HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi
(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)
~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak
Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:
The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)
An insane growth spurt
Probably shell shock syndrome
And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses
TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.
It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.
One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.
A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.
With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.
Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.
Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”
“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”
“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.
“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.
“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.
Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”
“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”
“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”
“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.
“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”
“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”
“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.
“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.
“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”
“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.
Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.
When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.
“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”
“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.
“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”
You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”
“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.
“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”
“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”
“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”
“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.
—
The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.
>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow
>i’ll need to try each ball out
>you did this to yourself
>shitty driver
A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.
Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.
“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.
You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.
“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.
“Can you give me the address again..?”
“You’re a freak.”
Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.
“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.
“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.
“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”
“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”
Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.
“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.
“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”
“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”
You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.
Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.
It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.
Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.
Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.
“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”
Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.
“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”
The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.
“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”
“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”
“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”
“Do you really think I care about that?”
“...no…”
“...”
“...”
“Whatever. Do what you want.”
“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”
—
By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.
However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.
“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.
“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”
“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”
“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”
“I’m not asking for money.”
“Then what is it?”
“Go on a date with me.”
“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.
You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.
He really can’t wait to come home.
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Well guys, you let me write your delulu fan fantasies, and it was an absolute blast. I had the best time with it, and hope to open myself to doing that again someday. Thank you all for letting me bring some semblance of your fantasies to life. It means the world to me!
Now…I think it’s only fair that I write mine.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: None.
Breathe
The last three days had been a blur. They’d been exciting, exhilarating, and unbelievably fun…but they were so exhausting.
Flying all the way out to Grand Rapids…amid a cyber defect, no less…delayed flight, no one can take cards, two days at a rock music festival…I was beat.
Nicole and I had been planning this trip for months, and it felt like regardless of how many things we did right, we were fighting against some unseen force against us. Everything we tried to do was halted at each turn, and it had become rather annoying.
Despite all of the mishaps, we had persevered, determined to enjoy ourselves against any and all odds. We got to listen to great music, meet some bands, and ate the most disgusting food the festival had to offer.
It was a dream.
By the drive back to the hotel after day two of Upheaval, we were sitting in near-silence, the radio humming low in the vehicle.
"Babes?" I looked over to Nicole. "We need to eat."
I groaned in response, sinking further into my seat. "Sounds dumb. I want to sleep."
She chuckled. "Same, but if we don't eat, we're going to feel like shit tomorrow."
"Ugh," I rolled my eyes toward the pitch darkness outside the window of the rental. "you're right."
She smirked. "As always."
I sucked my teeth. "Can we at least shower first?"
Back at the hotel, we each took our time scrubbing the day off of us, erasing the sweat and makeup left from the weekend. I slipped into my heavy sweats and black crop-top, beads of water still falling from my long, dark hair. Nicole was rubbing moisturizer into her skin, standing in front of the bathroom mirror as I ran my fingers bluntly through my hair.
"I don't want to eat Taco Bell again." Her voice was pleading, and I snickered.
"Same, dude. But what else is open?"
She picked up her phone, opening Google Maps, and scrolling through.
"IHOP?"
I sighed. "It was so bad when we ate there on Thursday..."
She nodded, pursing her lips. "I know, dude. Let me keep looking." Her fingers swiped the screen. "That Denny's looked fucking scary."
I laughed, walking out of the bathroom and grabbed my wallet from my purse, stuffing it in my pocket.
"Oooh!" She stepped into the room, a smile on her face. "There's a TGIFridays open! Only for like, another hour? But if we eat fast, we can make it."
The restaurant was desolate, only one other large SUV in the parking lot. Before opening my door, I slipped my phone from my pocket and checked the screen.
No notifications.
"Have you heard from him?"
I just shook my head, re-locking the phone, and putting it in my pocket. Her look was sympathetic.
"He's an idiot. Don't even worry about it, babe." She put a hand on my arm. "That's a 'tomorrow you' problem."
I nodded, giving her a small smile. "I know. Thanks, Nic."
We walked into the restaurant, eyes glancing around and seeing only one table in the corner filled with no less than five men laughing and eating. Craning my neck around, I searched for the server.
"You think they'll even seat us this late?"
Nicole shrugged, eyes trained on the table with the patrons. "Don't know."
She was distracted, so I stepped forward toward the host stand, looking around toward the bar.
"October..." Her voice was small, just above a whisper.
I didn't look back at her, my empty stomach motivating me to keep checking for the employee. "Hmm?"
A hand gripped my wrist, which made my head snap back to her. "I need you to, discreetly, look over at the table of guys in the corner."
I furrowed my brows, looking her directly in the eyes. "What? Why?"
Her face was stern. "Just do it, but don't be obvious."
Exhaling a breath, I continued searching around the restaurant, letting my eyes fall on the table for only a split second longer than anywhere else.
I counted six men, all black t-shirts and hoodies. Three of them wearing black baseball caps. Half of them were sitting with their backs turned to me, but my eyes caught one of them facing our direction, hands air-drumming feverishly in front of him.
He looked so...familiar?
I stole another glance, and my eyes widened.
"Is that...?"
"Nick Folio." Her voice whispered to me.
I averted my eyes to the floor, hand rising to cover my mouth. "Oh my God."
"If he's here, that means it's them."
I couldn't process that.
Bad Omens was my favorite band. Nearly the entire reason I had flown sixteen hundred miles to a state I had never been. I ground my teeth together, shutting my eyes.
"No fucking way, dude. We just saw them at the festival." I let my eyes look up at her, and she smirked.
"Well, clearly, they're hungry."
"Mkay, well I'll be out in the car if you need me." My legs started for the door, but an arm hooked mine, swinging me back to my spot in front of her.
"Oh, no no no. You're not leaving."
My eyes blew wide at her. "I can't fucking be here while they are! They're my fucking heroes, Nic!"
She nodded. "Uh, fucking same! But when will we ever get an opportunity to be this close again?"
I rolled my eyes. "We're not at a zoo, Nicole. They're just guys."
I didn't even believe the words I was saying.
"Yeah?" She crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow. "Then why leave?"
My face deadpanned, my lip pouting. "Cause I'm going to throw up."
She chuckled at this, eyes darting back to the guys, completely oblivious to our turmoil unfolding fifty feet away.
"We should talk to them."
My heart fell straight to my gut. "I beg your finest pardon?"
She shrugged, considering me. "Why not? What's the worst that could happen?"
"Uh, we interrupt their meal and I die of a stroke?"
This time, she rolled her eyes. "If you don't go say hello, I'm going to do it."
My brain short circuited. We couldn't have that. Who knew what Nicole's unhinged mouth would say to them...
"Can't I just eat and go? Pretend I didn't even see them?"
"And you'll never forgive yourself. You can't be this close to Noah Sebastian, and not tell him how much his music means to you."
I chewed on my lower lip.
"C'mon, babe. It'll be fine, and I'll be there with you!"
I steadied myself, wiping my hands on my pants. "Okay. Okay, I will."
I turned, looking directly at the table. The server had finally emerged, a tray full of plates in his hand. I waited as he set them all down, and he finally approached us.
"Sorry about that wait, guys. Just two?"
Nicole nodded, given I was nearly catatonic. The short, blonde man led us to a booth, only two away from the table I was dreading. He handed us menus, and took our drink orders.
"Before or after food?" Nicole asked as she scanned her menu.
"Can't you just do it?" I grimaced. "Without being a weirdo?"
She didn't even bother looking up at me. "Nope. Weird is built into my soul, sorry."
I sighed hard. "Before, then. If I eat, I will vomit all over them."
She folded her menu, and stood from the booth. "Let's go, then."
I closed my eyes, and took her outstretched hand, standing. Taking a quick second to right my hoodie - my Bad Omens hoodie - tied around my waist, I took in a hard breath.
"Alright." I squeaked out.
She led me carefully the few paces over to the table, moving behind me. I walked about four feet from them, likely looking pale as a ghost. I caught Folio's attention first, smiling awkwardly and giving a short wave.
"Hey! Can we help you guys?" His voice was upbeat and sweet as candy. Exactly how I expected.
"Hi." I cleared my throat, taking a careful step forward. My hands kneaded each other, and Nicole held a steady hand on my low back. "I'm s-so sorry to interrupt."
All heads had turned to me, and I didn't have the nerve to look to my left, where I knew Noah was sat.
"No worries!" Folio was smiling widely at me. "Are you guys fans?"
I nodded, looking down at my feet. "We are. We just saw you guys perform tonight, and I wanted to just-" My voice cut off abruptly, a catch in my throat. I swallowed hard. "We wanted to tell you how amazing you all were."
My eyes bounced to the other two men facing me. Nick Ruffilo and Matt Dierkes. They were both grinning.
"Thank you, that means a lot." Nick's voice was tired, but his smile was genuine.
Folio stood from his seat, pushing a hand out to me. "I'm Nick."
I took it with shaky fingers, feeling his grip mine tightly. "Folio, right."
He nodded. "And you are?"
Wow, I forgot my name. Smooth.
It took me a moment, but with a more certain voice, I was able to respond. "October." I let go of his hand to move to the side. "This is Nicole."
He shook her hand as well.
She smiled a toothy grin at him. "We flew from Las Vegas to see you guys."
Folio smiled wider. "Really? Wow! That's so fucking cool!"
Trying not to combust, I dared a glance slightly to the left, seeing Jolly and Bryan, who were both chewing food.
"I would introduce the rest of these guys, but I'm sure you already know who they are." Folio chuckled, and we both nodded.
"Yeah, we're familiar." I added.
"Well, that's great. Now, do you mind?"
The voice came directly from the left of me, where I had been avoiding. The tone made my blood run cold, and I felt all of my muscles tighten.
Finally, I looked over to meet his large, brown eyes. Noah looked anything but appreciative of us coming over to give our praise. In fact, he looked downright annoyed.
I couldn't process what he had said, and I stupidly asked, "Excuse me?"
He narrowed his eyes at me slightly, gesturing to the table. "Look, as much as we all appreciate it," His voice was dripping with disdain. "we're exhausted. We just want to eat so we can get out of here."
My heart had stopped beating. If I had anything in my stomach, it would have erupted out of me right then and there.
Maybe it was the jet-lag, or the fact that when I got home tomorrow, my life was actively in shambles, or maybe it was just being hungry...but I was enraged.
My hands balled into fists instinctively, trying to control my irritation, and I repainted my sweet smile.
"I'm sorry, we'll go. We just wanted to let you guys know you did great tonight. And you all are extremely talented."
He nodded, eyes now looking about as bored as they come.
"Great. Thanks." He snapped, turning his body back toward the table.
"Noah." Folio's voice was stern, and he turned back to me, an apologetic look on his face. "Don't mind him. He's cranky. You guys really aren't bothering us."
I heard the sound before I really registered what it was.
He sucked his teeth.
Oh, I see. He was a fucking child.
Now having lost all sense of nervousness, I could feel Nicole's hand tugging at my arm. "C'mon, babe."
I let myself be turned for a second, but my anger spun me back around, now facing directly toward him, which made him glance up at me like an inconvenience.
"You know," I started, sucking my own teeth in mockery. "you're not at all what I expected?"
He snickered, leaning back in his chair. "No?"
I shook my head slowly. "Nah. I expected someone with as much talent and success as you to be a decent person. Guess I was wrong."
Nicole's near silent gasp behind me was not lost, and I smirked.
"Well, sorry to disappoint, sweetheart." His voice was so nonchalant, it made my blood roar in my ears.
My hands twisted around the knot in my hoodie at my belt line, pulling it loose. I pulled it off with one hand, holding it out in front of me and let it go, leaving it to fall directly in his lap.
"Here." I caught him off guard, him looking up at me with wide eyes. "You probably want this back."
He picked it up, recognizing it was one of theirs. "Why would I want this?"
I smirked, a darkness in my eyes. "Well, you're pretty cold, Noah." I leaned down just to meet his eye level. "Might want something to warm you up before everyone realizes."
I heard a stifled snort come from the table, but I couldn't even begin to tell you who it was. Standing back up, I backed away from the table, and looked back at Folio.
"It was really nice to meet you guys. Have a safe night."
With that, I snatched Nicole's hand, and stalked away from the table, only pausing at the booth to grab my bag, before heading for the doors.
Once outside in the brisk night air, I took three large breaths, rounding the building and leaning down. My hands caught my knees, and Nicole stood in front of me.
"Holy shit!" She was nearly hysterical. "You just told off Noah Sebastian!"
Breathing hard, I fought the tears welling. It was too much all at once.
Was it that significant? No, not really. But after the year I'd been having, I couldn't handle that encounter at all.
"I want to leave. I want to go home."
"I know, babe. I'm sorry that went that way. I can't believe how much of a douche he was."
Shaking my head, I stood back up straight, wiping the moisture from my eyes. "Me either."
"Well," A voice came from behind us, and my eyes blew out, seeing him towering only a few feet away, hoodie in hand. "I don't know if I'd go as far to say douche."
My eyes squinted, jaw clicking. "I would."
He approached us slowly, holding the sweater out to me. "Take this. It's yours."
I held a hand up to him, shaking my head. "No, thanks."
He rolled his eyes. "You paid good money for this. And you made your point. Take it."
I considered him, counting my breaths. He was unmoving, so I reached out, gripping the fabric.
His foot kicked at the sidewalk, hands retreating into his sweater pockets. "Look, I'm sorry." I stood, shocked. "Folio's right. I'm just cranky. I haven't eaten all day, I'm tired. You just caught me on a bad moment."
My lips tightened, and I sighed hard. "So that makes it okay to be rude to someone who just wanted to tell you how great you were?"
His teeth chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I said I was sorry."
A hand touched my arm, and I looked back at Nicole, who gave me an amused smile. "Babe? I'm going to go back in. I'm also hungry."
I just nodded, letting her walk past the both of us.
He took two steps toward me slowly, eyes fixed on my face. "Nicole, right?" He asked, without taking his eyes off of me. She stopped short in her stride. "Pull a chair up to the table, dinner's on me tonight."
I caught the small smile on her lips before she continued her trek back into the restaurant.
"Well, you all enjoy that." And I turned, ready to get into the car, when I hand caught me by my purse. I stopped, looking back at him.
"Come eat."
Stitching my eyebrows together, I crossed my arms with my sweater between, considering him.
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Cause I was a douche."
I sat relatively silent at the table, munching slowly on the personal flatbread pizza I had ordered. It was one of the cheapest items on the menu, and I would be damned if I didn't somehow manage to slip him cash for it before we left.
Noah had loosened up substantially once he started eating. He was leaned back in his chair, flicking fries at Nick across the table, and participating in the conversations swirling around. Nicole, as she always did, melted into the group comfortably, sat next to Folio, and telling story after story of our trip and the festival.
"You guys seriously had to drive to an ATM to pay at the IHOP?" Nick asked incredulously.
"Yep. We sure did. The guy couldn't take card, and we felt bad. We could've just not come back, but that wouldn't be good karma."
I smiled at Nicole, the memory of two nights ago flooding in. An arm bumped mine, and I looked to my left to see Noah, eyes searching my face.
"You still mad at me?"
His voice was entirely different, soft as butter and warm like a fire. I smirked, leaning my elbows on the table.
"Haven't decided yet."
He nodded, sitting up so he was sat closer to me. "Yeah? Well, you shouldn't be."
Resting my chin on my hand, I gazed at him. "Why not?"
He smiled brightly. "Cause you came all this way to see me."
This made me snort, rolling my eyes. "Uh, no. I came all this way to see Bad Omens. Which I did."
"Why fly to Michigan? We were just in Vegas in April."
I nodded. "At Sick New World. I was there." He quirked an eyebrow. "Also at the show in October."
He looked confused. "So why come to Michigan?"
Shrugging my shoulders, I smiled a small grin. "Favorite band."
"We are?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
He smiled, smug. "I mean, not really."
I laughed, leaning back from the table. I was wearing my hoodie now, having become chilly halfway through the meal.
"Bet I can guess your favorite song?"
My eyes darted to his face, amused. "Really?" He looked so sure of himself. "Go for it."
He pursed his lips and stroked his chin dramatically, like a Medium. I tried to hide my laughter.
"Just Pretend?"
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. "You think I'm that basic?"
He chuckled. "Fair enough." He stared hard at me, trying to get a read. "Death of Peace of Mind?"
Nicole raised a hand. "That one's mine!"
Both of us glanced up at her, not realizing anyone else was listening. He turned back to me, still wracking his brain.
"Dethrone?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
"Nowhere To Go?"
"Nope, close third, though."
"Third?!"
I giggled, a blush flushing up my neck.
"Which album is it off of?"
"Nuh-uh, that's cheating."
He threw his hands up. "How is that cheating?"
I pursed my lips. "Second album."
"Limits?"
"Bingo."
He clapped his hands together in triumph. "Ha!" He pointed at me. "Knew I'd guess it."
Laughing, I pushed him with my arm. "Yeah, after you guessed half of your songs."
We both broke out in laughter, and it occurred to me that some of the other conversations had stopped. I caught Nick in the corner yawning hard, and my eyes met Nicole's. It was time.
"Well, Noah," I looked back at him. "thank you for the food. We should get going."
His lips downturned, but I was sure I was imagining it. "Oh," He looked back at the rest of the guys. "yeah, us too. Early morning."
I nodded, standing out of my chair, everyone else following suit.
As a group, we made our way out the door, pouring out onto the sidewalk. Nicole bid goodbye to the guys, and I did the same. We hugged them each separately, Noah being last.
I wasn't sure if hugging him was appropriate, given our encounter, so I just stood in front of him while everyone else headed for the cars.
"So," I let my lips turn up in a smile.
His face mimicked mine. "This was fun."
"It was. Despite how it started, it was really great meeting you, Noah."
"You too, October."
The bill in my hand was getting sweaty, so I stepped forward, pushing it toward him. His eyes looked down at my hand, and he put his hands up.
"Oh, no. Dinner was on me."
"Please take it, Noah."
He took a step back, as if what I was holding was poisonous. "Not a chance."
Scoffing, I stepped toward him, pulling my hand back. "I don't like people paying for me."
He pursed his lips. "I'm not taking money from you." I groaned, slipping the two twenties back in my pocket. "I will, however," He looked at me from under his lashes. "take your number, if that's okay?"
I froze, my mind stopping. "Oh, uh,"
He looked as though he may run in the opposite direction, eyes becoming panicked. "You don't have to. I totally get it."
"No, no. I can give it to you." His head snapped up to look at me. "I just, uh," My face fell to stare at the ground for a moment before I spoke. "I'm not really looking for..." I trailed off.
"Oh! No! I just had a lot of fun talking to you. Figured we could keep talking? Like, friends?" His smile was nervous, and it warmed me.
"Okay."
"He asked for your number?!" Nicole nearly screamed at the windshield as she drove us back to the hotel.
I cackled. "Yeah."
"And you gave it to him?!"
I didn't verbally respond, only dropped my head in my hands.
"Holy fuck!"
"He said he just wants to be friends."
"Oh, bullshit. He fucking liked you. I could tell he was into the attitude."
I gasped. "Not true!"
"So fucking true."
"No way, dude. He's Noah Sebastian. And I'm...me."
"You're fucking amazing, I don't know what you mean." Nicole looked nearly offended.
"I know. But he just wants to talk."
She smirked. "With his dick, maybe."
The shrieking laughter that exploded out of me was a mix of shock and hilarity at her comment.
"We'll know for sure if he texts you."
I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "We'll see."
As fried as my nerves were, nothing was stopping me from passing out the moment my head hit the pillow of the hotel room bed. I was absolutely cooked, ready to return back to my normal life.
I had received no messages before I knocked out, so I put it out of my head. It was a fun experience, and a sweet gesture of him to take my number, but I knew the likelihood of ever hearing from him again was so slim, it wasn’t worth hoping for.
He didn’t know me, and from what I knew about Noah Sebastian, he was an extremely private person. How did he know I wouldn’t give out his number or share our messages online? I would probably pause before I did anything if I were him.
When my eyes finally cracked open, the fog settled behind my eyes slowly evaporating, I saw Nicole sat up on her bed, looking down at her phone. I grunted, rolling onto my side and pulling the blankets up to my chin.
“What time is it?”
“Nine. We don’t have to leave for the airport for another hour.” She didn’t look up at me, but she smirked when she spoke.
I yawned, letting my eyes fall closed again. “I should go back to sleep, then.”
“You could.” She set her phone in her lap. “Or, you could check your phone.”
Snuggling deeper under the covers, I stretched my legs.
“He hasn’t texted me, dude.”
Nicole raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Your phone went off twice about half an hour ago.” She leaned back on her hands. “I already looked at the screen, and it wasn’t your Dad or…anyone else.” She spoke the last words carefully. I knew who she was referring to, and my chest squeezed at the idea.
My hand carefully reached onto the nightstand, gripping my phone. I pulled it in front of my face, tapping in the code, and letting it open. My messages icon showed two red notifications, which I opened hastily.
The messages came from an unknown number. When I opened the thread, my heart halted all its movements.
+17475558326: Hi.
+17475558326: It’s Noah.
My breathing picked back up, and I shot straight up in bed.
“Was it him?!” Nicole was bursting.
My eyes slipped over to look at her, my mouth fallen open. “It was.”
She squealed. “I can’t believe he texted you!”
My fingers shook while holding the phone, threatening to drop it in my lap. “What do I do?!”
“Fucking respond!”
I nodded, my thumbs hovering over the screen but freezing. “What do I say?!”
“Hi? I don’t fucking know?!” She looked amused. I was not.
Me: Good morning.
My finger hovered over the send button for a moment before I finally sent it. Instinctively, I tossed my phone on the bed, pulling my knees to my chest,
“Holy fuck, dude.”
She stood, walking over to my cell and checking the screen. “He’s already read it.”
“Give it.” I held my hand out, and she placed it in my palm.
His type bubble was already up. I took a second to save his name into my phone.
Noah: Sleep okay?
Was this real life?
Me: I did, how about you?
Noah must’ve had the chat open, because my message was read instantly and he started texting back quick.
Noah: Eh, yeah. Hotel beds aren’t my favorite.
Me: Me either. I was so tired, though.
I stood off the bed, stretching my arms over my head. Nicole had disappeared into the bathroom. I pulled my hoodie over my head, and looked at my messages again.
Noah: I’ll bet. You had a busy weekend. Excited to go home?
I thought about my response carefully.
Me: I am. I’m sure my kids are missing me almost as much as I miss them.
It shouldn’t be any big deal to admit that I’ve got kids casually, right? We’re just friends…
The thread indicated he read the messages, but it took him a full five minutes to start typing. My breath held what felt like the entire time, waiting for his text to come through.
Noah: How many kids?
My pulse raced, and I sat down on the edge of the bed.
Me: Two.
Noah: How old?
I raised an eyebrow.
Me: Why do you ask?
He responded slowly.
Noah: Just curious. Making conversation.
I sighed, now slightly concerned.
Me: 9 and 5.
Noah: Boys?
Me: Boy and a girl. My son is older.
Noah: Big brother, huh? Very cool. What’re their names?
I bit my lip, and Nicole was now stood next to the bed staring at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“I told him about my kids.”
She eyed me, confused. “And?”
“He’s asking about them.”
Quirking an eyebrow, she sat down next to me. “Are you not comfortable telling him? That’s a valid feeling, babe.” She put a hand on my knee. “You just met him.”
I nodded. “It’s just kind of…I don’t know, strange? Why would he care what my kid’s names are?”
She pursed her lips, staring down at my phone. “Maybe he’s trying to get to know you?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe I should just tell him?”
“It’s up to you, babe.”
I sent back a quick response.
Me: Michael and Willow
Noah: Nice.
I was brushing my teeth, so I didn’t immediately respond before his next text came in.
Noah: So, if you’ve got kids, does that mean you have a husband?
I scoffed, rolling my eyes.
Me: Don’t have to be married to have kids, Noah.
His text that came through almost made me spit my toothpaste all over the mirror.
Noah: Children out of wedlock?! Unacceptable!!
I cackled, and I knew Nicole was wondering, but she didn’t ask.
Me: What can I say? I’m a heathen.
I followed it up quickly.
Me: But, no. Not married. Their Dad is around, but we’re not together.
Noah: I see.
I sighed, not really sure where to go from here. Resolving to changing the subject, I was also packing up my things into my duffel to prepare for our journey to the airport.
Me: Anyway, enough about me. What’re you up to?
Noah: On the bus headed to Mansfield. We should be there in about an hour.
Me: Oh, that’s right. You play Inkcarceration tonight, right?
Noah: Yup. Surprised you won’t be there. 😜
I laughed out loud.
Me: Well, I can only stalk you so much. I have work tomorrow.
Noah: What do you do?
Me: I work for a law firm as a paralegal. It’s a mostly remote gig, so I work from home most days.
Nicole and I loaded our bags into the car, dropping our key cards off at the desk.
Noah: Oh that sounds fun.
Me: It’s not, but it pays the bills.
We made it to the rental car return, and I waited outside while Nicole dropped the keys in the box. We made our way into the airport, now having to pay full attention to the tasks at hand.
Check in, move through TSA, head to Starbucks, find gate.
Nicole had stopped at a gift shop that had an impressive bookstore inside, where I opted to go find seats at the gate. It wasn’t until I was settled in that I was able to check my phone again.
Noah: Well, what would you rather do for a living?
I chewed my bottom lip thinking about this.
Me: I don’t really know, honestly. Thats a tough question.
Me: I’d have to think on that.
Noah: Great, I expect a report back in 3-5 business days. 👍🏻
I cackled at the message, and Nicole sat next to me right as I did.
“Still texting the love of your life?”
I scoffed, locking my phone and looking at her. “Oh, stop. He’s just a guy.”
“Yeah, mhm, sure.” She opened her crispy new novel and began reading the first few pages, successfully ending the short conversation.
Noah: What time’s your flight?
Me: We board in about ten minutes.
Noah: Sweet. You’ll be home soon, you must be relieved.
Me: I am, but I hate flying…
Noah: Really? I’m the same way. It’s the worst.
Me: Any tips for me?
Noah: Depends. Is it the small spaces, or the fear of crashing?
Me: Crashing.
Noah: Oh, yeah…no. Can’t help you there. I have an insane irrational fear of being in a plane crash.
I audibly groaned, sinking into my seat.
Me: Awesome, thanks.
Noah: LOL you’ll be fine. It’ll be a smooth flight and you’ll be home to your kids in no time.
Noah: I usually blast music through the whole flight and just tune everything out.
Me: I’ll try that.
The call for our boarding came, so Nicole and I stood, headed for the line.
Me: We’re about to board. Talk later?
Noah: Yup. Fly safe. Text when you land.
Noah: If you want.
Smiling at my phone, I typed back swiftly.
Me: Will do.
Falling into my bed, I took a moment to stare up at the ceiling.
It was over. I was home. All that was left to do was gather myself, pick up my kids from their Dad, and return back to my regular life.
The thought consumed me. I only had an hour until I was due to pick them up, and as excited as I was to see my babies, I was absolutely floundering at the idea of seeing their Dad…
Things had not ended well between Sean and I. Earlier in the year, we had finally called it quits after nearly a decade. Although we tried hard to amicably end things, it just wasn’t in the cards for us. There was too much history and hurt to let it die peacefully.
I gave myself a few minutes to gather myself before I took my phone out, shooting him a quick text to let him know I’d be there at 5PM, as agreed.
Sean: K.
Sounds about right.
I then realized I had forgotten to text Noah, so I opened our thread.
Me: I got home okay. Did you make it to Ohio safely?
Heading for the backyard to let my dog, Steve, out to use the bathroom, I sat at the table, staring out at the grass.
My phone chimed.
Noah: Nope. Bus crashed. Fiery mess. Blood everywhere.
I smirked.
Me: Damn. RIP.
Noah: We’re at the festival, just hanging for now. We’ve got about an hour before they set up the stage.
Me: Same setlist from last night?
Noah: Probably. We haven’t taken the time to make a new one.
I sighed, making my way back into the house and moving around the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
Me: You should.
Noah: Yeah, how so?
Thinking for a moment, I leaned against the counter, and typed on the screen.
Me: Maybe add in something different? Something you haven’t played in a long time?
Noah: Such as…?
I snorted.
Me: Isn’t that your job to decide?
Noah: You can tell me, as a listener, what you’d want to hear.
Noah: What’s your favorite song off the first album?
Me: The Fountain, but that’s too slow.
Noah: I doubt I even know the words to that anymore, dude.
Me: Exit Wounds?
Noah: Meh.
Me: OMG…
Noah: What else?
Me: Worst In Me?
Noah: Hate that song.
Me: Jesus actual Christ.
Noah: Second album? Other than Limits?
Me: Burning Out?
Noah: …
Noah: That might not be a bad one…
Me: Oop?
Noah: I’ve got to talk to Nick. I don’t have a lot of time. I’ll text you later?
Me: Yup. Have a great show!
Noah: That you should be at…
I ignored his last message, sipping my coffee, and steadying myself. He was a little flirty, sure. It didn’t mean my heart didn’t jump each time he did it.
My knuckles tapped the door, and I was greeted by my son Michael, his smile huge.
“Mom!” He rushed me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“Hey baby!” I knelt down, pulling him into a tight squeeze.
Behind him, inside the house, my daughter came running as well. “Mama!”
I pulled an arm open for her, encapsulating them both. “Ugh, I missed you guys so hard.”
Letting them loose, I noticed they already had their backpacks on.
“Where’s your Dad?” I looked around inside the apartment, but Michael just waved a hand.
“In his room. He told me to tell you he’ll see you next week.” He was so nonchalant, and although I knew it was forced, I was thoroughly impressed at how strong my young man had been throughout this difficult process.
Silently, I thanked the universe that Sean and I didn’t have to come face to face, and we made our way out of the apartment and down the stairs.
“How was Mushygen?” Willow asked, and I laughed at her pronunciation.
“Michigan was good. Auntie and I had fun, but I’m so glad to be home with you both.” I buckled her in the back of my minivan while Michael climbed in his seat next to hers.
“Did you get to meet any cool bands?” He asked me.
This made me smile as I slid into my seat, starting the vehicle.
“I did. I actually got to meet my favorite band.”
“Bad Omens?!” His voice cracked, and I smiled bigger.
“Yes! We ran into them at a restaurant last night!”
“What were they like?” He was curious, being a bit of a fan himself.
“Super nice, really cool guys.” I skipped over mine and Noah’s introductory debacle.
“That’s so cool, Mom!” Willow chirped from her seat.
“How was your weekend at Dad’s?” I asked them.
They proceeded to give me the full rundown of their three days with their father. They went to the park, out to dinner, but mostly stayed in at the apartment, given how hot it was. They couldn’t wait to go back next weekend.
Sean was a lot of things, but I’d never lie and say he wasn’t a good father to his kids.
Once back at home, I began working on dinner. Spaghetti, per the children’s request. After dinner were baths/showers, two hours of hangout time, before they had to go to bed. It was summer, so bedtime was midnight.
About 8:30PM, while I was sat on my Chaise lounger curled up with Willow watching Inside Out, my phone buzzed next to me.
Noah: That was a good choice. Turns out, a lot of people know that song.
Me: I’m glad it went well! Did the rest of the set go smoothly?
Noah: Sure did. It was tiring, and I’m ready to go home. But festivals are fun.
Me: When do you head back home?
Noah: Tonight. We’ve got stuff coming up on Thursday, so we’ve got to get going ASAP. Takes three days to make it back to LA.
I felt Willow shift next to me, and I noticed she was snoozing comfortably. It was already after 9PM, so I decided it was time to carry her into her room.
Laying her small body in bed and tucking her pale pink blanket over her, I left her with a kiss on the forehead and turned on her nightlight.
When I made it back to my spot, I flipped to SVU, and responded to his text.
Me: That’s a long drive. I don’t envy you.
Noah: You’ve got work tomorrow, I don’t envy you.
Smiling, I leaned back in my seat and covered up with my throw blanket.
Me: Fair enough.
The days passed tediously. Two weeks had gone by since I came home from Michigan. Every day, like clockwork, Noah texted me. Not the entire day, but most of it. We talked about a lot. My job. His music. Our favorite movies. Favorite places. Our hobbies. Our tattoos.
I was working in-office today, smiling at my phone because of the messages we were exchanging.
Noah: How big is it?
Me: Hip to knee.
Noah: WOAH.
I smirked. I was referring to a tattoo of an octopus I have on my left thigh.
Noah: Pic?
Me: I don’t have any off hand.
The flirting had been mild at best, but once in a while, he would say something suggestive, and it made me smile. Still, I would typically change the subject.
Noah: Damn. I’ll just have to see it in person.
This made my stomach twirl. In person? Throughout these last couple weeks, at no point had we discussed meeting in person again. I mean, it was possible, I’m sure. But it hadn’t really registered as a possibility.
While talking to Noah over text only, it almost made the entire experience feel unreal.
Me: I don’t remember seeing any Vegas tour dates on your website, sir.
His text took a few to come through.
Noah: Sir…?
Whoops. Maybe that was a bad move.
Noah: Vegas isn’t far. And didn’t you say you’re going to be in LA in September?
Chewing the skin off of my lip, I clutched my phone.
Me: To see Falling in Reverse and Black Veil Brides.
Noah: Maybe I could go.
Me: I didn’t think you listened to them?
Noah: Not so much, but if you’re going to be there, I think it could be fun.
That made my insides twist. He wanted to see me?
Me: Well, guess I’ll see you there, then?
After work, I dropped the kids at Sean’s. He had requested we do contactless drop off now, to try and avoid any arguments…like my children were a fucking Uber delivery.
He would stand outside, I’d let them out of the car, and they’d walk up to the apartment. It was fucking childish, but I didn’t argue. I had no energy left for Sean anymore. He had taken it all.
At home, I began the process of decompressing for the week, still fuming over my ex’s immaturity. First order of business was to uncork my Rosé, and fill my tallest glass.
I stood at the counter, heels kicked off to the floor of the kitchen, and chugged a few gulps of the drink.
My phone began chiming in my bag, and I fished it out. Someone was FaceTiming me?
Noah…
Noah was FaceTiming me?
I swiped the call open, not bothering to check my appearance first, and his face looked back at me. He was sitting at a desk, bed behind him, wearing a t-shirt and his hair was messy.
“Hey.” I said, apprehensive.
“Hey, sorry, is this a bad time?”
I shook my head, taking another long pull from my glass. “Not at all. Just got home from dropping the kids off.” My tone contradicted my words, my agitation still leaking in.
“You sure? Lookin’ a little stressed there, October.”
I snorted, propping my phone against the stove, and refilling my glass.
“Long day. What’s up?”
He sat back in his chair, hands folded over his chest. “Just wanted to see you.”
My fingers gripped the counter. “You did?”
“Yeah, texting gets old.”
I nodded. “It does.”
“Want to talk about your day?”
I groaned, the alcohol already softening the edges of my brain slightly. “You don’t even want to know.”
He pursed his lips. “Try me?”
Waving a hand in front of me, I swallowed the last of my second glass. “It’s just my children’s father being a dick. Nothing new.”
Lifting a brow, he cocked his head to the side. “What’d he do?”
As messy as ever, I poured a third and final glass, emptying the bottle, and dropping it in the trash can. Lifting my hand to my hair, I pulled the clip loose, shaking my hair out.
“He asked for contactless delivery with the kids.” I said as I lifted the glass to my lips.
He looked taken back. “Like…a pizza?”
“That’s what I said!” I shook my head. “He’s a fucking coward. He can’t even fucking face me without being an asshole.”
“Then maybe it’s better you don’t see each other?”
Shrugging, I ran a hand through my hair. “Fuck, probably.”
Looking at him, I noticed he was walking now, phone in hand.
“Anyway, fuck that guy. How was your day?”
He set the phone back down, and he was clearly in his kitchen. “Uneventful. Played with some beats. Caught up on some of the shows I’d been missing.”
I walked to my room, pulling a t-shirt from the hanger. “I’m going to set you down a sec so I can change.”
He just nodded. “Should I make pasta or tacos for dinner?”
I shouted at the phone as I pulled my shirt over my head and slipped my pants off. “Pasta, always pasta.”
Satisfied, he began pulling items from the cabinet.
“Oh, Noah!” I stood, only in my shirt covering my underwear. He turned to look at me as I lifted the phone. “Did you want to see the tattoo now?”
He padded back to where his phone was at, and leaned down close to the screen. I set my phone on my dresser and stepped backward to get myself in the frame. Feeling sheepish, I carefully worked to only show my ink, and not my crotch.
“Hmm,” He mused. “Cant see it. Better take the shirt off too.”
My eyes rolled, and I grabbed the phone. “Perv.”
He snickered, smiling at me. “What? Beautiful tattoo on a beautiful woman? Can you blame me?”
My cheeks reddened, and I quickly slipped my sweats on. “Guess not.”
He placed a pot of water on the stove to boil, and stepped back, twirling a wooden spoon in his hand. His eyes considered me as I moved back into the kitchen to start working on my own meal.
“Can I ask you something, October?”
Distractedly, melting some butter, scallions, and garlic in a pan, I responded. “Sure.”
“When I asked you for your number, back in Michigan, you acted like you weren’t looking to date anyone.”
My eyes shot over to the phone, my hand stopping its stirring. “Mhm…”
“That’s true? You’re not looking to date?”
Trying to concentrate on my task, I added the cream to the roux I had made. “Not right now, why?”
He shrugged his shoulders, dropping his pasta in the boiling pot. “Curious.”
“Yeah? Cause that’s a super pointed question for just curiosity.”
He smiled to himself, not looking at the camera. “Alright, maybe I’m a little more than curious.”
I turned my full attention to him, adding Parmesan to my Alfredo base. “What’s ’a little more than curious’?”
He looked at me then, eyes piercing me. “Interested?”
Death. That’s what I felt right then. Heart rate explosive, mind racing, eye twitching. No words can describe the feeling when someone as unbelievable as Noah Sebastian tells you they’re interested…
“Y-You’re…interested?”
He nodded slowly, stirring his pot. “I am.”
Stuttering like a cat, I nearly dropped my spoon. “Why?” I managed to choke out.
His face was bewildered. “Why not?”
Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, I nearly let my sauce boil over.
“Uh,” I moved the pan from the burner and poured my pasta in the water. “I mean, it’s a valid question.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Noah…” I sighed hard, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Have you seen you?”
“A few times.” He laughed as he strained his noodles. “And?”
“I’m not,” I pointed toward him. “that.”
“A dude? Yeah, I didn’t think so but I didn’t exactly want to ask.”
I narrowed my eyes, smirking. “Smart ass.”
“I don’t see the confusion here.”
“You’re being willfully ignorant.” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“How so?” He answered as he threw butter and seasonings into the pot.
Sucking my teeth, I rolled my eyes. “Noah, you’re an actual rockstar.”
“Kay, and?”
“And I’m a normal person.”
“I’m sorry,” He held up the spoon that was scooping noodles into a bowl. “Am I not?”
“I have kids. A job. Baggage. We live in different states. You’re,” I gestured to him again. “far out of my league.”
He shook his head. “I disagree.”
He moved to his table, propping me up on something I couldn’t see.
“Well, you’re wrong.”
He shoveled food into his mouth, taking a moment to chew. I strained my own pasta.
“How do you figure? You’re funny, interesting, fiery, beautiful…”
My throat went dry.
“What’s the issue?”
Putting my pasta together and getting it onto a plate, I walked over to my own table. “You’re forgetting the baggage part.”
He waved a hand. “You’ve got kids. So what?”
I dropped my fork. “So what?”
He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean, what’s the big deal?”
“Uhh,” I drawled. “you don’t? And probably don’t need that in your life right now.” I sighed. “Or someone who has them. They’re always first priority.”
Nodding, he continued eating. “As they should be.”
Biting into my food, I stared at him, no words coming to mind.
“Look,” He set his fork down. “I’m not saying I want to marry you.” I choked at the word. “I just like you.”
My eyes widened, my jaw stopping mid-chew.
“I just want to take you on a date or something. See how it goes when I’m not super cranky.” He smirked.
Oh God. It was so enthralling, hearing the words come out of his mouth…
The temptation was strong.
But…
“I can’t, Noah.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “No?”
My head hung in frustration.
“I like you, too. A lot. But,” I pushed my plate away, suddenly losing all of my appetite. “I’m still dealing with a lot. I’m trying to get back to a sense of normalcy here. Sean just moved out three months ago. My kids are my entire life. I feel like I’m living in a storm at all times. I’ve got to get a handle on that for now.”
He was silent as I spoke, and I knew I had blown it.
“Are you mad?”
His tongue rolled around in his mouth before he spoke. “No. I won’t lie, I’m disappointed, but your reasoning is valid. I respect that.”
A man? Respecting me? Wild concept.
“I understand if you don’t want to talk anymore.”
He looked perplexed, taking a drink from his water bottle. “Why would I want that?”
I didn’t verbally respond, I just stared at him.
“I like you for more than a date, October. I like talking to you. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to keep doing that.”
My face warmed, and I couldn’t stop the smile spreading. “I’d like that, too.”
“Alright.” He slapped a hand on the table. “That settles that. We’ll stay friends.” He picked his fork back up and kept eating.
I almost didn’t catch the last words come out of his mouth.
“For now.”
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Black Smoke: Chapter 8 - Green With Envy
Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ as always. Fluff. Mentions of pregnancy. Angst. Insecurities. Anger. Jealousy. Arguments. Crying. Hurt feelings. Apologies. Flirting. Smut. Sexual acts. Penetrative sex. Oral sex (f receiving). Fingering. Nude photography.
Black Smoke Masterlist
The wind was chilly in the early morning, nearing four weeks after arriving home from Michigan. You adjusted the cap on your head after closing the trunk door of Jake’s jeep. Your stomach growls and you pout and whine. Jake peers around the corner of the jeep with his eyebrows creased together. “What are you whining about?”
“I’m hungry..” Shaking his head, he walks away and goes to the driver door. “Can we please stop and get some food on the way to the airport?” You ask when you climb into the jeep and close the door.
“We can eat when we get to the airport.” He says as he starts the engine. “We’re already running behind schedule.” You huff, making him chuckle and he puts the vehicle in reverse and drives off to the airport.
Making it to the airport and getting through security, Jake leads you through the crowded terminal and to your gate before dropping his backpack and yours to the floor. You hold out your hand, pouting your lip and he sighs rolling his eyes. “You literally ate this morning, how are you hungry again?” He says as he hands you his credit card. You simply shrug your shoulders and take the card from his hand. “Bring me back a coffee!” He calls as you’re walking away.
The second you step into the nearest cafe, you can smell the food cooking and it makes your stomach churn, but the food on the menu board looks really good. Ordering yourself a couple breakfast sandwiches and extra one for Jake just in case, you also order his coffee before making your way back through the terminal and to the spot where you had left him at the gate.
“Geez,” Jake chuckles when he spots the food in your hand and the two coffees.
“I hope it tastes better than smells,” You say as you pull out one of the sandwiches and hand it to him.
He cautiously sniffs it and shrugs his shoulders before pulling apart the wrapper and taking a bite. The action alone makes your stomach church again and you grimace at your own sandwich. Luckily it does taste better than it smells.
An hour passed and you were finally boarding the plane to head off to New York before boarding an international flight to London. By the early morning, the flight landed in London. Jake quickly dropped your stuff off the airport before taking a rental car to the studio.
“Mr. Kiszka!” The studio manager exclaims as he greets Jake with an open armed hug. He smiles widely at you. “And you must be the future Mrs. Kiszka,” He says, pulling you into a hug as well. “It is such a pleasure to be working with you, Mr. Kiszka. I’ve seen your work and it is absolutely amazing. I definitely believe you are the right fit to take on this job.”
“Thank you,” Jake says with a slight chuckle. You’ve learned since being with him that he sometimes gets a little flustered when complimented. It was something you found endearing.
“Well, let’s head on back and meet your model for these next few days,” The manager says as he begins to lead you through the studio and towards the back dressing rooms. Knocking on a door, a woman’s voice calls, allowing you to enter and he pushes the door to reveal the most gorgeous woman sitting on a chair in front of a large mirror while the makeup artist is dabbing on a little powder.
“Angelica, I would love to introduce you to Jake Kiszka. He’s going to be our photographer for the next few days for this shoot.”
Angelica smiles and excuses herself from the artist and stands up from the chair. If you were already insecure over just seeing her face, you’re definitely even more insecure when you see just how perfect her body is too. Perfectly sculpted body and toned abs. Surely Jake would find her attractive and that sends a nervous vibe through your body.
“Jake!” She smiles and immediately pulls him in for a hug. “I am so happy to be working with you! Oh I’ve seen your work and I have to say that it is phenomenal. When they told me you'd be the photographer for this shoot, I was so excited. Still am!”
Instinctively your eyebrows crease when you see his cheeks flush red and he stammers over his next sentence that falls from his mouth, “Th-Thank you Angelica. I’ve been looking through your portfolio to gain some idea of what seems to work best for you and I have to extend the same compliment. You’re very beautiful and you’re definitely right for this shoot.”
“Well thank you, Jake.” She giggles. Angelica’s attention turns to you and you can just tell the smile is fake as soon as she looks at you. “Hi! Oh my gosh, I’m being so rude. You must be Jake’s assistant.”
“Oh uh, no–”
“She’s my fiancée,” Jake interjects. “Angelica, meet (Y/N).”
“Oh! Fiancée! How exciting! Congratulations!”
“Well, we’ll let you finish getting ready while Jake gets his gear set up.”
“Of course! I’ll see you there!” Angelica gives Jake a wink before going back over to the chair and sitting down to finish getting her makeup down. Jake reaches for your hand and tugs you from the room.
He had been putting his camera together and changing the settings to ones he would need for the indoor portion of the shoot. “Okay, I am ready!” Angelica announces as she walks into the room. She dressed in a very revealing top and a pair of tight skinny jeans. You notice Jake glance up and fumble with the camera in his hands, nearly dropping. He clears his throat and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. You thought your scoff was quiet but Jake heard because he’s turning to look at you.
“What?”
You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. “Nothing..” You say as you lean back in the chair that was provided for you.
“Jakey, how do I look?” Angelica calls as he fluffs her hair.
Jakey?
Who the fuck does she think is that she can him that?
“Jakey?” You mutter.
Jake shoots you a look. A warning look. He’s warning you? She’s the one trying to flirt with him and you get the warning look? If you weren’t starting to boil from jealousy already, you definitely are now.
“You look great,” Jake responds with his eyes still focused on you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Do you mind getting seated on the couch? Make yourself comfortable.”
“Anything for you, Jakey.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes when Jake’s eyes look back at you to make sure you weren’t doing anything wrong. You give him an innocent smile and he scoffs with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
The whole shoot had you on edge. She would constantly call him ‘Jakey’, occasionally calling him ‘Sir’ and giggling when his cheeks flushed red. When he’d go up to fix her hair in the way he wanted it to look, she’d take that as an opportunity to fidget with the pendants on his necklace and compliment him on how cool they are after he explains which one is.
Is he purposely doing this to get under your skin? To test how far he can let this go before you explode?
He did catch you a few times rolling your eyes and sending you the same warning look. “Would you stop it?” He says coming up to you after calling for a break.
“Stop what?”
“Stop rolling your eyes–”
“Well–”
“And stop scoffing–”
“But–”
“None of her flirting means anything.”
“Tell that to your red cheeks, Jake.”
“You’re embarrassing me, stop it.”
Woah. Pause. Did he.. You’re embarrassing him? “Wow..” You breathe as you slide out of the chair. “This has gone from a photoshoot to flat out flirting. She’s always calling you ‘Jakey’, gross. And ‘Sir’? I’m sorry but there’s one person who can call you that, and that person is me.”
“(Y/N), it means nothing to me.”
“Well tell that to your dick,” You whisper-yell to him. “You think it isn’t noticeable? Gosh, Jake, you fucking fumbled your camera when she came out dressed in that outfit.”
Jake takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and exhaling. “Go back to the hotel.”
“What?”
“I said, go back to the hotel. You’ve been so rude all morning and I’m tired of it.”
“I’m being rude?” You shake your head and grab your coat and purse. “Have you seen the way she talks down to me? It’s so condescending and you haven’t even noticed. But whatever, I guess I’m the one being rude.”
“Just go and take a nap. You’ve been up for so long and it’s making you crabby.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the key for the rental car. “Here, take the car.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll get a taxi or something after we wrap up.” He gives you a kiss on the forehead and a light tap on your ass. “We’ll talk after I get back and after you’ve slept.”
Getting back to the hotel and up to the room, you toss your things onto the couch before going into the bedroom where you proceed to change into something more comfier. Standing in front of the mirror, you slowly lift up your shirt to look at your midsection. How can you compete with her? She has the perfect body and she’s fucking beautiful. Why wouldn’t he be attracted to her?
Of course he’s attracted to her, he got fucking hard just looking at her. He hasn’t felt that way towards you since the two of you got back to Nashville. He hasn’t even touched you since either. When was the last time you two were ever intimate? Was it really in his old bedroom at his parents’ house?
You didn’t realize you were crying until you looked up in the mirror. Your eyes grow red and your chin wobbles. Pulling your shirt back down, you turn away from the mirror and walk over to your suitcase to retrieve your earbuds. Music might be a good distraction and get your mind off of today.
It was nearly midnight in London by the time Jake finally came back to the hotel. And suddenly you are sent down the road of jealousy and anger when you see him as he walks into the bedroom. You give him a short glance before going back to scroll through social media on your phone.
“I figured your nap would have made you feel a little better.” He says as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes off his shoes.
“I’m not tired, if that’s what you mean..” You say, not taking your eyes away from your phone. “Did she flirt with you any more after I left?”
“(Y/N)..” Jake sighs.
“Well did she?”
His shoulders drop and he turns to face you. “Yes..” Your only response was a simple nod of your head. “It means nothing.. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Until your dick stops hardening for her.”
“Would you knock it off?!” He finally shouts as he stands to his feet.
“I’m sorry, Jake! But it hurts, you know.” You toss your phone down on the bed and stare at him. “You seem so attracted to her.”
“But I’m not!”
“Yes you are, Jake.” You sigh. “And it’s fine, I get it. I don’t look like her. She’s fucking beautiful and her body..”
“Baby,” Jake kneels onto the bed and crawls over to you, his face just centimeters from your face. “You are beautiful.”
“But I don’t have her body, Jake.”
“So?” He rested back on his knees with his hands laying on his thighs. “Why does it matter if you have her body or not? I love your body.” Your bottom lip quivers and you lower your chin. “Hey look at me.” He says as he reaches towards you and lifts your chin back up. “Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because..” Your voice is shaky. “The way you looked at her today.. You haven’t looked at me like that since we got back from Michigan.”
“Just because you don’t see me looking at you, doesn’t mean that I’m not ever looking at you.”
“We’ve not been intimate either..”
“I have no excuse, really..” He sighs. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still attracted to you. So what if you don’t have a supermodel’s body. I still love you.” He reaches for your arms and pulls you onto his lap. “You’re still so beautiful to me.” He gives you kisses before leaving a trail of them down your neck.
“Jake..”
“Shh..”
“Jake, stop..” You push away from him, crawling off his lap and moving away from him. “I don’t want pity sex..”
“Pity sex?” He questions. “Is that what you think it was going to be?”
“Yes, because you feel sorry and I don’t want to feel like you have to have sex me because I said that. I want you to have sex with me because you want to and because I’m sexy.”
“But I do want to.”
“No, you don’t..”
“Baby, yes I do!” He crawls over to the edge of the bed and holds your face in his hands. “I always want to have sex with you!”
Tears escape down your cheeks and you push him away again. “Then why haven’t you for the last month, Jake?! But the second Angelica steps out in that top revealing her boobs and her jeans were so tight, you were totally into that! She turned you on, dammit! I haven’t done that to you in weeks!” More tears fell down your cheeks. “How can we get married when I don’t make you feel like that anymore?”
“(Y/N), I’m sorry that I ever made you feel this way..” He tries to reach for you again but you take a step back. “(Y/N)..”
“Just go find Angelica.. At least you won’t pity her..” You quickly go into the bathroom and close the door behind you and twist the lock.
Geez, why do you have to be so emotional? You’ve never cried this much. Leaning against the sink, you slowly rock back and forth as you breathe in deeply and exhaling at a slow pace. And your anger? Jealousy? You’ve never been jealous because you’ve never had a reason to be jealous.
A gentle knock sounds on the door before Jake speaks. “(Y/N).. I’m sorry.. I-I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, but I want to make you feel better. I want to fix this. Please open the door.” He went quiet for a minute or two before speaking again. “I want to make love to you, and not out of pity. I want to make love to you because I do love you. I really do. I want to kiss you in all the right places, I want to touch you until you’re squirming beneath me. Please let me prove to you that I love you.”
Wiping your hands across your face, you go over to the door and unlock it before pulling it open. He stands there with the most sorrowful look that you’d ever seen on his face. He doesn’t move as you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head against his chest. Slowly he moves his arms around you and holds you close.
“I’m sorry..” You whimper. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me..”
“It’s okay..” Jake says as he rubs his hand up and down your back.
“Jake?”
“Hm?”
You lift your head to look at him. “I love you.”
He smiles and raises his hand to your face to brush your hair behind your ear. “I love you too.” He moves slightly closer, his lips just barely brushing against yours. “Can I kiss you?” He asks.
“Yes..”
He smiles before he presses his lips to yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press your body closer to his as the kissing begins to heat up. His hands find their way back to your waist and he rests them on your hips before he’s pressing your body up against his. Bending slightly, he picks you up off the floor and sets you on his waist and carries you back to the bed where he lays you down.
He pulls away from you long enough to remove his shirt before kissing you again. You can feel him growing hard beneath the fabric of his jeans and he grinds himself against your core. With your permission, he slowly addresses you and kisses every inch of your body as he goes.
-
As much as he desires to bring you pleasure, he longs to make love to you even more. He settles himself between your legs and kisses you before pushing himself inside of you. You gasp from the sting, fully aware of how long the two of you have not been like this. He moves slowly, allowing you ample time to adjust to him again.
“Jake..”
“(Y/N)..”
“I think I might be pregnant..”
He slows his pace before coming to a stop and he props himself up just enough to really look at you. “What makes you think that?”
“Just a feeling..” You say. “I’ve never been this emotional before.. And the airport? The food made me so queasy. And then suddenly I'm a raging, jealous bitch only to burst into tears and feel so bad.. I’m supposed to get my period in a couple days but.. If I’m late..”
“Then let’s hope you are.”
“If I am, are you for sure okay with that?”
“Of course I am,” He leans to kiss you before gently thrusting his hips forward.
He starts to move again, still gentle but passionate. Soon he’s bringing the both of you to your climaxes. The warm feeling takes over your body as you feel the two of you melding together. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, him breathing heavily as you softly run your fingers through his hair. When the two of you relax, he carefully pulls out of you and goes off to the bathroom to retrieve a wet washcloth to clean you both off.
He can’t help but to kiss way down your leg when he finishes and tosses the cloth off the side, no doubt that he’ll probably be using it again here shortly. Making it to your inner thigh on your right leg, he sets it back down on the bed before starting on your left leg. He licks his tongue through your folds, earning a light gasp from you. He looks up to find you looking down at him with your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. He smiles and places a kiss to your still sensitive clit before he kisses his way up your body. Coming up your abdomen and to the valley your breasts, he pauses and pulls away slightly.
He puts on his thinking and rubs his chin with his index finger and thumb. “Hmmm..” He hums. “Which one do I want?” He shrugs shoulders and leans back down to envelope your right nipple in his mouth while he palms your left one in his hand and gently massages it.
He leaves your left breast and slides his hand down your body, first squeezing your hip and then dipping his hand between your legs. Though he probably could have done this first, he missed being intimate with you just as much as you had, so he couldn't help but dive straight into the fucking. Or love making, actually.
And he’ll do it again too. To hell with the foreplay. He loves being shoved so deep inside of you and nudging all the right places just so he can hear those little sounds you make when he does.
He pauses the circular motion of his fingers on your clit and releases your right breast from his mouth. Pulling away completely, he climbs off the bed and goes over to his things on the other side of the room and retrieves his personal camera.
“For my eyes only,” He says as he turns it on.
Instantly popping up, the last photo he took with his camera was one of you that he snapped without you noticing. You were fully naked and walking in the direction away from the camera. Your arms were raised as you were stretching and lifting your hair just slightly. He zoomed in on your ass, biting his bottom lip as he stared at the red hand print visible from when he smacked your ass as he pounded himself into you. That was the night before the two of you took off for Paris. After coming home late that night, he still felt a little twinge of remorse for missing the dinner date and he knew presenting you with the trip to Paris was not going to fully make up for it. So he fucked you, there was no love making it. He did everything to pleasure you, even when you begged him to be rough on you.
You missed him so much then as much as he missed you. He remembers having you on your hands and knees and he was railing himself into you, not worried about the pain you might be in the next day. He was fully prepared to have to carry you around if he needed to. The smack of his palm against your ass has the blood rushing to his cock.
But he’s being pulled from that memory when he hears you calling his name and the warmth of your hand enveloping his cock. “Are you looking at her photos?”
“If by her, you mean you? Then yes.” He turns the camera to face you showing the naked photo of you. He winks at you and kisses your forehead. “That night was amazing.” He pulls away from you, the warmth of your hand leaving his cock as he sinks down to the mattress and spreads his legs. “Pop a squat.” When you have yourself straddling his waist, he looks into the mirror and adjusts your legs around his body until he has them just the way he wants them. “Perfect.”
He lays your head on his shoulder and moves your hair to the right spot. When he is satisfied with how the two of you look in the mirror, he brings his camera up, blocking both of your faces with it, and snapping a few photos.
“We look so good together,” He says as he looks through the photos. He lowers the camera and looks at you. “You are stunning and I couldn’t be luckier.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course I do,” He pecks your lips and sets his camera off to the side as he deepens the kiss. “And if you are pregnant? I would definitely be the luckiest man in the world.” He topples you both over and reaches above you to flick off the lamp.
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