#seriously this ice cream looks so fucking cool???

[uofcosmos]

jungkook bf hcs

sfw

- always lets you colour in his tattoos/sleeve with your eyeshadow palette or makeup, always walks around with it after its like your own little colouring book

- if he's not going somewhere you are, he always tries to convince you to stay home but if you don't, the compromise is you doing your makeup on his lap

- definition of scary dog privilege!!! hovers behind you anytime you're talking to someone he doesn't know

- type to call you up at 2/3am to go on a walk to the nearest convenience store to get ice cream cause he loves your company

- if you even mention liking a specific hairstyle on a guy he just goes and does it, his looks vary so much in your relationship cause he's always changing it up depending on your preferences

- always stocked up on your fav drinks/snacks

- go to petname is baby!!! thinks you're the cutest

- if you're ever mad at him he always squeezes your cheeks in one hand

- anytime he goes out and sees something that remotely reminds him of you, he is buying it

- buys clothes with how you would like wearing them in mind, goes out of his way to give you his clothes

- type to text you about every small update in his life, he sees a cool looking flower and you're getting a picture of it

- matches his pinkie nail with your nail set!!!! loves helping you pick out designs and colours

- after the first time you come over to his place, he'd have a pair of slides available just for you

- if you ever get sick he'd be attached to you, bcs if you're sick he has to get sick, you guys r a team 🤞

- his gym goals involve benching double your weight so if there was ever an emergency he could pick you up and get you outta there

- type to say "this one's for you babe" and make it

- rlly into giving you piggyback rides!!

- you're tired? you're on his back

- drunk?? his back!!!

- starts pillow fights/wrestling but will give you the win and acts super defeated

- loves gaming but the second you say you're sleepy, he's already in bed waiting for you

- big spoon!!! will surround your body and borderline suffocate you

nsfw under cut!! mdni

- top, on the softer side

- teases you a LOT, chronic sex giggler even when you're getting frustrated

- watch stays ON during sex

- not only during sex but smacks your ass a lot

- you bend over to pick something up and it's over

- loves you tucking his hair back if it falls around his face midway

- lots of foreplay!!!!

- loves showing off how strong he is, rlly into picking you up during sex

- type to grip the headboard during, loves showing off his forearms

- also LOVESSS when you hold onto his arms

- if you guys ever tried roleplay, he'd try to play along but he'd find you too cute to take seriously

- nuzzles you w his nose a lot during, esp when you're making a lot of noise

- in love w your thighs his face stays buried there (even outside of you guys fucking)

- holds your hair back in a makeshift ponytail when you're giving head

- if you fall asleep after, when you wake up you'd be in a clean shirt (his) and wiped down!!!

- has a post fuck snack drawer in case you're hungry after

[probably-writing-x]

Hotter and Hotter

Summary: hi 👋🏼 I don’t know if you take any request now but I will still ask.. Can you write about the scene of the grocery when Conrad just lean on and take a sip (he was soo f hot ) and make it like more flirty and it can go like you want between Conrad x yn? thanks u ❣️

Warnings: Sexual references (Minors DNI)

Author’s Note: I’m not taking requests atm but this came through and I was inspired so maybe I am taking requests, we’ll never know xoxo

“This is the hottest it’s ever been I swear to God,” Conrad grumbles from the couch, hand resting on his chest.

“Well you try and fix the air con then, because it’s doing fucking nothing when we try,” Steven shrugs his shoulders, his head resting back against the seats of the couch from where he sat on the floor.

“You’re an engineer Steven, isn’t this like your job?” Belly points out, dragging her hair away from her face.

The air conditioning in the house had been out all morning and the temperature had been slowly rising with the sun. Now, it was stifling hot inside the house and just as bad outside too. And, clearly, the group were at their wit’s end.

“Okay, can we please stop talking about it? Like, can we talk about anything else?” You roll your eyes, your back against the couch where Conrad was laying, your head mere inches from his.

The two of you had been friends for years, ever since Belly and Steven had started coming to the summer house, you had too. The group of you were always inseparable whenever you were all in Cousins. But, before this summer, you and Conrad had realised your feelings for each other. He’d started calling you every night, texting you more and more often, and eventually the two of you spoke to each other more than anyone else. You’d both agreed, however, that is was not worth the drama for the rest of the group to know that anything was going on. You’d kept things completely private and, so far, it worked.

You’d turned up to the summer house this year terrified to see him again, and when you had done, it was like there was a weird tension that you’d never known before. There were sparks whenever he looked at you, electricity coursing through you whenever you briefly touched. You hadn’t even kissed the boy and yet all you could think about was doing so. It was driving you insane.

“Well, what else do you want to talk about, (y/l/n)?” He turns his head so that it is facing you but you keep your gaze averted away, worried he’ll make you blush.

“Anything,” You groan, “Like, seriously, it’s making it worse if all we talk about is how hot we are.”

He smirks, “You think you’re hot, (y/n)?”

You whip your head around to face him and roll your eyes, “Grow up, Con.”

His smirk remains, eyes trailing over your face as the conversation grows behind you. Jere and Belly were agreeing on getting into the pool and Steven was refusing to join them under the premise that he couldn’t find any swimming shorts in his suitcase.

“How about we head to the store?” Conrad suggests, pushing himself up to sit on the couch, “We can get some cold drinks, some ice cream, anything remotely cold.”

The group all sound into chorus of agreement and you nod too.

“Yeah, just get anything they’ve got,” You encourage, watching as he swings his legs over the side of the couch so that he’s sat next to you now, his knee bumping your shoulder.

“Oh, you’re coming with me,” He nudges you, “I need someone to help me push the cart.”

Conrad stretches out a hand to you and waits for you to take it.

“Right because that’s definitely a two person job,” You roll your eyes, taking the grip of his hand and pushing yourself up from the floor.

“Oh, absolutely it is,” Conrad shrugs his shoulders, walking out of the lounge towards the front door, grabbing his car keys on the way.

———

You sit in the passenger seat and he sets his hand behind your chair as he reverses, the air con in his car blasting enough for you to both cool down.

“Why didn’t we think of coming in your car earlier?” You question, glancing out of the window at the changing street beside you.

Conrad turns his head in your direction, “Because then they’d all want to come.”

You nod in agreement and fall silent, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“So, has anyone said anything about…”

“What? Me and you?” You finish the sentence for him, “Why? Do you think they know?”

Conrad smirks a little, “Jere told me that sometimes you talk in your sleep and he can hear you through his wall.”

You frown just slightly, cogs turning in the expectation of what he was about to say.

“Apparently he heard you call my name,” Conrad fully grins then, turning the car into another corner as he approaches the store.

You feel your face heat up more than the sun was capable of, your heart sinking a little, “I did… I mean he heard… what?”

Conrad chuckles gently and his hand moves from the wheel to squeeze your leg, “Oh come on, (y/l/n), I already knew you were obsessed with me.”

You clench your jaw and look away from him, the embarrassment seeping through you. He squeezes your bare leg again and keeps his hand there as he pulls into a space in the parking lot.

“Okay I’ll get a cart and I’ll meet you at the checkout,” You nod, taking a deep breath to relatively compose yourself as you get out of the car.

Conrad follows behind you, fighting back the smile on his face. He walks up behind you as you go to get a cart, his arms dropping to either side of your hands on the handle, thumbs brushing your pinky fingers.

“See, Ive just got so many questions,” He mumbles the words into your ear as his chin drops to your shoulder.

You feel a tingle go over your spine and quickly step out from underneath his arm, “And I won’t be answering them.”

Conrad persists, of course, pushing the cart into the store and following your every move.

You both take a silent sigh of relief at the feeling of the air con in the store, walking a little slower as if to revel in it for as long as possible.

“Okay, so what was this dream about?” Conrad asks, stopping the cart as you throw in a few items from the produce section.

You make brief eye contact with him in the coldest glare you can muster, “Con, I said we’re not talking about this.”

“I mean, it must’ve been pretty good for you to be calling my name,” He points out nonchalantly, throwing a few bags into the cart, “So, tell me what it was about?”

You spin on your heel and grip the end of the cart, squeezing down on the plastic as you look at him, “Conrad, I don’t remember, okay? Now can we please drop this because you’re being an asshole.”

He raises his hands as if in a gesture of surrender before placing them back on the cart and following you still in your slow steps around the aisles.

Conrad didn’t need to know to boost his ego, or to use it against you. He needed to know because the thought of you thinking of him like that made him feel like a kid with his first crush. He was infatuated, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

Things were awkward between the two of you now, and neither was willing to break the tension with any form of conversation.

You were embarrassed, of course you were. The chemistry between the pair of you had been sky high since you’d arrived back in Cousins - all of the awaited feelings of seeing each other again had come bubbling to the surface. And yet neither of you could do anything about it. So there it stayed - bubbling wildly on a surface that would not release. Of course you were thinking about him, how could you not be?

“Okay, you get the ice and pay for this, I’ll meet you at the car,” You nod, holding your shoulders a little more sure of themselves.

“Oh, so I’m paying?” Conrad raises his brows, stopping in his tracks with a bag of ice in his hands.

“Your daddy’s credit card will,” You taunt in response, disappearing around the corner of another aisle to leave him to his own devices.

Minutes later, Conrad appears through the sliding doors of the store, the fully loaded cart bumping in the parking lot in front of him. You’re stood by the car, waiting for him, two large drink cups in your hands.

“And what’s this?” He nods his head a little towards the drinks, eyes returning back to yours.

“A peace offering,” You shrug your shoulders, “I’m sorry I got annoyed about you asking about… I just, I was embarrassed and I didn’t want you to think I was some weird stalker that was obsessed with you or something.”

Conrad laughs gently, the kind of laugh that always manages to ease your worry. He steps out from around the cart so that he’s mere inches from you.

“You know,” He lowers his torso down to take a slow sip from the drink, darkened eyes staring up at you as he does, “If you wanted to be screaming my name in the night, you should’ve just asked.”

Your mouth falls agape slightly as all words seem to escape you.

“Come on, I’ll load this up before the ice cream starts melting,” He clears his throat, as if nothing had happened, “Get in the car.”

You oblige and sit in the passenger seat waiting for him as he piles the bags into the trunk, climbing into the driver’s seat shortly after.

He reaches over to take his cup from your hand and his fingers brush yours - still electric as you repeat over the words he’d just said.

“So, home?”

You hum in agreement and keep your eyes focused on the road ahead of you as he reverses out of the spot, unable to hide the smile tearing at your face.

———

“We’re back!” Conrad calls out as the two of you head inside, arms full of brown paper bags.

“Thank god!” Jere exclaims, grabbing a couple of the bags from you to alleviate the weight, “Successful trip?”

You and Conrad exchange a quiet glance before looking back and both saying at the same time, “Yeah.”

Jeremiah frowns at you and his brother, “You two are weird.”

He helps to unpack the shopping before turning back to both of you.

“Hey, Con, did you ask (y/n) about her dre-“

“Grow up Jere,” Conrad snaps quickly, throwing the last bag of ice into the freezer.

You look at him and smile a little to yourself, averting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.

Jeremiah rolls his eyes at his brother and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving just the two of you once more.

“Here, they’ve not melted yet,” Conrad pulls an ice pop from one of the boxes and unwraps it, handing it to you.

You set down your drink and take hold of the wooden stick. Now was your chance to get him back. You make sure you’re stood as close as you can get to him, your eyes gazing upwards to focus on his. And you stick out your tongue, drawing it from the bottom to the top of the cold ice, not once breaking eye contact with Conrad as you pop the top in between your lips and suck gently before pulling away.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, and find yourself hiding back a grin at your obvious effect on him.

“What’s wrong Connie?” You ask him through batted eyelashes, “You look all… flustered.”

It’s almost as if you see the second that the cogs turn in his brain as his hands stretch out to grip your waist, both tightening to lift you up and onto the kitchen counter behind you.

And then, without a second thought, his hand grips your face and he pulls you in to kiss him. It’s rushed at first and overly fueled by passion but you don’t care. He can taste the sweetness on your lips and it only seems to encourage him more, kissing you like he’d been waiting to do so for years. His hand tightens once more on your waist, pulling you into him as closely as he can as your hands grip onto his shoulders.

Conrad pulls away then, only breaking contact at your lips to catch his breath as his forehead rests against yours.

“Don’t tease me,” He grumbles quietly, his lips plump in the absence of you.

You chuckle a little, nudging his head a little more, “From what just happened there, maybe I should be teasing you more often.”

Conrad smirks and pulls away, standing up straight as both of his hands settle on either side of you on the counter. He glances behind you at where the large glass doors lead out to the garden, “You know, nobody’s actually in the house.”

You turn over your shoulder to catch a glimpse, “Yeah, looks like it’s just us.”

He takes the opportunity as you’re turned away to kiss at the exposed skin of your neck, his touch hotter than any weather was capable of.

You let out a quiet moan and grip the back of his head. Damn, he was good at this.

“Connie-“ You hum, pushing into him as closely as you can.

He smirks against you and pulls away, eyes widening slightly at the mark left on your skin from his lips.

“We should probably join the rest,” You comment, dragging your fingers through his hair.

He flutters his eyes closed at the contact and sighs, “Five more minutes.”

Conrad leans in to kiss you again but stops as he hears;

“Conrad! Can you bring the ice pops out?” It’s Stephen yelling to the pair of you.

You look at Conrad and laugh a little, hopping down from the countertop, “Come on, before they suspect anything.”

“I think that mark on your neck will make them suspect enough.”

You bend down to take the ice pop box from the freezer and reach one hand behind your head to untie your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders.

“There we go, it’s like it never happened,” You wiggle your eyebrows and saunter outside towards the garden.

Conrad watches as you go, a smile on his face before his eyes drop to the barely-touched ice pop you’d both discarded onto the counter.

Thank god for hot weather.

[alwaysmicado]

Sink or swim

12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8

WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret. A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍 Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.

series masterlist | main masterlist

The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.

You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.

Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.

You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.

No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.

Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–

Shut up. 

You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.

The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings. 

With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.

As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special. 

It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.

Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.

Fucking embarrassing.

How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again? 

There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.

“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”

You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.

Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.

It’s an uncomfortable truth.

There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.

And last night, that fear came true.

Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.

For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration. 

Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?

You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.

You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.

Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.

You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.

And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.

As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.

You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.

Three years earlier

The sun is down.

Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.

This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.

In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.

You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.

You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–

“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”

A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.

Are you kidding me?

With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.

“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”

“Wha–” 

You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”

The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.

“Darlin’, I’m just–”

“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”

When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up. 

Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is. 

God, what’s wrong with you?

“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”

“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”

“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”

His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.

Okay, world. Hint taken. 

“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out. 

“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”

“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?” 

Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.

“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”

The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself. 

His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”

You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”

He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.

As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.

The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone. 

You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.

“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.

Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.

“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.

“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”

“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.

“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.

You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance. 

He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.” 

“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”

“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.” 

“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”

Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”

“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.

“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.” 

“You’re not from here?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”

“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”

You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”

“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”

“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”

He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead. 

“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.

“I told you, watching the sunset.” 

“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”

You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”

“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”

“Like what?”

“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”

Your bewildered look amuses him. 

“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”

You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”

“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”

“Hm?”

“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”

“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”

You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”

“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes. 

“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”

“Where did you put all your stuff?” 

“My stuff?”

“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.” 

You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”

“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.

He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”

“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.

Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.

“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”

“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”

You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?” 

“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”

“Pineapple.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pine. Apple.”

“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”

“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”

“No, just not a complete monster.”

You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.

Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.

“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.” 

You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again. 

“When did you decide to fly out here?”

“Last night.” 

“How? Why?”

“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”

“Hm. I know that feeling.”

You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”

“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry. 

You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”

“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”

You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”

You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.” 

Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

“Are you married?”

“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”

“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”

“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.” 

Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.” 

“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity. 

“A few times, yeah.”

“And the women you were with…they loved you?”

“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be. 

“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”

Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.

“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”

“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”

Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.” 

“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile. 

“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”

“Was?”

“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”

“What the hell? When was that?” 

“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”

“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.” 

“I’m not sure that’s true.” 

“What makes you say that?”

You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.

“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”

You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.” He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes. “I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.” Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh. “Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling. “I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart. “No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you. You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you. In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock. “I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist. “Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute. “Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”

You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?” 

“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”

“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.

“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.

“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”

“Did you just call me handsome?”

“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”

Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.

“I saw her.”

“Who?”

“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”

“What did you do?”

“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.”

The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.

“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”

“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”

Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”

“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.

“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”

“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”

“Dar–”

“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare. 

He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.

“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”

“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.

“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”

Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.

“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."

He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly. 

“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now. 

“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”

You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back. 

“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you. 

“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”

Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.

Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.

As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life. 

He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.

You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence. 

Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.

As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.

You take a deep breath.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”

“Why won’t you go home?”

Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you. 

“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.

You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”

“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.

You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.

Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own. 

His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone. 

“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.

“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart. 

Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.

Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.

“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night. 

“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Okay.”

As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness. 

Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.

“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”

Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”

“Great,” you say with a small smile. 

You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.

“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.

“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”

“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back. 

“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.

“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.

He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.

As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”

“Are you–”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”

Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.

“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.

As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.

Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.

As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.

Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.  

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”

“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?” 

“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.

You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.

Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow. 

“Want me to show you around?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.” 

“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”

“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him. 

“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”

Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”

You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.

“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”

“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack. 

As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.

After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.

With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.

“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”

“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease. 

“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”

You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.

As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.

Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.

Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight. 

Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.

“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”

Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.

But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.

Oh.

The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident. 

Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.

You’re in trouble. 

His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.

A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.

Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer. 

“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.

As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.

The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.

“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”

“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”

“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”

Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.

When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.

“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.

With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot. 

Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.

Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.

And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.

“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.

“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his. 

You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black. 

“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great  view of your spread thighs and torso.

“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.

You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist. 

“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm. 

“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”

As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole. 

“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.

“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.

Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.

But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”

“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed. 

Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him. 

“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.

Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.

But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.

This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.

You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips. 

Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.

“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”

Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his. 

“Please? Tommy?”

Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.

“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”

He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”

“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”

The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him. 

“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.

“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.

Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.

“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.

You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.

Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up. 

You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)

You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?

Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy. 

just accept it <3

You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him. 

But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.

Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning. 

“Sweetheart?” “Yeah?” “I, uh, I got something to tell you.” “Shoot.” “I met someone.” Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart. “We’ve only been on two dates, but I–” “Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze. “Yes.” That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced. “Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?” Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.” “Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Darlin’, look at me.” You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.” You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants.  And that’s not you. You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”

You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.

You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.

One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand. 

A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.

After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.” 

“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.” “I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.” “Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.” “Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.” “The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.” “I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.” “You really wanna play semantics with me?” “Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.” “Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?” “It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.” “Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.” “Ew, don’t say that.” “Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.” “You suck, you know that?” “Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?” “I dunno, probably not.” “Are you gonna tell him?” “Uhh, I don’t think so.” “Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.” “Tommy…” “Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.” “Liar.” “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.” “Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.” “That’s not how it works.” “You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?”  “Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?” “I’m not sure I can.” “What does your gut say?” “My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.” “As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.” “I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.”  “Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.” “Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?” “You know I’m right, baby.”

It’s funny, really. 

You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors,  reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture. 

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids. 

You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—

“Hi, darlin’.”

“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.

You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”

“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”

His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.

Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.

“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”

His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction. 

You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.

“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.

Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”

“Hm.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”

As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.

In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?” 

You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings. 

“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.

Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.

“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”

Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.

You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.

Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.

Thank you for reading! 🤍

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[cornenhapovs]

♡゙  :  𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎  𓈒      📹  ？

# ⃞ how a little cool dessert became a hot real quick .........

|| pairing : Jay park x yn || kissing slight nsfw || not proofread ||

Today is hot !!! Like seriously hot and clamy . I've been trashing on our sofa in the living room for past 1 hr watching some random movies alone . Why may ask ? Because for the past 1 hr jay has been going on and on with his guitar cover for his upcoming tour leaving me hot and bothered . An idea formed in my head why not bother your fav person in the world ? It'll give him a break too and I'll get some attention too !!!

“Do you want to get some ice cream Jay ?” You suggested him . Jay just nodded a quick yes .

" Why don't you come with me and get it together It'll be a short break for you too jay " You suggested . Jay stood up and followed you to your kitchen . The two of you sit in the kitchen, opposite each other eating ice cream. After some time you felt eyes upon you and looked up to see Jay staring at you . Those piercing stare which always leaves you awestruck. This is your chance the one you have been waiting for . You lightly smirked and began doing your tricks.

Jay’s eyes keep wandering across your body and vice versa. You pick up another spoonful of the delicious cold chocolate ice cream and place it in your mouth,sucking on the spoon for an unnecessarily long time as you look at Jay , then you run your tongue across your upper lip. Moving slightly in your seat, dipping your shoulder so the strap of your dress falls of your shoulder. Taking another spoonful of ice cream you put it in your mouth and a few melted drops fall onto your chest and dribble  down the side of your mouth. Using your thumb you wipe it away, while maintaining eye contact with jay .

Suddenly he can’t handle it anymore , “Fuck this.” Jay said and he practically pounces across the counter at you. He tosses his ice cream aside, and is suddenly in front of you. His lips crashing against yours, in an hungry open mouthed kiss. Your hands can’t get enough of him, they touch everywhere as does his. He kisses you deeply, enticingly, passionately. His hands tangled in your hair, before they slide down to the front of your dress and ....

" Shhh I think you have a guitar cover to complete ain't it jay " ? You said teasingly.

" Oh shut it as if you practically weren't begging for my attention huh princess " ? Jay said while nibbling your ear slightly. " Maybe it's my fault to keep you away from me I don't want to leave you all hot and bothered now right ?

Hah afterall I've to cool my baby now ain't I " ? ....

—♡cherrie🍒

© @cornenhapovs ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work.

♡ @chaconnenha @wonryllis @okwonyo @nishions @angel1kisses @heesbaby @021894s @teddyseong ♡

[syrupfog]

The first time Penguin sees him, it’s in the auction house at Sabaody, standing on the opposite side of the room. He’s hard to miss; tall and imposing, a mess of blond hair and a LOUD polka dot shirt. 

He leans over to Shachi. “Does this boiler suit make me look cool?”

Shachi smacks him upside the head. “No,” he says. “Stop making eyes at the enemy.” 

“He can’t even SEE my eyes,” Penguin sulks.

The second time Penguin sees him, it’s in Wano. And it’s, like, a whole thing. There’s a lot going on, and Penguin’s a bit BUSY, honestly, he’s got some other things to deal with. 

But he notices that the guy’s, like, seriously bulked up. It would be hard not to notice, really.

Penguin flexes his own muscles. He can’t see much of any change. Especially under the boiler suit. 

Shachi squints at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks. 

Penguin smacks him. “Shut up,” he says. “And give me those binoculars back.”

The THIRD time Penguin sees him, things are a bit different. 

And by a bit different, he means “SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK SHIT WHERE DID BEPO GO? SHACHI— FUCK WHERE IS SHACHI—“ 

It’s HOT on this island, boiler suit stripped down and tied around his waist and Penguin is still sweating buckets as he runs down alleys and side streets with the sun beating down on his back. There’s only about twelve people running behind him, yelling angry-sounding things that Penguin doesn’t bother deciphering because WHERE THE FUCK IS EVERYONE?

The bundle in his arms isn’t helping the heat stroke quickly approaching either. He’s gonna need Law to give him a rehydrating IV or something after this and then he’s going to be in trouble for wasting resources. 

Racing around a corner leads him to a crowded market street — a good sign, maybe he can get lost between the stalls. Or maybe not— the angry mob behind him seems to be gaining and they’re yelling honestly very rude things. WHERE the FUCK are his CREW— 

That’s when he sees him. HOW they ended up on the same island is a mystery, but—

“Hey! Oi!” Penguin yells, making a beeline straight for him. 

Killer, of the Kid pirates, is at a stall perusing mangos. He looks up, blue and white stripes zeroing in on Penguin. GOD the guy has some wide shoulders. 

“Yeah, you!!” Penguin yells. “Offense or Defence??”

“Uhhhhhhh,” Killer says, tilting his head. Very calm for a guy who MUST see the mob behind Penguin. “Depends on the game.” 

“Now!!” Penguin shouts, getting within throwing distance. He can practically SEE the question marks popping above Killer’s head. 

“…Defense?”

“Then CATCH” 

Penguin throws the bundle at him and turns on a heel, skidding into place mere feet in front of Killer and facing down the approaching mob. He sticks his hands deep into the pockets of the boiler suit and draws out two brass knuckles, because god these outfits are NOT good for hiding larger weapons in. 

“Uhhhhh,” says Killer behind him, voice echoey under the helmet. “Maybe I should be offence, actually.” 

“TOO LATE,” Penguin yells, charging toward the mob that has been quickly thrown into confusion now that their target has turned around.

Honestly, there’s not even any burning pitchforks or anything. It’s just a dozen or so citizens with sticks up their asses (and in their hands), and Penguin, well, he’s had to fight Clione for the last ice cream bar. 

He comes away with one nasty scrape to the cheek and a bunch of blood splatters on his outfit that Law will enjoy testing for STDs. When he finally shoves the brass knuckles back in his pockets, he turns around to find Killer still standing in front of the mango stall (although the seller has long since run for it)

And the bundle squirming around in his hands. 

“You good?” Killer asks. 

“Are you holding her upside down?” Penguin asks. 

Killer looks down at the bundle in his arms. He flips it over, and the squirming stops. A head pops out. A small child with an unnervingly large mouth full of triangular teeth, and a head of shockingly blond hair in two messy tails, is looking bright eyed at Penguin. 

Penguin gives the small child a thumbs up. 

She giggles, showing off her many unnerving teeth. There’s a second set behind the first.

“So,” says Killer, conversationally. “She yours?” 

“Oh god no,” Penguin says. “Found her chowing down on some offering to a local god and the townspeople were getting all angry at her.” He walks over, picking up a mango and holding it up to her. She neatly bites through half.

“Cool,” says Killer. 

“You got parents, kid?” Penguin asks. 

The small child shakes her head, mango juice dripping from her mouth. 

Penguin frowns. “Family?” 

The small child shakes her head again. She doesn’t seem sad. She probably didn’t know them.

“Aww,” says Killer. Penguin looks up at him. He’s oddly expressive for a man in a helmet. 

A chill runs up his spine, though, and he turns away, recognizing the feeling of conquerors haki. Sure enough, the captain of the Kid pirates is walking through the center of the now deserted market street. 

“Killer!” He yells, stalking over to them and ignoring Penguin entirely. That’s fair. Penguin likes it that way. “What’d you fucking do??” 

Killer tilts his head. With both hands he holds up the fishchild. “Got a baby,” he says brightly.

Kid blinks at the child. “What the fuck,” he says. 

Killer lowers the child and then points with one hand at Penguin. “His baby,” he says. 

“Well,” Penguin hedges. 

“What the fuck,” says Kid.

“I’m keeping it,” says Killer. 

“Her,” says Penguin. 

“That makes you a grandpa,” says Killer. 

“FUCK no it doesn’t,” shouts Kid. 

The child laughs. 

“You can’t have a BABY with the ENEMY,” Kid yells. 

“Well,” says Penguin. 

“You can’t tell me what to do, Mom.”

“Fuck you,” spits Kid. 

“She has her father’s eyes,” says Killer. 

Penguin’s not sure which of them is supposed to be the father. 

“My hair, though.” 

Ah, Penguin is the father. 

“We’ll have to work out custody agreements,” Killer continues. 

“I’d like a date first,” Penguin says

Honestly it’s fitting that that’s the first full sentence he gets out, somehow. 

“You can’t date my second in command!” Kid yells. 

“I mean, we have a kid together,” Killer points out. “You’re a bit late.” 

Penguin is halfway to a genius response of some kind when he sees  blue light wash over them. It’s all he can do to mime “call me” at Killer before he’s shambled back to the ship. 

“You’re late,” Law tells him. 

“I’m an unwed mother now I think,” Penguin says. 

Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to know.

[lowkeyrobin]

TREVOR SPENGLER ; ice cubes

summary ; it's hot out and you've retreated inside with trevor, who pulls a 2019 youtubecore prank on you

warnings ; language

word count ; 389

next post in the morning will be requests, I got this done last night and I just wanna post it

masterlist

Trevor lays sprawled out on the hardwood floor of his bedroom, trying to cool down as he had the windows open and the ceiling fan on the highest speed. You're sprawled out next to him, laying on your stomach. You lay your forehead on top of your arms, groaning as you feel beads of sweat moisten your forehead, cheeks, and back.

"There is actually no good reason it needs to be so hot today." Trevor says, pulling the collar of his shirt back and forth to create a little more air on his chest.

"Thank global warming," you reply, moving your arms to lay face down on the floor. You lightly touch your head down to the wooden floor, feeling a little coolness touch your face before fading away.

You hear him shuffle and move, then glide across the floor in his socks towards the door. His 'I'm 18 now, I'm a grown man' attitude was never being taken seriously around you. Hopefully, he'd be back with some popsicles or ice cream to cool you both down.

Sadly, Pheobe, his mom, Gary, and even Podcast didn't have to suffer with you two, having gone out for Ghostbuster stuff a half hour ago. They'd left you two here to watch over the firehouse, which, comically, had felt like it had been on fire all day. Apparently 18 year old duties came with having to stay back on adventures and laze around in your own sweat.

You hear him walk back into the room, by now, you'd found a comfortable position to lay in where you were getting enough air and were also comfortable.

He smirks, quietly creeping towards you, a steady stride carrying him across the room. He quickly lifts the back of your shirt up at the collar, and pours a cup of ice on your back.

You quickly jump up and empty your shirt out, the ice cubes falling onto the floor with hard plunks. You look up at him, eyes slightly widened, your face painted by playful annoyance.

"Why would you do that?" You ask, lightly shoving his shoulder, a smile tugging at your lips.

He shrugs with a little chuckle, "You're the one complaining about being too hot"

"You were complaining too" You say, crossing your arms.

"You're hot physically and metaphorically"

"Shut the fuck up"

[raina-at]

Box

Sometimes Sherlock's mind runs at high speed, sometimes he's brilliant and every input sparks a million deductions and interesting thoughts and new ideas. Sometimes he marvels at the complexity of his brain, the intricate rooms and spires of his mind palace.

Sometimes, and there's no other, less harsh word for it, sometimes Sherlock hates being in his own head.

Sometimes, when everything is loud and wild and too much, he feels like he would do anything, anything, to have a moment of peace. A moment of quiet, the insatiable engine of his brain stopping just for a second for a second so he can rest.

Sometimes, days are slow and grey and boring, and his mind is a slog of conflicting thoughts and memories, and the very idea of any kind of movement is already too much. Sometimes even the light hurts. Sometimes even John's voice is too loud. Sometimes even his dressing gown chafes his skin raw and even the air feels like pins and needles on his feet.

Sometimes Sherlock goes quiet, on days like this. Sometimes he gets high.

But he really hates the days when he gets nasty. He can't even really stop himself, he just spews out all the hateful thoughts about himself and other people into the face of the first person to touch him the wrong way.

Sometimes, that person is John.

Like about half an hour ago. Sherlock had been lying on the sofa since yesterday evening, unable, unwilling to even think of moving, and John had insisted he at least drink a bit of water.

Reasonable. Kind, even.

Sherlock opened his mouth and he eviscerated John. With deductions about his family, his bad habits, every tiny inadequacy in the bedroom he ever experienced (though their sex life, let's be honest, is fantastic, but at that moment he didn't care, it would hurt John and he would leave Sherlock alone in his misery). 

John, predictably, left.

Sherlock seriously asks himself whether one of these days, John won't come back. And he's frankly baffled when John comes back, not twenty minutes after Sherlock said some things to him that Sherlock himself will probably not be able to un-hear.

But John doesn't even seem overly angry. Resolute, yes. Wearing his 'Fuck with me at your peril' face, yes. But not angry.

"Okay," he says. "This ends now. Sit up."

Curious in spite of himself, and fully aware of how thin the ice he's walking on currently is, Sherlock does as he's told.

John puts a nondescript cardboard box on the table. "We're playing."

Sherlock doesn't roll his eyes, but it's an effort. This is an old game, one John invented for him back when he first moved in to entertain Sherlock between cases. John calls it 'What's in the box'.

Sherlock calls it a waste of his precious time and brain capacity. It's never taken him more than ten minutes to guess what's in the box. The only reason it’s even a bit of a challenge is that John is delightfully unpredictable. But still, Sherlock always guesses correctly.

But one look at John's flinty eyes, the telltale tension in his jaw muscles and the way he stands nearly at parade rest tells Sherlock that arguing right now would perhaps not be altogether in his best interest.

Sherlock holds John's determined gaze for a moment, then, after John raises a challenging eyebrow, directs his attention at the box.

It's a square box of brown cardboard, about 20 centimetres in diameter, large enough to hold a novelty mug, for example. Sherlock picks it up and starts examining it. It's very light, he notices that immediately. It's also cool to the touch, and slightly damp. It's snowing outside, so the deduction that John just went out and purchased this box is immediately obvious. But did he purchase the contents as well?

It has no discernible smell aside from the slight whiff of John's hand cream and London snow. The edges are smooth, whatever John put in there fit easily. The box makes no noise when he shakes it, so either the contents are well-secured or fit the box so perfectly that there is no room for movement.

“Five questions,” John says quietly.

Sherlock acknowledges the rules of the game with a tilt of his head and asks his first question. “Did you purchase the contents?”

John nods. “Four.”

“Did you do it within the last hour?”

John shakes his head.

Sherlock looks up from the box and meets John’s eyes. John is watching him with a mixture of anticipation and wariness, and Sherlock is suddenly overwhelmed with guilt, with disgust at the horrid, uncontrollable part of him that’s capable of spewing such ugliness to a person he loves so much. “Why are you still here?” he whispers, holding John’s eyes.

“Where would I go?” John asks quietly, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Anywhere has to be better than here on days like today,” Sherlock answers, his voice raw with emotion and the full force of his self-loathing. 

“Open the box,” John says gently, nodding at the small cardboard square between them.

“But the game-”

“Sod the game,” John says with his usual impatience. “Open. The bloody. Box.”

Sherlock decides arguing is pointless and opens the lid.

Inside is a lot of packing paper.

And inside the packing paper sits a small, square, velvet-covered ring box.

Sherlock looks up, surprised, aghast, shocked. “Why?” he asks, unable to say any more.

John shrugs, a quiet smile on his face. “Because. Because most days you’re wonderful. Because most days we have fun and adventure and closeness and great sex, because most days you’re brilliant and clever and funny and charming. Because on the days you’re not, you’re still you and I still love you. And I don’t see that changing any time soon. And I want you to be able to think about that when you look at that ring, and remember that even on the days when you hate your brain, I love it, and always will.”

Sherlock is speechless, helpless, planless in the face of this onslaught of affection. He looks down at the box and opens it with gentle, shaking fingers. 

The rings are lovely, of course. Plain white gold, simple, perfect.

“I don’t know what to say,” he says, addressing his words to the box because if he looks at John now he might very well die of overload. 

“It’s customary to say either yes or no,” John says, and underneath the teasing he can sense John’s actual uncertainty.

Sherlock takes John’s hand, encircling John’s ring finger with his fingertips, imagining the ring there. Finally, he looks up, and he smiles. “Yes.”

-------

Tags under the cut as usual, please tell me whether you want to be tagged or untagged. Sorry if I forgot to tag you, it's been a looog day. Also sorry if there's any mistakes in there. Long day.

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @keirgreeneyes @meetinginsamarra @jrow @jolieblack @helloliriels @discordantwords @lisbeth-kk @victorianpining @catlock-holmes

[kayentokk]

Easy Peasy Sukuna Squeezey(Part 2);Fuck It.

Pairing;Sukuna x Fem! Reader

Summary;Sukuna has found a solution? Kind of, one hint though. It’s not ice cream.

Contains;fluff, little argument, not an adult way to deal with problems, cussing, chef Sukuna, totally not feelings(that Sukuna doesn’t have for you), life is ass sometimes, soft Sukuna 

Wc;1,719

A/N;Okay, so I definitely went heavy on the chef Sukuna.

Prev. Series M.list Next

“I hope you’re hungry for pasta ‘cause that’s what m’makin,” he lowly grumbled walking into the kitchen.

“Yeah pasta is fine.”

You’ve watched Sukuna cook a multitude of times, and each time he looks so comfortable. So at peace, well when he’s not cussing out the stove for taking a long time to heat up. 

“Y’want garlic bread?”

“With cheese on top?”

“Are ya askin me?” He teases.

“Sukuna-,” you started to retort with an irritated tone. 

“Ask nicely, y/n.”

You just mumbled out a low “can you put cheese on top?”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Oh my Go-“

“It’s just one word, sweetness.”

You rolled your eyes at the saccharine nickname coming from his lips, “Sukuna you’re seriously on my last-“

“Hmmm?” He feigned innocence while cutting you off again.

You let out a defeated sigh mixed with agitation and said, “please?”

“Seeee? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Oh yeah, so glad it amused you,” you replied rolling your eyes once again.

“It did.”

Sukuna turned the stove up, the small notches making little tick noises each time the setting changed, and began to boil the pasta. 

He was always meticulous about the way he cut up the vegetables and such, one time you even asked him why it mattered and he grumbled something about how eating ugly vegetables is gross. You weren’t exactly sure how one little crooked square would make it ugly since it’s all going in the same pot, but to each their own right?

“You should be a chef,” you blurted out.

It wasn’t a bad thought, just an inside one. But who wouldn’t want to see a chef Sukuna? The lean but buff figure putting garnishes on top of things and his triceps and forearms flexing each time he stirred a pot or chopped a veggie. His forehead collecting little beads of sweat from the steam of the pot he just opened to taste the contents. His fingers cupped underneath the spoon, and his cool breath blowing on the spoon causing his lips to purse-

“Y/n,” he says snapping his fingers to pull you back to planet Earth.

You immediately refocused your attention on the present moment and nervously asked, “yes?”

“Are y’gonna taste this sauce? Or just keep staring off into space?” 

Then you noticed the wooden spoon in front of you and hastily tasted the sauce. 

“It’s good!”

“Yeah,” he replied, “but as awesome as this tastes I was telling you, before you went all spacey on me, that a chef isn’t exactly the job f’me.”

“What,” you said with a pout, “why not? You’re so good at it. I could even be like your sous chef or something.”

“It’s just not, I dunno, it doesn’t feel like my thing.” 

“But-”

“I’ll cook for you all y’want mkay? So don’t complain, cause you basically get a lifetime of free meals. I don’t think Yuuji even gets as many meals as you do.”

“That’s because I’m always at your apartment, and you’re always cooking.”

He just gave a gruff hum in agreement with your statement. The truth is, Sukuna had never thought about what he wanted to be after college. Being a chef wouldn’t be all that bad but he’d have to cook for everyone, not just you. Which, for some reason, didn’t sit right with him. 

When the food was finished he plated it and set it in front of you with a glass of water. You gave him a low thanks and began eating. You hadn’t noticed before, but you must have been starving because you were scarfing his food down. 

“Let me know if you want seconds with that,” Sukuna said while playfully grinning. 

“Oh shut up,” you said chuckling. 

There it was, your laugh, your bright smile. He loved seeing that. To Sukuna, sadness didn’t fit you. It just wasn’t an emotion he would associate with you. To Sukuna, You’ve never truly been sad, well besides the little petty things you’d get upset over. To Sukuna, those were way different because they were fixable.

That’s why thinking about the current situation made Sukuna’s jaw clench, and even worse it made him scared because what if he couldn’t fix it this time?

Once you both finished eating you had decided you wanted to talk about it. You just needed to get some things of your chest. 

He was washing dishes when you started to speak, “I just don’t understand.”

At first he was about to ask, “understand what?”He had forgotten about the problem, and for a moment so did you. But he knew that you’d open up eventually so he just listened. 

You went through a rundown of exactly what happened. You told him about the tip-off from the mutual friend, the obscene sounds you heard, the trail of undergarments leading to the bedroom, and your little exit. Sukuna was pissed to say the least. He just didn’t understand how some ugly narcissistic asshole could throw away everything. What an idiot. 

Sukuna focused in on what you were saying again, “I mean, I think I was a good girlfriend…I thought I was anyways. People say it happens sometimes though….I just never really imagined it happening to me.” 

You continued on, I mean I probably should have seen it coming.” You scoffed before continuing, I mean just look at me-“

“Stop that.”

Sukuna hated that. He hated it, that you could feel so doubtful towards yourself. Like you weren’t good enough for that sack of shit. 

“You could find someone else, t’treat you nice and stuff.”

You laughed at his response, “That is only gonna happen in my dreams ‘Kuna.”

He just shrugged as if saying, “you never know.”

“I thought that when I went over there I’d be fine, I briefed myself and I knew what was going on. I was prepared for it. But now I’m just confused, and-“

“Angry?”

“Y’know, not everyone feels anger as an immediate emotion when something wrong happens to them ‘Kuna?” 

“Really? So it’s just me?” He said sarcastically, letting out a short chortle.

You rolled your eyes and continued, “I am angry ‘Kuna. So angry, okay? But I- I can’t just punch someone like you do-“ 

“I mean you could,” he mumbled under his breath  barely loud enough for you to hear. 

You just ignored him and continued with a sigh, “I also can’t just cry and ball my eyes out over it. I won’t let myself, it’s already pitiful enough. Crying about it won’t help.” 

He didn’t have a witty, snappy response to that one. “S’not pitiful,” he said gruffly while drying his hands off on a towel and moving closer to your spot in the kitchen.

“Have you ever been broken up with Sukuna? Actually scratch that, because you ‘don’t do serious relationships.’ You ever been rejected?”

“Y/n, that’s not the same-”

“It is! It’s proving my point. You can get any girl you want, Sukuna! You’ve never experienced anything like that, I don’t even think you could comprehend it at this point,” you said laughing dryly. 

“Y/n, you know that’s not the same, we’re not the same.” He said, beginning to think you were being a bit unreasonable, “and m’not sure what this has to do with me, but all I’m saying is that there’s nothing wrong with feeling angry or sad about the situation y/n. It’s perfectly normal to want to punch a guy who cheated on you,” he said escalating, “You should feel betrayed! Hell you should-“

“Don’t tell me how to feel,” you mumbled.

He paused, calming himself before speaking again. “I get it, okay y/n? You’re hurt, and I-,” he pauses in frustration, running a hand through his hair to push it back out of his face, “I wasn’t trying to tell you how to feel. But comparing and contrasting our lives isn’t gonna help.”

Sukuna was offended. his life is different from yours, way different. And if he’s being honest, it’s not one you’d want to live anyways. Sleeping with random people, there’s not a difference from any of them. Half the time he can’t even remember them, or they’re blowing up his phone. 

It’s just a distraction for him, for what he hasn’t exactly figured out yet. Well, deep down he knows but he’d never let himself admit it. And with all the “relationships” you’ve been in. It’s the only way he stays sane at this point. 

“I know, I know, sorry for ‘comparin,” you said knowing you were wrong. 

He sighed not liking the way the conversation had taken a turn, “y’dont hafta say sorry Y/n. I just wish y’would channel your inner me or something.”

“What? You mean act crazy and go beat my ex up or something Sukuna?”

At first, he was just joking with that comment. Trying to bring the light back into the heavy conversation, but he thought about it and seeing a more crazy side of you wouldn’t be so bad. Not that he’s crazy, but thinking about seeing a more loose side of you intrigued Sukuna.

“Well, while that is a me thing to do it’s not exactly what I was thinking.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Fuck it.”

“Fuck it? That’s what you want me to do?”

That is such a Sukuna thing, but only with hookups. Make no mistake, Sukuna is an adult, and he does have responsibilities and priorities that he has to take care of now. So ‘fuck it’ is only for situations where he doesn’t have to care. 

“Yes. I want you to say fuck it to this whole situation, hang out with me the whole weekend and not contact him,” he says while crossing his arms. 

“Even if he calls me?”

“Especially if he calls you. I’m sure he’ll get the hint. Since you left your spare key there and made quite the exit,” he said deviously. 

You rolled your eyes and huffed out a, “fine, let’s fuck it.”

“With pleasure,” he stated. 

You were actually excited for this weekend, sure this wasn’t a very adult way to handle things. But if you were being honest, you didn’t want to handle it, you just wanted to act like it never happened. Not ideal, but it’s fine. Besides, some of your best life experiences were with Sukuna, what could go wrong?

@/cafekitsune for the divider

[midnight-pluto]

ROUND 2 : PG.00 — well shit

ROUND 2: dazai osamu x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: When you decided to attend Chuya's volleyball game, you didn't expect to see a familiar face. A face of someone you thought you would've never seen again; what's more annoying however, is seeing said face repeatedly.

TW: talks of a successful suicide

round 2 master list || next

OCTOBER 18 ; 18:07

IN ALL HONESTY, you were just there for the fact that you all were going to get ice cream afterwards. What you expected was for your team to win, everyone congratulates Chūya, then you both drive to get ice cream.

Your expectations came true, for the most part. Chūya's team won, but when him and other teammates were celebrating you catch a glimpse of a face you had presumed to have died.

Dazai Osamu. Now grown compared to the boy had once knew, still giving the same shit eating grin to a pissed off friend — not a mutual one this time.

Eyes locked onto him, afraid he was going to disappear on you like he had before, Chūya gently slaps your arm to get your attention, "What're you looking at?"

You simply point in the brunettes direction, still unmoving.

"What the fuck?" his eyes widen, two pairs of eyes now locked onto a man they haven't seen in three years.

A man they once knew.

His grin fell as he turned towards your direction, but there was nothing to be seen where you both once stood. "Huh, I swear I felt someone staring at me."

"What're you on about this time, Dazai?" the blond man raised a brow, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Don't worry about it, it’s no longer a matter that’s important to me,” he replied.

“You’re not as edgy as you think when you talk like that.”

Your grip on Chūya's shoulder loosened, as you both slowly turned towards each other. "There's no fucking way that was him," Chūya muttered.

"And here we thought he actually succeeded in killing himself," you huffed out, "Of course he wouldn't be lucky enough for that to happen."

"Well, I guess our night's been ruined," he sighed, kicking his shoes against the gravel, "And you teleported us without letting me change out of my uniform."

"Did you want him to see us or not?" you ask, looking at the frustrated expression on his face.

"I doubt he'd do anything in the first place," he rolled his eyes, "Clearly he wanted to cut all ties with us and start fresh at another school, don't know how he'd manage that with how popular he was here."

"I guess he did grow taller and doesn't have a broken arm this time around," you shrug, amused at Chūya's eyebrow twitch at the mention of height. "Still has that insane look in his eye though, don't know how anyone can miss that.”

Chūya sighed, "Well, people are dumb. Now I'm gonna go change." As he begun to walk away he felt your eyes trailing on his figure, "Don't worry! I'll be back in under ten minutes, you won't be waiting long."

"Good," you say, not loud enough for him to hear though; you didn't feel like shouting right now. Unlocking your car, you hop into the drivers seat and went on your phone as you wait for Chūya.

'SHIT SHIT SHIT shit! Why would those guys be here of all places? To make themselves feel better? That’s actually kinda pathetic… Are they seriously glaring at the back of my head right now?’

Sitting in the booth by yourself, you swallow another serving of ice cream down your throat, pretending to observe the color changing spoon that you were given.

‘Ah yes, the spoon is changing from pink to blue. How cool.’

Tasting the remaining ice cream left on the spoon on your tongue, you glance behind you to see if they had moved and meet Dazai’s eyes.

He was standing behind his friends admiring all the ice cream flavors, his face blank as he continued his make-shift staring contest.

Your eyes widened slightly, but your gaze slightly hardened noticing the intense look in his eyes. You shift yourself so your legs are no longer hiding under the table; ready to get up if he wants to try something.

“Dazai! What flavor do you want?” a voice interrupted, but failed to shake his gaze.

“Cookies n’ cream.”

“Okay!”

A few more moments passed and the frown you initially wore didn’t change, the only thing that caused you both to break your gaze was a white-haired boy handing Dazai his ice cream.

Unbeknownst to you, the brunette looked back only to be met with the back of your head.

You continued to munch on your now somewhat melted ice cream as you could hear footsteps approach your booth.

A sigh made you look up to see a familiar redhead sitting across from you again, “What were you even trying to do there?”

“What do you mean?” you tilt your head as Chūya scooped his ice cream into his mouth.

“That staring contest you both did. Hella weird,” he elaborated.

“The bitch was staring at me and I ain’t no pussy so I stared right back,” you shrug, “Shit, I finished my ice cream.”

STICKY NOTES:

im trying my best to not unintentionally make this an enemies to lovers

TAGLIST : @heeslovr @atlasnessie @cvidy @rattyrattyratty @chaos-inperson [ if you want to be added, send me an ask or feel free to comment! ]

[aalloochaat]

having a study sleepover with eren <3

bro takes the sleepover part more seriously than the studying one.

he prepares snacks and pillows and makes a list of movies to watch and buys facemasks so you two can look aesthetic and shit 

its his first sleepover !!!!!! 

and he’s especially nervous, since it’s with YOU, the cutie who is new to the friend group, the cutie he can’t help but think of as more than a best friend, the cutie who is shy and sweet and so, SO fucking adorable he can’t help but lose his cool whenever you’re nearby

at least he’s slick about it ! (he isn’t)

he literally POUTS when you actually start studying. he tugs at your sleeve and acts all whiny and calls you a nerdy stupidhead because you’d rather focus on your textbook and not him.

“how can you study and focus on some boring textbook when you’re in the presence of this fine piece of ass!”

yeah, he calls himself that. also calls himself a hunk of a man, starboy, heartbreaker, gorgeous, the most handsome guy on campus… the list goes on. you’re used to it.

but… you have noticed something. he's only like this when with you, practically begging for your attention.

you’re the one he facetimes at three in the morning when he’s craving ice cream, you’re the one he sends good morning texts to, you’re the one receiving his sickeningly adorable whines.

honestly, you’re flattered. because you think he likes you. actually LIKES you. you’re not sure.

the list of girls this maddening man has dated, hooked up with, screwed around with… is VERY long. and you’re not sure if you’re a conquest or not.

so in the bestie zone he goes! 

mean? yes. but hey, you needed to take precautions. he’s cute, but he’s a menace.

so you just give him a deadpan glare and go back to your textbook.

[bro-atz]

in dire need of repair

in which: there's only one man who can fix your sad, vanilla sex life, and that man is sumin.

pair: mechanic!sumin/afab!reader

word count: 2.1k

content: smut, oral sex, car sex, fwb type situation, completely consensual!

tag list: @eyeryis @sinnarols @dutchessskarma apply for the permanent taglist here!

You stood in front of the Tricky Auto Repair shop, your bottom lip tucked in between your teeth. It had been a while. You quietly entered to see your favorite shop mechanic bent over, his head pretty much buried in the engine of the sexy orange Mustang he was fixing up. Grease smudges decorated his cheek, exposed neck, and forearms. His hair had changed since the last time you saw him— he decided to go short on the sides and grow the rest of it out, some of his hair tied up haphazardly.

“Hey,” you said softly, earning his attention immediately.

Sumin stood upright and faced you, his eyebrows raising slightly as he laid eyes on you. He would’ve said he was surprised to see you, but based off the way you were describing the last guy you were meeting for dates, he wasn’t surprised to see you. If anything, he was surprised to see you there so early— you’d only been seeing the guy for three months. Honestly, a new record.

“Well, well, well,” Sumin said with a sly grin as he watched you fully walk into the auto repair shop wearing your nicest— and ironically, sluttiest— clothes with your low-cut top and light-wash skinny jeans, your black, strappy heels, and your hair and makeup done prettily. He closed the hood to the car then wiped his hand on a rag and asked, “Don’t you think you look a little too nice for a place like this?”

“Save it, Sumin,” you sighed. “I don’t need your scrutiny right now.”

“No, darling. Not scrutiny— just your standard inspection.”

“What, like I’m a car?”

“You do ride kind of nice—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you interrupted with mock-exasperation and a sly smile. “Seriously, though. It’s been a while.”

“Three months isn’t that long. You’ve been MIA for longer. Everything okay?”

You let out a deep sigh and took a seat in your regular spot— on the stool in front of the tool shelves. “Very obviously not,” you replied sadly. “I dumped him.”

“I mean, I kind of figured… But why?”

“He was really sweet and nice, but like…”

You could only mean one thing when you trailed off like that. Sumin echoed your sigh from earlier and looked at you with slight disapproval as he said, “Oh God, Y/N… Not again.”

“I’ve just been so frustrated for the past however many weeks it’s been since I started sleeping with him! I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I feel like you said this the last time…” Sumin pondered out loud.

“Not funny, Sumin,” you whined. “I’m seriously so sick and tired of men being like this! He literally never wanted to do anything. If I wanted vanilla, I’d get ice cream, not date a total stick in the mud.”

“Fair. So, what, you wanted to revisit this again? Us?”

“Please, for the love of God. I need it,” you nearly begged the mechanic.

“Alright, fine. Lemme close the garage for a lunch break,” Sumin said, a smile playing on his lips.

“A lunch break, huh?”

“Would you rather a fifteen?”

“No, a lunch break sounds perfect. Let’s do that,” you quickly stated as you jumped to your feet.

“Alright, darling. You remember what to do, right?” Sumin asked as he started to close down the garage, the natural sunlight slowly dimming as the door came down.

“Of course.”

You shed your purse and shoes before carefully leaning against the hood of the car Sumin was working on, your fingers teasing your hair out. Sumin finished closing and locking the door before walking back to the car. He trapped you against the hood, his hands pressing into the cool steel as he leaned into you. His lips brushed along your jawline before trailing downwards and leaving soft kisses along the slope of your neck. Your fingers pressed further into the hood of the car as you supported more of your weight when Sumin moved his hands— one on the back of your head and gripping your hair, the other cupping and squeezing your breast lightly.

The kisses on your neck got sloppier as his grip on you got tighter, his firm hands pulling you into him. You let out a little cry when he pulled on your breast a little too hard, making the mechanic chuckle slightly. “You’re the one that didn’t want vanilla, darling,” he teased you as he brought his head up to meet your bleary gaze.

“I don’t…” you sighed out. “I-It just feels so good, Sumin.”

“How bad was he for something like this—” Sumin asked as he gripped both of your breasts harshly, “—to make you feel so good already?”

“N-not bad, just boring.”

“Boring is bad, darling. That’s why you’re here with me,” Sumin whispered sensually before pressing his lips against yours roughly. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make you feel so good that boring will be disgusting.”

Suddenly, he lifted you up so that you were sitting on the hood of the Mustang while he remained standing in front of the car. He tilted his head up, and his lips met yours urgently. You ran your fingers through his hair and gripped his neck and shoulder as he made out with you recklessly, mercilessly. He quickly worked on getting you out of your clothes, leaving you on that hood wearing nothing but your panties. He released your lips and trailed his lips down your chest and to your breast, his tongue teasing and flicking your firm nipples. You started panting when you felt two of his gruff fingers rub against and into your panties, your arousal fluid steadily staining your pair of pretty panties. The knot in your stomach was tightening the more he sucked your nipple and stroke you, but along with that knot came a sense of frustration. It was when he left kisses down your torso and brought his face close to your crotch did you finally break.

“Sumin,” you whimpered as you tried to pull his head away. “I want you in me already—”

“Oh, no, darling,” Sumin grabbed your wrists and forced you to let go of him, his hands pinning your arms on either side of you. “Not without giving me a little taste, first.”

Pushing your panties to the side, Sumin sucked on your clit, the feeling making your toes curl in an instant. You whimpered and brought your thighs together, trapping Sumin’s head. He continued to work on your clit as he let go of one of your wrists to finger you, his three fingers filling you up. You moaned loudly when you felt them curl inside you, rubbing your walls just right to the point where you grabbed his hair and pushed him closer to your cunt.

Your entire body tingled when you heard him begin to slurp up your arousal and when you felt his tongue tease you, his fingers withdrawing. His tongue flicked rapidly against your folds and pressed into you, the curve of his tongue and the feeling of his nose brushing against your sore clit nearly making you cum— and Sumin knew that the second your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably, making him stop almost immediately.

“Down,” he told you as he stood upright and wiped his mouth. “Face the hood.”

You slipped off the car and nearly fell to the ground, your legs wobbly from Sumin eating you out. You turned around and leaned against the hood of the car, your stomach in knots as you anticipated his cock.

Sumin stripped down so that his upper body was stark while he merely lowered his pants and briefs to let his cock spring out. He rolled on a condom and returned to you, his hands reaching for and massaging your ass.

“You don’t want vanilla, you say,” you heard him mumble to himself. “Babygirl, you’ll never get vanilla from me.”

Hearing him call you babygirl made your heart flutter and butterflies swarm your stomach, but the butterflies immediately disappeared and the knots returned when his cock swiftly entered you. Although it had only been three months since you last saw him, you forgot his size, and you forgot the amount of times his cock wrecked havoc on your pussy. You moaned loudly as a result, your sweet voice echoing in the desolate garage.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried. “S-sumin! Shit!”

“I know,” Sumin grunted out with a slight smirk on his face as his waist slapped against yours at a slow, steady rhythm. “You missed me so much, didn’t you?”

“S-so much!”

The mere fact that you agreed with him made his cock twitch with excitement. He bucked his hips upwards as he fucked you from behind, one of his hands moving from your ass to your lower back then slowly sliding up your back until his fingers were brushing against the nape of your neck. You turned your head to look at him to see an intense look of concentration painted on his face, his eyes darkening with every thrust.

Then, your head snapped back the second his thrusts got more powerful, stars slowly starting to fill your vision as his cock repeatedly brushed past your G-spot.

“Hnngh— Yes, baby! Just like that,” you whined and brought your leg up as you tilted your waist up, trying for another angle. “Harder!”

Sumin grabbed your raised calf and pulled your leg back, turning your entire body to the side. He was moving faster, his cock rubbing inside you so much to the point where you thought he was going to rip your insides out. His hand grabbing and squeezing your ass as he rammed his waist into yours was the cherry on top that you needed. The knots in your stomach quickly unraveled, and stars completely filled your vision as you came, your thighs shaking, your pussy convulsing and squirting your arousal all over the place. More came out when Sumin pulled out entirely, making you cry loudly.

The car, which was moving along to Sumin’s pace, settled down at the same time you were able to blink all of the stars and tears out of your eyes. You hadn’t cum at all in the past three months, making this moment so worth the wait, but yet, you wanted more. You locked eyes with him, the man immediately licking and biting his lower lip sensually as he saw your half-lidded, misty eyes begging him for more.

Wordlessly, he turned you around so that you faced him, your ass pressing against one of the headlights of the Mustang. He brought one of your legs up, his hand tucked perfectly in the space behind your knee. And just as fast as he turned you around, he re-entered you, his cock filling you up once more. Now that you were facing him, his cock seemed to go even deeper inside you, brushing against your cervix every now and then.

“You shouldn’t have worn makeup, darling,” Sumin joked, his sentence coming out choppily as he continued to fuck you. “It’s all messed up now.”

“That— Angh— That was the point,” you panted out.

“Oh, yeah?” Sumin chuckled throatily, his chest rumbling and tickling yours as he leaned in. “Then let me make it worse.”

He kissed you sloppily, his tongue searching for yours as it dove into your mouth. His hand wrapped around your neck lightly, his fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly that it barely restricted your breathing. It was subtle, but it did a fucking good job. You could feel the blood rushing through you, sending your mind through another high, and when his cockhead hit your cervix with all of his force, you came again. You clenched your pussy tightly as Sumin refused to pull out and let you cum completely, making his own vision go white.

“Shit,” he groaned against your lips, the vibrations from his voice just continuing to stimulate you. “I’m cumming!”

Sumin pulled out in an instant, your fluid finally being allowed to release, your cries echoing as you came even harder than the time before. Sumin, meanwhile, slipped the condom off and pumped his cock several times before ropes of white decorated your stomach and breasts, his breathing heavy as he came just as hard as you did. After he emptied his load completely, his breathing slowed down, and he sighed blissfully before reconnecting your lips with his.

“How… Was that?” he asked breathlessly.

“Exactly what I needed…” you responded in the same way, your chest rising and falling as you hugged him and kissed him again. You rested your forehead against his and continued, “Definitely not vanilla.”

“I told you, babygirl. You’ll never get vanilla from me.”

[bambi-slxt]

Would you be open to writing Chris/Matt X Nonbinary Reader headcanon?

of course, my love, thank you for the req 🤍

enby!reader:

✨a concept✨

includes usage of pet names that are gender-neutral in my opinion

coming out -

chris: "you guys have the best flag colors, honestly. don't tell nick i said that, he'll kill me."

matt: "they/them? cool, mine are he/him, wanna go get ice cream?"

pride parade -

chris: "all of these pins are gonna look so cool on my backpack, holy shit, these go so hard."

pride parade with matt: "i told you to put on more sunscreen, that's probably why you're burning. no pride stickers until you put it on."

meeting the parents -

chris: "as long as you let him talk about golf, Jimmy's gonna love you. don't be nervous, i got you." very wet forehead kiss

matt: "okay so there's something you have to know about Mary Lou, right..."-deep sigh-"she's gonna make you a casserole. yeah. yeah like- yeah like a whole, a Whole Ass Casserole to take home. and she'll call me. and ask if you liked it. you're not allergic to anything right?"

hanging out with justin and the boys -

chris: "he may seriously rock your shit at cards so if you wanna play with me you can. no, i'm not bad at cards. i'm not cheating! what is this slander against me?" chris is very bad at cards and is trying very hard to cheat his way to victory.

matt: "you've never played Super Smash Bros? nah, i'll teach you. don't want you to worry about learning it tomorrow instead of having fun with everybody, come here. okay so first you pick your character...yeah it kinda matters but i'll start you off with Kirby, he's pretty easy...yes you can be the purple one."-kisses your cheek-"you're so adorable."

self-expression:

chris: "how other people feel about how you express yourself literally doesn't matter. they can go sit bare-assed on a lego. i think you look cool as shit and my opinion is the only good one, so." he's very proud of himself, but he does genuinely care about you and how you feel. if he could get rid of your doubts about how you style yourself, he would.

matt: "listen, my entire goal when i get dressed in the morning is to look homeless. i promise you, the people who matter won't give a flying fuck."

spicy time -

chris: "biologically, you've got one of the two set-ups, and i'm experienced in both,"-wiggling eyebrows-"so you're in good hands."

matt: "you experiment however you want, sweetheart. i'm here to learn how you like it."

aftercare -

chris: "blankets for you, water...you want juice? sure baby, i'll get you juice," he chuckles, kissing your cheek before heading to the kitchen, leaving you snug under his fluffiest blanket.

matt: "come on, shower time. nope, let's go. i know it's warm but we gotta...okay, you get five more minutes, and then shower."

dear anon,

hope you liked this! i'm not nonbinary myself, though a dear friend is, and in this post, i've used pet names and honorifics that i know for a fact they're comfortable with, and i hope none of these were off-putting to you.

thank you!

- bambi <3

[vainilla-milk]

kiss me more

pairing: Iwaizumi x Fem! Reader

tags: a little bit suggestive ig?, fluff and not corrected

wordcount: 2k

There has never been a time when you felt more embarrassed than when you decided to rush over to Iwaizumi to congratulate him on his team's recent victory in the school volleyball tournament. 

You saw him walk past you after school, you felt so happy for him, needless to say his energy brimming with joy and victory could infect anyone nearby.

You just wanted to hug him while your mouth was spilling congratulations, but the emotion and euphoria clouded you and the first thing you did after falling into his arms was to kiss him. 

It was only a few seconds, a few in which you momentarily felt that everything stopped around you, but when you were aware of what you did, that stop of time only became a moment of hellish embarrassment.

Iwaizumi was staring at you in shock, not understanding what had just happened, you couldn't bear his look of confusion. 

You apologized, or so you tried. You only stammered apologies and your face reddened, there was an unbearable heat in your cheeks and you just wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.

"I- really, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to-" you apologized again, but Iwaizumi interrupted you and his seriousness only made you feel even worse. 

"I'll see you tomorrow."

You watched him walk away quickly, he didn't even look at you when he said goodbye. 

You cursed yourself a bunch of times on the way home, with a crestfallen look on your face and your shoulders slumped. You were hurt that you had ruined your relationship with him, that you had been reckless, that you hadn't been able to wait for the right moment to at least make him see your feelings for him. 

The look on his face when you parted was heartbreaking to remember, you just knew that when you got home you would just try to sleep to forget and possibly avoid seeing him for the rest of your days in Aoba Johsai. 

Although, possibly, it is he who will avoid you until you graduate.

Iwaizumi's only goal was to get to a place where there were no people around, calm down and try to cool down.

He clearly didn't expect you to suddenly kiss him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, but he least expected his second head to wake up as he was enveloped by a new sensation as kissing was and the only thing he wished at the present moment is that you didn't notice, that you didn't notice it as you kept hugging him nor that you noticed it from his pants when you made a slight bow by way of apology for kissing him. 

"Fuck," he complained, because he didn't expect it to hurt either. 

In desperation, he took shelter behind a minimarket, there was no one around and the shade provided a cooling sensation. Still, it looked like it would take him a few minutes to get a grip on the situation. 

"Hajime?" he heard said and quite close, he knew that voice, he felt gazes concentrated on him.

Nerves came over him, he wanted to die of embarrassment. 

Mattsun and Makki were lying a short distance away from him with some snacks they bought at the minimarket.

And if they were there, possibly Oikawa was there too.

"What's wrong?" he heard again.

The devil himself appeared before him, holding an ice cream in his hand. 

There were no words, only silence, Iwaizumi biting his tongue not knowing what to say. The others would simply cross confused glances with him. But as always, Oikawa would be more observant.

And he wouldn't pass up this opportunity to tease him.

"But what the sh... You got it standing!!!?" he exclaimed, his laughter about to burst outrageously from his mouth.

Mattsun and Makki turned their gazes towards Iwaizumi's pants, understanding the situation and having no choice but to join in the teasing. 

"God, you're really hot."

"What mischief have you been up to?"

"Damn it, stop that, it's not standing and I'm not horny, stop it!" he interrupted them with his reddened face, but he could hardly appease the laughter of his friends. 

A few insufferable minutes of laughter, teasing and jokes regarding their embarrassing encounter passed, but at least Iwaizumi had managed to control his friend hiding in his pants. He had no excuse in mind to justify himself, because the truth was that he didn't feel sure if he should mention you. 

Though maybe it's better to say what happened than to come off as a hot piece of shit who'd senselessly gotten an erection in public. 

Reluctantly, Iwaizumi told them about how you went to hug him and how your cute, soft lips made contact with his.

"I never thought that the time would finally come to give you my advice in love, Iwa-chan" Oikawa patted his shoulder as he spoke to him full of drama, certainly, also excited to be able to explore this new side of his best friend. If Iwaizumi would let him. 

"I don't want your advice," he spat at him. "I'll apologize to her tomorrow, I don't want her to take me as if I'm depraved."

Mattsun let out a light chuckle and patted his other shoulder to convey his support.

"I don't think she'll take you for depraved, your body just liked being kissed too much."

"Stop it!" he complained, abruptly removing his hand from his shoulder. 

Anyway, his friends gave him moral support. Although that embarrassing moment of finding the star of the team suffering from an erection, they will never, ever in their lives stop making jokes about it.

Determined to forget that awkward moment when Iwaizumi walked away from you coldly after you accidentally kissed him, you focused all your attention on the class, jotting down as much as you could in your notebook and rereading the subject book. 

A certain prince you dreamed of being with at some point was also sharing that class with you, much to your misfortune, so you did your best to ignore him, but you could sense that from the looks of it, he didn't want to ignore you. 

During the break, you quickly left the classroom accompanied by your friends, you could swear that Iwaizumi tried to approach you, but that would be cruelly delusional after what happened.

You dismissed the idea that he was going to talk to you, but that he was going to talk to someone in your direction. All day long you were sneaking around, evading the questions your friends were asking you about your strange behavior. 

On the other hand, Hajime was getting desperate for not being able to talk to you, he was sure that maybe you did notice that unfortunate erection and that it had bothered you. Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki look on amused at his frustration. 

He couldn't catch up with you that day, he couldn't catch up with you the next day, nor the one after that. 

He was falling into despair. He thought you now had a depraved image of him, he was not at all pleased to know that you might have the worst image of him right now.

He wasn't going to sit idly by about it, but catching you was difficult. 

It wasn't until he finally hit on you during an afternoon after training, you were walking home alone, he was alone too, it was a good opportunity.

"Wait!" you heard him say, you turned to look for the owner of the voice and were petrified to see that it was your now impossible love. 

You were about to slip away again, but his hand clung to your wrist.

"I want to talk to you" he tried again, his tone of voice had softened, you instinctively turned your gaze to him. His eyes, not wanting to be out of tune with his voice, softened as well when he saw your face. "Sorry."

You blinked, your brows furrowed in confusion.

"I reacted inappropriately when you kissed me, I didn't want to make that impression on you" he continued shyly. You anticipated to answer, in your chest you managed to feel a glimmer of relief and hope. 

"N-no no! It's okay, it was my fault. I acted without thinking" you lowered your gaze, your cheeks had started to blush again. "I shouldn't have kissed you like that out of the blue, I'm sorry."

Iwaizumi watched you, feeling something inside himself at seeing you so shy and cowering. 

"I mean, it didn't bother me that you did" he spoke low, your eyebrows raised in surprise and you lifted your gaze again searching for his. "I just didn't know how to react, to tell you the truth, I reacted pretty badly."

"Uhm... I see" you replied confused.

It seemed like the ice between the two of you still couldn't be broken, not until Hajime decided to change the subject.

"So... Are you walking home?" he asks you averting his gaze, he was trying not to make you uncomfortable. You answered yes, with some of the shyness that refuses to leave you. 

Hajime rests his gaze on you and smiles warmly.

"I'll walk you out."

Your eyes light up and your lips spread into a charming smile, in his eyes. 

On the way back home, you managed to progressively break the ice that hindered your interaction a while ago. Everything felt warm and pleasant, but standing at the door of your home, Iwaizumi refused to let you go so soon.

"Uhmm" he hesitates "I was wondering if you have Saturday off?"

Surprise floods you, you tell him you have nothing to do. Hajime asks you if you want to go out with him, you don't think twice and accept.

"Is it a date?" you ask before leaving. 

You notice his gaze avert and his cheeks blush, a face that apparently very few (or only you) have ever seen. 

"Yes, it's a date" he deigns to reply. But not before giving you a smile before leaving.

The stay at the Seijoh feels light, it's been days after clearing things up with Iwaizumi. 

It's also been days after your date.

You two have become quite close during breaks after class, it seems a bit surprising for everyone to see the big ace of the volleyball team being a bit affectionate, considering the temperament that characterizes him. 

Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki don't miss the opportunity to laugh a little at him in your presence. 

"Who knew our Iwa-chan would be the first of us to fall for love" crooned Tooru clasping his best friend irritably against him.

"Says the one who has had several girlfriends and didn't know how to keep them" he replied to the teasing. 

It certainly amused you to see Hajime interacting with his friends. 

"You would have seen how worried he was after you kissed him" Makki mentioned, to your surprise, your face turned completely red.

"Did he tell you about...?" you asked dead embarrassed. 

You got an affirmative answer loaded with amusement.

"Sorry about that too" you heard Iwaizumi say. 

"I think the funniest thing was seeing how he thought you hated him because you unintentionally caused him to get an erection" Oikawa interrupted again.

Only you froze in place as you registered what he had just said. 

Your expression of confusion and silence caught their attention, causing them to shut up quickly.

"I caused what?" you managed to ask. 

You searched for Iwaizumi with your gaze, who seemed to also be confused by your reaction. The others were not far from the same reaction. 

"He didn't tell you?" asked Makki. 

You shook your head. 

All eyes fell on him, who didn't seem to know what to say. 

Soon Mattsun decided it was best to leave you two alone, so he took Oikawa and Makki away before they could say anything again. 

"I literally apologized for my reaction," he told you.

"I thought you apologized for looking at me ugly!" you replied. 

"What?!!! No, I mean, too! But mostly I thought you had noticed and I didn't want to make a 

bad impression on you!"

You both shared confused looks in silence. 

You suddenly cut the tension when you let a laugh escape your lips. Hajime just looked at you even more confused. 

"How hot you are" you tell him between laughs. 

No more seconds pass before he absorbs those giggles as well.

"Maybe I am."

He replies to you as he takes your hand and you walk together to the next class.

[crownmemes]

General Sentences, Vol. 10

(Assorted original sentences. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Being old doesn't make you not a babe."

"You know, I don't have anything to prove to you."

"The human brain can be an unpredictable mystery ride."

"Why be boring when you can be overwhelmingly well-dressed?"

"You’re almost as inspiring as a biscuit."

"Every human being deserves some ice cream."

"I love it when you take charge."

"The fact that you're sexy doesn't mean that you're talented."

"Being feminine doesn't mean that you are not a murderer."

"I bet you're the kind of guy who makes girls want to hang themselves."

"I don't know what to do..."

"You need to leave the country."

"You are being weird."

"I feel ashamed of how I've treated you."

"Stop being sexy."

"Being grumpy is really not helping."

"How do you know my name?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"I hope you took my job offer seriously."

"I sincerely hope you are not suggesting that I have something to do with this."

"Your family should make an effort."

"A philosopher is a loser with a cool title."

"Getting stabbed is very demotivating."

"Don’t forget that some people will love you no matter what."

"There are beautiful girlfriends, and then there are your girlfriends."

"There's nothing wrong with being alone."

"Is that good news or bad news?"

"You're as perfect as a puppy."

"The doctor says you have a mild concussion."

"Your future is a fucked up joyride."

"If one wants to become rich, there is one safe bet: be born rich."

"I think we're being followed."

"You don't look so good."

"How long are you going to refuse to trust me?"

"Wishful thinking is existential dread’s bastard child."

"I appreciate your concern, but I wouldn't have done that anyway."

"There’s no 'i' in 'stupidity'."

"Why do you have such a fear of intimacy?"

"How many people have you killed?"

"What are you insinuating?"

"You're mildly amusing."

"Beware of women who think you're hot."

"Emotions are trying to exploit your brain."

[christinebloodwrittings]

Something exactly like this.

Here we start a new series, at last I regained my love for writing n' reading 🥰

I have no idea how to write Hobie's accent, so apologies for that in advance. Any input and advise is well welcomed ☺️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of blood, injuries, fighting, cursing, anxiety.

Words: 2022

Chapter one: What else you got?

"When will you ever grow up?! Going against our path, is going against the family!" My father yelled, speaking about his religion and how I refused to believe in his insanity while punching the table to accentuate his anger.

"Then maybe I was never really a part of this shit family!" A smack on the face, it came from across my step mother that had entered the conversation, "Never come back, insufferable brat" she spit at me.

I had had it with them, so I flipped them off and left with a duffle bag on my shoulder.

As soon as I arrived to the train station and took seat inside the train, my heart broke, tears streamed down my face, like a wild river I tried to hold back when I looked the disappointment in my father's eyes.

Let's start from the beginning, my name is Y/n L/n, and it's been two weeks since I moved to the big city. A friend got me a job on a coffee shop and a small flat near it, without her I would've slept on the streets probably, so I owe her a lot.

Every day is the same! It's going to drive me crazy. I make the minimum for attending crazy fucked up people! Every day is the same compalints, some about the damm prices, the ice cream flavors, the fact that not always we have cash to break a 20, bitch come on, who buys a two dollar coffee with 20 or 100 bucks?? Seriously, people are crazy, and they take it on me just because I'm on the counter almost all the time.

I'm fucking tired.

Then one night, I was doing inventory when Jess, on the subject that I owe her a lot, she practically begged me to accompany her to a very illegal show downtown, on a sketchy bar no less. "I don't know Jess, those shows aren't really my thing, neither is a lot of people on a confined space" you shrugged, "Come on Y/n, my boyfriend is playing the bass, but I don't wanna go alone, maybe I could even present you to a few people, so you have friends, other than me" I looked at her with a stern look, that was the least of my concerns.

"It's just...you look so lonely and sad all the time, maybe you could have some fun, ya' know, to loosen up the stress from work" before she could keep blabbering reasons to go, I caved. "Fine" she yelled a high pitched "Yay" and hugged me.

It's amazing how easy is to get killed in the city nowadays, my first couple of days working I got shocked with how many corpses I encountered as soon as I opened my apartment door, but then I got used to it? I don't throw up as much as before, so that's a start.

But everything is so messy right now, with V.E.N.O.M tasks forces roaming the streets, people instead of being scared, they've become violent. I have no idea how Jess can be so hyped about a show when there's like an 80% chance we'll get killed in the process.

But hey, YOLO right?

Since it was a punk event, she wanted me to "blend in", as to not dress as a total nerd like I always do according to her. So we stopped at her apartment to get ready.

She lend me a plaid mini skirt, mid thigh stockings, a learher jacket that ended mid torso, a dark red shirt with a weird spider logo, a spiky choker and did a very goth or punk-like work on my face.

I didn't recognized myself, but I didn't quite hated it either.

Black boots with chains completed the look according to her, "Ya' look stunnin', honey" she squealed, coming out of the bathroom ready herself, wearing all things similar to mine, with the addition of a oversized denim jacket filled with band related pins and patches.

"Your boyfriend's, I suppose" she turned back to me, blushed slightly, "He gifted this to me, he's so cool and corny, I love him so much".

I am jealous of her. Her boyfriend has stopped by work a few times, he's tough but nice and very likeable. I could tell he would go to hell and back for her.

I was so fucking jealous of that.

The place wasn't really far from my apartment, which would allow me to slip away in case I needed it, oh boy, not even two seconds inside and I already wanted to run away.

It was a mess of all kinds of black dressed people, like the pride parade but goth, punk and violently weird. Jess seemed to be fine around the mess, she was a natural, totally in her element.

There was this feeling climbing up my spine, weakening my knees and my lungs, anxiety making her debut.

"C'mon let's get to the front before they start playin', otherwise we won't be able to see shit!" She pulled me across the sea of leather and spikes, I sensed a lot of stares and wolf whistles, probably not for me, but it felt so alien to me.

The group made its introduction, the crowd wildly started screaming and jumping, shoving us against the fence that kept us away from the stage. The amps to the limit, and the people jumping and shoving, everything begun to spin, in a haze I believed myself to be drunk but totally sober, "Jess! I wanna leave" I tried to scream but she couldn't hear me. Couldn't move either, trapped in between the fence I could only close my eyes in hopes the pain in my ears and my chest would end soon.

A hand took mine, out of a sudden I was on the other side of the fence. Due to the momentum I clashed against a bunch of pins and chains, "Follow me" He said, not ever letting my hand go, he lead me backstage, where the sound of the still going music and cheering was a bit muffled, barely bearable.

"Better?" I looked up to him, he had a wild black mane, piercings on his brows and his lower lip, stunning factions and he was built amazingly. "Yeah, sorry about the trouble" he chuckled at my embarrassment, "S' nothin', stay here all you need" he winked and rushed back to the stage, the screaming intensified as soon as he did.

A while later, Jess got to the backstage by the arm of her boyfriend, "Oh, honey I'm so sorry, are you feeling okay now?" I shook my head, hugging myself in absolute embarrassment. "'m gonna head back, sorry" she held me as soon as I was about to leave, "First, your knight in denim armor, Hobie I can't thank you enough" she thank him.

So that was his name, Hobie.

"No problem, that was a bad edge" his accent was so thick that's all I got to hear him say. "Hobie we need to scram, they are on their way, get the explosives" said none other than Jess's boyfriend, "Another raid? But babe" she whined, not caring about the sudden violence about to be unleashed apparently.

"Jess we need to leave, now!" I tried to take her away, but she resisted and shoved my hand away from hers, "I'm actually gonna stay for this one, Spider-Man might actually appear this time" She excitedly left with her boyfriend.

How could she just left when there was going to be another raid outside?! "Why today, I knew I shouldn't have come to this stupid thing!" Searching routes, but nothing came to mind, the sound of the tasks forces was loud, and the one from the rebellion was even more so.

Everything went down because of Oscorp taking over, then Spider-Man showed up to shake up the masses into a furious rebellion, it bothered me tat the rebels acted as if the destruction, the purchase of weapons from gangsters, and the eternal bustle, would change the fact that V.E.N.O.M had almost completely taken over the streets. The rebellion regained territory in the last assault, but in that hell several young people died, and not even Spider-Man could do anything about it.

Usually I don't get into that shit, because for fun I rather go dancing at the club, though I admit I threw a Molotov at a task forces's car, once the opportunity presented itself.

When I got out, everything was smoke, explosions, people running, crying and shouting with hate. The alley that led to the passage where I would hopefully make it to my apartment was across the fire. I plucked up my courage and ran, a little difficult because of the platforms on my shoes, the damn mini skirt, and because of the shooting that started when I managed to jump over the puddle of burning gasoline.

I fell and hit all the cement on my legs and arms, I got up quickly because the adrenaline was stronger than the bullet that grazed my knee, so I managed to take refuge in the back of the building.

"Where you think you goin' bitch" A cop grabbed my arm, seeing that I resisted him the baton on his other hand hit the back of my knees and then I had no other choice but to fall, the cut on my knee bleeding even more, but I couldn't feel it yet.

He rises the baton to hit me again, but it got swooped off his hand, in about a second that same cop was literally mummified to the wall, all covered in spider webs.

"You okay?" Red and blue suit, spikes on the head of the mask, denim jacket and boots, yeah a hero alright. "Peachy" He just saved me, but the bitterness from my friend bailing on me, the recent anxiety attack, the raid, the pulsing wound that I made the mistake of acknowledge, and the posible bruise from the baton, got to me pretty fast.

"Go save the others, I'm fine" he didn't moved, instead he stretched his hand towards me, "Let me take you some'ere safe first" normally I would've sent him to hell itself, but taking everything into consideration, I ended up agreeing.

As soon as I took his hand, he pulled me up and into his arms. He secured my waist with his arm, "By the green building is alright" he nodded then fired his web, without warning he took flight, taking an even firmer grasp on my waist.

Meanwhile I hid my face on his neck and yelled a bit.

As soon as we landed I shoved myself off of his grasp, clinging to the fire stairs railing for dear life, "Bit nauseous there love?" He joked, "A warning would've been appreciated" I swallowed the bit of puke that threatened the back of my throat, "But thanks, I'll take it form here".

My knees quivered when trying to make a decent step, the pulsing hurt behind my legs, "Ya' sure?" He asked, getting at a safe distance from my pathetic state, "Yeah, now aren't you needed elsewhere?" He slightly laughed at my embarrassment, "That can wait, they were holding it up, a'right" I could hear his smile under that mask.

"Need help there, love?" He offered, making it sound more like a tease, his hand reaching towards me once more, "I'll be careful" He promised. I caved again, after all, I lived in the eighth floor.

"Now we're good, night spiderman" I tried to close the door but he stopped it with his combat boots, "What" he stayed silent for a second, "Not even a kiss?" He joked? I couldn't tell because of the mask, then he just leaned on the doorframe. I genuinely laughed, like I haven't in a while, "Thanks for the laugh, maybe next time you save me, I'll give you that kiss, how's that?" He tilted his head a bit, like thinking, then just nodded.

I think he was about to say something, but an explosion on the raid site got to his attention, "I think you're needed" When I turned my head around he had already left.

[hadesforpreswrites]

dirty laundry, pt. 2

a/n: here's part 2! i had a lot of fun writing this one! i'm less practiced in writing steamy stuff than i am depressing stuff but i hope you enjoy.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

genre: idiots-to-lovers

warnings: confession, fingering

word count: 4,119

summary: after a confession, things heat up

part one part three part four

“how can someone be so smart and so blind at the same time? i’m basically in love with you, dummy.”

and suddenly everything made sense to y/n. he was right; he always made time for her, even when he was on tour. 

she sat staring at her ice cream as it was melting in the cup. she was trying her best to process the new information, information she had only ever hoped to hear.

noah, on the other hand, was staring at her. he couldn’t believe that he just said that, just like that, on a day like today. 

“you can reject me and we’ll still be fine,” he finally broke the silence.

at this, she turned her eyes to him. he could almost see the question marks swirling in them. “why would i reject you?”

“you’ve been sitting in silence, staring at your ice cream, for the past five minutes, y/n. and i seriously mean it, we’ll be okay.”

“noah, i’m not going to reject you. i just…needed to process for a second because i’m basically in love with you. and i never in a million years thought you’d ever say that. i was content to just hope the feeling would go away on its own. also, you couldn’t have waited until i wasn’t a complete mess?”

“since fucking when?!” he all but shrieked. “i’ve been fighting the urge to tell you that i think about you 90% of the time ever since the day we met.”

“i’ve had a crush on you since the day we met…” she trailed off quietly. “i honestly thought you’d have caught on because of scarlett by now.”

“scarlett knew?!”

y/n looked at him with a dead stare, “we’re roommates, noah.”

“oh, yeah. okay that makes sense.”

a beat of silence.

“also, you aren’t a mess.”

“i’ve been crying for three days straight so my face is red and puffy and i need a shower.”

“not a mess,” he finally put his cup of half-melted ice cream in the cup holder and began to back out of the parking spot. he smiled when he saw her finally take her first bite.

“only 90%?” she asked with a small smirk.

“yeah, well. 5% is bad omens. and the other 5% is olive garden’s endless soups.”

“i’m honored. i thought the soup would be higher.”

“used to be. but then some girl had to waltz into my life.”

“i’m pretty sure i was dragged.”

“how much do i take up in that pretty little head of yours?”

“89%.”

“breakdown, please.”

“5% is ice cream. 5% is dedicated to school. and the last 1% goes to how fluffy ruffilo’s hair is.”

“cool cool cool. note to self: shave best friend’s head.”

“go near that man’s hair with anything remotely looking like clippers and i’ll never speak to you again,” she said, jokingly.

“ouch,” he feigned hurt by grabbing at his chest while sitting at a stoplight. 

“can i…ask a favor?” she asked as the light turned green and they started moving.

“you can ask me anything, anytime.”

“can you stay tonight? i think scarlett had made plans and she won’t go if i’m alone. unless you have plans already, of course,” she said, almost too quickly for him to process the question. 

“of course i’ll stay with you. i was kind of thinking about it anyway,” he answered. “let’s swing by my house first so i can grab some clothes. your favorite person is probably there by now too.”

“jolly?” her voice sounded hopeful.

“no, ruffilo. would you stop calling my bandmates your favorite person? i’m starting to get a complex.”

“i mean, if we’re completely honest with ourselves, my all time favorite person is andy.”

“why does he get number one?!” 

“i’ve known him longest.”

“but you’re in love with me. so i should be number one.” he still couldn’t believe his luck.

“i don’t think that’s how that works,” she put her now empty cup in the free cupholder.

“it is 100% how that works,” he said, pulling into the driveway of his house. 

he heard her unclick her seatbelt before he threw the car in park. when he turned to scold her, he found that she was already turned in her seat, looking at him. she was looking at him in a way he had never seen before. he slowly unclicked his own seatbelt and looked at her with a furrowed brow.

“i just…want to try something,” she said quietly, blush creeping up her neck.

“what’s that?”

as she leaned toward him, he felt himself leaning toward her, meeting her halfway. his eyes widened in shock as he felt her lips meet his before they fluttered shut and he cupped her cheek with a tattooed hand, deepening the kiss.

she pulled back slowly and placed her forehead to his. “you ever feel the need to try that again, you just do it. i’m game,” he said with a smile, causing her to laugh.

“let’s get your stuff,” she said in reply, starting to pull away from him. he stopped her by pulling her by the back of her neck back to him and kissing her again. she giggled into it and said against his lips, “noah.”

“that’s not gonna make me stop, doll,” he didn’t care how she said his name, just that she did.

“i don’t want to make out over the center console of your car,” she laughed again.

“well, fuck, get in the backseat then. it’s pretty spacious,” he said with a hint of seriousness. 

she fully pulled back from him and playfully slapped his chest. “it’s not like you’ll never see me again. you’re staying the night.”

“oh yeah. what’re we waiting for, i have clothes to grab.” he finally turned off the car and jumped out. 

she was shaking her head while laughing as she reached for the handle to the car door. she suddenly heard the door locks click. she looked up at noah who was standing at the front of the car, glaring at her before walking the rest of the way to her side. he unlocked the car and opened the door. “you’re no longer allowed to open doors.”

“but i’m perfectly capable?” she countered as she stepped out into the now brisk air. she shivered. 

“you are. but i’m taking over that role now,” he said, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her to him. he kissed the side of her head as they walked to the front door. 

“what if you’re not there?” she asked as he unlocked and opened the door to the house. 

“nonsense. why wouldn’t i be there?”

“tour?”

“isn’t your program online?”

“what’s your point?”

“you can just come on tour. problem solved.”

“yeah! you should totally come on tour!” they heard a swedish accent ring out at them.

“jolly!”

“y/n!”

he was standing in the living room with his arms open as she ran into them. he swung her around, causing her to laugh. noah looked on at the scene with a small, appreciative smile. after the hell she had been through and then the last few days, she still had the ability to laugh. he knew then that she would be okay.

“you two carry on, i’ll just go get my stuff.”

“you do that,” jolly said, jokingly dismissive, causing noah to roll his eyes as he took off up the stairs. “ruffilo! y/n’s here!”

the guitarist walked in from the kitchen with a drink in hand, with folio in tow. “there she is! we were starting to think noah locked you away.”

“locked myself away, really,” she said, sheepishly. 

“don’t do that, we like having you around,” the drummer said, pulling her into a hug.

“so much so that you should totally come on tour with us!” jolly reiterated his statement from earlier.

“i can’t go on tour with you! who would look after scarlett?”

“scarlett’s a capable young woman,” jolly countered.

“to you she is, you don’t live with her.”

“fair. fine, she comes too.”

“it’ll be a family road trip with music,” ruffilo said with a laugh.

noah smiled to himself as he listened to the four of them have a back and forth while he packed his bag. he decided to pack enough clothes for a week, just in case she needed him that long. really, it was him that would probably need her. he was forever grateful that his bandmates and y/n were so close, it certainly made his life all the easier. 

when he finished, he took the stairs two at a time down. “come one, doll. scarlett probably thinks i kidnapped you.”

“didn’t you though?” folio asked, smirk playing on his face. 

“she came willingly.”

“he bribed me with ice cream.”

“that’ll work every time,” jolly laughed.

“speaking of ice cream,” noah had a sudden realization. “mine’s melting in the car.”

“it’ll do that,” ruffilo stated. he was the closest to y/n out of the other three members of bad omens. he knew something was off with her, he could see the tear stains on her face even in the dim light. but he didn’t say anything, just threw a look to noah when no one else was looking. noah threw one back in response as y/n stood up from the couch and hugged the three of them. 

“seriously, consider it?” jolly asked of her about tour.

“i’ll consider it,” she promised as she walked toward noah who was holding out his hand for her. 

no one batted an eye as she linked their fingers together and waved goodbye.

back in the car, she laughed as she looked at the melted puddle of ice cream in the cup. “you have milk soup.”

“yeah, well. a pretty girl said something about being in love with me and that took precedence.”

she coughed, choking on her laugh. he shook his head as he threw the cups away in the dumpster outside the house before taking his seat in the driver’s seat. 

the drive to her house was relatively quiet, the radio playing quietly in the background. his left hand gripped the steering wheel as his right laid on her thigh. she was tracing the ink that littered his skin on his hand and arm. 

there was an air of apprehension in the vehicle, not thick but there. he’d spent the night at her house many times but never under these circumstances and usually on the couch. would he default to the couch or would she invite him to sleep in her bed? he decided he didn’t care, as long as he could check on her whenever he needed.

when they pulled into the driveway of her house, they noticed that andy’s car was missing but scarlett’s was still there. it was still a couple hours before her plans so she was probably getting ready.

noah grabbed his bag and opened the passenger door, holding out his free hand to her as she stepped out of the car. they walked through the still unlocked front door and were met with the sound of music permeating the house, sounds that meant scarlett was indeed getting ready.

noah started toward the living room after they took their shoes off at the door with his bag but felt a tug on his arm causing him to look back at y/n. “where you going?” she asked. 

“couch?”

“you can put your stuff in my room, it’s okay.”

he beamed at her as they walked down the hall. he entered her room as she stepped into scarlett’s to let her know the plan. 

he set his bag on the bed and wandered around, looking for the plug for the lights. when he finally found it, he turned the blue lights on and felt a weight suddenly depart from him. it felt more normal now. he straightened the piles of books on the floor and put the clothes he found there in the hamper in her bathroom before settling on her bed and fumbling for the remote to the tv.

y/n peeked around the corner into scarlett’s bathroom, silently asking permission to enter. it was granted, it’s always granted.

“there’s light in your eyes again, my love,” the other woman turned and pulled her into a hug. “remind me to thank the boy. and the inventor of ice cream.” 

y/n laughed, causing scarlett to smile brightly. her best friend was going to be okay.

“so,” y/n started as she absentmindedly started picking up various makeup that was scattered on the bathroom counter. “noah’s staying the night.”

“i figured.”

“and i might have kissed him.”

scarlett’s arm dropped from her eye. “YOU DIDN’T?!Y/N!”

“i did,” she hid behind her hands.

“and?”

“and he kissed back and before that he said he loved me and i confessed to him. it was very sweet.”

“FINALLY!”

the two women heard a knock on scarlett’s closed bedroom door. “yes?” she called.

“is everything okay in there? there’s a lot of yelling…” noah trailed off. 

scarlett took three big steps to the door and pulled it open. “listen here, singer boy. just because i happen to enjoy your friendship does not mean i won’t end you so help me god.”

“help me out here?” he looked to y/n, who was sitting on the bed, smiling at scarlett’s antics. 

“i told her.”

“oh, that makes more sense now. i got a nearly identical speech from the guys when i told them just now.”

“good,” scarlett said, heading back to the bathroom to finish applying her makeup.

“now both of you, out. this requires concentration,” she held up a false eyelash.

“love you,” y/n said as she walked out the door.

“love you more,” scarlett replied as the door shut.

“you two have the strangest relationship,” noah said with a laugh as they entered y/n’s room again.

“yeah, well,” y/n said as she rummaged through her dresser for clean clothes. 

“hey, before you go in there,” noah started, realizing that she was about to take a shower. “where on earth is your remote?”

“oh! it’s in the pocket of the long pillow,” she walked to where she was laying when he first found her today and plucked the remote from the side pocket of the pillow and handed it to him. 

“thank you, doll.”

she hummed as she shut the bathroom door. he heard the shower speaker turn on and music start to pour out of it as the water turned on. he smiled when he heard her singing along to “like a villain” and laughed when it was followed by a bts song which was followed by the doors. that was one of the things he loved about her, she didn’t care about genre when it came to music, she just liked what she liked. 

after about 30 minutes, he heard the speaker turn off and the door open. he was met with steam rolling into the bedroom.

“christ, woman, did you commune with satan in there?”

“not this time. just needed to feel clean.”

“and do you?”

“mhmm,” she said as she flopped on the other side of the bed. “you turned my lights back on,” she observed.

“is that okay?”

she rolled over to look at him. the tear stains were gone, her eyes were brighter than earlier. “definitely.”

he let whatever he put on the tv play in the background as he slid down to lay down facing her. “do you feel better?” he asked, quietly as he combed through her damp hair with his fingers. 

her eyes closed at the contact. “so much, thank you.”

“it’s all you, doll.”

“no, it’s not. it’s all of you guys.”

he smiled and pulled her to him. after another 30 minutes had passed there was a quiet knock at the door. he turned, just enough to see scarlett poke her head in. y/n lifted her head, eyes groggy from falling asleep, and placed her chin on his side as she too looked at her best friend.

“i’m heading out. i don’t know when i’ll be home tonight, if i’ll be home tonight,” she wiggled her eyebrows. 

“get it, girl,” y/n said sleepily, causing the other two to laugh.

“take care of her, yeah?” scarlett said to noah.

“of course. have fun.”

“oh, i intend to,” she cackled as she closed the door. 

“she really is her own character,” noah chuckled.

“she is. but she balances me out.”

“i can see that. go back to sleep, doll,” he kissed her forehead.

“no,” she said defiantly. 

“no?” he cocked an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

“no,” she placed a hand on his cheek before placing her lips to his again.

this time was less tentative on both their parts as they moved in sync, deepening the kiss. she started to lean back, pulling him on top of her. he moved with her, letting her lead, knowing she’d stop them when things went too far for her. 

he let one of his hands wander down her side, stopping at her hip. he felt her hook her leg to his waist and let his hand continue to the back of her thigh, holding her there. he groaned when she moved against him. he kissed down her jaw, down her neck, and lightly bit the hollow spot, causing her to gasp.  her hands were in his hair as he sucked on the hollow of her neck where he had bitten. he ground his hips into hers, his covered hardness finding her clothed core. she moaned at the contact, spurring him on. he kissed back up her neck and found her lips again, their tongues fought for dominance, his ultimately winning as she moaned again as he ground his hips into hers again. he kissed down the other side of her jaw and to her neck, giving her some breathing time.

“noah,” she breathed out.

“do we need to stop?” he asked, breathing hard. 

“no, not yet.”

he looked her in the eye, her pupils were blown and he could feel her breath on his face. “you’re not just saying that, are you?”

“no. i need…” she trailed off.

“what do you need, baby? you need only ask, i’ll give you anything you want.”

“i need you to touch me, please,” she whined.

“because you asked so nicely,” he sensed there was more to her request. “what else do you need?”

“no need, just want.”

“well, what do you want?”

“your shirt off.”

“done,” he sat up and pulled the garment over his head and threw it to the ground. his eyes fluttered shut when her hands started to trail down his torso. after a moment he grabbed both her wrists in his hand and held them above her head. a brief thought entered his head, “is this okay?”

she nodded.

“words, baby. words.”

“it’s okay,” she breathed out. 

“good girl,” he purred as he leaned down to connect their lips again. his free hand traveled under her shirt. she moaned in his mouth when he started to massage her unobstructed breast. she whined when he rolled his hips into hers once again. she let out a breath as he moved his hand down her stomach toward the waistband of her shorts. he let his fingers slip just passed the elastic and stopped there. he looked at her, her eyes closed as she tried to control her breathing. “still okay?”

she nodded again.

“baby,” he warned. 

“still okay,” she let out a shaky breath as she opened her eyes to look at him. he saw no hesitation, only a softness he had never seen before.

he nodded and, still looking in her eyes, allowed his hand to travel further into her shorts and under her underwear. tentatively, he ran a finger up her folds. she was so wet, his finger was instantly coated. he reveled in the fact that it was him that made her this wet. he slowly pushed his forefinger into her, watching for any change in her body language. after pumping his finger a few times, he asked, “think you can take another? use your words like the good girl you are.”

“yes, noah,” she said, looking him in the eye as he started to insert a second finger. her breath hitched at the stretch, her eyes screwed shut. when she breathed again it came out shakier than before.

“baby,” noah started.

“it’s okay. i’m okay,” he wasn’t sure if she was saying it to him or herself.

“baby, look at me,” her eyes slowly opened. “this does not have to continue right now.”

“no, it’s okay,” she smiled at him, her hand pulling free of his constraint and caressing his cheek. he leaned into her touch before he continued his ministrations inside her. 

her hand made its way to his hair, she tugged ever so slightly every time she clenched around his fingers, causing him to moan. when her breath started coming out in short bursts, he let go of her other hand which quickly attached itself to his bicep, her fingernails digging into his inked skin. she let out a whine with each breath. he could tell she was close.

“it’s okay, baby. let go,” he whispered in her ear. and she did, the sound she made he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. he pumped his fingers in her as she rode out her first-ever orgasm. “look at you, my sweet girl, so beautiful,” he said as she started to come down. 

he pulled his fingers out, not breaking eye contact as he brought them to his lips. his eyes shut as he relished the taste of her on his tongue. one day, maybe not so far out, he would be able to taste her from the source; he almost couldn’t wait.

“woah,” she breathed out, causing him to chuckle.

“woah indeed,” he said as he pressed his lips to hers in a short kiss before rolling over to the other side of the bed to catch his breath.

she turned on her side, facing him, and brushed the hair that had fallen on his forehead. he hummed as he felt her fingers on his skin.

as if he had forgotten something, he sat straight up. “i need to take a very quick, hopefully, shower.”

“but,” she started. “why?”

he looked at his lap and back at her with a cocked eyebrow. she followed his eyeline and blushed. “oh. i mean, i could…” she trailed off. 

“as much as i have dreamed to feel your hands or mouth on me, and believe me i dreamed, i think it’s best to do this one step at a time.”

“oh,” was all she said as she looked away.

“doll, look at me,” he pleaded, she did. “if you still want to tomorrow, i’m all yours. hell, i’m all yours anyway.”

“promise?”

“promise. on olive garden’s never-ending soup, i promise,” he said with a faux seriousness causing her to giggle. “now, you watch whatever the hell is on the tv and try to go to sleep. i’ll be right back.”

“‘kay,” she said as she turned to the tv.

he made the short distance to the bathroom and shut the door. leaning his back against it, he smiled, giddy. then he looked down and sighed. “i must be an idiot,” he said to himself as he turned on the shower. ”girl of my dreams practically begging to touch me and i turn her down,” he said as he stripped and stepped into the shower.

he hissed as he wrapped his hand around his aching member. at least he didn’t have to conjure up a fantasy this time; he just thought of a few minutes ago. her head tilted back, mouth open, fingers digging into his skin. he pumped himself until he came and watched the result wash down the drain before washing himself, using her products.

when he emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel because he forgot his shorts, he saw her curled up on top of the blanket fast asleep. he smiled to himself as he rummaged through his bag in search of shorts. 

once dressed, he climbed into what he is now deeming his spot and pulled the blanket out from under her and placed it over the two of them. he wrapped his arm around her and she moved so her head was on his shoulder and her leg was thrown over his.

he went to sleep with a smile on his face that night.