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chellestrash · 1 month

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Private Matters

Chapter VI

Cam!Boy Frank Castle x Female Reader

Story summary: After stumbling upon a cam website one night you quickly discover your favorite streamer. Unable to get the thoughts and images of him out of your mind you decide to become a supporter and the two of you grow closer to each other over time. Things get complicated when your close friend, neighbor, and crush decides to express his feelings for you.

Chapter summary: Forced to take care of yourself on your own after Frank left for work you decide on some help from a certain someone. Some time later you meet up with your neighbor and he does his best to prove to you how bad he left for leaving you hanging the last time.

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit content, smut, porn, masturbation, public sex, oral sex, teasing, pet names and more stuff like that

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Okay SO...long time no see...but it's out now! I hope you guys didn't forget this story yet, im going to finish it i promise, and I'll try to get the next chapter out a lot faster than this one. Reblogs and feedback are oh so welcome and thank you for reading! Hope you'll enjoy this one. Thank you @chelseasdagger for proofreading and helping with editing this one! Love you!

Ejoy!

Series Masterlist

So there you were, laying on your living room couch in an overwhelming silence that highlighted how lonely your apartment currently felt. With your leg falling off the seat and your eyes stuck on the ceiling above, you let the next couple of minutes pass you by, quietly reminiscing on the feeling of Frank's touch, somehow still present on your skin. Dragging your palm down your face, you sigh loudly, hoping the frustration and disappointment of the situation leaves with the breathed out air. Your eyes drop, focusing on the front door that closed behind your favorite neighbor just a moment prior. Your brain, against your will, focuses back on what could've happened if the alert on his phone hadn’t, rudely, interrupted the plans you two had for the rest of the afternoon.

Grabbing your phone, you check the notification quickly but there's nothing really worth your time.

With no further plans for the day occupying your mind, you scroll for a bit, hoping to distract your mind and make the feeling between your legs disappear before it's too late.

With a loud sigh, you adjust your position on the couch, letting your legs fall open slowly as you close your eyes and try your best not to let your mind slip back to Frank. Unsuccessfully.

With your eyes closed, your mind begins to wander, wander back to the touch that previously left your body so abruptly. The way Frank's fingers felt, brushing over your skin gently but impatiently. The way he pulled you closer, not wanting this moment to slip away from you, and his lips. God, his lips. Your hips shift slightly at the memory when a barely audible moan escapes your mouth. Brushing the side of your neck gently with your fingertips, you trace over the trail of kisses he left on your skin.

“God.”

You grunt, opening your eyes after realizing how dumb what you're doing had to look. After debating on texting Frank, you ultimately decide that sending him a 'Hi, I'm horny now and need your help,’ in the middle of his work day was probably not the smartest move at this point in…whatever the hell you two had going on together.

“So fucking stupid.”

You mumble, quickly unlocking your phone, knowing god-damn well what page you need to open to deal with this whole thing. You sigh, rubbing your fingers over your eyes once “The Punisher” shows up in the suggested searches before you even have the time to type out the whole name of the page. You shake your head and click on the link that takes you right where you needed to be.

You scroll past the introduction that you've previously had time to familiarize yourself with on one of your visits to the site and glance over the thumbnails for new content. Your eyes freeze for a second as you scan over the title of the nearest livestream, “highly requested”, and then the hashtags underneath “pocket pussy”. Closing your eyes, you fight against your body's initial reaction with a loud sigh and scroll past the link, instead opting for the gallery of recently added photos.

It takes a moment to get through the new ones you haven't seen before; those that had been posted in the span of the last couple of days. The one that immediately draws your attention is a close up on the bulge in his dark gray boxers. You close your eyes for a second, and it's enough for your head to slip back to Frank. You feel the warmth of his cock under the fabric of his boxers, you feel it in the palm of your hand where you felt it not long ago and where you feel like you should still be feeling it right now.

Pushing your legs together slightly, you open your eyes and flip through a couple more photos but find yourself unable to really focus on the guy from the internet and focusing on your next-door neighbor instead. You try a couple more photos and even a couple of the highlighted clips saved on his pages, but much to your ‘surprise’ none of them really work as well as you're sure they would if it wasn't for your little bit of Frank Castle branded fun.

You scoff at your own thoughts loudly, rolling your eyes back and dragging your hand down your face as the frustration washed over your body once again before opening up your messages. Your thumb hovers over Frank's name for a moment as you question your choices, per usual.

Thinking about you.

You cringe at the words instantly, shaking your head to highlight the feeling to…yourself? Working quickly on the digital keyboard, you try to word your message in a couple different ways, feeling a slight embarrassment at every single alternation, eventually steeling on a quick.

How's work?

Hitting send, you raise your eyebrows and shake your head softly at your own incapability to talk to a man you were just about to fuck on your couch not so long ago. The message hangs in the air, unread for a while, and you assume he's busy. You let it sit there for a bit longer, attempting to distract yourself with some everyday chores around the apartment, before eventually laying back down on the couch again. No answer.

“He's at work, he's busy.”

You explain to yourself once more and work on convincing yourself it's a pretty plausible scenario since…you knew he was working. After a few more minutes you sigh quietly, accepting your defeat.

Hesitantly, you exit the messages app and open the browser on your phone one more time. The designated page already open and ready since you didn't bother to close it up before.

“Alright, you win.”

You mumble quietly under your breath while scrolling back up to the top of the page. Today's livestream only started a few minutes ago and as much as you hate you know their usual length, you're aware there's quite a bit of time left till he's done for the day. You click the link and stare at the small screen of your phone before deciding to grab your laptop from the other room for a more…engaged experience.

Back on the page yet again, you click open the live transmission before sitting back on the couch and finally decide to let yourself relax properly.

You watch the quick introduction where he gets in the frame and greets the chat, quickly getting rid of his shirt, leaving him only in his dark, navy jeans and you catch yourself smiling at the deep, rumbly voice. You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the way he sounded. Aware of the fact that voice changers exist and people who do things like The Punisher tend to use them more often than not, you never really thought that much of his voice…well, except for how much you liked it of course and how it got to you. Besides all of that, he sounded strangely familiar, but you couldn't quite put your finger on the reason why. For some reason, you took notice of it this time more than you usually would.

“Think I might need some help today.”

His words quickly get you to focus back on the visuals more so than the audio of the stream. The frame is, as usual, cut off right below his shoulder. There is no way to see his face and as he reads out the couple of alerts from the chat you begin to wonder if anyone actually knows what he looks like. The thoughts leave your head as quickly as they appeared the second the man on your screen stands up to approach the camera. He takes a step towards the viewers and turns to the side. “You guys seeing this?”

He starts, stating the obvious as your eyes focus on the bulge in his dark jeans. The outline of his cock is as prominent as it possibly could be. The shadows only accentuate the shape, not leaving much up to the imagination. The alerts and tips in the chat ramp up pretty quickly as the community reacts to his state. He chuckles deeply and raises his hands up, but still keeps them in frame.

“Okay, okaaay, settle down. The show hasn't even started yet and you guys act like this?”

He clicks his tongue.

“‘Least wait till you see it, huh?”

The cockiness of the statement makes the corner of your lips pull up slightly.

The man sits back onto his chair, pushing his legs open with a grunt, palming himself over the jeans. Your head kicks you back to the way you pushed your hand against Frank's bulge. You let your head fall back against the couch and rub your hand over your forehead, debating on closing up the site completely and calling Frank.

“He's working.”

You repeat to yourself one more time, unable to believe how hard it apparently was for you to get over the situation. It felt embarrassing, considering the fact that he most likely already moved on from what happened this morning and was definitely not slipping back to the feeling of your hands on his body every couple of minutes while desperately trying to focus on something else. Grabbing your phone off the coffee table, you check for messages one more time. No response.

Your eyes trail back to the computer screen, and you watch the man push his hips up slightly to pull the jeans down, about halfway down his thighs, the fabric of the pants digging into his skin.

Shit.

You curse yourself in your head and throw your phone on the couch, attempting to focus entirely on the livestream now. The center of his palm rubs over his cock through the fabric of his boxers and a low, raspy grunt leaves his throat when his hips push up, chasing the sensation. You do the same, lifting your hips up to shift on the couch slightly, feeling the faint pulsation between your thighs.

He hums quietly, slipping his hand under the fabric and wrapping his fingers around his cock.

“God damn.”

He mumbles in a low voice, inhaling through his teeth quickly once he tightens the grip around himself.

“Shit.”

You whisper, pressing your legs together, playing with the hem of your pants for a moment as you think this over one more time.

“Aright-”

His voice makes you look back up at the screen.

“About the highly requested part…”

He starts, referencing the title chosen for today's stream. Reaching for something out of view he moves forward on the chair slightly, and you’re not sure if he does it just because or to very subtly show off the darker spot on his boxers right where the outline of his tip pushes against the fabric. With a quiet grunt, he now brings the object into the chat’s view, and you suddenly remember the tag on the video you noticed after you first opened up the page.

You feel a slight twitch between your legs when he presents the see-through, silicone masturbator to the camera and laughs out loud.

“Yeah? S’that what y’all wanted?”

His fingers wrap around the toy and for a second you feel Frank's big palms on the sides of your face. It feels insane how despite having this whole god-damn show in front of you, your brain still clings to that moment with Frank from the morning, but you can't help it. All you can really think to do right now is to give into what your brain and your body clearly need. You rest your back against the back of the couch and quickly slip your pants down and off your legs. Letting them fall on the floor, you spread your legs open and, with your eyes on the screen and your mind back with Frank, you let your hand slip between your thighs. Humming quietly, you push into the touch and close your eyes while slowly circling your clit over the fabric of your panties. It doesn't take long before you touch yourself properly, with the livestream playing in the background and your brain unable to disconnect from the memory of the morning. You're not even surprised by the fact of how quickly you manage to get yourself close.

With the sounds, the visuals in front of you and your brain doing its best to make sure the image of your half-naked neighbor replays in your head over and over and over again, you give into your body's intense desire.

"Oh, fuck."

He grunts again, raising his hips and stretching the toy around his length. The wet sounds spill from your laptop's speaker, and your legs twitch slightly when a loud moan follows.

"Shit."

With your eyes glued to the screen, you watch him pull the silicone sleeve up his cock, up, up and over the tip until he slips out of it completely. The thin strings of his pre-cum stretch out between his body and the toy, and you involuntarily sink your teeth into your lower lip. Allowing your brain to wander, you think about Frank again, focusing on the feeling of his bulge pressed against the palm of your hand. You try to imagine how he looked under the fabric, how he'd twitch against you if you grabbed him tighter, how he'd feel inside you. Your body reacts to the thought, legs twitch again as you speed up the movement, feeling your climax getting closer.

“...Do you think porn is cheating?”

You ask a bit unexpectedly, definitely getting the attention of a couple of people sitting around the two of you at the somewhat fancy restaurant Frank chose for your dinner date. To be completely honest, this wasn't the way you pictured him "making it up to you" like he promised the other day after he had to leave for work so abruptly, but you chose not to comment on the fact. It wasn't like you didn't want to go, or didn't enjoy this... you just simply pictured something in a slightly… different manner.

The older lady dining with her friends to your left gives you a very distinctive glare, making sure you know she heard you, and she does not think your conversation is appropriate. You choose to ignore her, rolling your eyes slightly before focusing your attention back on your date.

“Like doing it?”

Frank answers with a question, seemingly without a second thought, and you chuckle with a confused expression.

“What?!”

You shake your head, laughing louder now, ignoring another glare from the old lady and keeping your eyes on the man sitting opposite of you at the small, round table.

“No, just- like watching?”

You explain your question, already knowing god-damn well you won't just get a straight answer, not from Frank Castle. He seems to be unable to do that, at least in any conversations he has with you.

“Ooooo, oh, just watching, huh?”

He nods with a slight smirk, poking his food with the fork, and you nod as well, giving him a big smile with your silent confirmation.

“Like, if I was watching someone do it and was thinking about you? Hmm?”

You imply oh, so very subtly and Frank glances up now, eyebrows pulled together, the smirk never leaving that god-damn pretty face of his.

“That a confession, or?”

He teases and you roll your eyes with a loud scoff, so absolutely ready to deny the thing you confessed seconds earlier as if nothing happened.

“Oh, shut up.”

You play it off, but he's not ready to let go of it yet.

“Nah, you started, now I wanna know.”

He states, crossing his arms in front of his chest, determined to get the answer from you.

“I asked you first.”

Oh, that's very mature, you tell yourself, adding to the whole thing by mirroring his pose at the table, raising an eyebrow as you silently push him to answer your question first.

“Alright.”

He breaks first, admitting you're right with a small nod.

“I mean…guess as long as you don't know the person?”

He settles on his answer pretty quickly before taking a sip of the beer he ordered earlier. The same one he buys at the bar from you. The same one you pour with a small smile the moment you see him walking through the door at work.

“Why?”

He continues, bringing your consciousness back to the present, scrunching his nose with a cocky smile before squinting to try and read you.

“You wanna tell me something? Huh?”

He tilts his head to the side slightly before licking his lips and you realize he's serious. You don't really think he would mind it, if you told him he left you so horny you had to fuck yourself the other night.

“Oh, you wish.”

You mumble, pushing your ass back on the chair before leaning down on the table, chest exposed a bit more as you rest your chin in your hands.

“What would you wanna hear?”

The question leaves your lips and to your amusement, Frank's reaction only adds to the sudden rush of confidence that fills your entire body.

He grunts loudly, shifting on the chair slightly before clearing his throat, and you fight back the smile, sinking your teeth into your lower lip.

“Did you want me to just admit to it out loud? Hmm?”

You tilt your head to the side now with a wide grin on your face.

“Okay just-”

He starts, but you cut him off quickly.

“Did you just want to hear yes? Hmm?”

You keep pushing and he sighs loudly.

“That what you wanted me to say? Yeah, that's exactly what I did Frank, I just…”

You put on your showgirl voice and he shakes his head with a quiet,

“Christ.”

“Just couldn't help myself, couldn't stop thinking about you.”

You lower your voice and lean forward, closer to him, brushing your leg against his under the table and watching him move slightly on the chair again.

“That what you expected to hear?”

You ask again, this time casually as if nothing ever happened, and watch as he opens his mouth but no word leaves his lips.

“I beat you at your own game, Castle?”

He nods quickly, breathing out a quiet laugh.

“Think you did, sweetheart, yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname and you once again curse yourself in your head, your mind slipping to your favorite pastime activity as of late.

“Guess all that shit we did really got to you, huh?”

He speaks after a moment and you raise your eyebrows, surprised with his final attempt to gain the higher ground in this situation.

“I mean, you're the one walking out of my place with a hard on, Castle.”

You point out quickly, probably quicker than he was expecting because he chokes on the beer, caught off guard by your counterattack.

“Alright.”

He starts, wiping his chin as you laugh louder than before, celebrating your victory, watching him be stared down the older lady who has definitely had enough of the two of you at this point in the evening.

“Alright, you think you won, huh?”

He asks menacingly, lowering his voice slightly. You nod enthusiastically, finishing your drink quickly before innocently resting your face on your hands, elbows on the table, staring straight into his big, brown eyes.

“I do think so, yeah.”

“Mhm.”

He hums, and you know god-damn well he's not willing to give up just yet. Looking past you at the door to the bathroom, he thinks over the choice he's about to make, like he hasn't already imagined it at least three times since you started talking.

“Know how I said I'll make that shit up to you?”

He mumbles quietly now before glancing back over his shoulder.

"The thing we started? At your place? Hmm?"

“Yeah?”

“Think you’re up for it right now?”

He asks, leaning over the table, and you swear your vision goes a little blurry at the thought. You feel the blood rising up to your cheeks and the subtle tingling sensation between your legs. Your body answers for you as you shift in your chair slightly.

“Frank..."

He smirks, watching your reaction, before glancing around the room quickly to check for people who could potentially be listening to your conversation.

“Yeah?"

"Yeah, fuck it, let's go."

He scoffs, shaking his head before nodding towards the bathroom quickly.

"Go, I’ll pay."

“If your phone goes off again-”

You warn him, already getting up from the table and collecting your things in an excitement-filled rush. Frank chuckles loudly with a sly smirk on his face, looking around the room, impatiently waiting for one of the waiters to notice him trying to pay. You turn around and quickly make your way towards the bathroom, turning to walk down the small corridor before you stop in front of the doors. Looking back over your shoulder, you try to assess the situation. It's not like anyone from the main part of the restaurant could see at this point.

“In here.”

You jump slightly at Frank's voice as he walks over to you from behind, you feel his hand on yours and follow as he pushes the door open.

It's one of those... more elegant looking public bathrooms; it feels fancy, it's clean, it fits the level of elegance portrayed throughout the whole restaurant.

"Don't know how long we h-"

You hear the door shut behind Frank and turn around to face him, cupping his cheeks with your palms quickly. You pull him into the kiss and he grunts into your lips loudly while you two stumble to the counter under the big mirrors on the other side of the bathroom. With your lips pushed against his you gasp quietly, feeling the cold imitation marble pressing into your ass. You're not sure what exactly makes your brain switch off when he's this close to you. Is it the fact that you've been waiting for this since the last time you've seen each other, unable to focus on…anything really, your brain occupied by the memory of his touch. Is it the way his lips feel against yours, how he follows when you tilt your head to the side, push your tongue past his lips and your fingers through his hair? Is it the way he reads your body, knowing and understanding when, where and how to touch you?

Once again, you're not sure, but you know all you can focus on at this very moment is Frank Castle's body pushing against yours while his lips trace down your neck hungrily.

“Oh, fuck-”

You mumble, tilting your head down when the kisses grow rougher against your skin. Dragging his hand down your body, he stops right at your ass, his thumb brushing over the fabric while his other hand holds the side of your face as his lips find their way back to yours once again.

He grunts loud once you touch him over the fabric of his pants. Pulling away from the kiss he glances down, focuses on how your fingers feel him and work over the growing bulge between his legs. He lets out a deep, low hum, closing his eyes for a second before staring into your eyes again.

“You feel that? Hmm?”

You nod, pushing your palm against him harder, satisfied with the effect you clearly have on him. He glances back at the bathroom door over his shoulder before turning back to face you again, panting quietly as his lips part, and he asks you a question.

“You want this?”

He asks, hand slipping under the black dress you chose to wear to the dinner. His thumb brushes over the skin of your thigh and you reach forward to hook your fingers over the waistband of his pants.

“Frank, I'm not fucking leaving after all that.”

He scoffs, looking off to the side with a big smirk before looking back at you, shaking his head at your words.

“God damn, sweetheart.”

His hand moves higher up your thigh and you push your legs apart slightly with an inviting hum. He glances back at the door one more time and you squeeze his cock tightly to get his attention back. Frank grunts, loudly this time and grabs your wrist before turning to face you again.

“Yeah, fuck it.”

He mumbles and you cup his face before pulling him close to you again. With your lips crashing against his, he slips his hands down below your ass before pulling you up and helping you up on top of the cold counter top. Pushing your legs apart, he steps between them and even closer to you. You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand touch you over the underwear under your dress, and your hips buck up into the touch.

He chuckles against you, breaking the kiss slightly before mumbling quietly.

“Shit. Look at you.”

He teases, but you wouldn't be yourself if you just let him have it.

“Yeah, you're the one talking?”

Rubbing your palm against his cock, you feel how hard he is now, straining against the tick fabric.

He grinds, bucking into your palm, and you part your lips, grinning at his reaction.

“Shit, look at you, Frankie.”

You turn his own words against him before quickly working the zipper of his pants undone, but he wraps his fingers around your wrist before you can finish.

“Yeah, no, we're not doing that, sweetheart.”

You frown, looking at him with a confused expression as you try to read his intentions.

“Said I’ll make it up to you.”

Your legs twitch slightly at the words.

“Think I can do that?”

He mumbles with his fingers still wrapped around your wrists.

“Promised I'd do it, right?”

He continues quietly, dropping down on one knee and then slowly on the other, right here, right between your legs, right in front of you in the middle of the bathroom at a restaurant you didn't even know existed a couple of hours ago. The sounds of a busy room full of people on the other side of the wall slips through the cracks under the door.

FUCK

You curse in your head while slowly spreading your legs apart in front of him. Frank's hands move from your wrists to your thighs, rubbing slowly up and down your body. He strategically pushes the hem of your dress up your body before resting his head against your left thigh, clearly taking his fucking time.

“Frank, I swear to god if someone walks in now-."

You grunt, moving your hands away from him before quickly pulling the skirt up. He's quick to help, hooking his fingers over the hem of your panties before pulling them down your legs quickly. Making sure not to let the fabric touch the floor, he hides the small piece of fabric in his pocket before glancing over at the main door to the bathroom one more time.

"Yeah, what you gonna do then, huh?"

He asks, eyebrow raised, waiting for your answer. You roll your eyes and pull him closer.

“Shut up."

“Yes ma'am.”

He nods, pushing your legs apart more before shoving his face between them. You’re covering your mouth the second you feel Frank's tongue press against you in an attempt to silence the satisfied moan.

He chuckles, the deep, groggy sound rumbles between your legs and you buck your hips forward, chasing the feeling. Frank moves his hands to your lower back, digging his fingers into your back in order to pull you forward, closer to him. Pushing your legs apart further, you encourage him to continue, your fingers push through his hair as your mouth falls open at the warm sensation.

“You got any idea how long I've thought about this?”

He mumbles, pulling away to stare up at you, and you tilt your head to the side.

“Oh, so you’ve pictured eating me out before, Frank?”

You point out just to get to him, fingers in his hair while he scoffs and shakes his head at your words now.

“You just can't give it a rest, huh?”

He teases, moving closer to you again. His hand moves between your legs once more, his eyes still fixed on yours.

“Can't help it.”

You mumble, feeling the warm sensation of his breath on your skin. Your body shakes in excitement, despite your efforts to hide it, but it's not like there's much you can do to fight against it.

“Can't get over the fact that you've thought about it before, either.”

You admit, and he glances up at you again before pushing his tongue between your folds. Your hips push forward and you moan quietly, letting yourself enjoy the feeling.

“Have you?”

Frank mumbles against your body quickly before continuing to work like that.

“Frank-”

You start, biting into your lower lip as you grip his hair tighter once he makes you feel even better.

“Mhm?”

“Do you-”

You grunt as he chooses to continue talking.

“You seriously think,”

Another grunt as you feel yourself getting closer.

"You seriously think I haven't thought about us fucking before?”

Frank's loud grunt fills the bathroom of the restaurant, and your eyes widen slightly at the sound. His tongue presses harder against you and the pace grows faster as you let your head fall back, resting against the big mirror on the wall behind you.

The pleasure building up inside your body successfully manages to drown out the outside noise of the busy restaurant and for a moment you completely forget where you are. Your eyes close and your mind slips back to your apartment, to how you two got so close only a day before this, how he promised he'd make it all up to you and, now, taking care of how you feel—he was doing exactly that.

Your body twitches, warning both you and him that you're now closer than either of you thought you were.

“Really?”

He starts, going for another tease, but you push your legs together, pressing them against either side of his head and he grunts loudly once more.

“Don't-”

You attempt to steady your breathing, scolding him.

“Don't even start.”

You warn him, wrapping your legs around his back and feel how they shake with his deep laugh.

“Okay, yeah, let me just-”

He focuses completely on you from that moment and you can tell. His fingers dig into your legs as he holds you close. The tip of his nose brushes your clit while his tongue slips inside you. He looks up from time to time, searching for encouragement, seeking your approval or watching your reaction.

“Oh, fuck-”

The words slip past your lips and act as a cue for him, opening his mouth wider as he works his tongue against your clit. Making sure it feels good to you, he works your body with his tongue, his mouth, brushing over your exposed thighs with his rough fingers.

You feel your heart pounding against your chest, the blood rushing to your cheeks, and your body shaking slightly as he finally pushes you over the edge. Your entire body clenches around him once he slips his fingers inside you quickly. You grip onto his body, your hips bucking up and into his touch as you ride out the climax. The many moans, probably louder than they should be, escape your mouth before he moves his hand up to your mouth.

“Shhhh.”

He whispers, chuckling between the loud pants while watching your body slowly calm down after everything now.

You swallow hard; you're breathing faster than normal, your heart pounding in your chest, your legs now pressed together as you feel your body keep twitching at the memory of the feeling.

“Shit.”

You mumble quietly, attempting to get down from the bathroom counter, managing to succeed after another moment. Your legs shake slightly and you hold onto Frank when he gets up from his knees.

“You okay?”

He asks, staring at your reflection as you do your best to make yourself look somewhat presentable again.

“Don't- just don't-.”

You take a deep breath in, earning yourself another chuckle from your neighbor before he steps up to the sink, deciding to clean himself up. You straighten up your dress and turn around to look at his reflection.

“So now should I-”

You start, moving closer to him, but before he can answer the bathroom door swings open suddenly.

You all freeze for a moment: Frank, you and the man now standing by the bathroom door. There's a moment of silence where neither of you know what to say and as you turn to face the young looking waiter directly with your mouth open, he decides to take the initiative.

“You…shouldn't be here, Miss.”

He points out the obvious, clearly not really sure how to react, and you decide to make it as easy for all of you as possible.

“Oh shit, it's the men’s room? I'm so sorry, I didn't realize.”

You grab onto Frank's wrist, speed walking past the confused worker and make your way around the many tables and unsuspecting people, quickly moving towards the main entrance to the restaurant, leading him outside. A loud, relieved sigh leaves your body once you finally make your way outside.

“Okay so…”

You start after a moment when the cool, evening air sobers you up a bit. Clearing your throat, Frank does the same, trying his best to ignore the way his cock strains against the fabric of his pants.

“Yeah, we should…”

“You wanna call an Uber?”

You suggest, and he nods quickly, pulling up his phone at the same time.

“We’ll get back faster.”

“Yep.”

You nod, fighting back the big smile quickly growing on your face as you watch him work his phone, casually taking care of your transport as if nothing ever happened.

The car shows up shortly after he books the ride and you get inside after Frank opens the door for you. You hold onto the back of your dress as you bend down to get into the car and you hear a quiet chuckle behind you.

You take your seat and Frank does the same, resting his hand on your thigh the second you nudge your knee into his, his fingers digging into your skin as he clears his throat. Shifting on the backseat sligtly he pulls the fabric of his pants away from his body, doing his best to keep it together and not let his mind slip back to the images from couple minutes ago.

“You think they’ll let us inside next time?”

He tilts his head closer to you and you breathe out a laugh.

“I mean we didn’t do anything.”

You lower your voice, glancing at the driver before resting your head against Franks shoulder.

“I think no one saw us…except that one guy.”

“Yeah okay, ill let you belive that.”

You laugh again, before exhaliging loudly.

Frank glance at his phone, making sure the driver has the correct address, the building you two lived at, before relaxing into the backseat.

“So, you guys having a good evening?”

The man attempts to strike up a conversation and you quickly turn to Frank, watching his stoic expression while he nods.

“Guess you could say that.”

His palm squeezes your leg tightly before he pulls you in closer, letting you rest your body against his completely.

Taglist:

taglist

@chelseasdagger @lorilane33 @dreadfulxives18 @5thelement @desert-fern

@joybabyjune @ohgodthebogisback

@barnesbabee @babeincolor @liadamerondjarin @therashslingingslasher @lostfleurs @httpwintersoldier @witchychanel @atemydadforbreakfast @sumo-b98 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocksstarlight @violetcyerce

@groovypandaeagle @aishaleblanc @corruptedfool

#frank castle #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x reader #the punisher #jon bernthal #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle au #frank castle smut #the punisher fanfiction #marvel

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heeliopheelia · 10 months

Note

can you do enha as love languages?

I'd love to!! I'm sorry, this is kinda long ://

HEESEUNG'S is definitely 100% physical touch:

- always HAS to have his hand around your waist or shoulders to pull you as closely to him as possible. i perceive him as a rather possessive man so the grip around you only INTENSIFIES whenever he spots a possible ✨threat✨

- holding hands is a must with this man, his thumb always strokes the skin on your palm. if you like to wear a ring, he'd love to run his fingers over the cool metal, with time doing it nearly absentmindedly, out of habit

- man's absolutely obsessed with your lips and kisses them whenever you're in a close enough proximity for him to tug you by your waist and smash your mouths together ^^

- but he loves kissing your cheeks and nose too – and don't even let me get started on your NECK!! oh boy, he lives for licking and sucking on the soft skin in there, marking you up (maybe or maybe not for everyone else to get the message that you're his and his only)

- let's just sum it up with that: whenever this man's eyes land on you – he's dropping everything just to pull you to his side

JAY'S are both gifts and words of affirmation:

- is hands down the best at comforting you when you're feeling down bcs he just can't stand to see his baby upset and he'd do anything to see your pretty smile again

- compliments you so much you'd think he would've ran out of ideas by now but nooo – every day it's a new one from him. and man is also just so fucking GOOD with his words he never ceases to make you feel butterflies in your stomach

- "there's no one else for me but you" "i love the way this shirt looks on you. i'd love to rip it off of you even more" "we're so good together, aren't we?" "everything i do is for you. you're my whole world"

- spoils the living shit out of you bcs he's this typa boyfriend to buy you everything he thinks you'd like or would've caught your eye if you went shopping with him

- it don't always have to be the big things. it can be one pretty flower he spots on his way back home and he's gonna buy it bcs he knows how happy you always get at such small simple gestures

- PRINCESS TREATMENT ALL THE WAY WITH THIS MAN 🗣️🗣️

JAKE – physical touch as well:

- my bro's addicted to hugs and always drags them out for as long as possible... loves to literally ENGULF you in his arms and squish you like a teddy bear

- always finds a way to somehow pull you to his lap, even if the two of you are just sitting by the table side by side and you're watching him eat whatever you've cooked for him earlier – bcs why would you sit on this hard chair when his thighs are so much more comfortable??

- can't go a day without your cuddles so pls make him happy and cling to him every chance that you get. feeling your warm body this close to his just makes his heart feel so full and mushy ajbsnzzsmx

- sleeping without having you in his arms is a literal HELL to him so even if you're not a sleep hugger right now – you're gonna turn into one after two months of dating sim jayun

- needs you to be his pretty little passenger princess bcs there's nothing that makes him happier than resting one of his hands on your thigh or intertwining it with yours to pull it on his lap. depends on his mood

SUNGHOON'S is quality time:

- as he's always busy, he absolutely treasures every tiniest amount of time that he gets to spend with you

- tries his best to never make you feel neglected so expect a date night at least once per week or two if he's super busy. has a list on his phone of all the places the both of you wanted to check out together, so the date ideas never run out

- he makes sure to spend his lunch breaks with you – whether to eat together or just simply take you for a walk

- also, takes three hundred pictures of you on each one of your dates so that he can scroll though them as much as he wants whenever he finds himself missing your pretty face

- thrives off of every moment spent with you, even if the two of you are just laying on the couch and scrolling through your phones. he cherishes your company the most in the world

- shamefully often ditches his scheduled meetings with friends or some work parties only to hang out with you instead

SUNOO – acts of service:

- always plugs your phone to the charger for the night bcs he knows you tend to forget about it as you drift off while scrolling through some dumb social media (an unhealthy habit of yours he discreetly tries to change)

- if you fall asleep after a party or some rough day at work/school and don't have the chance to properly take your make up off – dw cause he's gonna do it for you with gentle caresses of the make up wipes he's bought for you some time ago

- makes sure your plants are watered and healthy bcs he knows how sad you get whenever one of them ends up dying on you :(( (also is a big fan of buying you every single pretty plant he sees in a store so now you're happily stuck 14 of them decorating your bedroom)

- loves to do house chores together with you – he finds it so relaxing!! from washing the dishes alongside with you wiping them dry, all the way to simply dusting the rooms or folding the laundry together – he THRIVES off of every single one of these activities

JUNGWON'S are absolutely words of affirmation:

- since he's still young, physical contact might not be something he's super used to. speaking though – now that's something he's really good at

- "i'm not going anywhere" "loving you is never a task, darling" "i think you're just fine. you're perfect" = best boy at reassurance and boosting your confidence

- always hypes you tf up whenever you feel insecure or worse about yourself, so he makes it a personal mission for him to make all of these thoughts go away as he showers you with hundreds of compliments

- loves praising you and watching you becoming a flustered lovable mess 🫶

- after finding out that you love the sound of his voice and find his talking soothing – bro ain't gonna shut his mouth even for a second. he'd do just about anything to make you happy so if blabbering about every single stupid thing he saw on the internet today is one of these things, so be it 🙏

- he'd break his tongue if that meant you would feel loved by him

NIKI'S are subtle acts of service:

- he's very attentive to everything you do even if he might not appear as such type

- he has all of your order preferences memorized by heart or written down in his notes app. also, he knows you're not the biggest fan of ordering or talking to the waiters so he always makes sure to do it for you and places your order alongside with his by himself

- whenever you're on a walk and it's getting cold, he will FORCE his hat or gloves onto you, rather having himself freeze to death than seeing one shiver running down your body

- walks you to school every morning without a fail and always buys you coffee on the way

- has some or your spare clothes in his wardrobe so if you spontaneously decide to stay the night you don't have to worry about not having anything fresh to wear the next day

#–nonnies asks ♡#carly answers ✎#hope this makes up for the lack of drabbles this week 😋#enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons

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john-get-the-salt · 9 months

Text

Winter Cold (w/spencer reid)

Imagine: A run-of-the-mill winter cold becomes the thing that finally reveals your secret to the team.

Contains: sick reader and sick Spencer taking care of each other, usual bau team shenanigans, a setting where Morgan and Emily are on the team together because that was peak time (imo)

Warnings: None

Snow, thick sweaters, warm drinks-there were countless reasons why you adored the Winter season.

Spending a Sunday morning curled up under a blanket with a hot chocolate in hand while it snowed outside was your love language.

Your body, however, did not thrive under such conditions. You had a terrible immune system so you were extremely susceptible to getting sick. Every winter you had at least one or two boughts of whatever nasty illness was going around that season, be it the flu, strep, etc.

So as winter came around and you got sick like usual, nothing should have been different. Except this year something was different. This winter you had Spencer Reid.

Suddenly you had someone to bring you ginger ale and saltines when your stomach was upset, to make you soup and tea when your throat hurt, to make sure you kept up with your meds and always carried around cough drops for you.

Spencer and yourself had started out as awkward co-workers before slowly becoming friends, which eventually blossomed into something romantic. You told him you loved him about 2 months in after a scare during a case, and he had returned the sentiment when it felt right.

You'd just recently celebrated your 6th month anniversary and everything was going so well except for one teeny tiny minuscule detail....the team didn't know.

You had hoped to gently ease them into the news, but any hope of that got dashed rather quickly on one particular winters day.

•

It was early January and you were fighting off your annual post-Christmas cold. All of the traveling and visiting family had caught up to you and you were suffering the consequences. Your pockets were constantly stuffed full of tissues and you had a permanent stash of cough drops in your desk at the office.

Spencer, the fantastic boyfriend he was, had been taking exceptionally good care of you. You found it slightly annoying that the genius himself hardly ever got sick but you couldn't find yourself mad for long when he was constantly doting on you.

He never fussed about keeping you on track with your antibiotics, never complained when you asked him for a refill of tea, or another box of tissues, etc. But one thing he absolutely loathed was the fact that you wouldn't let him kiss you. On the cheek you allowed, along with the forehead or chin or pretty much anywhere else that wasn't your lips.

You were determined not to pass along the illness to him, so no matter how much he pleaded for just a quick peck you refused. Which, mind you, was no easy feat.

You stood firm on your ‘no lip to lip contact’ rule for about 3 days which was as long as your self control could hold out before you caved and let your boyfriend give you a firm kiss.

The two of you thought it was fine, no harm done, until 2 days later Spencer woke up with a racketing cough.

As you awoke that morning to a coughing Spencer in bed beside you, you sighed. "Don't tell me I finally you got sick too."

He merely groaned in response, and you pulled yourself out of bed so you could start coffee and fetch medicine for the both of you.

"I knew this was going to happen, I just knew you would get sick," you chided as if you hadn't played a significant role in the passing of said illness.

Spencer took the cold medicine you handed him without a roll of his eyes. "It's really nothing, just a runny nose and a bit of a cough."

"Work is going to be hell today. The team has been giving me grief about coughing, just imagine the ruckus when both of us are hacking our lungs up."

"Well," Spencer leaned down to plant a kiss on your warm cheek. "I consider it an honor to have the ability to kiss you-and then catch your cold. No one else on the team has that, so they can deal. And hey, now that we're both sick we can kiss as much as we want."

You giggled, annoyance vanishing as you leaned down and kissed your boyfriend. He attempted to wrap his arms around you and pull you back into bed but you slapped his hands away.

"As much as I love you and your kisses we do still have to work, Supervisory Special Agent Reid."

He sighed dreamily, a dopey smile on his face, "I love it when you talk FBI to me."

His smile quickly dropped as you whacked him over the head with a pillow.

•

Just as you predicted, the team had groaned as it quickly became apparent that Spencer had caught whatever cold was going around the building.

You and Spence arrived to work together, as you always did, on your very best behavior. After learning you both lived in the same apartment building not long after you joined the team, you started carpooling to work every single day. You had those car rides to thank for your friendship and eventual relationship, though the team did not know that.

But what the team did know, was that you and Spencer could not stop coughing. To make matters worse it was a paperwork day without a case in sight, so the team was stuck listening to the two of you. You apologized profusely, nursing a steaming cup of tea and a bag of cough drops. But it got to the point where everybody-minus you and Spence- voted to seclude you both in the conference room. They insisted it was for your own good, but you were pretty sure they had just gotten tired of listening to the sniffling and coughing.

So you two spent the day sitting in the conference room, talking and attempting to get paperwork done while members of the team popped their head in every so often to check-in and replenish your tea and tissues.

Before you knew it, the day was nearly over. There were still 2 hours left yet to the surprise of no one Spence had finished his paperwork already. Thankfully, he hung around and kept you company while you tried to finish yours.

"I really should have seen this cold coming. You know according to researchers, as many as 80 million bacteria can be exchanged in just one 10 second kiss," Spencer rattled off.

You nodded and hummed, as you always did when your boyfriend rattled off some rare knowledge he likely learned from a book he read once 6 years. You were pretty engrossed in the current paperwork you were filling out, so the insinuation of what Spencer was saying and the environment in which he was saying it didn't really catch up to you until it was too late.

"What are you trying to say pretty boy? You two locking lips?"

Finally remembering where you two currently were, work, you looked up from your papers. Spencer sat frozen in his chair beside you as Morgan and Emily stood in the doorway of the conference room with teasing looks on their faces.

"Uhm...."

All it took was the slight hesitation for Emily's joking smile to drop and her eyebrows to shoot so far up their nearly disappeared into her bangs.

"No way!"

"My man!" Morgan exclaimed, clapping as he walked into the room.

Emily followed, practically skipping towards you. "Wait til we tell the rest of the team. Damn, I owe Rossi $50 though. I thought it'd take til Valentines day."

Your jaw dropped as the shock of your friends knowing began to fade and was replaced with confusion.

"You guys bet on us? On whether or not we were together?"

"Oh no, we knew you two lovebirds were gonna get together. We bet on when you were gonna get together and then tell us." Derek clarified. "I bet Garcia $100 you two would wait until Summer to break the news.

Spencer, despite the situation, laughed. "Well, this isn't quite the way we imagined telling the team, but I guess this is it."

Thinking, you glanced at your two friends, who looked as happy as clams.

"We’ll wait to tell the rest of the team if you cut us into the winnings."

"Deal."

#imagine #criminal minds #drabble #criminal minds imagine #fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #x reader #spencer reid x reader #bau

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chococoveredsmores · 1 year

Note

Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #itsv #spiderman: into the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fluff #miles morales imagines #miles 1610

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discokicks · 10 months

Text

BAD IDEAS (ON THE SAME PAGE) — JAMIE TARTT

a fic inspired by bad idea right by olivia rodrigo!

masterlist! song inspo! AO3!

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: football star jamie tartt is an asshole. he’s the one ex of yours that your friends always hated, one that you now all joke about, and one you haven’t spoken to in four years. however, after a chance encounter, the two of you reconnect, and he leaves you with his new number and a hundred questions about his reformed personality. but seeing him tonight would be a bad idea, right?

word count & rating: 11k (wowza), M! (18+! minors get away or i’ll narc on you to your guardians)

warnings: SMUUUUUUT, porn with plot, lots of suggestive language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sprinkling of a handjob, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kids), angst, mentions of alcohol, probable secondhand embarrassment, exes reuniting (it needs a warning sometimes), jamie tartt was an asshole and is now just a prick (in the best way possible), reader is a physio, major fluff, and swearing. also reader is american (bc the author is too. sorry </3)

authors note: well. i wrote it. olivia wrote this song for teenage girls in their twenties (me) only and i immediately thought of this fic the second i heard it. i'm calling this an exercise in smut writing before i embark on my aces (my roy kent series for my new friends) eventual-smut-adventure, so this evolved into something i wasn’t expecting but i had so much fucking fun writing it. god, i love jamie tartt. also! this is my first smut fic at this type of level, so go easy on me. hope you all enjoy. love you all tons! -mags

There are two universal truths in life.

The first is that the coffee shop you frequent on your way to work will and will always have the best cold brew you’ve ever tasted. The second is that Jamie Tartt will and will always be a massive fucking prick, and you’ll never see him again for as long as you live.

These are two things you live by, and while they may seem rather mundane or petty in the grand scheme of things, they are the only truths you can count on these days. Especially when everything else is so up in the air.

However, the universe doesn’t seem to believe in these things as blindly as you do, and this becomes evident the moment that you step into the shop on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Because these two truths (well, they’re fucking bald-faced lies now aren’t they, huh?) are broken within approximately two minutes of each other with seven words.

It began when you greeted Natalia, the barista who was here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday before your shift at the clinic with a wide smile. As soon as she saw your face, her expression turned apologetic, albeit a bit dazed.

“You’re gonna hate me,” she says, putting her hands on either side of the register. Your brows shot up at her words. “We just ran out of cold brew.”

Your face falls. “You’re kidding.”

“We were low on it this morning,” she starts to explain, “our stupid night-shifters didn’t prep enough last night. And it’s been selling like crazy today.”

“Seriously?” you nearly whine. “I might cry.”

“I’m sorry, Doc,” she apologizes, but she doesn’t sound too apologetic. Natalia’s eyes keep shifting to your left, the dazed look in her eye never faltering. Then, she says the fated seven words. “But he took the last of it.”

You turn your head in the direction she’s been looking, and your blood runs completely cold. You think you could drop dead and go to hell at this very moment, and it’d be a better existence than what awaits you in the next five minutes. And while this all may sound dramatic, you don’t care.

You don’t care because Jamie fucking Tartt is standing across from you, newly long hair peeking out from beneath his hood. He’s engrossed in whatever’s on his phone, fingers flying back and forth like he’s texting.

You think you could run. You’re pretty sure you could successfully make a break for it and leave Natalia high and dry without him seeing you. It’d be an easy exit, and you’d never have to see him again.

But then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up. And the second he meets your gaze, his face falls in what you can imagine was a similar fashion to yours.

Fuck.

Luckily, Natalia is none the wiser. She barely notices your expression, and with Jamie by the pick-up area, she can’t see the way he’s looking at you. So, instead of questioning you, she straight-up giggles.

“I know,” she practically squeals. “I was totally going to save you the last of it, but he asked for it. And I mean, c’mon. It’s Jamie Tartt. I couldn’t possibly say no to him.”

You tragically know that feeling all too well. Knowing you probably would have had a snappier, more cutting response to that if you weren’t in the most debilitating phase of shock, you settle for a quiet, “It’s okay.” You nod at her, brushing it off in an attempt to be casual. “I can settle for an espresso today.”

Natalia nods, tapping it into her register. “Same size as usual?”

“Yeah,” you say, not completely sure what you’re agreeing to. You glance over again at Jamie and find that he’s still standing there, staring at you, and you immediately blink away. “That’s fine.”

The rest of the transaction feels as though it takes a millennium and three seconds all at once. You’re still caught off guard by the time Natalia gives you your receipt with a dazed look in your eye that now matches hers.

However, yours isn’t because you just saw your favorite Richmond player or your favorite reality show villain. It’s because you’ve just seen your ex-boyfriend and you’re about to walk over and stand next to him for a prolonged period of time.

Nothing about this scenario feels real. You hadn’t seen him in four years. Not since things ended as ugly as they had, with him leaving you sobbing outside of a club at three in the morning, letting you know that things were over between you two. And he hadn’t even given you a reason. It was just that he wasn’t ‘feeling’ it anymore.

You saw in a tabloid about three months later that he was now seeing Keeley Jones (yeah, having to compete with that did not sit well with you at all) and had drawn your assumptions from there. Whether or not he’d been seeing her behind your back or had broken up with you to be with her, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You were in your anger stage of the break-up and only knew one thing.

Jamie Tartt was a massive fucking prick, and you’d sooner walk on a bed of nails before you saw him again.

But now here he was. And there were no nails to be found.

You avoid eye contact as you pass him to wait for your coffee. There’s a piece of you that wants to say hi and play it cool, just to put on a show for him about how unaffected you were by everything that had happened. The other piece of you hopes that not a word is said for your entire time here.

Unfortunately, neither of those happen.

Jamie slides over to be near you, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands are stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, and you wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t.

Instead, you can feel the ‘play it cool’ part of you rise up to the surface. You could do this. You could feign indifference. Fuck him, you could be cool.

You glance over at him and see that he’s pressing his lips together, eyes shifting around the coffee shop. It’s crazy how familiar you still are with his tells to know he’s desperately looking for a way to say something.

You say it for him. “Hi,” you say simply. Cool and unaffected.

It’s as if the one word alone makes him flinch. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Hi—” He clears his throat after his greeting comes out cracked, and he stuffs his hands further in his pockets. “Hey.”

The awkwardness of this moment is killing you, and it’s taking everything in you to pretend like it's not. As you search for something else to say, you land on, “You took my cold brew.”

You can see his brows shoot up out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, fuck, did I?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I come in here every morning. Friends with the barista. Said she was going to save me the last of it, but…” You trail off and finally look at him. “She couldn’t say no to Jamie Tartt, apparently.”

You want to jump up and down about how well you’re doing right now. Maybe you are over him. Maybe you’ve finally moved past this shit, and seeing him once more is all you needed to solidify that. Maybe—

The second he chuckles softly with an apologetic smile, your confidence in those things shoots down. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Since when do you drink cold brew, anyway?” you ask, frustrated with the fact that he’s fucking laughing in front of you. “You were always a like, caramel macchiato or frappuccino asshole.”

The names make him laugh harder, shaking his head. “Don’t like those anymore,” he responds. “Sugar hurts me teeth. Tryin’ somethin’ new.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “My fucking coffee.”

That chuckle continues with a shrug. “I’m sorry.” he says again. Then he pauses. “But it’s not like your name was on it, or anythin’.”

Your face draws blank, and immediately, Jamie can tell he’s made a misstep. And it’s not that you’re angry about the joke, it’s just the… everything. Him. The situation. Everything you can remember that you wonder if he bothers to remember too.

Before you can walk away, you feel his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats for a third time, turning you so that you’ll look at him. Your pissed-off expression meets his easy smile and it only fuels your anger more. “I was jokin’. I’m sorry I took your coffee. We can get ‘em to put your name on it if you want.”

“Whatever,” you mutter. It’s not the most mature thing you could have said, but frankly, you don’t care. You just want to get your consolation espresso and get the hell out of here. “What are you even doing over here anyway?”

You’re not sure why you ask it. You don’t know why you keep the conversation going. Jamie looks just as surprised as you are. “I moved over here a couple weeks ago,” he answers. “Got sick of the old place.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you reply. By the way that Jamie snorts, you know he recalls just how much you hated his apartment when you knew him. It screamed twenty-two-year-old AFC-money shithead and you would tease him about it constantly. “Was the empty beer bottle sculpture finally giving you mold poisoning?”

He chuckles again. “That came down shortly after we stopped talking.”

“Oh, so I was just lucky enough to see it in its final days?”

“Oi,” he says, pointing at you. “That thing was fuckin’ impressive and you know it.”

“Impressive in a dorm,” you shoot back. “Not a seven million pound flat.”

He bows his head in a guilty manner. “You remember that, huh?”

“Hard not to,” you answer. “You never stopped talking about it.”

He at least has the decency to wince at that one. “I know,” he says earnestly. It makes you look at him. He shrugs once more. “I wanted to impress ya.”

He did impress you. But not with things like that. He’d impress you when you watched him play, he’d impress you when he made you laugh, and he’d impress you on the rare occasion that he’d just be himself in front of you. Not some asshole footballer. Just him.

But you don’t say that. You say, “That wasn’t the way.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Got that now.” He rocks back on his heels again, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he wants to. “I was a proper fucking dick to you, wasn’t I?”

That almost makes you fall over. Did he just say that? Did he actually just admit that? Out loud, here, for everyone to hear? Accountability? Unprompted? From Jamie Tartt?

You want to glance around to see if Rod Sterling’s going to emerge from the bathroom to narrate the next couple of minutes of your life, but are too shocked to do so.

Your surprise must show in your eyes, because Jamie laughs to himself. “Yeah. Wild, innit?” He shakes his head. “On a bit of an apology tour this year. Trying to build back some bridges, or whatever.”

The nod you give him is slow, still reeling from all of this. “Right,” you say lamely. “Building bridges.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you and for a brief moment, you think he may just mean it. The sincerity in his eyes is clear. “I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry.”

Whatever you were expecting when you stepped into this coffee shop on this rainy Wednesday, it certainly wasn’t this. And you certainly weren’t expecting your first time reuniting with him to go this way— with him apologizing to you. The actual words ‘I’m sorry’ just left his mouth.

You genuinely don’t know who this is. Because it’s certainly not the Jamie you knew.

You saw flashes of this guy. Quiet moments during your short-lived relationship, typically when it was just the two of you. It’s the type of guy you always knew he could be if he tried. The type of guy you pushed him to be.

(Your friends always taunted you about having the ever-horrendous I-can-fix-him gene, and they never quite let go of it. But it’s not like it wasn’t true.)

Those flashes are why you held out for as long as you did. If it were anyone else, any other asshole who treated you the way he did, you would have dropped them in a second. But he wasn’t like that. Not always, at least.

It was terrible to think like that. You’d been in a low spot when you’d met him and had taken even lower when he left you. You’d recovered tenfold from that and now knew your worth.

But as he stands in front of you, apologizing, genuinely apologizing, and looking at you like that, you start to question it.

No! the logical part of your brain practically screams. Don’t you fucking dare.

You’re keen to listen to that for the time being. It hardens you. And all you can do is nod at him again. “Well, uh—” Your voice comes out hoarse. You cough awkwardly. “Yeah. You were. Terrible to me. And, uh… thank you. For saying that.”

So much for playing it cool. You want to slam your head up against the wall but hold yourself back from doing so.

He nods at you, opening his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by one of the baristas calling your name. His cold brew’s sitting on the counter too, something the two of you clearly missed in the middle of your conversation.

When you reach for your drink, he grabs his too. He’s still staring at you, biting the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. When you go to move around him, he stops you.

“Look, I just—” You look up at him expectantly, and his shoulders deflate. “I know you probably want nothin' to do with me. But, I just… I want to talk to you.”

Your espresso is hot in your hands. “Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

That’s when he says your name. Your actual name. Not the nickname that everyone calls you, not a pet name that he used to use, he says your name. And it makes you stop in your tracks.

It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking dumb that your fucking name can send you back to the day you first met him and were completely taken with him. You hate it. And you hate the way it makes your walls come crumbling down.

“Please,” he begs. “Can we… Can I at least give you my number? It’s a new one, but I-I think I’ve still got yours. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But just so you can… I don’t know? Think about it?”

You wouldn’t know if he still had your number. You blocked him ages ago. But you doubt it.

However, the more you think about it, the more you consider it. It’s the product of your resolve falling and well, everything else about him now. You think about it.

If you allowed him to give you his number, the ball would be in your court. You could do what you wanted with it. You could text him, you could tell him to fuck off, you could ignore him. It was up to you.

And you don’t know if that’s worse or better.

You decide on better. The second you sigh, Jamie knows he’s got you. A wide grin breaks out on his face as you hand him your phone. “I’ll think about it,” you mutter.

That’s good enough for him. He gives your phone back to you, new number inserted and new contact created. You’re glad he didn’t search for his old one. That one just says ASSHOLE in big capital letters with about a million gun emojis.

(That was done by your previous roommates in an effort to get you to move on from him. You thought it was a bit overdramatic. You were never one for emojis.)

He’s smiling when he holds his coffee out for you. You stare at him blankly, thinking he’s attempting to cheers you. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “Take it.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“Trade with me,” he clarifies and your expression turns to one of shock. “C’mon. You said it’s yours anyway, right?” When you don’t move he rolls his eyes. “Offer’s only good for another second. Me arm’s getting tired.”

At that, you sigh rather dramatically and grumble to yourself, trying not to act pleased by the gesture. You hand him your coffee and he gives you his. “Thanks,” you say. It was kind of him.

His grin returns and he nods at you. “Alright,” he says. After a slightly awkward beat, he steps back from you. “It was good to see you, Doc. Really.” You’re taken back by how genuine his voice sounds and say nothing in return. “I’ll talk to you later?”

He says it as a question, hopeful and well-meaning. “Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally. “Maybe.”

That too, is good enough for him. Because he sends you one more smile, then walks out of the coffee shop with your espresso in hand.

You’re still reeling from the interaction when you glance down at his your cold brew and see Natalia’s handwriting. She’s made it just as you like it, down to the milk and everything.

But below it is a small drawing. It’s a tiny shark fin with a #9 written inside, with little lettering circling around it.

Doo-doo-do-doo-do-do-doo.

You’re fucked.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” is the question that your best friend and former roommate Leah screams at you over drinks at a busy rooftop bar. So busy, in fact, that barely anyone looks over at the two of you.

You’d made the mistake of telling Leah that not only had you run into Jamie on Wednesday, but you’d let him give you his number.

And you’d texted him after hours of deliberation.

It was something innocent, something you’d thought way too much about, but innocent still. You weren’t sure if you were ready to actually talk to him, but there was something about texting him that wasn’t so scary. Your guard was clearly still up, evident by how dry you were in your messages, and you were keeping your distance. You never texted back too quickly, didn’t ask many questions, and often left him on read.

(Yeah, you’d turned your read receipts on for him. What about it?)

Your first text was a simple enough question, something that you’d been genuinely wondering about since you saw him. It was open enough for a conversation but not too forward. how’d you know my coffee order?

His response came in minutes later. Is that yours? Good taste. It was shortly followed up with, That espresso you drink was fucking disgusting though.

And that was that. That was how you started texting your ex again. That’s how you reconnected yourself with Jamie Tartt. That’s how you knew it was over for you.

And that’s how you’re pretty sure you’re about to kill your best friend.

Leah’s eyes were wild, somehow angry yet still disbelieving yet intrigued. But the intrigue was very minimal. Very minimal. It was hidden well by how pissed off she was at you.

She had every right to be pissed at you. She was the one who always warned you about him. She’d straight-up nursed you back to health when you broke up. She was the one who had to hear about him 24 hours a day until you were finally over him.

Leah had had a year of peace. And now you were killing her for good.

“You’re kidding, right?” she follows up with. Her grip on your arm is tight. “Please tell me your kidding.”

“Leah…” Your voice is weak.

It tells her everything she needs to know. “Oh, my God! Oh, my. God.” She puts her face in her hands. “You’re insane. You’re fucking losing it and we need to have you checked out right now.”

“I’m completely sentient and in control of my own body.”

“Are you sure?”

You sip at your cocktail. “I reset a knee today. I’m pretty sure.”

“I think you might need to reconsider,” she says. “Because you just told me that not only are you talking to Jamie Tartt again, but you were the one who instigated it!”

You deserve this verbal beatdown and you know it. But all you can do is shrug. “Technically, he gave me his number. He’s the one who instigated it.”

“I’m gonna throw my fucking drink in your face,” Leah threatens, gripping her glass in warning.

You roll your eyes at her. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you say, even though you know you’re probably lying. Leah knows this too. “We’ve just been texting a little. It’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah, sure,” she deadpans. “Right. And even if I did believe you, what happens if it does? What happens if you get back in your weird, scary Jamie phase and he kills you again? I can’t deal with that.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you assure her, and this time it’s more confident. Because you know you won’t. Not this time. Not if anything happens.

You’d met Jamie when you were twenty-two. You were in your first year of your Masters program, slightly lost as in your move to London to finish your journey to become a physical therapist. Or a physio, as they called it here. Whatever. You couldn’t keep up with the names.

You were shadowing a physio at the clinic you now worked at, assisting him as a part of your internship at one of the football tournaments the clinic worked at. It was a ton of big-wig footballers, some names you recognized, others you didn’t. But it didn’t matter. They were precious fucking cargo and you were so paranoid about screwing up that you barely registered who they were when you worked on them.

That was, until a twenty-two-year-old Jamie Tartt sprained his ankle and plopped himself down on your doctor’s bench. He looked at you, you assisted him, and you were wrapped up in what you were doing that you didn’t even notice he was flirting with you.

You didn’t realize until he asked you out. And the rest was history, for better or for worse.

You were surprised he went for you. You knew who Jamie was, what type of girls he liked to be seen with. They were singers and models and actresses. They weren’t you.

(Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you liked him so much. Because he chose you. You didn’t like to think about that phase of your life.)

But after six months of seeing him, he ended things out of nowhere. Right when you’d settled on the idea that despite it all, you might be in love with him. And that was that.

You hadn’t seen him since. Not until this week.

“Not gonna happen my ass,” Leah scoffs, bringing you back into the conversation at hand.

A sigh of frustration leaves your lips. “Listen, I know it’s a bad idea;” you tell her. “I know it is. But, I don’t know. There was something different about him, Leah. He was just… like not someone I recognized.”

“Maybe because his hair is fucking long and stupid now.” She brings her glass to her lips. “His highlights look horrendous.”

“I actually like his hair like this,” you admit, earning yet another eye roll. “Listen. I’m not saying he’s changed. He probably hasn’t. But I…” You trail off with a shrug. “I don’t know. What if he has?”

Leah’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person she’s ever met in her life. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asks incredulously. “Babe, he was a prick to you. Like, category-five, prestige-level twat. Like, worst boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“I know,” you repeat. “And I said nothing’s going to happen. But if it does, and it goes south, I give you full permission to say I-told-you-so for the rest of my life, alright?”

Leah bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Whatever,” she says. After a moment, she glances over at you. “I’m just looking out for you, y’know. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I definitely don’t want him to be the reason for that hurt again.”

You grab her hand. “I know,” you say once more. “And I love you for it. But if I’m gonna be stupid, I’m fully aware of when I’m gonna do it. And it’s gonna be my own fault.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Leah nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Fine. Your fucking funeral.”

“I’ll let you give the eulogy and allow you to call me a dumb bitch for ten minutes straight.”

“Sold,” Leah says, pointing at you. That slight intrigue you previously saw in her eye returns. “Okay, now that I’ve yelled at you, you need to tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell her how he took your coffee, how you nearly threw up the second you saw him, how you played it cool until you didn’t. How he apologized to you. Joked around with you. Apologized some more. And then he gave you his coffee.

You despise how excited you sound about it. Again, you’re trying to play it cool, but the people that know you the best can always see right through you. You’re excited about it. Excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to be excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to look down at your phone after you and Leah order another drink. Your heart stops when you see he’s texted you.

It’s a bad idea to open the message when Leah excuses herself to go to the bathroom. What are you up to tonight?

It’s past midnight on a Saturday and he’s texting you. It’s still preseason for him, so he might be drunk, he may not be. You’re three drinks deep and aren’t sure if you are.

It’s a bad idea to respond to him. getting drinks with a friend. You keep it dry.

It’s a bad idea to not look down at your phone until you finish the drinks you ordered. Because now, you’re definitely drunk and looking at it all with new eyes.

Would you want to hang out tonight? No pressure.

It’s a bad idea to consider it.

But it’s a worse idea to agree.

text me your new address. i can be there by 1:30.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re knocking on Jamie’s door, intertwining your fingers together when you realize you’re shaking.

The second you do it, you regret it. You’re no longer feeling the effects of your drinks. It wore off on the Uber ride over here. And everything seems like a terrible idea now.

God, what were you doing? He treated you like that and the second you see him again, you go running back? He was an asshole. He’d made you question everything about yourself, he’d made you cry, he’d made you experience every fucking emotion in the book and all it took is one text for you to be back on his doorstep?

Your roommate was right. This was a horrendous idea and you were an idiot.

However, none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Jamie Tartt’s opening his door and he’s got a stupid fucking smile on his face. And the second you see it, you know there’s no turning back.

“Hey,” he says as he opens the door. “You alright, love?”

You clench your jaw at the name, at his smile, about how casual he’s being, about everything. “Hey,” you say, avoiding his eyes to look around his flat.

It’s a complete 180 from what he had when he first joined Richmond and what he had when you knew him. It’s a bit less mojo-dojo-casa-house-looking and something more mature. While you can still tell that a twenty-something guy definitely lives here, it’s decorated well, it’s put together, and it’s clean. No beer bottle sculptures in sight. He’s even got a fucking candle burning on his counter. Who the fuck is this and what did he do with the guy you knew?

Jamie follows you as you enter, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You find the place okay?”

His question snaps you out of your flat-induced haze. “Yeah,” you reply. You clear your throat. “This is nice.”

That same, stupid smile returns, but it looks a bit nervous. “Yeah. I told you it was a bit different, huh?” he chuckles. He walks toward his island, rounding it as he speaks. “Needed a fresh start or whatever. The old one was gettin’... old.” He watches you as you nod, continuing to look around. “You still in the same place with the same people?”

“Uh, no. Different place. No people,” you answer. You’ve stayed on your side of the counter, actively keeping your distance. “Willa moved to New York last year and Leah moved with her boyfriend. We live in the same building, though, which is nice.”

The small talk is fucking killing you. You’re not even sure if he cared to remember your previous roommates' names, so this all could be pointless. You can’t believe you’re here. You can’t believe you’re actually standing here, talking to him about the past.

But as you finish speaking, he nods like he’s listening. Maybe he is listening. Maybe he does remember.

“I’ll have to see that sometime,” he ends up saying, and the implication of it makes your head spin. He wants to see you again. Or he just learned small talk common courtesy. Whatever it is, it’s driving you insane. You have so many questions for him, so many things to say, and as he wipes his hands on his pants again and nods over to his kitchen, he asks, “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got—”

“Why did you invite me here, Jamie?” The question comes spilling out of you, rushed as if it were waiting on the tip of your tongue and simply couldn’t stand to stay in any longer. Jamie stops in his tracks to blink at you. The look on his face encourages you to go on. “I mean, I know I texted you first. But why… why did you text me tonight? Why’d you—” You grimace, trying to find the right words. “Why’d you give me your number?”

He’s silent for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. But his eyes haven’t left you. “Because I wanted you here,” he finally says. You cross your arms over your chest as he takes a step toward you. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.”

You want to say that you’ve been driven crazy all week because you feel same, but decide against it. Instead, you look away from him and scoff. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you, and your heart stops with every step he takes. “I felt like I was goin’ insane. I didn’t…” For a flash of a second, he looks shy. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I didn’t think you’d actually text me. I mean, I hoped you would, but…”

He’s right in front of you, but you still refuse to look at him. Your gaze has shifted to the floor. “I shouldn’t have,” you mutter.

The asshole has the nerve to chuckle, but it’s nervous. Your stomach churns. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him nervous. “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agrees. “I don’t deserve it.” He pauses and your throat starts to tighten. “I didn’t deserve you.”

That makes you look at him. Either he’s actually apologetic about everything, or he’s gotten really good at knowing everything you want to hear. “No. You didn’t.”

His fingers tentatively brush your arm and you allow him to take your hand. “I know,” he says. “I was a fucking prick. I get that now. I should never have… done that shit to ya.” You’re close enough to him now that if you moved an inch, his forehead would be up against yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. The action makes your throat tighten. “And I can’t fix it. But I…” He trails off again and looks you dead in the eye once he has the words. “I want to make it up to you.”

Your resolve is getting weaker and you hate yourself for it. You lean back against the counter, like that will put space between you two. “Jamie…”

“Please,” he whispers. His forehead finally meets yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. You don’t pull away. “Let me make it up to you.”

The last front you have standing weakly presents itself. “If you think,” you begin, breath shuddering as his hand meets your neck, “that one 2 AM hookup is going to make up for what you did, I—”

“I know it won’t,” he says, and it sounds like he does know. “But I want it to be a start.” The fingers on your neck are now tracing your jaw. And they tighten when he says, “Let me show you just how sorry I am, yeah? Let me make it fucking good for you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. That last front dissolves the second he says that, and your logic flips on itself. You came over here for a reason. You knew what this was. At least you got an overdue apology. Whether or not he meant it, is still up in the air, but if he’s promising things like that, then you might as well get something out of it.

You struggle to get a word out, so you nod against his hand. “O-Okay,” you finally stammer out. The way he’s looking at you gives you enough confidence to say, “Fine. Make it up to me.”

Jamie’s lips curl into a smirk and say, “As you wish,” before they’re on yours.

He’s softer than you remember. His lips aren’t chapped, he isn’t as aggressive with it, and he isn’t as rushed. Everything about him feels more mature and you struggle to understand how fast he could have changed in four years. But you’re not complaining. Not when he’s kissing you like this, with more practice and passion than you can ever recall.

His hand unlocks from yours to slide it up your sweatshirt, and it’s surprisingly warm against your back. Still, you shiver from the contact and you can feel him smirk once more against your lips.

The action alone prompts you to fork a hand in his hair and tug at it slightly, reveling in the soft sound that escapes him. Everything about him comes back to you at once, and you’ve never been happier to know that the same things still get him. If he wants to play it like that, you can keep up.

His hands drop to grab your thighs and lift you onto the counter, breaking the kiss momentarily. Your chest is heaving up and down, lips swollen and wet. Jamie appears to be in the same boat. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding even more out of breath than you. He dips his head to press a kiss to your neck, nose rubbing against it as he makes his way down. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Meant to tell you that at the shop.”

You’re too caught up in it all to play it cool, especially as he works at that one spot on your neck. “You look— fuck, you look good too. The long hair suits you.”

You feel him grin against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathily. “Looked like a prick with the old cut.”

You feel his teeth dig into your skin at that one, and you hiss. “You liked that prick,” he reminds you.

You were in love with that prick, but you ignore that thought. “I liked a lot of things about him,” you respond. While it’s honest, the accidental double meaning of it isn’t lost on you.

It’s certainly not lost on Jamie. “Yeah?” he asks again. He lifts his head to look at you, hand creeping up your leg. “What’d you like?” You grip his arm as it rises beneath your sweatshirt once more. “C’mon love. Tell me what you want.”

You hate the way your breath hitches the second his fingers meet your back. You know what you want. You want to see what he’s learned since you last had him. What he’s like four years later. What’s changed, what’s stayed the same. But you’re too embarrassed and much too proud to ask.

Instead, you decide to say, much too shyly for your liking, “You know what I want.”

He hums in agreement, other hand creeping dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “I do, don’t I?” he murmurs. “Bet I know everything ya want. But I wanna hear you say it.”

“Oh my, God,” you say under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice. The asshole fucking laughs at you. “I want you to make good on your promise. This seems far from it.”

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he tells you. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just making sure we’re still, y’know. On the same page.” He glances at you. “Right?”

You blink at him. You’re not sure you could have been clearer about what page you’re on. But that’s not what surprises you. What surprises you is the seriousness in his eyes. How he’s searching for assurance in yours. And you know that if, for whatever godly reason, you wanted to stop, he’d pull away immediately, despite how worked up he clearly is.

It's the bare fucking minimum, but it's more than you’re used to getting.

So, you nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Definitely on the same page.”

The grin he breaks out to is nothing short of breathtaking. “Good.”

“But—” you suddenly say, stopping him from leaning in once more. He freezes beneath your touch, brows furrowing. “This is… This is a one-time thing. You’re…” You trail off to find the word. “You’re apologizing to me. That’s all this is.”

His smile falters, dropping momentarily before returning with a bit less radiance. It’s his turn to nod. “Okay,” he says, fingers now toying with the edge of your sweatshirt. “Gotta make it count, then.”

And with that, Jamie presses his lips back to yours, grabbing you securely and pulling you off the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist, grabbing the sides of his face, like that’ll stable you against him.

This time, it’s more desperate. It’s more tongues and teeth, more force and intention behind each movement. He’s setting the pace, but you’re keeping up tenfold. While it’d been four years, you’re not sure if he’d ever kissed you like this. He’s passionate instead of aggressive. While he knows what he wants, he’s definitely not just going to take it. He may be leading but he’s listening to you. And that stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

That much is clear, because you unconsciously let out a quiet sound against his lips. You can feel him smiling once more as he walks you slowly to wherever the hell his bedroom is. You’re caught up in him. And by the way he’s gripping you, you can tell he’s just as caught up in you.

So much so, that he completely loses track of where he’s going and accidentally slams you into his doorframe. You yelp, more because of shock than pain, and pull away to glare at him.

Jamie’s already apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Still gettin’ used to this place.”

“Well, figure out how to navigate better,” you respond, verging on a pout as you rub the back of your head.

“I’m sorry!” he repeats. He’s still got you against the doorframe. “It’s hard to see with your big head in me face. And I can’t kiss ya with, like, my eyes open. It’d be freaky.”

“I’ll give you a pass for that one,” you reply dryly. “Be weird instead of giving me a concussion.”

He’s walking you toward the bed when he mutters, “I’ll give you something, alright.”

Your back meets the mattress and you try to ignore the way he held his hand behind your head when he laid you down. You have under a second to adjust before he’s on top of you. The desperation returns and it almost takes your breath away.

He’s essentially straddling you, tugging at the waist of your leggings before he leaves one last kiss on your lips. He finally gets to pull your sweatshirt off, something he’d clearly been dying to rid you of since he first kissed you. You lift your arms up to help him, finding that you quickly start to do the same to him. You hear him chuckle as you attempt to get it up his back.

“I got it, love, hold on,” he says softly, tossing your hoodie to the side to take off his own. Your eyes immediately go to his chest and stomach and you refrain from reaching out to touch him. When you look up at him, you expect him to be smirking. However, he’s doing the exact opposite.

Jamie’s looking down at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re real. It’s jarring, seeing him like this, but you figure he’s in the same headspace as you and is still struggling to process that this is happening. It doesn’t matter, because before you can question it, he’s moving to press a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand falls into his hair as he works his way down, mouthing the area of your chest. He pauses before he gets to the bra you’re wearing. His eyes flick up to yours. “Can I—”

You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, shifting to make it easier for him. He discards it to the floor with the rest. When he looks back at you, he releases a shaky breath and just stares.

He stares so intently that you begin to get self-conscious. “What?” you ask.

The question takes Jamie out of his trance. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I just— I… Fuck. I forgot how beautiful you were.”

That spreads a warmth through you, one that pulls at your core. As you feel your face heat, you realize you have nothing to say to that. Luckily, he’s already moving on.

Jamie’s different. Really different. And you don’t realize how different he is until you start looking at him like you are right now. You were trying to convince yourself when you told Leah that he’d changed, you’ll admit that. But right now, you think you may have been telling the truth.

He grabs the waist of your leggings once more, lifting your legs to pull them off. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as he struggles to do so. He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Missed that.”

“What?” you ask again.

“Your laugh,” he replies. “Missed that more than you know.”

The sweet words hit you like a bullet. The vulnerability in his voice is what gets you. Goddammit, when did he get so fucking nice? It drives you insane. But it also makes you quietly admit, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

With your leggings now gone, Jamie’s smile turns fonder. Gentler. He presses a kiss to your leg but says nothing in response. He simply places your legs down, eyes flicking down. He lifts his hand to trace down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your panties. The feeling makes you flinch.

He hooks a finger in the band, and your hips buck up to encourage him. His other hand spreads across your hip in a poor effort to keep you still. “Easy,” he murmurs.

You huff out a breath. “You can—” Your breath hitches as two of his fingers push into your underwear. “Fuck, you can take them off.”

His lips quirk up. “Well, thank you for the permission,” he says. “But not yet. I wanna take it slow with ya.”

Your mouth parts. “Why?”

“Because it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” he answers, moving up to kiss you softly. He speaks against your lips as he says, “And I’ve apparently only got one shot to do this right. So I’m gonna make this last.”

You roll your eyes at his terribly disguised jab. “You’re a dick,” you mutter against him.

“And you’re—” He cuts himself off and a gasp escapes your lips as he cups your core and rubs his palm against it. “Fuck, love. You’re really fucking wet.” He’s positioned on you so that you can feel him getting harder against you thigh. “This all for me, yeah?”

His voice is cocky, while still sounding awestruck. The remaining dignity you have left makes you roll your eyes, albeit a bit embarrassed. “It’s for whoever doesn’t take their fucking time to give me what I want,” you bite.

Jamie draws back from you with a full smirk on his face. “That so?” he asks. The hand against you starts creeping up to the band of your panties. “And what is it that you want? You still haven’t told me.”

You scoff. “I told you.”

He pulls your underwear down your legs and the air around you suddenly makes you realize just how exposed you are. You told yourself you’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this again. But here you were.

His fingers brush against the inside of your thigh, and you shiver once more. “No,” he tells you gently. “You didn’t. You just said you wanted me to keep my promise. You didn’t tell me what you wanted.”

He’s moving closer and closer to the place you want him and you don’t know if you can take it anymore. You shift uncomfortably, as if that will cease the ache. But you know only one thing will.

So, you give him the answer he’s been waiting for this entire time. “You.” His gaze meets yours. “I want you, Jamie. Please.”

That breathtaking grin returns. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

And then he puts his mouth on you without warning.

You spasm at the contact, crying out as he uses both arms to hold you still. The second you calm down, one hand leaves your thigh and you feel him work two fingers into you. Fuck. He didn’t know that before.

And it’s not like he was ever bad in bed when you two were together. You’re not sure you would have stayed with him if that were the case. It’s just… he’s better now. He’s hitting everything nearly perfectly, not stumbling like he used to. He’s more confident. More assured. He knows what he’s doing.

And it’s fucking hot.

The sounds that fill his room are downright obscene. He’s gripping one side of you to keep you in place, splitting you open on his knuckles with the other. His mouth zeroes in on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a way that honestly has you close already.

“F-fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Jamie. Don’t st— shit. Don’t stop. Please.”

Of course, the fucking shit he is, stops. He grins up at you, but continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You sound so fucking pretty begging like that,” he tells you. He’s just as out of breath as you are. He feels you clench around his fingers at the praise and it only eggs him on further. “Look so pretty too. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Jamie,” you whine again. He’s going too slow. Teasing. It’s not fucking fair. He’s supposed to be the one apologizing to you. “I need— Ngh. I need—”

“What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me.”

You think you’d kill him if you weren’t completely incapacitated. “More,” you manage to get out, wincing as he continues at his slow pace. You’re close. Embarrassingly close. “Just fucking more. Please. I’m—” You interrupt yourself with a moan as he shoves his fingers deeper into you.

“I know,” he nearly coos. “I’ve got you.”

And got you he does. Because not only does he pick up the pace, he stretches you with a third finger. The sting of it is momentary, and it subsides as soon as he bends down and swipes your clit with his tongue.

Your back arches. “Jesus fucking— Jamie. Oh, my God.”

He’s good. Of course, he’s fucking good. He’s Jamie Tartt. You’re not sure he’s ever been bad at anything physical in his life. Emotionally was another story. But that story didn’t matter right now. Not when he’s got you like this, and you’re teetering over the edge.

He pulls away from you, breath tickling your core as he speaks. “C’mon,” he chides. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you, love?” He takes your breathy silence as confirmation and nods to himself. “Yeah. You just need—”

He removes one finger and crooks the rest a certain way, deeper than before. Your heart may stop beating. He’s done something he did to you time and time again, something that he was actually really fucking good at, something he knew you liked years ago. When he looks up at you, he searches your eyes. And by the way they roll back, he knows he’s struck gold.

The smirk returns and he continues to work his fingers into you, smirk growing each time he hears you say his name. “Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s it. That’s still it.”

You could finish at any moment. The telltale heat is rising in your stomach, and you’re just waiting for the cord to snap. And then, as if your muscle memory takes over, you reach out for his arm.

But instead of letting you do it like before, he does something completely different. He intertwines his free hand with the back of yours and guides it to your stomach. And then he presses on your hand.

The pressure builds. You’re barely able to make any noise. And then—

“C’mon,” Jamie repeats. “Come for me, angel. I wanna see it.”

The cord snaps, and you do as you’re told. You come. Hard.

Jamie talks you through it, fingers still moving to coax your climax out of you. You’re sure you look pathetic, crying out and thrashing around in his bed, but you don’t care. You can barely fucking see right now.

It’s been a while for you. Or at least been a while since you’ve had anything that good. And it completely strips away any sort of attitude or frustration you had before.

When you finally come back down, you laugh softly, shaking your head and throwing your arm over your face. “Fuck,” you say through a chuckle.

You feel him shift, moving up the bed to hover over you once more. When he removes your arm from your eyes, you see that he’s smiling. “Nobody’s ever laughed after I’ve done that,” he tells you, a faux pout pulling at his lips. He bends down to press them to yours and you can taste yourself. “It better be a good fuckin’ sign.”

You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss. “Very good sign,” you assure him. It’s muffled against him, but you think he gets the point.

It’s then that you catch him by surprise and flip the two of you over, straddling him in a way that makes him release a breathy sound that you’d missed dearly. But, something feels off.

Your glance down at him, expecting to feel or see fabric once you reach his leg. But there’s not much. Only what feels like boxer shorts. It catches you off guard. When did he take off his—

It doesn’t matter. It’s easier for you now. Especially as your fingers move across his abdomen, biting back a grin at the way he shudders. He looks up at you from his pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asks leadingly.

You shrug innocently, fingers toying with the band hanging low on his hips. “Returning the favor,” you reply.

Jamie makes a noise of disapproval, placing a hand on your thigh like that’ll stop you. “I’m supposed to be the one making it up to you,” he states, but his voice gets less firm as you cup him through the fabric. “Fuck. Y-You don’t owe me anythin’. No favors.”

You shake your head, pulling at his boxers so that he springs free from inside. Your eyes travel back to his as you reach out and gently grab his cock, staring down at him with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure?”

He looks pained. You don’t know why. You’re offering a way to take him out of his misery. But still, he shakes his head and moves his arm from your leg to your back.

He takes his turn to flip you over next. He swears under his breath as he does so, shaking his head when you land on your back.

“I told you,” he says, taking his boxers all the way off now. “It’s about you. Not me.” He shakes his head again, but this time it’s a bit more frustrated. When he speaks, it’s mostly to himself. “Can’t believe I just fuckin’ said no to that.”

A snort escapes you. “You’re a changed man, Jamie Tartt,” you joke.

He shrugs before placing his arms on either side of you. His voice teeters on teasing and earnest. “I’ve been trying to tell ya that.”

You’re not sure if it’s him, or the situation, or the sex, but you think you believe him. It makes your chest heavy. But you can’t admit that. You won’t let yourself. So, you keep that feeling tucked away, way in the back of your mind for safekeeping. You know it’s better like that. For your emotional sake, at least.

You allow yourself to prop yourself up on your elbow and kiss him instead of responding to that, bringing him in closer. You can feel the length of him press against your stomach, and his groan vibrates against your lips.

He pulls away, grinding into you. The heat of your body is making him go wild. “Can I—”

You know what he wants. And you want it too. “Please,” you say.

He nods, moving to angle himself against you. You glance down to watch him, heat flooding your face as he strokes himself before glancing up at you. You nod in return, giving him the confirmation he needs. Jamie grins.

He slides in you slowly. The stretch is mild but grows as he hovers over you once more. It’s easy to adjust, having been warmed up moments before. But for Jamie, it’s not as easy.

He bottoms out almost immediately, tensing over you. His head bows, chin falling to his chest. “Fuck,” he curses. It’s quiet but straight-up sinful. “God, fucking— you’re so—” You grip onto his bicep as he steadies himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just— i-it’s been a minute. And you’re f-fucking tight. Jesus.”

You don’t mind. He feels good like this, despite the fact he’s not moving. Your hand travels from his arm to his hair, tucking a piece of it behind his ear before settling on his jaw. “It’s alright,” you tell him. “We’ve got time.”

Jamie’s eyes snap open at that, but he’s not looking at you like you thought he would. You were expecting a cheeky sort of smile, a smirk, something in that realm. But he’s not. He’s looking at you like…

It’s something you can’t define. Something you’ve never seen before. It churns your stomach yet makes your heart race. Neither of you says a word.

He just dips down to kiss you again and slowly begins to move inside you. Your lips part in a gasp, and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Your back arches into him.

Before you know it, he's breaking from you and is breathing heavy against your neck. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re just— fuck. You…” He trails off, mouth hovering over your collarbone. “You drive me f-fucking mad. God, everything about you. Y-you don’t even know, do you?”

The pace picks up. He’s thrusting into you harder now and your nails dig into his back. You hear him hiss at the contact, but neither of you seem to care. “Fuck.” It’s all you can say. “Fuck, Jamie.”

He’s clearly not done talking. “How’d I-I fuck this up? Huh?” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. His mouth is on your chest now and the feeling runs through you like fire. “Fucking idiot. Didn’t know what I had. Can’t believe I let you go.”

You clench around him and it throws him off kilter. You watch his jaw clench, hand beside you gripping the pillow you’re on. “You w-were an idiot.” Your agreement is much less effective when it’s closed out by a high-pitched moan.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. Deserved better.” He continues to slam into you. “I wanna gi—” A strangled sound erupts from his lips. “Give you better. You’re so—” When he shakes his head, he looks wrecked. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Something about that sends a shock to your system. It makes you cry out and you can feel it. Your legs tremble around him. You’re close again. You’re really fucking close.

He kisses you once more, deeper than before. It’s more frantic. Everything about him is more erratic. You can tell he’s getting there too. “Couldn’t stop,” he manages to get out, hot against your lips. “Couldn’t s-stop thinking about you. I missed you.”

You clench around him again, the admission inching you closer. “Shit,” you say. “Fuck, Jamie, keep going.”

And keep going he does. His hand moves down your stomach, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into it and that sends you into a fucking tailspin. He swallows the sound you make.

“Missed you,” he says again, but it’s more helpless. Jamie fucking whimpers. “God, I f-fucking missed you, angel. Missed you so fucking much, I—”

You don’t hear the rest of what he says because you come the second he makes that sound. It’s white-hot. Blinding. Your legs twitch around him and you claw at him as he continues to rub your clit. You’re loud, but you don’t give a shit. It seems to spur him on.

He’s not far behind you. He spills into you with a groan, stomach flexing as he heaves over you, twitching inside of you. You’re still recovering from your own high as you open your eyes to watch him. You catch his expression for a moment before he’s collapsing into you.

You release a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden weight of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and neither do you. You just breathe together. But after a moment you allow yourself to put a hand in his hair.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you tell him, but there’s not much bite in it.

You feel him chuckle. “Give me second,” he says. “Not as fuckin’ agile as I used to be. Took a lot out of me, alright?”

You roll your eyes but continue to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-six and like, the face of the AFC,” you tell him. “Richmond might have to shorten your contract if you’re dying after that.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Take that up with me Chairwoman then.”

You can’t help but laugh as you push him off of you, wincing as you feel him slip out. He lands with the same noise you did. “If she heard you complaining like that, she’d be on my side.”

Jamie grins at you, joining in on your laughter. He shifts toward you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “You’re probably right. Shouldn’t be complainin’,” he says. He lifts your hand to his lips. “Not when you’re here.”

They’re sweet words. The casualty of them makes your heart swell. But that anxiety about him returns. One time thing, you tell yourself. Apology. One time. That’s all.

You pull your hand back softly and he glances over at you. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, like that one movement set off alarm bells in his head. You give him an uneasy smile.

Before you can move to get up or say anything or do something, he’s talking. And you have to refrain from wincing.

“I know…” He looks away from you. Shy. “I know you said one time,” he says, as if he can read your fucking mind. “And that’s… That’s okay. I get that, yeah? But I—” Jamie wipes a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. “I meant what I said. I missed ya. Really.”

You missed him too. But your walls have been rising back up since he started talking again. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” you tell him, only partially lying.

You feel like an asshole when he winces. Maybe you were being an asshole. Maybe it was finally your turn to do so.

“Just…” He finally looks at you. “If you ever… don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” He waves it off in an attempt to look casual. You know he’s anything but. “You’ve got my number. Or whatever.”

The timidness in his voice makes your resolve soften. Even if you don’t see him again, you suppose you can let him down easy. He’s been kind enough tonight to deserve that. You nod at him as you sit up. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

It’s only slightly awkward as you get out of his bed and search for your clothes. He asks if he can call you an Uber home and you reject it, letting him know that you’ve got one on the way.

You can feel his eyes on you as you dress, ignoring the way they burn into you. You can tell he’s searching for something to say, or something to talk to you about but doesn’t know what.

You’re half-dressed before he can shoot himself in the foot and say something stupid. “Hey,” he finally says. You glance over your shoulder at him after you slip your sweatshirt on. “I’m really glad you texted me.”

The nice streak you’re riding on continues and you offer a small but genuine smile in return. “Me too,” you admit, ignoring the way that his own soft smile pulls at your heartstrings.

Before you leave his room, you offer one more admission. You stop in the doorframe he hit you against, lips curling further upward. “It was really good to see you, Jamie.”

He props himself up on his elbow, smile growing. “Good,” he says, nodding. Then, like a prick, he winks at you. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You physically cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes and you hear him laugh to himself as you walkdown his hall. “Goodbye, asshole.”

He shouts a tired-sounding ‘bye!’ when you slip your shoes on, shaking your head as you look around his apartment once more. The candle on his counter is still burning, smelling of amber moss and palo santo.

You blow it out before you leave, knowing he’ll forget.

And as you do so, you feel yourself regress. Or grow. You’re not quite sure which one.

But it makes you curse under your breath and leave his flat immediately.

There is one more universal truth you forgot to mention.

And that’s that the second you think you’re over Jamie Tartt, he comes back into your life and flips everything on its head. And it’s the only truth that’s been confirmed to you all week.

Because the second you arrive home and see that you have a text waiting for you, your heart picks up. You hate the way you get excited to see it.

I had a really good time tonight.

And the second he comes back into your life, you’re reminded that you’re not over him. Not even in the slightest. And it’s fucking debilitating.

me too.

And you know your friends are going to kill you the second you follow up with.

i’m free friday if you want to grab a drink.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #bad ideas #the one who's not a loser but THEE loser #discowrites

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delzinrowe · 4 months

Text

How do you explain a feeling? - Choso

WORD COUNT: ~2.2K WARNINGS: None. F!Reader SUMMARY: Choso's still learning to understand different human emotions, this time "love". A/N: I have no excuse for this, it's pretty much garbage, but enjoy

There was no word to describe the sheer absurdity of how Choso’s life had changed over the course of a few short weeks.

All he had known in the past was to fight for his brothers. Admittedly, his past did not hold a lot of memorable moments due to being stuck in a tiny tube and contained, sealed away from humanity.

Now that he stood on the good side of this fight, after most of the battles had been fought, he was almost displaying a childlike eagerness to learn about human traditions and customs. One subject that plagued his mind mostly were human emotions and feelings. How different people were. It showed in their vastly different reactions to certain situations, or even hardships.

Was it inappropriate to say that it fascinated him? Maybe. However, this was his home now, among humans. It was a strange feeling to be accepted, even if it was only by a handful of sorcerers who would most definitely be classified as abnormal humans either way. Accepted nonetheless.

Among all these new sensations, lessons, experiences, and situations he found himself confronted with, there was a particularly enchanting one; Y/N.

Whenever the female sorcerer was around there was a certain feeling of warmth in his chest. Something he could not quite describe, much less understand. It was odd, really. He didn’t feel it with anyone else, only her.

At times when he wasn’t attentive she would sneak up on him, and after successfully scaring the bejesus out of him she would let out this heartfelt laugh. Maybe it was only a chuckle, maybe it was a giggle. All he knew was that the sound of it was just about the most welcoming sound he had ever heard. Except for when his name would drop from her lips.

Sometimes Yuji would shoot him a gaze that Choso couldn’t read, with raised eyebrows, a slightly tilted head and a smirk on his lips while nodding towards her. But the half-human being was left puzzled whenever he received this particular gaze from his little brother. Couldn’t he just tell him with words what he wanted to say? Why did humans feel the need to make it all complicated by using body language which no rational thinking being would be capable of decoding?

Yuji’s non-verbal messages had him guessing more than the feeling in his chest whenever Y/N was near. And ultimately, Choso decided to confront his little brother about this strange thing he did. He loved his brother and he would fight for him to the death, but for fuck’s sake, he needed clear words to understand whatever the hell he wanted to tell him.

———

It only took the half-curse half-human being around half an hour to find Yuji and as he approached his little brother he was glad that no one else was around. However, before Choso even had the chance to say a single word Yuji already spoke up.

“Hey Choso, how are things going with Y/N?”, once again he had this confusing expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised but his lips curled into a smile. The tone he used made it all the more difficult for Choso to understand his little brother. “Just what do you mean?” Even without this choice of words Choso’s tone of voice made it quite clearjust how confused he seemed.

“Oh come on, I can see how you look at her and how you blush. You like her, it’s obvious.”, Yuji stated his reply, much to Choso’s horror.

It took the older one more than just a minute to process everything, his face mimicking a grimace now. Was that the strange feeling? Was it really possibly that it was of romantic nature? The thought never crossed his mind. It seemed way too absurd, after all he was a half-curse half-human being. He didn’t even know that he could feel anything like that.

Yuji must have seen on Choso’s face how the wheels started turning inside his head, causing the younger one to out a heartfelt laugh.

“I know I’m not the brightest, but even I noticed how whipped you seem for her.”

Choso could only guess the meaning of the word ‘whipped’, although that wasn’t his main focus at this point.

He barely had a chance to even think of his words when Yuji already spoke up again.

“Listen, you’re half-human, you’re capable of love. Right now I think that’s exactly what you are feeling. If you want my advice, go and tell her.” Wasn’t it ironic how the little brother gave such a mature commentary and even offered advice when it should have been the other way around? As the eldest of the death paintings Choso always felt responsible for taking the lead and offering advice. However, the topic of love was never brought up. For who would ever love a curse?

A pat on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts and his gaze lifted towards Yuji. He watched his little brother give him a thumbs up and eventually walking away.

No amount of thoughts could have prepared him for the conversation he just had. Love? It was a word he wasn’t familiar with, at least not the romantic kind. The only form of love he ever felt was the one towards his brothers. But that was nowhere near as intense as what he felt when Y/N was around. Maybe Yuji was right? Was he truly capable of this type of love? And even if he was… what did that mean? What was he supposed to do now?

‘Tell her.’ Yuji’s words rang in his ears, repeating in his mind like a command he wasn’t sure he could follow. Choso was prone to overthink certain scenarios, with this being a major cause for overthinking.

———

Even hours after his conversation with Yuji Choso couldn’t think about anything else than his little brother’s words. He needed to do something about all of this, right now. If that required him to talk to Y/N then he’d do that. Anything to finally clear up that foggy chaos in his mind.

It didn’t take him long to find Y/N. As usual she’d be around the training grounds, sitting somewhere at the side while observing the younger ones during their training. But this time there was no one fighting or trying out new weapons. Besides her, the training grounds were empty.

“What are you doing here alone?”, Choso’s sudden question almost made Y/N jump. What an embarrassing thought to admit that she was lost in thoughts and didn’t hear his heavy steps…

“Nothing really, just thinking.” She didn’t bother to look up at him as she responded, knowing fully well that he would eventually sit down next to her like he had done so many times before.

Although this time she seemed to wait in vain when Choso simply kept standing close to her. He didn’t even approach her. Was something wrong? Had she accidentally offended him in any way?

“What is love?” The question had caught her entirely off guard, even causing her eyes to widen before she furrowed them and looked at him puzzled. “What is *love*? Why that’s a damn random.”

“My apologies if I-”, Was it a bad question? Should he have waited for a better time? Either way, Choso’s apology was quickly interrupted.

“No, no. It’s alright.” Her gaze returned to a soft smile. With a tilted head she examined his features. “Are you asking for a specific reason or do you just want a general understanding of the human emotion called love?”

The way she looked at him, her voice almost gentle as she asked. How come she was so kind to him? The only good thing he ever did was side with Yuji. There was no reason for her to be so understanding and accepting of him, but there she was, trying to make sense of something other people would have just laughed at.

There it was again… this warm feeling in his chest. Something he just couldn’t quite describe. For a moment too long Choso got lost in his own thoughts before he remembered that he still had to answer her question. “A general understanding.”

A hum was all she responded with. His gaze lowered towards her as if he had tunnel vision. Everything around him was suddenly drown out. The rustling of the trees that surrounded the training grounds, the birds chirping away on some branches not too far away, the river nearby gurgling with fresh water. It all seemed muted, all he could focus on in this moment was Y/N.

“Well, I don’t speak for everyone but to me love is the warmest sensation I ever experienced. When you walk into a warm room after spending hours outside, and your fingers get those tingly feelings. Do you know what I mean? Iin the most positive way, it’s like that for me. Only a thousand times stronger.”

She wasn’t really sure what kind of answer to give him, or what exactly he wanted to know about love, all she knew was what she felt. Hopefully describing this would be helpful.

“Love can be everywhere, between family, friends and partners. But since you have brothers I guess you know the platonic kind of love anyways.” A warm smile was sent his way as she tilted her head once more. He still stood next to her, not having moved at all.

“But the romantic kind of love… That’s entirely different. For me personally, it’s when I can’t stop thinking of someone all day despite them being close by. Or when I catch myself missing them but it’s only been a minute since I saw them. It’s when the mere mention or thought of them makes me smile so brightly that I forget all my worries.”

Choso took in every single word she said. He figurtivaly hung on her lips like a dried leaf refusing to part from tree branch in late autumn. Did she always smile at him this way? Were her eyes always sparkling when the sun shone on it?

“Love is genuine happiness, it’s wanting to be with someone and being willing to do anything it takes to make that person happy. There are a lot more words and ways to describe it, but with the way you’re staring at me I think I’m failing pretty miserably.” Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle with the way he had been looking at her. She couldn’t read his gaze, all she knew was that the intensity of it was almost enough to cause her chest to tighten.

“You didn’t fail at all. I think I understand.” Choso’s remark was short but enough to intrigue her, eliciting another soft chuckle as she stood up to be closer to his eyes.

“Then what’s love to you?”, she asked with a quiet hum at the end of her words, her smile still evident but having dwindled by a bit.

Within a second his mind went completely blank. There was a peculiar sound in his ears, it sounded like drumming. Was that his heart? Did it actually beat as loud as it sounded to him? For a second he thought it would jump out of his ribcage.

“You.” There it was, his one word answer, dropping from his lips so casually, yet it left a burning sensation on his lips. But he felt the need to clarify as soon as he saw her widened eyes.

“I love you.”

Choso had seen some romance movies with Yuji before. He knew how these thoughts were supposed to happen on the screen. What he didn’t know was how to react when Y/N didn’t respond.

Seconds passed until she finally sucked in a deep breath, letting it go in a sigh only moments later. When the corners of her lips lifted into a smile he felt a weight fall off his chest. This had to be a good sign. She was smiling at him. The possibility of a heartbreak didn’t even cross his mind. When he focused on her smile nothing bad would ever come to his mind.

“I love you too.” Was it a bit early to say these words? Surely, but she knew that she had been crushing hard on Choso ever since he joined their side. He had always had such a gentle nature to him, despite being a half-curse. In some ways, she thought he was probably the most gentle soul she ever met.

Y/N felt an overwhelming urge to be close to him, but even after confessing their feelings she felt somewhat too insecure to initiate anything. Or perhaps it was exactly because of it that she felt shy.

Choso on the other hand didn’t think twice about his actions. An overwhelming sense of happiness surged through him. He remembered the phrase “having butterflies in your stomach”, it felt fitting but he was still bewildered by the metaphor. Nonetheless, he wasted no time wrapping his arms around Y/N and engulfing her in what was definitely the tightest hug they had ever shared.

He remembered how he choose the life as curses with his brothers, when he convinced himself it was due to his brothers not being accepted by humans. But right now he was eternally thankful that he followed Yuji into a life among humans and sorcerers. This life that was filled with new friends, new sensations, new emotions.

A life he was determined to live to the fullest, with her by his side.

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thefallennightmare · 6 months

Text

Just Pretend-fifteen

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: it so mf late and I have to work tomorrow. so y'all better enjoy my loves!

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken

READER

My heart hammered in my chest as I took the next right, the familiar neighborhood coming into view. I peered to my right, making sure the gift basket was still buckled in place, and the excitement of seeing him again made my stomach flutter. My flight landed less than an hour ago but instead of going straight up, I loaded up my car with all of my bags and came straight to his house. The talk with my father was still loud in my mind.

My father and I had a long talk yesterday. He could sense something was causing my inner plagues. He caught on quickly; he knew the slightest changes in my demeanor.

Oie vie, that sounds familiar.

We discussed everything that happened, from top to bottom; even the veil of intimacy- I was modest, using a simple statement of course, this was my dad. But, I couldn’t lie to him- he put his hand on my shoulder and said.

“I’m sure you think that I don’t understand what you’re going through, but I do. It’s just that sometimes, our future is dictated by what we are in our most current state, as opposed to what we want and actually need.”

We talked more after that; it was opening the curtain that was in front of my eyes. The curtain of Noah and I- the one I only peeked through this whole time. The curtain needs to open.

“What are you going to do?” He asked, pulling back from a gracious hug. We were standing in the large airport, my flight minutes away from being called.

There was a long pause as I mewled the words over my tongue.

“I don’t know,” I finally answered.

We stood together for another minute, just holding each other.

“Follow your heart, Y/N. Break the chains that bind you.” My dad held my face with both of his hands and I could see his eyes glisten.

Was he emotional? I couldn’t be sure.

We hugged again, and I laughed. “Who knew you were a poet with words like that.”

He mocks gasped. “Where the hell do you think you get from?”

“True.”

Less than a block away, my phone buzzed and as I pulled up to the stop sign, I glanced down at the new message.

Chase: sweets, we need to talk to you. Call us when you can.

My heart dropped a little, worry filling me, but I didn’t want whatever he had to talk about ruining my plans so while still stopped, I quickly typed a reply.

ME: I have pretty shitty service where I’m at. What’s up?

As I drove again, my heart began beating loudly in my chest as his house came into view, his car sitting in the driveway.

He’s home.

Pulling to a slow, I reached for my phone ready to text him but the new message from Chase gave me immediate pause; my stomach dropping straight down to the pits of my stomach.

Chase: Noah went out on a date. He’s seeing someone.

My car idled in the middle of the road as I read the message repeatedly, the words like a dagger through my chest.

No, it can’t be true. Maybe it was a mistake, a misunderstanding.

Chase: sweets??

A loud horn jarred me from my froze state and with a choked sob, I pulled over the car to the side of the road, two houses down from his.

Tears burned in the corners of my eyes but they didn’t fall. My fingers hovered over his contact, debating whether I should call him. Maybe if I told him I was coming to see him, he would explain everything.

“Coming up next on Octane,” the loud voice from the speakers made me jump, heart still beating hard in my chest as my teary eyes stared at the radio on the dashboard. “A brand new single by Virginia native band Bad Omens. Here is Nowhere To Go.”

Fuck, I almost forgot about their new song.

“Why's this always gotta happen to me? I should have known. I never fail to never learn from mistakes, still throwing stones. Blood signed we made it a pact. Yours dried out, you took it back.”

I choked on a sob as Noah’s words dug the knife deeper into my chest. Tears still pooling in my eyes but not yet falling.

“Hear me out, I'm sorry, but I'm a little less than sold. I've been around, heard all the stories you said you never told. You're used to speaking in tongues to feel like you're in control. Now you've got nowhere to run, now you've got nowhere to go.”

The emotion in Noah’s voice made me rest my head against the cool window, letting it ease away the burning warmth that spread through my skin.

“Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours. Why I never got a say, never got a choice? Tell me what's mine and tell me what's yours And why I never ever got a fucking say? Oh.”

Now the tears fell freely into my lap as my body shook with sobs, it falling silent against Noah’s strong voice, his emotion, hurt, and anger blasting through the speakers.

“Are you ready? I'm in the driver's seat now. Oh, oh.”

“Mother fucker,” I cursed myself through sobs as I smacked the steering wheel not once, not twice, but three times.

I never meant to not give him a say, I never meant to not allow him a chance, it was never the intention to blindside him; it was a shield, a mask I wore the night I left that hotel room, and clearly; one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Noah was right, I had nowhere to go. As I sat in the driver's seat, grieving over the consequences of my fearful and irrational actions, the song ended, and I sat in silence. I heard the air conditioner hum, the humming almost hid the sound of my beating and broken heart.

You did this, stupid girl.

While driving over to Noah’s, I didn’t know the outcome of what would happen as I practiced what I planned on telling him. But now, as the tears and makeup dried to my face, I knew only one thing; I fucking love Noah, and I waited too long.

Chase: Y/N, please let me know you’re okay.

With shaky hands, I clicked on Malcolm’s contact name, the ringing of the phone echoing throughout my small car.

“Buttercup, where are you?”

At hearing the sheer panic in his voice as he rushed out the words, I broke down in sobs yet again.

“I fucked up, guys,” I cried.

“No, sweets. You didn’t.” Chase sighed.

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Yes, I did! Did you not hear their song? He’s seeing someone else!”

“Why are you there, Y/N? It’s only going to hurt you,” Malcolm said.

Through blurry vision, I stared up at Noah’s house as a light upstairs turned off and I couldn't help but wonder if that was his bedroom.

“I-I don’t know. I just thought that maybe,” the words came out in a jumbled mess and I did my best to compose myself with a deep breath.

“Come home, sweets. We miss you. We can sit on the couch in front of the fire and you can tell us about how the rest of your trip went. Salem misses you, he hasn’t stopped meowing at your door.” Chase suggested.

I peered over to the gift basket on my right. It was filled with a variety of gifts I brought back for Noah with a handwritten note taped to the front; one that will go unread now.

“Okay,” I said, defeated. “I’ll be there soon.”

After hanging up with them, I let out a few shaky breaths to compose myself as I stared at myself in the mirror, wiping away the tears.

Get your shit together.

With a longing glance toward Noah's house, I quickly typed out a message to the Hollow Omens group chat before pulling a U-turn and heading back home.

Me: The new song is amazing! I’m proud of you guys! Can’t wait to hear what else you have up your sleeves.

JOLLY

As I ascended the stairs, phone in my hand, I read the thread in the Hollow Omens group chat.

Malcolm: We’re throwing a welcome back bitch party at our place Friday night for Y/N. All you have to bring is yourselves. We’ll provide everything else.

Y/N: no, no party. Please.

Chase: too bad. It’s already been decided.

Folio: fuck yea, we’ll be there! Nick and I are flying in Thursday night.

Me: We missed you, Y/N. Can’t wait to hear all about your trip.

As I was passing by Noah’s shut door, his text popped up in the chat. He returned home from hanging out with Bailey a little while ago and immediately held up in his room.

Noah: bringing my date, that cool?

Y/N: 🆒

I ran a hand over my face at how stupid Noah was being. It was one thing to ask Malcolm or Chase separately, but asking in the group chat where he knew Y/N could see was a new low. Orie was passing by the hallway so I pulled him to a stop, filling him in on what happened.

“He’s a fucking idiot,” he shook his head

Still, in front of his door, I went to knock on the door but I froze; soft music playing through the wood.

“Is he listening to Cher again?” Orie wondered with pulled brows.

“He loves Cher,” I reminded him.

“Noah is playing back time on again.”

My head snapped towards Orie to correct him. “That's TURN BACK TIME. That’s the title.”

“Oh excuse me,” he held up his hands.

“You’re lucky I was the one to correct you and not him. Noah is serious about Cher.” I snorted before knocking on the door.

The music stopped. “Come in.”

Noah spun around in his computer chair and nodded towards us. “What’s up?”

“Have you lost your mind?” Orie asked.

“What are you talking about?” Noah shook his head, confused.

“How do you go from dumb to dumber this fast?”

Now he looked towards me. “Excuse me?”

“You could have texted Chase or Malcolm to ask about bringing a date. But in the group chat where Y/N could see, why the fuck would you do that?” I questioned.

“Why not?” Noah shrugged nonchalantly.

He’s your brother. You can’t hit him.

“I don’t know if you’re trying to make her jealous or what, but if this blows up in your face,” Orie shook his head while leaning against the wall.

“It won’t, like I told you guys before, I need to at least attempt to move on,” Noah turned back towards his computer, loading up Twitch.

“Okay but, I don’t think-,” I started.

“Let it go,” Noah spoke over his shoulder, not bothering to glance my way.

“This isn’t an attempt to move on. You’re doing this on purpose and it’s messy, Noah.” I examined.

“Dude- don’t, I don’t need a lecture. It’s just casual. Bailey and I are just hanging out-that’s it,” he explained before motioning towards his door. “Can you close the door behind you?”

With a long breath, Orie and I shared a look before retreating out of his room.

READER

The sudden commotion coming from down the hall gave me pause as I stared at myself in the mirror, wondering if it was worth walking through my door to socialize. I compiled a list of excuses to use to get out of this little welcome-back party tonight but every single one Chase and Malcolm saw right through.

“My painting class ran late. I might not make it.”

Malcolm was there at 6:30 to pick me up; right on time.

“I’m on my period and the pain is terrible.”

Chase snickered. “You had your period last week.”

“Salem isn’t feeling well, I should take him to the vet.”

As Salem was doing his usual evening zoomies around the house as he played with one of his many toys that littered the floor throughout the house.

In the end, my excuses did nothing to keep me from this party tonight so much to my dismay, I forced a fake smile on my face. It wasn’t going to be easy tonight knowing that not only would Noah be here, me seeing him for the first time in almost two weeks, but also knowing he wasn’t alone.

He brought a date.

Good for him, I told myself. He deserves to be happy.

But you wanted it to be with you.

Forcing the thought to the far depths of my mind, I took a deep breath to steady myself then left my room to follow the commotion of the noise.

Holy shit.

The living room was packed with more people than I expected, music playing in the background. Besides Chase, Malcolm, Byran, Matt, and the guys of Bad Omens, there were a few unfamiliar faces.

“What happened to a small party?” I teased Malcolm as I took a cup from him and took a small sip, the alcohol burning down my throat. “Oh, shit. What the fuck is this?”

The liquorice-tasting booze lingered on my tongue long after.

“Ouzo. Brought by Jesse Cash,” Malcolm nodded behind me.

My eyes widened as I turned around, eyes immediately connected with the guitarist and clean vocalist of Erra. My heart beat faster, my inner fangirl trying hard not to break free. I’d been a fan of theirs for years.

“Holy shit,” I stammered. “I’m not shitting on your alcohol choice. It’s great.”

Jesse smiled. “I hear you’re big into Greek mythology and thought it would fit to bring a popular Greek drink.”

I raised my cup to him in thanks before taking another small sip, this time the burning eased its way down my throat.

“So, you live with Noah and Jolly?” I asked Jesse.

“Yeah with Michael and Orie,” he answered just as two other unfamiliar faces appeared on either side of him.

I recognized Orie’s name as the one who directs their music videos the other I wasn’t completely familiar with. As we exchanged hello’s, Michael informed me he’d been a friend of Noah’s for a while and was in another band. After a while when Jolly and Nick joined the group, I began telling them about my trip to Japan until I felt a burning gaze to the side of my head.

My heart broke at the sight in front of me.

Noah was leaning against the wall, a small brunette standing up against his chest as her fingers played with the beads of his rosary, twirling it in her fingers. Whatever she was trying to talk to Noah fell on deaf ears as he bore his eyes straight down to his feet. Almost as if he knew I was watching, Noah gazed up towards me and when our eyes locked, he gently pried the rosary out of his date's hands, pushing her away slightly.

I coughed, embarrassed for being caught staring, and turned towards the couch sitting next to Chase.

“Are you okay?” He asked, ice-colored eyes peering over his cup towards Noah.

“She seems nice,” I spoke low while messing with a loose strand on the ripped part of my jeans.

Chase hummed low in his chest. “She’s practically throwing herself on him in front of everyone. It’s weird.”

Playfully, I smacked his chest then finished my drink with a wince, setting the empty cup on the table in front of me just as Michael sat on the other side of me.

“So, Hollow Souls in your band?”

I nodded with a small smile. “Yeah; me, Chase, and Malcolm.”

“I listened to your first two albums but can I say how excited I am for your new stuff,” Michael leaned against the couch, resting his arm across the back of it.

“We are too. There’s a new way we want to go, musically and lyrically, that’s going to differ from how we used to be.”

We continued to chat for a long while, Chase jumping in every once in a while, until someone sat on the couch across from me, his long legs stretching out to brush against my calf. Noah gave me a small smile.

“Hi,” he said.

I forced my best smile, ignoring the girl who sat next to him with her hand on his thigh.

“Hey.”

“You look good,” Noah nodded towards me. “Have a good trip?”

“Yeah. I love my dad and had a lot of fun but I was ready to come home.”

Noah's eyes glinted. “Missed us?”

I shrugged while crossing my legs over at the ankles as I leaned back against Chase. “I missed Chase terribly. I don’t know how I went on without him after he left.”

A rouse of laughter echoed throughout the living room but the girl next to Noah watched with curious eyes.

“Hi, I’m Bailey,” She sat forward while extending her hand towards me. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. I’m a huge fan. ”

Noah and my intense gaze never broke until the hand shook in front of me again, almost reminding me to shake it. Breaking away reluctantly, I smiled at Bailey.

“Oh, hi. Nice to meet you as well,” I carefully shook her hand.

The burning gaze drilled into me as I let go of Bailey’s hand, subconsciously rubbing my palm on my thigh. Noah watched the two of us with intense eyes, darting back and forth with such speed.

“This guy talks a lot about you,” Bailey squeezed Noah’s thigh, making him stiffen.

I cleared my throat, blood draining from my face. “H-he does?”

She nodded with a smile. “Noah is a huge fan of Hollow Souls. I saw you guys on this last tour and needless to say, I was jealous that I couldn’t see him fill in with you guys those last few nights. I bet it was amazing performing together, having Noah’s great vocals with you. I mean, not saying yours are bad. But Trey’s always overshadowed it with his lyrics.”

My shoulders went rigid for two reasons; Trey and his lyrics.

Chase clicked his tongue before drowning down the rest of his drink. Malcolm, who stood behind the couch, reached over and squeezed my shoulder, knowing how deep I was about to go with this conversation.

“I write all the lyrics for Hollow Souls,” I informed Bailey.

Her eyes widened, still not removing her hand from Noah’s thigh. “I didn’t-. I read things online that said it was all Trey.”

I bit my lip, knowing that it wasn't her fault and she shouldn’t face my wrath. But it could have been because Trey was still such a sore subject for me or the fact that her hand was now grazing up and down on Noah’s thigh. Dr. Poulos told me I was running, and even Noah told me subliminally I was running. They were right and now look where it got me. Me, staring at another woman touching what was rightfully mine.

It didn’t work because the words slipped through my lips before I could stop them.

“Do you believe everything you read online?” I raised a teasing brow.

The tension in the room was thick, something everyone but this poor girl picked up on.

“No. I’m really sorry if I offended you, Y/N. It wasn’t my intention. I’ve just been a fan for years and always thought Trey wrote the songs,” Bailey said.

My jaw clenched but before I could retort, my phone rang, silencing all my words.

“Hello?” I sighed into it.

“Hi dear. Why so somber?”

My face broke out in a large smile at hearing my dad's voice. “Hi, dad. How are you?”

“Good, just got back from a run and wanted to check in.”

Malcolm smacked my shoulder. “Put it on speaker. I want to say hi.”

Rolling my eyes, I clicked the speaker button. “Dad, Malcolm wants to say hi.”

As the two of them talked, I dared a glance over to Noah and Bailey, and my stomach drop at the sigh; they were having their own deep conversation, her hand still resting against his thigh. Blinking away the tears that stung, I let out a shaky breath as my dad’s voice caught my attention.

“Dear, how did things go with what’s his name? Did you tell him the truth? Oh fuck, I can’t remember his name. OH! No-?”

Quickly taking the call off the speaker, I jumped from the couch and darted into the kitchen.

NOAH

Everyone tensed as Y/N scurried out of the room with her phone pressed to her ear. Even though Bailey was rambling my ear off about some topic I wasn’t paying attention too, I missed why Y/N abruptly left the room.

“Where’s she going?” I nodded toward the spot where Y/N previously sat.

Nick cleared his throat. “Her dad was calling to check in.”

“Why are you just sitting and zoning out then?” Bailey giggled. “What’s with the tension?”

Jolly shook his head with a smile. “There’s no tension. We’re all trying to figure out what song to listen to. Any requests?”

Something wasn’t adding up so after excusing myself to grab another drink, Bailey’s hand finally detached from my thigh. As I walked into the kitchen, I noticed Y/N was leaning against the counter, back to me and phone pressed to her ears. Her eyes were pinched closed by her fingers.

“No Dad, just leave it alone…. She seems nice, I can’t do that to him, it was a silly thing to even consider.”

My brows furrowed as my heart beat rapidly in my chest, wondering who she was talking about. I shouldn't eavesdrop, the gods know how much I hate that shit, but I couldn’t move. My feet were frozen in place as I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets.

“Look it’s not worth it now. I waited too long.”

Waited too long? For what?

Y/N talked for another minute then hung up with a sad sigh, slowly turning around with a shocked expression as she noticed me standing there.

“Noah! Hey! How long have you been standing there?” She shifted on her feet.

“Just walked by,” I lied. “I needed another beer. Everything alright with your dad?”

“Oh yeah, totally.”

We stood there in an awkward silence; something that wasn’t common between us.

“What’s that?” I wondered while pointing behind her.

Y/N raised a brow as she peered over her shoulder to the dining room and let out a small chuckle; my heart coming to life at the sound.

“Chase’s fish tank. The thing is fucking huge and why does it need to be seen through, I don’t know. But it’s his hobby and I’m not one to make fun of someone's hobby,” she said while walking over to the large fish tank.

It was one of those that you could look through and see whatever or whoever was standing onto the other side. A variety of colors, sizes, and kinds of fish swam slowly back and forth. In the awkward silence, I stared at the mustache of the catfish my eyes gliding over the tank, looking at it instead of her. Peering back at me was a pair of the most exquisitely beautiful pair of eyes.

Those angelic eyes. I accidentally pushed my face closer to the glass, she chuckled a little. We were still silent, not sure what to say exactly. She was ethereal, truly, on the other side of the tank. We now realize it was just the two of us at this moment. It was then that I noticed the large basket on the table behind her; a piece of paper with my name tapped to the front.

“Is that for me?” I asked while standing straight.

Y/N followed my gaze, staring at the basket for a long moment before snatching the paper off of it.

“Yea. Just a few things you wanted me to bring back for you.”

Her eyes never met mind as she fiddled with the paper between her fingers. I never got the chance to ask what was so important about that flimsy paper because Bailey’s voice called out for me.

“Noah! Can you grab me a beer on your way back?”

JESSE

I had to admit, privately in the corners of myself of course- Y/N was absolutely stunning. Even I couldn’t deny that. The first few minutes of speaking with her, she definitely had an allure. I could see why Noah was so captivated at first.

But to say I was perplexed was an understatement.

I knew my friend; I knew his little quirks, habits, his way around words, and lack thereof. He knew how to get off scot easy. I observed Noah and Y/N, the awkward moments that only selected of us knew.

Fuck.

The elephant was only getting larger with one passing moment. I wanted to get up and start yelling “Cut the shit! You love each other!”

I hated this mess that was sitting on the left of me.

Noah’s actions were almost mirroring hers. It was painful to watch. The twitching, the shifting of eyes, the touching of hair. Noah’s hair was so long- he would touch the strands and twirl it and when she laughed too hard with Michael, I almost thought Noah was going to rip out a strand.

A few other things I noticed? Bailey filled up her drink twice. Y/n watched her like a hawk, and Noah watched her watch Bailey.

What a fucking hellhound of a night.

Bailey was a nice girl, but even I could see her head was too blown up into Noah land to realize she was a mere plot device, a way of distraction from the one across from her. Poor naïve thing.

Not being able to take it anymore I glanced at Noah intensely, taking off my glasses. He looked back; he knew what I was getting at. I shook my head, direction to the hallway “

We need to talk my eyes said.

Noah sighed before slipping away from Bailey, who was staring down at the contents of her drink, body swaying slightly. But when she noticed Noah was leaving, she grazed his back while he did. Noah froze for a moment before shrugged his shoulders, her touch falling from his back.

I quickly looked to Y/N and realized she was watching the two of them over the rim of her cup, usual bright eyes dulled from the alcohol and the sight of Noah with someone else. He never left her vision- even if she thought he did. And she was the same. That shrug was small, but it did its job.

Once out of earshot, I crossed my arm over my chest. “Noah-.”

“Jesse,” he cut me off with my name. “I can’t deal with any more bullshit lectures tonight. Seriously, I’m a grown man.”

“Are you?” I raised a brow while pointing back to the living room. “Because the shit is extremely uncomfortable for all of us. You’re acting like some teen throwing a toy around, waiting for a reaction.”

“That’s fucked up,” Noah’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, am I wrong?” I shot back.

He sighed and I could tell he was tired of it. He was tired of the constant telling him what to do, and what to say; from all of us, but he was so fucking stubborn. Noah had to have been one of the most intense friends I’ve ever encountered. I love him, but, this was even breaking me down mentally.

All I wanted was for my friend, and my new friend to wake the fuck up.

“Look dude,” I sighed while running a hand over my chin. “I won’t say anything. But this is just uncomfortable, please understand that?”

“I do, but it doesn’t have to be. I’m trying to test the waters. I’m sorry for dragging you all into this.”

I patted his shoulder. “We’re here for you man, we know what this is doing to you. We know Baley isn’t where your head’s at. But I have to ask; you already know about Y/N’s condition and why she walked away. What’s the point of this?”

Noah rested his hands on his hips as he stared down at his feet before lifting to meet my gaze. “She won’t talk to me. I mean Y/N talks to me- but she won’t let me in. She doesn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. And that fucking hurts, Jesse.”

“This isn’t it brother, come on, you’re better than this,” I tried to reason.

“Am I?”

My shoulders fell at the Scorpio's stubbornness. “Yeah, you are and Y/N knows that. She’s distraught out there, Noah.”

“I just need her to tell me herself,” Noah opened his arms wide to the side before they fell, slapping his thighs. The sound bounced off the walls of the hallway. “I need her to need me.”

With a deep sigh, I eventually nodded before wrapping an arm around his shoulder, leading us back into the living room where Noah’s eyes immediately caught Michael and Y/N standing far off in the corner of the room, talking amongst themselves.

It was about to be a fucking zoo soon.

NOAH

I stared at the floor, my shoes, and anywhere that was avoidant to her gaze. I was avoidant of the woman in front of me. She was throwing herself at me, that much I could tell. Angel looked so beautiful, it’s all I could think of. Her beauty was unparalleled, it couldn’t be outshined by anyone.

She was glowing; the trip did wonders for her, and I was happy to see it. I wasn't, however, happy with the situation I was in, Bailey on my left- that was one thing. Michael was telling Y/N a joke, something about Japanese mice, I couldn’t fucking tell.

I was counting to 10, something my therapist, Dr. Poulos suggested I do when I find myself in situations I can't control.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” I grumbled into the rim of my beer bottle.

“I didn’t say anything funny,” Bailey answered.

A low noise rumbled in my chest as I continued to watch Michael and Y/N. I wasn’t worried about Michael- so why my jaw clenched and my tongue kept moving I wasn’t sure.

No, I fucking knew. I wanted to stand across from her, encasing around her space. I wanted to be the one who told Y/N jokes.

I began twisting my hair with my fingers-a strand was sure to snap off if it didn’t already.

Michael chuckled while glancing at me, noticing my twisted expression. My beer was tight in my hands, I kept fiddling with the paper on the bottle; a distraction is what I kept running into- always a fucking distraction.

Michael lifted his arm to cough into it, a silent way of telling me he knew I knew.

It was innocent; I wasn’t even mad at him. I just yearned for the comfort of Y/N’s laughter directed at me. Bailey chuckled at something I said a little ago but it did nothing- not even an artery moved. I only felt one emotion; guilt.

I stood there thinking it didn’t matter. Y/N was the one I wanted, all I ever wanted but knew I need a fucking miracle.

“Oh, fuck yes!” Malcolm cheered while reading something on his phone, catching all of our attention. “My House is being released tomorrow!”

“Shut the fuck up, really?” Y/N quickly left Michael's side to jump over the couch in between Chase and Malcolm.

I couldn’t help but smile seeing Michael standing there alone.

“I thought the label wanted to wait at least another month,” Chase said.

Malcolm shrugged. “The email said that with the successes of Bad Omens new single, they wanted Hollow Souls to release one.”

“You’re welcome,” Folio raised his beer in the air.

“My House?” Bailey said. “I’m stoked you have a song ready to be released out into the wild already. Damn! What are the chances you and Noah’s band have songs out during the same time, it’s like you wrote it at the same time or something.”

Everyone in the room, besides Bailey, shifted uncomfortably, and I finished my beer in two long gulps.

“I like the title,” I said.

Y/N gave me a curt smile before giving her attention back to Malcolm, who had his phone poised ready to record a video.

“Hey everyone, it’s Malcolm from Hollow Souls. I’m here with some friends.”

He peered the phone towards Chase, who threw up a peace sign, then to Y/N who gave a small wave. “Hi! We just wanted to come on Instagram to let you all know that our new single My House will be released tomorrow night. It’s going to be different from things we’ve released in the past but we’re still so excited for you all to hear it!”

Chase was next to pull out his phone before Y/N’s electric voice began playing through the speaker.

I feel you in these walls. You're a cold air creeping in. Chill me to my bones and skinI heard you down the hall but it's vacant when I'm looking in. Who let you in?

Shit. My entire body and essence became electric upon hearing the new vocal range from Y/N. The rawness of her voice told us everything we needed to know.

“Alright, that’s all the sneak peek you guys get. Listen, tomorrow on Octane at eight to hear the whole thing,” Chase pointed to the screen.

Once they finished their video for Instagram, Bailey was on them before they even had the chance.

“I love the lyrics, Y/N. What’s the meaning behind them?”

I gently grabbed her hand, already having a feeling I knew what this new song was about. “They probably don’t want an interview right now, Bailey.”

“No,” Y/N spoke with confidence. “It’s fine. The song is about taking your life back. When something is toxic and hurting you, you need to let go of it, no matter how hard that can be. Almost like you’re not trapped under that person’s gaze anymore when they judge you when they tell you what you want or what you can and can’t do. It’s about kicking them out. I had help, but it’s been freeing.”

She rested her head against Malcolm's shoulder while linking fingers with Chase.

My eyes immediately locked with hers as I took a deep inhale and then a low exhale. You could almost hear a pin drop it was that quiet.

“Fuck, that’s so good, Y/N! I’m happy for you.”

My hands shook at my sides as Jolly turned his attention towards me, sporting his typical Dad Omens expression.

“Told you,” he mouthed.

Pushing off of the wall, I stalked into the kitchen for another beer; my third one in the last 3 hours. However, I walked right past the fridge to grip the sink, letting my head fall as I let out a shaky breath.

You’re such a dumbass. Always overthinking shit that has nothing to do with you.

I screwed my eyes shut tight, forcing the thoughts out of my mind before they burrowed themselves deep.

Soft footsteps echoed behind me as I felt her familiar presence at my back. “She’s really sweet.”

My face jerked as I winced, still facing the cabinet so she couldn’t see my face. The guilt for once again overthinking a situation that could have easily been fixed with a simple conversation.

“Yeah, she’s okay,” I admitted.

I sucked in a breath as I turned to face her, realizing how close she was. The familiar pull of the string that bound our hearts together glowed brightly. I felt it pulsating deep within my chest.

“Just okay? Where’d you meet her?” She wondered.

I cleared my throat. “The record shop.”

Y/N hummed while gazing up at me through lashes and I hoped she couldn’t hear how loud my heart paced against its cage in my chest.

“What did you think of Nowhere To Go?” I asked in a low voice, fingers itching to reach for her to pull her close, closing the last little of bit empty space between us.

Her jaw ticked, something I noticed right away. “It was fantastic.”

I raised a brow, testing the waters because I wanted to know how she truly felt. “Yeah?”

Y/N’s fingers played with the end of my rosary necklace and I shuddered a breath, not daring to let her know how bad her presence was affecting me.

“Noah, I need to-.”

“Y/N! Salem got stuck in the closet again!” Chase called from the living room causing her to jump back in surprise.

“Uh, shit. I should go,” She threw a thumb over a shoulder, a red hue covering her face.

I nodded. “Ye-yea. Sure.”

There was only one thing on my mind as I watched her retreat into the living room.

What the fuck was she going to say?

NOAH

We all piled into the studio, waiting patiently for eight pm. Orie, Michael, and Jolly were taking up space on the couch in the room while both Nicks sat on the floor, playing some card game. I was too preoccupied to care. Jesse sat with me at the computer, watching me as I almost counted down the minutes. My knee bounced with anticipation. We spent the entire day recording our next song, hoping to have it released within the next few months. My phone blew up with texts from Bailey but I ignored each one of them, not wanting the distraction.

Jesse smirked while eating a bag of chips. “Excited?”

I threw him a sideways glance. “Fuck off. Feelings aside for her, this is big for Hollow Souls. It's their first song without what’s his face. It could make or break them, but we know it’ll fucking make them.

“Shit, Noah!” Nick all but yelled. “It’s eight! Turn it on.”

Quickly turning to Octane, we heard the DJ’s voice blare through the speakers in the room.

“Alright, are you guys ready for some new music? This comes from LA’s own Hollow Souls; which became a three some recently. A lot of fans were upset with the departure of Trey but unlike those fans, I’m fucking stoked to hear this new direction they’re going. Here is My House!”

“I feel you in these walls. You're a cold air creeping in. Chill me to my bones and skin. I heard you down the hall. But it's vacant when I'm looking in. Who let you in?

Once again, Y/N’s voice brought chills all over my body and I leaned forward to rest my elbow on the desk in front of me.

“Never thought that I would feel like this. Such a mess when I'm in your presence. I've had enough, I think you've been making me sick. Gotta get you out of my system. It's my house and I think it's time to get out. It's my soul. It isn't yours anymore. It's my house and I think it's time to get out. Yeah, I think it's time to get out.”

I danced in my seat to the music; the drums resonating deep in my bones. I knew Hollow Souls were worried about the change in the band, instrumental-wise since Y/N was taking guitar lessons from their guitar tech. But since she wasn't quite ready for the release of this song, their guitar tech filled in. Regardless, it was fucking perfect.

“You walk around I can hear your pace. Circling my bed frame. Now we're face to face. Head on my pillowcase. But darling, you can't stay.”

“Don’t even try to overthink that line, Noah!” Jolly spoke from behind me. “It’s clearly about Trey.”

I flipped him the middle finger, not letting his words wipe the proud smile off my face.

“Haven't you heard? I'm not yours anymore. I'm not yours anymore. It's my soul, and I think it's time to get out. Haven't you heard? I'm not yours anymore. I'm not yours anymore. It’s my house.”

“That’s my angel,” I rested my chin in my palm, still sporting the brightest and widest smile.

I was so engrossed at the end of the song that I didn’t catch the shared look between Jolly and Jesse, them each sporting their own smiles.

My fingers worked fast to type out the new message.

ME: Hey, that song is great! angel, see!? What the hell were you even worried about. You are the heart of the band, I knew you and the guys would kill it!

Y/N's response was almost immediate, and I couldn't help but wonder if she was waiting for me to text her.

Angel 🪽: Thank you, mochi. That means a lot coming from you. 🖤

ME: Always.

For the next few minutes, I chatted with the guys as we thought about ways to make our next single a step head of Nowhere To Go. But I couldn't stop staring at my phone, needing to talk to her again.

ME: Hey again

Angel 🪽: lol hi again.

ME: Just really wanted to say I’m proud of you, Angel. I’m glad I saw you last night.

Angel 🪽: Thank you, mochi. Again! Truly. Always a pleasure seeing your face.

I stared at that reply for what felt like minutes. She was tiptoeing around me, and this time it was my fault. I think I’m fucking this up.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #enemies to lovers #right person wrong time #starcrossed lovers

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baldurs-simp · 8 months

Note

Gortash fall in love with the most kind, caring, silly and bold Tav. A Tav he thinks is easy to manipulate, but ultimately, she manipulates him - in a certain way. An artificer Tav to add some more spice (?)

I love Gortash at the moment, so with pleasure!

Masterlist

A loud boom shakes the manor, unsettling the dust in the rafters, telling everyone exactly what happened without the need to investigate. Everyone already knows that their lord, Enter Gortash, will already be on his way to the source of the explosion before the dust even settles again.

You're still fanning the smoke away with your hand, coughing loudly as you try to blink away the tears welling up in your eyes from the smoke. "What in the hells have you done this time?"

You turn your head towards your laboratory door that has blown open from the blast, and you can faintly make out the figure od your lover, Gortash.

"Dabbling in black powder. I may have used a bit much this time," you mention, immediately turning to your notebook on the table to scribble something down, still muttering to yourself. "Perhaps half of the quantity next time. Or a quarter?"

"If you continue like this, you'll bring down the manor before the year is up," Gortash says, tentatively stepping into the room but still carrying himself with immense confidence. "I didn't allow you to stay here just to destroy my home with your...experiments, did I?"

But it's as if you don't hear his words. You're still mumbling to yourself, noting down things on parchment pieces in a chaotic way that Gortash can't understand how you know where anything is.

He calls your name, but you only hum a response, still now paying attention to him. He has to speak your language, so to say, if he wants your attention. "What exactly is it that you are working on?"

The question makes your whip around with a bright smile on your face, glee in your eyes as you beacon him closer. "It's a firearm," you say, turning your gaze to the mangled piece of metalwork on the table. "I've read about them. They're like a ship's cannon, but smaller so you can hold it in your hand. Like a crossbow or shortbow, but less big and without the clanky ammunition that gets stuck on everything. It'll be more convenient and deadly if I get it right. But I'm working on infusing them with some magical elements, too. Like a 'fire' firearm that shoots fire pellets, or an 'ice' firearm-"

"You're rambling, darling," he cuts you off, smirking at your when you bite your lip in embarrassment. "I thought our arrangement was that you work on the weapons we already have, improving my military defense. Not trying to invent some new nonsense."

"But I've done all that and more. It's hard to improve on something that's already great," you say, pouting at him as you fold your arms across your chest. "I'm bored with swords and arrows. Don't you want to be known for something new? Something that no one else has?"

Gortash sighs, dropping his head between his shoulders as he shakes it in defeat. He thought that he had you under his thumb, but every day, he feels that it is the other way around. And yet, he will still give you all that you ask.

You ask him to give you the entrie city for your experiments and he would.

"Very well. But you know I expect nothing but excellence for this," he says, waving his hand at whatever it is that lays on the table in a mangled mess.

You giggle in glee, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as a thank you. "I know. And you know that I never let anything leave this room until I am completely satisfied with it."

He hums as you step away from him, picking up the contraption to inspect the damage as you right a chair that has been blown over. "Oh, I need more black powder."

"More? Do you have any idea how tedious it is to find? Not to mention how much it costs."

Your eyes meet his, hoping that he will do what you ask without you having to beg for it. But he doesn't budge.

Sighing, you slowly stand up with your head hanging low and your gaze on the floor. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to find someone else who will want to help me if you do not care about me. Clearly, you do not wish to see me thrive in my craft."

You make as if to start packing up your things, making sure not to make eye contact with Gortash. As you try to walk past him, he wraps an arm around your waist, swiping you closer to pin him to his body.

"You will do no such thing, little Artificer," he growls, staring down into your eyes, making sure that you do not look away. "You will leave of I say leave and if I say you will stay, then you will stay. Do you understand?"

"Oh, big, mean Gortash, giving orders to someone that could blow him up with a simple stumble," you say, smiling up at him as you playfully wrap your arms around his neck. "What exactly would you do to me should I defy your orders?"

"Terrible things."

His quick response tells you that he doesn't have a clue what exactly he would do if you went against his orders. It makes you smile and slowly pull out of his hold around you.

"Then, I should get back to work. And you should leave. I do not wish for you to get hurt in my workshop," you say, giving him a light shove towards your door as an instruction to leave.

"Will you be dining with me tonight?"

"If you leave now, then I shall, my love."

Gortash finds himself beaming at the pet name you have used for him and your acceptance for eating with him tonight again. He smiles to himself, not caring that he might be falling in love with you. For with you by his side, you two could be the most powerful couple in the land.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gortash #enver gortash #enver gortash x reader #baldur's gate 3 #request #reqs open

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nikoruistyping · 1 year

Text

Our Love Language || Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Summary: It’s your first time spending Valentines day with your boyfriend, Spencer and just when you thought all was lost he surprises you in more way than one...

TW: Small bit of Fluff, Lots of Smut, Adult Language/Swearing, Dirty Talk, Kissing/Making Out, Fingering (Kinda), Vanilla Vaginal/Office/Desk Sex, Oral Sex (Fem Receiving), Praise Kink, Nudity, Playful Banter/Jokes, Established Relationship, Aftercare, Mention of Valentines Day, Gushy “I love you’s”

Word Count: 4,805

A/N: HAPPY BELATED VALENTINES DAY FOLKS! I hope you enjoy and this little one shot is especially dedicated to my bestie who is obsessed with our boy Spencer Reid so I hope you enjoy babes and that everyone else does as well! Also this took me almost 3 days to write and proof and Im sure there is a bunch of mistakes still so I will go in and fix later since work and personal life has been crazy recently.

Physical touch, Quality time, Receiving gifts, Acts of service, Words of affirmation

It was the one day of the year you actually hated with a passion because the thought of it made your blood boil. Another holiday for people to make money off of and take advantage of all the loving couples who wanted to do many something a little extra special for their significant other. It was annoying having to see so many happy couples going around doing all the stuff you wanted to do but at the end of the day, you would go retreat to your fuzzy blanket and turn on Netflix with a bowl of ice cream in hand. Well at least that's how you used to spend Valentine's day but this year would be different from the rest because it was your first time actually being able to celebrate not alone but with your boyfriend Spencer.

You had an extra pep in your step the whole day and as you got off the subway from a long day at work you were looking forward to whatever surprise or possibly more than one surprise he would have for you waiting at home. It was eating you alive trying to guess or more so make up little scenarios in your mind about how just exactly what would the night entail. Would he go the more romantic route? Dozens of roses and a home-cooked meal? Would he get down and dirty from the get-go? Doing tons of explicit things to you the minute you stepped into the doorway? Just the sheer thought of it made you bite your lip, your steps getting faster in anticipation.

Before you could even pull your keys out of your pocket you get a phone call from Spencer and you quickly smile at the picture you had set as his contact photo, clearly something so silly and embarrassing but it reminded you of how much of a goofball he could be sometimes. You pick up raising the phone to your ear to listen to his voice.

"Hey babe,"

"Hey Y/N, so I have some bad news..." His voice seemed to echo so loudly into the phone your heart seemed to drop.

"Bad news...what the hell do you mean?" Your brow was furrowed in confusion as you had stopped in your tracks just minutes before you could enter into your apartment building.

"I-I don't think I'm going to make it home on time," You could hear the shakiness in his voice and that he was nervous.

"You have got to be kidding me! Spencer, you know how important today is for me. It's our first time as a couple celebrating Valentine's day, are you sure there isn't anything you can do?" Your Valentine's day plans were starting to disappear before your eyes and you hated how much importance this stupid holiday had on you but you at least wanted to enjoy it once while being in a serious relationship with someone you truly loved. You tried your best to seem tame over the phone because at the end of the day, it wasn't exactly his fault.

"Don't you think I know that Y/N?! Trust me I want to be with you too right now but this case is really beating up the whole team and there are piles of paperwork to do." He deeply sighed into the phone out of exhaustion, you hated seeing him so overworked like this and you know he hasn't been sleeping well recently.

"Fine how about this...have you eaten at all today?" You ask into the phone raising an eyebrow, you were sure Spencer could already imagine the look on your face.

"Does two cups of coffee count?" He asks with a small chuckle.

"Well, that tells me all that I need to know. It's decided I'm coming over to the BAU and I'm bringing dinner for us. If you can't come to me I'll just come to you." You quickly decided after sacrificing all the perfect little plans you were imagining in your head and you started to accept the reality that you would be spending your most romantic night ever in the dim lights of the FBI's office, how exciting.

"Y/N are you sure?! You really don't have to and plus do you really want to be here bored out of your mind watching me do paperwork?"

"I've already decided and as long as I'm spending time with you that's what I really care about." You say with a small smile on your face and turn yourself around to start walking in the other direction.

"You're right, I'll see ya soon then yeah?" He asked with a grin across his face on the other side of the phone.

"I'll let you know when I get there. See you soon my love." You quickly hung up the phone blushing to yourself before he could comment on the new pet name you called him. For some reason, it felt natural to say, what other day is better fitting than today right?

1 Hour later...

Take-out bags in hand you made your way over to the front doors of the BAU office. The office from the outside seemed darker than usual and there weren't many cars in the parking lot so something was definitely off. You reluctantly swiped your visitor's badge at the front door, pushing the glass door open with your hip to hold it as you seemed to juggle the bags of food around from one hand to the next. When you turned around to look at the front desk there was a candlelit walkway leading you in exactly the direction you were supposed to follow. Immediately a smile came about your face and you eagerly followed the pathway made for you, rose petals decorated the floor leading you right to were you needed to be.

"Spencer?!" You questioned calling out to him hoping he would respond back. The darkness seemed to fill the air and you couldn't see anything in front of you other than a few office desks being dimly lit by candlelight. You cautiously took a few steps forward, footsteps echoing into space.

To no avail, you didn't get any response back so you tried your best to navigate where you knew his desk was. You could already tell it must have been his because it was the one that had fairy lights surrounding it, more rose petals decorating the small space, and a little folded-up notecard addressed to you.

You gently put down the bags of take-out food and picked up the notecard while reading it to yourself.

Y/N, I know you're probably a bit upset at me that I lied to you so you could come here. I wanted to celebrate this special day in the one place where it all started, here in the BAU office. I hope that this doesn't come off as lame or corny, it's my way of showing you how much you mean to me. Happy Valentines Day S.R You couldn't help but have the biggest grin on your face, you couldn't believe that he really went through all this trouble to make everything look so pretty for you. You really were the luckiest girl in the world at that moment.

Before you could even say another word, you felt a familiar presence standing right behind you, and hands quickly covering your vision so you couldn't see.

"Spencer is that you?" You knew it was him but hey no harm in asking.

"Hmm... the name doesn't ring a bell. Can you describe what he looks like?" His breath was hot as his lips were close to your ear.

"Oh I see-" You quickly caught on to the drift of his little game so you decided to play along.

"Well let me think and see if I can remember," You paused trying to build up the suspense.

"He has these handsome brown hazelnut-colored eyes, he's about 6'1, his hair is light brown extra fluffy sometimes curly and his lips are very and I mean very kissable. Is that a good enough description?" You answer back smirking to yourself that you were sure it made him smile hearing you say that last bit of info.

"I might have seen him around, looks like he happens to be a criminal though so I'd be careful if I were you." He almost broke his serious tone of voice with a small but audible chuckle.

"A criminal, what is he guilty of?" You ask pretending to be shocked with a fake gasp escaping your lips knowing exactly where this little joke is going but you decided to indulge him since you found it cute and endearing.

"Looks like he stole someone's heart," He states as you decide to turn around, his hands lifting up to uncover your eyes so you could finally look at him. All the feelings from when you first met flooded back, the all too familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach and cheeks flushed pink while your eyes made contact with his.

"He definitely stole mine for sure." You declare quickly pulling him closer to you, your hands immediately finding their home on the back of his neck where your fingers played with small loose strands of hair.

You smiled and leaned forward, kissing his lips softly, after such a long stressful day his lips felt like home. You let yourself become so relaxed that without even realizing you started to draw him closer, a queue for Spencer to put his hands on your waist. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him this passionately and you pressed into it, your fingers curling in his hair and lightly tugging. Your head turned to the side, your tongue sliding against his as the kiss became more intense. You let a quiet moan slip out and before you could get too carried away you pulled your lips away. Your hands reached back to his face and soothingly stroked the patchy stubble on his cheeks.

"You know you're a pretty good actor, I would have never guessed." You commented with a small giggle he just smiled right back at you.

"Let's just say it was a little white lie, it's an exception. Plus it was so worth it to see you like this right in front of me." He leaned in closer nuzzling his nose against yours as you just enjoyed the faint smell of his cologne.

"I have to say I'm impressed you were able to do all of this and with Hotch's permission?! You must have had to beg." You said with a small snicker.

"Well, what can I say, some people are worth going through a little bit of hell," He says with a smile as one of his hands goes up to cup your cheek, his hand a bit shaky and you could tell he seemed a bit nervous despite the very confidant façade he was putting on for you.

"Is everything ok Spence? You're shaking," You ask concerned as you put your hand on top of his.

"I-I-um well ok- there is something important I wanted to tell you and I thought it's finally the right time to do so," He took a deep breath and you could even hear how hard he swallowed due to the deafening silence around you two.

"Y/N...I love you-" The minute he uttered those three words you couldn't help but giggle at his confession. He furrowed his brows in confusion almost a bit offended at your reaction.

"What's so funny?! You know I’m trying to confess my undying love for you and this is the thanks I get-" He was ready to protest.

"Spencer I'm not laughing at your confession. I'm laughing at the fact that you got all nervous just to tell me that? I already know that you love me but it does feel nice to hear it out loud." You say nonchalantly and you could have sworn his jaw dropped at your words.

"How did you know? I mean this makes no sense at all I made sure to keep it a secret-" He was seriously in awe at how you could have figured out something so simple it even made him scratch his head.

"Spencer it's very simple to explain, this is our love language," Your hands slid down to hold both of his and intertwine your fingers with his as you pause a moment to savor every bit of how he was so focused on listening to you.

"I'm sure you have already heard of the five types of love languages. All the things we do for each other every day are all acts of love and even though we might not say it out loud in words actions speak louder," Your fingers traced small patterns on the back of his hand as he gave you a small smile.

"Every time you tell me how beautiful I am, when you clean the whole house for me, when we cuddle watching movies together, when you come home with my favorite dessert because you know I've had a bad day and cheesecake is the only way to cure my sadness and when you hold my hand or kiss me, those are all things that reassure me that you love me. You don't have to be some big-shot FBI Behavior Analyst to see we are in love Spencer."

"Wow...you literally just blew my mind-" He utters under his breath impressed by you but mostly surprised how you really do love him and that everything he does for you and you for him, that the little things don't go unnoticed.

"I don't want to toot my own horn but I tend to do that." You flash him a little smirk.

"Then how about you show me other ways you can blow my mind some more, hmm?" Spencer hummed as he leaned in closer to whisper into your ear, his fingers reaching to push a strand of hair behind it. The look in his eyes shifted from a soft brown to now a deep ocean of brown that was filled with lust.

"I see how it is, you want to jump right to dessert?" You question in a playful tone as your hands pressed themselves against his chest, playing with the ends of his tie between your fingers.

"You know I have a sweet tooth and I want to put one of those love languages to use," He says as his hands travel to touch the sides of your neck, grazing against your skin and sliding their way down to your waist slowly twisting your hips to his will while taking a few steps forward until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

"And which love language would that be exactly Spence?" Your fingers entangled in his tie and pulled him closer while you jumped up to sit on top of his desk.

"I think you already know which one I'm talking about." He took the opportunity to nudge himself into the open space you had made by parting your legs so he could fit and be even closer.

"Then why don't you just show me already, hmm?" You hummed back as if challenging him to take action and he sure didn't waste any time.

Before you knew it Spencer was crashing his lips into yours. His kiss is a bit more aggressive than normal, the force of it tilting your body to bend back. You feel your legs go weak but his arm quickly flexes to catch you from falling completely back onto the desk. His lips coax yours open with little effort as you're hardly putting up any resistance at this point. The flavor of bitter coffee is rich on his tongue as it swipes against yours. His teeth catch your lips in bites, groans, and moans caught in one another's mouth. You could feel his hair tickling your forehead and cheeks while you adjust the tilt of your head changing the angle of the kiss to be even deeper.

A few seconds more and you both pull away from one another's lips, gasping for air. Your lips feel swollen, breathing rapid, face tinted pink. You're pleased to find Spencer was left in equally the same state, taking deep breaths, lips slick and tinted with your favorite shade of lipstick.

You decided to heat things up even more by taking action and wrapping his tie around your small nimble fingers, yanking him forward. His eyes widen in surprise briefly as his smirk falls from his face just as your lips crash into his. This time you work your tongue into his mouth. Your kisses prove to be more teasing and playful than before.

Spencer responds by wrapping his arms around you. Your free hand travels down his body, appreciating and pressing against the taut muscles and harsh lines beneath his button-down shirt. He pulls away for a moment to show attention to your neck which was in dire need of being marked by his lips and teeth. You were ashamed to admit how much you loved when he left his little mark on you, showing to everyone you were his and only his. You tilted your head back enjoying the way he softly bit into your skin and would lick over the small bruises he created. He groans into the crook of your neck as your hands travel down his body, his hips pressing into you and you could already feel his growing erection through his slacks, brushing your inner thigh through the material of your skirt which you had already taken the liberty of hiking up.

His hands coursed over your body, running along your back, grasping your shoulders, weaving into your hair, gripping your hips and tilting them towards him, his body causing yours to twist and turn in ways that only his touch could do to you. You feel a rush of adrenaline run through your veins and for some reason even though sex with Spencer was always an exhilarating experience for some reason becoming all undone on top of his desk seemed so scandalous. Dare you say it might have even been a forbidden fantasy of yours with him.

Your fingers rake through his curls cradling his head close to your neck as he slowly travels downwards, his hands pushing the lacey fabric of your blouse to the side giving him more access to your neck and collarbone. His fingers fumbled with the buttons until he lost his patience and ripped it entirely off your body until you were left in only your bra. A loud gasp left your lips at his mere strength.

"What? I hate buttons." He quickly comments pausing the assault he is currently doing to your neck.

"T-That was my favorite blouse, Spencer." You try to say in defense but who are you kidding you didn't give a damn you wanted him to keep on kissing down your body till he reached the one place you needed him most.

"I'll just buy you a new one." His voice was already raspy while continuing to place kisses on your skin, one by one the more he seemed to travel and you leaned back giving him more access.

"You're lucky that I love you enough not to care too much-" Your sentence interrupted when his fingers quickly unzipped your skirt and he flung it behind him. His lips made their way downwards kissing your thigh and down your leg, his hands delicately lifted your leg up into the air, taking off your high heels and letting them drop with a loud clack onto the floor.

He runs fingers caressing your skin as he fluttered peppered kisses back up to your inner thigh. He kneeled down on his knees to be face to face with your heat. His hands crept their way to the edges of your panties and slowly pulled them down your legs, painfully slow might you add. It made you even hotter seeing him like this, worshiping you like a goddess.

"S-Spence I really need you-" A loud moan escaped your lips when he finally touched you, he knew all the spots that drove you crazy.

"Someone sure is eager, huh?" He quipped right back while looking up at you through hooded eyelids, loving the undone expression on your face and he wasn't even working his magic yet.

"Spencer, please." You begged through heavy breaths.

He started off with long laps of his tongue, fully tasting you, all of you. He'd break away every so often showing love to your inner thighs with peppered kisses. He'd build up your pleasure and pull away before you could be fully pushed over the edge. His skillful tongue circled your clit as your moans became high-pitched. You squeezed your eyes closed and rutted your hips up against his tongue hungry for more. Your hands found his curly brown locks, guiding him to continue pleasuring you and he groaned as you pulled at the roots.

You let a slew of curse words mixed with the way you kept saying his name over and over again fly from your mouth. He liked the sounds that came from you so he thrusted his tongue inside of you.

“Have I ever told you…” another broad lick, this one faster than the last, “… that I love the way you taste?” You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat hearing the way those words come from his lips.

You’re incapable of forming words let alone a whole sentence, your body strained from the rise and fall of almost coming undone. You bite your lip and give what you hope is a nod, knowing he’s watching you from down below. He lets out a moan as he sucks on your clit and your head falls back while tugging on his hair, your legs resting on top of his shoulders as you clutch him closer locking him in that position.

"I'm so close-" You barely were able to get out as he just relentlessly continued to pleasure you with his tongue.

You came, crying out his name, you were pretty sure your moans and screams were echoing all across the office, thank god nobody was there to see or else you would have been embarrassed beyond belief. He kept licking stripes up and down your slit, lapping up your cum as your legs squeezed around his shoulders. He pulled away for a moment to take a breath, cleaning the glistening liquid from his lips with the back of his hand.

"You definitely blew more than just my mind right now." You struggled to say between heavy labored breaths while you watched Spencer get up off his knees and hastily pulling at the knot in his tie to yank it off while he somehow patiently unbuttoned his own shirt, shimming it off his shoulders.

"You better get ready to have it be blown again." His fingers quickly went to his belt buckle and undoing it just enough for his erection to pop out.

He aligned his hips with yours as you just watched him slowly bring himself closer. His cock laid flat up against the small bit of lower abs that Spencer had been working on building up, he bit his lip seeing you so unraveled and needy for him. His lips found their way back to yours, his tongue pressing up against yours making sure you could taste remnants of yourself on his lips. The way he kissed you was passionate yet rough it was like nothing you had ever experienced, maybe it was the fact that it was Valentine's day who knows but Spencer had dialed up his tactics and you weren't complaining either. Your hands had found a place to rest on his shoulders, giving you the right position to keep him close. He pressed just a bit harder into kissing you, his teeth grazing your lower lip catching it and biting it in response as he started to get desperate.

"Fuck Spencer, I need you...please..." You said practically begging at this point as you craved to have his cock inside you.

"Shit...I love you so much Y/N." He declared almost with a smug look on his face knowing exactly what he was going to do next. Your legs were already feeling like jelly but you had found enough strength to pull his hips closer.

"Then show me how much," You whispered into the close space between your bodies.

Without warning his cock filled you completely in one stroke, the head brushing against your wet slit as it entered you. You squeezed your eyes shut as his length stretched your walls. He drew his hips back and then thrust back into you. Gasps and whines fell from your lips as he fucked you. You drew arbitrary patterns on his biceps with the pads of your fingers. Your toes curled as he slammed into you over and over again. His hands gripped the desk underneath you as he struggled to steady himself with each and every thrust the faster he went in and out of you. His nose nuzzled into your neck as he struggled to hold back his groans of pleasure.

For a moment his thrusts slowed but went deeper into you as you were being fucking into oblivion on top of his desk. His hands went from having a grip on your hips trailing slowly up to holding your hand, entwining your fingers with his as he took his sweet time bringing you to your climax at a slower pace. Everything felt like it was in slow-mo as his cock stroked along your g-spot, coaxing your orgasm to come faster. You could feel your core coiling up and about to burst. You squeezed his hand even harder while your moans filled the air and his head buried into your neck littering your neck once again with lovebites dark enough to leave marks the next morning.

"Cum for me...Y/N..." He had whispered into your ear, it flushing red with each and every word he had said.

You had cursed his name under your breath as your whole core had tensed up for just a moment while you came. His hips were still thrusting into yours as you rode out your high and you could feel him release inside of you, your fingers relaxed against his as you released his hand from yours. Both of your breaths were heavy and panting. His head leaned against your shoulder while your back was arched against the desk holding the both of you up. Your legs had tightened around his waist keeping him close to you while your bodies seemed to entangle with each other, his arms quickly embracing you.

Your hands went to cradle his head close to your chest as you played with his curly locks loving how soft his hair was.

"I love you, Spencer, so so much." That was all you had the strength to say while your breathing started to even out.

"Me too-" His voice cracked still trying to catch his breath.

"The best Valentine's day I could ever ask for." Your comment seemed to echo followed by an exhausted chuckle.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it but you know I'm not done with you yet." He lifted his head to finally look you in the eyes as he disconnected your bodies letting you have a minute to fix yourself as he picked up the discarded clothing on the floor.

Your eyes still wandered while observing him get dressed as you swung your legs back and forth sitting on his desk, patiently waiting but also coming up with how you could keep the energy of tonight going for as long as possible.

"How about we eat some food first since by now I'm sure it's cold and then I can show you some more ways I can blow your mind...physically that is." You raised your eyebrows at him and he snickered to himself slowly walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"Sounds like a plan my love." He quickly kissed your lips with a grin on his face.

For the rest of the night, you two sat at his desk enjoying each other's company while you chow down on your favorite foods. Spencer went on through explaining how he really set up this whole elaborate plan to surprise you and you smiled along knowing that you were going to keep falling more and more in love with the man right in front of you. As he rambled on and on his voice started to fade into the background as you started to reflect that if every Valentine's day was going to be like this you wouldn't have it any other way and you could proudly say that your first Valentine's day was a success. You realized that didn't need a day dedicated to show how much you loved Spencer because in reality you had been doing so every day and you hoped to keep doing so for many more years to come.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminalmindsmaster #fluff #smut

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sorchathered · 4 months

Text

💕Lover💕

A/N- hey all! This is my submission for @ohtobeleah ‘s Galentine’s party!! I’m so excited to see everyone’s posts and concepts, make sure you check out the submissions under her tag!

Summary- A collection of memories and mood boards documenting you and Jake from engagement to wedding day.

Pairing- Jake Seresin x oc!reader (callsign Storm)

Warnings- language, drinking, smut.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up til January, this our place we make the rules”

It was January 5th now, you knew the chances of Jake being home for Christmas were slim but secretly you’d hoped he would be. He’d begged you not to spend the holiday alone his mother insisting you come to Texas so you’d flown out and spent two fantastic weeks with his family. They had welcomed you with open arms, taking you to all of Jake’s old haunts and involving you in their family traditions. You’d never been close to your parents so the overwhelming love you received from the Seresin family was something you’d never experienced before. You’d gotten to talk to him sporadically over the holiday but you could tell he was heartbroken he couldn’t be there with you. The time went by too fast and before you knew it the 5th had arrived and you were stepping off your plane in San Diego, Coyote was waiting to pick you up and you couldn’t wait to get home to your own bed. You’d put up a small tree with some lights before you left just to keep the seasonal depression at bay, but as you unlocked the door to your shared home you were met with what could only be described as a winter wonderland. The house was covered in lights, decorated ornately with paper snowflakes and there in front of a brand new 8 foot Christmas tree was Jake. He grinned his thousand watt smile at you as you dropped all of your bags and launched yourself into his arms.

“Hey Stormy girl, did ya miss me?”

You let out a watery laugh as you began to sob in earnest, he held you close and pressed kisses into your hair, reassuring you that he was home and this was real. When you finally settled he sat you both down on the couch in front of the massive tree, you were still in shock that not only was he here but he had somehow managed to transform your house into Santa’s workshop.

“What is all this baby?” You whispered against his lips, he’d never been big on Christmas but he knew you loved it so the thoughtfulness and effort put in after a nearly 3 month deployment was not lost on you.

“We didn’t get Christmas together darlin’ and I know being apart has been hard as hell these past few months” he stands up now, walking over to the tree to pick up a small gift you hadn’t even noticed. You gasp as tears well up in your eyes, Jake Seresin is down on one knee surrounded by a literal Christmas wonderland, and he’s about to ask you for forever. “Yes!” You blurt out, causing a belly laugh to erupt from him.

“You didn’t even let me ask sweetheart”

“You can but my answer is still yes, I just want to be yours, forever and ever.”

He closes the distance between you to slide his grandma’s engagement ring on your finger, kissing you in the glow of the twinkle lights.

“My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue, all's well that ends well to end up with you”

A joint bachelor/bachelorette party at the hard deck, all the boys had suggested strip clubs and hookers but Jake just wanted a night with everyone they loved and to maybe get you a little tipsy so he could proposition you for a hookup in the bathroom. You were dancing with Phoenix and a few of your other girlfriends, dressed in the tiniest white dress with a bedazzled cowboy hat and veil that said bride on the front. He didn’t think he could love you more than this moment; eyes full of joy and singing “Don’t stop believing” at the top of your lungs. He’d even let you convince him to wear the ridiculous groom t shirt you’d gotten him, taking all the jesting in stride even though he secretly loved it. He’d always give you whatever you want.

You were a spitfire when you wanted to be, always first to defend him if some cocky asshole got mouthy, he had been an absolute dick to everyone around him for years but since that first dagger squad mission he’d been trying his damndest to make amends.

That was one of the many ways he’d known you were the one, you’d been dating quietl after you and Rooster’s failed engagement had crashed and burned over a year before. During a particularly stressful training day the two had come to blows, both of them ending up in the infirmary as Rooster continued to pelt insults his way. Jake was trying to take it in stride but your temper could only take so much. You were professional but vicious in your descent on him, refusing to let Bradley Bradshaw and his unresolved emotional baggage dismantle all the work Jake had put in to better himself. You’d been a champion for him no matter what and he wasn’t used to anyone having his back, it took his breath away just how much you believed in him.

Watching you now he felt his heart swell, and he couldn’t sit in his chair any longer; the need to hold you carrying him across the room, spinning you into his arms with ease.

“Hi sugar, think I could steal you away for a few minutes?” He whispered in your ear, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he dipped you to cheers from the crowd. You threw your head back giggling and took his hand to drag him through the throngs of patrons to the quiet hall that held the bathrooms.

You knew what he wanted, he was always looking for an opportunity to get you wrapped around him, often joking he might have a bit of a kink for getting you off in public spaces but really he was just insatiable when it came to you, especially when you were dressed in what he thought may be the world's smallest dress and rubbing your body all over his.

Placing you on the side of the sink he ran his hands over you now, sliding a hand between your parted legs finding you obscenely wet and he chuckled; maybe he wasn’t the only one that got hot and bothered over hooking up where anyone could find you.

You gasped at his touch and pushed your hands into his hair, needing him to kiss you and he was all too willing, tasting your tongue as you moaned into his mouth, the prettiest sound he ever heard. He pulled your tiny scrap of underwear to the side and pressed his fingers into your dripping core, watching you grind down onto his hand, whispering filthy things he knew you’d be mortified if anyone heard and God he lived for it, you were his dirty girl behind closed doors all for him, only he got to see you like this. You were teetering on the edge now, suddenly removing his fingers from you with a smirk as you protested, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and chest heaving while you begged for him to stop teasing and fuck you. He didn’t have to be told twice, letting you wrench his belt buckle open and unzip his jeans in record time, sliding home into your velvet heat, I love yous breathed out into the humid air of the bar bathroom. He chased your mutual highs quickly, knowing eventually someone would come looking for you, desperate cries pouring from your pouty pink lips and coming hard as you pulsed and fluttered around him, both of you bathed in ecstasy in the dim dingy light. As the two of you attempted to become presentable you were startled by the creaking of the bathroom door, Javy poking his head through and shaking his head with a raucous laugh.

“We’ve been taking turns guarding the bathroom, would you two heathens wrap it up? We’ve got celebrating to do!”

You both couldn’t hold in your laughter, they knew you too well, bracing yourselves for the onslaught of teasing for skipping out on your own party to hook up.

Drinks were distributed, a new game of pool was started and as you gazed at Jake across the room you couldn’t help but be proud of who he had become. He was honorable, steadfast and in fact too good to be true. You had both been damaged and jaded from past mistakes and relationships but had somehow healed each other becoming the best version of yourselves. You’d do it all again if it meant you ended up here, with your magnetic force of a man. Loving him was like coming up for air, he was Christmas morning and birthday wishes on lit candles and technicolor fireworks on the Fourth of July. You couldn’t wait to spend forever loving him.

“You’re my, my, my, my Lover.”

As you sat in the dressing room of the venue overlooking the harbor you were brought back to the night of Penny and Maverick’s wedding just a few years ago. You had come back to San Diego for their nuptials still heartbroken from your failed engagement with Bradley. Over the course of the long weekend you had found love again in the form of your best friend, the man you were finally about to marry.

Sometimes it still felt like a dream, you were afraid you would wake up one morning and still be single and heartbroken in your tiny apartment in Pensacola, but fate had stepped in and brought the two of you together. It hadn’t been easy, you were in tears more often than you’d like to admit when you first started dating long distance, and then deployments apart caused even more strain.

When you were finally promoted to Lieutenant Commander 10 months into your budding romance your superior told you there was an opportunity to fly again at top gun but this time with a new crew. So you and your front seater Viper decided to take the leap and head to Fightertown. Jake couldn’t believe it when he had a knock on his door that Sunday night to find you with all your luggage on his front porch, bottle of champagne in hand asking how he felt about a roommate.

It had been two years since then, both the dagger squad and red knights could be seen mingling outside and you felt your heart swell at how lucky you were to be surrounded by so many amazing friends.

Jake was all nerves on the opposite side of the venue, couldn’t seem to keep his hands from shaking as he tried to put his cufflinks on. Javy swatted his hand away and took over, shaking his head and handing Jake his whiskey to finish up.

“What are you so worried about? Stormy’s in dude, you two were made for each other.”

Jake knew he was being ridiculous, his family loved Stormy, all of his friends did too, he just wanted everything to be perfect for her.

“I’m not worried about her leaving me numb nuts, I just want it to be everything she hopes it is, I’ve checked the weather 100 times today and if it rains I swear-“

“Jake, she’s not just excited about the fairy tale wedding; she’s excited to marry you. The rest of it will turn out perfectly because you two will be together, the rest is gravy bud.”

Jake wondered to himself when Javy had gotten so smart, but he had to admit his wingman was right about one thing, being with you forever was the thing that mattered most and Jake couldn’t wait to start it with you.

As you walked down the aisle you could barely hold it together, Jake was already tearing up when you reached him taking his hand in yours it took all the restraint you had to not go ahead and kiss him. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and even if it had just been the two of you and a justice of the peace that would’ve been enough, because the end result was forever with the love of your life. Jake’s brother-in-law, a preacher back in Texas had been asked to be the officiant and when he finally announced you man and wife you couldn’t get to your love fast enough, pressing your lips to his as he made a show of dipping you for the crowd.

Later that evening in the glow of the harbor lights you were swaying to the music with your husband and you couldn’t put into words how perfect this night had been. He pulled your face close to his as he sang along with the band, and you had to kiss him again, it felt like every cell in your body cried out to be loved and touched by Jake Seresin and you knew without a doubt he always would. No matter where the two of you went he would do everything to love and protect you, and you would always do the same. Forever.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @ohtobeleah @bobgasm @attapullman @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @mygyn @86laura11 @floydsglasses @dempy @nouis-bum @angelbabyyy99 @pinkdaisies9285 @purelyfiction @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @jostan456 @kmc1989 @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @sailor-aviator

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