#this is long and rambly I don’t even know if I answered the question sorry

[thedarkone121]

I have a question about the Anne-Marie fic

Does she know that hyde and jekyll are the same person aka does she know that hyde is also her father?

Cus it's been bugging me for ages and I just couldn't figure it out :3

Ah, someone has finally asked the question I’ve been dying to answer. Sorry if I’m about to ramble-dump on here 🤣

Long story short, yes. She knows Hyde and Jekyll are the same person. Well, I say she knows it’s more of a she figured it out 2 months before Jasper came into the picture.

The longer version is this; Anne-Marie — once she got over her shock of suddenly seeing a man she never met in her home — pretty quickly clocked onto the fact that Hyde looked familiar. This was before she lost her sight, by the way. Like she noticed he looked similar to her father. Hyde, realizing that she could easily figure out the connection between him and Jekyll, immediately began to avoid her after that. For that first year, Hyde was able to avoid her like he avoided Lanyon and Anne-Marie was left to stew with the fact her father’s new assistant looked similar to him.

Then the Chemical Accident came around and Hyde, out of concern and guilt, decided to check on Anne-Marie while she was recovering.

Now, for a long time, Anne-Marie didn’t think much of Hyde. To her, he was her father’s awfully brash assistant who kept getting her angry by calling her Annie, something only her father was allowed to do. In fact, a lot of the early days of Hyde-Hunting was Anne-Marie genuinely being angry at him for calling her Annie.

But as the days went on, Anne-Marie began to notice things.

Like how Hyde would always place her back in her room once she’s tired out from chasing him. How he would sometimes slip into a Scottish accent if she surprised hit him. Or how when he does call her Annie, it’s more of him not thinking twice about it and not actually to antagonize her.

For a good while, Anne-Marie thought Hyde was like a long-lost relative of her father’s because of her memory him closely resembling her father. It’s why she was super against the rumors of the two sleeping together, even though Hyde tries to play it off like that. But then she started to notice other things…

Stuff like how Hyde would talk to himself, like he’s talking to her father when he’s not in the room. How her father would do the same even though Hyde is also not in the room. How at one point, when Anne-Marie slammed a piano lid onto Hyde’s hand and injuring him, her father had the same injury when she touched his bandaged hand.

But the biggest thing that confirmed it for her? It was when she took her glasses off with him the room.

Hyde had a meltdown. He begged, pleaded, screamed at her to put her glasses back on. Anne-Marie, not used to hearing Hyde like that, immediately put her glasses back on. Hyde took a few minutes to calm down. Then he moved on like nothing had happened.

But Anne-Marie didn’t move on. She realized that Hyde didn’t want to see her scars. Even when she commented on this, Hyde’s careless words finally hit her.

“Well, it’s not my fault you stood close to a sizzling potion made by sham of a scientist who didn’t sleep properly that day.”

How did Hyde knew that? The story she told everyone was that she was alone in her father’s lab, how she became curious with his things and started to mess around. That’s what cause the explosion, according to Anne-Marie.

How did Hyde knew the truth? There was no way her father would tell someone like his bad-mouthed assistant.

Then, it clicked for her. Hyde was her father, in some way. Hadn’t her father talked about splitting souls at some point? And looking back on it now, of course Hyde’s very bad impression of a theater villain would be her father’s idea of evil.

Anne-Marie figured it out. But she never told Jekyll and Hyde that she figured it out. Since the two kept the secret, then Anne-Marie figured she could keep it as well.

Anne-Marie knew. But Jekyll and Hyde don’t realize that she knows.

[just-jordie-things]

fuck it, i love you - okkotsu yuuta

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 11k warnings: none really. reader likes lemon oreos bcuz i projected onto this <3 summary: (y/n) and yuuta get to know each other better over the phone while he's on assignment in africa. feelings ensue. more info: long distance friends to lovers, yuuta got that romance dawg in him

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[ and you know everyone adores you // you can’t feel it and you’re tired // baby, wish that you would hold me or just say that you were mine // but it’s killing me slowly ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first time he gets a call from her, Yuuta is a little perplexed before he answers the phone.  Of the few people he might’ve expected a phone call from, (y/n’s) was the last name he expected to see on his screen.  Nonetheless, he answered it right away.

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Okkotsu,” Her voice was so cheerful, he could’ve easily believed that she meant to call someone else.  But she’d said his name, so it couldn’t have been a mistake.  “How’s Morocco?”

“Morocco, is….” He trails off, fingers tapping a poor rhythm on the table in front of him.  Doing paperwork in a hotel room wasn’t ideal.  The desk provided was always small, and the chair always uncomfortable.  But it wasn’t like he had a lot to report anyways.  “It’s alright, I guess” 

“Alright, you guess?” She repeats curiously.  “Sounds like you’re bored already” 

“Bored-? N-no, no I’m not bored,” He stammered over his words, and (y/n) could be heard laughing through the line.  “I’m just, um, I’m trying to do a report right now” He said sheepishly.

Trying being the key word.  He’d practically given up ten minutes before he got her call anyways.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” (y/n) apologized right away.  “Am I keeping you? Should I go?” 

“N-no!” Yuuta squeaked, cringing at himself as he slumped back into his hair, covering his face with his hand as if there was anyone else around to hide his embarrassment from.  “No, you’re not keeping me, I… I have nothing for this report anyways” He explained.

“Really? Not goin’ so well?” She asked.

“Uh- it’s just- I don’t want to bore you with it,” He sighed.  “Anyways, what’s the call for? Isn’t it like…” He glances behind him at the analog clock on his bedside table, wincing when he sees how late it was.  “Three in the morning, your time?” 

“Actually, it’s only two forty-five,” She corrects with a clear smile in her tone.  “And aren’t I allowed to check in? You’ve been gone, for like, weeks” 

“Y-yeah, you’re allowed,” He mumbles back, face feeling hot.  “I just figured, y’know, you’re… busy” 

“Never too busy,” She half-jokes.  “So tell me all about it, boring parts and all” 

Yuuta’s brows pinch together, a small scoff leaving his throat.

“Really?” He’s unsure as to why she’d want to hear about the ins and outs of a trip that so far had proven to be pointless.  “You sure you want to hear about it?” 

“Course,” She hums back.  “Beats studying” 

So he complies.  There’s not much to tell, but he finds a way to walk her through what his day-to-day with Miguel was like.  Looking for more of the Black Rope.  She seemed to have some interest in the cursed tool, asking excitedly if it could stop the cursed techniques of even the strongest special grade sorcerers.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point,” He chuckles.  “But it’s been slow.  I’m starting to think this is going to take longer than we thought…” 

(y/n’s) a good listener.  She lets him ramble on even when he’s not making sense, and continues to prod and ask more questions when she comes up with them.  He thinks maybe she’s just stalling to keep her from studying, but he figures there were countless other things she could’ve done to keep her occupied… right? 

It’s not until Yuuta notices the clock and remembers the time difference between them that he finally stops his rambling and suggests they end their call soon.

“Ah- it’s late, and I’m probably boring you now, too” He lets out a light hearted chuckle that she can’t help but reciprocate.

“I guess I should try to study just a little” She huffs.

Yuuta scoffs, a small smile on his face as he picks up his pen and stares at the half-finished report in front of him.  Maybe he’d been stalling, too.

“Or you could just go to bed, cram last minute tomorrow” He suggests.

She seems amused by that, and when she lets out a little laugh he thinks it’s the right choice, too.  The noise comes out lazily, full of sleepiness.  It’s obvious even through the phone.  Yuuta wonders if she’s hunched over her desk, ignoring the textbook and notes right in front of her.

“You’re pr’lly right,” She murmurs, her tiredness even more evident in her voice.  “I guess I’ll go to bed then” 

“Okay,” Yuuta drums the pen against his thigh in an erratic beat.  Something about saying goodnight makes him feel a little disappointed.  

Until now, he hadn’t realized that it had been weeks since he’d casually talked to a friend.  Toge texted plenty, and sometimes he heard from Panda and Maki, too.  But this felt… different.

“Well, goodnight-” 

“And Okkotsu?” She interrupts him without realizing, quickly apologizing before she continues her thought.  “You didn’t bore me, just for the record.  I think it’s neat that you get to be on such a special assignment.  I hope that it gets more exciting for you” 

He’s thankful that she didn’t opt to facetime him, because his face grows so warm he just knows he’s turned into a tomato.  And something about sitting in his lonely little hotel room and blushing over such a simple comment is downright embarrassing.

He laughs nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt to relieve the heat on his neck.

“Uh, yeah, me too,” He stammered quietly.  “Thanks.  Good luck with studying” 

She hums.

“Goodnight, Okkotsu.  Thanks for keeping me company” 

The call ends there, and Yuuta smiles to himself as he sets his phone down and finds the energy to finish up his pointless report.

Talking with her had been nice.  Maybe they hadn’t become the closest of friends between him enrolling at Jujutsu Tech and being shipped off to Africa, but he thinks that could- and should- change.

He’d have to make more of an effort to get closer to her while he was away.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When (y/n) calls again, it’s not so late this time.

Yuuta had just settled in the hotel lobby with his burrito for lunch, his only plan for the time being was to scroll aimlessly on his phone while he ate.  To his luck, just as he sat down on the stiff cushioned chair in the lobby, his phone rang.

“Okkotsu!” 

It had been a little over a week since their last call, and Yuuta had done his best to keep in touch with her since then.  A few photos of the wildlife native to the area that she seemed to enjoy, or a pretty sunrise here or there.  There were a lot of messages sent to her first thing in the morning, beautiful photos tagged with his complaints of being up so early.  It was the easiest time to use his phone, and he’d tried to make a habit of at least messaging her once a day.

To his delight, she always sent him a response.  It wasn’t always right away, with an eight hour time difference that was a steep ask, but she never failed to let him know that she saw his message and appreciated it somehow.  Whether it was an emoji reaction or a full text, she never left a text from him unanswered.  Strangely, Yuuta found this to be thoughtful of her.

“I’m cooking, can you believe it!?” She sounds excited, but the kind of excited that seems like something very wrong is about to happen.

“O-oh?” He stutters, chucking as he tucks his phone between his ear and shoulder so he could unwrap his burrito.  “What, are you not allowed, or something?” 

“Hush, I don’t let anyone tell me what to do,” She laughs at his comment, not realizing he wasn’t joking.  “I just haven’t cooked for myself properly since moving away from home.  The kitchen here is puny, though,” She mutters the last part.

The muffled sounds coming through the speaker sound as though she’s rummaging around the cabinets.  Yuuta tilts his phone away from his ear a little, the dishware clanking together more unpleasant than usual coming through a phone.

“But I thought it’d be nice to make a home cooked dinner.  I was going to make some for everyone, but I guess they already ate.  So it’s dinner for one tonight,” She explains.  Yuuta’s chest sinks with disappointment at the thought of missing quality time with his friends.  “Anyways, what’re you up to?” 

“Eating a burrito,” He replies dryly.  “What are you making? I’d much rather have that” 

“Don’t speak too soon, it’s been a while since I’ve been in a kitchen,” 

(y/n) laughs, and Yuuta does too.

“Just ramen,” She answers.  “Figured it’s best to start out simple.  Also figured I couldn’t set anything on fire” 

“Depends on how you look at it.  Setting something on fire while only cooking ramen might be an accomplishment, with how difficult it must be” 

He doesn’t mean to be funny, but (y/n’s) laughing again, and Yuuta smiles through a mouthful of burrito for saying something clever enough.  Pride swells in his chest the longer he hears her laughter turn to muted giggles while she’s pittering about the kitchen.

“You’re eating, should I let you go?” She asks once her laughter has calmed down.

“No, it’s alright,” Yuuta shakes his head even though he knows she can’t see.  “I’m bored anyways.  I was just going to sit here by myself and eat this burrito” 

She laughs again, lightly this time.

“Alright, then, want me to tell you about how hard Maki kicked my ass in training yesterday?” She offers.

He’d already had an inkling, recalling a harshly worded text from her followed by a photo of her left leg covered in blue and purple marks that were bound to grow dark soon.  He’d cringed when he’d seen it, giving the image a frowning emoji reaction before responding with, ‘Maki?’.  But he happily agrees to have her tell him the rest of the story behind the bruises.

He deems (y/n) and Maki to hold a far closer friendship than he did himself, so he knew that the next five minutes of ranting on her part is in good nature and she was only annoyed with losing, not necessarily with Maki herself.  That said, as someone who had dealt with the torture of training with her, Yuuta understood the feeling quite well.  He laughs when she talks about being thrown to the ground like a ragdoll, and he winces when she tells him about the absolute beatdown she’d taken.

It’s a gruesome retelling, even though at times she talks as if it was as casual a part of her day as brushing her teeth had been.  The life of a jujutsu sorcerer was always an unorthodox one.

“She didn’t even try to go easy on me, Okkotsu.  But, she did get me an ice cream sandwich with my ice pack, so she’s still my best friend, I guess” She’s only teasing, evident in the way she giggles.

“Yuuta” He says without thinking, having happened to swallow the last of his food and finally getting a chance to speak.

“Hm- what?” 

“You can just call me Yuuta” He clarifies, eyes darting around the lobby to be sure no one could see him blushing.  

His voice grows quieter as he suddenly feels bashful in the public setting.  None of the people passing in and out of the space pay him a second glance, and it doesn’t dawn on him that they might not even understand his language, but his body language says enough.  He’s tucked into the corner chair, hunched over and holding the phone as close to his face as possible so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice too much.  Not to mention, his face was turning a rosy shade of pink.

“Alright, Yuuta,” (y/n) muses, testing the waters to see how his name sounded.  It felt foreign, and it had the color in Yuuta’s face darkening even faster, but she seemed amused by the change.  “Ramen’s coming along pretty well, I think it’ll actually be edible!” 

She’s quick to move on from the semi-serious topic.  He’s relieved for this, and does his best to come across as casual as possible.  He asks her about the recipe, and she talks to him for a while about her process until the conversation somehow turns back on him and he’s updating her about Morocco.

Time passes so easily, Yuuta barely realizes that he’s been sitting in the lobby for an hour, not thinking about how she had finished her dinner and eaten it too.  (y/n) never mentions the time either, unknown to him, sitting on the counter in the common room’s kitchenette as she talks aimlessly about anything and everything she can think of.  Yuuta enjoys hearing about it all, the shenanigans that she’s been up to with Toge, the odd style of teaching that Gojo has, even just the simple things, like how yesterday it had rained.

There’s something magical about being on the phone with her, he realizes halfway into hearing about how she’d gone outside to help the worms back into the grass after the rainfall.  Not only does he lose time, but there’s not a dull moment.  Most of his days had become so bland and boring they’d started to blend together.  Besides the occasional sword training, he’d spent the majority of his time wandering about with Miguel.  It was starting to feel aimless, with every passing day that they came up empty handed.

Talking with her was everything but boring, never boring.  It finally felt like he had some company to get him through this assignment.  He hoped that this second call meant they could make more of a habit out of it.

“I should probably go so I can clean up the kitchen,” She sighs when she finally suggests getting off the phone.  It’s then, and only then, that Yuuta checks the time, quickly pulling his phone away to tap the screen before putting it up to his ear again.  “I think it’d be obnoxious for me to stay on the phone while I do the dishes” She adds with a chuckle.

His heart spikes at the idea of her wanting to keep talking, though.

“Y-yeah, that might be too loud,” He replies.  “But that’s okay, I should probably get some training in, or something, anyways” 

“Gotta keep up that Special Grade status,” (y/n) teases.  He’s grateful she can’t see him fluster every time she teases him, no matter how lighthearted it is.  He’s not sure why it sends him into a mini panic every time, but he hopes he gets a hang of himself soon, if they’re going to keep talking like this.  “Talk soon, though?” 

He’d really have to learn to get a hold of himself.  The short question has him beaming and nodding his head wildly, although the only people to see it are the hotel staff at the check-in desk who’d been peeking glances at the weird talkative boy on his phone for the last two hours.

Yuuta clears his throat before speaking, hoping to sound as normal as possible.

“Yeah, yeah we can talk again soon”

He’s not sure how well he does.

“Okay, cool,” The smile is evident in her tone, and in turn has Yuuta smiling too.  “Talk to you later then, Yuuta” 

Maybe he was just hopeless, but hearing his name again has him blushing and fidgeting in his seat.

“Bye, (y/n)” 

Even once the call has ended and his phone is sitting lifeless in his lap, with the rush of adrenaline Yuuta gets, one might think he’d just received the best news of his life.  Funnily enough, he hadn’t received much news at all- besides the fact that the worms on Jujutsu Tech Tokyo’s property were safe and accounted for after a life threatening sprinkle- so his giddiness was solely brought on by talking with her.

Slowly but surely, she was becoming his favorite person to talk to.

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[y/n]: need ur help, it’s urgent [y/n]: ok woah i should not have said it like that

[yuuta]: ??? are you ok???

[y/n]: need u to help me win a bet

[yuuta]: ._. [yuuta]: ok.

[y/n]: vanilla oreos suck, right? 

[yuuta]: this was urgent? 

[y/n]: panda said they’re his favorite flavor.

[yuuta]: oh god. [yuuta]: he needs a wellness check for sure.

[y/n]: THANK YOU  [y/n]: toge said his fav were the birthday cake ones but the vanilla weren’t bad. he’s still got the taste of a toddler, but at least they’re not his FAVORITE i mean cmon.  vanilla is just bad. [y/n]: i knew you’d understand me.

[yuuta]: ur right this was urgent.  i thought i knew them. [yuuta]: what are your favorite?

[y/n]: obviously i told them original.

[yuuta]: … implying they’re not actually your favorite? 

[y/n]: you’re asking very personal questions, yuuta

[yuuta]: lmfao [yuuta]: i’ll tell u mine if u tell me urs :)

[y/n]: u first i’m shy :)

[yuuta]: original are good.  but i like the toffee ones best 

[y/n]: interesting.

[yuuta]: so am i getting judged for my oreo preference, too? 

[y/n]: lol no.  ur safe.  for now ;)

[yuuta]: well we had a deal.  what’s ur fav?

[y/n]: … i like the lemon ones

[yuuta]: :o [yuuta]: don’t those come with a VANILLA cookie???

[y/n]: … [y/n]: maybe.

[yuuta]: ur ridiculous

[y/n]: but the lemon flavor makes it different.  it’s not PLAIN vanilla.

[yuuta]: can’t argue with u there

[y/n]: ya bcuz u wouldn’t dare :)

[yuuta]: no i wouldn’t :) 

[y/n]: mwahaha i have the big scary special grade afraid of me :)

[yuuta]: idk about big.  and the scary is all rika

[y/n]: does she have a take on the great oreo flavor debate? &lt;3

[yuuta]: … [yuuta]: she always preferred animal crackers.

[y/n]: &lt;;/3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Yuuta finally works up the courage to call her first, it’s been a couple weeks.

Which in hindsight, it feels like too much time has passed.  Even though they’ve been texting every single day nearly nonstop.  Yuuta had grown so attached to his phone it was almost becoming a problem.

Not that he’d admit it.

“Okkotsu Yuuta!” She picks up the phone with the same eagerness she’d held the last time she’d called him.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I was bored, and was hoping you had something interesting going on,” He sighed, falling backwards on the perfectly made bed in his room.  Too perfect.  It was always annoying to tug the covers out of their tightly tucked corners to comfortably sleep at night.  “All I’ve been doing is train and I’m exhausted” He grumbles.

(y/n) hums through the speaker.

“Well if you’re that bored, I suppose I could tell you about a boy conflict of mine,” She suggests.

Just as Yuuta was starting to relax into the mattress, he felt his spine go stiff as a chill shot from his tailbone all the way up to his neck.  It feels like his entire body has been drenched in icy water, freezing him solid.

“It’s okay if that’s too… weird, though” He’s drawn back to reality by (y/n’s) nervous laugh, something he doesn’t hear all that often.  It’s strained and awkward, displaying every bit of anxious emotion that she felt.  

“It’s not weird,” Yuuta’s not usually very good at lying, people always have a way of seeing right through him.  He wonders if he’s only decent at telling this one because she’s not physically here.  She can’t see the way his face contorts as it tries to stay neutral, or how his fingers start to tap against the comforter beneath him.  “Boy conflict is… normal” He adds.

He’d meant that one, but she laughs anyway.

“I guess so,” She sighs through the speaker.  “But I’ve never really had any before.  Not like you get to meet a lot of people.  But… I guess I met someone..?”

Yuuta’s gut twists, and he wonders if he ate something bad with his lunch.  Maybe the chicken was undercooked? No, it seemed fine.  He probably just ate too fast.

“That feels less like conflict and more like interest” His jaw feels tight when he talks.  With his free hand, he rubs at it and tries to keep his teeth from clenching.

“Well, I am interested,” 

Distantly, Yuuta thinks he should swallow some tums before he goes to bed so this stomach ache won’t keep him up all night.

“At least, I think I am,” (y/n) sighs again.  “He’s not a sorcerer, I met him at a corner store I went to with Maki,” She explains.  “He was cute and all, I guess we had a moment over the energy drinks? It’s kind of a blur, I didn’t really pay attention until he was handing me his number and now I have this number and- I don’t know.  Is that weird?” 

Yuuta’s not really sure what to tell her.  He’s not really sure how he feels about it.  His gut tells him that yes, it is weird, and she shouldn’t be going out with some guy she met at a convenience store.  Anyone can walk into one of those, he thinks bitterly, his brow furrowed as he thought over her dilemma.

“Well, um, did he seem… nice?” 

The question comes out pathetic.  Yuuta’s smacking his hand over his face from how stupid he sounds, and feels.  

“Yeah, I guess” (y/n) answers anyways.

“Then I guess ball’s in your court?” The suggestion comes out more as a question than he means it to.  Yuuta thinks he wasn’t equipped for this, and maybe he should have told her it was a weird thing for them to talk about.

But he wouldn’t have meant that.  He would talk to her about anything, and he wanted her to feel the same.  He wanted her to talk about anything and everything she wanted.  Lord knows he’d take an interest in it. 

However the interest he has in this conversation isn’t quite like normal.  His curiosity is less genuine.  It feels like it’s lurching around in his mind, something disappointed yet irritable growing in it’s place.  He hates the feeling.  He hates feeling that way towards her.  Even if it wasn’t directed at her specifically.

“You’re right,” There’s more determination in her voice now.  “I should just text him, right?”

No, Yuuta’s jaw is clenched again, teeth grinding loudly.  He hopes she can’t hear it through the phone.  No, don’t let some stranger have your number.  He doesn’t deserve it like I do.

“Right!” His voice is louder than he means to, as if trying to overpower the jealous train of thought that runs through his mind.

He’s sitting upright on the bed in a second, still rigid and uncomfortable, but his anxiety makes him want to pace.  He needs to work off the awkward feeling in his chest somehow.

“Then I can see what he’s like,” (y/n) speaks as though she’s really telling herself what made the most sense.  Yuuta’s nodding wordlessly, his eyes fixated on a spot on the floor that’s growing more blurry by the second.  “And then if I like him… maybe we can go out or something” She mumbles the last part, clearly distracted.  

He wonders if she’s texting him now.  The idea of her reaching out to this random guy while she’s on the phone with him sends his heart plummeting to his already upset stomach.

Where were all of these nasty feelings coming from? 

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea” Yuuta’s speaking, but it feels distant, he’s not exactly sure of what he’s saying.

“Alright.  I’ll text him later, then,” 

He’s relieved that she wasn’t doing it this very moment, but there was still an unsettling pit in his stomach knowing she was bound to reach out at some point.

“Thanks, Yuuta.  So, what’s been going on with you?” 

It takes a while of chatting and pacing the room before Yuuta feels like himself again.  He’s lucky there wasn’t a circle burned in the shape of his track in the tightly coiled carpeting of his room, certainly he would’ve had to call Gojo for a favor if he was billed for such damage.

Eventually the nasty feeling in his chest settles and he’s sitting in the bed again, the notebook he was drafting up today’s report on propped on his legs and his phone at his side, (y/n’s) voice on speaker as she tells him about the rest of her and Maki’s outing in the shopping district.

As it always does, time goes by too quickly, and soon enough she’s yawning through the speaker and telling him it was getting too late for her.

“But thanks for calling, Yuuta.  I was starting to think you didn’t know phones worked both ways” She teases softly.

Had she been waiting for him to call? 

“Yeah, anytime.  I just… you know the time difference… I don’t ever want to bother you” 

“You? Bother me?” She giggles.  “After you let me talk your ear off about a boy, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here,” She tells him.

The nasty feeling swells again.

“Besides, you could never bother me,” She adds, her tone much softer.  Almost sweet.  Yuuta can’t tell if his stomach is convulsing or doing flips.  “But call again sometime, m’kay?” 

“Okay,” He says, hopeful, and just as eager as he felt.  “G’night, (y/n)” 

“Bye Yuuta, goodnight!” 

His phone lights up with the low battery icon once the call is over.  He’s slow to plug the charger into it and leave it on his nightstand for the evening, his mind still mulling over everything she’d told him.  Or more so, how he’d felt taking in all that information.

He couldn’t have possibly been jealous, right? Not over some random guy.  Not because of her.  They were friends, after all.  Friends that didn’t even get that close until after he left.  In his time at Jujutsu Tech he’d only spoken to her a handful of times, and mostly in passing.  It wouldn’t feel right to have something like jealousy spark up now.  No, he was probably just worried for her, seeing as he couldn’t look out for her when he’s thousands of miles away.  Yeah, that was it.

It couldn’t have anything to do with the way he felt his world light up when she laughed.  Or that getting a text message from her in the sound effect that he’d picked out just for her contact had serotonin spiking in his brain.  

None of those things were connected at all.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The fourth time they talk on the phone, unfortunately, he has to hear about this guy again.

Yuuta’s not even sure he knows his name.  He thinks (y/n) must’ve mentioned it once or twice in their texts, but it’s never quite stuck, and honestly, Yuuta doesn’t want to ask.

Not that he cares- it wasn’t like that at all.  It had simply been too long for it to feel appropriate to ask.  He didn’t want her to think he didn’t listen, is all.

He’d called one evening when yet again he felt like putting off writing up his report.  It had almost become a habit to reach out to her as soon as he was stalling, or bored.  He didn’t have much to talk about, he never really did, but he had been eager to tell her about some new cuisine he’d tried that he’d thought she might like. 

There was a pesky thought in the back of his mind about her visiting him for a few days.  Only pesky due to how often it presented itself, even when he should’ve been focused on more pressing matters.  He knew it was bad when Miguel had taken notice and smacked him upside the head to get him to pay attention- on this earth, preferably, he’d said.

But he couldn’t help it.  The idea of having her here, for a few days or a few weeks, had become his go-to daydream.  He already knew everything he’d want to show her, the busy, colorful markets and the good food Yuuta hadn’t known existed until coming here.  To how pretty the beaches were at sunset, especially when the little hermit crabs would wake up and wander around the shore, he thinks she’d like that a lot.

Even just the idea of having her around to hang out with and chat about anything and nothing, just like how they do through their phones, had his chest buzzing with warmth and excitement.  Even though it was all in his head and logic told him she probably couldn’t make such a trip.  She had her own assignments and lessons after all, and technically he was supposed to be working.

Nonetheless, when he found himself getting bored, his mind drifted off to pretending she was there with him to keep him company.  Sometimes it even did the trick.

Tonight when he calls her, he’s kicking around the idea of bringing it up.  Maybe if she took it well enough he could reach out to Gojo about it, surely he had the social standing and the funds to let her visit.  His heart is thrumming in his chest just thinking about it, every ring of the dial tone putting him further on the edge of his seat.

It rings a total of five times before she finally answers.  It’s not all that late in Tokyo, just half past nine, but suddenly Yuuta worries that this wasn’t a good time to call.

“Hey,” He’s the first to speak, grinning from ear to ear when the line finally clicks and she’s answered the call.  “Is this a bad time?” 

“Uh, n-no,” She stutters back, voice quiet and a little raspier than usual.  Had she been sleeping? She speaks before he can double check if it was an okay time to talk.  “I’m not doing anything.  What’s up?” 

Yuuta can’t quite put his finger on it, but it certainly sounds like it’s a bad time.  Her voice is lacking it’s usual mirth, and she sounds like she’s purposefully trying not to raise her voice.  His smile begins to fall as his brain starts to stir with worry.

“Nothing, really.  Just… wanted to talk, I guess,” It feels a little embarrassing to admit, but for once, she’s not teasing him.  It’s strange, not hearing her softly poke fun at him when he’d clearly given her an opening to do so.  “What’re you doing?” 

“It’s almost ten here, I’m in bed” 

The words almost come out cold, a bitterness to them that Yuuta wasn’t used to.  If it weren’t for the crack in her voice, he might’ve thought she was upset with him.  But there’s a noticeable little hitch in the middle of her words that tells him it’s not annoyance he’s picking up on.

“Hey,” His voice is quiet as he sits on his bed, brows furrowing as he feels the mood shift even in a room thousands of miles away from hers.  “Is something wrong?” 

“No” Comes her instant answer, but it’s not remotely believable.  Her voice is so quiet and muffled it barely comes through the speaker, and shortly after he hears a shuffling that sounds like a heap of blankets being tossed around.

“C’mon, wanna talk about it?” He pressed again, dragging his finger over the crisp comforter on the bed to create misshapen invisible designs.  “What happened, (y/n)?” He asks again, voice softer than before.

The tiniest of sniffles could be heard, and his heart sinks at the idea of her sitting alone in bed and crying.  Whatever caused it he was sure he could find a way to solve it.  It wasn’t often that Yuuta felt cocky with his Special Grade status, but in this moment he was sure he was the most powerful person in the world, and if something had bothered her this much, he’d certainly be able to take care of it.

“It’s- it’s stupid,” The high pitch in the cracking of her voice was more evident the louder she spoke.  He’s worried she was going to leave it at that, maybe tell him to leave her alone or hang up altogether.  Then he hears a wobbly inhale before she’s whimpering through her words again.  “I’m so stupid, Yuuta, what was I thinking?”

His heart cracks with every word she speaks.  He’s not sure what put her in such pain, but he swears, he’s experiencing it too just knowing she was hurting.  He places his free hand over his chest to ease the hollow feeling that carves itself there.

“What d’ya mean? You’re not stupid, not remotely.  C’mon, y’know that,” He tries to keep his voice light and gentle, even though the growing put in his stomach had his throat closing up.  “What happened? Talk to me” He pleads softly.

(y/n) sniffles, before trying to even out her breathing again so she didn’t sound so pathetic when she talked.

“I don’t even want to tell you, it’s so stupid,” She admits.  “B-but everyone else is busy, o-or gone and I- I don’t want to cry about it anymore,” 

Had she been crying for a while? His heart seizes at the thought.

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?” She mumbles.  Yuuta nodded his head rapidly in response.

“Yeah, yeah of course I promise.  I won’t laugh at you” He tells her with grave sincerity.

She sighs, breath still shaky, but she does her best to talk through it.

In a wobbly, quiet voice, she tells him everything.  About how she had plans to meet up with convenience-store-guy that Yuuta still hadn’t caught the name of.  How she’d taken plenty of time to plan out her outfit and put herself together, how in the meantime he’d been nothing short of flirtatious and sweet, leading her to believe he’d been eager to go out with her.  She tells him how an hour before they were set to meet up a block away from campus, she’d stopped hearing from him altogether.  She laughs humorlessly as she explains she’d sent nearly ten messages asking where he was or if he needed to reschedule before she’d dropped it completely and walked herself back home.

“No text, no call.  Absolutely n-nothing,” She mutters bitterly.  “But I don’t g-get it, did I do something wr-wrong?” 

“Of course not,” Yuuta sighed, trying to release the tension of his building irritation so he could keep his focus on comforting her.  “He’s just… he’s stupid, okay? I don’t know what his deal is, but you dodged a bullet, for sure.  If that’s how he acts before a first date, imagine how terrible he would’ve been by the twentieth” 

Surprisingly, he’s not terrible when it comes to consoling her.  (y/n) hums tiredly in agreement.  It doesn’t necessarily take the pain away, but there is some relief in knowing it never would have worked out.

“Yeah,” She breathes out.  “But… I was excited, you know?” She mumbles.  “I’ve never been on a real date before, at least I don’t think I have, but I think I’d know,” She explains.  “I just… I thought I’d feel normal for a night.  I- I thought he liked me.  I kinda liked him, too.  But mostly I…” She trails off, and they both remain silent for a few beats, each processing their own mess of thoughts.  “I liked the idea of being liked, I guess.  Is that selfish?”

“Of course not,” Yuuta chuckles warmly.  “Everyone wants that.  It’s completely normal,” He says.  “Besides, it’s not like you were imagining things.  He did have an interest.  Who wouldn’t?” 

The last part comes out before he can realize what he’s actually saying, and his face grows hot with the insinuation of his words.  He’s stammering to fix it, which doesn’t help him much, but he tries.

“W-what I mean is that there will be plenty of other people who will meet you and fall for you completely and y-you’ll be swarmed with phone numbers and people who like you!” 

He doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but his nerves are starting to take over as the word vomit continues.  (y/n’s) quiet as she listens intently, and the longer she doesn’t speak up to stop him, the worse his rambling becomes.

“You’ll have to fight ‘em all off, you know? There’s so many people out there who haven’t been lucky enough to meet you yet, and when they do you’ll get to experience everything you want.  You know what?”

There’s a soft ‘what?’ from her end before he continues on his rant.

“It’s a good thing your first date wasn’t with that prick anyways.  It wouldn’t have been fair.  It wouldn’t have been right at all if your first date was boring or shitty or- or anything short of special and electric, okay?” 

(y/n) still doesn’t say anything, but she’s hanging onto every word he says, even when they’re rushed and he’s stumbling over them, all of her focus is on what he’s saying.

“Because you deserve it.  And anyone who is remotely worth your time will know that.  And they’ll- they’ll text you too much before you finally go out, because they’ll be nervous because you make them nervous because you’ll be so out of their league, you know?” He doesn’t even pause before continuing.  “And they’ll pick you up on time if not early because they’ll respect your time, and they’ll have flowers- the prettiest, most expensive bouquet they could find- right? A bouquet even Gojo couldn’t afford,” 

She lets out a watery laugh that has Yuuta easing up in his rambling, a warm feeling planting in his chest in the hopes she’d smiled, even just a little bit, even if it was through her tears, he’d provoked just a little bit of joy from her.

“And… and if you’re anything short of completely swept away, then you’ll call Maki and she’ll come get you so you don’t have to spend another second wasting your time with a loser that doesn’t deserve you” 

His chest is heaving a bit when he finally stops, not realizing he was losing his breath the longer he rambled on.  His face feels hot as he processes everything he’d just dumped on her, and he prays that it wasn’t as pathetic as he’s worrying it was.

There’s a few small sniffles before (y/n) speaks up.

“Well, if you were back home, I’d just call you,” She says softly.  Her voice doesn’t sound as strained as before, and Yuuta hopes it means she’d stopped crying.  “You really think I’ll be able to find all that?” 

“Yeah, ‘course I do,” He mumbles back, although his words hold absolute certainty.  “Not a doubt in my mind” 

She giggles, a real little laugh that he can almost see.  It’s short and sweet and it has him elated that he’d lightened her mood.  He’s not sure what exactly he did, but he’s grateful that the word vomit was beneficial for once.

“Thank you, Yuuta,” She murmurs.  “You’re right, and, I actually feel a little better,” 

His heart soars, and he’s smiling to himself again with pride and relief.

“I’m still going to watch Pride and Prejudice before bed, though.  I’d already committed to it and I can’t just go to sleep now” She tells him seriously.  Yuuta laughs, falling back on his bed as comfortably as he could with his feet still planted on the ground.

“I’ve never seen it,” He tells her.  “But don’t stay up too-” 

“Never?” She interrupts with a gasp of shock.  “Yuuta, that’s criminal” 

He chuckles again.  “Is it really?” 

“Yes, very much so,” She tells him.  “When you’re back we have to watch it, okay?” 

“Yeah, sure-” 

“No, promise” She demanded for the second time that night.

“I promise,” He repeats, smiling to himself as his gaze wanders the ceiling.  

He couldn’t help but think that if she were to visit him, they could spend a whole afternoon here in this room watching her movie, probably eating snacks and making a mess of the place as they got cozy for it.  This room had always remained perfectly tidy, so much so it was almost boring.  Having her in it would surely brighten it up and give it some life, he thinks.

“We’ll watch it as soon as I’m back” He tells her.

“Okay.  Good.  You were on thin ice for a second, you know” She murmurs sleepily.  He can hear her yawning.

“Was I?” He muses.  “Is that what it takes to get you to hang up on me?” 

“Are you suggesting I wouldn’t?” She quips back, and he’s glad that her teasing nature has come around again.

“I’m suggesting you never have before” Yuuta shrugs.  His fingers are pressed firmly against the back of his phone, keeping it close to his ear so he couldn’t miss the way she laughed at him.

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re just good company,” She hums.  “But it is late and I want to watch this movie, so I guess there’s a first for everything” 

His face is warm and he feels full, like he’d just eaten a good meal, despite him having skipped lunch in order to call her.  Yuuta smiles lazily at the blank ceiling as he hums back to her.

“Alright, enjoy your movie,” He says.  “But, uh, you can call me again.  Y’know, if you… need to.  Or want to” 

There’s a pause before she responds.

“Okay,” It comes out in a hushed whisper.  “Have a good rest of your day, Yuuta” 

The time difference has his lips pinching into a frown, but he quickly tries to hold onto the last few seconds of joy he has while talking to her.

“Goodnight, (y/n)”

The call ends, and he drops his phone to the mattress, letting it sit forgotten beside his head.  He stays put in his semi-comfortable position, still staring at the ceiling as his hands fall to his sides.  His chest felt tight, and his mind a little dazed as he replayed the call over and over in his mind.  The hurt he’d felt when she was hurting, the relief he’d felt when she was happy.  It was overwhelming, the way his own emotions were thrown through the wringer depending on hers.

His heart was hammering in his chest so hard, Yuuta knew he couldn’t deny his feelings any longer.

He was falling for her.  Fast, and hard.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[yuuta]: [attachment]: one image [yuuta]: i think you’d like these little guys

[y/n]: :D a hermit crab!!! [y/n]: so cute! can’t believe ur holding it, i’d be scared of getting pinched

[yuuta]: i’m special grade, i’m not scared of anything :)

[y/n]: getting real comfy with throwing that title around, huh? you must think so low of me, a mere second grade.  i could never amount to the *mighty* okkotsu yuuta.

[yuuta]: lol shut up it’s just a crab

[y/n]: he is super cute.  his name is yuu now :)

[yuuta]: bcuz u miss me so much? :)

[y/n]: bcuz he’s small and feisty.  that little claw looks ready to attack :>

[yuuta]: ok i’ll admit he did pinch me once. [yuuta]: but in his defense i did pick him up and i am a big scary human

[y/n]: lmfao [y/n]: i thought we just established ur small and feisty

[yuuta]: i don’t think i like being called small 

[y/n]: tiny  [y/n]: smol [y/n]: just a baby

[yuuta]: are we still talking abt the crab?? 

[y/n]: and maybe a little cute [y/n]: if we’re still talking about similarities :) 

[yuuta]: cute???????

[y/n]: when u first came to jujutsu tech u were kinda like a hermit crab LMFAO [y/n]: i think if u had a shell u would’ve lived in it for WEEKS XD

[yuuta]: ._.

[y/n]: :)

[yuuta]: ur being a menace today [yuuta]: more than usual

[y/n]: it’s bcuz gojo’s lesson plan so far has been fighting the air :/ idk how he’s a teacher.  i’m definitely not learning anything [y/n]: except that i might be able to take him in a fight without cursed energy

[yuuta]: my money is on u :)  [yuuta]: but also i’ll be there with ice cream when u get ur ass kicked 

[y/n]: &lt;;/3[y/n]: that’s my broken heart[y/n]: you’ve broken my heart.

[yuuta]: lol [yuuta]: but there will be ice cream [yuuta]: <3

[y/n]: …  [y/n]: ok i might forgive u

[yuuta]: is it bcuz i’m cute  [yuuta]: :)) [yuuta]: ?? (y/n) ?? [yuuta]: :(( [yuuta]: don’t ghost me ik ur not paying attention in class

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The tenth phone call they have, (y/n’s) the one calling him.

It’s one in the morning his time, so he’s sound asleep on the mattress that still feels stiff after about three months of him sleeping on it.  Every day he longs more and more to go back home to his cozy room and his friends and her.  

When his ringtone blares, a pretty tune that’s suddenly the most obnoxious sound on the planet, he’s awake right away.  Jolting from his slumber and reaching around blindly in search of the device.  He nearly shoves everything on his bedside table right off, his arm swinging with too much force in his desperate attempt to pick up the phone.

Even once it’s in his hand, it takes him a second to steadily press the accept button, his vision blurry and sleep still threatening to take back over.  It takes him a few tries before he’s answering the call and laying the phone on his pillow next to his head.

“Hello?” He rasps out.

“Yuuta!” (y/n’s) all too cheery for one in the morning, but he distantly remembers it’s the early evening in Tokyo.  His eyes squeeze shut as he rubs at them tiredly.  “Yuuta! How could you not tell me the good news!?” 

She’s yelling, and even without his phone on speaker he hears her perfectly fine just having the device laying next to his head.  It’s a shock to his ears, his mind buzzing as it tries to wake him up to deal with the noise.  But he snuggles deeper into his pillow, rolling onto his side to press his face into the feathery plushness.

“-was gonna wait,” He mumbles sleepily.  “Y’know, ‘til I was awake, ‘nd it was a normal time” His words are followed by a low chuckle.  The pillow suddenly becomes the comfiest thing he’s ever touched, and even the stiff mattress becomes a little more inviting.

“Wait?” She repeats the word before gasping dramatically.  “Okkotsu Yuuta, I had to hear you were coming back from Toge!” 

He chuckles again at her antics.  He’s still exhausted, but his chest feels warm hearing the excitement in her voice.

“Do you know how long it took him to tell me? Hm? He did charades, Yuuta.  Charades!” The image has him laughing a little more, shoulders shaking just a little bit as he listens to her go on.  “I’m terrible at charades by the way.  The whole thing took, like, fifteen minutes.  I was pissed he couldn’t just write it down” 

“Toge’s jus’ like that” He mumbles.

“But you told him before me?” 

Yuuta’s not sure if the offense in her tone is fake or not.  To play it safe, he covers his tracks.

“No,” He sighs.  “Gojo pr’lly told him.  He only just told me before I went to bed” 

“And you didn’t even text,” (y/n) huffs, but he can hear the laugh she’s trying to hold back.  He smiles in relief knowing she was just sticking to her bit.  “Well you better actually text me as soon as you’re back!” She says threateningly.  “We have plans.  You promised” 

“How could I forget?” He hums, voice low and growing quieter as his body beckons him to fall back to sleep.

“Okay.  Good,” She says definitively.  “I guess I’ll let you go back to sleep.  Sorry for waking you up” 

He hums in amusement.

“Don’t be sorry for being so excited to see me you couldn’t contain it,” He teases quietly.  (y/n’s) silent on the other end of the line.  “And don’t be embarrassed, either” He adds.

“I’m not embarrassed!” She squeaks, making him chuckle some more.  Maybe he was just deprived of his sleep, but she was extra cute when he was the one doing the teasing.  “But I… I am excited to see you” 

He smiles into his pillow, sighing contentedly into it.

“I know sweetheart,” He mumbles.  “And ‘m excited to see you too” 

She’s failing to stifle a giggle through the speaker.

“Okay okay, you’re clearly wiped.  I’ll let you go,” She says.  “Goodnight, Yuuta” 

“Night, (y/n)” 

He’s asleep before she even ends the call, drawn back into rest by the suddenly comfortable bedding and the sweet echo of her laughter playing in his mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

(y/n) had been adamant about having their movie night the same night he gets back to Tokyo.  With the jet lag and the time difference keeping him awake against his wishes, she was sure that having a relaxed evening inside would be the best way to ease him back into being at home.

Yuuta, on the other hand, tried to make it clear that they didn’t have to rush into it.  His flight would land at eleven in the evening, and he was sure he wouldn’t even be back to campus before midnight.  While it might have felt like early afternoon to him, (y/n) would have already had a full day of lessons and training, and likely be exhausted by that time.

However she was stubborn.  It didn’t matter how much he tried to persuade her otherwise, she remained certain that she would stay awake long enough to greet him and have a simple, fun night set up for them.

And who was he to fight too hard against it anyways? The idea of her going through the trouble and wanting to stay up so late just to see him gave him energy for the whole day.  He was smiling through customs, bouncing his leg waiting to board, texting her as much as possible before he’d have to put his phone on airplane mode, and greeting every employee and flight attendant with so much delight it was infectious.  He’d even gotten an extra package of goldfish for his delightful friendliness.

He’s as quick as can be picking up his checked luggage and rushing out of the airport.  Anyone who saw might have thought he was late, but in actuality he was trying to be as early as possible.  He’d practically crashed into Ijichi, almost racing past him, but just as quickly recognition flashed in his eyes and he gave the manager a bone crushing hug, forgetting his strength.

The man was alarmed by the affection, awkwardly patting the boy’s back before stepping out of the embrace and nervously laughing.  He leads Yuuta out of the building and towards the sleek black car that’s waiting to take him home.  Yuuta’s positively buzzing the whole ride.  It’s obvious that Ijichi is tired, it’s almost the middle of the night after all, but he does find some amusement in Yuuta’s pure and unfiltered excitement.

However when the boy shouts for a pit stop at a local twenty-four hour grocery shop, the man almost drives the car right off the road, slamming on the brakes and pulling over roughly enough to wake him up completely.  If Yuuta notices the harsh driving maneuvers, he doesn’t say anything.  Simply grabbing his wallet and rushing inside the building.  Ijichi swears all these kids pumped full of muscles and adrenaline would be the death of him.

Yuuta comes back with a full paper bag and a grin, thanking the manager as they continue the drive home without a hitch.

He shouldn’t have the energy he does when they arrive, but Ijichi watches in shock as Yuuta easily carries all of his bags and the delicate groceries and breaks into a full sprint for the dorms, hollering one last thank you as he does.

He’s unceremonious as he drops his things in his room.  There is a certain comfort in being back in a space he can contently call his own, but the welcome home nap he was so eager to take in his own bed could wait.  He leaves his things and is swept away by his own two feet as he hurries down the hall.

There’s the faintest of light peeking out under only one door, all the others tightly shut and seemingly dark inside.  It was past midnight, and there were lessons first thing tomorrow morning.  He’s hesitant for only a second as he reaches the door, but adrenaline takes over again and he’s knocking as quietly as he can.

He can barely hear someone inside, although he doesn’t make out any real words.  Just to be safe, he knocks again.

“H’llo?” A tired voice calls back a little louder this time.

Yuuta’s hand is shaking when he reaches for the latch and slides the door open, just barely peeking inside.

He’d seen (y/n’s) room maybe once in passing, but he hadn’t taken a real glance, and definitely never stepped inside.  Now, he takes it all in with his face lit up in pure astonishment.

It’s decorated with string lights, soft and twinkling slowly here and there.  Just enough to give some ambience without it being overpowering.  Her small television is flickering with the title screen of her adored movie.  She’s curled up in a heap of blankets on the bed, and for a few seconds he thinks she’s asleep.  But her head tiredly lifts to see who her visitor was, and like a switch, she’s full of energy.

“Yuuta!” 

His name falls from her lips in soft awe, and she’s throwing her blankets back and sitting upright, shifting to get out of bed.  Yuuta’s beaming back at her, stepping into the room and turning to slide the door shut behind him.  The others would be quite annoyed if they were to be woken up at this hour.

She’s stumbling a bit towards him, her arms outstretched and her face in a lazy grin.  It takes no time at all for her to cross the room and throw her arms around him to hug him tightly.  Yuuta’s careful to hold his bag of goodies to the side so they don’t get crushed when he reciprocates the tight hug.

He hadn’t hugged her before he left for Africa.  He hadn’t hugged anyone, actually.  Just waved as he bid them goodbye.  Hugging her now feels like something he’d waited for for ages, and finally getting to hold her against him has his heart soaring.

“You’re finally home,” She’s smiling into his chest, and pulls away only so she can grin up at him, properly taking in his pretty eyes and longer hair.  She’s just about to comment on the change in style before she notices the bag in his hand, and focuses on it instead.  “Did you bring gifts?” She asks with a playful smirk.

“Uh- yeah, I mean, sorta,” He stammers, his face getting warmer than he would’ve liked as he opens the bag and glances inside, suddenly apprehensive about handing them to her.  “It’s not from Africa, but they are necessities,” He tells her.

(y/n) raises a brow curiously, before prompting him to show her what he brought.

Yuuta’s sheepish as he reaches in the bag and produces a family size package of lemon flavored oreos.  It seemed like a great idea when he’d picked them up, but now he feels anxiety twisting in stomach as he presents them to her.

“Lemon oreos!” (y/n’s) nothing short of delighted as she takes the package from his hands, already peeling back the plastic to snatch one and take a bite right away.  She hums as she finishes the cookie, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she seals the package again.  “You remembered, thank you.  We’ll definitely finish those tonight” She says with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I brought my own snack, they’re all yours” He says softly.  She brightens even further at the prospect.

“You really know the way to a woman’s heart, Okkotsu” She teases.  

After months of getting teased over the phone, he finally gets to witness it first hand.  Her cheeks are pink and her eyes shift between his and other spots around the room bashfully.  He wonders if she was always so shy when she’d teased him before.

His smile softens as he reaches into the bag again, carefully holding the other gift as he pulls it from the bag.  (y/n’s) eyes widen and her lips part as she takes in the sight of the beautiful arrangement of flowers he was holding.  It was simple, a pretty bouquet of lilies, lily of the valley, to be specific, she recognized them as the same white flowers scattered around the courtyard.  Her eyes were locked on the bouquet as Yuuta picked around it a bit, making sure every flower was perfect and presentable.

“It’s not, uh, the most expensive bouquet in the world,” He mumbles anxiously once he deems the flowers pretty enough to hand to her.

She looks up at him as though silently asking if they were really for her, her surprise evident in the way she stared at him in soft surprise before she finally took the flowers.  Her movements are slow and so, so careful, not wanting to bend a single stem out of place.

“But, still, um,” With his hands free Yuuta begins to fiddle, scratching at the nape of his neck as he struggles to meet her gaze.  “Y’know, I just wanted to… give you flowers” 

A smile breaks out across her face as she leans close to them to take in a whiff, soothed by the gentle, clean scent that fills her nose.

“I love them,” She murmurs, still staring in awe at the pretty arrangement.  “Can I take a picture?” She asks, and he nods wordlessly.  He finally takes in a breath of air when she turns around to grab her phone from the bed, not having realized he’d been holding it since handing her the intimate gift.

What he doesn’t realize is she’s bounding back over to him with her phone in hand, the camera flipped around so she can take a selfie of her flowers with him very much in it.

“C’mon, smile!” She giggles as she turns her phone sideways, eyeing the image of him with his blushing face and wide eyes, obviously caught off guard.

She snaps the photo when he throws up a peace sign and gives the most relaxed smile he can, his eyes closed and his cheeks undeniably pink.  (y/n) admires it before tucking her phone back into her pocket and clutching the flowers close to her chest lovingly.

“Thank you so much,” She gives them one last affectionate glance before tucking them carefully into a jar on her desk- after she dumped all the pens in it onto her workspace without a second thought.  Yuuta almost laughed at how quickly she made the mess and left it in order for the bouquet to have a safe home.  Once she’s sure they’re safe and sound, she turns back to him again.

It’s funny how out of place he looks standing in her doorway.  Long legs and broad shoulders taking up more space in her room than she would’ve thought.  She’d almost forgotten how large Yuuta was.  Somehow, it made it funnier that he looked so lost.  Like he didn’t want to take a step, and didn’t know what to do with his hands.  She could tell he was trying his best to come across as comfortable as he could, but she could see the wince behind his smile, and his slowly shifting feet.  

He looks out of place now, but she likes having him here.  She likes that he smells like sandalwood, and something sweet like vanilla.  She likes that he’s still holding the paper bag that he’d brought her gift in, not wanting to drop it somewhere in her room like a piece of litter.  She likes that when their eyes meet he smiles, and crinkles form on his eyes that compliment his blushing face.

She likes everything about Yuuta, but right now, she likes that he was the first boy to ever bring her flowers most of all.

So despite her racing heart, she decides to tell him so.

“I’m glad you were the first guy to ever give me flowers” 

Yuuta’s smile drops slightly as his face softens with surprise, eyebrows raising higher when she steps even closer to him.

He’s holding his breath again when she leans onto the tips of her toes and pressing a quick kiss to his warm cheek.  The feeling of her lips brushing over his skin only makes it heat up more, and against his will he lets out a little gasp for air.  (y/n) giggles when she stands flat on her feet again, her nose slightly wrinkled at her amusement at how easily Yuuta flusters.

She’s starting to think to herself that she should test just how much she can fluster him while he’s here, when he’s suddenly the one taking her breath away.

He steps forward to close the distance between them again, dropping the paper bag so he can slide his hands under her jaw, tilting it upwards so he can lean down and kiss her with ease.  A gasp dies in the back of her throat just as his lips touch hers, the hesitation from her surprise only momentary.  

For a soft kiss, Yuuta radiates so much passion her knees feel weak, and her hands are firm as they press into his shoulders, desperate to keep herself upright.  Even his hands are gentle, their touch warm and featherlight against her face.

She longs to press impossibly closer and explore his every last dip and crevice, but for right now, everything is perfect.  His gentleness, his sweetness, him, she couldn’t have hoped for a more lovely first kiss.

Just as the kiss was, he pulls away slowly, forehead still touching hers.  A short sigh escapes him before his lips turn into a smile.  (y/n) watches as his mouth stretches and curls, her own face mirroring the expression, before her eyes flicker up to his to see he’s staring down at her.

“Sorry, I-” He shakes his head, trying to find just the right words to tell her how long he’d been thinking about doing that.  His mind is too foggy so he runs his mouth with abandon.  “I’ve just really wanted to do that” He murmurs.

(y/n) giggles, her face blooming with color at the blatant confession.  It had her heart going haywire even more after the kiss, and any hopes of being the one to fluster him goes out the window.  She’s putty in his hands and he must know it.

“Don’t be sorry,” She whispers back, shyly averting her gaze, not that it does her any favors, he’s still cradling her face and keeping her so close that it felt there was no shying away from him.  “I… I was hoping to talk to you, um, when you got back,” She says, the grin on her face betraying her as she tried to casually mention her feelings for him.  “About, y’know, hanging out more, ‘n stuff” 

Yuuta chuckles at her bashful nonchalance, nodding his head back at her with an excited gleam in his eyes.

“I’d like to hang out more and stuff,” He hums, dropping his hands from her face and nodding to where she’d set up the movie hours earlier.  “Should we start with watching your movie?” 

Excitement flashes in her eyes as she nods her head back at him, before taking his hand and tugging him over to the comfort of her bed.

“Settle in, your mind is about to be blown by literary perfection and cinematic masterpiece.  This is their love child” 

He chuckles, falling into the mattress with her and getting settled against the mountain of pillows at her headboard while she searches her blankets for the remote.  His chest is still vibrating with adrenaline, but as he sinks into a comfortable bed for the first time in months, he finds himself relaxing.

Despite his body feeling like it was the late afternoon, he feels as though he could go right to sleep.

It helps when (y/n) passes out first.  Her body slumps against his and she snores softly against his chest.  It’s such an amusing sight he can’t help but take a photo for her to wake up to in her messages.  He pauses the movie so that they can pick it up from where they left off tomorrow, and then settles deeper into the cozy bed.

The comfort he felt with every text received from her, every phone call to keep him company in the last few months of being away and being alone, it seems almost personified now.  Resting here beside her, simply sharing the same space, Yuuta feels the same wave of relief now.  He can’t help but smile to himself as he settles under the covers, being careful to not disturb her peaceful slumber.

He’s asleep in a matter of minutes.  The warmth of her body so close and the plush mattress working together to put his mind at such ease he didn’t even notice he was tired until he was closing his eyes and drifting off.

It was good to be home.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // fuck it, i love you // i really do ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

a/n: gojo pays the international phone bills obviously so don't be commenting on it

[dilemmaontwolegs]

would you write something about charles from the bucket list after she passes!

The Bucket List - Two Years Later || CL16

Warnings: mentions of grief Main Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments

“Why are you so sad?”

Charles looked up from his hands, limp and lifeless on his lap. He cast his eyes around to see he was sitting on a bench at the edge of a park, a cold winter breeze biting him through his jacket. He couldn’t remember how he got there, he had just started walking, needing to get out of the house before he truly drove himself crazy. This time of year was always hard, even now, two years later.

Finally, his eyes landed on the little girl who waited patiently for an answer. She swayed side to side like there was music he couldn’t hear and he looked around for her parents, but the park was mostly empty at this time of year.

“Where is your mother?”

She shrugged but didn’t seem worried that she was alone, she was more interested in getting an answer. “Why are you sad?”

Charles swallowed and twisted his wedding ring around his finger, the habitual movement a way to distract himself. “I lost someone very dear to me.”

“Do you want me to help you find them?” She held out her hand and Charles almost smiled at the sweet innocence. 

“I’m afraid she’s somewhere we can’t go, she’s in heaven now.”

Her hand fell back to her side as she smiled brightly. “Then she’s not lost, silly. You know where she is.”

“Angel!” Charles turned to the frantic voice coming from the footpath that wound its way through the park. The woman rushed towards the bench and dropped to her knees in front of the little girl as she assessed her for any scrapes or bruises. “Angelique, what have I told you about running off? You scared me to death.”

“Sorry, mama,” she apologised as her face fell. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s my fault,” Charles found himself saying, feeling sorry for the little girl as tears began to well in her big brown eyes. “She was checking if I was alright, she’s very kind.”

“She is.” Her mother smiled and pulled her into a hug but Charles could see the worry linger in her eyes. “And are you alright?”

“I’m better now,” he admitted with a weak smile. “I’m Charles.”

“Grace,” she said as she shook his hand, “and this is my Angel.”

“Charles was sad his friend went to heaven. I don’t know why anyone would be sad about that, it’s heaven! But I guess he just really misses her,” Angelique rambled quickly, recapping her mother with the conversation she had missed. Grace sent Charles an apologetic smile, her eyes catching on the ring he spun on his left hand. “Do you think she knows papa?”

The question sent a pang to Grace's heart and she stood up, brushing the leaves from her jeans. “I don’t know, mon ange, I imagine it is a big place.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Charles said as he caught the same pain across her face that he felt everyday. Looking at her hands he saw a ring on her finger too and sighed. “I should let you get back to your day.”

“Wait, Charles,” Grace called as she quickly caught up to him on the path. “How long?”

He kicked the stones at his feet and instinctively knew what she was asking. “Two years, you?”

“Three and a half. Everybody tells you it’s going to get easier, don’t they? Just give it time.” She wrinkled her nose at the idea. 

“I’m still waiting for that part,” he chuckled humorlessly. 

“It doesn’t get easier,” she said softly as she looked at the trees but her eyes were unfocused. “But I have found that a bottle of wine, or talking to someone who looks at you with something other than pity, does help. I can’t remember which it is that actually helps, but we could try both - if you want?”

Charles laughed, a sound that had been foreign to him this week as your anniversary came and went, and he found himself nodding. “I’m not sure about your selling technique but at this point I will give anything a try.”

“Free wine always works with the French,” she joked as pulled out her phone to get his number. 

“The Monegasque,” he corrected, making Angelique giggle. 

Turning her phone around she showed him the contact to make sure it was right before calling him: Charles Le Monegasque.

“It’s actually Leclerc.”

[i-heart-marvel]

Polaroid films | Noah Diaz x fem!reader

(Not my GIF)

Summary: When your best friend’s mom called you and asked you the babysit Kris while she’s out at work. You didn’t expect to see Noah come back so early from his work. After a while of talking y’all decided to catch up…maybe makes some photographic memories.

Warnings: fingering, making out, voyeurism?, first time writing smut, oral (M receiving), and slight nipple play?

So I haven’t seen the movie in a while so everything is gonna be weird or not right?! This is after the whole ROTB. Also like I said in the warning it’s my first time writing smut. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————<3———————————

It was lunch time when my phone rang. I ran from my room to the living room answering the phone on the third ring.

“Hello?” Y/n wasn’t expecting a call at all from anyone. It’s been awhile since her phone rang, or was even used. “Hey Y/n, how are you sweetheart?” Mrs. Diaz asked her voice wavering. Oh how I missed hearing her voice. She was like a second mom to me. I haven’t seen the Diaz family, or talked to them since Noah went and did a job for Reek. It’s not like I didn’t want to go see them or call them but it hurt knowing that Noah didn’t even bother putting effort into our long time friendship. Ever since he did that job he ignored me, didn’t even bother to come to our daily park walks. ‘Those were the most important’ he would say every time my schooling was in the way. I would drop everything and go with him without a question.

“Oh hey Mrs. Diaz! I’m good just been studying real hard for my classes. Y cómo está usted? Esta bien?” I was concerned plus confused. Normally her voice would be bright and soothing, but now it sounds rushed. “Oh estamos muy vein pequeña. But I have to ask you for a favor” Mrs. Diaz asked her voice now unsure. Mrs. Diaz knew her and Noah haven’t talked in awhile and knew it would be awkward if she came over to do this favor for her. Mrs. Diaz just ran out of options. “Yeah tell me! Que es?” Y/n asked hesitation laced in her words.

“Well I’m going to enter my shift in about an hour, and I need a babysitter for Kirs. Noah can’t make it since he’s working right now.” Y/n heard Kris in the background saying that he doesn’t need one since he’s ‘grown’. I chuckled at that, “Ay Kris you know I would never leave you by yourself. Anyways Y/n I was wondering if you can come and stay with Kris until Noah comes off his shift tonight?” I stayed quiet listening to her words. Many thoughts ran through my mind, ‘what if Noah tries to talk to me? Do I ignore him? What if he ignores me? What would he do when he got there?’. Hearing Mrs. Diaz on line saying my name brought me out of my train of thought. “Mhm… Yes I’m sorry I was just thinking um yeah sure I would love to. I haven’t seen Kris in awhile so why not?”

I honestly need a brake from my studying anyways, so babysitting Kris could be a breather. Just hope nothing awkward would happen. “Oh good I can pay you tomorrow and there’s snacks in the fridge, cabinets, and leftovers in the also in the fridge.” Mrs. Diaz rambling at this point telling me all this information. “Mr-Mrs. Diaz! You don’t have to pay you know? You guys are like family to me I can be there in like twenty or so minutes yeah? I will be there just don’t pay me.” I let out reassuring her that she doesn’t need to pay me. “Okay está vein just bring want you need pequeña. I will meet you here. Okay bye thank you!” Mrs. Diaz hung up the phone. I put the phone back on the wall, I stood there contemplating if I should do this.

I walked out of the living room going into my room getting ready. I put on some comfortable clothes and shoes. I get my book bag and started to grab some VHS tapes knowing what Kris would like. Grabbing my Polaroid camera, I put it in my bag so I can take some photos for my class. After getting everything i need I start heading out the door, but before I close the door, “shit can’t leave without this,” I quickly run back in and get my stashed chocolates. I grab some and put them in my bag. “Couldn’t leave without this,” I finally shut my door and lock it.

——————————————<3———————————

When I get there I knock at the door and wait patiently. Hearing footsteps nearing the door I anxiously start to play with my fingers. The door opens and reveals Kris.

“Hey Kris!” I said with a big smile on my face. He comes out and hugs me, “hey Y/n I missed you. Why don’t you come anymore?” Kris looked up at me releasing me. “Oh!” My voice faltering a bit, “I was just busy with my schooling Kris you know it’s very hard once you get older.” I said hands on his shoulder lightly turning him around him. “Okay let’s get on with this hangout bud!” “Yeah!” Kris yelled excitedly. We got into the house and I see Mrs. Diaz. “Hey Mrs.Diaz!” I walked up to her inviting arms and hugged tightly. “Oh hi pequeña! I missed you, but I’m in a rush” Mrs. Diaz quickly let go of the hug and kissed me on the cheek. She was rushing around the kitchen and living room, quickly gathering her things. “Like I said over the phone there’s food leftovers in the fridge and snacks…somewhere anyways I will see you guys later.” Mrs. Diaz went up to Kris and kissed her forehead, “oh mom come on not in front of Y/n” Kris whispered to his mom.

“Okay I’m leaving. Be safe you two Noah will come later okay? Okay bye love y’all” Mrs. Diaz quickly walked out and shut the door.

They stood there staring at the door. “Wow I have never seen her that quick” Kris said eyes wide, “me neither” I said my mouth opened in shock. I close my and turn to Kris, “now do you want to watch some movies” my voice raised a higher octave. I set my bag on the kitchen table getting out the VHS tapes. “We have some different options here” Kris turns around and looks my way and starts to walk up to the table. “We got Hocus-pocus, The Nightmare before Christmas.” I kept listening off the movies I brought and hand them to Kris for him to look at and pick. While he looked I got into the cabinets and start to get the popcorn out and some sugary snacks. I looked up at the clock and see that’s it one thirty. ‘Maybe after a movie I can take some photos.’

“Oh I think I would like this,” he showed me the movie The Snadlot. “Oh that’s a good one. You will love it more than you like it,” I said smiling at Kris and he smiled back. “Okay go put it in and I can get the snacks started!”

“Okay!” Kris exclaimed excitedly going to the tv and putting in. I got the popcorn out of the microwave and put it in to two separate bowls, and I grab the candy’s and bring them to the living room. “Here you go Kris,” I hand him the bowl and he thanks me. I laid the candy down on the coffee table and start to watch the movie with him.

——————————————<3———————————

We finished the movie a few minutes ago so I go to get up. “How did you like the movie Kris?” I asked while getting the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers. “I liked it, it was cool!” Kris got up too and got our empty soda cans and threw them away. “Are we gonna watch other one Y/n?” Kris looked at me while I was putting washing the bowls, “yeah we can watch one later.” I looked up at the clock and see that it’s three something in the afternoon.

“Hey wanna go to the park and take some photos? It’s for my class and I think you’re the perfect super star to be in my photos” I asked him smiling leaning my back on the counter with my arms crossed in front of me. “Mhm what do I get if I do be in your photos?” Kris questioned with one eyebrow raised. I looked at him playfully going along with it, “how about free ice cream?” I said while doing jazz hands. “You got yourself a deal Y/n!” Kris smiled and took out his hand for a shake. I shake his hand and start to get my stuff, “okay then Kris go get your shoes and we can leave.” I smiled as he quickly ran for his shoes.

——————————————<3———————————

After we went to the park and took some pretty good photos we got ice cream from a little shop.

We made it back at the apartment at six. I opened the door and let Kris in first, “how do you like your ice cream bud?” I asked while he walked passed me I ruffled his hair a bit. “It’s so good!” Kris exaggerated with a smile while putting a spoonful in his mouth. I chuckled at his actions, “yeah it’s very good, but don’t tell your mom I gave you ice cream before dinner.” I walked in behind him shutting the door and locking it behind me. I sat on the couch and looked at the tv that was playing on a random channel. “Hey Kris,” I look beside me to get his attention. “What?” He questioned eyes still focused on the tv, “what do you want from the leftovers? You guys have a different variety.”

“Oh I don’t care what you reheat, just don’t reheat Noah’s leftovers he said that there differently seasoned.” Kris said looking at you making quote on quote hand gestures. “Oh okay, yeah of course!” I said laughing and getting up to the kitchen and getting out the pasta. I see the container that’s says ‘Noah’s leftover’ I chuckled seeing the burnt food. “Okay well I’m reheating pasta” I said while taking two plates and putting pasta on them.

After heating them up I told Kris that it was ready. “Coming” he said while walking to his seat, “thank you Y/n.” Kris smiled at and I smiled back, “oh you’re welcome Kris.” When I was about to put the delicious food in my mouth I hear the door unlock. “Kris I’m home!” The voice yelled out. It was Noah. ‘Shit’ I yelled in my mind. “Oh hey Noah. Y/n’s here mom asked her to babysit me.” Kris said with a big smile looking at his big brother waking through the miniature hallway. I keep my head down avoiding to look at Noah playing with my food. “Oh.” Noah let out looking at the back of my head, “hey Y/n” he let out awkwardly. Noah walked into the kitchen looking at you before opening the fridge and getting a drink. “Hey Noah” I said keeping my head down, too scared to look at him.

Kris was confused his smile faltering a bit. “Why did it get so quiet all of sudden?” Kris asked innocently looking back and fourth between the two of you. I looked at Noah who is leaning on the counter with a soda can in his hand looking at me. “Nothing wrong Kris everything’s fine. Tell Noah what we did today,” I put on a fake smile and turned around to look at him hoping he can’t see through me.

“Oh well.…” Kris began to tell Noah what we did today. I toned him out and played with my food, occasionally I would look up at Noah who has moved to the table sitting right in front of me. We would make eye contact but would break it quickly as it came. After Kris was done he wanted me to show Noah some off the photos I took of him at the park. “They look good, I myself look good Noah” Kris said smiling while looking at Noah. Noah looked at you and began to show a little smile, “can I see them?” He questioned his voice was gentle and soft approaching. I looked up at him and sat there, “um yeah, uh let me get them.” I said dazed a little bit, nodding my head I get up and go to the living room the retrieve my film book.

I get it out and walk back to the table. Noah and Kris were talking about what Noah did today but stop when I got close. “Look they’re going to look so good. You’re pretty good at this Y/N!” Kris smiled excitedly and looked at me, “oh thank you Kris, you look handsome in these!” I said looking back him smiling while sitting down at my seat. I hand Noah my book gently I made eye contact with him and smiled a bit, he smiled back. “Thanks Y/n/n” Noah smiled grabbing my book and opening it.

“I was g-glad there wasn’t such a big crowd today since usually where I go to take those photos I can’t even get a shot.” I was surprised I said a word to Noah. I smiled and look at Kris, “maybe your my lucky charm bud. You should always come with me.” I said while chuckling and ruffling his hair. Kris smiles at me and playfully slaps my hand. “Maybe I should, I can get more ice cream.” He said playfully, “I would give you all the ice cream you would want for helping me out” I said while turning back to Noah who is still looking at them.

“Do you like them?” I questioned softly playing with my fingers, nervous for his response. Kris got up to look at the pictures with him “They look great Y/n” Noah said looking up at you smiling brightly, “you made Kris look pretty good!” I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything bad. “Why don’t you take photos of yourself Y/n?” Kris asked looking up at you while also Noah does too. “Yeah why don’t you take photos of yourself Y/n/n?” Noah asked too with a teasing smile. I blushed, “I don’t think I would look good in films, and I’m too busy to take photos of myself.” I looked at Noah who is still smiling at me, I smiled back. “How about I take a photo of you?” Noah questioned already getting up and walking to my bag.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that Noah!” I quickly exclaimed getting up from where I sat. “Wait let him Y/n you barley have any of yourself!” Kris said walking up and facing me, “you look good!” He gleefully said. I see Noah at my bag getting my camera, so I walked up close to him “you remembered how to take one yeah?” I questioned softly, not wanting him to do something accidentally wrong. “Yes I remember Y/n/n” Noah said turning around a getting my camera ready. “Okay now get ready!” He smiled at me, I turn around and look at Kris. I make a come here motion but he shakes his head with a smile and runs to his brother.

“Come on Noah you know I can’t do it myself it’s awkward,” I tried to get out of the situation. “Nope come on Y/n pose!” Noah said smiling and closing one eye, I let out a smile and put my hands behind my back. The flash goes off and blinds me for a bit I hear the Polaroid making my film.

Noah walked up to me with the film in hand shaking a bit so the process is faster. When he showed me I saw my form and my smile. “See you look so great Y/n/n” Noah said softly slightly moving his head down so I can hear him. “Thank you Noah.” I said just as softly looking up at him, I see that his cheeks are covered in red dust so were mine. We made eye contact for a few more seconds before we heard Kris’s footsteps, “see you do look good Y/n. No wonder why Noah said you were made to be in front of the camera.” Kris said smiling down at the picture than at me. “I’m going to put it in your book!” Kris ran off with the photo to the kitchen.

I go to sit on the couch, “you said that about me?” I questioned Noah softly. I sit on the far right of the couch with Noah sitting beside me, but he left us some space. “Yeah every time my ma would bring you and your camera skills up I said you should be in front of it instead.” He said blushing while looking at me. When I see his freckled face I can’t help but remember what he did, they way he ignored me for days. Didn’t call, visit me, or even come to our hangouts. I decided now it’s the time to ask him. “Noah what happened? Why did you ignore me? For like several days!” I examined softly so Kris doesn’t hear.

Noah was taken aback. He was surprised I even brought this up. Noah looked at me with sad eyes, “look Y/n/n-“ he was cut off by Kris yelling out, “Hey can we watch another movie Y/n?” Kris was smiling walking up to you two with more of my VHS tapes. Noah was thankful for Kris Interrupting him, he wouldn’t know how to explain to you that he works for a secret organization that’s nobody knows about.

I looked at him with a look that said ‘this isn’t over’. “Yeah sure bud pick whatever you want!” I got up and went to the tv to change the setup.

——————————————<3———————————

After watching the movie Kris had fallen asleep on my shoulder. Noah sat on the opposite side of Kris, his arm laid flat behind Kris’s head his hand almost touching my shoulder.

“Noah,” I said quietly facing him not trying move so much as not wake up Kris. “Can you carry Kris to his room please?” Noah looked at me and nodded, while he was carrying Kris away I was thinking of what happened earlier. I pulled the blanket up to my chest, the one Noah got me. ‘Does he do anything bad? Is he even my best friend anymore? What does he even do for work that he managed to ignore me so much?’

A door shutting brought me out of my thoughts. I see Noah walking into the living room, he looks up at me and sits on the couch. “Look Y/n/n earlier I wanted to say that-“ he stops and takes a deep breath. I turn my whole body to look at him, my knees almost touching his thighs. Noah didn’t know what to say. How can he explain in words what he works for, and that no one has even heard of. “Y/n/n I really can’t explain. If I could I would tell you I would, but I am really, really sorry that I had ignored you for several days. My job is just really complicated I’m dealing with all this shit that probably wouldn’t even make sense to you-“ Noah rambled on talking fast, but I heard every word. “What do you mean your work is fucking complicated? To complicated to call for a minute and say ‘oh hey Y/n how are you? I’m doing fine myself! Wanna go have our daily walks and talk about life.’ You can’t even tell me that you’re safe and fine ugh!”

I jumped up from the couch and let out a groan. “I’m still mad at you Noah. You had me thinking that our friendship didn’t even mean anything to you. I don’t even know if it still means anything!” I said shouting quietly at him as to not wake up Kris. Noah looked up at me and got up and put his hands on my arms. “Our friendship means everything to me Y/n! I didn’t call you because I needed you to be safe!” Noah exclaimed his left hand going to the my cheek, his thumb going back and fourth.

“If I told you what I do you would want to help but I love you too much to lose you to some evil aliens!” I felt his breathe hitting my face. He was breathing hard, I looked into his eyes to see them glossed over by tears. My eyes soften at the sight, “What are you talking about Noah?” I grab his hand that’s on my cheek, gripping it. “Evils aliens? Are you insane?” I drop his hand and back up a little bit not believing one word. “There’s no such thing as aliens Noah. Gosh you do you really think I’m that dumb?” I scoffed and started to walk to the kitchen.

“See this is why I didn’t want to have this conversation cause you wouldn’t believe me Y/n! But trust me please!” Noah begged walking behind me and grabbing my arm making me turn around. “Trust me when I say this I love you! I have always been in love with you Y/n!” Noah said smiling sadly a tear running down his face. He was looking at me with such desperation, he hesitates his next words “befo-before I went to do the job for Reek I wanted to ask you out but I was scared of what you would say, and when I found out a dude from space was going to end the whole world I decided to not tell anyone not even you. I was terrified of what would happen to you.”

Noah brought both his hands and put them back on my cheeks. I started to tear up from his confession. He wiped the fat tears away from my face. “You’re telling the truth?” I whispered still unsure but beginning to trust his every word. He nodded licking his lips still making eye contact with me. “Oh Noah,” I sobbed out hugging him my arms wrapping around his waist. He lets out a breath and hugs you back wrapping his arms around your shoulder tucking his head into your shoulder. “Noah I love you too but you can’t ever do this again. This time you have to me everything please.” Taking my head off his chest I looked up at him, “promise me Noah, promise that we will tell each other everything even if it’s bad or good.”

I said bringing my hand on his cheek. “I promise.” He whispered back his eyes still glossy, I smiled up at him. “Y/n-“ Noah whispered liking the feeling of your warm palm on his cheek, “yes?” “Can I kiss you?” He asked wrapping a his hand around the back of my neck. My eyes widened a little I meekly nodded. He leans in slowly noses touching, I feel his breath on my lips.

Then I feel his lips connecting to mine,kissing me gently, I kiss back. I never imagined kissing my best friend but here we are. The kiss was soft and slow and it feels just like out of a fairytale. I feel his mustache rub on the top of my lip. Our lips fitting like a perfect puzzle piece, but we sadly both pull away for air. I whined at losing contact. Our foreheads connect both of us out of breath. Noah opens his eyes and sees Y/n still has her eyes closed but with a pleasured smile. “You like that Y/n/n?” Noah said teasingly his thumb rubbing the back of my neck soothing me, and I feel his other hand on my hip steadying me.

I opened my eyes again to see Noah looking at me smiling. I pull back a little, “that was…wow.” I chuckled looking at his plumped lips, “can we kiss again?” I sheepishly asked smiling, he nodded and connected his lips with mine once more. The kiss was harder now with more passion.

Noah licks Y/n’s bottom lip asking her to slip in his tongue, so Y/n opens her mouth a little wider and Noah does just that exploring her mouth. Y/n moans at the feeling, loving every second of this. With their lips still connected they move to the couch. Noah sits down first and puts Y/n on his lap, both of her thighs warp around his hips tightly. His hands go to her legs rubbing them up to her thigh. When he gets to her ass he kneads it. “mmm” I moaned out running my hands through his curls. He pulls away kissing my check and heading down to my neck. “You smell good Y/n,” I felt his nose on my pulse point his teeth nibbling at my neck he starts to suck my neck. I throw my head back letting out a moan my hand tugging his curls. “You even taste well,” he swipes his tongue at new forming bruise. Noah let’s out strained breaths every time I tug his hair.

I feel his hands going under my shirt caressing my lower back. His calloused hands give me goosebumps all over my body. He keeps on making deep colored buries all around my neck, “N-mm” he got to my sweet spot, and I couldn’t help but moan loudly. I quickly bring my hand up to my mouth hoping Kris doesn’t hear any of this. He finally pulls away and looks up at me with hooded eyes. “Was I that good?” He chuckled with smile, “y-yeah that was n-nice,” I couldn’t even talk without stuttering. My breathing was hard at this point I was almost breathless, “you look so good like this Y/n/n wish I can take a picture,” he said bring one on his fingers and dragging it around my neck.

I closed my eyes trying to calm down at the sweet new feeling. “Oh I got an idea Y/n,” he said gently shifting me off his lap I get off and sat on the couch opening my eyes back up, “what are you doing Noah?” I see him going through my bag looking for something he takes out my Polaroid camera, “I want to take a picture of your beautiful self! I wanna remember this,” he states coming back to the couch and pulling me back into his lap. I move around in his lap when I do that he lets out a breathless moan. I feel his groin through his pants touching my core, “s-shit Y/n don’t move as much,” he said bring his hand to my hip tightly gripping it.

I blush at the sound he made, “sorry. Noah how are you gonna take the picture,” I looked at him seeing that he smiling at me his thumb going back and fourth. “Well I was thinking-” he went back to kissing my neck this time he kisses each mark, “I hold the camera close while my mouth is on your neck and you just sit there all pretty enjoying every second of it. You’re the new star for the camera.” I looked at him surprised, “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He started to put the camera down but I stop him, “I would like to,” I said blushing and smiling. He smiles back at me and starts to go back to kissing my neck.

I closed my eyes pleased with all this. His left hand is still on my hip this time making its way to my ass, his other hand holding on to the camera. He raises it up getting ready, but once his lips met my sweet spot again I throw my head back making a o shaped with my mouth. I hear the camera take the shot. Noah pulls away but not without taking one last kiss. I opened my eyes and looked down at him smiling, “does it look good?” I see him shaking the film. He smiles looking down at the processed photo, “yeah it looks very good. You look hot,” Noah looked up at me smirking I blushed again and I grabbed the film.

In the photo I see that my hand is holding on to his curls tightly, my head is pulled back, my mouth opened, half of my face is shown. I can see Noah’s teeth nibbling, and my neck is covered with marks. I smiled at the photo, “I do look hot!” I said chuckling. “Yeah you do,” Noah said grabbing my chin and placing his lips back on mine and we were full on making out. I hear the camera take another film but ignored it and kept going. I guess he ignored it to cause then I feel both of his on my ass.

His fingertips start to mess with the waistband of my pants. “Y/n-” he said bring his right hand to the front, “can I touch you?” He whispers looking down at his hand. I nodded looking at him raising my hand on his cheek I start to lightly kiss it making my way down to his neck. While doing that I feel him rubbing me through my pants, my arousal already seeping through. “mmm f-fuck Noah,” I moaned against his neck I lightly nibble on his tanned skin, “damn Y/n you’re so wet. All this for me?” He said breathless looking at the way his hand is working. I hummed too fucked to form a word.

His fingers start to rub harder putting more pressure. I start to feel the coil tighten in my lower belly, “f-fuck Noah I thi-think I gonna cum” I stammered out pulling my head away. I start to grind into his hand wanting him to go faster, but all of sudden he pulls away I whined missing his fingers. “Oh come on Noah I was about to cum!” I examined looking at him, “oh I know Y/n/n don’t worry. I want to really feel you this time hmm. I wanna feel those walls.” He whispered in my ear kissing under it.

I take in a shuddering breath, “oh Noah. Shit just do it already,” I said whispering desperately. When he hears those last five words his pupils dilate, his eyes full with lust, “oh I will.” He quickly makes us lay down on the couch, he turns me around with my back to his chest my head laying down on his shoulder. I yelped at the sudden move, “I just want you to see how good I fuck you with only my fingers.” He said smirking at me, our eyes meeting and my mouth opened with shock. His hands go under my shirt and starts caressing my stomach. They go up until they meet my breast, he quickly takes the end of my shirt and raises it up to my neck, “mmm they look so good Y/n/n!” Noah groans out kneading both my breast I let out a breathless moan.

I quickly work to take my bra off, but Noah stops me and does it himself. When he’s done he throws it down to the floor and goes back to fondle my breast. I throw my head back to his shoulder closing my eyes, “Y/n I need you to keep those pretty eyes open for me. I want you to see all of this.” He grabs my chin making me open eyes again forcing me to look at his hands. Noah grabs my nipples and starts to rub them, “oh~” I let out closing my eyes but opening just as quickly as I closed them. He let’s go one nipple and brings two fingers up to my mouth, “suck” he simply said.

I opened my mouth letting my tongue stick out, he quickly puts it in my mouth. Closing my mouth around it I start suck on it. He shakily inhales, loving the feeling of your mouth sucking his fingers. Slightly moving my head back and fourth, I swirl my tongue around it, I taste my arousal from earlier. I moaned at the taste Noah pulls them out and goes to my core, I help him pull down my pants and panties. While his other hand is still playing with my nipple, he starts to rub his sucked fingers on my folds rubbing it in circles.

Throwing my head back I moaned trying to keep my eyes opened but it was too good. Noah quickly notices and grabs my chin gently making me bring my head off his shoulder, “look Y/n, or I won’t make you cum.” He whispers into my ear threateningly I nodded my head now focusing my eyes on his slicked fingers. His fingers starts to go down my slit and makes it at the entrance of my aching hole. He teasingly starts to rub it, “please Noah” I whined turning my head a little to look into his eyes, “please what Y/n/n? What do you want?,” he asked slowing his movements.

“P-please I want your fingers inside of me, pumping me until I cum. Please Noah,” I whined gripping his wrist wanting him to do it already. All of sudden he enters without warning making me let out a big gasp. “Ohh~ fuck so tight!” He exclaimed turning his head and kissing behind my ear, his fingers pumping in and out gradually getting faster. I see my slick leaking out me, I hear it squelching every time he meets my folds. He brings his other hand and starts to rub my clit. “Oh f-f-” I moaned not finishing my sentence, his fingers reach the spongy spot that I love so much, “oh ye-yes right there Noah,” I grabbed his wrist making him go faster. I drop my left leg off the couch spreading my legs wider.

You can hear the way he’s pumping so good, the wet noises sounding like heaven to him. I feel his hard breathing hitting my ear, I feel his hard clothe member on my lower back. “Sh-shit I’m gonna cum Noah,” I moaned out quietly looking at the way his hands are working. I bring my left hand and start to knead my breast. Noah feels her walls beginning to tighten, “cum for Y/n/n,” he kisses my cheek and a few more pumps I let go of the coil. I start to come off his fingers, and I turn my head and kiss him to try and cover my loud moans. He pumps a few more times letting me ride my high. I break away and throw my head back breathing heavily, but when I broke away I hear him get my camera from where he left it last.

“Oh that was amazing Y/n/n. You did so good for me,” he said praising me kissing my cheek, “oh look at this beautiful cunt. Wanna take a picture?” He asked me smiling and shaking the camera a bit. I smiled back and agreed, “yeah sure Noah,” his two fingers were still in my hole so he hands me the camera. I try not to move as much since I’m still overstimulated. I bring the camera up to my face and look into the little window, and I saw Noah’s left hand sprawled across stomach his other hand at my core. I feel him move his fingers out a little to show how slicked they’re I whined a bit at the feeling. I take the picture and a flash goes off, I hear the film being processed. When it’s done I take it and look at it admiring it.

Noah fully gets his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth and sucks them dry. “Mmm- told you tasted so good!” Noah moans loving the taste of my sweet slick his eyes rolling to the back of his head, I flushed red at his comment and bury my head into his neck. “Ohh~ don’t get shy on me now Y/n/n!” Noah chuckles bringing his hand onto my head petting my hair, “how can I not?” I asked laughing. He chuckles and shifts a bit.

I still feel his rock hard on my lower back, “Noah?” He looked at me and hummed, “can I return the favor?” I asked looking at him he meekly nods red dusting his cheeks. I sit up and turn around my pants now at my ankles, so I take them fully off. I grab Noah’s hands and make him sit up and turn him so now his back is on the back of couch and his legs are now man spreading. I got on my knees in front of him, “you ready?” I asked smirking putting my hands on his upper thighs, “yes.” He said breathlessly.

I tug his pants and boxers down he raises his hips to help me out. When I fully pull them down his member springs up slapping his stomach pre-cum leaking from his tip. I gently grab it I bring my thumb up to his tip spreading the pre-cum. He lets out a moan and grips the sofa tightly. Bringing my face up I look into Noah’s eyes looking at him through my eyelashes. I kiss the tip going down all the way to his base, and when I get to base I lick my way back up. I feel Noah’s thighs tense up, I opened my mouth and suck on the tip.

Swirling my tongue I go deeper, sucking him with hollow cheeks going up and down. Noah groans and grabs my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail.

I feel every vein in my mouth, and my tongue licking every one. I moaned at the feeling loving him being in my mouth. Noah let’s out a groan, I looked up at him and see that he has his head back and eyes closed his hand still grips my hair tightly. I start to speed up a little closing my eyes, I bring my right hand up and pump what I can’t fit in my mouth. My left hand goes to his balls kneading them. “F-fuck Y-Y/n. Doing s-so good,” Noah stutters out looking at me he brings his left hand and caress my cheek, I opened my eyes again and looked at him his eyelids half closed and dazed. I see him move his hand away from my face and grab the camera that I put down on the couch. I love where he’s going with this.

This time I put him deeper in my mouth, deep throating him, I gagged a little. My salvia is drooling out of my mouth, “Y-mmm~shit~” Noah said pulling my hair making me go up and down. Tears are now pooling in my eyes, “mmm~” I moaned out, I keep on looking at him and see he gets my camera ready so I look straight at it. I bring my lips back up to his tip sucking on it and my right hand working the rest. The flash goes off blinding me making me close my eyes and going back to make him come. “You look so~” Noah groaned out not being able to finish his sentence, “fuck I’m close!” I start to pump him faster. I feel him twitch in my mouth and shoot his load. Noah groaned and tighten his hold on my hair.

I lay my left hand on his abs caressing them. I swallow his load, some of it leaking from the corners of my mouth, I wiped it away. I pull away letting him catch his breathe, I lay my head down on his stomach relaxing my mouth. ““Was I good?” I asked wrapping arms around him”yeah, yeah you were,” he said petting my hair he grabs the film and looks at it. He sees me sucking on his tip, my pupils dilated looking straight at the camera, my right hand on his shaft, my left hand laying in his thigh, and my hair being messy. “You looked so pretty sucking me,” Noah said showing me the film, I blushed while taking it.

“What are you going to do with them, the films I mean?” I asked laying my chin on his stomach looking at him, “well I was going to put it in my own book. For just me and you.” He proclaims, “here wanna take this to my room?” Noah smirks, playfully raising his brows and gently grabbing my arm making me stand up from my position. “How many did we take Noah?” I start to pick up my pants and start to clean up quickly not wanting to be caught by Mrs.Diaz, ‘that would be embarrassing’ I thought.

“We took a few good ones Y/n/n.” He said wrapping his arms around me from behind swaying us a bit. “Mmm okay pretty boy, I’m not waiting on you so let’s go,” I said unwrapping myself from his warm embrace. I tug at his hand eagerly, he quickly gathers the rest of his things and follows me into his room. I pull him in and quickly shut the door, i hear him drop his things and pushes me up against the door, “ready for the real round?” He said teasingly tugging at my shirt wanting me to take it off. I chuckled and kissed him on the lips, “oh I’m so am!” I said pushing him to his bed. We both laughed and enjoyed the rest of our night.

——————————————<3———————————

The next morning Noah’s mom woke up early to make the kids breakfast. She was walking into the living room noticing there’s still popcorn kernels and junk so she decides to clean it up. Once’s she got to the couch she sighed,”oh these kids leaving their messes and not cleaning it…up,” she stopped and saw a film. She picks it up and sees the most vile thing. She gasp and yells madly,”Noah!!” The whole house gotten woken up by her scream.

Noah wakes up and thinks shit.

Let’s just say Y/n and Noah were shamelessly embarrassed and forced to clean the whole house while Kris and Mrs.Diaz went out for breakfast.

——————————————<3———————————yeah so that was my attempt to write smut I really hope who ever is reading this likes it. If it disappoints you I am so sorry 💀😭 I was really going to continue this when they got to his room but my phone is legit not handling anything so well. So yeah tell me y’all think and if I should write anything else! 🤭

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. 

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. 

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children. 

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather. 

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

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Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[romanoffsdarling]

Time To Say (Goodbye)

Pairing: Daughter-in-Law!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s something that should have never started in the first place, something you should have stopped long ago. Why does something so wrong have to feel so right?

Word Count: 3,339

Warnings: G!P Wanda, cheating/infidelity, slight daddy kink, oral (R and Wanda receiving), possessive sex, angst. 18+, Minors DNI.

Author’s Note: Sorry if this is trash… I haven’t really written for G!P before.

“How did your date go?”

It’s an innocent question, borne out of genuine interest in your personal life, but you couldn’t stop the smallest of winces from flitting across your face. The feeling of burning eyes boring into the side of your head doesn’t help things, but you meet the gentle gaze of your daughter steadily, a wane smile curling your lips upward.

“It went fine,” you reply, placing your fork back down on the placemat. Lest she notice the shakiness of your hand. “I had a great time.”

“Will you be seeing him again?”

The husky voice, made even huskier by the accent slipping through the cracks, interrupts whatever your daughter had been about to say. A certain note of sharpness laid within it that you could pick out instantly, but your daughter seemed wholly unaware of. Instead, she offers you an encouraging smile too, clearly agreeing with her wife. Knowing that if you didn’t look at her, if you didn’t even try to create a semblance of normalcy, then your daughter, for all of her obliviousness, would pick up on something— that being the last thing you want.

Meeting darkened emerald with your own steady gaze is a test unto itself— staring into the eyes of Wanda Maximoff, your daughter’s wife, and answering a question about your dating life is one thing, but staring at the woman you’ve secretly been having an affair with?

An entirely different matter.

“I don’t know.” Honesty is the best possibility, right? Even though you think that scheme of rules had abandoned you long ago. “He was nice, but I don’t know if he’d want to see me again.”

Your daughter scoffs. “Please, he’d be an absolute idiot to not want to take you out again.” She shifts in her seat, gesturing towards her wife. “Right, Wanda?”

Wanda, who had been staring at you with an unreadable expression, seemingly softens, but you could see the war being waged within her eyes, as she smiles gently. “An absolute fool.” Emerald eyes trace over your face. “Only an imbecile would be able to let you go.”

You shift in your seat, well aware of the double nuance hidden within her words, but your daughter continues forward with the conversation, easily switching subjects to something that happened to her at work the previous week, and you’ve never been more relieved for a shift then right now.

Even though, as you begin to slowly finish your dinner, listening half heartedly to your daughters rambling, you could feel Wanda’s gaze still steadily boring into you. A heat building between the two of you that you know she wouldn’t let go of— no matter what.

You should have known that she’d corner you when your daughter was otherwise preoccupied upstairs, your own attention being on finishing up the dishes.

A warm body suddenly pressing you into the counter, heated lips tracing across your neck, almost makes you drop the plate in your grasp, but you’re able to steady yourself just enough to stop that inevitable disaster from occurring.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you went on a date?” The words are snarled against your pulse point, teeth digging into the sensitive flesh there. No doubt leaving a mark that’d you have for the next few days as a reminder. “That you let someone else ever think they’d be able to have you?”

A small sound escapes your throat before you can stop it. The feeling of Wanda pressed so firmly against your back: hands gripping your hips, a familiar bulge making its home against your ass, and the soothing tongue that’s gently lapping over yet another mark she had just made.

“Answer me,” she hisses, warm breath hot over the shell of your ear. “I want to know why the fuck you thought I’d ever let anyone else have you?”

You shake your head. “We can’t do this, Wanda. What we’ve been doing—” A gasp is wrenched from your lips when Wanda grinds her erection against you, her blatant need for you apparent. “It’s wrong. What we’re doing is wrong.”

Wanda huffs out a laugh. “That’s not what you were saying when I had you screaming on this very counter last weekend. In fact—” She steps closer, pulling you impossibly tighter against her body. “I think you wanted nothing more than for me to continue.”

Turning in her grasp, you’re soon face-to-face with Wanda’s smoldering gaze, the darkness from earlier making its appearance blatantly known. “My daughter, your wife, is upstairs right now.” You glance up, trying to hear any note of disturbance. Fortunately not finding any. “We can’t do this anymore, Wanda. I can’t keep betraying my daughter like this.”

“How many times have I told you that I’d divorce her for you? How many fucking times have I told you that I’m completely in love with you?” She steps forward, forehead pressing against your own, voice dropped to a heated whisper. “You’re the love of my life. No one, not even your daughter, will ever be able to compare.”

You flinch at the reminder of your child. “We’ve been over this. You love what I do for your body, Wanda. You don’t love me, I’m over a decade older than you, much more than that let’s be honest, and there’s nothing you can say that’ll change that fact.” You run a frazzled hand through your hair. “Why can’t you accept that?”

“Because you mean everything to me.”

“And she means everything to me.”

A snarl curls her lips upward, clearly displeased by the turn that this conversation had taken, but you’re well aware that Wanda wouldn’t simply let this be— that she wouldn’t just let you go. Not after everything you’ve been through together.

While you firmly believed that Wanda didn’t love you in the manner she said she did— however much it may cause your heart to flutter whenever she said it— you do believe that she felt a bone-deep attraction to you. That she craved you in the same exact way that you did for her.

Instinctually.

Carnally.

Like the very basis of your beings were meant to be united in an intrinsic way— hence the passionate love affair that you’ve been part of for the last two years.

“Get on your knees.” The command shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, not with how worked up Wanda clearly was, but you still couldn’t stem the shocked expression from making an appearance on your face. “You heard me, baby. I want you to get on your knees for me.”

“Wand—”

A snarl interrupts your rebuttal, surprisingly strong hands gripping your biceps in an iron hold. “No,” she hisses. “This is not the time to argue, this is not the time to make up fucking excuses on why we shouldn’t do this, we only have a little while left before she comes back down here. I’m not going to waste the time I have with you by fighting over something we clearly both want.” Wanda tugs at your arms, showing you clearly what she wants. “Get on your knees. Now.”

Knowing that there’s no use in denying her any further, not with the way your own arousal is currently painting you thighs beneath your dress, you follow her command, eliciting a contented sigh from her. With slightly shaking hands, you quickly make work of both her belt and shimmy her tights jeans down her legs, instantly being met by her hard length.

“Come on, baby,” Wanda coos, threading her fingers through the strands of your hair. “You know what I want.”

Without preamble, or any form of warning, you take Wanda completely into your mouth— from tip until your nose brushes across her pubic bone— delighting in the harsh gasp she lets out, the hand not in your hair steadying herself on the counter behind you. The taste of Wanda, her familiar scent, entrances you completely, surrounding you wholeheartedly. Bobbing up and down, mindful to keep your lips completely sealed to deter any possible noise from escaping, the feeling of Wanda stretching out your throat due to her girth is a heady drug you’ve grown addicted to.

“Fuck,” Wanda curses, hands tightening in your hair. Dragging you up and down her cock, forcing herself further into the back of your throat. “You’re doing so good, baby. Taking me so well. Better than anyone ever has.”

Your nails dig into the backs of her thighs, tongue lashing across the sensitive head, tasting the pre-cum that’s been steadily escaping since you started, the familiar salty, and somehow slightly sweet, flavor making you suck even harder. The action causes Wanda’s hips to jerk harshly, gagging you due to how deep her cock goes, but only a filthy groan is what she gives you in form of an apology— darkened emerald eyes watching you with rapt attention.

Feeling the way she’s beginning to jerk, the way that her hips were beginning to stutter in their momentum, causes you to become aware of how close she is to cumming. Which is why, when Wanda pulls out of your mouth entirely, a small hiss leaving her lips due to the difference in temperature, you’re fairly confused.

With a hand on your neck, Wanda drags you upward, lips descending to filthily meet yours in a twisted embrace. Her tongue meeting yours in a tangle, getting reacquainted with one another, before her teeth nips at your bottom lip when she pulls away. A thin trail of saliva connects you both, so close to one another you weren’t even sure whose air you were breathing anymore.

“You’re so perfect for me,” Wanda murmurs, slender fingers trailing down you face. “The perfect girl for daddy.”

Your thighs clench together at the nickname— one that isn’t used often, as you’re still embarrassed by it at times, but you’ve slowly come to terms with it, how hot it makes Wanda feel, and the erotic thrill it sends down your spine whenever you utter it in the heat of passion.

Wanda’s hands snake down to the back of your legs, placing you so you’re seated on the cold, marble countertop, dark emerald eyes tracing over the expanse of exposed skin that’s at her disposal. Hiking up your dress until it’s situated around your waist, Wanda drinks in the sight of your bare legs, until they settle on her prize. A heated expression taking over the briefly surprised one.

“Not wearing any panties, baby?” A slender finger trials down your slit, parting your folds and barely dipping into the wetness she finds there. “Naughty girl.”

“Only for you.”

A wordless cry is ripped from your throat when Wanda descends onto your clit with a ravenous hunter, tongue lashing against the bundle of sensitive nerves. Drinking you in as if you were her favorite drink, hands making sure you were kept wide open for her. When she lowers herself further, giving her the perfect angle to dip her tongue into your opening, a small keen escapes you. Brief panic settling within your chest as it echoes across the kitchen— not that it stops Wanda in the slightest. In fact, at the confirmation that she was making you feel good, she sped up her movements. Working further and further into your tunnel, small noises of her own, muffled by your cunt, showcasing how affected she is by your taste and the feel of you.

Your climax washes over you quickly, both by how long it’s been since she’s touched you, and the fervency in which she’s currently doing so. Barely being able slap a hand over your mouth before you scream out your release, gushing into Wanda’s waiting mouth, hips flexing and bucking against her solid hold, you feel the tremors make their way down your spine, sending a pleasant chill through you.

Wanda only pulls away once she’s helped you through the aftershocks, face slick with your wetness, but the familiar fire once again scorches you through you at the look she levels you with.

“I need to have you,” Wanda murmurs, standing to settle between your still parted legs. Her cock, that looks almost painfully hard, resting against you, rubbing slightly against your clit, as she situates herself. “We don’t have a lot of time left. Not enough for me to worship you the way you deserve to be worshiped.” She looks almost put out by that. “But, I’m still going to fuck you in a way that only I will ever be able to replicate. Make you mine in the way that you’ve made me yours. Think you can handle that, baby?”

As an answer, you loosely wrap your arms around her neck, tugging her into a brief kiss. You’re well aware you didn’t have enough time left, that idle chitchat would only shave it sway, which is something Wanda seems to register at last. Within the next moment, she’s buried to the hilt in you, your walls stretching to accommodate the familiar length. Tucking your head into her neck, to muffle some of your moans as Wanda begins to thrust, you grapple at her back, nails digging into the leather of her jacket, as Wanda seems to lose herself in the feel of you.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh permeates the air, an occasional grunt or moan intercepting it, and you’d normally be concerned by how much noise you’re making, especially since your daughter is still in the house, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when Wanda fills you so completely, when she plays your body like her favorite instrument.

“Keep fucking me, baby,” you whine, grappling her shoulders, a small tremor making itself known. “I’m so close.”

You were drunk on pleasure as Wanda kept driving her hips forward, one slender finger roughly rubbing your clit in time with each thrust. It’s of no surprise that you find your release quickly after, gushing over Wanda’s cock.

Something that causes her to groan, no doubt feeling the way your inner walls began to constrict around her, trying to milk her for everything she’s worth.

“I’m not going to last much longer, baby,” Wanda gasps, lowering her head to your shoulder. Hips flexing as she tries to stem her climax to extend her pleasure just a bit more, to keep feeling you for just a bit longer. “Going to fill you up.”

With a stuttering thrust, a sharp groan escaping her, Wanda bites down onto the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck, as her climax hits her— jets of her cum painting your inner walls white, warming you up.

Once her own shuddering dies down, when she’s resting limply against your body, your hands gently tracing down her still quivering back, does her voice finally break the silence between you. “I don’t know if I can give this up.” She pulls you back, emerald eyes pleading with you. “I don’t know if I can give you up.”

A bitter smile twists your lips upward, the reminder that Wanda wasn’t truly yours, and that you weren’t truly hers, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“It’ll be best for everyone,” you reply, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ears. Heart cracking at the way she leans into the gentle touch. “You owe it to yourself, and my daughter, to try and make your marriage work.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“It will.” It’s an affirmation, one you didn’t particularly put your entire heart behind. Something you didn’t want to dwell too much on. “Anyone would be lucky to have you, Wanda.”

Tears gather in emerald eyes eyes, her head dropping to rest against your chest, as sadness swells between the both of you.

“The only person I want to have me is you.”

You press a kiss to the top of her head, closing your eyes to abate your own tears. “I know.”

“Are you going to come up and visit us during the holidays, mom?”

Your daughter’s hopeful face twists the knife deeper into your heart, but you offer her a gentle smile in return.

“If my schedule allows for it.” You open your arms to accept the final hug she wanted to give you, thankful that you had half a mind to clean yourself up further after you tryst in the kitchen. “I’d love to come visit, you know that.”

At her happy squeal, she finally detached from you, shifting to fully stand on the other side of your doorway, where Wanda had been silently waiting for the last ten minutes, emerald eyes never straying far from you, and you offer her one last smile.

“Drive safe you two,” you warn, what you hope is a good natured expression on your face. “I want you two to be intact when I see you next.”

Your daughter laughs brightly at that, already moving to unload all of her bags in the car, leaving just you and Wanda standing on the porch. A tension falling between you two instantly.

“It was nice to see you, Wanda,” you say, trying to be diplomatic about this entire thing. “I hope the journey back won’t be too long.”

Wanda’s lips thin. “Don’t—” She turns to look back, making sure your daughter is still getting situated in the car. “Don’t treat me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re saying goodbye.”

You shake your head, a bitter feeling welling within your chest. “Aren’t I?” At the clear look that she’s about to rebuke your statement, you continue. “We’ve both agreed that you need to work on your marriage, Wanda. That you need to try and fix what’s been broken. To do that you can’t see me, and I can’t see you. It’d only end us right back where we started.”

“No,” Wanda hisses, making sure to keep her voice low. “I can’t not talk to you, can’t not see you, I won’t be able to survive.”

Your hand twitches at your side, wanting nothing more than to reach out and caress her cheek. Take away the anguish, the grief, that’s slowly settling over her beautiful face. “You’ll have to, Wanda. For the time being you’ll have to.” Taking a step back, deeper into the house, you almost sob at Wanda’s innate need to follow you. “We’ll see each other again. Once we’ve gotten one another out of our systems, once we’ve learned to be near one another without being together, we’ll see one another again.”

Wanda’s anguish is palpable to you, the pain shown so clearly within her emerald eyes, but you can’t back down. Not from this, not when you’ve finally found the strength to do what you should have done from the start.

The honking of the car in your driveway pulls your attention from her to your daughter’s impatient face. “You have to go.” You don’t turn back to her, knowing that if you saw her pain again you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. “You have a long drive ahead of you.”

There’s a brief best of silence, wherein Wanda clearly waits for you to look at her, to do something, but you can’t. Not now. So, after another moment, she makes a noise low in her throat, almost like a wounded animal, and barely mutters out. “Goodbye.”

Something begins to rot in your chest, but you only allow a sad smile to twist your lips.

“Goodbye, Wanda.”

And, with that, she steps away from you, getting into the car, and driving off, disappearing down the road and out of your life for the foreseeable future. It’s only once you’re sure they’re gone, when you’re safely hidden behind the closed and locked door of your house, that you allow the tears to come, for your own anguish and grief to come to the surface.

You know what you did was the right thing. That it’d be better for yourself and Wanda for the long run, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Nor did it stop you from wishing that she’d come back.

[melrodrigo]

The Other Side Of The Door - V.C.

Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vada’s been a questionable girlfriend lately, and you’ve decided you’ve had enough.

Warnings: Angst, Vada is kinda toxic in this, mentions of drinking

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Inspired by TOSOTD by miss t-swizzle herself. I hope u angst monsters r happy, I don’t write angst very often. Also! Did not proofread this, sorry bout that

“Leave.” You say, face stoney and eyes narrowed. You ignore the voice inside of you that says this is a terrible idea.

Your girlfriend blinks back at you, taken aback by the venom in your voice.

Her expression changes from happy to crestfallen in a second, and it takes everything in you to not immediately take back what you’ve just said.

“What is this about?” She asks, eyes wide.

The minute your girlfriend had waltzed into your room, whistling to her favorite Juice Wrld song, she had been met with the sight of you sitting on your bed, arms crossed.

“What is this about? Are you kidding, Vada?” You seethe, too pissed to have any sort of filter anymore.

She gulps.

“How about it’s about the countless times I’ve had to drag you back home because you were drunk shitless, doing god knows what with god knows who, without any explanation whatsoever.” You’re standing up now, sizing Vada up.

“It’s about the amount of times you’ve ignored me this whole week, never answering texts, never picking up my calls. Am I even your girlfriend anymore?” You press, rambling as if everything that’s been pent up inside you for weeks stars spilling out all at once.

Your girlfriend pales as you monologue, eyes darting to lock on anything but your face.

“But-“ She opens her mouth and closes it a couple times, searching for something to say.

You cut her off quickly. Unwillingly to let her have any say in this.

“Quite frankly, I’ve had enough. So if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to leave.” You tell her, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes are starting to water.

She’s as still as a statue for a good minute or two, contemplating what she wants to do. You can practically see the cogs turning in her brain.

One more glare from you has her rushing out your room and downstairs. You can’t help the pang in your chest as you watch her leave. After everything, you still want her to stay.

Stupid girl and the grip she has on me.

Nothing quells your bad mood for the rest of the night. You spend dinner shooting back one word responses to your mom’s inquiries, irritable.

You tuck yourself into bed, check your phone for a message from anyone—okay, maybe you wanted to see if Vada had said anything, but nothing. You huff and pull the sheets over your body, closing your eyes shut and forcing sleep to have its way with you.

-

Somehow, in the morning, you wake up even more annoyed. Whenever you’ve had fights with Vada before, the morning after she’d be all over you; begging for forgiveness and blowing up your phone.

You’re ashamed to admit you like the attention.

Today, nothing. Not a single call or text from your normally oh so talkative girlfriend.

As the day goes on, you start feeling mournful. Regret courses deep through you. You sit and stew in your feelings until you can’t think of anything else.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said all that.

It’s a sad Sunday that’s spent with you staring at cute photographs you’d taken with her months prior, and jumping at the sound of any notification. It’s pathetic, but you need her. You don’t remember how long it’s been since you and Vada have had a day apart.

You’re stuck. You miss her so much, but your stupid pride won’t allow you to text first, or to go find her, because what would you even do? You’d been the one to apologize first too many times. This time, you decide it’s going to be up to Vada.

You sleuth around for the rest of your Sunday. When you finish dinner and storm to your room, your turmoil has turned into spite.

“If you don’t call in the next 5 minutes I swear I’m breaking up with you.” You hiss to the phone, staring intently at Vada’s profile picture, as if she’s just going to pop out of the phone by sheer will of you wanting her there.

After a minute of this, you set the phone down and take a deep breath. You turn your phone on do not disturb and pick up a book. All this drama has you feeling like you need to reconnect with nature a bit.

It’s a book Vada herself had recommended you, which was funny, since your girlfriend barely read shit. You hate to admit she has good taste. You glide through the pages easily, happy for a distraction.

Minutes turn into hours, and before long, you notice that the light is starting to dim down and the sun is starting to set. You also hear the tiny pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof.

You get up and walk to your window, face still buried in your book, and gently ease it open, hoping to find some comfort in the fresh air and smell of wet grass.

What you get is not that. A pebble, the size of your pinky comes hurling, too fast for even your reflexes to react.

It hits you smack dab in the face, making you loosen your grip on the book and dropping it. You groan, rubbing the part of your nose that stings. You hear a tiny oh shit below you and you peer out your window so fast it gives you whiplash.

The sight of Vada standing in the rain, her hair messy and her bike discarded on your tiny front yard brings out a lot of mixed emotions in you.

Finally. Goddamn, finally.

She looks sheepish as she speaks. “I’m sorry!” She squeaks. “I didn’t mean to hit you- I swear. I was just trying to do one of those huge romantic gestures where the guy gets the girls attention by throwing pebbles at her window ya know? But it ended up being kinda fun and I didn’t see you when I threw that one-“ She says, speaking so fast you can barely understand her.

When you don’t answer, it’s almost like Vada remembers what she came here for. She straightens up, wiping her palms on her loose graphic tee.

“I’m sorry. I really am. If you would hear me out, I’ll explain everything. I promise. I’m sorry for not coming to my senses earlier, and I’m sorry for not paying you enough attention. I love you, I’m in love with you; you know that. More than anything.” She yells, almost screams so you can hear her clearly.

You feel your walls crumble immediately. How were you going to deny your sweet, loving, albeit sort of confusing girlfriend of your love? It was no use. She always wins when it comes to you.

You sigh.

Vada waits patiently, shifting on her feet and shivering slightly from the cold.

You gesture for her to come in with your hand, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at the joy that sparks across her face immediately.

She sprints in, saying a quick hello to your mom- who probably heard everything, and runs up the stairs, practically tackling you onto your own bedroom floor.

She’s soaked, and you can already feel the water seeping through your own shirt, but you don’t care. Vada’s wrapped herself tight around you, like a baby koala. She’s trembling slightly, and you notice she’s crying.

You place your hand on top of her head, rubbing gently. You murmur sweet nothings into her ear.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes all red and puffy. She looks so pretty like this.

“I missed you so much.” She gushes.

You grin lazily, happy to have your girlfriend back in your arms.

“I missed you too, baby.”

[meanbossart]

Just thinking thoughts about Orin and Drow lore, and idk if this has been asked already, but

If Orin had just disappeared for like a year, not even Sceleritas could find her, with how obsessive pre-tadpole Drow was how would he handle that? Aside from being prideful and murdery, I don’t remember in the pre-tadpole Drow lore about any instance (after he made it to the temple) of him expressing anything else. Did the two ever have a wholesome moment?

Hmmmm not wholesome, no. I'm sorry to disappoint people who might wanted to see a more explicitly vulnerable side to both of them at that stage in their lives, but that's just not... How I envision things. I don't think anyone born into the temple would have had much room to express themselves in the way average people do.

What they did have was an undeniable connection and mutual understanding. This lasted for about 7 years, so between ages 18-25 for DU drow. (Canonically he's currently 28, give or take). I think that, sometimes, they also silently understood among themselves that things weren't always fair or good.

This might sound like a whole load of nothing to some people, but based on the culture within the cult, Orin's story, and the behavior of everyone involved in it, it seems huge to me that two people who were essentially groomed to be the embodiment of murder would harbor any kind of care for one another, even if it was subtle. The fact that they could share a bed, talk shit about Sarevok, and seamlessly work together and share in the glory of their deeds as equals is what intimacy looked like for them - before DU drow's ego (and the very need of a more explicitly intimate connection with someone, to be fair) got to his head.

They killed together, they rolled around in blood together, they bickered and fought and one time Orin stabbed him in the gut and DU drow punched her jaw out of it's socket. Then they flopped down on the ground and cackled about it while Sceleritas rushed in to stop the bleeding. Is that wholesome? I think for deified bhaalspawn who know nothing but that life it's the closest it gets.

There had to have been quiet moments I'm sure. Like Orin waiting around while DU drow got ready to go somewhere, him adjusting her headpiece, Orin slicing her brother's long hair off when he first arrived and looked like some sort of sinewy wood's creature. At night, they probably laid in bed in silence and sometimes stared at each other until either fell asleep.

I am very interested in not inventing an obscured, soft side to Orin that we didn't get to see, you know? While she wasn't always the level of manic we see in-game, she was completely unfit to function normally due to her upbringing, and this reflects in her relationships. DU drow is also undeniably emotionally stunted, just in a slightly different way.

I got off rambling to no one's surprise LOL but to answer the first part of your question - I don't think he would have been quite as dramatic about Orin just up and vanishing, as there's no explicit suggestion of death in that. He would have been insufferable to be around for a while, but in that scenario I could see his duties keeping him busy.

Not to mention that, while through death, she would be leaving him unwillingly - disappearing with no trace implies the uncomfortable possibility that she truly, honestly, just didn't want to be around him. That allows room for contempt and bitterness to fester until you wrongly convince yourself there was never any love there at all, even if just to soothe your own conscience.

He would have just become a much, much worse person that way in the sense that he would have nothing to focus on besides for his lord's will - as horrific as his attitude towards Orin was, it is very much a human feature to desperately cling to connection. With Orin around, he had a little bit of fucked up tenderness and love in him - it was a personal desire completely separate from his "job", a vestige of free-will. Without her, he just has Bhaal and whatever Bhaal wants.

Orin has always unwittingly anchored him, and then, later freed him. And he never ever deserved any of it.

🤷

[silverstonesainz]

insatiable

─── the one where carlos can't seem to get enough frat!carlos x reader 2.6k words 18+, minors dni (warnings under the cut)

d rambles. . . once again. i have lost the plot. i got the word insatiable and this is where we ended up. hope u guys like it, and sorry it took so long.

warning(s). . . dry humping & a bit of titties. this is pretty tamed for what it could be

carlos is annoying. he might be across the room, but somehow he still manages to set your every nerve on fire. and the worst part of all this is that you can’t be annoyed. 

how can you be annoyed that he’s basically chest to chest with some girl when you’re wrapped up in someone else. mark, you think is his name. you aren’t even sure. he yelled it in your ear when he was chatting you up but if you were being honest, you only indulged because you wanted to prove a point: you can play his game too.

“do you want another drink?” mark— god you hope his name is mark— asks, thumb rubbing your side. 

you feign a sweet smile, shaking your head. “no i’m good. i have to head home soon anyways.”

the boy chuckles, “you can always spend the night… i do have a room here.” 

you laugh, maybe a little too hard from the way the boy’s face contorts to one of embarrassment. you shake your head, patting his chest as you slyly pull yourself from his hold. you set your empty solo cup on the messy bar top before turning to him, “i’d rather be caught dead than to sleep at a frat house.” 

mark nods, sipping his drink. the house is quiet, the kickback dwindling down as people begin to turn in. lando continues to play his mix, the led lights paint the room different colors, and the party seems to continue even if people were attached to the ends of the room in conversation or being led upstairs. you want to turn in, god your eyes burn with exhaustion, but your pride and ego coax you to stay. you just want to see if carlos would bring the girl up to his room. 

he has every right to. why wouldn’t he do it? she’s pretty and he’s… he’s not yours. 

that’s a point you both made the morning after a silly hook-up. just sex, nothing more. it’s why you leave after all is said and done, why you don’t take him up for coffee, or even sit with him in the library to study. it’s just sex, nothing more. 

you try to remind yourself that as you watch carlos lean down to say something in the girl’s ear, watch as the girl laughs a little too loudly. you roll your eyes. he’s not even that funny. 

“you plan on leaving anytime soon?” your head snaps back towards the boy, shaking your head to answer his question. “well maybe i can entertain you elsewhere while you’re here.” 

before you can answer, you feel an arm sling over your shoulder. you look up to find alex, who doesn’t pay you any mind and directs his attention to the boy in front of you. 

“george is looking for ya matt.” oh… it’s matt. “upstairs.” 

the boy stares up at the older brother, nodding. “uh.. yeah right. i’ll see you around.” he says to you. you smile curtly, watching as the boy scurries away and disappears up the stairs. 

alex pulls his hand from your shoulder, chuckling softly, “now tell me why you were chatting up the pledges. you know you’re way out of their league.” 

“just bored.” you shrug, arms crossed over your chest. you take a peek behind alex’s tall frame, frowning to find that carlos and the girl has disappeared. you huff a sigh, “i’m gonna go. i have an early morning.” 

alex nods, “i’ll walk you out.” 

you do your rounds, say goodbye to friends and other familiar faces. alex follows you, nearly to the door, before he’s whisked to the mystery that goes on upstairs. you don’t mind though, making your way out the door and shutting it behind you. you stuff your hands in your pockets as you make your way to your car.

“you know, it’s a bit rude not to say bye before you leave.” 

you turn around, taking a few steps backwards before coming to a stop. you stand at the end of the walkway, watching as carlos messes with his hair as he makes his way down to you. you roll your eyes, repositioning your arms to cross your chest. “you seemed a bit… occupied.” 

he chuckles at the way you say it, like it’s sour on your tongue. “celosa?”

“no.” you hum, pulling out your phone to order an uber. “so where is your new friend?” 

carlos reaches out to you, hand swiping your phone from your grasp before taking a peek at your screen. “she’s not my friend.”

“so girlfriend then?” he shakes his head. “fuck buddies?” he scowls.

“she’s no one. why are you ordering an uber, i can just drive you home.” 

“don’t you live here?” “and?”

you bite down on your lip. on the one hand, you’d be saving a bit of cash and yourself an awkward car ride home at two in the morning. but on the other hand, you’re still annoyed with carlos. but the boy doesn’t give you the chance to ponder your options, pulling out his car keys from his back pocket and clicking the dark blue ferrari unlocked. it’s parked a couple cars ahead of the driveway, between alex george’s own. carlos hand you your phone back with a soft c’mon. you inhale sharply, taking the phone from his grasp and stuff it back into your jacket pocket. 

he opens the passenger door for you, shuts it, before running over to his side and turning on his car. the car ride was… well it wasn’t comfortable. you didn’t intend on picking up a conversation with your— with him— the image of him and that girl still fresh in your mind. truth be told, you’re a little more frustrated with yourself than you are with him, because you know what being with carlos means: it means not really being with him at all. it means being with him when he’s in the mood to be with you. and you can lie to yourself and say that it’s fine, that you can live that arrangement. and maybe in the beginning you could but now you find yourself slipping. drowning. 

but carlos doesn’t like the quiet tonight. 

“so you and matt?” 

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “what about it?”

“when did that happen?” “what’s it matter to you?” 

carlos’s head snaps in your direction for the briefest of moments. you see him in your peripheral, the way his head flicks up and down in the short second he stares at you before returning his gaze to the road. “just a question.” 

he makes a turn towards your apartment, and you’d never been so relieved to see home. but then he stops. carlos parks against the curb and turns off his lights. you scowl, fingers curling into your palm. “carlos.” 

“why are you upset?” “i’m not.” 

he raises his brow at you, and your narrow your eyes at him. “i know you. you are.” 

“okay and if i am?” you snap. “it doesn’t matter.” 

he scoffs, “of course it matters.” 

you almost let him fool you. almost believe that he cares more than he lets on. almost. 

you huff an annoyed breath, zipping your jacket all the way. “i’m gonna walk.” 

“oh for fucks sake,” he leans over you, pulls the cracked open door and shuts it. “you’re not being fair.” 

“carlos i want to go home.” 

you glare at him. the anger bubbles in your chest when you clock the calm expression on his face, his wide brown eyes scanning your features before his hand comes up to rub his face. he says your name so softly, so gently, says it in a way you long to hear it forever. 

“we were just talking.” he’s referring to the girl. your glare falls, gaze moving to the denim that hugs your thighs. “ai mi bichito, its wasn’t anything.” 

“it never is.” 

“because it’s not.” carlos tucks his index finger under your chin, pulls your eyes back to him. “don’t be upset with me bug.” he leans in, his cologne filling your senses as you he presses his lips to your cheek. “okay?” another kiss, then again to your jaw. “please?” 

the butterflies come alive in your stomach, makes you nervous as carlos continues to move along your jaw and down to your neck. he readjusts his hand, his fingers now combing through the hair on the side of your head to hold you closer to him. he hums your name against your skin before he places another wet kiss on your neck. another plea to stop being upset as he pulls the silver zipper down your jacket and popping it open. 

he pulls away, leaving you high and empty. you inhale, suddenly remembering to breathe. carlos’s thumb strokes your cheek, the pad of his thumb rough against your skin, while his wide eyes plead for some sort of forgiveness. and you should walk home. thank him for the ride and walk away. 

but instead you close the gap, lips crashing against his. the kiss is hot, feverish, needy. it’s teeth clashing while hungry hands pull the other closer than allowed. his fingers weave themselves into your hair while yours are desperately grabbing at the back of his head. you moan softly as carlos bites down on your bottom lip, tongue slipping into your mouth. warm, wet, bold as it dances along with yours. 

“too far.” he breaks the kiss to pull you over the middle and onto his lap. his lips are quick to reattach themselves back on your neck, hands pushing your jacket down your shoulders and off your arms, leaving you in a black cotton tank-top. 

you’re sure that you’ll have a reminder of your weakness later, but it was too good to stop. you enjoyed the grazing of his teeth, the way he pulls away to lick along your skin before sucking again. you hum, grounding your hips into his. carlos hisses, hands moving to grip your hips to a halt. 

“don’t start something you can’t finish baby.” 

you smirk, “you doubt me?”

a pause. just a beat of silence before he laughs, shaking his head, “never.” 

you smile, dipping your head to meet his lips. your hands cup his cheeks as you kiss him deeply. he releases your hips, allowing your to rock against him. he grows hard beneath you, hear him grunt as you speed up the motion. he detaches his lips from yours, moving to your collarbones. you feel his fingers dance along the skin of your shoulders, pulling the flimsy straps of your top and bra down. he pulls and pulls and his lips chase the neck line of your shirt until your breast spill out. the cold air of his ferrari sends a shiver up your spine, hardens your nipples. 

carlos bites down on his lip, eyes bright as he stares at your chest. “pretty tits.” 

you bite the inside of your cheek, watching expectantly as he beings to squeeze them in his hands. he massages, kneads, before pulling one into his mouth. he looks up at you while you feel his mouth around you. his tongue traces circles lightly around your bud, flicking it up and down before sucking. his opposite hand pays equal attention to your other tit, pulling and kneading, fingers rubbing your nipple before pinching lightly. 

you throw your head back, moving your hips faster, desperate to chase a kind of pleasure you’re not even sure you can achieve. your legs were beginning to ache and your jeans were beginning to hurt. but the pleasure, his fucking mouth, outweighs the discomfort. 

he bites down on your nipple, make you help. he chuckles against you, kissing your breast before switching to the other one. sucks and sucks, before he pulls away and kisses along the supple skin. he sucks, leaves marks that would surely bruise within the hour. you look back down, watch him with his eyes squeezed shut as he marks your delicate skin. 

“need you” he mumbles. “want you.” 

he releases you, leans back to watch you move against him as he reaches down to pull his shirt over his head. and in the midst of it all, you see it. the purple bruise below his collarbone. a hickey, one you know you didn’t leave for him. its a shot to your ego, makes you uncomfortable in the moment and sucks all the fun you were just having. 

“i-“ you choke up on your words, swallow tightly as you clear your throat, “i can’t.” 

carlos pulls his shirt off, brows furrowed. “what’s wrong?” 

you pull the straps of your bra and top back onto your shoulders, reaching over for your jacket. “nothing. nothing just… i can’t. not in your car.” 

carlos watches you pull yourself together on his lap, pulling your jacket back onto your shoulders. he looks confused, stares as he tries to guess why your mood has suddenly shifted. you look back up at him, the stupid thing on his chest staring right back at you. you smile thinly, lips pressed together tightly. 

“well can i come up?” 

you shake your head, “early morning. but next time… i’ll ah… i’ll make it up to you.” 

against better judgement, against the voices screaming in your head to run, you lean down to press a soft kiss against his lips. you try to leave things open, to give him a bit of relief that everything was okay even if it really isn’t. and maybe even to as a way to ensure that you could still return to him when your feelings are no longer hurt. 

how fucking pathetic. 

carlos holds onto the back of your head to kiss you for a moment longer than you intend. then he releases  you. “let me just drive you.” 

“it’s fine. i cant walk, it isn’t far.” 

“i’m not gonna let you walk alone at almost 3AM. if you won’t let me drive you, then i’ll walk with you.” 

you sigh, nodding as you breathe a reluctant okay fine. you open the driver door, climbing off his lap and out of the car. cold air kisses your warm skin as you stand there, waiting for carlos to climb out of the car. you both walk the short distance to front door of your complex. you hum, digging for the keys in your pocket before looking up at him.

“thank you for the ride.” 

carlos nods, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your hear. “of course… so when am i gonna see you again.” 

his phone rings before you can answer. he picks it up, and you catch a glimpse of the screen before he pulls it towards him. mindy. mindy, at three in the fucking morning. 

carlos presses on the power button, ending the call before looking back up at you. “i’ll see you tomorrow?” 

you chuckle dryly, shrugging, “busy tomorrow.” 

“okay so thursday?” 

“i dunno.” 

“friday?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “god, you’re insatiable.” 

he smiles, its wide. so wide you see the small dimples above his upper lip, so wide his cheeks round out and eyes squint ever so slightly. “only when it comes to you.” 

you rock on your feet. heel to toe. heel to toe. you almost forget. the girl. the hickey. mindy. he smiles, says shit like that and you almost forget that he’s not yours. 

but he isn’t that girl’s. he’s not mindy’s. he’s not anyone else’s. 

and maybe you could live with that for just a little longer before it crushes you. 

“i’ll call you.” you reassure him. stupidly reassure him. 

he nods, leaning down to press a soft kiss on your lips. “okay. text when you get in.” you nod, kissing him once more and he smiles. “goodnight mi bichito.” 

you smile, allow the flutter in your stomach to warm you up and wrap up your wounded ego. “goodnight carlos.” 

come to the house party!!

[streamingcolors-gvf]

Skin Deep - Part 8

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!reader x Jake Kiszka

Word Count: 14k

A/N: This took forever. I’m so sorry, guys. I really struggled with repetition in this one so I apologize in advance for that. Hope y’all enjoy! (Also this is pretty filthy so 👀)

As always, I love and appreciate all the support and feedback ❤️

Special shoutout to my lovely girls Nessa and Hannah for carrying my ass through this chapter. I wouldn’t have been able to get it done without them.

Warnings: cursing, drug use (marijuana), smoking, angst, sexually explicit content - MINORS DNI! 18+ (oral f!receiving, oral m!receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, edging, dirty talk, breeding kink, public sex, somnophilia - scene has been edited out

Masterpost

“I think we need to have a serious conversation.”

You release your arms from him as if the surface of his skin is scorching hot to the touch. Your vision blurs, making it feel like you have blinders on — tunnel vision. The entire world you’ve been blissfully living in for the past hour shrinks to the size of his bedroom in a matter of seconds. That high, the euphoria, the oxytocin surging through your veins has been sucked away as soon as the words left his mouth. It tightens in your chest like a vice grip, turning your stomach sour with regret. You’re not sure what scares you more, him being upset with you, or your visceral reaction to it. With a flick of his lighter, he takes a heavy hit while you sit on the bed behind him still as a statue. 

Things have been left unresolved since that afternoon at the tattoo shop, and sex clearly didn’t keep it swept under the rug for very long. This issue between the two of you weighs you down, keeping your body fused to the mattress. 

“Okay,” you finally mutter out a meek response as he blows the cloud of smoke above his head. He stays silent for far too long, leaving you to stare at the muscles of his back — each petal of his inked mandala — contracting with each breath he takes.

His head falls from his tense shoulders, and he disrupts the uncomfortable quiet by sending his words to the floor between his feet, “Do you just want to fuck Jake?”

The distant sound of his voice causes the guilt to swell like an overinflated balloon in your chest. You haven’t done your best to convince him of different intentions, and while the question itself seems within reason given the circumstances, it takes you by surprise nonetheless. “What?”

A defeated sigh tumbles out from his chest before he answers you in a tightly wound tone, “If you don’t want to keep fooling around with me anymore, that’s okay.”

“No!” You blurt out, panicked that you’ve torched whatever this is and that all you’ll be left with is extinguished embers. “No. Wait…what?” You dip your knee into the mattress to move closer to him. You shake the thoughts swirling around in your head for a coherent explanation. “Listen, Josh, I’m sorry for how that went down in there. I didn’t think Jake was going to say all of that and—”

The razor-sharp edge to his voice cuts off your desperate rambling, “I didn’t fuck that woman.”

He’s slammed a proverbial door into your face. It causes you to shrink in on yourself, making you accept that you haven’t been fair to him. You haven’t been transparent, even if you don’t exactly know what you’re supposed to be honest about. Your voice weakens just merely above a whisper, “I know… I’m not sure why I said those things. I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t respond to your apology. Instead, he fiddles with the glass bowl of his bong, giving away that he’s just as anxious and uncomfortable. You dare another touch his back, but this time he relaxes to the feeling of your fingers. It’s the subtle reassurance you need for you to add, “I liked the flowers by the way.”

He peers over his shoulder enough to see you in his periphery. “You did?”

Your fingers slip into the fallen curls at the nape of his neck.“Yeah. They’re beautiful. I have them sitting on my table in my apartment.”

“I’m glad.” He smiles, but it fails in comparison to what it normally is. He stands and sets the glass piece on his dresser. There’s tension in his rigid movements like he has something else weighing on his mind. 

You watch his unnatural demeanor, beckoning him to look into your eyes again. He avoids them by casting his own to the floor, making it feel as though you’re an intruder. It’s hard to ignore, like the grating hum of electricity through a poorly wired outlet. You decide to shimmy toward the side of the bed and ask, “Should I go?”

You mentally prepare yourself for his answer the best you can while he brings his gaze back to you. “No. I want you to stay.” The words are not as believable for you as they should be, and from the look on his face alone, he knows they’re not convincing enough either. Before you can make another move, he rushes to crawl back onto the bed to sit before you. “Really.”

He places a hand on your bare knee and that’s when you notice the red marks around his wrist from where the handcuffs rubbed his skin. You gasp, taking his hand to inspect them closer, “Oh my god, Josh! Are you okay?”

He glances down at them like you’re pointing it out to him for the first time. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You rub your thumb over the tender skin apologetically. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put those on you.”

He laughs, giving you a sense of relief now that the tension is starting to finally break, “Don’t be sorry, baby. I liked it, actually.”

You quirk your brow. “You did?”

He watches you massage his wrist and shrugs, answering matter-of-factly, “Yeah, but I probably would have liked it a lot more if it was just the two of us.”

He slips his hand away from you only to lean forward into a kiss. You instinctively fall backward as he moves, laying across the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. “I’ll make a note of that.”

“Good. Add it to the list,” he hums, smiling into the kiss as his lips meet yours. His movements are soft and gentle — far more affectionate than the ones you had shared minutes prior. 

Before the kiss has a chance to deepen, he breaks away to say, “Lay with me for a while.” There’s a vulnerability in his request that makes you ache from the need to comfort him. You answer by lifting your dress over your head and reaching out for him. 

He lowers himself with your guiding pull until his head rests against your bare chest. You cradle him in your arms while he wraps his own around your waist. His body fits along yours seamlessly, and within seconds, his tight muscles begin to loosen. You lay in silence, listening to his rhythmic breaths as you draw shapes on his back with calming caresses of your fingertips.

Minutes go by, perhaps even hours without a single word spoken between you. Exhaustion is setting in and it doesn’t take long for the ever-changing patterns traced along the muscles of his shoulder to lull him to sleep. Soft snores flutter across your chest and as you run your fingernails lightly over his scalp, sleep coaxes you in as well. 

The Sandman had been a little heavy-handed last night, keeping your eyes sealed with sleep. You exist within the realms of your dream and reality, lucid enough to be aware of Josh shifting his weight beside you. You don’t react to the dips of the mattress, letting the luxury cotton sheets swim across your naked skin as he settles between your legs. 

You feel his warmth before his lips make contact with the top of your thigh. It’s a careful kiss, testing whether it's enough to wake you. You hum, permitting him to shower your legs with those barely-there kisses, so faint you wonder if you’re imagining them. That’s until he starts to suck his mark on the thin flesh of your inner thigh, dragging you into consciousness once again.  

Your hips writhe as a sleepy groan rumbles in your throat. The tempting heat of his breath tickles you, making you spread yourself for him without a second thought. 

You peek through your stubborn eyelids, mumbling while your eyes struggle to focus on him, “What are you doing?” 

He answers you by licking a stripe up your pussy before sucking your clit into his mouth. The surprise of his pointed tongue and the strong suction jolts you awake. Before your vision has a chance to clear, you react by clamping your eyes shut in response. After hearing your hissed curses, he releases it, giggling against your throbbing skin, “Good morning, baby.”

The sleepy rasp of his voice drowns your self-control. You push out a forceful sigh as you fall back into the down-feather pillow, huffing sarcastically, “That’s one hell of a way to wake up.” 

He chuckles to himself and skims his fingertips along your leg, giving you a few more kisses.“I’m sorry, would you like me to stop?”

The thought of him suddenly stopping is almost enough to cause panic in your lust-addled mind. You want it so bad you’re vibrating with anticipation. “Oh fuck, no. Please keep going.”

That cheekiness you’ve become well acquainted with reappears. He coos, close enough that the words flutter across your clit, “Do you need it, baby?”

The pet name has never sounded so sweet. You want to bask in it, clutch onto the way it bounces from his lips with your clenched fists.  Your hips lift from the mattress in the blind search for his mouth. You find one of his hands resting on your stomach and grasp it with more strength than you intend. “Oh my god, yes. Just please don’t tease me, Josh.”

You claw at the sheets, wrinkling them by your sides to add emphasis to your plea. He smiles and brings himself even closer to you — less than an inch above you. His eyes fall, and as if he were sharing a secret, he whispers softly, “You like it when I spoil your little clit? Should I be nice to her?”

You respond with a whiny moan and reach for his head buried between your thighs. The tufts of his tangled curls act as reigns between your fingers. You pull him forward by their roots, guiding his mouth back to you. You brace yourself, expecting the same intensity as before, but all you feel is the blooming warmth of his mouth. It blankets you as his tongue pets your clit, lapping across the swollen bud with the slightest pressure. He gives just enough for you to notice the cold metal ball of his piercing teasing you with every roll.

He breathes you in, and licks his lips through a low groan, “Fuck, you taste so good.”

You mumble something, but it's incoherent. You’re too lost in the feeling of his lips sealing around your clit to even bother repeating yourself. He just goes on to create the perfect vacuum with his flattened tongue. He holds it there, babying the most sensitive part of you in the safety of his mouth — as if it was made solely to pleasure you. 

It’s decadent — this feeling. Like that extra slice of chocolate cake eaten at some late hour of the night barefoot in your kitchen. It’s rich and heavenly, flooding your brain with oxytocin. He’s unlike any partner you’ve experienced, and it would be borderline insulting to even compare. There’s not a hint of obligation in sight. What he’s giving you is pure adoration. Unabashed, selfless worship. He’s taking his time, not even rushing a single second with you.   

He’s making sure you feel. He’s learning your body more and more with each passing minute, maybe knowing you better than you know yourself. Like magic, the slow-building orgasm churns wildly in the depths of your belly. Only for it to be disrupted by him suddenly lifting his head, breaking the seal. “I want us to do something today.”

Your mouth is bone-dry, causing you to stutter, “W-what?” 

He shifts his weight between your legs, propping himself on an elbow. Before you can complain out of frustration, he asks nonchalantly,  “Where do you want to go?”

Your mind is too busy reeling trying to process the casual tone of his voice to think about an itinerary for the day. He doesn’t seem to mind your pause and waits patiently for an answer with a smile on his face. After a huff and a roll of your eyes, you throw your head back and comb your fingers through your hair. “Fuck. I dunno, Josh. I think I work today.”

His response is mumbled through the kisses to the inside of your leg. “Then call off. You can do that, can’t you?”

The trail of his tongue and the teasing nips of his teeth distract you. Just like that fateful afternoon the day you first met at the shop, he’s able to convince you of anything he desires. “Yeah…yeah. I think so.”

“Good.” His middle finger slips through your folds —  rewarding you. He’s playing, exploring the intricate details of your body to see your reactions in real-time. He watches your hips lift off the bed from the feather-light touch, how your chest rises and falls with each panting breath, to the changing expressions on your face. With his hooded eyes completely transfixed between your legs, he asks, “How about we take some edibles and go to the aquarium today?”

Despite the overwhelming urge to close your eyes, you fight to keep them open. He’s breathtaking, so effortlessly beautiful soaking in the filtered morning sun. You doubt the fact he’s real like he’s a still from a movie that’s been locked away in a memory until now. There’s a fear that if you blink, he might disappear and you’ll wake up from this perfect dream. 

You’re determined to capture the sight of him — a moment so natural it makes your heartache. The dark shadow of stubble growing back where his mustache draws your attention down to his kissable lips. They’re flushed bright pink, glossy with your wetness. 

He swipes his thumb across your clit, watching how your body spasms at the feeling. You hum, finally allowing your eyes to close, “Mmhmm.”

His voice floats across the tides of your conscience, “Are you listening, baby?” 

“Yeah,” you answer back through an airy sigh. In reality, you’re not convinced you even heard him correctly. The words evaporated into the air between you. They don’t matter in the slightest, he could suggest anything to you if it meant that he would make you finish. 

He kisses your inner thigh before dragging the tip of his tongue higher up. “How does that sound?” 

The kitten-licks along the crook of your leg make you choke on a breath, “S-sure.” He giggles at the broken sound, burying his laughter as he searches for your clit. “We can go look at some fish — ah fuck!”

He swirls his tongue, coaxing your orgasm into the refuge that is his mouth. You find his hand gripped across your hip. The contact serves as a substitute for the spoken words that are failing to form, touching praise that tells him you’re right on the cusp of your release. You feel across the dips and contours of his knuckles, tracing along the soft planes of each finger grasped onto the supple flesh of your waist. 

If you were aware of your surroundings, you would notice his hips grinding into the mattress for friction knowing he could’ve easily added his fingers and made you climax minutes ago out of impatience. The whine laced within the ragged breath is the only indicator that he’s just as desperate as you. “Are you close, baby?”

You moan loud enough for the sound to pierce through the thin walls of their house. If Jake was here, there’s no question that he heard you. However, the thought of the confrontation he’ll have with you is fleeting. Josh, still hell-bent on maintaining the resemblance of a conversation, asks you, “What do you want to see the most?”

“Josh,” you groan, swallowing harshly to wet your parched tongue.

“Yeah?”

“Please shut up.” 

He smiles, pressing the sharp edge of his teeth against your clit. As much as he loves to tease you, the urgency in your tone is enough to flip the last switch. The lazy movements are abandoned, replaced with the rapid flicks of his tongue. 

“Holy sh-shit!” You cry out, clawing at his hands that are latched around your legs. Every muscle in your body tightens like an over-spun coil ready to snap any second. You fall past the tipping point as he drenches you in intoxicating bliss like you’ve been submerged in a warm bath. 

He brings you down carefully, licking and kissing until your legs start to shake from overstimulation. Peaceful silence falls between you as your breathing calms and your heart rate returns to normal within a few minutes. You expect him to crawl up your body and slip himself inside you, but he doesn’t.

He lifts himself from the bed, throws the duvet off to the side, and stands to his feet. His nakedness sends your eyes to his obviously-hard cock bouncing against his belly as he moves. He catches you staring, and the confusion painted on your face. 

You’re completely dumbfounded, as Josh doesn’t strike you as the type to pass on the opportunity for sex. The strange behavior might have made you question things normally, but the certain glint in his eyes tells you something is brewing in that brain of his. 

A tiny smirk forms on his face as he makes his way to the dresser, giving you a direct view of his ass. The way jiggles and bounces as he walks is enough to distract you momentarily. You know he’s doing it on purpose, and you hate the way you fall for it. He digs out his clothes from the drawers, tosses them onto the foot of the bed, and starts to get dressed in front of you. 

You wish you had your phone to snap a picture of him, even for your own selfish reasons. The collection of vibrant tattoos flowing with the lean muscles of his body deserves to be admired. The dichotomy of wanting to appreciate his beauty while wanting to ravish his cock that’s twitching with the steady beat of his heart wrecks your brain.

 Realizing that you’re gawking, he looks up and flashes you a full smile. “So I was thinking we could grab a coffee and some breakfast on the way. My treat.” 

Stunned, you watch him pull his boxer briefs up his legs with his cock standing at attention more than ever. Your pussy throbs for him, craving the full feeling he gives you. Unbothered, he grabs himself with a firm hand and tucks it away into the confines of his underwear. The heather-gray fabric does little to conceal it, taunting you with the prominent outline. 

“Uh…about that,” You begin just as he slips on a pair of jeans that does nothing but hug his crotch in all the right places. It takes every ounce of energy for you to look away. “I need to stop by my apartment today. I have to check on my cat and get some clothes.”

He pauses with his t-shirt in hand. “You have a cat?” After seeing you nod, he scoffs in disbelief, “How did I not know that?”

You sit up, snorting a laugh as you scoot to the edge of the bed. “I don’t think we’ve spent our time actually getting to know each other.”

“Hmm,” he hums, making his way toward you. He steps between your legs and leans until he’s just about eye level. “I beg to differ. I think I’m getting to know you very well.”

You peer up, hoping not to fall headfirst into those amber irises. “So well in fact that you didn’t even know I had a cat.”

“Hey,” he scolds playfully while tipping your chin up with a finger and lowering himself even farther so his lips hover above yours. “In my defense, I was a little busy getting to know another kitty of yours.”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you huff, but he catches the back of your neck before you can pull away. 

He nips at the spot below your ear, making you suck in a breath.“Utterly moronic.” You whimper at the silken quality of his voice. “Now get dressed, baby.” 

You want to tug him close by the collar of his white t-shirt and kiss him. Lost in the sheets until the sun sets again, but he straightens, breaking the hold you have on him. 

He finishes getting ready while you dress and gather your belongings around him. You take a chance opening the door to his bedroom to see that Jake’s wide open. He’s nowhere to be found, but you spot your overnight bag sitting on top of his bed, reminding you how things were left off with him. 

You walk into his room, taking cautious steps toward the enormous four-post bed. Once you’re a few feet from it, you see a garment wrapped in a plastic covering beside your bag. You recognize it immediately. It’s the dress you wore to your tattoo appointment with Jake, dry-cleaned and laid out neatly for you.  

You’re not sure what to make of the gesture. It’s a level of care and detail that you weren’t expecting from him. It leaves you confused more than anything. There’s no note with your things, and a glance at your phone screen shows no messages from him.  

You hear Josh’s footsteps approach before he knocks against the door frame and calls into the room, “You ready?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You snatch your bag from the bed and head toward him, leaving the dress behind. 

He ushers you out of the front door of the house, locking it behind you once you step to the side. You follow him down the stairs, along the concrete path, and to the driveway where his beloved Camry sits. 

Up close, and now that you’re paying close attention to it, you can see the evidence left by the years from a type of tough love that would blur the line of abuse. The car has stood up to the test of time, proudly wearing every scratch along the chipped red paint and every dent punched into its exterior.   

As you walk around its battered hood, you note the metallic blue fender piece around the front passenger wheel well. You smile to yourself, as it's not a surprise that he’s the type of person to barely care if there was a fender attached at all.

You imagine each point of damage created by teenage Josh — each mark having its own ridiculous story for him to share with you one day. 

You also know that there’s a strong likelihood that some of these could have been made within the week. The thought of it causes a giggle to break free, “How old is this thing?”

He chuckles, manually unlocking the driver-side door with the key. “It’s an ‘03.”

You wait as he slides into his seat, expecting him to hit the unlock button on the inside of his door. He stretches across the passenger seat and pulls up the locking mechanism. 

You pop the handle, pleasantly surprised that it opens with ease, and peek inside. A pile of old cassette and CD cases litter the floor of the front seat. Layers of stickers that probably span over the years cover nearly every square inch of the plastic beige dash. The worn upholstery seats have been mended by hand and stitched back together in a rainbow of threads. Upon further inspection, you notice the tiny, circular cigarette burns that haven't earned their own patch. “Don’t you think it’s time for a new car?”

While you throw your bag into the backseat, he turns the key in the ignition. The idling engine emphasizes his answer. “Why? This baby runs perfectly fine.”

You scoff a laugh, “Josh. Your side view mirror is held on by duct tape and a prayer.”

“Hey!” He wags a pointed finger with his quirked brow before patting the center of the dash affectionately. “There’s nothing duct tape can’t fix. It hasn’t failed me yet.”

You glance over at him, watching him lift his ass from the seat so he can empty his pockets.“How much shit in this car is held together by duct tape?”

He bites back a smile, tossing his pack of cigarettes onto the dash, and sets his phone in the center console. After putting the car in reverse, he holds your headrest to look behind him, but his gaze lingers on you. “Do you want the real answer to that?”

“It might be better if I don’t know.”

Music plays through the speakers just low enough that the lack of conversation becomes noticeable. You’ve tried to distract yourself, but the plastic army men superglued to his dash can only keep your pestering thoughts from wandering for so long. 

He appears anxious, picking aimlessly at the woven steering wheel cover and bouncing a knee for the last few miles. After stopping at the next red light, he finally reaches for his pack of cigarettes resting on the center of the dash. With his free hand, he flips the top and pulls one out with his lips before tossing it back. Your eyes follow the bent pack of Marlboro Lights sliding into the corner of the windshield. After rolling his window down and using his knees to steer, he lights the cigarette and pulls a heavy drag. “Hey.”

“Hey.” 

He glances over at you and takes a steadying breath. “I know I said we should have a serious talk last night, and well, we didn’t do as much talking as we probably should have.”

His anxiety becomes contagious, infecting you in an instant. You stiffen, taking cautious verbal steps, “Okay. What did you want to talk about?” 

Noticing your sudden change, he reaches out and gives your knee a reassuring squeeze. “Relax, baby. Everything is okay. I promise.”

“But something is still bothering you.”

You study his expressions and body language. He’s hesitant, thinking over each word carefully. The sigh he releases and the way he’s rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip makes your chest tighten. “I want you to know that I’m not trying to fuck around.” He quickly clears his throat to clarify his thoughts, “I mean, I’m not really looking to hook up with other people. And…and I think I wanted you to know that I’m just about you right now.”

You don’t answer him right away, letting each word replay in your head over and over. It takes a moment to process, deciphering what he’s truly saying past the surface level. You question if this is a conversation about exclusivity and the implications that go with it. He hasn’t looked back at you yet since he’s spoken, keeping his focus locked on the road.

“Josh?”

Your voice breaks his attention long enough for him to glance over at you. “Yeah?” 

“Are you trying to say that you want me to stop sleeping with Jake?” 

You try not to think about how much the proposition affects you because deep down you know the feeling will act as a stubborn stain on your heart that will never wash out no matter how much you try. You’ve thrown it out into the open and there’s no reeling it back in. It settles between you, more so than the iron weight in the pit of your stomach. You have to acknowledge your hypocrisy when you stood there in their driveway, holding your ground about not wanting to create jealousy between them. 

He winces as he takes another drag, pushing out the question through the blown smoke, “Do you want to stop sleeping with Jake?”

You’re quick to snap back, “Don’t dodge my question.”

“I’m not,” he huffs defensively.  “Look, I’ll be the first person to admit that our situation is…less than conventional. But I like you. I hope that’s obvious.” A smile breaks through the last part, but the expression stays controlled. “All I’m worried about is you being happy and comfortable. Knowing that you’re having fun, but I don’t have any expectations, okay?”

He waits for your nod before continuing to talk. “If having fun for you is hooking up with me, or with the both of us like we’ve been doing, or even if you just want to be with Jake… that’s okay too.”

Before you can open your mouth to reassure him, he adds, “It will be a bummer, but I’ll accept that.”

The pained flick of his thumb across the filter of his cigarette reveals more of his emotions than his chosen words. His exterior is calm and collected — an undeniable contrast to the outburst in the shop office. Out of the corner of your eye, you see how close you’re getting to your apartment building, and the last thing you want is to leave things off on a bad note. “You know I still want to sleep with you, right?”

His shoulders immediately relax and his face lights up as soon as the words leave your lips. That reserved smile blossoms into a full grin. “I might have had a feeling.”

As much as the sight gives you that fuzzy feeling, there’s still a tinge of embarrassment that you’re not handling this as well as you should be, making you confess, “This is new for me.”

Josh’s hand wraps around your thigh once more. “Me too. But we’ll figure it out.” His fingers and thumb begin to knead small circles into the bare skin. The touch is electric, sparking desire like lightning between your legs. “One last thing though. Can you just tell me you’re mad at me next time? I don’t know if I can handle much more of you fucking him to get back at me.”

Despite ending the last sentence with a laugh, it’s not because he finds it humorous. Guilt resurfaces, revealing your immaturity over the last week. You knew that’s how he felt, but to hear him say it acts like salt to the wound. You play it off, throwing in a touch of sarcasm. “So honest and open communication about my feelings?”

He bites at his lip before giving you that smile of his.“Crazy, I know.”

“I’ll try.”

Josh parks behind your apartment building in your designated space. To your relief, your roommate’s car is missing from its spot, giving you the clear to bring him up without having to deal with an awkward introduction. Before you can unbuckle your seatbelt, he snatches your bag from the backseat and slings it over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the car. 

He follows you through the narrow alleyway toward the front door of the building, causing a new, unfamiliar feeling to brew in your chest. In the past, bringing people back to your place has always been a rare thing, especially in broad daylight. You’ve found that you’re more comfortable at their house, coming and going on your terms. Now with him, a half-step behind you, seconds away from your door, is starting to feel like this is developing past the casual hookup phase and you’re not entirely sure where to place that idea in your brain. 

You unlock the heavy door and give it a strong push to break the seal of old paint that keeps it stuck within its frame during warmer months. Since it’s an older building, the musty air sticks to your lungs as you ascend the staircase. 

“How long have you lived here?” Josh sparks small talk from behind you. 

You keep your voice quiet to keep the sound from traveling into the other apartments. “About three years. It’s not quite up to code but the rent is cheap and my landlord is super cool so I can’t complain.”

Josh chuckles, “You know what they say, ‘A little asbestos builds character’.”

You laugh at his joke, stopping on the landing to search for your apartment key on the metal ring. “Can’t be much worse than all the cigarettes you smoke.”

He steps in front of you and blushes, releasing the strained breath he’s been holding in. “Hey, I’m trying to quit.”

You take the next set of stairs while throwing the bratty remark over your shoulder. “Oh? How’s that going by the way?”

Sarcasm seeps into his tone, making him exhale with a dramatic wheeze, “Fantastic. Can’t you tell?”

As soon as you’re standing in front of your door, a sudden wave of anxiety washes over you. This is the first time he’s going to see your place —  a part of you that’s remained a mystery to him until now. Accepting that there’s no turning back, you turn the key in the lock, praying that nothing embarrassing has been left in plain sight. 

“Well, this is it,” you announce into the empty apartment with open arms. 

You drop your keys onto the side table while he walks in and shuts the door behind him. After sliding your bag off his shoulder and resting it on a nearby chair, his eyes scan over the quaint living room. “Wow. It’s quite cozy in here.”

Thankfully, your roommate had kept the place pretty tidy overnight. Crocheted throw pillows are propped up nicely, a folded blanket is draped over the back of the couch, and stacks of books and an unfinished puzzle sit on the vintage oak coffee table. The late morning light casts through the large plate glass windows, giving your family of houseplants their daily dose of sun. 

The commotion wakes your sleeping cat, making him lift his head from his spot on the couch and give you both a welcoming chirp. With a childlike wonder, Josh beams with excitement, calling out in a soft voice, “Hey buddy!”

He slowly drops to a squatting position and holds out his hand. “Pspspsps.” 

You stand back, pleasantly surprised that Josh can gain his trust so easily. The orange tabby does his post-nap stretch before jumping off the couch with a thud, landing on all four paws. He trots over, causing his low belly to swing with his stride, and rubs his face into Josh’s open palm. “What’s your name?”

Not knowing what his reaction will be, you answer sheepishly, “Tater tot.”

Josh throws his head back and lets out a loud cackle, filling the quiet room with his vibrant energy. “Tater tot. I fucking love that.” He scratches under the cat’s chin, earning himself a purr. “You kind of look like a tater tot, don’t you?”

You move through the living room, placing your stuff down as you reminisce over the distant memory. “I found him by the dumpster at work when he was just a tiny kitten. Poor guy was covered in fleas and so hungry that he ate tater tots that I had with my lunch right out of my hand. And the name just stuck ever since.”

He gives your cat’s rotund frame an affectionate pat. “What a cool dude.”

You linger for a few beats of time until you clear your throat. “I’m gonna go get ready. You okay out here with him?”

He makes himself at home on the lounge chair next to your couch and releases a comfortable sigh, “Take your time, baby. Ol’ Tater and I will catch up.”

You rush back to your bathroom and freshen up as quickly as you can. Not long after you left the twins’ house, you texted Katie about covering your shift this afternoon. Thankfully, she was able to without much of a battle, leaving your day wide open to spend with Josh. 

After applying some makeup and doing your hair in a simple style, you repack your overnight bag and look for an outfit to change into. You pick out a simple, linen sundress from your closet that’s going to be comfortable enough for you to walk around in.

Josh doesn’t hear you come back into the living room, and keeps his back turned. In your short absence, he has scooped your cat up into his arms and started rocking him like a newborn baby. He hums a song that’s stuck in his head while pacing around the space, studying the art, little thrifted trinkets, and knick-knacks to the collection of books sitting on the shelf. You watch from the edge of the hallway, noticing how well he seems to fit in here — like he’s meshing seamlessly with your existing life. 

The romantic in you pines for a different reality, because at this moment, seeing the peaceful innocence makes you wish that he had asked you out on a proper date the first day you met. That way, you could have gotten to know him under different circumstances. After weeks of dating, you could’ve introduced him to friends, maybe even brought him to meet your nightmare parents. 

But the way things are with him seems as though it’s far too good to be true — an exciting fling that’s destined to fizzle out as soon as the summer ends. You’ve learned this lesson before. Don’t get too emotionally invested in a guy like him. 

Before getting swept away in the emotions of it like an incoming tide, you interrupt, “I’m shocked he let you pick him up like that. Usually, he hates being held.” Josh is startled by your voice, turning on his heels with the biggest smile on his face. “He must really like you.”

Your beloved cat continues to rub his face across Josh’s defined jaw, purring so loud that you can hear it from across the room. Proud that he’s won his affection, he can’t help but crack a joke, “What can I say…pussies love me.”

You groan with a dramatic roll of your eyes and walk to the door with your bag in hand. Josh laughs from behind you, only to be followed by the sound of Tater Tot’s paws returning to the wood floor. “What? What’d I say?”

You let the smile creep across your lips as you grab your purse and keys. “Sometimes I wonder why I hang out with you at all?”

He hums in thought, standing behind you as he watches you lock the deadbolt. “It could be the big dick and the free weed.”

You scoff and turn to the stairs knowing that he’ll follow. Before you can take the first step, he reaches out and hooks your upper arm in his hand, tugging you close. “Hey.” He abandons the teasing banter, taking on a calm sincerity in his voice. “You look beautiful, baby. Thank you for spending the day with me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re right. Those flowers do look great in your apartment.”

With the weight lifted between you, the drive to the aquarium was far more relaxed than the one on the way to your apartment. Like a road trip planned with your best friend, the miles fly by quicker than you thought. The last hour was spent laughing and playing music from the scattered tapes and CDs strewn across the car. 

Josh chooses a parking deck close by, but because of it being in the center of the city, the first three floors are filled. He eventually finds a spot on the last level, kills the engine, and digs around for something in his backseat. He retrieves a small plastic container, pops the lid open, and offers you a red gummy placed in the center of his palm. 

You giggle, plucking it from his open hand, “You’re such a bad influence.”

“The peer pressure must be killing you.” He teases, tossing back three into his mouth. 

Even though you’ve already started chewing yours, you stare at him in disbelief and snatch the container from him. “How strong are these?”

He chuckles around his own gummies, answering before you have a chance to find it on the label. “They’re only twenty.”

Your eyes widen as you swallow down the THC-infused cherry-flavored juice. “Oh, great.”

He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and places a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Relax. You’re going to be fine. I got you, baby.”

“I fucking hope so.”

You both make your way through the parking deck and out onto the street. It’s early afternoon, and the summer sun is at its highest point in the sky. Thankfully, the trek to the aquarium is roughly a ten-minute stroll. You follow behind him as he walks up to the ticket counter outside of the building. 

“Hello,” Josh greets the employee behind the glass.  An older woman looks up from her computer and stares blankly at him. He waits a few seconds for her response, but when she doesn’t, he adds, “Can I get two adult tickets, please?”

You catch her glare before she redirects her attention to her computer. “That’ll be $105.89.”

Josh fishes his wallet out of his back pocket, waving you off when you reach into your purse. “I got it, baby.” He pulls out a credit card and slides it across the metal counter through the opening of the glass window. 

The woman's judgemental eyes lock onto his hands pushing the card toward her. You’re confused as to why until you realize that she’s staring at his finger tattoos. A look of disgust contorts her aged features as she reaches for it. You glance over at him, seeing the same friendly expression he’s been wearing despite this woman’s blatant rudeness toward him. 

She inspects the card between her fingers and looks up at him. “I need your ID to verify this card.”

You cut in, showing your frustration, “Are you serious? Is that necessary?”

“It’s okay,” He mumbles softly, placating you while handing the employee his driver’s license. He manages to keep his discomfort contained and hidden beneath the surface. Anger ignites and burns like wildfire within your body, but you stay silent as the interaction plays out. 

The old woman compares the names on the credit card and license in front of her before finalizing the payment. She reluctantly pushes both back to him, along with the receipt and printed tickets.“You know those things are permanent, young man.”

Josh forces out an awkward laugh as he slides both cards back into his wallet, “I would certainly hope so with how much I paid for them.”

Being in this employee’s presence makes your blood boil, and you can’t fathom spending another second in it. You hook your arm around his and usher him toward the entrance until you’re out of earshot. “What the fuck was that about?”

“What?”

You shuffle into the line and turn to him. “The ticket lady? She was so rude to you, Josh.” He doesn’t answer, but shrugs his shoulders, clearly not matching the same feelings you have about the ordeal. “Do people treat you like that a lot?”

“It happens. Sometimes you can’t change people who think like that.” There’s a hint of defeat in those words, a hidden sadness that he’s trying to mask. The experience knocks you down because you’ve only ever seen the art inked into his skin as beautiful. His brows pull together when he sees your frown and the hurt in your eyes. “What matters is that you think they’re cool, right?”

You blush instantly. “The coolest.”

“Fuck yeah. Now let’s go check out some fish.”

Another employee scans your tickets and points you in the direction of the main lobby. You let Josh take the lead, following the trail of painted blue arrows on the concrete floor to the closest exhibits. 

Walking through the open space, the recognizable smell of seawater from the rows of tanks drifts along the air and into your senses. Since it’s the middle of the week, the crowds are smaller — just a few people passing by every couple of minutes. 

You find yourselves before this massive tank that wraps around a circular shaped room. The serene ocean hues drench you in its blue light. As you read over the descriptions of the animals in each enclosure on the plaques, the edible you ate in the car starts to take effect on your body. You’re becoming highly aware of Josh standing beside you, and your focus moves to him. He’s taking it all in, admiring life’s simplest and more intricate details captured behind the wall of glass. 

 The calm silence is making it hard for you to concentrate on the animals. You’re becoming more restless only to feel his fingers brush against yours. It’s a testing touch before they weave tightly between them. It’s not much, but the public display of affection sends your heart racing. 

You’ve been questioning whether or not this is a date, or if it’s simply friends hanging out together. Friends that happen to have the wildest sex you’ve ever experienced. 

He points to a large fish swimming by, but you don’t catch any of the words he’s saying. The only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his warm fingers squeezing around yours from his excitement. 

You stand like this for a while staring at all the sea life, but the way his thumb rubs against your hand keeps distracting you. “Josh?”

“Hmm?” He hums but keeps his gaze on the tank. His hazy eyes sparkle as they dance from fish to fish. 

“Do you come here a lot?”

He snorts a breathy laugh, “No. Can you believe that? But I’m glad we did.”

“How come?”

The question finally causes him to break away and look directly at you. You want to kiss him, snuggle up in the comfort of his hoodie, and stay like that for hours. He smiles wide, bringing out the dimple on his left cheek. “I think we needed to get away from the bullshit for a while.”

“The bullshit?”

He lets go of your hand and steps closer to the glass, now a couple of inches away. “Yeah. It’s healthy to step back from all the chaos and connect with nature when you can. Forget our problems for the moment to remember how delicate and beautiful life is. That we are just one facet in the great cosmos.”

You lean in, whispering so others can’t hear, “How high are you?”

He giggles with a sigh, “Pretty high.” You pull him back by a handful of his sweatshirt, making him bump into you. “I’m serious though.”

Even with the closeness, he keeps his touches appropriate. You stretch on your toes and give him a soft peck on his lips. “I bet, but I wanna check out the sharks.”

You look for the shark exhibit, following the path of blue arrows through several escalators and moving walkways. Everything is going well, but the aquarium is far colder than you anticipated, and now you’re cursing at yourself for not bringing along a sweater like Josh. 

Your violent shivers are too difficult to hide, and he’s quick to notice. He pulls off his hoodie and hands it over, “Here.”

“Thanks.” 

Although the look of it over your sundress isn’t the best fashion statement, it’s the least of your worries. It envelops you like a comforting hug. You nuzzle into it while he looks away, breathing in the fabric that holds his scent —  a calming mix of his cologne, and laundry detergent with the faint smell of cigarettes. 

A few minutes pass as you navigate your way to see the sharks. He’s fidgety, rubbing up and down the length of his bare arms. He then hugs himself as if to hide the tattoos without much success. You’re undoubtedly high, which only makes you hyper-aware of his uneasiness.

Josh has been nothing but confident since the day you met him. He’s never faltered, acting like the tattoos were simply an extension of him. His restlessness — whether it’s weed-induced paranoia or tucked-away self-esteem issues, affects you greatly.  

The behavior is unlike him, and you’re sensitive about it. He holds himself like you’ve stripped him bare and left him completely exposed for judging eyes. You’re not sure what to do other than gently pluck his fingers from his arm that has been pressing into the flesh so hard they’ve created indentations. 

Your touch breaks the spell he’s in, making him swap hands with the one that is closest to you. He squeezes your fingers tightly and gives you a grateful smile as he whispers, “Thank you.”

You study the expression on his face, but his bloodshot eyes zero in on your moving lips. “You okay?” 

He leads you in with his hand, closing the short distance between you. The kiss is deeper, and richer than previous ones today. Even with the tip of his tongue ghosting across your lips, it doesn’t feel sexual. He eventually pulls away, and happily sighs, “Much better.”

After leaving the aquarium, you must have walked around the city for hours. Hand-in-hand, swept away by each other’s presence. By the time you made it back to the deck, the sun had fully set in the sky. Once nearly full to capacity, the deck remains borderline desolate. A few vehicles are scattered amongst the first few floors, but as you climb to the fourth, you spot Josh’s Camry sitting alone. 

Now that the euphoric buzz from your cherry-flavored gummy is starting to settle in your system, the desire to have him is so bad that the hour-long drive seems torturous to think about. Besides the few chaste kisses placed on your cheeks, and the one shared on the escalator, he has yet to kiss you today with the same passion you’re used to. 

You’ve been craving those risky touches, the curious grazes of fingertips under the hemline of your dress. You wished for the lewd, sexual comments whispered against your ear when people were around. Those memories of his mouth roaming across your body have been invading your mind ever since you walked out their front door this morning. His undivided attention, the pin-you-against-the-wall kind of attention is what you’ve been wanting all day. You just never would have thought that him on his best behavior would drive you this mad. 

If he feels the same way, he’s been hiding it better than you. Unbothered from the casual stroll to the car, the goofy grin plastered across his face, to the way he’s belting out random notes into the open space just to hear them echo back. 

After both of you step into the car and get settled, he asks, “Do you wanna go to the bar?”

He pops open the lid of the center console and starts searching for a particular CD to play. As he roots around, you realize that looking at anything other than his lips proves to be a challenge you can’t overcome. 

You forget to answer. He’s still rummaging around the junk crammed in the center console, but your silence makes him laugh, “Or should we head back to the house?”

You shift in your seat toward him, whispering, “Josh.”

“What’s up?” His eyes flick up, meeting yours. 

While you’re not usually the one to make the first move, giving in to a temptation that’s been gnawing relentlessly for hours never felt so rewarding. Your lips crash against his, abrupt and unrestrained. Your kiss is heady, starving for even the faintest taste. Impatience doesn’t even begin to explain what you’re feeling. You take the initiative by licking into his parted mouth, searching and demanding for what’s been so out of reach. 

He meets your tongue with his, greeting you with a matched passion. That subtle sweetness, the crisp bite of mint gum — it cuts out any forethought you might possess in an instant. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, venturing further with him when there’s a possibility that an onlooker can walk right on by. The risk of being caught becomes meaningless, lost in the orange glow of the outside lamps.

The hungry kiss might have been the end of this moment — left with a palmed breast and a few nips of teeth. The whine through a bated breath with the following moan tumbling right into your mouth changes everything. It’s what propels you forward over the console and onto his lap. The crawl to him is less than graceful with your clumsy limbs knocking into everything in your path. 

As you struggle to get settled on his legs, he leans back against the headrest with open arms. He watches with a prideful smirk, confidently basking in the knowledge that you were the first to break. You’ve already braced yourself on his shoulders and started to grind your ass over the rough denim in hopes of catching his hard-on. Amused, he tilts his chin up, keeping his lips barely an inch from yours. “Hi.”

Breathless, you scold, “Shut up and kiss me.”

A deep exhale bellows from his chest while his hands knead the flesh of your thighs beneath the bunched-up fabric of your dress. He ignores your request, biting back the lip you so desperately want for yourself. Frustrated, you roll your hips in an attempt to send his open hands closer to your ass. 

Your sense of control wavers with the whimper, “Josh, please.”

 A curious hum resides in this throat and his fingertips ghost the delicate edge of your thong stretched across your hip. At this point, you would do anything to have him. That gummy from this afternoon fails in comparison to the drug that is him. You bury your face into the warmth of his neck, sucking at the tender skin below his jawline. 

He giggles as if the feeling tickles and sends one hand up the length of your back instead of between your legs like you want.“What’s got you so worked up, baby?”

“You,” you mumble, tightening the hold you have on the nape of his neck as if you could somehow bring yourself closer. The tight space of the driver seat confines you, heightening every movement tenfold. 

“Me?” The cockiness in his voice reminds you of Jake more than you’d like to admit, but the single word spoken into your temple makes you tremble. Driving yourself further into his groin, you end up clenching around nothing but the memory. “I got you so desperate that you can’t even wait until we got home?”

The hints of his erection, knowing that it’s there but hidden from your grasp destroy every facet of your self-control. He’s right. The thought of waiting for him is truly unbearable. You lean back on his legs, giving yourself the space to reach between you and find the button of his jeans. You’re able to pop it open before his hand clasps around your wrist, stopping you. “Baby, I’m shocked. I didn’t take you for the public sex type.”

“Are we going to fuck or not?” It was supposed to leave your lips with power but hit the air between you as a pathetic plea. 

Just like the words acting as the ripcord to his own urges, he tears apart your thong between his hands in a swift pull. After hearing your stunned yelp, he bares his teeth to the vulnerable skin of your throat and lets a laugh flutter across your ear, “Oops.”

He flings your shredded panties somewhere into the backseat and cups the curve of your ass with a firm hand, lifting you enough so he can work himself out of the leg of his jeans. Unlike the teasing banter seconds before, he wastes no time dragging the head of cock through your wetness. 

The way his teeth sink into the thin flesh covering your collarbone gives away how badly he wants this as well. After a less-than-gentle pass and in a single thrust, he pushes his entire length inside you. 

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, the sound low and guttural. He stretches you and crashes into your cervix before you have a chance to adjust to his size. He keeps himself there, allowing the stinging pain to subside within seconds, replacing it with that addicting full feeling. 

If you’re being honest with yourself, you welcome that pain — a reminder of how you’ve been acting lately. It should be no surprise how quickly your body remembers him despite how long it’s been since he’s been buried inside you.

He sighs into the hollow point of your neck, muttering the sweet confession, “I’ve missed this.” 

You settle your weight on his lap, only allowing him to rock his hips in the seat. You tighten around him, soaking his cock in your pleasure. “I missed you, too.”

He stops moving to drink you in, kissing and licking a path along your shoulder. “Fuck, I love your pussy so much…best I’ve ever had.”

Your heart skips a beat from the thought alone, but you’re greedy for his praise. You push yourself back with your hands placed on his chest, giving yourself room to see his face. “The best, huh?”

That smug grin reappears while his heavy-lidded eyes drift slowly up to yours. You take in the details of his face, how the shadows accentuate his sharper features. “Yeah…would I lie to you?”

He flusters you, making your line of sight fall from his glazed eyes down to your restless hands. You watch yourself play with the fraying neckline of his t-shirt, asking, “Would you?” 

He tips his chin, keeping his focus solely on your lips before bringing his own close enough to whisper, “Never.”

In a matter of seconds, his hands skim across the fabric of your dress to find the thin straps. Hooking them under his thumbs, he slips them down your arms, taking the front of your dress with them. In a frantic need, he yanks the cropped, black t-shirt you’ve been wearing under your dress up over your chest. 

Now that it’s freed and exposed, he sucks your naked breast into his mouth and licks a broad stripe across your hardening nipple. You force yourself to look up to check if anyone is walking by, only to see that the windows are beginning to fog from the heat of your shared breaths. They’re clinging to every inch of your skin, causing a sheen of sweat to collect across your furrowed brow. And yet, a chill climbs up the length of your spine from his tongue rolling over your bare tits. 

The uncomfortable position is posing a unique challenge for you both. Since both knees are wedged and starting to ache from plastic digging into your flesh, you’re unable to ride him the way you want. Josh, however, doesn’t let the restrictions of the Camry ruin the moment if he can help it. The moans tumbling from your lips act as his cue to wrap his arms around the small of your back, locking you in place.

It should’ve been a warning to you. 

Something animalistic suddenly possesses him, shredding any remaining innocence. He snaps his hips up, thrusting into you with a strength you didn’t realize existed within him. He takes on all the work, holding you above him while you’re left to brace yourself in any way you can. 

Pornographic sounds —  sounds you wouldn’t dare make in the past break free from your chest. He’s thriving off them, knowing that if he was fucking you without these limitations you would be reduced to an even more pathetic, incoherent mess. 

He’s not shy about making his own noises. His rumbled growl vibrates between your breasts. Primal grunts are trapped behind his clenched teeth. It could be because he’s out of breath or that he’s closer than he thought, but he starts to slow his pace, shifting to more of a grinding motion. 

“Oh my god. You feel so fucking good,” You pant. Half-whines, half-barely recognizable curses fall from your open mouth. “Please, please, please.” You’re rambling, blurting out any broken, strung-together thought you can. “Josh…I… I…fuck—don’t stop. ”

His raspy laugh pushes through strained vocal cords, “I’m listening, baby.”

He tries to move and adjust to get a better position, sending the edge of the steering wheel into your lower back. “Ow!” You hiss, rubbing the spot with your fingers. 

“Shit. Sorry, baby.” Although he gives you an apologetic look, you can’t help but giggle at his expense. He returns it, huffing, “Fuck it. Get in the backseat.”

Without more protest than a pained groan, you lift yourself off of his cock and stretch out your weak limbs before clambering over the center console into the backseat. You’re not forced to live with your awkward tumble into the seat for long. He quickly follows, climbing over with far more agility than you.

His twitching, glistening cock pulled out from his unbuttoned jeans, and those sweaty curls sticking to his forehead is a sight you’ll never forget. You watch him as he reaches into the front passenger seat for his sweatshirt. He balls it up and places it under your head as a makeshift pillow. 

“Acting like you’ve done this before,” you tease, clutching the golden sun that hangs from his neck.

He laughs, lowering his head with your guiding hand. “I’ve had to get creative a time or two.” 

“Such a slut.” 

He places a kiss on your lips, mumbling, “Don’t forget…” He breaks away, taking the sloppy kisses along your jaw to your ear, making your stomach flip as if it were an Olympic gymnast. “You were the one that jumped me.” 

He kneels on the seat, kicking your open legs with his knee while pushing your dress to your stomach. Taking his cock in his hand, he lets a trail of spit fall into himself. With a few pumps of his fist, he shudders out a heavy breath, “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me not to fuck you this morning?”

He lets the head of his lubed cock slide across your clit. You lift your hips, chasing him. “I wanted you so bad.”

He lines himself with your entrance and glides in effortlessly. The gratification it gives you is instant. He finds a rhythm and braces himself with each hand gripped onto your thighs. “I know, baby. Trust me. I’ve been thinking about you all week… I’m so addicted to you.” 

You let him stare, watching how his eyes bounce with your moving tits down to his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. As much as you love it, you need him close. You have to feel his warmth and the weight of his body on top of you, have his scent fill your delirious brain, and have those sounds fan across the shell of your ear. 

You find his wrist and tug him to you, gesturing for him to fall forward. He repositions and hitches your leg around his waist while planting his foot on the floor. 

He slides an arm beneath you with his other hand gripping onto the cushion for balance. The change in angle makes him feel deeper than before. You hug him, silently pleading with him to stay. A satisfied pur echoes in his throat, transferring the sound to your wet lips pressed against his skin. “You want it, baby?” 

You reply with a hushed whimper, hoping that he can hear, “I’m so close.” 

He breathes you in and sends his voice directly into your ear. “I can’t wait to fill you up the way you deserve.” You didn’t understand how spoiled you have become until he deprived you of it. So much so that it had turned you into a creature of pure depravity. You clutch onto his damp t-shirt, wrinkling it in your fists across his back. 

“Please, Josh. I need it,” you choke out in a pitiful sob.

He comforts you with a reassuring shush, brushing the tacky hair from your temple. “Look at you. So perfect. Begging for my cum like a good girl.” 

His cock slips inside your pussy with a taunting drag. He talks to you, peppering the words with a sweep of his lips across your cheek, “You’re gonna be so full of me, swollen and beautiful.” Being vocal with you is nothing new, but tonight he can’t seem to hold himself back.  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.” 

You say his name over and over like a mantra. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans through a deliberate roll of his hips that pushes the head of his cock against your g-spot. “If you weren’t on birth control I swear I’d get you pregnant so fucking fast.” 

He says it with such conviction making you think that it’s not something he accidentally blurted out in the moment. It shocks you into silence at first. The incredibly slim possibility has never been brought to your attention before now. It’s a thought that should scare the shit out of you, but somehow it doesn’t. If anything, it nearly sends you crashing over the edge. 

He lifts his head to look into your eyes, searching for your thoughts within them. “You like that idea? Me filling up your pretty pussy and getting you knocked up?”

You nod and smile at him— albeit a fucked out one. Maybe you’re too afraid to say the full confession, so you only respond with a hum, “Mmhmm.”

He kisses you, slipping his tongue over yours like an expertly-timed dance. A teasing flick of it followed by a nip to your bottom lip transforms you into a puddle beneath him. “Just say the words, sweetheart.” 

“I…I…” You start to stammer before eventually stopping yourself. You know that there’s not a chance in hell you’ll be able to come up with anything coherent for him.

He draws the pad of his thumb across your chin while continuing to talk through his languid thrusts, “You’d be breathtaking. Belly round with my baby… those perfect tits of yours filled with milk. Fuck. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” 

The fantasy he paints for you overrides your mind. You have to look away and blink back the tears clouding your vision. For a second, the only thing you can process is the view of the roof of his old Camry. 

“I’m so close to cumming just thinking about it,” he admits, bringing his hand between your legs to find your clit. His lust-drugged fingers slip through your slick in the blind search until you jolt at the feeling. The heat of your building orgasm has been pooling between your legs and now you’re mere seconds away from plummeting right over the cliff. All you can do is accept fate as he circles the bundle of nerves with a gentle pressure. 

He traces your favorite patterns while gracing your conscience with that sinful lilt of his, “One word and I’ll give it all to you.” He pushes you to the tipping point by matching the rhythm of his fingers with the glide of his cock. “If it were up to me, baby? I’d have you full and dripping with my cum every fucking day of the week.” 

“Please.” 

Right as you claw at his flexed shoulder blades and drive him deeper with your locked legs, he gives a final request after speaking your name, “Let me hear you. I deserve that, right?” 

He does, and you’re beyond willing to give it all to him — the embarrassing groans ripping through your chest, the pitched whines and the delicate moans that chase them. Your walls flutter around his cock, tightening around him through your orgasm. 

“You’re so perfect.” Is his final praise into the tacky skin on your neck. It leaves his lips through a faint whimper as you slowly milk him dry. As the warmth spill into you, he continues to gently fuck you through the waves of your release.

After slowing a stop and carefully withdrawing his softening cock, he breaks the hold you have on him by sitting back on his heels. Looking down at your pussy through drowsy lids, he sweeps his middle finger through your slit and brings them to his mouth. You watch in awe as he passes it over his flattened tongue to lick them clean.

“You look so fucking hot,” he mutters with a ragged breath. Even though the words are crass, stripped of anything remotely poetic, they’re honest. He glances up, sending you a wink. “Better keep all of it in until we get back.”

You wish you could lay in his bed with him, letting the shared high come down peacefully. But reality comes crashing in, reminding you that time is not on your side. He takes a minute to collect his breath and collapses against the backseat, running his fingers through his soaked hair as he pushes out a dramatic sigh, “Well that’s new.”

You haven’t dared to move — not even a single inch from the fear of adding another stain to the cushion beneath you. “So…is that a kink for you?”

He blows a raspberry with a shake of his head, blurting out, “I guess…maybe. Yes? I dunno. Did I freak you out?”

You snort a laugh, “Surprisingly, no.”

He takes a long pause, and you can feel his eyes on you while he tries to decipher your reaction. “Interesting.”

“What?”

He buttons his jeans and plucks the pack of cigarettes from inside the cup holder of the center console. “I just— and don’t take this the wrong way — but can you imagine getting pregnant from this?” 

Before you can think about it, quickly adds, “I mean, in my shitty car in a parking deck after we spent the day at an aquarium high off our asses.” You can only stare at him, which does nothing but make him more nervous. Embarrassed, he mumbles around the filter of his cigarette, “Forget I said that,” 

You interrupt by extending your hand. “Lemme have one.”

You catch the surprised rise of his brows before he scrambles to light the one hanging from his lip. He then offers it between his fingers, and he watches you take a slow drag and cough out, “Jake would be so furious.”

You both burst out into a fit of laughter, releasing any tension that might have settled between you. Smoke starts filling the car, pressuring you to finally make the move to sit up. He shuffles around, finding another t-shirt from the floor before climbing to the front of the car. Once in the driver’s seat, he lays it out across the passenger seat for you as you make your way over. 

You settle while he starts the car, pulling in a second drag now that the window is down. It burns, leaving a pungent taste that trickles down your throat. “You would be a terrible dad by the way.”

He looks out and drums his fingers against the top of the steering wheel. “I think I could hold my own? Teach the little tike a few things.” Silence falls as he drives through the levels of the parking deck. His voice softens with the following sentiment, “You would be an incredible mom though.”

“Really?”

He takes a hand off the wheel and reaches over to rub your shoulder. “No doubt in my mind.”

You could get lost in those words. The thoughts and the emotions that accompany them —  they could all bubble up and spill out if you let them. Instead of falling into the depth of that rabbit hole, you choose to add levity like you always do. “Would be one helluva cute kid.”

A wave of attitude is brought to the surface, making him pipe up with a pointed finger. “I’d give you the cutest fucking baby to ever exist.”

You smack his hand down playfully. “Josh, you’re a twin.” 

“Yeah, well, I’m the better looking one anyway,” he blows out the sassy remark through a cloudy exhale. 

“You know you’d have to quit smoking if you ever became a dad.”

“I know, I know. I gotta quit,” he grumbles, flicking the ash off his cigarette out of the window. He looks over at. you, giving you an affectionate, knowing smile. There’s something in those eyes you can’t quite place, making your heart ache too much to try. “You hungry?”

“Fucking starving.” 

TAGLIST:

@gretavanbitches @dannyandthekiszkas @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @asparrowofthedawn @ageofnations @welightthefire @garbagevanfleet @lvnterninthenight @pennylanefics @writingcold @alexxavicry @gvfficrecs @jakeyboiiiiiii @doodle417 @richjaaasss @pr41sethemoon @gretavanflowerpowerrr @joshskittytickler21 @jakekiszkasbabymama @tripthelightfatality @maddie-van-fleet @sarakay-gvf @josiee-gvf @milkgemini @sammiejane22 @gretavanbear @capturethechaos @welllauragvf @averagemisfit03 @myownparadise96 @givemeyourtots2 @gretavangroove @autopsy-im-ill l @objectsinspvce @myownparadise96 @feilores @josh-iamyour-mama @givemeyourtots2 @joshkiszkasbigtoe @lightmylove-gvf @mydarlingdanny @shutupdevvie @twinszka @busybeingtrash @carlybubs @demonrat444 @high-fidelity1

[baileypie-writes]

i need a male reader with veneer asap i dont care what happends but im desperate atp🛐🛐🙏🙏

A/N ~ Sure! I hope you enjoy like the story I picked out!

~I’ll Take Care of You!~

(Part 2 here!)

Veneer x Male!Sick!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Male

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: You’re sick, and Veneer insists on taking care of you.

Warnings: Reader having a cold, Veneer being a bit protective, cringe

You felt yourself being pulled out of your dreamless sleep by your ringtone. Rolling over with a groan and a dry cough, you checked your phone to see who was calling you: Veneer. Of course.

You answered his call. “Hey, Veneer.” Your voice was raspy.

“Hey babe. Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah.” You coughed again.

“Woah, you feeling okay?” Veneer asked, concern in his voice. As you were now fully wake, you came to the realization that, no, you in fact were not feeling okay. Your throat was really sore.

“No, not really. I got a sore throat.” Before you could say anything else, a dramatic gasp came from your phone.

“Oh no, are you sick? I’m coming over!” His words came out very fast, making his concern more obvious.

“That’s okay Veneer, I can take care of myself.” You tried to calm him down. While you loved your boyfriend, you didn’t want do deal with him hovering over you all day. You just wanted to sleep. But your attempt was proven to be a failure, because you could hear him zipping up his jacket, and grabbing his car keys.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon!” Said Veneer, clearly not hearing what you said. “Love you, bye!” He hung up. You flopped onto your back and let out a long sigh.

“Well, at least I can stay in bed all day.”

~~~~

About ten minutes later, you heard a car pull into your driveway. You knew who it was, and knew he had a key to your house, so you didn’t bother getting up. You heard the door unlock and open, followed by Veneer calling your name.

“I’m in here!” You called hoarsely. You heard quick footsteps approaching your room, then your bedroom door swung open.

“Hey! How you doing?” Veneer asked, clearly still worried. He walked towards you bed. You shimmied out your covers to sit up.

“Not any better than I was ten minutes ago.”

Veneer gave you a sad look, then put his hand to your forehead. “Yikes, you’re pretty warm. Do you have a thermometer?”

“I’m pretty sure I do. It should be in the cabinet to the right of the stove.” Veneer nodded, then zipped out of the room. You heard some digging around in the kitchen, then the sound of the cabinet closing. Your boyfriend came back a few seconds later, thermometer in hand. He held it in front of your face, so you put it under your tongue.

The two of you sat in awkward silence for about twenty seconds. Then the thermometer let out a beep, signaling that it was done taking your temperature. You took it out of your mouth, and looked at the tiny screen.

“Damn, 100.2 degrees.”

“Oh no, that’s high! I’m so sorry! Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? I can make you something-” There he went again. Nervous rambling.

“I would really appreciate it if you got me some medicine and some soup.”

“You got it! Just sit back, and let your amazing boyfriend, Veneer, take care of you!” Once again, he ran to the kitchen. You sighed, and layed back down. Before you could fully fall back asleep though, a question popped up in your brain.

“Does Veneer even know how to cook?”

The question worried you for a second, but you decided that you were too tired to care. You just let yourself fall back asleep, fully trusting Veneer to take care of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[jaded-jezz]

Shutter Speed

Jack Champion x Photographer!Reader

Part 1/?

☁︎ Fluff

Summary: y/n is a photographer for the new scream promo and Jack thinks she belongs in front of the camera rather than behind.

"Y/N did you double check the SD card was empty?" My best friend and work partner, Leah, shouted from down the hall. "Yeah it was the first thing i did this morning,"

Leah and I have been working together ever since college where we met during our photography course. We have been inseparable since both landing a job at a highly praised magazine company.

Today is going to be a great day as we have been given the front cover photoshoot with full creative control too. It has been my childhood dream to have even a small picture but another front page? The feeling never gets old.

Leah and I finish packing all of our equipment into the car and we start the drive down to the studios in LA. As it’s kind of a long drive Leah starts our little road-trip with our favourite song. We scream the lyrics and laugh when the people, in the cars that pass us, give us strange looks.

To save our voices from any extreme damage, we put on some less energetic music and go over the plan for the day. “Wait, have you seen the cast for Scream 6?” Leah suddenly asks.

“Yeh like sorta… no not really” I answer scrambling for my phone. “Well we know Jenna from the Wednesday shoot so that’s less worrying right?” I say as I wait for the list to load.

“Oh yeah I forgot you did that! Do you think she will remember you?”

(Scream VI Groupchat POV)

Jenna- how close is everyone to the studio?

Devyn- I’m parked outside

Melissa- the shoot starts in half an hour

Devyn- I LIKE TO BE EARLY OK?!

Jasmine- YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BRING ME THIS EARLY TOO THO

Liana- wait you guys drove together? You could’ve invited me 🥺

Jasmine- use that emoji again and I will become ghostface

Liana- 🥺sowy🥺

‘Jasmine’ has left the group chat.

Mason- Jenna this is your fault

Jack- What the hell did I just miss?

Jenna- HOW WAS IT MY FAULT?

Mason- YOU ASKED THE QUESTION

Jack- Jenna, Mason is the reason we are running late please don’t kill us.

Jenna- thanks for actually answering jack, mason I’m going to kill you

‘Devyn’ added ‘Jasmine’ to the group.

Devyn- see you guys soon!

(Y/N POV)

“ I doubt she will remember, I didn’t really speak” I answer, as I start to cringe over my previous shoots without Leah. Leah is literally my rock, and she knows this as she looks over to me. “You will be great, I’ll be there if things get too awkward, and you have all your notes on your phone and in your notebook.” I give her a smile as I reach for said notes to calm my nerves.

When we arrive at the studio I already see two of the actors and they wave as we walk past their car. I feel a lot less stressed as I see that everything is clean for us to set up our equipment. Leah and I finish in a record time thanks to my meticulously drawn plan of the placement for lights and tripods.

One of the producers walks in to check if we are ready. He lets us know that two actors are going to be late but it won’t ruin the shoot. As he leaves to alert the cast Leah stands next to me to make sure I don’t run away.

“OMG it is you!” I hear a voice come round the corner. “I thought I recognised your name, guys this is the talent who created all the Wednesday promo!” Jenna exclaims to the group before walking over to hug me.

“It is great to see you again Jenna! And it’s lovely to meet all of you too.” I say to the room. “I’m Y/N, this is Leah and the stylists are in the other room.” I start to explain the plan for the day.

“So any questions?” I ask after I realise I’ve been talking rambling for too long. “Oh last thing, sorry, if at any point you feel uncomfortable or awkward in a pose or something, just let me know and I will sort it as fast as I can.” I let the cast go to their stylists, who they knew from set, and walk towards my camera and laptop to make sure everything is loaded up and ready to go.

“She did remember you.” Leah said in a hushed giggle as my face starts to go red.

(Jack’s POV)

We are late. Mason is late. So I’m late. I hate being late to these things. Especially when it’s people I’ve never worked with before, although I think I remember Jenna saying she’s met one of the photographers before but that doesn’t calm me down one bit.

“Hey man, chill out” Mason interrupts my internal panic. “They won’t mind, you can charm them with your good looks yeh?” He suggests. I widen my eyes to show I don’t agree. “Fine, I’ll apologise in my own way and you do it how you want too.” He sighs, jokingly.

When we finally arrive we are pushed into the changing rooms so fast that I don’t get to apologize for our lack of punctuality. I quickly change into my costume before jumping into the makeup chair, next to Mason. Once the artist has finished I text my mum to tell her I made it and left it on the vanity. I headed out to the studio once Mason was done too.

"Look who decided to show up!"

Part Two will be their meeting! Or should I say meet-cute?

Also (shameless plug) I really want to be a photographer so I would mean a lot if you followed/checked out my Instagram:

@/no.stress_jess

Please do not repost this, reblogs are appreciated.

[frozenjokes]

A Little Question About Love (It’s Not Little At All, Though Scar Is A Bit Frustrated It’s Not As Simple As It Is On TV)

“Hey, thanks again for driving me to the zoo all week, G, I really appreciate it. Still can’t believe how stiff my arm is, I mean, yeah, I expected it to hurt for a while, but I’m so sore!”

Grian chuckled in the driver’s seat, but kept his eyes on the road as he turned onto the street where the employee parking lot was located. Given how massive Scar’s zoo was, it took quite a while to navigate the surrounding area, so he needed to maintain some focus. “So sore you can’t bring your other one up to the wheel either? That sounds pretty bad, Scar, maybe I should turn this car back around and take you home. You might even need to go back to the hospital!”

“No! No no, that won’t be necessary. I just can’t drive, Grian, see, the seatbelt pushes real hard on my arm and shoulder and when I lift it like that it’s so much worse! Blame the seatbelt, blame the seatbelt.”

“And your other arm?”

“Have you heard of phantom pain?”

“Pretty sure we already discussed that’s not how phantom pain works, but sure Scar, go on.”

“Agony, Grian, agony. Can’t lift my arms,” Scar caught Grian’s eye, throwing him a wink, “Only in the car though. A very specific problem, nothing any doctor could address without wasting hours of our time.”

“Our time?”

“Well, duh, you’re my driver!” Scar laughed, and Grian joined him, unable to help himself. Scar could never accept an injury as it was and let himself rest when he needed it. Always moving, always working; that was the Scar way. An idle Scar was a miserable one; it didn’t matter what he was doing as long as he was moving, though he always did prefer to have someone to talk to. It’s why he hated to be at home for too long, or worse, the hospital he frequented as a result of his recklessness. Grian had a theory it’s why he hated driving as well. Sure, it wasn’t quite idle, but sitting still and focusing was not Scar’s forte. Of course, Grian didn’t mind.

He was content with the small silence as he pulled into the parking lot, but Scar would never let that stand.

“I’ve been thinking about something you said recently. I'm just curious, I guess.”

Grian tensed, glancing in Scar’s direction. He looked thoughtful, but in an impossibly neutral way, difficult to read. “Scar, that could mean anything, buddy. Gonna need you to be a lot more specific.”

“Oh!” Scar looked surprised, as if he hadn’t just said something deeply terrifying, “Sorry! Just thinking. It was with Mumbo, after he got upset and bit me, y’know. When I wanted to go after him, I mean. You were really worried and it kinda made me think and stuff.”

Grian deflated, his shoulders sinking a little closer to his chest, “Scar, I really don’t want to talk about that. You know it makes me upset.”

“No- it’s not about you getting upset, I know why you were and I really am sorry. That’s another thing that’s been in my mind but not the thing,” Scar began to ramble and Grian let himself fall back against the seat, resigned to the fact that this was happening. He didn’t want to have this conversation again. He just didn’t want Scar to get himself killed; a high order apparently.

Scar continued regardless, “It was more about.. I dunno, I mean, I’d say we’re pretty close. We’re close, right?” Scar didn’t give Grian any time to answer, “And you said that I mean a lot to you, and you mean a lot to me too, but I don’t know what that means to me, and then you said that I’ve got a lot of people who love me, but it kinda sounded like you were saying you loved me, and that’s great, I also have feelings that are like that, but I also also don’t know what that means really, to love someone. And I was just thinking about it. I love you, of course I do, but what does that mean? Does it mean anything? When you told me you loved me, what did that mean to you?”

Grian gaped. What the fuck else could he do. What the fuck was even happening here???

“Scar. Are you. What are you asking here. What are you saying.”

“I love you.”

“Okay.” Grian gripped the wheel so hard he was sure his nails would leave indents. He didn’t even bother trying to park; halfway between the lines of two spots would have to do. “You love me. What does that mean.”

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked you.” Scar was infuriatingly relaxed, like this was just a normal conversation with zero implications at all.

“I can’t tell you how you feel, Scar!”

“Well you said you loved me first, so I was asking you what that meant.”

“I didn’t- I said people love you, Scar, like your friends and family! That people would be very upset if you died doing something dumb- it- it wasn’t meant to be some kind of confession?”

“Oh, I didn’t think so!” Scar threw up his hands in defense, like that was at all obvious.

“Then what did you think?”

“I thought that you loved me.”

“Of course I love you- obviously I love you. What is happening here? Why are you so stuck on this?”

“I just don’t know what it means. I don’t know how to tell the difference and I thought that if you loved me you might be able to tell me. I feel like I love everyone the same, and that’s all sorts of confusing. I mean, maybe besides family love, but that’s more complicated, there’s like- layers.”

Grian had to fight to keep himself from gaping. This was not the conversation he thought he’d be having today. “Well,” he forced his voice back into a more even tone, something a little nicer, “For me, yeah, kinda. There’s a lot that goes into love, layers, like you said. There’s the kinda unconditional respect I have for most everyone, and it builds from there? Friendship of course, elements of physical attraction can further things sometimes. Attraction in general makes a big difference, and not just physical, it’s an emotional thing too. Personality. Mannerisms. It’s a slow thing for me most of the time. That’s not always the case though, some people fall fast. For me it’s like.. a slow infatuation with the wholeness of someone. Not necessarily loving every trait, but kinda respecting it, y’know?”

“Like friends.”

“Like- no, not like friends, like being in love. Romantically.”

“That’s friends though.”

“It’s not- Scar how many of your friends do you feel all those ways about- how many of your friends are you physically attracted to?”

“A few. Close friends, Grian, obviously. And come on, like all of our shared friends are hot, physical attraction can not be the deciding factor here, that does not make any sense.”

Grian shrugged. “We do have many hot friends.”

“I know! I think you’re attractive.”

If Grian had been drinking anything he would have spit it all over the dashboard, “You- Scar!” Scar didn’t seem to notice his words had any effect though, rambling on.

“I mean, seriously, what the hell is supposed to be the difference here! Platonic, romantic, I’m half convinced everyone has just been lying to me. I keep waiting for all these rainbows and sparkles to light up in my brain and go yup! There it is! That’s romance, that’s love, and it’s like- yeah love as in my friends who I love dearly, who I’d happily spend the rest of my life with if I got the chance-“

“-Scar-“

“-Yeah, I mean obviously when I tell you I love you I mean very explicitly every single one of those things you mentioned. Every! One! I don’t hand out ‘I love yous’ for free, I mean it. That’s not the same for everyone though, and that doesn’t bother me or anything, but doesn’t it feel a little confusing sometimes? So that wasn’t what you meant when you said that, right?” Scar looked at him so genuinely, so innocently, like that was the easiest question to answer in the world.

“Uhm. Yeah, I. Love. I love you, Scar.”

“Great!” Scar preened, apparently fully, completely, entirely satisfied with what just happened here, “This is great. Glad we’re on the same page.” And then he gathered his things and just left. Opened the car door, personal items in hand, and walked away with a goddamn smile on his face before Grian could even hope to yell out the window, WE ARE NOT ON THE SAME PAGE.

Instead, he buried his head in his hands, screamed a little, punched the passenger seat, let his face hit the car horn, then drove home, feeling overall very normal about that little conversation.

read the rest of the fic here

[0-hoony]

raspberry lip gloss

pairing : j.sc x fem!reader ish genre : angst !! (i promise its not as sad as the combo of pics i chose) cw/tw : reader is kinda confsuing (and confused) as hell + kisses + raspberry + swearing + not proofread wc : 0.8k

you were not having a great day. 

with all the projects and schoolwork your teachers sadistically enjoyed piling over you, the only thing you had to look forward to was lunch. which was now taken up by some girl, jiwoo or jisu or something – you’re not really sure, and frankly, don’t really care. 

she seems totally unaware of your annoyance, so you take it as a win; that one youtube video on how to pretend that you're not 10 seconds away from committing several criminal acts must have worked. 

jisu (or jiwoo), finally speaks up, “so uh.. please don’t take this the wrong way.. but are you and sungchan um t-together?” … she was this hesitant and terrified to ask you that?

“no? we’re just friends; what even gave you the impressio-”

“oh thank goodness!” she interrupts, sighing with relief, “that was all and i’m sorry to have taken your lunch time..”

without waiting for an answer, you watch as she runs back towards someone who you assumed was a friend of hers. you hear the other one’s critical and harshly disapproving tone, “girl how delusional can you be.. have you seen him?? the guy’s obviously fucking mad about her!”

to that jisu/jiwoo easily provides an answer, “i’m going to be so real sweetheart - i don’t care if he is ‘cause like – have you seen him?? i’d be okay being the homewrecker for that, if you know what i mean~”

you’re not a huge fan of this conversation.

“... you’re mad.” 

“ugh only for him~ like c’mon have you seen him. he’s just soo-” -

“sec c!”

“what.”

“the answer yn.. (1+sin c) divided by (cos c) would be secant c! god, i’m great at this trigonometry shit.” sungchan is rather delighted at having solved one of the easiest questions from the practice test papers you were both had been working on for the past few hours. 

you let him ramble on about how he could literally solve all of these in minutes it’s just that he chose not to, allowing your mind to drift away with his soothing voice.

you think of that girl (jiwoo.. or jisu?) and how she was probably planning on confessing to your friend sometime in the future. which was probably why she asked if there was something going on between the two of you..

“oh right!” he suddenly announces, “jisu from your class confessed to me after school today.” you definitely can sense a hint of amusement by his tone; but also..

damn jiwoo worked fast huh?

“i’m assuming you turned her down?” you quip back playfully 

“excuse me?? assuming?? what do you mean by that??” sungchan always takes your banter the right way – it’s one of the things you’re very fond of about the guy.

“just.. i don’t think you’d be here with me if you’d had a girlfriend by now~” ruffle his hair a bit to emphasize that this is friendly, you’re teasing him platonically.

his smile drops at that, “i would never leave you like that yn; not for anyone.” and there it is.

you opt to let his words sink in hang in the air for some time.

“heyy yn. what’s up with you you’ve been actin’ weird all dayy..” sungchan asks, snapping his fingers in a somewhat desperate attempt to break your haze. 

choosing to stay silent again; you’re not really sure how to answer his question. follow it up by dropping your eyes down to his lips and back to his eyes, as if posing a question of your own.

and he knows the answer. he always does. 

sungchan pulls himself closer to you, cupping your cheek with one hand. a brush of his lips to yours, as if testing the waters, before he completely closes the distance between you both. 

the kiss is long, drawn out. but at the same time it’s .. soft. when you break apart for air, his lips have the slight sheen of your raspberry lip gloss. it looks pretty on him.

“this.” you blurt out, “this is wrong. we- friends don’t do shit like this.” 

but he’s just as quick to fight back, “so let’s not be friends then. let’s be more.”

“sungchan.. i wouldn’t.. i couldn’t bear–” not being enough. not being perfect for him.

“couldn’t bear the idea of dating me. yeah okay i got it.” he’s slow to pack up his stuff, and all you can do is numbly try to process it all..,

“what are you trying to say.”

“i’m leaving. i- i can’t do this right now. i’ll see you later.” he leans to kiss your forehead lightly.

flinching slightly at his touch, you swallow the lump in your throat, to choke out an, “i think we should stop this. for good.” 

your closeness makes you feel like you physically hear his heart shatter into a million pieces, or maybe that’s just yours. 

“what happens to us then…?”

“sungchan.. that’s the thing. there was never an us.”

he leaves without another word.

-

at school the next day, you see him with his arm wrapped around jiwoo’s waist (shit no, you think it’s jisu). you can almost swear that there’s an ever so slight pink shimmer to his lips... and.. is that your lip gloss in his pocket?

notes : fell into a rabbit hole while doign chem idek </3 + [m.list]

[blue-and-grey-army]

- - C A R A M E L - -

Before the melting

Genre: BTS, Idol AU, poly au, BTS x reader, OT7, OT7 x reader, Idol BTS, Dom BTS, sub reader, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Warnings: BTS x reader, very subby reader, innocent reader, power play, eventual smut, sexual and non sexual domination, a lot of skinship (but like lots) excessive pet names, sexism, anxiety, insecurities, possessive behavior, maybe BTS x BTS etc…

…

“Sunbaes, did you hear about the new girl serving in the cafeteria?” Yeonjun asked them as he saw them all sitting in one of the lounges of Big Hit’s building. They had just gotten out of a gym session together, so they looked pretty much exhausted.

“A new girl? I didn’t know they had hired new staff” Namjoon answered without showing any interest, since he was looking at some new art collection magazine he had found laying around.

“Hmm, Soobin told me the other day. Seems like she is quite eye catching. He thought you all may like her, but he doesn’t have the courage to tell you” He goes to continue speaking, but an alarm suddenly starts to go off on his phone, and his face changes quickly. “Oh no! I’m late for rehearsal! I’ll see you around sunbaes!” The boy runs off, and all bangtan members chuckle at him.

“Jimin, wanna go get some coffee?” Taehyung’s voice fills the air a couple seconds later, and the elder of them all laughs openly at him.

“You want to go check the new girl out, don’t you?” Seokjin shakes his head disapprovingly, but Taehyung just shoots him a boxy smile and shrugs innocently.

“What makes you think so? I’m suddenly craving for some coffe, you know, to keep me awake”

“You don’t even like coffee, you moron” Yoongi side-eyes him, and Taehyung visibly shivers, exaggerating the effects of his hyung’s cold stare. To everyone’s surprise, Yoongi stands from his place on the couch, and starts walking towards the elevators. All the members sent him surprised looks, and he scoffs with a very light blush on his ears. “What? I’m actually craving a cup”

“Of course you are, Hyung” Jungkook speaks, taking small little jumps towards the elevator while being followed by the other two members of the Maknae line and Jin. Namjoon and Hoseok choosing to stay behind, both attention caught on other stuff.

The elevator trip is short but lively, as they are all chatting and teasing each other. Soon enough they are all on the ground floor, we’re the cafeterias are located. There are a few of them on the same building, one being exclusive for the workers idols of Hybe. They walk in, noting something different in the atmosphere, and they see some of the members of Lesserafim standing at the counter with teasing smiles and chuckling to themselves.

“Chaewonnie, what’s going on here?” Jin is the first to approach them curiously and to question their doings.

“Oh! Sunbaes!” All the members do their respectful bows at the presence of the Bangtan members, but soon go back to their relaxed stance “We are waiting for our coffees, right girls?”

Both Yunjin and Sakura chuckle softly, and the Maknae line shared a confused look. What could be so funny about picking some coffee up?

Their answers come soon enough when the doors to the inside bakery of the café open, and a new face comes out of it with flushed cheeks and some flour staining your uniform. You trip with your own feet, but somehow manage not to drop their orders and regain your balance. Your flush only increases when you realize there’s more people than when you left. None other than some of the BTS members, one of your favorite groups, and they all saw you making a fool of yourself.

“I’m so so sorry for taking so long, the red velvet cookies were not ready so I had to make a new batch and there was no flour so I had to go fetch more and the ovens weren’t working correctly so I had to call for help and today I’m alone managing the café…” You apologize sincerely as you ramble, bowing repeated and anxiously at the girls who just look at you fondly.

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart? Doing all that just so Sakura could have her cookies”

Your rambling gets interrupted by the way you start to stutter nervously and how your blush intensifies til it reaches your ears, and the girls giggle, affirming you are to easy to tease. They pay you and offer you some kind words as goodbyes, leaving you to it.

The boys were absolutely dazed by you.

Yoongi didn’t dare to make a move. You looked so…tiny and fragile, like even the smallest of movements would scare you away. But your eyes were beautiful, shiny like a doll’s, but yours were full of life. You reminded him of a puppy, with your big eyes waiting for a head pat, some praising words or a pretty collar. And he wanted to give all of them to you.

Jungkook wanted to tuck you in his pocket and bring you back to their shared apartment, where he would roll you in a blanket and hand feed you until you were chirping for him to stop. Maybe put his fingers inside your mouth and let you suckle on them until you fell sleep…or until he made you gag with them if the mood allowed it.

Taehyung…Taehyung just wanted to have you in his arms, mumbling soft words in your ear until you were writhing from the tickling it would cause on your sensitive skin. Because you seemed to have the most sensitive of skins, with the way the delicate flushed seemed to decorate it. How fun would it be to add some pretty marks to it…

Jimin was looking at your plump lips, and the way they were swelling a bit from how much you had been chewing on them. He wanted to bite them too, or maybe give them a better use. You also looked thin, a little too thin for his liking, so he wanted to make sure you were eating and sleeping properly. He couldn’t have such a pretty thing uncared for.

Jin was specially affected by you. All of them had a big weakness for small, cute, innocent things, but he considered himself the biggest fan of those characteristics. He wanted to dress you in the prettiest of lace clothing…yeah, lace would suit your fair and soft skin, maybe satin too. Undo your messy bun and help you do your hair so your pretty neck would be at his disposal and help massage the tension off your back…Oh he could already imagine your beautiful naked back and…

“W-w-would you like to order? Or you need more time? I-I can give you more time if you need…or I can just shut up…”

Oh, they were in for a ride.

And wait until Namjoon and Hoseok had their toll on you.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (8)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Please note the updated warnings. These next few chapters are a new stage of Bradley and Pumpkin growing back together, and while I'm very excited about it, I know it may not be for everyone. For everyone who sticks around, please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

-------

You’re working today. You hadn’t wanted to, but a local congresswoman you had requested an interview with months ago finally agreed to a conversation in her office, and Bradley wouldn’t let you pass it up. It was only for a few hours, but he finds himself missing you while you’re gone. 

This is the first time he had really been alone in the house for a long period of time since he got back from the hospital a month ago, and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. He had tried to read a book, or get lost in a movie, but nothing had really kept his attention. He was laying on the couch, the news on the tv in the background, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. He hadn’t fully dove into all that it contained, and he figured now was the time to do it, even if you weren’t here to answer any questions that he might have. 

It’s interesting, seeing himself this way. Groupchats where he was an active participant, talking about parties or plans he has no recollection of, or discussing flight schedules for the week. He swaps Star Wars and Harry Potter trivia with Fanboy and gym regimes with Hangman and sends music back and forth with Coyote.  

When he opens the text thread he has with you, the only one pinned to the top of his messages, his breath catches at the last message received. 

 I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.

It was sent the day of his accident, and he knew by the time stamp that it was sent after the crash. You must have texted that to him while you were waiting for news on his condition, and not for the first time, he feels both guilt and gratitude go through him; he’s so sorry that he’s hurt you like this, but he’s so glad he’s here now. 

He scrolls for a while, reading you rambling to him about your work day and bouncing ideas for articles off of him, jumping from one topic to the next while you know he’s in the air or teaching a class so he doesn’t have his phone on him. Based on his responses that come later on, he knows he never minded the almost nonsensical messages. Even now, he finds it adorable and enjoys reading through them. There are conversations about dinner and what true crime documentary the two of you were going to watch that weekend. 

There’s a little bit of everything in these messages between the two of you, but his brow furrows when he gets to a point about a week before his accident. 

I’m on my way home, he had texted you, You better be ready for me, Pumpkin. 

He scrolls further up, trying to find the beginning of the conversation that led to that, and he almost wishes he wouldn’t have. 

You had texted him earlier that morning, when he barely must have left the house to go to base, a picture of you. There was a playful smirk on your lips, and you had what looked to be the cap from his formal dress whites perched crooked on your head. That in and of itself wasn’t what made his breath hitch, though. It was the fact that you were still in bed, your arm draped over your chest where he could see everything but everything, you hanging onto only a single shred of decency. 

Fly well today, Lieutenant Commander. 

It had descended into a day full of teasing from there, each message dirtier than the one before. Descriptions of what you wanted him to do to you and him warning you of what he would do when he got his hands on you. He feels flushed all over, but he keeps scrolling up. He bypasses recipes you wanted his opinion on and a reminder of what the Hulu password was, and eventually finds more pictures. Some are more risque than others, but all of them make him feel like the temperature in the room rose by multiple degrees. 

There’s a tickle in his brain again, and he finds himself closing the messaging app and going to his photo albums. There’s a locked album there, and he knows, he just knows what it’s going to contain. 

He shouldn’t. He knows that he shouldn’t. It feels like a strange invasion of privacy. But he’s wracking his mind to try and remember what the code would be to get into it anyway, and he curses when he gets it wrong first once, then a second time. He enters your birthday on the third attempt and groans out loud when he’s immediately met with the filthiest images he’s ever seen. 

It’s a whole gallery of you, or the two of you together, and Bradley can’t stop himself from looking. He bites his lip as he takes in the photos, his mind so overrun with thoughts of how fucking stunning you are that he can barely think straight at all. 

He stops at one in particular, clicking to enlarge it, and loses all thoughts entirely. Neither of your faces are in it, but he doesn’t need to guess that it’s the two of you. You’re sitting back against his chest, his ankles hooked over your legs, forcing them wide for him. He can see your nails biting into his thighs, but it’s his own hand that draws his attention. With the hand that’s not taking the selfie style photo, his fingers are gliding through the wetness gathered between your legs. You shine against the dark wedding band on his left land, one that’s noticeably absent from his finger now. He’s practically panting as he stares. 

He’s so hypnotized by the way the two of you look together that he doesn’t hear the garage door open or the sound of you walking into the house. 

“Baby?” 

Your voice makes him jump so high that his phone goes flying out of his hand, a curse leaving his lips. He scrambles to pick it up when he sees you reaching for it as well, and your eyebrows are raised high as you look at him in surprise. 

“Hey,” his voice cracks, higher pitched than normal, and he blushes. Your eyebrows raise a little bit higher. “Hi, sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yup,” he nods, faking a cough so he could try to clear his throat, his face flushed. “Totally fine.” 

It’s not difficult to see how skeptical you are, and it’s hard for him to maintain eye contact with you and not let his eyes flicker down your body now that he has an idea of what rests underneath the smart dress you wore. 

You eye him suspiciously, “Are you sure?”  

He contemplates for a moment, trying to figure out a way to get himself out of this conversation, because the longer you looked at him like that the hotter he became under the collar. He took a deep breath, nodding again. 

“I was looking at messages and pictures,” he says all in one breath, not liking the idea of completely lying to you. He rationalized that a different version of the truth was okay, even as the pictures flashed in his mind again. “Trying to see if anything jogged my memory.” 

You search his eyes, and he tries his best to appear innocent, willing the hardening in his jeans to go down before you took notice. He suspected you already might have from the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Did it?” 

If he thought hard enough he swore he could almost feel you. Your back against his chest, how soft your inner thighs left. How warm your wetness felt against his fingers as he took you to the edge. 

“No,” he stutters out after a moment, shaking his head, his face burning, “nothing yet.” 

________

He finds himself rubbing his thumb against the fading tan line on his left ring finger, something he had seen you do time and time again. He hadn’t really wondered up until this point where his ring was, but ever since he saw the picture with it so clearly against your skin, he couldn’t get it out of his head. 

He’s helping you in the kitchen a few days later, mesmerized as always by how efficient and easy you made everything look. You roll your eyes when he comments on it.

“It’s cookies, Bradley. Nothing fancy.”

“But they’re from scratch. The dough isn’t pre-made. That’s fancy!” 

You laugh at him in response, shaking your head. You take the rings on your left hand off, sitting them beside the sink as you wash your hands before the two of you get started. It raises the subject back to the forefront of his mind. He had been desperate to ask you for the last few days, but hadn’t built up the courage to do it. But he can almost feel it on his finger now, can feel a ghost of your fingers as you slide it into place, and it’s suddenly more of a need to know. 

“Can I uh…can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” 

“What happened to my wedding ring?” 

You pause from where you’re cracking an egg into the mixing bowl, your eyebrows raised high. You set it down gently, turning to face him. 

“Does it bother you…that I wear mine, still?” 

“No!” he insists, hating even the idea of you taking it off. “It doesn’t bother me at all. I promise. We just have never acknowledged mine? I know that I wear one - I remember wearing one, and I’ve seen it in pictures, too.” 

“You love your ring,” you tell him softly, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. But you give him a small smile, though he can see the pain in your eyes, and shake your head. 

“You don’t fly with it on,” you explain, “you tried, at first, but you had been flying so long without anything on your hands that you couldn’t get used to it being there when you were operating the controls.” 

He thinks for a moment and the words come to him slowly. “You were the one who told me to start taking it off when I fly.” 

“I was.” 

“Why?”

Your lips quirk and you shrug. “I’m more worried about you flying safely than wearing your ring at all times. You keep it in one of the pockets of your flight suit when you go up in the air now.” 

Of course you were more worried for him. He should have expected nothing less from you and the way you effortlessly care for him. He can also picture that, he thinks. It’s easy to imagine not wanting to be separated from the physical reminder that he belongs to you, so even if he couldn’t wear it, he’d at least have it on him, in the inner chest pocket right above his heart. 

“So..” He doesn’t quite know how to ask his question, but you must read it on his face. 

You twist your own ring on your finger in the way you always seemed to do to center yourself. Pain flashed across your face and Bradley knew you were remembering, too. “They uh..they had to cut your flight suit off, before you went into surgery. You weren’t breathing and were bleeding…” you cut yourself off, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking the visual from your head. “But it was still in your pocket. So. I have it.” 

He sets down the bag of chocolate chips he had been holding and walks the few steps to where you’re standing at the counter. When he holds his arms open, you don’t hesitate to step into them. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as he breathes in your scent. 

“I’m so sorry I put you through that,” he whispers into the strands of your hair, and he feels the way you squeeze him in response. 

“You’re okay now,” you speak into his chest, and he thinks he might feel you press a kiss there, directly over the spot where that inner pocket of his flight suit would be, where he kept you when he had no other choice. 

The two of you stand there wrapped up together for a long moment. When you lift your head, your eyes are glassy, but you give him a smile and a small kiss to his lips. 

Later, after the cookies have been made and devoured, you join him on the back porch. You had taken to sitting on the swing together and when you sit beside him tonight, he sees you rolling something between your fingers. His breath catches when he sees exactly what it is. You’re staring at it too, your gaze intense and pondering. He doesn’t speak, not quite knowing what to say. Eventually, you break out of your haze and meet his eyes. 

“You don’t have to put it back on,” you tell him, holding your hand out to him. His wedding band sits on your palm, shining against your skin. For a moment he sees you in white standing right in front of him, wildflowers in your hair.  

His fingertips brush yours when he takes it from you, admiring the piece of jewelry he wasn’t aware that he missed until it was back in his possession. 

“But it’s yours. I want - I want you to have it.”

He rolls it between his fingers, contemplating for a moment. He swallows, suddenly overcome with emotion he hadn’t seen coming and that tingling that’s starting to become familiar to him. You had picked it out yourself and he knows when he looks, he’ll see an engraving of your initials beside his. He was always so proud to be able to wear this, knowing that it symbolized being with you, a small way of telling anyone who saw it that he was lucky enough to be your husband. 

But he wasn’t him - not yet, not completely. Everyday brought him closer to thinking that he could be, though.

“Pumpkin, I…” he trailed off, not sure what to say. 

“Hey,” you murmur, cupping his cheek and turning his head to meet your eyes. You didn’t look mad, or upset, and you’re giving him the gentlest, kindest look anyone ever had. But your eyes didn’t hold pity or sympathy either - just a trust and love that he’s still not sure what he could have ever done to deserve. “Whenever you’re ready. And if you never are-” 

“I will be,” he cut you off; he wanted nothing more than to be ready. “I just…I still have something to prove to myself.” 

You nod, and Bradley leans forward to kiss you softly. He leaves his forehead pressed against yours when he pulls away, relishing in the calm you brought him. 

“I’ll get there,” he says, “I promise.” 

—------

He’s spent time alone, but he hasn’t spent time away from you with other people. He’s hesitant to accept the invite from Mav to visit the hanger he had here. But planes and his godfather had been a staple of Bradley’s childhood, an influence on his whole life, really. He had been cleared to drive earlier in the week, so that Saturday, he leaves early. He’s anxious at the thought of being away from you but he knows that the him from before wouldn’t have said no to the invitation and he was so determined to get back to who that was. And he knows that you have a life outside of taking care of him, too. You’re getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife later and he knows you’re excited, even if you hung onto him a little bit longer than a normal hug when he said goodbye. You had made him promise that he would call you if he needed anything and the whole way to the desert, his fingers twitched, wanting to call you just to hear your voice. 

Mav greets him with a large smile and a tight hug, “I’m glad you could make it.” 

“Me too,” Bradley says. He means it, even if he does miss you already. He looks around the hanger, taking note of the few planes and motorcycles throughout the long stretch. It was a lot more than the collection he had when Bradley was 17. “What are we working on today?” 

Mav gives him his signature grin. “I want to show you something.” 

He follows him to the end of the hanger, where a large blue tarp is covering what can’t be anything but a plane. His godfather gestures to it. Bradley raises an eyebrow but walks up to it, grabbing hold of the tarp and yanking it back. Like he suspected, he’s greeted by a Cessna. It’s a classic 172 by the looks of it, a smaller four seater. It’s a sleek white in color with subtle burnt orange line work. Bradley whistles. It was beautiful in a way that only planes like this could be. 

“When’d you get this one?” 

Mav smirks, shaking his head. “I didn’t.” 

“What?” 

“Take a look at the other side.” He nods his head, urging Bradley forward. Confused and intrigued, he follows the instructions, walking around to the other side of the small plane. He gets what Mav was saying, then, and sucks in a breath. Right there emblazoned on the side, in an elegant script, was Pumpkin.

This wasn’t Mav’s plane; it was his. 

“You got her about six months ago,” he says softly when he joins him at his side. 

Bradley reaches up and runs his fingers over the name. It’s foggy, but he thinks he can remember now. He had always wanted to own his own plane since the first time his godfather took him up in one at 6 years old. It was always a pipedream, though. He was never in one place for long enough, and while he was generally good with saving money, it was a bigger purchase than he had ever made. But then the two of you got married and a permanent station here in California. Between both of your savings and what he still had of his parents life insurance, the funds were there. It was you who had made the suggestion of finally pulling the trigger, and it was him who had suggested a four seater instead of a two seater so that if the two of you ever had children, you could all fly together. You cried when he showed you the name he had painted on it. 

“Still needs some work done before she’s flyable. I thought maybe you’d want to work on it today.” 

An eager smile appears on his face and he nods, already peeling his jacket off and heading toward the toolbox. If Mav noticed that he didn’t need to instruct him on where it was, he didn’t comment on it. 

The two work in tandem for hours. It had only been six weeks since his accident, but he couldn’t recall a time since flight school that he had gone this long without being near a plane and it felt good doing so again. It’s easy, getting into the rhythm of twisting bolts and tinkering with the engine wires. He thinks it won’t be long until he can get this cleared to go in the air and he knows without a doubt that you’re going to be the first passenger. 

His phone buzzes in the early afternoon and he doesn’t hesitate to put down the wrench he was working with and dig it out of his jeans pocket. You had sent him a selfie earlier when you had gotten to brunch, sunglasses on and a bright smile on your face with a mimosa in your hand, and he hoped it was another picture. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s Phoenix calling him, instead. He picks up, bringing the phone to his ear. 

“Nat?” 

“Your wife got stung by a bee. We’re on our way to the hospital.” 

He can feel the dread as it settles over him. His heart beats faster in his chest. “What?” 

She sighs on the other line, and he can hear commotion in the background. “She’s severely allergic, Rooster. We sat outside at brunch and we didn’t even realize it happened at first. She didn’t have her epipen on her so we had to call an ambulance. She’s going to be fine, but you should get here anyway, okay?” 

He feels like he can barely breathe, like the room is closing in on him a little bit. Mav must notice the panic written all over him because he’s quick to come over and take the phone out of his hand, taking over the conversation. He can barely hear him over the roaring in his head. You were hurt. He knew you were extremely allergic to bees. That was something he had remembered. You were supposed to carry an epipen on you at all times. He can’t remember if you’d ever gotten stung when he was there. He can’t remember how bad it got if you ever were. But now you were in the back of an ambulance and on your way to a hospital and he could feel his fear all the way down to his bones. 

“Bradley, hey. Look at me.” 

Mav is in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders. He meets his eyes and tries to breathe, but all he can see is you, struggling to catch a breath and being loaded into the back of an ambulance. 

“I’ll drive, okay? Let’s go.” 

He follows him to the car, not really calculating anything other than the fact that he was almost an hour away from you and what if there was traffic and why didn’t you have your epipen on you? 

“She’s going to be okay.” 

“But-” 

“Phoenix said the paramedics administered epi as soon as they arrived, and it didn’t take them long to get to her. She was awake and was already breathing easier when they left for the hospital. Didn’t even need to use the sirens.” 

That doesn’t make him feel better. Not really. Knowing that trained professionals weren’t panicking must have meant that you were okay, but he knows how serious anaphylaxis is, too. 

He can’t reconcile everything that he’s feeling right now. He has never, ever felt like this before. The thought of something happening to you is scarier than any mission he had ever been on, any enemy he had encountered in the air. 

“Mav I can’t - I can’t lose her. I just got her.” 

“You aren’t going to.” 

Bradley doesn’t say anything, can’t think of a single thing to say, and instead buries his head in his hands from his spot in the passenger seat. You were going to be okay. You had to be okay. Because he may not remember everything about the two of you, but he did know for certain that if something ever happened to you, he would never, ever recover from it. 

He doesn’t wait for Mav once they get to the hospital, the older man opting to drop him off at the front before going to find parking. He’s practically sprinting as he goes through the emergency room doors and vaguely, he remembers you telling him about the time this happened before, when you took yourself to the hospital and ended up needing surgery. He can almost feel that panic now, and it makes what he’s already feeling worse. 

“Can I help-“

“I’m looking for my wife. She was brought in because of a bee sting-“

“Sir-“

“She’s really allergic and-“

“Sir!” The nurse behind the counter snaps, raising her voice over his to get through to him. “I need your wife’s name if I’m going to find her for you.”

Oh. Yes, he thinks, your name. They need your name. 

It’s the first time he’s said your full name, and your first and his last name feel so right coming off his tongue. But he can’t focus on that right now, giving all of his attention to the nurse who is typing so slowly. 

Before she can even hit enter, though, he hears his callsign echo behind him. He spins, heart racing with anxiety, and spots Nat making her way over to him. She gives the annoyed nurse a kind, charming smile as she grabs Bradley by the arm 

“Sorry about him, ma’am. I got him from here.”

She pulls him away without another word, heading toward the hallway off the packed waiting room. 

“Is she okay? Nat, is-“

“She’s fine, Rooster. Coming down from the adrenaline rush that the epinephrine gave her, but she’ll be okay.”

“What about-“

Nat stops in front of a closed door, lowering her voice. “Bradley. She’s okay.” 

He’s pushing past her before she even finishes, spotting you on the bed through the glass and half drawn curtain. You look so small amongst the crinkly white sheets, still in the clothes you wore to brunch. Your makeup is a bit smudged and your eyes are red and he hates to think that you were scared enough to start crying. You’re holding an oxygen mask in your hand at your side. 

“Hi baby.” Even your voice sounds more pitched. He’s quick to make it to your side. 

Your breathing is slightly elevated, and the heart monitor is beating a little bit faster than he thinks is normal. He grabs the hand holding the mask, placing it over your mouth to start providing you with the supplemental air again. You make a small sound of surprise, but take in a deep breath of it anyway before pushing his hand away. 

“I’m okay.”

But your hands are shaking and your eyes are wider than normal. The skin that he can see is splotchy with hives. 

He looks back at Nat, who is still hovering in the doorway, an eyebrow arched and a small smirk on her face. He ignores the look. “Can you grab a doctor?”

You protest from the bed, but Bradley doesn’t waiver. With a fond roll of her eyes, Nat disappears from view. 

“Bradley. Sweetheart.” You grip his wrist, trying to get him to focus on you. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“You’re in the emergency room because you went into anaphylactic shock. You are not fine.” 

“But I am,” you insist, smiling softly at him, even as your body trembles as it works to burn through the adrenaline that was injected into it, “medicine worked just fine.” 

The door slides open before he can respond, an attending doctor who looks like he’s been up for longer than is healthy and in wrinkled green scrubs introducing himself as he walks in.

“Is she okay?” Bradley demands immediately, and the tired man looks startled for a moment at how abrupt the question was. Bradley stares at him, his eyes wide and unblinking as he waits for the answer. His heart is still pounding in his chest. He feels you tangle one of your hands with one of his and he squeezes back when he feels the pressure from you. He knows you’re trying to reassure him. 

“And you are…?” 

“I’m her husband,” he answers easily, the words falling off his tongue like he had said them a thousand times before. You suck in a small breath and tighten your grip on his hand again. 

“Ah,” the doctor hums, flipping through the chart he’s holding. Bradley wonders if all non-military hospitals move this slowly or if it was just because of how anxious he is at this moment, but he really, really needs him to answer his question. 

“Is she okay?” he repeats. 

“Bradley,” you murmur, but he keeps his eyes trained on the man in the scrubs and white coat. 

“She responded well to the epinephrine that was administered by the paramedics who brought her in,” he finally says, looking up from the chart and taking a step toward your side. He stops when he sees that Bradley doesn’t move an inch. He sighs, switching direction to go to your other side instead. “How are you feeling Mrs. Bradshaw?”

You answer his questions as they come, Bradley paying rapt attention the whole time. Your throat doesn’t feel tight anymore. You aren’t lightheaded, but you do feel a little shortness of breath. You feel jittery - wired, almost. You’re both assured that it’s completely normal as the drug works its way out of your system. They can give you something to try and calm you down, and they want you to stay for a few hours to make sure you don’t go back into the allergic reaction once the epinephrine has worn off. The thought makes his blood run cold. 

“Should she stay overnight?” he asks, but the doctor shakes his head no. 

“The standard observation timeslot should be just fine, Mr. Bradshaw. But we’ll make sure you both know what to look out for when you leave.” 

He walks out without saying much else. Bradley feels you tug on his hand, his name leaving your lips in a whisper. He meets your gaze and he watches as your eyes soften even more. 

“Sit down, honey.” 

He listens to you, dragging the chair beside your bed as close as possible. He rests his elbows on the mattress beside you, holding your hand tightly between both of his. 

“I’m okay,” you repeat again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your fingers and taking a deep breath. “I…this really scared me.” 

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” you say softly, running your thumb over one of the hands holding yours, soothing the skin and helping his racing heart. Your touch is like magic to him, providing an almost instant calm that he desperately needed. Guilt curled in his stomach, knowing that even now, you’re the one helping him. 

“I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around.” 

“We comfort each other, baby. That’s how this works.” 

“Why didn’t you have your epipen on you, Pumpkin? Don’t you normally carry it?” he asks quietly, a touch of urgency still in his tone. He couldn’t stop thinking about what would have happened if you were alone and this happened, with no one around to call 911. He could have lost you, all over a silly little bee sting, and he can’t wrap his mind around that. He just got you. He had had you, he knew. But he was just getting you back. 

“I switched bags this morning and forgot to take it out of the pocket of the old one, I guess. I haven’t had to use one since college. I forget about it, sometimes.” 

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to rid himself of the worst case scenarios. He’s the one that normally reminds you to always have it on you, he thinks. He vaguely recalls having a spare in the glove compartment of the Bronco, and in the drawer in the kitchen and maybe one in the bedroom, too. 

Not for the first time, he curses his memory and the accident that took it from him. 

When he opens his eyes, his look is intense, “Never again, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, but Bradley shakes his head. 

“No. Promise me. Please?”

Your lips part and you stare at him for a long moment. His gaze never waivers from yours. He needs you to listen to him. To hear him. 

“I promise,” you finally whisper. 

He rises from the chair, pressing a kiss to your lips. He keeps his forehead against yours, breathing you in. 

“Will you lay with me?” You ask quietly, shy in a way reminiscent of when you asked him to say I love you on the porch all those weeks ago. He hates that you felt you even needed to ask. 

With no hesitation, he maneuvered himself into the small bed beside you. He kisses your forehead once, twice, three times, holding you as tightly as he could. Your body still gave the occasional tremble but they had lessened now, your breaths coming a little bit easier, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease. 

“Sorry for being a mess,” he whispers into your hair. 

“Don’t,” you whisper back, and he feels you shake your head from where it’s tucked into his chest. “It means you care.”

The words are there, right on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t say them, not yet or here. You deserve more than a frantic hospital room confession.

-------

Part Nine :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! We're nearing the end, but I think everyone is really going to like the next chapter. Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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