#not so much these days since my window faces a backyard

[jaylaxies]

ROMAN HOLIDAY

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slight fluff, protected and unprotected sex, (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, baby, darling, daddy), lots of kissing and brief mentions of smoking, stealing, running away from cops, drugs, somnophilia (consensual), etc.

WC: 10k words

SYNOPSIS: visiting your grandma’s place was more or less your entire plan for your summer vacations and only break you get before your university starts, although, meeting your neighbour, bickering with him and clutching his hand while running away from cops wasn’t in your bucket list.

PLAYLIST: welcome to wonderland by anson seabra, movement by hozier, if you let me by alina baraz, how to love by jen z, roman holiday by halsey.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels <3 i'm finally here with a jake fic which was long due! i hope you guys like it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D loveyou all <3

Bagging a window seat for a day-long journey sure is a blessing, peculiarly when you have to stay sitting at your spot in a train for a sum of six hours. Nestled in your seat, you sit straighter when the scenic view of the sea water meeting the sky graces your eyes—which you capture on your phone’s camera with a soft smile. 

It felt as if it had been ages since you got out of your room, where you used to be cooped up during the entirety of your day, studying for your final year of school. 

Your parents were concerned. They were highly proud of you for achieving top honours, yes, but it was about time you went out and cherished your life a little before you got winded up in the stress of University yet again, which was to start in one month. 

And what’s a better place to spend your vacations at if not at your granny’s home? 

It was a few minutes past six when you finally reached your desired destination, dragging your luggage behind you as a swish of cold breeze hit you. It looked straight out of a movie with how the train station was lit up by old-fashioned lamps which radiated warmth just by glancing towards them.  

You hugged your cardigan tighter, walking out to find the taxi stand just outside the exit area of the station, pulling out your phone to show the driver the address you’d be meaning to go to. He was a kind man, helping you put your luggage into the trunk of his taxi. Your curious eyes looked out, observing how much the town had changed over the years. 

You were seven when you last visited her hometown. Ever since then, your grandma used to be the one who visited you in the city, at your place, however she did not wish to leave her town and move in with your family. You could see why she chose to stay here—the serene view, the freshness in the air, the tranquil surroundings, it made the corner of your lips curl up into a smile. 

It only got wider once the driver stopped his taxi in front of your grandma’s house. It was exactly how you had remembered it to be—a small but two story house with a big veranda which was lit up by fairy lights on the big bushes. The back door connected the path towards the small pool and then yet another door linked the beach from your backyard. 

Your grandma stood by the door with the fondest smile gracing her ever so beautiful face, a few grey strands fell on her face and you couldn’t help but get out of the taxi and run towards her, capturing her in an embrace. A hearty chuckle filled the air, the scent of your favourite cookies encapsulated you, making you wonder if she had baked a batch just for you as you snuggled further, her hand patting your head exactly the way she used to do ever since you were a kid. 

“I missed you, grandma.” Your expression said it all, and she looked more than happy to usher you in the house, saying how chilly the night was and you made sure to pay the driver, thanking him for his service as you dragged the luggage in. 

A wave of nostalgia hit you as your eyes wandered off to observe each corner, but your grandma didn’t hear any of it, making sure her granddaughter was well fed and rested after the long journey. 

She spent a good while telling you embarrassing stories of your father during dinner, which you listened to with delight, sharing your own stories with zeal before you climbed up the stairs, opening the door to the room you used to use each time you stayed over as a child. 

It didn’t change, the bed was still too big for you, the windows were spotless as if it had been cleaned frequently and the scent of old books paired with a tinge of vanilla filled your senses. Your body felt calm and you couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this way. 

Calling your parents, you updated them by telling you had reached safely as you walked in the balcony, feeling comfortable in a sweatshirt and cotton shorts. The night sky resembled a velvet blanket full of glistening stars. 

However, a figure clad in all black captured your attention. It was a bit beyond one in the morning, which is why it was unsettling to see someone walk in such dim lights. The stranger made his way towards your neighbouring house, making you wonder if he lived there. 

Shrugging, you sighed. Sitting at one place for hours does tire your body, so you proceed to finally get into your cozy bed, setting an alarm before your grandma comes in to check if you require anything. 

“Sweet dreams my little peanut,” your grandma smiled, closing the door behind you as you replied back with a gentle voice. 

“Sweet dreams, Gigi!” It was a nickname you used for her, she found it lovely. 

The placid atmosphere and the distant sound of waves acted as a catalyst to your sleep, and you slept soundly, not knowing that the calmness was just a start to your inevitable venture—something no one could have prepared you for. 

You found yourself walking alongside your Gigi to visit the lady next door in the afternoon. She was a kind soul—as stated by your grandma, not to mention that she treated her like her own family, making sure to provide help whenever she could and that’s the reason why you were going to meet her. 

It wasn’t the first time; apparently you used to play in their veranda a lot as a child, which again, you didn’t remember. However, when the lady—Mrs. Sim, opened the door, the memories came rushing back to you. She was jolly, almost as if she was waiting for your arrival and soon, you were engulfed into a sweet hug. 

She called out your name in sheer excitement, leaning back to take a good look at your face, which sported a silly smile due to embarrassment. 

“Aw, love. You’ve grown into such a pretty young lady,” she gushed, ushering you both inside and into the living room area. 

“And you don’t look a day over twenty, Mrs. Sim,” you replied, not lying considering how youthful she appeared to be. 

Her smile only widened at your comment, “now, another word and I’ll be floating in the clouds,” she said, making you chuckle as you got engaged in a conversation, sipping on the cranberry juice which Mrs. Sim had so kindly offered you. 

It was decided that you’d be having lunch together, and you tried your best to help the two women in the kitchen but you were soon shoved out, saying you don’t have to do a thing and rest—that’s the purpose of your vacations. 

Which made you sit down and use your phone, scrolling through random apps and replying to all the texts. 

“Y/n!” Soon, you were called into the kitchen, and you poked your head in with a smile. 

“Yes, Gigi?” 

“Oh, peanut, can you please go upstairs and call Jake for lunch? It’s almost done.” She asked. 

You tilted your head in confusion, mind wandering back to the guy you had seen last night and you came to the conclusion that Jake might be Mrs. Sim’s son. 

You nodded, heading up the wooden staircase. Would you have to introduce yourself to him? Would it get awkward? You had no clue. 

Knocking on the door twice, you took a step back and patiently waited for the door to open and so, you tried again to no avail. You wondered if he had his headphones on, which left you with no choice but to open the door, peeking in slightly only to find the room empty. 

“Oh,” you let out, closing the door behind you for the sake of privacy. 

“He’s not in his room,” you informed Mrs. Sim. 

She sighed, serving a good portion of food for all of you, “I could have sworn he didn’t go out,” she shook her head as you three sat down. You let the elders start eating first and only then you picked up your chopsticks to do the same. 

“I haven’t seen him in a while, what’s the tough guy up to?” Your Gigi asked. 

“He’s busy enrolling himself into universities,” Mrs. Sim says, a sad smile taking over her face, “he says he doesn’t want to leave me and is aiming for nearby universities.” 

“My my, isn’t he a darling boy?” Your grandma praised while you chewed on your food, which melted right in your mouth, silently eating while hearing them converse. 

It didn’t take long for your grandma to ask them to come over for dinner the very next day, “it’s only fair that I cook for you too,” she argued when Mrs. Sim told her that she shouldn’t bother. 

This time, your grandma let you help with the cooking, and of course, you were sent to invite the Sims over for dinner. You hugged your white cardigan close to your body—the nights tend to get chilly. Walking over to the neighbouring home, you rang the bell and were greeted with the sight of Mrs. Sim, who actually dressed up for the little dinner party. 

“Oh, darling. Can you please call Jake down for dinner too?” She asked you as she was busy tidying up her own kitchen. 

“Of course,” you smiled. 

It was the second time you were heading up the stairs. This time, you were sure you’d be meeting the said boy. You found yourself standing right in front of his room yet again, gulping down your nervousness. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to introducing yourself to new people, school made sure you knew how to do that, however, your nerves were acting up. 

With a deep breath, you knocked on the door, twice—just like the last time. The difference, however, was that the door was opened in this instance. 

The scent of an intoxicating blend of masculinity and sophistication announced his presence, undertones of musk and wood laced up, providing him a complex aura altogether. 

A tall guy with parted black hair leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow perfectly raised in question, his arms folded as his honey brown eyes with the slightest speckles of gold stared your way, his plump lips soon curling up into what seemed to be an assortment of a smile and a smirk. 

“You must be Y/n,” he stated, standing up straight, which caused his muscles to flex enough to the point it was visible in his white button up. 

You licked your lips unknowingly, moistening them up before you nodded, extending your hand for him to shake, “pleasure meeting you, Jake.” 

His eyes travelled down from your face to your hand, a low chuckle left his mouth, him opening the door and stepping out, coming closer to you as he grabbed your smaller hand in his bigger, warmer ones in a firm handshake. 

“I can see why my mom can’t stop talking about you,” he said, making you tilt your head in question, eyes never leaving his face which was captivating. 

“And why is that so?” You asked, stepping back slightly as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. 

“Because you seem to be a good girl,” he breathed, making you go still as he leaned back with the same smirk, leaving you behind, walking down the stairs. 

Now, you didn’t expect the situation to turn out this way, yet you knew that talking to him further would only cause your head to hurt. 

What even made him think about you being a good girl?

Is it your outfit? Plain, loose jeans paired with a pink top and cardigan. It’s basic enough not to be categorized so easily. 

You scoff to yourself, already hating the situation as you walk downstairs, only to find Jake with a smile that genuinely looked sweet while he talked to his mother, helping her lock the door. 

“I see you met Jaeyun,” she smiled, and you nodded, sitting alongside her, not sparing a glance at the said boy as you didn’t even know his real name was Jaeyun. 

The table was set for four, which made you sit right across from Jake, who’s demeanour had changed as he complimented your granny, who laughed at his sweetness. 

“Here, have some more,” he says, serving another portion to your grandma, who cooed at his kind conduct at the table. 

He made sure to be on his best behaviour, only in front of others but when his gaze fell towards you, a bored expression overtook his features, which no one paid attention to. 

You rolled your eyes. It hadn’t even been a whole day since you met and yet the boy made you dread his presence. He wasn’t being straight up rude per se, however his actions weren’t subtle either just like how he completely ignored your existence during the entirety of the dinner. 

He offered to clean up, which included him having to clean up your plate as well, which was something he did with a frown on his face as Mrs. Sim endorsed that he should help with the household work. 

Both ladies were in awe of how well mannered Jake was, and it left you irritated to no end before Mrs. Sim called out your name softly. 

“Jake’s been acting distant lately,” she told you in a soft voice, making sure the said boy doesn’t hear you both, “and comes home late from his part time work, doesn’t share a lot these days too,” she sighs before looking at you softly, “you’re such a lovely girl, Y/n. I’m sure Jaeyun would love to have you as a friend he can rely on. Will you please look after him?” She asked, eyes sincere with worry for her son. 

Now, you were provided with two choices—one to say yes and agree, but you’d have to be in Jake’s proximity for that. The second one would be a plain no, which would sound disrespectful and insolent. 

So you put on your most convincing smile, which turned into an unadulterated one when you saw her being concerned about her son, “of course, I’ll do that, Mrs. Sim.”

“Oh please! Call me auntie,” she swatted her hand at your formal usage of name and you laughed, agreeing. 

Since the dinner was summed up now and the dishes were done, courtesy of Jaeyun; you were asked to walk them back home, which wasn’t even a two minute walk, however you couldn’t say no to your grandma and hence, you agreed. 

Mrs. Sim—or your auntie Sim, thanked you for the dinner, and proposed to at least have one meal of the day together each day, which you thought was a lovely idea given that you had grown to like the lady. 

You were just about to leave when she went inside but a firm grip on your wrist stopped you right away, making you look up at Jake in question. 

“You don’t have to bother being my friend, you’ll only be a hindrance in my way,” he says smoothly. 

Your expression turns sour, almost as if you were bored, “why? So you can keep your fake good boy persona up and going?” You said, mimicking his tone. 

Not expecting such a reply, he let out a surprised scoff, mixed with the slightest chuckle, “so what? It doesn’t concern you. Or are you offended that I’m not actually good, like you,” he whispered, leaning close, which made you realize how tall he actually was, “you know nothing about me, princess.”

The nickname rolled off his tongue seamlessly, sending a shiver down your spine while you kept a straight face, trying not to seem affected at all. 

“Neither do you know about me, Sim. So stop making assumptions and just because I’m nice doesn’t mean I’ll take your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes, saying it all in one go before turning around to leave. 

“You should be scared of me,” he chuckles behind you. 

“In your dreams,” you retorted, not sparing him another glance as your heart palpitated. 

You had never talked to anyone in such a manner before, it gave a sense of newfound confidence—which you needed.

Jake simply watched you walk back to your place, shaking his head once you disappeared from his eyesight and still, a humorous smile never left his face. 

You had updated your parents about your three days here and later called your friend to do the same, who was also busy with her own vacation bucket list, yet it was a refreshing talk given that you currently did not have much to do to entertain yourself. 

Which left you to grab your swimwear and go for a swim—utilizing the pool in your backyard. 

Gigi loved to sit by the pool and made sure that it was cleaned every now and then. She had gotten it cleaned right in the morning today, which also gives you an opportunity to use it. 

The sunset casted a warm glow on the calm waves of the pool, the slight breeze in the air making it serene as you immerse yourself in the water, it closing you right in, feeling like a warm hug. 

You started slowly with effortless strokes, enjoying the feeling of lukewarm water on your body. You stopped after a while, resting as you let your body float with your eyes closed. 

“Enjoying ourselves, are we now?” A voice broke your state of tranquillity, your eyes opening in a swift and the water sloshed with how fast you turned around. 

Of course, it was none other than Jake sim who sat on the pool lounge chair, arms behind his back as if he was sitting to enjoy the view. 

“The fuck are you doing here?” You breathed out in question. 

He looked at you, feigning disappointment as he leaned to look down at you, “oh, princess. Didn’t they teach you not to use such filthy words?”

His condescending tone only riled you up, “didn’t they teach you not to show up at someone’s place unannounced?” You mocked, getting out of the pool and trying to find your towel, only for you to realize he was sitting right on it. 

“I’m simply here to get cumin from your grandma, we ran out of it, you see,” he explained, not sounding sincere as he let his eyes wander all over your wet body, barely covered with your bikini. 

Your eyes, however, focused on the cigarette he took out from his pocket, making you gasp as you made your way towards him in an attempt to snatch it off his fingers.  

Nevertheless, Jake was quicker to get up, grabbing your hand which was extended and pinning it up against the wall, his body pressed up against yours, successfully making your body go still with shock. 

Yeah, you didn’t really adore your body’s fight or flight response. 

“Fuck—” your eyes widened, yet he wasn’t the one to give you even a second to complain. 

“Shh, princess. I don’t want a single bad word coming out of your mouth now, is that understood?” He asked, using his condenscending tone again. 

You could feel every ounce of confidence which you had yesterday leaving your body as you stared into his honey eyes, an unconscious slight nod betraying you.  

That satisfied him, although he didn’t bother changing his position, nor did he mind your wet body as he took out a lighter from his free hand, lighting up the flame, keeping it close to the cigarette which was pressed in between his lips. 

Your eyes were transfixed on his face, observing how swiftly he closed the lighter, stuffing it in his pocket right before he looked away, blowing smoke into the air, giving you the greatest opportunity to stare at his consummate side profile. 

He took the joint back in his fingers, returning his attention your way, “ever smoked before?” He asked, tone seemingly raspier. 

Not trusting your voice, you simply shook your head as to provide him an answer. 

He snickered, “of course you haven’t. It goes against your good girl rulebook, doesn’t it?” 

“Shut up!” Your sudden outburst of anger only humoured him, even more so when you tried to snatch the cigarette from him using your free hand to prove him wrong. 

He didn’t let it happen. 

Instead, you found yourself looking right into his eyes with his slender fingers holding your chin in place. His breath was cool with a lingering smell of mint—which was probably due to the flavour of cigarette. 

“Want it that bad now?” He raised his brows, “open your mouth,” he ordered, not giving you a second to comply, his thumb parting your lips as he desired. 

He took a drag, inhaling the smoke deeply as you gulped, you could hear your heartbeat, or maybe that was simply how aware you were of your surroundings—your proximity with Jake. 

Tilting his head, he leaned in again, mouth parted just the right amount. He let the smoke out and into your mouth in an agonizingly slow fashion, his lips on the verge of touching yours. 

Your subconscious took over once you inhaled the smoke and it hit your throat. The burning sensation caused you to push him off as you coughed out in distress. 

“Guess you can’t handle it, princess,” he clicked his tongue in disappointment. 

You glared his way, composing yourself enough to actually snatch the cigarette from his fingers and take a deep puff, ignoring the way it burned your throat. It was your turn to surprise him by pulling him closer, grabbing his collar. 

Your eyes were closed when you leaned in, blowing the smoke right into his mouth, causing him to take it all in, him never once closing his eyes. He stared at you with such intensity that you could feel it, despite your eyes being closed. 

Once you were done, you breathed deeply, throwing the cigarette on the ground, “don’t get ahead of yourself, Sim,” that’s all you said before walking back into your home, rushing up the stairs and into your room just to avoid running into him again. 

Only when you were in the safety of your room, you let out a frustrated scream right into your pillow. 

Three days in your vacation and this boy had already driven you insane to the point you had smoked right into his mouth. 

You took a warm shower before taking a nap—something you required to calm your heart before you saw him at dinner, again. 

In contrast to yesterday, when he didn’t provide you with an ounce of attention, his behaviour had done a solid one eighty as now, he provided you with his utmost attention, passing you subtle smirks during the entirety of the dinner. 

You were more than glad when auntie Sim distracted you by indulging in random conversations, and you can easily say you enjoyed the information she was providing you with at the given moment. 

“And, and!” Auntie Sim said full of excitement, “Our Jaeyunie was four and you were three when it happened. He was so curious about you playing on the beach building sandcastles alone, he wanted to talk to you and so he collected flowers from our garden and gave them to you,” she cooed. 

You looked at the boy, surprised with the information of him being a sweet baby. Now, he was the one who tried to stop his mother from spilling the stories any further, averting his gaze but you didn’t let it go. 

“Aw! That’s so cute Jaeyunie. Where are my flowers now?” You asked, voice annoyingly high to bother him. 

Your grandma laughed as auntie Sim only urged Jake to get some for you. He looked your way, annoyed and you only passed him a sweet smile. 

You couldn’t deny, being a menace did feel good at times and the dinner wasn’t so bad after all. 

Yet, the events of the evening didn’t let you sleep, causing you to walk on the balcony yet again and you couldn’t miss the figure clad in all black leaving your neighbour’s home yet again, at two after midnight nonetheless. 

It wasn’t something you should be indulging in yet you couldn’t help but wonder.

What exactly was Jake up to? 

In these ten days of vacation, you had done quite a few things which included learning a few recipes with your grandma, bickering with your neighbour, minus the proximity as you made your mission to stay away for the sake of your poor heart. Majorly, you had grown to adore the beautiful beach which was right behind your home. 

Seeing how you had nothing to do in the given moment, you found yourself sitting on the warmth of the sand yet again, close enough for your feet to touch the water which was cold, juxtaposing the temperature of your body.  

You didn’t know how long you sat there dazed, watching the never ending blue waves stretching as far as possible, till you gasped and got taken back into reality once a hand on your shoulder shook you in annoyance. 

It was none other than Jake, who stood there with his jaw clenched, a bouquet of flowers resting in his right hand, causing you to raise your brows at him. 

“Mom forced me to do this, okay?” He huffed, handing you over the multicoloured bundle of happiness. 

It didn’t matter that it was Jake who gave you the flowers, it still made you happy, a smile growing on your face as the scent infiltrated your senses. 

This certainly wasn’t the kind of reaction Jake was expecting from you. He was sure you’d throw a snarky remark or maybe simply not take the flowers from him, but even you couldn’t deny the beauty of nature. 

“Thank you,” you whispered under your breath, surprising him even more. 

It was one of the days you felt calm, not wanting to channelize your energy into something as useless as picking up a fight, however, Jake won’t leave without that happening. 

“That’s it? You just need flowers to shut up?” He tantalizes you to answer back. 

You only give him a sour look in return, wondering what he’s even doing on the beach wearing shoes, clad in leather jacket as if he was going for the cliché illegal races you see in movies. 

“You should go, Jaeyunie,” you nodded with a fake smile. 

Your phone started ringing just then, and Jake caught the display name right before you picked up the call. 

It was Lee Heeseung—the guy who was your study partner in school and also the guy who was your competition when it came to academics. 

The call wasn’t long, he had simply contacted you to inform you about the university he got into as you also filled him up with the university you got accepted into. 

You assumed that Jake would have gone back, which wasn’t the case as he stood behind you, eavesdropping shamelessly. His expression turned into one of realization when he saw you actually smiling and talking sweetly to whoever was the guy who had called you, a scoff leaving his mouth on its own accord. 

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Will text you later, goodbye!” You smiled, concluding the conversation only to find Jake still standing at the same spot, making you look at him in question. 

“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” he said, seeming bored. 

A sigh left your mouth, Jake was great at making assumptions, “why do you care?” You asked. 

“I don’t,” he replied, not missing a beat, “I should go, I have work to do,” he said, walking back to his place. 

Your lips worked before you could process anything, “yeah? Like you do every night?” You asked. 

He stilled, turning back in a second and crouching down to your level, grabbing your nape, pulling you close to him, “don’t get involved in my matters, Y/n. I’m saying this for your own fucking good,” he seethed out, causing you to gulp, your heartbeat rising up due to the proximity again. 

“What are you up to, Jakey?” You asked teasingly, trying to diffuse the tension. 

“Nothing that concerns you, princess. I’m being serious, okay?” He held eye contact, repeating the last word again, and you nodded. 

“Okay,” you mumbled as you felt him caressing your nape gently before he got up, leaving you there wordlessly. 

You didn’t realize how hard you were clutching the flowers while watching his walking figure. The sudden mood switch made you curious, and despite him warning you, it was something you wanted to see for yourself. 

Was he in trouble? Was he caught up in illegal activities? Or was he simply out partying somewhere?

Another sigh left your lips. 

You shouldn’t get involved in his matters. 

You got yourself involved in his matters. 

Sneaking out of your home was easy and you made sure to grab your jacket as the night got chillier than usual. All this to follow Jake. 

It was easy since he didn’t use any cars, walking towards his desired destination. It almost felt comical how you tried to tiptoe for a total of fifteen minutes, hiding in random alleyways whenever you made even the slightest noise of stepping on a pebble. 

For a second you even regretted coming out and spending so much energy on this, till you saw Jake actually stop and get inside an alleyway, which you approached exactly two minutes after he went in. 

Peeking in, you noticed how wide the way actually was, people clad in black and hoodies which hid their faces were present all over, more than thirty people you’d estimate. 

You squint your eyes to get a better focus of what they were up to, only for them to widen in realization when you found them exchanging packets and smoking what looked like drugs. Jake was also engaged in a conversation with a guy, purchasing drugs from him, which caused you to gasp slowly. 

“Looking for something, kid?” A deep, hoarse voice spoke near your ear, causing you to flinch and move away, turning around to see a guy full of tattoos smiling down at you, which disgusted you. 

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, looking towards your right to see Jake looking your way, eyes full of shock and worry as he whispered your name under his breath, not believing that you’d actually follow him there despite him saying a firm no to you. 

Maybe he was right, maybe you shouldn’t have come here. 

“Uhm, I—I lost my way back home. I’ll get going now, I didn’t see anything I promise! You guys please continue,” you said, trying to sprint but the guy was quick to hold your jacket, making you stop as Jake rushed your way, leaving whatever he was up to. 

Before anyone could take up any action, the sound of police sirens alerted everyone in the vicinity, which was more than enough for all the guys to scramble as you stood there with panic, trying to move your body seeing how the guys were climbing up the wall full of graffiti on the other side as it was the only way to their escapade. 

“Run,” Jake breathed out, grabbing your smaller hand in his without any notice and running towards the same way, his jaw was clenched. 

You followed wordlessly, mouth open with how deeply you were breathing, chest heaving up and down while you ran and reached the wall. 

The sirens got closer as if someone had tipped the cops to search this particular area and you were worried if you both would get caught up in this mess. 

“Jump,” he commanded and you stared at the wall, shaking your head. 

“I—I can’t,” you stuttered, watching how the others claimed it 

He pulled you closer, picking you up with ease as to provide you with some kind of elevation, which definitely helped when you grabbed on to the top brick, pushing your body up and jumping to the other side, stumbling slighting as you fell down. 

Jake was swift, landing by your side before he grabbed your hand again, pulling you up with him to run again. Your legs hurt yet you didn’t stop till he pulled you by his side, getting a bobby pin out of his pocket to unlock the door, which he opened in a go and pulled you inside, locking the door. 

Silence. 

Your breathing is all you could hear, but Jake’s eyes were louder than anything else, which scared you even further. 

“I specifically told you to stay out of it, what’s so hard to understand here?” He more or less shouted, pushing you against the wall. 

You gulped, not looking at his face but he wasn’t having it, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look his way. 

“What if they did something to you? What if the police caught you? What if something had happened to you?” His voice got smaller after each sentence, more breathy and desperate, making your heart break when he genuinely made it seem like he cared about you. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, which probably wasn’t helpful at the given second, “I thought that you were in trouble and,” you whispered, not having more to say. 

He sighed, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes closed to get some rest. You couldn’t move, your whole body felt more alive than ever, maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or simply Jake being so close to you. 

He stepped back after a few seconds, “go change,” he said, and that’s when you looked around to find yourself in a boutique full of clothes. 

“W—why?” You asked. 

“Because the cop saw us, he knows what we’re wearing,” he answered, trying to find clothes his size. 

Maybe he saw you when you were climbing up, meaning that you barely escaped him. 

“But surveillance cameras? Technically, won’t this be considered stealing?” You bit your lip. 

“There are none,” he replied, “and we have more pressing matters than to sit and worry about stealing.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking your way, trying to find some outfit, or rather, you were stealing it given the circumstances. 

“So, why were you out there?” 

“I should be asking you that, Y/n,” he said when you went into the changing room. 

“You had drugs with you!” Your voice boomed from the stall and he simply took off his shirt in the store. 

“So what?” He uttered, pissed. 

“Did you smoke drugs that day too? Did you give me drugs?” You screeched while asking and he opened the curtains, seeing you soothing the top down. 

“I don’t fucking do drugs,” he groaned, “I buy it and sell it to the guys next town at a higher price,” he explained. 

The dim light from the changing stall only enhanced Jake’s shirtless body, his abs full on display alongside his torso, which was well built. Your eyes settled on the tattoo he had on his left side of the rib. 

Taking a step further, your fingers gently traced the intricate design, making him shiver without you knowing, his fingers clasping around your wrist to keep it away again. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He whispered. 

“I—” you started speaking, looking at him with wide eyes which shone of innocence and worry, lips jutted in the slightest pout and hair slightly messy. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he breathes out, not letting you complete your sentence, coming closer to your face, “why do you have to do everything I tell you not to do?” He asked, however his tone wasn’t filled with anger. 

It was something you quite couldn’t pinpoint yourself. 

He sighed, “let’s get you home.”

“Are we gonna walk back? Isn’t it too dangerous?” You asked as he turned around to put on a shirt averting your eyes from his back which flexed with his movements, your body felt warm and throat parched, especially when he turned around with a smirk. 

“We’re driving back home.”

You soon found yourself on a lookout at the garage entrance of what Jake called an illegal garage which was used for repairing old racing cars. The place wasn’t authorized, which is why stealing from here would work perfectly. 

“How do you even know this?” You asked, exasperated as your nerves got the best of you. 

It certainly didn’t help that the place was dark, and Jake wasn’t replying as he was hot wiring the car without a number plate 

You had no idea where he learned that from. 

“You need to learn things if you want to survive in this world, darling,” he said, focusing on his work, not once thinking how you’d shiver with his use of nicknames. 

He’s glad it’s not some new high tech car, which he won’t be able to hot wire as they contain ignition immobilizers, which makes it impossible for it to happen—you nodded as he explained all of this, your focus elsewhere. 

“Let’s go,” he said after a few minutes, seemingly done with his work. 

You rushed to get into the car, a scream leaving your mouth as he started driving almost instantly, his fingers gripping the steering wheels hard enough for his veins to pop out as you struggled to put on the seatbelt. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you let out in half a scream. 

“Why? Not having fun now, princess?” He chuckled as he changed the gear, resting his hand on your thighs right after which caused you to squirm around in your seat. 

Your body was extra attentive when he was around, and you weren’t sure how to control your heart anymore, so you closed your eyes. 

“What’s so fun about this?” You asked, clutching the seatbelt. 

“You,” he confessed, messing up with your brain even further. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled, looking elsewhere. 

You didn’t trust his driving despite it seeming effortless, he was over speeding after all. 

“Now, we both know that’s not true, princess,” he stated and you huffed, knowing that he was right ignoring the fact that he was insufferable. 

His pace ensured you to reach home in record time, your legs felt wobbly the second you stepped on the road. 

“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second,” he rushed, leaving you standing alone as he parked the car outside a random garage two minutes away from your place. 

It was hard to believe how you got chased by police, stole clothes and a fully functional car all in one night. 

You saw him jogging back to you after a few minutes, standing right in front of you, “I think I should get back now,” you started to stay, however he stopped you. 

“You can’t do that, your gate’s got a surveillance camera so we need to go from the back side,” he stated, his hand automatically reaching for yours as you started to make way towards the back side, on the sand. 

All of a sudden, you felt smaller, heat creeping up your neck due to the body contact and you let him guide you wordlessly before you realized something. 

“Wait, how will you go back? Your place doesn’t have a back door,” you asked and he shrugged. 

“I’ll just jump to the other side of the garden wall, princess. You don’t need to worry about me,” he teased and you pushed him away, the warmth of his hand leaving yours. 

Tiptoeing into your home, you shut the back door as silently as possible before you rushed up the stairs and almost into your room, only to find Jake coming up with you. 

“What are you doing?” You whisper asked, eyes wide. 

“I’m curious about your room,” he answered with that usual smirk of his and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face. 

“You—” you tried to say, but stopped the second you heard another voice. 

“Oh, Peanut? You’re awake?” Your grandma’s voice called out from the balcony, and your mouth hung open as you shoved Jake into your room in an effort to hide him. 

“Y—yes, Gigi! I woke up to get some water,” you lied, wincing slightly as she acknowledged it and wished you a good night in her soft tone. 

You rushed in and locked the door, only to find Jake getting cozy in your bed. 

It was one of those days when your grandma missed your grandpa, and she spent hours on the balcony, looking at the glistening stars to find solace. You felt sad but the more pressing matter here was—how to get Jake out of your room? 

He can’t leave from the back door, he can’t go out from the front door as Gigi would see him, your room windows weren’t the opening type which left you with no option but for him to spend the night right here, with you. 

“Now what?” You asked, hand on your forehead while you paced around the room. 

“What? We sleep together, of course.” He had a cheeky smile on his face. 

“Are you crazy?” You almost screamed, but you didn’t wanna alert your grandma, which made you repeat it in a hushed tone.

“Why? Too scared to sleep with me? You’re the reason we’re in this situation, princess,” he smirked. 

You sighed. He was right about that part but you weren’t willing to sleep with him, so you proceeded to ignore him as you went into the bathroom to change into your comfortable clothes for the night. 

Jake simply patted the bed when you came out, silently asking you to sit next to him, and suddenly you realized that you’re locked up in a room with him, which didn’t help your nerves as you sat down with him. 

Somehow everything was rebellious against your rules when it concerned Sim Jaeyun. 

“Can’t you sleep on the floor?” You almost whined. 

He cocked his brow, “is that what I get after helping you escape?”

“That’s not it—”

“So? Is it the boyfriend?”

“I don’t have any—”

“The guy you were talking to in the morning.”

“He’s a friend—”

“Then there’s no problem, right?” he rasped. 

You didn’t realize your lip was bitten till his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, tugging on it gently to free it, caressing it while looking into your eyes. 

“Right?” He repeated. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding ever so slightly. 

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, flustering you as you tried to look away, which wasn’t something Jake allowed, his fingers gripping your chin now, “god, you look so fucking innocent.”

“I’m not!” You argued. 

“Yeah? Have you been kissed before, princess?” He asks, amused. 

His deep voice sends a shiver down your spine, to the point you almost whimpered out loud, but you were glad you didn’t, “no. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fucked anyone before.” You confessed, eyes on his plump lips. 

“Oh? Who’s the loser who fucked you without even kissing your prettiest lips?” He asked, frustrated that someone even dared to touch you, even though his words said otherwise. 

You gulped, “we were drunk,” you whispered, remembering your graduation party and how the guy had failed to please you. 

“Did he make you feel good?” Jake asked, expression serious. 

“What?” You were surprised by his question. 

He wasted no time in pulling you to his lap, your gasp only made him smirk wider, his hands resting on your waist, squeezing it lightly. 

“Did he satisfy you, princess?” His voice was an octave deeper, giving you goosebumps. 

“H—he didn’t,” you stutter, which pissed him further, his jaw tensed. 

“So you’re telling me that some asshole was deep inside you and didn’t even bother making you feel good?” He scoffed. 

“Jake—”

“Y’know what I would have done instead?” He asked, caressing your cheek, his thumb resting on your lips right after, “I’d kiss your lips till you get obsessed with mine.” his hooded eyes lured you in. 

His fingers travelled down to your neck, rubbing circles just above your clavicle, “I’d kiss you till my lips memorize every inch of your body, till your mind goes blank,” he whispers, biting your earlobe. 

You breathe in deeply, a whimper leaving your mouth, Jake’s name rolling off your tongue in a whisper right after, making him groan in response. 

“I’d ruin you, princess,” he breathes, eyes meeting yours. 

“Please.” You struggled to breathe, his pointy nose brushing against yours, lips threatening to kiss. 

“Say it,” he urged you, pulling your body impossibly closer on his lap. 

There was no denying that Jake made you lose every sense of rationality and morals in you, it almost felt as if you were intoxicated in his presence, your heart raced, thumping faster than ever, urging you to say yes. 

“Please ruin me, Jake,” you whispered, giving in and looking at him with innocent eyes. 

“That’s a good girl.” 

He was swift to push you down on the mattress, getting on top of you with hungry eyes to the point you almost felt as if you were a prey, and you liked it. 

His cold chain brushed against your clavicle, making you shiver as he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a fervent kiss, a groan leaving his mouth as he finally had you so close to him. 

Your fingers held on to his shoulders desperately, he was difficult to resist, and who were you to resist such pleasure? His plush lips moulding against yours, his hand squeezing your waist as you allowed yourself to get immersed into him. 

You could feel the warmth spreading in your abdomen like wildfire, a gasp giving him the perfect opportunity to taste you, sliding his tongue down your mouth to deepen the kiss, the taste of chocolate lingering in his mouth and you let yourself moan into his lips. 

You tugged on his hair, realizing how correct he was about you being obsessed with his lips as you found yourself chasing after it when he broke the kiss, making him chuckle at your desperation. 

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, staring at your slightly swollen lips, which glistened with the mixture of your spit. 

He wasn’t the one to waste time, his tongue licking your neck, placing kisses all over it, causing you to squirm and pant till he found the spot which had you rolling your eyes with sheer pleasure. 

Placing a hand over your mouth to silence your moans, he felt a feeling of possessiveness take over him. You looked so fucked out and he hadn’t even done anything to you yet, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he sees someone else with you. 

The mere thought had him biting and sucking on your skin in an attempt to mark the very spot which had you shivering and your toes curling. He slipped his other hand inside your flimsy tee, and in your bra, feeling your hardened nipples which he flicked between his fingers. 

Your body felt more awake than ever, each touch of his getting a reaction out of you, “so responsive, have you been waiting for this, princess?” 

You could only nod in desperation, trying your best to keep your moans at bay, not wanting to alert your grandma. He kissed your cheek before he got up to get rid of his own clothes, giving you a few seconds to stare at his faint abs, highlighted by the dim lights along with his tattoo, which you so desperately wanted to kiss. 

The image of you looking his way with such big eyes, chest heaving up and down only ignited the carnal feeling of him wanting to be deep inside you. 

It all felt new to you, being aware and not drunk this time, however it wasn’t just that—Jake made you feel this way, your thighs closing when you felt a fluttering sensation down your abdomen. 

“Undress,” he ordered. 

“What—”

“Undress for me, darling,” his words were smoother than the melted butter, making you work upon it instantly. 

His eyes were fixated on your figure the entire time you took to get your clothing off, feeling shy under his gaze, not to mention the outline of his cock in his boxers intrigued you even further. 

“Fuck, you’re all mine,” he said under his breath. 

His plush lips were soon on your tits, his other hand fondling and caressing your nipple while he worked his tongue, swirling it ever so perfectly before giving it a soft bite, making you arch your back as you bit on your discarded clothes, tears forming in your eyes with these euphoric sensations. 

He’s giving you all you could ask for and you? You’re a mess with your lipstick smudged and ragged breathing. Just when you thought that Jake couldn’t get you anymore wilder, he stuffed his hand down your wet panties, which brushed against your extremely sensitive clit. Even biting your clothes couldn’t stop a moan coming out of your mouth. 

“You like it, baby? That’s my good girl. So pretty and wet all for daddy, yeah? Daddy’s gonna taste you now, princess,” his spoke, his accent deep. 

“Daddy?” you asked, whimpering right after when his lips touched your bare pussy, pressing a kiss on your clit. 

There was something in the way he addressed himself so confidently which made you want to submit yourself to him fully, only pushing yourself deeper into sub space as he worshipped every inch of your body. 

“That’s right, baby,” he spoke against your, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his strong hands held your thighs open. 

Obscene noises of him licking and sucking resonated the room as you bucked up your hips unconsciously, desperate for friction, making his cock twitch while he licked languid strokes up and down your cunt, his hot breath fanning your folds, wishing to hear you moan despite the circumstances. 

“Shh, princess. We don’t want your grandma to know now, do we?” He smirked. 

Your hand slithers into Jake’s hair, tugging on it as you convulse in pleasure, letting him continue his ministrations on your leaking pussy, his lips soft unlike his actions, which were rushed and aimed at your pleasure. 

Your eyes roll back, arousal reaching its peak at the unadulterated pleasure as you repeated his name when he moved down to shove his tongue into your cunt, lapping at your juices when you reach your orgasm. 

Yet he doesn’t stop, inserting his slender finger in your tight hole, pumping it in and out gently at first while you whine and he gets up, wetness coating his lips. He lets you taste yourself by kissing you yet again, his fingers entertaining your cunt. 

Your breaths are heavier, louder and you can’t wait to have his cock shoved into you. You weren’t the one to have lewd thoughts in general yet here you were, moaning into Jake’s mouth, clenching around his two fingers which thrusted into you at a newfound speed. 

“Yes, daddy! Yes, oh god,” you mumbled to yourself, letting the lust consume you. 

His fingers curled inside you before he decided that you were ready for his cock. 

“Let’s see how desperate you are, beg for daddy’s cock,  princess,” he demanded. 

Now that his cock was in view, you stared at it dumbfounded. It was veiny and stood hard and leaking, the tip was red and ready to fuck you dumb, it pushed you over the edge. 

“Please, daddy? I’ll be a good girl for y—you please fuck me?” A tear left your eye, tainting your image even further which aroused Jake as a sadistic smile overtook his face. 

You continued to beg him, and he gave you no warning as he lined his tip on your entrance, coating it with your juices, almost pushing it all in but instead, he gave you just the tip, which made you beg out of frustration. 

“Tell me about your darkest fantasies,” Jake teased, seeing you pout and whine, “do it baby, only then you’ll get this cock into you.”

You were going crazy, “I—I want to be fucked awake,” you confessed, hiding your face. 

“Is that so? How cute,” he commented, pulling your body flush. 

Within a second, he thrusted into you sharply, your wet juices acting as the perfect lube to suck his cock right in as he bottomed out fully, cussing at the feeling of your walls clenching around him. 

You could feel the imprint of his dick on your lower abdomen, and he pressed on it with a proud smirk, only to make you whimper lowly, your voice quivering with deep he was in you, “big—so big.”

You laid beneath Jake in such a way that the sight was captivating for him, your vulnerability paired with his ignited primal hunger. 

He firmly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling out slightly before he thrusted into you again as you were clinging onto him. 

He had never found anyone like you before, it was as if you were the only one for him, the one who reacts to his touch in such ways, the one who drives him insane to the point he has to rile you up just to get you to talk to him. 

His slow thrusts soon turned into relentless, pleasure inducing thrusts, and you found yourself bucking your hips up to meet him, helping him reach deeper spots in you, his tip hitting your g-spot. 

Choked moans escaped your lips, reaching the point of complete incoherence as you got drunk in the intensity of Jake’s presence, your senses overwhelmed as he fucked you without any interruptions. 

“Daddy—please!”

Sensing that you were close, he thrusted harder, twitching inside your pussy, his lips capturing yours as you both cried out, reaching your climax in harmony, breathing in deeply before he filled you up with his warm cum, which mixed with your own juices. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, causing him to laugh and pull you in a sweet kiss. 

You could see the clear switch in his demeanour when he cleaned you up, asking gentle questions about how you felt or if he went overboard. 

He was perfect. 

Something had changed in the air, and you both were aware of it, but rather than verbalising it, you slept in each other’s arms, Jake staying up a few minutes just to see your peaceful face. 

“Good night, princess.”

Jake woke up early despite not getting enough sleep, still not believing that he fucked you—the prettiest girl he swore he’d ever laid eyes on. 

And he was sure to make your desires come true. 

You wore nothing but his shirt to sleep, which made your pussy accessible to him, his fingers playing with your folds ever so gently as he didn’t wish to wake you up, not this soon at least. 

He continued to do so for a remarkably long time, smiling each time he saw you stir in your sleep, his lips leaving kisses on your neck and shoulder blades till you were fully wet for him. 

Jake was shocked when you revealed that you were into somnophilia, but who was he to deny his girl some pleasure?

His other hand was busy taking care of his raging boner, seeing you dressed in his shirt, your scent mixed with his only drove him crazy. 

His grip on your thighs was firm when he straddled you, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed it in you with a few thrusts, the stretch being enough to wake you up with a whimper, your state disoriented but the second you realized that Jake was making your wish actually come true, you moaned. 

His dick throbbed inside you and you were still not over last night’s adventure as curse words filled the air, along with the mist of your unholy activities and fervent longing as he thrusted with a groan, kissing and nibbling on the skin of your neck. 

You were sure you had bruises forming on your clavicle by now, which also extended down your breasts and inner thighs, Jake being particular about having you marked through and through. 

You could only sigh and plead for more, beg for more, the word daddy coming out of your mouth effortlessly, which was effective to the point it made Jake fuel with desire as he provided you with the most overwhelming, ecstasy filled orgasm, him coming all over your pussy, pulling out this time. 

“I like you,” he revealed all of a sudden, his smile the epitome of boyishness which made you chuckle with your newfound happiness. 

That’s one good way to wake up in the morning. 

“Guess what, Sim. I like you too,” you confessed, growing shy by the last word and he pulled you in a sweet hug, swinging your body along his, your laughter filling up the room. 

You gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.  

You had forgotten to help him escape without your grandma knowing. 

The escape was successful, and so were your holidays which were nearing. Your sadness was apparent on your face, having no desire to go back leaving your grandma and aunt Sim. 

More importantly, Jake. 

It has become a routine for him to slip into your room ever so professionally to sleep with you—some nights you did sleep, other nights he gave you every reason to be awake. 

Which also served as a solid reason for Jake to stop indulging in the so called drug trade, one instance of almost being caught was enough for you both, not that you were involved in the first place. 

He opened up to you, actually acting like a goof at times, juxtaposing his usual bad boy demeanour. He provided you with the best of both worlds. 

Your feelings for the guy you used to find annoying were increasing at record speed per day, and now that it was finally one day before you’d leave, you couldn’t help but be bothered by Jake’s absence. 

He’s always around, which made you wonder where and what he was up to, especially when you wanted nothing more than to spend your time in his arms, lip quivering at the thought that he might not wish to see you anymore.

However, that wasn’t the case when he showed up in the doorway, huffing and hair messy as if he was running. 

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, letting him pull you in the comfort of his warm arms. 

“I’m coming,” he breathed, making you look at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” You blinked, almost stuttering. 

“I’m coming to Seoul with you, princess. I got into the same university,” he chuckled as you snatched the envelope from him, jumping with excitement as tears filled your eyes, hugging him even tighter. 

You felt like your heart was going to explode with the excitement, which Jake found heartwarming. He had planned this the second he saw you and got to know you. It was a given that he wanted to be with you. 

“What about your mom?” You asked softly, realizing that she’d be alone. 

“She’s gonna stay with Gigi. Our ladies are strong women, right?” He asked, caressing your lip, which you had noticed was his habit. 

“W—when did you even apply—this is so amazing,” you went on rambling, which was something he adored, but kissing your lips to shut you up was his favourite thing, especially when he got to see your shy smile right after. 

“So, we’re gonna be together?” You questioned, shyness taking over. 

“You’re wrong if you think you’ll ever get rid of me now, princess,” he smirked, teasing you again. 

This side of him made you faux scoff, “but what if I want to get rid of you?” You challenged, knowing well you weren’t capable of that. 

He took a step closer to you, his broad smile illuminating the room, his hand resting on your waist pulling you closer, “I’d like to see you try and escape me,” he retorted. 

“You want me that much, huh?” Your smile was coy. 

He brushed your nose tip with his, making you chuckle with joy. 

“I’ll always want my princess.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added <3

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[eternally-racing]

superbowl sunday | logan sargeant

pairing: logan x reader

genre: fluff

wk: 1k (short n sweet xoxo)

summary: you want to do something special for your homesick boyfriend when he misses one of america's favorite unofficial holidays.

----

With the new season just around the corner, the Williams team was in full force putting together their finishing touches on pre-season testing and meetings. Unfortunately for you, that meant that Logan was putting in long hours at the factory, with the most you’re seeing of him sometimes being just his imprint on the bedsheets in the morning since he leaves so early in the morning and comes back even long after you go to sleep. 

Moving to Oxfordshire was a big step for the both of you. For Logan it was a no-brainer, even choosing to buy a place instead of renting helped show his commitment to the team, and how could you have possibly said no to him when he asked for you to join him? After all, in his words you are is home, no matter where he is in the world. While Logan may be used to living the European life, moving away from your all-American home was definitely a big culture shock. There were of course fun new experiences - first time getting lost in a new city, trying new cafes that you knew you would subsequently come to every week, and seeing the beautiful sights. At the same time there were the moments that absolutely tore you up to be away from home - Logan cried as he held you on Thanksgiving when all you really wanted was to be able to eat your mom’s Turkey stuffing, but then he subsequently called your mom and got her to send you a frozen portion in the mail. It only arrived 2 weeks later and there was a definite chance that the stomachache you got afterwards may have been due to it being slightly spoiled by the time it made it to your dinner table, but the action itself definitely warmed your heart. Even though you were definitely the baby when it came to missing home, you knew that there were a couple of days that got to him and today was definitely one of them. 

Logan’s back ached as he finally got out of what felt like a 10 hour long meeting about company branding that he couldn’t care less about. The one thing he’s grateful for is the plethora of window panes at the factory - if he’s going to be stuck inside all day it’s at least nice to see the sun rise and set each day over the horizon. There are some days where Formula 1 doesn’t feel as worth it, where he wishes that he was in his backyard in Florida playing soccer with his brother, his dad on grill while his mom nags them about not wearing enough sunscreen, but on days like that he at least gets to see you, usually. If only he had time to see you right now. If he rushed back to your apartment right now he would probably at least catch you getting ready for bed, but it feels selfish to keep you up sometimes. He knows just how much you sacrificed to be here with him, including working a remote job in a timezone that meant that you were up at the worst of hours for team meetings.

He expects to walk into a dark apartment, just like he has for the last 3 weeks - but instead he’s met with a completely different sight. 

It’s you, which is a sight enough to bring a smile to his face. But it’s not just you, but you’re surrounded by a a scene that he can only describe in two words. While he’s rendered speechless, you’re happy to steal the words from his mouth. 

“Happy Superbowl Sunday, babe.” 

Your apartment has all the staples from back home; chicken wings, seven layer dip, beer. If Logan’s  nutritionist took a look at your dining table right now he would probably have a heart attack, but Logan could care less about that right now. 

“I really lucked out that both teams have the color red so I only had to buy one color of balloons to cover my bases.” you giggle as Logan picks you up and spins you around. There’s tears starting to pool at the corner of his eyes and you understand the emotion you see in them all too well.

"I -, wow - , how did you - , I can't believe -" the words keep stumbling out of Logan's mouth as he's just in complete awe of what you pulled off for him.

You both take a second to cherish the moment, that the two of you get to do this together after so many weeks of not seeing each other. But soon after that you both settle onto the couch with more snacks than you could possibly ever consume surrounding the two of you on all sides. 

You’re actually only watching a recording of the game with how the time differences worked out, and it’s actually Monday night, late enough to be almost Tuesday in England by the time you turn on the television - but Logan is far too sleep deprived and overworked to notice. There’s definitely a non-zero chance he falls asleep by the time the 3rd quarter even starts, but you’re happy to at least fall asleep together as you cuddle into his side.

“Also we are cheering for…” Your voice trails off as a question since you actually have no idea who Logan likes out of these two teams.

“The 49ers babe, you would love them too if you knew the backstory” 

His comment makes you curious and while you’re scared of the can of worms you may be opening of being mansplained the history of the entire NFL, you ask him to explain and luckily he keeps it short and sweet.

“You always love cheering for an underdog, Y/N,” Logan says with a smile.

--

author's note: my new roman empire is the fact that logan was cheering for brock purdy in the super bowl 🥲 hope you all enjoyed this lil bit of logan fluff, until next time! - Em 🩷

[miguelschamp]

paper rings

pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!reader

summary: stiles can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you

warnings: none

it was your 11th birthday and you were beyond excited.

your mom had been planning your party for weeks. making sure the theme you wanted was going to be perfect. she invited all of your friends from school, including your two best friends, scott and stiles.

you met scott and stiles in 2nd grade. you tripped and fell onto the wood chips as you were running toward the swing set. as tears blurred your eyes, you heard rapid footsteps coming toward you.

two boys bent down beside you and asked if you were okay before scott ran off to find a teacher. stiles stayed by your side reassuring you that you were okay. and from then on, you guys were friends.

you came down the steps in a pink dress covered in flowers. your hair done and jewelry littering your arms and hands. your mom smiled as you came down the steps.

“scott and stiles are here.” you say running toward the door

“how do you know ?”

“i saw them through my window.” you say swinging the door open. a smile spreads across your features as your friends walk toward the door. you run out towards them as your mom walks out onto the porch.

“happy birthday !” they say as you run toward them. you giggle as the three of you collide in a huge hug.

“thank you.” you smile pulling away. “today’s gonna be so much fun.”

“definitely.” scott says

“happy birthday, sweetie.” melissa says walking up behind the boys

“thank you, ms. melissa.” you beam. you feel your mom place her hand on your shoulder

“why don’t you guys go out back and play until everyone gets here ?” she says

you squeal as you and the boys run around to the backyard.

~

it was darker out now and your party in full swing. you’ve opened presents and had cake. now, everyone was mingling around until they decided to leave.

you had been up since early that morning and you were exhausted. you were running around all day and playing with your friends. ensuring that everyone felt included and was having fun.

now, you sat on a bench that you had in your backyard. everyone was running around in front of you and parents were laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

you look to your left as someone walks toward you. you smile brightly, “hi, stiles.”

“hey.” he says sitting beside you, “are you okay ?”

“yeah.” you nod, “i’m just really tired. i was awake really early this morning.”

“oh, well you had fun today, right ?”

“of course.” you smile before you lay your head on his shoulder. he lays his head on top of yours as you sigh, “today was the best day ever.”

stiles smiles before taking a deep breath, “y/n/n, i have another present for you.”

you sit up, “really ? you didn’t have to. the teddy bear was more than enough.”

when opening your first gift from stiles, you couldn’t believe he had gotten you a bear you had been talking about for months now. your mom had been looking all over for it and couldn’t find it. but, of course, stiles did.

“well, i just wanted to get you something extra for being my best friend.” he says. you smile softly as he digs in his pocket.

he holds his hand out to you. in it was a ring made out of paper. the “diamond” was colored in to imitate the shininess.

“i made it because my dad wouldn’t let me get an actual ring.” he says as you take it from him.

“i love it.” you laugh. it truly was amazing considering an 11 year old boy made it. as you slid it onto your ring finger you held your hand out to him.

“perfect.” he says, “maybe one day i can get you an actual one.”

you smile at him before wrapping your arms around his neck. he quickly hugs you back with a small smile on his face.

•••

you and stiles laid back against his jeep on the outlook of beacon hills. the sun was setting and stiles always made it his mission for the two of you to catch it since you once brought up how you loved them.

it was something that he’s tried doing since the two of you started dating. you guys had been dating for 3 years now. since freshman year of high school and the two of you couldn’t be happier.

your 4 year anniversary was coming up and stiles had something up his sleeve. the ring he gave you for your 11th birthday held significance for the both of you. he remembers you actually wearing and taking care of the ring for a couple of weeks before the “band” ripped.

you were devastated and thought stiles would’ve hated you for ruining his gift. safe to say he wasn’t and was actually shocked at how long the ring lasted.

so, you kept the ring in the box with the other jewelry you were collecting. it now sat in the back of your phone case. it was squished now, but it didn’t matter. it was your favorite.

you watch as he sits up before looking over at you. “yes ?” you say in a sing song voice

“i have a present for you.” he says. you furrow your brows as you sit up.

“okay.” you ask, “wait, our anniversary isn’t for a few months.”

“i know, but i couldn’t keep it from you anymore.” he chuckles as you smile, “y/n, you are the most amazing person i’ve ever met. you mean the world to me and going into senior year, i just want you to know how much i love you. i don’t think scott and i would’ve made it this far with our heads still on our shoulders without you. especially me.”

you laugh as tears behind to gather in your eyes. he lays his hand on your thigh, “you remember the ring i gave you for your birthday.”

you nod as you pull out your phone turning it over. showing off the old gift. “yeah.”

he says nothing as he digs in his pocket pulling out a box. you place your phone down as he holds it out to you. “stiles.”

“open it.” he says as you take it. he watches in anticipation as you open the box. you gasp as you see a shiny ring with a small diamond in the center.

“stiles.” you say softly. you turn to him as he smiles.

“that’s what the paper ring was supposed to look like.” he jokes

he gently takes the box from you. he takes the ring out before grabbing your left hand. he slides the ring onto your ring finger.

“it’s a promise ring.” he says as he rubs your knuckles, “for now until i can replace it.”

you look up at him as a tear falls onto your cheek. he takes no time in wiping it away before cupping your cheek.

“i love you so much.” you say as you sniffle

“i love you more.” he says before leaning in and kissing you gently.

[roosterforme]

Stud On Board | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: You're nervous to meet Bob's friends for the first time. Initially you think they are poking fun at you, but then you realize that's not the case. When it becomes obvious that it's your boyfriend they're picking on, you make it a point to let them know just how much of a stud he really is.

Warnings: Fluff, implied smut, swearing

Length: 2100 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader

Check my masterlist for more!

"I'm a little nervous to meet everybody," you whispered to your boyfriend as you zipped up his jeans. You wiped the corner of your mouth, making sure your lips were clean before climbing onto his lap. You'd gone on four dates with him before he very nervously asked you to be his girlfriend, and since then, for the past month, you'd been so happy.

"Don't be nervous, Sweetheart," he replied, leaning closer to kiss your nose as he cradled you between his body and the steering wheel of his truck. "Everyone is going to like you. What's not to like?"

"Bobby," you said, adjusting his crooked glasses on his nose. "They are a tight knit group. If one of them doesn't like me, none of them are going to like me."

"Well, I like you plenty," he promised, and you turned to look out the window at his friend Jake's house where the Memorial Day party was in full swing in the backyard. "And Nat knows I'm wild about you. She told me she's happy you're coming with me."

You kissed him softly and then opened the door and started to climb down with his help. "I can't believe I get to meet the famous Phoenix."

Bob laughed. "She's larger than life. Hang on tight." 

And you did. You laced your fingers through his and let him lead you around the cute little ranch house and into the cozy backyard. Someone was grilling, there was music playing, and you saw a couple of kids blowing bubbles. But before you could take in anything else, there was a woman with dark hair and wide brown eyes in your face. 

"Bob. She's stunning."

Your boyfriend chuckled and pulled you a little closer. "Sweetheart, this is Nat."

"Oh!" you said brightly. "I've been looking forward to meeting you!"

"Holy shit," Nat replied, just shaking her head. "Good job, Bob. I mean, it's nice to meet you," she said, offering her hand and shaking yours. "Bagman is grilling some burgers, and there are drinks in the cooler."

"You want me to get you something to drink?" Bob asked, pecking you on the cheek. 

When you nodded, you watched Nat drag him away as she whispered, "Fucking hell, Floyd. You could have warned us that your new girlfriend looks like that." 

You rolled your eyes. Nobody usually made much of a fuss over you. When you turned to see what the group of kids was up to, you nearly bumped into a tall man sporting a mustache. Like a pornstar from the 80s. You almost laughed as he said, "Hey, I know we didn't come here together, but how'd you like to leave with me?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, bursting out laughing. "Did you really just say that?"

He shrugged at you, looking very smug. "My name's Bradley. We haven't met before. I'd definitely remember you."

You told him your name, and you were about to add that you came here with Bob, but then your boyfriend strolled back over with two cans of beer. He handed you one and kissed your cheek again.

"Oh, Rooster, this is my girlfriend," Bob said, and you watched Bradley's jaw drop as he looked at you, his eyes dipping down below your neck to the top of your dress as he blushed. 

"Sorry," he muttered, and he fist bumped a confused looking Bob as he walked away. 

"What was that all about?" your boyfriend asked. 

"Nothing," you replied with a smile as you sipped your drink. "Can we get some food? I'm starving, and I need to put something in my mouth right now."

"Really?" Bobby asked, cheeks flushing as he ran his fingers along the back of your hand. "You didn't get your fill in the truck?"

"Bobby!" you gasped, always a little surprised when he said something dirty to you. He was such a gentleman... usually. "I got my fill of you in the truck, but I need to make sure I have energy for later." You winked, and he was practically tripping over himself as he followed you across the patio toward the grill.

And that was where you met Jake. "Hey, pretty lady," he drawled. His accent was southern and cute, but nothing like Bob's, which you'd already gotten used to hearing whispering the sweetest things while he made love to you. 

"Hi," you said carefully as he studied your face. You were already feeling like maybe you didn't get off to the best start here, and the look he was giving you felt like a confirmation. 

"Damn it, Bob," he groaned, turning to look at your boyfriend. "Well done." Then he handed you a burger and told you to help yourself to some potato salad and snacks on the picnic table. 

"I don't think they like me," you told Bob as you dumped some pretzels onto your plate and sighed. 

"They do!" he insisted. "Just give them a chance."

"I'm trying," you promised before you bit into your burger. And thankfully Phoenix came back over and started chatting with you which made you feel a lot better. She asked you about work and told you how good Bob was at his job.

"He always makes sure he keeps everyone safe," she said, looking at Bob with appreciation in her eyes. "He's a great team player."

You smiled at her as Bob blushed. "He told me I could come visit him on base someday," you said as you wrapped your arms around him. "I'd love to see your Super Hornet."

"Bob, you'll have to let her check out your cockpit one day," Nat said with a chuckle. "Maybe she's not familiar with that yet."

"Oh, I'm very familiar with that," you whispered, just for Bob, and his cheeks turned a deeper pink still. 

"Sweetheart," he muttered, and you promised him you'd behave. 

Then someone was reaching for your hand and pulling you away from him. "You're Bob's?" he asked. And before you even answered, he said, "I'm Fanboy. I mean Mickey. Come play horseshoes with me. I'm terrible and nobody else will be my partner."

You waved goodbye to Bob and Phoenix while you laughed and joined the game. "If you're terrible, what makes you think I'd want to be your partner?" you asked as he finally let go of your hand. 

"I'm sure you don't, but I didn't give you a choice. That's Payback and Coyote," Mickey told you, and two more men waved at you. "We're playing against them." 

"Damn," they said in unison before the taller one added, "You're Bob's new girlfriend?"

"Yeah," you said, waving awkwardly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Are you sure you didn't get lost or something?" Jake asked you when he strolled over. "Really? Bob?"

You looked at all the guys and then over to Bob on the patio. "What do you mean?" you asked Jake.

"Don't listen to them," Mickey said loudly, cutting him off and handing you a horseshoe. "They're just jealous."

"Jealous?" you asked, starting to feel sick. They didn't like you. For some reason, you'd done something wrong. You tossed the horseshoe, but it was a terrible throw, and now you were embarrassed. "Can I ask what I did wrong? Because Bobby is so sweet, and I really wanted to make a good impression on his friends."

Mickey's eyes went wide. "You didn't do anything wrong!"

And that's when you heard Payback tell Coyote and Jake, "It's like beauty and the geek. I don't understand how it happend."

"Are they talking about me?" you asked Mickey, and he parted his lips like he was going to say something to you, but he turned to them instead.

"Guys, knock it off."

"I don't understand," you whispered, and finally Mickey showed you some sympathy.

"They all think you're hot. And they can't believe you're dating Bob."

You felt warmth flood your cheeks, and the other horseshoe almost slipped from your fingers. "Oh."

"Seriously, just ignore them," Mickey said, shooting the others a nasty look. "I like you. Everyone likes you. Let's play horseshoes."

So you played for a little bit as his words started to sink in. It just didn't make any sense. Bob was every bit as handsome as the rest of them. And he was sweet. Even sweeter than Mickey, who was currently trying to include you in the conversation. And Bob was so funny; last night he had you laughing so hard you had hiccups. 

Not to mention, Bob gave you the best sex of your life. Sure, you hadn't been intimate with him for more than a few weeks, but he was very attentive. He gave you everything you asked for. 

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said and you turned to see him strolling up to you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wanted to kiss him until his glasses steamed up. 

"Bobby," you whispered, handing the horseshoes to Bradley so you could give him a proper hug. 

"You having fun?" he asked, rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your back. 

"Yes. Mickey and Phoenix are really nice. And the rest of them... I think they must grow on you over time?"

Bob started laughing and said, "You're not wrong."

"Hey, Four-Eyes, you and your girl want dessert?" Bradley asked, tossing one of the horseshoes up in the air and catching it.

"Um, y-yes," Bob said, clearly flustered now. 

"Four-Eyes?" you asked, scoffing at him. Were they making you feel a little awkward because they thought Bob was nerdy? "Wait, are you making fun of Bobby?"

At least Bradley had the decency to look a little embarrassed as you glared at him. "Yeah," he answered quietly.

"You think he's a nerd?" you asked the other guys, gesturing at Bob. 

Bradley shrugged. "Yeah, kinda." Jake, Coyote and Payback all looked like they wanted to agree.

You looked up at your boyfriend, and you could tell he was still embarrassed. He could barely meet your eyes as you pressed your palm against his chest. Then you could feel a smile creep across your face as you made sure you were loud enough for everyone to hear. "I think he's a stud." Then you kissed him hard in front of everyone, and sure his glasses were crooked when you were done, but you liked that about him.

"You do?" Bob asked softly. "A stud?"

You nodded up at him as you fixed his glasses. "You wanna leave, Bobby? I keep thinking about sucking your cock in the truck like I did earlier. I'm dying to feel your big dick down my throat again."

Jake let out a little strangled noise, and Bradley dropped a horseshoe on his own foot. Now the other guys were gaping at Bob, and they seemed to stand a little taller in his presence, suddenly impressed. 

Bob licked his lips and stared at you, completely entranced as you kissed his cheek. "Yeah. You know what, I think we should head out," he managed, his voice a little hoarse as he tightened his grip on you. 

"You're leaving?" Nat asked, walking over with a slice of cake. 

"Apparently Bob isn't as innocent as we thought," Hangman drawled, looking at your boyfriend with new appreciation. 

"It was nice to meet everyone," you told them, lacing your fingers through Bob's. "I'm going to go take care of Bobby. But maybe next time we can stay for dessert?"

"Make Bob bring you to the Hard Deck on Friday!" Nat called after you as you led him away. "I need more estrogen in my life!"

"Will you take me to the Hard Deck on Friday?" you asked him sweetly. 

"I'll take you anywhere you want, Sweetheart," he replied, still looking at you like he couldn't believe you were his.

You turned to wave and said, "See you on Friday!"

And then Bob pulled you close as he led you back toward his truck. "You didn't have to say all that stuff in front of them and call me a...stud. I'm used to them picking on me a little bit for being nerdy and having glasses and everything. I mean, I know it's true, Sweetheart."

You just laughed and shook your head at him. "Come here, stud." You pushed him up against the side of his truck and kissed him, slipping your tongue between his lips and tasting him. You rubbed yourself gently against the front of him and whispered, "Do I look like I deserve anything less than the sexiest, sweetest boyfriend?"

He swallowed hard and grunted, "No."

"That's what I thought. Now get in the truck, Bobby. I have something I want to show you."

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

Bob is a stud. Just try to argue with me about that fact. Thanks to @bradshawsbitch and @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls!

@beyondthesefourwalls

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@endofdays56

@avaleineandafryingpan

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@yanna-banana

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@shrimping-for-all

@xoxabs88xox

@cottagecori

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@chicomonks

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@ohgodnotagainn

@ahumanwallpaper

@paintlavillered

@roostette

@seitmai

@tigermoon3

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@cruelmissdior

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@angelbabyange

@milestellersgirl89

@annoyingsmartass

[bysaber]

Seeing snow for the first time ft. Ryomen Sukuna

Day 07 of 31 Days of Ficmas!

summary — your long-lived boyfriend doesn’t see the big deal about snow.

word count — 465

content — sukuna’s down bad, fluff, you call sukuna ryo, he calls you “woman” once and “love”

notes — i swear i didn’t plan this to come out on gojo’s bday??? i swear im a satoru girlie! happy bday my love :( also i never thought id write a fluff sukuna fic. let alone a down bad sukuna one lol

Ryomen Sukuna usually wakes up before you do.

It is actually rare for him to sleep, since he doesn’t need to, but having you snuggled up against him all night makes him indulge in such trivial things.

When he wakes, he stays in bed.

He doesn’t know why, he just stays. His crimson eyes flickering from the ceiling to your face, wondering how he ended up being a hostage of such a foolish emotion; love.

He never thought he would care so much for another being, let alone a weak human.

Your eyes flutter open and he’s still shamelessly staring at you. By now, you’ve got used to waking up like this – wake being watched, analyzed.

“Morning,” he says calmly, even though he’s not.

It infuriates him how you make him feel, even though you’re already his. He wants to drown in you.

You’re about to answer when something else catches your attention; you quickly look at the window, excitement boiling in your stomach when you see snowflakes falling from the sky, “Oh, my God!”

Sukuna frowns.

He follows your gaze, but still doesn’t understand what is happening, “What?”

“Ryo!” you squeak, jumping from the bed, “It’s snowing!”

You’re out of the room before he can process what you were saying.

Sukuna takes a few seconds before going after you, grabbing one coat from the closet on his way to find you in the backyard, looking up with a dreamy smile on your face.

“What’s with you, woman?” he asks gruffly, putting the coat on your shoulders. “Don’t forget your body limitations, you can catch a cold. Die from it.”

You chuckle as he complains like an old man, treating you like a porcelain doll he is too scared of breaking.

He is.

But you…

“I just want to see the snow, Ryo. Feel it,” you close your eyes, feeling the snowflakes falling upon your face. Happiness fills you – it is like living a dream.

“What is so special about snow?” he sounds softer now. Seeing how peaceful you look, the lazy smile on your face. He wants it there forever, he wants to watch it forever.

You are so intriguing.

Everyday. More and more.

“It’s my first time seeing it, I always wanted to…”

He lifts an eyebrow, surprised with that information.

Snow, something so trivial like frozen water falling from the sky, was enough to put a smile on your face. It was something you dreamed of.

“I’m glad I’m seeing it for the first time with you, Ryo.”

Sukuna wraps his arms around you, his warmth engulfing and comforting you, and places a kiss on your exposed neck. He’s drowning, but he wants to dive deeper.

“This is nothing compared to everything I’ll show you as long as you live, my love.”

[smoshyourheadin]

Maybe u could do a Spencer besties to lovers? Like they've known each other a long time yk

Thankssss no pressure if ur busy ofc <3

It’s Always Been You

cw: reader has a boyf who she breaks up w bc he’s an alchaholic!! don’t read if you aren’t comfortable, i’ll catch you another time ml 💛

a/n: EEK IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT ANON 🫶🫶💛💛 also im taking this as smosh spence not cm spence so feel free to re-request if you’d like <33 ps, ive written that he listens to pink floyd here so thats who syd barrett is if you don’t know :))

requests r open!!

///

pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader

florida, 2002

you and spencer were scurrying around in the freshly mown grass of his backyard, playing tag.

“you didn’t get me, you cheated!” you exclaim, ducking as he reaches out to get you again, tumbling to the floor.

“did too!” spencer retorts, his grazed knees dropping to the floor so he can lean over you. he meets your eyes, pulls a tongue, and hoists himself back up to run to his tyre swing.

all 11 years you’d known, you’d known them with spencer. your moms had been great friends since way before you were born, being in the same book club. or was it an art night? you didn’t exactly know, but you did know that because your moms were best friends, so were you and spencer.

as you sprung back up to your feet, your moms watched your antics through the kitchen window.

“whoever can swing the other the highest gets to have the last red popsicle!” he yelled as you ran over

“oh you’re so on!”

your hands gripped the tyre and you pushed like your life depended on it.

“y’know,” your mom said “one day, they’re going to end up together.”

his mom looked over at yours and smiled,

“i’d be surprised if they didnt honestly.”

los angeles, 2024

you walk through the door of your apartment, and you kick the door closed behind you. your bag slides off your shoulder, and you throw your keys onto the dresser next to the door. you only manage a long groan before flopping onto the couch.

“heya, charlie!” you scrunch your face up as you feel your dog’s cold, wet nose press against your cheek, as he gently wags his tail

“i missed you too boy, work was so tiring today.” you work at smosh with spencer, and have done for the past seven years after you left your job at another channel to join him. it was basically the best decision you’d ever made, every day filled with laughs; practically just a 24/7 hangout. you work with spencer on smosh games, but rarely ever go on camera, even if spencer’s there. you enjoy it anyway though.

you sit up and scratch behind his ears. he wiggles his body contently at your fondness. and then your stomach growls. it made sense, it was currently 6:43pm, and you last ate at noon, so you get up and drag yourself to make some mac n cheese.

as the pasta boils your phone starts ringing.

it’s james.

rubbing your hands over your face, you answer the dreaded call from your boyfriend james.

“heyyy~ sweetheart, y’doin okay? you were hic bein’ a bit of a bitch today, didnt answer my calls, what, you hate me or sumn?” he rambles, most of his words just slurring off.

“james, are you drinking again?” your voice is agitated, hearing the chattering and the low bass of a bar in the background.

you know he has a problem, and you’ve tried to get him to stop so many times. but you just can’t. he just won’t take your help.

“wha- i mean- well- no- but um- well y’r just gonna be mad at me like y’allways are” he stammers, not wanting to tell you the truth.

“no, i’m done with this. you say all this to me when you’re drunk, and then act like everything is fine! i’m sick of it! you spend so much time at the bar, and its the only place we ever go on dates, and i just end up babysitting you! so yeah i am mad! but for the last time! fuck you james.”

you hang up.

you start to tear up, the knot in your chest tight as your emotions come rushing to you, face heating up as tears begin to fall. the hissing of something behind you snaps you out of it.

“shit!” you rush over to to your stove, where the water from your pasta spills over the sides, the flames licking at the bottom of the pan.you take it off the heat and turn it off. it looks done anyway. you add some butter, and, of course, cheese. stirring gently, you sob.

james was so nice to you, always showering you with gifts and praise and love. but it was all for nothing. he just didn’t love you like he loved drinking in the end.

pouring the mac n cheese into a bowl, you call spencer.

“hey lemon! how’s my favourite person this fine evening?” you smile at the nickname.

florida, 2007

“spencer, you’re a boy. why are you so complicated? i mean, its just annoying!” you walk into his bedroom after his mom let you in, clearly pissed off. being 16 isn’t fun, especially when boys you like are rude to you.

“what did he do?” spencer doesn’t look up from his computer, just slightly turn his head.

“he said that i must eat lemons because of how bitter i am. i mean come on!” you lie on his bed and watch him play runescape.

“lemon… hmph” he just smiles and continues whatever he was doing on his game.

“what? nothing to say? ugh! you suuuuuck!”

los angeles, 2024

“yeah, i mean, no. i broke up with james.” you sniffle, and eat a forkfull of your food, elbows resting on the cold marble of the kitchen island.

“i mean- um- yeah thats horrible…” he says

“you’re allowed to celebrate, i know you hated him. and so did everyone. but still. im fragile right now!” you giggle through your gentle tears

“well, i mean, honestly? glad he’s gone. he sucked dude. not sure why you didn’t do it sooner. well, one positive to come of this, your pillows won’t stink of beer next time i nap at yours!” he replies, clearly happy for you.

“yeah,” you chuckle at the memory of spencer falling asleep on your bed, then completing his hair smelt like budweiser “that is true.”

“all seriousness though, are you okay?” his voice is genuine this time, filled with concern.

“no, not really. it’s just… different i guess. but, not much has changed y’know? like, it already felt like he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore…” you begin to ramble for at least 20 minutes, only to be met with the occasional ‘mhmn’ and ‘yeah’ from spencer. mid sentence, there’s a knock at your door.

“oh one sec, someone’s here.” you get up from your table and swing the door open to see a very sympathetic looking spencer, two target bags in his hands.

your jaw is on the floor. you were just crying to him over the phone, and he’d stayed whilst going out to get what you can only assume is things like sour patch kids and vanilla ice cream, which you could see at the top of the bag. your favourites.

“girls night?” he smirked and raised the bags at his sides.

all you can do is smile ear to ear, and wrap him in a tight hug. he leaned into you, basking in your sweet citrusy perfume.

“you’re my favourite, spencie.” you say into his shoulder.

as you both walk inside, charlie comes bounding over to spencer, his favourite person.

“who’s a good boy! charlie is!” spencer was now crouchedby your kitchen island, fussing over your dog as you walked to put on something more comfortable. you slid on some track pants and an old atari hoodie. walking back into your kitchen, spencer has unpacked the bags, and is creating his favourite conconction, The Agnew Sundae. basically the most sickeningly sweet ice cream ever. his dad made it for you both in the summer, and it consisted of:

vanilla ice cream

chocolate syrup

caramel sauce

whipped cream

sprinkles

mini marshmallows

chocolate chips

m&ms

and some crushed oreos to finish.

god, you know you’re going to regret this later, but boy was it a good way to cheer you up.

also strewn on the counter was his switch and copy of animal crossing, a few of his dvd’s for you to watch, and his mom’s chocolate chip cookies.

“spencer, how on earth did you get these? your mom lives across the country!” you hold up the baggie, and raise an eyebrow.

he looks up from his ice cream assembly station, and smirks.

“a magician never- ow!”

you cut him off by lightly jabbing his arm

“okay okay, she visited not to long ago - when she took you to the mall? and she gave me these to freeze and keep for an important event. i think she’d agree this is important.” you cant help but smile at his remark. you missed you moms.

“i’ll have to ring her later to thank her.” you say.

the night goes on, and you and spencer sit on the couch under a blanket watching barbie princess charm school. because what else are you going to watch?

as the movie goes on, and the effects of the agnew sundae kick in; you were dozing off on his shoulder. towards the end of the movie, so does he. he drifts off, comforted by your soft hair occasionally brushing against his face.

you stir awake, the sun beaming into your eyes through your semi-open blinds, and you’re hit by a wave of memory. everything that happened last night comes flooding back.

james’ call.

spencer’s call.

spencer showing up for you.

at the latter, you smile slightly. you prop yourself up on the sofa, and notice the absence of spencer’s warmth by you. frowning slightly, you walk into the kitchen.

“morning sleepyhead” his sweet voice rings through the room

“hey. i thought you’d’ve gone home”

“no, im not that mean! who do you take me for?” he retorts, his attention turning back to the pancakes on the stove.

“pancakes? what time is it?” you come up behind him, putting your chin on his shoulder.

“yeah, and it’s about 10:30.” he leant his head on yours, flipping one. you had to admit, they look pretty good.

“10:30!?” you lift you head in surprise, looking at your phone “shouldn’t we be in work?”

“nope, i called us in sick. said my mom was having surgery. which she is, but i made it sound dramatic so we could stay off.” he looks at you, and smiles slightly.

“well, send her my love! i think i’ll go get dressed now.” he hummed, and you left the room.

opening your closet, you pick out a yellow baggy t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. you pull on some fluffy socks, and slip on a zip up hoodie. walking back out into the living room, spencer walks in with two plates piled high with pancakes, drenched in syrup and strawberries

“so,” you say, a fork full of pancakes in your mouth. “whats the plan for today?”

he looks over at you, and shrugs slightly. “not sure, we could go to the book store you like?”

“ah, you know the way to a girl’s heart“ you put a hand over your chest and giggle a bit.

a few hours later, you walk into the store, door creaking just a bit as a small brass bell chimes overhead. the air is filled with a comforting mix of old paper, leather bindings, and a hint of freshly brewed coffee from the corner cafe that you and spencer like to get tea from. you breathe it in deeply, a sense of calm washing over you. as you walk over the creaky wooden floorboards beneath you, soft warm light filters down from antique lamps, and cast a gentle glow over the rows of books. you ghost your fingertips over the cloth spines while the quiet murmur of whispered conversations and the occasional rustling of pages create a soothing background noise, almost like a lullaby. through spencer’s airpods, syd barrett serenades you both, and his voice blends seamlessly with the ambiance of the store.

“anything good today lemon?” spencer says as he shimmies up next to you in the aisle of towering book shelves, his voice like honey rolling off his tongue. his hair was unruly as always, but he looked so pretty in this light. his face was littered with freckles that you wish you could kiss. he’s smiling at you, and it snaps you back to reality, and reminds you of the fact you’re staring at him

“uh, yeah, i think i’ll get this one” you smile back, holding up a copy of memoirs of a geisha by arthur golden

“cool, shayne likes that one i think. but he likes every book so…” he smiles at his own remark “um, you want me to grab our normal seats in the cafe while you pay for that?”

“yes, please!” you reply eagerly, smiling as he walked off.

you walk up to the cashier, an older lady who always gives you a bookmark.

“thank you m’darlin’, have a lovely day!”

“you too mrs bryson!” you reply, heading over to spencer who’s sat in some plush leather armchairs. as you sit in comfortable silence with him, time seems to slow down, and for a moment, it's just you, spencer, the books, and the comforting atmosphere of this charming bookstore.

“i got you your sweet tea.” he says, handing you a plastic cup filled with your favourite tea.

he remembered.

fuck.

you were in love with spencer agnew, and it took you him handing you your favourite tea to realise it.

“thanks spence.” you say, still grasping the feelings in your chest.

while you read you book and drink your tea, you feel your attention drifting to him. you can't help but glance up from the pages every now and then, watching him as he sits across from you, his focus on his own book. his fingers absently tracing the rim of his coffee mug, his brow furrowing as he reads. the way the sunlight filters through the small window, casting a warm glow across his hair, highlighting the subtle streaks of lighter brown among his dark curls. you find yourself smiling at the sight of him, wondering when these small, mundane moments began to mean so much to you. the bookstore is quiet, aside for the murmur of others reading or talking in hushed tones. yet, with spencer sitting just a few feet away, the world feels like it's faded to the background. it's just you and him, sharing this space, this moment. you watch the way his lips move slightly as he reads, how he occasionally tilts his head in concentration, and the way his eyes light up when he finds something particularly interesting. as he looks up and catches you watching him, you feel a rush of warmth spreading through your chest. he smiles at you, a slow, easy smile that makes your heart skip a beat. he raises an eyebrow, and you quickly look back down at your book, feeling your cheeks flush. but you can't help it; your gaze finds its way back to him, like he's the most interesting story in the room. he seems to notice the shift in the air between you. he closes his book and leans forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

“everything okay?” he asks, his voice gentle, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity.

“yeah,” you reply, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “just... glad to be here with you.”

he nods, his smile growing a bit wider. “me too.”

as he settles back into his chair, you realize that this simple exchange has changed something. the air feels lighter, the connection between you stronger. you may have come here to read and relax, but now, sitting across from spencer, you know you've found something else entirely - something you never want to let go of.

as you leave the store, you’re panicking slightly as you realise you don’t know what to do. so instead you make up an excuse.

“i forgot my keys ," you blurt out, looking back at the bookstore. it's a thin excuse, but spencer doesn't seem to notice. he simply nods, a hint of concern in his eyes.

"do you want me to wait for you?" he asks, already reaching for his phone to check the time.

"no, it's fine," you reply quickly. "you can go ahead. i’ll just be a minute."

spencer seems reluctant to leave, but he nods, offering a warm smile before stepping out onto the street. you watch him walk away, his figure blending into the crowd as he heads toward the main crossing. your heart sinks a little as he disappears from view, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse.

the bookstore feels different now. the warm glow and soft murmurs are still there, but without spencer, it's like the color has faded a bit. you stand by the door, uncertain of what to do next. you could go back outside, catch up with him, and just say it. tell him how you feel. but the words seem stuck in your throat, and the thought of laying your feelings bare feels like too much, too soon.

you step back inside, pretending to look for something you might have left behind. the stacks of books seem to stretch endlessly in front of you, a maze of comforting distractions. you wander through the aisles, hoping to calm your racing thoughts, but all you can think about is spencer - his smile, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the warmth of his voice.

eventually, you find a quiet corner and sit down, closing your eyes for a moment. you know you have to do something. you can't just let him walk away without knowing how much he means to you. but the fear of rejection, of changing everything, feels overwhelming.

you realize you need time to sort through your feelings, to figure out the best way to approach this. with a heavy heart, you decide to make your way home, hoping the familiar surroundings will bring clarity. as you step out onto the street, the cool breeze brushes against your skin, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside you.

on the journey home, you replay the moments with spencer in your mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of how much he means to you. you know you can't keep hiding your feelings, but you also know you need to approach this with caution. as you unlock the door to your apartment, you make a silent promise to yourself—to take the time you need, to listen to your heart, and to find the courage to follow where it leads, even if it means risking everything for him.

when you get home, spencer tries calling you as he paces around his bedroom, his phone pressed against his ear. the ringing continues, but there's no answer. he frowns, feeling an uneasy twist in his stomach. maybe you're still in the bookstore. maybe your phone is on silent, or maybe you're just busy. he tells himself there's a reasonable explanation, but the doubt lingers.

as he walks to his kitchen, he dials again. this time, the call goes straight to voicemail. his instincts tell him something isn't right. the keys excuse felt odd, and your hurried departure only amplifies his worry. he takes a moment to think, then leaves his apartment, jumps in his car, starts the engine, and drives toward your apartment.

the streets pass in a blur as he navigates through the evening traffic, his mind racing with possibilities. he finds a parking spot near your building and heads to your door. the hallway is quiet, save for the distant sound of a tv from a neighbouring apartment. he takes a deep breath and knocks.

nothing.

he knocks again, this time a little louder. the knot in his stomach tightens. what if something's wrong? what if he's too late? he knocks a third time, and this time, he hears a faint rustling from inside. the door opens slowly, and there you are, standing in the doorway with a look of surprise and confusion.

"spence?" you say, blinking at him as if he's the last person you expected to see.

"i - i was worried," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "you didn't answer your phone, and i - i didn't know if you were okay."

you tilt your head, trying to process why he's here. his eyes search yours, and you can tell he's anxious, almost desperate to explain himself. "i'm fine," you say, "just had some stuff to think about."

he nods, but you can see he's not entirely convinced. there's something else, something deeper. he takes a step back, as if he's about to leave, but then he hesitates. "i - i have to tell you something," he blurts out, his words coming out in a rush. "i like you. like a lot. like i think i love you? and i know it might be weird, and i don't want to mess things up, but I just had to say it - because i couldn't keep it to myself anymore.”

he looks at you, his eyes full of emotions you can't quite decipher yet. you nod, urging him to continue, even though your own heart is racing. there's something in his gaze that makes you realize this isn't just any confession - this is something that's been building for a long time.

"i've liked you since we were kids," he says, almost breathlessly. "i mean, you were always the coolest person I knew. you didn't care what anyone else thought. you were smart and funny and just... so genuinely kind. i remember when we used to ride our bikes around the neighbourhood, and you'd always be the first one to try something new. like, remember when you climbed that huge tree in mr lawson's yard just because you wanted to see the view from the top? i thought you were so brave."

he chuckles softly, his gaze softening as he reminisces. "and then, when we got older, you were always there for me. when my parents split up, and i felt like everything was falling apart, you were the one who came over with a pizza and just listened. you didn't try to fix it; you just let me talk. that's something i've always loved about you. you're a great listener, and you care about people. like, really care."

he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes locking with yours. "it's not just that, though. It's the little things, too. the way you laugh at the dumbest of angela’s jokes, the way you get excited about your favorite books, and how you always know the right thing to say when I'm feeling down. you make everything feel... lighter, you know? like, even when things are tough, you find a way to make it better."

spencer pauses, his voice growing more earnest. "so yeah, i've um, been holding onto this for a while, and i just, couldn't keep pretending that i didn't feel this way. i like you - a lot. and i don't know if you feel the same way, but i just couldn't not tell you anymore."

he takes a step back, the tension in his shoulders indicating that he's prepared to leave if needed. "i don't want to make things weird between us. if you don't feel the same, that's okay. i just had to say it, because you're the best thing in my life, and i can't keep acting like you aren't."

his confession takes you by surprise, but as he speaks, you feel a surge of warmth in your chest. the words you were struggling to say are suddenly so clear, so obvious. you watch as he starts to turn away, his shoulders slumping in resignation. before he can take another step, you grab his arm and pull him back, your lips pressing against his in a gentle, yet desperate kiss.

he freezes for a moment, stunned by your sudden action, then his arms wrap around you, pulling you close. when you finally break the kiss, you look into his eyes, and there's no doubt, no hesitation.

"it's always been you," you whisper, your voice soft but sure. "you're my person, spencer."

he hugs you tightly, his grip firm and comforting, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. it's a perfect moment, one that feels like the beginning of something new, something beautiful.

and as you stand there in each other's embrace, you know that everything's going to be okay, because you have each other. and that's all that matters.

[tellmyah]

I always see dbf!Abby but never dbf?reader🏃🏽‍♀️‍➡️🏃🏽‍♀️‍➡️maybe? Idk

༉‧₊˚. — this is so genius??? thank you anon ily

it all starts when you notice a middle-aged man with dirty blonde hair outside of the house across the street from yours, a look of disappointment on his face. he has many potted plants, maybe too many, and over half of them are dying. you stroll over to his front yard and he wastes no time in expressing his frustration to you, a total stranger who had just moved here with your family a few weeks ago.

“i just don’t get it. i water them every single day. it’s not like they aren’t getting enough sunlight, right?”

you hum in acknowledgment, and he steps aside to allow you to take a look for yourself. it’s almost comical how quickly you notice the cause of his problem.

“it has nothing to do with the amount of sunlight or water they’re getting, actually. look at the soil of the ones that are dying.” you kneel down to feel the soil of one droopy plant in particular– a bunch of faded red petunias– and gather some soil between your fingers. “dry as a desert.”

you spend the rest of your day helping jerry replace the soil in the effected pots over some pleasant small talk, in which he confides in you that ever since his wife passed away, he’s been struggling to upkeep her impressive garden. the hard work is done by the time the sun sets, and he invites you in to wash your hands and have a glass of water.

that’s the very first time you get to meet abby.

she’s about your age, standing at nearly six feet tall. even in her sweatpants and baggy t-shirt, you can tell that she’s made of pure muscle. initially, when she walks down the stairs and sees a random girl in her kitchen, having a conversation with her father about invasive plant species in seattle, she’s puzzled, but she recognizes you fairly quickly.

she remembers watching from her bedroom window while you helped your mom to drag a couch in through the front door. she remembers going outside to check the mailbox and seeing you, sitting on your porch, feet propped up on the short wooden fence with a book in your hands. she could never seem to take her eyes off of you any chance she got to see you, so, when she sees you standing in her home, she completely freezes. luckily for her, jerry rushes to introduce the two of you.

“i didn’t even know you were home, sweetie! abby, this is y/n. y/n, this is abby, my daughter.”

“hey,” she extends a hand, “i’m abby.”

you smile as you reach for her hand and shake it. “bet you can’t guess what my name is.”

abby’s nose scrunches up as she realizes her mistake, completely aware that she isn’t thinking straight. she can’t be too embarrassed, though. not with the way your eyes scan her from head to toe like a predator sizing up its prey. “cut me some slack, i haven’t had my coffee yet. anyways, why are you both covered in dirt?”

the night ends with jerry scolding abby for making coffee so late, and thanking you for all of your help before sending you home with a homemade chocolate chip muffin.

since then, jerry shows up at your door when he needs help or simply has a question about gardening, and you never hesitate to help him. he’s a respectable man who just wants to honor his wife’s memory, to keep something of hers alive even if it isn’t her.

within a few months, his garden is looking lively and vibrant and noticeably healthy. after a few more months, he’s able to do everything you’ve taught him on his own, but you still come visit a few times a week to see how it’s going.

each and every time, abby finds some excuse to talk to you. you aren’t blind to it, but you certainly aren’t opposed to it. she’ll compliment your hair, your outfit, thank you for helping her dad with something so important to him, and anything else she can say to get you to stick around longer.

it isn’t much longer until jerry invites you to a barbecue in his backyard. an hour into it, he’s standing with a few of his friends around the grill, some neighborhood kids are playing with water guns in the yard, and you can’t help but notice his daughter’s absence.

you excuse yourself to the restroom in the middle of a gossip session with a few older ladies from around the block. however, the first thing you do when you step inside is beeline up the stairs and toward abby’s room.

of course, you knock first, and hear a muffled “come in” from the other side of the door. you enter, and see abby sitting on her bed with her laptop open, clearly drowning in her college work. her messy blonde hair is in a low bun, and her body is engulfed by a sweatshirt that is at least two sizes too big for her. she glances up, notices it’s you, and immediately straightens her slouched posture. “oh. y/n, uh… hey. you look nice. like, really nice.”

“nice enough to make you come join the party?”

“not that nice. i’m dying over here.” she vaguely gestures to her laptop.

“you’re pretty for a dead girl.” you hum, walking over to sit next to her and take a look at the laptop. there’s a concoction of mathematical problems plastered on the screen from top to bottom. your eyes hurt just looking at it. “oh, abby, you poor thing. all i can do is pray for you.”

“why do i need to know what a logarithm function is? and since when is there limits to infinity? i thought the whole point of infinity is that it’s limitless.”

you decide to cut her off before she can get any more worked up than she already is. “what’s your major?”

“pathology. which, mind you, has nothing to do with logarithm functions.”

you huff out a laugh. “pathology… what’s that? something medical, right?”

“yeah, pretty much just the study of diseases.”

“that’s hot.“

abby stares at you blankly, and you stare right back. clearly, you have her full attention now. “why do you always do shit like that?”

“like what?”

“like, you know… ‘that’s hot,’ shit like that.” she says, trying her luck at a very bad impression of you. “calling me pretty. staring at me.”

“because i think you’re pretty, and i like staring at you.” you answer simply. “why? want me to stop?”

“i didn’t say that.”

you smile, eyes studying her flustered face, the pout on her parted lips and the reddening blush across her cheeks.

just as she thinks you’re finally going to make a move, you stand up from your spot on her bed and begin heading toward the door. “well, it’s always nice talking to you, abby, but i gotta get back to the party before linda thinks i abandoned her.”

“what– who’s linda?” she tilts her head.

“the lady from down the street. you know, the one with the blue eyeshadow and smoker’s cough.”

abby scoffs at the description. “oh, right. linda. do you really have to go?”

you lean against the doorframe and cross your arms. “i don’t know. what would happen if i stayed?”

this questions seems to leave abby at a loss for words. is there even a right answer? she could be reading too far into this, and end up looking like a creep if she spoke her mind– but then again, she could be missing out on a golden opportunity if she doesn’t. she’s wanted you for as long as she’s known you, that’s completely true, but saying it out loud is something different.

after a long few moments of silence, you stand upright once more and reach for her doorknob. “thought so.”

with that, you shut her door and join the party downstairs once more, leaving abby alone with a million thoughts and feelings. she can’t focus on her work. she can’t focus on anything other than the way you smelled, sitting so close to her. how soft your skin looked, how she gets goosebumps just thinking about your voice.

once the party has died down and she’s done helping her dad clean up, she rushes back up to her room (and puts away all of the schoolwork she never got to), so that she can send you a simple message from her phone.

can you come over?

[carpe-aurore]

On rose bushes

Back when I was a kid, when we lived with my monster of a stepfather, we had a rose bush in front of our house. I remember I loved that thing, since it was the only plant that would grow in our home. Anything I tried to put in the ground died almost immediately. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, ever grew in there. But this beautiful, huge red rose bush did. It thrived, even. I took care of it everyday, watered it, trimmed it. And every spring, it grew the most gorgeous and fragrant red roses. The petals would cover the whole front yard. You could smell the fragrance halfway down the street. My stepfather hated it, since he would always get scratched by a stray branch when he walked through the front door. We joked that the rose bush only hated him, cause it never happened to anyone else. Years later, after having enough of all the abuse, we moved out. That week was the week that the rose bush was about to bloom again for the spring. We came back at the end of the week to get the rest of our things and found the rose bush halfway dried and dead. It had not been tampered with, as far as we could tell. Nothing has been poured on it, or sprayed. It seemed to have just shriveled up in just a matter of days.

We moved in with my grandmother while we got back on our feet. She's always had a green thumb, and had the most beautiful garden in her backyard. She had a tiny, scraggly rose bush next to the window of my room, and told me that she had no idea what the color of the flowers were since it had never bloomed once in all the years she had lived in that house. But she told me I could try to take care of it if I wanted, and so I did. I watered it, trimmed it, and watched it slowly grow. The next spring she shouts at me from the backyard, excited as she's ever been, telling me to come look. Tiny buds are growing all over it. They bloomed into gorgeous little red roses. We both were so excited at seeing such tiny flowers. A couple of years after we moved out of her house, she tells me it never bloomed again after we left.

While we were still living with my grandmother, a friend from church approaches us and tells us she and her husband are renovating a house to put up for rent. They invite us to come take a look so we can see if we would like to live there. As she's giving us a tour, she tells me there is a rose bush out in the backyard that the previous owners had planted. She says it's very likely to die, since the weather has been hot and it had begun to shrivel up. But she knows I love roses, and tells me I'm more than welcome to try and revive it when we move in. We pack up our things from Grandma's and with the help of many friends and family, arrive at our new home. She tells me she'll be back at the end of the month to cut down the rose bush if it's dead. For the next month, waking up early each morning surrounded by halfway unpacked boxes, I get up to water the rose bush. I trim away at the dead foliage, and feel how much I have sacrificed to get there. I wipe my tears with hands that smell of cut leaves. I still remember the shock on her face when she arrived, garden shears in hand, to see a rose bush full of new green growth and tiny rosebuds. It bloomed into beautiful, bright red roses. We have lived here for about 7 years, and this rose bush has tripled in size since then. I water it, I trim it. I harvest the blooms each spring to place them in vases around the house, to gift to friends. I make rose jam out of the petals. I make rose tea to drink. Petals cover our whole backyard every time it blooms. The little girl that trimmed the rose bush has grown up, but the petals smell as sweet as always. And she's there as a woman now, harvesting the life she couldn't have before. She places a petal in her mouth and she thinks the roses taste especially sweet this year.

[misstycloud]

How to stop your husband from being weird: situation one- digging in the middle of the night.

One of the things that I have noticed about my dear husband, Arlo (bless his soul), is the constant digging in our backyard; he leaves in the middle of the night and when I dare glance out the window, I see him. His back is always facing towards me, so I can’t get a good look at his face. He is a very expressive person and I can tell what he thinks from simply looking at his face, hence why this is somewhat concerning.

Had I known that my dearest would wake up during ungodly hours of the night, get dressed, fetch the garden tools from the shed, and then proceed to dig a massive hole, then maybe I would have hesitated to say ‘yes’. (Do not be worried, I love my husband deeply and this was just a little joke.)

Joke aside, it is still very annoying. Does he not know this will keep me awake too? I have work to do and I can’t keep on going if my sleep is this disturbed. I would have to be some sort of abomination- a vampire perhaps?

That is not all; I find dirt particles inside our house; I clean for nothing apparently.

I have tried bringing this up(somewhat hard to ask your spouse why they are leaving you all cold and lonely in the middle of the night) with Arlo, but every time he changed the subject. The audacity! He even asks me if I’m ill and is in need of a doctor. I tell him ‘I am quite fine thank you very much!’ and remind him my eyesight is good, I’m not imagining things and I know he’s been up to something in the yard. I also know he’s not preparing to pot new plants for summer so he better not try that with me.

Last time I tried prying the answer out of him, he finally relented and gave me what I wanted.

His explanation: I have been finding a lot of roadkill and other deceased animals lately. I didn’t want you to have to see it. You know I work so many hours, I don’t have time during the day, that’s why I bury them at night. It’s horrible, but understandable since they’re rebuilding the library and trucks loaded with materials drive by often.

Whether I believe this explanation or not doesn’t matter. There is factor agreeing with his explanation and there are ones that goes agaisnt it.

Those vouching for him: it is true that trucks drive by often these days since the library really did catch on fire recently. It was an unfortunate accident casued(according to the police) by some teenagers. They played around with a lighter and things escalated beyond their control. The saddest part is that I can’t go to the library anymore, I suppose I’ll have to find new hobbies to entertain myself until the library is rebuilt and restocked with books. Another thing is that I do like animals and it definitively wouldn’t be fun to see a run-over one in real life. My husband is very caring and wouldn’t expose me to something he knows I hate, therefore it makes sense for him to bury them in secret. Besides, his job is demanding and he actually wouldn’t be able to do so in the day.

All of this form one solution that is: burying the dead animals in secret from his wife(me) during nighttime as to not disturb me or his work hours. (If we look away from the fact I wake when he does)

Factors indicating he’s lying: how come I have never found a roadkill if they are so common nowadays? It’s unusual for him to come home before me, and if he’s that busy with work, it wouldn’t make sense for him to find all of them before I’ve even caught a whiff of something foul nearby. You see what I mean? Secondly, there is not reason why he should be the one doing all this work. Surely there are professionals dealing with here things? In that case then he should call them instead and tell those truck-drivers to be more careful.

Ultimately this is very suspicious, but what else can I do? Statistically, there is a high chance(I believe?) that your husband will have at least one weird hobby. I will have to live with that and I have said to him ‘I love you more than anything and if this is something you wish to do then o won’t question you.’

He was almost in tears, it was adorable. He said, ‘Yes, my love, thank you. I also love you more than anything in this world and I would be damned if something came between us.’

Afterwards I lectured him on not bringing in dirt in the house again, though. This was his answer: of course not, my darling!

To summarise this incident: my husband still visits the outdoors at night, however not as often as before. I warned him, too, of being careful because a bunch of men have been going missing lately and I’d be devastated if his name came up on of of those reports. I shouldn’t say this- but I will- I’m kind of happy those men are gone. I recognised their names and/or faces from the papers, you see. It turns out that all of them were ones I’d met previously. I won’t bore you with the details, but they weren’t pleasant encounters.

Everyday I have checked the floor for dirt and have found none. This is very good news for my ‘cleaning-spirit’. Whenever I feel Arlo leaving the bed I have decided to relax my mind and go back to sleep again. Then, if I’m still half-awake, I will feel him laying down beside me once more and together we drift off to dreamland.

The lesson I learned from this is that you don’t have to ‘fix’ everything about your partner, and they are allowed to have their special hobbies. There is a difference if you’re being harmed in the process, though. If that’s the case then you should immediately speak up about it and you compromise. Remember, communication is key!

———

Written by: (Y/n) (L/n)

[karvroom]

10 Things I Hate About Katsuki Bakugo

◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥

⇦ 001. English Literature is a Pain in the Ass

002. Your Overgrown Hatred for Assholes

It was high afternoon when school was released at U.A High. Which meant the sun was beating down on everyone, but it wasn't as hot as the past few months, which you were grateful for.

You were walking out of the courtyard and into the parking lot with your best (and only) friend, Jiro. She twiddled her thumbs as you two strut across empty parking spaces. She always had an earbud in her ear; the only way you would catch her without one was if she were dead. You two shared a lot of female music artists in common, which is what initially brought you two together. That and her incredible sense in style that you ogle over.

You were content with the silence you both had while walking until a bright red car pulled up next to you, almost blocking your way to the driver's side of your car. Kaminari stopped you dead in your tracks.

"Hey. Your little Rambo look is out, (Y/N)." Kaminari looked as dumb as ever in his position. His hair falling in his face as had one hand on the steering wheel of the car. "Didn't you read last month's Cosmo?"

"Run along." You rolled your eyes, flicking your wrist at him to move forward. He shook his head, rolling away in his loud, obnoxious car in defeat.

As you and Jiro got in the car you couldn't help but think how much of a prude you had to be to get Kaminari to leave you alone. The boy has been dick riding you ever since the ninth grade. You were seniors now. It was starting to get embarrassing on his part.

After you buckled your seatbelt, you looked forward, only to see Kaminari talking to your sister. If only you could listen in on what they were saying—you doubt it was any good, but you wanted to protect Mina from any scum at all costs.

"Oh, boy." You sighed seeing Mina and her friend, Ochako, step into the back seat of Kaminari's car. They sped off. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened at the sight.

"That's a charming new development." Jiro sneered. She shared your hatred for Kaminari; just another reason why she's your friend.

"It's disgusting." You seethed. You turned the key in the ignition, starting your car. You started to drive forward from the parking space, but was stopped by some idiot on a bike. You stuck your head out the window, shouting at the boy, "Remove head from sphincter, then drive!"

He shakily nodded, moving out of your line of sight. The engine roared as you pressed on the gas pedal. You couldn't wait to get home, excited to start a new book you'd recently picked up.

"Do you actually think your sister is going to start going out with that guy?" Jiro asked, watching you drive into her neighborhood, which was close to the school. She never asked for a ride to school, but it was an afterschool ritual for you and her to drive home together.

A snort escaped from your perfectly plump and soft lips, "Yeah, right. Over my dad's dead body."

"Your old man is so strict."

"He's an idealist." You allowed your arm to fall out the window, resting it against the car door as you drove down Jiro's street. The houses in her neighborhood all looked the same, lacking any sense of character. You stopped the car, waving to your friend as she shut the door.

Jiro waved back, slinging her book bag over her left shoulder. She shot you a dampened smile, "Same time tomorrow?"

"As always." You put the car in drive, doing a U turn in the court. You retraced your steps and turned right, venturing closer toward your own house.

────୨ৎ────

You sat in the living room, on a chair which faced the beautiful blue sky in your backyard. The birds occasional chirp was your background noise. You found yourself at peace after a long day at school; only sinking further into the comfortable cushioned chair after each word your eyes scanned. You were on page 54 of 'A Room of One's Own' by Virginia Woolf.

"Hello, (Y/N). Make anyone cry today?" Your father asked, flipping through envelopes and letters of mail after entering through the front door.

"Sadly, no. But it's only 4:30." You looked up from your book to your dear, old dad, smiling to remind him what a pain he raised. You went back to reading before he could respond, trying to wrap up the chapter you were on before calling it a day. With the amount you read, you were surprised you weren't cross-eyed.

"Hi, Dad!" Mina popped, clinging onto your dad's arm. Her fluffy hair bouncing with each step she took. Your sister's style was one of a kind, ahead of its time if you will. Her pink, girly outfits paired with her ditzy attitude had any guy on their knees for her.

"Hello, precious." Your father replied, still gawking at the mail in front of him. Mina kissed your dad on the cheek as a greeting.

"And where have you been?" You paused on the page you were currently reading, closing your book. You wanted to catch your sister off guard—get her to admit to her wrong doings.

"Nowhere." She raised her brows at you.

"Hey, what's this? It says Sarah Lawrence." Your dad was too wrapped up in reading the mail that he ignored you and Mina.

He was surprised when he heard you gasp. As soon as you heard that name, you snatched the letter from your father's clutches. Your excitement was too much to contain, you had to stand up as you ripped open the envelope. A black booklet fell into your hands.

"I got in!" You giggled excitedly, pacing the room until you landed on your stomach on the sofa.

"Uh, honey, that's great, but isn't Sarah Lawrence in a whole other continent?" Your dad followed you, watching from behind as you read the booklet. Mina curiously watched from the sidelines.

"Thus the basis of its appeal." You loved your family, but you hated staying in one place. You wanted to go out and explore the world for yourself and be the one to decide what's best for you.

"I thought we decided you were going to stay here and go to school at Kyushu like me." Your brows furrowed, closing the booklet as you sat in an upright position.

You maintained eye contact with your father as you sternly spoke. "No, you decided."

"Oh, okay, so what, you just pick up and leave, is that it?" He shook his head with disappointment, his duchenne smile dropping to a monotonous line.

"Let's hope so." Mina chimed, swaying her body aside to side with her hands intertwined together behind her back. Her flowy dress following wherever she went.

You took a deep breath, maintaining your composure, "Ask Mina who drove her home."

"(Y/N), don't change the—" Your dad pointed his index finger toward you, until it clicked in his mind what you said. His brows raised as the words spewing from your mouth, as he turned to your sister who looked guilty as ever, "Drove? Who drove you home?"

"Now, don't get upset, Dad, but there's this boy..." Mina did the classic wide eyes and pouting lip as your father stared her down, hands on his hips as he did so.

"Who's a flaming imbecile. Just thought that should be brought up." You added, sarcastically smiling as you popped the 'p' at the end.

Your dad's view changed to you, "Please—"

Mina interrupted your father, making direct eye contact with you as she spoke. She was more concerned with getting under your skin than seeking your father's approval of the boy—which he shouldn't appease to at all. "And I think he might ask me—"

"Please. I think I know what he's going to ask you." His hands shot for Mina's arms, trying to get her to look at him. She awkwardly stood, instantly regretting her say in the conversation. Your dad raised his voice, wagging his finger in Mina's face, "And I think I know the answer...No. It's always no."

He spun Mina around for her to take a seat next to you on the couch. She let out a heavy sigh in defeat as she crossed her arms and legs. Mina looked in every direction except your own.

"What are the two house rules? Number one, no dating till you graduate. Number two, no dating till you graduate. That's it!"

"Dad, that's so unfair." Mina shook her head side to side, refusing to accept the truth that she wouldn't the able to go out with the dunce face.

"All right, you want to know what's unfair? This goes for you too." He pointed his finger at you, who leaned into the cushions of the couch, soaking in the comfort they had to offer. He knelt to your eye level. Your father inhaled before going on about a life lesson, "This morning I delivered a set of twins to a 15-year-old girl. Do you know what she said to me?"

"I'm a crack whore who should have made my skeezy boyfriend wear a condom?"

Your dad let out a satisfied smile at your sister's guess, shaking biscuits head in disapproval, "Close, but no. She said "I should have listened to my father.""

"She did not!" Mina slammed her fist into the couch cushions, finding it hard to believe the "nonsense" your father spat.

"Well, that's what she would have said if she wasn't so doped up." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Can we focus on me for a second, please? I am the only girl in school who's not dating." A frustrated Mina asked, using her hands to emphasize her point of view. You could understand where she was coming from, but you also thought the idea of teenage social life was overrated.

Your father's face contorted to one of near laughter, until he pointed at your figure lounging lazily on the couch. "Oh, no you're not. Your sister doesn't date."

Your head turned to your sister next to you, proudly stating, "And I don't intend to."

"And why is that again?" Your dad asked, trying really hard to nail his point into Mina's brain. She was starting to get pouty and you knew that usually meant she was ready to burst into tears out of frustration.

"Have you seen the unwashed miscreants that go to that school?" You couldn't stress enough how many boys at your school wouldn't stand a chance in society outside of high school because that's where they thrive. The boys lived off of dirt, uncleanliness and beer.

"Where did you come from? Planet Loser?" Mina cranked her head to look at you, finding it hard to believe that you two were actually related. You couldn't bring yourself to believe it either. You wanted to get a DNA test as soon as possible. Her scrunched nose and furrowed brows said it all. She was pissed and puzzled about how you've managed to survive this long as apart of the public without going into cardiac arrest.

"As opposed to Planet Look At Me, Look At Me." You mocked, sneering as you did so. Your dad's voice filled the room after your comeback, you both shot him a look.

"Okay, here's how we solve this one. Old rule out. New rule, Mina can date—" He paused, giving Mina the hope to fulfill her teenage dreams. The your father's finger pointed at you, "when she does."

He turned away from you both on the couch, giving Mina the opportunity to stand up and run after him, "But she's a mutant! What if she never dates?"

"Then you'll never date. Oh, I like that." Your dad's head whipped back to see your sister standing while you remained comfy in the couch's cushions. "And I'll get to sleep at night. The deep slumber of a father whose daughters aren't out being impregnated."

The conversation was interrupted when your father's cell phone begun ringing. A tone that was all too familiar to you—he was being called into work. He took out his phone, glancing at the caller ID before his eyes wandered back over to you.

"We'll talk about Sarah Lawrence later."

Your eyes circled to the back of your head, "Fine."

You passed by your sister, paying no mind to her pleads to modify the new rule. She knew you would never date, which angered her even more.

She wandered after your father, "Wait! Dad!"

He picked up his suitcase with one foot already out the door. He quickly stated before shutting the door, "Gotta go."

You kept reading the booklet Sarah Lawrence sent you as you walked up the stairs. You were barely half way when Mina decided to shout at you, "Can't you just find some blind, deaf loser to take you to the movies so I can have one date?"

You turned on your heel, facing Mina who was standing on the first step with her arms crossed and a scowl across her features. You weren't sure if your dad made the best move to leave you alone with Mina—even if someone's life depended on it. He may get a call from a neighbor saying how two young women got into a cat fight in the front lawn.

"I'm sorry. Looks like you'll just have to miss out on the witty repartee of Denki "Eat Me" Kaminari." You used your fingers to make air quotes, allowing your hands to fall back to your sides as you stared at your sister in disgust. You couldn't believe she wanted to go out with that jackass when she had much better options.

She scoffed, turning around to walk away, "You suck."

You rolled your eyes, mimicking Mina's voice as you repeated her hateful words, "You suck."

◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢

⇨ 003. French is the Language of Love

taglist🫐 @katsukota @wheezdostuff @honeydwitch @chuugarettes

[phfenomena]

❝i’ve been in love with her for ages.❞ || jack champion x f!reader

requested - nope! self indulgent!

a/n - he’s so cute :3 him and the 1975 is just *chefs kiss* i also got very carried away sorry!!

warnings - drinking, marijuana consumption, romcom ass storyline, jacks lowkey an idiot but it’s okay she’s also an idiot, swearing, mentions of egging homes, also mentions of blowing a car up, let me know if i missed any!!

THE HOUSE was lively and loud with chatter, music, and the stomps of the party guests walking upstairs. her hands were filled a large red solo cup full of foul smelling liquor and a joint in her opposite hand. she took a swig of her drink and grimaced as it was going down, burning. she passed the blunt to her left and stood up.

jack was standing off in the opposite corner of the living room with his hometown friends, answering the never-ending questions about acting and how much money he makes. his reply trailed off and his eyes caught her. the only one who didn’t welcome him home last week, and the reason he’s been moping around.

their eyes locked as she was walking towards the hallway, towards him. his heart beat picks up and he takes a drink to feel more confident. she walks right by him, maintaining the staring contest until she was out of sight. he embarrassingly looked down at his shoes and pretended that he was fascinated with the view of his dirty converse.

she closed the bathroom door and leaned her back against it, slamming her head back. her veins feel as if they’re pumping molten lava into her heart, everything burns, including her cheeks. she gazes at her flustered and flushed reflection, wondering why she couldn’t just talk to him without feeling as if she’ll randomly combust.

unbeknownst to them, but they had the same night routine. stare at their bedroom ceiling and think of each other, waves of regret and sadness flowing through them. connecting them by an invisible string. jack wishes it could go back to how it was before he left to pursue acting, how it was when they were kids, how it was when you talked to him. well, why couldn’t it be? he quickly pulled a hoodie on and slipped out of the back door, heading for the house next to his and picking up the small pieces of gravel in the garden.

she swears she hallucinated it, the sound of the rocks battering against her window. hallucinated pulling her curtain back and her worst fears becoming a reality. her bedroom lamp is on, he can see her when she looks down at him. he stares up and mouths the word ‘lake’. she should’ve shook her head no, she should’ve closed the curtain and went to bed, but she nodded and got dressed.

the night air felt fresh against their skin as they walked the short trail throughout the trees behind their houses to the lake, their lake. they haven’t been since he left, and she still hasn’t spoken a word to him. their steps synchronized and he kept glancing up at her, only for a fleeting second.

as the pair of the teenagers sat on the dock, all they could hear was the crickets song and the melody of wind against tree branches. “why won’t you talk to me?” it almost sounds like a whisper, like it should blend in with the wind. she lifted her head up and starting fiddling with her nails. “i don’t want to welcome you back into my life just for you to leave again, jack. it sounds stupid, but you left. and you stopped texting and calling.” he had a solemn expression and his eyebrows were furrowed. “i’m sorry, i was really busy and i didn’t have any time. i didn’t mean to ignore you.” she nods softly and scoffs.

the sun had rose long ago and was now in its zenith, she was still in bed. she wasn’t sleeping or trying to, she just hadn’t gotten up all day. if she looked out her window she’d see jack and his family in their backyard, circled around the grill and laughing. she hates his perfect laugh, his perfect face, but most of all she hates his voice. the way it carried throughout the air and everyone recognized it. but she’s grown to despise it throughout his absence.

‘please just come with us. idk if jack will even be there.’ she stared at the text for what felt like hours. she decided her anger towards him couldn’t ruin her last summer before she went to college, she could have fun and still hate him.

the beach was already littered with cans of varying liquids and the bonfires were at their peak. she was waiting in the parking lot for her friends to meet her there but they insisted she came down to them. she was scanning the sea of bodies, trying to find a familiar face. the second she’d approached the group a drink was shoved into her hand and the music was turned up, which was already deafening.

he sat on the shore with a few friends, drinking. away from the crowd so he could breathe. then he heard her laugh. the sound he’d grown to miss so ardently, but it wasn’t even directed towards him. his mind starts racing at the thought of a random guy making her laugh that loud. she was probably drunk and stumbling on the sand. he stood up, ignoring how light headed he was, and walked towards the sound of her.

she leaned into the boys embrace, his name was ‘tanner’ or ‘tyler, she couldn’t remember. tanner-tyler almost felt like jack if she focused on it enough, but her mind was already fuzzy. her head was thrown back laughing at another funny story from their younger years. the closed her eyes and listened to the group, feeling very tired and not wanting to engage in the party anymore.

his eyes laid on the unholy sight of her with a guy who wasn’t him. his hand all over her, a smile plastered across her face. he approaches the group and accepts all hugs and greetings thrown his way, but his eyes didn’t leave the girl sitting on the sand. he took a seat in a break of the circle of teens, right across from the scene that would possibly haunt his dreams tonight, and forever.

her eyes opened after hearing his name and hearing his voice piping into the stories and adding small details the rest forgot about. her half-lid gaze was flickering between the hands on her waist and thigh and the beautiful boy across from her. she felt as if she’d might throw up, no, she actually had to throw up. she stood up quickly, throwing the hands off of her and mumbled out ‘feel sick’ and beelined for the bushes by the parking lot. jack watched the scene unfold and began following her, calling her name and asking her to slow down.

she dropped to her knees and starting coughing into the sand, he approached quickly and pulled her hair behind her head and starting rubbing small circles in the middle of her back. she couldn’t even be mad at him, not when he was being so gentle while she was throwing up her guts.

she rolled over and sat down on the sand, wiping her mouth. he was squatted in front of her, waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. “thank you.” she managed to croak out through her hoarse throat. he nodded and hummed. “can i take you home? i think you need to go to bed, drank too much.” she nodded and tried standing herself, ultimately depending on jack pulling her up and walking her to his car. gently placing her in the front seat and buckling her seat belt. “i’ll be right back, i just need to tell them i’m taking you home.”

the surprised and confused expressions amongst the group as jack explained where they’re going. the boy who was wrapped around her like an invasive species of vine piped in. “why don’t i take her home? she was all over me, i could’ve gotten real lucky.” his friends pipe in telling him to shut up and hurling insults towards him. “she doesn’t wanna go home with you. trust me.” a small smile on his lips as he walks back to his car.

as he started the car and handed his phone to her to pick a song, her knees were pulled up to her chest and she was staring out of the windshield. “m’ sorry for making you leave. i can take myself home.” he laughs and it surprises her, her eyes moving to him. “absolutely not, you’re too drunk to even know if the light is green.” she smiled in his direction. watching him as he puts an arm behind her seat while reversing out of his parking spot. she hadn’t looked at him much lately, just throughout instagram posts and whatever tiktok edit decided to show up on her home page.

the car ride was filled with music and a tension that felt as if it was absorbing all the oxygen in the vehicle. the car came to a small stop in between of their houses. they just stared at each other. “i know we just got here but i’m really hungry.” she says with a small smile and he laughed, but she didn’t seem to hate it.

the drive through at the taco bell was wrapped around the restaurant. “are we willing to wait half an hour for tacos?” she nodded and went into detail about what she’d do for a taco. they were laughing, together. he remembered the first day he got his drivers liscense and they went out for taco bell, and ate at the top of the hill that overlooks the city. he almost didn’t hear the crackling of the work out speaker through his daydream of memories.

“i can’t believe you remember my order, that’s so funny” it’s sweet, but she couldn’t say that. he laughed as he began turning into the road for the hill. he prayed she wouldn’t notice until they got there, but the way she got quiet and stared at him, she knew. she had focused her gaze on the passing trees and houses. as he turned off the car and pushed his seat back to begin eating, she looked at the city lights. “i haven’t been back here since you…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence that hurts her own feelings.

“i really missed you, it’s so hard looking at our hometown and going by our spots but i’m not with you. the guys had to pull me out of bed tonight so i’d go to the bonfire. i really am sorry for being an absolute asshole and not talking to you.” his voice was shaky but his eyes were gentle and almost looked inviting. “the reason i was so mad that you were leaving is because i had the biggest crush on you since middle school, and we had this great summer and then you just left. i mean, i’m glad you’re back, don’t get me wrong. it was just really hard.” it was the residual alcohol talking now, no filter on her thoughts that reel against her own borders.

“…do you still?” his expression almost looked like he was begging. “do i still, what?” “have the biggest schoolgirl crush on me?” she fought her laugh at his wording but went silent. “i’m sorry, was that the wrong thing to say? i was just joking-” “can you shut up for one second and let me think about what to say?” he went silent and slightly widened his eyes at her outburst. “sorry, that was kinda mean.”

they sat in the suffocating silence for a few more seconds before she opened her mouth to speak. “even if i say yes, at the end of the day you’re still leaving. i’m starting college in new york and you’ll go back to california. but…” she bit her cheek, debating if she should keep talking. “but i do. that’s why i was avoiding you, i thought it would go away after you left but it didn’t.” she turns her head to him and he looks confused at her drawn out answer. she laughed and puts her hand on top of his. “i still have a super schoolgirl crush on you.” he smiled, she leaned closer in and he had to roll himself to pull back. “maybe we should do this another time, when you’re not drunk.”

“dude, i don’t know how i keep fucking up with her! it’s like everything i do is wrong and now she’s pissed at me again right when i just got to her to talk to me.” jack laid on his bedroom floor with his friend sitting on his bed, above him. “she tried to kiss you and you said no, man. you rejected her! she’s obviously gonna be pissed at you.” “she was drunk, she wouldn’t have even remembered it and i’d be the idiot all over again.”

“yeah! i was like ‘i still like you’ and he looked at me with those stupid eyes and when i tried to kiss him he literally said no. who the hell asks if you like them and then rejects you?” she paced the length of her bedroom with her best-friends sitting on her bed watching her vent. “i was so fucking nice to him when he didn’t deserve it and he does this to me. we should egg his house and blow up his car.” her two friends look at each other and begin to try calming her down.

their bedrooms faced each other, but she’d closed her curtains. her friend had opened them while trying to explain how badly she wanted to not egg his house and blow up his car. he was sitting on his bed with his friend, seemingly talking about something important as he was motioning with his hands a lot. the two boys looked towards the movement they saw and they both freeze.

“okay, fine. but i swear to god if one of the boys invited jack, i am going to dump a milkshake on his head and beat his ass.” she’d been convinced to go out for dinner with their friends.

the young group was laughing and eating their meals, the diner was fairly busy so she wasn’t focused on the people moving around her. until she saw him, and he sat in the empty chair next to her. she pressed her lips together and looked at her best-friends with the fury of one thousand hells. they smiled sheepishly and pretended to be very interested in the story being told. he muttered a small ‘hi’ and she ignored him. until he pushed his chair closer to hers and his thigh was touching hers.

he called after her in the parking lot, she tried to ignore it and get into her car before he could catch up but he grabbed her arm, instantly letting go when he got her attention. “please, just hear me out.” his voice was low and fought the urge to hit him. she sighed and turned to face him. “you have one minute before i walk away.” he scrambled for his words and stuttered out a “you were drunk and i didn’t want to kiss you, well, no! i did want to kiss you but when you were sober and i didn’t even think you’d remember enough to even remember but clearly you did so, um, i’m really sorry. every time i get close to you i just go fuck it up.” her eyes widened at his rushed words and panicked behavior.

“did you drive here?” was all she said. he shook his head no “no, i rode with chad.” she motioned towards her car and started opening her door. looking back at him standing there. “get in the goddamn car!” he quickly ran to the passenger door and climbed in.

“so, does this mean you forgive me?” “it means you’re on parole and if you fuck up again i’m gonna egg your house and blow up your car.” he nods and smiles at her as they pulled up in front of their houses. “i’ve been in love with you for ages, and i can’t seem to get it right. let me take you out tomorrow, and if you didn’t like it, you never have to see me again.” she smiled and turned in her seat. “i could never not want to see you, jack.”

he turned towards her and looked down to avert her gaze. “it’s kind of my turn to confess and spill my guts, but i think i already have.” he lifts his head up and slightly leans in, testing the waters. he’s almost expecting a punch to the face, but instead his lips are met with hers. he feels as if god himself had bestowed a piece of heaven right in front of him, and he wondered what he did to deserve something this good.

[nhlclover]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 | 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐑 𝐙𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒

word count: 1.44k

summary: your childhood friend comes home, digging up old feelings once felt for him

warnings: slight drinking, kissing, use of 'y/f/i' which stands for 'your first initial'

Trevor Zegras is a boy you never forget.

Growing up next door to him, he was always in my life. From preschool to middle school, we were friends, spending most moments of the day together. Over time, I found myself being drawn to the boy that lived next door to me. I quickly figured, however, that my crush was one-sided. I did my best to forget my crush but failed to do so.

Even as the years passed and boyfriends have come and gone from my life, my crush on Trevor has always sat in the backseat.

When my mom told me Trevor was coming back to New York for a few weeks in the summer, I was excited. Though those feelings were promptly replaced by ones of nervousness when she informed me he had been invited for dinner at our house.

Seeing him walk up my driveway brings back memories of when we were kids, him doing the same to come and ask me if I wanted to go for a bike ride or hang out in my treehouse. We spent every moment of every summer together.

“Y/n/n. I can’t believe it.” He says. Trevor scoops me up spinning me around once.

“Trevor put me down!” I shriek.

He does so, setting me down, and looking down at me. He’s several inches taller than the last time I saw him, and has definitely put on muscle. Seeing him in front of me I am promptly reminded of my feelings for my best friend. My childhood crush has only grown into something stronger as we’ve gotten older.

“What?” He asks me.

“You look so different.” I say.

“I could say the same about you.” Trevor says, eyeing me up and down.

“I hope that’s a good thing.” I joke.

“It’s good believe me.” He smiles. “God, it’s been so long.”

“Well, you’re the one who lives in California.” I remind.

“Yeah, and you’re the one that decided to go to an ivy league school in fucking Rhode Island.” He jokes.

“Fine, we’re both at fault. Truce?” I ask, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

He snorts, shaking my hand, then pulling me into his chest and tossing an arm around my shoulders. We walk into the house, my parents immediately greeting him like he was their own son. My mom brings him in for a tight hug while my dad shakes his hand, asking about hockey and handing him a beer. We eat dinner, Trevor charming my mother by complimenting her cooking.

“I don’t know why you never dated Trevor, he’s much more polite than any of the guys you’ve brought home before.” My mom says.

“Mom, seriously?” I ask, my cheeks heating up. I dare to look over at Trevor who has an intrigued look on his face.

“You’ve been bringing guys home, huh?” He asks.

“Only two!” I say in defence. “And that was in my first year!”

“That is true. None since.” My mother nods. “So I still have hope for the two of you.”

I groan, burrowing my gaze in my food, missing Trevor’s smile and looking in my direction. We wrap up dinner, Trevor and I clearing the table while my parents put out dessert. Not long after, my parents retire to bed, leaving the two of us alone. Trevor and I crack open a second beer each and sit down at the kitchen table, catching up. He tells me about hockey and his new life in Anaheim, while I tell him about life at Brown.

“Oh my god, you guys still have the treehouse?” Trevor asks, looking out the back window in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I refused to let Dad tear it down.” I laugh. “It’s still the same as when we were young.”

“Shut up, really?” Trevor asks, whipping his head at me.

“Yeah, it’s got the 5SOS posters and everything.”

Suddenly Trevor is by the back door, opening it and walking through our backyard to the large oak tree that holds the old treehouse. I follow him, watching as he climbs up the rickety wooden ladder, holding a beer bottle in one hand. “Trevor, I don’t know how stable it is!” I call to him.

He ignores me and continues to climb the ladder, opening the hatch at the top and disappearing into the house. I stand at the base of the ladder looking up into the house, seeing Trevor standing at the opening and looking down at me.

“Come up!” He calls.

My brain is dragged back to my childhood, seeing the familiar blonde as I normally would in our summers together. I sigh, beginning to climb the ladder that creaks with every rung I climb. When I climb through the opening, I see Trevor sitting on the wooden pallet couch my dad had made for me when I was young. The couch no longer had cushions and was beginning to decay slightly.

I look around, my chosen artwork still scattered on the walls. 5 Seconds of Summer posters remain on the walls, wilting away, and the blue-painted walls are chipped.

“It still looks the same.” I say softly.

“I mean, yeah if the interior of the treehouse went through an apocalypse.” Trevor says, looking around.

I roll my eyes, sitting beside Trevor on the wooden couch. “God, we used to spend so much time in here.” I say.

“Wait.” Trevor says suddenly, standing up and going to the oak tree that shoots through the centre of the treehouse. He scans the wood, seemingly looking for something.

“I found it!” He says, waving me over.

I stand by his side, looking at where his finger is touching the tree. Above it, ‘T + y/f/i’ is faintly etched into the wood. “Oh my God, I forgot about that.” I say, burying my face in my hands.

When Trevor and I were 11 there was a two-week period that we “dated”. I use the word dated loosely as it was barely a relationship, and Trevor and I never kissed.

“I was heartbroken when you dumped me.” Trevor joked.

“Oh sure you were.” I roll my eyes, going to sit down.

He comes around the tree, finishing off his beer. “I truly was.”

I shake my head, laughing at him. “You don’t believe me?” He asks, sitting down beside me.

“Don’t even, Trevor.” I look over at him, seeing him staring intently at me. His blue eyes are still just as piercing as they were when we were young. Still just as captivating.

“What?” I ask softly.

“Nothing.” He says.

“No, no. Tell me.” I say, sitting up and looking at him. He stares back with a smirk tugging on his lips.

“When you smile, your lips still hook to the left.” He says.

It’s an odd quirk I have and everyone still points it out to me. When I smile, the left side of my mouth goes higher than the right, giving me a crooked smile. I grew up hating it. “Ugh, don’t point it out.” I say, covering my lips with my hand.

“Don’t.” He says, pulling my hand down.

His eyes are delicate as he looks into mine. Suddenly he sits up, leaning forward, and connecting our lips. I hear the empty bottle fall from his hand, clinking as it hits the floor. Trevor’s hands come up to my face, softly holding me there. Before I can kiss him back, his lips pull back. I open my eyes, finding his looking straight into mine.

We sit there momentarily, neither one of us finding the words we want to say. I decide to let actions speak for themselves, leaning back into Trevor, and connecting our lips once again. His tongue sweeps past my lips as I part them, granting him access. My hands press against his chest for stability, his slipping down to my waist, pulling me into him.

I gasp softly as I pull away, resting my forehead against his and looking into his eyes once more. “You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Trevor says softly, still slightly gasping in between words.

“Really?” I ask, our foreheads still pressed together.

“I have never not wanted you, y/n.” Trevor says. “Seriously. You’re all I’ve thought about since the day we met.”

“But, all these years… I thought we were just friends?”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” I quickly shake my head at his words. Trevor kisses me again, smiling against my lips. We break apart, matching smiles on our faces. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and I giggle at my childhood dream coming true finally.

[amomentsescape]

Do you do yanderes? Can you do a yandere jason voorhees and reader who honestly kinda likes the attention messed up affection?

Yandere! Jason with Reader Who Enjoys the Attention

Jason Voorhees x Reader

A/N: Not my most creative title, but it works I think. I've read a lot of yandere fics in my day, but this is my first attempt at writing one, so I hope you enjoy!

In your defense, you did start out terrified for your life

You spotted a tall figure standing outside your house almost every night for a month

You were freaked out of course, but he didn't really do much besides stare up at your window

However, it didn't take long before gifts were being left

Wilted flowers, pretty rocks, literally anything that Jason thought you might find interesting

You didn't know what to think at first

Was this some kind of test?

But as the gifts kept coming, you started to admire the thought put into them

Oddly enough, you were actually starting to like them

It was almost as if he was learning what you enjoyed

But things started to take a turn from there

The freshly picked flowers were replaced with bloody necklaces

The sparkling stones were now severed fingers and torn clothes

But for some messed up reason, it still didn't bother you

It was like he was showing just how far he was willing to go for you

You now even had a dedicated drawer for all of his gifts

You didn't keep the body parts of course, but you did bury them in a special spot outside in the backyard

However, you eventually started to feel lonely

Friends, neighbors, and even delivery drivers were frequenting your place less and less

You even saw on TV that a few of them had not been seen in several days

You had the sneaking suspicion that your secret admirer had to be at fault

But you could barely be mad

He was your only source of company now

And that is exactly how Jason wanted it

After a couple months, he had finally lost all resolve

He had to speak to you, hear you, get close enough to breathe you in

And now was the perfect chance since he could see just how lonely you were becoming

You felt a soft touch along your jaw in the middle of the night, startling you awake

The familiar figure stood above you, looking down at your form with a slight tilt of his masked face

Instead of screaming or pulling away like he thought you would do, you simply leaned into his touch more

That's all it took for Jason to throw you over his shoulder, marching out of the house with you in tow

It was too late for you to change your mind now

He was desperate to keep you

And you were somehow okay with this situation

He was utterly obsessed with you, and damn did that feel good

[brostateexam]

Have not been saying much for a while because everything is hard.

I. My BiL has had c diff three times now and after the third time the oncologist decided to take a damn the torpedoes approach because they were wasting weeks that should have been devoted to chemo because he was too sick and too weak to withstand outpatient treatment. I haven't seen him irl since December but my mom says he looks rough and if his immune system is so messed up that he keeps getting c diff idk that I really want to visit him. What if I get him sick?

All of this is background to me, though, because mostly I'm invested in my sister. She wants to divorce him. He needs to be better enough that she won't face ostracization for doing so. I am invested in him getting better enough for that to proceed for her sake.

II. Something about my relationship with my mom has been bothering me and I finally figured out what it is: everything is equally important to her. She doesn't prioritize anything. If I am having a tough time and ask for help she'll say "well I'm busy every day this week but I can come over next week in Thursday for ninety minutes" and then when she comes over I ask her what she was up to, both to make conversation and because I'm nosy, and it's like... she volunteered for a clothing drive at the synagogue. She went grocery shopping. She went to a farmer's market. Thanks for fitting me into your schedule, I guess! Glad to know I am on the same level as farm fresh tomatoes.

III. I have been having a really tough time of it for the last few months. The vacation in Mexico was... Not restful. Shane had a seizure on the plane and I spent the first two days managing logistics related to that (and navigating the extra ~$2k I spent covering his medical costs while on the trip). His back is still fucked up almost two months later and so I get to do extra housework and chores because he can't lift or bend without being in pain.

IV. Resultant to III, I had a really awful period of about a month with an online friend who started being super short and terse with me because I've been around online less. It was really clear he felt like I was ditching him to go hang out with my cool friends or something, instead of the reality of the situation: I'm cleaning litter boxes and doing yard work and changing the sheets on the bed aka #livingthedream. I told him about all the stuff that was going on but it was clear he didn't believe me or resented my absence nevertheless. This came to a head with me basically texting him an essay about why he was being a bad friend. In a turn of good news, he listened, and apologized, and we mended fences. That was nice because I just don't know how much more bad news I can take right now.

V. I've been struggling with work but really it's just. My boss. My coworkers like me. My project sponsors like me. My skip level likes me. My exec likes me. It's just him. We don't have a good relationship and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know that it is fixable. This is a problem because this is the guy I need in my corner to advance my career and I don't know that he'll do that for me. The alternative is leaving my company, which sounds attractive on paper but in practice the job market is so so bad and it's just so discouraging. The idea of a new job sounds incredible. I wish I could do that. Maybe even a career change.

VI. Unfortunately, that's not gonna happen because of financial pressures. NGL, as much as I like my house (and I do -- I love its little windows, I love my pink dining nook and green bedroom, I love the mature fruit trees and pretty backyard full of wildflowers), I wish i had the cash in hand, instead. I feel trapped here, and like I'm making the most of it. That's a shit feeling to have.

VII. I've started regaining weight. Not a lot. Fifteen pounds since October. But it's scaring me. It's making me wonder if this whole surgery thing was pointless because I can't seem to stop myself from wanting to eat myself to death. So I'm trying to beat it back without resorting to "diet culture behaviors" (read: disordered eating) and that's tough.

There could be a separate post for things that are going well perhaps, but this is what's going not so well and it feels like a lot. Sometimes it feels like too much.

[fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat]

Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 2

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: You have this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of Steve's chest with words alone.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick (among other scarier pregnancy symptoms), language

Word Count: 3614

Previous Chapter! - Next Chapter!

My Masterlist! - Series Masterlist!

Rain slammed against the window panes of the Harrington house like bullets. The cold seeped through the walls and ate straight through Steve’s pajamas, and the cup of coffee in his hands was doing little to remedy it. There was zero hint of sun in the sky, it seemed like there would be none all day, and Steve was really regretting coming out from under his covers. 

Steve had only slept in his own house three times over the past two weeks; he’d made quite the home for himself on your couch, living out of a backpack of clothes he’d stuck in the corner of your living room. You had asked him not to leave you alone, and what kind of man would he be if he had said no to that? He probably wouldn’t even have been able to, anyway.

He didn’t know if he would be allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and he had been too afraid to ask. 

While his father never really bothered to care where his son was, and his mother trusted him enough to let him do his own thing most of the time, he was still expected to show his face at home every once in a while. He’d been stuck with the closing shift last night (even though it was outside of his availability, so thanks for that, Keith), and he knew you’d be fast asleep by the time he made it back to your apartment. You’d called the store after you got home at the much more reasonable hour of six thirty. ‘I think I can live with being alone for tonight’ you’d told him. ‘I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.’ 

Fuck, Steve really needed a better job. Preferably one that paid him more and wasn’t open until eleven p.m. on a Thursday night. 

You worked a big girl job at the Roane County Historical Society museum. You were just a secretary, but you had a salary, insurance, and all that other grown up stuff. Nine to five, four days a week, and they helped with your college tuition, too. Come May, you’d have a History degree and a teaching certification, and word on the street said Hawkins Middle was about to have a need for a  new History teacher. Unlike him, you had the perfect five year plan laid out right in front of you. 

Y’know, as long as Steve hadn’t ruined it for you. 

By the time he woke up on Friday, his father was long gone. It was nearing one in the afternoon, and the big empty house felt extra big and extra empty today. Steve glanced out the window as he poured a second cup of coffee and saw the rain collecting in the bottom of the long-since drained pool in his backyard. A handful of stray leaves sat mixed with the rainwater, some stuck in a brown mass on the bottom, some floating lazily atop the puddle. 

He was startled out of his trance by his mother’s voice and nearly dropped his full mug.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, heels clicking along the tiles. “Or, good afternoon, rather.”

Meredith Harrington was the opposite of her husband in more ways than anyone could count. She actually enjoyed spending time with her child, for one, but there had never been an angry bone in her body. She wasn’t immune to frustration, or worry, but it was never unfounded. Yet still, for every wild flame of rage that shot from her husband's mouth, she counteracted with calmness. Or, more accurately, quiet, fearful resignation. Her husband never put his hands on her or their son, but Steve could always tell that she had spent her whole marriage walking on eggshells, waiting for the terrifying moment that he did, as if it was a simple inevitability. 

Steve loved his mom, but fuck, he wished she would just stand up for herself for once.

“God, Mom, you scared me,” Steve responded, leaning against the counter. 

“I do live here, too, y’know,” she poked back with a smile. “When did you get so jumpy?”

If she ever found out the real answer to that question, she would probably never let her son out of her sight ever again.

“Haven’t seen much of you these last couple weeks,” his mother observed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. She put the pocketbook she was holding down on the marble countertop of the island and crossed the room to lean against it, opposite her son. “I can tell, there’s far too much going on in that big head of your’s.”

Steve snorted at the well meaning insult. 

“It’s nothing mom, I promise.”

“Come on now, you know I don’t buy that,” his mother asked with arms crossed. “Talk to me, kid.” 

“I-I don’t know.” Steve was absolutely, in no way, ready to talk about any of what was going through his head, especially to his mom. ‘You might be a grandma come September’ wasn’t really something he could just drop in the middle of casual conversation.

“Is it a girl, maybe?”

Steve’s quiet was proof enough that his mother was, at least partially, right. She gave her son a knowing smile.

“Tell me it’s not Nancy again, right?” she asked. Meredith was generally a pretty forgiving woman, but Nancy had really broken her son’s heart. So, while she would always show nothing but kindness to the eldest of the Wheeler children, she didn’t have to like her. 

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Steve assured. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago.” 

“Good,” she replied. “Will I ever get to meet this mystery girl?”

Steve just shrugged, deciding it best to omit the fact that the “mystery girl” had lived across the street for eighteen years and swam in their pool every summer for a decade.

“You should invite her over for dinner some time,” his mother said. She leaned forward and pulled a piece of errant lint off of Steve’s shoulder with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll roast a chicken. It’ll be nice.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken?” she parroted back. “What kind of person doesn’t eat chicken?”

“She’s a vegetarian, mom,” he explained. 

“Ah,” his mom accepted. “Then I’ll make that broccoli cheddar casserole you like. You know, the one I make during Lent every year? Think she’d like that?”

“Yeah, I think she would.” Steve was trying his best to hide his smile, though he wasn’t doing it all that well.

“Alrighty.” She patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past him and gathered her purse. “Well, I have to go run some errands. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. You’re much too cool to tag along with mom to the grocery store. How could I have forgotten?”

“No! No, it’s not that, I-”

“I’m joking, Steve,” she assured with a smile. “Make sure that cup ends up in the dishwasher, okay? Not just in the sink.” 

“Dishwasher. Got it.”

“I love you! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!”

With that, the heavy front door shut and Steve was plunged into the silence of deserted suburbia. 

You were at work, he had the day off with no plans, and the idea of being at all productive sounded absolutely exhausting. He finished his coffee in two big gulps and decided the best way to spend the day would be to crawl right back into bed and wallow in his feelings.

Steve had, very much on purpose, kept most of his thoughts about your current situation to himself. Partially because every time you two did start talking about it, you ended up a slushy pile of tears in his arms. The other reason, though, the bigger reason, was that he was terrified that you would put all of your own wants and wishes to the side and do whatever he wanted you to. The concept of you having a baby you didn’t want just to appease him made him sick to his stomach.

His parents only got married because his mom ended up pregnant at nineteen, and having a baby out of wedlock in 1967 was a social sin of the highest order. So they planned a wedding in two weeks time (a small family affair, exclusively to save face and avoid the questions that arise with courthouse ceremonies), and moved into a big, fancy house so that everyone knew the Harringtons were a normal, run-of-the-mill, perfect American family. His father loved to point out all of the things he didn’t get to do all because Steve came along and got in the way, and his mother. . . 

She loved him. He knew that. He also knew that she had to pack up her life to play house with a man she was always a little bit afraid of, all because of him. His father always resented him for it, but his mom never did. At the very least, she never told him she did. 

The thought of doing to you what his father did to his mom absolutely fucking terrified him, but ‘terrified’ had been his baseline state of being pretty much constantly over the past two weeks.

Steve was no stranger to fear. He’d had extensive experience with the feeling; that sharp heaviness that settled itself behind his ribs and sucked every drop of oxygen out of his lungs. When it came at him hard and fast, that was when he could handle it best. This was not that. This fear was slow and achy, all-encompassing. It sealed itself onto his bones, like some sort of emotional slime. Like a fungus.

And, honestly, most of that fear was for you, not him. The worst thing that could happen to him was that he could end up being a shitty father, and while he would hate that more than pretty much anything in the entire world, it did sort of pale in comparison to your worst case scenario. You could die.

Yeah, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic, but you still could. It wasn’t all that far outside of the realm of possibility. You were already horribly sick, you had been for the past few weeks, and while you had been taking the constant nausea and incessant dizzy spells like a fuckin’ champ, it wasn’t like a positive attitude would be able to save you if you started hemorrhaging. 

Steve really hoped, for your sake, that you had yet to go down this train of thought, but he knew you most likely had. As terrified for you as he was, he understood that you were probably feeling all of it tenfold.

And yet, behind all of that, he was having a very difficult time squashing that tiny inkling of reckless hope that had been planted in the back of his head. He was still a 21 year old dick-head who had zero business taking care of a baby, and he definitely wasn’t allowed to be excited about it. For, like, a million different reasons.

Eventually, he fell back into a heavy-limbed sleep, but was woken up however many hours later by the shrill ring of the phone. A bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was just passed six o’clock. His mother should be back by now, right? He let it ring.

 A moment passed, and it rang once more. He debated for a moment if he even had the right to answer it anymore, but he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and picked it up anyway.

“Harrington Residence,” he grumbled, hoping whoever was on the other side could tell how frustrated he was to be awake. 

“Steve?” Your voice came through the line. It was strained, and he heard you trying your best to disguise the sobs coming from your throat. “It’s me.”

“Hey, woah, what’s going on? What happened?” he questioned, any annoyance gone. 

“Are you able to come pick me up?” you stuttered out between sniffles. “I’m at work. I-I have a flat tire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can,” he said.  

“Okay.”

“I’m on my way, alright? Five minutes, tops,” he told you. He had the earpiece of the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder, and the cord was stretched as far as it could go to reach into his bedroom as he haphazardly swapped his flannel pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans.

“Thank you.” Another sob.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insisted. “Hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

The rain had slowed back to a dismal drizzle that splashed into the puddles stretched across Steve’s driveway. The drive to the museum was usually short, but the evening rush (as if the barely-there Hawkins traffic could ever be called that) slowed him down just enough for it to be annoying. The museum had officially closed an hour ago, though stray patrons and evening administrative duties usually kept you back after hours. 

Steve saw you shivering underneath the awning that hung over the front doors, comparable to a lost kitten stuck in a thunderstorm. The shoulders of your sweater were soaked through, and as Steve pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car, he could see the angry black rivers of runny mascara that dribbled down your face. 

“What the hell are you doing waiting for me out here in the rain?” Steve asked as he jogged up to where you were standing. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing.”

“That creepy research assistant is in there and I hate being in the same room as him when there’s nobody else around,” you choked out, syllables broken up by wracking sobs. 

“Alec?” Steve asked, and you nodded. He pulled you tightly against him before adding, “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Please don’t do that,” you squeaked. 

“Let’s change your tire, huh?” Steve said, though he made no move to let you go. “Do you have the spare?”

“That-” your words were cut off by a pitiful sniffle. “That is the spare.”

“Of course it is,” Steve sighed, though he most certainly should not have, because it just spurred on more crying from you. “Hey, it’s alright. I can take you home and we can get a new tire on it in the morning, okay?”

“I just had a really bad day,” you wept into his shoulder.

“I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I spilled the hottest tea in the universe all over my legs,” you croaked. Steve winced at the image. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into the top of your head.

“And since it was so hot, I accidentally said ‘motherfucker’ in front of a tour group that consisted exclusively of second graders!” you added. Steve would have laughed at that if you weren’t so wildly upset. “And Creepy Alec was being creepy all day long-”

“My offer still stands.”

“And then I came out here and my fucking tire was fucking flat!” you exclaimed, punctuated by another bout of wailing, the kind that made your whole body shake and your voice stutter. Steve took it the best he could, petting the back of your head and holding you tight, wishing he could go into your brain and dig all of the bad bits out. 

“Let me get you home, and we can get you into some dry clothes and deal with your car in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimpered. 

Steve let you go, but when he went to pull you along to his car so the pair of you could leave, you stayed planted right where you were. You lifted your watery eyes to meet his, and he gazed at you from where he stood.

“Steve?” you quietly asked him. 

“Yeah?” Steve responded. A silence fell between the two of you, though the lazy rain and evening downtown traffic poked holes through it.

“I wanna keep the baby.”

You had this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of his chest with only words alone.

“That-” came out of fucking nowhere, holy shit!, he didn’t add. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you muttered over a wobbly lip.

Steve was paralyzed. The soles of his shoes had been superglued to the pavement and his arms had been turned to stone. It was somehow both exactly what he did and did not want to hear all at the same time, because deep down in his gut he knew he wanted that too, but there was a laundry list of reasons why it was a bad idea, why it was irresponsible, why it was maybe everything he ever wanted, and- 

“Steve, if you don’t want to do this, that's okay, but I need you to tell me. Now.” Your voice, shaky and full of fear and yet so, so determined, pulled him up and away from his thoughts once again. 

“I do!” he exclaimed, maybe with a bit too much fervor. He regained his ability to move and closed the gap between the two of you in one wide step. “I do.”

You stood silent with your glassy eyes staring bullets into his. 

“Look, I’m gonna start talking, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop, so if it gets to be too much, just shut me up, okay?” Steve said. He brought his hands up to grace your shoulders.

“What?” you questioned, confusion laced throughout your miserable expression.

Steve had spent the last three and a half years doing everything he could to drown out the sounds of his feelings for you, and Robin was right. It was destroying his brain. 

“I’m really, really in love with you,” he said. “And I have been for a really, really long time. Since way before this, fuck, since before Starcourt, and I’m so fucking sorry for not having the guts to say it until now. I’m the universe’s biggest coward for that-”

“You are not a coward!”

“-And I know you deserve better, but for some reason that still eludes me, you’ve stuck with me through all the bullshit, anyway. You could’ve run away whenever you wanted to, you could’ve gone with your parents when they left, but you didn’t, and that has to mean something, right?”

“Steve,” you wept.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do this with you, alright? Not a single fucking thing,” he assured you. “I meant what I said. Holding your hand the whole time.”

Steve took your trembling hand into his own, fingers fitting together like lock and key. 

“If you’ll have me,” he added.

Your lips wobbled, you let out another shattered sob, and you kissed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Like you would drop dead right on the spot if not for his lips on yours. Steve kissed back, because he knew he would drop dead if he didn’t, and now he had tears to match your own.

“I’m really, really in love with you, too,” you blubbered after the pair of you pulled apart. You had a hand on either side of his face, fingers ghosting over the junction of his jawline and neck, and Steve had his wrapped delicately around each wrist.

“You really wanna do this?” Steve asked you. “You really mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“I really mean it,” you said definitively. You were still very much crying, though you were infinitely less miserable than you had been five minutes ago. The pair of you stayed swaying in each other's arms, protecting each other from the cold.

“Good, because I really mean it, too,” he responded. 

The thick, foggy haze of emotion was beginning to dwindle, and despite the warm bubble of affection the two of you had created, you were still standing out in the rain. And Steve was pretty sure he could see Creepy Alec spying on them through one of the second story windows.

“Let’s go home. I’ll make you dinner,” Steve murmured to you, and you nodded in agreement. 

Steve drove you both back to your apartment and made a feast of plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, because it was all your stomach could really handle right now. Turns out, he very much was allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and after he’d finished doing the dishes in the sink, he joined you under the pile of blankets that adorned your mattress. Your cat curled itself up at the end of the bed as you drew yourself into his side. He didn’t remember you being this cuddly, but it was a change he was more than happy to welcome.

After a few minutes, when he’d thought you had fallen asleep, your voice pierced through the quiet of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna be someone's dad,” you muttered into his pajamas. Fuck. He was, wasn’t he?

“You’re gonna be someone’s mom,” he shot back.

“Weird,” you responded. “I think you’ll be really good at it.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Definitely.”

And of course Steve was still fucking terrified. Terrified of the monsters, and of his dad, and of all the different ways this could go south, but he had you tucked up against his chest, and he was gonna be someone’s dad, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about any of the scary stuff. In this moment, for the first time in as long as Steve could really remember, the underlying current of fear that ran along his thoughts was finally overpowered by just how much he fucking adored you.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e0509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @plk-18 @hoesbloated

[atinylittlepain]

Summer Lovin

joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

she thought he was all hers. she was wrong. but revenge is always sweet, and a little melted.

warnings | 18+ smut, serious angst, Joel is a cheater in this one and gets what he deserves (within reason)

a/n | i don't have an explanation for this one, it just sorta happened, sorry about it.

...............................

Her hands are shaking all over the steering wheel, enough to force her into pulling off the highway before the tears can fracture her vision anymore. And all she can do is laugh, a bitter thing in her throat, because she’s turned into a complete cliche now. Idling on the shoulder of the road while the texas sun splits and sinks in the sky, crying like a fool over a man she shouldn’t have given the time of day to.

But he had been so sweet, hadn’t he? A bit hopeless when they met, standing in the frozen food aisle, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand and cradling a cellphone to his ear with the other. She had made an offhanded comment that he seemed to be negotiating a hostage crisis when he hung up, a sheepish smile slanting across his face and a surprisingly earnest explanation that his twelve-year-old daughter had just gotten her first period and he had been screamed out the door for provisions.

“Don’t tell her I told you that though. Pretty sure she’d burst my eardrums for letting that slip.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. But could you use some help maybe?”

“I look that pitiful, huh?”

“Maybe just a little.” 

She was gone from the start, helping him pick out Ben and Jerry's and tampax pearls while he rambled about his daughter. Her smile spreading in sync with the flush creeping up his neck, typing her number into his phone while he leaned against the side of his truck, a nervous palm rubbing the back of his neck. He called her that night, cute and eager, wanting to thank her for the help, and to ask her out. And of course she said yes. Afterall, she had checked for a wedding ring. She thought she had been so clever for that. 

Three months, spring sliding into summer and something she thought was love slipping big and bright between her ribs. She got to know his daughter during weeknight dinners on their back porch, inside jokes zinging right over his head. And while Sarah was at her mom’s every weekend, Joel would invite her over and they’d spend the hours tangled up in his bed, bodies sticky and slick with sweat blown cool by the box fan in his window, talking in circles around each other, promises stamped into skin. 

“Don’t worry about it, darlin. We’re as good as divorced. She’s just dragging her feet signing the papers, that’s all. Haven’t lived together since Sarah was real little. I’m all yours.”

“It’s okay, Joel, I understand. It must be so hard, though, having to do all of this on your own, in a way.”

She scoffs at the sting of that memory, the way his palm had been trailing up and down her spine, the sigh he had let out at her words. She had interpreted it as a soulful weariness that only made her love him a little more. But there were warning signs too.

“Hey, darlin, I’m really sorry but I have to cancel tonight.” She was already pulling into his neighborhood when he called, new dress, the perfume he liked so much, a tray of brownies in the passenger seat, sprinkled with powdered sugar, how she knew Sarah liked them.

“Oh, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I think Sarah picked up a stomach bug at camp today is all.”

“Oh no, can I get you guys anything from the store? Soup? Ginger ale?” 

“That’s real sweet of you, darlin, but I don’t want you to catch anything. Can we take a raincheck though?” What a good father, what a good man. 

“Of course, Joel. Tell Sarah I hope she starts feeling better soon.” He had already hung up, quick and clipped. And when she drove past his house only a moment later, she could have sworn she saw Sarah in their backyard swinging on that old playset of hers. It had been easy enough to write off as a trick of the light and her eyes tired after a day of work. Though she couldn’t figure out whose car had been parked in his driveway, not his and not his brother’s. But he made good on his raincheck that Friday, showing up at her apartment in that button-down she liked so much and a bouquet in his hand, not letting her get a word in before he was pulling her into a hard kiss that made her forget to even ask if Sarah was feeling better. He was always good at that, pulling her apart, just a little overwhelming in the wander of his hands, his mouth, laying her down right on the floor of her tiny living room after kicking her front door shut.

“Missed you so bad. Been thinking about you all week. Thinking about this pussy. How sweet she gets for me. Just for me, huh?” Already mouthing at her clit through the cotton of her panties, his words thrumming up her spine, making her hips jolt in the heavy hold of his palms. 

“Yes, Joel, it’s all for you, fuck, you’re so good.” So, so, so good, stripping her down and settling back between her thighs, tongue dragging through her cunt, a hum in his throat as he held the insistent heat of his mouth against her core, pulling pleasure from her like he owned it. The ropes of muscle in his forearm jumping, holding her down by her pelvis, not letting up until she was shaking with it, his scruff scraping against the inside of her thigh, a small mercy in the kiss he pressed there. 

“Are we seriously about to fuck on the floor?”

“What’s wrong with the floor?”

“Joel.” Total theatrics with the roll of his eyes, a petulant huff as he got up, dragging her along with him. a fumbling tangle into her bedroom, making her laugh with his feigned meanness in throwing them down onto the sheets, wide eyes and breathless beats.

“That better, darlin?” No answer, too busy tugging him out of his clothes, his cock solid and warm against her thigh. Always a stretch, pleasure mingling and mixing up with pain with the press of his hips against hers. Always careful, considerate, pressing kisses to her sternum while she opened up around him, whispering into her skin.

“Feel so good for me, darlin. Like you were made just for me.” She felt like it too, like she’d never had anything like this before. The obscene slap of slicked skin, swallowing each other’s gasps as he pushed and pulled them through a hard rhythm. Her ankles hooked around his hips, open, wanting, receiving everything he gave her, the both of them sinking their teeth into each other’s pleasure, furling up close and unraveling all at once with each other’s names held in their throats. She had told him she loved him that night, in the after of it all, her chest pressed to his back, limbs tangled up. But he didn’t respond, already asleep.

Her cell phone ringing startles her out of the past, but when she sees who it is she tosses it back into the passenger seat. And her mind settles into something like disbelief, replaying the day. How differently it began compared to how it ended. 

She woke up that morning with anticipation thick in her stomach for what the day ahead would bring. She thought it was a big step, the step, inviting her to a family cookout. Playing house with the Millers. Sarah and her in the kitchen most of the morning, crockpots bubbling and watermelons split while he and his brother putzed around in the backyard with the grill, some frivolous joke about men regressing to the stone age lobbed out easy and effortless. And then people started coming, coworkers and friends and all the rest and Joel wouldn’t look at her and she wore her new sundress so he would but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t and she worried over the potato salad and the kebabs like maybe she could make right whatever she had clearly made wrong. Something about a man’s heart in his stomach, right? 

Everyone else eating and she couldn’t find him in the crowd, Tommy telling her he ran out to get ice cream from the HEB for dessert just as she slipped in the front door. She nearly laughed because why was she here? Who invites their ex-wife to a family cookout? 

And then, and then, and then.

“You must be the babysitter Joel mentioned. I admit I thought Sarah was a little too old for that but she absolutely loves you so thank you for helping out.”

And then, and then, and then.

“Hi, Tommy! It’s good to see you.”

And then, and then, and then.

“Oh, he didn’t tell you? We’ve decided to make another go of it after some time off. We haven’t told Sarah yet, but I think it will be good for all of us.”

And then.

“-- a family again. It’s right, don’t you think?”

And then.

“Sorry, what did you say your name was? I hope Joel is paying you well, and if he’s not, you come to me, okay? There’s gonna be some changes around here, but I’d love for you to stay on for our Sarah.” 

And then.

Out the door, white noise in her ears so loud she only barely thought to grab her keys and shuffle into her flip flops. Out the door and into her car and driving to the same HEB she met him in three months ago being a good father and a good man and a little hopeless and–

She pulled in right as he was walking out of the store, a placid expression on his face, not a care in the world. 

“Darlin? What–”

“Do not call me that.”

“What, what is it? Baby, please don’t cry.” A sick feeling in her stomach at the pull toward him, that tiny want for him to comfort her, to make it all better, quickly seared and singed into more anger.

“Were you gonna tell me, Joel? Or were you just gonna see how long you could keep this little game going, huh? Is that it? You think you’re so smart? Not gonna get caught fucking the babysitter?” Instant recognition sliding down his face, the quick slip of it made her laugh as his eyes darted around the parking lot.

“Let’s talk like adults, okay? There’s no need to make a scene.”

“Oh, fuck you. That’s what you're worried about though, right? That someone’s gonna see. Worried someone’s gonna go tell your wife what you’ve been up to all summer, huh?” His jaw slack, an answer in his silence. She shook her head, anger simmering beneath the hurt.

“Did you care about me at all?”

“Of course I did, I do. Darlin, please, I just got confused, let me–”

“Don’t do that.”

“Please, I’ll–”

“No, Joel. We are done, do you understand me? I care about Sarah too much to let any of this go on any longer. You know what? I just hope that your wife has a good enough head to figure it out for herself. I hope she leaves you, I really do.” Hurt crumpled across his face and she wanted more of it, wanted to dig her thumb into it and twist.

“I– loved– you– you– fucking– lying– lowlife– bastard.” She’s not sure how it happened, though it would be the topic of conversation at the neighborhood women’s book club for weeks to come. Some young thing tearing into Joel Miller, smacking him six ways to Sunday with her flip flop in the grocery store parking lot. Cornering him against the side of his pickup truck, big strong man curled up with his hands over his head as she rained down perfect hellfire on him. He had dropped his grocery bag, two gallon containers of ice cream sweating out in the summer sun, her bare foot stepping sticky into a puddle of vanilla. 

“Don’t you ever do anything like this to anyone ever again, Joel Miller.” The grand finale, that ice cream of his melted enough that it was too easy to pick up a carton, pop off the lid, and dump the dribbling liquid over the top of his head before primly shoving her flip flop back on and getting in her car. 

She finds herself laughing through a throat heavy with snot, the image of him in her mind, blinking hard through a thick stream of slurried ice cream, shoulders up to his ears, pure shock in his shudder. 

“Worth it.” One thing that goes right today, she leans over to rummage through her glove compartment, sighing when she finds the nearly empty carton of cigarettes, lighter tucked into the crumpled box. She quit two months ago, secondhand smoke around Sarah and all that. But how easy it is now to roll down her window and take a crackling drag that she blows out into the fading afternoon, smoke whipped away by the endless whir of cars passing by. Peace in the inhale and exhale, promptly disrupted by her phone ringing again. Cigarette dangling between her lips, she scoffs between her teeth. Ten missed calls. She doesn’t even listen to the voicemails, simply chucks the thing out her window along with her cigarette butt and shifts her car back into drive.

She’ll be okay.