love the conclusion :)
Five weeks. 
It’d been over five long, hard, confusing, delicious weeks of Josh wrapping himself up in you, and you in him, the both of you using the other for paramount physical satisfaction that wasn’t comparable to any other partner either of you had ever had. Not every night had been spent together, but more often than not, you found yourself waking up to him bringing you a mug of coffee in bed before he scurried off to the shower to get ready for the day. 
Since neither of you ever had to be at work until around 11AM, you never overstayed your welcome, making your way out of his bed and out the door before you could finish off the last few drops. You never hung around, but then again, he never asked you to. 
That promise he made you on his porch that night as his fingers were buried deep inside you was yet to be fulfilled, though… each of you switching off coming up with some excuse to not go all the way. You’d been burdened with a plethora of intertwined and overlapping thoughts, most of them so intense that you would daze out during the day, tuning out your customers’ orders as they ran them off to you. Your mind felt as if it was a mess of tangled wires, each one connected to something different or not connected to anything at all as you tried your damndest to sort through them, unwinding a few at a time only for them to tangle and jumble up again. 
You liked Josh. Actually, you really liked him. 
But though the two of you have ravished each other’s bodies in nearly every single way but the one that you yearned for most, you still can’t bring yourself to ask him why. Why he won’t show his feelings toward you in what you consider the most important way there is. 
“We’re friends, Y/N, nothing more…”
His words still rang in the back of your head, and you’d been fighting off your mental demons of pure desperation since he said them. Though, you repeat the same ones back to him all the time. It was only weeks ago that Josh told you that he was having a harder and harder time telling you no, and you wondered if you outright asked him to love you in the way that you wanted, maybe he would. 
But, you didn’t want to do anything that he didn’t want to do, and you didn’t want to give yourself to him in a way in which he wouldn’t want you. It hurt, it truly did, but you’d used the excuse of if he wanted to, he would to make yourself feel better for far too long, now. 
Honestly, you were starting to get kind of pissed. The sexual frustration had begun to weigh on your needs. Neither of you had ever really discussed being exclusive, even if it was just a friends with benefits type situation, but then again you never saw or heard any evidence of him hooking up with anyone else. So, you played the cards as they lied.  
Some nights, after one too many after-work drinks at the bar, you’d muster up the courage to ask him, but you always fell short, bargaining that any attention from him was better than none… So you’d cut your losses and let him walk you back to his place, dancing in the kitchen with one another until, inevitably, your clothes were tumbling to the floor yet again, and the escapades would ensue. 
You still craved his attention, that part of the deal never left. An overwhelming need to feed his ego, be the only one his sights were set on, at all times. It was toxic, and you knew that… Every little bit of attention he gave to someone else made your blood burn and your face redden with an envy you had yet to experience with anyone else. If you couldn’t give Josh everything that he needed, why could someone else? You knew exactly what he liked…
…Then the voices in your head would return, scolding you for acting and thinking in such a manner toward a man that claims no part of you, other than making you unravel for him night after night as your legs spread wide for his tongue to explore. 
So, you sucked it up, working your fingers to the bone every night slinging pizzas, refilling beers, and not-so-subtly flirting with Josh in the interim. No other men caught and held your attention anymore. None of any substance, at least. You wondered if the reason for that was because of the fake wall you’d built up to stop anyone else from trying to ruin your chance with Josh.  
On one particularly slow night, you and your coworker Jamie were rolling piles upon piles of silverware, doing anything you could to fill the time and keep your hands busy until the next table were to roll in. Jamie was newer and very sweet, and you noticed that she had begun to get a little more personable with you as she became comfortable in her position. 
“So, I heard that Josh turned down that assistant manager's position again, why would he do that? He would be so absolutely perfect for the job…” she pestered, curious as to why someone like him would deny himself a promotion. 
You took a breath. “I know, I agree. I tried to get him to take it but, his argument is that he’s comfortable doing what he’s doing. Making the money that he does without the extra headache and responsibility.”
She clicked her tongue. “Guess I can’t blame him. Managerial positions aren’t for everyone. Hey, maybe they’ll offer it to you!” Her perkiness and over the top energy sometimes made your teeth hurt with sweetness, but you knew she meant well… so you thought, so far. 
“Aha, no,” you laughed. “I haven’t been here long enough yet.” You stood from the barstool you were sitting on and grabbed up the basket of silverware, heading off to the kitchen to do a swap for freshly washed ones. 
“Where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen him in a couple days,” Jamie said as you popped back through the swinging doors. “Not that I noticed or anything, I know you guys hang out a lot…”
Her tone made your stomach turn over, but you tried to ignore it. “He uh, he left town for a few days, visiting some family up North while we have a slow month.” 
You lied. You lied right through your teeth. 
The smile on Jamie’s face was wide. “Oh! That’s nice. I just noticed it’s really quiet around here without him always cracking jokes and stuff, ya know? Without him picking on me and purposefully trying to teach me the wrong things all the time,” her high pitched giggles made you want to throw this stack of napkins right at her face. 
“The wrong things?” you questioned, your eyes heavy on her.  
“Yeah, last week he tried to tell me the Peppadew pizza didn’t have any peppers on it, and that caramelized onions have actual caramel on them… I know better, but it was sweet he’s trying to trip me up, ya know? Like he’s testing me. Keeping me on my toes. And then when he offered to do my side work when I had to leave early for an appointment…just a really great guy, ya know?”
You swore to god, if she said ‘ya know?’ one more fucking time…
“Yeah, he’s a really great guy…” you mumbled, roughly twisting the silvers tightly into the napkin. You felt as though there was smoke coming from your ears, and your head was about to blow at any second. Had he been flirting with her? In the exact same ways that he flirted with you when you first started?
“Oh, and…this is kind of embarrassing but…I cried last Saturday night in the walk-in after my shift. I’d had a rough night, got stiffed by a table and spilled a beer in my shoes, Heather yelled at me and I just…anyway, Josh let me cry on him in there, dried my stupid tears. Really made me feel better, ya know? Told me everyone has those nights and I was a really great server. He even invited me out to the bar after closing. He made me feel so much better about it all.”
He…fucking…what?
The one night you decided to let someone switch you shifts…
“Did you go?” you blurted out a little too quickly. 
“Oh, where, to the bar?”
“Yes Jamie, to the bar. Did you go with him?” you growled.
Her nonchalance was really making you sick. “Oh, I started to, but then I decided against it. Josh walked me to my car and I went home and had a self care night. Those really are the best, ya know?”
“He walked you to your car?” you asked, your words spewing like wildfire now as you felt your blood boiling. 
“Yeah he uh, said he wanted to make sure I was safe… Y/N, you guys aren’t like, together are you? I mean I know you guys are close friends but if you’re anything more, I can back off…”
“No,” you cut her off. “No, we’re not together.” You grit your teeth as your fingers continued to roll, your ears nearly deaf with rage. 
“Are you sure?” she meekly asked. 
“Positive!” you smiled a fake smile. “We’re…really close friends. Nothing more…” The words burned coming from your mouth, the same sentence you’d reiterated to yourself time and time again the past few weeks now being spoken into the air, and feeling more real than ever. Nothing more. Nothing ever more. 
“Oh good! So then… I guess you won’t care if I take him up on his invitation to go to the bar, if he ever asks again? He’s just so sweet and I…kind of wouldn’t mind hanging out outside of wor—“
“No Jamie, I don’t mind. Actually, I don’t mind at all. I’m sure he’d love your company at the bar. He does this with every new hire, I’m sure he’s just breaking you in.” You knew it was wrong, but you somehow couldn’t stop yourself…
“Breaking me in?” she cowered. 
“Oh yeah,” you emphasized your words, making them sound as petty and condescending as possible. “Hot new chick comes to work here, he catches them up in a hot and heavy situationship, leads them along until he gets what he wants, then he disappears from their lives, dropping them like little stray kittens when new fresh meat comes along. Dick move, really. Happens all the time, he’s known for it. Didn’t…didn’t anyone tell you that?” you ask. Fuck, this was so wrong. You’ve lied to her twice now. 
“Oh, shit, no…no one has said anything about that. Does…does he really do that with every new person that comes along?”
“Yep! I’ve seen it a few times myself. He’ll break your heart faster than you can learn the secret menu, babe. Sorry to burst your bubble.” Her face fell as she blushed, definitely surprised at your fake story and taking it all for truth. “But I mean, if you’re into that kind of thing, then by all means…go to the bar with him.”
You could tell that Jamie wasn’t the type to be out looking for a hookup. She was the long term relationship type, you could tell that much just from her demeanor and a quick scroll of her instagram feed. You knew this fabricated story would turn her completely away from Josh, or at least, this new light you’d painted him in. 
You watched as she slipped her hair behind her ear, trying to swallow back the news you’d just bombed her with. “Ah, I’ll see. Maybe sometime I will,” she smiled, quickly turning her charm back on as you both heard the ding of the front door opening, signaling new customers. “My turn!” Her smile was as fake as the story you’d just made up, but you thought it was more out of necessity than kindness. And you suddenly felt fucking awful. 
Every single thing she’d just told you Josh did for her, was something that any gentleman would do, any nice person would do to make a new hire feel at home and welcomed. Of course he flirted with her, he’s a natural-born. Of course he walked her to her car late at night, and of course he invited her out to the bar so she wouldn’t feel left out when the group left together. And you just painted him in a light so horrible that even you wouldn’t want to hang out with him. 
Not to mention the lie you told before this one, that he was up North visiting family for the next few days. Truth be told, Josh called you one morning you were both off work and told you he would be back in a few days, that he had something he needed to take care of and he wouldn’t have cell service. He didn’t give any details, but you didn’t feel it was your place to really ask any, either. 
You’d made sure everything was alright, and asked if he needed you for anything while he was gone, but when he assured you everything was okay and hung up the phone more quickly than you could even give him a proper goodbye, you knew something was up. But what it was, you were completely unsure of. 
Of course you and Josh weren’t the type to text all day, day in and day out…you each gave each other space to live your own lives and do what the other pleased as far as daily activities, but you were confident in the fact that you knew where he was at any given time of day, and he you. It wasn’t ever expected, it’s just how it always was. Especially since you both worked nearly the same schedule. 
But something about that phone call felt wrong. It felt like he was withholding something, cutting your sentences off and not giving you much of anything, at all. Your senses told you that something was most definitely up. 
An intense retrospective dissociation that night after your conversation with Jamie had you replaying the few days leading up to Josh leaving town, thinking back on every little detail and wondering if you had overstepped your agreement with Josh. Made him feel uncomfortable or upset for any reason, but you really couldn’t think of a thing. You knew your thoughts about your relationship felt toxic in your mind, but that’s where they stayed, locked away tight. You never really voiced your concerns with him, trying to keep things as light as possible while you all but suffered internally. 
You fell asleep that night cold and alone, hugging a pillow between your arms while you wished it was Josh hugging you back. 
•••
Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, the rainstorm that had begun falling on you a few days ago had now turned into a full on downpour. 
You’d come into your shift that Friday morning, finding Josh had made it in well before you even parked your car. It was strange of him, as he always clocked in at the exact turn of the hour, no matter what. You tried to keep positive as you made the trek inside, thinking that maybe he’d gotten busy with unpacking when he’d arrived back home and forgot to call you, or maybe he’d re-thought his decision on the assistant manager position and had come to talk to Heather about it. Either way, you were excited to see his face again. 
“Morning, sunshine!” you sang into his ear when you found him on the patio, filling up the Parmesan cheese shakers. “You’re here awfully early, you go off and have a meeting with a life coach, or something?” Maybe playful teasing will break through the ice he had in his voice on that dreadful phone call the other day. 
“Morning,” he said, his voice fallen and a bit defeated. You paused, waiting for him to add some snide remark in his defense to make you laugh, but he didn’t. He just continued on with his task. 
You walked up beside him, grabbing a few stray menus from the cabinet and straightening them up. “You uh, have a good trip?”
“Yeah, was fine,” he replied, his voice chipper, but his eyes still looking at anything but you. Completely out of character. 
You leaned down on your elbows to look up at him from below, hoping that you’d catch his eyes. “Missed you, wasn’t the same without you here…” you cooed, earning nothing more than a tight-lipped grin from him as he tightened the lid on the last shaker. 
“Yeah, ditto,” he said, grabbing the tray of shakers up and backing his way back into the restaurant. 
What the fuck? Shit, had Jamie gotten to him and told him what you’d said? That had to be it, there was no other explanation for his odd behavior. How the fuck were you going to fix this?
You held back from him for the rest of the shift, giving him a little room and meeting the same energy he’d been giving you all day. You tried talking to him a handful of times, with each encounter feeling more and more forced than the last. You’d speak, and he’d respond, but his attitude toward you was nothing like the real him, and more than anything, it began to worry you that something else was up, and your gut wasn’t lying to you at all. 
The shift came and went in a flurry, time passing by in the blink of an eye before shift change hit you in the face. Jamie was replacing you in your section, and you hated to leave it full and not collect your tips, but you really felt as though you needed to get out of this place as soon as possible, and a little good karma wouldn’t be a bad thing to strive for, right now. 
So you transferred every single table to her, much to her overjoyed surprise, and you got to work counting your checks and tips before you could clock out and have an evening free to get away from the awkwardness that had become Angelo’s Pizza. 
You could hardly even face Josh by the end of the day, things felt so tense that you could cut the air with a knife, and you didn’t like it one fucking bit. 
“I’m going to the bar tonight, with Josh and everyone,” Jamie whispered in your ear as she came up behind you as you finished your sidework.. 
“Oh, you are?” you asked, surprised that Josh hadn’t asked you to go, and that he was going at all, given he worked a lunch shift. 
“Mhm, I asked if he was going out tonight, and he said he’d see me there. I just wanted to say thanks, for the warning about him, but I think I’m gonna give it a go, see what happens,” she said, excitement filling her voice as she bit into a staff pizza slice. 
“Ah well, good luck to you, I hope it works in your favor, babe.” You throw on a genuine smile, wanting more to shove her into the dish pit than encourage her any further. 
Much to your surprise, you met Josh inadvertently at the lockers as you were leaving, taking his order pad and pens out of his apron before dispensing it in the dirty hamper to be washed. You cleared your throat as you put your combination into your lock, accepting the fact that he just…didn’t want to talk to you. 
It was silent for a few seconds as the two of you did your own things before you slammed your door shut, making him startle where he stood. 
“Can I uh, walk you to your car, Y/N?” he asked quietly, his gaze still trying its best to avoid you without being rude. 
“It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, Josh. It’s not even dark yet,” you replied, regretting your tone as soon as the words left you. You watched his face fall even more. “I—sure, yes. I’m sorry, I’d love for you to walk me,” you agreed, feeling anxious and uneasy already. Things felt so out of place. 
The two of you waltzed out the back door and into the light of the evening, walking fairly quickly to your car parked on the side lot. “Things busy while I was gone?” he broke through the silence. 
“No,” you breathed, pulling your keys from your purse. “Really slow, actually. Made maybe $275 the whole time you were gone.”
“Yikes, picked a good time to leave, then,” he joked, pulling his arm behind his head. The two of you stood in silence again, what normally would be flirtatious hugs and teasing kisses had been replaced by uneasy stares and forced small talk, and you felt as though you could crumble at the loss of the feeling of him. His once warm and inviting persona has suddenly been replaced with an ice cold stare and a stoic stance.
“Are you sure everything is okay, Josh?” you pressed again, scared stiff to hear his reply as he couldn’t walk away from you, now. 
His honey brown eyes glistened in the sunlight as you watched him bite his lips in, pondering on his words before he said them. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Y/N. Swear.”
“You promise?” you asked as you poked his shoulder, hoping teasing him a little would jog the awkwardness away. 
“Promise.”
“Okay…then, you wanna come over this evening? Have a beer? I have a frozen calzone I'm gonna throw in the oven…” you tried again. 
His eyes darted sideways as he bit his lip in again, his hand uncomfortable as it rubbed the back of his neck. “I um, think I’m gonna stay in tonight, pretty tired from driving. Gonna catch up on some z’s,” he said, his tone completely unconvincing. What the hell…he just lied to you. He’s going to the bar…
You try your best to cover up your surely shocked expression. “Sure yeah, I should uh, probably do that too…” you said as you began backing away from him, aggravated tears threatening your eyes. “I’ll see you later, thanks for walking me.” 
You unlocked your car and hopped into the driver’s seat, quickly finding the ignition as you held your breath and stopped every single emotion from making its way to your face. He couldn’t see you cry… 
You didn’t even bother looking back at him as you pulled out of your spot, knowing that a simple glance at him would have you losing it right there in the parking lot. You could feel his eyes on you, though, watching as you threw it in drive and made your exit quick. 
The road home from Angelo’s was packed with traffic, cars filling nearly every street spot as families and locals alike started to fill the town for the weekend. Your hands gripped hard at the top of the steering wheel as you were carefully watching for pedestrians, the same burning tears fighting their way through the closer to home you became. Your chest was tight and your palms were sweaty, what in the world is happening? Where has your sweet Josh gone?
Maybe the false story you’d made up and told Jamie was actually closer to the truth than you realized, maybe you were just another pawn in Josh’s game until someone new came along. Maybe he really does do this to everyone, and you just hadn’t had anyone to warn you..
You couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, letting them finally fall freely as you neared your driveway. You choked out powerful sobs, your eyes throbbing and your throat tight as you let yourself mourn what felt to be the loss of not only an amazing lover, but one of your very best friends. You whipped your car into the parking spot and shut it off, giving yourself a second to wipe your tears before one of your neighbors caught you in this fucking fit of tears and sobs. 
You felt idiotic, thrashing yourself down into your bed after kicking your shoes off to fall to the floor, letting yourself be overcome with sorrow. And more so, a lingering guilt that you’d done something so wrong that he went from being the one you spoke to the most in this world, to turning you away completely. It was so sudden that you felt like you had whiplash. 
After an hour long cry, you dragged yourself up out of your bed and to the bathroom, stripping away the clothes that held pizza dust and beer to hop into the shower. Hot showers always bring about wisdom, so you made sure to turn the knob to nearly scalding. 
As you let the water flow over your hair and onto your face, the picture on the backs of your eyelids was nothing but Josh… His curls, his chocolate eyes, his perfect smile and the way it gave you butterflies… You aren’t incorrect in confidently saying that your crush on him is more than just that, that your feelings have developed into something a bit more serious. More than what you would call just friends. 
Maybe you should just call him. Force it out of him… Maybe you should show up to the bar tonight, and act like nothing in the world is wrong. Or maybe you should just get back under the covers and have that whole calzone to yourself. All the options sound feasible, but then your mind suggests that you turn the tables. What would Josh do if the roles were reversed?
He’d probably call you up, and when you didn’t answer the first time, he’d call again, letting the tone ring until you either sent him to voicemail or picked up. Then he’d tell you he was bringing snacks and wine over, and you were going to sit with him and explain what’s going on, just like any good friend would do. No questions asked. Josh was a private man, but that still didn’t stop him from loving those who surrounded him unconditionally. And, as far as you were concerned, you were one of those people. And you deserved to know what the hell is going on with him, especially if you had any intention of helping him fix it. 
So, as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in your towels, you decided on doing just that. You grabbed up your phone and opened your text thread with Josh, seeing that the multiple memes and funny videos you’d sent him over the last few days had gone unreplied to, sitting there on read in your texts as if he hadn’t even seen them at all. You ignore it, instead typing up a rather happy message that laid a few things out, seeing if it will bait him to finally respond. 
You: Starting Friends over from season 1, going to see if I’m still Team Joey after this go around. This calzone and wine won’t taste the same without you, but I hope you’re catching up on that sleep you missed out on. Would love to hear about your trip, if you want. The invitation to join me still stands💘
You watched as the message turned to delivered, and you tossed the phone back onto the counter as you awaited hearing the buzz of a reply. You got dressed and dried your hair, realizing that the bar simply wasn’t in the cards tonight, there was no way you’d get the swelling to go down around your eyes from all the crying, anyway. 
If there was anything you’d learned in the past few days, was that your feelings for Josh weren’t unwarranted, and they most definitely were real. Fuck, you cried over the guy. You haven’t cried over someone in years, let alone let yourself mope just because he wasn’t giving you the attention they normally did. It felt childish, and it felt a little silly, but the overflow of emotions set in stone that you really did care for him.
But now, a couple of hours after the text sent through and your calzone sat half-eaten on the stove, you realize that maybe he isn’t going to take you up on the offer to talk, and you’re going to have to finish your bottle of wine by yourself. 
•••
You woke up the next morning on the couch, tangled in a blanket with Friends still playing on your TV. You glance at the time seeing it is only 9:00, and you have all day to hang around before your shift at 4. Your notifications were plentiful, so you wiped the sleep from your eyes and let them adjust to the bright screen. 
A few emails and Facebook nonsense, but there at the bottom is a text from Jamie, and a notification from Josh. 
Jamie: Hey girl, things are going great at the bar, just wanted to say thanks for being real with me. 💋 I’ll let you know how the night ends…
All Josh had done was reacted to your text with a heart. Of course. 
Ya know what…
You shot up off the couch, dizzy from getting up too fast, but more than anything, rightly pissed the hell off. You were over it, over trying, over trying to be gentle with approaching the situation in a way that you thought might push Josh away even more. Fuck it, he didn’t want to talk to you, you didn’t want to talk to him. He wanted to lie to you and go to the bar with someone else, fine. All you ever wanted was his time and attention, and apparently all he ever wanted from you was a piece of ass. And hell, he never even got that. 
Whatever. You’re over it. You’re going to get a coffee, throw on the perfume that Josh used to love, and walk into your shift with him with a newfound charisma. You didn’t need this shit. All it was doing was giving you wrinkles and a reason to drink. 
•••
A week passed, the shifts with Jamie and Josh being anything but friendly since you had decided that there was nothing there with him anymore, nothing that should hold your interest enough to put you through that much emotional turmoil day in and day out. So you found other things and other people to occupy your time at work, making closer friends with the kitchen staff and a few of the other servers and hanging out with them on your nightly trips to the bar. 
It still hurt, and you knew that fake wall you had built was still entirely intact, a protective barrier to save yourself from impending heartbreak even worse than you’d already had because of Josh. But you knew you’d built it out of sticks and mud instead of brick, and you were worried that it would come tumbling down at the first instance of Josh showing you any interest again. He had become addictive like that, but you were strong, realizing your self-worth after you’d given yourself a few days to marinate in your sadness.
Josh’s cold shoulder stayed cold for the first few days after your epiphany, but eased up just a little the day that he asked you if you were going to the bar after a really busy night shift. 
“Probably. Why?” you responded coldly. 
He shrugged as the two of you stood at the expo window. “Just wondering. You don’t really ever fill the barstool beside me anymore.” 
You shot your head sideways to look at him head on, eyebrows cocked with a completely flabbergasted expression. 
“You’re joking, right?” you exclaimed as two pepperonis were set in the window. “That’s because you have Little Miss taking her spot in it most nights now, Josh. Don’t put that weird blame shit on me.” 
“Blame shit? You have just as much right to sit there as she does,” he replied, throwing you for a loop again. He hadn’t spoken to you this much in what felt like weeks. 
You turned to him fully, coming into his space as you realized you were not backing down. “You haven’t spoken to me in days, Josh. Literally ignored me at every turn, ignored my texts and my invitations to talk, you give me the cold shoulder every day…and I still have no fucking clue as to why. I thought our friendship meant more to you than that. So no, I don’t have a right to that barstool anymore, for all I know as soon as I sat down you’d get up and leave, anyway.” You gripped both the hot pizzas in your hands after stabbing the check, racing off as you left him in the dust.
Fuck that. He wants to talk now? After all this time? No. And not like this. 
If he wanted to talk, he could come to you when you both were off the clock. Lord knows you were ready to hear his side of things. 
•••
You didn’t go to the bar that night. In fact, you went straight home, contemplating taking up TJ’s offer to go out for a drive and smoke. TJ was cool, and really good company, even being the professional stoner that he was. He never made you feel like he wanted anything more than just to cruise around and listen to music, always tossing you a few prerolleds before he dropped you back off at your place.
But just as you were about to respond to his text with an “OK, be ready in ten”, you heard a car pull up in your driveway. “Damnit TJ, I’m not nearly ready to leave, yet,” you whispered to yourself as you peeked through your living room curtain. You were still in nothing but your sports bra and panties.
But it wasn’t TJ. It was Josh. 
And his car door was slamming, and he was barrelling toward your front door. What the fuck?
Within seconds, he was banging a fist on the door, yelling your name as if his life depended on it. “Y/N! Hey, answer the door!”
You thought that something may be wrong, so you quickly wrapped your robe around you and darted for the door, unlocking the deadbolt quickly as you began to panic. You thrust the door open quickly, revealing a very pissed off Josh. 
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you asked as he pushed past you and into the room. 
He was pacing around, his hands unknowing of where to land as they ran through his hair, and sat on his hips before rising again to run over his face. “No, I’m not really okay, Y/N… Do you wanna tell me what you’ve been telling people at work about me? Hm? The absolute fucking lies you’re spreading?”
Fuck. You swallowed hard, walking closer to him as you placed your hands gently on his arm. 
“Josh, sit down, I think we can talk abo–”
“No, I don’t want to sit down, Y/N! Why are you making things up about me? Telling people I’m a serial douchebag? That I go after every new hire and dangle them around until someone new comes along? I’m not–I don’t do that, Y/N! That’s not me at all!” he yells, and you know that you’d fucked up. You could feel the rage that you had begun to suppress rising back up in your chest now that he had brought everything to the surface again. 
You stepped back, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You decided to speak slowly and calmly, hoping that it would bring him down a few notches so that you really could talk civilly. 
“Josh, honey, I know that I may have said some bad things, some untrue things. And I shouldn’t have done that, I shouldn’t have made up those lies, and I especially shouldn’t have told them to someone as impressionable as Jamie. And I’m so, so sorry about that. But… honestly Josh, I think I might be starting to believe my own lie, it feels more and more like reality as the days go on… don’t you think?”
He shook his head side to side, his cheeks red. “No, what do you even mean? Reality?”
“Josh, you can’t tell me you’re oblivious to what happened to us, come on now. We went from spending nearly every free second together, becoming involved in each other’s lives, and then you go on some mystery trip and come back a whole different person. You ignore me, ice me out, you don’t reply to me anymore or even treat me the same way when you do talk, so yeah, maybe I was just one of those new hires that you dangled along until something shinier and new came along! I’m not stupid, Josh, I’ve begged you to talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. But you never did, I guess I didn’t mean as much to you as you meant to me. And honestly, it’s fucked up. I deserve better than that.” Your words were spewing, but you meant each and every last one. You got your point across, and said everything you wanted to say. Now the ball was in his court. 
Josh stayed silent as you watched his jaw tighten over and over again, the redness in his cheeks paling to a soft pink as he eventually sat down, laying his head in his hands with defeat. 
“You’ve got it all wrong, Y/N,” you could barely hear him through his ragged breathing. “All wrong.”
You rushed over to sit beside him on the couch, still feeling that same draw to him no matter how upset and angry you really were. “I’m wrong? Then tell me what the truth is, Josh. I’m right here, I’ve always been ready to listen…”
He paused for a few more seconds before finally sitting up, his eyes watery and puffed as he took a deep breath through his mouth. “I went… I went back home. To my hometown. On my trip, that’s where I was…” he trailed off, pursing his lips. “My ex, he uhm. He’d gotten ahold of me, told me he regretted everything that had happened with us, wanted to meet up and talk it out, see if there was any part of our relationship that could be mended.” He swallowed hard, you knew this was probably hard for him to say out loud. So you placed a comforting hand on his arm again, patting it a few times to let him know you were still listening. 
“So we did, we went back home and started where we had left off, talking things out and hearing each other’s side of things for the first time since he left. We were long distance, remember? So things weren’t easy even then, when I thought we were happy. We spent a few days together, very cordially. I spent the nights at my parents’, so he and I usually met for breakfast and then spent the day hiking or… whatever. Giving ourselves ample time to converse. And we did. Uh, we worked through a lot of issues that the both of us had, hang-ups that the other didn’t even know existed at the time.” 
Josh turned to finally make eye contact with you, choking back a few stray tears. “And it was good, I thought we got to a really good place. But. The time came for us to have to leave, and… it uh. Really didn’t go as planned, our goodbye. It felt like a real, actual goodbye. Like we’d spent the time together to air our grievances, but all it did was solidify our decision to keep things the way they had ended up. Completely separated.”
Ah. Well, fuck. 
“Josh honey, I’m so sorry… that must have been really hard,” you say, feeling so sorrowful for him. 
“It wasn’t fun, but I also didn’t go there thinking that one little trip would magically make things good again. I didn’t even really want them to be good again, I just hated leaving things the way we had, hanging by a thread and unsealed like that. Didn’t feel healthy,” he admitted. “I still had things to say.”
He bit his lips in again. “But I realized something the minute I disconnected from him, Y/N…I realized that I’d left you in the exact same predicament that he had left me in. Here, alone, with no explanation of where I had gone. And that hurt me more than anything.” You were surprised, extremely blindsided by this…what? He felt bad for leaving you?
“Josh, I’m confused though, you’ve been back home for days, why have you been icing me out if you felt bad for leaving me like that?” you asked. 
“Because, Y/N,” he stood up, “I’ve never had anyone throw me into a mix so horrifyingly perfect as the one you throw me into every single day. Never.”
You placed your hands on the couch beside you. “What? What do you—“
“You scare the ever loving hell out of me, Y/N. You’re—you’re fucking perfect, in every single sense of the word. You’re beautiful, caring, hilarious… You make me feel more seen than any other human I’ve ever met,” he said, standing before you, now. “I’m terrified of you, Y/N.”
Your chest suddenly felt hollow, and your limbs felt heavier than weights. Nothing was making sense…nothing was adding up. 
“Then why haven’t you talked to me, Josh? Until right now? If I’m all those things for you, why didn’t you know that you could come to me and explain instead of making me feel so stupid the past few weeks?” you defend yourself. “I missed you, I told you that.”
“Because, Y/N, because… I’m a dumb fucking guy, I guess. I thought if I ignored you, maybe things would go away. Maybe I could lie to myself and say that I was making it all up in my head. I wasn’t ready to move on, Y/N. I wasn’t ready to dive back in again and settle down. You know I hate fucking change. I thought that meeting up with him would distract me from you, I guess. Give me something else to focus on. But it didn’t. It didn’t work at all. It only made me realize how much better you are than he ever was to me. So I needed to push you away, see if I could escape from your fucking chokehold on me instead of just letting myself swim into it. But, I swear to god, these last few days I realized my stupid plan wasn’t working. And I can’t get you out of my head. No matter how hard I fucking try.”
Another bombshell. They just kept fucking falling. 
“So then, at the bar tonight, I was trying one last ditch attempt at it. Seeing if I could go one whole night without typing up a reply to you, only to catch myself and erase it again. I needed to see if I could do it. But then, Jamie got too drunk and told me what you said about me, how I tried to swoop in on new hires and take them home, then do nothing but break their hearts. She told me you said I was a real dick, Y/N. Told the rest of the guys about it, too. Had them all starting to believe it. So it pissed me off. I told them that wasn’t true, I’d never treat anyone that way. Told them they could believe what they wanted, but my intentions and my character would never reflect that. Then I left, and here I am. Realizing that I had done that exact thing to you, Y/N. Only with a lot more twists and turns than they were aware of.”
“Josh, I never meant for that rumor to take hold, or spread…I—I was so upset, so jealous that she was going after you, and you were giving her the attention. I was stupid, and I regret it. I promise tomorrow I will make it all right. I’ll tell everyone I made it up,” you tell him, your words holding truth. You did feel shitty about it. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Josh finally muttered after a few seconds of silence. “I have no excuses as to why I treated you that way, other than saying that I made a really dumb decision. You deserved better than that, but I also deserve to not have lies made up about me and my integrity.”
You nodded, tears starting to fall from your eyes, too. “I know, Josh. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it.”
You feel his hand come up to catch the tear before it falls, the gentle contact feeling like a hundred lives of love. “I’ll fix it too, Y/N. I promise, I will. I missed you, I missed you so bad,” he said, finally wrapping his arms all the way around your neck, pulling you into him in the warmest embrace you’d felt in ages, finally breaking through the ice and back into his swirling mix of happy and sweet. 
“I missed you too, Josh. Please believe me…I hated this separation from you, it didn’t feel right.”
“I know, it didn’t feel right to me either. Do you know how hard it was to stay away from you like that?” he said, his voice choking into your shoulder as you held each other. 
“No one forced you to do that, Josh,” you said, pulling away to look at him. “You’re right, you made a dumb fucking guy decision, you know that you could have talked to me about it, you know that if you wanted our relationship to move into something else, I would have been ready to do so however you wanted. I never would have guilted you or pulled you into something that we both didn’t think was right.”
“I know. I know I know. I can see that, now. Now that you held a mirror up in front of my face,” he laughed a little.
A silence fell between the two of you as you both sat in your guilt, realizing your faults on all ends of the spectrum. Neither of you had made good, conscious decisions, but at least neither of you were too proud to admit to it and finally take the responsibility. 
Finally, you gathered the courage to ask… the real root of what could have been giving you a hint to this all along. 
“Is that why you won’t sleep with me?” you asked, your voice small and quiet.
The emotion that came over his features nearly broke you in two, his eyes falling and his mouth puckering up into the most pitiful pout. He took a quick breath, and your hands in his, his shoulders slumping forward as he gathered his own courage to answer. 
“I think so…” He trailed off, his expression suddenly looking like his mind was racing with recognition of his innermost thoughts. “I actually… Probably so. I don’t think I have ever consciously decided that…” his eyes were scanning and darting around as if his mouth couldn’t keep up with his mind. “I want you, Y/N, I hope to god that you know that. I have wanted that with you for a long, long time. That shared experience. I guess I… had some type of wall built up, some kind of false narrative in my head that once we crossed that threshold, there wouldn’t be any looking back. Our fate would be sealed.”
You grinned, “Josh, baby, that’s ridiculous.”
“Ugh, I know,” he huffed. “But is it really, though? Sex can be just as mental for men as it is for women, trust me,” he explained.
“I’m sure, I’m sure,” you nodded. 
“I guess I thought that if… If I had you like that, then my feelings would somehow be locked in, and I just…”
“You weren’t ready for that,” you replied. 
He shook his head slowly, side to side as he eyed you again with pity. “Guess I really wasn’t. But, spending that time back home with him felt so… I dunno, bleak? Like we were both faking it to appease the other. I don’t hate him, and I think that’s mutual…we just needed to realize that maybe we aren’t what each other needed anymore so that we could both move forward in our lives. On to better things.”
“That makes sense,” you nodded in return. “I totally get that.”
Another silence fell on the both of you as you relaxed back onto your couch, re-covering yourself with the robe you’d thrown on. Josh mimicked your action, the back of his neck hitting the plush cushions of your couch as he fell back with a huff. “So, what now?”
You shrugged, not having much of a clue seeing as how the two of you hadn’t spoken this much in weeks. Your heart was still torn to shreds, feeling beaten down and kicked around after enduring so much time of tension. But for Josh, you knew you would find the patience somewhere. You just hoped he would do the same for you.
“Can we just sit?” he asked, leaning down to untie his shoelaces. 
“You’re not gonna go back to the bar?” you asked, thrown off yet again. Even after the conversation, it still felt like he was distant. 
He scrunched up his face in distaste as he tossed his shoes into the corner, pulling the blanket down off the back of your couch. “No, was kinda lame there tonight. Plus I really like Jamie, but if she said the phrase ‘ya know’ to me one more time…”
You grunted a laugh, knowing exactly what he was talking about. “Ah come on Josh, she’s sweet,” you said cheekily as he pulled the blanket over to cover your legs.
“Never said she wasn’t sweet. She just… thinks our work friendship is going to turn into something else, and it’s just not. I was just trying to be the nice guy, ya know?”
You playfully slapped him across the arm as the two of you leaned back into the cushions, fully facing one another now as you scooted yourself closer to him. His warmth. His hand habitually gripping both of your bent knees onto his lap. 
“You are the nice guy, Josh. That’s what I love about you. You made me feel comfortable there before anyone else did. And you were just doing the same for Jamie,” you explained, all the while knowing that from the outside looking in, it truly really might’ve looked like Josh was a serial douche bag. “I’m just glad you really aren’t what I made you out to be.”
“No, m’not,” he breathed, looking across the room blindly. “I swear, I never expected to fall for you so hard, Y/N. I really missed our times, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to keep them going. Keep you happy.”
You let your hand fall to the crown of his head, ringing his curls around your fingers mindlessly as your mind rushed with how you normally used to spend these nights, wrapped up in each other so explicitly that you sometimes wondered if you’d ever tire of one another. Now you know that you wouldn’t have. Your pull to him was powerful and so intense that when the cable was cut you were positive you’d gone blind, wandering around without your muse to keep your mind at ease. His hand was drifting up and down your barren leg, now, sending a shiver through you that you hoped he didn’t catch on to.
“S’okay, Josh. I’m sorry, too. It’s been lonely without you.” You leaned your forehead down toward him, finally breathing him in again for the first time in so long. His scent felt like home.
He exhaled, relaxing his own forehead against yours as his hands hugged you in a little tighter. Just being near him again had you completely forgetting about all the bad things, all the ill feelings that have plagued you these past couple of weeks. Your body was already reacting to his touch, the magnetism toward him gaining strength with each passing second. 
“Will you let me come home, Y/N?”
Your heart fell off it’s high horse, tumbling down into the pit of your stomach as you replayed his words in your mind, letting them soak in like peeks of sunshine through the trees. He thought of you as home, too. 
“Yeah baby, you can come home,” you breathed, the elation filling you so fully that you couldn’t stop your lips from crashing onto his, your hand curling in his hair and pulling him in close. His deep inhale at the surprise of your actions let you know that he had been wanting this maybe even more than you had, his hand moving from your knees to harshly trailing up your thigh. You pulled away after the quick connection, wanting nothing more than to see the expression on his face after you had made the surprise move.
He grit his teeth as you realized his eyes had gone dark, his lips wet and puffed just from the short, forceful kiss. “Thank god,” he breathed with a rattle, reaching both his hands down to your waist to pick you up with ease, bringing you to straddle your knees across his lap. 
“Jo–” you could barely get his name out before he was crashing onto you again, his hands already squeezing tightly at your thighs as you rested your hands on his shoulders. He craned forward, bringing the kiss into something more serious as his tongue began dancing with yours, still burning and sweet with whatever drink he had chosen at the bar before Jamie’s barstool confessional sent him raging mad toward your house.
God, you had fucking missed him so badly. More than you had even noticed, you guessed, as you finally felt the familiar burning touch of his fingertips working their way up your legs to your hips and around to your back as you allowed your robe to fall open. Everything finally felt right again. 
Breaking away from his kiss seemed like a sin so wretched that you didn’t dare commit it as the honeyed taste of him ravished your body for the first time in so long. The scene quickly became much more wanting than it was just seconds ago, a mess of flailing hands and arms reaching and grabbing and making up for lost time. 
You felt your lungs begin to want to gasp for air, and just as you couldn’t take the lack of oxygen any longer, Josh broke away, his mouth immediately reconnecting to your throat. Your head tilted back on its own as the wetness of his mouth peppered kisses down the length of it, finally landing between your breasts. His hooded eyes peered at you through his thick lashes, the smirk on his face asking you permission to go a little further, so of course you nodded. Is hands gripped the cups of your sports bra, freeing your tits of their confines as he pressed his face lovingly between them, his tongue drifting across one and to the other as he lightly teased your nipples. 
You giggled at the touch, feeling giddy and tickled as he switched between light nips and harsh kisses, praising one of his favorite parts of your body that he had so missed. His hands didn’t forget their places on your hips, jerking you forward to press against him as you straddled. Your legs spread a bit wider as pleasure began overtaking your mindset instead of it reeling itself to death. Excitement was soon overtaken by something much more sinister. You could feel him hard beneath you, as you so often did, and you wondered if things were leading toward something else tonight. 
You wouldn’t hold it against him if not, knowing that things are still touchy and probably a bit filtered for him. And for you. But also, if you started to see things going in that direction, you most definitely wouldn’t say no. 
Your body rolled into him, instantly pushing your core down onto him in search of furthering it’s own pleasure. He moaned at the feeling, jerking his hips up as you began to grind a little. You wouldn’t know that he was falling in love with not only the visual of you on top of him…with only the barrier of his jeans and your underwear making the disconnect that he had so desperately wanted to fulfill, but he was also falling in love with the feeling of the essence of you. Your absence from one another had forced him into a rut he didn’t even know he was in, looking for distractions and diversions to take his mind elsewhere… anything to get the vision of your face from his mind while he figured himself out. 
But at least he made the admission. It had lifted a weight off of him that he hadn’t realized was forcing him down into the ground like heavy gravity, the guilt of leaving you in the dust because of his own disposition making him feel like shit. So he decided to seize it, not letting one more second pass that didn’t include you, his one and only stimulation in life. In only the span of a couple of weeks, he’d learned what life felt like without you in it, and he’d be damned if he went any further without living each and every second enraptured in your goodness. 
“Fuck, I missed you…” Josh mumbled as he pulled you to him, whispering in your ear as he trailed kisses down the column of your neck. “I’m so sorry baby, this is where I belong, I swear to god it is…”
With his words, you grinded down harder onto him, your hands tangled in his hair and massaging on his shoulders as you pressed yourself harder. “Mmm,” you agreed, the tiniest whimper falling from your lips as he bit down a little on your right nipple. “I missed you more… Missed this the most…” you admitted through already clouded visions of what was to come next. 
Within seconds Josh was pulling the shoulders of your robe down, watching as the front tie finally loosened and the fabric pooled around your waist. Josh hissed a harsh growl through his teeth as he pulled back, meeting your eyes with a devilish glare. His jaw tightened hard as his the fingertips of his right hand trailed down your chest and stomach, a barely-there touch that had your body shuddering. Then his fingers landed right on your heat, his middle finger pressing against your clit and making tiny circles over your underwear. You let out a quiet shriek at his touch, laughing through a breath as he ripped your panties to the side, hooking them in his grasp while his thumb finally made contact in the exact place you wanted him. 
Your voice was shrill as the pad of his thumb went to work, the pressure and the movement so perfect it was like you hadn’t spent any time apart, at all. Your wrist lazily rested on his shoulder as you closed your eyes, leaning back to give him better access. You felt your neck roll a little as your hips began to swirl on his hand, your wetness already pooling and falling into your panties. “Fuck, Josh…” you moaned, slightly embarrassed by hearing yourself fall apart already. 
“Mmmhm… fuck, you don’t know how good it sounds to hear my name like that…” he said, jutting his hips up onto you. He pulled your panties even tighter, letting his middle finger play at your entrance while the rushing of his thumb never stopped. “God you’re already there for me, aren’t you baby? You look so good right here…”
Your sounds quickly turn into desperation as his middle finger presses further inside, the slight stretch making your hand grip onto his shoulder while the other one rests on his knee behind you for stability. Luckily, with the lack of actual sex with Josh, the two of you had become extremely well-versed in the other forms of the act, becoming professionals with pleasing the other in all ways but one. His finger began to pump slowly, working itself inside you as he hooked it and perfectly brushed the most sensitive spot deep inside you. Your mind fuzzed with static as you realized you were near the peak already; how quickly he knew exactly how to get you there. 
You wanted more, you wanted all of him, you always had. But you knew better now that to push the issue like you used to. If it was going to happen, it was going to be his decision. You’d bargain that he knew exactly where you stood on the matter. 
You felt your teeth digging into your bottom lip as your hips swirled, the pleasure already blinding as you’d gone so long without the touch of his hands. His free hand was still gripping your waist and guiding your movements, pulling you even more harshly against his still-clothed length. 
Like he had read your mind, he suddenly stopped, gently pulling himself from you and pushing you backward a little to stand up. The loss of his touch made you want to scream as the delicious buildup was beginning to be too much, anyway. So you stood, willing to go along with whatever it was he wanted, tonight. He stood up as well and undid his belt, letting his pants fall from his waist and onto the floor.
You helped him by jerking at the bottom hem of his shirt, ripping it up over his head and dispensing it on the floor. You’d forgotten just how beautiful he was underneath his clothes, his torso chiseled and arms strong and inviting. His chest was heaving at the sight of you and the mess of the situation, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think that he was unaware the night would end up here, just the same as you were. 
Just from the light in his eyes though, you could tell that he didn’t have any regrets. You made the move to push him back down onto the couch, wasting no time in placing your open palm against his length while connecting your mouth with his again. It was like his sweetness had a new air of addiction to it, now that all of your feelings for one another had begun to come uncovered. You hadn’t brushed by the fact that he had admitted his feelings for you were stronger than he’d even noticed, and you were yet to tell him that you had felt the same, all this time. 
As he fell back into his seat, letting you take charge this time, you snaked your legs across him again and landed on your knees, craning high above him as your hand never left his length. You kneaded and squeezed, feeling him grow harder and harder as you pleased him, kissing him hard again. He whimpered quietly into your mouth and it nearly sent you back into that same frame of mind again, but you wanted to stay clear-headed. 
“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Josh. You know that?” you smiled onto him, making his eyelashes flutter as he suckled at your bottom lip. “Everything about you.”
“Is that a good thing? Or,” he grinned, his hands finding their place on your hips again.
“It is now,” you crooned. “I was crazy mad before… Crazy sad that you’d iced me out… But before all that I was just crazy into you. Wanted you around all the time, wanted your full attention, wanted you to be able to call me yours and no one else’s.” You weren’t sure where you were going with the admission, but you had to meet him on his level after he’d bared a bit of his soul to you. You leaned down to avoid his eyes just in case he was nervous, and you began lightly digging your teeth into his shoulder as you continued sneaking your hand into his boxer briefs.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he shuddered at your touch, his body crunching in on itself from the contact. “Yes…”
Your hand gripped his shaft and worked its way up his length, and you found that your hand had missed the feeling of him, too. You lightly massaged his tip, making his whole body rush and writhe beneath you. “Feel good, baby? Always wanna make you feel good, missed hearing your sounds…” you said, taking back a little bit of that control to urge him on. 
You stayed this way for another minute or so, working him up just as he had done for you. He was already impossibly hard in your hand, and you could tell he was nearing that point, his teeth biting into your shoulder and his hand pulling you down to brush against him at every pause in your movement. The both of you had reached points of ferality, your hunger for each other coming back full force. 
His hand reached behind you and gripped your ass hard, pulling at the muscle with such tension it almost hurt. But that’s how you knew that he was having a hard time keeping it together. Your heart raced in your chest as you felt his breathing stagger, the closeness and intimacy both teetering on the edge of becoming something more than either of you had bargained for tonight. 
“Let’s go… into your bedroom. Let’s go,” he demanded, making moves to lift you from your straddle. 
He stood tall with you in his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around him so you didn’t fall. 
“Are–Are you sure, Josh?” you asked, halfway knowing that this might be the moment you’ve been waiting for, but also one hundred percent ready to keep taking things slow, no matter how bad your body craved him. 
“Positive. I’m tired of this… I want… No, I need you, Y/N,” he explained, making his way toward your bedroom door. 
He kicked it closed behind him before dispersing you on the mattress, bouncing a few times as he flicked the light off to darken the room almost completely. All you could see was his perfect silhouette from the ambient light from the window, kicking his boxers all the way off before shifting them to the side. You removed your own bra and tossed it aside as you felt the familiar feeling of him reaching under you to pull you back to the edge of your bed. He ripped your panties off and tossed them away, too, before rubbing his hands along the insides of your thighs, making them fall apart. 
“One more taste of you, though,” he growled before connecting his tongue to your soaked core. 
“Oh my god, Josh… fuck…” you cried rather loudly as your hands found his locks. You pulled at them without a lick of shyness, wanting him buried between your legs like you had imagined for nights on end during the time spent without him. His tongue jumped into action as he licked up all your wetness, sending himself deeper and deeper inside you, his actions pointed and messy all at the same time. 
“Mmm,” he crowed, and you knew then that he truly did miss this just as much as you did. There was nothing like it. Nothing like him. No one had ever given you the same amount of pleasure and adoration as he had. And you hoped to god that he was here to stay, this time. 
Your lower belly began tightening with waves of pleasure, but you suspected that it was more due to the excitement that you were finally going to experience him for all that he was, as raw and delicious and perfect as you had always imagined. You fought back the euphoria that he was already quickly getting you to, knowing that you wanted to savor this feeling for all that it was worth. 
He could tell you were close as you began actively trying to calm your breathing, stifling away any impending concentration on trying not to orgasm. 
He took that as his cue to push you further back on the bed, crawling his way up your body as the two of you finally met, completely unclothed and baring your souls to one another. Finally. 
“Josh, please don’t feel like you have to do this, I completely understand,” you reasoned as he guided his tip up through your soaked folds. Just that sensation alone had your eyes rolling back in your head. God that was so fucking… 
“I want to, god damnit, I need you,” he said, his voice chopped with desire. “Been waiting too long for this, for you…”
Your legs spread wider for him as he teased you, collecting up your wetness and savoring the feeling of the two of you finally connecting. Your body was burning with want, and you were terrified that you would be close to the edge again as soon as he entered you, but you held out hope. 
“I’m fucking over the just friends shit, Y/N. I’m done with it. I can’t keep lying to you, lying to myself…” he raised up on his elbow to get a better look at your face as he pulled a few stray hairs clear. “Tell me you feel the same…”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Josh? I’ve wanted you since the second I met you, since the day you talked me off the edge in the walk-in…” you hummed. “Something different about you, and I knew it. Been craving you ever since…”
“Craving me, huh?” he huffed with a heavy air of confidence. “Awfully powerful emotion.”
You pursed your lips as you shook your head, your hips rutting into his touch. “More than a craving. You make me think about shit, make me want a future. No one else has ever understood me like you do, baby. And we’ve got so much more to learn about each other…”
He knew you were right. Things had been this good for a while now, and if it weren’t for this latest hiccup, the two of you would have been on the road to oblivion together, sharing more than just work secrets and pleasure-filled evenings after too many drinks at the bar. 
“I’m serious, Y/N. I wanna be more with you,” he admitted with a harsh swallow. He pressed himself inside you just a little, giving you a sliver of a taste of what else he had to offer. 
“Then let’s do it, let’s be more,” you agreed, positive of the fact that you could see right through your current lust for him and into what you believe will be a healthy, steady relationship. 
“Yeah?” he asked, and you could tell he was smiling. “You sure?”
“Never been more positive,” you relayed as he pressed a little further, making your skin crawl with the delicious satisfaction of getting exactly what you wanted, after all this time. 
Josh sweetly pressed his lips to yours, and pressed himself inside you, inch by delicious inch until he was fully seated. 
Finally, finally.
There wasn’t any way to describe how it felt, only whispers of sounds and attempted strings of letters meant to be words falling from both of your lips as you let yourselves relish in the thrill. Cloud nine didn’t even begin to explain it, and euphoria was way behind in the string of feelings that your mind, body, and soul were experiencing. 
It was as if he completed you in ways that you didn’t know needed completing, filling in all your empty spaces and wholly baring his entirety to you in a way that only he could.  
“Fuckkkkkk…” was all you could mutter, and a sharp inhale was all he could breathe, his jaw hanging agape as he took you in. 
He began moving inside you, pulling out ever so slowly and then pushing back in again with light force. Electric shocks filled your system and deep rolls of pleasure threatened your psyche, making you positively dizzy with overwhelming satisfaction. Your hand jolted up to your own hair, pulling it back from your face as you fought with desperation. There was no way he felt this good…
“Good baby?” he asked quietly in your ear, beginning to pick up a little bit of a pace. 
“Fucking…unreal, Josh,” you mumbled, having trouble formulating anything coherent. 
“You’re fucking perfect Y/N, I swear to god…” he breathed as he raised up on both hands, steadying himself above you as he twisted his hips to a new angle. He propped up on his knee as he began rolling his hips, each thrust bottoming out and hitting you impossibly deeper each time. He reached behind him and pulled your leg up to rest around his waist, the new angle making you cry out in a sweet pain for just a second until he worked you through it. 
The sounds bouncing off the walls were borderline embarrassing, but neither of you cared. You were locked in, completely out of control and in it at the same time as your bodies ravished one another beyond any point of authority. It was intense, and it was uncontrolled, but damn if it wasn’t beyond every single thing you had ever imagined. He leaned down on his elbows to put his face close to yours, bringing you into a deep and sweet kiss. Nothing could have prepared you for this. You always knew you had chemistry, but this…
He picked up speed for a minute or so as you cried out, his own sounds beginning to creep through his chest and into the hot air of the room. Half of you wanted to push him to his back and let you take over, but you’d wager that he wanted this. Wanted to continue to prove to himself that this was the right decision, tonight. And hopefully, for a long time to come. 
He suddenly slowed, just as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening to a point of no return, and began to slowly and steadily pump in and out of you. The crude sounds suddenly ceased, and you were left with him swaying his hips in a motion not unlike the waves crashing onto the sand, lazy and slow and with tempo. 
“Josh, I feel…” you couldn’t even get the words out as your throat had gone dry, aching itself as you gasped for air. You shook the thought and met his eyes, full of so much adoration you felt like you could cry. 
“Me too, baby, me too…” he agreed as he continued on with gently and deeply kissing you, letting his tongue keep in rhythm with his hips. There was nothing you could think of that could top this feeling, except the notion that maybe you could do this again and again and again, letting your love for Josh grow like a watered seed in early spring. There was nothing you wanted more than to watch him grow into your counterpart, and you a person he could positively call his. “Just let me know what you want, it’s yours…”
“Just want you, just want this…all the time…” you begged, feeling your insides begin to twist. He nodded hard, agreeing with you as he let out a sweet ‘mhmm’.
“You feel so good baby, so perfect…” he sang after a few seconds, his voice hanging on for dear life as he sat back on his heels, giving him a full view of you. His hand drifted down to your core again, tracing harsh circles over your clit as he continued his thrusts. The added stimulation made your head want to explode. He pulled your ankles up to rest on his shoulders, leaning in to you and allowing for a much deeper, much more challenging position. “So fuckin’ tight,” he grit, his teeth grinding against one another as he began to lose the composure of his patterned thrusts. 
“Josh, fuck…” you cried pitifully, your hands digging hard into the muscles of his shoulders. “Keep going keep going…”
“It’s yours, baby, let me have it…” he commanded, and you knew right then you’d give him anything he’d ever ask for. His eyes were sparkling and dark in the dim light of the room, and the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead made you dizzy with a new attraction to him. He’d never know how beautiful he really is. 
You felt your abdomen tighten again as you fluttered around him, letting him know that you were close. He began picking up speed again as his hips pounded into the backs of your legs, and you could feel him twitching deep inside you. You began humming through the impending pleasure, your nails digging hard into his back as you let the buildup overtake you. 
His chest grunted in pleasure as you both raced for the finish line, knowing that the other was right there alongside. It overtook you in more ways than one, your body tightening in on his as you let yourself feel it wrapping around your bones, around your entire being. He felt better than anything you could have ever imagined. Anything anyone else could have ever promised. You paid close attention to how his body reacted to his own release, shaking and crying out in the most beautiful song you’d ever heard. 
And it was all because of you. 
When all was said and done and the both of you returned to a place of coherency, you could do nothing but smile ear to ear as his glazed-over eyes took you in, placing tiny sweet kisses all over your face as he stayed buried inside you, not wanting to part. 
You both lazed for what felt like an hour, nestling in under the covers after a quick cleanup in the bathroom. Josh’s voice never raised above a whisper for the rest of the night, his sweet nothings making your heart swell with gratitude for him. Finally, the one thing you’d been wanting all along, and what Josh had unknowingly been too afraid to to jump to, finally happening in such a beautiful way the both of you had no idea why you waited so long.
“Hope I made your decision worthwhile,” you bit, a bit shy to be laying the situation back out on the table. 
“Psssh… you surpassed any caution that I might have held, babe. Perfect…in every way.” His hand laid across your cheek as his thumb brushed across the soft skin, basking in the afterglow that he now wished he would have never held back on. “M’sorry we didn’t do that sooner, I guess… I guess you were right. I was too scared of my own shadow. Should have been showing you how I felt all along.”
“You were worth every single second of the wait, Josh. Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen til now,” you suggested, realizing that maybe the both of you needed that bit of separation to let yourselves feel that the lack of closeness wasn’t rational, at all. 
He took you up in his arms, pulling you in close to his chest. You breathed him in, letting yourself relax into his scent and his comfort. “You gonna let me call you mine, now?” he asked, his voice so quiet you barely heard him. 
But his words made your chest blossom with admiration. The one thing that’s made the most sense in your new life, finally coming to fruition. 
“I’ve always been yours, Josh. Since my first day at Angelo’s,” you giggled across the pillow as you lifted your leg to lazily drop over his hip. 
He laughed out loud, rolling to his back a little as his hand lovingly fell to caress your thigh. His elbow fell across his face as he yawned, the effects of the night finally taking hold over him. 
“Ten,” he said matter of factly. 
“What?” you asked through your own yawn. 
“I give you a ten. Nothing more, nothing less,” he uncovered his eyes and rolled to kiss your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. Everything about the gesture made you warm with love for him, grateful for the man that finally let himself feel. 
“My girl, the perfect ten.”
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eliotlime · 2 days ago
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End of October Update
There's got to be a less clunky way for me to title these things but maybe I'll figure it out after a few posts.
Anyway at the top of the order I want to say that uh... the Abacelsus zine is not happening by halloween unforch.. I just started school part-time and it being part-time is still kicking my ass! So tentative release date will be on 11th November unless something else happens....
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On the plus side I'm done with the cover so all that's left is the back page and cramming all 24 pages full of drawings 👍
-> As I've said at the end of my previous post I want to make more blog style posts so here's me trying to do that, more under the cut
🔐Abacelsus Zine
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I'm still deciding on whether i want to print it A5 or B5 but I'm leaning towards A5, though for the digital release it doesn't really matter lol
As mentioned, I'm done with the main cover so I just need to fill this entire thing with stuff, I said 24 pages but really the total page count is 30. I'm just not counting the cover and the blurb stuff.
I'm half taking a break with this at the risk of burning myself out and half paralysed with starting it. Plus I've kind of been more into Axl & I-no hilariously but I'll always love A.B.A. I think the lack of any real info really lends her well to interpretation which is always fun.
I've never really been one to engage in fandom so I'm probably going to be doing my own thing. That being said if anyone has any suggestions feel free to drop them in my strawpage or ask box :)
🥤 Strawpage & General Socials
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The bugs make my pages so decorative, I gotta draw more bugstyle guys.
Speaking of strawpage, I made one of those! It was really fun, I have a short OC info tab with descriptions of some of my main guys. I'd love for you to check it out.
This kind of acts as my ask box for twitter since there's not one there and apparently it's basically my main social media site these days so I'm just mirroring my experience here over there too.
Hilarious timing considering that it's basically collapsing on itself once again, I'll probably still be on that damn site until it implodes but I also have a Bluesky account for those that care about it.
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The sky follower bridge extension is really useful for bulk following people from twitter to bsky
I'd love to post there more but there's not a queue function and that's very important to me as someone who is not American and lazy to remember optimal timings.
Did you see? I also have a new pinned for this blog! Wanted to make a new one for a while now, always thought the old one was so freaking long. All the old info is still on my about and faq page though I don't know who actually looks at those.. a relic from years past..
☹ School
Sigh, like I mentioned earlier I'm doing school again! At my big age, but I'm having fun so far! It's part-time but it's still kicking my fucking ass! It's the main reason why I'm a little disoriented this month honestly.
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Do you like it? I spent an entire Sunday making my class miro board look niceys and then proceeded to get nauseous from cybersickness afterwards LOL
I'm doing a UI/UX course and I have to say the funnest part about it is making personas, it's like making OCs. Don't particularly like writing though.. but also that's a lie considering the numerous amount of paragraphs in this blog post alone haha
🎁 Merch
I've also gotten confirmation that I'll be boothing again next year in Febuary! So I gotta start locking into making more stickers and general merch. I say this a lot but I do need to look into opening an online store because I just have tonnes of stickers and stuff lying around waiting till the next time I do a convention which is kind of a shame.
Oh, but I will say that if you are from Singapore and would like anything from my previous convention catalogue feel free to shoot me a DM on instagram and I can mail it to you locally, shipping's $2 SGD.
➰Closing Thoughts
All in all, been kind of busy this month with school and various loose threads from September but overall I think I'm doing better! I've also been cooking lately and truthfully that's my biggest achievement this month haha, been also getting really into canned fish. Yummy!
Oh and a last thing is that I've been itching to animate again so I'll end this post with a WIP of a gif I did last night/morning. I almost always never finish my animations but here's hoping this one actually makes it to the colouring stage haha
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No prizes to anyone who can guess who these two because of course.
Thank you for reading! I know I can't expect everything to be done in a single month but I just wish I could do everything without getting tired or cybersick! If you'd like to support me, here's my ko-fi page and my itchi.io & gumroad as well.
If you have any questions or just generally want to talk to me, my DMs and askbox is always open! Any professional enquires can be sent towards my email as well: [email protected]
XOXO, Stay weird!
-Eliot :)
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shesmore-shoebill · 6 months ago
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since you mentioned an angel in neon blue as one of your faves…..your top 5 amangela fics perhaps? some honorary mentions too if there’s too many? 👀
Sorry for the delay on this, life got busy and then more busy instead of less busy and I wanted to give this ask its deserved amount of consideration.
anyway. Five is HARD. I will do my best. Order is not indicative of anything bc I've agonized long enough as it is. I've tagged folks + linked directly to their posts where I could find their associated tumblr post, and links to AO3 where I couldn't.
Also I cheated and made a separate list for NSFW ones. Partly because I know some people don't want to read NSFW. and to cheat a little on the 5 restriction.
As always, RPF with F as in fiction. From what I recall, none of these are attempting to speculate or make any actual statements about real people, they're all just works of fiction I like.
if anyone wants me to remove a link to their fic or a tag for any reason, let me know.
close my eyes (and fantasize) by @baflegacy
listen. I am a fucking sucker for well intentioned and realistic miscommunication that stems from care and then goes wrong. I love a thing where someone cares about someone and thats why they're worried and the worry also means they are a little mad and a little hurt bc fuck, i want to help you, why arent you talking to me about this, did i do something, crossed with the other person doing everything in their power to do the exact thing driving them up the wall, because they genuinely care so much about the other person that its skewing their judgement. People who care and people who fuck up. I'll eat it up every time, and this one is written in a way that feels so real. 👌👌👌👌
the devil is in the details by @skiespeaches
this is a newer fic and its still in progress atm and so theres a chance it gets bumped into NSFW territory 😅 but im really enjoying it!!! The dynamic between Amanda and Angela takes the competitive edge we can see in videos and makes it into something phenomenal. Its got such strong tension and pacing, and its also got. REALLY GOOD COMMUNICATION. People react realistically and have reasonable fears and doubts but everyone also talks about them and trusts each other and its just so satisfying to read as a result. And it STILL does the tension and the 👀👀👀👀👀 so well. Guess its kind of funny to put this and the prior recc right next to each other but I genuinely love both of these. Communication and humans are weird.
not strong enough by @moviemandy
i love a disaster angela fic as much as anyone but because I feel like that trope is established among smosh rpf, I love having that get subverted even more. More Amanda getting comforted!!! yeah!!!!!And the way the dynamic and emotions are written in this one is especially satisfying to me, they all feel very real, and sweet. :') Also, Im always a sucker for the trope where someone tries to deflect from their issues by taking care of someone else and then gets CALLED OUT FOR IT. also, double bonus, this fic can be read completely platonically. :]
a field of yellow flowers by @unknownteapot
gah this one has so many layers and elements to it, its such a damn delight to reread. the bittersweetness of it all really 👌👌👌👌. Grudging respect and admiration in an awful space, magnetism of people who both deeply want to love each other and really don't (but they do). The world feels very realized and that's so important bc the fic clearly sets up the interplay as like. The two of them and also the world they are in as a distinct three players in the story. This fic has so many emotions!!! gut punch of an end! you feel for both of them so deeply by the end.
i've been having revelations by @poppyfamily
slight cheating bc this is courtmangela but it should still count imo!!! It contains another classic trope of people who care about each other deeply and it being percieved by other people before they clock it themselves. Its something I like specifically as a writing trope and only executed in specific ways- caring deeply and being affectionate does not HAVE to mean you want to sleep with or are in love with someone, and IRL assumptions about that can be. Infuriating. But love how this fic does it. :) Also its funny and it feels very genuine and the voices all sound. right. I love fics with lots of cuts where so much is said in tiny details and tiny moments, it makes the world feel very fleshed out. Also, Courtmangela as a band is just a blessed concept.
NSFW fics:
lets make this bed get squeaky by baflegacy
This rewrote my goddamn brain chemistry actually. Like yes, this one is hot, but the parts that really hooked into my brain are not exclusively the spicy bits. Pining RPF Amanda is SO important to my brain, and that dynamic of an Amanda silently losing her mind and Angela also silently losing her mind but slightly more at peace about it, combined with their very genuine friendship keeping things fine and then. and THEN. well.
personal leisure by unknownteapot
hey this fic is hot as hell. Its extremely well written. But also besides the nsfw parts the banter and the sort of instant connection all feel very real and unforced and i love that the end of the fic feels so open ended but also so light and hopeful and sweet. choosing to believe they meet for coffee the next day and it all goes swimmingly.
like she wants to try me on by baflegacy
this fic is about amanda in the submissive and breedable outfit and angela. It accomplishes eveeything you could want from that. Its Very nsfw. its VERY good. Writing smut is difficult on multiple levels- keeping it logistically and emotionally sound while keeping it spicy. It does all three really well. also the aftercare moment is really sweet. :]
bonus: its the subject of this ask so i didnt include it but shout out to an angel in neon blue- the tension is INCREDIBLE and the way the ending recontextualizes everything and leaves you unsure who was really in control the whole time is like. really impressive. The characterization is SO strong and feels so true to the Sarah Christ we know and creates an equally strong Creekside Killer characterization to juxtapose it. 👌
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bunnihearted · 21 days ago
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🫖🐭☁️🍚
#so i did ​meet my old friend from years ago yesterday. i was sooooo nervous omgggg. and i was waiting outside the café we agreed on#and then saw them walk in and i was like omgggg. the anxiety... but then i gathered courage and walked towards it and thry saw me thru the#window and came out and immediately hugged me. then they were like 'omg i've been so nervous. even more than before like a date!!'#so that made me relax a bit. i feel like i dont really fully estimate what i mean to them. maybe they care about me as well haha !!#then we just got our stuff and i chose a smoothie and was ready to pay but they just got it with their stuff (they work at this chain so#they got a discount). i feel so so bad & anxious when someone else pays for me. like i feel like a burden#but i asked twice if i should send them money for it and they were like no that's fine. so i had to tell myself to just shut up abt it 🥲#bc if u keep asking u make it into a thing and make them uncomfortable etc. so i really appreciated that and it was nice even if i felt bad#but yeah then we just sat down and talked. and it was so much easier to talk to them than i had been worried abt#like it flew nicely and yeah.. i feel like i forgot a lot abt them. like they're good at conversating. so they kept it going & even if i was#awkward it was fine for them. i did however get swept up in my own anxiety so as they asked me questions i answered#but then was too whirlwindy so i didnt really ask as much back and there were things i wanted to ask but didnt :')))#then they had cards and a card game with them. so we played for a bit too. and it was a lot of fun!!! (i was anxious and kinda slow lmao#bc when i dont know smth or the rules etc already my brain stops working so yeah.. even if it was simple games i was like um um what do i do#felt stupid but yeah again they didnt do anyhing to contribute to me feeling stupid but i still felt slow >.<#but i still thought that was so much fun. i wanna do more of that T-T like yeah...that was nice#then we took a lil longer walk to a bus stop before hastily said goodbye bc the busses came T-T#it was really really really nice tho. i have missed them a lot#and i didnt .. think we would ever see eachother again. i really didnt think this could happen#im so glad i somehow got brave enough to message them and im so so glad they wanted to see me too#i cant help but wish i could go back to when we were younger#and we spent every day in school together and messaged during the days and evenings and spent sm time together#when we went into the city like several times a week and took long walks. ahh... well. im glad we got to have those moments#& idk what will happen now. i really really want to see them again. even if we'll never be that close friends again i'd *wish* that we could#still be in touch. but im so bad at replying which doesnt go over great with them.. i'll try my best to reply quicker to them#*if* they message me. sadly i cant erase my avpd but i'll try my best to reply faster if and when they message)#they also complimented my sweater i was wearing (which is my fav sweater) !!!! and yeah.. they looked so cool. which they always have#and i kept thinking abt how nice their eye makeup was (i was too shy to compliment it tho bc im really bad at like 'nice' affectionate and#anything feeling related. like im so bad... so i couldnt say anything </3)#ugh it was just so nice to sit and talk with them. im so glad i went despite my fears. bc this was so good and nice :')))
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coquelicoq · 1 year ago
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i’ve been trying to think of ways to keep up my spanish since i moved and don’t know as many people to speak it with here; i saw you’re reading out loud in french every day how’s that going? would you recommend it to maintain fluency? :)
it's going well! it's great for maintaining vocab for sure, especially if you read recent stuff (as opposed to novels from the 1800s lol). and it's been helping a ton with my pronunciation; actually speaking the words helps with your own articulation as well as your oral comprehension to a lesser extent. i think it's a pretty good option in the absence of conversational partners, and it's really not necessary to spend a ton of time on it per day, especially if you're already fluent. you could read a chapter a day (or 10 pages, or 5 pages, or whatever) just to keep your hand in. worth a try if you have some spanish-language books available!
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jankwritten · 1 year ago
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Current thoughts on hockey au?
I have a lot of thoughts on hockey AU. currently I'm considering re-writing the past 5 chapters, because I just don't like the way they progressed, nor do I really like the way it leads into the next arc, because it feels like they did a lot of nothing for 5 chapters, which will then move into super fast paced things happening every chapter, and I want things to flow a little smoother than that.
I had the idea that Jason should actually stay with Thalia during this arc instead, and have him and Nico meet up around the city by Jason sneaking away from Thalia and Nico ducking out of plans with the guys until inevitably, Nico invites Jason to the game and they end up at the bar all together. I feel like that would suit Nico and Jason's relationship growth a lot better, even if it means sacrificing scenes I LOVE like the scene where they hug in the parking lot on the day Jason arrives, or the scenes where Nico is awake and in awe of how Jason is Jason, etc.
I would obviously keep a draft of the current chapters somewhere, just in case, because I don't hate them. I just don't love them, and I want to love hockey au.
All that being said - I'm full-time employed now, so I unfortunately don't have 12 hours a day to write or brainstorm or anything, and the time I DO have, I'm so tired all I can really do is mindless stuff. Plus, I'm a part of a zine right now and that's taking all of my creative focus.
I'm hoping to write a couple shorter Jasico fics in October, because the season change has got me feelin' some type of way, but for right now, hockey AU is on the backburner.
(Also, the IRL hockey season just started, so maybe getting to watch some real hockey again will boost my motivation!)
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eupheme · 1 month ago
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— double the pleasure, triple the fun
[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 5.6k
tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings
a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖
“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 
It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”
There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 
“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”
(Or, your two becomes three.)
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“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”
Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 
Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.
To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.
“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 
A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”
“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”
The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.
“Is that... Logan?”
“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”
There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”
“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“
Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”
“Definitely, maybe.”
Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 
“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”
He hums, head tilting.
“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”
Your brow furrows.
“You are talking about Logan now, right?”
Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”
And what a question it is. 
You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.
And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 
That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.
It was different. Special.
“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”
You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 
“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”
“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”
He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“
Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.
“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.
“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”
Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.
“Do you think he wants that, too?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”
You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”
“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.
“I’ll handle it.”
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It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.
A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.
He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  
It will be nice to be able to take your time. 
They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 
Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.
How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 
"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"
"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."
And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.
The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 
Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.
"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."
Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."
"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"
"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."
At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 
Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.
It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 
But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 
And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.
"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."
"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"
It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.
Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 
"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"
Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.
"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"
He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"
"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."
That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"
"Yeah, baby." He grins.
"Really fucking good." 
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The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 
Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 
Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 
And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 
More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.
It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 
Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.
Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 
“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 
It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 
“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”
“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 
A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”
“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”
Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.
“This is you handling it?” You hiss.
“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”
Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 
Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 
“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”
There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.
“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 
It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”
There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.
A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 
“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”
A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.
It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 
A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 
“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 
”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”
There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.
“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 
“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”
The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.
Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.
“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 
Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 
Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.
That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 
It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 
“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”
You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 
“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”
Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”
For us. 
Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 
Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 
Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 
They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.
There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 
“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”
Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.
“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”
Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”
Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”
Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.
“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”
Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.
Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 
Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 
“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 
A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.
Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”
Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.
“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”
“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”
Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.
Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.
“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.
His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.
“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”
Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 
Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.
“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”
Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.
“Fuck us into your tight ass.”
You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 
“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”
“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.
His fingers crook, and curl.
“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 
“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”
His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”
It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.
The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.
His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.
Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.
A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 
“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”
They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.
“Stop moving when I do.”
It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.
“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”
His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.
“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 
Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 
A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”
You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.
“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”
“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 
“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”
Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.
Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 
Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.
It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.
Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 
How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.
A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.
It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 
He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.
Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 
A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.
Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 
The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.
A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.
Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.
A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 
“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”
Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.
“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.
The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.
His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”
“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.
“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”
Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”
Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.
Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  
Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.
You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  
“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”
Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 
It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 
Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 
The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 
Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 
There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.
Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.
Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 
Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 
“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 
Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.
“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”
“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”
Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 
Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 
Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 
Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 
It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 
Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 
A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 
It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 
“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.
“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”
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Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.
As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 
“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”
“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 
Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.
“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”
Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 
Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 
Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.
The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 
Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.
You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.
“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 
Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.
“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”
“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”
A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 
“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”
“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”
Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 
That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.
There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.
Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 
Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 
“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.
“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”
He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.
“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 
“I’m good.”
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thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )
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vampiefemme · 1 month ago
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a blurb in which ellie’s a sex shop worker you’re becoming very, very well-acquainted with <3
18+ mdni! shoo!
you’re on the verge of what would be your most earth-shattering orgasm to date when your vibrator betrays you.
your naked body, painted with a thin layer of sweat, sprawls over the wrinkled sheets of your bed, the damp fabric clinging to your skin as you gasp for breath. you’re working the vibrator over your slick folds, through the creamy spend of your previous orgasm, and every sensation below your waist is pure ecstasy. it hasn’t taken long to bring you right back to the edge - your back arches of its own accord, your eyes squeezing shut as a flurry of daydreams passes through your head.
all of them, it turns out, involve the very person who’d sold you the vibrator buzzing between your legs. ellie.
her hands on your hips, your ass, your throat. her mouth on your neck, her tongue on your clit. you can almost feel the warm puffs of breath she’d huff down at you as she fucked you, splitting you open with her strap and leaving you empty-headed and spent.
the mental images alone are enough to send you reeling, and right as you’re about to pass the threshold into the white-hot, blinding pleasure of another orgasm, the persistent hum of your vibrator abruptly cuts off.
you could throw up. you could cry. you could exercise sound logic and just charge the damn thing, but instead of any of the above, you find yourself rummaging through your drawers for whatever clothes you can find. sweats and a band tee, a mismatched pair of socks. nothing else.
ellie’s behind the counter again when you pull the door open. the shrill chirp of the entrance sensors draws her eyes to you, and you’re unsurprised to find her smoking a cigarette, body huddled over the edge of the counter. her brows lift in surprise when she sees you.
“back already?” she asks, putting out her cig leisurely. “must’ve gone really well. or maybe really poorly?“
you don’t miss the way her eyes roam over your figure, lingering on your chest; you’re not wearing a bra, and the peaks of your nipples are visible beneath the thin fabric. your back straightens.
“it died.”
“oh,” ellie says. “did you… charge it?”
“no, i wanted to—i thought maybe i could try something else.” you chew at your lower lip, casting a glance at the wall of toys from which ellie had plucked your vibrating bullet the first time you’d come here. you turn back to ellie just in time to see something dark glimmer in her eyes. she nods.
“yeah, of course. think you’re ready for something more intense? c’mon.” she nods her head towards the toy section, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulder. you follow her and watch as she surveys the wall of toys, the sheer volume of packages just as overwhelming as last time. ellie reaches out for a hot pink box, shiny lettering spelling out Boss Lady across the top. you grimace.
“what kind of name is that for a sex toy?” you quip, reaching for the package. ellie snatches it out of reach.
“ah-ah, sweetheart, don’t doubt the Boss Lady. she packs quite the punch.”
“really, now?” you ask, cocking a brow. “you know from experience?”
ellie just smiles, dimples in her cheeks. “if the name is just too cringy for you, we can find something else. but i recommend her—i think you’ll have lots of fun with her.”
“okay, fine. you pulled my leg.” you reach for the box again, and ellie lets you grab it this time, her gaze on you as you flip the package over and read through some of the metallic pink text adorning the back. the only rabbit vibrator you’ll ever need, it reads. powerful dual stimulation will keep you satisfied!
it occurs to you then, as you follow ellie to the register and dig in your pockets for some cash, that you should probably be embarrassed. here you are, a week after your first ever vibrator purchase, ready to fork over some hard-earned cash for a second one—one with a questionable name, no less. your cheeks warm as ellie regards you from the other side of the register, the heels of her hands pressed to the counter. there’s a knowing look on her face, her lips curled into the faintest hint of a smirk, that dark look from earlier still dancing in her eyes.
god, she probably thinks you’re a sex addict. she totally thinks you’re a sex addict.
“is it weird that i’m back so soon?” you ask, before you can think to filter yourself. ellie’s brows knit together in confusion.
“huh? no, no, not at all—we have plenty of regulars, you know.” she types something into the register, eyes still fixed on you. “i’d say it’s weirder that you’re here at two in the morning.”
you blink. “two?”
“two twenty-one, to be precise.” ellie nods at the clock on the wall, the hour, minute, and second hands made of three different flesh-toned penis cutouts. “but hey, i get it. your vibrator died.”
you clear your throat. “how much do i owe you?”
“hm. well…” ellie drums her fingers on the cash wrap’s countertop. “i’m feeling generous tonight. answer one question for me, and Boss Lady is yours for free.”
“i’m awful at trivia,” you confess.
“trivia? jesus.” ellie barks a surprised laugh. “i’m not—it’s not trivia.”
narrowing your eyes, you shuffle up to the counter and nod. “okay, fine. ask away.”
ellie moves in closer, too, head dipping ever so slightly to allow her to peer down at you. it takes everything in you to keep your eyes from lingering over her frame and drinking in every inch of her: the bold lines of her forearm tattoo, the burn-holes in the collar of her shirt, the faint kiss of freckles on the bridge of her nose. but while you attempt to reign in your wandering gaze, ellie doesn’t hold back. she takes her time looking you over. bites the plush, pink swell of her lower lip.
then: “what were you thinking about?”
“huh?”
“earlier, when you were touching yourself. before the vibrator died. what were you thinking about?”
“that’s your question?” you chew on the inside of your cheek. embarrassment roils in your stomach; she has to know that, while your body writhed in the center of your mattress, cunt twitching and gushing, you’d been thinking of her.
ellie smirks. “you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to.”
“no, it’s… it’s okay,” you murmur. your palms are clammy and you force your gaze to Boss Lady, waiting patiently on the counter for her chance to help you see god. “i was thinking about, um… you, actually.”
you’re still staring at the gaudy pink package on the counter, hands squeezed into fists at your side. you can feel the half-moon indents of your nails digging into your palms, and just as the silence stretches a bit too long for your comfort, ellie laughs.
it’s a wicked thing, a biting sound. all self-satisfaction and enthrallment. you dare to steal a glance at her, and she’s grinning like a maniac, her cheeks tinged the prettiest shade of red.
“can i tell you something?” she asks, stuffing a hand into her pocket and pulling out a wad of cash. her fingers glide over the cash register, clicking at a few buttons, and she slides the money into each respective slot before pushing the drawer closed with a satisfying click. “i’ve been touching myself to the thought of you, too.”
mouth going dry, you gawk at ellie like she’s got four heads; she simply beams at you like she didn’t just admit that she’s thought about you with her hand between her legs. she leans over the counter, one strong hand reaching towards you to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“you seem nervous,” she says.
“i’m—i don’t…” you trail off, cheeks positively flaming.
“tell you what,” ellie begins, retracting her hand. she moves back from the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. your eyes flicker over the whorls of ink that decorate her skin, biceps flexed just so; your cunt throbs. “you can go now, if you want. i won’t stop you.”
“or,” she says, voice dipping low, husky, “you can lock that front door, and i can show you how much fun you can have with your new toy.”
she reaches a hand out and taps the box for emphasis, and you’re struck by how at ease she seems. how comfortable she is with your mutual attraction and the opportunity to act on it. it lights a fire in you, one that engulfs every last trace of doubt.
you lock the front door, of course.
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mrskokushibo · 4 months ago
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Dinner Party
Kyojuro x Sanemi x Tengen&wives x fem!reader
Warnings: Sex, Dirty Smut, MDNI, NSFW, strictly 18+. Group sex . Modern AU. Nearly 5k words Smut. Orgy. Rough oral.
Summary: Sanemi, your husband Kyojuro, and you enjoy dinner with Tengen and his wives at their place. The party ends with...sex. Essentially a pure smut. Enjoy!
Part 2: After Party out now
Masterlist
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As Kyoujuro’s wife, you spent a lot of time with his co-workers. They all worked at a small, tight-knit firm that the three men founded together. Kyoujuro was friends with Tengen and Sanemi long before the two of you met, and they were the first people, even before his parents, that he introduced you to. And they were a lovely bunch. The flamboyant Tengen with his three gorgeous wives and the slightly on-edge Sanemi – a forever bachelor - the guy had much luck with women and yet did not seem to want to settle for anyone.
It was Saturday night and Tengen had you all over for one of his lavish dinners. His wives, Makio, Hinatsuru and Suma were the most gracious of hosts, preparing stunning meals and creating a lovely atmosphere with their bubbly personalities. The house was a modern villa, with a large and stylishly decorated living and dining space all wrapped around a Japanese-inspired closed-in courtyard that housed a garden and an onsen. You all usually stayed late into the night, chatting away, watching movies, and drinking.
The atmosphere tonight was just as friendly, however, something seemed to be on Tengen’s mind all night. He kept on giving you quick glances all through the dinner and lowering his gaze every time you caught him doing it.
After dinner, everyone made themselves comfortable in the large lounge, the girls snuggled up to Tengen, but he kept on looking at you, his gaze baring mischief. Kyoujuro, as always, was a bit too tipsy to even notice what Tengen was doing, he did not drink on a normal basis, so every time he did, he could not really handle it. He leaned his head on your shoulder and said out into the room,
‘Maybe we should go home now y/n, and leave our lovely hosts to enjoy the evening.’
‘Well, Kyo, good that you speak up, I was just about to suggest that you all stay here with us tonight’
The gorgeous white-haired man suddenly said, all the time looking you in the eyes, his movie-star smile was as wide as it got.
‘It is fine. Thanks for the offer, but we can take a taxi home, no need to have us mess up your guest room’ Kyojuro replied.
Tengen threw his head back and laughed.
‘Oh, no, my dear Kyo. Innocent as always.’ He smirked. ‘What I meant is, that you join us for our nightly activities this evening.’
He looked you in the eye again, as in anticipation, and then confronted you with zero shame.
‘What do you say, y/n. Would you mind sharing your husband with my girls?’
You looked at your husband and he was simply too stunned to even react. Before you could answer Tengen, he nodded toward Sanemi
‘How about you? Care for some fun?’
Sanemi smirked ‘You know I am always up for a good fuck.’
Tengen looked back at you and Kyojuro.
‘So, how about you guys?’ question directed more at you than Kyo.
You looked at Kyo whose cheeks were now red as a beet.
‘What do you think?’ you asked him
‘It is up to you, I guess’ he nearly stammered.
You looked back at Tengen and something very basic was waking up in you. His normally charming gaze was also turning darker and you now knew nothing better than to succumb to your baser instincts.
‘I am up for it. Yes, for sure.’
You looked at Kyo, who was staring at you in shock.
‘Baby, you will have fun. You will see. Besides, it would be rude to disappoint our gracious hosts.’ You smiled innocently at him, while your thoughts were anything but.
Tengen stretched out his arm to you and spoke
‘Come here then.’
When you walked up to him, he stood up and said to his wives:
‘Ok, you three have fun with the boys, I want this one to myself first’ With that he grabbed you by the hand and started to lead you away to their bedroom.
In the meantime, Sanemi shamelessly waved in Makio and Hinatsuru to come to him and soon enough the trio was getting on with clothes being ripped off and moans starting to fill the space. Kyoujuro was still seated in the same spot, but now with a visible erection growing in his pants. Suma walked over to him and knelt between his legs.
‘Do not be shy. I will help you relax’ she giggled massaging his clothed dick and making him moan quietly.
You were now being led through the spacious house to Tengen’s bedroom. His large hand holding yours softly and a sweet smile graced his handsome face. Your anticipation was growing with every step, your pussy slowly tightening and wetness forming between your legs. You always admired Tengen’s looks and physique, but honestly always dismissed any dirtier thoughts from lingering for longer than a flash of a second. But now, you were granted the possibility to finally explore and revisit all that you always pushed aside. At last, you reached the bedroom. It was big by normal standards, but not as large as you would imagine, most of it taken up by a huge bed. There were multiple doors leading to what you could make out as two ensuite bathrooms and nothing less but four separate walk-in closets. Walls were adorned with artwork and there was a large tv on the opposite wall. The room smelled of jasmine and other floral notes you did not quite recognise.
Tengen was standing behind you with his hands placed on your shoulders. He pressed himself tightly into your back and leaned down to kiss your neck. His large, muscular body was cradling you perfectly and he had to lean down far to reach your neck due to the considerable size difference between the two of you. You could feel his hard dick pressing into your waist and you started grinding yourself back on him. It felt huge, the hardness against your soft backside making you want to rip his clothes off and fuck him straight away.
His hands were now moving down your neck to your breasts. The feel of his large, warm hands on your exposed neckline was making you so freaking hot. Soon enough he was massaging your breasts with both hands, not being fully satisfied with touching you through your clothes, he reached down into your lowcut top and into your bra, playing gently with your nipples. You were eliciting some very lascivious moans as he took out your boobs from the bra and out of your top. He was tracing your neck and sides of your cheeks with his lips all the while you were bucking your back into his hard-on. He started to remove your top, with skillful hands unclipped your bra and tossed it to the side, and finally slid down your skirt and panties. All you were left wearing were your lace top stay-ups and high-heeled stiletto shoes.
Slowly, he started pushing you lightly, making you move toward the bed. He pushed far enough that you were now leaning over the edge of it supported by your stretched-out arms. He spread your legs wide and went down on his knees behind you spreading your ass cheeks and licking up a quick line along your wet folds. He kept on licking you between your legs with the flat of his tongue, but he needed better access to work more meticulously.
So now, he gently helped you switch positions and you were soon lying flat on your back with legs spread wide for him. He removed his shirt and you gasped at the sight of his naked torso. He grinned widely
‘You like what you see?’
He was very aware of what his looks did to women and found it amusing at times, but without being cocky about it. His fingers were spreading your labia and he focused on rubbing on one side while licking your clit area with slow and light movements of his wet muscle. A finger was drawing circles around the opening of your cunt with him increasing the pressure on the inside of your labia. You were experiencing so much pleasure now, all you could do was close your eyes and moan like a whore.
He kept his movements on you steady and firm, not moving from any spot until your moans were not as loud anymore, skillfully seeking out the next more sensitive spot by listening to your vocal response and the movement of your hips. He was essentially doing what you used to when you masturbated. His pussy eating skills were unmatched. As he felt your arousal intensify, your pussy clenching and spasming more and more he was now narrowing down his movements closer and closer to your clitoris, slowly sending you into overdrive. He was not cruel, however, and feeling you were about to edge, he now applied extra pressure on your clit and worked until you could no longer control yourself, the sensation of needing to pee quickly turning into an avalanche of ecstasy. You squirted all over him and kept on moaning even as you were descending from your high.
He climbed onto the bed next to you and started kissing you, making you taste your own juices.
‘You taste so good, y/n, I cannot get enough of you.’
Your hands were already fumbling with his zipper and soon you were sliding his pants and boxers off. When his dick was exposed, you stopped your action and grabbed hold of it, him doing the rest of the undressing. You were completely mesmerised by its size. Sure, Kyo was not small and you had your fair share of cock before him, but this? This was on another level. Tengen was nearly two meters tall and not directly lanky, with a strong muscular build so his size would most likely be reflected in his dick, but this was more than you ever thought was possible. Nine inches maybe? You swallowed and started slowly to lick him up his shaft, making him sigh in pleasure.
You were licking him and stroking with your hands for a while, lapping up the precum that steadily leaked out of his tip. Opening your mouth wide you started to sink yourself over his dick while pumping the rest of the huge shaft with one hand. He was rubbing you between your folds again, creating new wetness that was now running down your thighs. Come over here ‘he whispered and guided you to sit down on his face.’ You were in a full sixty-nine now. One of your favourite positions.
With a firm grip on your hips, he pulled you down so that you were fully seated on his mouth and started snaking his tongue into you. At the same time, you were now enthusiastically sucking him off, your cheeks hollowing and small gagging sounds coming out of your mouth every time you sank down on his length. He was gentle with your blow job, not bucking his hips nor pushing down your head. He was aware of his size and had enough control and experience to immerse himself in you doing the work for him instead.
His tongue was working relentlessly on your clit, with you bucking your hips back and forth to create more friction. You were edging now, but too focused on giving him pleasure to have your own release again. He must have felt you clench and get wetter as that went straight to his dick, you feeling it twitch, stiffen and a few more sucks later he came into your mouth, filling you up. You swallowed eagerly, the pleasant salty taste of him tantalising your senses. While you were licking him dry, he intensified his pressure on your crotch and you came again. Not a huge orgasm this time, but good enough to make you scream out briefly.
Now you lay next to each other, enjoying the lingering sensation of contentment and the warmth of still pulsing, blood-filled and swollen genitals. His hand was tracing lightly on your folds, smearing all the cum that leaked out of you.
You were now curious about what was going on in the living room… You lifted your head up a little and was listening to the distant sounds of pleasure. Tengen smirked and picked up a remote control. After a moment of fumbling the tv turned on and what came up on the screen was a bird’s eye view of Tengen’s living room.
‘You have cameras in there??’ you asked.
‘Yes, they are security cameras, but I just realised they could come to good use’ he said with a broad grin.
What was happening on the screen was a full-blown orgy.
Sanemi had Makio and Hinatsuru working on his cock, with Hinatsuru sucking his balls and Makio bobbing her head up and down with Sanemi pressing her head down in an unkind manner. His head was thrown back on the headrest and his teeth were gritted in pleasure.
All the while Kyoujuro was frenetically thrusting his hips and cock into Sumas backside who was moaning loud enough to wake up the neighbourhood.
You were staring at the screen with your pussy gradually getting wetter (if that was even possible from how soaked you already were). You were interrupted by Tengen, who was positioned between your legs with the large cock erect once again. Your look must have unveiled your worries as he said in a soft voice
‘It will fit. I promise. You are so wet anyway’. He smiled.
With that, he parted your pussy with his fingers and positioned his tip at the opening, pushing in slowly. The feeling of a cock this size filling you up was making you absolutely wild with arousal. You were moaning for every inch he was gaining on you. His actions were pure perfection, he really had an intimate knowledge of the female body. He could not bottom out yet, his cock simply too huge and your pussy clenching ferociously. But that did not bother him much. You would eventually open more.
He now started gently pumping his dick into you while watching the footage from the living room. He tilted your chin and turned your head toward him and with a delicate stroke to your cheek, he said in a soft but slightly condescending tone.
‘Do you like what you see?’ It was almost a whisper. ‘You are a very dirty girl, aren’t you?’
‘How about we give my girls a break and I call the boys in here for you? I think you might enjoy that…. I do not think you are satiated yet; I can see it in your eyes.’
You swallowed. You knew so well what he had in mind and the thought of all three males giving you this kind of attention made your body basically limp with arousal.
You kept on watching until everyone in the living room climaxed. Tengen pulled out of you, got up and disappeared into the living room. When he appeared on the screen you could hear him tell his wives to relax and put champagne on cooling. He needed the three men in the bedroom with you and him and you all would be a while, but you all would join the ladies in the hot tub for a relaxing soak and champagne afterward. The girls giggled and walked out of the living room.
The screen went empty and a moment later the three men appeared in the bedroom. Kyo with a heavy blush covering his face, the confident Sanemi with a smug smirk and finally Tengen with a peaceful expression in his smiling pink eyes.
‘Well, well, well. Aren’t you a horny one. Sure you wanna take all three of us at once?’
Sanemi blurted out in his usual cocky manner.
‘Did you know she was like this?’ he asked turning to Kyoujuro.
Kyoujuro’s normally gentle eyes started to narrow and you could see he was on the verge of saying something he would regret. Luckily, the tactically minded Tengen, being the older one here, took reign of the situation and said
‘Hey guys, let’s not bicker, we are all consenting adults here. I think we should get to it before your nagging puts y/n off’
he looked at you and when he was sure they could not see his eyes, he rolled his eyes in a conspiratory gesture toward you, something that made you smile through pressed lips and nod your head to him lightly. You were getting very used to his charming demeanour. 
‘Ok, ok. We can get started. Btw, are you ok with taking it up your ass y/n? No offence, but there are three of us here’
Sanemi noted, but got quickly interrupted by Tengen
‘Nemi, seriously, It is up to y/n, however, she has not prepped herself. So no, I can answer on her behalf that that is off-limits tonight. Y/n, do you agree?’
‘Yes, totally.’
Sanemi sighed deeply, almost as if in disappointment. So, he was into anal, hey? You learned something new tonight.
Sanemi was the first to walk up to you, his erect heavy cock bobbing with every step. He knelt down beside you and started massaging your breasts and enclosed his lips on one of your nipples. You started moaning, his massage of your boobs getting more intense and his tongue flicking your nipple faster now.
‘You know, I might just fuck your tits then, since you won’t put up back there’ he said with a grin.
With that, he straddled your torso and positioned his hard dick between your breasts.
‘Now, sweetheart, squeeze them together for me so I can fuck them’
You did as he asked and soon his dick was sliding back and forth between your tits, his leaking tip coming close to your chin with every move forward. In the meantime, you could feel a large finger spread your labia again, Tengen was getting ready to fuck your pussy. You were so wet now, that he did not need any more prep, but instead, you started to feel that enormous dick of his being slowly pushed into you again.  He felt so fucking good and his movements were just perfect. You completely understood how the guy could satisfy three women. Kyoujuro was the last to join, standing next to your face, the blonde was pumping his thick cock next to your mouth, and looking at you with those hungry amber eyes you were so used to. You opened your mouth eagerly and he slowly pressed himself past your lips, your tongue snaking on the incoming length. His hand stroking your hair gently.
‘Fuck, Kyo, she is such a slut, taking us so good. I could though sense her being on the wild side the first time we met, she was too hot to be tame’
Sanemi spoke through gritted teeth, his little dirty monologue stopped by Tengen who flicked his finger at the back of Sanemi’s head.
‘Shut it, Nemi. Just enjoy yourself, will you? But, hey Kyo. Y/n is lovely and if she does not mind, I would love to have an encore of our evening’
He spoke with quite a strained voice now, being engulfed in his own pleasure. Right now, it was only Tengen and Sanemi who were making you weak with pleasure, Tengen’s cock hitting all the right spots with every slow thrust and Sanemi pinching and rolling your nipples with his calloused fingers. You were eliciting muffled moans onto Kyoujuro’s cock, but to be honest, you were not sucking him with much enthusiasm, being so engulfed in what the two white-haired hotties were doing to you.
Suddenly, Kyoujuro grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head backward. The look in his eyes was wild and fierce and he hissed through his teeth:
‘You are neglecting your wifely duties, my dear. I think I must show you how to behave properly.’
With that, he shoved his full length into your mouth making you gag. This really took you by surprise, almost so you did not recognise your so otherwise playful and gentle lover. You looked at him pleadingly, but he did not seem to care, continuing to thrust into you while holding your hair tight. You were completely at the three men’s mercy, taking whatever they were giving to you, and thanks to Tengen you were receiving a lot. The pressure in your belly was increasing and you were now edging. You tapped Sanemi on the arm
‘squeeze the other nipple too, please Nemi’
He smirked and granted your wish. The action of his rough hands on your hard buds was what was needed to push you over the edge and you climaxed, your scream only muffled by Kyojuro’s cock inside your mouth. The spasming of your pussy was now too much for Tengen as well, and soon enough your clenching muscles milked him hard and  you felt the warmth of his cum inside you. When he pulled out, you felt so empty, you pulled away from Kyojuro’s cock and tried to look around Sanemi to send your plea to Tengen, but right then it was Sanemi’s turn to orgasm and you were met with thick ropes of semen spraying your face and landing in your open mouth.
Kyojuro was now really annoyed, once again having your attention stolen like this. He shifted his position so that he was facing you just behind the top of your head where you were lying down and then hovered himself over you, with his hips over your face and his face toward your belly. His heavy dick now hanging down in your face, he tilted your head slightly backward and pushed himself in your mouth with the intention to mouth fuck you properly. He was fast and rough, almost choking you. His grunts were hoarse and deep. This was not the most comfortable fucking you experienced, to be honest, and you were surprised by his sudden roughness.
Luckily for you, Tengen dove between your legs and started teasing your now overstimulated clit. His licks and massage were just as good as the first time he made you come. You were slowly adjusting to Kyojuro’s actions and focused solely on enjoying what Tengen was doing to you, him now flicking your clit faster and faster until you dissolved in another orgasm, squirting all over his handsome face. He smiled and lapped up as much as he could of your juices. The sight of all this must have finally been too much for Kyo, who now actioned a sloppy thrust and emptied his balls deep into your throat.
His load must have been huge as when he pulled out a fair bit leaked out onto your cheek. You were too fucked out to even notice that your face and neck were literally smeared with cum. You just laid there in bliss. Sanemi and Kyoujuro were both also lying on their backs in the large bed, panting. Tengen though was too considerate to leave you hanging. He walked up to you and lifted you up in his arms.
‘You look like you need a shower’ and carried you to the bathroom.
‘Can you stand up?’
Surprisingly, you could.
‘Good. I am glad to see that you can.’
He turned on the shower and when he deemed the temperature to be just right, he led you in there and embraced you, whispering into your ear
‘Just so you know, I really, really want to see more of you like this. I mean it’
You looked into his enchanting eyes and felt like this would be a lovely arrangement.
After you showered you joined the group in the onsen and all of you enjoyed the rest of the night with champagne and conversation flowing freely.
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Banners by @adornedwithlight and @cafekitsune
Tagging: @muzansfangs @doumadono @horror4themasses
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radiant-reid · 4 months ago
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Reunion
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Summary: JJ never knew you were dating one of her teammates and that you broke up because of her, but seeing him at JJ's wedding years later changes things.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Angst then smutttt)
Content Warning: 18+ Smut (oral- f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, a little bit of a breeding kink)
Word Count: 2.1k
"So, how's mystery boy?"
After skipping your usual Tuesday night plans twice, thanks to JJ being away on cases, you're finally back in your best friend's living room having a glass of wine and a cheese platter.
It's been an abnormal amount of time to go without seeing each other since you both ended up in DC after moving out of East Allegheny to different colleges. Even with men in the mix now, you both make it a priority to see each other as often as possible. However, her busy schedule and frequent flights to New Orleans have meant you've spent some time apart.
Unknown to her, she knows the so-called mystery boy. Very well, in fact. "He's well." You say slyly, unable not to grin widely.
JJ throws her head back dramatically. "Come on, Y/n! Some detail would be nice."
"It's good." You try again. "He's the sweetest. I'm very happy."
She smirks, letting you know an interesting question is coming your way. "How's the sex?"
It never takes more than a glass of wine for her to be that loose. You don't miss a beat in your answer. "Fabulous."
"Okay, so can I meet him soon?" She pushes like she has been for quite some time.
You wonder what she would think. What would her expression do if you were to say his name out loud right here? Maybe it's not that deep but getting with JJ's closest colleague is dangerous. It was a concern at the start, a reason not to start, but you fell in love with Spencer Reid quicker than you could ever imagine.
"Sure, JJ." You agree, trying to look positively about it. You can only assume she's thinking about the worst possible scenario about your mystery man. He's a criminal or he's far too old for you or he's an ex you promised not to get back with. There are too many options.
She looks triumphant. "Yes!"
You just smile, sending the conversation in a different direction by asking about her boyfriend. He sounds like a great guy and you can tell she's happier than ever before.
Three months ago you met Spencer Reid. It was JJ's birthday and your duty as her best friend to throw her a fun surprise party. That took some coordination with a friend from work. Firstly, that was Penelope, but in order to lure JJ, you needed Spencer Reid. He was a little slow with replying to your texts, but lovely. And after you met him, you were hooked.
Spencer was perfect. Gorgeous, funny, intelligent. His incredible shyness had you confused when he asked you out for dinner the next morning.
Too many espresso martinis provide an explanation for why JJ has no recollection of you flirting with him all night.
You see Spencer as much as you can, but similar to JJ's, his schedule often doesn't allow for consistent visits. So whatever time you do have, you make the most of it. He's still the most amazing boyfriend you've had. Kind, caring, witty, fun, and playful.
He gets whisked away on a case to Miami not long after being home. You didn't know things would be so different the next time you saw him.
He goes quiet on you. You know their cases are intense but you haven't heard from him in an entire week and that's not right.
Can I come over? He finally texts you and you're guessing he's back in DC.
It sounds a little ominous and the message sends a chill down your spine. Sure. I can't wait to see you. There isn't a reply and you sit in limbo in your apartment for almost an hour before he knocks at the door.
You smile when you open it, although you're slightly annoyed there was zero communication or ETA from him. "Hey, Spence, how was it?"
"You knew." He says in a cold, accusatory tone. It's nothing you've ever heard from him.
"Sorry?" You repeat, moving to the side so he can come into your apartment.
He steps in, barely looking at you. "About JJ and Will." He explains.
A little frown takes over your expression. Surely he's not angry that he only just found out. An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "Sorry, Spence. She didn't want anyone knowing."
"I'm your boyfriend!" He exclaims. "You're not supposed to lie to me."
"I didn't." You join the offensive, crossing your arms. You're not enthused about what he's accusing you of. It wasn't even your secret to tell him.
He looks disappointed, face dropping. "Come on." He sighs. "How am I meant to be with you if you don't trust me enough to tell me who our friend is dating?"
"It wasn't my secret to tell." You try to talk some reason into him, pushing down that sick feeling in your stomach telling you that he's breaking up with you.
Spencer shakes his head, his decision- as much as it's killing him- completely made. "I can't do this."
His words make your world come crashing down and you almost can't believe it. You slump to the couch while he makes his way to the door with sad, slow footsteps.
He's looking at you, waiting for you to ask him to say. "Can we not tell JJ?" You ask softly.
"Fine." That's the last thing he tells you before walking out the door, shutting it firmly.
That's it.
The last thing Spencer tells you.
Then he's gone from your life. You talk about him less to JJ and she picks up on what happened and stops asking about him.
You expect to see him when Henry's born, or even at a point in his life. Somehow, you don't. Your schedules never line up and then JJ switches jobs. There's a myriad of reasons but it doesn't happen. You both go on with separate lives.
And then JJ and Will are getting married. You get a frantic call from your best friend's soon-to-be-husband who whispers secret plans to you over the phone. It's perfect, you know JJ will adore the simplicity and elegance of a backyard wedding.
You're there as soon as you can be, helping set up Rossi's backyard so it's gorgeous for the most gorgeous person you know.
You're the maid of honor, of sorts. And you don't get a chance to ask who the best man is before JJ arrives and the ceremony begins.
You strike out as soon as you spot a tall brunette. A tall brunette who made you the happiest you've ever been with a man. And he's still just as handsome.
His eyes bulge when he sees you but he keeps a straight face and clenches his teeth while the ceremony continues. You're mostly focused on how beautiful JJ looks and how sweet their wedding is, but you can't help your mind drifting to Spencer.
You hadn't seen him dressed up like this when you were dating and the tuxedo is a perfect look on him.
"Y/n." He comes up to you when you're getting yourself a glass of champagne.
"Spencer." You reply. His tone doesn't let much about how he's feeling on. All you get is a glimmer of shock.
He stands against the table. "Maid of honor?"
You shrug, a little confused at his question. "You know, I'm surprised I haven't seen you all these years." You admit, letting some honesty slip.
"It was slightly intentional." He offers.
You don't let it offend you. "Best man?"
"I think that means we're supposed to sleep together."
You nearly spit out your sip of wine. There's no way the shy Spencer Reid you once knew just said that.
"We've done that." You reply, trying to keep a straight face after the out-of-pocket comment.
Spencer tilts his head to the side. "You're right."
You really don't know how it happens. Maybe it's a few too many drinks. There's definitely not enough alcohol in your bloodstream to solely blame that. Spencer Reid is as hot as they get. And it's been... longer than you're willing to admit since you've had sex. Even longer since it was good sex.
So there isn't anything telling you to stop when Spencer pushes you up against the door of a room in Rossi's house, lips firmly against yours.
Your dress is hiked up around your waist while his fingers trace up and down your thigh before he even thinks about locking the door. Both of you are far too wrapped up in the moment to think securely.
His hands are quick to the zip of your dress, sliding it down effortlessly and letting it pool at your feet. He takes a moment to look at you and you have to admit, you're a little worried about his reaction. You don't doubt Spencer Reid can pull beautiful women.
"God, you're gorgeous." He says softly, juxtaposing the way he's practically clawing your clothes off you.
"Are you going to compliment me or fuck me like you promised you would?" You ask him, waltzing over to the bed and sitting on the edge.
Spencer smirks at your smart mouth. "You asked for it."
He's kneeling on the floor in front of the bed in seconds, with no regard for his suit pants being wrinkled, just on his knees. There's a sense of urgency that doesn't allow for the time for him to take your panties off so he opts for shifting them to the side.
There's also no time to waste as his tongue melds with your folds, tracing patterns. No one has ever come close to giving head like Spencer does. It's truly mindblowing, the pressure of his tongue and the suction method he uses. You're instantly in bliss, head thrown back against the covers as you moan.
You've lost it when his fingers enter you, pushing past with little resistance. "Holy shit, Spencer. You're incredible."
"Sing my praises." He says against your pussy.
You do. Not even possessing the ability to be embarrassed about it.
And you don't stop. You're withering and moaning on the bed, tugging his curls while he continues pleasing you. Eventually, it's too much. His fingers pumping in and out of you combined with his tongue wrapped around your clit have you finishing in no time.
"Still as good as I remember." As if he couldn't get any hotter, he sucks his fingers into his mouth.
Spencer rises from his knees, now much taller than you. You tug your underwear off before unclipping your bra. "Fuck me, Spencer." You reach out for his belt buckle, toying with it. "Please."
Spencer has lost the shy, timid nature he had the first few times you had sex and he quickly takes off his belt and pants. Once his suit jacket is tossed across the room, Spencer pulls your legs to the end of the bed, making sure you wrap your ankles around his waist. His hands rest on either side of your head and you're precisely where you want to be.
"You're so hot." You tell him with a smirk.
He grins, spreading your legs and inching inside you. The look on his face is an instant confidence boost. Clearly, he's a man in bliss, head thrown back and tongue parting his lips.
"Fuck." He pants.
You agree, barely able to speak from how hard he's pounding you and how good it feels. Although it's annoying to admit, you've never had as good sex as with Spencer.
Your hands wrap around his forearms, noticeably bigger than last time. "Spencer." You moan. "Please. So good."
He caresses your chest, paying attention to your boobs like he hadn't before. "Y/n." He groans, not slowing his pace up. His hips snap against yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the room. "Can I?" He asks.
It's unlike you to have even let him start without protection but you're not thinking straight enough. All you know is you need Spencer. "Please."
He finishes as deep inside you as he can get, leaning down to kiss you softly. You're breathless like he is when he flops down next to you.
One of Spencer's palms touches your cheek, forcing you to look at him rather than the ceiling. "Hey, pretty girl." He says softly and it makes your heart flip in a way it shouldn't. "Can I take you on a date, Y/n?"
The smile creeping onto your face can't be helped. "Yes. Please."
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venus-haze · 7 months ago
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Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)
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Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.
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You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.
“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.
“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”
“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.
Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.
“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”
“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“
“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”
You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”
“Pick your poison.”
“Whiskey?”
“Sure.”
At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right. 
He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To taking next week off.”
“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”
You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”
“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”
You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.
“I might need some convincing.”
“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.
You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”
“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”
Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor. 
“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”
With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.
He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”
And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.
“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”
He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.
“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“What was that?” 
You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” 
His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.
It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk. 
Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth. 
“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.
“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”
“What are you gonna do to me?”
“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”
You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”
“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”
“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release. 
He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust. 
You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.
You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.
“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”
“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”
“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“
You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”
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tsuutarr · 14 days ago
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Yandere!childhood friend x reader
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“Hey, can I talk to you?” a classmate in one of your university classes calls out. He’s blushing, looking completely flustered. You’d have found it cute, really, but there are several factors that make you want to groan.
One, you’re not in a good mood right now. And two–
“You’re friends with that pretty girl, right? Jieun? Uhm. Can I get her number?”
He’s not confessing to you. 
You bite back a sigh. “Look, I can’t just give out my friend’s number like that–”
“But–”
“Darling!” you’re interrupted as someone clings onto your arm. They intertwine their fingers with yours, giving your classmate an icy smile. “I’m so sorry, but we have plans.”
“Oh, t–that’s fine!” your classmate exclaims, voice cracking. He looks at your friend, completely enamored. “But, uh, can I get your–”
Before your classmate can finish his sentence, your friend has already dragged you away. 
Soon, you’re seated in a cute coffee shop your friend had found earlier that week.
“I can’t believe that guy was confessing to you,” your friend scoffs, taking a sip of their matcha latte. “You’re so out of his league.”
“He was actually asking me for your number,” you respond, making your friend’s eyes widen.
“Me?” There’s genuine surprise on your friend’s face as they clasp their manicured hands. “Well, I suppose my makeup skills are pretty amazing.”
“Yeah, it’s always surprising that you can go from Jiu to Jieun and back so easily.” 
And you mean it – your childhood friend, Jiu Oh, has built up his life as his father’s perfect son. Yet, at the same time, he has a secondary identity – Jieun – that he uses whenever he wants to indulge in cute things and fashion, things his father thinks no man should ever have an interest in.
“It’s pretty fun,” Jiu hums, twirling a long strand of his pink wig on his finger. His pretty lips stretch into a smile. “You should let me doll you up sometime, too. Only if you want to, though. You’re already beautiful as you are.”
You give him a bitter smile, a sigh leaving your lips. “If only my ex-boyfriend thought that, too…”
Jiu gasps. “You guys broke up?”
“Yeah.” With a few taps of your phone, you pull up the chat between you and another friend. There, right on the screen, is your ex-boyfriend on a date with a blonde woman.
“I can’t believe it. He cheated on you?” Jiu looks at you, his perfectly styled eyebrows furrowed. “I knew he was trash.”
“Yeah, you were right. I guess I just…” your voice drops to a whisper, making Jiu gently hold your hand.
“Aw, darling – it’s not your fault. It’s that trash’s fault for cheating on you.” Gently, he gives your hand a soft squeeze. “How about we hang out tonight? To take your mind off of things? We can watch your favorite movies and bake something? And I’ll do your nails!”
“...You know what, yeah. That sounds good,” you agree, feeling lighter. Time spent with Jiu is always fun, after all.
“Wonderful! I’ll prepare everything and text you when I’m ready!” Jiu grins. “Ooh, you’ll love the new bath bomb I got!”
His enthusiasm is infectious and you can’t help but smile. Yeah, who cares about your shitty ex when you have a great friend like Jiu?
What you don’t know, though, is that the blonde woman in the photo is Jiu. He had carefully orchestrated everything so that you’d break up with your boyfriend.
You also don’t know that he has tabs on you at all times – whether it’s by your phone or the people around you. You don’t know that the whole reason you got into your university in the first place is because of Jiu.
Jiu’s control over your life extends even beyond that, too. It’s impossible to know the full extent of the control he has over your life and maybe you never will – not when you’re his, anyway.
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zriasstuff · 7 months ago
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Them watching you get ready <3
Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)
the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now
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It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…
Tom Riddle:
Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)
He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking
Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes
While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine
When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management
Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)
Mattheo Riddle:
He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready
When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one
He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)
During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red
As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated
When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”
Draco Malfoy:
When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts
Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him
Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her
So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories
He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”
Theodore Nott:
He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too
You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him
When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body
That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too
It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time
Blaise Zabini:
He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity
He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”
Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did
He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest
As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty
Lorenzo Berkshire:
When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually
So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process
Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)
To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be
Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven
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urdreamgirls-dreamgirl · 10 months ago
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is it casual now?, pt. one
pt. two
dumb love, i love being stupid, dream of us in a year. maybe we’d have an apartment and you’d show me off to your friends at the pier. i know, “baby, no attachment,” but we’re… knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?
“but like… why not just tell him?” robin asks. they’re laying on their backs on steve’s floor, side by side, legs tangled together while a fleetwood record spins out the low sounds of stevie nicks’s voice. “you’re already banging, so what’s the point? you’re practically dating.”
“what? no.” steve replies, taking one last hit from the joint they’ve been passing back and forth before handing it back to robin so she can drop it into the ashtray near her elbow. “it’s not dating. it’s strictly sexual.”
“you’ve never in your life been strictly sexual with anyone,” robin snorts.
steve scowls. this is kind of a sore subject for him because yeah. he’s never done this casual thing before and he’s never really wanted to. he doesn’t even really want to now.
he’s silent for so long that robin’s perfectly capable of understanding exactly what he’s thinking. “oh,” she breathes out. “oh no.”
“stop, please. it was mutual.” steve doesn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.
“okay. yeah. sure.” steve hates how much she sounds like she’s trying to placate him.
“it’s really not a big deal. it’s fine. we’re having fun. i’m having fun.” steve’s embarrassed by how rehearsed he sounds.
“yeah, no, totally. for sure.”
they lay there without speaking again for a long time after that.
~*~
“god, you’re so cute, stevie, cooking me breakfast.” steve’s standing in front of the stove in his kitchen a few days later when eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, nuzzling into steve’s neck. steve can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.
“don’t get too used to it,” steve tells him, plating the first batch of french toast. “woke up early enough to eat before work for the first time in, like, three months.”
“well i appreciate it,” eddie says, letting steve turn in his arms. steve can’t help himself; he leans in for a kiss and eddie returns it enthusiastically.
eddie’s never spent the night like this before. usually he’s out of the house before steve wakes up in the morning. most of the time he leaves before they even have the chance to fall asleep together. steve tries not to take it too personally. eddie’s a busy guy and what they’re doing is nothing serious. eddie had been sure to make that clear the first few times they’d seen each other naked.
steve tries not to read too much into it as eddie takes the plate from his hands and pulls himself up to sit on the island countertop just across from where steve’s leaning next to the stove with his own plate. he tries not to get his hopes up but he can’t help the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach as they eat breakfast together before he has to go to work. he tries his best to ignore the pull he feels toward eddie, the way his hands itch to plant themselves on eddie’s hips and pull him in. he pushes down the disappointment that arises when eddie changes out of the sweats he’d clearly taken from steve’s dresser drawers and back into his own clothes. he ignores the tiny little pang in his chest when eddie says goodbye and leaves, even though steve has to leave for work in ten minutes anyway. he tries to ignore the little voice in his head that points out that eddie doesn’t even kiss him goodbye.
~*~
it goes on like that for a while. eddie starts spending enough nights at steve’s house that steve can’t help but become hopeful. he has his own green toothbrush sitting right next to steve’s red one on his bathroom sink. his hair has started to smell like steve’s shampoo. eddie’s stopped insisting that they’re just casual every time steve leans in for a kiss. sometimes they don’t even fuck, they just fall asleep together watching a movie, with the tv playing softly in the background.
steve’s not delusional. he knows that it’s not a relationship. but that hope is back and he’s helpless against its forces building inside him every time he says goodbye to eddie at his front door. his t-shirts have started going missing, ones with hawkins high emblazoned across the front, ones that he knows robin wouldn’t be caught dead in. eddie’s the only one who could be taking them, but steve can’t figure out why he’s being so secretive about it. he still hasn’t been able to catch him at it. but it has to mean something, right?
steve starts to let himself fantasize about what could happen if he just confessed to eddie. if he just admitted, once and for all, that he’d never wanted to do this whole friends with benefits thing that eddie’s been insisting on. he’s not totally sure that eddie would be a hundred percent receptive, but it’s only happening in his own brain, so he can have the ending he wants for now.
“jesus, dingus, what the hell is going on with you lately?” robin asks, sounding irritated as she comes to stand next to him behind the counter at family video. “i’ve been trying to get your attention for ten minutes.”
“what? sorry.” steve drags a hand across his face. “just thinking.”
“oh really,” robin snorts. “about what?”
“just…” steve sighs. “remember when we were talking a few months ago?”
robin raises her eyebrows at him.
“i mean, you know. about eddie.” his voice drops into a whisper at the end, as if eddie might be hiding behind one of the vhs displays, even though it’s a tuesday morning and the two of them are alone in the store.
“oh. yes. i remember.” robin sounds just a tiny bit apprehensive.
“well… i think something’s changed.”
“changed? how?”
“i mean, he’s started sleeping over my house a lot more. sometimes we don’t even… you know. have sex.” he whispers the last two words, looking over his shoulder. “i think he’s stealing my t-shirts.”
“okay,” robin draws out the second syllable, elongating the ‘a’ sound, making it clear that steve has to be a bit more specific.
“do you think he… i don’t know. do you think maybe he wants something more? like, maybe to date? or like, whatever.” steve runs a hand through his hair nervously. this is the first time he’s admitting he wants something more out loud.
robin considers for a long moment. “honestly, i don’t know. i’ve never made it past kissing anyone before.” steve’s shoulders slump. “but there’s only one real way to find out.”
“how?” steve grunts, even though he already knows the answer.
“you gotta talk to him, man.” steve groans. “i know, dingus. it sucks.” she reaches out to rub his back, an attempt at comfort.
it almost works.
~*~
steve thinks about it for a few days. about three weeks ago, eddie had started kissing him goodbye every time they parted ways at steve’s front door and he hasn’t missed a goodbye kiss yet. that has to mean something. it has to.
it’s a movie night—eddie’s choice—when steve finally gathers the courage to say something to him.
“can i talk to you?” steve says, sounding far more confident than he actually feels. he’s pulled his legs up under himself on the couch and turned sideways to stare at eddie’s profile.
“um, yeah,” eddie replies a bit distractedly, eyes glued to the tv screen as he reaches for the remote next to him. he pauses the film and only then does he turn to face steve. he smiles, dimples showing. “what’s up, stevie? i don’t pause the thing for just anyone.”
that makes steve feel a little less nervous. it feeds the hope in his chest. he runs a hand through his hair. “okay, well. i was thinking about, like, what we’re doing.”
“what we’re doing?” eddie tilts his head to the side just a little, looking confused.
“yeah, like. you know. you’ve said you want to keep things casual but i was thinking that maybe we could…” steve trails off, unsure of how to continue.
“we could…?” eddie prompts, but he’s starting to look a little apprehensive.
“i mean, i know you said that you don’t really do the non-casual type of thing or whatever, but i was thinking like. i don’t know, that we could, like, go on a date? maybe?” steve hates how unsure he sounds at the end, how his voice turns up at the end.
eddie just looks at him for a long moment. “i thought we were on the same page, steve.”
okay, he’s not ‘stevie’ anymore, but maybe this is just a miscommunication.
“we were,” steve responds, swallowing hard. “i mean, we are. i think.” then he corrects himself. “or, uh, thought.” he looks down at his hands for a second and takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i really like you, eddie. and i want… i don’t know what i want but i know that i like you a lot. and i don’t want to be just friends who sleep together.”
“so,” eddie speaks slowly, still looking just a bit confused, “you don’t want to sleep together anymore.” he doesn’t really say it like a question, more like he’s not really all that surprised.
“no, i mean…” steve’s feeling just a little frustrated with himself. “i like that part. that part’s, like, really good. i just… i want more than that.” he runs his hand through his hair again. “i… i guess want to be your boyfriend.”
eddie laughs then and it makes steve’s chest feel hollow. eddie must see something on steve’s face because his laugh cuts off abruptly. “sorry, man. you’re serious?” eddie sounds almost disbelieving. steve can only nod, his throat tight. he definitely does not want to cry in front of eddie right now. “oh. well. um. i don’t really…” steve’s heart drops and the little bubble of hope that had been building since that first time eddie had stayed for breakfast abruptly bursts. “i’m sorry, dude, i genuinely thought we were on the same page. i’m not—that’s just—” eddie clears his throat. “that’s just not really something i want.”
steve has nothing to say to that. he supposes that eddie had been honest from the beginning and that he was the one who hadn’t been truthful so he can’t even really be mad.
“right,” steve responds, avoiding eddie’s eyes. “sure, okay.”
“i think i’m gonna go for now. but i’ll see you around, okay, stevie?” steve’s eyes snap up to eddie’s face and eddie’s eyes are wide and panicked. he looks like a cornered deer. a part of steve can’t help but feel sorry for putting that look on eddie’s face.
“yeah, okay. see you.” steve tries to smile at him, maybe to reassure him, but eddie doesn’t even look at him as he gathers his shoes and keys before leaving.
once eddie’s gone, steve sits there for a long moment, wondering where he’d gone wrong. maybe he should have waited until a little bit later, when they were upstairs tangled up together and he could distract eddie with kisses. maybe he should have waited until breakfast, when eddie’s soft and sweet, warm from sleep. maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.
steve turns off the tv and goes upstairs to bed alone for the first time in a while.
there’s a part two already half written so no worries, i only write happy endings (except that one time).
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neferaskingdom · 1 month ago
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♡ Closetgate: The Max-tastrophe | MV1
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]
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Summary: Max finds himself in a very tight situation—literally. Lando is summoned for an emergency extraction, Charles serenades about honor, Y/N fights for her life trying to prove that nothing happened and the boys plan Max's funeral, but hey at least they finally kissed?
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Part 4 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series: Masterlist
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Y/N never expected this to happen. One moment, she was causing chaos on Instagram with that elevator pic—harmless fun, right? But Max’s confession came out of nowhere, and now she was standing in her apartment, heart pounding.
She barely had time to process the fact that she’d just invited Max over, let alone get ready. Y/N looked down at her oversized, mismatched pajama set, which sported a giant, ridiculous “I Paused My Game to Be Here” T-shirt. Definitely not the “I’ve just confessed to liking my childhood rival” look she was going for.
She barely had time to question her life choices before there was a knock at the door. When she opened it, Max stood there, leaning against the doorframe like he wasn’t about to change everything. He gave her that classic smirk, but something felt different tonight—softer, more uncertain.
“Did you run here or teleport?” she asked, unable to hide her surprise.
“I might have broken a few traffic laws,” he joked, walking in like he hadn’t just sprinted across town. He glanced around her apartment, then at her, still wearing her gaming shirt. "Nice shirt, by the way," he smirked.
She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Verstappen. I didn’t expect you to break the sound barrier to get here.” Max chuckled, plopping down on her couch like he belonged there. "You texted, I ran. It's the natural order of things."
"You actually came," she blurted, mostly because she didn’t know what else to say. The second the words left her mouth, she realized how ridiculous they sounded. "You told me to," Max shot back, stepping inside without missing a beat. "What, did you think I’d say no?"
"I don’t know! Maybe?" she stammered, closing the door behind him. "This whole thing is weird!" 
"Weird how?" Max turned to face her, looking genuinely confused. "Because I confessed or because you didn’t see it coming?"
Y/N groaned, throwing her hands up. "Both! Max, we’ve spent most of our lives arguing over who’s funnier and which one of us sucks more. And now you’re telling me you like me? You don’t just drop that bomb and act like everything’s normal!"
Max shrugged, trying to act casual, but there was something in his eyes that made Y/N’s stomach flip. "I’m not saying it’s normal. I’m saying it’s real. We joke around because that’s us. But I like you, Y/N. I’ve liked you for years. I just didn’t want to mess up what we had."
Y/N’s mind was racing. She couldn’t reconcile the Max in front of her with the one who used to relentlessly call her out on social media. “So, what? You’ve been secretly into me while roasting me all these years? And I’m just supposed to be like, ‘Yeah, cool, let’s date now?’”
Max smiled, but it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. It was softer, more vulnerable. "I get it. It sounds insane. But I’m serious. When I saw that post, Y/N… I thought you had someone else. And it hit me harder than I expected. I realized I didn’t want to just be the guy you bicker with online. I wanted more than that."
She stared at him, still processing. "So, you’re telling me this now because of one random photo?"
"It wasn’t just the photo," Max said, stepping closer. "It was the idea that I’d waited too long. That I might have missed my shot."
Her heart skipped a beat. This was getting real, fast. Y/N crossed her arms, more to protect herself from the flood of emotions than anything else. "Max… I don’t know what to say."
Max chuckled lightly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck—a nervous habit she’d noticed over the years. "You don’t have to say anything. I just couldn’t keep pretending anymore."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. There was something so raw and honest about him right now, and it was messing with her. This was Max—her partner in social media wars, her favorite person to annoy. And now, he was standing in her living room, confessing feelings that she didn’t know how to handle.
Finally, she let out a breathy laugh. "You’re really bad at timing, you know that? I was just getting used to us hating each other."
Max’s smile widened. "We never hated each other, Y/N."
"Sure felt like it sometimes," she muttered, though there was no bite behind her words. She was too busy trying to sort through the tangled mess of emotions in her head.
"Come on," he teased softly. "You know we’ve always had a thing."
"A thing?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so insulting each other in public and trolling each other on Instagram was just our way of flirting?"
Max stepped closer, and this time, there was no teasing in his voice. "For me, yeah. That’s always been part of it. But it’s more than that."
Max says with a shrug. “I like you because you're chaotic and you keep me on my toes. Plus, I figured all the teasing was basically foreplay.”
Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!” She grabbed a throw pillow and launched it at him. “That is not how that works!”
Max laughed, catching the pillow and tossing it aside. “Hey, if it’s not, it should be! We’ve been bantering for years—it’s basically flirting with extra steps.”
She facepalmed, letting out a frustrated groan. “This is so not how I expected this conversation to go. You’re taking all of this way too casually!”
Y/N’s heart was beating so loud she was sure he could hear it. "Max, this is a lot. I didn’t… I didn’t expect this."
"I know." His voice was soft now, almost unsure. "But I had to tell you. I’ve been holding it in for so long, and I thought—"
"That you’d shoot your shot now?" she cut in, trying to lighten the mood even though her head was spinning.
He grinned, finally relaxing a bit. "Exactly. You can’t blame me for that, right?"
She bit her lip, trying to hide a smile. "I guess not. But… Max, I—"
He raised a hand, stopping her. "You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted to be honest. For once."
Y/N sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. "But here’s the thing… I kinda, sorta like you too." The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she immediately wanted to crawl into a hole.
Max blinked, then his smile widened into something she’d never seen before—completely genuine and warm. "Kinda, sorta, huh?"
She rolled her eyes, though her heart was flipping. "Don’t make this weird."
"Too late," Max said, stepping even closer, his voice playful but soft. "You’ve already made it weird."
Y/N groaned. "You’re impossible."
"And you like me anyway," Max shot back with a grin, his face just inches from hers now.
Y/N sighed, her defenses finally crumbling as she looked up at him. "Yeah, I guess I do."
Y/N sat down beside him, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. She looked at him—his stupid grin, his messy hair, his absolute lack of any chill—and suddenly it all clicked. This wasn’t some weird joke or prank. Max actually meant every word.
"Okay," she said slowly, still processing. "But I reserve the right to make fun of you for the rest of our lives."
Max grinned, scooting closer. “Deal. But you should know, I’m not backing down. Now that I’ve made my move, I’m all in.”
“God, you’re so dramatic,” Y/N muttered, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Well, you kinda like me that way,” he teased.
“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes. But deep down, she knew he was right.
Before she could say anything else, Max leaned down, his lips brushing hers in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that swept her off her feet or made fireworks explode, but it was perfect. It was exactly what she didn’t know she needed.
When he pulled back, he was still smiling, his hand lingering on her cheek. "Told you we’ve always had a thing."
Y/N was too flustered to argue, her mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. "Okay," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "But don’t think this changes anything. I’m still gonna kick your ass at karting ."
Max chuckled, pulling her into his arms. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."
They kissed again, and this time it was longer, more intense. Y/N felt herself melting into Max’s arms, his hands gently resting on her waist as he pulled her closer. She could feel the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips as her hands slid up to his chest. His lips were soft but insistent, and there was a tenderness in the way he kissed her, as if he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than she had imagined.
Her hands slipped up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and Max responded instantly, deepening the kiss in a way that made her head spin. For a few blissful seconds, all the banter, the teasing, and the chaos of their lives disappeared, leaving only the two of them and the unspoken tension that had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.
When they finally pulled apart, slightly breathless, Y/N looked up at him, trying to steady her pounding heart. Max's lips were still curved into a small, satisfied smile, and his thumb absentmindedly traced the side of her hip.
“You know,” she started, trying to regain her composure, “if you’re going to stay, I could, uh, make some space on the couch.”
Max raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning in full force. “You want me to spend the night?”
Her face heated instantly, but she refused to let him see her squirm. “Don’t get too excited, Verstappen.” She poked him in the chest, narrowing her eyes playfully. “No funny business. It’s gonna take a hell of a lot more than a last-minute confession for me to invite you to my bed.”
Max chuckled, his laugh low and sending a ripple of warmth down her spine. He leaned in, his voice dropping to that maddening, teasing tone she was starting to realize she might actually like. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on funny business, Y/N.” His lips brushed her ear, making her shiver slightly. “I’m gonna wine and dine you, take my time. By the time I’m done, you’ll be begging me to come to bed.”
Y/N’s eyes widened at his words, and she smacked his arm, trying to play it cool, though her heart was practically doing somersaults. “Begging?” she repeated, a disbelieving laugh escaping her. “You’ve officially lost your mind.”
Max, completely unbothered, grinned like the cat who caught the canary. “Keep telling yourself that.”
“God, I’m going to regret this,” Y/N muttered, though a smile tugged at her lips.
“Only if I don’t get the chance to prove you wrong,” Max shot back smoothly, his arm casually wrapping around her waist as if they’d done this a hundred times before.
Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through her. “Fine. You get the couch. And maybe—maybe—we’ll see about that whole wining and dining thing later.”
Max leaned back, stretching out on the couch with that same cocky grin. “Challenge accepted.”
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Text Message between Y/N and Lando:
y/n: LANDO I’M GONNA DIE. y/n: LIKE ACTUAL DEATH. COME TO MY APARTMENT NOW.
lando: huh??? lando: it’s 8am, woman chill lando: also why is this my problem
y/n: CHARLES IS HERE y/n: HE SHOWED UP AT 7AM AND HASN’T SHUT UP FOR AN HOUR y/n: He’s on a WHOLE monologue about "family honor" y/n: I AM GOING TO JUMP OUT THE WINDOW IF YOU DON’T HELP ME
lando: and again lando: why… is this my problem? 💀
y/n: BECAUSE MAX IS HIDING IN MY CLOSET, LANDO y/n: IF CHARLES FINDS HIM HERE, I’M GONNA NEED TO WRITE A EULOGY y/n: HELP
lando: … lando: hold up HOLD UP MAX IS WHERE NOW???
y/n: CLOSET. MAX IS IN THE CLOSET. y/n: LIKE. LITERALLY HIDING IN MY CLOSET RIGHT NOW BECAUSE CHARLES IS RANTING ABOUT THE ELEVATOR PICTURE
y/n: AND IF CHARLES FINDS HIM HERE HE’LL LITERALLY COMMIT MURDER!!!
y/n: HURRY UP AND GET HERE I NEED A DISTRACTION y/n: HE’S GOING TO KILL US BOTH AND THEN DRAG OUR BODIES THROUGH THE STREETS OF MONACO
lando: LMFAOOO NOT MAX HIDING IN THE CLOSET LIKE HE’S IN A TEEN ROMCOM 💀 lando:  YOU AND MAX?? 
lando: Wait so like. Did you two… y’know? 👀
y/n: NO NO NO IT’S NOT LIKE THAT, I SWEAR. y/n: WE DID NOT HOOK UP. NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: but if charles finds him he’s not gonna believe that, you KNOW how dramatic he is
lando: Then why’s he in your closet, huh?
lando: You’re telling me you two were just doing nothing at 7am, and now he’s hiding from your overprotective brother??
lando: This is sus af 💀
y/n: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: He came over to… uh… talk? y/n: BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT!! HURRY THE HELL UP BEFORE CHARLES GOES FULL "BIG BROTHER PROTECTOR MODE" AND THINKS THE WORST
lando: Soooo Max just "talks" now? Sure, sure. Just casually talking at 7am at your apartment. lando: I bet he was gonna give you a "lecture" of his own, wasn’t he? 😉
y/n: I’M GOING TO BLOCK YOU IF YOU DON’T STOP.
y/n: HURRY UP, LANDO.
lando: yeah your brother’s gonna yeet Max into the Mediterranean Sea 💀 lando: this is absolutely gold lando: I’m grabbing popcorn, one sec
y/n: STOP JOKING I’M SERIOUS LANDO y/n: CHARLES IS GOING ON ABOUT “RESPECT” AND “TRADITION” LIKE WE’RE IN A DAMN PERIOD DRAMA y/n: HURRY UP AND GET HIM OUT OF HERE. CHA IS LITERALLY OUT HERE RAMBLING ABOUT "RESPECTING FAMILY HONOR."
lando: Fiiiine, I’m getting out of bed. lando: But seriously, Max? Who would have guessed? That’s hilarious. You could’ve picked a better hiding spot tho 💀
y/n: YOU THINK I HAD TIME TO COORDINATE A BETTER PLAN WHEN CHARLES SHOWED UP OUT OF NOWHERE???
lando: You could’ve gone with like… under the bed? Maybe pretend he’s a delivery guy? 😂 lando: Closet’s too obvious, mate. Rookie mistake.
y/n: OKAY, SPYMASTER LANDO, HOW ABOUT YOU FOCUS ON GETTING HERE AND NOT ON MY HIDING STRATEGIES?
lando: wait sooooo lando: MAX REALLY STAYED OVER?? 👀 lando: I’M TELLING YOU, I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING BETWEEN YOU TWO. YOU DON’T HIDE IN CLOSETS FOR JUST ANYONE, SIS
y/n: WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING LANDO. I SWEAR TO GOD. y/n: BUT IF YOU DON’T GET HERE, CHARLES IS GONNA ASSUME THE WORST AND START DIGGING A GRAVE
lando: fine fine I’m coming 💀 lando: this is too good tho, I’m never letting you live this down lando: if Charles finds Max it’s gonna be like “sooo, Max, wanna explain why you’re hiding in my sister’s closet like a serial killer?”
y/n: LANDO. I WILL BLOCK YOU. y/n: JUST GET HERE NOW, BEFORE I HAVE TO FAKE MY OWN DEATH TO ESCAPE THIS SITUATION
lando: can’t wait to see you try to explain why Max is suddenly living in your closet 😭😭 lando: tell Charles Max is helping you with a home renovation or some shit 💀 lando: I’ll be there soon to save your ass
y/n: IF YOU DON’T HURRY, IT’LL BE MY FUNERAL YOU’RE COMING TO. y/n: I’M NOT KIDDING, LANDO. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
lando: Yeah yeah I’m on it.
lando: But if Max survives this, I wanna be best man at the wedding 🥂
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lando created a group
lando added Y/N, max, daniel, george and alex to the group
lando has changed the name of the group to “Drive to Survive: Closet Edition”
lando: EMERGENCY GROUP CHAT. STOP EVERYTHING. 🚨
george: Bro, it’s like 9AM. What now??
alex: Bro, what is it this time?? Did you lose your keys again? 💀
daniel:  Lando, I swear to God, if this is about you locking yourself out of your car again, I’m leaving the group chat.
lando: NO. BIGGER. MUCH BIGGER. lando: I had to save Max’s life this morning. 😳
max: lando, if you even—
lando: MAX WAS HIDING IN Y/N’S CLOSET THIS MORNING.
y/n: LANDO, I SWEAR TO GOD—
george: HOLD ON. Max was hiding in what now?? george: MAX. HIDING. IN Y/N’S CLOSET?! 💀
alex: WAIT WAIT WAIT. MAX?! IN HER CLOSET?? alex: Sounds like an F1 driver version of "Narnia." 🦁 alex: But instead of a lion, you found… Max?
daniel: Wait, hold on. HOLD UP.
daniel: Max was hiding? In Y/N’s closet?
daniel: Were you two… busy? 👀
daniel: This is starting to sound like the setup to a very different kind of movie, if you know what I mean… 
lando: RIGHT?! Closet boy Max out here sneaking around at 7AM.
y/n: NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: CHARLES SHOWED UP OUT OF NOWHERE AND MAX HAD TO HIDE OR HE’D BE DEAD.
lando: She’s underselling it. Charles was out here talking about "honor" like we were back in medieval times.
max: she’s not wrong, charles had murder in his eyes talking about Y/N’s hypothetical boyfriend
george: So, you’re telling me Max was hiding in Y/N’s closet because big bro Charles was about to lose his mind? george: LMAO Max, mate, you were this close to becoming roadkill at the next race.
george: This is gold. Max, you hiding like a teenage boy sneaking out of a girl’s room?! How much were you sweating?
max: look, it was either the closet or death by leclerc
alex: Soooo... you were hiding because…? 👀
alex: If Charles finds out, he’s definitely running Max off the track next race. alex: Or worse, he’ll crash right into him. 💀
daniel: Run him off the track? Charles would straight-up crash into Max next race, no questions asked. 💀
george: Mate, can you imagine? Lap 20: "Verstappen crashes after mysterious contact with Leclerc." 🤔
george: "Sources say Charles Leclerc was last seen revving his engine and screaming about his sister’s honor."
daniel: Bro, I can already see the headlines: "Verstappen DNF—Cause: Leclerc Rage." daniel: Max would be like, "I’m innocent!" while Charles just revs the engine like, "Try me bitch."
lando: Charles would be all smiles in the press conference like, "It was an unfortunate incident…" lando: Meanwhile, Max’s car would still be smoldering in the background.
max: ngl, he’d probably reverse just to make sure it’s done right 😬
alex: "Accident," sure, Charles. I’m sure brake checking Max into the wall was totally accidental.
daniel: Sooo… why were you hiding, Max? 👀 daniel: Closet redecoration? Or were you two getting cozy? 😏
lando: Oh, come on, there’s no hiding in closets unless something was happening. Let’s be real here. 👀
max: look, i was just… you know… max: avoiding death by overprotective brothers. that’s all.
george: Sure, Max. Just avoiding "death"… by hiding in her closet. Sounds innocent. Totally.
alex: Did you fold her clothes while you were in there, or just admire the view? 😂
daniel: Oh, we’re calling it "admiring the view" now, huh?
max: you guys have dirty minds, jesus
lando: Bro, you were literally in her closet. This is peak suspicious behavior.
y/n: NOTHING HAPPENED. y/n: STOP MAKING THIS WEIRD. 🙃
lando: Y/N, babe, you don’t just shove someone in your closet for no reason. There’s something here.
daniel: Yeah, like… what were you two really doing before Charles showed up? 👀 daniel: C’mon, no one hides someone unless they’re in the middle of… something.
y/n: I swear to god, if one more person suggests anything—
max: maybe i was just there to give her fashion advice 🤷‍♂️
george: OH, so that’s what they’re calling it now? "Fashion advice." Sounds steamy.
daniel: So what’d you suggest, Max? "Less clothes"? 😏
y/n: I’M LITERALLY GOING TO MUTE THIS CHAT. NOTHING HAPPENED.
lando: Uh-huh. Sure. lando: You don’t just casually invite Max over to give you "advice" in the early hours of the morning unless something’s going on. Just saying. 😉
daniel: I mean, I’d hide Max too if he showed up like that… 👀
alex: "Like that"? Sounds like Max was already halfway to being undressed. 💀
y/n: YOU GUYS ARE THE WORST.
max: you get used to it after a while
lando: Okay, okay, jokes aside… are you two, like, officially a thing now?
max: yeah, y/n and i… we’re seeing where this goes. officially.
george: OMG, IT'S HAPPENING. MAX AND Y/N ARE OFFICIALLY A THING. 🎉
lando: SOUND THE ALARMS, EVERYONE. lando: We’ve got ourselves a new grid couple. 👀
daniel: Ahhh, the "closet inchident" seals the deal. Love it. You Leclerc’s sure do love your Inchidents
alex: Soooo… have you told Charles yet? Or do we get to keep this secret and watch the chaos unfold?
y/n: ABSOLUTELY NOT. NONE OF YOU SAY A WORD. y/n: Do you WANT Max to end up in a wall at Monza?!
george: Max already looks like he’s preparing his will. 😂
max: pretty sure charles will crash into me on lap 1 if he finds out too early
daniel: I mean, Charles is gonna "accidentally" forget how to brake if he finds out Max’s been sneaking around his sister. 💀
lando: Yeah, next race? You’re gonna see Charles giving Max the death stare before they even get to Turn 1.
max: I’ll be lucky if I don’t get run off the track before lap 10
alex: Charles be like, "Oh sorry, did I cut across your line? Total accident, mate."
george: Imagine Arthur joining in, double-teaming Max on the straights. 💀
alex: "Sorry mate, but family’s family."
daniel: Max, if Charles finds out you were in her closet, he’s coming for you both on and off the track. No question.
lando: I can see it now—Max and Y/N in the paddock: "Charles, listen, it’s not what it looks like!" Meanwhile, Charles is just revving the engine, ready to take you out. 😂
max: and here i thought the danger was over when i left her apartment
alex: Bro, the danger just began. Charles is about to add "track rage" to his skillset.
daniel: "Oh, Max? Never heard of him. My car just had a mind of its own today." daniel: RIP Verstappen 1997-2024 💀
lando: You’ll go down as a legend, Max. "The man who was brave enough to date a Leclerc and live to tell the tale."
max: that’s if i make it past monza
y/n: YOU’RE ALL DRAMATIC.
george: Dramatic? Us? No way. george: I’m just saying, you better have a solid excuse ready when Charles finds out.
y/n: We’ll tell him eventually. Just… not now. y/n: And until then, if any of you open your big mouths, Max’s blood is on your hands.
daniel: So, what’s the plan? Keep hiding Max in your closet until you tell Charles? 💀
y/n: technically, yes.
y/n: But until then, NONE OF YOU SAY A WORD. LET ME HANDLE THIS.
lando: I mean… if I accidentally let it slip, is that on me or on the fact that Max was literally hiding in a CLOSET? 🤔
max: thanks lando, really appreciate it
daniel: Don’t worry, Max, we’ll make sure your funeral’s nice. Real classy. 💐
alex: I’ll bring flowers. Something dramatic, like roses. 🌹
george has changed the name of the group to “Max's Funeral Planning Committee"
george: Should we do slow-mo highlights of Max’s best overtakes at his funeral? Maybe some sad violin music?
lando: I’m picturing Max’s ghost standing next to Charles, watching the replays like, "Really? This is how I go out?" 💀
y/n: YOU’RE ALL INSANE. STOP JOKING ABOUT THIS.
george: We’ll make sure it’s an open casket. But, you know, open… after Charles crashes into it.
y/n: I’M BLOCKING ALL OF YOU.
lando: Can’t imagine how you'd even explain Max’s sudden appearance in your wardrobe to Charles. "He’s just helping with interior design, bro!" 😂
max: okay okay, enough. max: but for real, don’t tell charles anything yet.
daniel: Sure, we’ll keep the secret. For now. But we want front-row seats when you break the news.
y/n: Let me handle it before anyone here decides to run their big mouth.
lando: Big mouth? Me? Never. 😉
george: You know, this whole "keeping it secret" thing feels very Romeo and Juliet.
lando: Yeah but without the poison, please.
daniel: More like, Romeo hiding in Juliet’s closet while her brother lectures her for an hour. 😂
alex: "Romeo, why are you still in that closet?" alex: "Shhh, Charles will kill me."
max: i hate you all
alex: Don’t worry, Max. We’ll be at the next race, just in case Charles accidentally loses his brakes. 😂
y/n: You’re all the worst. 🙄
lando: Max, you better not be hiding in anyone else’s closet anytime soon. lando: Or else this group chat’s gonna have to upgrade to "Max’s Closet Chronicles: The Sequel."
y/n: Don’t give him ideas.
george: Max: Professional F1 Driver by day, Closet Houdini by night. 😭
max: i hate you all
y/n: Welcome to the club.
daniel: This is gonna be legendary.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
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