#inspirational christmas text messages

[chaepink]

My Kind of Present | sub!gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k words | masterlist

dom!gn!reader, praise, use of a vibrator, slight degradation, bondage, ooc gojo kinda, fluffy ending

note: I’m back yall 🫶 also this is Christmas inspired so pretend it’s December again

The noise of your shoes on the stairs throughout the building you're in as you walk upstairs to your and Gojo's shared apartment. After struggling to open the door to the place, you finally enter, a wave of exhaustion hitting you after being out and around the entire day.

However, you notice something odd.

The place is eerily quiet, almost as if no one is home.

You remember the text Gojo sent you an hour or so ago. He had told you to quickly return from your errands for a surprise with a winky face after it and you rolled your eyes when you read it. Though you knew of his rather stupid stunts all the time, you couldn't help but be curious as to what the surprise was this time. Especially if he had only texted you once when he would usually bombard you with multiple text messages, begging you to hurry home.

After hanging up your coat and putting away the groceries, you make your way to the living room where you assume Gojo would be. However, when you get closer and closer to the room, you start to hear a faint whimpering sound coming from within that sounds suspiciously like Gojo. You would know of course.

The bright lights of your Christmas tree slightly blind you as you walk in but that's not what catches your eye. Instead, what catches your eye is what's underneath the tree. Well rather next to it. No, you're not talking about the many presents that you and Gojo bought for each other either, rather it's Gojo himself. There he is on his back, all tied in red ribbon that's wrapped around him in such an intricate way you have no idea how he even managed to do so by himself.

The sight makes the words you were going to say die on your tongue, your mouth agape and dry at the sight. Gojo hears your steps enter the room and his head shoots towards you, excitement in his eyes.

"Surprise [name]!" You rapidly blink to make sure you're seeing it all correctly but it all stays the same. Gojo looks almost like a present with the way he's tied so prettily in the ribbon and you assume that's exactly what he was going for. Except, there was no wrapping paper and Gojo was fully naked except for the ribbon adorning his chest, arms, and legs.

You walk towards him, stopping right in front of him. Confusion is shown on your face while Gojo has a huge dorky grin on his face, clearly pleased with your reaction so far.

"What's.. What's this Gojo?" Your boyfriend rolls his eyes as if the answer isn't obvious. "It's your Christmas present, of course!"

Your eyes roam his body and your eyes widen even more in disbelief at the sight of a fucking gift bow on his dick. This wasn't even close to what you were expecting as a surprise from Gojo when he texted you but the more you take in the unexpected sight, the more you start to like it.

You notice that his hands are behind his back and you assume that it's been tied together somehow.

Gojo's previous confident demeanor fades away and he swallows nervously at your intense stare on his body, feeling your eyes looking at everything. He has to hold back a shiver, not from the cold but rather from how you're looking down at him with hunger in your eyes. Though his ankles aren't tied together, Gojo had squeezed them together to try to hide his hard dick.

"Do you... like it?" You grin at him. "Oh baby I love it, you look so pretty like this." Gojo flushes red which only compliments the red ribbon on him even more. "I can't believe you did this just for me. If I knew, I would've arrived back so much earlier."

Gojo pouts and glances away from you nervously. "Um, c-can you help me?" You furrow your eyebrows at him. "You want to get out of the ribbon already?" Gojo shakes his head rapidly. Before you could ask him what he meant, he slowly spreads his legs together to reveal his now hard dick to you.

"You got hard just from my praise? Or were you already hard when I arrived here?" You chuckle. "I didn't even touch you yet or anything either." Gojo whines at your teasing. You're about to tease him again before your eyes catch onto the vibrator attached to his dick and you choke on your spit.

"Shit gojo. You just love surprising me, don't you?" Gojo flushes and you glance around. "Where's the remote, baby?' You see Gojo turn to his head and motion towards the small remote on top of a nearby table and you're quick to grab it.

"W-Wait don't a-ah shit!" You immediately increase the vibration setting and watch as he squirms on the ground, his head thrashing side to side at the intensity of the pleasure. His knees are up and you place a hand on one to keep him still. You lean over his figure and chuckle.

"I guess Santa got what I wanted for Christmas this year," you tease, a wide grin threatening to spread on your face. Gojo lets out a small cry but being the huge flirt he always is, he simply shoots back with his retort. Well, he tries to at least. "Y-You ngh asked S-Santa for me to ha be n-naked and tied in red ribbon? ah!"

You chuckle. "Well not exactly, but I would like to say it's pretty close." You watch as pre cum leaks from his tip steadily, only adding to the erotic scene in front of you.

Gojo squirms under your hungry and intense gaze. The ribbon tied around his wrists prevents him from touching you and although he's able to break out of them if he wants to, you know he won't. Every time he moves, the ribbon wrapped around his chest rubs against his nipple, causing it to harden and send a bolt of pleasure up his spine.

As Gojo soon realizes that you're not planning to touch him, he only whimpers. "Touch m-me [name]! Please..." You hold down onto his knee more, leaning forward as you look down on him. The sudden adrenaline rush you're getting from the feeling of having Gojo underneath you begging for your touch only adds to your desire to ruin him. From this view, you're able to see the way his muscles flex and tighten against the ribbon, your eyes raking over his sculpted body.

You pretend to think about his plea, tapping on your chin as if you're actually considering it. You see hope flash in Gojo's eyes before you turn back towards him with a wicked grin.

"How about... no?" You giggle when Gojo whines, his eyes never leaving the remote in your hand. You feign a pout at him. "You surprised me with all this, shouldn't I get to enjoy it, baby?"

Gojo swallows and tries to stutter out a response through a moan that escapes his mouth, reminding him that the vibrator is still against his dick and on too. "Y-Yeah but..." You raise an eyebrow at him, urging him to finish his sentence but Gojo only turns his head away from you, face flushed red. Though subtle, you feel his legs spread wider for you as he shuts his eyes. He eagerly nods.

"P-Please use me..." You grin and immediately turn the toy onto high, watching in amusement as Gojo's body jerks and arches beautifully. "Oh glady, baby." His eyes shoot open and you see how they're glazed over. Almost as if he's about to cry.

You coo at him. "Gonna cry already, baby? Just from a mere toy in your ass and some bondage?" Gojo cries weakly at you. Sure it was just a toy but it was a large one at that, one that Gojo has been nervous to try up until now. Though of course he's not regretting it now, fully immersed in the pleasure as sparks shock his body throughout.

You have to swallow down the lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up. Gojo quickly warns you he's close, his loud noises filling the room that would surely cause a noise complaint to arrive at your door tomorrow but you could care less at the moment.

"Go on baby, make a mess of yourself for me." Babbling out thank you's and pleas, you watch as he cums, the white substance covering his stomach, some even on his chest and on the ribbon. You quickly turn off the toy in him and watch as he slumps against the floor, his chest heaving as he tries to recover from the intense orgasm he just had.

Walking to where his face lay, you peck his cheek. "Stay here, alright? I'll go grab a wet cloth and clean you up." But as you stand up, Gojo's hand grabs your wrist and you widen your eyes. You didn't even realize he slipped his hands out of the bondage.

You stare at him as Gojo looks at you, heavy breaths leaving his mouth. "Could we... could we take this to the bedroom?" It takes you a few seconds but it then hits you that he's suggesting a round two and you only giggle.

"Seriously? You want another round?" Gojo nods eagerly and you move to untie the ribbon but he stops you, sitting up. "Could I keep it on? I-I kinda like it and it's only my chest anyways and-" He soon realizes he's rambling and cuts himself off. You giggle and grab his face.

"Of course, baby. You'll always be the best present I could ask for.”

ty for reading to the end! ❤️ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[vmpiires]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

„𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓”

𝐂𝐖;; 18+ content, MDNI. afab!reader, obsessive!choso, masturbation, mentions of sex (?), praise kink (?), no uses of y/n. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; MAPPA. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 2.3OK

dark mode recommended

do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; being on c.ai just gave me this idea. ya probably missed my smut so im back at it. here’s choso for everybody that asked (more of him coming up!) hope ya enjoyyyyy reblog to support meeeee and if you want more :D and merry christmas eve!!

another note: i was listening to “in for it” by tory lanez when writing this…i think it’s perfect. i was also listening to “from the start” by laufey…that inspired the plot also. also the (?) means that i listed the warning just in case it happens and i may change my mind mid story so still be cautious! (putting that in for my future stories) (some aspects inspired by: @chososdiscordkitten)

choso was lying on his bed and he was holding his phone. he was now looking over at his text messages and he saw that his “friend” was now texting him. that “friend” was you. he sighed softly and he put his phone down and let his hand travel down to between his legs.

he was already rubbing himself lightly ans slowly. he started to breathe in and out slowly. his body would become hot as he was thinking of you and how he wanted to have you back in his presence.

you and choso were really close. you met through his kid brother, yuji. the younger assumed that choso should try to go out and find himself some acquaintances to keep him occupied. it was also the right thing to do, considering that curses weren’t really accepted by society and he was a hybrid.

you both hit it off pretty quickly. you thought he was funny because of his awkwardness and tendency to get flustered every time you compliment him. he doesn’t hear those very often.

he had been thinking about all the different things he could say to you and he was just staring at your message with his thoughts swirling in his head like a storm. he also began to think of the possibility of you breaking his heart and the fact that you were probably talking to some other guy. you probably liked him better. he began thinking of how he can stop it before it starts. so you never leave him.

his fingers started to stroke his erection in a consistent rhythm and he was letting his thoughts takeover. he was imagining you with him and imagining you in a vulnerable position, wanting him and needing him

his strokes became faster and his breathing became more erratic, his body was starting to tense up as he couldn’t help but imagine you in every position. he let his mind become intoxicated by his lust and this sensation of losing control.

he was nearing the point of no return, he was taking heavy breaths and his body was tensing and relaxing in a consistent rhythm. he started to speak aloud and he would moan softly and he whispered your name under his breath, hoping no one can hear him.

he could feel himself getting close and his breathing was becoming faster and his voice now sounded like a growl as he let your name slip through his lips repeatedly. his breath was now hot and his body was tensing up and his fingers and fists were now clenching tightly as the sensation grew inside of him.

right before he could finish, he heard a knock on his door. choso sucked his teeth and covered himself with his blanket, slightly frustrated that he couldn’t completely satisfy himself without being interrupted. he would quickly try to slow his breathing before answering the door.

the door opens and yuji is standing there with an eager smile, “hey, did you wanna come to the mall with me and my friends later? i know it’s hot as hell out since it’s summer but we shouldn’t be inside all day.”

choso couldn’t see himself but he knew he was flustered and his chest was still moving up and down a bit quickly. it made yuji slightly suspicious.

“you sound outta breath, are you okay?”

“no—i mean, yes, i’m fine.” choso swallowed, running a hand through his hair. at this moment, choso didn’t have his hair up in his twintails like he normally did…part of that reason was because you mentioned that you liked him with his hair down and that he should wear that style a bit more often. it was also because he takes the rubber bands out of his hair after being out all day and wearing them as bracelets until the next time he had to leave the house.

“right,” yuji chuckled, “i’ll let you know when later if i’m still going.” the pink haired boy began to walk out of choso’s room but he quickly stopped him before the door closed.

“yeah?”

“is…you know who…gonna be there?” choso asked. the question alone made yuji smirk and lean against the doorframe in a goofy manner. it wouldn’t be a surprise if he picked this kind of stuff up from gojo.

“oh, yeah. she’ll be there.” yuji smiled. that’s when choso felt like he had to actually look like something today. he wanted to impress you. he wanted you to compliment him again. he wanted you to praise him. to give him the satisfaction that he had been craving from you for so long.

when yuji left the room, choso looked at his phone, reading the time. it was still a bit early in the morning. ‘9:15 AM’ the clock read. he’d glance down a the wallpaper on his phone, which was you and yuji smiling while eating some ice cream.

‘she’s so pretty…’ he thought. it felt like you were looking directly at him, the longer he stared at the photo, clearly hypnotized by your eyes and your smile. he needed you more than ever and he was gonna make it happen sooner or later.

choso got up and made his way to the bathroom to shower and clean the pre cum off of him. after he was done with his hygiene, he’d put his hair up in his usual twintails then he would put on something simple. a tan oversized sweater with a pair of joggers. he was a simple man and going out in a huge white robe and a gi wasn’t very ideal for the heat that was surging through the city.

a sweater and some joggers weren’t very ideal for this weather either but choso seemed to be fitting in very well…humans did the same thing. some of them.

when it was time to head out with yuji to go to the mall, choso was fully prepared to see you. the male would spray a few squirts of cologne on himself, fix his hair, and he even held out on putting on that eyeshadow that made him look like he didn’t get any ounce of sleep at all.

choso remembered you talking about spider lilies on your story. they came in beautiful colors that looked like they came from a fantasy world and you were in love with them. they were extremely rare and they had a deep meaning behind them.

though, he was aware that they were extremely rare, he was able to get his hands on them after searching around for a while. he found white and red spider lilies. he thought they were a pretty mix of colors. he was even lucky to get one that was white and faded into the usual deep red color like a gradient.

“who are those for?” yuji teased as he peered over at the four spider lilies that choso was carrying with him. the older male’s cheeks flushed a red color, hesitant on answering the question. he couldn’t lie to his brother so he decided to tell the partial truth.

“they’re a home decoration. they aren’t particularly for anyone. they’re for whoever wants them.” the male answered. yuji lifted an eyebrow. he thought it was a bit odd to buy flowers and carry them around until someone asked for them…but choso was still learning so yuji couldn’t blame him for being backwards.

when the two arrived at the mall, choso could see you sitting with nobara and megumi. megumi was spacing out, wandering around the area in circles while you and kugisaki were bumbling about what stores you were going to.

your head suddenly looks up, noticing choso and yuji standing a good distance away, pretty close to the entrance. when you put on a friendly smile and waved in their direction, he was pretty sure you were waving at him.

yuji and choso advance towards you and your other two friends and begin your plans for the day. plans like relaxing at the park or getting some sushi and udon came up. megumi remarking that yuji might stick one or sukuna’s fingers in his meal and call it a secret recipe.

while everyone talked, you noticed that choso was disassociated as usual, holding onto the spider lilies that he bought for you and zoning out.

“hey, how’d you get these?” you asked. choso’s heart skipped a beat when he felt your hand lightly brush against his when you attempted to touch the spider lilies. “they’re so rare.” you added.

“oh—uh…yeah.” choso mumbled. there was a silence. you knew choso was a quiet guy, so you didn’t force him to speak any more than he already had. you reach up and touch the flowers and your smile grows a bit.

“can i?” you begin. choso doesn’t hesitate to hand you the trio of lilies. you weren’t really expecting him to give you all of them since you only wanted to hold one of them. your eyes light up at the rare white one that faded into red. it caught your eye quicker than the regular red and white ones that were in that set of spider lilies.

choso fixed his lips to say something but yuji had come over to the two, “hey, you guys ready?”

of course, you were over the moon because you couldn’t wait to go shopping and go to your favorite places with nobara. you nod and trotted off, already knowing where you were going for your first store.

‘she didn’t give the flowers back…’ choso was in awe when you walked away, holding your favorite species of flowers in your hands. he felt the heat rising in his cheeks again. he’d take the time to take a mental image of you before smiling to himself.

it might’ve been the one in few times he’s actually smiled.

choso would follow yuji and megumi around, hoping that he’d end up running into you again while they circled around the building. instead of looking at things to buy, his thoughts were entirely filled with you.

he fantasized about what you say to him when it was time to confess. how it would feel to kiss you just one time. to sit in a park by all the cherry blossom trees and just have a long conversation about whatever came to mind.

he loved you but you weren’t seeing that. it was frustrating him. then it hit him…you probably did like someone else that wasn’t him. the thought made his chest hurt but he pushed those feelings down because he didn’t want to have a mental breakdown in public. not again.

when the five of you went out to get food after enjoying some time at the mall, choso made sure to sit beside you at the table but also near yuji so nothing was made terribly obvious. he listened to you ramble on about the stuff you bought from the mall. new clothes, a set of undergarments with a robe, and a vase for the spider lilies that you ended up getting from choso.

each time your hand accidentally brushed up against his hand or his arm, he couldn’t help but blush. he’d shove food into his mouth to force himself from smiling when you spoke to him.

this was regular to him. he was more than confident that you were in love with him when you flashed a warm smile at him and asked him for his input on each topic that bounced around the table.

his heart raced each time he fixed his lips to speak, mortified that he’d embarrass himself in front of you but he spoke smoothly and clearer than ever in his low adverb voice. currently, the conversation was on how yuji believed that choso was a terrible teacher. a moment that sent choso into an embarrassed spiral the first time it happened.

“i don’t think you’re a bad teacher,” you assure him, “there’s just things you need to learn and there’s …a million things yuji needs to learn. you both need each other’s support.”

your words meant everything to him and it also gave him a new form of confidence. it wasn’t that he really lacked confidence. he was just too stuck up in his own world to care about anything else.

at the end of your night, unknowingly making choso crave you even more as he continues life with his unrequited love, choso walks with you to the bus stop.

“oh, i meant to say thanks for the flowers. i think it’s a coincidence that you bought them, considering they’re rare…and they’re my favorite.” you say.

“oh…i didn’t know that.” choso replied. he felt terrible for lying. he knew a lot about you. he knew what kind of music you liked, what your favorite movies and shows were. everything. but he didn’t want you to run off because of his tendency to be honest and he might end up saying the wrong thing.

“do you…have instagram?” choso suddenly asks you as he noticed the bus approaching. you don’t think anything of it and you give him your username while he gives you his. he wanted to smile when he felt your phone in his hands but he managed to keep his disassociated expression.

when the bus arrived, the vehicle hissed as its doors opened up so you can board. you looked back at choso and waved goodbye to him and gave him a quick hug before you got onto the bus.

you quickly waved to him again the moment the you sat down on the bus and choso would wave back and there a a subtle smile on his face. once the bus pulled off, his smile faded and he took a breath.

‘next time…i’ll take more direct actions…’

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

[buzzcutlip]

Cracks and Gaps - The Worst Day (part I) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 7434 words ao3

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother's restaurant. As an editor, you can't miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy.

A/N: I've started writing this story a looong time ago last year. There will be two more parts. I would like to thank @carmyboobear for being the most incredible beta and helping me out on the rocky journey. They're a very special person to me, and also a fantastic and inspiring writer themselves. Please, check their Carmy stories if you haven't!

THE WORST DAY

The first time you meet Carmen, you are both a little over twenty and in Copenhagen. He is staging at Noma, and you are interning at a design studio where everyone is very “green.” From one of your conversations with Carmen, you learn that Pop-Tarts and Cheetos are illegal here. In Europe. Most of the sodas that stained your tongue crazy colors when you were a kid are banned too. He lectures you on Scandinavian agriculture and food production.

Carmen is skinny and short—still a bit taller than you, though—with sharp, high cheekbones and bulging eyes. You don't know enough about each other to be “friends,” but he is a good companion. Your high school friend Becky knows Carmen’s older sister; that’s how you found each other in Denmark’s capital.

On two rare occasions, you get drunk together, and that happens only when he is stressed from work. Like, stressed STRESSED. You'd think he only drinks special natural wine from Lofoten or something, but his choice of poison is canned Budweiser. Maybe he misses home as much as you do. Maybe that’s what leads you to almost kiss him the second time. Carmen lives on a boat, and he takes you there, where you drink vodka mixed with herbs and licorice that Carmen concocts, his tongue peeking out between his lips as he concentrates. The drink tastes good. Weird. You don't hide your grimace. Neither of you comments on the alcohol ratio. It's more vodka than anything else, that's for sure.

Carmen is not your type, physically or character-wise—you are an introvert yourself, so you need someone to bring you out of your shell. Obviously, doing an internship on a different continent is a huge step, one that is only on you. He also smokes a lot and probably doesn't wash his hair. You've heard about his crazy mother and bonkers family from Becky, so you understand why Carmen is Carmen. Why he’s run off to Europe. It's just—his face—his eyes, when he's telling you about his dream job at Noma or Alchemist—they glow, and he becomes so animated, the quiet excitement seeping to the surface, and there's fondness blooming in your chest. He also knows a thing or two about sports, as you do, the subject bringing you back to Chicago, and the longing for “home” and “familiar” is terribly strong in the moment, enhanced by the alcohol. And Carmen, the boy sitting opposite you, with burns on his hands and ripped jeans, is both of those things put into one.

Nothing happens between you two, but the urge to press your own lips against his lingers after you leave in a taxi, not brave enough to ride a bike under the influence.

You try to stay in touch after Copenhagen, messaging Carmen on his empty Facebook profile, sending a text once in a while, mainly at Christmas, and when you have some terrible junk food, just to make fun of him. When he FaceTimes you, he’s in Paris, and you’re in Dublin. The next time, he’s in California.

He rarely ever answers messages on the phone. Usually, it's an emoji, sometimes a word or two. Soon, there are no answers, and you can't be bothered. You carry on with your life in Chicago, and it doesn’t take long before you start seeing Carmen Berzatto in the paper, on the internet. The young prodigy chef, everyone says. Reluctantly, you read the articles, thinking about the Copenhagen Carmen, smiling at his photos. He's grown up, filled out. His hair is curlier, his shoulders wider, his biceps stronger. He looks good. Good and sad, you think to yourself, and decide not to text him to congratulate him on his star career. Carmen is not one to care about what you think of it.

It's only when you hear from Becky that Mikey Berzatto has died, that you think of Carmen properly, after years full of work in the magazine office, one shitty almost-boyfriend, and summers spent in Europe, writing about sustainable travel and solo adventures. Becky says that he's inherited a restaurant from Michael. You decide against sending him condolences—too personal.

But about ten months later, there's whispering that a fancy restaurant, The Bear, is replacing The Beef of Chicagoland, and it's actually your boss who tells you that you should go check the place out.

You are not into that whole haute cuisine thing, to be honest. You never understood those tiny little portions and strange ingredients and their combinations. You prefer good pasta with Bolognese sauce or roasted chicken with mashed potatoes. Sometimes you wonder if Carmen's strange relationship with his family is what's keeping him away from his Italian roots and forcing him to work in pristine, starched whites in sterile kitchens, cooking intestines and antlers, making it art.

---

Becky gives you Natalie Berzatto’s phone number to get in touch with her to try to schedule an interview for the magazine feature. Your boss, Rob, hopes that Carmen could even make it to the cover soon when The Bear takes off. You’re not sure how you feel about bypassing Carmen completely and going straight to his sister.

So one Thursday, in early May, you decide to walk there, unannounced. You corner the building, passing a big glass window, and before you make it to the main entrance, you nearly collide with a very wonky wooden stepladder. With Carmen Berzatto on top of it, fiddling with a screwdriver or a similar tool, and a signboard.

The second you make contact with the ancient stepladder, Carmen shouts, "Fuck!"

“Sorry,” you yelp, and one glance at the man high up confirms that you are indeed dealing with the Chef himself.

“Could you watch out?” he says angrily as he makes his way down, measuring every step carefully.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, waiting anxiously for Carmen to—hopefully—recognize you. To anyone walking by, you must look like an idiot, standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting motionless and stiff for a guy to climb down a ladder.

You don’t know what you had been expecting but definitely not Carmen staring at you with his huge, bloodshot eyes for seconds that feel like minutes. You nearly turn around and walk away, no joke.

He looks—

“You look—” you start. Terrible. But also, like, gorgeous. Terribly tired but hot. Is it awful of you to think that?

“Hi,” Carmen says, one hand going into the big mess of his hair, the other one into his pants pocket. He's avoiding your eyes, which makes you even more nervous, makes you think it was not such a great idea to come here.

“Hi!” you say, probably overly enthusiastically. “You're back in Chicago,” is the first thing you can think of.

He nods. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, congrats on the new place,” you say, gesturing to the building behind him, newspaper covering the windows. “I'm really sorry, I thought it was already open,” you explain, tugging on the hem of your lilac sweatshirt nervously. Can he tell you’re lying? “Becky mentioned something about it.”

“No, we’re opening next week,” Carmen says, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

“I'm really curious,” you smile carefully, testing the waters, wondering how he's going to react. You haven't seen each other in more than five years, and Carmen's never been exactly friendly. Not like mean, but definitely not easily approachable. “I work for this magazine, and we would love to do a feature on this,” you say, leaving out that it's you who would be writing it. Who wants to write it. Not only about the place but about Carmen, the enigma, the quiet boy, the excellent chef.

He only nods, clearly not sharing your enthusiasm. “Maybe later,” he taps the cigarette against the palm of his other hand. “When we're ready for this kind of thing.”

“Of course,” you agree quickly.

“Might be a while.”

“So what is the big plan?”

Carmen looks at you, measuring you. Like he thinks you have some ulterior motive. He lights up the cigarette, taking a long drag from it, and you fight not to scrunch your nose in disgust. The older you get, the more you hate the smell. Especially when someone is blowing out the smoke aimlessly—almost—in your face.

“My partner—Sydney, she’s hung up on the stars. So I guess a fine dining kinda place,” Carmen says, flicking the cigarette butt in the general direction of the gutter. The second sentence comes out more like a question than a statement, but you are still processing the first one.

“You run a business with your girlfriend?” you swear you don’t mean it to sound so accusing.

Carmen takes a step back, physically—bumping into the stepladder behind him—and mentally, too. “No! She—Sydney’s my business partner.” The defensive tone tells you exactly how your words sounded though. You wince. “We’ve been working on the new concept together with Nat, and the whole crew, actually. It’s—it’s a family business, I guess—uhm. We had only like three months to finish, and—”

You can see he’s really flustered. He’s starting to stutter, hand nervously scratching his neck. You hate the sight, hate that you’ve made him feel like this.

“I’m sorry!” you interrupt him. “It came out all wrong. I shouldn’t have said that,” you say urgently, hoping to see him relax back to his non-caring, nonchalant, tired-looking self. How could you mess up so quickly? Is that your special ability or a curse?

“‘s fine,” Carmen says, and he does relax a bit, shoulders dropping an inch. He doesn’t look friendly though. Or in the mood for a chat. “I just—she’s a business partner,” he repeats obstinately, face red.

The moment grows awkward. In your coat pocket, you touch a pack of chewing gum and start fiddling with it. “I—my office is nearby so I thought I could come around and see the progress,” you say into the void, trying not to cringe too much. “Maybe I would take a few colleagues for dinner.”

“The reservations aren't open yet,” Carmen says in a flat voice. You can’t call him out because it’s probably true anyway. Plus, you just lied again—the offices are not close; you had taken the L—and you feel bad about it.

There’s not much left to say, you realize. He’s not giving you any space to turn this “accidental” meeting into a proper conversation. You shuffle your feet nervously, feeling stupid.

“Alright. It was nice seeing you!” you say, as it’s about time to end this. “Hope everything’s gonna work out great!” you add in a cheerful tone, already setting to walk back to the station.

“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.” Carmen says back, lighting a second cigarette.

What a nightmare, you think as you walk through the busy streets.

—

In the following weeks, you almost forget about The Bear. Rob complains about the nonexistent article on the new, already hyped-up restaurant and wasted opportunities, but what can you do? The not-at-all-accidental meeting with Carmen had been a disaster you actively try to erase from your mind. Working on your regular column and material for the website keeps you busy. Then Becky calls out of nowhere, and you two arrange lunch at The Marq. You end up swapping hilarious stories from the last two months you hadn’t seen each other, and you secretly pray she doesn’t ask about Natalie Berzatto or her brother. You're out of luck, because she does—of course she does—and you have to lay the cards on the table.

“You did contact Nat first though?” is the first thing Becky asks.

“I didn’t,” you shake your head. “I didn’t want to exclude Carmen right at the very beginning,” you admit.

“Oh god,” Becky rolls her eyes at you, taking a small bite of her salmon cake sandwich.

“I knooow,” you quickly stop her, feeling like ordering something stronger than the simple soda you’ve been drinking.

“I think you should still call Natalie,” Becky says, pointing at you with a determined frown. “I went to see her and her new baby just last week. She asked about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Apparently they could really use some help getting the word out about The Bear. A good excuse to talk Carmen into an interview maybe? An exclusive one?” She wiggles her eyebrows, knowing how cool it would be for you to come up with this.

“Maybe,” you muse, playing it cool. Inside, you are already hyped up about the possibility of scoring the first interview with the former best chef in the world. Is he still good at all? Why did he disappear? Why is he back?

—

The anxiety of the following days forces you to actually text Natalie. You’ve been checking online websites and Instagram accounts apprehensively, worried that a medium might publish something about The Bear before you get a chance. Rob isn’t a dick, but you wouldn’t want to look incompetent in his eyes. So far, you’ve been able to steer away from conversations about the new Carmen Berzatto restaurant at work. Your work ethic makes it difficult for you to let The Bear go without a fight.

That’s how you find yourself in front of Natalie’s door. When she opens it, she doesn’t hide her fervor.

“Oh, finally! Hi! Please come in.” She ushers you inside. You’ve never seen her in person, only on Becky’s Instagram, maybe, and even though the exhaustion is apparent on the woman’s face, you can spot the similarities with Carmen in her features right away.

From the dark hallway, she leads you to the sitting room. When you look around, it’s hard to find a clutter-free space. Every surface is covered with baby clothes, baby diapers, baby wipes—clean and dirty—bottles—full and empty.

“Sorry for the mess,” Natalie appears next to you, snatching away a baby muslin from the sofa. “Have a seat, please,” she nods. “The baby’s asleep. Hopefully for the next—” and she checks her watch, “another twenty minutes.”

As you sit down, Natalie collapses into an armchair, not minding what appears to be a pile of freshly washed newborn onesies and other clothes underneath her.

“Thank you so much for stopping by,” she says sincerely, and you notice the many stains on her purple t-shirt.

You smile. “No problem.”

“Becky said that you know stuff about Instagram and social media and marketing and all that?” Natalie’s eyes are wide and hopeful.

“I would say so,” you nod.

“I’m not sure what Becky mentioned already,” Natalie says as she starts pulling the baby clothes from under her and folding them absentmindedly. That definitely says something about the state she’s in, without Becky describing the situation to you—not only with The Bear but also Nat herself. “Carmy’s putting so much into the restaurant—we all are—so much hope,” she babbles, “none of us have slept properly in weeks—months! And now the baby...” Natalie’s gaze becomes unfocused for a moment before she blinks rapidly. “The timing’s not so great,” she forces out a weak laugh, and you smile again, already feeling bad for her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I understand. It’s hard,” you empathize, feeling genuinely bad—not for The Bear—but for Natalie.

“I’m not a marketing guru, but I can research things,” she carries on, more confident now. “But I can’t be there all the time, y’know? It’s just not possible. If—if someone could help with keeping the place afloat and spreading the word—” she stops talking and folding, looking directly at you. “That would be just so awesome,” she finishes quietly, her bottom lip wobbling.

You know that Nat’s not trying to emotionally blackmail you, even though the situation kinda feels like it, and you do feel for her.

“I can help, yes.”

“I’ll talk to Carm and Sydney, and we’ll figure out how much we can offer you!” The relief and excitement are apparent in the way Nat jumps up from the armchair.

“That’s alright, really,” you say calmly, putting a hand on her arm now that she’s closer. “We can discuss this later,” and you give her another encouraging smile.

The unmistakable sound of a baby crying comes from somewhere in the house. Poor Natalie freezes, her hand going to touch her chest. She takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Thank you. Thank you,” and she takes a hold of your hand, squeezing it. “I’ll tell Sydney to get in touch with you—or you can actually just go to the restaurant; they know about you.”

That makes you slightly uncertain as you remember your first attempt at an unannounced visit to The Bear.

“Alright,” you nod with a polite smile. After all, you’re getting something out of this too.

—

Sydney texts you exactly 22 minutes after you leave worn-out Natalie and her baby behind and invites you to come to The Bear the next day. To make yourself appear more untouchable, you reply that the soonest you’re available is next Monday. Make them wait.

It gets you on edge, though, and more than once you think of Carmen in his tiny Copenhagen kitchen, how things used to be. How easy it is to grow apart. Not that you’d been friends exactly. Hard to be anything like that with a person as closed off as Carmen Berzatto.

On the agreed Monday, you dare to finish early at work and take the train to The Bear. Your stomach is in knots, even though you’ve been pretty brave about the whole thing. It’s just—you’re not sure how Carmen’s gonna react when he sees you, and you’re already thinking about the worst possible scenarios. Just stop! you tell yourself resolutely, forcing yourself to concentrate on the simple but well-thought-out marketing plan you prepared to present. Without being asked. If Carmen sees that you actually KNOW things, he might change his opinion about you. Not that you KNOW his opinion, but—maybe he would actually acknowledge you finally.

It’s just after the family meal when you arrive. A tall man who introduces himself as Richie lets you in instantly, and he’s clearly been informed about your arrivall. As soon as Sydney is notified of your presence, she rushes to you from the kitchen in the back, wiping her hands on her apron. You notice right away that she’s friendly and calm, and it relaxes your nerves. There’s no doubt she loves the restaurant and her job, and you see that she worries as much as Natalie does, or even more.

“We’re opening in two hours, so it’s a bit wild in the back, but maybe you wanna see the kitchen?” Sydney offers as she’s showing you around the newly restored restaurant, opening the heavy door. “A quick peek,” she adds as a loud cracking noise comes out of the exact door.

You’ve been to a couple of kitchens, and you must say that this one’s definitely on the chaotic side of the scale. People in white aprons run here and there, no one’s still, not even for a second. There’s a good amount of shouting and a huge amount of swearing. In the middle of everything, there’s Chef Carmen Berzatto. He looks like a character from Cartoon Network. His wild hair is sticking out in all directions, dark tattoos covering his arms and hands, face sweaty, eyes ready to pop out of his head. He’s shorter than most people you see circling the kitchen, but the loudest one. He shouts orders, and you notice the vein on the side of his neck—it sure is ready to burst. You wonder how far he is from having a heart attack.

“Or maybe next time,” Sydney mutters, gently pushing you out of the way and shutting the door again. She leads you to one of the brown wooden tables where you settle again.

“Is he always like that?” you ask Sydney, actually glad that you’re not in the room where the storm’s currently happening.

“Only when he’s stressed,” Sydney explains shortly, an apologetic smile on her lips.

When it comes to money, it’s obvious The Bear doesn’t have much to spare, that much is clear. Sydney is extremely apologetic and sweet about it.

“There’s a marketing budget—previously non-existent—that we’ve set aside and can offer. It’s just not much, I’m afraid,” she tells you, jittery.

You want to reassure her, to tell her that you're doing it for Carmen, for an old "friend." But from what you've gathered, Sydney doesn't even know that Carmen knows you.

So you just smile and reassure her anyway. "I'll put it on my resume. I can use more cases with social media for hospitality," you lie.

Nodding, Sydney clarifies, "Yes, just Instagram. Please. Carmy doesn't want to put anything in the press. Yet."

When a curious Richie joins you at the table, you present the Instagram plan to both of them. Even though Richie can't help making a few rather stupid remarks that only he finds funny, they both listen carefully. You see a lot of skepticism on Richie's face, probably because he doesn't understand some of the big words, you guess, but Sydney seems to be really into everything from pictures of the food and the weekly specials, to quick reels showing potential customers a little bit of behind-the-scenes action.

"Oh, I'm sure Cousin will be thrilled to have people sticking their noses into his business," Richie says, and you're not sure how serious he is. But Sydney shushes him, and you carry on, showing her the mock-up of the possible Instagram feed to set the mood for the profile.

For the next three weeks, you go to The Bear twice a week to gather some content—photos and videos. You talk to the crew and film those who are okay with it. Your presence is met with mixed emotions, but Sydney's gratitude and kindness make up for every suspicious glare and exasperated sigh when you find yourself in someone's way. Besides the restaurant, you take your neighbor's dog for a long walk every Saturday morning, call your mom and dad to check in, scroll Instagram instead of finally starting an actual book, and often wonder why Carmen is so hostile towards you.

Generally, you try not to hang out in the kitchen directly, especially not when Chef Carmen is present. Being uncomfortable in a new environment makes you positively anxious, causing you to go through a whole pack of your favorite cinnamon Simply Gums a day.

You also remember to always tie your hair up—not that the staff there wear hairnets or anything, but you don't want Carmen to find another reason to frown at you. He's been basically only frowning or ignoring you. Hard to tell which one is worse.

You always clean your hands super thoroughly, like during COVID, singing the "Happy Birthday" song to time it before daring to even stick your finger in the restaurant. Sydney offers you an apron to protect your work clothes, which you refuse. You sense from some people there that you're not entirely welcome.

But the more you avoid Carmen, the more likely you are to bump into him. You know Murphy's Law. So one morning, he just appears from around the corner, carrying a tray of mushrooms.

For a second, you're actually horrified that he's going to introduce himself. Before that can happen, you blurt out, "Uh—do you remember me? Copenhagen?"

Carmen stops and looks at you, wiping his wet hands on the towel attached to the string of his white apron. "Yeah," he confirms, "yeah, I do." He says your name, all soft and correct, along with your surname, and with his eyes fixed on you, you're frozen to the spot, affected whether you like it or not. Then he leaves to taste Tina's roasted peppers.

Obviously, your mind can't let the episode slip away. As you type copy for the upcoming Instagram posts, you pause every so often to cringe at how embarrassing you behaved. Of course, he remembers you, for fuck's sake! You're working in his restaurant—kinda.

"Hey! Copenhagen! You wanna see this?" Carmen yells a bit later from the other side of the kitchen, and you falter, deciding whether you're really going to answer to him calling you that.

You bite your tongue and trail hesitantly to the station where Carmen is with Tina and Ebraheim, gathered around a saucepan.

"Tina, chef, this is excellent. Well done," Carmen says to her as you approach, then turns to you.

"This is what we wanna share with the world. Perfect red pepper sauce. Simple but delicious."

"Okay," you respond, taking in the expectant way all three of them are looking at you. Like you're some kind of magician. Or a fraud.

"Just," Carmen adds before he sets off, "no recipes leave this kitchen," and he waits for you to confirm.

"Right."

Slowly, you start to question why you're helping The Bear. Is it because two years ago you thought of Carmen and what you might have felt for him? What could have been? More than the chef himself, you find yourself growing fond of the place and the employees—some of them! Seeing the Instagram followers number increase fills you with pride and satisfaction. Fuck Carmen.

---

Mornings are usually the only time when Carmen isn’t around, and you try to time your visits so your paths don’t cross.

Wanting to snap photos of the new tableware and make a quick, fun video reel, you head into the kitchen. There's no one around—Sweeps is probably hiding somewhere, and Sydney might be in the office. Not wanting to bother anyone, you set your always-heavy handbag on a chair and start looking for everything you need. There's no reason for you to feel like you're sneaking around, but you can't help feeling nervous. That’s when your clumsiness strikes, and you manage to knock over a glass of water. Rolling your eyes, you get on your hands and knees to wipe the spilled water with a rug that you hope is meant for cleaning, as you’re very aware of every item having its particular function here.

You straighten up and stretch to get one more plate from the shelf. Then you lose your footing on the still-wet tiles. Your foot slips, and the top plate falls to the countertop with a loud cracking noise. You react quickly, trying to break the fall, but there's no use. The plate shatters to pieces.

Of course, it’s Carmen himself who emerges from the door leading to the office, and you wince—both physically and mentally—preparing yourself for a very unpleasant collision.

“What’s going on?” he asks as he approaches you, eyebrows pinched. He’s not wearing his chef whites, just a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans.

“Sorry, I—” you start apologizing as Carmen stands next to you, assessing the damage.

“What—what’re you doing here?” he asks in a very flat voice, staring at the pieces of ceramic.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to tidy this and also pay for the plate, obviously,” you ramble, reaching down for the shards.

“Don’t,” Carmy barks, stopping you by grabbing your shaking hands in his. His hands are big, the tattoos making them look harsh and crude, even though the touch is gentle. “Don’t cut yourself,” he adds quietly, holding you until you relax your arms and then a second longer.

He must sense your nervousness. “It’s fine, I’ll get it,” Carmen assures you, catching your eye. “Hey,” he lays a soft hand on your arm, “step away, I’ll clean this.”

Nodding, you step back and wait patiently, disconcerted, watching as Carmen carefully handles and discards the shards, then checks the floor for any tiny fragments. He turns back to you.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Yeah.” And you’re more thrown off balance by having Carmen pay attention to you, all of a sudden, than by damaging the kitchen’s equipment.

He studies you for a moment, his face unreadable, and you’re the one to look away first. Which you hate, by the way.

“You wanna see some stuff I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you agree, taking a deep breath to relax further. “I’m sorry. The loud noise—” you wave your hand in the air vaguely, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Just scared the shit out of me, I guess,” you finish with an apologetic smile.

“You’re alright,” Carmen confirms and disappears for a bit. In the meantime, you have a small meltdown, shaking your head at yourself for being so, so very terribly lame. Luckily, before he returns with a tray of different dishes, you pull yourself together.

Carmen sets the tray down, revealing an array of colorful and sophisticated meals that instantly catch your curiosity.

“Any allergies?” he asks.

“Passion fruit—easily avoidable. Sometimes kiwi,” you list. “And grumpy chefs,” you add cheekily, feeling bold.

Carmen pauses. “I’m not grumpy. I’m focused.”

“You weren’t like this in Copenhagen,” you say softly, leaning a bit closer to him, your body language signaling that once you had been comfortable around each other.

“I’m more focused now,” Carmen retorts, stubborn and maybe a bit offended. “Back then I—uhm—I felt comfortable around you. It was easy.”

“And now?” you almost whisper.

But Carmen ignores the question, pushing the first bowl closer to you. “Here, taste this… or take a picture and then taste it.”

And you understand that the re-bonding is over.

---

Soon, you drop the habit of visiting the restaurant only in the mornings. One reason is that spending time with Carmen, talking to him or watching him cook and explain things, makes you late for work twice in a row. That usually never happens as you take pride in being on time at the office. You don’t work at The Bear for money, but you hardly think about it that way. When you decide to pop in during the morning, Carmen shares his deadly strong black coffee that he mills himself with you. It’s bitter but heavenly. Secretly, you like drinking it while chewing your favorite cinnamon gum, which somehow makes the taste even better—smoother and richer.

The second reason—you discover that Carmen is much calmer in the evenings after service. Less jittery, more relaxed. His blood flows slower, you think. His heart pumps with more ease. Sydney and he share thoughts and plans for the restaurant with you while you all sit at an empty table. It’s nice, you think, while watching Carmen’s hands play with a napkin. His hands are especially nice.

It’s Saturday and raining as you find yourself sitting in Gordon Ramsay's Burger. Nothing could’ve surprised you more than Carmen asking you to go out eat together. Had he felt bad for ignoring you at the beginning? You’re watching the rivers of raindrops on the big glass window, waiting for Carmen. As usual, you’re ten minutes early, and after you order a Life’s a Beach, the first thing on your mind is you're just early, he didn't stand you up, and then: this is not a date, babe! Which instantly startles you into sitting up straight and looking around, as if someone could see your embarrassing thoughts. Why are you even thinking about this?? Then Carmen arrives, wet patches on his shoulders and jeans that cling to his thighs. He chooses the Chicago hot dog and three different burgers with a bunch of sides. While he only nibbles on them and writes down notes on his phone, you feel bad for wasting the food and eat more than you should. Carmen studies the buns very carefully and asks you a lot of questions about the food, some of which you find amusing and actually—endearing. When you go to bed that night, your belly’s uncomfortably full. You dream that you’re pregnant and about to go into labor, and you’re pretty sure that Carmen’s the father. And, honestly, do you need a book of dreams to explain the meaning? Fuck.

---

All goes to hell next week when Carmen sees you eating a sandwich from the corner shop down the street. Instead of having your regular lunch with Becky, you’ve chosen to run to The Bear so you could see Marcus unveil his new dessert. But before that, you popped into the nearby deli to order a mozzarella and sundried tomato sandwich. No one at The Bear had ever explicitly invited you to the family meal, and you would never dare to have free food there. But the way Carmen looks at you while you sit on the step by the back exit, eating the rather dry sandwich, is indescribable. The stern look on his face is back, with a closed-off facade. His eyes are cold. Before you take it all in, you wave at him awkwardly, chewing. Carmen retreats back inside wordlessly, leaving you confused and a little hurt.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere surrounding you doesn’t improve when you return to work, the stupid sandwich sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone. You have a big argument in the meeting room while planning the next month's issue. Then one of your co-workers makes a nasty remark about your single life. The afternoon drags on painfully slowly, which forces you to message your cousin—an astrologist extraordinaire—to check what the heck is going on with the universe.

Tuesday morning is rough. The second you wake up, you know you’ve overslept because you never get up without the alarm ringing angrily. A single glance at your phone proves it to be true. Right after, you notice three missed calls from Sydney and two from Nat. There are no text messages, though.

At first, you intend to call Rob to beg for a home office day, something you rarely ever use. But as soon as you check your calendar, you’re reminded of the big conference happening from 11 a.m. until 5 p.m. You rush to work, finishing your makeup on the train, then enter the office building to quickly run through notes with your colleagues. The first time you have a chance to make a quick phone call is when you finally go to the bathroom. It’s Natalie who you manage to reach first, as the lunch rush at The Bear is just unfolding. Over the cries of Natalie’s baby, you hear half-sentences about a recipe, Carmen, and a leak. It’s hard to put it all together. At 4 p.m., Nat finally sends you a text. It says: “Recipe’s published in Taste of Home. Carm’s mad. Says someone leaked it.”

It contains a link to the Taste of Home website, with Carmen’s perfect Berkswell Pudding recipe in the Top Recipes of the Week, marked “Chef’s tip.” You check it again to make sure, and surely—it’s one of the dishes Carmen introduced to you just last week. You didn’t dare to photograph it, much less taste it. You remember concentrating on the way his lips moved when he explained the preparation process, not much on the cooking itself.

What’s clear to you is that the "Someone" from Nat’s message is actually you.

A gloomy dread settles in your stomach as the meeting goes on and on. You barely pay attention, which makes everything even worse. You’re scared of what’s happened in the restaurant, and you’re worried that you’re going to miss something important in the meeting.

When you run for a second quick bathroom break, instead of peeing, you think of your next step. You could try to call everyone in the restaurant, try to find out what the hell is going on. But you don’t want to be seen as hysterical. You check Instagram and possible messages to find traces of a catastrophe. There’s nothing. Again, you open the website with the recipe. The photos are pretty sloppy, definitely not something Carmen would prepare. As you check the ingredients, you notice there are some major differences from Carmen’s dish. All in all, the only thing that stops you from texting Carmen is your pride. And true fear.

Absolutely dreading facing Carmen, you make it to The Bear during dinner time. Which, obviously, is the worst possible timing. You’re only praying that he’s not in the kitchen but hiding in his office, deep in paperwork.

It’s Sydney who you meet first as you sneak into the restaurant through the back door. She grabs your arm.

“Don’t go to talk to him now! He’s in a really, really bad mood. Natalie and I were trying to call you.” There’s genuine worry on Sydney’s face, her eyes big and honest.

“I don’t understand what happened,” you frown. You can feel a headache approaching from the intense day in the office. “I think he should tell me himself if there’s a problem.”

“I’ve been trying to work it out with him, to explain—”

“Explain what?” you question, more sternly than you usually are around Syd.

She falters. “It’s just this stupid thing—and we love having you—don’t let Carmy upset you,” Sydney half-explains. It doesn’t make much sense, and you shake your head, heading to the office. You’re more mad than afraid now.

You don’t wait for an invite after you knock shortly. Closing the door behind you, you find Carmen leaning against the desk, a bottle of water in his hand.

Everything inside of you drops the second he lays his eyes on you. There’s no doubt he’s angry.

“Didn’t Natalie tell you you don’t have to come here again?” Carmen asks curtly. “I’m surprised you think it’s okay to be here.”

Not expecting Carmen to be this harsh from the beginning, you swallow instead of answering.

“I hope that you’re happy now,” he says meanly, putting the bottle down on the desk.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you croak out, sincerely meaning it.

Carmen straightens up, watching you like a feline. “The recipe. It’s out. One fucking thing I asked not to get out, and now the whole of America can see and fucking even cook it at home.”

You’re frozen to the spot. From the very beginning, you knew that Carmen is not a person to mess with, hoping that you would never experience his anger directed at you. Now it’s happening.

You want to say something about no one being able to cook the way he does, but it’s pointless. Instead, you’re fighting off the flush on your face from embarrassment. You feel like a child being scolded, but you don’t want to look like one.

The muted but still loud kitchen noises bleed through the closed door. A shout, clattering. Not loud enough to stop Carmen from piercing you through and through with his ice-cold eyes.

“I promise I didn’t do anything like that,” you say, desperately wanting the chef to believe you. “I swear!”

Carmen pinches the bridge of his nose, one hand propped on his waist. You wait, breathless, for his next move, scared to death. The shirt you have on is wet with your sweat. The really badly smelling kind—the one your body produces when you’re stressed or scared. And you’ve been stressed since the very morning. You flinch when you move your arm and the odor hits your nose, hoping that Carmen can’t smell you. You would be mortified. The strap of your tote bag is digging into your shoulder painfully, but you don’t dare to move to put it down to relieve your arm.

“This all doesn’t—it doesn’t make any sense,” Carmen starts pacing, looking down at the floor and not at you anymore. You’re not sure if it’s better this way. “You come here, wanna do a fucking interview with me, or some shit, then you show up again—this time wanting to work here. For free! So, please, tell me—how does it sound, huh?”

Petrified, you realize how exactly it all sounds. When Carmen says it like this, it makes you look like a fraud. Like a terrible, terrible person. A liar. Your mind goes weeks back, back to the moment you actually thought of maybe digging some scoop in here, maybe convincing Carmen to do the interview after all. But it’s far from how he’s making the situation sound.

“Carmen,” you start without knowing what you want to say. Carmen’s stopped walking around the tiny office like a caged animal, and he’s again looking at you. There’s so much tension in his face, back hunched. “It sounds bad, but may I explain—”

“You may not,” he cuts you off briskly. His neck—normally a place you find sexy—is all red, and the thick vein there is getting more and more prominent by the second. “No one fucks with my business, you understand?” Oh—and he’s shouting now.

The natural defense, you didn’t know existed, is to make yourself smaller. Somehow, anyhow. You hang your head, avoiding looking at his face. You just can’t meet his eyes, even though Carmen’s bowing and tilting his head to force you to.

“It’s like I have to start asking the staff to sign an NDA,” he carries on.

Carmen’s getting slowly closer and closer to you, pushing you against the wall by the door. He’s not touching you but only because you’re not allowing it. You’re sick with humiliation. Lost for words, probably for the first time in your life.

“—and Nat fucking leaves me here—us, all of us—and that’s just not fair. I would expect so, so much more from my sister. Not that my brother was much better,” he chuckles humorlessly, but you see it’s more like an effort to catch his breath. “Lousy fuckers… Do you think you do your job well here, chef?”

He’s scaring you now. The hair by his temples and above his forehead is damp, and his gesticulation is wild and weird.

“Do we disgust you here, is that right, hm?” Carmen probably finally sees your frightened expression because he adds, “Why would you buy food somewhere else and then come here to eat it?!” You understand that he’s referring to the day he saw you eating the sandwich by the rear exit. Unsure whether he expects you to reply, you decide to stay quiet. Your knees are starting to shake, from exhaustion after the long day and perhaps, from Carmen’s current behavior.

“It made ME sick,” he says, his face just inches from yours when one of his hands slams into the thin wall right next to your head. The noise echoes in the room, and you’re desperately hoping it’s not loud enough for the others to hear from outside. You would die on the spot if they knew what’s going on here.

“Who do you think you are?” Carmen shouts some more, loud, by your ear. It vibrates through you and never stops. You’re shivering all over, you notice. It’s not okay, not okay!

At last, you raise your head, chin jutting out. “No one’s going to talk to me like this. No one,” you spit out in the chef’s face, taking him by surprise. “Don’t you ever shout at me again,” and you jab him right in the middle of his chest, instead of punching him there like he deserves.

When you’re leaving his office and rushing to the back exit, you hear Carmen yelling.

Everything feels tense and your hands are shaking. Your jaw is set so hard your teeth could crush from the pressure. The fresh air hits your face, and you focus on breathing deeply through your nose. The sounds remind you of a steam engine. You walk for about a minute, mind blank with the shock. Only when you turn a corner do you allow yourself to stop, which causes the first tears to fall. You’re so mad at yourself. Why the fuck are you crying?! There’s so much frustration in the crazy mixture of emotions you’re feeling. You’re completely overwhelmed with it, not knowing what to focus on at first.

Out of habit, you look for your phone in your handbag to check the screen. The fucking heavy bag that’s been killing your shoulder. Frustrated, you let it slide off your arm and down to the sidewalk. You don’t even care if it breaks, as it lands with a noisy, dull sound. It had been years since you got properly yelled at, and you’re angry that it affects you this much. You promise yourself to take a few seconds here, in the middle of an empty street, then call a cab. At home, you can cry.

PART II

[sweetprfct]

Permanent December

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Sara have been best friends for a while now and when Sara had started dating Wes, you realized he also had a best friend. Joe. But somehow, you and Joe tend not to get along all the time.

Author's Note: This was my very first Joe series I ever wrote in my old blog, and I know many of you had requested for me to re-publish it, so here it is! A note, this series was written when I was inspired by @icallhimjoey's To Have and To Scold fic series. She and I have also talked about a scene here that would be coming in the future parts, so I don't want any drama nor controversy over this again. It's old and had been resolved. Thanks and enjoy! :)

Wordcount: 3.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

It wasn’t the first time you have visited Germany. It was actually a few times now that you have visited the country, and you were so excited because you were able to see your best friend, Sara, again. You two met online and ever since then, you two were inseparable. It was hard at the beginning because you lived in California, and she lived all the way across the ocean. The time difference was a bitch too, but you two tend to always give each other time to message each other every day. 

The friendship started off slow. You two realized that you both shared the same interests in movies and then the friendship started blossoming when you two started getting to know each other more. Especially on the day when you were struggling trying to break off your toxic relationship with your ex. You had texted Sara that night, bawling your eyes out while laying on your bed. It was around midnight already in Germany, but she was always there for you. She stayed up to listen to you venting about how your ex had emotionally abused you for two years now. Sara had listened, and she had encouraged you to break it off already, but you were scared. Terrified of the reaction with what your ex might give off if you had decided to break it off. 

Eventually, you gathered up all your courage and finally cut off ties with the asshole. 

And Sara? 

She was there when you went through the post-breakup phase and started healing yourself after the toxic relationship. After a year, you even flew to Germany for the first time to finally meet her and it was so fun. Both of you went to the Christmas market that December and got tipsy with all the Glühwein that you both drank that night. Those two weeks went by so fast that you wished you could have stayed longer but unfortunately, you also had a job to attend to. So, this vacation in Germany has become a yearly thing for the last three years around your birthday. You’d fly there around December and you two would visit the Christmas market and get drunk with all the Glühwein and eat crêpes.

But Sara was just a human. 

A woman. 

She told you one night that she wanted to go out there and meet someone, but she really didn’t know how to start a conversation with someone in real life, didn’t she? Sure, she was okay having conversations on the internet but in real life? She was shy. So shy, but she could feel the loneliness creeping up on her. So, you encouraged her. The same way she was always encouraging you. The same way she wanted good things for you. Sara, after all, deserved amazing things. She deserves someone that would love her and take care of her. So you encouraged her at the beginning to maybe meet some mutual friends but that didn’t work out too well. They were all arrogant men that didn’t deserve her. So then, you encouraged her to try online dating. Initially, it wasn’t great either until she went on vacation in London. 

She hadn’t thought much about it when she was there. She didn’t realize that her location in the app had changed. She would swipe left and right and didn’t even recognize that the location had changed. She had texted you one night that a notification appeared on her screen. 

A match! 

She got another match and guess what? He lived in London. And just like from all her matches, Sara had freaked out. She didn’t know what to do, so you told her that she should go for it. A little conversation wasn’t going to hurt and so, she decided to listen to your advice. Looking back at it, you thought maybe you should have shut your mouth in the first place because the conversation went well. 

Oh, they got along really well. 

They talked for a couple days while she was in London and decided to meet up. Sara didn’t even expect the first meeting to go well.

“He was really sweet and a gentleman.” She had told you through the phone. “He understood me well, and I told him I wasn’t from London, but he said that he didn’t mind and that he wanted to get to know me better.” 

She mentioned Wesley was his name or Wes as she calls him, and you were so happy for her because she had found someone, and you only wanted nothing but love and happiness that your best friend deserved. That was until you had flown that December for your annual vacation to visit Sara, and Wes was there. You had finally met the one man that was making her joyful for a year now, and you were so ecstatic to finally meet him. 

Sara was right. He was nice and understanding, but he was also goofy and funny at the same time. It was like they both had balanced each other’s personalities out. Everything was going great until three days later when you and Sara were hanging out in her apartment, and you found Wes out on the balcony talking to his phone. 

“So, how is everything going on with you two?” You asked Sara, your eyes shifting towards Wes on the balcony and then back at her. 

“Great!” Sara smiled, her eyes were full of love and you could see it. “He visits me here a lot and sometimes, I fly to London too.”

“That’s good that the distance doesn’t come between you two.” 

“No, not really. We both understand each other, and we also have jobs to focus on anyway. I think we just learned how to balance everything out.”

Before you could continue the conversation, both of your attentions were caught to the sound of the door sliding open. You both turned around and saw Wes entered with a huge enthusiastic smile plastered on his face. He had been on that balcony for over ten minutes, and you had wondered how he wasn’t cold from the freezing winter air outside but it seemed like that phone call was important. From the way his expression was at the moment, it looked like good news came out of it. 

“Guess what?” Wes said excitedly, sitting next to Sara and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

Both of you stared at him, waiting for him to continue with whatever good news he was about to announce. 

“My best friend, Joe,” Wes glanced at Sara. “I convinced him to come here and join us since he was in Paris anyway for his work.” Wes then shifted his eyes towards you and smiled, “And so he could also finally meet you too.”

You heard about Joe. Sara had mentioned him. She also had mentioned that he wasn’t just any ordinary Joe because he was Joseph Quinn, the actor from Stranger Things. The Eddie Munson character that you heard everyone had been obsessing about.

As someone that worked as a production assistant in LA, you heard many things in the Hollywood industry. You sure have heard about Joe, and you really haven’t paid much attention to him. You never watched the show either and so when Joe had come to Germany to join the three of you, you didn’t expect yourself to treat him differently. 

After all, he was just another human being too. Wes had picked him up from the airport late afternoon and brought him to Sara’s apartment. As you have expected, from the pictures you have seen, he looked the same in real life. The same curly hair, big chocolate button eyes and a small shy smile that tugged on his face. He looked a bit exhausted but you figured that was from the plane ride. He wasn’t too casual either. He was wearing some nice gray trousers and a blue button up with a big fancy coat that you swore his whole outfit were designer brands along with his black shiny chelsea boots that looked a bit expensive too. 

You were nice. You were understanding at the beginning because you knew that Joe was important to Wes and Wes was important to Sara, and Sara was important to you. So you were nice. 

You were understanding. 

You were understanding when he had walked into that door and Wes had introduced him to you and all he did was give you a small smile and didn’t really say anything else. Sara had talked about him to you and how he was kind and funny. Though, that didn’t seem to be the same man that was standing in front of you that she described through texts and phone calls. 

Joe had probably stood in the doorway of her living room for about an hour without saying one word. He would chuckle or talk to Wes or Sara, but he never looked at you. But you were understanding, remember? You understood that he just came from work all the way from Paris. 

“Why don’t we all go to the Christmas market tonight?” Sara suggested that afternoon.

The Christmas market? But that was yours and Sara’s thing. 

Sure, you didn’t mind Wes being here during the only time you were able to see Sara. You didn’t mind Joe tagging along even if he seemed to be so quiet all day. But the Christmas market was a girls’ night, and you wished it had stayed that way but just like the way life was, things changed. So, you went along with it. You didn’t want to be selfish, especially if Sara was happy. You didn’t want to ruin that. You didn’t want to be the one who ruined this vacation.

The night was freezing and the market was buzzing with crowds of people. You had kept yourself next to Sara the whole time, while Joe did the same with Wes on the other side. You tried your best to have a conversation with everyone, but Joe just seemed so disinterested with you and as the night went on, it started bothering you. 

You two only just met but why did he look like he hated you already? It only bothered you even more when the four of you were walking around the market, enjoying the evening, and eating crêpes, but Joe had his eyes laser focused on his phone. His brows were all furrowed, and he looked tense. He looked like he didn’t want to be here right now, and you wondered if your presence was the reason why. 

Be nice. You reminded yourself. 

So, you offered to take the glass of Glühwein that Wes and Sara ordered to hand it to Joe, who was busy standing in the corner. His eyes were still glued to his phone and you wondered maybe if you had broken the ice, it would help him feel a bit more comfortable around you. 

“Glühwein?” You asked, handing the glass of hot wine in front of him. 

Wes and Sara were right behind you, and Joe had finally gazed up from his phone and just stared at you for a moment and then his eyes shifted to the hot glass that you were still holding in front of him. 

“Oh,” he said, his eyes looking disappointed. “I could have paid for one myself.”

“Sara paid for it.” You said, feeling a bit offended. 

Joe stared at Wes and Sara, who were standing behind you and then back at the glass before taking it and muttering a small thank you to you. 

That stung.

That hit you a little bit right on the chest. So, he only took the glass because Sara paid for it? So, if you had paid for it, he wouldn’t have taken it? That bothered you to the core. That insulted you. You didn’t know what you did for him to act like that, but you were understanding and so you tried to let it go.

You really did.

So, when Wes and Joe had distanced themselves for a moment that night because Wes was looking at some Christmas decorations that he knew his mum would love, you were occupied with Sara looking at different colorful Christmas lights. With the alcohol running in your system already, you couldn’t help but blurt out the words that you have been hiding all night to your best friend.

“Is he always like that? Joe?” You asked, looking over your shoulder where Wes and Joe were. “You know… seems disinterested with the surroundings around him?”

Sara shrugged, chuckling softly. “I think he’s just tired from work. Wes said he had been busy, but I swear. He really is nice.”

You let out a soft hum and nodded your head, believing what Sara had said because she was your best friend and you trusted her. 

But that wasn’t the case, was it? 

Because for the next three years, that behavior never stopped radiating off of him. You tried your best to really understand him and be nice, but you were starting to hold a bit of frustration inside with the way he acted around you. 

The annual Germany vacation that you took had changed for the next three years. It became a thing where Wes and Joe would also fly over and the four of you would hang out. You would all go to the city and drink. Of course, not to forget the usual Christmas market that the four of you would visit. 

There was that time where you worked on the set of a show in LA, and Joe had shown up as a guest star. You weren’t surprised at all to see him since both of you worked in the same industry. The one thing that surprised you was when he showed up on set and directly stared into your eyes and then walked away as if he didn’t know you. 

God, that pissed you off. 

Thank god, you only saw him that one day and never again until you would fly to Germany during the holiday season. 

You never told Sara nor Wes how you felt about Joe because you didn’t want to be the one who created the drama in the group. You wanted everyone to get along and so, when you had visited Germany again, you would let yourself drown in conversations with Wes and Sara. Your eyes would shift from time to time with Joe, and you would hear him chuckle or reply to Wes in a conversation. You tried your hardest to not let it bother you and let the conversation flow normally. 

That was easier. 

It was easier when Sara and Wes were around because then, you could just focus your attention on them. It was harder when Sara and Wes would go galloping to some stand at the Christmas market and check out the things that they were selling. It left you and Joe behind in an awkward silence. You didn’t blame them though. They deserved to spend time with each other but you spending time with Joe? 

Absolutely not. 

So, you busied yourself and went to check out the other stands and what they were selling. You tried your best to focus on what was in front of you, but you couldn’t help but notice how Joe had followed behind you. You understood that he didn’t want to interrupt what Wes and Sara were doing but couldn’t he just go somewhere else? Leave you alone? You studied the Christmas dolls that one of the stands were selling and saw from the corner of your eye how Joe just stood next to you. He didn’t say anything, so you just continued to check out the dolls and picked one up. 

“You like dolls?” 

You were taken aback from his sudden voice. Did Joe really just talk to you? Did he have too much Glühwein that he was probably drunk enough that he just started talking? 

You hesitated for a moment and thought maybe he was finally being nice, so you gave him a chance.

“No, my grandmother used to collect them.” You answered, setting the doll back on the table. 

“Ah,” He nodded his head and picked one up that was a little boy, wearing a Christmas outfit. It was a porcelain doll, and it almost looked too fragile to hold on to. “They look a bit creepy, don’t they?” 

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, agreeing with him. “Yes, they do. I have told my grandmother the same thing.” 

“I don’t blame you. I would say the same thing.” Joe grimaced at the doll before setting it back on the table.

Were you two really having a normal conversation right now? Almost too good to be true. 

From the last three years of knowing Joe, you both never had a conversation like this. Maybe he really was drunk. Who knows… but you were just going to go along with it. If it was going to make hanging out with your friends easier this way, you were going to go along with it.

You picked up another doll that was in front of you and realized this one looked a bit more raggedy. Very old. It had a red Christmas dress, but it looked like the hair wasn’t as great as the other ones.

“That looked a bit like you.” Joe commented. 

Well, that good conversation lasted only a minute. Was he kidding? Did he really just call you old and raggedy? You certainly had enough of him. Sara and Wes might like Joe, but you were tired of his behavior. You were tired of being nice, and you definitely were tired of trying to understand him. Your expression turned bitter as you set the doll back on the table and made your way around Joe, walking away from him.

“Hey! Wait.” He called out, touching a part of your arm with his fingertips. Almost like he was scared to touch you. “I’m sorry. I was just joking.”

He was sorry? He was sorry that he called you ugly? Was he also sorry that he has hated you ever since you two met three years ago? You’ve had enough of him, and you were ready to give him a piece of your mind. You couldn’t let him keep treating you like this.

“Hey guys!” 

You were interrupted by Sara, waving at you two to come over to where they were. Your lips parted, ready to yell at him but decided to shut your mouth. You dropped a glare at him before walking over to where Sara and Wes were. You heard Joe exhale sharply before following behind you and a fake smile tugged on your face as soon as you saw how excited Sara and Wes were.

“So, Wes and I were thinking…” Sara gazed up to Wes before they both exchanged looks and turned their attention back to you and Joe. “Maybe next December, we could spend the month in London?”

In London? 

Your eyes widened at the sudden suggestion that Sara had made. She wanted to spend a month in London? The holidays? The cold winter? Well, it wasn’t like Germany wasn’t cold but still… She wanted the four of you in London? 

You pursed your lips, thinking how you were sort of hesitant about this idea. That meant coming over to where Wes was from. Where Joe was from. He was already an ass in a foreign land, how was he going to act in his own city?

“You haven’t been there yet! We could show you around.” Sara added, pulling you into a hug. “It will be so much fun.”

Maybe she had too much alcohol. Maybe she will change her mind by tomorrow. You watched as Sara started pouting her lips and gave you her puppy dog eyes. Your eyes shifted to Wes, who was just chuckling at his girlfriend. He was no help at all. 

Of course, he was enjoying this. 

You turned to glance over at Joe from behind you. He didn’t say anything, but he had a big frown on his face. You could already see how he didn’t want you to be there but the petty and revengeful part of yourself wanted to torture him more. Plus, Sara was still standing in front of you with her puppy dog eyes, begging for you to agree. 

He was going to be an asshole? Then, you will torture him more with your presence. 

“Fine.” You agreed as Sara squealed in excitement and hugged you tightly.

“Oh, this is going to be fun! You will love London.” Sara exclaimed. 

This was going to be fun, alright. 

*********

Taglist:

@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @munsonluvrr @ali-r3n @ficsbypix @capricornrisingsstuff @missonlypost @ali-in-w0nderland @amberolivia666 @lalalala-melmosworld @niallersfreckles @nanas-lasagna @emma77645 @indulgence-be-thy-name @readergf @ladamari68 @1paire2vans @d4rk4ng3l86 @paleidiot @josephquinnsfreckles @readergf @mvnsonlover

[dearly-somber]

coffee dates and christmas carols

-> pairing. non-idol!jisung x female reader

-> genre. Christmas!fic, fluff, s2l (strangers-to-lovers)

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1542

-> warnings. Ji’s a little nervous but otherwise the only warning you need is “tooth rotting fluff” ㅠㅠ

-> a/n. First (posted) SKZ fic yay! This was inspired by the EXchange SKZ Code, bc Hannie’s just too fucking adorable, n I wanna eat him ;(

-> skz drabble, oneshot & series m.list

-> started. Sun, Dec. 24th, 2023 @ 01:15

-> fin. Mon., Dec. 25th, 2023 @ 13:43

-> edited. Mon., Dec. 25th, 2023 @ 16:52

-> divider credit. @saradika-graphics

“Han.” Minho grabs onto Jisung’s shoulders and laughs at the panicked roundness of his boba-brown eyes. “You look fine. You’re cute and approachable and if she agreed to go on a date with you in the first place, I’m sure she likes you at least a little bit.”

Jisung nods slowly, though he finds himself still worrying his lower lip as Minho fixes the light brown cap he threw on randomly. He pulls at the sleeves of his sweater, but Minho swats his hands, so he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sleeveless puffer jacket instead.

It’s Christmas Day, and Jisung—miraculously—has a date, and with the prettiest girl he’s seen, no less. He didn’t know how he did it, but after some stuttered blubbering (“Hey, I’m sorry, I saw you across the st-store and I thought you were really—really pretty, and I was wondering if-if it would be okay if, maybe, you wanted to g-go out some time? With me? But, only if you’re free!”), he’d managed to get your number, and also a date for when you’d be free.

Which happened to be on the busiest day of December, but whatever.

“Where are you meeting her, again?” Chan asks from somewhere in the living room—Jisung can’t turn to check because he’s too busy looking at himself in the mirror, trying to internalize Minho’s assurances. Does he really look cute? Cute is always good…

“Beans & Biscuits. It’s a café somewhere close to where the Christmas lights are gonna go off later tonight.”

“Oh, that’s so cute! Did she suggest it?”

Han smiles, a little bashful as he recalls the short text conversation. “Yeah… Messaged me the day after I got her number. She said it’s really cute and cozy and kind of unknown by the greater majority of people, and that it’s kind of a mix between a café and a painting studio, or something like that. She seemed really excited about it in the voice notes she sent,” he couldn’t help but laugh fondly at the memory of your excited ramblings about your “favorite place on planet earth other than your bed”.

“Alright, well. Let us know if we need to pick you up or something.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“No—

“Blah blah blah,” Minho snarks as he ushers Jisung out of the front door of their apartment, reminding him of those cliche moms you see in animated movies. “You’re gonna be late!”

“I—fuck, you’re right!—“

“Just be yourself!” Minho gives Jisung’s ass a firm slap, cackling at the loud yelp that leaves his lips.

Jisung mutters curses under his breath as he goes down the stairs two at a time, rubbing the sting out of his ass. The air outside is cold enough to make him shiver as he exits the apartment lobby, his teeth chattering as he tucks his hands further into the pockets of his puffer jacket, subconsciously lifting his shoulders into his ears in an effort to fend of the cold trying to clamber its way down his sweater collar. His sneakers shuck-shuck-shuck against the growing layer of snow on the sidewalks, eyes honed in on the cute frost-covered sign hanging above the café’s door.

He steps inside with a little jingle (courtesy of the bell hanging above the entrance), puffing out a breath of cold air as he rubs his hands together, blowing into them to bring back some of the severely lacking warmth in his fingers. His eyes search for you, trying to spot you among the surprising number of patrons waiting for take-aways or tables, a few small groups or couples already seated around the modernly furnished estate.

“Jisung!”

His head snaps in your direction mere seconds before you’re standing on the tips of your toes, inches in front of him. Your arms wrap around his neck and bring him down in a hug that sends a bolt of electricity through his nervous system. With his arms slung loosely around your waist and his nose tucked into your shoulder, he notices that you smell like freshly baked Christmas cookies and machine-made cappuccino—it’s sweet and invades his senses so wholly, he half forgets to pull away.

“You look nice,” he says dumbly, admiring your coffee-date-appropriate outfit: white button up, brown tie, green sweater (crocheted, Jisung thinks), brown pants, white sneakers, and a cute little beige satchel-type baggie slung across your chest.

With the most blinding grin Jisung thinks he’s ever seen, you tuck a strand of hair behind your hair. “You too,” you say. “You look really cute, actually.” You pinch the hem of his sweater sleeve between your fingers. “I really like your sweater.”

Jisung doesn’t bother feeling self conscious about the heat in his cheeks. “Thank you,” he says.

You nod as an answer, clearing your throat before taking hold of his wrist and pulling you to the back of the café. “I found us a table!”

It’s right in the back, in a small nook sequestered away from everyone else, where the soft sound of Christmas carols can be heard clearer than anywhere else in the shop. “It’s my favorite,” you say. “It’s a really nice spot for reading. I sit here all the time.”

Jisung slides into the seat across from you with excitement bubbling beneath his fingertips, a soft smile on his face. “The place feels magical,” he admits.

“It is,” you sigh dreamily, looking up at the ceiling with an intensely fond smile. “I wanted to wait before I ordered a drink, since it’ll get cold without you, but I went ahead and ordered us two mini-easels and some paint…I hope you don’t mind. I chose brown since it kind of fits with the vibe of the shop, so I hope you don’t mind—“

“You’re fine, Y/N. I’m not much of an artist anyway, so it doesn’t matter,” Jisung assures with a brave pat to your hand, finding comfort in your rambling; you’re just as nervous as he is, so there’s no reason for him to be such a live-wire.

You exhale in a chuckle, “Right, sorry. I’m just so excited. I’ve been looking forward to this, actually.”

Jisung’s eyebrows lift. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You grin shyly, fiddling with your sleeves. “I think you’re really cute, you know?”

Jisung feels himself blush. “Me too,” he says dreamily.

“You think you’re cute?” You smirk.

“No! No, I meant I—you’re cute, also! You’re very cute! Adorable even!”

You burst out laughing, and Jisung can’t help but smile and laugh along, feeling his heart swell in his chest when you look at him again, this time with sparkling snowflakes in your eyes.

You and Jisung order your drinks—Jisung an americano, you a hot chocolate—before setting to work on your little easels, laughing and chatting as the two of you talk.

You paint a little portrait of Jisung as he works, not at all bad looking, and Jisung promises to treasure it forever.

“Don’t be disappointed if it’s bad,” Jisung warns, biting his lip as he turns his easel over, showing you the little teddy bear he painted, little hearts in the background.

“Oh, but it’s so cute,” you sigh, reaching out to bring his paining closer. “This is amazing!”

“No,” Jisung denies shyly, trying to hide his grin as he sips at the last of his americano. He wonders if you want another round.

You gasp loud enough to have him jumping in his seat. “The Christmas lights!”

Jisung’s eyes widen. “Shit, are we late?”

“No! Not if we hurry!”

Jisung reaches for his wallet but yelps when you grab his hand and start yanking him out of the store. “Wait, we haven’t pay—“

“It’s fine! Put it on my account!” You call over your shoulder, pushing past the doors and intertwining your fingers with Jisung’s as you run down the street.

By the time you make it to the city square, you’re standing far enough back in the busy streets to see the big-ass Christmas tree in the center, it’s lights still dimmed.

Jisung turns to you with a heaving chest, and the two of you laugh with your entire chests, nearly keeling over.

He exhales with another chuckle, letting his eyes glance down at your intertwined hands. Your hands are smaller than his are—softer, too. They fit perfectly between his own, and it brings a smile to his face—

“O-oh, I’m sorry, I—“ You try to pull away, but Jisung’s eyes widen as he holds your hand tighter, pulling you closer to his chest.

“No, I” —he clears his throat— “I don’t mind. I…” He clears his throat; whispers, “…really like holding your hand, actually.”

“I like holding your hand, too,” you whisper back, your eyes drifting to his lips. Jisung licks them, swallowing the excited lump in his throat as you take a step closer, your hand on his shoulder. “I really want to kiss you,” you confess.

Jisung nods dazedly, hoping you don’t notice the sweat collecting on his palms, the nervous excitement with which he stares at your lips. “Me, too.”

And even as people around him yell excitedly, and the background erupts into a myriad of Christmas-coded colors and sparks, the only thing Jisung can focus on is the taste of sweetener on your pillow-soft lips.

[eternal-love]

Austin and me

“He’s changing.”

“Wife to the ‘king’. Icon to the world. Destined for more.”

Summary: At 18 years old, she fell in love with Austin, at 20 years old, she became his wife, by 22, she was his doll. In which Cynthia’s life changed drastically after falling head over heels with a man that promised her the moon and the stars. She takes us down the memory lane of what could’ve been— the perfect marriage.

Inspired by the book: Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley.

I do not condemn any of the portrayals I decide to do about certain people, it’s just fanfiction. And it would be divided in parts.

English isn’t my first language so I’m trying my best!

MASTERLIST.

I wasn’t proud of my affair. Who is ever proud of any relationship that’s based off betrayal? And I HATED, HATED, HATED that every time I was with Callum. I thought of— him.

I didn’t want to sound vulgar. I am a grown woman. I’m sure I can say fuck, shit, etc. But sex, how can I talk freely about sex— let alone the sex in some scandalous affair?

Could I say that whenever Callum thrusted deep in me, I often thought of Austin doing so. How much I wanted to hear Austin’s voice as Callum whispered whatever dirty things he thought about as he tried to make me come for the third time.

Sex with Callum was different. It wasn’t as good as with Austin, but he was much more dominating in some ways. For most of our relationship and marriage, I was the one that had to initiate things with Austin. Like laying in bed and casually sliding my hand onto his pants, or sitting in his lap as he read scripts. With Callum, it was different. He knew what he wanted and he took it; shamelessly. Austin was a fan of more soft sex. Callum was more aggressive. Austin liked it soft core. Callum hard core. They were both two ends of the coin. Yet my heart always ached for Austin…

“M’gonna shower, baby…” Callum whispered to me after he was done. I laid on the bed and nodded. I watched him walk into mine and Austin’s bathroom.

Austin wasn’t home, he was off to some random library he found and then to his pottery classes. I grabbed my phone from the bedside table and saw that I had a message from Austin.

‘omw to pottery. gonna make u something :))’

I sighed and sent him a thumbs up before putting the phone down and rubbing my face. After his shower, Callum came out the bathroom all freshened up.

“What’s with the face?” Callum asked me as he smirked.

“Nothing. Just, texting Austin and all that.” I rolled my eyes.

“That fast? You hurt me, love. You really do.” Callum faked offense, placing his hand on his chest. I chuckled and threw one of the cushion towards him.

To be honest, I wasn’t in love. I never thought I could love two men at the same time. The problem was that I myself did not know if I loved Austin.

“He won’t change. Men like him never do.” Callum grabbed my jaw softly.

“I know.” I answered before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He left.

I was at home after Callum left, I had Lori running around the kitchen as I made dinner. I was making a salad.

“Mommy. Up!” Lori said, wanting to sit on the kitchen counter.

“But you better sit still, alright?” I picked her up and sat her in the countertop as I moved around.

“What… what are we making, mommy?” Lori had an advanced speech but her whiny little voice was my favorite thing about her.

“I am making a chicken salad.” I kissed Lori’s cheek. She “helped” me while holding the tomatoes in her hands.

I liked spending time with Lori, for most of the time— she was my only friend. It was sad but true. As she helped be bake things for the rest of the week, I heard the door open and close, it was Austin.

As I took Lori in my arms and walked to the foyer, I saw Austin… holding a tree?

“I can explain. I thought that we could have a little Christmas spirit. C’mon, Christmas is around the corner.” He smiled at me as he held the tree.

“Where did you even get that?” I laughed, but Lori was already kicking excitedly. Once she knew Christmas was getting closer, she knew her birthday was just around the corner.

“Uh— I kinda saw a man selling them on the street. He totally scammed me but I wanted to bring my favorite girls a surprise.”

How could he be so sweet? How dare he? After being a dick, after being a cowards and having two affairs. Why was he so sweet now? Why was he trying to change? It made me feel more guilty about my very own affair. Why was I cheating on a man that was trying to actively change? I felt like the worst wife in the world.

I needed my mother to hug me. But turns out I was the mother in this situation.

He got closer to me and kissed me, taking Lori from my arms before smiling at us. I hated his smile. I hated how charming he was. How easily it was for me to forgive his behavior and actions.

“I made you a vase.” He pointed at his tote bag.

And I would lie if I said it wasn’t the most attractive thing a man had ever done for me. Like it was a handmade vase from him. COULD HE BE ANY HOTTER?

I felt like drowning on my guilt. As if my own lie was starting to eat me whole from within me.

“Thank you.” I accepted the vase with a smile. “I don’t even know what to say. What do you say after getting gifted a vase?”

Afterwards, we had dinner. A nice family dinner. He held my hand all throughout it. And that night— it was the first night he made love to me for the first time after months.

But he was rough, almost like Callum. And my blood went cold as he whispered to me.

“Does he fuck you like I do?”

I quite literally stopped moaning, he took my breath away with his words. He smirked and looked down on me.

“I want you to stop seeing him. I want you to stop behaving like an unloved woman when you know damn well I love you.”

I felt like the worst wife in the world. Did he feel like this after I caught him cheating on me, twice? I wonder. He never looked this guilty. Maybe I was in too deep. Maybe I just— loved too much.

I AM SO SORRY. OH MY GOD.

ALMOST 4 MONTHS WITHOUT WRITING.

Those months were crazy. I was finishing high school, exams, projects, my graduation. University, everything was chaos. I apologize again.

[writingisartdarling]

I have a serious obsession with older couples, as my followers already know. This inspired me to list the MANY things that make me go all swoon when I see two people so much as look at each other...Let's just say these old couples have gotten my expectations for love so high that I'll end up being single my whole life.

So here we have...

"I love you" - otp prompts

buying the other a whole *** house for Christmas (iykyk)

using pet names

hands on the other's waist

awkward giggles after a kiss

smiling into a kiss or right after it

walking hand in hand/arm in arm

giving the other flowers when they come home from town

playing with the other's hair

"text me when you get home"

exchanging looks across the room

gentleman manners, etc. holding out a door for the other or letting the lady walk furthest from the road and walking between her and the cars

forehead kisses

bathing the other especially if they're sick

slow dancing while the other hums

having no friends other than their significant other

sitting on the other's lap

complimenting the other's looks and them blushing

fidgeting with ring(s) they've been gifted from the other

late night talks

brushing the other's hair for them

smiling when their significant other is so much as mentioned

legs touching under a table

teasing

making the other's drink or meal just like they like it

husbands doting on their wives

hugs from behind

sharing things about their day with the other

working together

searching for them in a room full of people

helping the other shave their beard

mistletoe kisses

being protective over the other

cooking together

communicating without words

reading together

making the other breakfast in bed to surprise them in the morning

having a late-night meal together

the other having cold toes and the other having to warm them up in bed

getting jealous

inside jokes

love letters/messages

not being able to take their eyes off of their significant other

braiding the other's hair

cuddles after sex

marrying one's best friend

growing old together

taking a bath/shower together

making up by making out after a fight

putting a blanket over the other when they fall asleep on the couch

having a song that always reminds them of the other

welcome home kisses

having the same last name (as in changing their last name when getting married)

helping the other undress

staying home to look after the other when they're sick

whispering sweet nothings to the other's ear

carrying an umbrella for the other when it rains

Look, the list could on and on...Perhaps that gives you an idea, though. Feel free to share your own if you made it this far. I hope you have a lovely rest of the week <3

[allthingsfangirl101]

Love Test – Joe Keery

Inspired by Big Bang Theory S8 E16

Working on Fargo was an interesting experience. The cast was great, but I couldn't help but feel like they all knew something that I didn't. I've been doing the actors' hair and makeup so I have a lot of one-on-one time with each person.

Fargo was my first big job. Before this, I worked in my mom's salon, mainly doing the hair of sixty-year-old women. One of my clients knew someone who knew someone whose nephew worked with FX. Through the grapevine, my mom found out that FX needed a new makeup and hair person.

I get along fairly well with the cast, but there was always something a little awkward between me and one of the younger cast members: Joe Keery. I've seen him act in person and he's really good, but when we get one-on-one, the only thing we're able to do is maintain awkward small talk.

Barely.

"Y/N, are you coming?" David Rysdal asked.

I turned around to see a few of the cast mates walking into the makeup trailer.

"To what?"

"Party at my house!"Jon Hamm laughed.

"Oh," I laughed awkwardly.

"You're coming right?" Juno Temple asked.

"I'll stop by," I shrugged.

"Great!" Jon Hamm cheered. "See you tonight at 7."

I didn't want to go, but after 5 seasons, this season's cast has been putting in more of an effort to get me to hang out with them. I went home after we wrapped up for the day and put more work into making myself look good. When I showed up, the party was in full swing. Jon really did invite everyone on set.

Two hours and way too much drinking later, some of us were sitting around the coffee table, talking.

"Have you guys heard about this experiment to see if you could make two people fall in love in a matter of hours?" David asked.

"Hours?" I asked. "Is it even possible?"

"That's why it's an experiment, Y/N," Jennifer Jason Leigh scoffed.

"The participants ask each other a series of questions designed to promote intimacy. And they finish it off by staring into each other's eyes for four minutes," David quickly explained to lessen the awkwardness.

"We should try it!" Juno cheered as she bounced up and down.

"Y/N and Joe should try it," Jon said with a smirk that made me nervous.

"Us?" Joe and I said in sync.

I cleared my throat and added, "Why us?"

"Why not?" Juno smirked.

"I will text you both the questions," David said as he typed on his phone. I sighed when I got the message.

"You can use my office," Jon said. "It's right through there."

"Great," I mumbled under my breath. Joe and I shared a look. He stood up and reached his hand out for me to take.

"Shall we?" He asked, trying to sound light.

"Don't have much of a choice, it would seem."

It was extremely awkward as Joe and I walked into Jon Hamm's office. We sat down on the couch, neither one of us saying anything. I grabbed my phone and looked through the questions. Every single one I read, made me want the floor to open up and swallow me even more.

"Okay," Joe said as he turned toward me. "You ready?"

"I guess," I shrugged. I glanced up to see Joe looking at me weirdly. I cleared my throat and read the first question. "Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a diner guest?"

"Bing Crosby," Joe answered instantly.

"Really?" I asked. "Bing Crosby? Why?"

"I grew up watching White Christmas," Joe explained. "I've seen everything that Bing Crosby did. Also, my mom listened to his music all the time. He's the reason I went into acting."

"Oh," I said softly. "That's actually really sweet."

"Thanks," he smiled. "What about you?"

"Pat McGrath."

"Who?"

"She's a British make-up artist," I said, a blush forming. "Vogue called her the most influential make-up artist of all time. She's kind of like my idol."

"Did she inspire you to go into makeup?" He asked.

"A little," I shrugged. "My family did. My mom owns a hair salon back home. I got into makeup because I wanted to start a new business and connect it to my mom's salon. She'd do clients' hair and I'd do their nails and makeup."

"You didn't go into it," he said slowly. "Did something. . ."

"We had a falling out," I confessed when he didn't ask his question. "Technically my dad and I had a falling out. My mom was just an innocent bystander. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps of dental school while my mom wanted me to follow in hers. No matter what I did, one of them would be upset."

"I'm sorry," Joe said, his voice dropping.

I cleared my throat and looked at the list of questions. "Next question?"

"Next question," Joe nodded as he looked at his phone and read the list. "What would constitute a perfect day for you?"

"It's going to sound lame," I mumbled, messing with my fingers.

"Try me," Joe said gently as he lowered his phone.

"My perfect day would start with me sleeping in," I started to explain. "I'd wake up and put on an outfit that was comfortable but still made me look amazing."

I blushed as Joe smiled at me. Before I could wimp out, I kept talking. "I'd walk around a mall, sipping my favorite coffee drink, and go on a small shopping spree. Girly, but what can I say?"

"No judgment," Joe chuckled. "What else would you do?"

"I'd end the shopping spree at the bookstore," I confessed. "On the way home, I'd pick up my favorite dish at my favorite Italian place on Meaker."

"Girmaldis?"

"Yeah," I said slowly, a little shocked. "You know that place?"

"It's my favorite." This sudden tension that has been building since the cast put us in the spotlight, started to thicken between us. He cleared his throat before asking, "Anything else you'd do?"

"Just finish the night with binge-watching my favorite show," I said. "And then a bubble bath."

"Sounds amazing," he chuckled. "Although, I'm not much of a bath person."

"Then you've clearly never taken a good one," I teased.

"Guess not," he shrugged.

"What about you? What would your perfect day consist of?" I asked, the nerves still jumping around my stomach.

"Oh, it's super adventurous," he chuckled. "I'd sleep in and spend most of my day doing nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," he confirmed. I thought about asking him more but didn't bother to push him.

Instead, I looked down at my phone and asked the next question. "What is something that makes you feel unstoppable?"

"Weirdly enough," he chuckled, "when I'm at one of my premieres. Especially if I'm proud of what I worked on. What about you? What makes you feel unstoppable, Y/N?"

"When I see a really hard makeup look that I did on the big screen," I said instantly. Joe just smiled at me before looking back at his phone.

"If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?"

"No social anxiety," I blurted. "I just. . . I mean. . ."

"It's okay," Joe said gently. "Not everyone likes being in big groups. Hell, even I get a little bit of anxiety when I'm on the red carpet."

"That's different," I mumbled, looking down at my hands.

"You're right," he said quickly. Joe leaned over and delicately put his hand over mine. I looked up to see him smiling at me. "I'm sorry. It's not the same thing. I wish I could help you with your social anxiety."

The tension was thick between us again. It didn't seem to go away as I said, "What about you? What quality or ability would you want?"

"Don't tease me too much," he smiled as he slowly pulled his hand back into his lap, "but I wish I was better at something, anything."

"What do you mean?"

"The only thing I feel like I'm good at is acting," Joe continued. "I wish there was something else I could do. It would be nice to have something I could fall back on when acting eventually doesn't work out anymore."

"Why are you so sure it won't work out for long?"

"Actors don't act forever. It'd be nice to have a safety net," he shrugged. Without another word, he read the next question. "What is something you consider too serious to joke about?"

"People's appearances," I said a little too quickly. He looked up at me, making my face burn.

"Did someone. . ."

"Your turn," I cut him off. "What is something that you think is too serious to joke about?"

"People's relationships," Joe said, his voice soft. "I always hate when guys talk about their girlfriends like they're objects. Some things should stay between the couple. A guy shouldn't share everything with his friends."

"That's. . . Sweet," I barely got out. I cleared my throat and looked at my phone. "How do you react to anger from others?"

"Doesn't really affect me, if I'm being honest. Especially if it had nothing to do with why they're angry," he shrugged. Joe's smile dropped when he saw the look on my face. He lowered his voice as he asked, "What about you?"

"I don't handle it well," I said softly. I looked at my hands and started picking at my nail polish.

"Y/N. . ." He whispered.

"My parents used to fight a lot," I continued, my voice shaky. "It was never my fault but. . . When they fought, I'd lock myself in my room and read or listen to music. They fought all the time. The only time they weren't fighting was when they were each at work. My mom was at her salon from opening to closing. My dad was at his dental office way past closing."

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Joe said. He went to grab my hand but I grabbed my phone and read out the next question.

"Do you often listen to your intuition?"

"Not nearly enough as I should," Joe said with a small chuckle.

"Same," I said, still looking at my phone. "Last question. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone?"

"My feelings," he blurted out. I snapped my head up and looked at him.

"Your what?"

"I just. . . I have a tendency to keep my feelings to myself," he stuttered. "When I like a girl, I rarely tell her."

The tension was officially suffocating as we stared at each other. "What would you regret not saying?" Joe asked, his voice soft.

"I guess," I said slowly, "I'd regret not telling my parents how I really feel. I've never told them how much their fighting affected me. I should've been more honest with them."

"You still have the chance," he said gently. "Luckily, you're not going to die tonight so you can still talk to your parents."

"That's true," I said softly. "That also means that you can still tell a girl you have feelings for her."

The second I said it, my face burned. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't form the words.

"What's next?" Joe asked.

"Well, we finished the questions so now we stare into each other's eyes for four minutes," I said, clearing my throat. I grabbed my phone and set a timer. "Go."

I looked up, my heart instantly jumping into my throat as Joe and I made eye contact. The longer we stared at each other, the harder it was to not look away.

"Wow," Joe chuckled. "This is kinda. . ."

"Awkward," I whispered.

"But, to be honest, this has been working."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I mean, the questions got us to open up to each other. And staring into each other's eyes forms a. . ."

"Connection," I said under my breath.

"Connection," he agreed. I hadn't realized we were getting closer until our noses touched. By the time I realized it, Joe had made the first move.

My heart jumped into my throat when Joe gently pressed his lips to mine. Time froze as we slowly began moving our lips in sync. As slow as we initiated the kiss, we broke it.

"Well," I whispered, "I guess the experiment works."

"Something tells me this is exactly why the others had us do this experiment," Joe whispered.

"You're damn right!" Jon yelled from the other side of the door, making Joe and I laugh.

"Leave them alone!" Juno chastised. "If you want them to get together, you can't interrupt their moments."

"Oh boy," I sighed. Joe gently grabbed my chin, making me look at him. I blushed as he leaned in and kissed me again.

"Hey," Joe whispered, breaking the kiss. "Let's get out here."

[stephstars08]

Childhood Crushes

Jack Champion x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, Some Adult Language, Worry/Anxiety, Mention of Y/N’s ex-boyfriend, and Maybe Some Grammar Errors. (Sorry I forgot any!)

Summary: Y/N has grown up with Jack until she turned fourteen when she away with to a different state her family. Y/N is finally able to go spend Willa’s birthday with her for the first time since she moved away which also means she will be seeing Jack for the first time since she moved away. Willa believes that Y/N’s childhood crush on Jack has returned but Y/N disagrees. At least in the beginning.

Word Count: 1,532

Author’s Note: Sorry that this is so short! This story takes place during Willa’s birthday! I really got inspired to write this after seeing all the cute pictures Jack had taken with her! This will be my LAST story of 2023!! As I mentioned before after Christmas I will be going down to Disney World to spend the new year so of course I won’t be writing since I will be busy during Christmas and getting ready to go to Disney! I just want to thank you all for the amazing support you have shown on all of my stories this year! This really means the world to me so here is my Christmas gift to you all! I hope you enjoy my last story of 2023 and I can’t wait to share more stories with you all in 2024!

Y/N’s have plane had just landed and she was in an Uber on her way to her best friend’s house. She was so excited to be with Willa since it’s Willa’s birthday and they haven’t seen each other in over a year. Also, Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she spent Willa’s birthday with her. She was also excited to see her other best friend Jack who she hasn’t seen in more than one year.

Y/N has known Willa and Jack since she was a little girl since she basically grew up with them. But when Y/N turned fourteen she moved away since her mom got promoted to a different state by her job. Y/N and Willa really stayed in touch by text messages, phone calls, and video chats. When she first moved her, and Jack also stayed in touch until he got busy with his acting career. Y/N is a bit upset that her and Jack aren’t as close as they were since she had a crush on him growing up.

Y/N always knew that Jack was going to be a big actor and she wants to tell him how proud she is of him, but she’s scared that he won’t respond. As excited, she is to see him, she can’t help but be nervous to see him after all these years.

She can’t help but wonder if that childhood crush will return when she sees him.

********************

Willa was sitting in her living room flipping through the channels on the tv waiting for Y/N to show up. Y/N texted her letting her know that she is in an Uber and should be at her house soon. When Willa heard the doorbell ring, she tossed the remote down onto the couch and quickly got up and went to the door. She thought it was Y/N but when she opened the door, she saw that it was Jack standing there on the porch.

“Oh, it’s you.” Willa said acting all disappointed. “Well, hello to you, too.” Jack said pretending to be offended which made her playfully roll her eyes. “Get your ass in here.” Willa told him as she steps over to the side for him to walk inside.

Once Jack walked inside the house Willa closed the door. “Who are you expecting?” Jack asked her in a curious tone as he followed her over to the couch. “Y/N, she’s able to come here to celebrate my birthday with us.” Willa told him with nothing but excitement in her voice. “That’s awesome!” Jack said with a smile. “It’ll be good to see her again since I haven’t seen her in years.” Jack added.

“I’m going to go get some snacks from the kitchen. What do you want to drink?” Willa said to him. “Water is fine.” Jack answered her question. “Gotcha, I’ll be right back.��� Willa said walking out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Right when Jack sat down onto the couch the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it.” Jack called out to Willa as he stood up and walked over to the door. When Jack opened the door there stood Y/N. When Y/N’s eyes met his brown eyes all of those old feelings she had for him quickly flashed through her mind. Let’s just say she wasn’t expecting to see Jack opening the door.

“Y/N?” Jack said surprised by her appearance. She has changed a lot since the last time he saw her, and she changed in a good and beautiful way. “Hey, Jack.” Y/N said with a smile. “It’s been a while.” She added. “Yeah, it has.” Jack said with a nod. “You look amazing.” Jack said still amazed by her appearance. “Oh, thank you!” Y/N said as her heart rate sped up. “You look amazing, too.” Y/N complimented back. “Thanks.” Jack said as he smiled. He brought her in for a quick hug which of course she returned.

“It’s so great to see you again.” Jack told her as his eyes locked with hers. “You too.” Y/N said staring back into his memorizing hazel eyes. They continued to stare into each other's eyes until Y/N heard Willa calling her name. “Willa!” Y/N said walking past Jack. Willa ran up to her and gave her a big hug. “I’m so happy that you’re here!” Willa said holding onto her tightly. “Me too!” Y/N said with a giggle as she returned the tight hug.

********************

It was the next day and Y/N was getting ready with Willa in her bedroom. They are going to a pet farm with Jack and some more of their friends.

“Hey, you never told me what happened between you and that Colin guy.” Willa said as she sat on the end of her bed. “Ugh, he was a complete fucking nightmare!” Y/N said with a groan as she slipped on her pair of black Ugg boots. “Damn, he was that bad?” Willa said in surprise. “He was just so fucking annoying. All he talked about was himself and all the money his parents had.” Y/N explained to her as she rolled her eyes in annoyance that matched the tone in her voice. “Yeah, you don’t need that asshole.” Willa said which made Y/N let out a giggle. “You deserve better than him.” Willa added. “Thanks.” Y/N said grabbing her jacket.

“So, how did it feel to see Jack again?” Willa asked her in a curious tone. “It was good. It felt really good to see him again.” Y/N told her putting on her light jacket. “I’m sure it was.” Willa said as her lips curved up into a smirk. “What?” Y/N said looking at her with a confused look in her eyes. “Oh, c’mon Y/N! I know your childhood crush on Jack has returned.” Willa told her. Y/N should know that Willa can read her like a book. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said acting oblivious as she looked down at her feet. “Y/N don’t you play dumb with me!” Willa told her in a stern tone as she stood up from her bed. “I saw the way you kept looking at him yesterday.” Willa added folding her arms over her chest. “Willa, I’m telling you it’s nothing.” Y/N told her looking back up at her. “Okay, whatever you say.” Willa said and walked out of her bedroom. Y/N just rolled her eyes and followed her out of the bedroom.

********************

After Y/N went to the pet farm she started to believe that Willa was right. She does think that her childhood crush on Jack has retuned and this time it’s not just a small crush, it’s much bigger this time since puberty hit Jack like a fucking truck.

Every time Jack would look at her or talk to her, she would feel her heartbeat speed up. When she would talk with him it felt just like it was when they were kids. It’s like nothing had changed.

Y/N and Jack took many pictures with Willa and their friends, but they mostly took pictures together with the animals. Before Y/N fell asleep that night she couldn’t help but look at all of the pictures of her and Jack took together on her phone.

********************

It was the next night and Y/N was in Willa’s backyard with friends. They were having a mini birthday party for Willa. Y/N was sitting by the bonfire by herself. “Hey.” She heard someone say. When Y/N looked up she saw it was Jack. “Hi.” Y/N said in a soft voice. “Can I join you?” Jack asked her in curious tone. “Of course.” Y/N answered him. She watched him sit down in the chair that was next to her.

“Willa told me that you’re not going back home till after the new year.” Jack said to her which made her give him a nod. “My family and I always spend the holidays here with the rest of my family, so I’ll be staying here with Willa until they come here.” Y/N explained to him. “I’m glad to hear that since I would love to spend more time with you and catch up with you.” Jack told her. “Yeah, I’d love that, too.” Y/N agreed with him.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Jack asked her in a curious tone. Y/N gave him a nod letting him know that she is free tomorrow. “Great! I know a perfect place we can go hang out at.” Jack told her as his lips turned up into a smile. “Sounds good!” Y/N said as she smiled as well.

As they stared into each other's eyes they stared to lean in. But before their lips could touch one of their friends called Y/N’s name. “Are you going to come help me with Willa’s cake?” The friend asked her. “Yeah, I’ll meet you inside.” Y/N told the friend.

Y/N leaned over and gave Jack a soft kiss on his cheek which took him by surprise. “I’ll be right back.” Y/N told him as she stood up. As Jack watched her walk inside the house his cheeks turned a bright red.

He now knew that Willa was right. Jack’s childhood crush on Y/N has come back.

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Wide Open Spaces

Pairings -  Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary - Modern AU - Benedict and Reader explore new facets of their longtime childhood friendship. 

Warnings - 18+ Please,  Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content

Word Count - 6.2K

Author’s Note - Huge thank you to @colettebronte for giving this a once over for me before posting. And a major shoutout to @eleanor-bradstreet for writing inspiring fics for me to reference! Soundtrack inspos for this one include: Cinnamon Summer by Jome, and Honeybee by The Head and the Heart

______________________________________________

Disappointment. That was the overwhelming sensation coloring your mood as you looked down at the message on your phone. Your sister had canceled on you again. It had been six months since you last saw her and you were starting to miss her.

This always happened when she got into a new relationship. The constant companion you had known your whole life suddenly transformed into the biggest flake on the planet. You were happy she was happy, but she never saw outside of her little love bubble when there was a new guy.

At times, you could smile and write it off as an endearing quirk, but this time your irritation was a bit harder to quell. The trip you were supposed to be taking together this weekend had been planned for weeks. The excitement of seeing your baby sister and enjoying uninterrupted relaxation was the only thing getting you through the tedious tasks weighing you down at work. You knew this cloud of disappointment was going to linger for a few days.

You thought about telling her how rude she was behaving. You even thought about telling her that you didn’t care if her boyfriend had asked her to meet his parents on the same weekend as your trip. But in the end, what was the point? If she bailed on her boyfriend and came along, her legendary pout would have made the trip unbearable. If she decided to go with him despite your disgruntled plea, you both would have ended up deploying the silent treatment for months and you wouldn’t get to see her until Christmas. 

You were in the middle of texting your sad, but supportive reply when you felt a warm hand rub a reassuring circle on your back.

“Let me guess, Caroline canceled at the last minute again?” Benedict’s voice held a defensive tone. 

You sighed in resignation, “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“The look on your face. It’s the one you put on when you’re trying to be angry so you don’t have to admit how much something hurt you. And it’s usually only reserved for Caroline.” He said her name like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

“Benedict…” you scolded.

He shrugged innocently with a hint of defiance. “What? I resent her for stealing my sunshine. I was getting used to seeing you so happy. It was nice.”

“Hey,” you complained, “I’m a happy person. Most of the time…”

“I love you, darling, but no,” he laughed. “You’re delightfully grumpy and I adore you for it. You do things with depth. Depth makes it hard to be blindly happy. I wouldn’t have you any other way. It was just nice seeing you smile freely.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. He had been your best friend for your entire life. If anyone really knew you, it was Benedict. Why were you just now realizing that he viewed you this way? From your perspective, he was the only person that set you at ease. Laughter came easy when he was around. Parts of your personality came alive with Benedict because he was the only one who had earned those parts of you. Having him associate you with such a sense of bleakness didn’t sit right with you. Had he not noticed you allowing him in past your walls, or did your underlying melancholy overshadow the peace he brought into your life? You didn’t know whether to feel betrayal or guilt. Guilt if you hadn’t made it clear how much joy he brought, or betrayal for not being seen by the only person you thought capable.

You stared at the rapidly cooling cup of tea that you clutched in your hand. Anything to keep you from meeting his gaze. You didn’t know if you were ready to face what you might find reflected back in his stormy eyes. It might unravel you, and the courtyard of the college campus where you worked was not a place you were comfortable with that transpiring. You needed to go home. 

 Standing abruptly, you started to gather your things. If it weren’t for the almost comical look of panic transforming his face, you would have made a quick but silent exit. You were never able to stomach the way negative emotions haunted his features. They didn’t belong there, not coinciding with his light. 

“I’ll see you later, Ben. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. It’s happened before and it will happen again. That’s Caroline. I’m just going to go home and have a quiet weekend alone. I have a lot of manuscripts I need to catch up on for Professor Maxwell anyway. He said he would consider one of my choices to present to the publishers as the featured up-and-coming author this month. I want to make sure I’m ready.”

He didn’t seem entirely convinced by your casual tone, but he didn’t push the issue. “Alright then… but call me if you get lonely. I don’t want you cooped up all weekend having fake arguments with Caroline in your head. You get scary when you sit with your anger too long.”

“See you later, Bridgerton,” you replied with an amused grin.

Sometimes it was annoying how well he knew you, but somehow his teasing prediction already made you feel less alone. 

~~~~~~~~~~

You woke the next morning to the sound of your doorbell repeatedly beckoning you from sleep. Immediately regretting last night’s over indulgence of red wine, you rolled over to check the ring camera on your phone. It didn’t surprise you in the slightest to find Benedict standing on your porch looking far too chipper at this ungodly hour.

Clicking the microphone, you spoke through the camera so he could hear you. “Go away. Trespassers will be prosecuted.”

His grin was blinding. “Oh come on, you lazy git. Get your bum out of bed and let me in.”

“Ugghhh,” you groaned. He was impossible.

Reluctantly, you dragged yourself from the warmth of your bed and shuffled to the front door. You hadn’t given a second thought to your appearance until Benedict’s eyes took in your state.

“Ooof,” he mocked. “Good morning, Sunshine.”

You must have looked a picture as you stood there scowling at him in your pjs. “Pardon me, I wasn’t expecting uninvited company. You really are a nuisance, Ben.”

“Yeah, but I’m a lovable nuisance. You wouldn’t have let me in if I wasn’t.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned around walking back into the house, leaving him to follow you. You were going to need coffee if you wanted to get on his level anytime soon. You heard the door latch behind him as he trailed you to the kitchen. 

“So…” he asked hesitantly. “What are your plans for the day?”

You looked up at him skeptically from below the ring of your coffee mug. “I already told you my plans. There are words to be read and wine to be drunk.”

“Can you read your words and drink your wine someplace else?” He could feel you retreating into your silence so he pushed on. “Listen, I know I’m not Caroline. I don’t have anything particularly exciting to offer in comparison to a sisters’ weekend, but I would very much like to spend the day with you. I need to practice a new brush technique for a class I’m teaching. You can read, I can paint… We’ll be alone, but together. Who was it that said it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone?”

You knew he was baiting you with your love of words, but damn him if it wasn’t working. “Tennessee Williams. But if you recall, the first half of that quote depicts lonely people joining forces. I don’t think he was speaking of a pity invitation from a Casanova to his pathetic, sad friend.”

“That’s not what this is,” he chastised. “I’m allowed to be lonely too.”

“Oh, please, Ben.” You dismissed him prematurely. “You’re never alone. There is always someone throwing themselves at your feet.”

“I didn’t say I was alone. I said I was lonely…” The haunted look had returned to contort his beautiful face.

The undeniable need to vanquish anything that creased his brow pulled you toward him. Reaching out for him, you stopped yourself from wrapping your arms around his torso, instead choosing something safer. You squeezed reassuringly around his forearm that rested on the counter. 

“I’ll go get dressed,” you said softly. “Wait for me?”

His eyes left your fingers splayed across his arm and searched your face. The amount of relief flooding the rings of blue made your stomach ache.

“I’ll wait as long as you need…” he promised.

~~~~~~~~~~

Like with most things, he was right about his company bringing you back into balance. It was easy to be around him. He was comfortable in your silence, and you in his. There was no need for incessant chit chat. It was enough to simply just be. No pressure. No performance. No need to be guarded. The sounds of his brush strokes against the canvas soothed you as you flipped from page to page in your book.

It had turned out to be the perfect day for outdoor endeavors. There wasn’t a rain cloud in sight, and the sun was almost as warm as Benedict’s presence. He had taken you to a remote clearing he stumbled across during one of his many reflective walks. The open field was surrounded by dense woods, sequestering you in your own private world. The nearby stream provided the perfect soundtrack to drown out all the unwanted noise of life. 

He had packed a blanket for you to sprawl out on while he labored over his easel. Per usual, he had thought of everything. There was even a basket filled with your favorite snacks. You would both be content for hours. Responsible for nothing. Accountable to no one. He had gifted you peace.

The sun poured out its affection lavishly over your skin, and you soaked in its embrace. The dress you wore hung loosely from the straps that tied at your shoulders, and the lightweight cotton fabric kissed your skin delicately, providing an unabashed sense of freedom. It had been a long time since you had felt this content and you were already craving a return visit. 

It had been hours since you had seen another person. Every so often there would be a wayward hiker, but for the better part of the day it was just the two of you. Working side by side, in tandem but apart. You were fully consumed by the current manuscript you were reading. It was the third one of the day, but the first to hold your interest. This was undoubtedly the piece you would submit to your boss for publication. 

The author skillfully and eloquently stripped down the world as we know it, and submerged the reader into the unknown. With the trivial things torn away, everything came back to basics. What did a person truly need to survive? What did we look to in order to feel secure? Sure, the tried and true standards still applied - Food. Water. Shelter. But what were those things without hope? Was there even a point?

It was a love story at its core. A devastating one, but a love story nonetheless. It seemed a cruel irony to make it all the way through life only to find love at the end of the world. Love was already a precarious thing, but the stakes were even higher in their world. The person you joined your life with was the person that kept you alive. 

There was a perfect balance between danger and sweetness. You had invested fully in the characters. Their joy was your joy, their pain your pain. So when the unthinkable happened, your heart thudded to a stop. A shocked sob escaped your lips, breaking the silence that had settled.

Benedict looked at you in alarm. “What’s happened?”

You shook your head, waving off his worry. You’d almost forgotten he was there. “This author is fantastic. It feels so real.”

His lazy smile spread across his face. “You’ll have to tell me about it once you’re finished.”

Normally you loved telling him about the books you read. He always hung on your words and asked enthusiastic questions. But you weren’t sure you could do that with this one. Her leading man bore a striking resemblance to yours. Even the glances you were stealing of him now were almost unbearable. If there was one person in this world whose loss would bury you, it was Benedict. 

Family wasn’t something that you had a surplus of. Your parents had both been gone for years. Caroline was your only sibling and you had drifted apart as you got older. But Benedict had always been there, and you made a family of your own. Each day he started to mean more to you than you were comfortable with. You tried to ignore it, but your heart was persistent and loud. 

Your eyes welled with tears as you read the final chapter. Images of Benedict’s face flooded your mind while the author described the fate of her hero in heart wrenching detail. The pit in your stomach was about to swallow you whole. Evidence of your despair leaked from the corners of your eyes and made their way to the corners of your mouth, leaving your lips salty and wet. 

You knew it would only deepen the hurt, but you couldn’t resist the pull to look at Benedict. It was only a story but you needed the reminder that he was still here. Like he always was. 

You weren’t sure how, but he looked more striking than he had just a moment ago. Maybe your imaginary grief had heightened your awareness of him. Or maybe it snapped your perspective into focus. You were in love with your best friend but you had no clue what to do with that revelation. 

You were so lost in your reverie that he startled you when he spoke. “What’s that look about, Sunshine?”

“I’m just remembering you,” you said meekly, averting your eyes.

“Hmph,” he sighed.

Setting down his paintbrush, he came to sit behind you on the blanket. His arm reached around your side and pulled the book from your hands. “Who is this Bradstreet person, and why have they made you cry? It was a happy day. I thought we’d finally chased the grey away.”

A shiver ran deep when you felt the heat from his lips press softly into the naked skin at your shoulder. Steadying yourself, you turned your face into him so you could meet him eye to eye. You weren’t sure what his small, but intimate gesture meant. He had always behaved in this familiar way with you. Touch wasn’t something that he shied away from. It’s how he showed affection. This was just the first time you had ever opened yourself up to the possibility of more.

Your fingers reached up to brush the waves of his dark hair away from his face. The tension left his body at your touch and he melted into you. His eyes closed and he smiled sweetly as he hummed his appreciation. You rarely initiated touch with him like this and you were now realizing what a crime that was.

His lips touched your skin again in a silent thank you. The importance of this moment was finally sinking into your bones. Now was the time to make sure he understood what he meant to your life. You didn’t think you would ever forgive yourself if the world came tumbling down and you left out that he was the only one…

Your eyes lingered on his in a silent exchange before you leaned in to capture his lips with your own. His body stilled for a split second but quickly reanimated, matching your energy with intention. Years of unidentified longing flowed out through your touch and held him close to you. 

He broke your kiss to catch a breath.

“Thank God,” he whispered. “I was beginning to worry that you’d never feel it.”

An exhausted amusement washed over you. “You know me… Always taking the long way around.”

His answering laugh was your favorite sound. It was warm and deep. A familiar comfort.

“Well worth the wait,” he declared, tucking your hair behind your ear.

In that moment a switch inside you flipped. Desire for this man had made itself known, sending a pulsing urgency to overtake you like a riptide. The smell of him, so close and invasive, was a provocative elixir calling out to awaken wanton need. 

The heat from his toned, lean body radiated from behind you seeping into your spine. Its invitation was impossible to resist, so you let go, giving yourself over completely. His arms welcomed you in and every inch of him conformed to fit you perfectly. Broad shoulders provided a safe place to lay your head as his face dipped to rest in the crook of your neck. His deep breaths coaxed a thrilling shiver from you as he savored the scent of your skin. 

You craved him with such intensity that it was painful. Your body, seeking a remedy, pressed deeper into his with a slow, sensual tempo. The blood felt like it was burning through your veins, and every muscle clenched with the anticipation of release. 

His body understood your plea and began to guide your movements. The low, humming ache between your thighs had grown into a throbbing demand. This lust was an insatiable beast, only mollified by his touch.

“Benedict…” you begged breathlessly. The feel of his lips sucking your neck into his mouth was driving you to distraction. Your mind fantasized his warm, wet tongue exploring other parts of you.

His kiss never left your skin for more than a moment and his hands had found a new boldness. You could smell dried paint, a scent synonymous with him, as his fingers danced over your shoulder to the tied straps of your dress. When his movements stopped, you looked back at him to find his eyes silently asking your permission to continue. You gave your consent without question.

Nimble fingers made easy work of the bows holding the top of your dress to your body. The soft cotton fell around your waist, exposing your bare, heaving chest to the elements. The warmth of the sun soaked into the sensitive skin of your breasts, and the wind whispered over your nipples, puckering them with pleasure.

Benedict’s stuttered, appreciative breath quickened your heart. His heavy gaze was ravenous as he took in the sight of you. His teeth raked across his bottom lip, attempting restraint.

“Y/n, can I touch you?” he asked. Always the gentleman.

A sudden bout of nerves crept up your throat. This was all so surreal. It was Benedict. Your best friend. Your favorite person on Earth. What if this changed all that? You didn’t want to be without him. You couldn’t. 

For a moment, the two of you sat together in limbo. Your mind was trying to logic you out of this, but your heart understood a new truth. It was already too late to go back, to settle for a fraction of what he was offering you now. Your need for him had grown to encompass more than friendship. It would never feel like enough again. 

You took his hand in yours and led him to your soft, supple bust. Holding your breath, you waited. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. Maybe you were afraid of his dissatisfaction. The last man you let see you this way was fond of critiquing your body. Exposure was the scariest place to encounter judgment. There was nowhere to hide. The words heard there never leave you.

Disdain started to flicker in your mind. Remembering old words from a person who no longer held significance was pointless. And yet, how could you not remember? He had thought your breasts were too large. “Anything more than a handful was too much.”

You realized now, as Benedict’s warm palms grazed over you, that the problem never resided with you. That other man’s hands were simply inferior. Benedict held you with ease, cupping you securely in his grasp. His strong fingers kneaded gently, feeling your contours and curves. He silenced your insecurities and fueled you with courage. There was no need for pretenses. He already knew it all. Both the embarrassing and the unflattering. He knew, and he stayed. More than that, he knew and wanted you in spite of it all.

Inhibitions dissolved as you leaned into his touch. You were completely lost. Unaware of anything outside of desire.That’s probably why his sudden exclamation startled you.

“Don’t move!” His arm wrapped tightly around your body to cover you.

Panic set in as your mind ran wild over all the possibilities for his warning. The tall grass surrounding you provided a plethora of nightmares.

“Oh God, what?! Is there a snake?” Your skin crawled at the thought of the slithering serpent. 

His voice lowered to a whisper in your ear. “There’s someone there,” he replied. “They’re watching us.”

Standing just inside the nearest treeline you spotted a young woman frozen with indecision. She was close enough to make clear eye contact with and her expression was shouting a mortified apology. A professional looking camera dangled freely from the strap around her neck. Her photography excursion wandered into something more than landscapes. Although, you supposed this was still nature at its core.

The two of you remained locked in a silent exchange. You weren’t sure what you saw there that granted you permission, but you felt yourself relax in Benedict’s hold. 

“It’s okay,” you calmed him.

You reached up and slowly started to drag his hand down your stomach to the top of the bunched fabric at your waist. All the while never breaking your stare with the onlooking stranger.

Benedict’s breath hitched in your ear and his fingernails scraped across your tummy, releasing a fresh wave of need inside you. “Don’t stop, Ben. I need you.”

His entire hand splayed out over your lower abdomen, pressing you firmly into the insistent bulge throbbing between you. “Mmmm,” he groaned. “You’re an impatient little thing, aren’t you? All needy and squirmy, clutching your thighs together. Fuck, I bet you are soaking for me…”

“You could easily find out,” you challenged.

Reflexively, his fingers twitched with excitement. His voice went dark, forcing you to understand the serious nature of his words.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “Are you certain about this? Tell me clearly.”

You peered up into his face, focusing on only him. If he was nervous, he wasn’t letting on, but it was clear that he needed something more from you than just consent. 

“I need to feel you,” you instructed, guiding him firmly where you ached for him. You made sure to stay locked in to his gaze, leaving no room for miscommunication. “She can watch, or she can leave. I don’t fucking care, but I can’t wait. I’m aching, Ben. Make it better.”

The two of you gasped in unison when his long, capable fingers slid between your folds. 

“Darling, where are your knickers?” he asked, reveling in the feel of you. His teeth nipped at your jawline. “You’ve been open and exposed all afternoon, barely hidden by this fetching little frock, and I’ve just been a clueless sod playing with my paints.”

His slow, stroking motions stirred the beast inside of you. Your body purred for him, vibrating at a frequency only he could hear. It called for him, telling him exactly where you needed him next. He spread you further, and his middle finger took a scandalously languid dive to tease your pulsing entrance.

Your cunt sought out for him with a fluttering welcome, desperately willing him to push past the threshold. The thought of him sinking into you there had you writhing restlessly in his lap.

His tongue traced the contour of your ear. “Oohhh, yes. You liked that. I can feel it. Do you want more?”

“Mmmhmm,” you could only manage a half lucid whimper in response.

“Open your eyes,” he encouraged. “See how your body has inspired our voyeuristic friend.”

The beautiful stranger had taken a brave step out from under the cover of trees. Her face held a comforting familiarity that somehow made you feel safe. Even as she brought the zoomed lens of the camera to her eye to capture your image, you still felt no shame.

“Would you like to show her what a work of art your body truly is?” Finally, his devilish digit invaded your warmth, causing you to moan out in satisfaction. “That’s my good girl. Arch for her. Show her how gorgeous your skin is while it’s blushed with heat. Such a pretty color.”

You had never truly known what arousal was until that very moment. His velvety baritone in your ear combined with the depths of his reach within you, and the witness of the anonymous onlooker had brought you to a precipice that you were terrified to give way to.

Reading your body like braille, he partnered his ring and middle fingers, stretching you as they curled. His speed quickened as his pressure increased, manipulating your body to obey his commands. 

Your hips began to dance with his rough palm, providing a friction on your clit that stole all of the air from your lungs. Oblivion was almost there. Just a couple more inches and you could reach out and touch it. 

He could feel the beginnings of your climax start to pull his fingers in deeper to you. “That’s it, love. We’re almost there. Will you give it to me?”

You would have given him anything he asked for as long as he didn’t stop moving. The hand that you didn’t have held in a vice grip between your legs came to your aid, pinching one of your nipples, just on the right side of pain. 

His ministrations had delivered you over to the abyss. There were no outside sounds. Nothing to see but white hot pleasure. Nothing to keep you from blissfully floating away into forever. Your only tether was the feel of his heartbeat guiding you home. You listened to its call, slowly bringing your own in time to match his steady rhythm. You were one heart. One mind. One soul.

Color started to seep back into your world. His gentle voice coaxed you back to consciousness. “Breathe. I’m right here. Just breathe.”

The immensity of what you just experienced had dissolved you of all control. A sobbing laughter bubbled up your throat, and you recognized the searing heat of unshed tears behind your eyes. All you knew was gratitude.

You turned slightly in his arms so that you could reach for his face. Your lips burned into his, moving with hunger. Gladly, you opened your mouth to his tongue, allowing him to breathe life back into you. The taste of him washed over your senses, driving a primal instinct somewhere inside of you.

Lifting yourself slightly, you rose to your knees in front of him, gathering the hem of your dress so that it hung forward, leaving you completely exposed to the man behind you.

You reached for the collar of his shirt, yanking him to his knees so that the back of your body melded into the front of him. The feel of his body running along the length of you sent shivers coursing through you from head to toe.

His lips devoured the skin of your neck and his bite sank into the muscle at your shoulder. One strong hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you harshly against his muscular torso. 

His growl in your ear had you dripping for him all over again. “I’m going to fuck you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Please, Benedict…”

You reached behind you, and the two of you worked together to pull his jeans away from his body. You didn’t have a chance to see him with your eyes, but you could feel the impressive size of him nuzzled between your cheeks as he ground into you.

You felt bereft when his arms released you, but his lips assured you that he was still there while he kissed his way from the nape of your neck and down your spine to the center of your back. One hand went to your hip to steady you and the other aligned the thick head of his cock with your pussy. 

“Ready?” he stilled.

“Now, Benedict. Right now.” You had never sounded so needy in your life.

Inch by satisfying inch, he pushed himself inside you. The stretch was unbelievable. Your body was made to accommodate him. He filled you to the edge of your limits, fitting around him so tightly that you could feel the steady thrum of his pulse thumping against your walls. 

“Fuuuuccck… You’re so warm. I love the way you hold onto me like that.” he praised you.

He only gave you a few more seconds to adjust before he started to move. With both hands on your hips, he repeatedly seated you in his lap, withdrawing slowly each time so that his tip caught around the ring at your entrance. When he entered you again, it was hard and deep. The pace was agonizing. Glimpses of the tingles he would bring you started to make themselves known as he introduced his body to every inch of yours.

Your eyes glanced up to find the photographer documenting your pleasure. She had lowered herself to the ground to explore new angles of your debauchery. You wondered if she was affected by the atmosphere. Would she go home and seek a release of her own. Would your heaving chest and Benedict’s feral noises bring her pleasure?

Benedict’s hand came back to wrap around your throat, effectively securing you to him again. The fingers of his other hand ventured below the fabric at your hips and found you swollen and throbbing.

“You like it that she’s watching, don’t you?” he smirked. “I like watching her watch you. If I can’t see your face, I can at least read hers to see how I’m doing.”

“Are my moans not enough? If you need me louder, I need you harder.” you laughed challengingly.

“Holyyyyy… Fuck, that felt food. I can feel you laughing from inside you.” his grip on your throat tightened a bit. “I want to make you laugh like that for the rest of your life.”

All traces of humor were lost now. His hold sealed around you, solidifying his promise of forever. Something inside of him flipped, and he thrust into you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

Deep, husky breaths panted into your ear between dizzying kisses. You started to tremble as every cell in your body responded to his urgent, pleading seduction. Searching for a way to ground yourself, you reached behind you to entwine your fingers in the hair at the base of his skull, tugging forcefully while hanging on for dear life.

“Oooohhhhhhh,” you gasped. “Oh, God! Benedict, yessss. You feel so good. Please. Please!”

“Hang on just a little while longer,” he beseeched. “Wait for me. I need us to come together.”

“Hurry Ben,” you warned. “I can’t… You feel…”

Stringing a sentence together was starting to become impossible. It took every ounce of focus you had to keep yourself from exploding around him. The desperate, punishing tempo of his hips was relentless. The lewd sounds your bodies made as they smacked together grew louder and louder with each powerful thrust.

Daring to glance across the field, you met the gaze of the daring beauty with whom you had shared this incredibly intimate experience. Even from a distance you could see her labored breathing as she lived vicariously through you. Her eyes were spurring you on, chasing the release as much as you were. There was something so erotic about the moment, and you couldn’t look away from her. 

The muscles of your core started to contract around Benedict’s cock. If he wanted to come with you, it had to be now.

“Benedict…” you whimpered.

“I know, baby. I know,” he soothed. “It’s okay. If you come, you’ll take me with you.”

The power that he had just put into your hands was weighty. Knowing that you wielded such control over him made you weak for him. It was a paradox you didn’t need to understand, you just knew it to be true.

His hand left your throat to tilt your face into his, foreheads pressed together in intimacy. “Eyes on me,” he ordered. “Don’t look at her. This part of you is mine.”

His dilated pupils were hypnotic. You couldn’t have looked away if you tried. “Come, y/n. Come for me.”

You had never been good at following orders but his voice lulled you into submission. His tone simultaneously made you eager to please, but also undoubtedly sure that he knew what was best in that moment. 

His kiss extinguished your scream of ecstasy as he burrowed deeper into your body. His movements had stopped, and you realized that it was you who continued to torturously milk his seed from his body and claim it as your own. The warmth lined your walls as he spasmed inside your cunt.

He lowered the two of you to the blanket, never leaving the safety of his newfound home inside your walls.

“I don’t want to leave you yet,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “Catch your breath. I’ll keep you full. We can drift away.”

Your eyes fluttered open, squinting as the sun beamed down onto your face. It was a warm, cinnamon summer. Rich colors saturated the atmosphere, spreading romantic hues along the horizon. Time seemed to slow, bringing you into stillness. You willed yourself to stay awake, determined to commit every moment of this to memory. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t fight it. His spell was pulling you under, washing over you in a peaceful calm. Wrapped safely in the heat of his embrace, you found rest.

“I love you,”he confessed, voice laced with sleep.

You brought his hand to your lips and kissed his palm. “You’re my favorite thing. The only one, Benedict. The only one…”

Neither of you knew if the woman still stood somewhere on the edge of your reality. It didn’t really matter anymore. It was just the two of you. The way it always had been. The way it was always meant to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

6 Weeks Later

Butterflies danced in your stomach as you waited patiently for Benedict to arrive at your house. He informed you earlier in the day that he had a surprise planned to celebrate your author recommendation being selected for publication. You were hoping it involved one of his signature home cooked meals and the removal of all his clothing.

You heard the keys clinking in the lock as he let himself in, bellowing out your name to alert you to his arrival.

“I’m in the kitchen,” you shouted down the hall.

He was wearing the most devilishly handsome grin as he sauntered into the kitchen carrying an ornately wrapped gift box.

“What’s this,” you asked with thinly veiled excitement.

“Just a little something to mark the occasion,” he replied. “Go ahead, open it.”

His impatience was endearing. He was clearly proud of whatever it was inside this box. You lifted the lid to find four framed black and white photos, all of which contained the memories of the most significant day of your life. 

You didn’t know how, but these were the photos taken by the woman in the clearing that day. She was an exceptional talent. The compositions themselves showed a great amount of skill, but the truly impressive part was the emotion she captured. 

From the looks of things, she had been in that clearing a lot longer than you had been aware. The first photo was of you and Benedict working side by side in silence. Your nose was buried in your reading, brow furrowed in angst, and Benedict was smiling sweetly, watching you read. 

The second photo was stunningly intimate. The two of you sat huddled on the blanket. Your eyes closed with an almost prayerful expression etched on your face, and Benedict with his head bowed, pressing his lips into the bare skin of your shoulder.

The last two were carnal. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as you took them in.

Benedict’s voice startled you. “I told you your body was a work of art. Look how fucking gorgeous you are in these. Unguarded. Free…”

A lump formed in your throat as you fought the urge to cry. “How did you…?”

“Dumb luck,” he answered. “ I ran into our mystery woman a couple of weeks ago at that new gallery opening you refused to attend with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t refuse to attend. I had the flu.”

“Same difference,” he smirked. “So, do you like them? She gave me all the negatives too. No one else will ever see these outside the three of us.”

“I love them,” you sniffled. “It’s our first time. Immortalized. They’re perfect. Thank you, Benedict.”

He shook his head and kissed you chastely. “No, thank you.”

“For what,” you queried.

“For loving me back.”

_______________________________________________

Tags - @faye-tale @eleanor-bradstreet @colettebronte @bridgertontess @angels17324 @musicismyoxygen84

[queerweewoo]

SATURDAY SHNIPPET

posting apropos of nowt bc i've worked on this today and am a bit in love with it (cross your fingers for me the feeling lasts!). it's from my buddie accidental sexting wip partly inspired by the absolute masterpiece that is @wildehacked's I Love You But I Need Another Year. it's eddie pov with manchurian catholic undertones and i'm just under 5k and ed's hasn't even got a hand on his dick yet lmao. large font is the boys texts (buck's have Buck: as a precursor). buck's dating tommy 👀 as this is during the nun!marisol/pent-up eddie thing.

!! mature !!

.

Badly need to switch my brain off, you know? Just don't really know how to do that right now. 

Which is—a bit of a lie. Eddie's learned plenty of relaxation techniques over the years. He knows several breathing exercises and an array of calming mindful practices he could employ. It's just that Eddie's sort of become low key invested in whatever Buck's version of Eddie relaxing might be. Which is probably just because Buck knows him so well, and will be at least able to continue distracting Eddie till Eddie gets tired enough to drop off, right?

He really could do with loosening up first, though. 

Buck: OK. so you gotta think about like. something you don't usually think about…… 🧠❓🤔 

Fuck knows why but the Buck&Tommy porn reel is at once scrolling Eddie's brain again, his dick twitching a little in interest against his thigh—and Jesucristo, Eddie has to concentrate really fucking hard now to get his messed-up head somewhere very much other than his best friend's sex life. 

What is wrong with him?

Sure, Buck and Tommy fucking is definitely something Eddie doesn't usually think about, but shit.

He has to shake his head to dislodge the image of Tommy's hulking silhouette bracing Buck and he's really, truly hoping that his manchurian Catholicism hasn't been harbouring some sort of weird latent homophobia all this time. 

He just—really does not want to be thinking of Kinard while feeling this horny. Buck's image, however, is so familiar to Eddie, seared into the lining of his grey matter, that he's not really sure there is anything he can do about getting rid of it, not unless he wants to run the risk of the stuff he's so desperately trying not to think about sneaking it's way to the forefront of his mind once more. 

Buck: got something in mind? 

Um. 

Buck: picture it now

Buck: and i don't mean like the weekly grocery list or whatever btw

Buck: something sexy 

There's a record scratch in Eddie's brain. 

Hang. The Fuck. On.

Is Buck really doing what Eddie thinks he's doing? And is Eddie—is Eddie really contemplating just… Going along with it? 

Eddie's thumbs are moving across his phone screen of their own accord.

He can't let himself think sexy thoughts. All he can think of is Buck. But Buck did say something different?

Eddie types.

Yeah.

Fuck. 

Buck: alright. okay. take a deep breath. in fact take a few

Buck: and picture…… whatever it is. then start tracing your fingertips over your belly in small circles. start around your belly button. then make them bigger. big, sweeping circles

Buck: but slowly

Buck: and softly 

What in the name of Eddie's sanity is actually happening right now? And why is Eddie's body just—doing exactly what Buck is telling it, without Eddie giving it permission? 

Eddie's fingers are rough against the soft skin of his abdomen, the tips catching a little in the hairs just below his belly button. 

Like a bur on a sunny afternoon. 

He's thinking of Buck. Nothing sleazy, of course. Just Buck in his turnouts. Buck wearing that really nice burnt orange sweater Maddie and Chim got him last Christmas. Buck in a tank and shorts at the station gym. Just—Buck. 

And this, and touching his body the way Buck is telling him to, it all feels... It feels good, actually. Really fucking good. 

Buck: still with me eds? 

Eddie has to type the message out with his left hand, the right one busy drawing strange patterns over his own skin.

Ueah. Feels nice. 

¿Qué carajo?!

Buck: now do the same but up and down your thighs

Eddie does, and—oh, damn, it's—he really likes that. Thinks about Buck's hands doing the same over Buck's thighs. Wonders if Buck is doing it himself. Then he tries to worry about him thinking about that, but can't because Buck is texting him again.

Buck: and keep taking lots of big, deep breaths

Eddie breathes, big and deep, on Buck's instruction, and finds himself sighing quietly when he exhales. His fingers roam across his right thigh, then up the left, then up and over his belly, and back again. 

His phone buzzes against his chest. 

Buck: good? 

Eddie's picturing Buck holding his phone propped up on his own chest, other hand stroking his belly, just like Eddie.

Jeah. good

Buck: now touch your chest

Eddie keeps breathing, slowly, thoroughly, his hand doing exactly what Buck tells it. Then his fingertips skim over his right nipple and fuck, fuck he really likes that, so he finds the left one and does the same. Then he kind of rolls it between his forefinger and thumb pad before absently pinching at it—which rips this strange, strangled sort of sound out of him from somewhere deep in his chest, part gasp, part grunt, and his already fairly plump dick now springs up to full attention, bouncing slightly beneath Eddie's makeshift bedsheet blanket fort.

Buck: you still with me? 

Here. With yio

Eddie really, really wants to touch his dick—only Buck hasn't said that he can. 

Oh fuck, oh fuck, what the fuck.

.

play or nay, tags are under the cut! let me know in the notes if you'd like tagging if/when i finish this!

@inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius @angela-feelstoomuch @woodchoc-magnum @kitteneddiediaz @watchyourbuck @treasurehuntbuck @daffi-990 @eddiegettingshot @mazzystar24 @colonoscopys @shitouttabuck @lamardeuse @exhuastedpigeon @lamardeuse @veronae-buddie @wildehacked

[ihopesocomic]

Hi, it's me, that one anon who constantly sends you walls of text where I point out every single detail that I notice in characters' fur colours and eye shapes or their names.

I'm sorry for my long-ass messages but your comic is a wonderful example of how time, creativity and love can create a brilliant creation. I reread your comic often cause I constantly find new details and references. I really think about making a whole document and write down everything I notice. But you know what all of that tells me? How much you love your work and how much time you send on doing it. It's the background (colours of the sky while introducing Diamond, or when Hope and Storm meet when they're older), it's the details (a tree that Diamond and Amber use to climb has claw marks on it, many people would forget to include it there), it's the character designs (the similarities in Hope's family and how you can tell they're family by little details), it's the references to the story itself (Adamant saying that Hope's hunt was intense as a reference to her first hunt) and so much more. I know why I love your comic so much - it's cause you guys love it so much and you put that love in it. Me, and I believe other folks here, will never be greatful enough for creating a comic where we don't have to face sexism, homophobia, ableism, where we have a great representation and we can be inspired to create our own characters and stories. So, thank you <3

As a gesture of my thankfulness (I hope this word exists) I have a pun for you. Get ready!

So I couldn't help but notice that in Fade's description there's a following sentence: "He's determined to earn his father's approval, especially since his older sisters already have it". So can I say that he's afraid that he will fade away (hihi) in the bright and radiant (hihi) lights of his sisters? *ba dum tssss*

No, but seriously, that was intentional?

So, I've been sick and pretty meh over Christmas (just a cold, no biggie) and it's comments like this that always cheer me up. Thank you so much, anon. You're so sweet and we're so happy to hear you're enjoying the comic. You and the rest of our readership and your kind words are truly what inspire us eee

and lolol nice pun. As for Fade's name, we wanted him to be named after his mummy but, at the same time, it's also pretty fitting that he's ended up with the odd name out of his siblings like you've pointed out, yep. I also suspect it'll be fitting in another way as the story carries on too. ;D - RJ

[givethemsmut]

The Pack | Chapter Two

Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader

Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You

After Brody left I texted Alex, my best friend, filling her in on what happened. I can’t believe he was still pushing me for more.

Waiting for her text back I logged onto Instagram and saw a message from Tyler Posey himself. I was shocked and startled he found me from just my first name. We didn’t have any mutual friends that I knew of other than my dad.

I read the message: Hey, I met you on set today, I’m having a house party. Come through. Text me for the address.

I texted Alex the screenshot of his message and got nothing but an explosion of emojis. She was semi obsessed with Tyler Posey and Teen Wolf. I told her I’d get dressed and to pick me up in 20 minuets. A party sounded like the perfect way to forget Brody and probably the end of our friendship.

He was my best friend and we had crossed a line we couldn’t come back from.

I threw on some converse, jeans and a crop top with a cute bra peaking through. I pulled my hair out of the loose bun and made sure my mascara was perfect. I looked at myself in the mirror wondering if I was some kind of freak for not having sex yet before grabbing my clutch before heading outside.

Texting my dad so he wouldn’t worry I made sure to leave my location out. He wasn’t going to willingly let me party with a cast of actors my age.

Alex was beyond excited, “Is Tyler into you? Are you into him? Is he free game?”

I laughed knowing her obsession, “Alex, have him. He’s not my type. All serious, brooding, adventures. All yours.”

Alex laughed, “He isn’t the kind of guy to wait for sex either. He seems like a ladies man!”

We pulled up Tyler’s Hollywood house which was more modest than I thought. We rang the doorbell waiting outside when the oversized door flung open with Tyler holding a cold beer. “Come on in! Hey! Glad you could make it. Who’s your friend? I’m Tyler.”

Alex was a blonde bombshell so I wasn’t surprised he was checking her out. I introduced them to each other as we came inside and Tyler immediately showed us around.

“This is my place. Dyl and myself live here when we aren’t filming. Upstairs is off limits. Drinks are in the kitchen. The rest of the cast is here too.” He turned to Alex, “Can I make you a drink?”

He offered out his hand and she gladly followed, turning her head back at me in excitement. I followed along as the third wheel knowing beer was close by and I much needed one.

As I walked by the living room I noticed a giant fake Christmas tree and it was July. Close by the guy I bumped into was dancing with a beer in his hand. I figured he must have been part of the cast, he just looked MTV, yet I couldn’t help but smile at his happiness.

Tyler made both of our drinks with vodka, sliding it over to me and I slammed it back like I was a pro when really I wasn’t at all. I was a light weight on a mission to feel a buzz ASAP.

I let them flirt as I wondered around with another drink in my hand. I made my way past the people laughing and drinking down a hallway. They had art on the walls representing street art, tattoos and tribal work. I was surprised and inspired by the raw art.

Stumbling into a room that had the door cracked and wasn’t upstairs so that must of meant it wasn’t off limits. It was filled with awards, plaques and mile markers of their careers and lives. I saw a photo hanging of Tyler and the kid I ran into. He must be the room mate, Dylan.

I turned around and he was standing in the door way just watching me smiling. “Hey, you’re the girl I ran into. So what were you doing on set? Stalking Posey?”

My non-existent amusement was obvious, “So you live here too?”

He came inside the room and leaned against the desk, “I’m Dylan. You know Posey is talking to some blonde, right? You might wanna actually try flirting if you want his attention.”

I laughed knowing far too well he wasn’t my type, “Not interested in him. I have – had – it’s complicated and not really your business.”

He smirked, “You a fan of Teen Wolf?”

I walked out of the room down the hallway more, “Never seen it. Can you get me a refill? Thirsty.” He was trying very hard to gain any kind of information he could but it wasn’t working. He almost laughed, looked down and took my cup anyways.

He turned around reaching out, “Stay here. I’ll be back.” I was between another door way leaning against the frame as I nodded. “Use a heavier hand than your roommate.” I added as he walked away.

I was feeling buzzed and the drink he was getting me would be my 3rd. The room was empty, blank. I slide down the wall to sit on the floor when he came back with my empty cup and a bottle of Jack Daniels. “How’s this? I don’t know about you but I need a personal bartender tonight.”

I held up my cup silently as he poured and sat down too. I gave him a bone, “So Dylan, where’s your girlfriend or you a ladies man like your bestie?”

He signed and downed his drink, “Well we were in the middle of fucking and her phone went off-“ he paused unsure if he should say anymore. “It was whoever she’s been fucking behind my back.”

I felt awful for asking. “That’s never fun. Sorry dude.”

He leaned in pouring us more, “What’s complicated about your shit?”

Drinking my whole cup before going into it, “My best friend wanted to have sex and I didn’t. It’s complicated. We treated each other like a romantic relationship but it wasn’t.”

Dylan laughed, “So he was your friend with benefits?”

“Not exactly.” I stood up bored with the blank white walls, “You gonna give me the upstairs tour?” I was tipsy. I felt like I couldn’t stand straight up and he wasn’t any better as he got up.

“Hell yeah! Let’s go!” I followed him holding the bottle of whiskey as we snuck past the living room filled with the cast and their close friends. I didn’t see Alex in the crowd but the kitchen was out of view so I wasn’t worried. We went through a dark hallway past a bedroom with the door not closed all the way as Dylan peeked in and closed the door. He turned laughing, “Sorry. Ignore that.”

I only got a glimpse of the R-rated version of their own private party with a slender female riding someone I could only guess was Posey since the upstairs was off limits. Alex was the only blonde at the party I saw so I now knew where she went.

Dylan pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, “Welcome to my room.” I went inside immediately sitting on his bed taking my shoes off and as I took the room in I noticed the panties on the bed next to me. Looking down not moving I said, “Can you get rid of these? Kind of a bad juju.”

He noticed my vibe and lunged for the panties, “Shit! Sorry! Fuck.” He threw them away in his bathroom and sat down next to me offering me the bottle in which we beginning drinking out of now. His room was white, navy blue bedding, clean, some albums and what looked to be items from movie sets.

“You weren’t kidding about the almost sex…” I tried to fill the silence and that was the only thing I was thinking.

“Yeah, sorry. You want a pair of sweat pants? Get comfy.” I let my body lay back in some failed effort to feel less dizzy, “boxers sound better.”

He walked over to his draws and pulled out a black pair of boxer briefs and tossed them over to me. I stood up slowly as I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down my legs. Dylan didn’t take his eyes off me and I forgot how comfortable I was.

He coughed when my panties were revealed, “Um… I should leave the room… privacy.”

He didn’t attempted to move, stuttered and I simply laughed, “Why? It’s just panties… We’re adults, aren’t we?”

He changed the subject quickly, “You hungry? I’ve got the munchies. I’m gonna get us food. My laptop is there is you wanna put on something to watch.” I laughed as I pulled up his boxer briefs that felt like bike shorts but comfy.

He left the door open some as I decided to stand on his bed, I had a sudden urge to jump so I did. The alcohol was setting in and I wasn’t sober enough to watch a movie. I undid my bra under my shirt and tossed it to the floor with my jeans. I kept jumping til he returned with pizza bites, hot pockets and chips. He wasn’t kidding when he had the munchies.

He laughed and jumped up on the bed after setting the food down. I stopped suddenly and laid down, “Too much jumping. I have class early tomorrow. Save me, I don’t wanna go.”

He laid down too, “Well, you’ll be too hung over for classes.”

I had never felt this comfortable, not even with Brody. With the help of alcohol I sat up and removed my shirt, “Do you wanna kiss me?” His mouth opened without any words. He leaned in kissing me gently with his hands on the side of my face. He felt warm, soft.

The rest was a blur. I lost some memories but I still couldn’t find the will to regret it.

I felt more myself with Dylan than I had with Brody, my own father, my friends and Dylan got the one part of me I had been toting around like a prize.

[cas-skz]

MIDNIGHT

Felix is away from work, but makes a surprise trip home, just in time.

18+!! MDNI plz&thnx

Warnings: none really. just fluffy

Inspired by Felix’s voice messages cause he’s cute as heck. cas xx

It wasn’t easy being away from him for so long. Each day felt like 48 hours instead of 24. The apartment was far too quiet, just the sound of New Years Eve countdown, barely loud enough to hear. With teary eyes, you open your messages with Felix, adding to your already emotional state.

[VOICE MESSAGE] “I miss you…I love you so much. I’m sorry I can’t be home right now…I hate that I’m this far away. I love you so much, I promise I’ll be home soon.”

His voice always gave you goosebumps, but tonight it was making you feel two worlds apart from your love.

You fingers quickly typed a message, sending it as a soft sigh escapes your lips. Felix hadn’t texted back all day. Which was odd, because even with his busy schedule, he managed to check in at least once or twice before calling when he was settling in for the night. He had missed that call too.

Wearing his sweater and some black panties, you curled up on the couch, the only comfort coming from the quiet purring above your head. The tears started to fall when you heard “10 minutes to the new year!!”

It was your first new years away from Felix in 3 years. He had been gone for Christmas too, having to manage a new coming idol group. You always understood the sacrifices he had to make, but being alone for the holidays just hit harder.

“Let’s start the countdown! We have one minute left, anyone want to get in a quick word.”

“I want my Lixie.” You quietly whine at the tv.

“10…9…8…7…6…5…”

You didn’t even hear the sound of his key in the lock, the quiet creek of the door opening.

“4…3…”

The jingle of the cats collar caused you to look up, the sweet smile of Felix taking you by surprise. “What are you doing here..”

“2…1..”

Felix leaned over the couch to press his lips into yours, a kiss you gladly returned, crawling to your knees to deepen the kiss. Your arms easily wrapping around his neck as a new wave of tears fell. Good, happy, I missed you tears.

“Happy New Years my love.” Felix whispered, his lips barely leaving yours, moving softly and lovingly as you pulled him over the couch on top of you.

Felix chucked quietly, trailing the kisses to your cheek and then to you neck before looking deeply into your eyes. “Did you miss me or something?” He asked, head tilted to one side as his strong arm held him up. Your fingers ran down his arm slowly, “More than you know.”

[taniavttv]

Mistletoe 🎄(Rengoku x Y/N)

Hey Everyone, I hope you are all doing amazing since Christmas is almost here in a few days. I was inspired to write this and I hope you all enjoy this. Requests are Open Thx and Enjoy 💖🌸

POV: This takes place in the Modern UA and it's in Tengen house since Tengen hosted a party and He brings Mistletoe to the party. You and Rengoku are dating so Tengen decides to get you both to kiss under the Mistletoe. (Ft Hashiras and Kamaboko Squad)

It was a normal day at your best friend Kanroji house since you along with Shinobu, Kanao, Kanae, and Aoi, had a sleepover and decided to have a girls night and it was the weekend. The five of you were getting ready for the party Tengen was hosting at his house.

"I'm so excited for this party" Mitsuri said as she admired the clothes she wore and began to do her hair. "Oh We are all excited too Mitsuri" Kanae said as she was helping Shinobu do her hair. "Sister Don't try to tangle my hair" Shinobu said as she did her makeup as well. "Oh I'll be careful Don't worry" Kanae giggled.

Aoi and Kanao were doing their makeup and finishing doing their hair. Meanwhile You were deciding what to wear since Kanroji has outfits for everyone to pick and choose.

"Is everything Okay Y/N?" Mitsuri asked you as she noticed you were desperately looking for something good to wear for your boyfriend Rengoku. "Oh I'm Okay Mitsuri I'm just deciding what to wear" Y/N said as she looked in the mirror to see which outfit was best

"Somebody's getting ready for their boyfriend" Shinobu teased you. "Oh C'mon Shinobu You're getting ready for Giyu" You responded to her. " Oh that's true I'm getting ready to see Giyu What about the rest of you Who are you all excited to see?" Shinobu asked. "I'm excited to see Tanjiro" Kanao said "Well I'm excited to see Inosuke" Aoi said "Oh you mean your king of the mountain" Y/N teased her. "Oh Yes Y/N please stop teasing me I know he has to always say that" Aoi said. "I'm excited to see Sanemi He is so lovely" Kanae said as she was thinking about Sanemi. "Oh I really can't wait to see Iguro Oh I love him so much" Mitsuri said as she was finished getting ready.

"What about you Y/N" Mitsuri asked you. "Oh you know I'm excited to see Rengoku Oh I want to hug him and kiss him" Y/N said as she was thinking about Rengoku. "Yeah we all know You two are the cutest couple since Highschool" Mitsuri complimented. "Yeah I'll never forget the day he asked me out it was around Christmas week It was a true Christmas Miracle" Y/N said happily remembering the day.

"Well we should head to Tengen house Iguro messaged me If we're on our way there" Mitsuri said as she checked her phone. "You're right Mitsuri because I got a text from Giyu asking the same thing" Shinobu said as she also checked her phone too.

"C'mon girls let's go in my Car the boys must have already prepared everything at Tengen house" Mitsuri said as everyone grabbed their Purse and headed to Mitsuri's car. Once everyone got in, It was time to head to Tengen house for the party, Y/N kept thinking about her loving boyfriend Rengoku.

During the car ride it was fun. Y/N along with all the girls were taking selfies and playing their favorite music on Mitsuri radio.

At Tengen House

Finally they arrived at Tengen house and the boys were happy to see their ladies and went to greet them. Mitsuri hugged Iguro, Kanae hugged Sanemi, Shinobu hugged Giyu and kissed his cheek, Tanjiro hugged Kanao, Aoi kissed Inosuke, and Rengoku came to you, hugged you, and picked you up; swirling you around and finally he kissed your lips passionately.

"I missed you so much yesterday. My Love" Rengoku said and caressed your cheeks. "I missed you too Kyo. How was the sleepover with the boys?" You asked him

"Oh it was amazing My love We did many fun stuff and how was it with the girls?" He asked you "It was amazing Kyo" You responded with a smile. "Aww I'm glad you had a fun time" Rengoku said and looked at you. He loved your outfit a lot and couldn't stop looking at you. Finally after five minutes Tengen came outside He was dressed as Santa for the party. "Alright lovebirds C'mon the party is about to start and let's make it flashy" He said with a smile.

Everyone went inside before it got cold outside. Once everyone got inside there were other friends too like Muichiro, Yushiro and Tamayo, Genya, Zenitsu and Nezuko, Gyomei, and Tengen's wives. "Alright let me put some music to get the Flashy party started. Tengen said as he headed to put the music on. He put on Christmas Carols and everyone got comfortable but as the party continued Tengen decided to bring the Mistletoes later on in the party.

He decided to go for Iguro and Mitsuri first so he snuck behind as they were talking to Y/N and Rengoku along with Giyu and Shinobu. "Hey lovebirds" Tengen said behind Mitsuri and Iguro as they jumped. "Oh Tengen are you serious man why did you come behind me and Mitsuri like that" Iguro said "Look up Iguro" Tengen said as Iguro and Mitsuri looked up and saw the Mistletoe . "Do I have to do it in front of everyone?" Iguro said giving Tengen an expression. "Hey it's a Mistletoe and you know the rules buddy" Tengen said smiling. "Alright I'll do it since I'm with Mitsuri C'mon here Mitsuri" Iguro said as he kissed Mitsuri in front of everyone.

"Oh wow Iguro that was a lovely kiss" Mitsuri said as she blushed and hugged Iguro. "Hey Tengen May I ask why Mitsuri and Iguro kissed when you showed them the Mistletoe?" Y/N asked curiously. "Oh Let the God of Festival and Flashiness explain that to you Basically every Christmas the Mistletoe is special because you stand underneath it and kiss your lover since it's a symbol of your promised love to them" Tengen explained smiling.

"That's a true Christmas Miracle" Gyomei said as he clasped his hands together and prayed. "Oh when will we kiss under the Mistletoe Nezuko" Zenitsu asked as Nezuko just looked at him. "When you deserve it" She said teasing him.

Yushiro looked at Tamayo and blushed "It would be amazing and lovely to kiss you under the Mistletoe Lady Tamayo" He said in his head. "So everyone be on the lookout for Mistletoes because this will be flashy" Tengen said smiling.

"Oh so you're going to hang Mistletoe everywhere during the party buddy" Rengoku asked as he sipped on some hot chocolate Y/N gave him. "Um Yeah best buddy Of course to make this party flashier than ever" Tengen said happily. During the party it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss Rengoku under the Mistletoe, Sure you wanted too but you wanted it to be a special moment where it was just you two.

The party was getting better and better, Tengen had been putting Mistletoe everywhere. He got all the lovebirds to kiss under the Mistletoe now all he needed to do was to get You and Rengoku to kiss.

As everyone gathered around the fire it was warm and cozy since you had Rengoku by your side. He put his hand around your shoulders and wrapped a blanket around you two to be comfortable. Tengen decided to bring the Mistletoe in and he put it in front of Rengoku and Y/N. "Alright you two lovebirds you know what to do" He said.

Y/N and Rengoku looked up and it was Mistletoe, Rengoku looked at Y/N who was nervous since she hasn't normally kissed Rengoku in front of people. "Do you want to kiss me My love" Rengoku asked wanting to be sure you were comfortable with it

"I do Kyo, but I wanted it to be somewhere special where it was us under it" Y/N said as Rengoku hugged her. "Aww My love If you don't want to it's Okay"Rengoku said as he held your hand and kissed it. "Um Excuse me Romeo it's a Mistletoe so she has to kiss you it's the rules" Tengen said.

Rengoku looked at you as You looked up at the Mistletoe again. "Kyo Do you want to kiss me underneath the Mistletoe" Y/N said blushing and smiling. "Of course My love, always forever" Rengoku said as he pressed his lips against yours and began to kiss you passionately as Everyone began to clap.

Mitsuri took a picture and showed you. "Oh Mitsuri Thanks, send it to me so I keep it" Y/N said as she gave Mitsuri a hug. "I will Y/N" Mitsuri said and sent the picture to you. "My love I enjoyed that kiss" Rengoku said and hugged you. "Me too Kyo We should do this every year" Y/N said and caressed Rengoku cheeks. "We should My love, your kisses are a true Christmas Miracle." Rengoku said.

"Oh you guys are so adorable You're about to make me emotional" Tengen said as his wives went to his side to avoid him getting emotional. "Oh Tengen look above you" Y/N said as Tengen looked up and saw a Mistletoe. "Wow really Y/N" Tengen said.

"Hey it's a Mistletoe and you know the rules" Y/N said as everyone laughed. "Lord Tengen kiss me" Suma said "Hey Kiss me first Lord Tengen" Makio said "Hey you'll get a turn alright you both" Hina said as Tengen kissed his wives. "This has been the flashiest party so far let's enjoy more of it. People" Tengen said as everyone enjoyed more of the party. Finally it was time to head home, Everyone headed home with their lovers and the other friends also went home.

"C'mon My love, let's go home" Rengoku said as he picked you up and put you in the car. Once he closed the door He went to his side and turned the car on to ride home. "Did you have fun at the party My love?" He asked. "I did Kyo But My favorite part was the Mistletoe" Y/N said as Rengoku placed his hand above hers and held it. "That was also My favorite part too, My love We should do it every year as a special moment" Rengoku suggested. "We should Kyo it's a true Christmas Miracle" Y/N said.

"What do you want to do when we get home, My love" Rengoku asked you. "Can we cuddle tonight Kyo All I want is you" Y/N said as Rengoku smiled. "Aww Sure we can My love I'll be happy to keep you warm" Rengoku said. "Anything that you desire I shall do My love" He added. "Can we cuddle with blankets too" You asked "Of course with blankets My love" He said.

"Can we also drink hot cocoa too" Y/N asked. "Sure My love, all your desires and wishes will be granted" Rengoku said happily. "Then let's get to it" You said excitedly.

Once they got home Rengoku went to Y/N side of the car and picked her up. "C'mon My love, I have been waiting to cuddle you" Rengoku said as he took Y/N to their room. Once they got into more comfortable clothing, When Y/N was done brushing her hair, Rengoku came back with Hot Cocoa he made for them, They sipped on the delicious hot cocoa, and then laid in bed as they cuddled.

"I love you so much My precious flame" Rengoku said as Y/N touched his chest and Rengoku pulled the blanket to cover them up. "I love you too Kyo" Y/N said as Rengoku kissed her lips passionately. This was a true Christmas Miracle for them as they cuddled in the beautiful night sky.

[annieradcliff]

Sick Day

A/N:  Will comes over to take care of you when you're sick

My very first fic post!  My thanks to bullet-proofleave, daniacat, and kitthekazoo for their inspiration and giving me courage to post this. It’s about time I join the rest of you talented writers on here! Tagging: @bullet-prooflove   @daniacat   @kitthekazoo You woke up not feeling well at all. Aching joints and a persistent pounding headache stayed with you all night despite having taken some Tylenol before you went to bed last night. The headache had become progressively worse, which you couldn't explain. You weren't able to get comfortable all night and now you were shivering. You even took it easy on the treadmill the night before, but you still did your weight training exercises thinking you would just power through whatever this was.  You didn't injure yourself with the weights, so you didn't know why you felt so inordinately tired. As your mental fog began to clear, you remembered you and Will had plans tonight to see A Christmas Carol at the Goodman Theatre. Your heart sank at the thought. There was no way you could go out tonight feeling like this. Through bleary eyes, you glanced at the clock on the nightstand, surprised it was already late morning. Will was 7 hours into his 12-hour shift over at Med. You decided sending him a text would be best since you really didn't feel like getting into long phone conversation with him discussing your symptoms, which you knew he would do. You grabbed your phone off the nightstand and drafted a message, careful to keep it brief and vague. "Hey, babe - I'm so sorry, but I need to cancel our plans for tonight. I woke up this morning not feeling well. I'm going to try to sleep a little longer. I'll call you later. I love you." You re-read your message to make sure there wasn't anything in it that would alarm Will and cause him to drop everything and call you. The last thing you wanted was to be a distraction for him at work.  Satisfied with the content, you hit "send" and adjusted the ringtone settings to vibrate mode before setting the phone back on the nightstand. You were exhausted and in pain as you snuggled into the warmth of the blankets trying to get comfortable. Less than a minute passed since you sent the text, and your phone is vibrating. You slowly open your eyes glaring at the phone, already knowing who it is before you see the incoming caller's name on the faceplate.   "Hi, Will ..." you mumble to him. "Hey babe, can you describe your symptoms for me?" You chuckled a bit. Will skipped over his usual playful sweet-talk and went straight to doctor-mode. You knew him so well - of course he would call you. "Sweetie, I didn't want to bother you at work. It's probably the flu. I just wanted to tell you I won't feel well enough to go out tonight. I feel really bad about that." "You never bother me," he said softly. "And please don't feel bad about this. Can you tell me what your symptoms are?" "I have a headache, I woke up with sore joints and chills, and I'm exhausted." "Yep - that sounds like the flu. Can you safely get out of bed? I need you to get to the thermometer in the bathroom, if you can." "Will really, all I need is sleep. I didn't want to bother you with this." "Y/N, just humor me a bit, okay?" "All right, I'll go get the thermometer - hold on." "Babe, keep the phone with you, okay? Just keep talking to me." You sighed quietly, nodding. "I have the phone, I'm talking to you, and I'm heading into the bathroom ..." Will couldn't help but grin at the irritation in your tone. "Okay, I found the thermometer and I'm swiping it across my forehead now - hold on ... it's reading ... 102.3. Wow - that's high, isn't it? No wonder I feel like hell." "Yeah, you have a pretty good fever going right now, that's for sure. All right - do you have any orange juice in your fridge?" "Babe, is that really important?" You loved your ginger doctor boyfriend with all your heart, but you were shivering again and you weren't in the mood to take an inventory of your refrigerator contents. "I know it seems like trivial a question, but you're running a fever and it's important you stay hydrated until we get the temperature back down. Please, go look." "I'll check. And I'm keeping you on the line as I'm walking over to the fridge. While I'm shivering." This time, you clearly heard Will laughing on the line. "Oh, that's nice -  keep laughing at me, Halstead! I'm sick as a dog and you think it's hilarious!" "Hey, I know I can be overbearing at times, but this is important. Bear with me." Will could hear the refrigerator door creak open over the line. "Overbearing doesn't begin to cover it. Okay, I have ... looks like a half gallon of orange juice." "All right, that's good. Here's what I need you to do for me. Pour a full glass and drink it now, along with taking 2 Tylenol. The juice will help keep you hydrated. My shift ends in a few hours and I'll be home. Get some rest and I'll see you in a little while." "All right. I love you, Will." "I love you, too. Drink the juice, take the Tylenol, and get back in bed. See you soon." "Yes, Dr. Halstead. See you later." You tucked the phone into your pocket and went about following Will's instructions. You swallowed some Tylenol and drank the juice before stumbling back into the warm comfort of your bed. You really did feel lousy and knowing you would see Will in a few hours calmed you enough to fall asleep. Hours later, you woke slowly to Will's soft voice and the feel of his hand gently caressing your hair, easing you out of sleep. "Hey, baby - I'm home." You smiled slightly. His voice always comforted you. Will was warmth and safety personified. " ... Will ..." you whispered. He was careful to keep the room dark and warm, the only light was coming in from the hallway. He also added another blanket to the three layers already on you.

When he saw you were awake and aware, his hand migrated to your forehead and his brows furrowed slightly at the heat radiating into his hand. "Babe, you took that Tylenol, right?" He grabbed the thermometer off the night stand and swiped the device across your forehead, reading the results. " ... Yes, with the orange juice." You watched him in the semi-darkness as he read the thermometer, trying to interpret his expressions. Will had employed his doctor-face as he read the results, but you knew him so well by now. His expressive eyes betrayed him when you saw genuine concern in their depths and it alarmed you. "It's bad, isn't it?" you asked softly. His eyes met yours, steady and calm. "Nothing I can't handle and nothing you need to worry about," he said with such conviction you instantly believed him. You watched as he reached under the blankets to take a gentle hold of your wrist to take your radial pulse. Then he pulled out a stethoscope from his medical bag that he kept in the hall closet, putting the buds into his ears, and placing the chest piece on you, listening intently. "I'm getting the full treatment - watching my boyfriend in full doctor mode. Heart and breath sounds, right?" you teased quietly, watching him. Will laughed softly, as he listened through the device. "I've got to take care of my favorite patient." He was quiet for a few seconds before he nodded, satisfied with what he heard through the device. "What were you are listening for?" Will put away the medical equipment and reached for a tiny bottle on the night stand that contained pills and poured a few into his hand. "Mostly tachycardia, and if your lungs are wet, which means congestion. Both of which you have." Your eyes widened at hearing this and Will shook his head to allay your worry, quickly explaining. "Tachycardia in your case is brought on by fever and dehydration. Your heart has to work harder as more demands are put on it, like the fever you have. The congestion clears up when we get the fever and infection under control." He helped you sit up. "Take these - they're antibiotics which will get the fever down fast. Drink all the water in this glass. Take slow sips. You're dehydrated, too."

You smiled at him as he helped you hold the glass to your lips. You always knew Will had the capacity to fuss, but now you were his patient and that fussing went into overdrive. Moreover, you discovered you liked being the center of his medical attention.

Before getting you settled, Will gave you a more potent analgesic to make you more comfortable. He toed off his shoes and climbed into bed beside you, pulling you close, stroking your hair until you drifted to sleep under his watchful gaze.