#so every friday at lunch time it would be time for 'hot lunch' and lucky kids whose parents had money would get fast food for lunch

[aggressionbread]

these things were like the joy of ordering stuff online before ordering stuff online was really a thing

[kinglivv]

Is it Casual Now?

Kate Lethbridge Stewart x reader

Summary: You and Kate are closer than what friends with benefits should really be.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sex, dysfunctional relationship

A/N: based off the chappell roan song!

You’d promised yourself you’d stop sleeping with her.

You hadn’t told Kate this of course, but then why would you? It was casual. She’d told you that. She’d made it explicitly clear whenever you’d asked the dreaded “what are we?” question. You’d overheard her say it to Mel. You saw it in the way she never mentioned you to her kids.

The thing was, sex with Kate Stewart could never be casual.

Casual was not thinking about her every waking moment. Casual was not having an album of her in your camera roll. Casual was not baby-sitting her cat when she had a late night at the office.

But that doesn’t seem to occur to her and so, you decide, it’s probably time to stop having sex with your boss.

This plan lasts all of three weeks. Three weeks of ignoring her glances, missing her calls and pretending not to notice her stuff littered around your flat.

And then, as fate has it, you’re assigned to a stake-out with her. It was pure coincidence - you were the only two with enough experience and, as it happens, enough flexi-hours left to work outwith the usual 9 to 5.

You sit in the dark with her in silence for all of 30 minutes, before she turns to you and gives you that look. You know you don’t stand a chance and within minutes, you’re allowing her to clamber into you lap, willingly pushing your seat back and then she’s knee-deep in the passenger seat and her mouth is on you. You come on the expensive leather of the UNIT-issue car and you’re thanking your lucky stars for the tinted windows.

Later, when you’ve got her in the backseat and she’s in your arms, breathing finally evening out, she looks up at you and smiles, “Missed you.”

She doesn’t even realise you’ve been avoiding her. She thinks you’ve just been busy.

And just like that you settle into your old routine.

It used to be a rare occasion. It first happened after a tipsy kiss at the work Christmas do, and then a few months later it happened again after a successful mission when you were both giddy from the adrenaline. Then it became every few weeks. Then, it became every Friday evening. Then it became every Saturday morning, because you kept staying the night.

You talk to Mel about it briefly. She’s the only one who knows there’s anything going on between you and Kate, and she tells you bluntly that you shouldn’t be lusting after a twice-divorced, emotionally unavailable woman who was heading up the most clandestine department in Government. In other words, you’re a loser.

So, you try a different strategy to get over her. Said strategy involves sex with someone else from Tinder following a mediocre date. You can’t find your favourite bralette and although she’s pretty, she doesn’t make you come. It’s only afterwards when she’s fallen asleep that you remember the bralette’s in Kate’s dresser.

The following night, Kate turns up on your front step in a red silk dress and pins you against the door. She’d been at some boring dinner. She told you she liked the idea of your lap, her dress around her waist and your strap dipping in her. Just like that, your plan once again goes out the window.

You meet her mum one morning when you’re leaving Kate’s house for work. Kate mumbles some story about you needing to stay over because you had no hot water, and the old lady takes it at face value. You chat to her at the breakfast table whilst Kate makes coffee, and find you have everything in common. Before you know it, you’ve got an invite to her holiday home in St Ive’s - she’s too old to get down there now and how have you never visited before?

The holiday there with Kate is heavenly. You spent a whole week sleeping next to her in bed. She shows you her favourite lunch spot. You teach her how to plait your hair. You fuck her on the beach. Because your whole relationship revolves around sex. Of course. Obviously.

You argue about it once. Just the once.

You’re watching a movie, bowl of popcorn between you. It’s one of the rare evenings you’ve both managed to get home, and when you’d turned up at her door she’d held up a DVD of the Italian Job and invited you in.

You found yourself gazing at her in the light of the television, the chattering mere background noise.

“I could do this forever, you know,” you confess softly.

She tears her eyes away from the screen, smirks at you.

“No attachments, remember?” She teases.

Suddenly any semblance of peace and relaxation you were feeling evaporates. The anxiety curls up in your stomach like a dead spider.

“Yeah because our relationship is nothing more than sex,” you respond sarcastically.

She looks taken aback. You’re picking a fight, you know, but you’ve been desperate for an opportunity.

“We’re not together, Y/N.” She points out.

“Yeah but you’ll act like it. When it suits you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“We’re literally sat here watching your favourite movie at 10pm,” you say, “I have keys to your place. You know my middle name. You do know what I mean.”

“I really don’t.” She says, in that flat tone she uses at work when she makes an order. It means she’s right and she’s not entertaining any debate.

“Fuck off, Kate,” you shove the blankets off and hope she hears the door slam behind you.

She pulls you into her office the next day, and apologises for arguing but doesn’t apologise for what she said. She kisses you and you can’t help but forgive her.

The thing is, Kate gets you. She knows exactly what you want. She buys you matching lingerie for your birthday. She brings you coffee at work. She fucks you after a near death experience so you can feel something. She gives you lifts to your pilates class. She moans something suspiciously close to “I love you” when she comes in your shower, and you do your best to forget about it. She helps you choose what colour to paint your kitchen. She gets you off again. And again and again. The cycle is inescapable, all because you’re too weak to say no to those eyes.

The tipping point is some time around the one year mark, when this dilemma of yours is at least 5 months old. You can’t remember how many times you’d mentally called it off.

You’re in her bed (where else would you be?), suitably fucked and lying half on top of her, a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Her phone pings, and you groan as she pulls away to pick it off the bedside table.

“Oh,” she remarks, reading the message. “Charlotte’s cancelled dinner with Gordy and his new girlfriend tonight.”

“What?” You mumble, half asleep and pressing into her neck further.

“Charlotte.” She repeats. “We were meant to be going for dinner tonight with Gordy. He’s got a new girlfriend he wants to formally introduce to the family. But she’s got a migraine, says she’s not coming.”

You were used to the background noise of Kate’s family life. Charlotte and Gordy didn’t feature greatly in your relationship, busy at university, and Kate had purposely kept you at arms length from them. You knew everything about Charlotte and Gordy, but you’d never met them and they’d never met you.

“Do you…” she says hesitantly, “do you want to come? The reservations for four, and you know how much I hate meeting his rotation of girlfriends. I can’t do it alone.”

You look up at her.

“I thought I was a separate thing to your kids?”

“Yeah but, you’re one of my best friends. I’ll tell them that.”

You sigh an agreement, trying not to think of that word “friends”, and before you know it you’re sat next to her in a fancy restaurant opposite Gordy - who is rather disconcertingly the spitting image of his mother - and his timid girlfriend.

Kate’s hand is dancing on your thigh. You’re trying not to think about the suit she’s wearing. Gordy’s looking in between you two suspiciously, and vaguely you wonder if he’s used to his mother’s antics, if you’re not the first girl she’s fawned over.

She excuses herself between the main course and dessert and as she disappears into the bathroom she winks at you. You muster some excuse about needing to check your make up, and then you’re slipping into the bathroom behind her, locking the door and pleased to see there’s a mirror over the sink.

You bend her over it and fuck her from behind (you know that gets her off fastest and time is of the essence here), but you can’t quite bring yourself to meet her eyes in the mirror. Not three minutes later, she’s leaning into back against the sink and you’re straightening out her lapel and wiping away her smudged mascara. She dips down and kisses you, pushes you against the wall, starts to fiddle with the hem of your skirt.

“Wait, Kate. Stop,.” you push her off you. She steps back, frowning.

“What?” She asks.

“You’re not fucking me in a restaurant whilst your son waits at our table.”

She looks crestfallen. Offended, even. Not at your refusal, but rather at the way you’d laid out the reality of the situation so bluntly.

You return to the table - Gordy and his girlfriend seem too wrapped up in each other to have noticed your absence - and you can’t help but feel somewhat bitter and used. The atmosphere is icy. Maybe you are just some colleague she bangs on her sofa when she needs it.

Afterwards, when you’re sat in your car outside the restaurant, you send her the fatal text.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

She doesn’t reply.

[hotgirlmav]

Fatal Attraction — Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x Reader

Pairing: Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Female!Reader (18+)

Description: Much like every other person that came across Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, you had developed quite the crush on him. What made you different, though, was that you were the niece of his direct superior. He knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn’t entertain the idea in the slightest, but a little teasing never killed anyone, right?

Warnings: Explicit language, insane dirty talk, semi-possessive Iceman, sexual thoughts and tension, allusions to smut, so much pining, degradation kink, Iceman not wanting to pull a Maverick, Iceman doing just that. You know the drill.

Word Count: 4,279.

A/N: Not only was this much longer than I expected, but it ended up being much dirtier. I’M SORRY, Iceman just does something to me. He does something to all of us. Val Kilmer, you will PAY FOR THIS.

Requests are still open!

Another Friday morning. How lovely.

You were currently making your way to Commander Mike Metcalf’s office, commonly known around those grounds as Viper. The skylight beaming throughout the windows of the naval building illuminated the hallway before you, further reminding you of just how tired you were.

Every single day for the entire month that you were in San Diego, your uncle would forget his lunch. In several ways, his unintentional forgetfulness reminded you very deeply of your father, further proving just why those two were best friends. Had it not been for you, the containers so articulately and thoughtfully prepared by your aunt would have remained right where she left them on the granite countertop.

The first time it happened, you figured that you would just take it to the base on your way out, seeing as you had a few light errands to run. That was all it took for that very action to become a key part of your daily routine for the entire duration of your visit. You would never complain, though. Not when you were happily occupying the guest bedroom in his very, very beautiful house.

To be quite fair, not all of it was so bad. It thrilled you to see the stunning aircrafts taking off on the runways as you stole glances out of the windows, and it was always fun to hang out in your uncle’s office. The best parts, however, were the pilots.

God, the pilots.

The naval aviators studying at Top Gun were nothing short of cocky, but it wasn’t as if they had no reason to be. They were young, they were the best at what they did, they were hot shit— they were the future of the Navy. The very world was at their fingertips, and they were well aware of that fact.

Your uncle had warned you about these men. Some of them got a bit too cocky, resulting in them crashing and burning. Sometimes metaphorically, sometimes literally, as brutal as that was. For the most part, you heeded his warnings with ease, taking the warmest comfort in knowing that his expertise on the subject had been perfected over the course of your entire lifetime. You had been flirted with by quite a few of the men, but it never seemed to have any impact on you. None of them really captured your interest, nor did they properly catch your eye.

Well— none of them except Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky, of course.

From the moment you laid your eyes on him, you were completely hooked. You had no idea whether it was because of his undeniably indescribable beauty, his electrifyingly powerful aura, his domineering and enigmatic attitude, his precision when flying, his irresistibly alluring charm, or his very evident intellect. All you knew was that whatever it was, it completely consumed you. It devoured you.

Never in your life had you hungered for another human being so deeply. The very sight of him set your heart ablaze, despite him acting as a walking example of everything your uncle warned you against.

In your most humble defense, you thought your uncle should consider himself lucky that you weren't madly in love with Maverick, but that was another story.

The very thought of Iceman put quite the smile on your face as you entered the vacant office, any remainder of sleep in your eyes disappearing into thin air. You inhaled sharply as a means to take a deep breath and sauntered over to his desk, absentmindedly leaving the door open behind you.

Your mind began to wander in just the few seconds it took for you to walk. What was Iceman doing? Would he be happy to see you, if he even did? How did flying go today? Did Maverick piss him off again? You didn’t even have to ask that one, you already knew what the answer was.

What went through that pretty head of his? After asking yourself the question, you realized just how much you truly wanted to know the answer to it. Even though you had only been in his presence for just a month and you had only slightly conversed with one another, you wanted to know everything there was to know about the enigmatic man. You wanted to know why he was the way he was, why he did the things that he did. Everything. You wanted to go back to where it all began, you wanted to know every minute detail that he probably hadn’t even noticed himself. You wanted to know if the cheeky little glances and the few devious smirks he’d flash you whenever you briefly spoke meant anything, or if that was just something he did to everyone.

After just a moment, a very particular voice rang through your ears like no other, your heart falling to your feet once you heard it. You hadn’t even reached the desk once it pierced your ears; the containers were still in your hand.

“There she is.”

You turned your head and there he was.

A subtly grinning Tom Kazansky, fully adorned in his flight suit. Because of how engulfed you were in your own thoughts, you didn’t even realize that training must have been over. Men had been roaming the halls outside the office for a few minutes now, much to your chagrin. That man in particular, however, noticed you the second he entered the building.

Immediately, your lips were curling into a wide grin, not even being able to fight your excitement as you giggled at just the sight of him. Trying to hold your composure as calmly as possible, you turned and set the containers on Viper’s desk, your back now facing him. “Good morning, Ice.”

Had you not missed making an appearance yesterday, you felt as though you would have been much more collected. It was the only day in the past month that you didn’t show up to drop off lunch, and the Iceman withdrawal was hitting you with the intensity of ten hammers. The thing that bothered you the most about it was the fact that he couldn’t have been thinking about you. No, of course not. While you were lying awake at the thought of not seeing Tom Kazansky for the first time in a month, you were sure that he was chatting up some blonde, sipping his ice water with his aviators on his stupidly beautiful face.

That asshole.

“I missed you yesterday.” He told you so casually, treating the words as if they were as simple as him asking you what the weather was. To him, the words were nothing more than a simple little fact, but to you, they were the warmest sentiment you had ever received. Your heart both stopped and sped up as your eyes widened, your back still turned to him.

You stopped dead in your tracks as you heard his words, something that did not go unnoticed by him. Your eyebrows were furrowed as your widened eyes stayed firmly on the surface of the desk. Your fingers were still lightly planted on the containers while you stood, not even looking over your shoulder as you spoke before you could think. “You noticed I was gone?”

Iceman was aware of your reaction the second you froze. He didn’t fight the smirk that was forming on his face, seeing as your back was still turned to him. Had you been looking at him, he wouldn’t have embarrassed you with the way his gaze was glued to your figure. Had you been looking at him, you would have seen the way his eyes were heavily clouded with lust as they were planted on you. Had you been looking at him, you would have seen the way his cheek was hollowed from the way he was biting the inside of it. Had you been looking at him, you would have seen the way he was eye-fucking you the same way you did to him whenever he had his back to you.

Within the next few seconds, though, the words that fell from his lips seemed to be what sent you over the edge. You could practically hear your heart pounding out of your chest as you felt your entire body heat up. Weirdly enough, even as hot as your skin felt, you felt goosebumps rising along your spine.

“I notice a lot of things about you.”

That was enough for you to finally let go of the container, making an attempt to face him very casually. Your body turned and you immediately cleared your throat at the sight of him, trying your hardest to disguise it as something very normal. Even under all of his aviation gear, you could see that his toned body was a bit tense. His sunglasses must have been in one of his pockets, seeing as you had a full view of his face.

“Like?” You further egged him on, mentally patting yourself on the back for it.

“Yeah, that’s right. Fall into the trap. Take the bait. Come on.” You thought to yourself as you gazed over at him, silently hoping he wouldn’t examine your face the way you were trying to examine his.

You silently hoped that he would be oblivious to your feelings about him, but even the furthest person in the building could identify the lust in your eyes. You were blinking almost every second as a means to suppress your excitement, but there was no use. His eyes were firmly fixated on yours, and you could feel your heart continue to race as a result. You wondered if he saw the look in your eyes for what it was; a mixture of lust, desire, and admiration.

For someone as cold as Iceman was, he was not an asshole. He could see the look in your eyes as clear as day, of course he could. He recognized that very look in nearly every woman that looked at him. The most notable difference, though, was that he wanted you to look at him.

To say that Tom Kazansky had quite an effect on people, typically women, was an extreme understatement. From his enchantingly full lips, to his quite muscularly toned frame, to his domineering aura, even to his precision, it was safe to say that he knew all eyes were on him when he entered a room. For the love of all that is holy, he’s Iceman.

He’d be a fool to think that he wasn’t the subject of most people’s desires, and a fool was the last thing he was.

Regardless of how he knew people gawked at him, dreamt of him, and even craved him, none of it seemed to truly capture his interest. For all that it was worth, the man was practically next to unattainable. He liked to have fun, yes, but all of his focus went to flying. It was very safe to say that people were able to catch his eye, but never his interest.

Everyone except you, that is.

From the moment you caught his eye on the first day you came, he was intrigued. The pure confusion in your eyes as you tried to navigate the corridors had him in quite a trance, which did not go unnoticed by his friends.

“Slider, who is that?” The words fell from his lips with what was almost an embarrassing amount of interest. His eyes fixated on you as if he was scared to look away.

Slider glanced over at you once he heard his friend ask the question, his eyebrows raising at the sight. There was no denying that you were a beautiful woman. From the way your precious sundress hugged your waist and flowed just to your mid-thigh, Iceman had to nudge Slider to prevent him from devouring your body with his eyes. In doing so, Slider figured that he was telling him to back off. He figured that he was claiming you, and due to the fact that Slider was very highly up Iceman’s ass, he would oblige.

Before he could answer, you met both of their gazes and took a sharp breath, assuming that they were silently laughing at you for how lost you were. You flashed a gentle smile once you saw Slider kindly nod at you as a greeting, making your way over.

“Excuse me.” Your heavenly voice filled Iceman’s ears, causing him to stand up straight. You were speaking to Slider when you went over, but once you caught a glimpse of the man beside him, your mind went completely blank. Your lips parted as you gazed up at him, blinking a few times before you forced the words out. “Do you know where I can find Mike Metcalf’s office?”

“Viper?” Iceman asked with furrowed eyebrows, knowing you must not have been from around there by the way you neglected Viper’s callsign. You rolled your eyes at your own mistake and let out a small giggle, nodding your head.

“Yes, I’m sorry. He’s my uncle, I was just dropping by because he forgot his lunch.” You sweetly told the two pilots, both of them clearly quite surprised at the revelation.

“No, no way. You’re too pretty to be related to Viper.” Slider casually remarked, earning one of the coldest glares that Iceman could conjure up. You let a small laugh out at the flattery, shaking your head slightly in response.

“He’s my dad’s best friend. I’ve just known him as my uncle my whole life.” You gently spoke, a cheeky little grin on your face as you decided to tease the taller man. “I’ll tell your commander that you said that.”

Slider’s life flashed before his eyes as Iceman let out a cool chuckle at your words, causing you to silently and subtly swoon. You glanced over at him with a warm grin, your breath hitching in your throat as you finally met his intense gaze.

“Two doors to the left, sweetheart. You were almost there.” Iceman told you in a tone that would’ve made anyone fold right then and there, the smirk on his face tying it all up. You immediately swallowed once you felt your mouth water and shifted in your stance, not being able to help the smile that was on your face.

“Thank you, um…” You began, now noticing that they hadn’t introduced themselves to you.

Slider opened his mouth to speak, but it was no use. Iceman was already politely extending his large hand, the size of it almost making you faint.

“Iceman.” He stated it in a way that you couldn’t properly identify. It wasn’t cocky, but it was definitely sure of himself. Yes, that was it. He was very sure of himself.

You shifted the container to one of your hands and used your free one to grip his, the firmness in both of your hands as you shook causing you to suppress a literal moan. Your hand was quite small and warm, as opposed to his large, cold one. Your skin was soft; his was calloused. You didn’t want to let go, but any second longer would have resulted in you just pouncing on him.

“Iceman.” You repeated in a mutter, causing his smirk to return and his attraction to replace all hints of professionalism that still remained in his expression. You took a deep breath and retracted your hand, kindly smiling at the pair of them as you snapped out of it. “Thank you both.”

Once you began to walk away, Iceman made no attempt to hide the fact that he was gazing at you. Your figure was now an image that was burned into his memory, something that came in handy in his dirtiest and most desperate moments. You truly would never know that Iceman had taken quite an interest in you long before you had taken one in him.

“Viper’s niece. There’s your answer.” Slider chirped out as an answer to his former question, looking down at his watch.

“Not biologically.” Iceman responded in a way that sounded all too familiar, causing him to furrow his own eyebrows. He didn’t even know where that came from.

“Yeah, Ice, good luck with that. See how well Commander Viper would take you being laid up with his niece, blood or not.” Slider dryly laughed out loud, shaking his head. “Don’t shit where you eat. Don’t pull a Maverick.”

The reference to Maverick relentlessly trying to get Charlie was something they all made fun of, despite not knowing that he had been successful in doing so. Immediately, Iceman’s face dropped.

Maverick. Maverick would try you. Holy FUCK, Maverick would definitely try you.

“Shut up, Slider.” Iceman seethed through his teeth lowly at the thought, taking a sharp breath. Once he put his aviators on, he only tried to disregard the thought of you. He had worked incredibly hard to get where he was, and he refused to put his lust before his work. That was the difference between him and Maverick. He was logical, and Maverick was the most impulsive person in the world.

Iceman cleared his throat as the thought of meeting you flashed throughout his mind so briefly, now meeting your gaze. You recognized the way he cleared his throat and didn’t even try to hide your smirk, as it was the way you always did when he teased you.

You made him flustered.

“Like what, Iceman?” You asked in an even softer tone than before, your head tilting to the side. You could see the lust in his eyes for the first time since you met him, trying not to let it corrupt your position of having the upper-hand.

In true Iceman fashion, however, he refused to not be the one in control.

A cold chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, now standing up straight. The sound of his boots hit the floor in a way that made you feel as if you were listening to a sweet tune. He slowly inched inside of the office before he used his large hand to push the door shut behind him, doing so very quietly.

“I don’t think you can handle it.” He teased you in a light tone, his voice almost intimidating you as you tried your hardest not to shift. Now, he was standing in front of you, the smirk on his face prominent as he used his tongue to wet his lips. Unbeknownst to you, he only did so to see if you would gaze at his lips during the process. Much to his satisfaction, you did.

Your lips parted as you basked in the sight, completely submitting to him in that moment. He wanted the power, and you let him mercilessly take it. Trying your best to fight against the situation, you gulped silently and said the very first words that crossed your mind.

“Try me.”

For such small and seemingly harmless words, they truly acted as the match to the sensitive gas tank that was his self-restraint. He knew that it was incredibly unwise to jeopardize his position by involving himself with you, but he could no longer control himself. From your parted lips to your doe-like eyes, he found himself unable to resist you. The privacy of the four walls in the office intoxicated him in a way alcohol would. The mere fact that he could make a complete mess out of you with no one knowing filled his head, but what prevented him from doing so was the fear of getting caught.

Fuck, you two couldn’t get caught.

For the love of God, you were in his commander’s office. To add even more danger to the situation, you were the niece of that very commander. Not only would he be severely punished if he was caught with someone there, but if he was caught with you there, Viper would just fuck him up. None of that mattered to him in the moment, though. The way you were slightly backed up to where you were standing in front of the desk was enough for him to disregard his thoughts. Gazing at the needy little look in your eyes, he decided to use the risks to his advantage.

Still standing right in front of you, he took his time in dipping his head down, your hands practically shaking as you felt his lips not even a few centimeters away from yours. You could feel his minty breath hit your lips as he parted his own, causing you to grip the edges of the desk behind you.

“How would your uncle feel if he knew this is what you did at his job, hm?” He whispered to you, his lips slightly brushing against yours as he spoke. He was that close to you.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit ashamed, even though that was not his goal at all. If you weren’t as aroused as you were, you probably would have stopped whatever was transpiring between the pair of you.

“How would he feel if he knew that while he was out serving his country, you were in his office, practically begging to be fucked by one of his colleagues?” His whisper hit your lips once more, your eyebrows furrowing in desperation as your mouth slightly fell open. You wanted him, you craved him. You needed him.

The look on your face caused his large hands to find shelter on your hips, his grip making it seem as though he was holding onto you for dear life. He effortlessly lifted you off of your feet and almost roughly set you down on the desk, wasting no time in spreading your legs for him to step in between.

You didn’t even slightly resist. You were his for the taking.

“How would he feel,” he trailed, his rough fingertips running along your bare thighs before he lifted one of his hands, gently yet firmly gripping your neck with it. “If he knew that you were on his desk, begging to be fucked like the dirty little slut you are?”

You had never been spoken to that way, both sexually and non-sexually. Your heart was racing as the words traveled from your ears to your stomach, warming your body up entirely. You couldn’t even speak. All you could do was gently grip the fabric of his flight suit, which wasn’t aiding your desire for him in the slightest bit.

“He could walk in here at any time, but you don’t care.” Iceman coldly chuckled at your needy little expression, his lips still hardly away from yours. Teasing you even further, his head tilted to the opposite side that yours was tilted to, the tip of his tongue lightly running across your parted lips. You finally let a small whine out, having had quite enough of his teasing. You swatted at his chest and properly crashed your lips onto his, silently thanking every higher power for the fact that he returned your kiss.

The kiss was foul. Both of you were desperately trying to taste one another, the sounds coming from you two being enough to kill a nun. In the process of it all, he had pulled your hips closer to his, your sundress riding up as he did so. The thin fabric of your panties and his entire flight suit separated you from his bulge, but you could still definitely feel it. Before you could even begin grinding your hips the way you wanted to, he detached his lips from yours and chuckled softly, glancing down at the beautiful sight underneath him.

“All you want is for me to fuck you stupid and leave you a pathetic, needy little mess. Used like the fucking toy you are.” He seethed through his teeth in a way that sent you in a whirlwind, causing your back to arch for the man.

With the sound of rising chatter in the hallways outside of the office, both of you were brought out of your lust-driven haze, resulting in the most sexual tension you had ever been in. He let a chuckle escape his lips at the sight of you as he took a deep breath, stepping back a few times.

“I told you that you couldn’t handle it.” He teased you in a tone that made you roll your eyes, standing up from your position on the desk. You fixed your sundress and hid the way that you were smiling from him, your head turned away from him.

“Listen, a few of the guys and I are going to play volleyball after training.” He informed you with a hint of something you couldn’t quite recognize. For a second, it almost sounded like Iceman, the Iceman, was a bit nervous. “Maybe you can come with us. Hold my shirt for me, throw rocks at Maverick and Goose. You know.”

Your lips curled into the biggest smile he had ever seen, your gaze on him telling him just how long you had been waiting for him to ask you out, even if it was to do something as small as watching him play volleyball.

“Maybe, we’ll see. I’ll throw rocks at whoever’s losing.” You teased him gently, earning an amused chuckle as he opened the door. “I’ve heard that there’s just something about that Maverick. I think he has a real shot at winning.”

The dull and playful glare made your incessant teasing worthwhile, but what he said before he left was what made you giggle and squeeze your eyes shut once you were alone.

“Try telling me that again after I make a pretty, whimpering mess out of you.”

[btsarmymoonmoon]

Brown beanie

One shot written for my friend Grace, please note that this is made up of pure fiction and none of the events are real. 4k word count, no warnings, absolute fluff of how you meet Joon in a gallery.

It’s been a really tough week. The weather was really bad, if it didn’t rain then it was still really miserable outside. Work has been insane, you just had a really big fight with one of your best friends and everything seemed to be going downhill this week. So on a Friday night you have made the plan for Saturday to go on a small retreat, one on one with yourself. Just you, your favourite book and a local coffee shop. Very cliché but it was the only way for you to disconnect. It has been ages since the last time you have done it and this time you decided to enhance the experience and leave your phone behind. You have been glued to some kind of screen for the past few days. You didn’t want to be bothered, there wasn’t anything you had planned with anyone, so surely nobody would mind for you to leave it behind. Besides, you’re an adult and you can do whatever you please.

You made yourself tea in your favourite mug, which was slightly chipped and the handle was slowly falling apart but it was the definition of home for you and almost like a tradition. Night time tea in this particular mug. Every night. You grabbed your laptop and you slid under the covers with your really hot tea which you almost spilled on yourself and your sage green sheets. ‘Shhhhh, I never learn’ you moaned to yourself when you saw few drops of tea on your lap. You wiped it with a tissue and put the mug down on the bedside table. Back to your laptop, you went through the map of nearby cafes and restaurants but nothing has really sparked your interest. You kept going further and further outside of the town and finally, there it was. A café and an art gallery in one. I must have been newly opened, because you haven’t seen it before and you used to spend quite some time in this area of the town. You wrote the address on a tiny piece of paper and you put it to the side. Closed the laptop and finished your tea.

The morning seemed a little bit better than the entire week before. It wasn’t fully sunny but it wasn’t raining and the clouds had some holes in them so you could see the potential of a somewhat nice day. You opened your very tired and old tote bag and you put a folded umbrella just in case. You have learned your lesson too many times before. Since you decided the day before to leave your phone behind, you were leaving your smart watch as well and settling on a very basic watch with a brown leather strap. Simple outfit, light make up. You weren’t planning on spending too much time on how you look, you were going on a detox and relaxing date with yourself.

Bag on your shoulder, sunglasses on top of your head just in case the sun decided to come out. You headed out.

The town was busy, it seemed busy and loud. But maybe it was only the impression since it was first time in weeks that you haven’t had your headphones in and you weren’t staring at your phone. Everything seemed more intense than usual. You shook your head and walked on down the road to finally approach a bus stop. You checked the schedule and looked at your watch, 5 minutes to wait for the next one. Pretty lucky, as there isn’t usually a lot of those leaving around this time of the day. ‘Half ten’ you thought to yourself. By the time you get to the place it should be around 11. You were hoping there won’t be too many people around for lunch, and that you will be able to get a nice comfy spot for yourself right before the madness of a lunch time will approach. The bus arrived and you hopped on, swiftly finding a spot at the back. You grabbed the book you had in your bag and decided to use the time to start reading. ‘Pachinko’ Min Jin Lee on the cover. You’ve heard it’s a really good book and a lot of people recommended it to you, you just didn’t have the time to actually sit down and read it. You bought it ages ago and it was just sat on the table in your kitchen, waiting for exactly today.

After a good few minutes of the journey, the bus stopped for another stop. You intuitively looked up from your book and saw a tall man with a brown beaning and sunglasses on top of it discussing something with the driver. He looked really confused but after a few seconds he nodded, smiled politely and got onto the bus. You returned to your read not thinking much of it. Few more stops and it was finally your turn to get off. You got up, still holding dear to the book that has been slowly consuming you as you were getting through the pages. You walked towards the door and because you weren’t paying any attention to your surroundings you bumped into the person that was getting off before you. You looked up.

‘I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to, my bad’ you quickly recited your apology and hoped the person in front of you won’t make a lot of fuss.

‘No worries’ said the man in front. ‘Strange accent’ you thought to yourself and then you looked up and saw the brown beanie and sunglasses on top; then you looked at his face and you saw a really pretty smile, his eyes in half moons and dimples painted really close to his smiling lips. You smiled back, a little bit surprised and startled. You smiled back and moved ahead of him to leave the bus. You shook your head few times, almost like trying to erase his face from in front  of your eyes. You walked few steps away from the bus stop and opened your tote to look for the piece of paper you wrote the address on the day before. Completely analogue style, without a phone or google maps how to get to place you checked out before. Finally, after a long struggle with your bag you manage to find the tiny piece of paper with scribbled address. You looked around and you saw the building which looked very similar to what you have seen the day before on the pictures.

‘Perfect’ you whispered to yourself and walked a very steady walk towards the door. The breeze of the air felt really nice on your skin, the sun decided to come out at least for few minutes and the warmth of it made you feel a little bit relaxed as you headed to the door. You got really sucked into the book and you haven’t had your coffee yet so this was the perfect morning for you. Far away from anyone you might know and bump into, all alone, no phone. Perfection.

You walked inside, really cosy feeling has gone over you. Familiar smell of coffee, really old wooden floors and high ceilings. Only few tables and chairs, none of them taken and a very happy to see you lady behind the till.

‘Hey, welcome in! What can I get for you?’ she started right away with a big smile on her face. ‘I wish I was as perky as her’ you thought to yourself and it made you realise how burnt out from work and everything in your life you were. The way she was - was normal, the way you felt was normal but also wasn’t. It needed healing and fresh start and a break from everything. You kept staring at the menu for a few more minutes just to take in the feeling that the entire place was giving you, even though you knew from the start what are you going to order.

‘Flat white please. It’s my first time here, how do I get to the gallery? Is it open?’ you returned to the lady with a slight smile on your face and excitement building inside you. That’s how you felt about a lot of things before you started working. Art, books, good coffee, long walks. Life used to feel light and free and now it feels really heavy.

‘It’s open, if you are the customer of the café it’s free of charge. It’s not a very big deal up there though, we only have few pieces at the moment. Please take a seat and I will get your drink ready’ she seemed so warm, so welcoming. This is exactly what you were looking for. You looked around the place to find the right spot for you and your Pachinko. You gazed around few more times and you decided to settle on a table in the corner with two chairs. Not in the way of anyone, just on the side and also close to enough to the till to get a refill. Because that was a guarantee. You will have more than one coffee here. It felt so right. Empty but warm and homey. Empty but full. You opened your book and started reading right away. The lovely lady brought you your order, which you nodded and smiled at her for without making a sound, you were so invested in your read.

Just like you predicted, the closer it gotten to lunch time the more people started turning up. Most of them only to order a coffee to go, few of them went straight to the gallery part and only one person actually sat down. A really old lady with her dog, which kept trying to jump on her seat.

You finished your second cup of coffee and you were about half way through your book. That was enough for now, besides you kept looking up to the stairs where all the people were going to see the art pieces in the gallery. And you were really interested into seeing what does it look like upstairs. You closed your book, holding it in your hand you carefully got upstairs. The lady at the till definitely downplayed the way this part of looked like because the room in front of you was a really long space, looking like three rooms merged into one. White walls, wooden floors and beautiful light fixtures coming down from the ceiling. There was at least 10 pieces hung on the walls and few benches in the middle, to sit and admire. Very cosy set up but very beautiful and breath taking even with it being on the smaller size. The art was big, the rooms didn’t have to be.

You have started on your left and carefully studied each piece, top to bottom, left to right. You felt yourself recharging and feeling like yourself again only after few minutes around all of these beautiful paintings. You finished the entire left side and you were about to start on the right side, you turned around in one go and walked before you looked. You felt your nose being squished across a soft fabric, a fresh scent of shower gel and really nice fabric softener surrounded you, when you realised you bumped into someone. Again!

‘I’m really sor…’ you started when you looked up from your feet and there he was. The man from the bus, brown beanie and sunglasses on top. You blushed, because he was staring directly into your eyes. You bumped into him twice. Two times. Two times in two different places. For a second you kept staring back at him, your cheeks turning slightly red and you felt this tiny pop of electricity traveling from his eyes to yours. Or from your eyes to his. He recognised you and he smiled again. He smiled the same way he did on the bus. You couldn’t forget his dimples, his eyes in half moons still and this time he smiled with his teeth. And his full smile was even more breath taking than the one you received before.

‘No worries’ he repeated himself ‘I think you must be really clumsy or..’ he added this time and giggled a little. You were a little bit too stunned to speak. He was gorgeous and he was tall and you could see his dark hair poking out from his beanie. His beautiful brown eyes looking straight at you.

‘Or?’ you responded too playfully. You didn’t even plan on saying anything back, but for some reason this was the only thing that came out of you automatically.

‘Or we were really meant to have a conversation today’ he blinked, almost like refreshing the connection between your and his eyes. You gasped. You immediately looked away and squeezed the book in your arms, pulling it closer to your chest. ‘Pachinko?’ he looked down on the front page of the book you were holding. You nodded. ’Great book. Good choice. This please is also great, you seem to have good taste’ he noticed. Good tase? What does that even mean. Does this mean he like those things? He like the book and the gallery you both were standing in?

‘Thanks, I just started it today actually..’ you became a little bit braver. You were trying really hard to not play the shy character for once in your life.

'I'm usually the clumsy one, so it's really refreshing to see someone else having similar issues to mine' he giggled under his breather and he slightly bowed his head and moved on to looking back at the pieces. You were a little bit surprised and taken back. How rude of him to move on, you were just in a middle of a conversation. You moved on to the painting next to the one he was just looking at. You saw him pull his phone out and taking a picture of it. Now you really regretted not taking your phone with you. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a picture of him and that painting. Two art works next to each other. And as you thought of it, he started back at you from his side of the gallery. Smug face and the stare drilling down into your eyes. The small electric feeling went through you again and you got butterflies in your stomach. ‘What the hell is going on?’ you thought to yourself and you smiled at him lightly and went back to admiring the art. You started ignoring him and fully taking in what was in front of you. He sat down on the bench and was admiring you. Well you thought that was the case, but he might have been admiring the piece you were currently looking at. It was difficult to tell because you really didn’t want to turn around. And then you heard the phone taking another picture. You turned around and you saw him smiling at his phone, the phone aimed at you and the painting.

‘You look great, let me send it over to you’ he gasped at your confused face.

‘I-…’ you looked down on your feet. The damn phone. Of course. ‘I didn’t take it from home. I’m having a field day with my book and decided to have no phone day’ you proudly admitted to him, nodding your head afterwards almost like your confirming that it was a good idea (it wasn’t). You turned around and walked towards him and you saw his expression change. He clenched his jaw and looked away. You saw him slightly blushing but you decided to not mention it.

‘Let me see though’ you said and peeked through his arm. It was a really nice picture of you in front of a painting. Really admiring it. The colours were in similar tones and it made it look like a small art piece itself. ‘How about I give you my email and you can send it there?’ you proposed because you really liked the picture. There was no intent behind your proposal. You had no idea who he was, he didn’t know who you were either.

‘Sure thing’ he was a bit taken a back but wrote down your email address and promised to send the picture to you.

‘Thanks a lot!’ you answered and got up from the bench and continued walking towards the next paintings that were further down the room. You continued to admire the other pieces and he kept kind of lingering behind you, also taking his time and taking pictures of some other pieces handing on the other side of the gallery. It felt so comforting with him in the same room, at the same time really peaceful.

You were looking at few of the emails from work that came through you personal email. Then you saw an email from kim.namjoon@ and you turned your head. You have no idea who that is so you automatically thought it was spam. You did open the email and expected ‘Dear customer, you won 1million gbp’ but instead you saw yourself in front of the huge painting in the gallery few days ago. It was him. You completely forgot that you asked him to send it to you. Well he asked you but you didn’t have your phone with you. You scrolled down the picture and below there was a line underneath: Coffee tomorrow at 6, same place? – Joon

Did this really hot guy from the gallery the other day is asking you out? And his name is Joon? You blinked twice. He was different and you really wanted to say yes right away but you hesitated. And then you closed your eyes and remember the energy between the two of you and the staring competition that ended in chemistry growing between you two like crazy.

‘See you there’ you responded to his email.

He was walking back and forth in front of the café, looking around nervously. He was really nervous, he had no idea whether you are going to show up or not. But there you were, walking down the road and smiling at him from a far. His heart sunk when he saw you and then a feeling of relief came right after. You approached him and said ‘hey stranger’, you teased but he still seemed really stiff and nervous. ‘Are you okay?’ you asked without waiting for his answer. He looked really pale on his face.

‘Yeah, fine. Lets get inside please’ he slightly smiled and opened the door for you. You walked inside and almost like it was a habit went towards the corner table that you took few days before. You sat down and he sat down in front of you. ‘So now you know’ he started. You shook your head and your eyes turned into question marks. Know what? What is going on.

‘Know what sorry?’ you asked him, trying to find answer in his eyes but he wasn’t really looking at you. He was avoiding eye contact as much as he could.

‘You don’t know?’ he looked up and met your face. He smiled, his expression completely changed but you were now freaked out. You had no idea what he was referring to and he seemed so cryptic and nervous.

‘I thought you googled my name. I didn't mean to send the email from my personal address, i just hit sent and...’ he sighted loud and grabbed the sunglasses from his brown beanie. He was wearing the same hat but the shirt was different.

‘I have not, but whatever it is..’ you started but he gave you his phone.

‘Might as well get it out of the way’ he muttered and he looked away from you. You took his phone in your hands and looked through the search results. A K-pop global 21st century star RM of BTS (also knowns as Kim Nam Joon). You looked up. You looked at him and then and the pictures that were linked to the search. Right. He is a someone famous. He is really famous and you are sitting in front of him. ‘Do not panic. Do not get star stuck. He is just a guy’ you told yourself in your head and you politely gave him his phone back, trying so hard for your hands to not shake. ‘Can we please keep this quiet?’ he whispered looking really worried.

‘Of course’ you nodded and smiled politely. He was still really nervous. And it didn’t seem to change even after you confirmed that you won’t start making fuss about him. Did he then not ask you out? Was it just to check if I found out who he was? ‘Was this why you wanted to see me?’ you gulped a little bit too loud than anticipated.

‘I wanted to see you again, like I said it seemed right that we met last time didn’t it?’ he added still nervous and put his phone away to his pocket. You were stunned again. This man really seemed to believe in fate. He got up from his chair ‘What do you drink?’ he smiled as he continued walking towards the till.

‘Flat white please’ you answered. You weren’t sure what was going on but his presence thug at something inside you. You felt this warmth and sincerity from him, incredible peace that was beaming from him even though he seemed tense.

‘Two flat whites to go please’ he ordered and came back to sit at the table ‘I hope you don’t mind a walk?’ you smiled and nodded again. It’s almost like you couldn’t really say anything. He was really famous and he actually did ask you out? He wasn’t cocky, he wasn’t harsh. He was so soft and warm.

You both picked up the coffee cups and left the place. And just like that you kept wandering around the streets drinking coffee and discussing all the paintings you have seen the other day. And then you started talking about Pachinko and you realised he did know the book really well and he was really fond of it. And he felts so soft and warm and familiar. And every time he looked at you, the familiar electric pop happened and the both of you would get shy and one of you would look away. Until it became so comfortable that you just kept staring without words, continuing the aniticpation and chemistry flying between the two of you. And you ended up sitting under the tree in a park, he almost obsessively took pictures of clouds and the sky and you kept teasing him about it. But then the you finished your coffees and you kept staring at the part whilst sitting at the tree. And when you both finished telling the story one of you would just stare and the other would join and it would be a silent staring concert, just not the silly and funny one. But really warm and soft one. And eventually he couldn’t really wait nor he wanted to and he leaned forward. And you got a little bit startled at first but you closed your eyes and you could feel soft tip of his nose right next to yours, and his breath smelling like the coffee you just had right around you. Just then the world could not exist because this gorgeous man was about to kiss you. And he did. He pulled you closer and his lips touched yours and you opened your eyes for just a second and so did he. And when your eyes met you knew there is no need for being nervous anymore because it felt just right. His soft lips on yours, him pulling you closer, his beanie slightly sliding from his head as you grabbed his cheek and you both got lost in the kiss and in each others embrace.

'Joon..' you whispered when you finally managed to come up for air.

'Yes?' he asked and his voice was so soft, so domestic and he just sounded like he was ready to give you his entire world.

But you didn't say anything else and leaned back to kiss him again.

You have kissed the global popstar, a very famous person. A really handsome man who took a picture of you in the gallery few days ago. The man who felt like home, safety and warmth from the very first minute you were around him. And just like that Kim Namjoon has healed your burnt out and all of your problems went away, because he was kissing you under a tree after you had a coffee date that lasted hours.

[running-tweezers]

After a lot of encouraging from my bestie @phantasmechanical, and some interest from a few folks here, I’ve decided to post the first part of an AU fic I’m writing (and have been hyperfixated on) with my favorite ocs. There are currently 6 parts written, over 13k words, and I’m still working on it. If you enjoy, I live and breathe off comments and reblogs and asks and such. And I’ll continue posting more here on occasion. SO, without further ado.

~ Pictures Of You - Part 1 ~

The year is 1989. Nate, with his sunshiney smile, his love of plants, and his mostly “normal” tastes, has fallen head over heels. There’s only one issue. He’s fallen for a gorgeous goth named Zephyr he only sees on public access TV once a week.

Rated: T

2255 words

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~ April 28, 1989 ~

Nate’s eyelids drooped a bit as the clock made its way closer to 1 AM. He would regret this in the morning. He always did. But it was worth it.

This Thursday night routine was all a secret for a while, until his sister started calling him out for nearly nodding off during their Friday lunch catch up sessions. He couldn’t hide it from her, he had to fess up. She had just laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, that figures,” she’d said. “You’ve always had a thing for the freaks.” She scolded him gently for not getting enough sleep and that was that, aside from the odd comment occasionally about his “hot TV goth.”

Nate poured a cup of the coffee he brewed just for this, hoping the caffeine would pull him through the next half hour without making him jittery all night. It was either that, or risk falling asleep on his uncomfortable couch again. Then he’d really regret it.

He settled in and flicked on the TV, switching it to the public access station before the screen could even fully light up. What played before varied from week to week. Sometimes it was this phony TV psychic, sometimes reruns of some televangelist, sometimes just infomercials selling Ginsu knives and love song compilations. He figured they couldn’t find someone willing to stick to such a late time slot. This week it was some New Wave guy with questionable talent and even more questionable haircut, banging on a Cassio keyboard and singing off key. He hit the mute button and sipped from his mug, waiting for the last few minutes to pass.

Soon the irritating Duran Duran wannabe cut out, and the screen filled with familiar color bars. He unmuted, just in time to hear the last bit of ringing dead air cut suddenly to the sound of guitars and deep droning vocals.

And there they were.

Behind a dimly lit desk in a brick walled basement, with thick black eye makeup and wild, ratted up hair, sat the whole reason Nate was still awake at this time every Thursday night.

“Welcome, night owls and creatures of the darkness.” The figure on the screen spoke to the camera, in a cold, deadpan voice, never letting their face show anything more than a wry smirk. “My name’s Zephyr and you’ve stumbled into my world for the next half hour. Aren’t you lucky.”

A phone number hung at the bottom of the screen as they continued their introduction. “If you have something worthwhile to say, call in. If not, don’t bother.”

They launched immediately into a long and rambling explanation of the song playing in the background that kicked off the show. Nate recognized the name of the band, ‘Sisters of Mercy,” from their music recommendations in the past. He barely knew anything about the goth scene they talked about. What he did know, however, was that they were gorgeous. There was something so entrancing about them. Something dark and mysterious that he couldn’t look away from.

Maybe Mick was right. Maybe he was just into freaks.

“Speaking of music, I got my hands on the single The Cure put out last week, the one from the new album coming out soon. I’m gonna get the album as soon as it hits the shelves, but whatever, I couldn’t resist.” Their face remained apathetic, but there was an undeniable light behind their eyes. It was obvious they were excited behind the thin mask of indifference. It was endlessly endearing.

“Fascination Street is the single, and it’s incredible, even the B-side is great—“ They paused looking down at their switchboard. “Looks like there’s someone on the line,” they muttered, fiddling with the buttons on the desk in front of them. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, me and my friend have a question,” the distorted phone voice slurred with the distinct cadence of a drunk college kid, with said friend laughing in the background. “Are you a guy or a girl?”

Zephyr breathed a weary sigh, and leaned back in their chair. “Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna fuck you either way.”

“Who the hell said I wanted to fuck you, you ugly fucking frea-“

“Bite me,” they flatly interrupted, disconnecting the line. “Anyway, Facination Street…”

Calls like that were too common. More people called in to be rude than to actually talk. It just seemed to come with the territory, but they handled them pretty well. It took a person with a ton of courage to come on TV and deal with people like that, just so they could talk about things they loved. That only made them that much more intriguing.

“I got the cassette version, the 12-inch vinyl has an extended intro, plus an extra B-side. I heard that extended intro for the first time at the club the other night. I swear it was a fucking spiritual experience. Being on the floor at The Underground, listening to The Cure, with all those other people? That's church to me. That’s my religion.” He continued with that same intensity, as if nothing happened. That was their favorite band, they talked about them all the time. He’d never listened to any of their music, but every time he saw one of their albums on the shelf at the store, his mind lit up with recognition.

He daydreamed occasionally of bumping into them at Sam Goody, just by pure coincidence. Striking up a conversation. Asking them about what music they’d recommend. Hearing their passionate rambling in person. It was dumb. They probably went to much cooler, underground record stores than some mall chain. But it was nice to think about.

“We have another caller.” Once again they paused their stream of consciousness and pressed buttons on the switchboard. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“The Cure sucks shit.” The voice on the other side of the phone managed to sound even more bored and detached, almost like it was a competition. “They’re nothing but mainstream garbage now.”

“Have you heard the new single?”

“No, but their whole last album was poppy bullshit.”

“It had a little bit of a pop sound, yeah, but the meat of what makes them good was still there,” they argued. “You’re acting like they became fuckin, Tiffany and started doing mall shows or something.”

“They might as well be.”

“I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“Well I think you’re a poser.”

They noticeably bristled at the accusation. “I’m already halfway through my slot, I don’t have time for this shit.” They disconnected the call, looking a bit more shaken than usual.

Why did people call in just to be assholes? Maybe the anonymity combined with an audience was too sweet a deal to people like that. Nate genuinely couldn’t understand that way of thinking. Where was the joy in being mean to a stranger?

He glanced at the phone sitting on the end table by the couch. Calling in had crossed his mind before. He had even had the number dialed, ready to press the call button a few times, but he always chickened out in the end. What would he even say? He didn’t know anything about any of this. So he remained a silent observer, content to just watch this beautiful goth waxing poetic about the things they cared about.

They didn’t have to wait much longer for another call. They answered with a touch of exasperation. “Hello, you’re on the air.”

“Yeah, remember me, bitch?”

Without wasting a second, what was obviously the drunk caller from earlier, dove in with some of the most brutal nastiness Nate had ever heard anyone spew, much less a caller on their show. The onslaught of insults and hate speech seemed to be unending, attacking every aspect that he could think of. Nothing was off limits to this guy. It turned Nate’s stomach to be reminded so vividly how awful some people could be.

Zephyr didn’t look like they were faring well either. They scrambled to disconnect the call, blurting out a single shaky “fuck you,” before silencing him. They let out a heavy breath, their silence only accentuated by their faint music still playing in the background.

Something broke. The nonchalant, confident Zephyr he’d come to know through the screen was completely gone for a few brief seconds. Like they’d never been there.

They cleared their throat and sat back up straight in their chair, trying to regain composure. “Sorry about that,” they said, as solidly as they could muster. “Maybe we should just move on to something else…”

Nate made up his mind in an instant.

He grabbed the phone next to him and carefully dialed the on screen number, not hesitating to press the call button this time.

He twisted the cord around his finger as he waited to connect. The shift in Zephyr’s demeanor on screen let him know he’d gotten through. They looked defeated, like they were debating even picking this one up. He prayed that they did.

He saw the press of the button and heard the click from the phone a split second later.

“Hello?” They had dropped their regular script, too exhausted and annoyed to even finish it.

“Hi!” The first word out of their mouth was entirely too much energy, but once he heard that call connect, he was acting on pure instinct.

They relaxed, if only a little, obviously relieved to hear any voice other than the previous caller. “Hi?” they repeated, puzzled.

It hit him all at once, and he could only sit in silence for a split second. He was actually talking to them. Live on the air. He acted on such impulse, the only thought in his head was to block that asshole from calling back. He hadn’t thought past this moment.

“I uh… I didn’t really think through what I was gonna say.” Nate laughed nervously as he floundered for the right words. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I really like your show? I’ve been watching every week for the last couple of months. I don’t know much about all this, but I like hearing you talk about it.”

Zephyr looked skeptical. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No! No, I mean it!” Nate summoned every ounce of sincerity he could, to try and make Zephyr believe him. “You’re obviously really passionate about it, and I like watching you because of that.”

Yes. Because of their passion for their interests. No other reason. Especially not because he found them unbelievably sexy.

“Oh.” Zephyr’s drawn on eyebrows raised in surprise. “Well, uh. Thanks, I guess.” They struggled to accept the compliment and still maintain that mysterious facade. Nate thought for a second he caught the beginnings of a smile, but it may have been a trick of the cameras.

“You’re welcome.” He glanced at the clock. Just over 10 minutes of airtime left. If that guy wanted to call in again, he would have plenty of time to do it. He had to stay on the line and get them talking about something else.

“So, I do have a question,” he began, thinking back to his stupid record store daydream. “If I just walk into any regular mall record store, what would you recommend looking for if I want to ease my way into listening to stuff like this? Or do I need to look somewhere else for the good stuff?”

“Oh, that’s a good question, actually.” Their eyes lit up again, and they were off. “You can find good stuff there, it’s just gonna be the more mainstream artists. But there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m always gonna recommend The Cure, obviously. And no matter what that prick earlier said, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with their last album, and I feel like it’s pretty accessible. A good gateway, I think.”

He stayed on the phone, asking questions, and they were more than happy to answer them all. The next 10 minutes flew by, and soon he had a list of artists and albums scribbled on the back of an envelope.

Eventually, Zephyr cut themself off from the tangent they had been going on. “Oh shit, I’m almost out of time.”

“That’s ok, thanks for all the suggestions!” He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice, and it threatened to draw a smile out of the stone faced goth on the TV.

“Of course.” They answered, having turned that creeping smile quickly into a smug smirk, to maintain the illusion. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He hung up the phone and watched as Zephyr went through their regular show wrap up. Only now did he realize how hot his face was. He made his dumb little fantasy come true, if not in the exact way he’d imagined it. And they came out of the horrible first half of their show unscathed. That’s all he could ask for.

“I suppose that about does it then,” they said, fully back in the swing of things. “Thanks for spending some time with me tonight. And remember, there’s beauty in the darkness, if you’re willing to let it in. Goodnight, and I’ll see you next week.”

The screen went black yet again, and Nate switched off the TV. He had to try to sleep. But between the coffee and what just happened, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get there.

At least he’d have a hell of a story to tell his sister tomorrow.

[bug-fics]

California cool ☆ pt. 1

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 2

Summary: Eddie isn't cool, especially not in Hawkins. But maybe a pretty girl from California can help change that. 

Warnings: reader is like billy but not? drugs, cussing, alludes to reader sleeping around in cali. Basically hot girl behavior. Reader is definity set up to be a mess of a character 

Word Count: 3.7K (barely edited)

Eddie Munson wasn’t cool in any sense of the word. He was clumsy, loud, hell he looked like he walked right out of the cover of a rolling stones magazine, not to mention he was a super SUPER senior. He had a maximum of 10 friends on a good day, four of which were younger than fifteen which made it even more embarrassing. He lived in a trailer, made his money by selling weed at shitty parties, and drove a rusty van that shouldn't even run at this point.

So no, Eddie Munson was not cool, not in Hawkins at least, but he made due and did what every person would do in his situation. He embraced being a freak. He stood on tables, gave dumb speeches about conformity, picked fights with Jason Carver and his cronies, hosted dnd sessions every Friday, and tried to keep his head up. The word freak held no power anymore, not to him and certainly not to the people he called his friends. He was content with his life as a loser, he didn't feel the need to be cool, and he didn't want to waste his time on wishful dreaming. He was just Eddie, a Hawkins loser.

Well, that was the case, until a new face showed up at Hawkins high on a not-so-normal Friday. A bright cherry red 85’ convertible blasting Ozzy with a California license plate slammed into the parking space that was supposed to be reserved for the principal. A head of wild hair, messy from the drive over, swung open the door, nearly hitting a passing student who wasn't walking fast enough in your opinion. Barely 5 minutes in this hellhole and you could already feel hundreds of eyes trying to analyze your every move.

Ever since Billy Hargrove ran off, there hasn't been anything interesting to talk about in the small high school of Hawkins, so a new person appearing out of nowhere spread like wildfire. The fact that you had a pretty face made the gossip even more exciting. So when you wandered through the doors of the high school like you owned the place, big sunglasses resting on your nose, the latest and hottest California trends adorned your body, it was clear Hawkins had a new ruler.

Eddie thought you looked like a movie star as silly as that may seem, Farrah Fawcett had nothing on your beauty. You were the opposite of Eddie, cool in every sense of the word. You had confidence, a cool car, cool clothes, cool cool cool. It was the only word that could be used to describe the type of person you were, and no one could deny it.

Eddie couldn't help but stare when you strut past, Tommy and Carol hot on your trail trying to get your attention, he was intrigued to say the least, but that was a crowd he wouldn't find himself even dreaming of joining. The brainless popular kids can’t exist without someone bossing them around, telling them how to act, what to wear, what to do, and a fresh face from sunny California was the perfect person to take over. You walked with power and a purpose, heeled boots not seeming to slow you down as you disappeared down the hall and out of Eddie’s sight.

He was lucky enough to be able to catch another glimpse of you in English, Ms. O'Donnell droning on about Shakespeare as you made snide comments to the jock in the seat next to you. Your personality was like fire, hot and dangerous, you drew people in, and even the teachers didn't seem to mind your attitude, being cool had its perks, and Eddie knew this. He didn't know, however, how much he yearned to be in your circle.

The next time Eddie was able to lay his eyes on you was at lunch, you sat on top of the popular table, feet resting on the bench below, as a swarm of jocks and cheerleaders sat around you. A cigarette sat in between your slender fingers, Eddie made a mental note of how pretty your hands were.

The best part of this picture though was the bored expression that cascaded across your face. You didn't look like you belonged there, none of the people at that table were able to match your energy, the clothes weren't cool enough, the hair wasn't stylish enough, you were like a star in a town full of rocks and dirt.

“I'm having a party this weekend, I'm sure you'd get the full Hawkins experience if you showed up. There’s gonna be free booze... and I mean if you wanted to be my date then that would be fucking fantastic,” one of the many bodies around you droned on about how everyone who is anyone would be there in hopes to catch your attention.

Every word spoken by the hive went in one ear and out the other, these people if you could even call them that, weren't cool. Sure, living in the small town of Hawkins (that's behind on the trends by 50 years) might give them some superiority, but they definitely weren't California cool.

You don't know why you expected to find at least one person to match your energy, it's not like the two cities were similar at all, but you continued to scan the loud canteen in hopes to find someone, anyone who was actually worth your time. 

You needed someone interesting, someone loud, someone funny. Someone to make this shit show of a town even slightly entertaining. California was busy, it was fun, always something to do. Hawkins was stupid, boring, and made everyone living in it feel like they were rotting away.

“What’s his deal?” you question, holding a hand up to silence the group before pointing at a dude with unruly curls and a sick denim vest who was currently spewing some sort of theatrics to the little group of people who gave him their undivided attention. He was loud, obnoxious even. His movement was quick, his hands telling a story alone, and the way he spoke was hypnotizing. Now he, he was California cool.

“Who, the freak? Don’t bother with Munson, I heard he sacrifices virgins in the woods behind the school with his little cult. He’s an absolute loser, you're way too hot to even let him breathe the same air as you, let alone have a conversation with-” Before Carol can continue with her rant about Eddie “The Freak” Munson, you grip the front of her shirt loosely and pull her in before exhaling the smoke from the cigarette you've been nursing. “okay, You idiots want some real Cali advice? Here’s the deal, in California you’d be a bunch of fucking losers,” you stop to take another drag, flicking the ash in Eddie’s direction, “He, however, is like the definition of a California sex god. I think Hawkins needs to get out of the 60s or something because all I hear leaving your mouth is a bunch of boring bullshit. Maybe if you were more like him I’d give some of you the time of day.”

Dropping the cigarette onto the floor before hopping off the table, you strolled over to the now, very noisy, Hellfire table. Still unnoticed, you shove onto the end of the bench, pushing the kid who was currently sitting there harshly to their right before turning to the dungeon master, who's words had just abruptly stopped at your presence.

Now being able to analyze him up close, his big brown eyes are what caught your attention first. His pupils looked blown out, clearly shocked that your sitting at the hellfire table, let alone looking at him of all people. The magazine he was previously reading out of, clearly made to derogate some fantasy game, was tightly gripped between his hands. If he held it any tighter between his ring-clad fingers the paper would tear under his strength. He was the definition of pretty, and definitely worth your time.

“So, I heard from a little birdy, an annoying one might I add, that you sacrifice virgins in the woods. I'm dying to know what you can do to someone with… experience.” The words that left your plump lips sent Eddie into a sputtering frenzy. How could he even respond to something like that, he was as inexperienced as they came, this had to be some sort of sick prank that carver had put you up to.

He quickly glanced over to the table you were previously sat at, and noticed the glares that many of the students were sending his way. Eddie’s mind was moving at 100 miles per hour before he was interrupted by a fit of laughter. “I'm kidding, well kind of. I came over to ask if you wanted to hang out after school. I need someone cool to show me the ropes of this dogshit town, and who better than someone who, as I told Perkins, could be considered a California sex god.”

Eddie could barely squeak out a simple yes before you were reciting your number to him and then walking away. Without a pen in hand, he tried his hardest to keep the seven digits in his brain while screaming at his friends to find him something to write with, the whole table scrambling into action. This was the first time a girl has ever positively acknowledged someone from hellfire, let alone asked them to hang out after school, alone.

Eddie could help but call you as soon as he got home that night, partially to test to see if he was able to jot down the right number, but mostly just to hear your voice again. And when you picked up, a sultry hello sounded out of the receiver, Eddie felt his soul leave his body. “Hi, hi, hello yeah uh... It's um Eddie- uh Munson. Eddie Munson… f-from school. The kid with the hair,” shit, smooth Munson, fucking smooth.

Waiting for a response, Eddie chewed on a strand of curls, the need to keep his mouth occupied before he continued to fuck up his one chance of being near you. When you didn't give an immediate reply, he thought of bringing up the fact that you called him cool, but held his tongue when you began to laugh. He thought your laugh sounded better than any music he's ever listened to before, and though (regardless of the current embarrassment he was feeling) it wasn’t a harsh laugh, he could tell you weren't laughing at him; more so laughing to help calm his nerves. 

“How could I forget the California cool, Eddie Munson.” you paused, and ever so slightly he could hear the unmistakable bubbling sound of a bong rip. When you exhaled Eddie felt as though he could breathe the smoke in through the receiver. He imagined what your lips looked like with smoke pouring out of them, if you were smoking a California delicacy or shitty Hawkins weed. “Wanna grab milkshakes at that one diner? The one on, I think main street. You’re more familiar with the area than I am.” 

“Oh god, that place is awful. Ever since the owner died it's gone to shit, send me your address and I can take you to my favorite place.” Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew this wasn’t a date, hell you weren't even friends really, but that didn't stop him from wanting to look nice. Granted, there was only so much he could do with what little he had. Opting to ditch his vest and change out of his hellfire shirt into his favorite band tee and throwing his hair up. The girls at the hideout rarely approached the band, but his chances were higher when his hair was out of the way. He guessed there was some sort of appeal to the very messy bun, and if hot Hawkins girls liked it, he hoped a hot Cali girl would too. Anything to get you to compliment him. He wanted to make sure you didn’t regret approaching him, you thought he was cool, and he wanted to prove you right.

However, all thoughts of appealing to your praise went out the window when he approached your house. Yeah, he noticed you resided in Loch Nora, which was already terrifying enough given that he lived in the direct opposite type of environment. Granted, Cali poor would probably be considered Hawkins rich no matter the circumstance, but this was something else. Eddie didn't belong here, and yet you wanted him here.

He wasn't sure if he should blow his horn in a neighborhood like this, afraid of getting the cops called on him for his already out-of-place vehicle, so he opted to knock on the door. Though, now the fear of your parents answering instead of you was present in his mind and he didn't know what would be worse. 

Before he had the chance to knock a second time the door was swung open. You toss something in his direction before speaking, hardy giving Eddie a second glance. “Let’s go, leave your van here we can take my car. Ever driven a convertible before? Probably not, there don't seem to be many nice cars around here.” 

You were right, he's never seen a car this nice, let alone driven one. Even Steve’s BMW couldn't compare. Sitting in the driver's side of your car felt otherworldly, he felt confident, and when the engine roared to life, the radio blasting whatever cassette you had in there from this afternoon, he felt pure bliss.

Speeding down the street Eddie hardly noticed you fiddling with the glove box before a joint was shoved in his face, your fingers grazed his lips as he allowed you to place it between his teeth. He did notice however, you crouching on the passenger seat trying to feel the harsh wind lapping against your skin. It was exhilarating watching you feel for the first time since leaving your hometown. Hawkins was a place that killed peoples happiness and held them hostage in their misery. And yet here you were, wind whipping though your hair, smoke leaving your smile as you sing along to the radio.

The drive to the diner wasn’t long, shorter than Eddie had wished, and he was reluctant to get out of the front seat, his van would never compare to the short joy he just felt from driving a car of all things. The diner was one of the more popular places in town, your typical 50’s style décor, you wouldn't be surprised if this is what Hawkins considered trendy. As any hot spot would be on a Friday night, the diner was packed, but the two were able to grab a table near the back, unexpectedly next to Carol Perkins who looked like she was on a double date with Carver and his preppy cheerleader girlfriend.  

You sent the table a stark smile and a quick wink before turning your attention back to Eddie who was waiting for the joke to be revealed. He was still partially in denial that you thought he was cool of all people. But a mean laugh never came, there were no harsh words thrown his way, and you were giving him your undivided attention, even with Tommy trying to talk to you across the walkway. 

“What's your favorite here? You know what, just order for me, Hawkins. I’m at a loss when it comes to new foods, so get whatever, it’s on me” and that's exactly what he did when the waitress came over. Instead of mauling over what a girl like you would want he ordered two “Eddie specials” as he liked to joke. Two simple chocolate milkshakes with a large plate of fries for the table. 

The conversation flowed easily between you two, he even made you laugh with one of his jokes. Eddie was exactly what you needed in this town, he reminded you a lot of your friends in Cali, and that alone made him your new favorite person. He made it easy. Eddie didn’t argue when you reached over and plucked the red cherry from his milkshake, he kept his mouth shut when you squirted more than enough ketchup all over the plate of fries, not giving him the option to opt-out of the sauce even if he wanted to.

He was able to keep up and engage with your wild stories from your life before moving, unlike the people who wanted to use your new girl status as a trophy, not to mention it was fun to make him blush. He was a breath of fresh air after the horrible day you had at school, and you definitely weren't letting that out of your grasp, so when the cups were drained and the bill was paid you offered your house for him to crash at. 

“Come on Hawkins, have some fun for once in your life yeah? You can crash at my house for the whole weekend, we can go to that dumb party tomorrow, and I can take you to school on Monday. There’s no way my moms gonna be home anyways if that's what you’re worried about,” Without even thinking about the fact that he had no clothes, or that there was no way he was wanted at the party on Saturday, or even the fact that he just met you today and it's kind of odd to spend more time than he had already spent with a stranger, Eddie agreed. He couldn't get enough of you. He didn't even think to call his uncle when he got to your place, still reveling in the fact that you wanted him here, in your room, with you. 

Your room was everything and nothing like he expected. The room was double the size of his small bedroom, if not triple. A round canopy bed sat in the middle, large enough for at least three people to sleep comfortably. Not only did you have your own bathroom, but you had your own walk-in closet that was filled to the brim with trendy clothes.

Eddie was right, you were a star, no denying it now. You didn't belong in Hawkins, and yet the universe practically shoved you into his arms, like an apology for how shitty he's had it so far. He felt stuck in the doorway, as if stepping into the room would somehow taint it of its glory. The thing that broke him out of his trance was the image of you stripping off your clothes right in front of him, standing there in nothing but your lace underwear. 

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut before covering them with his arm, trying to force out some sort of apology as if you weren't the one to strip in front of him. The only thing that stopped his rambling was your laugh. You seemed to love his misery, every awkward encounter he's had with you was always brushed off with a giggle. It made him feel slightly better surprisingly.

“Dude chill, it's not like you've never seen a chick's body. No need to freak, I knew you were here feel free to perv all you want, you can open your eyes.” It takes him a while to get the nerve to move his arms away from his face, but when he does you are no longer just in your underwear, an oversized Led Zepplin t-shirt sat on your frame, still leaving little to the imagination. You stood at your vanity, opening one of the drawers and pulling out a huge ziplock bag of bud. You weren't risking smoking anything from a shitty small town, so bringing a lifetime's worth of weed to hold you over until you could go back to Cali where you belonged seemed to be your best option. “There should be some spare clothes in the closet, just dig around I'm sure you'll find something that fits.”

Searching for something suitable for his frame was easier than he thought. In fact, you had a whole collection of men’s clothing in your closet. Eddie couldn't help but wonder if they were like trophies, notches in your belt from all of the men at your beck and call, but he also didn't want to assume something so vulgar even if it was true.

You were a lot to handle, Eddie could tell now. You were different than the small-town girls, you were the type of person who needs to be doing something fun at all times but he couldn’t think about the small chance that he couldn't keep up. He had to keep up, or there's no doubt in his mind you'd drop him for someone who could.

Maybe Steve Harrington would be able to handle your brash behavior, King Steve seemed to be the type, so why wouldn’t new Steve? If Billy Hargrove was still around there's no question that you'd give him a run for his money, but you weren't Billy and you weren't King Steve. You were nicer somehow, even if you were equally if not more wreckless, so for now, Eddie wanted to enjoy the attention you spared him in hopes to stick around. 

The rest of the night, Eddie clung to your every word. He listened when you talked about your mom’s job at Hawkins lab, He let you ramble about how annoying the residents of Hawkins were, and he gave input when you asked about all the secret spots the town had to offer. He paced you when smoking, he didn't think twice when you reached over to shotgun him for fun, he tried to avoid staring at your thighs for too long.

You even asked his opinion on your ass while you stood in front of the big mirror leaning against your wall, and Eddie is proud to say he didn't stutter when he gave a response (you had a remarkably nice ass). He liked hanging out around you, you made him actually feel cool, which is something he hasn't felt from anyone other than the freshman who treat him like a god.

This friendship was new and exciting, yeah he had his everyday friends, but this was eddies chance to change the narrative; to give them all something to look forward to rather than fear at school. And if it took everything in him to keep up with a wild girl from California then he was going to do it because you thought he was cool, you thought he was worth your time.

PART TWO

[annieintheaair]

I play those days in my head, 'round and 'round, and how it hurt so bad. Where we were, what we were doin', and how we had to move ahead... We can't go on saying it weren't wrong how it ended and we hope for change, but there's still the pain of remembering. If I knew back then what I know right now, I'd have never wasted one more day in this town.

I lied-- last week was not the craziest week ever because this week totally beat it.

Last I left off, I was heading to therapy. It was so nice to finally meet Diara in person and I'll be going back again tomorrow for one more session before vacation. She had me choose three emotions (we do this every week) from the wheel to explain how I felt over the last week. The ones I chose last week were more positive, like optimistic. I teared up a little from time to time but walked out of there feeling really good.

It was nice to stay home that night so I took the dogs for an evening walk. I've been trying to take them on daily walks as much as possible.

Thursday morning I took the dogs for another early morning walk. I made it to yoga at noon, too, and found out that unfortunately, the yoga studio will be closing down at the end of the month to merge with the Dallas studio. It was such a huge bummer to hear that.

I had an appointment with a psychiatrist later that afternoon and they literally forgot about me sitting there in the waiting room for 45min. I was pretty annoyed and even more annoyed that the doctor wanted me to come home from work in the morning and go to sleep for 7 hours. How would I ever accomplish anything? He said I'd be happier with more sleep. Is that because I'd be sleeping so how could I be sad?

I stopped at Lalaland for a strawberry fields matcha on my way home, knowing I'd need more caffeine before work. The dogs stayed with their sitter that night and I headed off to work a trip to Austin.

Friday morning, when I got back from my trip, I had to take my car to Volvo. I was hoping the loaner they gave me would be an SUV like my car but they gave me a sedan instead.

I had to stop at my sister's house on my way to my old house to pickup a key and a garage door opener that my mom forgot to leave at the house. I did a little work for my other job while I was there and then headed to the house to load up the car. I was overly optimistic thinking that I'd be able to fit a ton of stuff but the S60 sedan is small and was not super helpful.

After I loaded up the car, I drove to Brian's house and he let me drive his truck. We went to Lolo's Chicken & Waffles for lunch and then drove back to my old house to load up the truck. We tried to fit as much as possible but unfortunately, did not get everything. We were both sweating and tired so we stopped at Starbucks for some cold drinks on our way to my new house.

We unloaded the truck at my house and at this point, I'll be lucky if I finish unpacking by Christmas. I'm kidding but that's how it feels right now.

I had to pick up the dogs at their sitter and then Brian and I went to Portillo's for hotdogs to go before we headed back to his house. We had to stop by the car dealership because they needed my second set of keys and luckily, traffic was minimal.

When we got to Brian's, we ate our hot dogs and then I rushed home to get ready for work. I had really been hoping to get a nap that day but literally had no free time.

Saturday morning I went back to my old house again as soon as I was finished with work at 6:30am. I stopped for breakfast tacos and Red Bull on my way and then loaded up the car with the last of the things and cleaned out the freezer. I did some paint touch-ups and was literally crying into the paint bucket so I guess you can say my tears are now painted onto the walls.

It was a hard morning leaving there, not knowing when or if I'd ever be back at that house again. Even though I'm happy to be back in my old neighborhood, I'm also sad that life there didn't work out. I lost someone who I thought was my best friend, living there complicated a relationship that I had high hopes for, and I experienced a whole new level of loneliness.

Even though living there made me pray more, I went to church a whole lot less, while driving back to my old church every Wednesday night to serve at church. I guess life there wasn't what I had expected.

I wondered what would have happened if I never met Todd. Would I have found a way to be happy there? Would I have met someone in Fort Worth that made me want to stay? Or, if I had lived back in my old town when I met him, would our relationship have gone differently? Would it have been more balanced and more normal? My heart hurts thinking about it all.

I closed out that chapter yesterday morning when I left the house and came home and felt kind of sad. I ended up calling out from work that night and I think the crew scheduler actually thought I was sick because I really sounded sick from crying. I never got to take a nap because I just felt so overwhelmed with so many emotions. By 2pm, I decided that my nails were so ratchet so I treated myself to a well-deserved mani-pedi at my favorite spot. Since I wasn't going to work, I was able to drink two Blue Hawaiians. The man working there (I think he's the manager or something) asked me when I sat down, "Just you?" and I felt like he was looking for Todd, even though I've been there alone so many times since.

After my mani-pedi, I met Marx at Suẽno for a late lunch. We ended up just getting appetizers and their queso blanco and ceviche were both amazing.

I headed home, knowing I was tired and thinking I'd be taking a nap but I guess all of the Red Bull really kicked in because I couldn't go to sleep. I laid on the couch and then told Marx he could meet me at the pool. Jess ended up joining us with her son Tru so we hung out there until late, drinking some beers, and then went back to my house and ordered a pizza.

I think I was showered and in bed by 2am, which was later than I had planned, especially considering how tired I was, but it was fun to hang out with people and not be home alone. I guess I forgot what it was like and I really missed this life here.

I allowed myself to sleep in a bit this morning and then got ready and went to church for the 11:15am service. The talk today was about relationships, loneliness, and the importance of community. I felt like it was everything I had been feeling lately. I knew there was a reason why I had to be there today. Even though they were promoting groups that are starting at the end of the month, it was still good to listen since I already signed up for a few. I'm looking forward to doing a morning bible study and being part of the singles group. Although I already feel like I have a great community here, expanding upon that would be amazing.

After church, I ran over to the Fresh Market to grab a coffee from my Greek friend, Nassos. I got a Freddo Cappuccino, which was really good. I missed being able to go there every weekend.

I had to run a few errands so I stopped at the pharmacy and then went to the dog store. My dogs have been wearing their 4th of July bows forever now so I figured it was time to get them some new ones and Kirby needed a new collar.

Back at home, I decided I needed to tackle the garage and deal with unpacking some stuff. I made some good progress and posted on Facebook marketplace that I had boxes to give away for free and no joke, within an hour they were all gone. I have more yet to be unpacked so once those are empty, I can post them, too.

I wanted to focus on unpacking so I ordered a late lunch from my favorite Thai spot. I ate some of it and then went to a yin yoga class, which was super relaxing. My flights tonight were canceled so I am enjoying an unexpected night off, although disappointed by the lack of pay.

I've been observing my new/old neighborhood and my neighbor across the street has two dogs and is pretty good-looking. Since I'm only interested in meeting people organically (offline) these days, I'm sure I'll officially meet him at some point.

It has been a lazy evening and I'm happy to be home with my dogs and enjoy some wine. My TVs all need to be mounted so I've been not watching TV all week and I'd love it if someone could help me put these up. Matt was supposed to help me but we kind of got into a little fight yesterday because he straight-up lied to me, not even thinking about the fact that I could see his trip schedule. Matt lying to me made me think again about how it's sometimes just better to be single because it seems like guys can't be trusted anymore.

Tomorrow I'm hoping to do more unpacking after my therapy appointment and yoga at noon and then have to pack because vacation officially starts Tuesday. I'm really praying that my flights go smoothly and there are no issues. As excited as I am for vacation, part of me would rather stay home and enjoy being in my new/old town for a bit with my dogs since I also feel a little sad about the fact that Todd and I booked this trip together and now I'm going with just my mom and aunt. It's more of those feelings about expectations versus the current reality and learning to adapt to change when I don't want to.

Anyway, it's getting late, I need to shower and put my pajamas on (still in my yoga clothes) and would like to relax with my dogs before bed tonight. Even though I got a decent amount of sleep last night, I'm exhausted and ready to crawl into bed.

xoxo

Annie

[sceletaflores]

well three’s the only number we know!

pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: it's probably just the weed hitting you funny, maybe it's the lighting, or the fact that they're both practically naked. you don't know what it is but oh god maybe the girls are right, art and patrick are fucking hot.

—or: things shift between art, patrick, and you.

word count: 4.4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, oral (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), dry humping kinda, dirty talk, drug use, friends to lovers trope is NOT cringe, patrick going to college instead of going pro cause i said so, slight tashi duncan erasure...she's brought up in conversation but...you guys can still stone me for it, nat not knowing how boarding schools work, porn with WAAAAYY too much plot, no use of y/n, not beta read yell at me if there's any mistakes lmao.

author's note: once again no one asked for this but i had to start writing it as soon as the idea pierced through my frontal cortex. i promise i'll actually write the requests in my inbox i just couldn't get over this hehe it's so dialogue heavy towards the beginning but i love yapping and i need more practice characterizing them anyway lmao okay hope you love it! mwah xoxo.

Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig are your best friends. You’ve known them since you were thirteen and they each punched a guy for lifting up your skirt with his racket at practice once.

You don’t even remember becoming friends with them, after that day they were sort of just always there. Bumping your shoulders in the hallway when they walk past, taking up space in your room when you’re trying to study, cheering embarrassingly loud at your matches, picking you up from practice to drive around in Patrick’s Porsche with the top down every night.

They were, and still are six years later, a constant in your life. They’re so ingrained in your daily routine that you hardly remember your life before you met them, and can’t imagine your life without them in it. They're two six foot, largely obnoxious shadows that you can’t shake.

As the three of you got older, more and more rumors started spreading. You weren’t phased by it, you had no reason to be. Art and Patrick are fiercely loyal, stuck by your side all throughout the “So which one of you is she dating today?” taunts.

You just classified it as petty teenage gossip, thinking it’d just fizzle out once you started college. It didn’t just fizzle out, if anything it actually got worse. You constantly hear the whispers and snickers as you walk around campus, as you sit in your lectures, as you eat lunch in the dining hall. They’re always petty jabs at you, and they’re always fucking stupid.

“Why does she need both of them! Greedy much? God, what a skank…”

“You know they only keep her around cause she totally puts out…”

"I heard she schedules them like appointments. Mondays and Tuesdays with Art, Wednesdays and Thursdays with Patrick, and Fridays are for whoever's lucky..."

"Bet she's got a scoreboard at home, tallying who's ahead in the 'who loves me more' contest…"

“Doesn’t she realize they’re just using her for a good time? How pathetic…”

It really doesn't bother you that much, you even start to think it’s kind of funny. Art and Patrick do not think it’s kind of funny. They scoff and frown at each new comment you relay to them, puffing their chests out all macho man style like they were about to go off and fight everyone on campus for calling you mean names.

“No one talks about our girl like that,” Patrick would say, Art beside him solemnly nodding his head in silent agreement. It’s probably remarks like that one that get people talking in the first place.

You just smile, biting back the urge to tell them that the fierce feelings of ownership and protectiveness they have surrounding you often draws more attention than any bitchy whispers ever could. 

Even the girls on your tennis team give you a hard time, badgering you with question after question of “But they’re so hot! How have you not fucked one of them yet? Come on, you must have at least thought about it…”

It’s more lighthearted coming from them, they don’t really think you’re a tramp or a skank or whatever it is people are calling you behind your back. You roll your eyes every time, telling them to shut up and mind their own damn business.

The truth is you just don’t think about Art and Patrick like that. So what if your relationship is a little different than what other people might consider a “normal” best friend bond. Does that automatically mean you want to jump each other's bones? No. 

Like, Patrick’s just a really physical person, he loves touch. It’s not like he’s sending you “fuck me” signals when he throws an arm around your shoulder as the two of you walk around campus, or when he shoves your feet off the mattress to sit down only to move them right back onto his lap when he’s settled, or when he sits on the floor between your legs when there’s no more room on Tashi’s futon for all four of you. It’s just who he is, he had shitty parents he needs to be validated through touch sometimes.

It’s the same thing with Art’s doting, he just really cares about the people around him. He’s not expecting you to bend over for him every time he massages your sore shoulders after you go too hard during practice, or when he drops to a knee in the middle of the quad to re-tie your shoes after he notices the laces came loose, or when he practically forces you into the hoodie off his back if he even slightly suspects you’re cold. He’s just a nurturing guy, his grandma raised a goddamn gentleman.

It has nothing to do with you. Seriously nothing. They’re still your best friends, closer to you than brothers. You’ve been “their girl” since you were thirteen years old and you weren’t going to ruin it for some one-off, meaningless fuck. 

“They’re just a bunch of jealous assholes,” Patrick commented from where he was perched next to the open window of his and Art’s room, a cigarette dangling from his lips, “They don’t know shit, don't listen to them.”

It’s late, maybe a little after eleven. You snuck into their room after curfew, like you do most nights. You’re technically supposed to be studying for your lab practical in a few days, but Patrick lured you out of your room with a text of ‘WHERE R U??? COME OVER’ followed quickly by ‘WE HAVE GRASS :]’

You were looking for an excuse to stop studying anyway, so you folded easily enough. As soon as you got there you regretted it, Patrick’s texts conveniently left out the fact that their AC was broken and it was absolutely hot as balls in their room. You felt it as soon as Art opened the door to let you in, a wave of heat and humidity spilling out into the hall.

The tiny window was cracked open as far as it could go with the shitty ceiling fan running overdrive in a feeble attempt to let some cool air flow through the room, and so Patrick could smoke without setting off the alarm. 

Patrick and Art were reduced to their boxers, various articles of clothing they were probably wearing earlier strewn all around the room. You were thankful you hadn’t changed before coming over, even the thin tank and shorts you were wearing felt like too much.

“I’m not listening to them,” You repeat for the millionth time, rolling your eyes as you lean back on your hands on the carpet. “I’m just saying, it’s a little hypocritical. Like, why am I always the slut and you guys are the poor souls I’m leading on? What if you guys were the ones taking advantage of me this whole time?”

Art snorts from his spot across you on the floor, shaking his head as he meticulously rolls the second joint of the night. Patrick raises an eyebrow, taking another drag of his cigarette with a smirk. He flicks the butt out the window, walking over to you and Art. “You’re just that irresistible,” He teases, reaching out to tousle your hair affectionately as he passes, "We’re powerless against your charms.”

You laugh dryly, the sound mingling with the lazy hum of the ceiling fan. “Right, my master plan to corrupt you both with my presence is finally starting to work after six years. I should get a medal for my sluttiness.”

Art chuckles softly, lighting the joint with practiced ease before holding it out to you. "If anyone should get a medal, it’s us. Six years of being led astray by your slutty tendencies," he jokes, the words punctuated by a playful nudge against your leg. 

You scoff, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You take the joint, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke before releasing it in a slow, steady stream. The familiar sensation starts to seep into your bones, relaxing you despite the oppressive heat. “You guys are such assholes, literally zero help. I knew I should’ve just talked to Tashi, she’s the only normal person I know.”

Patrick joins you and Art on the floor, legs stretched out as he leans back on his palms like you. “Hey, don’t throw me in with him.” Patrick said in mock offense, bringing his hand up to clutch his chest dramatically and nodding his head towards Art. “I’m a saint.”

Art just laughs, shaking his head as he takes the joint from you. “If you’re a saint then I’m the fucking Pope, man.”

The room fills with laughter, the three of you falling into easy conversation as you pass the joint around. The pungent smoke mingles with the already thick air, swirling around in the fan's wind before it filters through the open window. The oppressive heat seems to melt away, replaced by a soothing warmth that always envelopes you when you're around Art and Patrick.

They get lost in their own animated conversation about some new movie coming out that you weren’t really interested in. You lean back, content to just let their voices wash over you. The joint continues to make its rounds, each puff adding to the hazy atmosphere that blurs the edges of reality just enough to make everything feel softer, more manageable.

You languidly study Art and Patrick through half-lidded eyes, watching how easily they interact, how relaxed they are in this moment. Miles and miles of toned, freshly tanned skin from all the tennis they’d been playing recently on display. The sweat making the sharp cut of their hips and collarbones glisten under the shitty light of their desk lamps. How their happy trails disappear temptingly into their boxers, Art’s light and Patrick’s dark. 

You lick your lips, the dryness from the smoke and the sight in front of you combining to make your mouth feel like a desert. The buzz in your brain is making everything seem sharper, more vivid, and you can't help but let your eyes linger a little longer on the defined lines of their bodies. 

You’ve seen them in their boxers more times than you can count, but something about this is different. The heat in the room is almost too much now, but it's doing things to you, and you're not sure if it's the temperature or something else entirely.

It’s probably just the weed hitting you funny, maybe it’s the lighting, or the fact that they’re both practically naked. You don't know what it is but oh God maybe the girls are right, Art and Patrick are fucking hot. 

The realization is like a smack to the face, making you acutely aware of every detail– the way Art’s muscles ripple as he leans to pass you the joint, the obscene spread of Patrick’s hairy thighs making his boxers ride up even higher, the subtle scent of their colognes mixing with the smoke in the air.

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time, sending a shiver down your spine as you try to play it cool, pretending not to notice the way your heart stutters when Art’s fingers brush against yours as he passes you the joint. 

You shift uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of your fluttering pulse and the wetness starting to gather between your thighs. That’s definitely the weed, you’d never get wet thinking about your very platonic closer-to-you-than-even-brothers-would-be best friends if you were sober. At least that's what you try telling yourself, not fully meeting Patrick’s eye as he takes the joint from you.

You must zone out for a bit, shaken by the kind of life-altering realization that you just might, a teensy tiny bit, want to fuck Art and Patrick. You don’t notice the way their conversation slowly trails off, how Patrick notices the sudden shift in your behavior. His eyes rake over you, lingering on the sliver of skin showing where your top doesn't quite meet your shorts. He shoots Art a knowing smirk, kicking his knee lightly. Art follows Patrick’s gaze, eyes darkening with understanding. He looks back over at Patrick, a tiny grin on his face as he gives him a single nod.

“I mean, it wouldn’t even be that big a deal if we did,” Patrick says casually, bringing the dwindling joint up to his lips, “If we fucked, I mean.” He clarified, head lolling to the side sluggishly.

You snap out of it, looking between the two of them– the mischievous glint in Patrick’s eyes as he exhales smoke lazily into the air, the slight pink tint to Art’s cheeks slowly reaching the very tip of his ears as he nervously chews his lower lip.

The weight of Patrick’s words settle over you, adding another layer of nearly suffocating warmth that has nothing to do with the broken AC. The implications of what he just said swirl in your mind, a heady mix of curiosity, arousal, and slight panic. 

You don’t know when or how it happened, but they both seem closer than they were before. The two of them crowd around you, pressing in on either side, green and blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your thighs clench together.

You turn to Art, ready for him to shut Patrick down and defend your honor from his sleazy lines like the good cop he always is, but instead, Art’s grin widens, his eyes never leaving yours. He shifts in front of you, his hand brushing against your knee sends a jolt of electricity through you. “We’re friends,” he says softly, eyes big and earnest, as if reassuring both you and himself, “and we trust each other. It’s not like it would change anything, right?”

Never content being one-upped by Art, Patrick reaches out to settle his hand on your thigh, high up enough that his pinkie makes contact with the edge of your shorts. “Everyone’s already thinking it,” he reasons, stubbing out the joint on the plate Art was using to roll, “why not give them something to really talk about?”

The air grows heavy with tension, each breath you take feeling like a Herculean effort. Art’s fingers trace light, teasing patterns on your knee, his touch both comforting and maddeningly slow. Patrick’s hand remains firm on your thigh, "Imagine," he continues, his voice low and seductive, "what it would feel like to be touched, kissed, fucked by both of us. At the same time."

Art's hand inches higher, and you shiver at the sensation, a soft gasp escaping your lips. "We could make you feel so good," Art adds, his eyes shining dark with desire. "If you want it."

You look at them, gaze trailing from Art’s sweet face to the challenge in Patrick’s eyes, daring you to break the tension or back out. Your mind races, torn between the overwhelming want coursing through you and the nagging voice of caution still present in the back of your head. But as Patrick's fingers toy with the thin material of your shorts, and Art's breath grazes your neck, the decision becomes easier.

“Maybe we should,” you hear yourself saying before you can stop, the words tumbling out, shaky but determined. Patrick's smirk widens, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he turns to Art. His gaze lingers on Art’s calm demeanor, a dare unspoken yet unmistakable. Art meets his eyes evenly, a tiny smile on his lips betrays his facade. They share a look, a sort of silent conversation shared between them before they're leaning in.

Your eyes are closed, but you can still tell it’s Art who kisses you first. Big hands coming up to gently cup your face as he leans in, you can smell the mint from gum he chews constantly. His lips are so soft, so gentle, and so hesitant; almost like he’s worried you don’t really want this. You respond eagerly, throwing your arms around his shoulders and dragging him forward. He’s on you in less than second, arms braced on either side of your hips as he really starts to kiss you. 

Art’s tongue drags over the seam of your lips, licking at your mouth like he’s eating pussy. Laving quick, dirty drags of his tongue until you part your lips on a high moan so he can slip it in to brush against your own. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as the kiss deepens, getting messy and desperate. You can feel his heartbeat pounding up against his rib cage where his chest is pressed tightly to yours, you can feel the thick length of his hard dick burning a line through his boxers onto your thigh.

You get so caught up in kissing Art you forget Patrick’s even there until he’s trailing sloppy kisses along your jawline. “Shit, guys we should make a fucking porno,” he says into your ear, breath hot and teasing, “we’d get fucking rich.” He huffs with a low chuckle, sliding his hand up your tank to palm at your tits roughly. His chuckle dissolves into a throaty groan when his greedy hands find even more bare skin, no bra.

Art gasps against your lips, hips grinding down onto your thigh at Patrick’s words. “Fuck off,” he snaps, but the strong twitch of his dick gives him away. He rests his forehead on yours, breath coming out in ragged huffs to mingle with your own. He looks fucking wrecked, shiny blue eyes glazed over with lust, lips slick and pink, long lashes fanning over his flushed cheeks. He gives you one last quick peck before his hands come up to your shoulders and gently push you backwards.

You’re confused until you feel the warm, bare skin of Patrick’s toned chest on your back. He looms over you, using his free hand to grip your chin and force your head to the side.

The angle’s a little odd, but neither of you seem to mind. Patrick kisses like he’s trying to kill you, a mess of too much tongue and rough bites to your lips and so much spit it should be disgusting. The slick noise of your tongues sliding together has your cheeks burning with how lewd it is. Normally you’d be grossed out, maybe if it was any other guy you would be. You’d shove him off of you and kick him out of bed, but it’s not some guy; it’s Patrick. You can’t help but whine into his mouth, craving more of his brutal affection, feeling the dizzying rush of passion that borders on pain.

Art’s lips are on your neck, sucking marks onto your skin, his breath hot and uneven as he murmurs something you can't quite make out. You should tell him to stop, that people will talk if they see you all marked up, but maybe you don’t give a fuck anymore. Maybe you want people to talk. His hands are everywhere, fingers digging into your hips, tugging you closer, grounding you in the whirlwind of sensations. Patrick's grip tightens on your chin, biting your lips hard enough to make you whine, and Art responds with a low moan, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

It’s so fucking dirty, so filthy, so demeaning and you’ve never been so wet before. 

You throw your head back, with a loud moan as Patrick plays with your tits under your shirt and Art lick’s a dirty stripe up your throat. “Fuck! God, Pat…” your chest heaves, back arching up into Patrick’s hands, craning your head so Art has more room to trail sweet kisses along your collar bones.

Patrick just laughs, running a hand down your stomach and into your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, the palm of his hand grinding roughly against the soaked cotton of your panties. “You’re fucking dripping all over me, holy shit,” Patrick breathes, long fingers sliding easily through the wet mess of your folds. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, staring down at where his hand disappears beneath the waistband.

“I think,” Patrick breathes, “that you need to let Art eat your pussy, and I think I need to watch.”

Your mind goes blank, sparks going off at the base of your spine as Patrick’s words echo in your ears. Art’s lips still against your neck, he’s practically whining, greedy hands roaming all over your soft skin.

You feel a rush of heat, your pussy aching with the need for exactly that. The thought of Art eating you out, with his gentle touches and caring eyes, juxtaposed with Patrick's commanding presence looming over the whole thing, sends you spiraling. You can hardly breathe, every nerve ending alive with anticipation and desire. The room seems to shrink around you, the air thick with tension, as you struggle to find your voice, to process the electrifying proposition that now hangs in the air between you.

You meet Art’s heavy gaze, his pupils dilated with a mix of want and need completely swallowing up the blue. His breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel the tremor in his hands as they move to caress your thighs. Patrick's presence is a steady force behind you, his hand gently but firmly guiding you to make the choice you know you both want.

Finally, you manage to whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation, “Yes.”

Art wrestles your shorts down your legs quickly, yanking them off and tossing them behind his shoulder. Your panties are quick to follow, rolling and bunching up until he huffs in frustration and rips them straight down the middle, leaving the tattered fabric to hang limply around your ankles. The surprised moan that leaves your lips at Art’s restraint finally snapping is almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Patrick’s laugh at how fast Art’s on his stomach between your legs. 

Patrick hooks his thick legs over yours, keeping you spread open and exposed. Art’s eyes screw shut, his head falling to rest on the ground, like the sight of your slick pussy is just too much. “Shit,” he mutters, hips twitching slight against the floor.

“Come on, Art,” Patrick goads, “know you wanna taste this pretty pussy.” He reaches over and spreads your pussy open in a lewd “v” with his fingers, “Make our girl feel good.”

Art looks up at you, face flushed and eyes wide, blonde curls flopping over his forehead messily. “Is this okay?” He’s so close you can feel his hot breath fanning over your slick, aching clit.

“Yes–” You barely get the word out before Art rushes forward, trailing kisses along your inner thighs. His mouth is everywhere but where you want it to be. You whine, hips twitching towards his face in an attempt to get him to touch you. “Please, Art.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, tone way too earnest for what he’s about to do, finally sliding his tongue through the wet lips of your pussy. He drags it teasingly up the seam of you, all the way up till he’s circling your clit. His tongue laving over the tips of Patrick’s fingers each time.

Being sandwiched between the two of them is almost too much and somehow still not enough. Art splayed out on his stomach between your legs, head buried in your violently trembling thighs. Patrick plastered to your back, sweaty and firm as he spreads you wide open for his best friend's mouth.

Art’s big hands grip the sensitive skin of your inner thighs hard, his tongue licking broad strokes over your pussy as Patrick’s fingers start to rub fast circles on your clit while he spews filth over your shoulder.

“Fuck that’s so hot,” Patrick growls, “look at you, all spread out for us.”

You look down at Art to see he’s already looking at you. Sparkly eyes shiny and wet, brows furrowed as he keeps licking and licking, so messy with it that spit drips down his chin. His nose pressed up against all the right spots, making you see stars every time you blink. You never would have guessed it but he is fucking good at this, either he’s way too humble or selling himself short because holy shit.

Art's moaning and whining into your pussy like he's the one getting head, hands surely bruising your thighs with how hard he's gripping them. The roll of his hips fucking down against the ground is sinful.

“God– fucking shit, Art,” You whine pathetically, shaking with just how much ecstasy is coursing through your body. You think you may pass out.

“You like that?” Patrick asks hotly, lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, “You like watching him fuck the ground like a slut while he eats your pussy?” His fingers raise to give your clit a light slap, your head rolls back onto his shoulder as you cry out.

“Mmph, Patrick-!” Your thighs clench, trying in vain to squeeze shut. Patrick keeps them spread, his free hand coming around to grip Art’s hair, roughly dragging his head up and down your pussy faster. Art groans so loud against your clit that you actually feel the vibration, his hips rutting into the ground faster.

“Art–! I’m so close, God, I’m coming, Patrick, I’m coming, I’m com-” You cry out, cut off by Patrick's mouth slamming over yours, sucking your tongue into his mouth. “Do it,” he spits, biting your lower lip meanly, “fucking come, come all over your best friends face.”

Your thighs shake as you come, hands gripping Art’s hair like a vice as you gush over his tongue. He moans into your pussy, working you through the aftershocks. He drags his tongue along you until the over-stimulation gets to be too much and you’re dragging his face away by his hair. 

“Alright,” Patrick says breezily, dragging his tongue from the corner over your mouth to the hinge of your jaw to catch your earlobe between his teeth. “Art got to have his fun,” he laughs, dark eyes staring pointedly at the wet patch soaking the front of Art’s boxers.

Art's too fucked out to even jab him back, chest heaving with each breath he takes. His lips are slick and red, the complete lower half of his face shining with your come, glazed over eyes half-open and dark. The sight is enough to have your pussy clenching, ready for round two. Patrick’s hips grind into your back purposely, dragging his still hard dick against your ass. “Now it’s my turn.”

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[bl6ckr0s3]

Challenging Reality

Leaving off from what I vented last on a video, I was able to see my son over Zoom eventually that late afternoon on Sunday. I didn’t hear back from his father on Saturday night because they went to the beach and got back late in which he could’ve told me rather than for me to be waiting all night wondering. We had a nice video session with him while we were out yesterday doing Uber so it was nice to be able to see him during the early afternoon. 

I realized that at work, I’m going to be working the tray line for a good while because I am replacing what Judy was originally helping with. Her bid is inside the green room by the dock and she’s returning to her assignment. She volunteered to work the tray line for the last several months, but now I am stuck to the job as a new fresh bidder to the 010/020 unit. When I called out twice during the tour 3 schedule, that was it for them. They gave me a 2nd II and then just last Friday they gave me a notice letter of all the dates I called out. My union rep Sean, told me that we can’t allow it to get to step 3 which is a 7 day paid suspension, because what comes after that is a 14 day non-paid suspension and then they will fire you. I don’t have any medical documentation since I don’t have no fucking health insurance or money to see the doctor here, and what documentation would they expect to see when the human body is struggling to stay awake on a night shift? I been told many people has called off on that job shift, so I dunno. I been showing up to work every day since then, but they should see that I been able to show up to work just fine during tour 3 shift. It’s definitely been a lot better and more relieving for me knowing that I get off work around the time I was barely just coming to work on the old shift. 

Last 4th of July was a horrible holiday. We didn’t even get to enjoy it. We showed up at the show early around 2:18pm. There were already old fat people camping out on folding chairs and umbrellas in which we made a dumb choice not to bring. I assumed that it was going to be an overcast weather even though it was so fuckin hot & humid. Knowing that it was a good chance of rain that day, we still stood under the hot sun with no shade for 2-3 hours. Eventually the heat fucked us up and we had to leave. I only had a chance to shoot the first opening band then we had to leave because Joshua started having a panic attack. We thought he was going through a heat stroke at first, but it turns out that his body was having a panic attack right after we ate McD’s. We were trying to cool off from being exposed in the heat and then we had to call 911 to take him to the hospital because he was scared & didn’t know what to do. That was when it began raining. I was pissed that it began raining right after we left the show because we really wanted to stay to see Brad Praisley for free. How often does free shows like that happen? Well if we get lucky and get another chance to see a show like that again, it will happen. This was the 2nd time Brad did a free show like this, of course with tons of sponsors in town which was what helped make the free show happened. It’s just too bad it wasn’t inside a big venue instead of being out in the fucking heat. 

When the ambulance took Joshua to the hospital, I followed behind the ambulance truck, but damn they drove pretty fast in the hard rain storm. Thankfully, I was able to find the right hospital they dropped off Joshua at, and I had to wait awhile before I was able to go in to see him. It’s just weird that they said that everything looked good with his vitals, blood pressure, heart, etc. It turned out that he had a panic attack. The heat on top of the junk food that we had for lunch was what triggered it on 4th of July. Yesterday, his panic attack came in again during a delivery and he drove us back to the hospital to see a doctor again. They finally prescribed some anxiety pills for him to take, but the energy drink that he got from the gas station was what triggered his panic attack yesterday. I threw away the drink in the trash can at a Taco Bell while he was using the restroom, I brought some water for him to see if it would calm down his anxiety. Anyways, he needed medication for his anxiety and stress for the longest time, now this was the only time he was forced to accept the fact that he needed medication. He really hates medication, but I told him as long as we both know that we are people who don’t abuse that kind of stuff, use it for what it’s for. We ended up picking up 2 medications yesterday before getting lunch from Arby’s and returning home. He was already drowsy and slurring from the Dramamine that he took on top of the 2 medicines they gave him at the hospital. Just like I predicted, he passed the fuck out right after we ate. He fell asleep with the vape in his hand, I was up for a little bit then I decided to take a nap with him. I woke up around 9 or 11pm and was playing my Ants game before falling back asleep for another few hours. Last night, when Joshua woke up around 1am, he thought it was the afternoon when it was really still night time. We were up this morning and left around 8am back to the Walgreens because he didn’t check the medication that we picked up from Walgreens later to find out that he didn’t pick up the most important one, Xanex which is the important pill only meant for emergencies if his panic attack comes back while his body has to break in the other medication that he will be on daily for the month. 

I have to make a phone call to Sean and he wants to 3 way speak with one of the reps of the APWU to make sure they are no longer taking my money from my check. I plan on looking into applying for medical thru the union so that I can have insurance here in Tennessee as well as maybe have a chance to put Joshua on my plan so that he can at least have some kind of insurance coverage for once. I notice with union medical insurance, they seem to allow employees to put domestic partners on their plan which is great. Only the federal employee health benefits only allow married spouses to be placed on the plan, but it’s fine. Once the APWU cancels my union dues and disability insurance plan, I can apply for a medical plan for the NMHPU to have insurance in Tennessee and still keep my Federal benefits in California to keep my son covered. I have to make sure I bring my attendance back up to good standing and start requesting days off ahead of time when I need a day off.

I ended up having to push my counseling session meeting towards the beginning of August since my counselor is going on vacation towards the end of July. The appointments have all been booked until she returns from her vacation. That will give me plenty of time to fill out the forms I need to turn back in to her, but I need to find time to print those forms out at a Staples or Office Max so that I can fill them out before my first meeting with Ivy Jeffries. 

If I get lucky, I may be able to still keep my job if I don’t fuck up my attendance anymore. I normally don’t call out a lot like I have when I was on tour 1, but that’s the whole fucking reason I bid out to tour 3. I got shit going on, if they don’t give a fuck they can go fuck themselves. I know I may not end up being with this company forever. If my dream comes true, I may not have to retire with this job as sad as it sounds that I moved out of California for a better life. I been with the company for 11 years. Sean knows that I am a good worker and that he will do what he can to help me.

[hlmowrer]

Week Six: "Dude, she WHITE"

This week went by much faster than last week, which I shall accept as a blessing.  It was enough of a blur that I am finding it difficult to give you a generalized overview, so here's a day-by-day of what generally happened.  (Three cheers for good journaling...)

Monday: Monday was rad.  A week ago Elder Wilchek felt inspired to knock a certain street on the edge of town.  That day produced three return visits (which was crazy at the time...usually it's zero).  I was less enthusiastic about it this week though because the first guy said I could come back in five years, and if I was still Mormon he would come to church. (Hah, dude underestimates both my faith and my love of time capsules...but that doesn't exactly help me as a missionary.)  The second guy was "out of town" when we came back at the time he agreed to and has not answered our calls.  But on Monday we went to see the third guy, and that man is READY.  His name is Andrew, and he had already begun reading the Book of Mormon we gave him and we ended up staying at his place for an hour answering his questions.  He is excited to have us back today...he was going to come to church yesterday but fell at work and broke his knee.  The adversary is a petty dude...I hope Andrew will be able to see the connection there.

Tuesday: Tuesday's flagship event was Zone Conference, a big event where everyone in my zone (the green border on the attached map) came to Midland to do trainings, hear devotionals, and have lunch with each other and mission leadership.  It was pretty good...although nobody told me there would be lunch so I was STUFFED when I found out there was going to be catering, thus making it the second time President and Sister Heap have tried to buy me a nice meal five seconds after I gorged myself.  I really hope that stops being a pattern.

Wednesday: Wednesday started rather sour because we had literally nothing scheduled and trying to fill a 16 hour work day with no source material is beyond frustrating.  However, the night before had brought quite a lot of snow and we received an order from President telling us to stay inside.  So I had a nice hot cocoa day, and I learned how to shine my shoes.

Thursday: Nothing of note happened on Thursday, other than that I felt perhaps slightly better about being out here?  It was very slight, but it was a nice feeling and I hope it's a sign of greater things to come.

Friday: Friday was another one of those super long empty days, and the snow did not rescue me this time.  After Thursday's contentment I guess the universe needed to remind me that the woods are not behind me yet.

Saturday: In Saturday I went on an exchange to Saginaw, about half an hour away from Midland.  Saginaw is a fever dream.  It's one of those cities where there's a big river going through it, and everyone on one side of the river is stable and everyone on the other side is in abject poverty.  I don't know how else to say it.  Literally like 20% of the houses on the east side of Saginaw are burned out.  The elder I was with explained that it's because people can't pay for heat so they leave their ovens on all night...and then when the house is burned the wreckage stays there forever because the land becomes nearly worthless.  I've never seen anything like it.  I've also never seen an area with that much missionary work.  We had 10 lessons booked in the morning (for reference, I'm lucky to get one every day or two in Midland) and even though over half of them cancelled, there are a near infinite number of referrals and requests to meet with missionaries.  There is no need to knock doors in Saginaw...the people reach out to you on their own.  The people over there are also usually very nice and love to talk, which is a nice break so long as you're not trying to keep a schedule.  I was exhausted by the time I went home though, and I was happy to go back to my slower pace in Midland.

Sunday: Sunday was a treat.  We had our friend Lamar finally show up for church at the last minute...with his kids!  He seemed happy to be there, and the ward greeted him extremely warmly, which I was very proud of them for.  Lamar seemed to appreciate being noticed, but many of the older members had quite a bit of trouble with his name...after a sister kept not quite getting it for the third time, Lamar looked over at us and proclaimed "Dude, she WHITE!".  It took a lot of effort not to belly laugh in front of everyone.  Anyway, the topic in sacrament meeting just so happened to be conversion as well...We did not know this before we put extra effort into getting people to church this week.  God's designs are intricate and awesome.  I only hope I've gotten Lamar's name right...all the confusion with the members has lead me to worry that his name may actually be Lamont.

All in all, my mission is moving forward.  Sometimes it feels like it, sometimes it doesn't.  Sometimes I'm busy and content, sometimes I'm bored and stressed.  Welcome to life I guess.  I feel like I at least made progress this week, and I thank God for that.  Nothing to do now but jump into a new week and see what happens I guess.

With all my love, as always

-Elder Beren Mowrer

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.

oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS

this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors

so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere

is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)

ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack

feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit

so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face

but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her

you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh

so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason

looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek

anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice

MOTHERFUCKER I’M

fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????

fucking hell she’s crying!!

lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much

fkKJKLMMMHFGH

“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir

and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees

“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”

oh hey All Might

you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man

OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN

I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy

dfslkjlk oh my god

fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh

AWWWWW

I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier

so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud

and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now

which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt

so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either

mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises

but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid

Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT

and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient

anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU

dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK

YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??

oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS

YOU GUYS

I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL

NOOOOO

I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON

AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME

(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)

LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD

I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH

I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD

well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then

YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI

YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI

(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)

MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH

(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)

TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST

“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL

oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY

and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh

so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM

oh MY GOD

you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord

HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER

HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF

SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS

YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!

lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve

[cevans16]

I’m Sorry

Summary: You and Sebastian have your first big fight.

You and Sebastian had been dating for almost two years, you had made sure to keep a low profile since you wanted to keep some privacy from the public eye and not be scrutinized by the world. Sebastian was surprised when you had shared that with him, all his past girlfriends couldn’t wait to share with the world, you always told him as long as your close friends and family knew that’s all that mattered. 

Unfortunately Sebastian woke up one Friday morning with his phone blowing up which caused him to wake up. He looked around for you but you were gone, he knew you were either at the gym or getting breakfast for you both. He checked his notifications to see that there were public pictures of you two at a local small restaurant you two had always gone to. There was one of you enjoying dinner and another of you two kissing, he didn’t know how someone found out since only you two knew about it. He felt his blood boil thinking that it was too good to be true that you didn’t want to go public, maybe you had set him up, maybe you called the press to make yourself thrive. He called you but it went straight to voicemail, you were definitely at the gym. He left a voicemail, “(Y/N), call me as soon as you get this.... I can’t believe you” he said angrily and hung up. While he waited for you he jumped in the shower to cool off but it didn’t work. 

It had been two hours and he hadn’t heard from you yet, he was going to call you again but then you walked in. “Hey what’s going on? You sounded pissed” you said to him. You dropped your gym bag and went into the kitchen to set up the breakfast that you had bought after. “I can’t believe you (Y/N), you think I’m stupid or what!” he said raising his voice at you. “What do you mean?” you asked genuinely confused, he went to the room to grab his phone in order to show you the pictures. He practically shoved his phone in your face, “All this time you had me convinced you only cared about me” he said a little hurt. You couldn’t believe he was telling you this, you looked into his eyes but the Seb you knew was gone in that moment, this man was furious and hurt, you had never seen him this way, yes you guys bickered here and there but never to this extent. 

“You think I would do this?” you asked as calm as you could. “Honestly yes, you probably waited for us to come this far to do it” he said smugly. You felt your heart drop at his comment, you didn’t think he’d ever say that, let alone believe it. You tried not to let your tears drop in front of him, you moved into the bedroom to pack a few of your clothes into a luggage bag, Sebastian followed you hot on your heels, “Of course you don’t have anything to say since you got caught” he said snarkily. You turned to look at him dead in the eyes, “You know what, I didn’t do this Sebastian, I don’t know how they found out but it wasn’t me. The fact that you think I did it hurts, I was the one who suggested we keep this private, I’m the one who sacrificed part of my freedom to be with you and for you to think I would throw away your trust for that, I’m done. I’m leaving” you said feeling your voice shake at the last part. Sebastian felt his eyes fill with tears but he was still angry, so he let you walk out the door without another word. 

A few days had gone by and you had yet to hear from him, to say it didn’t hurt was an understatement, you missed him so much. You were crashing at a friends place who was on the other side of town, lucky for you it was actually closer to your workplace. You accepted more work to keep your mind busy and not wanting to intrude too much on your friend’s space even though she had said you could stay as long as you liked. Sebastian missed you too but he was adamant that you had set up the pictures. He had a call with his agent about a few upcoming projects when he found out who had leaked your guys location....his publicist. Apparently they thought it would have been a great idea to finally make you guys public to bring more attention to Sebastian’s career. He immediately ended the call saying he would later let them hear about it for not asking him first. He tried to reach you on your cell, each time it went straight to voicemail, he didn’t blame you for it. 

For all Sebastian knew you could’ve flown back to your hometown, he had to figure out a way to know where you were. The next early morning, he went to your friends place where you were staying at, she had told him that you were okay and still in town, that gave him some hope. Later that day you walked into your office from lunch to find a bouquet of flowers on your desk. You looked around to see everyone staring at you and smiling, you rolled your eyes moving your flowers over to get settled in your desk, your coworker next to you asked immediately, “Trouble in paradise?”, “Ehhh you can say that”, he shrugged and went back to looking at his computer, “I’m sorry I hope it gets better, just don’t kill yourself by overworking, trust me I’ve been there”, “Thanks”. You looked to see what the note said (Y/N) I messed up please meet me home later -Sebastian Your heart skipped looking at his name at the end but you were annoyed that he expected you to meet him when he was the one who screwed up. You got up letting your coworker know you’d be outside if they needed you, “Good luck” he said genuinely. You called Sebastian pacing back and forth, you were about to hang up when you heard his voice, your stomach getting butterflies at the sound of him. “Sebastian you expect me to move my schedule to meet you when I’m not the one who screwed up!?” you gritted between your teeth. You didn’t hear anything else from him, he must’ve realized that mistake. “(Y/N) I am so sorry, can I meet you at your place? Or anywhere? I just want to see you” he said, “Why? I wanted to set up my career right, well guess what I am working late tonight” you said trying to make an excuse, you did want to see Sebastian but you wanted to make him work for it. “It’s okay I want to see you today (Y/N)” he said, “Okay I’ll be in the office until 9, see you then, I gotta go Sebastian”, you hung up feeling a bit guilty for doing so. 

You were the only one left in the office after your coworker left half an hour before you. You were finishing up on a report you had been working on the whole week when you heard Sebastian come in, right on time at 9. He shyly smiled at you and walked over to your desk, sitting beside you. He sighed trying to gather what he would say without messing up, “(Y/N), I am so sorry about accusing you of those pictures, I feel like such an asshole for what I said to you”, you could feel the tears forming in your eyes, after a minute you finally looked away from your computer as you had finished your report and sent it to your boss. You turned to looked at Sebastian, he looked exhausted, his hair was a mess, his eyes were tired, he barely put effort in what he was wearing. “I know I shouldn’t have let my past experiences get the best of me and lashed out on you” he added. “You know the shitty part was you thinking I would do this for ‘my career’, I have thrived in my career way before I met you Sebastian so I don’t know why you said that, it hurt that you didn’t TRUST ME” you sobbed into your hands, Sebastian immediately pulled you in for a hug to soothe you, he was the cause of it. He tried his best to hold in his own tears, “I’m so sorry honey. It’s all I have ever known, every girl I dated only wanted to because I was the guy in those Marvel movies and when I found out about the pictures I felt my heart sink thinking it was happening all over again. I don’t know how to say or show you how sorry I am for jumping to conclusions, you don’t deserve that baby”. You didn’t say anything else for a while, just stayed with your head buried into his chest.  “I don’t know about you....but I still want this to work....and I really hope you do too” Sebastian said. You thought about it, you were so in love with this man, you couldn’t say goodbye to him. You looked up at him, “Sebastian I still love you.....it won’t be easy but I want this to work too”, with that he leaned in to kiss you passionately, “I love you so much baby” he said, “and next time please just kick my ass” he said causing you two to laugh. “Oh I will” you replied. You got your stuff to head back home, to yours and Sebastian’s place. Everything will be okay. 

[shhhlikeme]

hello!! i really loved your hq writing and i think they were pretty spot on! do u mind writing abt a reader who’s basically a first year version of kiyoko (like everyone is attracted to her) and all the first years are just into her but come to find out she’s been dating yamaguchi all this time ? jealous yams maybe? sorry if it’s too specific🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Yamaguchi Tadashi x Really Sexy Yoga Instructor S/O

———————————

A/N: Thank you so much anon! You’re speaking my language with this request😍

It sounds a lot like the first ever request I got here, so this can be seen as a part two, or read as a stand alone. I hope you like it!!!

Not NSFW, but please only read if you’re over 18 y/o.

———————————

Yams, your beloved boyfriend of a few months will be the first to admit that he made a mistake volunteering you to help his volleyball team

About a month ago, Coach Ukai felt as though the team was way too pent up and ordered his players to indulge in some calming activities on one of the no-practice days with the goal of making the team less irritable

The coach found that Yoga would be a great solution

Coach Ukai had read that the benefits of Yoga include but are not limited to: increased flexibility, increased muscle strength and tone, improved respiration, more energy and vitality, maintenance of a balanced metabolism, improved athletic performance, protection from injury, overall relaxation and stress relief.

Ukai thought that yoga was a no-brainer because if Karasuno was going to win the National tournament, then they had to adopt unconventional means in order to get an edge on the competition

Unfortunately, Takeda, the volleyball club’s advisor, couldn’t exactly find the budget to get the entire team signed up for weekly yoga sessions at the big studio downtown

Aw man :(

But fear not! smh

Your boyfriend to the team’s rescue! Great 😑

Thank goodness for your sweet baby 👍🏾 not

He’s just too caring for his own good isn’t he? You wish he’d stop

Because he..... well, lucky for Karasuno, your boyfriend Yamaguchi happily suggested that the team goes to the Karasuno High School’s Yoga Club sessions at the local community centre. The community centre hosts great swim, cooking, and even archery lessons! It would be perfect because it would be within budget and the 7am yoga sessions were always empty, because not many people knew about them.

“How do you know they’re legit? I don’t want my players getting hurt because some kids think it’s fun to twist n’ contort their bodies —“ Inquired coach Ukai. The entire team turned to Tadashi, awaiting his response.

Your annoying sweet man explained that all of the Yoga club members are certified by Japanese Health Standards and they are well-versed in their instructing, it was kind of the point of the club. He was sure the club would love the volleyball team’s company

Your boyfriends’ coach’s face lit up. When Ukai’s next question pertained to how tf Tadashi knew all of this, that’s finally when his face fell

Oops.

He’s so cute He wanted to help so badly he forgot that this could be a bad idea

How did he know all this? Well, maybe because his girlfriend of 3 months, you, run the damn club. And he knows everything about you because he’s whipped.

However, Tadashi couldn’t exactly tell them that was the reason because he is very private and didn’t want to introduce his beautiful girlfriend to guys that were sure to drool over her

Plus he wanted to make sure you weren’t in a daze when he confessed to you, testing whether one day you’ll wake up & realize you made a big mistake

Yamaguchi, quick on his feet, just said that you were his friend and you ran the club.

They believed it obviously, and that’s how it all started

Since there were multiple morning Yoga sessions, Coach Ukai divided the team into years for mandatory session attendance. The first years were scheduled for Monday’s at 7am, the second years on Wednesday’s (same time) and the 3rd years were on Fridays (same time).

You were late to your first session with the boys because even though Yams told you the team would start coming (and to keep your relationship a secret) you were used to being the only one here doing Yoga

You were only slightly startled when you opened the door to your beloved studio and saw Karasuno volleyball’s first years: Tsukishima, Kageyama, Hinata and your beautiful man Yams sitting down on Yoga mats patiently.

You cheerily introduced yourself and greet everyone, finding yourself happy to have the company

Yamaguchi was the only one to verbally greet you back, because the other boys were staring at you with what you would deem odd expressions

Yams noticed his solo greeting too and looked over to his teammates. He frowned because he knew the look on their faces and the lack of a voice very well.

How could he not? It was the same reaction he had when he saw you for the first time he was sure you came out of his wet dreams

You are so hot, and now his fellow first years were noticing

Yams pouted inside

Anyway, the same way you didn’t notice when Yamaguchi had that stare when you two met, you just got straight to business, setting down your pink yoga mat and water bottle and explaining all the rules.

It’s a good thing yoga sessions are supposed to be silent with only the sounds of the rain forest playing loud through the rooms speakers because I don’t think the boys could have spoken anyway

You did basic yoga stretches and had the boys follow your every movement

As you showed them the simple beginner poses, Tadashi caught Hinata and Kageyama sneaking glances at your figure with heavy blushes on their faces

If Tsukki thought you were attractive, which omfg did he ever, he didn’t show it in the slightest

Yamaguchi was happy to call him his best friend

The quick-attack boys could not say the same

Like the schoolboys they are, they relished in seeing a gorgeous female’s flexible body easily contort in front of them

Tadashi noted that, for two of the most intensely competitive people he knew, the two were peculiarly a little TOO happy with not doing any of the yoga poses correctly, he could guess why

You, still clueless, walked around the room to help the boys get into correct positioning platonically, the way every Yoga instructor does.

Tadashi on the other hand, was doing so well and you badly wished you could kiss him whenever you moved his body but you were respecting his wishes to keep you two a secret

Kags and Shōyō almost had internal panic attacks when you touched them or got close

They weren’t the greatest with girls but they were especially bad when one of the prettiest and fittest girls they’ve ever encountered was touching them and whispering in their ears to ‘turn like this’ ‘open up a bit more’ because of how quiet yoga should be

The combustion train has left the building! Choo choo 💨

You laughed when volleyball duo boys started shoving each other when Hinata fell out of a pose and landed on Kags

Tadashi’s eyes narrowed because he selfishly didn’t want you laughing at anything those boys did. Nevertheless, he shook it off

Maybe it will get better once the initial shock of your hotness wears off, Yams thought to himself when he left Yoga that morning.

Sure, because that’s how it worked with Kiyoko right?

Yeah, right. The following Monday you were still hot and the boys were still drooling over you.

At real volleyball practices and at lunch time Yamaguchi has to constantly hear the team (minus Tsukishima) gush about how attractive you are and how it wasn’t so bad waking up early in the morning if you were the view they were getting up to see

Now, Tadashi would definitely describe himself as a pretty calm guy......as would anyone who knows him......

But hearing his friends gush about you like you weren’t the smartest, most creative, genuine, conscientious person...... just an ideal body and gorgeous face not that they would know evoked jealous emotions deep within him

On dates with you he would inquire about the other volleyball yoga sessions you taught and you would tell him truthfully that your class of 3rd years were always fine, well behaved and very quiet because they were too busy fantasizing about you in their heads to talk dkm

and then you told your boyfriend that 2 of the second years were pretty flirty take a wild guess who? But that the one boy named Ennoshita got them to simmer down and then stop with the comments completely

Tadashi made a mental note to do a favour for his future captain

He was beginning to get irritated with the way these strong amazing athletes that he looked up to were reduced to goo when his girlfriend came around

He knew it was irrational to be so upset because he was sure they would chill out if they knew she was his girlfriend but

He just wasn’t ready for that yet.

So he endured the comments because even though the team was full of hormonone-crazy males, they never were vulgar or disrespectful in their remarks that was saved for all of their dreams and shower time

Either way,

None of that could stop the locker room talk.

“Did Y/N teach you guys the puppy dog stretch too this week?” Chirped Nishinoya as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The boys nodded. “Man is she s-m-o-k-i-n-g or what?? Don’t you think so, Asahi?”

Yams looked over from his locker to see the quiet and timid Ace of the team unable to help sporting a blush and nodding in agreement to Nishinoya.

Tadashi did NOT like this conversation. He took to chugging his water in order to distract himself from saying something he was sure to regret

“I-I really like Y/N’s yoga pants. They’re really cool!”

Kageyama rolled his eyes at Hinata's comment. “Of course you do, Boke.”

“Keep dreaming short stack!” Hollered Tanaka as he hopped in a super man pose on top of a bench. “For I will one day marry Y/N!”

Uncontrollably, Yamaguchi’s entire liquid contents in his mouth drenched Sugawara’s back in a spit take. Everyone laughed.

Let’s just say Karasuno’s vice captain made Yams do laps until his legs felt like they would fall off

By the third week, poor Yamaguchi had it up to HERE with the team’s pining after his girl.... be it Daichi’s subtle suggestion to the coach to extend AND increase the amount of yoga sessions, to Nishinoya’s memorization of the exact colour of your lip gloss per session

Yams actually growled under his breath when he heard both I swear to God

Yamaguchi felt like he was going to burst if he didn’t wring any necks first .

The entire team was smitten with his secret girlfriend and it made him insanely jealous. He couldn’t deny it anymore.

You were his. And only his. He wished he never volunteered you to help the team in the first place!

On your dates as a couple, you noticed that Yams was much more tense than he used to be before you started instructing the team. You told him over and over that you would quit this very second because he was so much more important than some silly club. You even suggested easily swapping with your second-in-command as instructor but

He wouldn’t have any of that. Apparently the team was already improving significantly in skill from Yoga like the Coach predicted. You are the best instructor your club had, and his team needed the best.

Plus he knows you love doing it and he puts your happiness before his own

The situation just sucked!

On the final yoga session before nationals, you arranged for the entire team to conjoin in one single morning session that would be longer at two hours instead of one, to go through everything they have learned in a mass session. It was also to make sure the numbers were even because today would be strictly focused on Partner Yoga!

The crows filed in to your studio, excited to see you and set up as usual

You walked in and told them about the partner yoga, and before they could volunteer to be your partner and upset your boyfriend, you told everyone you already had a partner and gestured toward the studio entryway:

Kiyoko walked in with a wave at her introduction and she spread her yoga mat next to you facing the class

They said 😳😳😳😳🤯🤯🤯🤯

The entire room was silent. Everyone minus Tsukki and your boyfriend combusted. Like they were done

Remember that combustion train? Yeah it just arrived at its destination: Nosebleed Central.

The boys’ little minds couldn’t fathom two extremely hot girls in compromising, stretchy positions that would look anything but innocent in their male minds

It was kind of a dream come true

You didn’t care that they were acting weird and you started the session, telling the boys to pair up and follow yours and Kiyoko’s lead

Even Yams started to feel hot and bothered at the sight of the multiple positions

he always felt horny watching you instruct yoga but he was able to satiate his lust by reminding himself that you told him you want to sleep with him when he was ready, even though you were taking it slow. he’s always blushing so none of the guys ever thought anything if it

Satiating himself with that thought again, though, flew out the window as an option because you just looked too incredibly hot in partner positions. It got to the point where he wanted to kick Kiyoko out so you could practice these yoga positions with him

He wanted to be the one to put your leg on his shoulder as he pounded into your heat, not Kiyoko no matter how hottttttttt it was to look at

Suga used his fingers to flick Tadashi on the forehead to get his attention away from his secret girlfriend and back to the yoga positions he should be trying with him

“Dude.... trust me, I know, and I agree...” Suga nods in understanding as he glances over at the beautiful girls once more. It takes a good amount of effort for him to peel his eyes back to Yamaguchi. “But we have to do this. Try to pretend they’re not as hot as they are.” He gives your bf a thumbs up for encouragement

Yams didn’t smile back even though he commenced yoga again like his vice captain requested. Yams just wanted all of this to be over so he could somehow sneak you into one of the abandoned rooms in this community centre and take you right there.

Since Kiyoko was only there to demonstrate the positions and not join the class because she had other commitments, she had to leave pretty early

You went around helping everyone like you usually did, and now you definitely noticed how red all the boys’ cheeks were. Yams couldn’t even look at you the entire time he did yoga with Suga and you started to wonder if you did something wrong. Hm.....

Yams couldn’t look at you because he was using every ounce of his restraint to keep from jumping your bones

Before long, Y/N’s final yoga session was nearing completion until you realized that you had forgotten to demonstrate the final pose when Kiyoko was here.

Glancing at your boyfriend who was giving you the cold shoulder, you timidly asked if anyone minded being your partner to demonstrate—

Like zoo animals, all of the boys volunteered!!! You yelped because of how loud they got in the quiet room in a split second.

Does it matter who you choose?

Yamaguchi felt himself boil over in jealousy. These boys were throwing themselves at the woman who means everything to him, and that was enough to drive any man to the brink of insanity.

While the boys bickered about who would be your partner Hinata and Nishi already started the Rock Paper Scissors tournament, including the usually collected captains, Tadashi briskly made his way towards you with purpose. Without even thinking about it he cupped your face with one of his hands and tilted your lips towards his for a deep kiss.

You felt your knees weaken at the intensity of the unexpected kiss from the love of your life.

Yams wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you steady when he felt your knees weaken.

You two barely heard the collective gasp in the room...

...Nor did you hear Tsukki mutter a flat “I knew it.”

When you finally pulled away from your boyfriends perfect lips, you were still drunk off the kiss while he remembered where you two were

With an aura of manly confidence that could only come from the overwhelming satisfaction of giving into the animalistic urge to claim your mate in front of other males, Yamaguchi turned to his team. Shoulders back and confident, he smiled smugly

“Did I forget to tell you all that Y/N is my girlfriend? I’d appreciate if all the endless comments about how beautiful she is would cease to exist, at least around me. She’s very much taken. Oh, and I, ONLY I....will be her partner. Thanks.”

Ok can you imagine how fucking sexy shy Yams would look being strict, intimidating and completely territorial over you? 🤤

Karasuno’s team was stunned into silence before Nishinoya started a slow clap applause like they do in the movies.

Only Tanaka joined in with him. The rest of the team is not that lame

You, on the other hand, got so turned on by your boyfriend display of protection and jealousy that you muttered that class was over and you used your hand to turn Yams attention back to you. You got on the tips of your toes to pull him into another passionate kiss again.

You loved it.

Seeing this side of him stirred up a lot of emotions in you and you couldn’t help but ask your boyfriend if he wanted to skip school today. Your parents weren’t going to be home for 2 days and you had the house to yourself.

With half lidded eyes that only served to turn you on more Yamaguchi agreed.

I hope he knows that he was in for a really long and pleasurable day and night.....you were about to put those years of yoga training to good use, and your boyfriend couldn’t be luckier.

[heartbreakgrill]

Birthday Girl; Luke Alvez

description: pining after a fellow team member adds a little bit of spice to your birthday celebrations

a/n: ahhhhh this is my first time writing for criminal minds and I’m so nervous to share. I want to write more for them, especially for the entire team because they make me happy 😚 enjoy, kids!

“Tonight! Tonight! It all happens tonight!”

You spun your office chair around, facing the giddy glee that was Penelope Garcia. She had a party hat on, extra glitter upon her cheeks, and was singing incredibly off-key. Your eyes flickered to her hands as they moved towards you. Next thing you knew, you were wearing a sparkly, pink princess crown and a sash stating you were the birthday girl.

Your cheeks turned a bright red, but you stood nonetheless and enveloped Penelope in a hug. “Happy birthday, my dearest, most beautiful-est, wonderful, sweet little munchkin baby!”

You giggled into her shoulder, inhaling her sweet perfume and attitude. “Thank you, Pen.”

She squeezed you, rocking the two of you side to side. You wobbled on your heeled booties and took the liberty of pushing her off of you before she could knock you down.

“I swear to the sweet, sweet heavens above that if your birthday gets interrupted by some sick weirdo, I will be absolutely unhappy,” Penelope followed you to your desk as you sat back down. She leaned against it, eyes at the heavens and a fist raised, too.

You planted your elbows on the desk, “It’s okay, Pen. We can always celebrate when we get back, if we have a case. Which we won’t. Because you’re manifesting it.”

Penelope looked at you firmly, “You’re dang right I am. But don’t think I don’t know you’re thinking of ways to get out of it. I know you’re not a little social butterfly, but please, just let me have this one birthday.”

You had worked at the BAU for 5 years, but you were a quiet little thing. You went out for drinks and hung out with your little family often, but you didn’t like when all of the attention was on you. It was slightly unprofessional whenever you would stutter during profiles, but you tried your best.

However, this year, Penelope had managed to talk you into allowing her to throw you a birthday night you would never forget. You didn’t know the itenerary, but the get up she’d put on you was tell enough that it would be all eyes on you.

The rest of the team slowly trickled in as the day began, Penelope continuing to talk your ear off. You responded every once and awhile, sometimes barely able to get much in. Everyone had gotten there, but they came in small crowds, so they hadn’t really noticed you yet.

Spencer was the first to point out the tiara and sash. He was coming over with a cup of coffee and muffin he had bought for you at the cafe down the street. It was your birthday, after all, and he was celebrating with a kind gesture.

He set it down beside your folded hands with a smirk. “What’s this, Y/N?” He tugged at the points on the crown.

You blushed, glaring up at him. You nodded your head towards Penelope, who trailed off and met pretty boy’s eyes. “Don’t even, Reid. It is my baby’s birthday and I am finally allowed to celebrate it,” she warned him with a pointed finger.

The word birthday caught the attention of the rest of the team. Matt was especially drawn in because it was his first year with the team.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday, Y/N,” he spoke from across the aisle.

You spun in your chair, cheeks bright red and lips pursed. “Yes, it is.”

“Well, happy birthday, agent...or, I guess, princess.”

The team burst into laughter, Spencer setting a friendly hand on your shoulder. He leaned down and whispered, “Good luck.”

You turned back to your desk and began to fill out more files. Luckily, everybody found their seats and began their work for the day. The rest of the bullpen had gone up in action. A few minutes later, you looked up as a hastened Luke Alvez bounded through the doors. His desk was right next to yours, divided by the plastic overhangs. He sat down, muttering a good morning without even looking at you.

You were so thankful he didn’t notice the crown. It was enough that the entire team had pointed out the get out, and that tonight, they’d all have their entire attention on you. You didn’t need a hot, fit man teasing you about it, too.

But, eventually, when Luke stood up to get coffee, he saw. “You need a refill, Y/N...”

You knew as soon as he trailed off what was to come. You looked up at him timidly, already red in the face. “Yes, please.”

You held out your coffee cup, eyes not meeting his as he gently smiled at you. “Sure.”

He took the mug and left for the kitchen. Your brows furrowed slightly at the fact that he didn’t even say anything. When he came back, he set the mug down beside your half eaten muffin. His palm planted on your desk and he whispered in your ear, “Happy birthday, princess.”

You hung your head, hot all over the place. It was different when it came from Spence and Matt, who you saw as just friends. You had the biggest crush on Luke. And that just sent you over the edge. You bit down on your bottom lip, hard. Luke slumped into his seat with a cheeky smirk. His eyes glanced over at you occasionally. Oh, god. He knew.

You stood from your desk at lunch time before anybody else, quickly striding to Penelope’s office. You threw the door open and closed, loudly.

“Aw! I was going to bring you lunch to you desk, with this cute little unicorn cupcake I bought for you...you look like you just got flashed. Are you okay?” Penelope pulled you into her abandoned chair.

You let out a deep sigh of breath, tugging off your blazer. “I’m so, I’m so...I’m so ugh! He’s so hot, and he knows it. And I’m pretty sure he knows that I think he’s hot, and he’s just so smug, I can’t deal with it. Like, look at his stupid face, Penelope! It’s- UGH!”

Penelope giggled at your reaction. She grabbed your hands and squeezed on tight. “Listen, my love, deep breaths. Is it really so bad if he finds out you’ve been pining over him for a year?”

“Yes! Yes it would! He’s, like, a 20 outta 10. And I’m, like, at least just a 6,” You exclaimed.

Penelope stomped a foot, making you jump in your seat. “Excuse me! Don’t talk about my best friend like that. You are a 1,000. Hell, you are infinite out of 10. Plus, hes just a man. Since when were you so concerned with men and their opinions?”

“Since one made me feel like I was a 10th grade again...” you pouted up at your friend.

Penelope awed at your expression, dropping your hands and wobbling over to her purse. She brought out a purple unicorn cupcake, as promised. She cracked open the plastic covering and set it front of you.

“Eat away the feelings, love. I will be right back with some flower-cut finger sandwiches and homemade lemonade,” Penelope turned to leave, but you stood and tugged her into a hug.

“I’m sorry for being so grouchy about my birthday. I just hat-“

“The attention. I know. It’s alright,” she pulled back and tapped your nose, “I just want to celebrate my beautiful best friend. After today, I will leave you alone. Forever.”

You scoffed as she left, “Yeah, right.”

The day soon came to a close, though you felt like throwing up as each hour passed. Luke continued to make remarks, little, flirtatious ones that had you squirming in your seat. You bit back with quiet mhm’s and sarcastic one-liners. Each time you focused on your work, you felt his eyes watching you. You flipped him off at one point, only gaining a wolf whistle that made you look up and a cheeky wink with, “You make it so hard to love you.”

Penelope dragged you back to your car and into your apartment as quick as possible. She wouldn’t tell you what time things were happening, or what was happening at all. Just that the team would meet you all there. She tossed open the doors to your closet, tearing through the hangers like a wolf.

“You better be coming tomorrow morning to clean this all up,” you crossed your legs and leaned back in your bed. Your birthday had landed on a Friday, lucky enough.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I’m just trying to find something that screams, ‘Luke Alvez, let me climb you like a tree, but also bend me over the desk because it is my birthday!’”

You gasped the loudest you had ever, pure shock overcoming you. “Penelope Garcia, that was the filthiest thing you have ever, ever said!”

Penelope was giggling inside your closet, but cut herself off with a gasp that matched your own. “I found it! I found it, I found it.”

She pulled out a black dress you had bought a while ago for JJ’s wedding. You never ended up wearing it because you felt it drew too much attention to your chest, and you were nervous for that. But Penelope threw it over your head and turned her focus to your curling iron.

“No if’s, and’s, or but’s, my love. You are wearing it. No questions! No complaints! Hurry!”

Eventually, you were ready to go, matching Penelope’s height in blush pink, open-toed heels. Penelope had taken off your everyday makeup and went completely nuts. She made you look incredibly hot in a way you couldn’t even describe. You felt attractive as you walked with Penelope to her car.

The first stop on the birthday celebration, after Penelope had argued with you to put back on the crown and sash (you had), was a really fancy restaurant. You and Penelope often admired it from afar, every time you walked this street to shop and get drinks with the girls. One time, you’d even walked in to see how much it would be and automatically turned around.

“Don’t even try to object, just get out of the car,” Penelope had ran around the car after throwing it in park, pulling open your door excitedly.

She grabbed your arm and tugged you from your seat. You stumbled onto your heels, balancing on the concrete of the sidewalk. You clutched your purse to your chest as the feelings of insecurity and nerves inhabited your body. Penelope threw her arm into your and set the pace. Inside, the hostess asked for the name and you weren’t surprised that it was under ‘Rossi.’

The entire team was sitting at a lengthy table in a private, little corner of the building. You slouched as you noticed them, stopping in your tracks. Penelope didn’t say much, just pushed back your shoulders, patted your cheek, and presented a wide grin. You felt slightly better and put on faux confidence as you made your way to the table.

“Hey! Look who finally arrived!” Dave held up his champagne glass, dressed in his same old two piece suit.

Spencer, Emily, and Matt twisted in their seats to look at you. Luke and Dave were across from them and your breath hitched when the former looked up from the menu in his hands. He smiled cheekily, eyes flickering up and down your body.

Everyone stood up, exchanged hugs as if you hadn’t just seen each other. Penelope sat across from Matt, next to Dave, leaving the only open seat at the head of the table, next to Spencer and Luke.

Luke hugged you last, large hands gently pressing against your hip and back. You shivered beneath his touch and he felt the tense slouch you gave. When he pulled back, he whispered in your ear, “You look beautiful.”

With bright red cheeks, you pulled in your chair and sat. Soon enough, Spencer was pouring you champagne, the waiter was collecting orders, and you were picking at a buttery roll. The team was exchanging conversation that you occasionally chimed in on. It was normal routine. You were surprised Penelope hadn’t thrown in the middle of a bowling alley or something along those lines. This was perfect.

The food came, finally, and the conversation slowed somewhat. Luke nudged you with his elbow and you looked up to meet his eyes.

“How’s your birthday going, princesa?” He bit off a piece of steak.

You swallowed, reaching for your champagne. “It’s really good, actually. I was worried Pen would go over the top. But this is good.”

“You’re not one for attention, I noticed,” he flicked his brows up.

You shook your head gently, “It makes me nervous.”

“Well, I apologize for toeing the line with my comments and stuff.”

“No, it’s...” your eyes flickered away from his, but came back, “it’s okay. I...like it.”

Luke grinned widely, eyes glinting, “Oh, really?”

You blushed and looked down, “Don’t push it, Alvez.”

Luke did push it, though, “Hey, it’s cute. You’re cute.”

You kicked him under the table and he went back to his food with a playful laugh.

Eventually, the food was finished. You handed your plate to the waiter before wiping off your hands and sighing. “Does anybody want dessert?”

The team glanced at you and then to Penelope. She shrugged, “No, I’m good.”

You tilted your head, “There’s somewhere else that we’re going, isn’t there?”

Penelope shrugged again, avoiding your eyes and caressing the mouth of her glass. “No, no there isn’t.”

“Okay, then you won’t mind if I just catch a cab home,” you stretched your arms above your head, yawning. “I’m awfully tired.”

Penelope shouted, “No! No, do not move. I will make Luke hold you down if I have to.”

“You always say so much, Pen, so much,” you bantered with a knowing smile.

She huffed, eyes rolling back, “And you always ruin it.”

Luke winked at you before nodding towards an approaching waiter. He held a giant cake in his hands, with lit sparklers and candles. The team broke out into song and you hid your face in your hands.

You felt warm hands on both of yours, pulling them from your space. Luke held your eyes on his, singing softly with the team. He managed to ground you, to make you feel more comfortable in this setting as the cake was put down in front of you. He tugged your hands back and forth in a little dance, drawing a grin to you face.

“Make a wish, princesa,” he pointed to the cake, holding onto one hand.

You shut your eyes, blowing hard and aiming for the candles. They went out, the sparkles fizzling to an end. Suddenly, your face went red hot and you squealed. Spencer took a big glob of frosting on his finger and smeared it all over your face.

You opened your eyes, squinting to avoid getting icing in your eyes. “Spence Reid! What the hell?!”

The team laughed, and you couldn’t help but join them. Luke’s fingers intertwined with yours, settling on your lap. He squeezed.

You took your own bit of frosting and reached across the table. Spencer tried to hide in Emily’s side, but she pushed him into your finger. He stuck his tongue out and licked a bit of frosting from his chin.

You tossed your head back, laughing the loudest you had ever. Emily called from her end of the table, “Well, now we know who our next unsub might be.”

Rossi replied, “And the victimology would be tall, skeletal, dorky men with unbrushed hair and the inability to shut up.”

“Oh, yes! Time to roast Spencer!” You closed your fist around a napkin, shaking it at the doctor. “Yes, yes, yes!”

You didn’t feel as insecure anymore- you finally felt comfortable. Luke’s hand stayed in yours as you began to wipe off your face.

JJ took her turn, “Hey, have some hope. Maybe she’ll only kidnap you.”

“How is that any better?” Spence exclaimed.

Penelope finished JJ’s thought, “Because you’ll bore her so much with your ‘actually’s’ that she’ll just drop you back off where she took you from.”

You wiped at the frosting on your house, probably just smearing it. Luke tapped your hand, holding his palm open. “Here, let me.”

You hesitantly handed him the napkin and he twisted a small section. He dipped it in a forgotten glass of water and using that part to wipe off the frosting.

“You know, I could just lick it off, like Reid, here,” Luke tapped your nose as he moved to the other side of your face.

You squeezed his hand, giggling, “In privacy.”

“Oh?” He retracted his hand, but you grabbed his wrist and pulled it back in place. “Oh, I see. I see. So I just have to get you alone.”

You swallowed, hard, a silence expanding between the two of you. His face fell slightly and he dropped his hand. You didn’t stop him.

“Are you being serious? Or is this just another banter of yours?” You muttered, hoping nobody was listening.

Luke sighed, pressing his elbow into the table and rubbing his forehead. His head hung low, but he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “You tell me.”

You squirmed under his gaze, redder than you’d ever been. Your mout hung agape and you tried to form a sentence. But, Penelope interrupted the moment. She came to your side with a butter knife and started cutting slices out of the cake for everyone.

“Here you go, my birthday queen!” Penelope set the first slice down in front of you.

You moved your hand and gaze from Luke, brandishing a fork. “Ah, I see I’ve moved up in ranks. It’s queen, now?”

“Red Queen could be your nickname, ya know, when the media flags you down for my murder,” Reid took a full plate from Penelope.

He cheekily smiled at you. “Oh, we’re still on this?”

He nodded, “We’re still on this.”

You and Spencer continued arguing about the possibility of his murder by your hand, the conversation soon turning into either of your opinions on the perfect way to actually murder someone. Sadly, the night was winding down.

But that didn’t mean Penelope didn’t have more plans. “Now, it is time for drinks and presents at Barb’s!”

The team pulled back on their coats, picking up the checks that were split and put on the table. You had just finished buttoning your jacket when you reached for your check that had been right next to your empty glass of champagne. You were surprised to see it missing. You felt around for it, but couldn’t seem to find it.

You caught up to the team, who were already paying. You grasped Penelope’s forearm and she grinned at you, “Yes, queen?”

You cracked a smile, though you were still confused. “Did you take my check?”

Penelope’s brows furrowed. “No. No I didn’t. Just see if you can get a new one.”

You sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’ll work.”

You approached the register right after Penelope, the rest of the team lingering to the side to wait for you and Reid, who was behind you. “Hi, I was sitting with the rest of them and my check seems to have gone missing.”

“What did you order?” The hostess smiled kindly. You rattled off your order and she looked through the receipts.

“Oh, here it is,” she remarked, pulling it from the pile. “Uh, yes, it’s already been paid for.”

You leaned forward, attempting to see the receipt. She turned to towards you. “Who paid for it?” You asked.

She shrugged, “I can’t give out that information. Although, I could say that it’s your birthday, and you should just appreciate the kind effort.”

You thanked her and joined your friends. They were all in their own discussions, and the group began walking out when Spencer joined. You fell in stride beside Luke, accidentally.

You looked over at him and when he felt your stare, he returned your gaze. “What?” He let out a dry chuckle.

You cleared your throat, “Did you pay for my check?”

When he didn’t respond, you knew that he was answering your question.

“You didn’t have to do that,” your fingers felt from your pockets, noticing his were swinging between your hips. You let them find each other’s again.

Luke‘s stride ended, pulling you to a stop beside him. You turned your body to him as only the tips of your fingers touched. “What?”

Luke smiled at you, “You never told me.”

“Told you what?” You were far too nervous to give him the answer he craved to hear. One night of activities couldn’t calm your introverted behavior that much.

Luke groaned, tossing his head back. He pulled your hand into his all the way. “Come on, princesa. This is exhausting.”

You breathed steadily, trying to calm the hoards of butterflies flapping through your body. “I...I’m going to tell you that I want...”

You couldn’t word it properly, which was obvious, due to the wrinkled expression on your face. “I’m going to tell you that I want...god, Luke, help me out.”

Luke’s innocent little smile twisted into a cheeky smirk. His hand moved to your hip, pressing your stomach against his. He swept the hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek.

“What did you wish for, birthday girl?”

“You.”

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

The Angel Nextdoor

Pairing: Artist!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: This is the first Tom fic I’ve ever posted and I’m a little nervous, but I’m really proud of it. I hope you guys really like it, I’d love to hear your feedback. Now, this is my Valentine’s day special, and I know what you’re thinking, “Ashley, how can you post a Valentine’s say special on February 15th? It doesn’t make any sense.”. But to that I say, you’ve just never seen this kind of innovation, I’m an artist and I have to take risks like this sometimes. I hope you can understand, love you all xx

Summary: Tom’s latest assignment might just give him the push he needs to finally confess his feelings. 

Masterlist

Promt list

//

“This is the handout for your final, we’re going to talk about it more next class, but for now just look this over and start brainstorming,” Ms. Miller passed a stack of papers down the row with a smile, “You’ll have a full month to work on it so I expect really polished pieces for this.”

Tom glanced over the requirements before settling at the prompt.

‘Paint someone close to you (friend, family member, significant other, ect…) in the style of their favorite artist or painting.’

It seemed simple enough, and he could think of a handful of people to ask. Definitely not family, he didn’t want to travel home and back that frequently. He could ask Harrison, and he was sure he would say yes, but there was one person who really stuck out in his mind. It was (y/n) of course, who better to paint than the most beautiful person in the world? And could anyone really expect an artist like him not to want to paint the object of her affection? Of course actually doing it was a different story. Asking her to let him paint her was a daunting task, one Tom was sure he couldn’t complete. So he was going to paint Harrison.

“Try to come to class with a narrowed down list of who you may end up painting, you’ll need to know for sure by Friday,” Ms. Miller sighed as the class began packing up, “I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

Tom shoved everything in his bag and went straight for the dinning hall, where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) for lunch. He debated again trying to ask her, but quickly shoved the thought from his mind. She had inspired his work before certainly, it was inevitable that she’d inspire him, or her image would wander to his mind when he was working, but he had never painted her. Of course he wanted to paint her directly, but it was intimate, it always felt wrong to do without her permission. Just asking to paint her surely would have revealed his feelings too, something he wanted to do on his own terms, when he was ready, with concrete proof that she liked him back and he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

“That’s not a happy face,” Harrison hummed as Tom sat down in front of him, “Bad grade or something?”

“No, we just got our final already,” he sighed, letting his bag fall besides him.

“Already?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she wants it to be really polished.”

“Does it seem really hard?”

“It’s nothing I can’t do, I’m gonna need your help though.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve seen me paint before right?”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Obviously not with that. I’m just supposed to paint someone close to me and I don’t want to drive home every other day so I was gonna ask if I could paint you.”

Harrison knit his brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you ask (y/n)?”

Tom flushed, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You two would get to spend a lot of time together, alone. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes, and I’d like to paint her, but it’s so intimate. I want to be the one to tell her I like her, not a painting. Plus she could say no and then I’d never be able to show my face in public again.”

“There is no way she would say no,” Harrison rolled her eyes, “Just ask her, she’d be happy to help and you might just finally see that she’s into you. Then I can stop watching you two pine over one another.”

“No, just drop it,” Tom ordered, spotting (y/n) approaching their table, “Don’t say anything to her.”

“Hey boys,” she smiled as she sat besides Tom, “How were classes?”

“Mine were fine, Tom’s already getting his finals though.”

Tom shot him a glare while she sighed, “That’s brutal, I’m sorry Tom.”

“I’ll survive,” he hummed, “It’s not anything too rough.”

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

“Just painting someone I know,” his cheeks dusted pink, “Nothing too hard.”

“Too bad I can’t help you out with it more,” Harrison bit his cheek, “Maybe (y/n) could pose for you.”

Tom decided he’d have to push Harrison out their dorm window when they got home. 

“Oh yeah, I don’t mind,” she smiled kindly to him.

“It’s okay, it’s probably going to take me awhile and I know you’re busy, I can just ask one of my brothers,” he insisted.

“And drive home every other day? That’s ridiculous, I’ll just do it.”

Tom sucked in a deep breath, trying to decide quickly what the right decision to make was. But he was a painter, he couldn’t give up the chance to paint something so perfect in good conscience, and he didn’t really want to say no either.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he smiled to her.

“No problem. So what do I need to do?”

“I’m supposed to paint you in the style of your favorite artist, or painting.”

“Well…” she tapped her lip thoughtfully, “Oh, they guy that painted those little cupids, and he did that Birth of Venus you showed me with all the cupids in it, I really liked his stuff. What was his name again?”

“William-Adolphe Bouguereau,” Tom pursed his lips, “I could do that, it’s not too far off from what I like to do anyway.”

“Cool, I guess I should start practicing my poses then?”

He chuckled, “No, we’ll just do something comfortable for you,” he bit the inside of his cheek, “There’s a bit of planning to do first, like what you’re gonna wear and the colors I’m gonna use, and sketching, I’ll just need a few days.”

“Well why don’t you come over and we can raid my closet? Maybe I can help with some of the other stuff too.”

Harrison was smiling like a proud dad when Tom glanced over at him, “Um, yeah, that would be good, I could come over after class Wednesday?”

“It’s a date.”

/

“I laid out some clothes already,” (y/n) smiled to Tom as she led him to her room, “I mean you’ll know better than me, but I tried to pick some things I thought would paint well.”

“Thanks, I was thinking something really simple would be best,” he began examining the clothes on her bed, smiling when he spotted the same white, babydoll dress she liked to wear whenever it got hot, “How about this one? It has that sort of angelic feel.”

She picked up the dress and held it against her, “It’s the comfiest too.”

He laughed, “Well that one for sure then. Next would be location, and I know you really like L'Amour et Psyché, enfants, so I thought it would be nice to have you sitting on a cloud to reference that.”

“Whatever you think is best Tom, you’re the artist,” she hummed, “I think that sounds nice though.”

“I think we’ll do that then. Do you want to toss the dress on so we can run through some poses?”

She nodded and Tom stepped outside, allowing her a moment to change. He’d thought about the painting all night, sketching out different poses and swatching colors he wanted to try. The anger he’d felt towards Harrison at lunch had faded almost instantly to excitement. He’d hung out with her a million times before, but he usually let his nerves get the best of him if things started getting flirty. Painting always relaxed him though, and he was sure that he would be able to make his feelings known once he was behind the canvas.

Of course, unbeknownst to Tom, her feelings were quite similar. Tom was handsome, of course, and funny and kind, and she got along with him better than anyone else. She had never felt the way she felt for him with anyone else, but flirting was hard. She always got nervous and backed off, there was just too much at risk. She didn’t know if Tom felt the same way, and she didn’t want to risk damaging their relationship by telling him she was into him. Of course she was happy just to help Tom for the class, but she thought it was a good chance to tread the waters.

“Ready,” (y/n) smiled as she left her room, “Where do you want me boss?”

“The couch is fine,” he was holding his sketchbook now, holding it firm against his chest, “If you could sit kind of sideways and put your arms on the back of the couch.”

She sat as he told her, glancing over her shoulder at him, “Like this?”

“That’s really nice, very reminiscent of the original…” he glanced down at his sketchbook, “Are you comfortable?”

“It’s a little awkward,” she admitted.

“Then it’s a no. How about with your hands in front of you, just resting.”

“This is better,” she smiled as she switched positions, “But if you want me the other way I don’t mind.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he assured before glancing back at the sketchbook, “Why don’t you try on your stomach, with your arms under your head.”

She giggled as she moved, kicking her legs like a child, “This is like the fifth grade slumber party position. I feel like we’re gonna play truth or dare.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to break into the modeling industry if you mess around like that.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a model or I’d be charging,” she stuck her tongue out before laying her head on her hands, “Is this right?”

“Almost, just cross your arms like this,” he set her arms in the position he wanted before stepping away again, “Are you comfy like that?”

“Yeah, I could sleep like this.”

“Good, there’s just one other pose I wanted to try. Could you roll over?”

She flipped to her back and set her hands over her stomach, “Do I look like an angel now?”

“Almost,” he moved one of his arms, extending it above her head and leaving the other over her stomach, “Perfect,” he declared, looking her over with a smile, “Very angelic.”

Her cheeks dusted pink and she bit down on her cheek, “Thanks.”

“I think this is the one,” he scribbled a few things in his sketchbook, “What do you think?”

"I could lay here all day."

“Perfect, can you stay there for a few so I can sketch you?”

She nodded, drumming her fingers along her stomach, "Did you get a better explanation of the project today?"

"Yeah, she said our grade is going to be focused on the emotion of the piece since we're painting someone close to us. She wants us to focus on portraying them how we see them."

"How are you gonna portray me then?" she blushed as she questioned him.

"An angel," he spoke without thinking, his cheeks flushing instantly, "Not with wings or anything, just sort of what I'm going for."

She was sure her face was about to catch on fire, "You don't have to do that, I mean I like the angel paintings, but you should portray me how you see me."

"I am, it just happened to fit with what you like," he tried his best to conceal his face behind his sketchbook as he spoke, "You're really sweet, and you always make everyone around you really happy, I think an angel is fitting."

“I think you’re like that,” she met his eyes, just barely peeking over the edge of his sketchbook, “You always make me happy.”

“I’m really glad I do,” he bit the inside of his cheek nervously, “I think I’ve got everything I need for today, I’ll do some thumbnailing tonight and go pick up some supplies.”

“Cool,” she sat back up, twirling some of her hair nervously, “So when do you want to start?”

“You have that essay right? Why don’t we do Saturday? I don’t want to take up a bunch of your time.”

“That’s sweet but I’m gonna procrastinate no matter what,” she giggled, “Saturday is good though, then we’d have all day to work.”

“I’ll be over at ten then,” he closed his sketchbook before shoving is back into his bag, “If you really want to procrastinate you could come to the store with me. I mean I have to make sure I can match your skin and hair and everything…”

“Well sure, but if you want even more of my very valuable time I at least expect you to buy me some tea.”

He laughed, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop for tea.”

/

Day 1

Tom was surprised by how awake (y/n) was when he arrived, she was never much of a morning person. When he showed up she had brewed some tea for them both and was already wearing the white dress they’d agreed upon. Tom had drawn about a thousand thumbnails before finally deciding on exactly what he wanted the painting to look like. He decided he’d start on it Friday night, figuring it would be good to get most of the background out of the way so he could focus on painting her while they were together. She gushed over how good the painting already looked, telling him they were the most perfect clouds she’d ever seen while he set up his work station. She was always hyping him up, he appreciated it, even though he was nervous to get started.

“You ready?” he asked finally.

She nodded, “Yeah,” she sat down, doing her best to mimic the pose she had earlier in the week, “Am I good?”

Tom nodded, “Perfect.”

“Awesome, I won’t move a muscle.”

He chuckled, “You can move. Just not too much,” he sighed, picking up his palette and taking one more moment to stare at his canvas, “Okay, time to start.”

(y/n) watched him quietly at first, watching the cute way he stuck out his tongue when he concentrated. She had never seen him paint, the occasional sketch sure, but with painting she’d only even seen finished pieces. They were always amazing, but she felt like getting to see the work in progress was something special. Most people never got to meet someone as passionate or as talented as Tom, let alone get to be the subject of their work.

“Do you mind if I draw the curtains?” Tom broke her trance.

“It’s your painting.”

He laughed, “No, I mean open them. Why on earth would I add a window to a painting of you in the sky?”

“I don’t know how your artist brain works, maybe you think clouds have windows,” she laughed in response, “Go ahead, I thought you wouldn’t want the lighting changing all day.”

“Well I’m going to paint the light source where I want it to be,” he explained as he stood, “But I want to make sure I’m painting you how you’d look in more natural light. Maybe angels have windows, but I’m nearly certain they don’t have iridescent light bulbs.”

“You seriously think heaven has fluorescent lighting?”

“I think they use the sun,” he deadpanned, though a smirk tempted the corners of his mouth, “You can turn on the tv or something.”

“That’s okay, I like watching you.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “Why? I’m just staring at a canvas.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s something you're passionate about, it’s cute watching you get in the zone.”

“Oh,” he blushed and turned his attention back to his work, “Thanks. I’ll be more talkative once I get a little further along, I just really like to concentrate in the beginning.”

“It’s fine,” she assured again, “I’m not bored Tom, I don’t mind a bit of quiet time.”

“Okay.” 

Truthfully he didn’t mind it either, at least when he was with her. He just liked being in the same room together, even if they were just studying or watching a movie, it was nice to just be together. 

/

Day 2

“Would you mind if I came over after class tomorrow?” Tom questioned, breaking (y/n)’s attention from the tv.

“That’s fine by me,” she smiled to him, “It’s not like I usually have plans with anyone else on a Monday afternoon.”

“Yeah, no one else can stand you,” he chuckled while she feigned offense.

“You know I could be charging you for this? I’m doing this for free out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You think I have money? I’m a starving artist darling, free is all I can afford.”

“You better be nice then,” she teased with a smile.

“I’m cooking you lunch aren’t I?” he sighed before setting his paints down, “Speaking of which, I think I’m ready for a lunch break.”

“Me too,” she rubbed her stomach, “Break time?”

He nodded, “Yeah, you still want pasta?”

“You know I do,” she winked as she stood up, stretching her arms up above her head, “Can I peak?”

He nodded, “It still doesn’t look like much, but I’m making good progress.”

She bounced over to the painting, smiling ear to ear as she took in all he had done, “It looks more and more amazing every time I see it. This is amazing Tom, seriously it looks so good already.”

He smiled, blushing at the praise, “Thanks, I think it’s coming along really well.”

/

Day 3

Tom was making much quicker progress than he had expected, he just found it very easy to find his rhythm every time they sat down to work. Part of it was her, part of it was the subject matter, also her. He was pretty sure all the hours he’d previously spent staring at her had something to do with it too. So far he was proud of his work, though he was sure it wouldn’t have been possible for a painting of her to look bad anyway. When he sat down to paint her he didn’t have to think about it much, just paint, it came very natural. It just felt naturally to immortalize someone like her, but the talking helped the most. Normally he painted alone and he’d wear himself out or hit some kind of wall and be forced to stop, but he hadn’t had that problem since working with her. It was like his hands moved on their own while he just hung out with his best friend. It was just easy...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you stay so clean when you paint?”

“I figured it out around the same time I stopped fingerpainting.”

She laughed, “Okay well when I try to paint I still get at least some paint on my hands and arms and stuff, you never get paint anywhere.”

“This is the third time you’ve seen me paint, I’ve gotten messy plenty of times but I’m trying really hard not to get paint all over your house.”

“Have you ever painted a girl?” she giggled, “Her body I mean, like gotten naked and painted on each other?”

He flushed suddenly, “No, have you?”

“No, but it would be fun wouldn’t it?”

“It would be cold,” he pursed his lips, he was well hidden by the canvas, so he had a lot more confidence in his ability to be cheeky, “We can take a break if you want to try it out.”

She went quiet for a moment, Tom thought he might have to throw himself out of her window but when he looked at her her cheeks were just as red, and she decided to press on, “What would you paint?”

“Depends where I’m painting.”

She bit her bottom lip, a playful smile overtaking her despite her pink cheeks, “Well I would paint a grid and play tic tac toe on your abs.”

She burst into laughter at her own awful joke and Tom did his best to fight off his own laughter, “That was not funny.”

“Yes it was that’s hilarious!” she kept laughing, clenching her stomach and rolling onto her side, only to find there was no room and roll onto the floor with a thud, “Ow.”

Tom started laughing, “You deserve that for making such a shit joke.”

“Fuck off,” she groaned.

/

Day 4

“Do you ever get lonely living here all alone?” Tom knit his brow as he tried to perfect her nose.

She nodded, “Sometimes, but I don’t really want a roommate you know? I need a boyfriend or something so I can just call him over when I decide I want someone to spend the night.”

“You could call me,” Tom didn’t dare peek out from behind the canvas after that comment, “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to spend the night sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we could even build a pillow fort and play truth or dare.”

She laughed lightly, “Well who could pass up an offer like that?”

/

Day 5

Rather than painting the whole night, Tom and (y/n) had decided to get some studying done, putting them at a much later start when they eventually did get to the painting. (y/n) seemed tired, and Tom had told her they could skip the night, especially since he was making such good progress already, but she had insisted she was fine. So they started working, and (y/n) watched tv, half away while Tom started working. The painting was coming along amazing, and Tom had planned to just get some of the more tedious, detailing work done and let her get to bed, but of course once he actually started working it was a different story. He had quickly gotten wrapped up in his work, not stopping until the noise of the tv stopped, the screen flashing to ask if anyone was still watching. 

“Sorry, I was just getting in the zone I-” Tom stopped mid sentence, spotting her already passed out on the couch. Her head was tossed to the side and one of her arms hung off the couch. The sight was endearing, but Tom felt bad about not noticing, “Oh dear,” he set his pallet down and stood up, flicking the tv off before approaching her, “Well come on darling, let’s get you to bed,” he nudged her lightly, “(y/n), time to wake up.”

She stirred slightly, a small groan leaving her lips before her eyes peaked open, “Tommy?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips, “I would have carried you, but you’ve got to lock up behind me.”

She yawned, “Sorry, I’ll stay awake Tom, you can keep working.”

“You’re exhausted sweetheart, you need to get some sleep,” he smiled, setting a hand on her cheek carefully, “I got a lot done today anyway, promise.”

“Okay,” she yawned again before taking his hand, “I’ll help you clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it, why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

She nodded again, pushing herself up sleepily and padding off to her bedroom. Tom smiled to himself while he cleaned up, thinking about how nice it would have been to carry her off and tuck her in, or better yet fall asleep besides her. He could only hope he’d get there one day, if he could ever force out his feelings. It was seeming more and more possible everyday. Just as he’d suspected, hiding behind the canvas had made it much easier to flip the conversation to something flirty, and much to his delight, she didn’t seem to mind, if anything she flirted back.

“Looks good,” (y/n) hummed as she glanced over the painting, “Tomorrow we should be able to start early.”

“Thank you, honestly at this rate I’ll only need a few more days.”

“That’s awesome Tommy, I can’t wait to see it all done.”

“Me too,” he tossed an arm over her shoulder with a smile, “Come see me out.”

“I am, I am,” she smiled as he led her to the door, “Drive safe.”

“I will, get some sleep darling,” he kissed the top of her head before heading for the car.

/

Day 6

The doorbell made Tom jump, and nearly swipe a black line through one of her eyes, “Fucking hell,” he swore under his breath,

She giggles, “It’s just the pizza Tom,” she jumped off the couch, heading straight for the door, “Which means stop working busy bee we’ve got a pizza to devour!”

He pushed himself up with a sigh, “I’m in the homestretch here, I just need to push through.”

“No, you need to nourish your body and keep your mind sharp,” she winked to him as she opened the door accepting the pizza with a quick thank you.

“Smells delicious,” he plucked the box from her arms, “I think I’ll pretty much finish up tonight, but I’ll want to really polish it tomorrow when I’ve got fresh eyes. And I probably won’t want to stop once I’ve got started so eat and pee before I get here.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute or you wouldn’t get away with bossing people around like that,” she passed him a plate before tossing open the box.

“I know,” he winked to her, dishing them both a slice, “You know I probably only need another hour or so tonight, so we could watch a movie or something while we eat, then I could finish up after.”

A swarm of butterflies fluttered around her stomach, almost making it impossible for her to answer, “That sounds nice Tom, you definitely deserve to relax.”

“We both do,” he grabbed her remote as he fell down on the couch.

“I’ve been laying on the couch, relaxing is currently all I know.”

“Nah, I’m sure it gets tiring sitting there looking pretty all day,” he sucked in a sharp breath when she sat down, pressed right against his side.

“It does,” she nodded in agreement, “Alright, you pick for us alright?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t pay much attention to what he was picking, he was much more concerned with their proximity. They’d watched plenty of movies and tv shows together during their friendship, but they never sat so close. It gave Tom a lot of confidence, since she’d opted to sit besides him, he took it as a sign that his flirting was landing. So after they finished eating he decided he should also initiate something and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Without even thinking she had laid her head on his shoulder, it just felt natural. Tom pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and turned his attention to the tv.

/

Day 7

Tom stood up, stepping back a few feet to examine his work. He did it fairly frequently so (y/n) didn’t think anything of it and turned right back to the tv, until Tom spoke.

“It’s perfect, I’m done,” he declared with a small smile.

(y/n) raised a brow, “Seriously?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I have to seal it and everything, but the actual painting is done. I’ll turn it in on Monday.”

“Don’t you have a few more weeks?” she asked as she stood.

He nodded, “I don’t need them, I’m finished, it’s gorgeous, I don’t need to do anything else.”

“Well can I see?”

“Of course!” he grabbed her shoulders, quickly pulling her to face the work, “What do you think?”

She went wide eyed, taken back by how good he’d made her look. It was strange, seeing herself in a painting. It was done well of course, and it looked just like her, but better somehow. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, maybe the background or the romantic theme of the painting, but she just looked better. She looked like an angel, perched on a bed of pink and blue swirling clouds, reminiscent of the paintings she likes, but distinctly Tom’s work.

“Wow,” she turned to him with a big smile, “Tom it’s incredible, I don’t know how you made me look like that.”

“That’s just what you look like.”

She shook her head, “It’s better somehow, like the perfect version of me or something. You did incredible.”

“No,” he shook his head, “That’s just you, but thank you. I’m really proud of this, I think it’s one of my best.”

She blushed, “Yeah, you’re gonna get a killer grade.”

He hadn’t thought much about the grave, the assignment had taken a back seat to just painting her, “Yeah, I hope so,” he grabbed her upper arms and smiled down at her, “You’re incredible you know that? Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “You don’t have to thank me, I had fun.”

“Me too,” his eyes caught her lips for just a moment, soft and supple and more than kissable, “I, uh, we should do something to celebrate, dinner or something.”

“That would be fun too,” she tucked some hair behind her ear, leaning towards him just slightly.

He found himself leaning in too, but as much as he wanted to kiss her, something just wouldn’t let him. He kissed her forehead and backed away awkwardly, “I, uh, need to pack everything up, I have to get the sealant on pretty quick and I left it at home so…” 

The sealant was in his bag, but he felt like running away suddenly, his nerves truly getting the best of him.

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment but she nodded, ‘Y-Yeah, no problem, I’ll help you pack up.”

/

“Wait so let me get this straight, all this flirting and pining, you chickened out on the kiss?” Harrison’s jaw fell open in disbelief. 

Tom nodded, hiding his head against his arms, “Yes, and I nearly died the first time so let's not talk about it now.”

“Dude,” he gaped, “Are you kidding me? All you had to do was pucker up!”

“I know!” Tom groaned, “I know, I don’t even know what happened, I just froze up. I mean what if I misread it? She probably didn’t want me to kiss her, in fact I know she didn’t.”

“You said she leaned in first!”

“I thought she did but I’m stupid! There’s no way she was trying to kiss me.” “It literally could not be more obvious that you two like each other so I don’t want to hear it. You need to just call her up and tell her you froze up and ask her out.”

“I can’t, I will literally drop dead.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Then I’ll do it.”

“Dude no! I’m not ten, I can’t send you to ask a girl out for me, that’s a guaranteed no at this point.”

“Then just tell her,” Harrison groaned, “Before I lose it, please.”

/

Tom was coming to terms with the fact that he was going to die alone by Wednesday morning. It was hard to accept, but easier to accept than almost kissing his dream girl and chickening out, so the choice had been easy. But apparently the universe had other plans for him, as Ms. Miller decided to pull him aside after class.

“I want to talk about your final,” she placed his painting on an easel.

He blushed, “You don’t like it?”

She shook her head, “No, no, Tom this is incredible. I was going to suggest that you enter it into the National Galleries up and coming contest.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, “Yeah, this is amazing, it would be a shame if the world didn’t see it,” she chuckled lightly, “And I’m sure it would get you some brownie points with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he spoke softly, pretending to cough to try and hide his words, “Just my friend.”

“You painted just a friend like this?”

He nodded.

“And remind me of the title.”

“The Angel Nextdoor.”

“Do you call all your friends angel?”

“Uh no, just her,” he bit his lip while she raised a brow at him, “She doesn’t know I’m into her.”

Ms. Miller glanced at the painting with a hum, “Has she seen the painting?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she was there the whole time.”

“I think she knows.”

He began to blush again, “Really?”

She nodded, “I could tell just from looking at it that you must really love this girl, I’m sure she can tell too,” she smiled and leaned back on her desk, “Anyways, I just wanted to let you know about the competition, I’ll have your marks soon.”

He nodded, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, think about it.”

He scrambled out of class quickly, wondering if maybe he didn’t have to die alone. Maybe he could confess, and maybe (y/n) who had gushed to him about the painting he’d poured all his love into, would reciprocate. Maybe she had leaned in to try and kiss him, and maybe, just maybe, she really did like him back. Instead of stopping at the dining hall where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) he paced right past it, towards (y/n)’s class, trying to hype himself up the whole way. 

(y/n) had spent the past few days with her mind full of questions. She had leaned in, hoping Tom would get the hint and they would kiss. It seemed to be going that way but then he stopped. Tom had seemed flirty while he was painting her, and she tried her best to show her own interest. He had even held her while they watched a movie, but then he didn’t kiss her. He just kissed her on the forehead and left. She was worried she had misread everything, and almost certain she had. She was anxious about seeing him for the first time since the almost kiss, worried things would be tense or weird. So she was quite worried when she spotted him outside of her class, worried he was about to tell her to never bring up the incident and forget anything happened.

“Hey,” she smiled to him, “What are you doing here?” “I came to talk to you,” he blushed a bit, “Uh, Ms. Miller really likes my painting, she thought I should enter it in this competition for up and comers.”

“Really? Tom that’s awesome, congrats!”

He nodded, “Yeah, thanks, I thought it was really cool too, but she said she thought it was good because she could really see my emotions.”

“Also awesome, you’re gonna ace that class.”

“Okay, but, um…” he trailed off for a minute, unsure of how to force the words out, “The emotion was love, that she saw I mean. She said she could tell I really loved you, a-and I know you know that I do love you, but I love you way more than any of my other friends, and it’s different too… I mean I know I’m like a struggling artist, and that’s not the most desirable thing, and I’m not this perfect, beautiful person like you are, but I do love you, and I love you so much it’s overwhelming sometimes. The best thing I’ve ever painted is you because I love you so much, romantically.”

She stood totally frozen, with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open, making Tom’s heart pound nervously against his chest. He thought he might black out but she moved suddenly, grabbing him by the neck and kissing him hard. Her lips were plump and soft and so much better than he could have imagined. He grabbed her waist, leaning into her with a smile.

“I love you too,” she smiled as she pulled away, “I think you’re perfect and I am totally crazy about you.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded excitedly, “Of course! How could I not? You’re incredibly talented and you're funny and your kind, Tom you’re amazing, of course I am so totally in love with you.”

He smiled and sealed their lips again, “Maybe we could go on a date sometime then?”

She nodded again, “Of course, but I’ve got one condition.”

“Anything.”

“There has to be more kissing.”

He laughed before pecking her lips again, “I think I can handle that.”

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift Part 6 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: It's Saturday, your dickhead boyfriend is out of town, an old friend is in town, and it's time to get drunk!

Warnings: Drinking, mention of drug use, crippling self doubt

W/C: 4.3k

Spotify

Part 1 Part 7

Somehow, the week went exceptionally well. You bugged Frankie each day for the photo he promised you, and each time he grinned and told you that good things came to those who waited. On Wednesday you received a call from the vet telling you the kitten was going to be fine, and she would be put up for adoption when she was old enough. You were initially crushed that the kitten wasn’t going to be yours, but told yourself it was good she was bound to go to a good to a family. You couldn’t give the kind of life a cat deserved.

But most of all, you were almost unreasonably excited for the weekend. You bounced with excitement every time you thought about it - hell, even things with Kurt seemed to be going better. He had planned a hunting trip up north with a few of his friends, and would be gone from Thursday til Monday. He had brought you a bunch of flowers when he ‘broke the news’, not your favourite kind but it was the thought that counted. An entire four days to yourself was more than enough incentive for you to almost force him out the door on Thursday afternoon. With a kiss and a packed lunch and a promise to call, he was gone and the apartment was blessedly empty.

Even better, your best friend Sara was in town.

Fifteen minutes after you watched Kurt’s car pull out of the apartments parking lot, watching the window carefully to make sure he didn’t come back, you called her.

“Can we do something on Saturday? Get drunk, do bad things, anything?” You said by way of greeting.

“Oh hell fucking yes, I’ve been waiting for you to be fun again!” Sara said. You knew that was a not so subtle jab at how much you had changed since Kurt entered your life. You ignored it, like you usually did.

“Saturday sound good to you? I work Friday night and I can’t take it off.” More like you didn’t want to take it off.

“Saturday sounds fantastic. There’s a big fight night happening, and I wanna watch some hot sweaty guys pummel each other.” Sara said. “We can get drunk at the same time. Also I can get some molly if you want.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, not entirely opposed to the idea of spending the night high as shit. Especially if Kurt wasn’t going to be there to yell at you for it.

“Let me know, sooner rather than later so I can sort it out with my guy,” Sara said. “Anyway babe, I’ve gotta jet, I’ve only got five minutes left on my break and I haven’t eaten yet, love ya!”

“Love you too,” you said, meaning it with your whole heart. Out of all the friends you once had, Sara was the only one who had stuck around after you started dating Kurt. At first, you had choked it up to jealousy, convincing yourself all your other friends were envious of your perfect relationship with a perfect guy. Now looking back, you could see what really happened: you had ditched them. Completely and utterly. Kurt had taken up all of your time, convincing you to stay in when you had plans to go out, telling you that the girls you would have trusted your life with only barely put up with you and it was just so obvious to anyone with an outsider's perspective that they didn’t really like you. You were grateful for Sara, more than words could say.

~*~

Saturday came quickly, and before you knew it, Sara was slamming her fist on your door, a bag stuffed with alcohol slung over her shoulder.

“Bitch!” she screamed in greeting when you finally opened the door, still wrapped in your towel from your shower. She was already dressed, in a tight gold 70s style jumpsuit that made her dark brown skin look like it was glowing from the inside out.

“How do you manage to look so good all the time?” You said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Witchcraft,” Sara said, pulling a bottle of prosecco out of her bag and popping it open. “And like, this whole thing took me all day. Why aren’t you ready yet?”

“I’ve been sleeping all day,” you said, plucking the bottle out of Sara’s hand and taking a swig. It was cold and crisp and filled your partly empty stomach. You continued to take small sips as you got ready, occasionally asking Sara for her girly wisdom on what to wear. She picked out your outfit as you applied makeup. It felt almost foreign, using something other than a mascara and brow pencil. The use of colour and shimmers almost felt like breaking some unwritten rule you had created for yourself since dating Kurt.

“What happened to all your fun clothes?” Sara whined, going through your wardrobe. You shrugged, carefully applying bronzer. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Sometimes things just went missing - you didn’t really question it anymore.

“I’m a miracle worker.” Sara declared after almost fifteen minutes of searching. You looked up at her, then at the small bundle of clothing in her arms. She grinned and flung the pile at you. You held up a black pleather skirt that you hadn’t worn in almost a year, and a black body suit that dipped low in the chest.

“Christ,” you muttered.

“What’s wrong with it,” Sara sounded exasperated, like she had been expecting this from you.

“It’s just-” you hesitated. “I’m not going out to get dick, you know? What’s wrong with a pair of jeans?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong with a pair of jeans? I’ll tell you what: everything. You don’t have to have dick as the aim of the night to look cute. You can look cute for yourself. You know just as well as I do that skirt makes your legs and ass look amazing, especially when paired with the shoes I’ve brought for you. Plus, if someone out tonight decides you look cute enough to buy you drinks, then even better! Because free drinks! You don’t have to fuck them as a thank you, you can just turn around and walk away. So, get dressed and stop complaining.”

You considered Sara’s words for a moment. She was right. After you changed, you admired yourself in the mirror. Your ass really did look amazing, and the strappy black heels that Sara had loaned you accentuated your calves magnificently. Sara stood next to you, arm linked through yours, almost a foot taller in her platforms and with her afro teased to the high heavens.

“God, we’re sexy,” she murmured, taking another swig out of the bottle. “You’re absolutely wasted on Kurt.”

You didn’t bother with your usual retorts to that kind of comment. She’s wrong, you’re lucky to have someone to love you like that at all, no one else would want to if they got to know you, you told yourself. It’s what he had told you over and over again, the words searing themselves inside your brain to repeat each time you began to truly doubt with him.

You finished off the prosecco while you waited for the Uber to arrive, enjoying the warm buzz it left you with. Sara whipped out her phone and began to take photos of the two of you. At first, you shied away from the camera, the words Kurt had said once in a throwaway comment, surely not designed to hurt but did anyway, rang in your ears. You don’t look very good in photos, why do you take so many? After that, you would spend hours staring at old photos of yourself, the flaws that were invisible now glaringly obvious.

Tonight though . . . Tonight you felt pretty. You posed for the camera, following Sara’s instructions as best you could. You took photos of each other throughout the entire ride to the venue where the fight night was taking place.

It looked a little shabby on the outside, overgrown hedges snaked up the walls, covering the windows. A smoking area was off to the side, crowded with people. The inside was even more crowded, with bodies pushing up against the horseshoe shaped bar and surrounding the ring. Two women were in the ring, both bloodied and swinging.

“God there is just something so arousing about hot people consensually beating each other up,” Sara said, unable to tear her eyes away from the ring.

“Babe, you’re drooling,” you joked, stepping in line for the bar.

“I can’t help it, I have an overactive salivary gland,” Sara sighed, tearing her eyes away. “At least my dentist says so.” You grinned at her and ordered three vodka sodas each. It was a tradition with the two of you that you would always order three drinks at a time. Less back and forth, you had reasoned. Although, usually as the night progressed, three drinks were downed in the same amount of time it took to drink one, so it really cancelled itself out in the end.

As tradition warranted, you and Sara cheersed and swallowed your first drink in one breath.

Several more fights occurred, the divisions eventually changing from women’s to men’s. Neither you nor Sara paid much attention to the first few fights: “amateur hour” Sara had said to you “I’m waiting for the good stuff.”

The good stuff, it turned out, started almost an hour and 5 drinks after you arrived.

“Next fight, King V Miller!” The announcer shouted into the microphone to the cheer of the crowd. Sara’s head shot up as if she could sense the sudden change, and she grabbed your hand, tugging you closer to the ring.

“Oh, my god look at him,” Sara said, gesturing to the ring. You knew instantly which one she was talking about. He was tall, with shaggy blonde hair and lean muscle corded over his body.

“He’s pretty spry,” you said, and instantly cringed. Spry? Really?

“I wanna fuck him tonight,” Sara said. Then her voice took on a determined edge. “I am going to fuck him tonight.” Manifestation, Sara called it. If you told the universe what you wanted, the universe would deliver.

Apparently.

“I am going to get more drinks,” you told her. She nodded, not tearing her eyes away from the fighter. You went to the considerably less crowded bar- it seemed like everyone was now watching the fights- and leant against its sticky surface.

You shouted your order over the noise of the crowd, and scanned the bar as you waited. Most faces were familiar in the way that you knew when you had seen someone before, but you didn’t know when or where. That was, until you landed on one dazzlingly familiar face, standing almost right next to you.

“Frankie?”

~*~

Frankie startled at the sound of his name. He looked around, expecting to see one of the boys or maybe an old work friend from the mechanics. The last person he expected was you. But there you stood, looking so good that he was momentarily lost for words.

“Frankie!” You said again, with a huge grin on your face this time.

“Hey!” He grinned back, “what’s a girl like you doing in a dump like this?” His tone held a flirty edge, one he wouldn’t dare have used if he hadn’t already had several bourbon and colas.

“Oh you know, I plan on accosting the winner tonight of all their prize money and taking off into the night, never to be heard from again,” you accepted three drinks from the bartender as you spoke. “What about you?”

“My friend Benny is fighting tonight. He’s actually up right now, the blonde one.”

Your jaw dropped. “No way! My friend wants to fuck your friend.” You pointed your chin towards a tall black woman, dressed like she had wandered out of Studio 54. “Is he single? Can we play wingpeople?”

“He is, we can.” Frankie nodded confidently. Maybe it was the alcohol controlling his brain, but any excuse to spend time with you seemed like a good excuse. “How should we do this?”

“Does your friend Billy-”

“Benny.”

“Benny stick around after the fights?”

“Yeah, he gets free drinks,” Frankie said. You nodded approvingly, taking a sip of one of your own drinks. Frankie watched amazed as you somehow held the two others in one hand, your fingers curling around the hard plastic cups.

“How do you do that?” He asked.

“Do what?”

“Hold your stuff like that,” he gestured to your fingers. You looked down, confused.

“Whatta’ya mean?”

“With your fingers.”

“Oh! Um, I dunno, I just do.” You shrugged and placed the now empty up on a random table, and started on the next drink. It occurred to Frankie that you were well on your way to being very, very drunk.

The crowd cheered loudly as Benny knocked out the other guy with a bloody grin. Frankie whistled his support and Benny caught his eye, saluting tiredly. Santi also caught his attention, and even across the room Frankie could see the wicked grin form on his face. Frankie looked away quickly, not willing to give the bastard any ideas.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Frankie asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Some stupid place doing some stupid hunting,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Fuck him anyway he never lets me do anything fun.”

“What do you mean ‘lets you’?” Frankie said, his brow furrowing.

“I mean, he’s a controlling dickhead!” You said, then slapped a hand over your mouth. “Don’t tell him I just said that! Please!”

“I won’t, I promise,” Frankie said.

“Just forget I said anything,” your voice had taken on an almost desperate edge.

“It’s forgotten,” Frankie lied. He didn’t know how, but he was going to bring it up later. The idea of your boyfriend ‘not letting’ you do something had taken root in his brain, and somehow it made him furious. He took a deep breath, counting slowly to calm himself down.

“Who’s that guy who keeps making faces at you?” You asked, gesturing across the bar. Frankie sighed.

“Santi.” Frankie rolled his eyes at his old friend and waved him over. His curly hair friend bounded over, flashing you with a brilliant white smile.

“Well, hello there,” he said, winking at you. “Santiago Garcia, but you can call me whatever you like.”

You smiled sheepishly and gave him your name, “I work with Frankie.” Santiago’s grin widened at this piece of information, and Frankie groaned internally.

“You’re the girl Frankie told me about.”

“Chatting shit, I’m sure,” you laughed, but Frankie didn’t miss the questioning glance you sent his way when you spoke.

“Santiago was the one who took that photo I told you about,” Frankie said quickly, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. You nodded and leant over towards Santi.

“He keeps promising to show me but he’s yet to deliver,” you said, winking at Frankie. His stomach jumped, breath caught in his throat. He knew you were joking but he couldn’t help but feel like he had disappointed you somehow.

“That’s my fault,” Santi said, “I keep meaning to get him a copy but since he’s sleeping all day I haven’t been able to.” You nodded and turned to Frankie.

“I should go find my Sara before I lose her for the night,” you said, looking at Frankie. “Come find me - I mean, us later? With your Benny?”

“Yeah, of course,” Frankie said, watching as you disappeared into the crowd. The urge to grab you and kiss you grew with every second, but he restrained himself. He wasn’t that kind of guy, and no amount of drinks would make him think it would be a good idea to do that to someone. Let alone you.

~*~

Frankie’s head was cloudy with alcohol, he couldn’t stop thinking about how good your ass looked in that tiny skirt, how he wanted to plant his face directly in your chest.

“Fucking hell, get a grip,” Santiago said, shaking his friend by the shoulder. They were back in the locker rooms, Benny was buzzing with his win. He and Will were going their post match ritual of smacking each other on the back and releasing loud “woo”’s.

“I’m fine,” Frankie insisted, and Santi scoffed.

“You’re full of shit,” he said. “Ironhead, tell this idiot he’s full of shit!”

“You’re full of shit, Fish!” Will said automatically. “But what’s he full of shit for?”

“He’s in denial about pining for the chick he works with,” Santi said. “Look at the poor bastard, it’s written on his face.”

“Fish, you’ve never been good at keeping a straight face when it comes to emotional crap,” Benny said. “All other stuff, you’re great. Just not when it comes to matters of the heart. Or the dick.”

“You should’ve seen the way he was looking at her,” Santi laughed. “And the way she was looking at him, making bedroom eyes at each other.”

Frankie rolled his eyes, ignoring how the last comment made his heart leap. “You’re all stupid, she’s just a work friend saying hi. Nothing more.”

“Full of shit!” Benny cackles. “Look at his blush!” Frankie groaned. They were right about him at least. He had it bad for you.

But that didn’t matter. You had a boyfriend, and even if everything Frankie found out about the guy made him resent him a little more, he couldn’t change that one important fact. And he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin the beginings of his friendship with you over a stupid fucking crush. He just wasn’t.

Benny showered, singing You Belong With Me and switching out the pronouns as he did. The man was an unashamed Swiftie, claiming that she had a song for every situation. Frankie pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep swig of his beer. Will sat beside him and nudged him gently.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked.

Frankie frowned. “What? I’m not gonna ‘do’ anything. She has a boyfriend, end of story.”

“Sorry to hear that man,” Will said, sounding sincere. He knew Frankie wasn’t the type of guy to wreck someone else's relationship for purely selfish reasons. “You’re a good man.”

Frankie wished he wasn’t.

Benny changed into his regular clothes quickly, and said something about needing a drink. The four of them left the locker room and made their way to the bar, and Frankie couldn’t help but look around for you. When he couldn’t see you, he bit back the slight disappointment that sank in his stomach. Benny brought a round for the group and they found an empty table to sit at. The employees of the bar were dismantling the ring to make room for a dance floor. Loud, thumping music started playing and within moments the floor was packed with bodies.

“Frankie! And Frankie’s friends!” Frankie looked around at the sound of your voice, which was high with excitement. You bounded over, clutching the hand of the friend you had pointed out earlier. You introduced yourself and your friend Sara to the group and pulled up a chair for you and Sara each. Frankie didn’t miss how you placed Sara’s chair next to Benny, or how Benny was staring at Sara with his mouth slightly open. He also noticed with a slight pang how you sat yourself between Will and Santi, directly across from him.

What he didn’t was how much you kept looking at him. Lucky for him, Santi and Will noticed plenty.

You and Sara spent a few hours with the group, until a not so inconspicuous Benny and Sara both disappeared, Sara throwing a wink towards you as she left. Will left not long after, saying that his bed was calling his name. Santi stayed a little longer, flirting with you much to Frankie’s annoyance. To his credit, he didn’t show you the catfish photo. Frankie wanted to show you that one himself, when you were both sober.

“I better head out,” Santi said as it rolled past three in the morning. “I’ve gotta babysit Lee tomorrow, and you know how hyper he is.” He turned to you and kissed your hand. “It was the deepest pleasure meeting you, don’t be a stranger. Frankie.” Santi raised an eyebrow and shot him a meaningful look.

“Good night,” he said a little forcefully, shoving Santi towards the door, mainly to get him to stop flirting with you. He knew the flirting was just incentive to spur him into some kind of action with you, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Your friends are nice,” you said, struggling to connect the straw of your drink with your mouth.

“They’re assholes most of the time. They’re just nice to beautiful women.” Frankie regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Shit! Now she thinks I think she’s beautiful. She is! But she doesn’t need to know I think that! Frankie finished off his drink to avoid looking at you.

“I’m attractive til they get to know me,” you said with a snort.

“What makes you think that?” Frankie asked, confused as to how that could work.

“I don’t think,” you said, “I know. It’s a fact. One that cannot be argued.”

Frankie was about to argue with you about this when you turned away, stumbling as you did. She’s super fucking drunk, Frankie thought, grabbing your arms to steady you. Your skin was so much softer than he anticipated, sending a jolt through him. He let go quickly, mouth going dry as you beamed up at him.

“You saved me!” You declared, then finished your drink quickly, emitting a small burp. “To thank you, I must give you a token of my gratitude. I know! A drink! Three drinks for the kind sir! And three for me!”

“Jesus, how much have you had?” Frankie asked, laughing.

“Only a little bit,” you shrugged and thought for a moment. “Maybe like, a dozen vodka sodas and some shots and also half a bottle of prosecco. And also a teeny tiny bit of molly, but that was hours ago, so it’s basically gone.”

“Maybe I should walk you home,” Frankie suggested gently, amazed that you were still upright let alone getting served. You shrugged.

“I can just get an Uber or something, it’s fine.”

“No, no, don’t waste your money, let me walk you.”

You looked up at him with slightly unfocused eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

The cold air outside hit the both of you like a wall. Stars scattered across a moonless sky, leaving Frankie wonderstruck for a moment, until he noticed the goosebumps on your arms. Without a second thought, Frankie took off his jacket and placed it gently around your shoulders. You looked up at him, a surprised look on your face.

“Frankie, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, I have this friend, right? And she’s been dating this guy for years now. They live together, no kids or anything. But she told me a little while ago that she’s been feeling . . . trapped.”

“Trapped?”

“Yeah. Like, she doesn’t think she loves her boyfriend anymore. At least, not in a way that she should. And he’s so mean to her, too. He doesn’t hit her or anything, but he’s also not super nice to her, and-and she doesn’t always know what she did to deserve it. She doesn’t know what to do.”

“Can she leave?” Frankie suspected you weren't talking about a friend, but he didn’t press beyond what you were willing to tell him.

“Not easily, I don’t think. She doesn’t have enough money for her own place and- and she’s afraid.” Your face flushed.

“What’s she afraid of?”

“Being alone. Unloved. She doesn’t have any family or anything and her boyfriend is the closest she has to that. So um, if she was your friend, what would you say to her?”

Frankie was thoughtful for several moments. He didn’t want to fuck this up. If his suspicions were correct, you were talking about yourself. “Well, first of all I would tell her that her boyfriend is a massive dick, even if he doesn’t hit her, boyfriends shouldn’t make their girlfriends feel like shit. I would tell her to talk to her friends, ask for their help. I would also tell her that being alone doesn’t have to mean lonely, and it certainly doesn’t mean that she’s going to be unloved.”

You nodded thoughtfully at this. Frankie took this as a good sign. “She can’t know for sure what her life will be like, but my guess is that it will be better if she chooses to leave this asshole.”

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. Frankie knew you were thinking about what he said. He too, was lost in thought. Trying to figure out a plan to help you in any way he could. All too soon, you arrived at your apartment building.

“Thanks for this,” you said, taking off the jacket and handing it to him. Frankie nodded.

“You needed it more than me,” he said simply. “I’ll see you at lunch tomorrow?”

You nodded, and then as if you weren’t entirely sure if what you were about to do was a good idea, you wrapped your arms around him. Frankie stiffened for a moment before hugging you back, holding you to him tightly, breathing in your scent of perfume, sweat, and alcohol. You were warm and soft and everything in him was screaming don’t let go.

“Thank you,” you whispered in his ear, and he knew you weren’t talking about the jacket.

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