#'now what do we do when the salad thoughts over take us?'

[captain-kit-adventuress]

Billion-dollar idea: we need motivational coaches to help people stop dieting.

[luveline]

also if you’re still taking requests for some established relationship criminal minds fics…

could i possibly get spencer and his bombshell when she’s having issues with not getting as hungry as she usually does? like she eats her fill but her fill is less food than she normally eats? this is very self indulgent so feel free to skip 🙏

thank you for requesting <3 bombshell, fem

“Spencer, lovely?” 

Spencer believes that only occasionally do you use your powers of seduction against him. This stringing of words, Spencer, his name, rolling off of your tongue, and lovely, so quaint and said so nicely, how you’ve called out, that’s unintentional. That’s pure niceness. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, getting up to find you. 

The point of you staying at Spencer’s apartment is to see you, why isn’t he seeing you? (Dramatic. He invites you to spend time here because you want to and he wants you, and whatever you do while you’re here is fine by him.) 

You’re in the kitchen peeling fruits. A whole fruit salad, green and red apples cut in small slices like prep for an apple-sugar crumble, peeled tangerine, strawberries, pear, grapes. “Nothing is wrong,” you sing-song. “Wait, why do you think that?” 

“No reason.” He sweeps as much of your mountain of peels and off cuts into his hand as he can and carries it to his mini compost bin. This’ll take some time. “You did call me, though?” 

“Yeah, I want your opinion.” You slice through another strawberry.

Spencer cleans the last of the peels away, rinses his hands, and creeps up on you. “Why are you drawing this out? Is it an important question? Don’t be nervous,” he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Your shoulder is soft where he presses his nose. 

“It’s not important, I just wanna know if you think it’s okay to melt some chocolate and drizzle it over the fruit. Is that greedy? Am I gonna go into a sugar overload?” 

“That’s not greedy.” Spencer laughs softly, kissing your cheek. 

You pull away from him, but only to look at him with your own smile. It’s one he’s starting to know rather well, the I love you smile, fond and indulgent at once. It makes you look like you’re gonna pinch his cheeks. 

“You’re hungry, right?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I am.” It’s a lot of fruit. Spencer doesn’t know exactly why he says it at that very moment, but he suggests, “How about we make a little pot for fondue instead. That way if we don’t eat it all now we can put the fruit back in the fridge.” 

“You just want me to feed you,” you tease. 

Spencer hadn’t thought about it, but the image is a pleasant one. “Fondue was invented purely for dessert purposes at first, no seduction involved.” 

“Let’s involve it anyway.” 

He grins. “Before or after we eat?” he asks lightly. 

You tell him before in a way that reminds him that you aren’t just his best friend but his twin flame, drawing him close to you, your hands fragrant with orange rind and the sweet strawberry juice staining your fingertips. You take his face into your hands as he holds your waist, and when you kiss him, he smiles the entire time. 

“It wasn’t just chocolate,” he says, pulling away. “It was cream and cherry liquor, too.” 

“We should try it one day.” 

Spencer resists the urge to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks. “Yeah, we will.” 

He melts some chocolate and heats a small round dish in the oven. He pours the chocolate into the dish and you, impressed, sing his praises as you make some lemonade slush in the blender. It’s a fresh, cold snack for a warmer day. You take it in the living room with the window wide open and the drapes drawn back, sunshine at your feet. 

Spencer pulls you into his lap as much as you’ll allow him on the couch, the coffee table dragged to be in front of you, the TV remote held hostage under your arm. You dip a slice of apple into chocolate and offer it to him.

Spencer accepts it. He finds, as the bowl empties, the chocolate cools, that you don’t seem to eat very much. He slows his grazing in case he’s being greedy, but after what could only be a handful of fruit you’re done, curling into his side and hugging his leg. Your attention is on the TV but your legs wiggle restlessly.

“Is something on your mind?” he asks. 

“I don’t feel very hungry.” 

“That’s okay. It was a lot of fruit, angel, we can wrap it up.” 

“I feel like my appetite is awful lately,” you lament, sitting up to tip back across his lap, your shoulders to his thighs, looking up at him with a frown. “Do I look like I’ve lost weight to you?” 

Spencer holds your cheek. “I haven’t noticed anything, are you worried?” he asks, rubbing the softest part of your cheek with his thumb. 

“I guess it’s not a bad thing?” You wince. 

“It’s not a bad thing if you don’t feel hungry, but you need to eat. Maybe we can just switch to some dense food for a while. Protein bars and nuts, stuff like that.” Spencer leans down to tap your noses together. You laugh under your breath. “Do you want to lose weight?” he asks, frowning. 

“Not really. I’d prefer not to.” 

“Okay, good. You’re perfect like this,” he says. “We can just make sure you get your intake through whatever means necessary until we figure out what’s changed. Maybe you’re just changing. We can start having smaller meals throughout the day. It’s better for digestion.” 

You reach for a curl, twisting it around your fingers. “I have an appetite for you, at least.” 

“That’s corny,” he says. 

“You love it, though.” 

Spencer pushes the ‘diminishing appetite’ search results from his head. He can worry later, when you’ve been well and thoroughly kissed. 

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 062 - E-Rank! Sung Jinwoo x Fem! Reader: First Date ◛⑅·˚ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Just say my name || Speedin' to you baby switching lanes ] ¡! ❞

"Jinah, do I look alright?" Jinwoo sighs, seemingly a bit stressed as he tries to fix his unkept hair.

"Nah, you look as stupid as ever" She teases, laughing at her brother who retaliates by pinching her cheek. "Ow, ow!"

She wriggles out of her brother's hold, lightly smacking a throw pillow on his arm, "Ugh, you're just going on a date and you're this nervous? Man, you're hopeless"

"I'm not buying you chicken wing anymore with how insolent you are to you big brother" Jinwoo teases, ruffling up her hair just to piss his little sister off even more.

"Hey, don't be like that" She grits her teeth, pouting at her brother who only smiles innocently as if he does no wrong. "Just don't piss yourself trying to get a girlfriend."

"... And I better not be coming home with mess all over the house" He simply deflects her insult, not entirely sure if even he can keep calm during his first date (but surely he wouldn't get that bad, right) "Do you laundry at the exact hour, I want this place spotless by the time I come back or I'm forcefeeding you salad for the next three weeks."

"What a jerk, taking out his anger on me when he screws up his date"

Her jokes were met with deaf ears as Jinwoo put on his shoes and went out the door.

It took him a total of 7 attempts on asking you out for a date. He was supposed to do the 7th one before his double dungeon raid that actually killed him but backed away last minute because he was too nervous to actually form words.

He doesn't know how he did it this time, but he did and got to ask you out on a date on some stroke of luck that he didn't fumble (well he did a few times) to say it aloud. Actually, he nearly yelled too.

But nobody will talk about it, surely you will forget about his stutters.

Anyway, he fixed his hair again by looking at his reflection on his phone screen before shoving it into his pocket. He waited for a few minutes near the station until he hears the familiar taps of your footsteps coming his way.

As weird as it is, Jinwoo started recognizing footstep patterns ever since he got the system. Though he's only arounf level... 50? He had a ton of upgrades, it's no surprise his senses will pick up on the oddest things.

"Sorry, am I late?" Your soft voice breaks through as he was a bit lost in his train of thoughts.

"Ah, huh? No... No, I just arrived" He pushes himself off of the wall he was resting on, trying his best not to show how flustered he is at the moment. "How about we get lunch first?"

"Sure!" You beam, accepting the hand he was awkwardly holding out.

꒰ .... ꒱

Jinwoo swore to himself he wouldn't be too nervous today, but he ended up biting his own tail with how antsy he was all day. He never went out on a date before, but he wanted today to be the best day for you to some extent.

It's his first date, who would want to screw it up? He could only really wish for the best. But with your adorable expression right now, he could atleas tbe a bit relieved right?

"How cute" You say, looking down on the claw machine holding a bunch of plushies. "They're huge too."

"Well, they look like they are half your size" He said as he looks down on the machine. "It even looks like you"

"Hahah" You softly shove his arm before pointing at a black kitty plush inside. "That one looks like you, now I kinda want it"

"Pfft...." He shakes his head, knowing you're making fun of him since the cat had a rather sleepy look to it's face. "Alright, stay here"

You waited for a little while and he returns with a single token in hand.

"I used to play this game a lot for my little sister when we were kids, I think I can win you that one." Jinwoo says, pretending he absolutely wont use dominator's touch to save time and let you enjoy the plushie sooner than later.

Of course, he keeps a close eye on you as you waited in baited breath as he catches(cheats) to get you the plushie. Well he won. Of course he does. Dominator's touch is surprisingly so handy even outside of combat. (As if he doesnt also use it when he feels too lazy to reach for the the tv remote)

Jinwoo merely hands you the plushie, smiling as if he didn't use dirty tricks.

You wont know anyway, with how cute and bubbly you are right now— You totally don't even realize, so it's fine really. He'll just keep it a secret as he fondly watches you gush over the cute plushie you consider as a mini him.

"I'll name him Jinwoo" You beam proudly, skipping in your steps as Jinwoo himself merely chuckles and shakes his head.

"So I'm a dad now?" He asks as you nod your head. "Hahah."

"Well, it looks like you so?" You only smile, making his heart flutter even ore at the sight of your happy and pretty face nuzzling against the little thing.

"Then Jinwoo jr will be in charge of making sure mom doesn't get any nightmares and keep her pretty little head full of blissful dreams" He gently pokes its tiny nose, deciding to play along with your game. "And you, should be going home now"

"Already?" You pouts as he gently guides you back to the train station. "But I'm having way too much fun"

"I know, but we're both busy tomorrow, so you need a lot of sleep" Jinwoo shook his head, before throwing another smile "I take it you will say yes when I ask you for another date?"

"...."

You ponder for a little while before standing on your feet and kissing his cheek, "That answers your question, right?"

You then turn away to go up the station, leaving the poor hunter frozen on his spot to process what the hell just happened. Jinwoo's heart raced at an impossible speed as the gears in his brain were seemingly put on a screeching halt.

It took him a while to recover but eventually he turns around and silently hums to himself, his fair cheeks dusted with a faint hue of pink as he revels in his victory.

Who was that goddamn ahjussi who said E-ranks cant get into dates and be succesful? He hopes to see that bastard again and throw him a middle finger because that is a total lie.

After all, the unfortunate E-rank him who has nothing much to show has gotten your heart. Isn't that a win?

In a way, he wanted to know too. Will you, who is just a normal person— Accept the him today who has nothing much to show? And today answered his doubts.

Now Jinwoo is completely sure of his decision of falling for you. Since you are here for the him today, he'll make sure the him tomorrow will be at your mercy once he gains the right and capabilities to be an S-ranker.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: a fluffy sung jinwoo fic because I am feeling particularly more in love with him as of late. I'll try to do hsr content I swear heheh.... But for now I hope you are alright with just me gushing over my main hubby woowoo<33. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[sdmnpact]

Enchanted.

Wroetoshaw x Reader angst

[] requested by @sundarksposts 💕

[] Harry, your long time friend goes on a date making your true feelings for him hard to fight.

♪ Now Playing: Enchanted by Taylor Swift ♪

I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

~~~

I was invited over to dinner by one of my best friend's Talia. I was on my way over there when I recieved a text.

Talia: ooh, I guess Simon invited Josh and Frey, do you still wanna come over? 😭

Me: it's fine, I don't hate being a fifth wheel 😚

Talia: if anything Josh and Simon are gonna be the fourth and fifth wheels babes 😘

Me: True, I'm omw!! 🥰

>>>

"Hey!!" I greeted as Talia hugged me after opening the door. "Hey!! It's been too long since we've seen eachother in person!" Talia said leading me towards the kitchen.

"You guys act like a week is a year." Simon said standing by the counter eating something. "Leave that!" Talia said smacking his hand away from the salad bowl. I chuckled at how adorable they are together.

"So, since it's basically a couples night featuring you, should we invite Harry!?" Talia said raising her eyebrows at me. Simon 'ood' like a little school boy causing my cheeks to get hot. "Stop it- no, Harry texted me he was gonna be busy tonight." I responded grabbing the salad bowl taking it to the dining table as Talia followed with another plate.

"What's he doing tonight?" She asked. "I have no clue, he wouldn't tell. He just said it was something important and I shouldn't worry." I actually didn't know what he was doing tonight. We had just hung out yesterday and he was acting weird all day. He's one of my best mates and we share so much with eachother. It kind of felt like he was holding a secret.

"Si, do you know what Harry's up to tonight?" Talia asked as Simon sat at the table. "You don't know?" He asked looking towards me. Now I was very confused. I shook my head as he let out a sigh and a worried expression filled his face.

"Harry's out on a date." My heart sunk.

Like I said, Harry and I were really good mates so it's not like we were dating but we've know eachother for almost a decade now and well, I guess I caught feeling for the man. I didn't want to admit it but I've longed for him for a couple years now. I didn't fancy him when we first met but one night, I was drunk- very drunk and I was with Harry. I don't remember much from that night but I have the most vivid memory of the way he treated me.

He didn't try to take advantage of me, quite the opposite. We were with a couple friends, many males and he became so protective. He wouldn't let me out of his sight. At the end of the night, he took me to my flat and put me in bed. He sat with me until I fell asleep stroking my hair. I found him so enchanting. He was such a gentleman. I fell in love with him after that and I've been pining after him since. I never wanted to try anything with him because I love him too much as a friend to lose him.

Hearing this news was earth shattering though. I know he has one night stands occasionally but this was an actual date. He never goes on dates unless he likes the girl and this hasn't happened in years. I fear, I'll lose him this time. I'll never get my chance, not that I would've tried. I should have, who knows how he felt about me-

"Y/n? Are you okay love?" Talia said wiping at my cheek. Tears had been streaming down my face and I didn't realize. "Oh, uh yeah, just, I've gotta use the toliet." I said making my way towards the bathroom. I felt like throwing up, I felt like my heart hurt, I just wanted to cry. I didn't realize I felt this way about him. I thought it was a simple crush.

I sat on the toliet seat letting the tears just fall down my face. I looked at myself in the mirror, my makeup was a huge mess. Maybe I should just head home before Josh and Freya get here.

Just as that thought left my head, I heard the front door open and Josh's voice boom throughout the house. He was always quite loud and made sure to make his presence known. I chuckled as he made a little joke.

I know I have to leave the bathroom but I also don't want them to see me like this. I tried fixing my makeup as best as I could and walked out. I saw all of them standing nearby staring at me.

"Awww my girl are you okay?" Freya said as she extended her arms hugging me with Talia joining in. This honestly made me cry more.

"I'm alright, but I think I should go home, I don't wanna ruin the evening." I said as I pulled away, wiping at my face. "No, don't even think about it. Let's have a little night in instead, why don't we eat a bit then, the three of us can go watch movies in my room." Talia said wrapping an arm around me. I looked over to the boys who had sympathetic looks on their face.

"Okay... sorry boys." I said still sniffling a bit. "Don't worry about it Y/n, we're just glad you'll stay here and won't be alone." Josh said as Simon nodded. "You guys are too sweet, I love you all." I said through tears. "We love you too!" Freya said as they hugged me again.

>>>

《 Harry's Pov 》

"So, you like golf?" I asked. I was on a date with this girl I met on tinder. She's quite fit and I really like her personality but she's kinda giving me nothing. Maybe it's me, I don't know why I just don't feel much for her. I was really excited for this date but actually being here is quite- strange.

"Not really, it's so boring." She said taking a small forkful of her salad. I don't think this is gonna work out to be honest. She's missing something, I just don't know what.

I felt my phone buzz and I didn't wanna pull it out in front of her but the conversation was so dead, I really wanted to check who it was. "I'm gonna head to the toliet." I told her as she nodded. I walked towards the men's room, immediately pulling out my phone, looking at the notification.

Simon: Harry, how's the date going?

Harry: oh mate, it's fucking awful. She's giving me nothing here.

Simon: well, I think you should come to my place soon then.

Harry: ??

Simon: Y/n is in shambles over here, I don't know if I should tell you why but I think she'd benefit from seeing you.

Harry: already on the way

Holy fuck. I hope she's okay. I sped walked out of the toliet getting lots of odd looks as I reached the table.

"Hey, um there's an emergency and I've really gotta go!" I told her. "Oh my god, is everything okay?" She asked with wide eyes about to get up. "Yeah, it's just something I gotta take care of. Here's for dinner, order whatever else you'd like and I'll text you soon." I said placing two hundred pounds on the table.

"Oh- um I'd really rather if you wouldnt actually." She said quietly. "Oh... okay then. Well I guess I'll see you then." I said awkwardly as I got my jacket and left. I quickly called over the first cab I saw and headed towards Simon's house.

>>>

《 Y/n's Pov 》

Talia and Freya are so great. I don't know what I did to deserve such amazing friends. They really eased my suffering as we watched 'The Proposal' while we ate snacks and had some wine.

We heard some shuffling coming from the living room and Talia went to check it out as we continued watching the movie.

"Hey Y/n? Someone's here for you." Talia said with a smile on her face. That's weird. I wonder who it is. I gave her a confused look and she just gestured for me to go. I got up and walked towards the living room.

I saw Harry standing by the door in his date outfit. I know because he only wears sweatshirts and shorts but right now he had on some slacks and a turtleneck. He looked very handsome actually. But why is he here?

"Y/n are you okay?" He asked the second he saw me coming over and wrapping his arms around me.

"Um, yeah, I'm alright. What are you doing here? Don't you have a date tonight?" I asked and he let me go and gave Simon a little annoyed look. Simon shrugged as he walked to another room leaving just us two in the living room.

"Yeah. I did. Sorry I didn't tell you, I don't know why I didn't want you to know. I just... I don't know. But- what happened to you!?! Is everything alright? It looks like you've been crying." He said pulling me towards the couch. We sat down and I just looked towards my hands, feeling the tears well up again. Why am I still crying, I shouldn't be this emotional.

"It's nothing really, just hormones I think. I'm alright now. You didn't have to come. I don't even know how you knew, you should've enjoyed your date!" I said wiping at my eye.

"Well for one, that date was fucking horrendous." He said with a breathy laugh. "The girl didn't even like me in the end and she was just not it for me either. She wasn't the girl I need to be with." He continued. "Also Simon texted me that you were upset and I knew I needed to be over here instead." He said reaching for my hand. I looked towards him, as he had been staring at me intensely.

"Seriously are you okay? You're crying again." He said wiping at my cheek. "Fuck Harry." I said now fully bawling.

"I think I like you." I said unable to hold my feelings in. Like I said, he's always so tender with me and I just love him so much. He's always so sweet and maybe I'm just being dumb and falling for any man who shows me an ounce of niceness.

"You think? Or you know?" He said as I furrowed my brows towards him. "Y/n. I've liked you for fucking ages!!" He said. My heart immediately started pounding so hard. "I know how I've felt about you since the moment we met. All these years I've always had something for you. You're amazing, the way you make me laugh like no one else, the way you aren't afraid to be yourself, the way you eat like a dog and aren't shy around me." He said with a little laugh.

"Tonight was me trying to get over you. We've know eachother for such a long time and we've never had anything together. It's been hard trying not to hug or kiss you whenever I want. I needed to find a distraction from you. All you do is cloud my mind." He said sitting closer.

"I didn't know you felt this way." I said smiling. "It's always been you, Y/n. I never wanted anyone else but you." He finished.

"Kiss kiss kiss" we heard faint voices say. I laughed at this as I looked towards him. He shrugged and leaned into me, planting his lips on mine. As cliché as it sounds, I truly had butterflies in my stomach and I felt extremely happy in this moment. After a couple seconds, we pulled away.

"I'm so glad you came."

"I am too."

~~~

A/n

I'm actually in love with this one! It's so adorable, I hope you enjoyed it!! Also I melt every single time he wears those turtle neck tops- he looks incredible!!

[thedexcat]

ENA:DBBQ Speculation Megapost

OBVIOUSLY SPOILERS AHEAD Hyperfixation waxes and wanes over the ocean of interpretive works, and I once again find myself on the shores of a new captivation. Now, I'm not the type to listen to other's interpretations of things before forming my own thoughts. Perhaps this will be retreading old ground, perhaps there will be fresh takes. I just want to commit my thoughts to writing before I slide down the slippery slope of feature-length lore videos and whatnot.

So, where to begin on the subject of ENA: Dream BBQ Chapter 1? I think a good starting point would be...

1: The Title Character Herselves, ENA

Right from the very first trailer, we could all tell: This ENA is different from the one we know from the webseries. Some say that this is a different ENA from before. Others suggest that perhaps something changed her. Maybe it's something in between. For the purposes of this post, I will be referring to this ENA as being her own individual, with no connection to the previous ENA until proven otherwise. The ENA of Dream BBQ will be simply be referred to as ENA. The ENA of the webseries will be referred to as "Ur-ENA"

So, we have a salesperson with a bit of a short temper. But as we experience the world through her eyes, there are some questions that come to mind. The first of which is, "What is her job anyway?" Well, right off the bat, there's some troubling implications. She appears to be after a "Boss", who has gone into hiding, and whom ENA and Froggy refer to as their "Target". The obvious interpretation is that ENA is a contract killer of some sort. But... there is room for doubt.

It was Froggy who first refers to The Boss as a "Work Target", very specifically using English words, that "wacky language" as he calls it. He may have coined this phrase without necessarily knowing the connotations of referring to a person as a "Target". This is brought up by Theodora the Genie, who asks ENA, "Do you even know the ingredients of that word salad?"

But, for reasons we'll get into later, it wouldn't be particularly surprising to anyone if ENA was hired to kill someone. Not after the incident.

CHEESE AND RICE, ENA

As you talk to more and more people in the game, it becomes clear that this ENA is universally despised. Even a lot of the more agreeable characters tend to have some hint of resentment in their words when speaking to her.

This brings us to what appears to be the underlying theme of Dream BBQ: Sin and Forgiveness. ENA has evidentially committed some unspeakable act in the past, some great Sin that has made her known throughout all the worlds. As to the severity of this Sin? We get a hint when ENA first lays eyes on the Bathroom, a place that has been referred to as somewhere where Sins are absolved and Truth is revealed (seriously, two of the stalls have a damn confessional window between them).

"A giant bathroom? Uggh... It's not enough for this many bodies. I hate myself."

This seems to be heavily implying that ENA was apparently responsible for a horrific massacre that occurred in the past. An act beyond any hope of redemption, hammered home by the conversation with Theodora if you actually make it to the Bathroom.

When first speaking to Theodora, she mistakenly forgives ENA's Sins briefly, which immediately mends the gaping wound in her body. Whatever is going on with Human(?) ENA, it seems clear that the wound is representative of guilt rather than a literal physical injury. Ultimately, Theodora offers to fulfill one of ENA's Asperations, and you're presented with the only dialogue options offered in the current version of the game. You're given a list of choices, but you quickly learn that desires are never fulfilled, nor quenched. Any option that would immediately bring ENA peace is doomed to fail for one reason or another.

Like the rest of them... Like the rest of them... A blissful life? No, that aspiration is beyond what ENA is capable of herself, and cannot be granted.

Eternal happiness? No, the natural order of things cannot be changed.

Frank's forgiveness? Refuted outright, in a way that implicitly says "You know perfectly well why you cannot have that." Punishing the Moon? No, the only one that deserves to be punished for being born is ENA herself. All that ENA can aspire to is to perform the task that she has been given. Nothing more. You leave with more questions than you entered with.

Despite all this, ENA carries on with an unwavering faith in G0D and destiny. Several of her interactions bring up matters of faith in a way that seems to... agitate people. Perhaps they see her penitent ways as a means to evade the consequences of her past actions. Perhaps they may even be right. Regardless, ENA seems to find comfort in the idea of an inevitable fate outside of her control.

(And now for the super speculative part that has me going off of 'vibes' more than anything concrete.) As for her Sin, well, my personal interpretation is that the Incident occurred due to ENA being negligent rather than malicious. I could be way off, but the intense weight of her guilt feels like it comes from a 'personal failure', a mindset reflected in her extremely adamant work ethic.

When attending the Purge Event, even though it's for the sake of reaching the Bathroom, she seems completely devastated by the thought that she is on some level slacking off while on the job.

Her limbs get tangled in gnarled branches emerging from her heart. In these moments, she is fighting against herself. Are the branches restraining her from performing her duties, representing her intrusive desire to lose her worries in the vore disco Purge Event? Or are the branches the opposite, her sense of responsibility unnaturally forcing her not to partake in any of the frivolity?

Honestly, it's too soon to tell exactly. Regardless of the specifics, my personal takeaway is that her work ethic probably stems from some disaster that she could have averted if she were more dutiful. Yet she is still at odds with herself, perhaps yearning to live her life in the carefree way that she (probably) used to. Anyway. That's my analysis/interpretation of ENA herself. But I'm not done with this post yet. We've barely touched the subject of...

2- The Genies of the Doors

Beyond each Door lies a land governed by a Genie. In keeping with the 'digital' theming of the series, I've taken to calling each land beyond a Door a "Domain".

Beyond the Lonely Door is the Domain of the recluse Theodora.

Beyond the Crowd Door is Domain of the deviant Pierro.

And lastly, beyond the Horse Door lies the Domain of a fresh corpse.

Therein lies an interesting issue: Genies, while powerful granters of desires, can be killed. Not only that, but one person you can question at the start of the game has this to say: "No Pierro the Genie, no town." This implies that their existence somehow reshapes the world around them, fitting for such powerful entities. So... what does that imply about a Genie getting killed? The game branches twice in the first chapter. The first branching moment is whether to go to the Purge Event or to complete all the sidequests to unlock the Humanboard and ascend to the orb in the sky. These two branches end up leading to the same destination, the nexus outside the Bathroom. Here, the game branches a second time...

If you fail to cross the river (or interact with the puking guy on the other side. fuck that guy he made me do even more runs.) you end up taking a roundabout path to your destination, and you ultimately find that Theodora, the Genie of the Lonely Door, has died at the bottom of what seems to be a well.

But hang on... If you successfully cross the river and go directly to the Bathroom, Theodora is alive and well! In the well! So what gives?

Well, after your meeting with her in either branch, the world begins to change. Places begin to lose their definition, becoming either distorted or changing into pure white geometry. Landmarks become clipart drifting in the air. Real estate investors swoop in on the newly freed up land. The Domain of Theodora is no more, and the Lonely Door is closing.

Many of the people are gone, replaced by familiar strangers.

...I would like to take this moment to point out that the main theme song of the game, Anemoia, is a word meaning "Nostalgia for a time or place that one has never known."

Anyway, this inevitable loss of identity seems to imply that no matter which route you take, Theodora dies. Whether you're too early or too late, ENA doesn't find out who or what killed the genie. Between this and the murder of the unnamed third genie, there is some malicious entity just barely out of sight, slaying genies for unknown reasons. When considering what this could mean for the story down the line, I recall a certain line spoken by a certain goblin of a girl.

"Rude entities like you get punished for the sins of others." Someone is maliciously reshaping the world. And if these acts are as disastrous as they seem, then ENA is in a prime position to take the fall in their stead. She's already known to have caused some kind of calamity, and she's attempting to seek audience with the genies as they're actively being killed off. Should we meet with Pierro in a later installment, I imagine that things will take a swift downturn from there. It's a shame we don't know anything about the third genie...

...or do we? *Vsauce theme*

3- The Shadow of Ur-ENA

The connections between Dream BBQ and the webseries are few and nebulous... but they are there if you look in the right places. The Extinction Party is mentioned by one of the taxi driver's heads, and the location of that episode can be briefly spotted behind one of the doors of the Purge Event. The Domain beyond the Lonely Door starts morphing into the setting of Auction Day. But there's one point of connection that's been nagging at me... and it's pretty obtuse 🐬

Dialing a hidden phone number, we're met with Phindoll....'s answering machine. The message explains that he's looking for some kind of employment. Perhaps he suddenly lost his job? Who was he working for back when we saw him last? ...Oh, yeah. Runas. That wish-granting entity... on the other side of a... Door... ... The Great Runas might be fucking dead, guys.

We've now seen implications that this game takes place before Auction Day... but after Temptation Stairway. If linear causality has any role in this story, it's as a horrified onlooker.

Of course, this can be reconciled if Runas turns out to be the new genie that replaces the murdered one. But dialogue early in the game suggests that temporal shenanigans may be afoot. After all, the low-poly lady at the desk claims...

"You are too late! The Boss isn't even born yet!"

She's... a very blunt, straightforward person. None of her other lines are nearly as ambiguous and confusing as this one, so I'm inclined to take this line at face value. We are in no position to be making assumptions about how concepts like time even work in this setting. So what does this all mean? ... ... I dunno. We only have chapter 1 to work off of, after all.

But if Runas was in fact the murdered Genie, then there is one suspect in particular that pops into my mind. Someone who has met Runas. Someone who was... unimpressed. Dissatisfied. And found herself trapped inside his domain for a long, long time.

That's all for now. There's some glaring points in the story that I simply didn't have enough insight on to really remark upon. (Was that the Holy Code in the ending cutscene? What does ENA's body-hopping power entail? What was with the other ENA in the sewers, and who was she talking to?) Also at this point, my fingers are snapping in half from typing out all of these thoughts. A lot of this was just my personal interpretation, so don't be surprised if it clashes with the analysis of other people. In all likelihood, when the future chapters come out, I'll look back at this post and laugh at how dumb I was.

[violetarks]

“baby keep talking, but nobody’s listening!”

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: gojo satoru, choso, fushiguro toji

summary: they find you on a date with someone they've never seen before, but they don't need to look for long to see how bored you were. deciding for you that it would be the first and only date you ever went on with that man, they come to your rescue.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is on a date with a man, said date sucks ass (trying to regulate what y/n eats, snarky comments, egotistical, rude to hospitality workers), shoko/itadori/shiu help set you up on a date but they suck at it

↣ gojo satoru

"satoru, you have to get out," you huff at him, crossed arms over your chest. he sat on your cough, flicking through tv channels. "my date is coming here in ten minutes!"

"you mean the stranger that shoko met at the mall and said would 'totally be your type'?" he says, looking over his shoulder to you. you raise a brow. "c'mon, blow him off. we need to finish 'the last of us'!"

"don't you dare watch it while i'm gone, satoru, or god so help me—" your phone rings, interrupting your threat. you answer when you see the number of your date. "hello? oh, yes, this is y/n."

you begin to walk to grab your keys and your bag, satoru following after you when you suddenly stop.

"oh, uh... you want to meet there?" you say, tilting your head, "no, that's fine, i'll leave now. see you—..."

"he's not coming to pick you up?" satoru questions, watching as you take out your car keys.

"he's actually already there. and he's ordered for me." you say with a bit of doubt in your voice. satoru can hear it. "it's fine, i should go now. don't you dare watch that show, i will kill you. see you, satoru."

the whole time you're gone, he can’t do anything. he’s sitting in silence for an hour, not even looking at his phone. he felt angry at himself.

so he followed you, obviously.

he looked up the restaurant you had mentioned to him before and saw the pictures posted online. it looked like such a nice first date place. and that boiled even more jealousy in him. of course he had to follow you.

and luckily he did; you looked miserable.

he takes out his phone as soon as possible.

“you know how many calories are in that meal?” your date said after the waiter left your table, “way better for you than what you wanted.”

you had just told him your favourite dish in the menu. and he told you he ordered you just a salad. while he got two meals because he was ‘bulking’.

when shoko showed you his instagram, you had to admit that he was cute. he was fit too, and you did your fair share of exercise. he had a nice smile and he also posted photos of his dog. but that couldn’t shield you from what was right in front of you.

you found out he was a model for a magazine you’ve never heard of, and while that was impressive, it was his whole personality. you asked about his pet, and he somehow turned it back to his career and how he did a fireman themed calendar last year. you’d think he was surely more than that, but it didn’t seem it. you had barely talked about yourself. it didn’t look like he was interested anyway.

“hm, what did i do today?” he thought out. you cringed at the way he tapped his chin, pretending to think. “i hit the gym at 5am, walked my pet for an hour and a half, took some photos for my resume since i’ve got a new deal coming up, and spent time from then to now just at the studio.”

you were waiting for him to ask about your day. he doesn’t.

“and you know, i’m actually the most valued model at my studio. they always call me for shoots, i’m always first on their list. you’d think i could catch a break every so often,” he chuckles out, rubbing up and down his arms. you hold back from rolling your eyes as you sip your water. “but it’s hard being so… handsome.”

you stare at him and fight the urge to roll your eyes once again.

"what about you?" the moment you've waited for comes a little too late. you're not even interested in speaking about yourself.

"well, i did some grocery shopping this morning—"

"what did you buy?"

"me and my friends are having a movie tomorrow, so i just bought some snacks for us," you explained for some reason, "chocolates, popcorn, chips—"

"junk food?" he scoffs back, "no, no, you don't need all that. you oughta' bring it back and get some fruit. way better for you."

you down the rest of your alcoholic drink you had ordered (the one thing he did let you choose) and look away.

that is when you feel a hand rest on your upper back.

"excuse me, ma'am," you look up and widen your eyes when you see satoru standing before you. he's wearing a white button-up, black slacks, dress shoes and a black waist apron. you freeze up. "the gentleman over there asked me to give you this, already paid for."

you look over to where he was pointing. nanami sits in his own suit as he waves his hand at you, pained smile. satoru places a mojito in front of you. your date stands up.

"the hell? doesn't he see that i'm here?" he scoffs as he stands up. his chair screeches against the floor, which collects everyone's attention in the restaurant. "he's insulting me! what a prick! i'm gonna fuck him up!"

"hey!" you stand up as he begins trudging over. satoru places a hand on your shoulder to stop you, and you see nanami roll his eyes and stand up as well, ready for the fight. "what are you two doing here? and why are you dressed like that?"

"i'm the ultimate undercover agent, of course," he replies. he begins pulling off his apron and dropping it on your seat. he hooks his arm with yours and smiles. "let's get outta' here."

"but my date—"

"he's fine," you watch as nanami dodges one of his punches with and irritated face. "nanami will take care of him."

you let him whisk you out of the restaurant while everyone is watching the two men fight (not really). satoru walks you to his car and starts the engine. you see nanami's car behind his.

"did you seriously bring him along to get me out of that date?" you chuckle as you stare at him. satoru purses his lips and looks away. "thank you, satoru. you didn't have to."

"you're welcome, gorgeous," he responds to you, "i could tell from the phone call that he wasn't all that. wonder what barrel they fished him out of."

you let out a small sigh and look out the window. you were embarrassed; this was the first date you've ever been set up on, and it went horribly. you knew you should've left earlier, not wait until satoru came along. he was your saviour for today, you had to admit.

but what was even worse, you seemingly let than man talk to you like that. you could chalk it up to just being friendly and giving him the best benefit of the doubt, but deep down you know you would never have let that slide with people you know. hell, yaga could speak to you that way and you would still give him an earful.

"don't be sad, y/n, now we can go to yours and watch our show," satoru attempts to cheer you up. he flashes you a smile. "i promise, i won't eat all your food."

"you're a liar, satoru." you laugh back.

"seriously though, that guy was a wreck. why did he keep talking about calories and stuff?" he mumbles out with a disapproving shake of his head, "i had to shut him up somehow. i should've just spilt the drink over him."

"oh god, what about the food? i didn't pay for my meal."

"you mean the salad you didn't want? i cancelled it for ya'."

"why aren't you this nice all the time? you usually bully me." you claim in a joking matter. satoru pouts at you. "i appreciate this, a lot. i guess guys who only ever think about themselves aren't my type."

there's a quietness in the car as he turns on his indicator. you enjoy the little noise coming from the radio, a song that you've heard quite a lot.

"you know, yuuji, nobara and megumi?" he clears his throat.

"yeah?" you respond to him in confusion.

"yeah," he hums with a nod of his head, "i think 'bout them a lot. they're good kids."

"they are," you agree with him. it takes you a few seconds before you look at him again. "satoru, that's not what i meant."

"so am i your type?"

"oh my god."

"answer the question, y/n."

↣ choso

"yuuji?"

"yeah?"

"do you know who this is?" choso shoves his phone into his brother's face.

"uh, that's y/n." yuuji responds in a bit of confusion. the two of them were sitting in a new restaurant with ramen on their tables. choso’s sat nearly untouched for the past ten minutes as he flicked through some pictures you sent to a groupchat with him in it. yuuji was halfway through chewing noodles when choso asked him about the photo you sent a few minutes ago. “why? she looks good.”

“no doubt,” choso mutters in response as he zooms in on the other figure in the picture you took of your reflections in the window, “i mean him.”

“oh, that’s the guy who me, nobara and y/n saw last week at the movies,” yuuji responds, “he asked y/n for her number, so i think they’re out together right now.”

he looks at yuuji in disbelief as the pink-haired boy starts slurping on the soup. it takes him a few seconds to properly react.

“are you serious?” choso says a little loudly. people turn to stare at the pair. “you let him get her number?”

“what? he seemed cool and y/n didn’t seem to mind that i gave it to him.” yuuji holds his hands up in defense as choso angrily glares at the photos on his phone screen. “you said you weren’t gonna’ make a move on her anyway!”

“that doesn’t—” a groan leaves his lips as choso holds his head. he lets in a deep breath. “okay, it’s fine.”

“i’m sorry, choso.”

“no, it’s my fault, i did say i wasn’t going to ask her out,” he tells yuuji, who slowly goes back to eating, “i… i missed out, i guess.”

yuuji frowns as the guy in front of him sadly eats his food.

“you know…” he begins with a small smile. choso looks up to him. “they’re just out for lunch nearby. y/n told me where they were going. we could—”

“yuuji! hurry up!” choso has grabbed his jacket and is rushing to the door before yuuji can reply, “we might miss them!”

yuuji scurries out of restaurant after he gobbles down his ramen. it isn’t too far of a drive, actually. it took about 15 minutes to get there and choso had easily spotted your car in front of a cozy cafe. he parks next to it and almost ducks when be notices you in the chair facing the window, facing the two of them, with your date sitting in the booth — your favourite spot. choso always let you sit in the booth side.

choso clutched onto the steering wheel with gritted teeth. yuuji looked towards you to get a better view.

“huh… she looks annoyed.” yuuji points out.

“this guy…” choso grunts.

inside the cafe, you had taken a few photos of your food and your drink. you’re glad yuuji suggested this place, you loved the service and the food here. the servers were always so nice and helpful and quick, and the food was amazing too.

it was obvious to you that your date didn’t think the same.

“god, everything in here is so…” he begins as he examines the design on his waffles. he cringes a little. “girly.”

“it’s just a bunny design,” you point out as you sadly stir the cat-shaped foam into your hot drink, “it’s cute.”

“it’s embarrassing,” he reiterates. you purse your lips and sip your drink. the delicious taste was enough to make you forget his sour tone. until he speaks up again. “can’t believe your friend told us to go here.”

“i love this cafe,” you state, “everyone here is so nice.”

“the service is slow and they gave me the blueberry waffles instead of the normal ones like i said,” he complains. you set your drink down and hold back from rolling your eyes. “i don’t care how busy you are, you always check five times that the order is correct.”

you don’t even reply to him after that, only trying to enjoy your meal that you paid for. he wasn't helping at all. you thought that because he was so charismatic when talking to yuuji that he was probably a good catch, but you couldn't have been more wrong. maybe he was just putting up a front in order to score you. you really shouldn't judge a book by its cover anymore.

"hey. over here," he begins to snap his fingers and nodding at a server with four full plates of food. the guy looks over frantically, obviously under pressure. "i wanna' ask you something."

"ah, right, give me a second, sir—" the guy was trying to distribute the food with the customers who he was serving.

"i told you, slow service," your date scowls towards you. could you be any more embarrassed right now? the server finishes off his task before coming over to you two. before he can even ask, your date is holding up a nearly empty cup of coffee. "this is the most bitter coffee i have ever had in my whole entire life."

"oh, well, you ordered an americano, sir," the poor server explains, "they tend to be bitter."

"what? no, no, no," the guy in the booth starts shaking his head, "i ordered a flat white."

"you..." the server begins. he was the one who had taken your order too.

"you ordered the americano, actually," you pointed out. the guy raised a brow at you, unamused. "it's okay, you can just order a flat white—"

"god, i did not order an americano." he claims.

but you distinctly remember him saying 'americano' for his drink. and the server repeated the order back to him before it was confirmed annoyedly. you stare down at his nearly empty cup.

"y'know what? just put the flat white on the tab, i will pay for it." you sigh out as you rub your neck.

your date looks more pissed off as the server leaves.

"he was wrong, you don't have to pay for another drink." he mutters out.

"it's nothing, don't worry." you retort and stare back down at your food. you didn't have an appetite anymore and a few minutes pass in silence.

the flat white comes out after such a long time of waiting. your date drinks it quietly, but you notice that he makes a face to show he doesn't like it. you quickly excuse yourself to go and pay at the counter for your food (he insisted on splitting the bill since he didn't like the place) so that you don't have to hear him bicker about it.

"hey," you turn behind you to see choso standing there in a baggy hoodie, a bit nervous, "fancy seeing you here..."

your eyes flicker to outside, where you see yuuji waving at you from choso's car. a smile lands on your face.

"nice to see you, choso," you mutter back as you fish out your wallet. the cashier rings up your total and you press your card to the reader. "how was your lunch with yuuji?"

"good. we cut it short to save you," he bluntly says. you blink as he glares at your date. "i don't like the guy you're with."

"me neither," you sigh out, "i think this is the last time i'll see him. but i gotta' tough it out for the rest of the date."

"you could just leave now." choso adds. he looks at you with furrowed brows.

"ah... i'm not that confident—"

"a takeaway box and takeaway cup, please," choso asks the cashier. she had been sitting there and silently agreeing with you that the guy you were sitting with was a total jerk. "thank you."

he places them in your hands and pushes you gently towards the table.

"who the hell is this guy?" your date scoffs and glares at choso, who does the same back.

"look, i'm not really having a good time on this date," you say as you play with the takeaway boxes. choso hastily takes them from you and fills it with your food in an organised matter. "i think this is the farthest we go. please enjoy the rest of your food, though."

"you serious? ditching me for some jackass?" he accusingly points at choso who wears a shit-eating grin on his face. "this is bullshit!"

"calm down, god..." you groan and rub your temple, "i just don't like you, you're so rude."

"me? you're the one who dragged me to this shithole!"

"shut your mouth before i drop you right now," choso scowls as he pushes the guy back into the booth seat. everyone was watching now, quietly thanking choso for showing up and dealing with him. "grow up, man. you act like a child."

choso grabs your hand and tugs you out of the cafe. you both thank the service with your takeaway in hand. yuuji gets out of the car with a wide smile once you two get closer.

"so, how did it go?" he asks with wide eyes.

you throw your keys at his chest.

"you're driving my car back to my apartment as punishment for setting me up with that asshole," you say with a small frown. you all knew you didn't really blame him, though. "never giving my number out to anyone ever again."

yuuji apologises thoroughly before getting into your car and driving off in the wrong direction. choso opens your door and gives you the food. once he's inside the car himself, he starts it up and begins driving.

you rest a hand over choso's on the middle console.

"thanks, choso," you sigh out, "i should've done that earlier."

"it's fine, y/n, i just wished i came sooner." he replies.

you stare at the side of his face, how irritated he looked just thinking about your date. a smile settles onto your lips and you brush your thumb over his knuckles. he falters and looks back to you for a second before muttering a 'what'.

"i'll take you out for dinner as a thank you," you state, which makes his ears go red, "you're a sweetheart, choso."

"i... uh, yeah, i'll go out with you," he mutters, "thanks..."

the laugh you let out is worth ruining thousands of your dates.

↣ fushiguro toji

"have you ever been to france?" the conceited finance guy in front of you asks, fixing his tie. he wears this smirk on his face that proves that he just knows how rich he was. he wasn't coy at all. you force a smile and shake your head slowly, trying to enjoy your meal at least. "really? that's a shame. i've been plenty of times before, and i've gotta say, the best part is..."

you begin to zone out, sighing to yourself as you move your pasta around on your plate haphazardly. he had chosen such a nice italian restaurant to absolutely ruin your perception of this guy after the first ten minutes of talking to him. you look to your watch, showing it had been only two hours since your date started.

cursing out shiu in your head, you cautiously look out the window to the sky. it wasn't that dark yet, but it felt like your night had been taken away. your mind wanders to yesterday to your conversation with shiu.

shoe

you're getting picked up at 5 tomorrow

y/n

am or pm?

shoe

???

shoe

don't show him how stupid you are, he's a rich guy. maybe he'll bring you to a yacht

y/n

why would i want to be on a yacht for our first date? is he nice?

shoe

he's rich, y/n. that's all that matters.

sometimes, you wonder how he managed to meet all these people. but then you remember that assholes attract assholes. they move together in flocks.

you stare at your red wine and tap your finger on your cheek.

"what do you think about it?" he questions, getting your attention again. you look up to see his smug face. did he really want to know?

"oh, me?" you asks, sitting up straight. you had no idea what he had been saying for the past 15 minutes.

"well, who else would i be talking to, silly?" he says in this mocking tone.

'yourself, it's who you've been talking to all night', you internally say. you had wasted such a nice outfit too. it was such a shame.

"mmm, well, it's a bit—" you begin, only to get interrupted.

"it's insane, isn't it? how could you lose so much money in only a year?" he barks out a laugh, as obnoxious as he was. the table shakes as he bangs his fist against it, waiters and guests looking towards you two. "it's absolutely preposterous! i would never make such a decision like that."

you chew out an awkward laugh before turning to your wine, sipping it.

unknowingly to you, toji was waiting in the car outside the building, getting a good view of you and your new date. he cursed shiu in a huff; not only did he set you up with someone, but the guy was a total prick. he couldn't have done a worse job, and he was broke. he pulled his seat back, watching him with pointed eyes. that guy's mouth hadn't stopped moving ever since you entered the restaurant.

and you? you looked gorgeous, your dress hugged you just right, so much so that he was jealous. toji knows it should've been him to go and take you somewhere like this.

he snaps when the guy calls the waiter over, complaining about his half-eaten food and causing a scene. you looked so uncomfortable. standing up, you excused yourself to the bathroom. and toji is quick to get out of the car.

"he's such an asshole." toji claims as you exit the ladies room. you freeze, pressing out the creases of your dress before walking closer to him at the end of the hall.

"when did you get here?" you ask, hand on your hip, "and how do you know he's an asshole?"

"been watchin' the whole time from the car," he tells you, watching as you widen your eyes and tilt your head at him, "what? couldn't help myself. shiu said you were on a date with some rich guy, 'n i had to see it."

"yeah, well, remind me to kill shiu. he's got the worst taste in men." you sigh out, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall with him. he peers at you. "you know he asked to try every single wine they had before we ordered? and he complained about the merlot not being darker. not only that, he saw my plate and said 'are you gonna' eat all of that?'. the dickhead!"

"that shit looked good." he commented, shaking his head, "who wouldn't finish that food."

"right? ugh, i hate him so much. and he hasn't even asked me about myself other than my name. he explained to me his 'entrepreneurship' and dropshipping. wanted to clock him in the face." you complained more, only fueling toji's own hate for the man.

he lifts himself off the wall, grabbing your arm and dragging you with him. "go 'n get your things. we're gettin' out of here."

"what? what am i supposed to say to him?" you mumble, stumbling behind him, "where are we going?"

"don't say anything to him. if ya' feel bad, pay for your own food." he explains to you, hand moving to rest on your back, "i'm not lettin' you waste that pretty little dress on someone like that guy."

you stare at the back of his head before falling into step with him, stopping at the table with your date. he does a double take once he sees toji, slowly standing up.

"who's he?" he asks, scanning him up and down.

"none of your business." toji retorts, looking down at him.

you begin to grab your purse when he holds out his hand to you. "where the hell are you going?" your date asks you.

"here. for my food." you say, handing him a fifty. the note flutters onto the table in front of him, which he stares at in awe. tugging on your jacket, you stare back at him with furrowed brows. "good luck in life."

with that, you turn around and begin to walk to the exit. behind you, toji sticks his tongue out at the other man and follows after. his hand finds your back once more and you wait to cross the road, sighing out to him, "thank you, toji. saved me."

"no problem." he replies, opening the door for you.

"how did you get in my car?" you ask, sitting in the driver's seat.

"don't ask." he tosses you the keys, making you wonder even more. he gets into the other side, looking back at you. “we’ll hit up that restaurant downtown. the one you always talk about wanting to go to.”

“but you said you don’t like their cuisine.” you claim, starting the car.

“it’s the only place i know that’s fancy.” he explains, looking out the window.

“sweetheart, i wouldn’t say that’s fancy—”

“do you want to go out or not?”

you laugh, reaching out a hand and holding his. he gives a small smile before looking back at you. “thank you, toji.” you say, stopping at a red light. you glance at him, sincere look in your eyes. “it means a lot that you care.”

“jus’ saving you from being stupid as fuck.” he tells you, making you roll your eyes and snatch your hand back, “could ya’ not tell he was a tool when he didn’t knock at your door? motherfucker waited in his car.”

“my god, you’ve been watching since then? toji!” you jokingly reprimand, looking at him for a split second, "i should've known from the start though... he was on his phone the whole time, in the car ride. on bluetooth speaker too."

"i woulda' jumped out the car." he retorts, shaking his head, "we should jump shiu."

"we really should." you laugh, smiling at him, "maybe for our next date."

toji can't help but roll his eyes. he knows deep down that you were hoping shiu was going to set you up with him instead. he can see it on your face, a smile that is pushing through on your lips. you're secretly happy that it was toji who 'ruined' your 'date'.

"i say that because i know you can't pay for dinner."

"did you think i was paying for this one?"

you scoff back, elbowing him, "you leech."

"you know you love me." he says it teasingly, but he knows better than anyone that you actually do.

[varesai]

BORDER COLLIE - boothill x reader

- you, boothill, and your daughter spend a nice morning together, allthewhile you and your husband converse about a dog.

- i don't know why i made this i just thought it would be a fun little thing idk lol. i just had to add that little bit of jazz to the end bc like yk... idk anyways i'm trynna set myself on a better posting schedule and i think im starting off strong mmm enjoy

- all fluff, tiny mention of pregnancy at the very end, pre-cyborg boothill, his daughter is still alive here and everything is normal, wc 714

You were looking out the window, out at the vast amount of farmland you and your husband, Boothill, had decided to buy when he brought home the little girl you’re now able to call your daughter.

It was a nice, big place, suitable for animals of all kinds, and very family-friendly. You were currently watching your daughter play around with a baby goat that her father decided to bring out, a smile on all three of your faces. 

She seemed so happy, waddling around the goat, clapping her chubby little hands when the goat gave a soft little lick to her cheek. She had just learned how to walk, and had been able to say a few words for the past few months now. 

You walked out the back door, waving at Boothill before he waved his hand as a gesture to have you over by them. While you were walking over, you could hear your daughter shout “Goat! Goat! Cute goat!” While bobbing up and down with her legs and clapping her hands. It made you laugh a little bit before leaning into your husband's side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm up and down while supervising your daughter. 

“Dada!” She squealed, giggling. Boothill ruffled her hair before leaning down to give her a kiss on her forehead, making her giggle even more. “Dada and mama!”

You smiled wider than you thought you ever could have. You were so blessed to have Boothill as a husband, and such a special, precious girl as a daughter. 

“Well, we can’t really bring a goat in th’ house, n’ she seems to enjoy playin’ around with it a bunch…” Boothill said, standing next to you with his arms crossed. “What if we got a dog?”

“Really? A dog?” You looked up at him, and he nodded. “We have horses, goats, sheep, cows, and probably some reptiles living in the bushes. Do we really need more?”

He hummed. “The thing is, dogs can be domestic, hun. I got lucky this lil’ goat is so docile, good enough for her to be able to hang ‘round it without me having to worry ‘bout it taking her face off.”

“True. But we’d need a dog that can handle farmlife, not just any old dog. A boujee dog would not do very well in this type of setting. Keep that in mind.” 

He laughed before shaking his head. “Nah. I was thinkin’ more like a Border Collie or somethin’. I’d rather have one that's gonna make use of all this land.”

Your daughter came up to the both of you, lightly slapping at your legs to get your attention. You picked her up, giving Boothill a signal to go put the goat back in its respective area before meeting the two of you back inside.

A few moments later, when Boothill arrived back inside, you had lunch started, greeting him before he washed his hands and helping your daughter wash hers, too. He explained to her that she’s always to wash her hands before and after touching an ‘outside animal’ (as he calls it, so her itty bitty brain can comprehend it) otherwise she could get sick. He does the same, too. 

You set the table for lunch, putting some leftover salad and chicken on you and Boothills plates from last night. You gave your daughter some chicken too, but cut into very small squares, and strawberries instead of salad. 

The three of you sat down to eat, occasionally conversing about random things. She was too busy picking at her strawberries to notice your conversation, but you both still kept a close eye on her. 

“About the dog idea, are you sure?” You asked, your voice laced with some uncertainty. ‘I feel like we already have so much on our plate. Are you really willing to walk it every morning?”

“Well, o’course I am. I know what havin’ a dog is like, my dads always had one. I grew up around ‘em.” He takes another forkful of salad before going on. “But why’re ya so concerned? What else is stoppin’ ya from sayin’ yes?”

You smiled before laughing to yourself, leaving him temporarily confused. 

“Well, I want to hold off on the dog, because…

…I’m pregnant.”

[flowery-mess]

Just another dad Noah thought...

I have two ideas of this in my head...

1) Noah is away on tour and you and your toddler take lots of videos of things you do together to send him. Like you just put your phone somewhere, then forget it's even there and Noah then can watch what he's missing when he's away. So one day you sit your toddler down, put the phone on record and do 'interview about my daddy' where you ask toddlers things like 'how old is daddy? what's daddy's job?' and this is how it goes:

"What's daddy's name?"

"Noaaaaah." he yells, just like you do when Noah is in other room and you call out for him.

"How old is he?"

"Mhmm, 3."

"Oh okay. What's his job?"

"Screaming at people." your toddler says with a proud grin on his face and you try to hold your laugh, because he's kind of right.

"What's his favorite food?"

"Vegetable salad." you can't really remember the last time Noah would ate vegetable salad, but okey.

"What daddy's favorite thing to do with us?"

"Watch a movie and then fall asleep on the couch."

And this would go on for a few more questions and as a respond from Noah you'd get picture of his face with little sad pout and tears in his eyes, saying he misses you and can't wait to be home.

2) Sometimes kids do this at school, so your toddler would come home with two papers, one for you and one for Noah. When you read it for the first you try really hard to not laugh and make your baby sad. But later when the baby is asleep and Noah has some free time for a call, you pour yourself a glass of wine and put Noah on facetime as you read him the cards.

"What's mummy's name? And the answer is 'my love'" and you both make heart eyes at each other, knowing he got that answer from how Noah calls you.

"What's mummy's job?" and the answer would be 'cutting into peoples heads, and you'd be a hairdresser or 'she's selling people drugs' and you'd be a pharmacist.

"How tall is daddy?" and you could not get the answer out of you because you'd be laughing too much "Noah, the answer is 3 feet."

"What's daddy's favorite thing to do with me?" and the answer is 'buying me toys'"

"Oh, guilty." Would be Noah's answer.

"I told you you're spoiling him."

"But he's always so happy and then he's cute, you have to admit that love."

"What does mummy and daddy do after I go to sleep?"

"He doesn't know what we like to do when he's asleep, should I be scared for that answer?" Noah said over the phone.

"They clean after me and drink alcohol."

"Oh god we look like alcoholics."

"Well, I'm literally drinking wine now."

After that you'd fell into comfortable silence and just look at each other through the screen.

"I miss you, just one more week and I'm home with you." Noah said with sad smile on his face.

"Oh I can't wait to have my 3 feet tall husband back so we can drink alcohol together!"

[avastrasposts]

Javi steals your lunch

@sin-djarin made a fun little poll about what Pedro boy would be most likely to steal your lunch. I reblogged it with a thought about Javi P stealing the lunch and it turned into a whole fic idea so here's 800 words about Javi stealing your lunch and paying for it.

“I can’t fucking believe it….” you muttered under your breath, scanning the shelves in the break room fridge. Your carefully prepared salad, grilled chicken, avocado, fresh tomatoes and quesito colombiano your sweet next door neighbor had given you, was gone. 

Vanished. 

The spot in the fridge where you’d placed the tupperware this morning as you came into the office was empty. As were the other shelves, only a few leftover beers from an office party and some milk for the coffee. 

“Anna, have you seen my salad? Or seen anyone eating a salad?” 

Your co-worker had come in behind you, holding her own sandwich, and you sighed again as she peered into the fridge. 

“No, did someone take it? I swear this fridge is never safe to leave food in, someone always steals it,” she said, shaking her head. 

“We work at the damn US Embassy, you’d think people would be honest enough to not steal a salad,” you grumbled, slamming the fridge door shut, “I’m going out to grab something for lunch, I’ll see you later.” 

One sad lunch hour later, you came back to your desk still in a foul mood. It wasn’t lifted by the fact that you had a mountain of work to go through as a result of a successful raid the day before. Always endless red tape and transcribing to do when the DEA team caught up with one of Pablo Escobar’s sicarios. You dreaded the day they actually caught Escobar, you’d be drowning in paperwork.

The afternoon dragged along and at five you stretched your back and headed for the coffee machine, you had just turned the corner when you saw it. 

Your tupperware. 

On Javier fucking Peña’s fucking desk… 

You felt your temper rise as you stalked over to it and snatched it off the desk. The man himself was nowhere in sight, but he’d clearly been enjoying your salad, a fork sat on top and a few sad lettuce leaves remained. 

“Fucking asshole!” you snarled to the nearly empty office, but no one paid any attention to your mutterings. With a firm grip on the tupperware, you went back to the break room and washed the box out, still fuming as you tossed the dish cloth on the counter. 

“Cariño, why the frown?”

You spun on your heel and glared at the man casually leaning against the door frame with a crooked smile, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers. 

“You!” you snapped, waving the empty, and now clean, tupperware at him, “You stole my lunch, asshole!” 

He did have the decency to look a little bit ashamed, those stupid baby cow eyes widening as the smile slipped from his lips. 

“Cariño…that was yours? I thought it was leftovers and I was so damn hungry…” 

“It was my leftovers, Peña! My leftovers!” 

You shoved passed him, attempting to push him aside as you squeezed through half the door frame, the other half blocked by him, but you were just met with a solid shoulder under his black leather jacket.  

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I got back from this thing and I was getting milk for the coffee and it just looked so good.” 

He was following you down the hallway now, reached out and took hold of your arm, gently forcing you to stop just outside the evidence room. 

“Hermosa….” he cooed, letting his hand slip down your arm so that he could take yours and put it against his chest in a pleading gesture,   “Don’t be mad at me, I’m really sorry, and the salad was delicious. I had no idea you were such a good cook.” 

He had you backed up against the wall, standing close enough so that you could smell the cigarettes and coffee on his breath, warm aftershave and the faint smell of sweat after a long day. It was impossible to not look up into his warm, brown eyes, eyebrows pulled together as he pleaded with you to forgive him. 

“It’s a salad, not exactly difficult,” you replied, fighting to keep the scowl on your face as the corner of his lips pulled up into a smile, his hand closing a little bit tighter around yours. He knew he'd won you over as he tilted his head to the side and let his gaze drop down to your lips. 

“Still, I should make it up to you somehow…” he said, and you’re not sure how he did it, but somehow he’d opened the door to the evidence room and pulled you inside, his arm slipping down to curl around your waist as he shut you both in with the other. 

“Peña…” you said, trying to collect your thoughts, but it came out breathless as your anger at him melted away with every slow caress of his large hand over your back. 

“Javi,” he mumbled, leaning down close to your neck and placing a feather light kiss just under your ear, “it’s Javi while I fuck you.” 

[storiesaplenty]

Part 6

The Pitt Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though.

Warnings: a bit of swearing. Unplanned pregnancy. Shooting, but no injuries

WC: 1098

©️ storiesaplenty 2025: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work. All readers are female, unless stated otherwise.

A few months ago, Dr Whitaker had a one night stand, not knowing she was the daughter of Dr Robby.

She and I moved in together slowly over two months, with me working, and I refused for her to lift anything, it took a bit longer than I thought.

I moved into what she calls her 'storage room' in her home, that I spent a weekend cleaning out, while the two of us decided on the nursery.

Her and I both agreed on animal theme, and will be keeping it as simple as possible.

We have it all figured out so far with our lives, but the thing is though, that I can not help but fall in love with her.

I come home after a 15 hour shift, and there she is, heating up the food she made me, even though I insisted she did not have to make me anything.

"Dennis, I insist. You work hard." The first bite of her steak and salad had me groaning at how good it was.

She was an excellent cook, almost reminding me of my mom's cooking, but slightly better as she likes to use different spices and seasonings.

Just the thought of my mom had my heart clenching, as we have not talked since I told them that we are not getting married.

I have thought about picking up the phone again to call them, but I just put it down, not wanting to argue with them about this.

"Dennis, I was thinking about going to The Waterfront to do a bit of shopping. Do you need anything while I am there?"

I thought about it.

"Maybe some more scrubs." I felt my face blush as she giggled softly at me, as she is most likely remembering the story I told her of my first day at the Pitt.

"I'll make sure to get black ones for you. I'll go where my Dad goes for himself."

"Have any clients today?" I asked her as I backed my bag for my shift.

"Just one but I am pretty sure she will cancel," and just as we were leaving the townhouse together, her phone went off. She looked at the screen, and turned it around to show me the message.

"At least you have a bit of time to do a bit more shopping today." I told her, as I thought about her actually having a day to relax.

She is a wedding coordinator, and it just past the wedding season, so she isn't as busy, but still super busy.

There have been plenty of days when I have come home, where she is sitting at the dining room table, going over what each client wants for their weddings, and trying to make it happen.

"I shouldn't be more than a few hours. Takes a bit more to get around with these two." She placed her hand on her pregnant stomach. I placed my hand over hers, and squeezed.

"Text me when you get home. I will bring home food today as it is Friday. Just let me know what you want. I will go anywhere."

◇

It was three hours into my shift when Dr Robby gathered us all up again, just like he did during my first shift, to inform us that there had been another shooting, but this time at a mall.

"This was a coordinated attack as there was more than one shooter. They are sending each victim to any hospital in the area."

Bins started to roll in, as Dr Robby explained what each slap-band means, where each person goes, etc.

"What mall?" Kim asked as she raised her hand.

"The Waterfront." Dr Robby said, watching over the group, as more and more hospital staff were called in to help.

I swore under my breath, and pulled out my phone, Dr Robby noticing every move I made.

"Let's get going. They should be rolling in soon." He called out as he walked toward me.

"Dr Whitaker, what seems to be the issue?"

I said her name. I watched as his face instantly paled.

"She could be home by now. She said she was only going to do a bit of shopping and then go back home."

"Has she texted you at all?" I shook my head no.

"We have to put her to the back of our minds for now and focus on the people coming in. I will call other hospitals to put them on high alert to keep an eye out for her. They know my daughter."

"Yes sir." I turned to go outside, but he stopped me by saying my name.

"Dennis." I turned to look at him.

"She will be okay." I could tell by the crack in his voice that he was just now barely hanging on at the thought of his daughter being shot.

◇

He made the call to a few hospitals, informing them to keep an eye out on his daughter.

Then it has been non-stop.

Person after person coming in, a few already gone by the time they got to us, but many people are now in recovery.

I took a small moment to myself, pulling out my phone, to see that she just got home an hour ago, and decided to go to a different mall.

I called Dr Robby's name as I tried to find him.

"Dr Whitaker?" He was coming out of a room.

"She is home. She went to a different mall." I could barely keep the emotion out of my own voice as I told him.

"She is safe. The babies are safe, but our girl is safe. I'll call the hospitals to let them know that they do not have to keep an eye out for any longer."

◇

That night, when I got home, I stood outside the door, trying to calm all my emotions, but she opened the door, and she looked very concerned.

"Dennis," I didn't hear what she said as her voice faded.

I just thought about how I could have lost her today, without telling her how I truly feel.

I pulled her into my arms, and kissed her gently. I waited for her to slap me, push me away, anything, but she didn't do any of that.

She wrapped her arms around my neck as she deepened the kiss.

Both of us poured our feelings into this one simple kiss.

I pulled away, looking into her eyes as I cupped her cheek with one hand.

"I thought I lost you today, and I couldn't imagine my life without you in it now. I can't keep lying to myself anymore about how I feel. I love you."

Part 5 ♡ Part 7

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

Pool Day | for @steddiemicrofic's April prompt

pairing: steddie (duh) | word count: 1,987 | rated: T | on AO3

“Thanks for having us, Steve Dear,” Mrs. Henderson greets, stepping through the front door after Dustin barrels in and handing him a huge covered bowl of potato salad.

Steve grins at her, taking the dish, “It’s no trouble at all Ms. H; thanks for bringing this, you know it’s my favorite.”

“Of course, hon!”

“Claudia!” Joyce calls from the living room, “Come help me settle this.”

“There’s nothing to settle!” Hop argues in return.

Steve snorts out a laugh, “Good luck, Ms. H.”

Claudia sighs, shakes her head, and heads into the fray.

Steve goes the opposite way, dropping the bowl off in the fridge with the other lunch cookout ingredients Wayne and Hopper will be starting in on in only a couple hours now, grabs a bottle of water for Robin, and follows Dustin’s route back outside to the patio.

It’s a clear, warm, sunny day in the late summer of ‘86. The whole ‘other dimension survivors’ party is in attendance at Steve’s place for the day; Hop, Joyce, Karen, Claudia now, and even Wayne are staying inside in the A/C, the kids are in the pool, and all but the one of the ‘older kids’ are lounging around on the Harringtons’ sun chairs.

Argyle in particular is soaking up the UV rays.

Jon is burning to a crisp under his and Nancy’s umbrella.

It’s Eddie, however, that’s been in the pool practically all morning, and is currently hyping himself up to do… something.. off Steve’s creaky, probably dry-rotted, diving board.

He does look good up there; drenched head to toe with his hair pushed back from his face like that. If he wasn’t covered in pool water, Steve would want to lick him.

…okay, he probably still would.

Robin elbows him as if she can read the thoughts straight from his brain.

”Shut up.” he grumbles out the corner of his mouth, sitting on his previously vacated chair beside her and passing over the water.

She just snorts at him in return, taking the bottle from him and going back to her book..

”Eddie, dude, it can’t be done.” Mike groans, “If I can’t do it, you can’t do it.”

”He’s got an 82 percent chance of landing flat on his stomach.” Erica states.

“It’s gotta be higher than that.” Max says, “I’d give it 93 percent.”

“Never.. tell me the odds.” Eddie declares from atop his perch. The board creaks when he shifts his weight.

His eyes keep darting from the end of the diving board to the clear, blue water beyond it, and back again.

Steve calls across the backyard, “What’s it he’s trying to do?”

“He says he can do two whole flips before he hits the water.” El says, piping up from where she is laying on a towel on the far side of the patio next to Max.

Steve grimaces, “Does he now?”

”…He’s gonna die.” Dustin says. “Again.”

Lucas is the one to go to bat for their DM, ”Give him a chance, dude, he says he’s done this before.”

“See, you say that, but we all know how uncoordinated he is. Can you bellyflop to death? ‘Cause that’s how he’s ‘bout to go.”

“Don’t fuck this up, Eds, I’m not CPR certified anymore.” Steve calls from his spot beside Robin who leans in immediately to whisper, “What are you doing? If he dies you can give him mouth-to-mouth!”

Steve blinks once at her, turning back to Eddie who’s still hyping himself up for his promised double-flip. “Never mind, I remembered it!”

Eddie breaks from his focus on the board in front of him to give Steve an exasperated, questioning look. Steve winks in return, making the sunburn on Eddie’s skin burn brighter.

He’ll get the hint(s, there’s been multiple) eventually… hopefully.

The advice starts coming from all sides; “C’mon, man just do it already!”

“Yeah, Are ya gonna go or what?”

“Let him work up to it!”

“You work up to it.”

“That’s it, you’re going down, Wheeler.”

“You’re never gonna go are you?” Max yells, ignoring the scuffle starting up between Will and Mike

“Do a run-up!” Dustin suggests, and Steve stops that one in its tracks.

“No! No running around the pool!”,

Nancy chimes in, not looking up from her magazine. “Just don’t die, Eddie.”

”And what, desert all you losers? What’d you even do without me?”

“He’s got a point,” Erica concedes, deadpan, “Who would we watch hurt themselves if you weren’t around.”

“Alright, alright, alright, shut up, I’m going.” Eddie says, waving his arms around, “In three…two…one!”

And he does. He goes for it, bounding off the end of the board, completing exactly one and a half turns, and landing stomach-first onto the surface of the water.

Sympathetic hisses of pain and grimacing ‘Oohs’ erupt around the pool as Eddie sinks into the water.

To his credit though, he manages to stand on his own soon afterwards.

Steve calls out to him, “You okay, Eds?”

“I think I’m gonna need that mouth-to-mouth, big guy.” Eddie groans, then flops face-first back into the water dramatically, much to the amusement of the gathered peanut gallery.

“What a doofus, why do I have a crush on him again?” Steve asks Robin in a low voice as he stands from his chair.

Robin sets her book down on her lap, counting out on her fingers without looking up at him: “Big hair, big eyes, big smile, bigger heart.”

“Ah, yep, that’ll do it.” he nods, then drops down off the edge of the pool into the water. “Alright, dumbass, that’s enough pool for you.”

He wades over to Eddie, still floating face-down on the surface of the water, and scoops him up in a bridal carry.

“Blegh…” He feigns death, letting his tongue loll out the side of his mouth. The backs of Eddie’s arms and the very ends of his hair trail along the rippling surface of the water when he lets his head and arms flop backward, bonelessly out of Steve’s hold.

Steve rolls his eyes and drops his arms just enough to submerge him again. His yelp of surprise is muffled when he goes under, much to the delight of the rest of the party.

But Steve gets his arms under him again quickly; Eddie scrambles for a hold around his neck while continuing to splutter, spitting out a mouthful of pool water and pushing the hair off his face to reveal his now-red face.

Steve smirks cheekily down at Eddie’s murderous glare, wrapping his arms tighter around the other man. He walks through the shallows back to the pool steps with Eddie still in his arms (“You bringing me to a chair, Stevie?”), climbs up the first one, then stops.

He looks down at a now confused Eddie (“What? What’s wrong?” he asks, looking around for something what it was that made Steve stop.), smirks mischievously, then, before he can parse out what’s about to happen, Steve twists around and tosses Eddie back into the water.

His flailing limbs just barely miss Mike’s head (Oops, sorry Mike,), the resulting splash hitting at least four of the five gremlins still in the water.

Grinning widely at the others’ laughs, Steve hurries up the stairs and around to the side of the pool closest to where Eddie fell, looking down at him over the edge as he re-emerges from the water, spluttering and coughing, and flips his bangs haphazardly up off his forehead.

“What happened, Eds? One minute you were safe in my arms, and the next, you were back in the water! It’s the strangest thing.” Steve can’t hold back his grin any more than he could his sarcasm, reveling in the murderous glare Eddie is giving him.

Eddie continues to glare, the other kids snickering off to start what sounded like a game of chicken.

“What’s wrong, Teddy, d’ya not like being thrown aroun–” Steve’s awareness of his surroundings kick in a fraction too late; the kids parting out of the way, the smirk that appears on Eddie’s lips a moment before disaster, the somehow still-cold hands that splay and push against the warm skin of his back, sending him toppling over the edge and into the water himself.

Resurfacing to resounding, howling laughter from all sides, Steve similarly flips his hair back and glares at his new nemesis, Robin, standing above him all smug.

“I… hate you.” he tells her, with no real heat behind it.

“Love you too dingus,” she waves and turns back to her chair.

“So whattya say pot, gonna join this kettle in solidarity against the hoard?”

As if he could ever say no to those eyes.

“Sure Eds, hop up.”

And of course, Eddie makes a big deal about it, “What?! Who says I can’t carry you on my shoulders, big boy?”

Steve shrugs, “Okay, squat down and I’ll climb up.”

To his credit, he actually does, letting Steve get situated (and panic silently about where Eddie's head is… 'Ridiculous.' he tells himself.) and standing up, his arms locked around Steve’s shins.

Steve holds his arms out to help keep his balance on Eddie’s shoulders, “Holy shit man, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

Eddie grits out a low “I don’t..” then pitches backwards, sending them both under the water.

Opening his eyes to the burning chlorine, Steve watches the blurry shapes of Eddie’s legs get their bearings on the pool floor once again.

As soon as his feet are settled on the floor, Steve swims forward and around Eddie’s now-kicking legs, the gangly appendages trying futilely to keep him away.

He’s almost out of breath so he clamps a hand on one of Eddie’s knees, using it as an anchor to get behind him and puts his head between the other man’s legs, sitting the backs of Eddie’s thighs squarely down on his shoulders.

He stands, his hair plastered flat to his forehead by the water, and by Eddie’s hands where they hold onto him for dear life.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Eddie says when Steve attempts to shake the hairs off his face, pushing the offending hairs out of his eyes and back up onto the top of head.

Steve tilts his head back as far as he can, looking up at the man on his shoulders.

Eddie’s head blocks out the sun, and it gives him a halo made of sunlight. “Thanks sweetheart.” Steve says, only to Eddie, then faces down the rest of the shitheads. “Alright shitheads, who’s up first?”

Steve and Eddie play against each of the others, some pairs taking longer, some only taking a single shove to get Eddie to topple down into the water.

And each time Steve scoops him back up, Eddie pushes the hairs off his face, scooches his bony butt around to get situated (seriously, how does he sit for any length of time on that thing?!), and gives Steve’s cheek a pat of encouragement before they face off against another round of kids.

Jon and Argyle go up against them once, and it’s the longest round of the afternoon.

Eventually though, about halfway through their chicken tournament, the ‘real’ adults file outside to the Harringtons’ patio table and start up the grill.

By time Jon finally dislodges Eddie from Steve’s shoulders, it’s time to eat.

Eddie’s the last one out of the water, and Steve savors every moment it takes him to trudge up the pool steps, winded, probably aching, but smiling wide, as gorgeous as ever.

“C’mon Stevie,” he huffs, “Let’s get some grub. I’m starving after beating all these twerps.”

“They kicked our asses, Eds.”

“Yeah, but it was fun though, right?” Eddie grins, walking ahead of him to grab, still soaking wet, a handful of (now also soaking wet) hamburger bun.

Steve smiles to himself, watching Dustin and Lucas gang up on him for adding chlorine to their food. “Yeah it was.”

i had to do the fake one too!!

[macfrog]

little aphrodite sex on fire chapter nine

the amount i had to write jean-marc in this chapter makes me nauseous. anywho. these two heal my soul and make me weep. please enjoy a little look back at the ceo's experience of paris.

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: we're going back to paris. this time, through joel's eyes.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalance of power dynamic, alcohol consumption, ostentatious flaunting of wealth (eat the rich i say), sugardaddy!joel, softdom!joel, oral (f and m receiving), daddy kink, praise kink, cursing, angst & pining, and...well. the ceo falls in love.

word count: 7.5k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💚

He wasn’t even sure you’d say yes when he asked. Thought you’d find it a bit much, flying halfway across the world just for one lousy meeting. He had what he’d say when you turned him down in mind, already: Sure, yeah, no problem. No, I just thought – Yeah. ‘s alright. I’ll bring you back som’ as a souvenir.

But you didn’t.

Oh, yeah? you’d said. Your face seemed to light – humored, impressed even. It made Joel feel braver. Reassured. You’ve a habit of doing that to him.

Mhm, he replied, chewing on the sub you’d ordered him after his conference call. He can’t remember what he promised Human Resources he’d have done within the hour. You walked in as he was saying it, and – well. Two days, he said, swallowing, Saturday Sunday.

And are you gonna make me take minutes while you meet with this Jean-Marc? You wiggled your fingers as you said it, letting the name drip through your lips in some kind of dreamy song. I don’t make the flight back unless they’re typed up by the time we leave? That the catch?

No catch. You don’t even gotta come to the meetin’.

I don’t have to –? Wow, Miller. You’re spoiling me, no? You kicked your leg, one knee hooked over the other. Your skirt shrinking up your thigh.

You were sat in the chair on the right, opposite his desk. You always sit in that one – and Joel’s still trying to figure out why. The working theory so far is that it’s at a good angle to watch the city below, and at the same time, see exactly who comes and goes in and out of the office during lunch.

But there has to be more to it, he thinks. He suspects. Martha’s desk is, like, five feet from yours. She spends her lunches in the conference room with Deb, shaking salads doused in balsamic vinegar and sharing cross-floor gossip. They invite you every day, and almost every day, you turn them down in favor of his shuttered office, the muted swish of cars on the street, the mock gasps and clutch of invisible pearls when you share that same fifth-floor gossip with him over the desk.

You’d been talking while he’d been thinking about the damn chair. He hadn’t heard a word of it. Huh? he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

Ain’t never listenin’, you muttered, peeling the damp paper back from your own sub.

Say it again, Joel said. Was just making a mental note to book dinner for us over there.

You scoffed, licking mayo from the corner of your lips. Why you making mental notes for anything? That’s what you pay me for.

And you were right – it is what he pays you for. Pays you to be his shadow, his right-hand man, his eyes and his ears and his entire brain, some days.

But lately – he doesn’t know. It’s different.

Truth be told, he has no idea what’s gotten into him. Looking at you the way he is. You’ve fucked around twice, now, and both times have been…nothing short of fucking amazing. Both times, Joel’s thought he might come within the first two minutes. Pushing inside your velvet walls, watching the way you roll forward, hearing the lewd moans pour across your lips.

He’s always thought you were attractive. It’s pretty fucking hard to ignore. Physically, sure – the look of your body, the way you know how to dress it. And the prettiest, softest face he’s ever seen. You can win him over in any discussion without a word, just by fluttering your eyelashes at him.

But you’re more than that. He thinks of you both as friends, maybe something more. Something deeper. It’s in the glances you steal, the silent lines tossed between one another. The way you read one another like an open book. Sometimes, he wonders if you actually can read his mind.

You’re intelligent, you’re funny, and you’re a hard fucking worker. Always on time, always seemingly juggling thirty things at once, and never letting him down. Nothing is too much, it seems; everything just is as it is. And he likes that about you. Simple. No baggage.

The morning of the flight, you send him a voice note telling him you’re downstairs. “And I ain’t lugging two cases up to the top floor only to bring ‘em back down when we’re leaving, Mr. CEO.”

He’s striding past Martha for the elevator before he’s even done listening to the message.

“Uh-uh!” she chirps, dashing over to slip between the brass doors behind him.

Joel sighs under his breath.

“I know better than to rely on you to remember all this stuff,” she says, holding up a file he’d asked her to put together for the trip.

She’s right not to – he’d probably leave that file in the car, or put it down somewhere and walk off without it. You’re the only one who can be trusted with it – with anything. You’re good at your job. And yet, he resents the fact that Martha’s about to lump you with even a fraction of responsibility for the next four days.

So when the Rolls pulls off and Martha is nothing but a pin-sized silhouette through the back window, still waving from the sidewalk, he pinches the folder in two fingers and tosses it to his left hip. Out of your grasp. You smile, eyes rolling, and pop your earbuds in. Joel breathes a laugh, eyes dipping again to skim read some contract on his phone. His hand is locked around your thigh. He likes that you just let him do it now.

Likes a lot of things about you. Likes that you put your music on shuffle, and then skip eleven tracks until you find one you actually want to listen to. Likes that your fingers twirl around the light chain of your necklace – the way they do anytime you’re nervous – and when he asks if you’re alright, you bareface lie to him and squeak, Yep.

Likes the glow the morning sun casts on you when you emerge from the car on the tarmac, pooling in the dimples on your cheeks, bright gold. The way you tug on the loose cotton of your sweatpants, bashful. Shy. And he likes that, when he follows you up the steps to the plane cabin, your awestruck expression lasts all of five seconds before that quick wit kicks straight back in.

“Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution,” you tell him, and Joel silently says his fifth thankful prayer this morning that he thought to ask you and not Martha.

He watches you settle into a seat by the window, watches you crane your neck to survey the view from the tiny circle of thick glass. He thinks about what he’d do if you were alone right now, if there weren’t crew slowly filing into the jet behind him.

He floats the idea. Tells you about the bedroom up back, tells you it’s cozy. You read between the lines just like he wants you to. And when the plane’s in the air, you follow after him.

You fall into bed together the same way you do when you arrive at the hotel. A tangle of limbs, of sweat and stuffy plane air. He sleeps the soundest he has in months – years, maybe. Pushed off by the sound of your breathing, the dip in the mattress by his side. The warmth which radiates from your body, the soft brush of your hand against his.

He puts it down to the travelling – the eight-hour flight, the plushy super king waiting on the other side. He puts it down to the way the world feels different, this side of the Atlantic. The privacy he feels come over the two of you, like sneaking into the next room: your voices muffled through the wall, your movements reduced to vague shadows beneath the door.

He watches you through sleepy eyes as you prance around the suite in the morning, twirling in and out of the bathroom while you get ready for the day. He wonders if this is what you’re like every day – if you spend your Monday mornings beaming like a little kid, toothbrush hanging lopsided from the corner of your mouth, white bubbles lining your gums. He wonders why he’s wondering. Why a part of him wants to see that version of you, too.

This version – now following his lead down Avenue Montaigne, doe-eyed and wonderstruck – is over all too soon. He’s dragged from her, from you, before he’s ready to leave.

His phone vibrates in his pocket right as he’s leading you out of some ridiculously overpriced jewelers – an irritating reminder of his meeting in an hour’s time.

“Fuck,” he whispers, holding you steady as you spin around to glimpse at the baroque building. “Hey, pretty girl,” he squeezes your hand, “I got some bad news.”

Your bottom lip pouts, eyes gleaming. It’s enough, he thinks, to convince him to stick around. If you asked him to, he’d text Jean-Marc right now and tell him to fuck off. But you tell him to go, tell him you’ll meet him back at the hotel once he’s done and you’re tired. With a teasing smirk and a tiny wave, you see him off down the cobbled street. He watches from the back window as you set off again, heading towards another iron-gated store.

Denis pulls up alongside the towering hotel, totters around the car to meet Joel as he stretches out of the Maybach. The square-jawed man stands with his hands linked, and nods enthusiastically when Joel thanks him.

“The shopping – I will take it back to the hotel,” he assures his boss, a wide smile on his lips.

He’s a good guy, Denis. He’s chauffeured Joel to five of these meetings over as many years – he knows the drill by now. Knows it’ll be a couple hours and a few whiskeys before he gets another call to pick him up.

His nodding doubles, more obedient when Joel asks him to make sure he listens for your call. “You mind stayin’ nearby that part of town?” he asks. “Just so – when she’s done, y’know…”

“Not at all,” Denis says, flapping two palms to the ground. Swatting away Joel’s concern, his worrying, his missing you.

He replies, a little absentmindedly, passing by the head of gray hair with a distant smile. “Thanks, Denis. See you later.”

Five meetings, five trips over here to be pestered by some obnoxious little man in an obnoxious little robe and obnoxious little loafers, and still, Joel never knows what to expect. He strides beneath the golden archway entrance into a domed lobby, every surface spotless and shining; marble counter in the center with a symmetrically-suited clerk sat behind.

She stands and smiles politely to Joel as he approaches, recognizing him with a flutter of her eyelashes. He feels the absence of your arm on his, an ache at his elbow.

“Monsieur,” she croons, pale fingers reaching for the telephone. She whispers something softly into the receiver and then nods, folding her painted lips together as she places the handset back into its cradle. With a floating hand aimed at the elevator behind her, she says, sultry and dreamlike, “He is ready for you.”

Joel fights an eyeroll with every fiber of his being. He wanders round the circular desk, bunches his shoulders into the tight elevator, and jams his thumb into the button marked P.

The doors shudder open when he reaches the top floor. He steps out slowly, waiting for the Frenchman to pounce on him like some kind of wild cat. Wouldn’t put it past him, Joel thinks. As he’s scanning the room, counting the six bouquets dotted around, there’s a single clap from behind the veiled curtains. A silhouette out on the terrace.

Jean-Marc swings between the sheer white, calling out to the lonely figure in his entryway. “If it isn’t my favorite American,” he sings, taking Joel by the arms and squeezing roughly. “How lovely to see you again, Joelie. Please, come.”

The sunlight blinds Joel when he steps out into it, peering over the city skyline under low brows. Jean-Marc is already sat at the top of a thin, glass table, pouring golden whiskey into a square glass and scooping two bulky ice cubes in. The nectar swirls around when the glass is held out to Joel, the ice tittering as he accepts it.

The table, a rocky terrain of pain au chocolat and brioche, pools of citrus spreads and dishes of butter. Joel keeps his hands to himself as Jean-Marc slaps jam onto a croissant, bronze flakes fluttering all over the table as he attempts to regale Joel with some investment into a casino.

“Riccardo says it is too much; I told him to go to hell. We will double the cost of the place, I know it, Joel. We have the eye for things like these, men like you and I, hm?”

Men like you and I, Joel thinks, lips tilting. He balances the glass on his thigh, watches the ice cubes turn over themselves. He thinks of you, thinks of the man you see him as. Thinks how tall he stands against the man Jean-Marc must see sat opposite him right now.

Thinks how rotten, and ugly, and how small the latter is. How easily you and your words could crumble him. All show, all sitting on perfect terraces with pretentious dickbags disguised as friends, drinking pissy whiskey with a plastered smile on his lips.

How comical it all is – the sound of yapping across the tabletop, These idiots would pay millions for manure if you painted it golden, the sprawling sheets of green-leafed plants, the headache-inducing flowers, the buckled loafers and the signet ring catching the sun.

How much he misses the weight of you on his hips, forearms flat on his chest, ear against his heart. The sound of your laughter lilting in his ear. The rosy smell of your skin and the feel of your eyelashes, featherlight on his cheek. He feels the distance between the two of you like elastic strung apart, stretching thinner and thinner, weaker and frailer, ready to snap into two halves at any moment.

“Anyways,” Jean-Marc says, lifting the wine bottle shakily. It clinks brashly against the lip of his glass, a painful scrape. Joel wonders if he’s already halfway to hammered. “Tell me how you’ve been, Joelie.”

Joel tells him he’s been fine. Business is fine. Money is fine. Company’s doing fine. Everything’s fucking fine. Easiest answer to avoid further questioning, to satiate Jean-Marc’s constant thirst for news, or intel, or just plain gossip.

He slips up, though. Makes the one colossal mistake he spent all morning hoping and praying and drilling directly into his brain that he wouldn’t.

Jean-Marc asks how his flight was, sticking the damp end of a cigarette to his bottom lip.

Joel says, “Good, yeah. We got here, maybe, ten o’clock last night.”

And Jean-Marc’s eyebrows arch. His hands freeze, match held against the striker strip. “We?” he asks, white stick flapping between his teeth.

“Uh,” Joel shifts in his seat. Your gentle wave, the corners of your lips, the toss of hair over your shoulder. It’s as though Jean-Marc can see his thoughts played on a reel before him, the haste with which Joel attempts to wipe you from his own mind. “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “Jerry ‘n Lisa. Len and Pol.”

The Frenchman’s eyes narrow, a grin pulling on his pink lips. “We,” he says again, whipping the match roughly against the strip. Speaking into cupped hands, a cloud of white billowing from his leathery fingers, he murmurs, “Joel brought company with him to Paris, yes? Who is the lucky tourist? Une petite amie?”

Joel’s tongue dabs at the sickly wash of whiskey on his lips. He thinks to grab the fucker by the throat, throttle him until the idea of you rattles from his skull, spilling back into Joel’s safe hands where you belong.

He almost fucking lies. Almost says it’s just Martha, or Drew, or his fucking mother. But Jean-Marc is like a rat, scurrying along after a source of water. He’ll find it in the end. They always do.

He breathes your name, reluctant to let it go. Jean-Marc cocks his head, leans in, a swirling snake of silky smoke lifting from the cigarette between his fingers. Joel repeats it, voice louder, but flatter. Breaks it into too many syllables. Lets his host hear every bite of annoyance.

“She’s my assistant,” he says, and Jean-Marc claps again.

“Your assistant! How wonderful. And where is she today? She is not…” his fingers circle the air, disturbing the trail of smoke, “…assisting you?”

“Gave her the afternoon off.” Joel lifts his glass to his lips. The geometric shape amplifies his voice, bass like the growl of a bear. “Busy couple days. She deserves some downtime.”

He hates the sound of your name as it peels from Jean-Marc’s tongue. Like a hangnail, the residue a gorge of bloody, torn skin. Your name is Joel’s favorite sound, he realizes now, and the way this little asshole keeps butchering it boils an anger so hot and so quick under his skin that he’s not sure he can hold it at bay.

It’s not as if he owns you or your name – far from it. He has no desire to be anything more than a placeholder: somewhere for you to slot your hand, rest your head, curl your body against. Still, he feels a direct protectiveness over you right now. An impulse to stand in front of Jean-Marc’s tiny figure, arms wide, stopping him from picturing you or learning about you or meeting you.

Which is, of course, exactly what the little fucker suggests.

A wet pff sound as he rids his mouth of bitter smoke, and he offers to host breakfast in the morning.

“No, no, we, uh –” Joel’s hands are up, like pleading with the man, whiskey kissing the lip of its glass, “– you don’t have to – Look, Jean-Marc, I’m sure you’re busy enough with all –”

“Nonsense!” Jean-Marc waves a hand. Ash sprinkles down the cuff of his robe. “It would be my pleasure. Shall we say, ten?”

Joel grumbles, eye following the flight of a bird in the distance. What are you doing right now? Are you back in the suite, trying on the outfit you picked out together? Are you still wandering down the streets, drinking up the lavish city like a perfect little cocktail of bliss and wonder?

And what the fuck does he have to do to excuse himself, to come find you, to wrap his arms around you and never let you leave his side again?

He feels idiotic. Juvenile. Like a stupid little teenager, pining for his junior year girlfriend. The feelings all sharp and brittle, prodding his heart roughly anytime he thinks too hard on them.

When he looks back to Jean-Marc – the cigarette tearing closer and closer to his fingers, an expectant smile on his lips – he concedes.

“Ten is fine,” he says, and suddenly, the sky casts over.

You’re on the terrace when he finally returns to the hotel room. Head aching from the alcohol and forced conversation, he drags himself over to you.

The sight of you, hair lifting in the breeze, the sweet smell and soft touch under his hands feels like the pouring of honey on a raw throat, like cool water lapping at his waist on a scorching day. And he needs more, and he feels the saliva pool beneath his tongue, and you’re touching him and talking to him and all he can think about is replacing his saliva with you – with every drop of you that you’ll lend him.

You follow his every request – parting your legs, making room for him between them, opening yourself to him like coming home after work, like sinking deep into your shared bed, like pushing your salt-slicked fingers on his tongue and chanting taste me taste me love me need me.

Petals opening, shards of orange separating. His cock throbs in his pants when he feels the circle of your hips against his jaw, the taste of sweet, sweet nectar spilling from your center. His clothes still smell of the smoke from Jean-Marc’s weedy lips; the sweat on his skin borne from three hours sat in the sun, dehydrated by whiskey, discussing money and gold and then money again.

He doesn’t want to fuck you here, like this. As that puny, pompous prick he’s felt like since the second he wandered through the Frenchman’s hotel doors. He can’t. You deserve him clean, new. You deserve the Joel you think he is – yours. Affected by your touch alone, moved by the gleam in your eye. You deserve him, Joel decides, on your terms.

And that same night, stood in the same spot, dregs of sunlight replaced by molten moonlight, staring at the dazzling Eiffel Tower against the deep blue sky – that same night, when he turns and clocks the silhouette of your body just feet from him, he realizes that this is it.

He’s sure he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, standing in the dim light, your fingers playing with the bust of the silk robe draped over your body. The jewelry on your neck catching the light like his own private attraction, his own little spectacle. Just for him.

He forgets any other version of himself. Shakes them off like seawater flying from his body as he emerges from the ocean. Venus stood before him; hair lifting in the light, palm over her breast. And he doesn’t notice the departure of those old versions; doesn’t feel the way they tear from his skin. His eyes are glued on you, only you, everything around the two of you reducing to dark matter. There is only his awestruck gaze pointed to your radiant form, as though the scene sits alive in the eye of Botticelli or Michelangelo.

Baby, he whispers, and you move forward, dragging him with you under a wave of lust and rebirth.

He stirs the next morning to the feeling of a weight shifting across his body, two divots in the mattress either side of his waist. Something nuzzling, warm and featherlight, into the nook below his earlobe. Wet kisses trailing down his neck.

There’s no weight of you in the crook of his arm anymore. He’s scooping thin air. He lifts it, and his palm meets the baggy cotton of his own T-shirt, draped over your body, draped over him.

A laugh brushes between his lips. “Mornin’, darlin’,” he croaks, voice still low and broken.

“Hi,” you whisper back, voice like silk and sugar and tufts of lustrous clouds.

He opens his eyes and you’re hovering over him. Tip of your nose circling his, hips light as air across his own.

You look so fucking cute, he thinks. He’d take what he had last night – you, dripping in black lace and bound by satin straps – every night for the rest of his life, if he could. If you’d grant him it. But, this. This.

You – in Joel’s clothes and nothing else. You – the curl of your hair now a lazy wave, the smoky afterthought of your half-removed makeup. The smell of sex still lingering on your skin, the taste of Joel still home on your tongue. Each part of you laced with a part of him.

You – holding yourself up over him, less than an inch apart, and all Joel thinks to do is wrap his arms around your back and let you drop onto his body; his strong, solid body, which accepts the weight of you with only so much as a tiny grunt over his lips when you fall on top of him.

You giggle. He swears he feels butterflies in his stomach. He prays you don’t feel them, fluttering purposefully against your ribcage.

“You’re an idiot,” you mumble into his collarbone, words curled by the smile on your lips. You suck a mark into the hot skin, teeth and flesh and sel et sucre, and then push off from his chest, nudging his thighs wider with your knee.

Your tongue drags a wet trail down his chest, from solid sternum to suppler stomach, following the thickening of hair the lower you move. You leave wet kisses along the crests of his hipbones, the gentle slope of skin leading you to the wide base of his cock, already stiff.

Joel’s breath hitches when your tongue sweeps across it. Your eyes lift and lock with his, fingers taking a heavy hold of him. He smiles, tongue sitting patiently behind his teeth.

“Go on, angel,” he nods, “put that pretty little mouth on daddy.”

You obey instantly, as hungry for it as he is, your tongue swiping from the base of him up, curling around as you reach the head. Swollen, gleaming, slit dripping with slick precome that you lick with just the tip of your tongue and send a roll of pleasure across every nerve in Joel’s body.

He falls back, hands searching for the back of your skull as your lips sink further down down down, tightening around the smooth skin, stopping only when they meet the tuft of hair decorating his dick. His tip pushes against the back of your throat. His head begins to spin.

His back arches, hands anchored on your head, holding you steady as you bob up and down. His shoulders push heavy into the mattress, tummy sucks in until the points of his ribcage mold through his skin. And, oh – you’re so soft with it, so wet and so warm and so good with your tongue, kitten licks over his tip, wet fist wrapped tight around the width of him.

You lift your hand and meet his halfway up his stomach, fingers intertwining, Joel’s knuckles instantly whitening.

“Doin’ so good, baby,” he groans, gasping when your throat constricts around him again.

You gag, choking with a wet grunt, but you never pull away. A quick pause, a heavy breath from your nostrils, and your movements resume.

“’s alright,” Joel coos, fingers rubbing against the back of your hand, “you got it. Atta-girl, fuck.”

His hips begin to lift, slowly jerking up into your mouth. He looks down, loosens the grip you have on his hand only to run his thumb delicately across your cheek, dabbing lightly at the tears in the corner of your eye.

You suck hard around him, cheeks hollowing, tongue flattening to his underside to let him fuck your mouth – a rhythm of sopping sounds and heartbeat hums from your throat. He’s close. He’s so fucking close.

“Just like that,” he tells you, and you blink up at him. Moans muffled by the mouthful of cock, saliva and sex slipping from your swollen lips. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. You’re such a good girl – you want daddy to give it to you?”

Mhm, you mumble into the warmth of his cock, the vibration of your throat on the eager skin enough to send Joel over the fucking edge. He throws his head back, lifts his hips up to you, and fills your mouth at the same rate he fills the room with the sound of his orgasm.

You take every last drop. You’re so good for him. Once he stills, once the screaming in his ears subsides, once the room slowly desaturates back to normal, a faded, blurry normal – he sits up and hooks his hands under your arms, pulling you up into him.

You collapse against his chest for the second time this morning, giggling and licking the last of his come from your mouth. Joel guides your jaw towards his, lips meeting in the middle, and licks the salty aftertaste from your tongue.

He rolls you both over, your thighs sitting safe on his hips.

“I know,” you sigh, head rolling against the curve of his arm beneath, “I know. You don’t gotta tell me.”

“Tell you what, angel?” he asks, one eyebrow lifting.

“Best head you ever had. I know.”

He scoffs, lips finding the hinge of your jaw. You giggle into his ear, a sound softer than birds cooing at the break of dawn, sweeter than the first bite of ripe fruit – the sharp taste bursting across his tongue and coating his teeth in sugar, numbed by the holy coaxing of feathered doves.

“You’re good with it, I’ll give you that,” he murmurs, and the giggle erupts into a laugh which fuels him enough to follow your roll out of bed, tear his shirt from your shoulders, and slip into the shower behind you, kneeling before you when you turn to look.

Joel’s second encounter with Jean-Marc in as many days, goes about as well as the first.

He balls his fists as he introduces the pair of you, watches like a caged and bound animal as Jean-Marc’s eyes loop all around your face, your shoulders, the pull of your dress around your waist.

He knows he’s being quiet. The glances you keep stealing at him tell him you know it, too. He wishes there was something he could say, something his lips might be able to carve into a neat little sentence. Tongue sanding the jagged edges of what he’d really like to say into a joke, a quip to ease the tension you so obviously feel.

But he can’t. His tongue isn’t blunt, isn’t defensive. It’s sharp like the kiss of venom, protective and aggressive. He knows he’d do better to hold it tight between his teeth.

The best he finds himself able to do is keep a heavy hand on your thigh, let you wrap your fingers around his own, squeeze you in place of whispering in your ear.

You hold your own, up against Jean-Marc. He knew you would. He learned less than a week into working with you, not to underestimate you. Your quick tongue, the million and one observations hidden behind the flash of a frown. He knows you can read Jean-Marc – probably better than he can, having known the guy ten years.

It doesn’t make it feel any safer, though. Luring you into a lion’s den. He knows you’ll make it out alive, but he can’t stand the thought of the claw marks in your skin.

That feeling washes over him again – that urge scored so deep into his bones that it hits marrow, to put himself between you and anything which might come to harm you. He swallows it down with the acidic sting of orange juice – slots it somewhere safe in his chest until he can assess whatever the fuck it is. Whatever the fuck it means.

His hand tightens around your leg when Jean-Marc mutters something to his assistant. Joel decides against asking you what it means, for fear he’ll tear the Frenchman limb from limb, strips of satin robe strung across the paved patio.

The assistant – tall, thin, looming over you like impending doom on legs – offers to show you the view of the city. And as Jean-Marc settles into your empty chair, the image of that torn satin robe shunts closer towards reality.

“I wonder if you might indulge me,” Jean-Marc slithers, pinching thin air with one hand and resting the other on the back of Joel’s chair.

“I wonder,” Joel mutters, finger tapping angrily on the table.

“She is a wonderful character. Beautiful, and very smart, I can see. I would be crazy not to ask, you must understand, Joel –”

He can’t help himself. He bites before Jean-Marc lays the trap. His head shakes. “She’s – she’s –”

And suddenly there isn’t a single word in the English dictionary worthy of describing you. Not a single combination of letters, of sounds, of syllables and phonetics that would do you justice.

He settles for, “I wouldn’t be anywhere without her.” It feels fucking redundant. It is fucking redundant.

Jean-Marc nods. “And you know that I see the value in things, hm?”

Joel dead-eyes his opponent, gaze narrowing. “What are you sayin’, Jean-Marc?”

“Well,” he shrugs, gesturing to the shadow pointing out the Eiffel Tower, “Paul is fantastic. Dedicated, hardworking. But it is a lot, for one person. I am sure you can understand, being that you have two assistants yourself.”

“And you wanna take one of ‘em out from under me?”

Jean-Marc chuckles, shaking his head. Tutting. Teeth grinding. He senses the bitter tone, hears the distortion of words squeezing through gritted teeth. “Not at all, my dear Joelie, not at all.”

Placating. It pisses Joel off more.

“I simply would like to raise the question of: would she like to be…taken?”

“Taken?”

“Hired. By me.”

The smug grin which pulls over taut lips incites Joel with a desire to punch the luminous veneers from their gummy holders. His fist balls again, nails digging harshly into his palm. He swallows roughly.

“She seems…she seems happy enough where she is to me.” He glances over, catches your eye for a fleeting second before Paul’s ghostly hand perches on your shoulder and turns your attention away again. Resigned, he adds, “You would have to ask her. I ain’t speakin’ for her.”

Jean-Marc’s leer only grows. “Ask her,” he repeats, nodding. “That is an idea.” He pushes out of his chair with a squeal of wood across stone, calling to the party, “Why don’t we take a drive? There is so much of the city I would love to show you – both of you, of course.”

Before he knows it, Joel’s on his feet, too, panic hammering through every muscle in his body. He tosses some half-assed excuse to the breeze; a half-truth, a desperate attempt to pull you away from the beady eyes and sharp claws of Jean-Marc and his assistant, and back over to his side. He takes your arm and scatters, pulling you past four, five, six bursting bouquets, your heels clicking along the polished floor, your head spinning.

He can feel the blood thrashing through his veins as the elevator arrives back in the lobby. Can see the shadow of Paul the assistant still over your shoulder, the place his hand sat like charcoal on white linen. He feels red hot, anger mixed with panic mixed with a word he hasn’t let slip just yet. He covers it by answering your questions shakily, diverting the ones about the conversation on the terrace.

And then you’re back in the safety of Denis’s car. You’re back to being on your own, together. No third set of eyes watching your every move, studying you like you’re some doll to be observed, or worse. You’re touching him again, holding his arm, caressing his cheek. His breathing eases, his body relaxes into the backseat of the Maybach.

You tell him you’d like to see the Louvre. So Joel takes you to see the Louvre.

Joel Miller has never been in love.

He’s said it, sure. Said it plenty to Avery.

G’night, love you.

I’m so proud of you, sweet; I love you so much.

Thanks for makin’ dinner, babe, I love you.

It began to take the form of breath, passing over his tongue with as much ease and instinct as his lungs would push out air. She looked at him a certain way – he’d say he loved her. They’d talk about the future – he’d tell her he loved her. They fought, over his working hours or the interest rates at different banks or whose family to spend Christmas with – and he’d remind her he loved her.

He meant every single one. He did, truly, love her. He loved her auburn hair, the way it’d sweep over her shoulders like a wave of fire. He loved the way she would pause to take thirty photos of the sky at sunset. He loved how homely she was, how simple and warm she could be. Her recipe books lining the shelves in her kitchen. Her pajamas folded neatly at the foot of her bed, waiting for her at the end of the day.

He loved her enough to spend four years with her, a life split nearly down the middle. Never seeping into one another. His side of the bed, and hers. His items in the fridge, and hers. His fucking bathrobe, and hers.

But right now, standing in a jam-packed room, maneuvering awkwardly around museum guides and backpacked tourists, avoiding the knee-height glass barriers and dodging fucking selfie sticks – Joel knows: he has never been in love.

Not until the moment he turns from some headless bust to search the room – the dark marble walls and great, carved arches; the white Parisian sky illuminating everything in a pale glow. Not until he catches a glimpse of you amongst the sea of bodies – stood before the Venus de Milo, staring up in wonder at Aphrodite like she’s the first thing in the world you’ve ever truly seen. The gentle lean of her body, the low sling of marble fabric around her waist, the soft dimple of her navel.

The way your eyes scan every detail of her form – every fold draped over her thigh, ever chisel mark and chip in her torso. The round swell of her breasts and the wavelike swirl of her hair. Barely blinking, afraid to lose sight of her for even a second.

Joel’s never been in love. Not until this very moment.

He only turned to make some quip about…well, now he can’t fucking remember, can he? Something irrelevant. Something so mundane, so meaningless, so dull that he wishes he could take back every word he ever said to you and use the breath more wisely – use the time spent making stupid jokes and work orders, just to look at you. Watch you, like he is right now. Every other thought, every worry and concern drop weightlessly from his mind, with such ease that he doesn’t feel the loss.

Your fixed stare up at the statue’s set face, the slow pacing of your heels, ankles crossing over one another as you pivot around her. And the look of wonder on your face – as if Joel instantly recognizes eight-year-old you, thumbing through the pages of the first art book she was ever gifted, copying the curled hair and round shoulders of the marble goddess in a pencil sketch.

Haloed by the towering windows behind you, arms crossed over your chest. Lips melting from a content smile to agape, and then pinning back in a smile again.

And suddenly – he can’t remember the flame of hair over his ex’s shoulder. Doesn’t remember a single meal she ever cooked for him. In the blink of an eye, he realizes he doesn’t want a life neatly split anywhere.

He realizes that his life, the way he wants it, was always meant to be meshed with yours. Intertwined so tightly that there is no his and hers. Last night at dinner, you couldn’t decide between the bœuf bourguignon and the confit de canard, so Joel ordered both – as well as what he wanted – and the two of you picked at three separate meals. Holding out forkfuls to feed one another, comparing and judging them like professional chefs on a fucking cooking show.

Back at the hotel, you fell asleep in his arms. Your head nestled under his chin; your arms curved around his shoulders. In the center of the bed, laying at an angle. When he got up this morning, the robe he threw around himself smelled like your perfume. The terrycloth on your shoulders, tinged with the weak scent of whiskey.

None of it – not the relationship you had before any of this happened, not the strolling over one boundary to the next, not the blurring of lines between colleague, and friend, and lover – has been neat. None of it has made any sense. And maybe that’s why he fucking trusts it so much.

Joel spent the first two weeks after you fooled around in his office swearing he wasn’t that guy. Staring himself down in the mirror with a balled fist, a pointed finger that said, You don’t sleep with your fucking assistant, you idiot.

And now, standing opposite you in a crowded room and only seeing you – he knows. He finally gets it.

He loves you. He – no, fuck.

He doesn’t just love you.

He’s on his knees, dagger through his heart –

blood spilling all over the pristine floor –

pathetic and adolescent in its nature –

butterflies tearing through his stomach as destructive as a hurricane –

in love with you.

He thinks to say it. To wander over and kiss your shoulder, hook his chin into your collarbone like he did in the Dolce and Gabbana store, and whisper, Hey. I love you. Did you know that?

But he knows that’d be fucking insane. Knows you’d probably unstick yourself from him and back up, tripping in your step. Paris ruined.

He knows he’d probably get so far as curving around your back and then bottle it, anyway. The words would die in his throat. You’d just lean back into him, none the wiser. You’d still make his heart pound.

Pound the way it does when you reach for his wrist and drag him off into the next room, and the next, and the next. And with every piece of art your eyes fall upon, another fragment of your soul is revealed to Joel. The depth of da Vinci, the color of Bruyère. The scale of Veronese and the beauty of Canova.

And with every part revealed, a desire blooms in him to learn the next part. Understand you; know you better than he knows himself. See you, the way he’s seeing you right now.

He takes his ex’s lead, when you’re stood in front of the Mona Lisa. All those fucking sunset photos, like she was afraid to forget what it looked like. The thought becomes urgent, pushing past every other meaningless word in his head.

He taps you on the shoulder, says your name lightly. When you turn, he’s already holding the phone up, watching your delayed motions through the screen. Please don’t let me forget this. Don’t let me forget you, like this.

“Smile,” he says, and you do.

“You’re cheesy,” you tell him, wandering off from the painting.

He’s still staring at the photo. At your dimpled cheeks, your red lips. Staring at your eyes, seeing a new glint in them that wasn’t there before. Like eight-year-old you smiling back at him, trusting him, knowing him.

Joel breathes, “She’s beautiful,” taking your waist in a steady arm to guide you out of the room.

You misunderstand him. He knows it. He doesn’t correct you.

She’s beautiful – the Mona Lisa. But she only became beautiful the second you laid eyes on her. The second she handed you a piece of your soul, the transaction laid bare for Joel to witness. A bucket list item ticked, or simply your childhood self, stood before one of her own seven wonders.

Everything is only beautiful after it comes into contact with you.

There’s a change in you, the morning that you leave. Something low-lying, melancholy and blue. Joel feels it under your skin, in the grip you keep on his hand the entire car ride from the hotel to the airport.

“You good?” he asks, walking up the steps of the jet, shelled around you. Safe, with him, safe with him.

You nod, but you’re watching the Maybach roll off, rounding the corner back to the airport. The same way you watch the city disappear beneath the clouds as the plane takes off.

The same way you glance over to him, your glossy eyes twinkling, pearly tears swimming across your waterline. Joel gets it. Figures he feels much the same.

He leads you slowly back through to the dark cabin bedroom, where you peel the shirt and sweats from your body. He watches from the bed, arm outstretched and inviting you to burrow into his side, curl around his body, loop your legs through his. His own little Aphrodite, the curves and the dimples and all the beauty to go with her.

He sinks his shoulder to let you nuzzle into him, let your slow-closing eyes follow his movements like rocking you back and forth to sleep. You link your arm through his, locking your bodies tight together. Joel slows his typing down, moves gentler, so you can fall asleep without being nudged too much by his arm.

You mumble something into the sleeve of his tee. He pauses. Looks down at your already closed eyes, your parted lips.

“What’d you say, baby?”

You take a deep, slow breath. Already sleeping, he thinks. And then, in the sigh that escapes from your mouth, you whisper to him.

“Please don’t ever leave.”

[guiltypleasurecreative]

Best Friend Vacation

Best friends Harry and Y/N have been the best of friends for nearly a decade. They’re such close friends they take an annual vacation together, just the two of them. This trip, however, may just be the one that changes things.

Contents: Explicit depictions of sex, fluff

6.6k words

“Oh, my goodness. Harry! This is so nice!”

“Yeah, I think this is the nicest one yet.” Harry set the luggage just inside the door of the cabin you rented for the week. It had been a long drive, but it was still early afternoon—plenty of time to relax and enjoy the day.

You couldn’t say anymore who’s idea it was, but for the last five or six years you and Harry have taken a friends vacation together. One year, you invited some mutual friends, and it wasn’t as fun or relaxing, so you stuck to just the two of you. Things were so much better this way.

After nearly nine years of friendship, you two were super close. You two hung out most weekends and recently had spent many weeks planning this trip to a forested mountainous town close enough to the coast that you could smell the salty ocean air.

“Which room do you want, Harry?”

“I wake up earlier than you, so I want the one with the view. I want my morning tea with a view.”

“I can enjoy the same view when I wake at noon.”

“I’m calling it, Y/N,” he smiled at you and picked up your bags, setting them into the other room – the one without a view, apparently. “Look! Yours has an en suite with a big bathtub.”

You walked further into the room and saw there was a large claw foot tub. “Wow, I don’t remember this on the listing.”

“Me either. Maybe its new and they just haven’t updated the listing yet?”

He turned around to face you, but you only shrugged.

“Let’s put the groceries away, and we’ll figure out what to see first. Maybe we just hang out here and jump in the jacuzzi?”

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked as you entered the house. You’d spent the afternoon in the jacuzzi with a bottle of Moscato. When the bottle was empty you and Harry decided it was time to go inside.

“Getting there.”

“Let’s get cleaned up then I’ll make dinner?”

“Sounds good.”

When you got out of the shower you heard the sound of chopping coming from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Harry greeted you while chopping heirloom tomatoes. “I thought we could have something light. We have burrata and pesto so I’m making a nice tomato salad. I’ve got some garlic bread in the oven.

“That sounds lovely. What can I do?” You took the towel from your hair and draped it over a chair at the kitchen counter.

“Nothing. Go pick a movie.” He smiled as he mixed the tomatoes in with the pesto then seasoned it with salt and pepper.

“What do you feel like watching?” You walked to the living room and turned on the giant television.

“Whatever. What about that movie you were telling me about on the drive up?”

Harry put the burrata in the center of a serving plate and the tomatoes around it. Harry always had a knack when it came to making food look as good as it tasted. On another plate he piled the garlic bread then took it out to the living room where you sat on the couch, remote control in hand.

“Can you grab us some drinks?” Harry asked as the plates on the coffee table. He looked up and saw that you had on a very tiny pair of pajama shorts.

“Of course. Beer okay?”

“Y/N, didn’t you pack any pants? You’re not even wearing socks!”

“I was hot after my shower!”

“Yeah, but as soon as you sit down, you’re gonna get cold. And what are you gonna do? You’re going to tuck your cold ass feet under me!”

“But you’re always so warm!”

“Y/N...get socks at least.” Harry was behind you in the kitchen now grabbing two small plates and utensils.

“Yes, dad.” You smirked, knowing you were annoying him.

“Fine, don’t listen. But you can’t tuck your cold feet under me and I’m not letting you warm up your fingers on me either.”

“Just grab me a blanket if you’re so worried, damn.”

Harry smacked your ass then called you a brat under his breath.

“Bastard! I almost dropped the bottles!” Harry only turned around and winked at you in response.

Harry sat on the couch. When you sat down, he handed you a plate then served you.

“This was a good idea, Har. Something nice and light after all that crap we ate for lunch.”

“Actually, I wanted something lighter because I want ice cream with all the toppings later.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed play on the movie.

The two of you ate in a comfortable silence.

“Pause it for me please? I’m going to put the leftovers away.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks. And get some socks! It still gets chilly at night.” He smacked your ass again as you got up from the couch.

“Are you going to bitch at me every night? We are never taking a vacation in the Spring again. Summer only.”

“Then I’ll just bitch at you about staying hydrated in the heat.” He smiled up at you as he laid down on the couch.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m your best friend. You know you love me! Hurry up, the plot was just getting good.”

You put the leftovers away then went to your room to grab socks out of your luggage. When you returned to the living room you sat down by Harry’s head and made a big show of putting on your socks.

Harry smiled and gave your thigh a light squeeze. “Thank you.”

The movie was pretty good, not what you had expected, but it was enjoyable. When it was over you stood up and stretched, looking down at Harry.

“I think I’m going to bed. You want me to get you some ice cream before I go?”

“Nah, I don’t really feel like it anymore. I think I’ll go read my book. Thanks.” Harry stretched before standing up, too.

“Alright. Good night, Har.”

“Night. Sleep well.” He kissed you on the top of your head and squeezed your shoulder before walking to his room.

When you reached your room, you took your time washing up then climbed in bed. You scrolled your phone for a bit, but you couldn’t quite relax. Thankfully, you brought your toy with you.

You got out of bed and looked for it in your luggage. Quickly, you realized it wasn’t in that particular bag, so you searched your other bag, but had no luck. In frustration you flipped on the bedside light and dumped both bags onto the bed.

A few minutes later you were folding your clothes and putting them back in your luggage, defeated. A knock on your door startled you.

“Y/N?”

“Come in.”

“Everything okay? I got up and saw your light was on.” Harry was dressed in sleeping pants with a matching unbuttoned shirt. He had obviously just thrown it on just to leave his bedroom.

“I forgot my vibrator,” you sighed.

Harry chuckled. “Oh, no. A sexually frustrated Y/N is no fun at all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go to bed, Harry.”

He sat down on the bed, watching you put your things back into your bag. “Oh, come on. Don’t get all bent out of shape. You still have hands.”

You stopped what you were doing just to smack Harry in the arm. “You think if that worked for me, I’d be upset right now?”

“What? So it won’t feel as nice. It’ll still take the edge off.”

You put your bags away and flopped on the bed next to Harry. “No, like, I can’t get there at all without help. Trying just makes me more frustrated.”

After a moment of silence, you reached over to turn off the lamp on the bedside table. “You staying or going? I’m just going to go to sleep.” You didn’t wait for an answer before you settled under the covers again and prepared to sleep.

“Would you like my help?”

With a hearty laugh you swiped your hand down Harry’s face. “Close your eyes and go to sleep Harry.”

“No, I’m serious. Thinking about your toy got me all worked up, too.” You didn’t respond so he continued. “My hand isn’t as fun either. Why don’t we help each other out?”

Is he for real?

“Harry, did the heat from the jacuzzi get to your head?” You chuckled and reached out for his hand and closed your eyes again.

“No, but all my blood is rushing south. Maybe that’s it.”

You opened your eyes again and looked down at his pants. The room was dark, but you could still see he wasn’t lying. He was sporting a bit of a hard on and you let out a breathy laugh. “You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know that?”

“Mmm. Night, Y/N.”

Harry said good night but made no move to go back to his bed. You two had slept together on who knows how many occasions. It was never a big deal, but tonight felt different. You had never fallen asleep next to him while he had a hard on. Or at least not that you knew of.

The two of you laid together quietly before you spoke up. “Okay. Let’s help each other out. I’m not gonna sleep in this state. You can’t be too comfortable either.”

“Y/N?”

“Oh, come on. You make the suggestion then get shy on me? Besides, we’ve seen each other naked before.”

“You’ve seen me because you never knock anymore, but I don’t recall ever seeing you,” he said with a laugh.

“Wow, Harry. Thanks. Good to know it was memorable.”

“I’m serious! I don’t remember. When?”

You turned your body to face him, and he did the same.

“You’ve seen my breasts I don’t know how many times!”

“Breasts don’t count! You’ve seen mine too.” Harry laughed again.

“We really lack boundaries, don’t we?” You giggled.

“Nah, I think we’re just comfortable with each other.”

“Maybe,” you laughed, “but breasts count.”

“Breasts do not count,” Harry countered.

“Okay, well, this is your chance to see the rest of me. Are up for it?”

Harry sat in silence for a moment. “I’m game. My situation hasn’t gone away yet.”

You laughed, “I can’t believe we’re gonna do this. We’re so stupid.”

“We’ve been stupider,” Harry answers, causing both of you to laugh harder.

Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to stop his laughter. “So, we’re serious about this?”

“Yeah, why not. We’ve been stupider right?” You smiled at your best friend.

“Like that time we got lost in Rome after letting our cell phones die?” Harry sat up and put his hand on your knee.

“God, that was so dumb. I still don’t know how we managed to find our way back to the hotel.”

The two of you broke out into a fit of laughter again.

“So. Any hard boundaries? Things that you like?”

“Harry, I’m not discussing my kinks with you. We’re just going to scratch this itch and go to bed.”

“Okay, okay. You afraid I’ll judge you if I find out you like your hair pulled?”

You were a little surprised. “How did you know that?”

Harry shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Ugh, you know me too well.” You got comfortable on the bed and Harry moved to stand on his knees between your legs. He rested his hands on your knees.

“That I do, but I still don’t know where you draw the line.”

“Uhhh. I like dirty talk, but nothing degrading. Nothing rough. I don’t like pain.”

“I could have guessed that,” Harry chuckled.

“What about you? Any no-goes?”

“No, I’ve always really enjoyed wherever the act takes me,” he laughed.

“You’re such a man,” you joked.

Harry shrugged out of his unbuttoned shirt. “Do you…want me to play with you?”

“That feels a bit too intimate, don’t you think?”

“More intimate than sex? Not really. And unless you want to start this with no warmup all dr—”

“Okay. Uh, you could…you could touch me?”

“Sure.” He kissed your forehead and moved from between your legs to lay down beside you. He looked in your eyes as he rested his head on your pillow. He rubbed your stomach, just below your navel. When he moved his hand in gentle circles, his fingers grazing the waistband of your shorts.

“Wanna take these off?” His voice was soft and quiet.

“Yeah.” You looked down at your waist where Harry’s hands still laid. You lifted your hips to take off your shorts and underwear.

Harry groaned and looked back up at your face. “Can I go lower?”

You nodded, not saying a word. He slid his hands lower, barely grazing over your clit on his way to run his fingers between your folds. Your mouth fell open with a sharp intake of breath. His face mirrored yours, clearly drunk on your pleasure.

He played with you for a bit as both of you watched his fingers dip low to gather your arousal and bring it to your clit. He felt amazing. You closed your eyes and focused on your growing pleasure.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You opened your eyes and focused on his face. You could see his arm flexing out of the corner of your eye and it was driving you mad.

“It’s getting painful.” He chuckled uncomfortably.

“Fuck! Sorry!” You got up on your knees, forcing Harry to pull his hand away. “Lie back.”

Harry laid on his back and tucked an arm under his head, watching you.

“Can I take these off?” You kneeled between his legs with both hands on his pants.

“’Course.” He lifted his hips to help you take off his pajama pants. You tugged his pants all the way off of his legs. When you looked back up at him, he had his fingers pressed to his face. “You smell really good.”

You shuddered. It was always such a turn on when a partner enjoyed the smell of you. Without taking his eyes away from you he licked his fingers.

You let out a moan. “Really?”

“It’s a huge turn on for me.” Harry had a broad grin on his face.

“Me too. Never thought we’d know that about each other.”

Harry laughed, prompting you to laugh, too. When you felt a throbbing in your core you decided to get serious.

“Spit.” You held your hand out to his mouth. Harry furrowed his brows. “I mean, unless you like it dry.”

Without taking his eyes away from yours he sat up and spit in your hand. Jesus, that was hot. You brought your hand to the tip off his penis and began to rub him. Your other hand went between your legs to rub yourself. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back on the pillow. When he began to feel dry again you switched hands, bringing the hand covered in your arousal up to his dick.

Harry groaned loudly. “That is the hottest thing anyone’s ever done for me in bed.”

You smiled and hung your head. The feel of Harry’s dick in your hands was such a turn on and you could feel yourself getting closer to your release. You loved it when your partner moaned in bed, it was probably the sexiest thing a man could do in bed. Every sound that fell from Harry’s lips spurred you on.

“Ah—sh—it’s getting dry again.” Harry sat up on his elbows.

You nodded without a word and switched hands again, covering him in more of yourself.

“Y/N, are you still taking the pill?”

Both of your hands stopped moving. “Huh?”

“You’re still on the pill, right?”

“Yes. Yeah.” Your brain was too fuzzy with pleasure to figure out why he was asking.

“So, let’s like, actually do it.”

“Do you want to?” Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You could have come just like this, but you couldn’t turn down intertwining your bodies, feeling full.

“I think that’s pretty obviously a yes. You can feel how hard I am right now.”

You laughed and took your shirt off, just remembering it was still on when the fabric painfully rubbed against your nipples. Harry moaned at the sight of your bare breasts.

“Shit. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

“At least you’ll remember seeing me naked now,” you laughed.

“I never forgot! I just said breasts don’t count.” He ran both hands down your sides. “You haven’t answered me yet.”

“Yes.”

“Regularly?”

You laughed remembering all the times he had to remind you to take your pills in the past. That was so long ago now; you had gotten much better at taking them regularly and on time. “Yes.”

“So, what’s stopping us then?” Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Nothing.”

Harry smiled before pressing his lips to yours. He guided you down on to your back and climbed between your legs again. His kisses trailed from your lips, down your neck, then to your chest. You relished the feeling of his lips on you and running your fingers through his hair. Damn, was he good in bed.

“I wanna try something.” Harry was breathing heavily.

“Anything.”

Harry wasted no time bringing his lips to his to your nipple causing you to cry out. He propped himself up on one arm and brought his hand between your legs. His fingers slid into you and his thumb rubbed your clit.

“Ah! Harry, that feels really good.”

“Good.” He pressed another kiss to your chest.

All too soon you felt that familiar tension building then spilling over. You had one of the best orgasms you’ve had in who knows how long.

Harry pulled his fingers from between your legs and brought them to his lips. Once he had sucked his fingers clean, he brought himself to your entrance. “You’re still okay with this?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his body flush against your chest. He easily slid into you, filling you up. Harry pumped his hips, pulling in and out of you slowly while moaning. His breath on your neck was heavenly.

“Y/N, what’s your favorite position? What will make you come again?”

“I don’t know. A partner has never given me two in one go,” you answered.

“Jesus, Y/N. What kind of losers do you sleep with?”

You laughed but before you could even respond Harry had pulled out of you and was flipping you on to your stomach. He pulled your hips up just a bit so he could slide back in. He placed a hand on your ass and pushed you back down flat against the bed. His hand ran from your ass to your shoulder, massaging as he kissed the nape of your neck. With one last kiss he laid his body flat over yours.

“Cross your legs at the ankle and squeeze your legs together.”

You did as you were asked and thought you were going to come again. Your core was so tight he could barely move himself inside you. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slipped a hand between you and the bed to rub your clit. He continued to press soft kisses to your back as he slowly thrust in and out of you. You could feel how wet you were.

“Y/N, I’m close.”

“Harry, yes. Just use me.”

“No—ah, I need to see my girl’s face when I come. It’s kind of my thing.”

“Lie down,” you commanded.

Harry traded places with you then you grabbed his dick again and lined it up with your center. You sank down on him slowly, enjoying the sight of him coming unraveled.

He held on to your thighs until you placed both your hands over his and brought them to your breasts. “Keep touching me.”

Something about watching your chest rise and fall while you rocked your hips had Harry needing more. He grabbed you by the small of your back and pulled you close to him. He sat up and leveraged the headboard to thrust up into you, his hands back on your hips.

Eventually he felt the need to hold you even closer. He wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his face in your neck. When that wasn’t enough, he placed one hand on your ass helping you to grind into him. He brought his other hand up your spine and grasped the back of your neck.

“Y/N, quick—do I need to pull out?”

He sounded out of breath, and all wound up.

“No, Harry, just come.”

With that something in him snapped. He grabbed your head in both his hands, roughly dragging his thumbs over your lips. “Y/N, look at me.”

You grabbed his face too and held his stare as you felt his warm release spill inside you. He continued thrusting until he was spent, never letting go of your face. When he stilled, he rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

He was the first to break the silence. “Well, that was quite something, huh?”

You laughed. “Jesus, Harry. You should just wife me right now because I don’t know how anything would ever feel that good ever again. You’ve ruined men for me so you should take some responsibility.”

Harry laughed that gorgeous full-chested laugh of his then tapped your thigh, indicating he wanted you to get off his lap. “Ah, careful, Y/N.” He was so sensitive over his penis sliding out of you. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and laid down on the bed. You told yourself that in a second you would get up and clean yourself, but for right now, you just needed a minute to catch your breath.

Harry got out of bed and slipped his pants back on. His first stop was to the hall closet for a hand towel. Next, he went to the kitchen and filled two glasses with ice and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Honey from the freezer. He turned on the tap in the kitchen sink and waited for the water to warm up. While he waited, he grabbed a bar of dark chocolate, knowing you couldn’t handle straight alcohol without something sweet.

Harry grabbed a serving tray off the counter and loaded everything on it before checking the water temperature. It was warm enough to sting his hand – just the right temperature for you. He soaked the towel thoroughly then wringed it out, trying not to burn himself on the hot water. How you enjoyed water that hot was beyond him.

When he got back to the room you were still in bed.

“Here, take this.” Harry set the tray on the bed and handed you a glass of ice. He filled it with chilled whiskey.

“Thank you, Harry. That’s so thoughtful.” You took a sip and grimaced even though you enjoyed the flavor.

“But wait! That’s not even the best part yet!”

Harry pulled the warm damp cloth from the tray and grabbed you by the back of your leg, just under your knee. It was one of your sensitive spots and was almost enough to make you want round two. He began wiping your thighs and cleaning you up.

“Wow. Aftercare? I’m impressed, Har. You this nice to all your partners?”

“A few,” he smiled up at you when you brought your glass to his lips and tilted it to give him a drink. You watched his throat as he swallowed. “Usually, I wear a condom so there isn’t this big of a mess.”

“Just a few? Aren’t I lucky, then?”

“You got that right,” he winked. “Only the best from my best friend. Look!” Harry reached behind him then held up the bar of dark chocolate. “I even remembered that you can’t drink it straight without something sweet.”

You giggled. “Wow. VIP treatment tonight.”

Harry finished cleaning you up the chucked the towel into a hamper near the bathroom door. You sat up and poured him a glass which he gladly accepted then laid down. You broke off a piece of chocolate and held it out to him. He grabbed it with his mouth and thanked you.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Harry asked even though his mouth was still full of chocolate.

You sat up and faced him. “Depends. Do you wanna stick close and go into town or do you want to take a little drive to the coast?”

“Mmmm. That’s a tough one. Why don’t we play it by ear?”

You playfully nudged him. “You mean you don’t have tomorrow all planned out already? Another?”

“Yes, please.” Harry held his mouth open waiting for another piece of chocolate.

“If we stay in town, we can go to that cute little restaurant we saw on the way up.” You tapped his shoulder as if it would jog his memory.

Harry nodded his head but otherwise stayed quiet. He finished his drink then set it down on the tray at the end of the bed.

“I don’t know about you, but I think I need another shower. I worked up a good sweat and now my skin feels all tight and sticky.”

“Can I join?”

“That depends. Are you going to want the temperature scalding hot?”

“Maybe. But I know you love it when someone washes your back for you.”

“Alright, you can come with. But I want you to scrub my back really well. Few minutes at least.” Harry had a playful look in his eyes.

“Deal.”

“Well alright then. Lead the way,” Harry followed behind you, watching as you opened the glass door to the spacious shower and turned on the water.

You stuck your hand under the water and looked at Harry. “This good?”

Harry leaned into the shower stall, a hand on the small of your back. “I guess. Unless you’re willing to turn it down just a tiny bit?”

“Not a chance.” You stepped into the shower under the stream of water. He always knew you were beautiful, but tonight was something else.

“You’re making me want another round,” Harry smiled as he slipped off his pants and stepped in the shower, closing the door behind him.

“Funny, I was thinking that earlier when you were cleaning me up.” You twirled your finger in a motion that asked him to turn around. “Pass me the body wash please.”

Harry passed the bottle and waited until he felt you press a soapy loofah to his back. You placed your other hand on his back to steady yourself as you ran the loofah over his back and sides.

“You know, that was pretty good for me, too. Maybe we can do it again. I mean, there’s no harm, right?”

“Yeah. Until one of us gets into a new relationship,” you agreed.

Harry laughed, “Why would I need someone else?”

You hit him on the back with the loofah before scrubbing him. “What do you mean? I’m not sleeping with you while you’re sleeping with someone else.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, why would I need someone else when I have you? With you I have companionship, someone there when I need them. You give me advice and now I know that we can have some of the best sex I’ve ever had together? What more do I need? We already kind of plan our futures with the other in mind. So… why involve anyone else? I have it made now.”

Both of you laughed.

 “Here. You finish up.” You handed him the loofah and grabbed the shampoo. You began to wash his hair.

“What about love? You can live without someone to romantically love?” You ran your fingers through his hair, cleaning his curly brown locks.

“I don’t know, Y/N. You keep screwing me like that I think I could get to romantic love. I already love you; I just need a couple more orgasms like that to tip me over the edge.”

You held his arms for stability as you bent forward laughing. He held you back and joined in your laughter.

“You’re terrible. Wash up.” You pushed him under the water and watched as he closed his eyes and washed the shampoo from his hair.

“’Kay, your turn.” Harry lathered his palms with shampoo and worked it into your hair by massaging your scalp. You hummed with pleasure, loving it when someone rubbed your head.

“Remember Adriana?”

You didn’t open your eyes to answer him, “Of course. You were crazy about her.”

“I was. But we agreed we weren’t the best for each other.” Harry began to clean the rest of his body. “We actually argued once because she thought we were too close.”

“Sorry, Harry. She wasn’t too far off the mark, though. I mean, look at our history. And then this evening—” You trailed off not finishing your thought.

“Can’t argue that,” Harry chuckled.

Harry placed a hand on your waist to trade places with you so you could rise off.

“I think I’m good without a girlfriend. How about you? Think you’ll get back into the dating game?”

“I don’t know.” You turned to look at Harry. “Done?”

“Yeah. I’ll grab our towels.”

You turned off the water and Harry took a step outside of the shower stall and handed you a towel.

You continued your thought as you dried yourself. “I mean, I think I’m good for now. You’re right that we already have a lot of the components that make a relationship fulfilling. I wouldn’t mind exploring a more physical relationship with you because I already know I can be open and trust you.”

Harry grinned from ear to ear. “I’m always right.”

You playfully smacked his chest and moved past him out of the shower.

“Love you, Y/N.”

You smiled at him but didn’t say it back.

“Y/N! I said I love you.”

Again, you didn’t respond, only nodding. You knew Harry could not handle it when you didn’t say it back.

“Y/N! Say it back!”

Instead, you wrapped the towel around you tighter and scurried back to bed.

“Brat! Come here and say it back to me!”

Harry followed after you and grabbed you with both arms causing you to yelp. He pinned you to the bed and tickled you.

“Say it back, Y/N. Say you love me back and you can end this.”

“Harry, please!” You cried out between giggles.

“Just say it. Three words and I’ll let you go.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Wrong.” He wrapped your hair around his hand to expose your neck. He blew raspberries on the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“Okay, fine! I love you! Are you happy now? Shit!”

Harry playfully pushed your head into the bed and rolled off of you.

You acted mad but Harry knew better. “Was that so hard?”

“No, but I can’t let you have everything so easily. Someone has to keep you in check.”

“So like you. Difficult for no reason.” Harry winked but you still threw a pillow at him.

“You sleeping here?” You had already hung your towel up in the bathroom and crawled in bed again.

“Might as well. I’m already here, right?” He got in bed and pulled the blankets up to his waist. “Do you mind if I sleep naked?”

“I don’t think that after today you ever have to ask that question again.”

Harry chuckled. “Come here. Since we’re being touchy feely, I want to cuddle you in my sleep.”

You scooted closer and relaxed into his arms, your back against his warm chest. He swung a leg over your legs.

“Don’t get upset when my morning wood pokes you.”

“Harry! You’re terrible! Go to bed.”

“Y/N? Wake up. Your breakfast is gonna get cold.”

You opened your eyes to see that Harry had made omlettes with the leftovers from last night’s dinner.

“See, this is why I took the room with the view. I had tea in my room and still had time to make breakfast before you woke up. You missed a hell of a view.”

You smiled, and looked over at the clock and saw it wasn’t yet 9:00. “Dude, it’s still so early, I’m sure the view is just as nice now as whenever the hell you woke up.”

“You’re something else. Scoot over, would you?” He got in bed and handed you a plate then grabbed his from the bedside table.

When breakfast was done you put the dishes in the kitchen then brushed your teeth. You had yet to get dressed after last night’s shower.

“Hey, Y/N? I’m feeling very frustrated again.”

You laughed, “are you now?”

“Come here.” Harry patted the bed beside him.

When you came near enough, he placed a hand on the side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss. You laid on the bed next to him and he immediately brought a hand between your legs.

“Are you always so eager?” You smirked at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“You have no idea. You better get used to it. Especially if you insist on walking around with nothing on.”

Any response you had dried in your throat. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the growing pleasure between your legs.

“Y/N. I want to try something with you.”

Harry looked at you nervously, but you only smiled. “Anything.”

“You’re going to regret having said that,” Harry said with a mischievous grin. He laid down on his stomach between your legs. “Still with me?”

“Yes.” You could barely breathe. The anticipation only made you more wet.

Harry wrapped his hands around your thighs and began to kiss your legs, making his way to your core. You let out a low, breathy moan. Even when he was teasing Harry was amazing. Without warning he licked your folds, causing you to cry out. He sucked on your clit before lapping up more of your arousal. He added his fingers and slowly pumped in and out of you, watching you squirm.

“Harry. Come here. I need to feel you.” You ran your hands through his hair.

Harry seemed to be ignoring you. He licked at your insides while he continued to pump his fingers. You caught how he was grinding his hips on the bed and felt a shiver run through your body.

“I’m so close,” you panted.

Harry moaned in response then brought his thumb up to rub your clit. His tongue was still lapping at your folds and licking your insides. Before long you felt yourself shaking as you climaxed.

When your legs had stopped trembling Harry climbed up your body. He kissed you deeply and pressed his body to yours, grinding against your hips. You were so slick he plunged into you without having to guide himself into you.

“You feel so good, Y/N. I’m never leaving this spot between your legs.”

As Harry pumped into you, you thrust to meet his hips. Deep and desperate moans filled the room along with the sounds of your bodies slapping together and the bed creaking.

“Fuck, I’m getting close.”

You wrapped your arms around him in response and dug your heels into his ass in an attempt to bury him deeper within you.

“Y/N, do I have to pull out?” Harry was panting, not slowing his pace at all.

“Inside. Always inside. Give me everything you got.”

With that, Harry came. He drained himself inside of you, his hips only slowing to a stop when he became too sensitive. Harry kissed you with a big smile on his face then laid down next to you. He rubbed your lower stomach—something you could get used to.

“You know, if we keep going raw like that we’re going to end up with an unplanned pregnancy. Especially with how forgetful you are with your meds.”

You smacked his chest playfully. “Hey! I am so much better now. It’s been ages since I’ve forgotten.”

Harry smiled and kissed you on your forehead.

“We should probably invest in condoms. I’m going to want to do this all the time. We could put them on an auto delivery.” You giggled and interlaced your fingers with Harry’s.

“Yeah. I’ll look into it as soon as we get back home.” Harry fell silent for a moment, lost in thought. “Or I could just get a vasectomy. Unless you want kids. Do you want kids?”

“Harry!” You burst out laughing. “We just started this…friends with benefits thing yesterday. Now you’re talking about vasectomies and children?”

“It’s a conversation we should have if we’re going to be sleeping together. Have you changed your mind since the last time we talked about kids?”

“You’re right,” you sighed. “Uh, no. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Well, your whole ‘if it happens, it happens’ stance is not a solid plan.” He laughed before kissing your forehead. “Such a wishy-washy approach could make things difficult later if something unplanned does happen.”

“What would you do if we go back home, and a couple weeks from now I miss my period. What do you want? Could you raise a kid with your best friend?”

“Absolutely. We’d be great parents.”

“Be serious!” You laughed, causing Harry to laugh too. You cuddled up to him and rested your head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and gave you a loving squeeze.

“So, we actively take steps to make sure it doesn’t happen. Which may or may not include a vasectomy so I can keep enjoying you without a barrier between us.”

“Sounds like a solid plan.”

“But it still doesn’t address the unplanned. What’s our move then?”

“Um…then we have a child. We raise it with all the love we can.”

“I can handle that.”

Harry rested his head against yours and went quiet again. You were rubbing his arm when Harry blurts out, more to himself than to you, “what if we just get married now?”

“The fuck is going on in your head that that is where you ended up?”

“No, listen. I’ve been telling you for years your insurance is too expensive, whereas mine is quite reasonable. If we do become parents-to-be it would be so much cheaper and convenient to have you on my insurance plan.”

“So, I’ll join your insurance plan. Why do I have to marry you for that?”

“Because I don’t have the option to add best friends to my plan. Immediate family only like spouses.”

“Okay, well, if that happens Vegas is only a 6-hour drive from home. We’ll get married and I’ll get on your insurance plan. Deal?”

“Deal.” He snuggled you closer.

“You know, if this is your idea of pillow talk, I no longer wonder why your relationships haven’t worked out.”

Harry playfully shoved your face away onto your own pillow. “Brat.”

“Damn. Maybe we should get married. Think of what we’d save not paying for two mortgages.”

 “Now you’re talking. I’ll start planning the wedding.” Harry chuckled then winked at you.

“You should probably start planning for a future where I leave you and move across the country because you drive me insane.”

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You looked up at him expectantly.

“Shower first?”

“Fine. But this time you have to scrub my back!”

Part Two

[velocesainz]

Listeeeen well read but… I love angst so. Any driver you want… where the reader has a miscarriage. Yeah if is too much I’m sorry I leave now

Kissies ✨

A/n: This sounds super interesting! I hope you like it I also apologise for taking so long, I kinda forgot and also had exams. Kissies ✨

Our Lost Family

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: You end up having a miscarriage and you become super depressed after losing the baby, Lando gets fed up of your moping. Will this ruin your marriage forever?

Warnings: very angstyyy, sad

Pairing: Lando x wife!pregnant!reader

Part 2

Y/n pov:

It was a normal day, well as normal as it can be when you’re pregnant.

I got out of bed and went down the stairs to get started on breakfast for Lando and I.

Finishing up breakfast I set the table and called Lando to join me.

“How’s the little one feeling” Lando asked me touching my stomach tenderly.

“There’s a little discomfort but overall seems to be doing pretty well in my opinion” I replied and he looked at me with a soft smile.

We chatted about plans for the rest of the day as we ate and then went on about our plans finishing off the busy day with a nice calm dinner at home.

“Baby?” Lando called out as I was setting up the table.

“Yes love? What happened?” I asked.

“I have this weird nagging feeling that there’s something that is going to go wrong and I just can’t get it to stop” Lando confessed and that got me thing.

I have also felt an odd feeling similar to how Lando described it.

“I have also had this feeling, I don’t know what it is but it feels very serious” I told him and his face grew increasingly worried.

“Baby, I want you to know, no matter what happens to us or the baby I will always love you. Nothing will get me to love you less” Lando said and that made me both worried and a little calm at the same time.

Timeskip:

I was sitting at home watching tv and eating a simple salad when my stomach started to hurt extremely badly.

I saw blood pooling at my feet and I knew immediately that I was having a miscarriage, having heard so much about the experience from my mom who had had 2 miscarriages.

I immediately dialled Lando’s number but he didn’t pick up.

I dialled my mom number and she came in a few minutes and took me to the hospital.

Lando pov:

I was in a meeting when y/n repeatedly called which was odd for her as she knows my schedule and knows not to call when I’m busy.

I ignored her calls and put my phone one silent.

Timeskip:

I got home to find nobody around.

There was an eerie silence.

I walked to the bedroom in hopes of finding y/n sleeping but to no avail.

I went into the living room and found a pool of blood at the base of the couch.

My heart sank to my stomach.

Was this why she was calling?

Oh god is she alright??

I called y/n only to find that she left her phone here in the house

I thought of calling her mother, maybe she had taken her to the hospital?

When I called she immediately picked and her voice frantically said “Lando! Thank god your done, please come to x hospital immediately! I’m afraid y/n is having a miscarriage”

My brain was spiralling but I managed to get my keys and drive to the hospital.

When I entered the hospital is when I was met with the sight of y/n’s mother, sitting on a chair with her head in her hands.

“Mum?” I called out to her

Her head immediately snapped towards my direction and she sprinted over “Oh Lando My baby she’s in danger, her baby’s in danger I don’t know what to do” she cried.

“Don’t worry mum, she’ll be fine, she’s one of the strongest people I’ve met” I told her mum to try and calm her down.

“I guess you’re right, she is quite the resilient kind” she sighed out sadly.

Timeskip:

The doctor finally came out and came up to me and yn’s mum.

“You must be Mrs Norris’s family. She’s fine but significantly weaker. The baby however…did not make it. I’m so sorry for your loss, you can visit her now. She’s in room 004.”

When the doctor said this my heart sank to my stomach. We both had tried so hard to have a kid together and when she finally got pregnant she ended up having a miscarriage. I don’t know how I will face her after this pain.

I walked into the room and found her lying on the bed sleeping peacefully, if only life was going the way it was.

“Hey love, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. If only I had picked up your call, our child would’ve been alive with us” I spoke softly into her hair as I held her close.

She woke up in a panic “WHAT HAPPENED?? IS MY BABY OK? Lando ANSWER ME”

I didn’t know what to say to her so I just kept my head down and I guess she understood what I was trying to say. She broke down into sobs.

“My poor baby, I didn’t even get to see you. How am I to continue without you” she kept on repeating to herself and my heart kept breaking into smaller pieces with every word.

Timeskip:

Y/n’s been so incredibly depressed ever since the miscarriage. She can barely get out of bed in the morning and struggles to do basic tasks.

I love her but this is getting way too much. I mean, it’s just a baby, we can always try for another one.

I walked into the living room to see y/n lying on the couch with a blank stare on her face.

“Y/n?” I called out to her and she slowly turned towards me

“Y/n this is not healthy. It’s just a baby, it’s not the end of the world. We can always try for another one. Right now I’m fed up of you not doing anything but moping around and acting like the world has collapsed on you” I spoke fast.

Looking at her glossy eyes and hurt face should have told me that what I did was wrong but I didn’t realise

“Do you know how much this baby meant to me Lando? Do you know? After months of trying I finally got pregnant and I just lost the baby and you’re telling me to just “get over it”? Do you even hear yourself? I’m absolutely disappointed in your understanding. I’m leaving.” She yelled and walked out of the house.

What have I done?

Part 2?

A/n: I would love to get your guys feedback and also please send me any requests you’d like to see since I’m done with exams and have a bunch of free time. Kissies ✨

[reyesstrand]

If you’re still doing them Maddie, I wish you would write a fic where TK cooks for Carlos for the first time 💖

The weight of a long shift—a week of them, all spilling into each other like dominos—digs into Carlos’ shoulders as he sighs and stretches his neck and thumbs the ridges of his house key before shoving it in the lock.

TK’s been texting him most of the day, just aimless, endearing tangents about a dream he had the night before and the cheesy medical procedurals available to him on streaming, along with a smiley selfie or two, and it’s kept him upright. Upright through the back-to-back domestic disturbances; the multi-vehicle pileups. Carlos didn’t want to bug him with talk of work when his boyfriend’s still on mandatory leave, but he thinks it’s been written on his face, lately, just how tired he is.

“Hey babe.”

Tired enough to not even register TK standing by the dining table, in a pair of dark jeans and t-shirt. His bandage pokes over the edge of his collar, and Carlos focuses on it like he always does; on how much is being held together with stitches and gauze, on how quickly a life—the most important life—could’ve been taken away. Carlos’ eyes drift up to his boyfriend’s face: the slight pinkness to his cheeks, the soft creases around his eyes.

“Hey,” Carlos says, stepping in close and accepting the hug TK pulls him into. “I thought we were meeting up tomorrow night.”

TK’s gaze is warm when he pulls back from the hug and instead cups Carlos’ face. “We still are. I just wanted to check in on you tonight.”

“I’m fine,” Carlos insists, reaching up to gently squeeze at TK’s wrists, sparing an extra second to feel the thrum of his pulse under his thumbs.

“Baby, you’re running on fumes.”

Carlos bites the inside of his cheek, allowing himself to absorb the pet name TK’s been using more and more; allowing himself to wonder what exactly gave himself away to his boyfriend.

“I thought you could use a night in,” TK continues, lacing their fingers together now so he can tug Carlos further into the house; into the kitchen, which he is just now noticing has been used. “The market didn’t have red snapper,” TK pauses, his eyes flashing with mischief as their gazes lock, “but the guy told me the salmon was super fresh. It needs like, two more minutes in the oven and then we can eat.”

Carlos takes it all in: the mixing bowl full of a salad, complete with roasted nuts and segments of citrus; the smell of garlic and onion; the candlelight filling the room. TK gives him a nervous little smile as he gently moves around him in the small space when the timer goes off, filling their plates with fluffy, herbed rice and filets topped with lemon slices.

“Let me help you,” Carlos says, finally finding his voice after watching his boyfriend in quiet wonder.

“I can handle two plates, babe,” TK teases, jerking his chin toward the dressed table. “Go sit. Let me take care of you for once, Reyes.”

He listens to TK and sits in his usual chair, imagining his boyfriend in his home, humming along to music blasting from his phone as he diced vegetables and prepped dozens of ingredients so it could all come together in time. It’s a sight he hopes to come home to forever. It’s a sight he hopes to witness; to be a part of, next time.

Once they’re across from each other, Carlos’ stomach growls. He’d barely had time for a protein bar in the first half of his shift. He brings a forkful to his mouth and hums happily as flavour bursts over his tongue.

“I didn’t know you could cook like this,” Carlos admits, as the side of his fork glides through the fish.

“Well, you’re always so particular about your recipes,” TK jokes, before shrugging his good shoulder. He reaches across the table and squeezes Carlos’ hand. “I want to do this for you more. I want to do this together.”

“I’d love that,” Carlos smiles, thumb stroking over TK’s knuckles. Suddenly not wanting to hold it in anymore, and feeling brave in the golden light of their moment together, Carlos says: “I love you.”

TK beams. There’s something like wonder in his eyes when he replies, “I love you too.”

It feels like a mortal failing to not kiss him in this moment, and so Carlos does; pushing his chair back and leaning over at the waist to cup TK’s jaw in his palm and press their mouths together. Their lips move in an easy slide, and TK tastes of citrus, of something distinctly himself.

It’s kind of like coming home. And Carlos never wants it to fade away.

(i wish you would write a fic where…game!)

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER 03

Summary: Jenna's need to find out who you really are is prevailing, so is her arousal.

Pairings: Jenna Ortega x G!P!Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Smut. Mentions of sex and kinks. Sexting, masturbation, voyeurism. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's note: Sorry to keep you guys waiting. I hope it was worth it, huh? Let me know what you think!

MASTERLIST!

(Y/N)xz: hey

(Y/N)xz: i'm so glad you decided to take up my offer

jenna2709: really?

(Y/N)xz: yeah

(Y/N)xz: i honestly thought you wouldn't say yes

jenna2709: i had to.

jenna2709: getting a private livestream from you isn't something you can get everyday.

(Y/N)xz: i can see you're very excited for that

jenna2709: i am.

jenna2709: what about you?

(Y/N)xz: counting the days

(Y/N)xz: wanted to see your face for quite sometime now

jenna2709: you've at least imagined what i look like by now, right?

(Y/N)xz: a little

(Y/N)xz: also the fact that i can only think about my coworker's face when i think of you it's a little bit strange

jenna2709: oh, why is that?

(Y/N)xz: it's because you guys have the same name

(Y/N)xz: which is weird because i see her everyday and we never even really talked

(Y/N)xz: maybe it's because she is the only jenna i know

(Y/N)xz: was*

(Y/N)xz: now i know you :)

jenna2709: i hope she's pretty enough for you.

jenna2709: i want you to imagine me as some pretty girl.

(Y/N)xz: she's gorgeous

(Y/N)xz: bet you're more, though

jenna2709: guess you'll find out soon enough.

"Okay, now you're being straight up mean." Jasmine said while eating a piece of her spring salad, while looking at her friend. "You said you're showing her your face and now you're suddenly giving up?"

"I'm not giving up, Jasmine. It's just, I don't know why I agreed." Jenna sighed, while trying to distract herself reading a couple of lines from her script. "And now she's gonna know who I am and she's gonna be so embarrassed. Fuck, it's gonna be so freaking awkward. I'm working with her every single day."

"How are you so sure they are the same person? Just because of a scar? Millions of people have scars." Jasmine said, which made Jenna wonder for a while: What if she was, in fact, losing her goddamn mind and they weren't the same person?

"No, I just remembered. They have the same voice, as well. I'm 99% sure." The younger actress would never admit it, but she was so afraid of that 1%. "And also, she has a few tattoos. If only I could at least see if she has those tattoos. But she's always wearing long sleeves, fuck. I'm definitely not gonna do that video call and that's final."

"You're being a chicken and you know it. What's the worse that can happen? If anything, you'll end up sucking her dick right on that nasty green couch in the break room." Jasmine felt a slap right on her left arm. "Hey! It's not like you're not gonna enjoy it! You seem like one of those kinky ass chicks who no one thinks that are actually kinky."

"Oh please, you should've seen her kink list from her profile." Jenna immediately regretted saying that. Mental note: Think about everything you're gonna say to Jasmine.

"Wait, what?!"

"Breeding, breath play, knife play- Oh fuck, she's crazy. Run. Run for your life! Run for the hills!" They laughed, while Jenna tried her best to hide her embarrassment. "Holy shit, she's that kinky. How the fuck do they have that?"

"When you sign up, you have to fill out your kink list. I thought you also had an account, dingus."

"I do, dingus, but the kink list is not mandatory." Jasmine stopped for awhile, until she thought for one second. "God, you filled yours?!"

"Give me my phone now." Jenna said, trying to look angry while Jasmine got up from the chair and started to run away with the latina's phone in her hand, trying to search the list on Jenna's profile.

"I have the power in my hands!" Jasmine and Jenna didn't knew how, but they ran until the parking lot, looking like two little sisters having an argument over a toy. "Girl, you're into that?" The black girl said, while laughing, which made Jenna angrier.

Before the younger one could even respond to that, she felt a body crash against hers, making her almost fall over to the floor, but thankfully her body was held in time to prevent that from happening. "Hey, are you alright?"

Fuck, it was you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry... Jasmine- She had- " Jenna tried to speak but ended up mumbling all of the words. The way your strong arms held her, your woody perfume which she swore it was the best scent she has ever smelled in her life, your face looking at her as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

"Don't worry about that, just try to be careful next time, okay?" You almost were talking down to her, as if she was a little kid, which was something that would immediately make Jenna hate you. Since she started working as a child, having people treat her as one made her blood boil. But no, not this time. "I was actually looking for you."

"Really?" Jenna said, after recomposing herself, her worries about her phone were long gone. Jasmine could see her nude pics, for all she cared. All she could think about was the fact that you were looking for her.

"Yeah, I kinda needed to adjust some of the camera's settings before we start shooting." Oh, okay. At least she thought about me first, she considered. "You know, saturation, contrast and stuff. Need to do with the whole cast, actually." She knew what it was, she had to do that at least, a hundred times over the course of her career. But god, you looked so cute while explaining it.

"Yeah, yeah, we can do that. I just need to get my phone and I'll be there." Jenna said, trying to seem as casual as possible, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for god knows whatever reason.

"Alright, I'll be at stage 5. And try to not run like that again, okay? You could really get hurt." You smiled sympathetically to her, it wasn't visible to you but Jenna's heart was fluttering as if she was a teenage girl who just spoke to the most popular boy at school.

"Yeah, sure... I'll be careful, totally." She smiled back, before watching you leave, her legs almost giving up on her before hearing Jasmine's voice behind her, driving her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, (Y/N), I'll be careful, I swear! I'll promise I will never ever fall again, unless you're here to hold me in your arms, oh god!" Jenna rolled her eyes, jokingly, while snatching her phone away from Jasmine's hands. "I mean it, either she's the most oblivious person on the planet or you just straight up told her you want her P in your V with your body language."

"It wasn't that obvious, Jasmine. You're being too much."

"Girl, the tension was almost palpable. Please hope that she's stupid enough to let this pass. What were you guys talking about, anyways?"

"She wants to adjust some of the camera's colour settings and needs me to be there. And also the entire cast, as well. But she asked me first, that must be something right?"

"Literally nothing, Jenna." The latina rolled her eyes, ignoring her friend. "But still, you can use that opportunity to figure out if she's really the chick from the website. Try to find out if she has those tattoos you saw on the livestream."

"Thankfully you had a good idea, for once."

"And if she's really her, you can suck on her balls without feeling guilty."

"You're not helping." Jenna sighed, running her hands through her hair. "I'm gonna kill myself tonight."

"For a girl with a pussy like yours, that would be a waste."

"You'd seen my pictures?!" Jenna looked at her friend furiously, wide-eyed.

"Oh my god I was joking, do you really have pussy pics?!"

"I hate you!" She almost screamed before leaving a laughing Jasmine behind. Jenna was nervous, of course. You guys started filming this week, and throughout the entire period you guys were there, she tried her best to avoid you due to the fact that she was, actually, a chicken. You guys didn't even spoke much, that only one occasion a couple of moments ago being the first real conversation you guys had. Just, being around you made her nervous. And it wasn't even because of the streams she's been watching. It's just, you're you. Your body language, your voice, the way you act around set, you seem so freaking professional and Jenna was a sucker for that. The way you dressed, the way you took care of everyone who worked with you. She has been with her eye on you every day ever since she met you, and she's been watching you very closely. Everything about you drove Jenna insane, and surprisingly, she liked that.

After a couple of minutes walking through set, with her hands sweating and lots of heavy breathing, she finally made it into stage 5. You were there with a couple of people from production; some of them working on their own stuff, and a couple of guys talking about you while you held one of the cameras that would be used through filming. You were laughing a bit, something that made Jenna's heart flutter. Damn it.

"Yeah, and he was the kind of guy who wouldn't - Oh, hey Jenna! Talk to you guys later, okay?" You politely dismissed the guys you were talking to as soon as you saw Jenna enter your field of vision. Fuck, why did you have to be so well mannered? "Are you ready to look at me for a couple of hours?"

"I'm- I-" Jenna stuttered, making you laugh a little bit. She was being kinda cute, you thought.

"Relax, I'm joking. It'll be only a couple of minutes. I promise you don't have to get stuck with me for more than that." But I would definitely like to, Jenna thought to herself. "Can you stand on that mark for me, please?" Oh, she would do anything for you if you asked her like that again. So she stood on that mark, five feet away from you, while you put the camera on the tripod, already connected to the monitors and software responsible for editing. Jenna looked straight at the lenses, but thankfully she got to look at you while you set things up, and oh god you were a sight for sore eyes.

"Okay, can you look at the little red dot for me, please?" She almost hated you for being so polite, and obviously did what you asked. You would never admit that in front of anyone, but Jenna was truly one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. Looking at her through the lenses was definitely the best part of this job.

"So, you've been working with this for a while?" Jenna said, wanting to start some small talk in order to find out more about you (and your tattoos, obviously).

"Um, not really. I finished college a couple of months ago, this is my first real job as a videographer. Dave was nice enough to put me under his wing and be my mentor, actually." You said while pressing some buttons on the camera and typing on the keyboard under the monitors. "I've worked in movie sets while in college, but mostly I just held microphones and cleaned camera lenses."

"For someone who already graduated, you seem really young. How old are you?" Jenna couldn't remember if your profile said you were twenty-three or twenty-four.

"Oh, thanks. You don't look so bad yourself, either." Jenna really hoped you were flirting with her (deep down, she kinda knew you weren't). "I'm twenty-four, actually."

"Really? You look really young." Jenna smiled slightly, secretly looking at you while you were pressing more buttons which she wouldn't even bother knowing what they did. "I get that a lot, too. I'm only twenty-one, but people think I'm seventeen most of the times."

"That must be annoying, huh?" You looked at her face through the lenses again, the adjusted lighting making her look more beautiful that she already was, if that's possible.

"Oh, you have no idea. I'm almost getting a tattoo on my forehead that says 'No longer a minor'." You both laughed for a moment. "Do you have any?"

"Tattoos? Yeah, just a couple." Fuck, she was close. She just needed to see one of them.

"Do they hurt a lot? I wanted to get one but I'm kinda scared." She wasn't.

"Yeah, a little. Nothing you can't handle." You stopped doing what you were doing to come a bit closer, which made the latina hold her breath for a second. "This one was the worst, definitely."

You lift up the hem of your shirt just a little, but enough for Jenna to see your slightly muscular v-line. Oh fuck, she felt like passing out. Until you showed her your tattoo, it was a roman number that Jenna couldn't even bother to figure out what it meant, but one thing was for sure: it was the same tattoo she had seen on the streams.

"That's cute..." She tried her best not to sound suspicious. You smiled and started to get back behind the camera.

"That one hurt like a bitch, I swear." You laughed a bit, before pressing the final buttons on the camera. "I think we're done! Can I take a video of you to see if the settings worked out?" Jenna only could nod, the thought of having you abdomen close to her mouth and not being able to lick it was the most traumatic experience of her life. "Okay, can you smile for me?"

And like the whipped bitch she was, she happily did. You shot the video for a couple of seconds and saved it, looking at it for a bit before gazing at the girl again. "Okay, that's pretty much it. Thank you for coming here, yeah?"

"Sure, no problem." She was almost shaking, she hated the fact you were such a sweetheart while at work, and at the website you acted like the lesbian version of Magic Mike. So, she left. Regretting the fact she didn't even made her move because being around you was intimidating enough to keep her from breathing properly, but at least she did what she was there to do: she knew, for sure, that you were the person she thought you were. And now, she had another issue to deal with.

Thankfully, you guys scheduled the video chat for tomorrow. Jenna knew that today she wasn't ready to reveal her face to the person who's been occupying her thoughts for the past few days. So, she did what she's been religiously doing for the past week. Locked her hotel room door, put her headphones on and relaxed while watching your stream. Only god knows how much she missed watching you stroke your cock while moaning softly and talking the filthiest shit ever. Jenna turned on her laptop and went on the website, which by now was marked as her favorite, and as usual, you were already there.

This time around, Jenna just wanted to enjoy watching you. No games or teasing, she genuinely wanted to look at you while you pleased yourself in front of her.

"Hey guys, how are y'all doing? Hope y'all are doing great." Even now, you were the most polite person ever. Fuck, she hated that. And you. She hated you. Definitely despised you.

You interacted with the chat for a couple of minutes, before really starting to put on your show. Obviously you knew "jenna2709" was watching, and now, even though you would never admit it, you liked putting your show to her, and only her. So now, you were dedicated to deliver the best show you could ever do. "I'm gonna try something different today, if you guys don't mind. But I'm sure you guys are gonna love it as much as I am."

Your hardened cock was already starting to pulse in your pants, so you were quick enough to unbutton your jeans and let your member spring free. Jenna's mouth watered at the sight of your throbbing cock, making her wish she could lick all of your pre-cum off of your tip.

For all these days Jenna's been watching you, she has never touched herself while you were streaming. Mainly because she was scared that once she did, she wouldn't be able to look at your face again out of embarrassment. But it seemed that every stream that she's watched, it got harder and harder to maintain her posture.

Jenna looked at you while you slowly stroked your dick, which started to made her anxious. She knew you had to tease in order to keep your viewers watching (which is why Jenna was the one emptying her bank account to you so you could cum faster). That same odd feeling on the pit of her stomach started to become more and more present, and she hated the fact the she couldn't just cave in and thrust two fingers inside of her aching cunt. You drove her out of her thoughts when you grabbed something from behind your camera, which made Jenna curious to what it was, exactly. And then she realized it was a tiny silicone ass toy, with an small opening right at the vagina. Oh, fuck.

"Do you guys ever think about someone while jacking off or is it just me?" You asked your viewers while putting a litte bit of lube on the toy. You would never admit this on camera, but you obviously were talking about Jenna. Not Jenna, your coworker, of course. But there was something about Jenna, your viewer, that made you intrigued: you didn't even knew what she look like, but all of the conversations you had in this past week made you wonder who was she, and what she was doing watch you religiously every night? What was it about you that made her so committed? The was she spoke to you in your chat, the way she tipped you just so you could cum for her, and her only. It's safe to say that, even without knowing what her face looked like (and trying your best not to think about Jenna, your coworker, because they shared the same name, of course), you started to think about her in those extremely intimate moments.

"So you got someone on your mind now, huh?" One of the viewers asked in the chat, which made Jenna anxious for the answer. If you were thinking about someone else, she would definitely want to know who it was.

"Yes and no. Maybe if I knew how she looked like, exactly, then she would 100% be occupying my head." You laughed a bit. Thank god your viewers couldn't see your face, because it was flushed red from embarrassment. You shrugged it off and started to tease the tip of your cock right onto the toy's pussy, wanting to get your viewers more excited. Which, of course, worked every single time.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $300 with the message: you know i hate it when you tease.

"I know you do, baby. That's why it's so fun." You laughed again, holding your cock by the base while still rubbing your tip onto the toy. Little did Jenna knew, but deep down, you were teasing just to get her attention.

jenna2709: what's the fun of being an annoying tease, huh?

"Being able to frustrate you." Jenna sighed. Oh, you were a demon. How could someone that was so polite and well mannered at work, behaved like this when the night came? "Come on, we both know that you enjoy this."

jenna2709: more than i care to admit.

"Alright, I'll stop being mean, okay? Let me give you what you've been waiting for, baby." You slowly penetrated your dick into the toy, which immediately made you drag out a raspy and low moan. The tightness of the toy was beginning to drive you insane, and for a brief second you wished you had Jenna's pussy around your cock, instead of a fake silicone one.

"Fuck." Jenna whispered to herself, feeling her underwear getting ruined for the fifth time this week. She felt her clit throb and pulse, it was incredible that you didn't even had to do anything huge to get Jenna turned on, just by breathing you aroused the shit out of her. "No. Pull yourself together."

jenna2709: i would kill someone to be in this toy's place.

"And I would kill someone to have you right here, right now." You started to slowly thrust your member inside of the tight, yet slightly slippery toy, your moaning now becoming louder and louder. Thankfully the hotel doors weren't thin enough, so you could be considerably loud without worrying about other people in the floor. Unbeknownst to you, "jenna2709" was just down the hallway watching you, in the verge of tears trying her best not to succumb to her primal desires and touch herself. "Fuck, this feels so good..."

jenna2709: you're making it impossible for me to not touch myself.

"Why don't you, baby? Maybe we get to cum together this time around, huh?" That seemed like an irresistible offer that Jenna really, really wanted to accept and decline, at the same time. For some reason, you figured that she was depriving herself of something good and a part of you wanted to just leave it that way, maybe she had her own reasons to just stand still while watching your streams. But another part of you really wanted to have some fun with this. So, like the devil you and Jenna knew you were, you licked your thumb and started to make circular motions over the toy's clit, while thrusting your cock steadily inside of it. "Don't you wish I was doing that to you?"

"Oh my fucking god." Jenna couldn't hold it in anymore. She tried, god, she really tried. But it was too much, even for her. Without thinking about the day after, she pulled down her pants alongside with her underwear and finally decided to give her pussy some attention. She was dripping wet, not ironically wetting her sheets in the process, but she wasn't even paying attention to those details. The only thing she cared enough to do was to thrust one finger inside her throbbing, aching cunt. Which, of course, she did. And the immediate feeling of relief took over her entire body the minute she felt her finger inside of her. Jenna felt dirty, as she was the pastor's daughter in a small town who just met an outlaw that tricked her into all those things. But damn, it felt good to be dirty and tricked. She started to thrust slowly, giving the fact she didn't masturbated often and she was just getting used to the feeling of her own finger inside her tight pussy. But, for some reason and for the first time, it wasn't enough. She needed more, and she wanted more. Fuck, she just wanted you.

"God, this is so fucking tight..." You moaned, more to yourself than to your stream, which drove Jenna out of her thoughts. She looked at you, fucking that toy while sweat was dripping off your body, and your low moaning was captured through your microphone. You were the hottest person she has ever met in her entire life.

jenna2709: you were right, maybe this time around we do get to cum together.

Jenna typed, without feeling anxious or nervous like the previous times. She couldn't give a rat's ass anymore. She already touched herself, she gave you money for every little thing you did on stream, so why even bother? It felt good. Fuck, it felt so good and she didn't even knew why she deprived herself from that for so long. So, without thinking about it, she added a second finger inside of her, hoping it would fulfill her needs just as you would.

"Maybe next time, I get to cum in you." You were bold for saying that. But in your head, after your guys' private stream, you were both gonna fall madly in love and have a relationship that seemed right out of a movie screen. The last thing you would think about is the fact that the girl you've been thinking about for fhe past few days is, in fact, one of the actresses of a movie you're helping to produce. And one of the world's most famous and extraordinary actresses, actually. "And we both know how much you would enjoy that."

At that point, Jenna was the only one there, for all you cared. I mean, you had almost 2k people who watched you every single day, but sometimes it felt like you and her were the only ones existing in the world. I mean, your chat didn't seemed to mind, most of them were just voyeurs who got off by watching random people online, so what's the harm?

Unbeknownst to Jenna, you were already close to your orgasm. The tightness of the toy and all of the dirty talking you both have been sharing, it was getting pretty hard to hold it in any longer. So, without further notice, you decided to violently thrust your throbbing member inside of that silicone pussy, wanting to get to your high as quickly as possible. You slapped the toy's ass a couple of times, but you knew that if that was a real person (Jenna, you wanted it to be Jenna), you would be saying the most filthy things on her ear while slapping her ass until it became bruised. It killed you not being able to do that. And it killed Jenna too.

jenna2709: fuck, you look so beautiful like this.

And she wasn't any different either. Her hand was soaked by now and the two fingers weren't even close to being enough for her, but for now, they would have to do. With her spare hand, Jenna cupped one of her breasts in order to get closer and closer to her high, while her hand just aggressively thrusted inside of her tight hole. "F-Fuck, I'm almost..."

And you were almost there too, but this time, you wanted to make sure to give Jenna the best experience she could ever get. "Tell me, where do want me to cum?" You asked the whole chat, but in a way, you only wanted to hear Jenna's answer. The chat filled itself with loads of messages, some people wanting for you to come inside, other wanting for you to cum on your stomach.

jenna2709: inside of my pussy, please.

"Your wish is my command." And so you did, you came right into that toy's cunt with a loud and dragged moan, closing your eyes and thinking about how it would feel if you actually came inside of Jenna. You felt your hips spasm into the toy, while you rode out your high and tried your best not to moan any louder than you already did. Little did you know that, down the hallway, Jenna was also having her orgasm just by looking at you. She closed her eyes and thursted the hardest she could until she finally came, with a soft whimper of your name, feeling her juices oozing out of her cunt. She felt one or two tears stream down her face from that overwhelming feeling, riding out her high while looking at you, wishing you were there beside her. You pulled your cock out of that toy, your thick cum dripping down to the floor which made Jenna's mouth water again. She would commit crimes just to be able to lick your cum out of that toy.

And now, Jenna felt embarrassed again. Tomorrow at work, she would have to look at your face and act normally all over again, trying to hide the fact that you were the reason she had a mind blowing orgasm and cried while moaning your name. And also, she would have to think of a way to dodge your private stream, or face her fears and reveal her identity, risking to ruin your work environment for all of the next months that you guys would work together. Either way, she didn't wanted to do any of those two things.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $1000 with the message: consider this as a thank you.