#I FORGOT FRESH’S GLASSES TEXT TOO!!!

[mugsys]

skating rink<33

(i spent 4 hours on this and ik i was too lazy to color the bg but it better get notes..))

tumblr fucked w/ the quality..

[yanderenightmare]

TW: yandere, noncon/dubcon, angst, unwanted pregnancy, blackmail, ish-baby trapping

PART ONE only avaliable on AO3 due to Tumblr restrictions

fem reader

You went cold and forgot how to breathe.

When you got to the kindergarten, they told you his father had already come and collected him early. All looking at you as though you were crazy, assaulting the daycare workers with your hands in a bruising grip, shaking her by her shoulders—demanding she tell you where he took him. 

She spilled the name of some family restaurant down the road and said he’d wanted you to join them there. The poor thing was on the verge of tears when you let go.

Rushing out, you all but ran down the streets before pushing yourself through the doors—cold-sweating and swivel-eyed—in a panic, scanning faces with his name coming out weak under your breath. 

With your vision spinning, you felt faint before you heard it.

“Mommy! Mommy! You’re here! Look! I’m King of the castle!” he shouted, and your peeled eyes snapped to see him up high in a bright red plastic tower.

But before your shoes could hit the soft foam of the playground, you were intercepted by something larger.

“He’s fine,” he said under his breath, catching and stopping you in your beeline, holding you by the waist. “I need to talk to you.”

Something old and instinctive didn’t bother paying him heed—as if forgetting how to speak, you just ignored him in favor of pushing past him, eyes glued to the sight of your son blissfully unaware, playing with other kids with an oblivious smile on his face. But his grip was stronger than your instincts, firm enough to keep you still but not enough to hurt you, even when you tried twisting yourself free.

“Come on,” he urged.

You were about to sneer something, finally looking at his face—that face you hated—but the bark of curse words got held back.

“Look around you. Let’s not cause a scene.” The wild animal within went silent while your eyes flickered around at the surrounding picnic tables where families were having their dinner. “We can talk outside. My assistant will look after him.”

You didn’t feel much inclined to listen, but still, even though it made you hate to fold on his behest—reluctantly, you accepted the sense of what he was saying. Looking back at your son still laughing up in his tower with cinched brows. You didn’t want to scare him when he didn’t know what was going on, even though you felt the need to scream at the very top of your lungs.

You allowed him to lead you outside, but as soon as the fresh air welcomed your rigid state, you were at once whipping around and pushing him away. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” snarling at him. “How fucking dare you?!”

“Calm down. He might still see us,” he hushed, hands raised in halfhearted surrender, casting a nod to the glass walls separating you from the frivolity inside. “Let’s just talk rationally.”

“Rationally?!” you scoffed in a shout, eyes still manic. “You fucking kidnapped my son, you psycho-”

“You wouldn’t answer my texts or calls,” he snubbed. “He’s my son too-”

“Fuck you,” you interrupted to return the favor. “If you fuck with me on this, I swear I’ll ruin you.” You had a finger raised at him, breathing furiously—looking down-right mad—sweaty and disheveled from your run with your face twisted with such a state of frenzy. “I’ll tell everyone how I got him in the first place!”

Despite the threat, he didn’t seem all that fazed. 

“Think about it…” he said calmly, much in contrast to you. “Who do you think people will believe? A teenage mom abusing her son for a paycheck or his estranged father wanting to provide for him?”

You blanched, and before anything else made it out—whether it be more rage or something else, he was already further silencing you.

“Not to mention… the trial would be gruesome, and Junior would have to grow up with it always hanging over his head—is that really what you want?”

You look at him, and you still can't believe it. How could it have turned out like this? You’d been perfect only a month ago before he’d shown up at your apartment.

You thought you’d sent him on his way for good that day, but only now did you realize he had no plans to leave you alone.

“Come, let’s talk in the car. It’s cold, and you’re not dressed,” he ushered, taking your arm again where you stood, stunned and still, trying to wrap your head around his threats. Letting yourself be led into the black vehicle standing perfectly parked in its neat white rectangle.

You both got in the back with enough room to battle your homey sofa nook at home.

“I don’t want this to get ugly,” he started anew—his voice still so irritatingly calm, unfairly so. “I just want to see my son-”

“He’s not yours,” you croaked, feeling the situation slip from your fingers—battling a drumming heart, shifty breaths, and the mean sting of tears welling up in your eyes.

“If you try and keep him from me, I’ll sue for full custody. And given I’m the only one out of us who isn’t a pro-bono case and the only one with any future that isn’t managing a register, I’d say I have a pretty fair shot at winning.”

You can’t keep from bursting out crying then, overwhelmed by the fear of losing the only thing that mattered and the pure disgust of the man who’d given it to you. It felt like everything was tearing—your whole life—crumbling before your eyes.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, his hand coming to drape your hunched shoulders where you held your tears. “I don’t want to take him away from you…” His attempt did little to comfort you, but the next words had your heart grasping for what little hope they offered. “And I’m not going to either.”

You looked at him through the hurt of swollen eyes, tears still falling while he wiped them away with the course pad of his thumb—rubbing your cheek affectionately. In any other circumstance, you’d surely slap him, but right now, all you could do was listen.

“I’m buying a house,” he revealed, still holding your cheek and gaze. “Fit for a family. Safe neighborhood, good school district, giant backyard.” The list went over your head—it was all too surreal to register. You couldn’t even fathom what he was getting at until, “I want the two of you to come live there with me.”

Stunned, you remained completely silent until the tears dried, and he let go of your face. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now.” He reaches across you and fetches the seatbelt before coming back over you to click it in place. “I’ll go get Junior and drive you home. Just stay here.”

You do as suggested and stay seated as he pops his door open and leaves—feeling all but cemented in place as your thoughts go tumbling around and around as if caught in a rip curl. When Junior jumps in beside you, a farfetched smile is all you can offer. Thankfully, he’s so enamored by a toy he’d gotten to notice much of your state.

When your door opens again, you’re led out and onto your neighborhood street. The fresh air does little to clear your mind. Feeling all but feverish as you hold Junior's small hand in yours while the man of your nightmares smiles all too fondly at the two of you.

“I’ll come pick you up after your shift on Monday.,” he says decidedly—cheerfully as he ruffles Junior’s hair enough to make him giggle. “Bring the rascal with you, and he can pick his room first.”

You weren’t planning on staying. You were never planning on staying—certain you would leave the second the opportunity to skip town arose—you just need to scramble the money together first. 

But the house was huge… nothing you could ever dream of, and while it made you desperate with grief, you couldn’t deny it either… Junior really loved having a dad.

It nearly brought sick to your throat to call him that. It was a shot through the heart every time you heard Junior’s boyish call, squealing with giggles, saying “Daddy, daddy, daddy-”

None of it seemed right to you. Seeing his bright smile, now at the age where a new tooth fell out every other week—looking so goofy as he proudly shows the two of you the new one he’d just knocked out playing soccer at school. “Mommy, Daddy, look!”

What’s worse is that you can't even deny how good the man you hate is at it all—spoiling him with gifts and making him laugh—giving piggyback ride after air-plane flight after tickle-fight and a game of tag and hide’n’seek. 

And it’s not just the easy stuff. He’s good at the shit that used to make you go crazy—putting him to bed, getting him dressed, making him eat the right stuff, and not just scuffle down candy. It’s as if the two of them have developed a secret language you’re not a part of. If Junior weren’t a toddler, you’d even suspect he’d been bribed and told to do his best to make you lose your mind. But no, it’s just reality.

The man you live with drives and picks your son up from school as if he’d done it since he was born, goes with you to meet the teacher if and when he gets into trouble and helps the two of you pick out the right shoes—shoes that you can now afford, thanks to him.

“I thought I might sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” He says, leaning against the frame in the doorway.

You’d been living there a month now. He’d been generous enough to sleep in the guest room up until now.

You don’t know how to deny him. It feels as if anything you might say would just be ignored or threatened until you eventually took it back. You didn’t want him in your bed—you didn’t want him in the same house—in fact, preferably, you’d want him to be six feet deep in the dirt.

You end up not answering. But he’s used to that by now. 

“I get it…” he says, taking steps into the room you’d wrongfully thought was your safe space. “You don’t trust me.” He sits down at the edge of the bed and reaches out across the sheets. You’re too late to pull your feet to yourself before he has one in his hand. He doesn’t do much but stroke it. “But you can.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you want to gouge them out. It’s all been some cruel joke ever since you moved in—all the pleasantries and presents, as if trying to distract you from the past. Your wardrobe is chockfull of it, and so is Junior’s room—filled to the brim with lies.

“I’m never gon’ hurt you.” Another lie. “I did you wrong once, and I’ll spend the rest of my life makin’ up for it.” 

You want to shake your head, laugh in his face—anything to reject it. But you’re terrified of what he might do if you didn’t play along. The threat of losing Junior is enough to make you cooperative.

“I know I’ve not been fair—pushin’ you into all of this so fast.” He gets down on his knees on the floor as if praying, right down beside you. “I took advantage of a vulnerable situation ‘cause I’m an impatient asshole—but I promise you—” He takes your hand in both of his. “If you give me the chance, I’m gon’ make our lives together like somethin’ outa’ a fuckin’ fairytale—all that happily ever after shit and more, just like you always wanted.”

The kiss he presses upon your knuckles beckons goosebumps to rise all across you. All his words feel like a bad script read by an even worse actor—in fact, this whole thing feels like a prank. And still, it doesn’t surprise you—he’s been laughing at you ever since you were children.

And now, laughing still, only with a fucking ringbox in his hand.

“I want Junior to see us as a united front. I don’t want him askin’ question why we ain’t sleepin’ in the same bed, why we fight behind locked doors, why you cry in the bathroom.” 

He pops the black velvet lid and reveals something so outrages it almost looks tacky lying there in a plush bed of red silk.

“I want us to be happy.” He picks the little thing out and holds it up between his thumb and index, still holding your hand in the other. “I want us to be real.” You can almost see your life flash before your eyes as it threatens your ring finger. “Let’s make us real.”

You don’t say anything as he eases the tiny hoop on, sliding it all the way back until it sits snugly right at your knuckle—dazzling in the dark. A tiny tear slips down your cheek—equally dazzling.

He played some with the digit—a smile on his face. 

“Looks good on you, Mrs.” As he calls you by his last name you almost shake the ring off as if it burned to wear, but it all gets lost when he rushes forward and locks his lips with yours.

You yelp against his mouth, kept from turning away by the large hand holding your jaw, threatening to seize your throat and squeeze. You remember how it had felt. You don’t want more of a reminder, so you intercept his tongue with yours before he forced it down your throat.

He groans at the warm welcome, and your entire body shudders in memory.

You hadn’t let anyone touch you since that time five years ago. It had left a poor taste in your mouth, and the hunger for it had never come back.

You choke it down now as he climbs on top. 

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[coeurify]

THE PERFECT PAIR;

ELLIE WILLIAMS

·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."

pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. part 2 here warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k

There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?

You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.

“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.

“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”

“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”

“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.

“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.

Was it a little true? Maybe.

It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.

Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.

A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.

Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.

But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.

So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”

Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”

The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.

“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.

Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.

You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.

“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”

“Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.

“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.

“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.

“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.

“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”

You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”

“I don't want to, dude.”

The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.

When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.

“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.

“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”

The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.

“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”

Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”

Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.

You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.

“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”

You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”

Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”

Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”

Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.

The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.

“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”

Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”

“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.

“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.

“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”

Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”

The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”

Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.

The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.

Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.

“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.

“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”

Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”

The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”

Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”

“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”

The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”

A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.

els

she axe murder u?

You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.

you

why? worried abt me? 🤨

els

just wanted to see u say i was right

you

k🖕🖕

The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.

“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.

When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.

els

come over and watch smthn?

els

i got ur fave snack from the caf

You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.

“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”

You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.

“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.

“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.

els

???

You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”

Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.

None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.

You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.

Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.

Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.

Especially when you stopped answering her texts.

She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.

Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.

Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.

So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.

In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.

But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’

But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.

Yea, that’s all it was.

So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.

Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.

She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.

series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu

[liyuanhell]

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME MAKING SOMETHING LIKE THIS!!! SO PLEASE BE GENTLE WITH ME THANK YOU!!

Content: Jing Yuan x Reader, Fluff (mostly at the end), mishaps and messy schedules.

Not proofread at all.

Imagine

Having a date with the General of the Luofu.

Yet, having so many things planned on the same day.

Like..

You never meant to fully book the whole day, you planned ahead perfectly! Since you’re too busy the weekdays, you chose to have the date with him on the weekend. One day to gather energy for the date and the other day for the date itself.

But there’s one detail you forgot. You also have to attend a show you were supposed to go with your friend on the same day. However, since the date takes place at 6 pm and the performance begins at 1 pm, it shouldn’t be too difficult to—

Wait, you just got a message from someone. It's one of the members from the alchemy commision, Lingsha; relaying a message to you that you need to attend a meeting AT 2 PM?!

But, your friend already bought the tickets! And she's paying for it!! Oh well.. There's no harm in being late is there?After all, your friend did say it reaches until night.

So you texted your friend, informing her that you’ll be late. But.. what time does the meeting ends? 4 PM?!

Aslong as you won’t be late to your date and that you have enough time to have fun with your friend that’s fine! Oh dear, would it be rude to leave the performance after 1 hour and 30 minutes?

In the end, instead of being able to watch the performers peacefully and focus on the art. You spent nearly an hour trying to find your friend, who seemed to have enjoyed the show.

Good for her, you looked like mess after going through a hoard of people. It didn’t help that the general would sending occasional messages asking about your day and talking about his, along with talking about the date.

It was 5:30, you excuse yourself from the show and your friend (not like you were able to focus on it anyway due to panicking about the date.)

You notice a text from Jing Yuan that was sent 10 minutes ago; a ‘see you soon’ and a cute winking emoji.

You booked it home, and quickly got changed to something more cute but formal and rushed out immediately; completely forgetting about the make up look you planned ahead.

It was 5:50 and you are far from where you and Jing Yuan would meet up. You might aswell just jump of the ship, you thought.

It was 5:59 and Jing Yuan sits by table, which was already filled with the fresh food you liked. He made the order earlier ago as he counted the hours before the date.

A minute had passed and he hears someone approaching him. He turned his head to the side and smiled up at the sight of you. Though, he seemed amused. You were heavily breathing, hands on your knees with one hand holding a flower; looking down at the ground with a uncomfortable expression.

Shaking, your arms held out the flower you bought at the flower shop you passed by as you ran to reach the place on time.

“This.. This— is- for you.” You coughed between breathes, as you felt his fingers brushing against your hand to take the flower, earning a chuckle from him.

“Oh? How flattering of you. I shall honor this gift.” His arm then reaches from behind him, and pulls out a bouquet.

“And this is for you.” He smiles and cocks his head to the side, reaching the variety of flowers to you. You took it, and thanked him with a hoarse voice.

As you take your seat and waited for him to say something, you noticed that he seemed to be staring.

“Jing Yuan?” You called.

“You look delightful.”

That seemed to caught you off guard because in the next second your head turns to avoid his gaze, causing him to chuckle once again. The general continued to stare at your flushed expression that mixed your disheveled hair, and not to mention the strap that’s peaking behind your dress you wore with rubber shoes, and your glasses close to falling off your nose.

You must’ve been in a hurry. How cute.

Sometimes you wonder why he chose you of all people, but that shouldn’t really matter now that your here telling him about your crazy day compared to his mundane boring one as it always had been. But maybe.. You’re here to change that.

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 22 Part 1)

Word count: 18.0k

Pairings: Jake x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, Cursing, Dramatic Themes. Angst Including: Talks of Infidelity, Toxic Themes, Stalking, Arguing, Yelling, Extreme Portrayal of Sadness, Crying, Abandonment, Heartbreak, Talks of Illness, Extreme Illness, Fainting, Hospitalization, Hospital Procedures and Protocols, Talks of Death and Dying. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Fingering, Oral F!Recieving Fluff.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

JAKE POV

“How was your breakfast date…” 

She shrinks back at your words, a look of confusion crossing her face.

“My what?” she asks.

“Your date. Your breakfast date with Logan.” you say firmly.

She turns her head in shock, before turning to look back at you, “It wasn’t a date Jake. He is my friend. We just went and got breakfast and walked over to the farmer’s market across the street…”

“Sure looked like a date.” you quip.

“What? What do you mean?” she asks, shaking her head.

You pull your phone from your pocket, and pull up your texts from Danny, holding your phone towards her to take from your hand.

Her eyes scan over the glass flipping through the photos. “This is so weird. Who is taking photos of me? Why?” she asks.

“Fans. People who know we’re together. Or were.” you paused. “Went to the store. I waited all damn day for you to come back.”

“Oh god. Jake… I am so sorry, I–”

“Got caught up? Forgot we had plans when a better offer came along?” you ask, an edge to your voice.

"Jake..." she said, a flash of pain in her eyes.

She walked over to you and grabbed your hand, “Help me carry these bags into the study.” she smiles sweetly.

“What? No. We aren’t finished talking.” you respond.

“Just! Help me, please.” she says, grabbing a few bags in her hands.

You huff and pick up the remaining bags, setting them on the floor before positioning yourself on the couch.

“Was it…a date?” you ask.

“No. Not at all.” she says. “Logan and I met for breakfast, had a few mimosas, and as I was leaving I saw a farmer’s market across the street. We missed the last one because we were in Veg– well, we just missed the last one, and I wanted to go. Logan said he didn’t want me to walk alone, so he came with me.” she said, reaching for a brown paper bag on the floor. 

She opened the bag and started pulling out all kinds of fresh vegetables and fruit, way better stuff than you saw at the store today. 

“I saw these tomatoes and I remembered that spaghetti sauce you made that one time and I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe we could make it together. So I got a couple, and a few zucchini and some squash, and I thought these beets looked good too. I know you don’t cook with them a lot, so I thought maybe you could find a new recipe or something while you’re locked away in the house. We could test it and see if we like it.” she said, looking at you with eyes full of hope.

Shit. You read this completely wrong.

You let a guilty smile cross your face, and as you went to respond she smiled and started talking again, “So I kept walking down the path looking at the little booths and there was this sweet little man, and he had all these homemade pastas, and I was like, ‘okay spaghetti sauce needs pasta’ so I ended up with way too many bags, because he was so sweet and he told me about his wife and… Well we are set on pasta I think.” she smiled.

You rested your right arm across the back of the couch and let your fingers graze her neck, as she tilted her head back at your touch. She swallowed, and put the items back into the paper bag and set it on the floor. 

“So, after that Logan walked me back to my car and as I was driving home I thought, ‘wait, we can't have spaghetti with no wine’, so I stopped at that big liquor store and I found that one red you liked a few weeks ago from that restaurant. 

“You remember that?” you ask, just staring at her.

She looked at you and hesitated as she answered, “...well, yeah…”

“So dinner was all set right? As I was driving home, I passed that old music shop and decided to just peek and see if they had anything new for you. I ended up with these…” she said, pulling 3 albums from the white plastic bag, and placing them in your hands.

“Wow, some old, old motown. These are good finds. Perfect cooking music.” you smile, staring into the face of a woman who no doubt knows you better than you know yourself.

“Really? I just thought maybe something new would be fun. New memories, I guess.” she says bashfully.

“Yeah, but I like the old ones too.” you smiled, letting your thumb trail over her skin again.

“You know right next to the music store is that Page’s place, and I know hanging out at home all day can be so so boring, so I looked around for a while, and tried to see if anything really stuck out and said ‘Jake’.” she said, with a curious look on her face.

“And did anything say ‘Jake’?” you laughed.

“Yes, just these two. They kind of reminded me of that one I just finished. All in the same vein I think. I hope you don’t already have them. But if you do I can tak–”

“They are perfect. I don’t have them, and I can’t wait to read them.” you encouraged.

She grabbed them back from you and put them back into the paper bag, grabbing one final bag from the floor. 

“Okay and I made one last stop on my tour of Nashville today. But there are two things in the bag, neither of them related at all.” she giggles.

You nodded your head for her to continue. 

“Going back to the home all day thing, I thought maybe you might want to try painting a little bit? There are just the basic colors and brushes in here, but I know you are really getting into drawing again, and thought maybe painting would be a fun new outlet.”

“I have actually been thinking about that, it’s like you read my mind.” you grinned.

“Okay the last thing. Don’t laugh. I just–I just thought it would be fun. I know you’re going to absolutely kill me at it but…” she said, pulling out a large square box.

You took it in your hands with a huge smile, “Trivia?! Rolling Stones Trivia!?” you asked.

“Yeah! I saw it by the register and I was like, ‘I think…Jake needs this in his house?’” she laughed. 

You nodded your head and set it in your lap, looking into her eyes, “Our house.”

Her eyes search yours, flicking back and forth as she nods. She hands you the bouquet of flowers and smiles down at it. 

“I also picked these up for you. I know it's not typical for a man to receive flowers but, I saw them and…I thought of you.”

God. You were wrong. You were so so wrong. You didn’t even give her a chance to say anything before you started grilling her. 

“I hope you believe me when I tell you that it was just breakfast and nothing even remotely close to a date. I know what you were thinking after seeing those photos and that’s not it at all. I know what I did to you probably has you feeling like you can’t trust me and I get that. I deserve that. But I spent the whole day going around town finding things for you. For us to do together. If you want to. Things to make you happy because really, all I want is for you to be happy. But I specifically got these flowers for you because they reminded me of the ones we used to pick by the lake. And I want to keep doing that with you. I want to sit here and pick every single petal until the very last one is ‘she loves you’.”

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. She told you, time and time again, that she would never do anything to make you doubt her feelings for you ever again. And still you did. Told you flat out that she loves you and wants to spend the rest of her life with you, but as she came home tonight you were so quick to jump on her about Logan. She was right, you did have a new issue with trust, but you knew you could fix it. Mend it. Together. 

“And I am so sorry I forgot about going to the store with you. That was my fault. I should have come straight back after breakfast, but I was just thinking about waking up next to you this morning, and how a few days ago that wasn’t promised, and how scared I was for you and what if I never got to do this again…”

She started getting teary eyed talking about it, and you felt your heartstrings being pulled at the sight. She really loves you. 

“I just know things are weird with us right now, so I thought maybe I could just show you that I was thinking of you and how much I want to fix this, and hope you felt the same.”

You grab her hands and pull her across the couch into your chest. You aren’t sure but you thought you felt a tear slip out onto your shirt as you held her face to you. 

“I do. I do feel the same. Thank you, so much. For all of it. Everything.” you say rubbing circles into her back.

“So you want to then? We can make the spaghetti sauce and play the trivia game?” she asks, voice slightly shaky.

“I don’t want anything more than to do that as soon as possible.” you smile, pressing your face into the top of her head, and breathing in deeply the smell of your girl.

You release her from your grip and she pulls back from you, looking at you with pure adoration. 

“How about we get this all put away, and I will start us some dinner?” you ask, rubbing your fingers over her hand. 

She smiles and nods, collecting a few of the bags, before standing from the couch. 

You carry the bags to the kitchen and pull one of the bottles of wine you bought today from the pantry, pulling the cork, and pouring it into a glass. You reach the glass towards her and as she takes her first sip, her eyes widen and she looks at you.

“This is that one I like?” she says, shocked.

You spin around and smirk at her, “Maybe I was thinking about you today, too.”

—

As you stand at the sink, loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher you look over at her, finishing wiping off the counters. 

“I’ve got the rest.” you smiled, placing the plate on the rack.

“You sure? I can–”

“Yeah, I know you’ve had a long day.” you reply.

“I think I’m gonna go take a shower then, if you’re sure.” she says, walking over towards you.

“I’m positive. There’s hardly anything left to do.” You respond standing back up to look at her. 

“Thanks for making dinner. That chicken was so good…I would love to have that recipe.” she says.

“What do you mean, I’ve got it right here?” you say pointing to your temple.

“Well, yeah but…What if–”

“Nope. Nope. Nope. Go take a shower.” you say, whipping the dish towel towards her. 

She scurries off into the guestroom, and you toss the towel back over your shoulder as you smirk. What if… Like you’re ever letting that woman go again.

You close up the dishwasher and set the coffee maker before heading to the front door to shut off the lights and set the alarm. You glance down the hallway and see the guest room door shut, knowing she's probably in for the night, as you make your way to your bedroom. 

You step inside and turn on your lamp, as you gravitate into the bathroom for a shower of your own. You let the soapy water rinse of the guilt of earlier as your mind flutters with thoughts of her. Minutes later you are stepping out, and wrapping yourself in a towel as you brush your teeth. 

The house is still quiet as you put on your boxers and turn off the closet light. As you climb into bed you grab your glasses and one of the books she got you from your nightstand, and relax into your pillow. 

She was right, this book did have your name all over it, and you wondered how you’d never seen it before. Within minutes you are flying through the pages, hanging on the words of every sentence, pulling you into a world you could only read about. 

You heard a creak at the door, causing your eyes to dart over the top of the page. Peeking her head into the room you saw Y/N, damp hair hanging over her bare shoulders as she looked at you. 

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to bother you. I didn’t know you were reading.” she says, rooted to her spot at the door. 

You put your book down on your chest and push your glasses up, “It’s okay, what’s up?”

She takes one step closer to the door, now half of her body visible, “Well nothing. I didn’t know you were reading, so it’s okay, nevermind.” she says bashfully, stepping backwards.

“Hey, no, wait! Come here…” you say, motioning for her to come over to you.

She rocks back on her heels before stepping into the room in a barely there black silk pajama set, causing your heart rate to skyrocket. She has her pillow in her arms as she walks over to your side of the bed, and sits on the edge right in front of you.

“I was just wondering if we were gonna watch tonight…” she admits. “But I see you are reading that book, so I want to let you do that. We probably shouldn’t be watching in your bed anyways.”

You let your hand settle on her silky smooth thigh, “Baby, I was only reading because your door was shut. I thought you were going to bed. Of course I want to watch.”

“Really?” she asks.

You dog-ear your page, and fold up your glasses, setting both on your nightstand before grabbing the TV remote.

You turn off the lamp as she stands up and walks around to the other side of the bed. You pull the fluffy duvet back as she slides in, putting her pillow behind her head. Sometimes you wish it wasn’t a king. Sometimes you wish it was a queen, just so you could be closer to her. Times like right now.

You press play on the remote, happy to have her here with you after wanting her to be here all day. You kick yourself again for doubting her.

“Whatcha thinkin’ bout?” she asks, rolling on to her side, to face you.

“You. All the cool stuff you found today.” you answer, listening to the theme song play.

“Hope you like it.” she grins.

“I love it.” you say, reaching out and squeezing her hand. 

You pull your hand back but only let it drop a few inches from hers, not touching but still close.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a while, the climax of the episode just passing as she finally turns to you again.

“Do you think they’re in love?” she asks, her voice sleepy.

“Who, Scully and Mulder?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think Scully is in denial that she loves him.” she says.

“I think they both love each other but their job makes it difficult for them to have a relationship. If they pursued it, and something happened, not only would they lose each other but they would lose their investigative partner too. They are both so committed to their jobs they aren't willing to risk doing anything that might take it away from them.” you said, turning to look at her.

“But how do you know he loves her?” she asks.

“See how he looks at her when she talks? And how is always just kind of there, ready to act if something were to happen to her? I don’t know, I guess I can just tell. Same things I do, I think.” you answer.

“You think you would save me if the aliens tried to take me?” she giggles.

“Yeah, of course I would save you. Or I would make them take me, too.” you said, letting your fingers trail over her arm.

She twitched, “Ooh, don’t do that! It tickles!” she squeals.

“What, this?” you said, repeating the movement with a little more force causing her to squirm closer to you. 

“Jake! Stooooopppp…” she pleads.

You do it once more, hearing her laughter fill the room as she playfully fights you off.

The credits start to roll in the background, and you both look up at the screen. 

“One more?” she asks.

“Okay, one more…” you agree, knowing you’d watch ten more if she asked like that.

Throughout the entirety of the next episode, the two of you have inched your way closer and closer to each other, until she is practically laying on top of you. You run your fingers through the ends of her hair, as her hand rests on your stomach. Her finger tips are making small circles on your bare skin, and it is taking every single ounce of willpower to not jump her bones right here. 

She thinks you don’t notice her hand moving lower and lower on your stomach, grazing the top of your boxers with her pinky finger. Sliding the soft tip of her finger through your happy trail. You wanted her. No, needed her. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t break the rules.

As the credits rolled once again, she didn’t move. She laid perfectly still on your chest, as you reached over to grab the remote, turning the TV off. The room was left in darkness, as you resettled yourself on the pillows. 

“Are you staying? You can stay if you want to…” you whisper into her hair.

“I know I shouldn’t, I’m just so comfy…” she groans, sliding her legs together.

��Your call baby.” you reply.

“Just tonight. Tomorrow we start over. Following the rules.” she says.

“Okay. Start over tomorrow. Fresh start. All good.” you repeat back to her.

The room goes silent for a few minutes, just the sound of your heart beating in your chest, as her fingers continue to graze the elastic of your boxers. 

“I can hear your heart beating fast you know…” she giggles, sliding a finger into the hem.

“Well you have your fucking hand halfway down my boxers, and my dick is throbbing so hard they can hear it in Knoxville.” you quip.

You feel her laugh against your chest, “I should probably stop. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” she says, pulling her hand away. 

Fuck.

“It’s okay baby. Just miss you is all.” you reply, wondering how you’re going to fall asleep with this situation going on. 

You turn towards her, letting your hand cup her face as you press your lips to hers, “Goodnight.”

You know the second it happens that you fucked up, “Shit Y/N. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s just habi–”

You’re cut off by the feeling of her lips on yours, begging and pleading for you. You put your hands back on her face, pulling her closer to you as her tongue licks into your mouth. You can taste her and her mint toothpaste, as your tongues tangle together the way they have always just known how. 

You pull back from her, all panting and heavy breathing, “Baby, the rules… we aren’t suppos–”

“Do you want to stop?” she breathes.

“No.” you answer, reattaching your mouth to hers, continuing to devour her completely, in all the ways you dreamt of over the past three weeks. 

You pull your lips down the curve of her jaw, moving to hover over top of her as you press soft kisses into her neck and shoulder. You grab her arms in your hands as she writhes beneath you, her breathing telling you everything you need to know. 

You bring your head back down to her chest, placing a wet kiss on her sternum, dragging your tongue up to the hollow of her throat.

“Jake…” she breathes.

“Mhmm…” you hum.

You let your hand run up underneath the thin black silk of her tank top, ghosting your hand over her hardened nipple, before letting your thumb and forefinger pinch the sensitive skin.

“Tell me to stop, and I will…” you offer.

“We can’t…” she whines.

“But we are…” you reply, taking her nipple into your mouth. Her back arches up off the bed and a whine leaves her lips.

“Baby… god. I miss you so bad…” you say before reattaching your lips to her. 

Her hands come up from the sheets, fisting into your hair as you continue to trail kisses down her stomach. 

“Keep going Jake…” she breathes.

You run your finger under the band of her silky shorts, as her hips arch into your touch.

“What’s wrong baby? You miss me too?” you tease, pulling yourself lower on the bed, pushing the blankets out of the way.

“Yes… Yes, I miss you too…” she pants.

“Been so long…Did you forget me?” you ask, hooking your fingers into her shorts, and pulling them down her legs.

“Need me to refresh your memory?” you ask.

“Please…” she begs.

You press a kiss to her thigh, causing her hips to jerk forward again. 

“Maybe just… a little reminder of what it was like…” you taunt.

Her hand reaches for yours, holding her hip bones, twisting her finger with yours. You use your free hand to slide your middle and ring fingers through her center, collecting the wetness. 

“Mmmm… that’s my fuckin’ girl right there. Gorgeous little thing so ready for me.” you say, letting your thumb connect with her clit.

“Jacob…” she groans.

“It’s been too long hasn’t it?” you ask, letting your middle finger slide into her.

Oh shit. You feel your dick twitch in your boxers and you know that this is doing just as much for you as it is for her.

You let your finger slide against her walls, pressing into her sweet spot as her body begs for more.

You pull your finger out of her and push her legs apart as you attach your mouth to her center. You let your tongue swipe through her folds, before positioning it at her opening and pressing forward. The sounds leaving her mouth are pure ecstasy, and you wish you could bottle it for a rainy day.

You let your tongue begin to flick back and forth over her clit as you push two fingers inside of her again.

Her hand returns to your head, pulling you down onto her harder as you feel her insides fluttering. 

“Taste so fucking good baby. So fucking perfect. Never get enough of you.” you groan against her. 

You let your other hand come up and roll her left nipple between your fingers as her hips begin to buck into your mouth. 

“Jake, I’m close, I don’t want it to be over…” she whines.

“I know baby, me either. You feel so fucking good on my tongue, wanna stay here forever. But I want you to cum for me. Want to make you feel good. Miss hearing my girl say my name.” you coax.

As you continue to flick your tongue across her clit you feel her legs snap up around you, and her walls tighten against your fingers. With a blow of cold air against her clit and reattaching your lips to suck it into your mouth, your name is echoing through the house as she releases onto your tongue. She rides the high for a minute or two, before letting her legs fall back to the side. You place a kiss on her groin and slide off the bottom of the bed to the bathroom to grab a washcloth. 

When you return you see her sitting up in the bed, waiting for you to come back. 

“Here, I tried to wait for the water to warm up, I just didn’t want to be too long.” you say, handing her the cloth. 

A few minutes later she is pulling her shorts back on, and fixing the strap of her top. 

She stands up from the bed and grabs her pillow, before attempting to fix the sheets. You grab her hand as she starts to walk away, “No, nononono….please stay baby.” you plead.

She lets out a sigh, clearly conflicted about what to do. 

“The rules are already broken babe. Come back to bed. Let me hold you. Sleep so good with you here…” you beg.

She climbs back in and cuddles up next to you, letting another deep breath leave her lips.

“What’s wrong love, was it not good?” you ask.

“No, it was amazing, Jake…So good… I just…” she says, fighting off tears.

“What, tell me…” you breathe.

“I just love you so much and miss you so bad, and I feel like you’ll regret doing that in the morning. We have so much to work on and…” she says, a tear slipping out of her eye. 

“No. I will never, ever regret making you feel good. Not ever. I know we both decided we weren’t going to do that, and that we were going to take things slowly and give ourselves time. But we live together, and we are bound to slip up. It’s human nature. I’m attracted to you and you’re attracted to me. I want to make you feel good and you want to make me feel good. As long as we don’t make it a habit, I think it’s okay. At least, I’m okay with it.” you giggle.

“No, you’re right. I just…feel like I am the one who should be…making amends.” she sniffles.

“Baby you’ve already made more amends than you know. Everyday we are getting better, even if it doesn’t feel like it. A small step forward is still a step. And I need to make amends to you too.” you say.

“Okay. I’m sorry I didn’t…you know.” she said. 

“Don’t be sorry, that was as satisfying for me as it was for you. You know that is one of my favorite things. I miss you too, you know. All of you. All the time.” you say, kissing her forehead. 

She twists around in your arms, fitting her body perfectly with yours. You pull the duvet up over the two of you, before sliding your hand under her top, and letting your thumb gently glide over the set of stars marked in her skin. It’s not long before she is passed out in your arms. And as you held her close, you closed your eyes feeling perfectly content to stay right here with her, like this, for the rest of your life.

—

You startled awake, sitting up in the bed to find her gone once again. You rested back down into the pillows, a familiar smell filling your nose causing your mouth to water. Surely not…

You grab your phone and look at the texts waiting for you, deciding none of them were more important than what was going on in your kitchen at the current moment.

You threw the duvet off of you and stood from the bed, hearing your joints pop and crack. You stretched your arms over your head with a yawn, before opening the bedroom door and peeking into the hallway. Soft music was playing from the kitchen speaker as you quietly made your way down the hallway. You stopped just short of the kitchen, standing back and watching as Y/N ladled pancake batter into the skillet as she hummed along quietly to the music.

You snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist as she jumped with surprise.

“Jake! Holy shit…” she pants.

“I thought part of this deal was that we were going to listen to Sam Cooke…” you growled into her neck as she flipped the pancakes.

“It’s a Sam Cooke playlist… Does that count?” she laughs.

You nodded and released her, walking over to the coffee pot, grabbing the mug she left for you and filling it to the top. You took a seat at the island, resting your elbows on the counter as you watched her continue to cook. She peered over her shoulder at you a few times just smiling, probably feeling the same way you were feeling. 

“I’ve decided you can’t wear that anymore.” you say, gesturing to her pajamas.

“What?” she asks, turning to face you.

“That little thing…If we are following the rules you cannot wear that…” you plead.

“Why, you like it?” she smirks.

“Something like that.” you say, raising your eyebrows.

“What happens when you find out I have like 5 more in different colors?” she asks.

“I become a tortured man.” you laugh.

“Okay tortured man, come get your pancakes.” she quips.

You stack them high on your plate, ready to completely devour the meal you'd been craving for weeks. As you sit across from her at the table you look up at her, smiling as she watches you eat.

“What?” you laugh.

“Nothing, you’re just…” she trails off.

“I’m what!” you prod.

“Sweet.” she smiles.

“Sweet, huh?” you say, dipping your finger in the syrup and swiping it over her lips playfully.

“Hey!” she says, swiping her syrup finger over your lips.

You tap her cheek, leaving a sugary sweet drop on her dimple as she laughs.

Next thing you know her finger is brushing your cheek, mirroring your actions. 

You both pause, looking at each other for just a second too long before she's launching into your lap and connecting your lips to hers. You wrap your sticky hands around her waist, pulling her down onto you as your tongue tastes the sweet maple sugar on her lips. 

Your hips press up into her causing a whimper to leave her mouth. She pulls away, staring at you so closely you can see your own reflection in her eyes, “Starting fresh.”

“Yes. Starting fresh.” you say, pulling her in for one more kiss. She lets her tongue swipe across your lips before peeking in ever so slightly. Suddenly she's pulling away, and standing from your lap, leaving your noticeable erection in open view. 

Her eyes flick down to it, and her breath catches before swallowing back her emotions. 

“Thank you for the pancakes... Same time next week?”

---

HER POV

“Baaaaabe!” You hear Jake call from his study. 

“Yeaaaaah?” You call back smiling, hearing his voice call you by your favorite name in the world again, making your insides do flips. 

“Josh is coming over in a little bit! Don’t be naked or anything!” He says. 

Jesus, Jacob. You laughed as you folded the laundry on the couch. You scoffed again, picking up a giant unfolded pile of his clothes and rushing through the house. You found him relaxed back in his giant leather chair, strumming away in nothing but his boxers. You snuck behind him, dumping all the clothing in your arms overtop of him before running away. 

“You don’t be naked!” You giggled as you ran back to the guest room and locked yourself away before he could jump up and catch you. 

“Hey! What the hell!” You heard him yell and chuckle as you heard his heavy footsteps hitting the wood floor toward you. You held your ear against the door to listen to him try and get in. He jiggled the old door handle, knocking quietly right against your ear on the other side. 

“Open up, love…you can’t get away that easily…” he muttered quietly, rapping his fingernails against the door. You giggled, staying quiet to see what his next move would be. “Y/N, you can’t stay in there all day…”

“Yeah I can, I’ve been doing it for the past few weeks…don’t underestimate me, babe.” You said through the door. 

You spoke on deaf ears, hearing his footsteps trail away. Ah. Guess he doesn’t want to play anymore. You walked backwards to the bed, sitting on it gently still waiting for something to happen. 

A few seconds later you heard the handle rustle again, as you watched it turn in completion, and the door slowly push open. He stood in the threshold, left arm full of wrinkled laundry, and his right hand lighted high, holding something small that hung from an old long piece of leather string. 

“You forget I’ve got a skeleton key, love?” He said through a sly smile. 

Oh shit. 

The pile of laundry was suddenly thrown back on you, making a mess of your perfectly made bed. He ran back out of the room as you gathered the clothes and ran off toward him for your revenge. You found him seated on the couch where you just were, silently folding the laundry left behind. He raised his eyebrows to you, knowing that he was in a place that you couldn’t get him. 

“Touché, Jake. Touché.” 

Just then you heard knocks on the front door as you saw the poof of Josh’s hair poke inside. “Hello! Anybody home? I come bearing gifts!”

You walked toward the door, meeting him there and taking a few things from his hands. “Hey! What’s going on?” You greeted him with a smile. 

“Nothing just stopped by the store and thought Jake might want these.” He said, pulling a pack of something out of a brown bag. Jake trodded into the kitchen, still in just his boxers, and started digging around in the bags. 

“Here, look what I found!” Josh said, throwing the pack through the air to Jake. He caught them and read the packaging. 

“Pedialyte popsicles?! I didn’t even know they made these!” Jake said, rushing to the freezer to throw them in. 

“Me neither. We used to tear a whole pack of those things up in one day as kids. Mom would keep extras in the freezer all summer long, remember?” Josh said, pulling more things from the bags. “And you’re probably still dehydrated, so. It’s a win win!”

“Thanks brother, I’m actually very excited to eat those. How are you feeling?” Jake asked. 

“Much better…my throat, though.” He said, grabbing across his neck. “Still scratchy as hell. I’m actually glad that we decided to take some time. I would’ve sounded like shit.” 

“You always sound like shit.” Jake quipped, popping some cashews into his mouth. 

“Fuck you, you sing then.” Josh said. 

“No, I don’t want to. I can’t anyway.” Jake said, pulling some gatorades from the plastic holder. 

“Yes you can, Jake are you joking?” You added. “You should hear yourself in the shower.”

He blushed a little. “Ahh, nah. Not my forte, unfortunately. Maybe one day.”

“One day like the next album, one day?” Josh said, silencing the room and raising one eyebrow to Jake. 

Jake stood puzzled. “Uhh, probably not, why? What is that brain of yours cooking up now?”

Josh stole the can of cashews from Jake’s hand. “Oh nothing, just had some cool thoughts about the next round.” 

“Uh huh, and?” Jake pressed. 

“I dunno. I’ve been wanting you guys to all sing with me for a long, long time. I know you know you can sing. Danny absolutely doesn’t care to, Sam only agreed to backup, which is good too. I dunno, the fans always go nuts when you even speak, thought it might be cool to do something a little more intimate maybe.” You watched Jake’s face as he listened to Josh talk, his own wheels spinning. 

“Like something acoustic?” He added. 

“Exactly.” 

“Hm. That might be a really neat switch up. Very interesting.” He said, leaning his elbows on the countertop. “Could bring back some oldies, even…” 

“Yes, I was thinking that too. We already know the basic premise of this next one, and how we wanna do it. It’d be really cool to touch back to the past a little bit. Really reconnect with the roots of things, you know?” Josh said, licking his teeth. “Anyway, that’s for a later discussion. Just thought I’d put it in your head.”

“I’ll definitely think about it. I hate to be a bad host, but I’m gonna go take a nap. These meds are still kicking my ass.” Jake said, running his hand through his hair. 

“Goodnight brother.” Josh said, continuing to pull some random items out and put them into the fridge. 

“You can hang out, Josh. If you wanna. I’m just bustling around the house today.” You said, wanting some company from him. You still felt like you needed to continue to connect with Josh, letting him see that you were serious this time. 

The two of you went to sit on the porch, taking a couple of wine spritzers with you. Josh insisted that they were good, so you pulled out the red that Jake had gotten you last night and threw a little ice and sprite overtop. To your surprise, he was right. 

“It’s warm today, huh?” He said, making his way to the porch swing.

“Yeah, it is. Kinda weird for March…” you let the conversation rest while you swang, watching the barren tree limbs sway in the wind. “Josh, I have a question. And be honest, okay?” You said, turning to face him. 

“Okay, shoot.” He said. 

“Do you think I should really come on tour with you guys? I mean, after everything, and Jake and I wanting to give each other space…I don’t know. I didn’t tell him I was thinking about it, but. I just wanted your opinion.” You relented. 

He sighed, tilting back the last of his spritzer. “You kind of don’t have a choice, babe. Remember that little piece of paper you signed?” He winced, not wanting to remind you of your contract. 

Shit. “Yeah, I remember that. I just…want to give him what he needs. And if I’m there all the time, ya know.”

“I know. I get it. Maybe this can be like, your all’s first challenge together. If you’re both wanting to grow and start fresh, this can be what tests you the most. Maybe look at it like that.” He said, offering an alternative thought process. “Maybe look at it as a blessing in disguise, that you each still get to be with your favorite person, watching over each other  while growing together. Growing into the person each of you needs. Think of it like that.” He smiled. 

Hmm. You really hadn’t looked at it that way. 

“That’s actually a good way to put it, Josh. Everything with us has always been cut and dry, we’ve given each other more heartache than I care to admit. Me more on the giving side of it than him. And I don’t know, I’m just. Ready to be away from that version of myself.” You said, being completely honest. “I’m tired of her. I’m too young to be wasting my good years on being a bad person.” 

He looked to the sky again, before he took a short breath. “Do you love yourself, Y/N?” 

Your face fell. Your stomach fell, your entire body felt shifted by that question. Wow, you’d never asked yourself?

Your expression scrunched up. You looked away into the trees again as the breeze picked up, pushing some forgotten leaves across the yard. 

“No, Josh. I don’t think I do…” you whispered, admitting it to yourself and him at the same time. You felt a spring of tears well up in your eyes, drowning your eyesight. 

You felt his hand rest on the back of your neck, his touch feeling similar to Jake’s, but in a more comforting way. “Well then, how do you expect to give all your love to him when you don’t even have enough to give yourself?” 

The tears fell harder now as you nodded, looking to him while catching them as they tumbled. “You’re right, I’ve never…I’ve never thought of that. Like that, before…I guess.” 

“Y/N, when was the last time you felt truly happy with yourself, by yourself, alone? Like everything was gonna be okay, everything was going to positively work out?” He asked, his fingers grazing your neck. 

You thought long and hard over the past few years, all the ups and downs, all the heartache. All the terror from Andy, the uncertainty with Sam, and with Jake, and the world you more recently chose to put yourself in. The one that brought you nothing but heartache. The bad decisions and the good ones, the true happiness and the times you put only yourself first instead of everyone else. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” You shook your head, truly unable to answer him. “I don’t think I can remember, Josh.”

He brought his lips between his teeth and bit them hard. “Well then, let’s start there.”

You looked to him, feeling confused. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s figure out ways to make you love yourself again. I know it’s in there, we’ve just gotta find it.” He said again through a smile, shaking his glass of watery ice. 

“We?” You asked. 

“Yeah, we. Us. We don’t have to tell anybody. Just our secret.” He said, training his eyes on the clouds moving quickly over the sun. 

You felt overcome. You didn’t deserve this…didn’t deserve him and his kindness. 

“Josh, I can’t let you do that, help me like this. I- this is my shit, not yours.” You complained.

“Shh. You love my brother, right?” He asked. 

“Yes, more than anything in the world.” Honestly. 

“And so we’re family, right?” He asked again. 

“Right, yes. But, Josh, you still should hate me right now, be so disappointed in me that you could hardly stand to be around me, the way I hurt him.” You said. 

“Hate is a big word, Y/N. And I don’t have enough room in my heart for it. I’d rather fill it up with good things, with love and acceptance. So that’s what I’m going to do for you. Fill my heart back up with love for you, even though it’s going to take me a while. I’m human. I’m still disappointed in you.” He sipped from his glass. “But I’ll take that journey. As long as you can promise me you’ll fill your heart back up with love for you. Does that make sense?” 

You nodded. “I think so, yeah, it does…”

“Love’s a two way street. And you owe it to him to give yourself enough grace to find it yourself. So you can repay him. He’s not at all innocent, either but. That’s another conversation.”

The two of you continued to swing, falling silent again as you watched birds walk through the grass, the cold ground giving them little sustenance. 

“You know Josh, they really don’t make them like you anymore, seriously. You’re a one in a million person. And I’m truly thankful for you.” You said, already feeling more at peace than you had in a while. 

He started laughing. “What? What’s so funny?” You asked, your remnant tears turning into giggles. 

“The universe didn’t make me one in a million, babe. It made me two in a million.” He joked. 

“Shut up!” You said, pushing his shoulder, laughing as hard as him now. 

“We’d be too much for one earthly body to handle anyway, yeah?” He said, throwing the rest of his now watered drink into the grass. 

“Yeah. I’m glad you guys split up in the womb. Now I can love you both double time.” You gave him a cheesy smile. 

He grinned hard. “Just make sure you give him a little bit more, okay? Promise?”

“I promise, Josh.” You put your hand over your heart. He clinked his empty glass with yours. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re only half of a person?” You asked him, catching him off guard. 

“Um, yeah actually. Sometimes.”

“When?” You pressed. 

“When I haven’t been around Jake in a while…I start to feel kinda. Strangely incomplete…? I guess is the best way of putting it. And like my compass starts to go haywire…”

“Like you never know which direction to take? Because none of them make sense until you’re back with him?” You answered blankly, eyes fixed on a knot in the wood of the porch. 

“Yeah, exactly like that, actually…Why?” he trailed off. 

You perked up, moving your eyes to meet with his. “No reason, just. Wondering.” 

“Shall we have another?” He asked. 

“Absolutely, if you’re offering!” You said, getting up to follow him back into the house. 

After mixing another round, you both retreated back to the porch swing again, talking about life and music and traveling, all the places you were excited to visit. 

“Have you ever kept a journal, Y/N?” He asked. 

You crunched a large piece of ice. “No, I don’t think I have. Not since I was a kid.”

“Maybe you should. Might help you out a little. Also would be cool for my nieces and nephews to have a day-by-day account of their parents’ journey on the Dreams in Gold circus, huh?” He said, raising his eyebrows and drink into the air. 

You felt your body warm, and your cheeks grow pink, the lump in your throat growing too large to ignore.

“I’ll go get one tomorrow. Promise.”

——

After a couple more spritzers and really good conversation with Josh, you found yourselves relaxed still on the porch swing, letting the warm air take you away. You’d thrown your legs over his lap now as you swung, talking more and more about nothing at all. The sun was beginning to set, and the warm glow of the early spring sunlight was illuminating everything it touched. 

“Your eyes turn caramel in the sun just like Jake’s do.” You told him as he swung. 

“Ah, thank you dahling. Aren’t they pretty?” He joked as he flicked his long eyelashes at you over and over. “Speaking of, that jackass has been asleep for hours. He sleep like this a lot?” 

“Yeah, his medicine makes him exhausted. I’m just glad he’s resting.” You said. 

“Yeah, me too. Hey, yoga tomorrow at 9am. Wanna go?” Josh asked. 

You sighed. “Yeah, sounds good to me. Gotta start somewhere, huh?”

“Yep. You’ll love it, I promise. Also, what do you think about maybe doing a family dinner tomorrow? Like old times, everybody really misses each other.” He suggested. 

“Oh, yes please! I think that would be great. I miss family dinners. Everyone can come here?” you said. 

“Perfect! You think Jake will be up for cooking?” He asks. 

“He will be if we tell him he is…” you laughed, sipping the last of your spritzer. 

——

JAKE POV

You can hear her voice, it's muffled and jumbled and you can’t quite make out any words, but you know it’s hers. You can almost picture her, floating above you reaching her hand out to have you follow her into an unknown place where the two of you can just exist together, and nothing bad ever happens. 

Your eyes crack open, the room bathed in the light coming in between the curtains. You yawn as you realize how long you had slept. You heard her voice again, and figured out her voice was drifting into your dream, as she sat on the porch talking to Josh. He must not have left after you went to sleep. 

You got up and walked over to the front door, but just as you were about to open it you stopped yourself. Whatever they were talking about seemed almost…private. You peeked out the window and saw him talking to her, using his hands as he explained whatever it was they were talking about, and you smiled. You loved seeing him talk to her. Bond with her. You hoped he loved her too. 

As you walked up the stairs you let your mind drift off, wondering what would have happened if you never left that hospital. Would he have helped her? Would she have helped him? Would they have made it through something like that? You couldn’t imagine the roles reversed. You’d never be the same without him. 

You walked into the spare room, sitting down at your desk, so carefully crafted with art supplies, seeing the new paint and brushes sitting at the top. You smiled, thinking back to last night, and how excited she was to show you all of the things she bought you. It felt good to know that you were on her mind just as much as she was on yours. 

You knew your fans were on pins and needles waiting to hear any kind of update after the cancelation of the shows. You were going to write to them, and tell them everything. Give them hope that you would be back, and stronger than before. Because truthfully, you would. 

You grabbed a pen and your sketchbook, opening it up and flipping through to find the first blank page. You spent the next thirty minutes meticulously crafting a letter of hope and resilience in the face of uncertainty, and you hoped your message came through. You signed your name with all the love you had, and capped your pen, carefully tearing the page from the book. 

As you went to close the book, you flipped through, seeing a few old drawings you started and abandoned, telling yourself you'd come back to them one day, but always having a reason not to. But one, your favorite one, was finished. You stared at it, taking in the curves of her body as you drew them that night from memory, wishing now, that you could go back.

Something caught your eye in the very bottom left hand corner, something that looked like pencil markings from the other side of the paper. Puzzled, you flipped it over to find something that tore your heart to shreds with the first words.

To my Jake…

I never knew you’d drawn this…drawn me, in such a perfect way that I really don’t resemble in the least. 

If I could re-pose, and have you draw me from memory again, I’d be filled with holes, and tears and scratches…because that’s how I feel right now. Like I don’t deserve to be looked at in the light that you always saw me in. 

I’m so sorry I did what I did.

I’m so sorry I can’t take it back.

And I’m so sorry I never got to be the picture of perfection that you always said I was.  

Thank you for being the best thing in my life.

I’ll never love another thing as much as I love you..

You’ll never leave my mind.

She loves you, always.

Then perfectly at the bottom, a lyric from the song you danced to in the kitchen, not long before both of your worlds were changed forever. 

‘Honey, nothin’…nothin’ can ever change this love I have for you…’

It felt like your heart had been ripped from your chest. How could she ever think she was anything less than perfect? Sure she had made her share of mistakes but you didn’t realize how deep those wounds were for her. She had to have written this before you left for Michigan. When you left her here sad and alone without a second thought. Before you said all of those terrible things. You had only made it worse for her. 

 You knew she wrote this with hopes that one day you would find it. That one day when she was long gone and a distant memory, maybe you’d forgive her for what she did. She never thought it would be this soon, or that she’d still be here, or that you’d already forgiven her. Though you hadn’t told her that, it was true. It was true the second you saw her in that hospital. 

You gently ripped the page from the leatherbound book and read it over and over, her heartfelt ode to you made in some of her darkest days. You pushed your chair back standing and grabbing your letter and hers, making your way downstairs. You found your way into your study, examining the walls, looking for a frame to repurpose. You grabbed the thick gold frame near the door, and popped the back off of it, pulling the magazine cover out and tossing it on the couch. You grabbed her letter, and placed it inside before securing the back again and hanging it on the wall. 

You took a step back and swallowed your emotions, seeing her love for you, physically hanging on the wall in front of you. Something you could look at every single day and know was real. 

You grabbed the old magazine and placed it on your bookshelf, before grabbing your letter and clearing your throat. You walked to the front door twisting the knob and stepping out into the slightly warmer than normal air. 

“Well there he is…” Josh crooned.

“Yeah, yeah, I told you, that shit makes me tired.” you said, stepping up to the two of them on the swing.

“So I wrote this, I was going to post it on my instagram later if you think it’s okay.” you said, nervously handing the note to Josh.

He raises his eyebrows at you and begins to read it. You nervously flick your eyes over to Y/N, seeing her pink cheeks and a buzzed smile on her lips.

“Sleep okay?” she grins.

“Yeah, was a little cold though.” you say sending her a wink.

“I think this sounds great Jake. But I have to ask which version of Thesaurus you’re using, because I don't think mine has some of these words in it.” he says handing the paper back to you.

“Kiss my ass.” you quip, snatching the paper from him. 

“Can I read it?” she asks looking up at you.

You hand it to her watching her eyes read over each line. 

“It’s perfect Jake.” she smiles.

“You think I should post it?” you ask.

“Yeah, people are going to absolutely flood your socials though, but you already know that.” Josh laughs.

“That I do.” you smile. “Okay, I’m gonna go post it and then…I’ll start on something for dinner. Josh you staying?” you ask.

“Nah, I’m about to head out, but hey, I’ll swing by tomorrow and pick you up okay?” he says, tapping Y/N’s knee. 

“Yep! I’ll be ready!” she smiles, both of them standing up from the swing. 

“Later!” he says, skipping down the steps to his car. 

You open the front door, letting her walk in as you wave him off and shut the door behind you.

—

You watched the comments filled with love and encouragement roll in as you sat at the table eating. You flipped your phone over, and continued to eat, as she looked over to you.

“Does it ever get annoying?” she asks.

“What, my phone?” you ask.

“Yeah, just the constant notifications and stuff.” she says.

“No, not annoying. You just have to know how to manage it and you’re golden. There were once days where we wished people would just leave one comment on our post. Just like one of our videos. Share our music with their friends. Now look. I wish I could respond to every single comment or message but, I would be buried in seconds. I just mute my notifications, and when I get bored I will look through them. Usually on the bus after a show when my adrenaline is still high. I see people's posts from the shows and all that. Kind of exciting. Feels like we made it, ya know?”

“Jake, you guys are playing with Metallica in a few weeks. You’ve most definitely made it!” she laughs. 

“Yeah, that’s true. Sometimes I can’t believe it myself. I always wonder what life would be like if we never made it out of the garage. If I never dragged Josh and Sam in there in the first place.” you ponder.

“Guess we’ll never know.” she says, smiling. 

“Oh, Josh and I were talking about maybe reinstating family dinner night?” she says.

“Were you… I was wondering what you two were talking about out there.” you reply.

“What do you think about everyone coming over here tomorrow night. Danny and Sammy miss you.” she says, knowing exactly how to pull on your heartstrings.

“Mmmm…Okay, yeah I can probably do that.” you agree. 

“Maybe we can make that spaghetti sauce tomorrow and have that for dinner?” she asks.

“You wanna help me make it?” you ask.

“Yes!” she says.

“Are you sure…It takes all day…” you taunt.

“Yes, Jacob…” she grins.

“Okay. Sounds like a plan. I can text the guys.” you say grabbing your phone.

“I’m going to yoga with Josh in the morning, then I am your sous-chef all day…”  she says as she grabs your empty plate. “I’ll clean up tonight. You go relax.” 

“You sure, love?” you ask.

“Yep, take a popsicle!” she giggles.

“You know what I think I will.” you say, opening the freezer and tearing one from the package. You stare at her for a second, dying to kiss her, but taking a deep breath instead and turning on your heels to head down the hallway.

—

A little while later as you are flipping through the pages of your book, you hear the guest room door open and smile. You sit up in your bed and push your glasses onto your head, folding the page to keep your place. 

A few seconds later you hear a gentle knock at your door and see her head peek in. 

“Jake?” she calls out.

“Hello stranger…” you reply.

She steps into the room, in a big t-shirt and a pair of shorts, her hair hanging damp around her shoulders. 

“Just coming to see if my nightly attire is more suitable for your liking.” she says.

“Come here, let me get a better look.” you tease.

She walks over to the side of your bed, sitting on the edge as you look her up and down. 

“Well, this is one of my favorite things to see you in, though I prefer the no shorts version.” you say tugging on her shirt. “This definitely leaves more to my imagination, though to be completely honest I am still picturing you in the other thing, so it doesn’t really matter.” you laugh. “I’m wholeheartedly convinced you could wear a potato sack and I would still want you.”

She laughs and pushes your shoulder back, seeing the book on your chest. 

“Do you like it? Is it good so far?” she asks.

“It’s so good. So so good, can hardly put it down.” you admit. 

“You want to just read your book tonight? Those drinks earlier have me feeling a little sleepy anyways…” she says.

“Whatever you wanna do baby, up to you.” you answer. 

“I mean, I really do want to watch our show but I don’t know if I will even make it five minutes if I lay down in this bed…” she says. 

“So?” you question.

“So, we can’t keep sleeping together…” she says.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Because…I don’t know… we aren’t together. We shouldn’t be sleeping together. I don’t know, it makes sense in my head. It’s been like every night since we got back…” she tries to reason.

“Hmmm. I see your point. But the first night was an accident, and last night was… well, whatever that was. If you want to sleep separately that's fine, I just…know we both sleep better together.”

“Well I don’t want to, but I feel like we have to.” she says.

“I’m playing by your rules here, so again, your call, I'm fine either way.” you respond. 

“Okay, how about we watch one, but if I fall asleep you wake me up, and I will go to the guest room?” she asks.

“Okay.” you nod.

“Okay.” she says.

You close your book and glasses and set them on the nightstand, turning on the TV and turning off your lamp. She walks around to the other side of the bed, claiming her place as the episode starts. 

By the 10 minute mark you look over and see her completely passed out. She wasn’t kidding. You pause the episode and turn off the TV, pulling the blankets up over her arms as a gentle snore leaves her chest. 

You reach over and grab your book and glasses, turning the lamp back on, careful to see if it wakes her up, and when it doesn't you find your place in your book and listen to her quiet breathing as you drift back into the pages. 

An hour or so later, you find your eyelids growing heavy, and she has barely moved. You put your things back on the nightstand, and turn off the lamp. You roll over towards her, and smooth your hand over her peaceful face, causing her eyelids to crack open. 

“Hey baby…you fell asleep…” you whisper.

She groans as she shuts her eyes closed tight. 

“Do you want to go back to your room?” you ask. 

“Noooo….” she whines. 

“You told me to wake you up. You don’t want to sleep in here with me, remember?” you say, trying to gently remind her. 

She doesn’t respond, instead grabbing your hand to try and quell you. 

“Y/N…” you whisper.

“Shhhhh…..” she breathes pulling herself closer to you. You feel guilty that you’re letting her go back on what she said she wanted but you weren’t going to pass this up.

Giving it one last attempt you run your hand up her arm, “You want me to carry you in there?” you ask.

“No, gonna stay here…” she mumbles.

You give in, wrapping your arms around her, pulling her tightly into you as you feel her body relax. 

“Don’t want you to be mad at me in the morning, love.” you breathe.

“Not mad. Start fresh tomorrow. Start over tomorrow…” she says, right before falling back asleep.

You pull her close to rest on your shoulder, kissing her forehead as you release a relaxed breath, “Yeah baby, we can start fresh tomorrow…”

—

The sound of rummaging in your closet woke you from your dreamless sleep, and the blurriness that covered your eyes only half revealed her silhouette fingering through your hangers. 

“Whatcha doin sunshine?” You growled, chest still heavy from the lingering cough. 

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m just…heading to yoga with Josh and I was gonna borrow a flannel. It’s not cold enough for a jacket, and not warm enough for nothing…ah, here it is.”

You grinned as you sat up, finally seeing her full figure in plain view. “And who says you can steal my clothes anytime you want?” You joked. 

She slipped the oversized shirt on her arms as she walked toward your side of the bed, clad in tight black leggings and a beige sports bra. You felt your eyes grow huge as she came into better view. 

“The person that does all your laundry, I’d suppose.” She winked as she tapped your nose with her pointer finger. 

“Uhh, are you wearing that? To yoga? Can I come? I don’t want to participate I just wanna…y’know, watch…” you had no shame in letting your eyes travel up and down her body, taking in the sight of her. 

“There’s not much to watch, Jake. What do you mean?” She asked as she sat on the bed to slip on her tennis shoes. 

“I dunno, you just look…really good…today.” You felt your mouth salivating as you watched her bend to tie her shoelaces, an act so mundane but had you absolutely enraptured. Yeah, you’ve still got it bad. So, so bad. 

She stood up from the bed, turning to face you again. Her barely-covered midriff was right in front of your face, and it took everything in you not to wrap your arms around her, grab her ass and pull her forward…

“Well thank you, babe. That’s nice. And yes, you can come to yoga, but you have to participate. And I don’t think you want to do that, do you?” She said softly, trailing her fingertip lightly down your cheek and under your chin, lifting it to look her in the eyes. You felt yourself physically gulp. 

“No, but can you show me what you learned when you get home tonight? Maybe like, don’t change clothes…and maybe, here, on the bed?” You rubbed your hand along the sheets, smiling as you talked your talk. 

She giggled hard. “No Jake, that’d be breaking the rules. But maybe once I’m an expert, I can show you what I’ve learned without my workout clothes on. You know… how flexible I’ve gotten?”

Jesus Christ…

“Yeah. Yes, please. Go on, you’re gonna be late. Go become an expert, like... Tomorrow. Go…” you pushed her out of the way, urging her to go in before you let your urge get the best of you. 

“I’ll see you later, don’t forget your pills! Last ones and you’re a free man!” She laughed as she bounded out your bedroom door, her braid swinging down her back as she left. 

HER POV

You climbed into the passenger side of Josh’s car at promptly 8:35am, throwing your backpack into the backseat. 

“Morning! I got you a juice from that new place downtown, they’re so fuckin' good, I had to share.” He said, pointing to the cup holder. 

“Oh my god, Josh! That’s so nice of you, you didn’t have to do that!” You said, picking up the small cup full of bright green liquid. “What’s in it?”

“I dunno, kale and greens and carrots and shit. But it’s really good. I’m keeping it a secret from Sam so he doesn’t claim he found out about it first.” He said, pulling his sun visor down to block the morning rays. “So, you can buy your mat there, they sell nice ones for pretty cheap. And you’ll get to meet our instructor, Ms. Opal. She’s been doing this for like 25 years. She owns the place, too.”

“Perfect. I’m really excited!” But you were also nervous, and anxious to be starting something so new, and so out of your comfort zone. But you had Josh by your side, so you knew it was going to be great no matter what. 

He drove you down some backstreets that twisted and turned, until you finally pulled through a cluster of old Oak trees, revealing a tiny cottage-like structure that looked too old to be in the middle of the now bustling town. It had an old wooden front porch, an orange door, and wind chimes hanging from the roof of the porch, catching the sun and sending tiny rainbows all over the parking area. 

There were a few other cars there, but not many. As you walked inside, you could smell the faint smell of patchouli and Nag Champa, and the sound of peaceful flute music playing from a room in the distance. All of the doors and windows were open, despite the chilly morning air. Immediately upon entering the cottage, you felt an overwhelming peace that you could hardly even describe. 

“Joshua, my love! How are you this morning? I thought you wouldn’t be joining us for a few months?” A middle-aged woman came floating into the room, two long gray braids falling in front of her shoulders, her dark-complected face worn with years of smiling too much. She brought Josh into a big and friendly hug, her presence and energy matching Josh’s so perfectly you could cry. 

“Morning Ms. Opal…little change in plans, we’ll be here for a little bit longer. Ah, this is my friend, well, sister, really. Y/N.” He introduced you. “We’re going to do the beginner’s class today.”

“Hello, child. A beginner, hmm? It’s so great to meet you!” She brought you in for a warm hug, too, moving her hand up and down your back like she’d known you for years. “I hope you’re excited to be here, it’s a beautiful morning. And, the moon is a waxing crescent tonight, perfect timing to bring her to me, Joshua.” She winked to him. 

“I am excited, ma’am. It’s so nice to meet you, too.” You offered her your kindest smile. Josh walked you over to pick out the perfect new mat, and to enroll you in the beginners classes. You entered the room, along with just a few other people who seemingly didn’t know, or didn’t care, that they were in the presence of a famous rock star. You flattened your mat out in the corner. Josh placed his mat and himself next to you taking a seat at the base of his mat. 

He looked your way, giving you a soft smile. “You ready?”

——

JAKE POV

The security system chimed as the front door opened, your eyes shooting to the clock on the wall. 

Shit.

You jumped up from the couch and turned off the TV knowing she was going to be stepping in any second. You looked around the room looking for anything you could pick up to make it seem like you were productive while she was gone, and hadn’t sat on the couch flipping through Premier League games all morning. 

“Hi!” she says, tossing your flannel on the couch.

“Hey, how was your yoga class…” you said, resting against the door jam.

“Actually, it was so great. I wasn’t sure about it but, the instructor was so nice and so helpful, and Josh really knows his stuff too. I will definitely be going back.” she smiled.

“You were gone for a while, how long are those things?” you joked.

“Oh, it was only an hour but I stopped at the store to get this…” she said, pulling a small blue journal from a plastic bag. “Josh said he thought it might be helpful for me to keep a journal, so… we went and got one after class before he dropped me off.” 

“Cool baby…He has always had one, not surprised he suggested that.” you laugh. 

“Yeah, might be cool to look back on one day and see what was going on in our lives.” she said, walking over to you. 

“We gonna start that sauce soon?” she asks, stepping in front of you. 

You let your hands grip into her bare waist and pull her closer, “Mmmhm…but you…are gonna have to change or stay far, far away from me.” you growl.

“You have seen me wear this stuff a million times Jake, what is your deal?” she laughs. 

“Well, seeing you in it and knowing I can’t have you makes it about a million times worse.” you admit, sliding your hands down to her hips.

She sighs and steps back, heading towards the guest room, “Hopefully soon…I’m gonna take a shower, then we can start okay?”

You nod your head and release a deep breath as you watch her disappear into her room, wishing you were the one taking her clothes off.

—

Sadly, she did change, but still she was tempting you, in a little green dress you’d seen before, years ago. It tied at her shoulders and hit just at the middle of her thigh. So simple but still had your brain begging you to take it off of her. 

You stood at the island finishing chopping the vegetables to dump into the simmering sauce, as she prepared the salad and put it in the fridge. 

“It smells so good, I am starving…” she whined. 

“It is always hard to wait, but it’s always worth it.” you winked.

“Should we do something with those beets tomorrow?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah, I will google some recipes tonight and we can pick. Sound good?” you ask.

“Before or after our show?” she smiles.

“I don’t know, someone couldn’t keep their eyes open last night. Didn’t even make it ten minutes…” you quip.

“Ugh, I know…but I told you I didn't think I would…” she says, placing the cutting board into the sink. 

“Mmhmm… then you didn’t want to leave…” you said, flicking your eyes up to her as you slid the vegetables into the pot. 

She turned around quickly pretending to ignore you. 

“You know you don’t have to stay in the guest room…” you lilt.

“No. No. I do.” she says, trying to convince herself. You smirk as you shake your head, wondering how much longer it will be before she caves. 

“Okay baby, whatever you want.” you say, stirring the aromatic sauce. 

She makes her way over to the pantry, grabbing a bottle of red wine from the shelf and spins to face you with a smile.

“Is it time?” she asks, cheerfully.

“Yeah lover, go ahead I’m not stopping you.” you encourage. 

“Well, you finished your pills…You can have some with me?” she asks.

“Oh yeah, I guess you’re right aren’t you?” you say rubbing your chin, “Pour me up, we can toast to good health.”

She grabs two glasses from the cabinet and hands you the bottle to remove the cork. She takes it back from you pouring the crimson wine into the glasses. 

You each take one and tap them together, as she smiles and says, “So glad you didn’t leave us Jake…”

You sip the sweet red and look at her, “Could never leave my girl…”

—

As the sun started to set, a knock at the door had both of you turning to look. 

“I’ll grab it.” you said, mind already fuzzy from just two glasses of wine. Damn had you really been out of the game this long?

You twisted the knob seeing Sam and Elle bounding inside with smiles on their faces. Elle wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tight. “Oh my gosh! You look so much better Jakey, so glad you are feeling better!” 

She let go and scampered off to the kitchen to find Y/N. Sam stepped in and shut the door behind him with a nervous smile.

“Hey Sammy boy…” you said, voice a little gravely.

“Jake.” he nods.

You saw his lips turn upward with hope, his eyes still flicking around, nervous to make eye contact with you. He thinks you hate him. Time to fix this.

“Hey come in here with me real quick.” you said, nodding towards the study.

He swallows nervously and follows you inside, sitting down on the couch. You walk over to the bar car and hold up a bottle of scotch towards him, “Care to partake?” you ask.

He shrugs his shoulders and nods, as you grab two glasses and pour a finger of the alcohol. You walk over to the couch taking a seat next to him as you hand him his glass. 

You let out a deep breath as you relax into the cushion, “Listen Sammy, I know things seem fucked up. They are. I know I was harsh the other night, I was still really mad. At you, at her, at myself for how I reacted. At the situation I was in. I have had a little bit of time to think about it and I just need you to know that I forgive you. I’m not saying that it’s okay, it’s definitely not, but I am saying I want to move forward. Y/N are working through this. I want you and I to work through this. You're my little brother. My band mate. I don’t want you to feel like you need to walk on eggshells around me. Everything's out in the open now. Part of me feels just as guilty for planning to sleep with your girl. None of us are innocent. I love Y/N, and I love you, and I want all of us to be happy again, okay? I found out that life is short, and I’m not gonna spend it hating two of my favorite people.”

He nods his head and sips the scotch, “I really am sorry Jake. Neither of us were in our right minds. We both knew it was a mistake. I know that both of us wish we could take it back. I know that we can’t, but I can tell you I’m sorry, really truly sorry. In the hospital… shit Jake, you scared me so bad. I kept thinking about losing you and what I did, and how it left you and Y/N, and you couldn’t even see her and… I never hated myself more than in that moment. I begged God or whoever was listening to let you pull through. To not let you lose that lung. Just wanted to hear you tell me to fuck off one more time.” he laughed. 

“Anyways, I’m planning to talk to Elle about it soon. Want to clear the air with everyone, make things right. Whatever that is going to cost me. Want to do right by you, too. Need to keep you around. Not gonna do this life without ya.” he smiles nervously.

“Well, consider it cleared between us. I love you. Promise I’m not gonna leave ya, okay?” you say, putting your hand on his shoulder.

“Okay. Love you too.” he says shyly. “Wow, can’t believe we have said we love each other, again. Someone call Guinness!”

You shake your head and stand from the couch, raising your eye brows and smiling as you head towards the kitchen, “Fuck off…”

—

As you all stand around the kitchen island you hear the front door open and see Josh walking in with a bag of wine bottles.

“Hellooooo….” his nasally new accent rings through the house.

“Oh god, he is doing his Elle voice!” Y/N laughed, putting her hand on Elle’s arm.

“His what?!” she scoffs.

“He started doing this new voice and I’m so sorry but it sounds just like you when you get tipsy.” Y/N says, laughing. “Me and Danny were talking about it the other day.”

You poke your head around the door frame to signify your location as he joins you all in the kitchen. 

“I brought some bev-era-jiss for the gai-ls…” he continues, placing the bag on the counter.

You raise an eyebrow to him and smirk, “What a lovely mustache you have, ma’am.”

“Oooh, yiss, tank you, I must cawl my waxa with the sticky pay-pas…” he smiles.

“We are not twins. There is just no fucking way.” you laugh, hearing the door chime again and Danny’s booming voice fill the hall.

“Hope you don’t mind I brought a friend…” he says, stepping into the kitchen with Logan behind him.

No fucking way.

“Hey dude, nice place!” he says looking around the house.

“Yeah, no problem at all, sup man.” you say shaking his hand. 

“Oh my gosh! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming!” Y/N says, making her way over to give him a hug.

It’s fine. It’s totally cool.

Sam shoots you a side smirk, clearly knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“I think everything is ready if we want to eat!” Y/N says.

“Yeah, everybody grab a plate, help yourselves.” you say, motioning towards the stove.

Y/N makes her way over to you, leaning her head onto your shoulder as you both watch everyone happily fill their plates with the food the two of you prepared together, in the house you shared, and you smiled. She loves you, always.

—

“So Logan, I heard you’ve worked some pretty cool gigs…” Sam said, striking up conversation as he twirled his spaghetti.

Great, here we go…

“Well, yeah, right out of college I apprenticed with this guy Chuck, who was managing crew for Foreigner. Went all over with them. Those guys have still got it, let me tell you. Busted my ass on that tour.” he laughs. “But it was great experience. Chuck got me in touch with someone else when the tour ended and I ended up going out with Joan Jett and her crew for a while. Just a short tour but that somehow ended up getting me on tour with Paul McCartney this last year. Man is a wealth of knowledge in the industry.”

“Paul McCartney?! Dude, you didn’t tell me that!” Danny says, dropping his fork.

“Yeah man, really nice guy. Super funny, plays jokes on his crew all the time.” he said. 

Okay so he worked with Paul McCartney, big deal. Probably doesn’t even know his music. 

“Damn I am so jealous, and now you’re with us, what a downgrade.” Sam laughed.

“No, actually, the few shows I have done with you guys have been phenomenal. Of course we’ve had a few hiccups to work out, but when we hit the road again, it’s gonna be golden. No pun intended.” he laughed, granting him a chuckle from Josh. 

You shot a look at Josh silently telling him not to laugh at his well timed jokes, to which Josh rolled his eyes. 

“So Logan, you listen to any McCartney after working with him?” you asked, ready to put him on the spot. 

“You know what, after hearing the songs he played on tour I have to say, I was a bit disappointed he didn’t play some of his deep cut stuff. I was hoping for some good shit to pop up every once in a while, but of course he had to stick to the classics. The man keeps a stacked setlist though, plays like 40 something songs a night.”

“Jesus Christ, I can barely make it through twelve.” Josh laughs.

“But, to answer your question, yeah I listen to the good stuff.” he says.

You smirk, “What’s your favorite album?” you ask, knowing he is going to pick something generic. There’s no way he actually likes good McCartney. Wings McCartney.

He sets down his fork and looks at you with a smirk, “Ahhh, most definitely Ram, but Wild Life is a close fucking second.”

Fuck me, maybe he does.

“And you know what, this may be somewhat of a controversial opinion, but his work with Linda and Wings was some of his most brilliant stuff. Venus and Mars? Iconic…”

You took a breath, trying to seem unphased, “Yeah I’m going to have to agree.”

“And Jakey finally has a challenger…” Danny taunts.

“Challenger?” Logan questions.

“Yeah, like, no one can go head to head with Jake when it comes to music trivia.” he explains.

“Oh…” he laughs, “Try me…” he says.

“I will. I will. Everyone has their weakness.” you smirk.

“Wait, speaking of Ram, has Y/N ever made you her famous monkberry moon delight drink?” he asks.

“No….” you answer, confused. 

“Oh shit she used to make it all the time in college...it was her specialty drink. Everybody loved it. Y/N! Can we make monkberries soon?!” he asked, turning to her.

“Y/N you have to!” Danny said. 

“Yeah, I want to try this famous drink, babe.” you said, making sure he heard you. 

“Oh my god yeah! I forgot about that. I can definitely make it! But, actually Jake, I don’t think you’d like it…not really your style.” she said, turning to you.

“You think so, huh? Haven't met a liquor drink I didn’t like…” you say.

“Well maybe I will make it for us soon. Next off day when we are on the road.” she smiles.

“Y/N, remember when you made it for that party and we carried that cooler in through the rain…I swear that thing weighed 100 pounds…” he laughed.

“Oh my god yes, and I slipped and you tried to catch me and you fell too and we almost spilled all of it?!” she laughed.

You felt yourself grow hot under the collar hearing about all the little memories they shared together.

He laughed and smiled, “Yeah, yeah, and then we got so fucked up on it we made Chris Horath drive us out to Frain Lake to go to that orchard because we were convinced we were going to steal apples and put them in the drink and it would taste even better!”

“Holy shit I totally forgot about that! We ended up lost as fuck in that cornfield in Ypsi! Made it back into civilization and stopped in a Meijer parking lot while I puked my guts out.” she laughed, damn near in tears. 

You swallowed down the words begging to leave your lips and sat back in your chair.

“God, that was so fun. Gotta love college right?” he said looking over at you.

“Wouldn’t know. Was busy touring the world with my band.” you spit.

“Annnyways, speaking of hitting the road, Sammy and I are leaving tomorrow to drive up to Cape Cod for his birthday!” Elle says sweetly.

“Oh my gosh! That is going to be so nice, I have always wanted to go there! Take lots of pictures okay?!” Y/N says. 

“I’m excited, I’ve never been there either.” Sam says.

“It was kind of last minute. We were supposed to be in New Jersey on his birthday, so I figured I could try to throw something together, and this is what I came up with.” Elle replies.

“It’s perfect baby, I can’t wait.” Sam says, kissing her sweetly. 

“Also, happy birthday Sammy!” Y/N smiles at him.

“Thanks m’lady…” he laughs.

“Yeah Sam, we can hit up that game place you like when you get back, okay? All the tokens you want, my treat.” Danny said. 

“You got yourself a deal.” he said.

You began collecting up the empty plates and carrying them to the kitchen, Josh hot on your heels with another handful.

You started rinsing them in the sink as he stood next to you, leaning against the counter. 

“Dude…You can’t be serious.” he whispered.

“What?” you ask, pretending to be oblivious to what he was insinuating.

He huffs out a breath, “Have another drink and relax. We’re gonna talk later.” he says, slapping your back and rejoining the crew.

—

After a few more drinks, everyone found themselves huddled around the TV in the study arguing over Mario Kart. Y/N was in the middle of a deep and heated drunken debate with Danny about why they are called the Mario Brothers, when Luigi is just as important as Mario. You laughed as you watched her from the doorway, her cheeks pink from the bottle of red, as she drove her point home.

Josh appeared behind you, grabbing your arm and nodding towards the front porch. You grabbed your wine glass and followed him, taking a seat in the wooden chairs. The air had cooled just slightly, the hot summer weather looming as the days passed. He sat across from you in the matching chair, kicking his feet up onto the table. 

“What’s up Jake.” he asked, sipping his drink.

“What do you mean?” you ask dismissively. 

“It’s very clear to me that you are having some sort of internal pissing match with Logan. It’s written all over your face.” he says, challenging you to disagree.

“Nope. I’m fine.” you lied.

“Lie to me again, Jake.” he said.

“I just don’t like him just popping up out of nowhere, having all these inside jokes and shit with Y/N.” you admit.

“How come?” he asks, rubbing his mustache.

“I don’t know.” you mutter.

“I think you do…” he says.

You sigh, “I don’t know. I guess I just hate that he has something with her that I don’t. Which sounds stupid to say. She went back to college and left me and picked him up like I never existed. I thought about her everyday and she was busy partying with…him. Now he’s back in her life and I just feel…I don’t know, protective.” 

“And that's a valid way to feel. He was with her when you couldn’t be. Look at it that way. He watched out for her and was a friend to her… she came back to you, Jake. And as far as feeling protective over her…” he smirked, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” 

“Why’s that?” you ask.

“He’s just doesn’t strike me as a threat. They are just friends.” he says. 

“Whatever. I guess he is kind of cool. Likes good music.” you admit.

“I think the two of you have a lot more in common than you are willing to admit.” he raises an eyebrow.

“Okay whatever… are you done lecturing me?” you scoff.

“No, there is something else I want to talk to you about.” he says.

“And that would be?” you ask, tossing back the rest of your glass of wine.

“I was talking to Y/N yesterday, and I spent the morning with her today…She’s changing Jake. She is really, really trying. She is looking for any and every way to try and better herself. She has been incredibly open to everything I am throwing at her, and she is taking responsibility for her shit. I am really hopeful for you two and I don’t know if she has talked to you about it, but… she was thinking about stepping back from the tour.”

“What?!” you ask, sitting forward. 

“She wants to make sure she is giving you both space to heal and grow, and she said she felt like her being around wasn’t going to give you the space you need.” he says.

“No, no. She can’t drop out. Shit, I can’t leave her here. I don’t even want space. I’m just going along with whatever she wants to do because…fuck, because I don’t want to spend a single second without her.” you started to panic.

“Relax Jake. She isn’t going to. I talked her out of it. I wasn’t telling you that to freak you out. I was telling you that because I want you to understand how serious she is about trying to fix things with you. I don’t know exactly where you two stand,  but I hope that you are willing to be receptive to her wanting to mend things with you.” he says.

“I am, I know how she feels, and I finally believe her. I thought I knew how much she loved me before but…the past couple of weeks have really shown me. As much as I hate to say it, part of me feels like something like this had to happen for both of us to wake up and realize that we’re it for each other.” you say, rubbing your mouth.

“She wrote me this note…This horrible fucking note. A goodbye basically, telling me how sorry she was, that she could never see herself the way I saw her. That she didn’t deserve to. Fucking killed me. Bared her soul to me, left it on the back of a drawing, not knowing if I would ever see it. I know how much she loves me. I know how sorry she is. Her and Sam made a horrible mistake, but I will be goddamned if I don’t spend every second of forever reminding her that even though she has made mistakes, even though she is flawed, she has been and will always be perfect to me.”

“I know, brother. We all know…” he says.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a while, just staring out into the night watching the cars pass. 

“You know, dad gave me great-grandma Amelia's ring…” you say, breaking the silence.

He turns to look at you, “Is that so…”

“Yeah, when I went home…after everything. Made me feel sick. She was asleep on the fucking couch in the other room after we played pretend all day in front of mom and dad.”  you said. 

“Ouch.” he quipped.

“I didn’t want to take it. Wanted to tell him to give it to Sam. There was no thought in my head of ever wanting it.” you said.

“So what’d you do?” he asks, finishing his drink.

“I took it. Mom made me. Told me ‘ya never know when you might want it’. So I took it and now it’s burning a hole in my pocket. I think mom was right. I can’t stop thinking about it on her finger. But look at us… I don’t know man, it’s just…I love her. She loves me. Why can’t it just be simple?”

“I know it’s tough right now. But I know things are going to work out. Just give her time to figure herself out. Let her deal with her demons. You can’t expect her to love you how you need, if she doesn’t love herself.” he says.

“She doesn’t love herself?” you ask.

“No. But she’s trying. That’s what I’m saying. She wants to be what you need Jake.” he says.

“Don’t…tell anyone that…about the ring. I hid it where no one would find it. But…” you ask.

“I won’t tell Jake. I promise. But I will admit, I can’t wait for the day that girl becomes my sister for real.” he smiles, standing up from his chair.

“You think she would say yes?” you ask.

He smiles and shakes his head, “Jake… she’s not meant to be anyone else’s. She’s been waiting her whole life for you to simply, ask.”

—

After everyone left the two of you found yourselves in the kitchen, drying wine glasses and wiping the counters down after a successful family dinner. Y/N put on one of the new albums she bought you, letting the music spin through the house and into your ears, a sweet relaxing jazz ballad. As it came to a close she turned to you, “Should I flip it, or are we done?”

“Flip it, and come back to me...” you say.

You put away the last of the wine glasses, tossing the dish towel over your shoulder as she walks back into the kitchen. The music is floating through the air and the wine is still swirling through your system. You grab her hand and pull her towards you, wrapping your right arm around her waist, and holding your clasped hands in the air. She smiles as she realizes what you’re doing, relaxing her body and letting her head rest on your chest as you dance with her to the moody music.

“I forgot how sweet you are when you drink wine…” she utters.

You rest your head on top of hers and sigh, letting your fingers lace with hers. 

“Just missin' you baby.” you breathe into her hair.

“I’m right here.” she says.

You slide your hand from her waist up to the back of her neck, holding her close to you, “You know what I mean…”

Her hand slides under the back of your shirt, resting on your lower back as her fingers lightly scratch into your skin, “Yeah, I know.”

You press a kiss to the top of her head, and let her go, letting her step away. 

“Gonna take a shower…” she says.

“I’ll be in the study.” you smile back, watching her walk down the hallway.

You turn off the lights in the kitchen and make your way to the study, grabbing your guitar and sitting down in your leather chair. A content sigh leaves your chest, as you finally feel like you are getting some of your normal energy back.

You start to strum against the worn in strings, the feeling of your favorite guitar back in your hands, like nothing you could imagine. You toss your head back onto the cushion and close your eyes, trying to pick out the notes to the song that's been stuck in your head all day.

You think back on your talk with Josh, and really consider what he told you. Maybe it's because you’ve ended every night with her in your arms, but you are hopeful that he’s right about the two of you. You hope that she can learn to love herself. You hope that she feels like she is learning and growing and becoming the person that she wants to be. All you really want is for her to be happy.

Your mind drifts again wondering what it would be like if she did leave the tour. You wonder what she would do. Where she would go. Would she stay here? What would happen between the two of you? Would she call you? Text you?

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear the guest room door open and the soft padding of her feet on the hardwood floors. She looks into your bedroom, before turning around and seeing you sitting in the chair behind her.

“Looking for me?” you ask.

“Yes.” she answers.

“You wanna start the next season?” you ask.

“Jake?” she asks.

You sit up and set your guitar on the stand, “Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you?” she asks.

“Of course you can, c’mere…” you say waving her towards you.

“Can we…talk in there…” she says pointing to the bedroom.

“Oh, sure. Let me just lock up.” you say, standing and turning off the lamp, and locking the front door. You set the alarm, and turn off the hallway light, guiding her into the bedroom with a hand on her back.

You shut the door behind the two of you, as she makes her way over to her side of the bed. You quickly strip down to your boxers and pull back the blankets, before sliding into bed. You plug your phone in and set it on the nightstand, turning on your side to face her.

You notice the look on her face and feel worried, “What’s wrong babe…” you ask.

You can tell she is nervous about what she wants to talk about, and suddenly you’re feeling a little bit nervous too. 

“Jake, when I came home the other day, you were mad. You thought I was on a date with Logan…how come?” she asks.

“How come I was mad?” you ask.

She nods, and bites her lip.

“Well, to be honest…I wasn’t mad, I was more jealous.” you answer.

“But if we aren’t together anymore, why?” she asks.

“I think because I still have hope that we will be.” you say.

“Do you want that?” she asks.

“Of course I do.” you answer.

“Do you hate Logan?” she asks.

“No.” you say.

“It felt like you did during dinner tonight.” she says.

“I know, I know. I just… remember when you left the first time and went back to school?” you ask, watching her nod her head.

“I was so…lost. For a while, really. Took me a long time to get my life straightened out after that. I always thought it was the same for you. Hoped you missed me as much as I missed you. Wondered if you were thinking about me at all.” you paused. “So hearing Logan talk about all the fun you had together, and having all these inside jokes and stuff… hurt a little. Made me feel like…you had forgotten me. I know it’s stupid because here we are now, but… I just felt like you replaced me.”

“Jake, no…” she said, reaching out grabbing your hand. 

“I’m sorry I was being a dick. I will talk to him. He seems like a really cool guy.” you admit.

“He is Jake. You two are so similar. I think… I think that’s why he and I got so close. He was just like you, but different. Sometimes talking to him felt like talking to you. And I missed you so bad. You don’t even know how many times I almost called you. Or almost texted you… College wasn’t all fun and parties. I had some of the worst days of my life while I was there, and I had no one. All I wanted was you. I wished I did. Biggest regret of my life is missing out on those years with you. Anyways, I swear it was never like that between me and Logan. We were and still are, just friends.”

“I know. I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to accuse you of… going on a date or whatever, I guess I just thought if anyone was going to take you on a date… it should be me. That you would want it to be me.” you say, meeting her eyes.

“I do, Jake.” she replies. 

“Me too.” you smile.

You feel her foot brush yours and a rush runs through your body. You let out a deep breath and roll over to grab the remote, turning on the TV. “Just one? That wine is hitting me pretty hard.”

“Just one.” she smiles, scooting in closer to you.

You open your arms to her, letting her make the decision, and you watch as she pauses to think, “Do you think…do you think us doing this breaks the no touching rule?” she asks.

“I think that you like to lay with me, and I like to hold you and that’s the end of it.” you answer. “I don’t think we are breaking the rules, I think we are just letting them evolve to meet us where we are.” you reply.

She settles down into your arms, and nuzzles her face into your neck. You feel a tingle rush through your body again, feeling her leg tangle with yours under the blankets. 

You close your eyes and just lay there for a second, knowing you could fall asleep right now thanks to the wine, but instead you press play on the remote and turn off the lamp.

You rub your fingertips over her bare shoulder as the episode plays, feeling her hand rest on your stomach in your very favorite place. Suddenly a thought pops into your mind, overwhelming your brain and causing you to reach for the remote and pause the show. 

“Can I ask you something?” you question.

“Yeah?” she turns her face to look at you.

“Why did you tell Josh you wanted to leave the tour?” you ask.

“Oh…” she pauses. “Well, I don’t want to, I guess. I just…I was feeling like, how could either of us grow up and move forward if we are always with each other? But then, Josh kind of reminded me I signed a contract and then explained to me how this would be the biggest growth challenge we would face together, and that if we could make it through that, we could make it through anything.”

“I can’t imagine you not being there, you know.” you say.

“I just… wanted to give you space if that’s what you needed.” she says.

“Does it seem like I want space?” you asked, holding her tightly to you.

“I guess not.” she laughs.

“Do you…want space?” you ask.

She rubs her fingertips over your collarbone, “Not really. I think we owe it to ourselves to be ‘not together’ but still, kind of, ‘together’, I guess. I like how things are now. I think we are just��in a rebuilding period. I think we will both know when we are ready.”

“Yeah. Rebuilding. I like that. But, I guess all that being said…god it feels weird to even say this…you know that I’m not going to…see other people or anything…” you say nervously.

“I don’t want to either. I want to spend every night just like this.” she says.

“You know that’s what I want too, right?” you ask.

“I do now…” she whispers. 

“I want to kiss you so bad Y/N…I have all day…” you say.

You see her eyes flick from your eyes to your lips, biting her own as she tries to battle within herself. “Fuck, just one…” she says, pressing her lips to yours. 

You grab her face with your right hand, pulling her harder into you as you feel her pillowy soft lips on yours. You bite her bottom lip as she pulls away, releasing it as she settles back on your chest. 

“Shit, Y/N…” you pant, “You're gonna kill me…I swear.”

“I’m gonna go get in bed Jake…” she says. 

“What? You’re leaving?” you ask.

“I’m afraid if I don’t…” she trails off.

“I’ll behave. Don’t leave me, love…” you plead. “We still have fifteen minutes left in this episode…”

“Okay and then I will go to my bed.” she says, nodding.

“If that’s what you want. Now come back, I want my last fifteen minutes.” you say, pulling her back down to your chest. She snakes her arm around your waist letting her fingers slide in to rest just under the waistband of your boxers. A comforting feeling you didn’t even know you missed until now.

You press play and let those minutes pass, but as her breathing starts to even out and she tangles her leg between yours, you know she’s not leaving, and you smile because you know she never really intended to.

—

As the sun peeked into the room you squinted as your eyes opened, feeling her back pressed against your arm. You rolled over towards her, wrapping your arm around her, as she stirred awake. She turned to face you, stretching beneath your arm and letting out a yawn. 

“Sleep well?” you asked.

A shy smile crossed her lips, “Yes…Did you?”

“Always do when you’re here.” you admit. You release her as she rolls over to grab her phone, just watching her as she continues to wake up. She shoots up in the bed completely stricken with panic.

“What baby?” you ask, concerned. 

“Jake…” she says, her hands shaking.

“What? What!” you urge.

“Just look…” she says, handing you her phone. You take it from her and see a message from an unknown number sent at three in the morning, with a link to an Instagram page. Fuck.

You click on the link and are brought to a profile filled with photos, but they aren’t just any photos. They are photos of Y/N. Photos of her taken by someone watching her. You scroll to the very bottom, and see that the very first one is from 2017, while she was still in school. As you continue to scroll you see the years pass, 2018, 2019, 2020… all photos taken of her without her knowing.  Out in public, going home, at your shows…Photos of her with friends, photos of her with you, with Josh, with Sam and Elle. You all thought his stalking started in Austin but you couldn’t have been more wrong. He was truly hunting her.

“Jake what the fuck is this?” she asks, nervously.

“Well, it looks like he just sent you his photo diary. Showing you every time he has been around you without you knowing. Showing you he’s here and he’s still watching. Fucking creep.” you answer.

“Jake those are recent!” she says clicking on the newer photos. Pictures of her walking into the hospital in Saginaw. A picture of her at the farmers market just a few days ago. A picture of her and Josh walking into the yoga studio. He was back and he was getting more bold.

“Y/N, you cannot leave here by yourself…not without someone with you. Preferably me.” you urge. “God what the fuck does he want! What is his end game here?” you yell.

She grabs her phone and throws it down onto the bed, running her hands over her face, still very shaken as she realizes how unsafe she’s been this whole time. 

You roll over to grab your phone to text the guys and let them know, but your own message was waiting for you. You looked at her, before looking back at it, swiping your finger across the looming notification. 

Unknown

3:10am: An eye for an eye…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

@gretavansara@jordie-gvf-admin@starshine-wagner @eyelinerjake@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust@raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @violet-hayes@indigostreakmorgan@jakemarrymeibeg@fakeplastiqtree@radmads-gvf @fwzco @katelynn-gvf @writingcold @jakesgrapejuice @jakekiszkasbabymama @emsfallingsky @gretavanbear @ejoygvf @beebloopbleep @mackalah @weneedsomehealing123 @reesetrippingthelight @lightmylove-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf@fulltimecynical@ageofbajabule@ageofsinners@indigostreakslut @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @joshskittytickler21 @mp0801@starcatcherry @samsbirks @darianh07 @cassiesgreta @becinabubblegvf @hanntisocial @demonrat444 @mrbrownstne @gretabyss @bizzielisteningtogreta @samsbirks @jakes-archer @laneygvf @jaketsword @hangvf @indigostreakmorgan @sadiextricia @thunderstomp-and-tequila @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @lyndz2names @brujamagik @overtheehillsandfaraway @gretavanfan @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @slightly-russian

@gracev0609 @sammiboo162 @jakekiszkasmommy @jaketkiszkalover @everyglowinthetwilightknows @literal-dead-leaf @ghostly—photography @aintthatapity

If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please send in an ask!

[smootqueen]

~ Between Shadows and Ice: Sylus and Zayne's Battle for Her ~ Ch. 2

Love and Deepspace Unofficial Lore. Love and Deepspace is a mobile game that is NOT owned by me. This is content made for entertainment purposes only and not meant to oppose any means of sponsorship or monetary gain. If you enjoy this content, support Love and Deepspace by following them on social media platforms and downloading their game.

Warning: NSFW Content (TW: forced kissing, sexual references, pinning down)

Zayne vs Sylus x Female M/C Content 🩵🩶

Chapter 2: Encounter

At around 4:30 AM, Zayne’s alarm rang and stirred me awake momentarily. Through glossy eyes, I see him leaning in and feel his hot breath on my cheek as he leans in to kiss it and does the same on my temple.

“Sleep, M/C.” It’s almost as though he commands it in a gentle and subtle way. It causes me to bury my face into the pillow and turn to a comfortable position in his bed. With the warmth and scent of his sheets, I find my mind drifting away in no time and I fall back asleep.

When I open my eyes, it is 9:00 AM on Zayne’s screen that floats lightly above his nightstand. I stretch, feeling my legs sore from Zayne’s weight pressing against them the night before. As I remember the events that unfolded I feel my face hot and recall him kissing me this morning.

He must be at work.

I glance around his bedroom, where his side of the bed is already made. His glasses are missing from the nightstand and his slippers are beside his closet entrance. I climb out of the bed and notice my clothes are missing from the floor. I’m about to text him to accuse him of hiding them, but see a couple of texts I have from him already.

05:00 - I am off to work now. I put your clothes in the washer. They won’t be dry by the time you wake up since they will be finished washing. Feel free to grab something from my closet… or you can stay like that ;). 05:02 - Either way, my home is yours. 07:00 - I forgot to tell you there is some leftover dinner in the fridge for you to eat.  If you do not want that, my card is inside the drawer next to the sink. Use it to order food while you shower. 08:00 - I got called in for surgery. I will be out around 10.

I roll my eyes at the staying nude part, not being able to help but to giggle. I grab one of his white button up shirts and slide my arms, failing to fit in it since he is much bigger than me. I skip the first three buttons on the shirt but button the rest to tiptoe through the rest of his apartment. When I enter his laundry room, which has the scent of fresh jasmine emitting from the detergent, I move the clothes to the dryer, noticing he has a basket of his own clothes unwashed. I place his clothes inside the washer, determined to leave them ready for him by the time he comes home.

I take the time to respond to his texts while the washer and dryer tumble silently.

Dr. Zayne, since you hardly had any non-buttoned shirts, I had to wear one of your white ones. I will give it back once my clothes are finished drying… or maybe I will keep it a souvenir :)

When I make my way to the bathroom, I notice the toothbrush that he bought me is still here. “For when you spend the night” was his justification when he surprised me with it one day. I use it to brush my teeth while glancing in the mirror, noticing my mascara was smudged under my eyes. Even though I had fixed it at Tara’s car while we were on our way to Zayne’s, I guess last night was too much for it to handle.

I should consider investing on waterproof makeup....

I remember him locking my thighs between his biceps while he placed his face between my legs, his determined green-eyed gaze as he locked eyes with me and saying “Come for me.”,

I sigh after spitting the toothbrush into the sink and notice my reflection has a bright pink face. 

“Yes, Sir” I think out loud, giggling to myself as I remove his shirt to hop into his luxurious shower. The shower head is placed directly in the middle of the ceiling, causing a rainfall effect. It is big enough for me to walk into it, almost like it is another room. I sigh with pleasure as the hot water embraces my body. When I open my eyes after letting the water run down my face, I see my products are also still here, in the corner shelf where I had left them last time: untouched and organized as he always keeps everything. I wondered if he thought of me when he saw them in the mornings. 

When I clean my body using an exfoliating glove, I notice his dry semen is still on my chest and abdomen. I scrub it off using a peach scented soap and body wash, making my way down to my toes and emulsifying my body with the foam.

When I exit the shower, I dry myself with his dark gray towel and wrap it around my hair while I slip his shirt back on. I then check my phone to see if he responded and decide to send him a provocative picture on his shirt to follow up on the previous text I sent. 

Tara - 10:01 - How did it go??

Tara’s message pops up on the screen. 

When I start to type if I can call her, she takes the initiative of calling me first. She squeals in delight as I tell her the details of the night before while I get ready for the day. I was able to finish folding his clothes and putting them away while we talked.

“Jeez, M/C…” Tara sighs hopelessly, “You two are something else when you’re together. You should make it official!”

I was doing my side of the bed when she said that. Stopping and shaking my head, an embarrassed smile plays through my lips.

“I think we’re fine like this, Tara. Besides, we’re both always so busy-“

“But it’s so goooooood! And you like him!” She whines.

But I don’t want to hurt him.

I laugh dismissively.

“I’ll think about it, T.”

“Fine. Although I may not be able to make such a captivating story with you, don’t forget we made a deal to meet up tonight.”

“Are you able to pick me up? I can pay for our snacks before and after.”

“I will be at your apartment at around…” Tara pauses, I am guessing she is looking at the time, “9 PM? Or should I get there earlier because of traffic?”

Suddenly, I feel something burning in the back of my neck. When I turn around, I notice a blurred figure passing by the window. Frowning, I check my watch for any fluctuations but nothing is detected. Meanwhile in the background, Tara continues to speak but I am not listening.

This presence…

I squint my eyes slightly outside, to notice a familiar looking crow flying. The moment I notice it, its red eyes dart at me and flash.

Mephisto.

“Tara, pick me up at 9. Also, if I send you a signal within the next 30 minutes, call the Hunters for backup” I say hurriedly as I change, nearly tearing off my clothes and tumbling as I put my combat boots on. Before Tara can ask anything, I hang up and exit Zayne’s apartment in a sprint.

——————————————————————————————————

I ran through the city like a maniac, losing my footing a couple of times as I stumbled against people and sometimes even cars. Everything seemed to be in my way at that time.

Mephisto noticed I was following him and lowered himself to a nearly visible level from me. He would go in between buildings, flapping his electronic wings and occasionally cawing to alert me he would be turning. Eventually I made it to the outskirts of the city, which was surrounded by pure forest. 

The crow had managed to fly above the trees, no longer being visible to me. My lungs burned from running for who knows how long, but I had a good amount of stamina that I had built over the years as a Hunter.

I followed him blindly as the trees surrounding me engulfed me into the forested area, eventually unable to hear or feel him anymore.

No. Come on, come on….

I glanced around me in an intense manner, scanning for signs of the mechanical bird. Everything around me blurred together into a green foresty mess. I was unable to detect where I was when I felt him again.

“Mephi-“ I began to yell, but an all-too-familiar shadow emerged before me from red fragments forming on the ground.

A tall figure appeared before me, wearing a black shirt with a dark gray coat propped on his shoulders only. A silver haired figure I was too familiar with was now standing before me, with his hand stretched out and facing down as Mephisto descended from who knows where and landed at the center of it. He and Sylus’ eyes flashed red at the same time.

“Long time no see, sweetie.” He purred, a smirk almost marking his lips.

Shocked and with my heart racing from running so much, my ears began to ring.

What is he doing here??

“This is HQ connecting to Hunter 1311046. Are you in a safe location?” My watch makes me break my eyes locked on Sylus as I hear a Hunter’s voice go through it. Tara must have called them. Did I chase Mephisto for that long??

Sylus raises an eyebrow in disgust.

“What are you going to say? That the leader of Onychinus himself just arrived to the outskirts of Linkon city and you’re here to face him all alone…?”

I shoot a warning glance at him, feeling a drip of sweat go down the side of my face. 

“Copy, Hunter 1311046?” The watch follows up with a radio like voice.

I place the watch near my mouth, sighing before I respond back.

“I am at a safe location, HQ. I thought I was going to confront an enemy. Copy.”

What the hell am I doing?

“Copy that, Hunter. Stay safe.”

I glance up to see Sylus standing inches from me now, his tall figure hovering over me like the trees surrounding us. By instinct, I reach out to punch him square in the face, but my hand is stopped by his red flares coming from the ground. They grip my arm and hand, causing me to make a “tsk” noise out loud and use my foot to boost myself into a cartwheel. When I land behind him, I stretch my leg out to kick his back, but I am quickly detained by the same flares.

“A little hostile, I see.” His deep voice murmurs as he holds my arm and leg in the air, while I struggle to hold my footing with my free foot. “I guess that’s well deserved.”

“Fucking bastard!!” I yell angrily, feeling hot tears from adrenaline threatening to spill down my eyes.

“What a mouth.” Sylus turns around in a calm manner, holding my chin with his hand. “You look like you’re not happy to see me.”

“I’m not.” I grit through my teeth, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“I love that defiant look on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be back at the N-109 Zone with-“

I feel the red and black flares slither around my neck around my mouth, my complaints becoming muffled by his Evol. I struggle under his grip, balancing my body on just one of my legs and having my other arm fully stretched out, feeling helpless and in pain from the stretch. I shoot a nasty glare at him.

He is suddenly behind me, and I feel him lean down as he puts his lips beside my ear. 

“You’re being noisy. I need you to shut up for a second so we can have an actual conversation and you listen to me. Do you think you could to that for me?” When he whispers against me, I wince, feeling myself grow hot at how deep and sexy his voice is.

I begin to shake as I try to move my body, but it is unable to respond as his flares hold me tighter in position.

He releases a small chuckle: “We should’ve tried this back at the N-109 zone. You would’ve loved it with all the things I did to you.”

I recalled meeting Sylus for the first time back in my N-109 Zone mission, which was after Zayne and I had met Dr. Noah to discuss the protocore fragments around my heart. Sylus was the leader of an organized crime organization called Onychinus, which was somehow tied to the explosion that killed grandma and Caleb. Sylus was an arrogant asshole, but he was irresistible and attractive. We had hooked up a couple of times while we were together, and he was good at what he did to me. He and I parted ways when he escorted me after the N-109 Zone, we had made a deal that I would help him if he could escort me our safely. We never really got in touch after that.

As I recall our moments together, the flares suddenly loosen up around my body until I am fully released. When I fall to the ground, I land on my knees and release a cough, my lungs caught by surprise by the sudden change in wind pressure. His hand stretches into my view, and when I glance up at him, he has a coy smile while he keeps his neck straight. His silver hair moved with the wind, as did his hanging coat. I take his hand and grip it tightly to stand up.

“What are you doing here?” I say, releasing his hand and realizing he was still holding mine.

“Why are you not happy to see me?” He leans closer, his face inches from mine as he looks down at me. 

“You’re-“

“I know I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Then why-“

“How is it that our meeting after an entire year is this?” He  quietly sighs sighs seemingly disappointed, “I told you I am here to talk to you. I became here because of you.”

When he says that, my eyes widen. His expression is so serious, I know he is not fucking around.

“Sylus… you can’t be here…” I remind him gently, holding his face with my two hands. When I cup his face, he closes his eyes. Before I know it, he leans into my touch. He takes in deep breaths as if to calm himself.

“Peaches,” he murmurs with his eyes still closed.

I blush as I look at him in disbelief, "It’s dangerous for you to be here. I’m supposed to take you in-“

“And who’s going to stop me? Hm?” He opens his eyes and meets my gaze with a soft look, holding onto my hands tightly. “You?” He challenges.

I attempt to pull back my hands but he grabs them almost aggressively and his red eyes to meet mine when he opens them. He leans in to kiss me but I pull away and manage to release one of my guns from its sling and point it directly at him.

He stares, confidently leaning into the gun to put his forehead against it.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve done this, sweetie.” Through flashbacks I recall the time I shot him in the chest when we had first met. 

“Go ahead. Why hesitate now? I’m at your mercy, am I not? Have I not been this whole time?” he says with a cocky attitude and stares me down with a smirk. “You know what is going to happen if you shoot me sweetheart, and you also know that that isn’t going to stop me. It hasn’t before. just like you being with me, hasn’t stopped you from fucking others before.”

Mortified I realize Mephisto had flown outside of Zayne’s apartment. He knew what we had done. He knew I was with someone else.

“We were never together.” I clarify, “And you’re under arrest, Sylus!” I hiss under my breath, about to pull him in. He quickly becomes a cluster of feathers and reappears in a different angle. Grabbing me, and pulling me in for a deep kiss.

Shocked, I try to pull away, but feel his grip tightening around me as he holds me by the back of the neck. I feel him squeeze my fingers against my gun until they hurt, forcing me to release it. I release a small cry of pain as he continues kissing me. His grip tightens and Sylus lifts me up, pinning me against a tree, and holding me firmly in place. He continues to kiss me, eventually, his tongue making its way into my mouth with a hint of alcohol he had consumed still lingering on his lips.

Sylus continues to kiss me passionately, his lips moving against mine greedily, and his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth as if trying to devour me whole. His hand slowly slides down to grip my ass, and moves down to my thighs, gripping them tightly in his hands as he shifts and presses his body against mine.

“I’m with someone,” I mutter between kisses, “I can’t be with you.”

As I attempt to pull away, he chuckles lightly. His lips now trailing down my neck, leaving feather like kisses on my skin before speaking once more. 

“Yet here you are. In my arms. Kissing me. Tell me, dear, did you think about me while you were with him last night?” His hands slide up my thighs to cup my ass cheeks as he says that, his fingers threatening to trail right between my legs.

“No.” I feel myself craving Sylus, feeling his erection through his slacks and knowing it is pure lust on my end. “I didn’t think about you because what you and I had is long gone. It’s been more than a year-“

He interrupts me with a chuckle, a smug look on his face as he gazes at me, his eyes piercing. “ You say that, yet you’re still easily melting in my arms.” He mutters before kissing me once again on the lips, he leans into my ear and whispers: “do you kiss him the way that you kiss me? Hm?” He asked in low husky tone as he was squeezing me against him even more, causing me to gasp.

“Well, then.” He smirks at my reaction, “Let me let you think of me now.”  

His kisses trail down the junction of my neck, every so often biting the skin with fervor , his hands exploring my curves with the same passion. I can also feel a mixture of desire and lust on his end as he begins to slide thumb down my clit.

I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You know what I enjoy more than this?” I whisper against his kisses, shaking from the sudden pleasure. He stops to gaze down at me with a prideful look, as though he had gotten exactly what he wanted out of me. I smirk playfully, reaching to my watch and using my Evol to cause a burst of energy between us, which forces him to release me and separates our bodies.

"The fact that I get to arrest you!” I proudly say, landing on my feet, about to attack.

Sylus is nowhere in sight when I look around. 

“Oh,” his voice resonates around the forest, “I can’t wait to see how you’ll try, kitten.”

“Come fight me, you stupid bird!” I yell but my voice echoes into nothing. He was gone.

[vastill]

I'm sorry, I love you too

Melissa Schemmenti/fem!reader

warnings: hurt/comfort

words: 1300+

My requests are open!!

English is not my first language!!

A/N: you wanted more hurt/comfort and you shall receive... tbh it was hard for me to finish this WIP so it's a little rushed at the end but i hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think!!💚

You were sitting in the restaurant for at least 20 minutes, waiting for her to show up. The restaurant was nice and cozy, you were sipping on a glass of wine, not ordering anything, maybe she will be late.

Maybe she didn’t forget this time.

The waitress came to your table, her eyes full of pity. You hated that, but you had some hope in your girlfriend.

“Can I get you something to eat? Or are we waiting for a little longer?” The waitress asked.

“Yeah, we wait but can I have some more wine?” You smiled at her and she quickly nodded. And you were left to your thoughts.

That was the third date in two weeks that you had planned. And the third one that she forgot about. Did she have so much work at school? Maybe another late meeting with Barbara?

Did she not want to be seen in public with you?

You two were dating for more than a year but everything was in secret. Melissa didn't want to go public, you understood her. You both were working at the school, she wanted to remain professional. Also, you were younger. She always assured you that wasn’t a problem and that she doesn’t care about what people think. But did she really?

Behind the closed door, she was the sweetest person you could ever imagine but as soon as you were out everything changed. She wasn't your girlfriend anymore.

Was that too much to ask for? For her to show up? You were only asking for one evening. One dinner at that place you two were talking about for ages. Only one night.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts. You didn't want to jump to conclusions, but you couldn't help feeling hurt and frustrated.

You drank your glass of wine and decided to call it a night. You paid for everything and left the restaurant and drove to your house, not wanting to see Melissa tonight.

As you walked into your house, you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. You had been looking forward to that dinner with Melissa, and it seemed like she couldn't even be bothered to show up. You decided to give her the benefit of the doubt and wait for her to call or text, but after a few hours of silence, you realized that she wasn't going to.

You only send her a text that you can’t go with her to the Farmer’s Market tomorrow. You didn’t want to stand her up, even when she deserved it. You weren’t that petty.

You spent the rest of the night trying to distract yourself, but your mind kept wandering back to Melissa and what could be going on. You knew that you needed to talk to her about everything, but you didn't know if you were ready to hear what she had to say.

The next day you spend at home, slouching on the couch with ice cream, and your comfort show to make your mood better. To forget about yesterday's failure.

At lunchtime, you heard a knock on the door. Was your delivery guy that quick? You went to open the door.

Melissa stood there with a bag full of containers of food she cooked.

You were surprised to see her at your doorstep, but you couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Maybe there was a good explanation for her absence.

“Hiya hon, I wanted to make sure everything is okay and brought you some food, made your favorite. It’s all fresh bought it today.” She said with a smile on her face.

“Hey, oh thanks. Come in.” You let her in. A little confused that she didn’t bring up yesterday's dinner right away.

“So what’s up with you? Why didn’t you want to go today? Felling sick?” She asked as she was unpacking the food she brought.

“Are you really asking me that?” You said. You didn’t want to believe that she forgot. She couldn’t.

“What?” She asked clearly confused.

You let out a sigh. She forgot. It was clear now.

“We planned a date yesterday Melissa. I was waiting for you in that restaurant, hoping you show up. Hoping you didn’t forget the third time. Hoping I was important enough for you to remember.” You said looking at her. Your eyes held all the hurt and frustration you were feeling.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...” Melissa trailed off, looking guilty. “Work has just been so busy lately, and I’ve been really scatterbrained.”

“It isn’t an excuse Melissa. It was the third time. The third time I had to sit and wait for my girlfriend to show up.” You said, your voice raising. You took a breath in to calm yourself. “I mean the first one, okay, I can understand. The second one was just a mistake. But the third time? Melissa, I feel like I’m not important to you. I understand that you're busy with work and everything, but that doesn't excuse repeatedly forgetting about our plans. I just want to know where I stand with you because I feel like you are avoiding being seen with me.” You sighed, your hands rubbing your face, waiting for her response.

Melissa looked at you with a pained expression on her face. “I'm so sorry,” she said softly. “I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m so sorry. You are important to me, and I don't want you to feel like I'm avoiding being seen with you. I just don't want to make a big deal out of our relationship, especially at school, you know how it is.” She reached out to take your hand, hoping to convey her sincerity.

“Yes, I understand this. But it’s so hard when you are shutting me out as soon as we are in the open. We are in a year long relationship, don’t you think it’s serious enough to make us public?” You ask, nervous about what her answer could be.

Melissa looked down at her feet, clearly struggling with what to say. “I...I don't know,” she finally admitted. “It's just...it's complicated. I care about you so much, but I also don't want to risk our jobs. I know it's not fair to you, and I'm sorry. I just don't know what to do.” She looked back up at you.

“The staff at our job has the most understanding people that I have ever known. I really don’t think that will be a problem, especially when they find out that we were hiding this for that long.” You said looking at her with a soft smile. “And you know I don't care about reputation, I care about you more Melissa. I just want to show everyone how much I love you, how much I care about you.” Your eyes filled with a plea for understanding.

Melissa looked at you with tears in her eyes. “I'm sorry, I love you too.” She said, her voice shaking. “I didn't realize how much this was hurting you.” She leaned in to hug you, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. “I think we should go public. Taking slow steps, I don’t want them to have a heart attack if we show up on Monday all lovey-dovey.” She said laughing softly.

Relief washed over you, you couldn’t help yourself and just grabbed her for a hug. You felt so happy hearing that she understood your point of view. Backing away a little you took her face in your hands. “I love you so much, Mel.” You kissed her hard and she quickly reciprocated.

You parted when your lungs needed air. You linked your foreheads.

“I love you more hon.” She said stealing another kiss from you. “We need to eat that food I made. We don’t want to waste it.” And you smiled, food. The best love language.

A/N: i'm working on other requests now and on some drabbles with Mel and Lila. i think some of it will be posted somewhere this week!💚

[arrloww]

Café Oasis

Chapter Two

In where you apply for a job at a café. Café Oasis, although everyone calls it Café 141, due the number of military things in the café, and the army cadets that wonder into the café on their downtown.

SERIES CONTENT WARNING: xreader, Swearing, Sexual innuendos, fucked up sense of humor, Baking inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, Smut?

Master list

< Previous || Next >

After getting home, you packed the things you got from the market. You forgot to do it earlier, and small candles and soaps and wool and a small basket of various things had now been put in their places.

The hazelnut latte filled your senses as you cozied up on the couch, a small throw blanket that was made by an old elderly neighbour, covered your lower half. The television played an episode of Criminal Minds and the glow from your phone screen shone in your face. This is where you stayed for most of the day, scrolling on your phone before it was time to make dinner.

After dinner, you scroll through your emails, checking if you had gotten anything from the café or any other jobs you applied for. Most of the emails were just spam, Jobs hiring that you couldn’t apply for or Spotify Spam.

Sighing while tossing and turning in bed hours later, thoughts travelled, and soft music played. You worried that you wouldn’t get the job and that you wouldn’t be able to get a job at all and you would get kicked out…

The room is dark, and you were still awake at two in the morning. Why were you awake? Did you leave a light on? The water? The oven? Did you lock the front door?

Shaking the thoughts away, you weren’t in the mood to psych yourself out tonight. Needing to be awake for calls, emails and other adult stuff you’ll think of tomorrow. Twisting around to face the wall you pick up your phone, opening a simple game to help put you to sleep or to pass the time. And soon enough you’re asleep without even realising it.

If you knew you’d wake up in such a shitty way, you wouldn’t wake up. It’s 11 AM and your phone was buzzing against your pillow loudly, the ticking of the clock was vibrating all around the room, echoing around in your head. Not to mention your shirt felt all types of wrong on your body. Without meaning to, you missed the call with the distant feeling of throwing up.

(Not a surprise pregnancy, promise)

You were too hot. Opting to walk out into the cooler kitchen, placing yourself on a cool faux leather stool, the cold bench to welcomed you to place your head. It started to ground the racing thoughts, and your reasonable thinking came back.

Rushing back into your room, snatching your phone off the bed, almost breaking the cord in the progress. Opening your phone, there was a voicemail auto text saying that it was ‘Kate’ asking or you to call back whenever you were available. You walked to the kitchen, getting yourself some breakfast as you called the Café.

After a few rings the line picks up. “Hello, Café 141, Kyle speaking?” A guy’s voice echoed from the phone; you cleared your dry throat. “Hello, I would like to speak to Kate?” You asked, feeling a little anxious. Kyle replied with a ‘sure, one sec’ before murmurs and shuffling on the other line. It gave you a bit of time to grab a glass and fill it with water.

“Hello, Kate speaking?” You quickly swallowed the water, before responding.

“Hello, you called earlier?” Saying your name and Kate let out a small ‘oh!’. “Wonderful, I was calling to let you know that you got the job!” She halted to let you answer.

You suddenly stood straight muttering a ‘really?’, you were so happy. “Yes really!” Giving a small laugh, “Is today or tomorrow good for you to come in so we can get your uniform and to meet everyone?” Asking you, you nodded.

“Yeah, today is fine, what time?” Walking towards your bathroom, grabbing a fresh towel on the way. Kate responded when ever you could come in today. Before hanging up you told her that you’ll be there with in two hours.

After having a shower, getting your hair dry and everything else done, you basically run down to your car. Making sure to lock your door behind you.

It wasn’t too busy today; it was cold out and warm inside the café. Wondering up to the counter, a bulky guy with a mohawk and flour all down his front walked up to you. A large boyish grin on his face as some of his co-workers yelled at him from the kitchen.

Trailing your eyes down to his nametag, read ‘Johnny’. He notices and his grin gets a little wider. “How can I help ya?”

(Guys I don’t know how to write him talking in uhhhhh Scottish, please forgive me its almost three am)

“Hi, could I please see Kate Laswell? “Asking, tapping your fingers on the countertop in front of you. He nodded, turning and wondering around to the back. You hear his voice but not what he is saying. Not too much time he comes back, Kate behind him.

“Hey, come around back and we will get you a uniform!” She lifted the little section of the counter so you could walk through. You hadn’t noticed the first time; you made a note of it as you walked through. Following Kate to the back office, she bent down to pick up a box filled with shirts in plastic and another with pants.

Kate asked what your size was in both, and she handed them to you. “Do you have non-slip boots at home?” She asked, placing the boxes back. “They are a part of the uniform, and you won’t be allowed past the counter with out them on, so you don’t slip.” She continued.

“I don’t but I can go get some after this.” Kate nodded, gesturing you to follow her. She led you to the kitchen, asking you to be careful where you step and to not touch anything.

“So, the kitchen, self-explanatory.” She gestured around the working people, making sure you knew where everything was and what she expected from you. “So, all I ask is to keep your space clean, if something needs to be washed, rinse it in the hot water and then into the dish washer.” You nodded along, making note and to make another note to write it in a notebook when you get home. “Now, I am lenient with phone usage, but not when its busy, or if we have a flux of online orders. There is always something to do, but in the event there’s not, just make sure you’re conversing out the front. Okay?”

“Understood.” A skinner male catching your eye, he was loading the dishwasher and plunging his hands in to clear steaming water in a deep sink. He looked tired and had almost a constant look of ‘I’m bored, help me’. Kate continued her tour around the kitchen, pushing taller men out of the way and excusing herself past other female employees.

Once out the front of the Café, Kate showed you the layout of the pastries and other things in the glass cases and how to use the barista area. “Now if you have any trouble with anything, ask your co-workers. If they can’t help you at that time come to me.”

It wasn’t for another half hour before you were out of the café, heading to your nearest shoe store to buy a good quality pair of not slip boots.

[miikishii]

To Hold the Sea | Ch. 19 A

main masterlist

series masterpost | previous chapter | next chapter

synopsis: helping Ango finally decompress :)

warnings: implied drinking, domestic fluff haha

Your day at the agency is sort of slow. It’s a little difficult to get through without falling asleep at your desk. Somehow, though, you’re still happy. Everyone in the office takes note of it, too.

“You seem to be feeling better,”  Atsushi comments as you exchange some papers with him. You laugh lightly,

“Things have gotten easier, yes,” you say. Dazai rolls over on his chair,

“You do seem quite peppy.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Hot date tonight?”

“Oh, leave me alone.” You shut him down before Kunikida can. Atsushi laughs, awkward and confused,

“Uh, have fun?” 

“...Thanks,” you sigh.

At the end of the day, you’re a little behind. You decide to stay after to finish things up. You only realize by around 6:30 that you forgot to tell Ango you might be running late. He hasn’t texted you either, though; it worries you. You call once you’re on the way, but he doesn’t answer. You can only hope he’s still there when you arrive at his office. Walking into the building, you're worried by the lack of lights on, but his secretary is packing up tiredly, and a faint light from his office door catches your eye. You find Ango practically buried under a stack of papers; he gives you an exhausted nod,

“Hello… I don’t think I’ll be out for another hour or two.” he sighs. You frown at him,

“Who the hell pushes all this to you anyway?” he doesn’t respond, just keeps typing away. You sit down across from him with a huff of frustration,

“You didn’t answer my call either. Thought you coulda’ died,” you mutter. He laughs incredulously,

“You have that little hope for me?” it makes you laugh a little too,

“Yep.” he takes his eyes off his laptop to look at you,

“Look, I… I’ll just finish this part and we can go. I’m sorry; I know we had plans.” you give him a sympathetic look,

“It’s okay. Thank you…”

You can tell he’s trying to get it done as fast as he can, typing furiously, a focused wrinkle to his brow. By the time he’s finished, however, it’s already dark. When he closes his laptop, you get excited to run over to grab his coat and hand it to him. He smiles to himself as you hurry over with it,

“Thank you.” 

“I’m just excited to get out of here.”

“I am too,” he says, reaching for your hand; you hold it tight.

“I have an idea,” you giggle,

“Hm?”

“Trust me.”

“Oh God,” he rolls his eyes in jest; he follows you closely anyway. He shivers and sneezes a bit when you get outside,

“Are you still sick?”

“I just can’t seem to shake it.” you sigh,

“Maybe some rest would do the trick.” You say flatly. As you walk, he wonders where you’re headed, but it only takes him a couple of turns to put two and two together. As you approach a familiar alleyway he smiles bittersweetly.

“Gonna order a tomato juice?” you smirk.

“I might switch it up tonight, who knows.”

“Well, it might be easier since you don’t have any secrets to keep.” he nods.

“Right?” you look at him expectantly.

“I may have a few more tricks up my sleeve,” he says, trying to act nonchalant. Walking down those stairs so happily is like a breath of fresh air. Sitting down, you take the same spots you used to; like usual, there aren’t many people. The barkeep must recognize the two of you, he seems to do a double take. You order your drinks and sit idly for a minute. He clears his throat a suspicious amount of times.

“Seriously, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he says, punctuating his sentence by attempting to suppress his next cough.

“It’s cold tonight. Maybe you should’ve got a hot tea.”

“I’ll make some at home.”

He barely touches his drink when it arrives, maybe because he’s so busy staring at you. He knows you notice; he makes no effort to hide it.

“A toast?” he asks, holding his nearly full glass toward yours (half full),

“To what?”

“...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I just wanted to.”

“To us?”

“To us.”

As always, he doesn’t hesitate to pay or shove any cash you attempt to take out right back at you. He is, after all, a man of consistency. He shivers again when you walk outside, wrapping himself tightly in his jacket. You pat his shoulder and rub it comfortingly. You think he’s cute, his cheeks red maybe not from just the cold, all bundled up in his coat,

“You’re cute.” his cheeks grow redder,

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” he purses his lips and looks to the side, refusing to answer. You play with his sleeve idly, he looks down at where your fingers toy with it. He seems so much calmer than he did earlier. Your walk is calm and romantic, the cold air forces the two of you closer together; the ambiance of the city seems to make a melody. Arriving at his door, he sighs in relief,

“I’ll probably just take a bath and then go to sleep, sorry to disappoint,” he coughs again.

“You should call out tomorrow,” you say, unbuttoning his coat as he looks down, flustered.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” You hang his coat on its hook.

“Too much to get done.”

“Most of your work is on the computer, though. You could do it from home.” You walk into the kitchen comfortably, opening the fridge to examine its contents.

“They prefer to have me in the office.” he follows you in, coming to your side to watch as you investigate his groceries (or lack thereof).

“Ango, please, what’s one day?” You turn to him, closing the fridge with a subtle thud, and suddenly it crosses your mind to loosen his tie.

“It’ll be two this month.” you frown at him,

“Let me give them a call.”

“...No.”

“I can write you a doctor’s note!”

“No, please.” You put a hand on his forehead, he stares up at it,

“Yosano could write you one.” he sighs deeply but you don’t let him speak,

“I’ll call you out. You seem warm enough, you’re exhausted, you’re still coughing and sneezing. I mean, God, could you just take care of yourself? Just go lie down. I’ll run your bath.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Zip it.” You say as you untie his tie fully, “Go relax.” You kiss him on the cheek and, as if that was what convinced him, he makes a beeline for his bedroom without another word. You smile to yourself as he walks through the hall, trying his best to keep his posture presentable.

note: Dazai's next chapter may be a little while, unfortunately. I've been less motivated to write his side, I guess. ALSO, I loved writing this so so much. Ango enjoyers please enjoy.

[aliwritesfic]

The Wedding Date (Frankie Morales x F!Reader) (part 13)

Previous Next The Beginning

“Hello? You home?” Olivia opened your front door. “Jesus fuck you look like shit.”

You hadn’t changed out of your sweats from yesterday, your hair was a tangled mess and you had an angry blind pimple taking up most of the space on your chin. Also, you had been crying, a lot.

“I’ll kill him,” Olivia pulled you into a hug.

“You don’t even know what happened,” you sobbed into her shoulder.

“I don’t have to,” she said with simple finality. “I will kill him.”

She handed you a bottle of cold Rose and pulled another two out of her bag. “We’re skipping glasses tonight. Tell me everything.”

You unscrewed the top of the bottle, taking a long swig. “It just-just came out of nowhere? Am I fucking stupid, Liv?” You flopped back onto the couch, hugging the wine close. Olivia sat next to you, dragging your legs over her lap. 

“You’re not stupid,” she replied firmly, “he’s a fucking donkey-brained dickhead.”

“He just cares about his family,” you moaned. You couldn’t fault him for it. 

“Nuh-uh, nuh-uh, what did he say?” 

You handed Olivia your phone, open to the last message from Frankie. You watched her face as she read the message; the raised brow, mouth twisted in disgust. She had never been great at hiding emotion.

“I never thought he would be so spineless to do something like this over a text. I’m sorry I got you into this.” Olivia took your hand, squeezing it in hers.

You sniffled. “Not your fault, I even warned myself not to get attached to him. I wrote myself a stupid note and everything.”

“You wrote a note?”

Nodding miserably, you pulled the note you had written almost two months ago out of the pocket of your sweats. You had fished it out of your drawer last night, reading it and the text over and over again, hating yourself.

“Holy fuck you wrote a note,” Olivia handed the note back. You decided to either set it on fire or shove it in the garbage disposal. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do tonight.” You lifted your head slightly, decided that was too much effort and let it thunk back down on the arm of the couch.

“First, I’m washing your hair. Then, you’ve still got that mud mask, right? Slapping that on you, no arguments. Third, take out for dinner. And then maybe, if you’re feeling up to it, murder?”

“I’m not hungry,” you protested. You had lost your appetite last night and had only had a handful of shredded cheese in the day that had followed.

“You will be,” Olivia promised. 

She guided you gently to your bathroom, helping you take off your sweats. “Are you wearing deodorant?”

“I think I forgot it,” you held back the sob. 

“Oh, babe. No wonder you stink.”

You couldn’t help it - the sobs turned into laughs. It was the exact type of thing you would have said to her before doing what she did next, which was shove you under the warm water of the shower. 

Olivia successfully distracted you, her fingers almost pulling your hair clean out of your skull as she lathered the shampoo.

“Fucking hell! Don’t quit your day job.”

“I don’t have the skills to be a hairdresser. Or the patience.”

“Those bangs you have yourself in college beg to differ.”

“Bitch!” Olivia laughed as she sprayed you in the face with the shower nozzle. Quickly, you were both doubled over laughing, dripping with soap and water, a temporary but desperately needed reprieve from the tears.

Once your hair was washed, you were dressed in fresh clothes and sitting on the rug, leaning against Olivia’s legs as she combed your hair. The wine was being steadily depleted, the TV on Youtube showing the ‘Most Shocking Discoveries on Kitchen Nightmares’. It took you back to your college days, when you and Olivia had first roomed together, self-care nights when one of you was feeling heartbroken or downtrodden. 

You deleted and blocked Frankie’s number, not wanting to have the option of drunk calling him and embarrassing yourself even further.

“This is such bullshit,” Olivia muttered, glaring drunkenly at her phone. 

“What?”

“I’m trying to get William to bring us more hooch but the sonov’a bitch isn’t answering his phone. Lemme try Benjamin.”

“I’ve got some weed somewhere,” you offered. Olivia gripped your shoulders, eyes wide.

“How much?”

“Enough.”

An hour later, the pair of you were sitting out in the backyard, illuminated by the fairy lights that you had strung up the previous spring, steadily getting higher and drunker. “Should we order pizza or that new Japanese place?”

You shrugged, stomach rumbling. A reminder that you hadn’t eaten, and a reminder that your heart still ached under all that numbing. “Both, but get Ben to pick it up when he get us the drinks.”

Olivia shot finger guns at you. “Think he’ll go for it?”

You passed her the joint. “He has to if he doesn’t want to get wailed on.” Olivia snorted and pressed her phone to her ear.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me - no, shut the fu - no listen to me for one fucking second, you douche! No, no, here’s what’s happening . . . listen to me fuck, we’re getting pizza and Japanese, we need you to pick them up . . . why? Because delivery is expensive, you walnut. Ugh, yes, you can have some, obviously. No . . . yeah, I’ll explain why when you get here. Just an FYI, though, your stupid ‘friend’ is a spineless, brainless jellyfish! I’ll text you the address. Yeah, yeah, I love you too. Oh, and just come around the back when you get here.”

You ordered the pizza while Olivia ordered the Japanese, calling out food options to one another as you selected add to cart. It was probably more food than either of you could eat, even with Benny’s help, but by god, if you weren’t going to stuff your face until your shorts didn’t button, and then just a little more.

The man in question arrived a little later, holding the drinks in one hand and the bags of food in the other. “Ya’ll really gonna eat all this?”

“Are you really asking us that right now?” Olivia took a bag from him, clearing space so he could sit on the grass. Benny shrugged and flipped open a box of pizza. 

“While I’m honored to be invited to your backyard picnic-”

“Technically, you weren’t invited-”

“I just gotta know what the hell is going on.”

You sighed and grabbed a container of gyoza. “Heartbreak.” Benny waited patiently for you to continue. “Frankie . . . he uh, well, he wants to make it work with Ariel, I guess. No, I don’t guess. That’s exactly what he said in the text.”

Benny sat back, looking confused. “He texted that? He didn’t call?”

You nodded, taking another gyoza. That was what hurt the most - that he didn’t even have the fucking balls to call. A call, at least, would have allowed you to hear him say it, and allowed you to call him a dick. It would have given you some sort of closure. 

Instead, all you got was a stupid fucking text message.

You took a deep breath, pushing down the anger that was beginning to bubble up along with the sadness. Your voice took on an edge as you spoke. “I just wasn’t fucking important enough to warrant a conversation.”

“Ariel?” Benny was perplexed, scratching at his chin with his free hand. “They don’t even like each other as people. The only reason they still talk is because of Lails.”

Apparently, they liked each other a lot more than Benny thought. You watched as Benny shook his head, mouth moving soundlessly. You could see the cogs turning in his brain. 

Benny stayed a few more hours, long after the food went cold and the wine warm. You could hear the ocean, steady in its crashing waves. The topic of Frankie was now being avoided altogether, and you had successfully avoided tearing up for almost a full hour. 

Well, thirty-seven minutes. Not that you were checking.

“Would you be sad if I moved to Antarctica?” 

Benny and Olivia looked at you, and it struck you just how similar they looked. Fuck, slap a beard on her or a wig on him and they’d be almost indistinguishable. 

“You hate the cold,” Olivia said simply.

“I could tolerate it,” you shot back. There were many benefits to Antarctica; the marine life, isolation, something new, as far away from heartbreak as humanly possible . . . really, it had everything you needed.

“I’ll take you seriously when you’re not baked.”

“You should always take me seriously,” you deadpanned, “I’m the most serious person I know. I don’t know what a joke is.”

“If you for real flee the fucking country I’m living here.”

“It’s happening.” 

It wasn’t, in any capacity, happening. But it got you thinking that maybe you needed a holiday; probably not to Antarctica, but somewhere where you needed your passport to get into. Maybe you would become one of those people who traveled the world with just their wits and backpack. That was manageable.

“Ben, have you done much international travel?”

He shrugged. “A little bit here and there.”

“Any recommendations?”

“I hear Norway is nice.”

“You’ve never been to Norway.” Olivia raised a brow.

“I hear it’s nice, though. I don’t have to be a fucking Lonely Planet guide to hear stuff.”

It was past midnight by the time your eyelids started feeling heavy, your body weary. You closed your eyes, letting the night wash over you. Benny and Olivia were bickering about something, from what you gathered it had something to do with an ex of Benny’s contacting Olivia. 

Without meaning to, you fell asleep. Your heart still ached for Frankie, for what could have been, for the fool you had been. But it hurt just a tiny bit less.

Eventually, it wouldn’t hurt at all.

~

The pounding on his door came halfway through eating dinner. Frankie set down his bowl, paused the show he was watching, and stood. Before he had even gotten halfway to the door, the pounding sounded again. “Alright, I’m coming!” He opened the door, glaring at Benny who had his fist raised. “What?”

“Are you fucking okay?” Benny pushed past, looking for god knew what. “Are you being held hostage? Do you have, what’s it called, fuckin’ Stockholm Syndrome?”

Frankie followed. “What?”

Benny stopped in the kitchen, apparently given up on his search. “That’s the only explanation for you wanting to get back together with Ariel?”

Now Frankie really was confused. “Ariel?”

“Look, Fish, I love you, but is this honestly the best thing for you? I’ve been reading a lot about how we value oursel-”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Ariel, man. I know the divorce was hard, but I thought you were moving on.”

“I have moved on?” Frankie thought of you, how he wouldn’t have entertained the idea of you if he wasn’t well and truly moved on. 

“Then why,” Benny threw his hands in the air as he spoke, “are you and Ariel gettin’ back together?”

“We’re not,” Frankie said firmly, though still confused. “Where did you even get that idea?”

“Where-where did I get the idea? I’ll tell you where, Francisco! The fucking text that you sent the one person on this planet who I think is your whole fucking soulmate. And guess what, now she’s thinking about moving to Antarctica!”

“I never sent anything like that,” Frankie said quietly, mind racing. He had been trying to get through to you ever since Ariel and Laila had left, but you had been radio silent so far. He had chalked it up to you being busy - you probably had turned your phone off or were out on the ocean, out of cell range.

He grabbed his phone from the counter and immediately pressed the buttons to call you. As he expected, it went straight to a robotic voice telling him the call could not be connected. 

“Where is she?” Frankie looked at Benny with pleading eyes, now struck with the realisation that with every single moment that passed, it would be less likely that you would ever speak to him again. 

“At home, probably. She was still pretty upset when I left.”

“Lock up when you leave!” Frankie was out the door and in his truck in moments. He knew exactly what had happened, how this had happened. Now he just had to hope that you believed him when he explained. 

Frankie wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t even give him the time of day. God knew he didn’t deserve it after being such a fool. And he had been, he thought firmly, for trusting that Ariel wouldn’t pull some shit like this after he had suggested she stay the night so she and Lails could avoid an accident on the drive back to Tampa. 

When he was in the shower, probably or . . . no. Ariel had asked to use his phone; hers was dead and his charger wasn’t compatible. She needed to let her parents know about the change in plan so they didn’t go sick with worry when they didn’t show up. 

Frankie turned onto your street, palms slick with sweat. He could only hope that you’d listen, that you’d understand. 

He parked behind your car, pulled his cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. He didn’t put it back on as he knocked on your door, heart in his throat as he waited for you to answer.

@laichka @paintlavillered @idreamofboobear @pjkimrn @gracie7209 @sunnshineeexoxo @lorosette @fangirl-316 @dihra-vesa @astoryisaloveaffair @theanothersherlockian @pedritobalmando @blub-senpai @maievdenoir @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @bobbydearest @icanbeyourjedi @goldielocks2004 @1800-fight-me @littledragonlady @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @ficsbynight @hotchlover @dobbyjen @athalien @vanered15 @jitterbugs927 @ritasantosworld @gaypoetsblog

[orangeinecstasy]

cup of music, part two ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟryan mcmahon

✧: part one

paring: ryan x fem!oc

summery: erin finally gets a glimpse at the rockstar girlfriend lifestyle.

a/n: hey everyone! so i originally uploaded these to wattpad, but i wanted to have a bit of a platform change. please let me know what you guys think. my requests are currently open so please feel free to send in an idea you have. enjoy!

wc: 2.5 k

*likes, reblogs, and feedback are greatly appreciated!

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Ryan had last seen each other. Because I and school and Ryan had stuff with his band, it felt almost impossible for us to meet up. That, however, didn't prevent us from calling and texting each other practically every minute of the day. He would show you his art while you would talk about your classes and working at the shop. He was like a breath of fresh air on a hot summer day.

Today, thankfully, was a beautiful spring day. Everything around me was so green and vibrantly in bloom, making the fact that I had to study slightly less bearable. As I stared outside, the glass of the cafe window separating me from the world's beauty, my phone started to vibrate on the counter. Flipping it over, my face lit up once I saw Ryan's name across the top of it.

"Hey!" I say, answering the phone. I didn't know what it was, but my heart skipped a beat whenever he called me.

"Hey!! What are you up to?" I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

"Just studying for this bullshit test. You?" I slip my pencil into my notebook and shut it to focus more clearly on Ryan. "Damn, that sucks, love. If you're free a little later, I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner and maybe come to one of my shows?" I was honestly kind of shocked that he asked me to come to one of the shows so soon. There was a stereotype that people in bands had a reputation for keeping their relationships as open as possible. I knew Ryan, and I didn't have a set label, but that simple question caused my heart to give in to him more.

"Erin? You there?" I was so struck with shock that I forgot to respond. "Oh, yeah, sorry," laughing, I respond, "I'd love that. Just text me with all the details of that stuff." He hummed a soft response, "Will do. I'll talk to you later, yeah."

"Yeah!" The call ended, and I couldn't help but look down at my phone and smile. I was falling for him hard and fast.

After a few more hours of studying, I left the library and headed back home to change into something a bit cuter.

I didn't know much about Ryan's band. Just that he was the drummer, and Josh, the friend who came with him to the shop the last time, was their guitarist.

Because I didn't know what the video of the night would be, I settled on a black shirt with a low-scoping back that allowed for the tattoo of lilies of the valley on my spine to be exposed. Finally, I slipped on some jeans, a belt, and my trusty pair of black platform docs and headed out to meet Ryan at the dinner spot.

Thankfully the restaurant was only a five-minute walk from my apartment, so I decided to enjoy the beautiful weather and walk there. I hummed softly as I walked, and soon enough, Ryan came into view.

"Ryan!!" I call out to him, waving, his a giant smile on my face. "Erin!" he jogged over, arms engulfing me in a hug that slightly raised me off the ground. I didn't realize how strong he was, but that's what comes with being a drummer.

Hugging back, my lungs fill with his woody scent. "It's so good to see you." my feet again touched the ground as we slightly pulled away from the hug. I gently reach up, touching his cheek, and he leans into my touch. "It's really good seeing you too."

He took my hand, and the two of us walked into the cute cafe-style restaurant. "I hope you like this place. I've only been here a couple of times, but it's always been really nice." he squeezed my hand softly. "I'm sure I'll love it." I smile up at him, returning the squeeze.

Once we sat down at a table next to the large open windows and ordered, we spent nearly two hours just chatting. It was so lovely to sit there and talk with him about anything and every as we exchanged small touches. He was effortlessly funny and even more handsome than the last time I had seen him. After we finished, we decided to head out to the venue where he played tonight.

Our clasped hands swing between us as we walk to the venue. "So, you already know Josh. That leaves Eli and Robert. They're great, though Robert can be kind of... unfiltered at times." Nodding, I respond, "Cool! What type of music do you guys play? Should I be expecting jazz or heavy metal slipknot-type stuff?" he laughs, free hand running through his hair. "It's like alternative rock-pop-ish. You'll like it, promise."

"Hmm... okay, I trust you." leaning up, I kiss his cheek gently, leaving a berry stain on his cheek. "Oh, shit, sorry." laughing, I try and rub the lipgloss off of his cheek. "Don't be sorry. I like it; it's cute." I blush slightly at his comment.

The two of us got closer to the venue, fans coming into view. "Don't be worried, okay? They're usually super nice." He lets his hand drift on my bare back, creating a comforting touch. "I trust you."

Soon enough, the two of us got spotted. Fans started to scream Ryan's name as he walked past, some whispering to each other, asking who I was. But Ryan was unfazed, continuing to be his happy self as he waved back to the fans, returning some highs and I love yous. Seeing him be himself around the fans made him even more attractive. How confident and unwilling to create some rockstar persona showed me how lucky I had been.

Finally, the two of us were able to slip into the venue. "I hope that wasn't too overwhelming for you." looking down at me, he moved some hair from my face. "It was fine. They seem to really love you a lot."

Nodding, he smiles. "Yeah, they're the best. Ready to meet the guys?" I hum in response, his hand falling naturally back into mine as we walk to the dressing room.

The door was already open, allowing the chatter and music coming from inside to spill into the hallway. As we walked in, the smell of cigarette smoke, wood, and metal filled my lungs and mixed to have a pleasant smell.

Ryan cleared his throat, to which the music and chatter quickly stopped. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Erin." I wave as the guys start to stand. "Erin! It's good to see you again!" Josh said, pulling me into a tight friendly hug. "It's good to see you too." hugging back, laughing lightly at his enthusiasm. "I'm Eli. It's nice to meet you. Ryan seriously wouldn't shut up about you." we hug quickly before I meet the final band member. "I'm Robert. It's grand to meet you." I gave out the last hug. Though I was nervous before meeting the lads, they all seemed nice. "It's really wonderful to meet you all too. I'm super excited to watch you play!"

"I'm going to show her around a bit more before they let everyone in for the show. I'll see you, lads, in a few." As we walk back out of the room, I give them a little wave, hoping that I seemed friendly in our small interaction.

"Soooo, you always talk about me, do ya?" I nudge his side a few times before we start laughing. "I'm not even going to try and pretend like I don't. I like you a lot." he rubs his nape, making his slight embarrassment more noticeable. "I like you a lot, too." my arm loops around him as I rest my head on his shoulder.

We chatted as we walked around before, and finally, the two of us ended up on the stage. Ryan pointed out the guy's guitars before we got to the drum set. "It's so cool that you play the drums. It really fits your character." My fingers glide across the smooth cold metal of the symbols. "You're so fucking sweet," he kisses my head. "Here, sit down. I'll teach you how to play a little something." He settles himself on the stool, then pats his knee.

Sitting down on his knee, I move my hair, allowing it to lay across my shoulder, exposing my bare back and tattoo. "Holy shit Erin, this is beautiful." his hand travels down my spine, stopping at my mid-back. "I'm glad you like it. Lilies of the Vally they're my favorite." he takes a pair of drumsticks out of their holder. "I'll keep that in mind."

Handing me the drumsticks, his arms lay across mine, hands helping me hold the drumsticks in my own. "Okay, let me just test this," he stepped on the foot pedal, causing a thud to vibrate off the bass. "Hmm, okay, cool, ready?" nodding, our arms start to move together. It was just a simple beat, but it was fun to experience something Ryan was passionate about.

After a little bit of play, we stopped, the vibrations of the drums melting into the floor. I turned to face him, "See, you're not half bad." he smiled, hands moving from my arms to around my waist. "I think that's just because I have such an amazing teacher." I didn't know what it was, but at this moment, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. "Oh really? How good?" Ryan's gaze moved from my eyes to my lips and back up again. My heart beats faster as I lean down, our lips connecting shyly but soon melting together as the kiss becomes deeper.

Pulling away, my heart settled slightly. "Prove my point?" I move some hair from his face. "I think I need to test that again." he gives me a soft kiss, the biggest smile on his face. "Yeah, the point is proven." I shake my head. "You're such a dork."

Finally, it was time for the show. The fans' energy was terrific as they crowded into the venue, adorning cowboy hats and other fun accessories. Because I didn't want to take a good spot away from someone, I opted to stand on the side of the stage. "Hey, you're going to kill it out there." Squeezing Ryan's hand, I give him a peck on the cheek before he and the band member have to settle on the stage. "Thanks, love. I hope you enjoy." He returned the squeeze before the boys got the cue to go onstage.

The fan erupted in cheers as the boys walked on. Even though I only knew Ryan well, I was proud of all four lads. From what Ryan told me, they worked so hard to get where they are now, and it's so beautiful seeing someone you care about achieve their dreams.

The music was fucking amazing. I couldn't help myself from dancing and yelling along with the crowd. The energy was like nothing I had felt before, and being able to feel the mix of the instruments vibrate through the floor put me into some sort of trance. And Ryan, holy shit, it was amazing to see him play. Every once in a while, we would make eye contact between songs, or when the guys were switching out his guitars, even in a moment where he should feel like he's on top of the world, he would mouth things like 'Are you okay?' or 'Are you having fun?'. Fuck, he was literally the sweetest, and I made sure to show that I was enjoying myself to the fullest.

"Thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight. We'd like to dedicate our last song of the night to a very special person." Eli's voice melted into the microphone and out of the speakers as he spoke, his eyes shifting to glance at me. Cocking my eyebrow in confusion, I look to Ryan, trying to get some calcification. "Me?" I say, pointing to myself. He nods, before the start of When I'm With You starts blasting through the speakers, the fans screaming along with the lyrics.

I couldn't help but stand there speechless, my eyes never leaving Ryan. Once the song ended, the crowd roared, the guys saying their goodbyes, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd. Ryan was the first to walk off stage, his arms instantly wrapped around my body in a tight hug. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he looks down at me, the cheekiest grin on his face. "Enjoy myself? Ryan, I had the best fucking time. You're amazing! The lads are amazing! You didn't have to dedicate that last song to me," my eyes shift away from his, "You're the sweetest person I've ever met." we exchanged a small kiss, and the boys made some joking groaning noise that caused me to blush under the dim backstage lights.

The rest of the night, the guys and I hung out, just drinking and talking. It was nice to get to know the rest of the band. They were all so sweet and funny. I couldn't believe that I had found someone so perfect who had friends that I had clicked with. At around two in the morning, we decided it was time to pack up and get some rest.

The night had a slight chill, which prickled against my warm skin. "I'll walk you back to your place," Ryan said, loading the last part of his drum kit into the van. My hand extended to him, and he took it, the two of us walking down the street close together. "I really did have a wonderful time tonight. It means a lot that you invited me out." My head rests on his shoulder as we walk. "I'm glad you like it, Erin. Feel free to come to any of our shows, okay?" I nod, and the two of us finally reach my apartment.

My heart protested as the two of us stood in front of the blue door of my apartment, my hands still in his. "We'll see each other soon, yeah? Maybe go out somewhere in a few days?" he pulls me closer as he speaks. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot." I smile up at him before giving him a goodnight kiss. "Goodnight, Erin." one of his hands breaks away from mine. "Goodnight, Ryan."

He moves to leave, but I speak up before our hands can break away from their hold on one another. "Hey, do you want to stay the night?" he turns back, smiling. "I'd love that more than you know." The two of us enter my apartment, tangled in each other's arms again.

Even though it was early in the morning, we stayed up, talking, kissing, and never leaving each other's sides. Honestly, it was one of the best nights of my life. Who knew meeting a boy in a recorded story would change your life.

[rainbowbobatea]

A Day of Deliveries💐🌹🥀

Shar's day is going from bad to worse.

First, hair appointment was cancelled last minute. Then, it started to pour during a walk. And now? She’s stuck at home. She stares out the window, watching raindrops race down the glass, each one a reminder of her ruined plans. Her reflection stares back, hair a mess thanks to the canceled appointment. She runs her fingers through the tangled strands, wincing.

"Ugh, why today of all days?" she mutters, flopping onto the couch.

Her phone buzzes. A message from Hugh pops up: "Miss you, babe. Wish I could be there."

Shar's heart aches. She types back: "Miss you mooore. This day sucks :(“

She scrolls through her camera roll, lingering on photos of her and Hugh. His smile, those strong arms wrapped around her...ugh, it’s not fair. Why does he have to be halfway across the world filming when she needs him most?

Another buzz. Hugh again: "Make sure you stay home all day, okay?"

Shar raises an eyebrow. "You don't have to ask me twice. It's pouring outside anyway..."

She tosses her phone aside, curiosity piqued but too drained to dwell on it. The rain intensifies, drumming against the roof. Shar closes her eyes, trying to find comfort in the rhythmic sound.

Minutes later, the doorbell chimes.

"You've got to be kidding me," Shar grumbles, hauling herself off the couch.

She shuffles to the door, not bothering to check her appearance. Who cares? It's probably just another package she forgot she ordered.

Shar swings the door open. A delivery person stands there, holding an enormous bouquet of roses.

"Delivery for Shar?" they say, thrusting the flowers towards her.

"Oh! Um, yes, that's me," Shar stammers, caught off guard.

She takes the bouquet, its sweet fragrance filling her nostrils. A small card nestles among the blooms. She plucks it out, reading the familiar scrawl:

"To brighten your day. All my love, Hugh."

"Awww, that is so sweet," Shar coos, a smile spreading across her face.

She brings the roses inside, searching for a vase. As she arranges them on the kitchen counter, her stomach growls loudly.

Shar's smile fades a bit. "But... I can't eat roses. I am starving."

She glances at her phone, wondering if she should text Hugh a thank you. Before she can decide, another message from him pops up:

"Did you get my surprise? ;)"

Shar grins, typing back: "Just got them! They're gorgeous, babe. Thank you <3"

She hits send, then adds: "Though I wish they were edible lol. My stomach's doing its best whale impression right now."

Shar's stomach growls again as she stares at the beautiful roses. They're a sweet gesture, but they don't exactly satisfy her hunger. She's about to head to the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat when another knock echoes through the house.

"What now?" she mutters, padding back to the door.

She swings it open, ready to sign for yet another delivery. Instead, the mouthwatering aroma of burgers and fries hits her nose. A delivery guy stands there, holding a familiar white and red bag.

"In-N-Out for Shar?" he asks. “And…Crumbl cookie?”

Her eyes widen. "Uh, yes! That's me!"

She takes the box of cookies and the bag, inhaling deeply. The scent of grilled onions and fresh-cut fries makes her mouth water. As she closes the door, she notices a note taped to the bag:

"Thought you might need some real food. Enjoy, love. - H"

Shar grins, shaking her head. "You’re so over the top.”

She plops down on the couch, spreading out her feast. Double-double, animal style fries, and a shake. Her stomach rumbles in anticipation as she unwraps the burger.

"Mmm," she moans, taking a big bite. The flavors explode on her tongue - juicy beef, melted cheese, grilled onions, and that special sauce. It's exactly what she needed.

She picks up a still-warm chocolate chip cookie, taking a big bite. It's soft and gooey, with just the right amount of chocolate. Shar closes her eyes, savoring the sweetness. Another text from Hugh pops up:

"How's the food, babe?"

She grins, typing back: "You're too good to me. It's perfect."

As she's reaching for a second cookie, the doorbell rings yet again. Shar pauses mid-reach, cookie hovering inches from her mouth.

"Damn, Hugh," she exclaims, laughing. "I’m not that hungry!"

She sets the cookie down and heads to the door, wondering what on earth could be next. This time, it's a small package.

Curious, Shar signs and takes the package. It's light and about the size of a shoebox. She brings it inside, examining the label. It's from an eyewear company she doesn't recognize.

Shar tears open the package, revealing a sleek glasses case. Inside, she finds a pair of adorable pink glasses. They're exactly the style she's been eyeing for months.

"No way," she breathes, trying them on.

They fit perfectly, the pink frames complementing her skin tone beautifully. Shar rushes to the mirror, admiring her reflection. She can't believe Hugh remembered her mentioning wanting a new pair of glasses. It was such a casual comment, made in passing weeks ago.

Still surprised, Shar grabs her phone. She snaps a quick selfie with her new glasses, the roses visible in the background. She sends it to Hugh with the caption:

"You're unbelievable. How did you remember?”

His reply comes almost instantly: "I always listen when you talk, babe. You look gorgeous."

Shar blushes, her heart swelling with affection. She types back:

"I don't know how you pulled all this off from across the world, but thank you. I love you so much."

Hugh: "I love you more :)”

Feeling a bit better, Shar takes a bunch of more selfies to send to him. The roses make a perfect backdrop as she holds up her new pink glasses. She's about to set her phone down when another knock echoes through the apartment. Shar pauses, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Again?" she says aloud, glancing at the door. "What else could there possibly be?"

Curiosity gets the better of her, and she makes her way to the door. This time, she peeks through the peephole first, half-expecting to see Hugh himself standing there with that cheeky grin of his. But it's just another delivery person, handing her what looks like a large, squishy package.

As Shar takes the package, she can feel how incredibly soft it is even through the wrapping. Her fingers sink into the plush material, and she finds herself stroking it absently as she closes the door.

Back in the living room, she tears open the package, revealing a blanket so adorable it makes her gasp. It's pink, incredibly fluffy, and covered in Hello Kitty designs. Shar immediately wraps it around her shoulders, reveling in its warmth and softness.

"Aww, seriously?" she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

As she adjusts the blanket, a small card falls to the floor. Shar bends to pick it up, recognizing Hugh's handwriting immediately. It reads:

"For when you miss my hugs."

He's just too adorable. She clutches the blanket tighter, imagining Hugh's strong arms around her instead. Well…okay, it's not the same, but it's a sweet gesture that makes her feel remembered.

"Awww, babe!" she exclaims.

Shar settles onto the couch, cocooned in her new Hello Kitty blanket. She reaches for another cookie from the Crumbl box, munching contentedly as she waits for Hugh's response.

The rain continues to patter against the windows, and she feels kinda guilty for making all these delivery men run through such shitty weather.

Almost.

Shar's peaceful moment is interrupted by yet another knock on the door. She blinks, her cookie halfway to her mouth.

"You've got to be kidding me," she mutters, setting the cookie down. "Who is it now?"

Reluctantly, she untangles herself from the Hello Kitty blanket and pads to the door. She's lost count of how many deliveries she's received today. Part of her wonders if Hugh has somehow arranged for an endless parade of gifts to arrive.

"Another delivery for Shar," the delivery man sighs, drenched from the rain.

"That's me."

"Yeah, I know…"

As she closes the door, she examines the package. It's wrapped in bright yellow paper with red balloons printed all over it. A familiar cartoon bear peeks out from the corner of the wrapping.

"No way," Shar gasps, her eyes widening.

She hurries to the living room, placing the box on the coffee table. Eagerly, she tears away the wrapping paper, revealing a cardboard box adorned with the unmistakable image of Winnie the Pooh.

Shar lifts the lid, and her breath catches in her throat. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, are three adorable plush toys: Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, and Eeyore.

"Awww," she whispers, gently lifting Pooh out of the box.

The plushies are sooo soft. She hugs them close, inhaling the fresh, new-toy scent. Shar arranges the three plushies on the couch, stepping back to take a picture of them. She texts it to Hugh.

"Okay, NOW you're just showing off. How did you know about my Pooh obsession?"

His reply comes quickly: "A little birdie told me. Or should I say, a little Piglet? ;)"

Shar rolls her eyes. "You are way too corny."

She settles back onto the couch, pulling the Hello Kitty blanket around her shoulders and hugging Pooh close. As she reaches for another cookie, her phone buzzes with another message from Hugh:

"I'm glad you like them, babe. Wish I could be there to see your face."

Shar smiles, typing back: "Me too. Though I hope this is the last delivery. My apartment's starting to look like a gift shop!"

Hugh's response is a simple laughing emoji, which makes Shar narrow her eyes suspiciously. Knowing him, there could very well be more surprises on the way…

Knock, knock, knock.

Well, looks like she's right.

"Coming!"

With a mix of excitement and slight exasperation, she makes her way to the door. As she opens it, she's met with the sight of a the same thoroughly drenched and visibly annoyed delivery man. Before Shar can even utter a word, he thrusts a package into her hands.

"Another one," he grumbles, not even waiting for a response before turning on his heel and stomping away.

Shar rolls her eyes at his attitude, though she can't entirely blame him—she'd be mad too if she had to spend a whole day giving gifts to someone in the rain. She quickly shuts the door, leaning against it as she inspects the package in her hands. It's smaller than the previous ones, about the size of a shoebox, and surprisingly light.

"Chile, I'm so confused what this could be," she murmurs, turning the box over in her hands.

As if on cue, her phone buzzes. Shar sets the package down on the nearby table and fishes her phone out of her pocket. It's a message from Hugh - a single winking emoji.

Seconds later, another text pops up: "Hope you like what's inside..."

Shar's eyebrows shoot up. This man….I can't sometimes.

She picks up the package again, carrying it to the living room. Settling on the couch, she begins to carefully unwrap it; the Winnie the Pooh plushies watch with their stitched-on eyes as she peels away the layers of packaging.

Finally, Shar lifts the lid off the box. Her eyes widen, and her mouth forms a perfect 'O' of surprise as she realizes what's inside.

There, nestled in tissue paper, is a sleek, modern vibrator.

"H-hugh!?"

Shar's eyes go wide as saucers, her cheeks flushing at the sight of the vibrator. She pulls out her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen as she debates texting him.

But before she can draft a response, her phone starts ringing. Hugh's name flashes on the screen. She answers, curiosity and anticipation swirling in her stomach.

"Hey love," Hugh's deep voice rumbles over the line. "…I hope you play with yourself while I'm away."

Shar's mouth falls open, but before she can respond, he hangs up.

"…um," Shar breathes, setting her phone down. She had joked about wanting sex toys in the past, but she never expected Hugh to take it seriously…

Slipping away, Shar carries the box into her bedroom, locking the door behind her. She climbs onto her bed, her heart pounding...slowly, she unbuttons her jeans, sliding them off along with her panties. She traces her fingers over her exposed skin, her breath quickening…

Shar turns on the vibrator, the soft buzz filling the room. She runs it gently over her thighs, teasing herself as her body responds to the touch. Her eyes drift closed as she leans back, her head resting on the pillows, teasing it against her-

Knock, knock.

Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?

"Ugh, seriously?" Shar groans, her eyes snapping open.

Annoyed at the interruption, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and wraps the blanket around herself. She pads to the door, pulling it open to reveal yet another delivery person, this one looking equally as exasperated as she feels.

"Yeah, me too," Shar sighs.

The delivery person sighs in response, thrusting a package into her arms before leaving. She tears open the wrapping, her eyes widening at the contents.

"Oh, Hugh," she breathes, her cheeks flushing again.

Inside is a set of lingerie - a sheer black bra and matching thong, along with a silk robe. The fabric is soft and luxurious, shimmering in the light. As if on cue, her phone buzzes with a text from

Hugh: "Wear this for daddy, ok?"

Her heart skips a beat. Flashes of him coming home, and tearing off her thong so she can ride his thigh flashes into her mind. She swallows. With trembling fingers, she types back a quick response:

"yes, sir."

Hugh: "Good. Good girl."

Shar's heart races as she slips into the lingerie Hugh sent. The sheer black fabric clings to her curves, making her feel exposed…she runs her hands over the silky material, imagining Hugh's touch instead of her own. His rough hands instead of her soft palms…

Knock! Knock!

Just as she's adjusting the straps of the bra, a loud knock on her bedroom door makes her jump out of her skin. Her heart leaps into her throat, panic setting in. Who could that be?

The front door was locked...or did she accidentally leave it unlocked?

A terrifying thought crosses her mind - did the delivery man break in, seeking revenge for all those trips up the stairs in the pouring rain? Shar's eyes dart around the room, looking for something to defend herself with. She spots the baseball bat under her bed, something she stashed away just in case.

Perfect.

Shar grabs the bat, her palms sweaty against the worn grip. She creeps towards the door, her bare feet silent on the carpet. The knocking comes again, more insistent this time. Shar takes a deep breath, steeling herself.

In one swift motion, she yanks open the door and swings the bat with all her might. But before it can connect, a familiar voice cries out.

"Stop!"

Shar freezes mid-swing, the bat hovering inches from Hugh's face. Her eyes widen in shock and disbelief.

"Hugh!?"

He stands there, hands raised in surrender, a mixture of amusement and alarm on his face. Shar lowers the bat, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now.

"Chile, you nearly scared me to death!" she exclaims, her voice a mix of relief and exasperation. "What are you doing here? I thought you were away filming?"

Hugh stands in the doorway, his hands still raised in a gesture of surrender. "I-I wanted to surprise you," he says, his voice a mix of sheepishness and excitement.

Shar lowers the bat completely, her heart still racing. "And surprise me you did," she replies, her tone caught between annoyance and relief.

She's about to launch into how close she was to beating him up, but the words die on her lips as she notices the look on Hugh's face. His eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted, and there's an intensity in his gaze that makes her breath catch in her throat.

"What?" she asks, suddenly self-conscious.

Hugh swallows hard, his eyes roaming over her body. "You just…look so good in that," he says, his voice low and husky.

It's only then that Shar remembers what she's wearing - or rather, what she's barely wearing. The sheer black lingerie leaves little to the imagination, and she feels a flush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks as she stares at him.

He's drenched from the rain, his usually perfectly styled hair now a wet, tousled mess. Droplets of water cling to his scruffy beard, and his shirt is plastered to his chest, outlining every muscle. Shar finds herself staring, her earlier irritation melting away.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," he says softly. "It's just that... I missed you so much. So fucking much, babe."

Shar' drops the bat, letting it clatter to the floor as Hugh closes the distance between them.

"You're soaked," she says, her fingers playing with the wet strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

Hugh chuckles. "Mhm. And you're soaked too, love."

Shar gives him a look. "What are you talking about? I wasn't in the rain-"

The smirk on his face stops her next words. It suddenly dawns upon her what he actually meant. Jaw dropping, she shoves him away, crossing her arms in embarrassment.

"BABE!"

"Yessss?" Hugh sings.

Realization hits her, and her eyes go wide. "Wait, were you secretly watching from somewhere…?”

"Maybe…maybe not."

"You perv!" Shar yells, hitting him.

Hugh chuckles, his eyes darkening with desire. "You have no idea."

Shar's breath quickens as she leans in, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. She parts her lips, tasting the rawness of him. Their tongues dance as she loses herself in the sensation of finally having him here, really here.

Hugh responds with a growl, his hands tightening on her hips. He lifts her up and brings her to the bed, settling her on his lap. He guides her, grinding her against his thigh, letting her feel the hardness of him beneath his jeans.

"You've been such a good girl while I've been away," he murmurs against her lips, his breath warm on her skin. "Daddy's gonna reward you."

Shar whimpers, her body throbbing with need. She grinds herself against his thigh, seeking relief from the insistent throbbing. "Please..." she breathes, not sure what she's begging for, but knowing she needs something.

"That's it, baby," Hugh rasps, his lips trailing down her neck. "Ride daddy's leg, feel better. Daddy's sorry for being away for so long."

Shar's head falls back as she rides his damp leg, seeking that perfect spot. His strong thigh presses against her, providing the delicious friction she craves. She keens, feeling a rush of wetness pooling between her thighs.

"Grind against me, baby," Hugh urges. "Don't stop until you cum. You better not stop."

Shar whimpers, but obeys. She loses herself as she grinds her sensitive nub against him, the scratch of his scruffy beard against her neck, and the scent of his cologne filling her lungs.

"That's it, baby," Hugh groans, his voice hoarse. "Let go. Cum for daddy."

Shar cries out, her body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. Her vision blurs, and her knees weaken, but Hugh holds her tightly, his thigh still moving against her even as he whispers filthy praises into her ear.

Finally, she whimpers, her body boneless as she collapses against him. Hugh smiles softly, brushing the hair from her forehead and placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

"That's my good girl," he murmurs, his voice warm and loving.

[1-sasha-stuff-1]

Into Another World - Mha x Reader

Chapter 7: First Impressions

A/n - Here's another chapter for you all!

| | | | Key:

h/s = hair style

h/c = hair color

f/s = favorite snack

t/n = teacher's name

e/c = eye color

| | | | | |

4 Days later - April 5th 

Time: 7:00 am

| | | | | |  

Putting my hair in a h/s, I check myself over in the full-length mirror in my room. I’m wearing the middle school uniform that they’ve provided me with, the black skirt, blazer, white shirt underneath, and a nice tie. Honestly, I don’t look too bad. 

“Y/n! It’s almost time to go!”

“Coming mom!”

Grabbing my backpack on the way out of my room, I close my door and head downstairs where the fresh scent of pancakes fully awakens me. Upon reaching the main floor, I go into the kitchen and sit down, putting my backpack down beside my seat as I dig into the pancakes and drink my glass of milk.

After the dinner at the Midoriya’s and heading home, the next few days were spent organizing and putting things in its place here at home. My parents would mostly move in all the big stuff and head off to work while I would be in charge of just placing it where mom told me where it would look best. We pretty much finished placing everything yesterday, so it was nice to finally have a ‘complete’ house now.

The last few days were also pretty fun, Izuku and I would text or call over the phone for a few hours and we hung out for a while as well. Of course, I never forgot about Shinsou, we talked over the phone as well and I eventually told him about Izuku and he seemed chill about it because I was finally “spreading my wings' ', he isn't wrong about that though. Joking or not, I was actually practicing more in the aspect of trying to fly with my hornet wings, but I guess I’m not used to them yet, mostly, I end up in bushes when trying them out.

“It’s 7: 30, we should get going before you're late on your first day Y/n.” my mother said as she started to put her shoes on at the door, grabbing her car keys, she adds. 

“I’ll wait for you in the car.”

Getting up, I put my dirty dishes into the dishwasher and wash my hands. I then go and grab my bag and start to put on my shoes. Hearing a honk from a car outside, I grab my phone and headphones and shove them in my bag as I rush out the door and enter my mom’s car.

“What took you so long? I have a meeting in a few minutes, and I can’t be late y/n, you know this.”

“I know, sorry mom. I’ll be faster next time.”

The car ride was silent the whole way to the school, neither of us saying anything. 

As we got to the front of the building, Emica unlocked the door, and I opened the door and hopped out of the passenger seat. 

“Love you mom!”

“Love you too, now, neither your father nor I will be here to pick you up at the end of the day, we’ll most likely be in Tokyo. I placed some money in your back account if you want to take the train or for food, okay?”

“Okay, thanks mom.”

Right after closing the door, the car went speeding off away from the young teen. She turned around and whispered to herself as she started to walk towards the front door of the building.

“Well, back to hell it is then….”

| | | | | |

Time - 7:40 am

| | | | | |  

“-and this is where we usually eat lunch! O-or anywhere really.”

Izuku and I were standing at the entrance of the lunchroom which is also called the common room during the mornings before classes start (they start at 8). We’ve spent the last few minutes with him showing me around the school and where all my classes will be, and he also has the same classes as me so that’s a plus. 

“S-so yea! Those are all your classes, and we can walk together if y-you want! Idon’twantyoutofeelpressuredintothinkingyouhavetowalkwithmeeverydayand-”

“H-hey, Izuku! It’s totally fine, we can walk to class together. Hey, do you want to walk with me after school as well? My parents are going to be at a meeting, and they won’t be able to pick me up.”

“U-uh? Oh! Yea, we can walk together!”

“Okay cool, hey, how about after school you can ask your mom we can hang out and go to the mall or something? We can go and-”

Before finishing my sentence, something just shoves me out of the way and I stumble and trip on my own feet, resulting in falling onto the ground.

“At least I wore leggings, thank go..”

“Oi, move out the way you damn extra! Can’t you see I’m walking here?!”

“Well, who do you think you are huh?” Looking up, I see the one and only Bakugo. Why am I not surprised? Obviously, we’d be in the same school. He seemed to finally recognize who I was based on the pissed off expression on his face.

“You…...”

Midoriya, not wanting his new friend (and his only one at the moment) to get hurt, tried to speak up but as usual, he was shut down.

“Y-y/n, I don’t think-”

“Shut it you damn nerd! And you!”, pointing at the h/c girl,

“You're the damn extra that took my food! Don’t think that you beat me!”

The girl, as per usual, didn’t keep quiet as she talked back at the loud-mouth boy.

“Me? Beat you? No, I didn’t beat you, I practically demolished you in that store. Anything for that bag of f/s I guess.”, while looking proud of herself, the boy in front of her was practically fuming with rage and embarrassment as his ‘friends’ were ‘oohing’.

“Na man, you let a girl beat you?”

“Damn, Bakugo my man, what happened?”

“Shut up! She didn’t beat me damn it!” the blond boy yelled out as the girl stood up. Shortly after standing up, the bell rang indicating the first bell to head to your homeroom.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around! Let's head to homeroom Izuku, we won’t want to be late now, would we?” grabbing hold of Izuku’s forearm, the two of you book it before Bakugo could lose his cool. 

As the two of you speed-walk at first and then walk normally, knowing that Bakugo was long behind, you pay no attention to the two of you, you don’t realize the look on Izuku’s face as you're still holding onto his forearm. 

To say that the boy was embarrassed was an understatement, he was about to explode at this point, his mind was spiraling through a rabbit hole of emotions and thoughts. 

“She’s holding onto my arm, she’s holding onto my arm, she’sholdingontomyarm-”

“Hey Izuku, you cool?”

His mind stopped as he got pulled away from his thoughts and faced the girl who gave him a questioning look on her face. 

“Why, am I-?”

“Y-yea, I’m okay, haha. Just worried that Kachan might have gotten too aggressive with you though...”

“Well, Kachan can go to hell for all I care.”

“Y-y/n! Don’t say that! What if he heard you! A-and Kachan is just a nickname I gave him, you know, since we were friends when we were younger.” the boy exclaimed as he looked in all directions to see if the hot-head was anywhere nearby.

Like the actress you are, you put on a dumbfounded expression and look at Izuku. Even though you know who ‘Kachan’ is, he doesn't know that and would probably seem weirded out if you already knew his name.

“Well, if Kachan is his nickname, what’s his real name?”

“Oh, his name is Bakugo Katsuki.”

Both of you finally enter a classroom full of students already in their seats as the teacher looks over at the two of you in the doorway. 

“Midoriya! You're already late on the first day, do you want to get detention already? Get in your seat.”

The said boy nods and quickly sits himself at one of the desks on the far side of the classroom as some of the students look at him with disgust and others whisper as he passes by. The teacher, otherwise known as Mr. t/n looks over at you and smiles.

“Ah! You must be the new student! Come up to the front and introduce yourself!”

Shuffling and moving yourself to face the front of the class, you stare at them as they stare back and all of a sudden, your anxiety spikes up.

“Why are they looking at me like that? Is my hair weird? Wait, I’m wearing the wrong uniform?! Oh, no I’m not, the other girls are wearing the same one as me…”

Blinking out of your thoughts, you take a small deep breath to calm yourself down and speak with the non-existent confidence you had.

“Hi, my name is L/n Y/n, um, yea that’s my name.”

T/n smiled and looked at the rest of the class. 

“Alright thank you L/n! Now does anyone have any questions?”

One of the students from the front row raised her hand and was called upon.

“Why do you sound weird? When you like speaking and all.”

“Great, new achievement unlocked; being afraid to speak because of the accent.”

Smiling, I respond, “Well, I kind of was exposed to English speakers more when at a young age so I have that so called ‘weird’ American accent.”

Well, it wasn't entirely a lie, I did end up watching more SpongeBob in English than in Japanese when I was younger. 

A few more students asked some other questions and now about 5 minutes have passed, and I want to sit down already. The teacher must have seemed to notice because he stood up and put his hands together.

“Alright students, just one more question and we’ll have to get started with homeroom! Um, yes you!”

The student that was picked was one of Bakugo’s friends on the way back.

“Yea, so like, what’s your quirk?”

“My quirk? Well, my quirk is called Hornet. It’s pretty much what a regular hornet has, I have wings that I can store in my back and pull them out if I need to, I can also make stingers come out of my knuckles.”

To demonstrate, I hold up my right hand up to them and close my hand into a fist, causing jet black spikes to appear from where my knuckles were, after a few seconds, I unclench my fist and they disappear. I chose to hold onto the information on being able to create some poison within each stinger, I chose not to, the reason, I wasn't really sure why yet. 

“I can also shrink myself and grow in height, but I’m still trying to get the hang of it.” 

The class begins to talk amongst themselves while some of the students praise my quirk and tell me how ‘cool’ I am while others, not liking the idea that I was so called ‘better’ then them.

“Wow! That must be an awesome quirk to have!”

“Totally would love to have that power!”

“Huh, imagine being an insect...”

“I know right? Like, I could never!”

T/n then cleared his throat, and the class went silent after a few seconds.

“Alright! Let's get started with homeroom alright. Oh! Y/n, where should I place you? Uhhhhh, there! Right next to Bakugo. Bakugo, could you raise your hand?”

With an irritated expression, he raises his hand, and you see that there’s in fact, an empty seat to his left.

Forcing to move your legs, you walk towards the seat as you pass Izuku who gives you an apologetic smile. Arriving at the desk, you sit in it and cross your arms over your chest. You're about to say something until you hear the teacher say some words that killed you from the inside out.

“Now, these seats will be your assigned seats for the rest of the year!”

 Glancing over at Bakugo who was now to the right of you, looked back at you with a smirk.

“I’m goanna make your life a living hell.”

Putting on a fake smile, you say back sarcastically. 

“Well, isn't this going to be bloody lovely?”

| | | | | | | | Time - 3:00 

| | | | | | |  

The last bell had just rung, and everyone was leaving the building as you stood in the now empty classroom, waiting for Midoriya to gather his things so you both could leave. 

“So did you mom say yes?”

“Yea she did, I just have to be home before it gets too dark.”

“Oh okay, I’ll text my mom that I’ll be home later as well.”

Pulling out your phone, you text your mom that you’ll be hanging out with Midoriya for a while, after having sent the message she read it and well, just left you to read.

“Ain't no way she left me on read.”

Deciding to deal with it later, you put the phone back into your skirt pocket (thank God they have pockets) and grab your bag from the floor as Midoriya already has his on his back. 

The two friends make their way down the hall and out of the building, lucky enough, didn’t cross paths with a certain blond boy with anger issues.

“Okay Y/n, where are we going?”

“We can go to the mall if you want, or anywhere you want to go, I don’t mind.”

“O-Okay, we can head over to the mall.”

| | | | | |  

Time skip - at the mall (because the author is lazy -_-)

| | | | | |

Looking around, the green haired boy and the h/c girl see multiple stores and people all around them. The girl looked at the boy with her e/c and begins to question him.

“So, do you want to go to a specific store or just walk around and let it roll from there?”

“We can just walk around if you want, or do you have a specific store you want to go to?” Midoriya asked as they just stood at the entrance of the mall, waiting for the girl to respond.

“Well, I think I might get some weights from that one workout store, do you mind?”

“N-no of course not! Anywhere is fine y/n!”

“As long as we’re together.”

The girl nods and they both begin to walk into the mall.

| | | | | |  

Time skip - 30 minutes later

| | | | | |  

After buying some weights from the workout store, they both just began to just talk and walk through different stores that caught their interest, one of the stores being an all-superhero themed store where there’s a bunch of merch of different types of heroes from not only Japan but other countries as well. 

We entered the store and Midoriya’s inner fanboy came out as he started to look at everything and anything about heroes as if he was a child in a candy store.

“I can’t believe they have this much stuff! Oh look! It’s an Edgeshot figure, oh and a documentary on Mirko!”

He held the book and action figure in his hands as he started to talk about the different heroes and all. Setting down the book and figure in their places on the shelf, Midoriya practically drags Y/n throughout the entire store until they enter an entire aisle dedicated to All Might themed stuff. 

We spent the next 30 minutes in that store as Midoriya kept looking at one specific product, an All Might themed hoodie next to other hero hoodies. Finally, we left the store after a while and headed towards the food court near it. 

As I sat down back at our table, waiting for our order of food, I looked towards Izuku in front of me and I got a bright idea. Standing right back up, he looks at me from his phone.

“Y/n, where are you going?”

“Don’t worry Izuku, I’ll be right back in a flash!", running off and leaving the confused green-haired boy at the table, I head towards the Hero-themed store and go towards that one aisle were the All Might hoodie was.

I snatched the hoodie right off the rack, checking to make sure it’s about his size, I made my way back to the front of the store to pay for it until another hoodie from a hero I liked was my all-time favorite hero next to All Might. Ginning, I also snatched the hoodie off its rack, finding it was just my size and finally began to make my way back to the cashier to pay the hoodies off. 

“Thank you young lady and have a good day!”

“Thank you! Have a good day too!”

Leaving the store and making your way back to where Midoriya was probably waiting, you look down at the shopping bags with a smile, hoping that he would like the gift you got him. 

Turning the corner and walking into the food court, you look around to find Izuku grabbing the food and sit back down at the table looking around until he catches your eyes, and you smile and walk over towards him.

“Hey Y/n, where were you?”

Sitting down and giving him one of the shopping bags and smiling as he takes it in his hands with a confused face.

“I got something for you!”

“Y-y/n, you shouldn’t have gotten me anything-”

“Nonsense Izuku, just open it, you’ll love it for sure! Well, hopefully you will…”

The boy gulps and smiles at you with his face turning slightly red as he grips onto the shopping bag. 

“I’ll like anything you g-get me y-y/n.”

“Aww, thanks Izuku! Know, open it!" smiling, you see him go through the bag and his small smile turns into a bigger one when he pulls out the All Might themed hoodie from the bag with stars in his eyes. 

“Oh my god it’s the All Might hoodie I saw at that one store!”

He starts to go on (again) about All Might until he abruptly stops and looks at me. Confusion swept onto my face as I looked back at him.

“Izuku, are you okay? If you don’t like it, I can return it for a different one or-”

“N-no it’s not that y/n, it’s just, you didn’t have to get it for me you know…wait, let me pay you back!”

“No, you're not going to pay me back Izuku, it was a gift.”

“But-”

“Hey, I said keep it, okay? It was my own choice to get it for you so keep it.”, smiling, your smile practically blinded him as he stared at the girl for a few seconds and smiled back, in his mind, he mentally noted how he could repay you back for your kindness one day. 

“I’ll repay you back y/n, one day I will.”

“Thanks Y/n,”

| | | | | |

Time - 6:45 pm

| | | | | | |  

Walking next to each other, Izuku and Y/n walk down the streets, and the leaves on the trees move with a gentle breeze. As the two walked, the sun had already begun to set despite it being around 7 in the evening, the sky was filled with hues of orange, purple, and pink. The sun was like an orb set on fire and as you both walked past the beach filled with trash, that would soon be one without, so as long Izuku stays on this path of becoming a hero and nothing interferes, including yourself.

“We should really do this again Izuku.”

“Y-yea! We should do this again.”

The boy doesn't know it yet but, the feelings he’s been feeling for the girl ever since he saw her e/c eyes, it wasn't admiration now at this point, but something more. But alas, he was still young and new to the feelings, so he pushed them away for the time being. But sooner or later, he’ll come to realize these feelings for the girl.

| | | | | |  

Arriving at his apartment complex a few minutes ago, you both now stand in front of his apartment door as you were the one to walk him home. 

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you then, need your beauty sleep for school tomorrow, right?”

“Yea, you do to Y/n…”, Midoriya said as he opened his apartment door and stepped inside. About to close the door, he looks at the girl who is now walking away from him, without thinking, he speaks his mind.

“Thank you, Y/n.,”

The girl stopped in her tracks and turned around and looked back at him, confusion on her face this time. 

“Thank you? Oh! For the hoodie, right? I told you Izuku, it’s totally-”

“N-no, not for the hoodie…”

“Uh? For what then?”

Midoriya shuffled in place and looked down at his feet, then he looked back up, eyes bright, he stared back at those beautiful e/c eyes full of life.

“Thank you for being with me, for being my friend Y/n. That’s why I’m thanking you.”

Y/n stares right back at him, she then smiles back at him, possibly brighter than the sunset right now.

“It’s no problem Izuku, I’m glad you're my friend as well.”

They stayed like that for a while, staring at each other until Midoriya shook out of his thoughts and focused on you once more. 

“T-Text me when you get home, I want to make sure you got home safe.”

“Sure will Izuku, I’ll see you at school tomorrow!”

“Right, bye Y/n!”

“See ya Izuku!”

| | | | | | | |

Closing the door behind him, he takes a deep breath, face red as he takes his shoes off and places them on the shoe mat next to the door. He looks at the shopping bag and smiles as he takes the bag and goes into the living room, taking out the hoodie from his shopping bag, he looks at it and continues to smile. 

“Where did you get that Izuku?” 

Jumping slightly, he turns around to find his mom looking over his shoulder and at the hoodie. He clutches the hoodie close to him and stutters.

“Y-Y/n got it for me when we were out at the mall…. she also got one too….”

He started to hear sniffling and turned back at his mom, seeing that her eyes were filled with tears.

“M-mom? Are you okay?”

She ripped the ‘tears’ away from her face as she closed her eyes.

“My baby boy is already growing up!”

After that was said, he looks at the poor boy and smiles brightly like she wasn't just crying earlier.

“So, when were you going to tell me you have a girlfriend already?”

“M-mom!”

| | | | | | | |

Walking home, you threw away the shopping bag as you slipped on the Eraserhead themed hoodie over your head and onto your body. It wasn't that you didn’t like All Might, but you liked both All Might and Eraserhead, but you already have an All Might themed hoodie back in your closet but not an Eraserhead one. 

“All left to get is a Mirko Action figure, Hawks Hoodie and plushie, and an Edgeshot action figure…”

Thinking to yourself and not paying attention to your surroundings, you didn’t notice the fight going on a few alleyways in front of you until you were in front of the alleyway.

Finally, being pulled away from your thoughts, you hear a loud groan from the alleyway.

“Well, curiosity never killed the cat, right?” you whisper to yourself as you enter the alleyway, curiosity getting the best of you. 

As you walk into the dark alleyway, you don’t see anything. Deciding to turn back around you do, but soon you hear a loud groan of pain coming from inside a large trash bin. 

Stopping in your tracks, you think of your options. To investigate or to not investigate, you chose the latter and walked up to the large trash bin that was closed.

Taking a deep breath, you lift up the lid, but it is a bit too heavy, so you summon your hornet wings to let you float as you open the lid. 

Once the lid was open, you sigh, mentally noting to upgrade your workout routine. Before you can go deeper into your own head, a deep, husky voice pulls you out from your thoughts.

“Well, well.... who's this angel I see? A gift from the gods to me?”

| | | | | |

[trickarrows-bishop]

LIVE BLOG OF ME REACTING TO EPISODE FIVE OF HSMTMTS

was gonna do this for episode four and forgot, kinda wish i did after all of THOSE scenes but anyways episode five lets GOOOOOO

[open with caution, i didn't realise how mentally unprepared i was]

THE WAY EJ WAS ON THE MOTHERFUCKING BANNER MADE ME SCREAM TBH LIKE BROTHER U WANT ME TO CRY FR FR

"richard bowen" "elton john" caswen is upon us (i cant even say im delusional because madlyn deadass nearly happened last episode)

"the musical is going swimmingly" girl u drowning dont lie

BYE NOT THE NEVER-ENDINGLY USED PLOT OF THE IDEA OF THE MUSICAL BEING CANCELLED I CANT GET AWAY FROM THIS FR

i gotta say kourtney repeatedly getting her moment is insane. like im so fucking happy rn over it its insane. like she's going therapy (WOOOOO THERAPY !!) and actually looking at her future !! im so happy for her im fr putting ms girl in my pocket

also when i found out her mom is played by dara's actual mom i screamed (not lying im so dramatic bye)

"lets start with questions!!" "great 'cause i have many" she is me and i am her. i am kourtney greene coded fr

4 JOBS??? EJ'S DAD CAN SUCK A DICK FR IDEC HE IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE MAN

i cant even say i want it made up bc ej said its a breath of fresh air and HE NEEDS THAT AIR FFS

"talking to val" WOHOOOO MENTION OF PAST CHARACTERS INSANE BEHAVIOR FROM THE WRITERS !! INSANE !! (im in delusion that nini will be back)

"you do look good" "thanks. you do look... terrible" real. ricky bowen me coded fr

cant believe we havent had one season where gina can just. have the lead. and no drama. like pls tim i was BEGGING like. at season two.

caitlyn (actress playing quinn the director) is so hilarious to me like i've been following her online for ages and bro its so funny seeing her on hsmtmts and doing exactly what she does in her other videos LMAO

"g force" i'll puke. fuck off.

GINA KINDA GAGGED QUINN THERE ???

LMFAO NOT HER CHANGING HER MIND JUST AT THE IDEA OF WINNING AN AWARD

EJ and ricky's duet lol they hate me. they want me to cry. im eight mins in too. cant wait to cry to this fr

update: crying over this duet what the fuc

can i just say how for certain songs on this soundtrack they've been HITTING or absolutely MISSING ???

this girl harper is GAGGING kourt LMAO "i see you standing here right now !!" SHES SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

miss jenn is not using siri rn.

CARLOS BB :(

SIRI SHUSH WITH UR BEEPING

trust the process WOHOOOO

why is it thunderstorming JESUS

22 pages U FUCKIN WHAT (never been in a musical idk seems like a lot)

why is she always wearing a cheer outfit its deadass like the character's personality is cheer outfit bro

"3 children" i need to buy a GUN

quinn i was just routing for u babe why u posting such bullshit on instagram. and was that a FILTER?

BIG RED???FHHSDHFADSJGHFKSDJHFASDKJBFSKV

BIGGIE ???dFHAKSDHFAKSJDHGFKASHDG IS THAT MY SON ???? MY SON ???? IS HE ALSO WEARING GLASSES WHAT THE FUCK OF FUCKS

anyways let me actually play the scene LOLZ

HIS FIRST WORDS ARE "ASH YOU LOOK AMAZING" BYE CANT DO THIS WHY WAS I ROUTING FOR MADLYN FFS

YK WHAT? ASHLYN HAS TWO HANDS. YEAH. THAT CAN WORK FOR ME

grandma red's 100th!! everyone cheered fr (i am everyone)

"your last text said you had something important to tell me" no i am not about to witness redlyn break up. nononono.

I KNEW IT

THE FUCKING MOMENT SEB SAID HE CHEATED I CONNECTED THE DOTS I WAS LIKE

"HMMMMM BIG RED JUST CAME OUT AS BI ??? YOU CHEATED ???? IDK ??? MAYBE SEB HELPED OR SOMETHING" LITERALLY SAID THAT SHIT OUT LOUD AND I WAS RIGHT HOLY FUCK OF FUCKS

"surprise!!" boy- i don't have TIME to even unPACK-

"you okay?" "i am GREAT" me when i LIE

HOLD UP

DID HE JUST

DID RICHARD JUST

MENTION NINI???? WHA

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

THIS WASN'T ON MY HSMTMTS SEASON 4 BINGO CARD?!!!!????

yeah im salty about how shit of an exit that was for nini. next question.

"afraid of the truth?" do u want me to try and make this gay or not richard cuz i stg u are giving me some mixed ass signals

nevermind this is really sad and heartbreaking let me shut the fuck up

AND NOW WE GO BACK TO REDLYN OKAYYYY

THE MOVIES??? BIG RED AND SEB AT THE MOVIES ???

all of this is just so out of character for big red and seb like what

like ej was right there tim come ON

"we were at a harry styles movie" not the fucking millennial ass writing coming in NOW

"my bi origin story" how am i supposed to feel rn??? because i don't know how to feel. like. anything. at all.

GIRL YOU BETTER TELL HIM ABOUT VAL OR MADDOX ???

"yeah!!! she was cute!!!" "yes. she was." BAHAHHAHAJHFGDSKJ

"wait..." NOT THAT BEING THE WAY SHE CAME OUT BAHHDSJH

"there were fireworks... literally"

OHHHHH SHES TALKING ABOUT MADDOX TOO UHM

"YOU almost kissed MADDOX" bro idk if ur disgusted or proud pls elaborate

OH HE KNEW FROM THE DOC LMFAO

wait so im just like ??? meant to let go of redlyn ??

"im happy for you" kms where can i get a big red

aLSO I WANT A NAME REVEAL tim PLEASE

just watched redlyn break up. now FUCKING WHAT

"friends, though... right?" YOU BET YOUR ASS KING

"i will apologise to carlos. BUT YOU NEED TO CALL MADDOX" SO REAL THANK YOU BIG RED UR SUCH A KING

ashlyn stop doubting urself like GIRLIE everyone with EYES is down bad please. PLEASE.

WHY AM I WATCHING CARLOS AND MISS JENN HAVE A CRY SESSION ON SOME RANDOM ASS COUCH ???

why is rehearsals starting at 7 in the evening. that would not fucking slide at my school. ( if i ran a school) (not happening)

"FIFTY SIX MINUTES" girl even made me move tf?

KOURTNEY'S SHOES WHAT THE FUCK I NEED THEM RIGHT NOW

oh come on just hearing all of that she HAS to go to lewis

"i just learnt mack and gina are minors" GIRL ??? WHAT DID YOU THINK-

quinn shouting "CUT!!!" louder every time

"which felt like... nine days" WHY AM I LAUGHING

"because we're friends-" bro fuck off idc

GAG HIM G IT DONT MATTER

THINK OF THE MUSICAL GINA.

ricky PROMISED FR HE BETTER BE THERE

"hugs i love that we're doing this now!!" emmy I CANT NOT LOVE YOU

ASHLYN U MAKE THAT PHONE CALL THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I NEED MADLYN RN

oh fuck i didn't realise that left carlos and big red FUCK

suddenly i DON'T want to be here

carlos can never be fully mad like if i found out someone had kissed my partner im 100% going to jail bc im so pissed off & i've probably killed someone, but why is he saying mf "good day!!" as he stormed off

MADISON FUCK OFF I AM NOT IN THE MOOD

fuck im really gonna have to have madlyn dragged out for me ffs

bro what is this weather on about tho

last time weather was important to plot it was like. keeping nini back in s2 e3 LMAO ???

EJ saying some important shit to ricky and its gonna make me cry again (its not even the finale and i have 17 mins of run time left of this episode FFS)

"im actually hurting them?" "no, you're actually hurting yourself" HOLY FUCK IM TOO VULNERABLE FOR THIS

CASWEN HUG AND IM GONNA RUN WITH IT FR

"stealing my girlfriends" BYE I CANT DO THIS

[awrldalone]

16th January 2023, 6.40pm

＊about the days after Christmas and before the new year, as defined in the previous entry

31st December 2022 —

I ran to the train station to get to Padua. I forgot the times of home, how long busses take to go places, how far walking takes me, so I missed the tram and I put on my headphones and I walked for a while to get to the station, just in time to get a ticket at the machine and jump on the train with Ma.

She’s always late too, so in a way we were late together, which in turn made us a bit more on time because we were not alone in being late.

I was wearing a dark brown cardigan with a white t-shirt and black straight-legged jeans; my clothes for New Year’s were in my bag, next to two bottles of prosecco. I like the idea of being the one who brings some prosecco to parties, and I find it delicious when it’s actually good. A family friend, a friend of my mother’s, has a winery, and he makes a batch per year just to gift his friends and sell at farmer’s markets. It must not be too profitable, but the wine is sweet and fresh, light and bubbly.

When we arrived in Padua, we bought some ice. It’s unusual, but I had offered to bring some and apparently you can buy it in supermarkets. I got three bags. V. texted he got three too. And so we went at Cl.’s, where we would sleep, and I got changed into a lace shirt I bought second hand and some leather pants I stole from my mother’s closet - I did not like how they fit, but it was the best I could do; they are too big around the waste, and there’s too much excess fabric around the hips, which makes me look bigger than I want to appear. Regards of that, I still liked how I looked. I put on some silver eye shadow and some glitter. The idea was some kind of glam rock look. 90s does 70s.

The party was a few houses over, at G.’s place. My friends from Padova are all very well off, living in the center in big apartments. Hers was huge, it must have been two apartments connected. The living room’s ceiling was beautiful, decorated with a tasteful trim which must’ve been there for more than half a decade. The walls of the room where lined with bookshelves: a vast collection of colorful Adelphi, some hardback Einaudi, an encyclopedia.

During the night I had fun. I spent time between the living room, the terrace and the second living room. The first was where we put together a small bar, setting up the bottles and the ice and the glasses on a table, and where we turned off the chandelier lights in favor of some colorful ones to danced under. The terrace was for smoking, but smoking at parties is not only a vice, but also a way to socialize, so sometimes I stepped outside just to chat away from the dancefloor. In the last room, we ate food. Some people brought food, there was anything I could have thought of: some torte salate, charcuterie, vegetables and hummus dips, lenticchie, pizza, and other stuff I cannot remember. The lenticchie made me happy, because lentils are usually eaten at new year’s in sign of good luck, but that is not a tradition my family has. My family has no traditions, and participating in them with my friends makes me unbelievably happy.

I talked a lot with B. She’s studying in Paris. I talked a lot with Cl.M. too. She left her university and I did not know. She was studying in Ireland, but she said life abroad just was not for her, and so she decided to come back to Italy.

1st January 2023 —

At one point, a bit after midnight, I really felt happy. Simply happy. Maybe it was the gin or maybe the prosecco or maybe I was truly happy or maybe I was happy both because of everything around me and because of the drinks.

I even felt hopeful. Being there with all those people, feeling their warmth again, hearing that most of them are doing good and that those who aren’t probably soon will do well. I looked up while everyone was singing and dancing and laughing and I felt grateful. It happens once or twice a year.

I almost did not think of M. He’s usually a constant thought in my head. I thought that I did not think about him, that I was okay not being with him tonight, and then I realize that in thinking that I had thought of him.

We went home at something past three. V. and I stayed out a bit more to walk G. home. I ended up in some mattress on the floor, and I woke up again at nine.

My friends always make fun of the fact I wake up early after parties, clean up a bit and leave at six or seven. This time I decided to stay, because usually I just happen to be in a rush: usually I have to go somewhere else, and I want to pass home to wash up and get ready for the day.

I had nothing to do on the first of the year, besides going at my grandma’s or at my father’s, so I stayed there and we ate panettone for breakfast.

2nd January 2023 —

The day after I went to Padova again, after lunch, to meet Y.

We had not seen each other in months, because when I went back home to vote we did not manage to hang out.

3rd January 2023 —

And then I went to Florence, Firenze, with my father and sister. We woke up early and he came to pick us up with his car to go catch a train. I read A Room of One’s Own in silence for some hours, sitting alone.

I think my father needs to stop trying like this. We certainly did a lot, but he really does not understand how to act. He does not get that being nice, being a father, does not mean simply spending money, or passively spending time with us. He does not try hard enough and he tries too hard at the same time: he just doesn’t try to do what we need him to do and he does what he thinks should fix things. He thinks this is all a punishments for him. He thinks the way my sister reacts to him is a court sentence to be served, and he thinks this sentence should have been shorter than it is.

Florence is absolutely stunning. Ivory and dark green and tall. Piazza Duomo left me breathless, completely enamored with the architecture that filled up the view completely. I went up the Campanile di Giotto, a poor lady in front of me slowed everyone down because she was panting and sweating, but the view on top was incredible. All the brown roofs, all the monuments, all the churches were visible. I took off my jacket, it was not cold at all. My father took a picture of me that made me want to die. It happens sometimes: someone shoots me with a lens and I feel like I’ve been shot at the heart. I should not be this dramatic, but some pictures make me want to rip off my skin and teeth and hair.

Inside, the basilica is quite empty, but we visited the foundations and I was mesmerized by how many times the building had been rebuilt. There were some mosaics of North African craftsmanship. Some things were just stones, but the thought they held up a whole church once made them special.

Lunch was disastrous. After that we went to Piazza della Signoria, where there are a copy of the David and other beautiful statues. Some were Roman copies of Greek originals. Things that old being so intact make me feel so insignificant, but also so peaceful. The bronze Perseus holding Medusa’s head stood tall above me as I looked at it, but my favorite might have been that of the Lion, with the inscription “Opus Flaminii vaccæ Romani” between its legs.

We also visited a temporary exhibit by Gucci, on which I have mixed feelings on. I think clothing is art. Fashion, couture, dresses can be just as impactful as a painting or a fresco. But this was not a clothes exhibit, like a YSL one I visited in Paris. It was some sort of immersive art that felt like a huge ad. It was clear that the point of it all was creating a space where people could take pictures, to then post them on social media and give exposure to the brand and the place.

Before going home, we stopped at Paszkowski, a fancy bar where I got a deconstructed martini that tasted too much like gin.

5th January 2023 —

I went ice skating in Venice with Ma.F. and her friends. I knew none of them, but they were nice.

I did really miss M., though. We were seven, so I was left alone sometimes and I skated on the ice smoothly, dodging children and wishing I could hold his hand.

We had an aperitivo afterwards, but I had to leave earlier, because my father arranged for my sister and I to meet his girlfriend, or mistress, or whatever she is that is shorter than “the woman he cheated on my mother with”.

She’s short, a fake blonde with impeccable make up on and an accent from the country side she tries to mask. I ordered a moscow mule and she said she should have gotten one too. I tried being nice. She tried too, I think, but every time I looked at her and at my father I only saw the rot in them. Even when she faked being interested in my sister and me, what we were doing, what we liked, she stumbled on her niceness a few times, betraying some prejudice on gender norms and other bigotry. I ordered an americano, and she left, and I wanted to leave too because I wanted to go home and call M. to watch a movie. My father insisted I stayed. I ordered a third drink, a cosmopolitan, and I told myself I needed to stop.

Afterwards, my father basically kidnapped me. My sister managed to escape, he let her go home, but I had to go to his apartment with the excuse that I needed to fix his phone.

9th January 2023 —

Plane. Maastricht. I arrived at my apartment at 11pm.

-c.

[seitmai]

So many thoughts that I put it under the cut lol

It ends when she gets a text.  An emergency, she tells him, and Bob is too smart and perceptive to buy the lie.  But he’s a gentleman, so he nods seriously and offers to drive her home or wherever she’s needed, which she declines.  He pays the bill of their abortive dinner, and he pretends not to notice how his date practically skips out of the restaurant and into the waiting car of a friend.

🥺🥺🥺

Nat puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze.  “I’m sorry, Bob,” she says. “Her loss,” Rooster offers.

Rooster is so right!!

The first pair that Jake sidles up to is a bust, but it’s not Bob’s fault:  Jake had hooked up with the one woman before, forgotten about it completely.  He’s moments from getting a drink tossed in his face when Bob tugs him away from the danger and they pull back, reevaluate.

Of course Jake has hooked up with one woman and forgot lmao

For one, you’ve fallen in with Bob Floyd, the most gentlemanly man a drunk, single girl could come across.  He’d never take advantage, and in fact, he’ll end up driving you home at the end of the night, getting you into your apartment.  He will take your shoes off of you, tuck you into your bed, and press a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen on you before he sees himself out.

Ahhhh he is so dreamy 🥰🥹

You’re drunk and Bob is sad, and you’re staring at him with wide eyes that glitter in the low light of the bar, so he tells you.  He tells you about his terrible date, the latest in a string of terrible dates, that he’s been single for so long and he’s not entirely convinced he’ll ever meet someone, that he’s too scrawny, that his glasses are terrible (one date called them serial killer glasses), that he’s too reserved to ever catch the eye of a woman, too unremarkable looking, let alone—

😭😭😭

“You’re gorgeous, really,” you tell him.  “It’s just that you have a sneakier handsomeness, you know?  Like, that one there—” You gesture broadly at Jake.  “—He’s, like, Ken-doll handsome.  Like, he catches your eye because it’s all symmetrical and stuff, and he’s fine, but symmetry can be boring and someone like you, it’s sneaky. 

Paired with his absolutely great character- chefs kiss 💋🥰

“Not at all.  It’s just that smart, beautiful, and sweet?  Do you understand the power you have?”  He keeps his tone light, teasing, but he’s in over his head with this:  he’s definitely going to fall in love before last call.

Same Bob, same🥰

It makes him feel sick because he’d never take advantage.  It makes him sick that the world, being what the world is, makes this fear lance through the whiskey fumes in your head.

🥺🥺🥺

He’s unsure how to handle it; if he seems too casual, you might miss his interest.  If he comes on too strong, he might scare you off.

Bob is probably the only man that could never come on too strong, I wanna hug him and keep him

He shakes his head, tries to wave you off, but you squeeze him again.  You don’t let him shrug off your thanks.  You don’t let him downplay his goodness.

Yes yes yes!!! He needs this! He won't get away with playing off his goodness!

It’s Nat—it’s always Nat, with her no-nonsense lens into the mystique of her fellow women—who smacks some sense into him.

Of course it's Nat! She's just the best, even if its some tough love🫶🏻

Of course Bob overthinks it.  Bob overthinks everything.

Lol same

“It’s always polite to take a gift, Bob.”  She rolls her eyes, heaves a sigh.  “And it’s always polite to, you know.  Shower.  Show up fresh-smelling and neat.  Jesus Christ.  Just go.”

I just know you can always count on Nat, in every situation 👏🏻

Almost.  He leans into his WSO work, studies you closely like you’re a dashboard of lights and alarms and switches.  He watches you a little closer, and he sees the way your throat bobs when you swallow a mouthful of wine, like you’re swallowing past a lump or going all dry-mouthed on him.  He sees the deep breaths you take, the way you press the back of your hand to your neck, like you’re flushed and trying to calm yourself. “You’re nervous,” he blurts out when he realizes it for sure, and you pause in where you’re lifting the wine glass to your mouth and stare at him. “I am.”  It’s that simple.  No mind games, no coy pretending.

I just LOVED this part sooo much! 😍🥰

 “And I like just-you,” you tell him.  “Like-like, I mean.  I wanted to tell you so tonight.” His heart does that wicked little stutter in his chest, but he squeezes your hand.  “Sounds like you just told me then.” “Guess so.”  You watch him, and your smile seems tremulous again, so Bob replies, “I like you too.”

🥹🥰🥹🥰

It’s that simple.  After you each put yourself through your own overthinking hell, each suffering through your own sleepless nights and needless worrying about dumb things like friend zones, it comes down to a moment so simple that it’s stupid:  just the two of you holding hands as you confess your mutual feelings matter-of-factly.

Urgh I love this and need it in my real life 🥰

“It’s not.  Fuck, it’s not!”  He raises his voice, winces at how shrill he sounds, and the dam in him breaks.  Something in him dislodges, and it all spills out:  every mean, rotten thing he’s ever thought about himself.  Every bit of unfair criticism, every insult and slight and how his own insecurity has twisted it all into a crippling imposter syndrome.  How he only ever feels competent at his job but how he struggles with everything else, and now how he’s fucked it all up with you because he’s overthinking, always trapped in the own tangled maze of his mind, always waiting for the other shoe to drop because he’s not good enough, he can’t even get hard even with you looking like a dream—

No no no, oh poor Bob 🥺😭

The antidote to Bob’s awful overthinking, as it turns out, is your care and praise.

I can work with that 😌😏

It probably seems like a cliché, like the pretty girl in a movie who somehow never realized she was pretty, but Bob has never really considered his size.  He’s been around plenty of other penises through the course of his career, but he’s never exactly eyed up other men and measured himself against them.  The handful of women he’s slept with never said anything so he assumed he was average, but you praise him here too—you tell him he has a beautiful cock, and Bob blushes at the compliment.  He’d never call it beautiful, but when you wrap your palm around his shaft and grip him gently, he’d agree to any adjective you might offer, so long as you never let him go.

🥵🥵🥵

And he deserves all the compliments

And every time doubt starts to creep in—he should be touching you too, he should be making you feel good too—you hush him, you still his mouth by kissing him, and you tell him that he has all the time in the world for touching you, but he should let you take care of him now.

😌😌😌

I loved this story so much!!! 👏🏻🫶🏻🥰

It's That Simple

Day 16:  Praise Kink (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Light angst, kinda (Bob gets deflated); talk of panic attacks and self-doubt; smut (handjob); 18+ only.

Word Count:  5656

AN:  This was requested by an anon!

AN2: If you've been around a bit, you know the drill: this isn't edited or re-read or beta'ed.

It’s another terrible first date.

Bob struggles to even snag a first date.  He’s unassuming; he lacks the swagger and extroversion to stroll up to a woman and talk her up.  Most of his dates are obtained from other members of the Daggers—double dates, set-ups, stuff like that.

The latest one was set up by Fanboy, a friend of his sister.  Within moments of meeting his date, Bob knows it’ll be a mess:  she makes a face when she greets him at the door, and it goes downhill from there.

It ends when she gets a text.  An emergency, she tells him, and Bob is too smart and perceptive to buy the lie.  But he’s a gentleman, so he nods seriously and offers to drive her home or wherever she’s needed, which she declines.  He pays the bill of their abortive dinner, and he pretends not to notice how his date practically skips out of the restaurant and into the waiting car of a friend.

He should go home to lick his wounds.  Another failed date, another night alone.  He sees the stretch of his life in front of him and despairs that he’ll ever meet someone, and he should go home to sulk, but he goes to the Hard Deck instead.

He might as well break the news to Fanboy, at least, and maybe Nat can cheer him up with her usual sarcastic humor.

-----

The Hard Deck is as packed as always, and Bob—in his date clothes of dress pants and a button down shirt—stands out among the uniformed pilots and fellow wizzos.  He finds the Dagger Squad, confesses his failure to Fanboy, then settles into a stool near Nat and Rooster.

Nat puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a comforting squeeze.  “I’m sorry, Bob,” she says.

“Her loss,” Rooster offers.

Bob shrugs.  It’s not anyone’s loss but his, but he offers them a weak smile that fools neither of them.

It’s Hangman who sidles up to Bob, and in an uncharacteristic moment of thoughtfulness, the cocky pilot offers to be his wingman—which makes Bob laugh, and it comes out laced with some bitterness.

“No offense, Bagman, but you’d be a terrible wingman,” Bob says.

“What?  Why?”

Bob lifts his hands in a helpless shrug.  “Because you’re….you.  And I’m not like you at all.”

“So?”

He scoffs in frustration at Bagman being so obtuse.  As if any woman would look at Bob if he walked up to them with Jake at his side.  It’d be like an Aston Martin rolling up alongside an old Honda Civic, and that’s the analogy he uses to make Jake understand.  But Jake shakes his head, clasps him on his shoulders and gives him a friendly shake.

“Nah, Baby on Board.  You got it all wrong.  You just need some confidence.”  Another teeth-rattling shake.  “Trust me, there’s a girl out there for you.  C’mon.”

Bob finds himself powerless to resist as Jake pushes him off of his stool, then shoves him gently in the direction of the crowded bar.

-----

The first pair that Jake sidles up to is a bust, but it’s not Bob’s fault:  Jake had hooked up with the one woman before, forgotten about it completely.  He’s moments from getting a drink tossed in his face when Bob tugs him away from the danger and they pull back, reevaluate.

The second pair is a bust too.  The first woman doesn’t even let Jake get the full sentence out before she’s wagging her ring finger in his face.

“Married,” she says, her words clipped.  “Move along, sailor.”

The third pair?  The third pair works out.  Jake hones in on one immediately, a blonde with big doe eyes, but the second one—you—rolls her eyes at him.

But when you turn to study Bob, you don’t roll your eyes.  You hold out a hand, introduce yourself, ask for his rank, then pat the empty chair beside you.

“Settle in, Lieutenant,” and your smile is easy.  “Let’s chat while we watch your friend strike out, huh?”

-----

It turns out you’re drunk, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

For one, you’ve fallen in with Bob Floyd, the most gentlemanly man a drunk, single girl could come across.  He’d never take advantage, and in fact, he’ll end up driving you home at the end of the night, getting you into your apartment.  He will take your shoes off of you, tuck you into your bed, and press a glass of water and a couple of ibuprofen on you before he sees himself out.

For another thing, Bob Floyd has fallen in with you, the most fiercely sweet drunk that a down-on-himself man could come across.  You’re one of those loud cheerleader types when you drink; the kind of woman who chats up other women in the bathroom, who tells them they’re beautiful, that you love them.  With your friend and Jake otherwise engaged, Bob finds himself caught in the tractor beam of your charm.

“You look sad,” you tell him around the rim of your glass.  “Are you sad?”

You’re drunk and Bob is sad, and you’re staring at him with wide eyes that glitter in the low light of the bar, so he tells you.  He tells you about his terrible date, the latest in a string of terrible dates, that he’s been single for so long and he’s not entirely convinced he’ll ever meet someone, that he’s too scrawny, that his glasses are terrible (one date called them serial killer glasses), that he’s too reserved to ever catch the eye of a woman, too unremarkable looking, let alone—

“No!”  You cut him off by exclaiming it, a near-shout, and your hand finds his forearm and grips him there.  “You’re gorgeous, Bill!  Don’t even say you aren’t!”

He grins despite himself.  “It’s Bob.  But thanks.  I mean, it’s nice of you to say—”

“Bob.  Yes.  Sorry.  Bob, not Bill.  I say it because it’s true.”  You release your hold on his arm and sit back in your chair, your eyes narrowed now as you study him closer.  You’re quiet for a long beat, and Bob squirms under your attention, but then you tell him more and he swears he breaks out in a full-body blush.

“You’re gorgeous, really,” you tell him.  “It’s just that you have a sneakier handsomeness, you know?  Like, that one there—” You gesture broadly at Jake.  “—He’s, like, Ken-doll handsome.  Like, he catches your eye because it’s all symmetrical and stuff, and he’s fine, but symmetry can be boring and someone like you, it’s sneaky.  You have a nice face, and these nice blue eyes, and nice hair, and I bet people think about you after the fact like, ‘oh, that Bob guy, he’s not bad at all,’ and then even later it’s like, ‘oh, Bob, he’s pretty handsome.’  Because you’re that sneaky sort of handsome and that’s the worst damned kind.”

Bob isn’t entirely tracking what you mean, but he shakes his head at the unearned praise, and he can’t stop the smile that’s plastered on his face.  He probably looks like a dope.

“Why’s that the worst kind?” he asks.

“Because it’s deadly!”  You lean forward again, put your hand on his arm again.  “Sneaky-handsome guys are like a virus because by the time you realize they’ve infected you, it’s too late.”

Bob chuckles.  “I’m a virus?  Suddenly my night has gotten worse, somehow.”

“No, not at all.  It’s just…”  You trail off, polish off your drink.  You wave down Penny for another.  “It’s just that you sneaky-handsome types never understand the power you have.  Ken-doll over there knows he’s hot, and by the mere fact of him knowing he’s hot, he loses a considerable amount of hotness.  But you have no idea you’re handsome, and that makes you even hotter.”

“I think there’s a string of women in the San Diego area that would disagree with your assessment,” Bob replies.  “But I appreciate the compliment, nonetheless.”

“Oh, them.”  You flap a hand, a dismissive wave.  “There’s a lot of idiots in the world, Bob.  You can’t let a string of women in the San Diego area make you feel bad.”

“I guess I just need to find someone who isn’t an idiot.”

“Ah, well!”  You set your drink down and wave your hands in front of yourself in a ta-da sort of flourish.  “Cal Tech graduate, Bobby.  I work for NASA.”

He feels a warm flush at you calling him Bobby.  “You’re a rocket scientist?  Definitely not an idiot, then.”

“Astrobiologist, actually.  And only an idiot sometimes, but never when it comes to the sneaky-handsome men here at the Hard Deck.”

Bob shakes his head, a little embarrassed at how much he likes you, a drunk stranger, talking him up.  He tries to dial it back, afraid he’s going to fall in love before last call.

“You’re way too smart for me, then,” he tells you.

That makes you arch an eyebrow at him.  “You afraid of smart women, Bobby?”

“Not at all.  It’s just that smart, beautiful, and sweet?  Do you understand the power you have?”  He keeps his tone light, teasing, but he’s in over his head with this:  he’s definitely going to fall in love before last call.

Of course he is.  His question makes you laugh, a warm sound that knocks free the lump in his chest from his earlier failed date.  Your laughter makes him feel drunk even though he hasn’t touched a drop; he feels warm and light and big-headed at how kind you’ve been to him, how sweet, but your laughter is the sound that makes him fall in love with you.

-----

The two of you stay until last call.  Bagman and your friend disappear hours before then, and you shrug at Bob, say you called it all wrong, that you didn’t think Jake was your friend’s type.

Bob drives you home.  You’re unsteady on your feet, so he hovers near you, but you manage reasonably well until it’s time to unlock your door.  He watches you try it, then he reaches out and takes the keys from your hand.

It’s the first time he touches you.

He gets you inside.  He gets you to your bedroom, and you flop gracelessly across the mattress, and Bob immediately goes into caretaker mode.  He slides your shoes off of you, sets them in a neat row by your closet.  He makes his way to your kitchen, gets you a glass of water, then stops in the bathroom.  He rummages through your medicine cabinet—you use the same brand of toothpaste as he does, the same type of toothbrush, and Bob marvels at the strange intimacy of learning these things, the everyday things that not everyone is privy to about you.  He finds some ibuprofen and shakes two out, then takes them and the water back to you.

You’re already drifting off to sleep, and Bob has to cajole you into sitting up.  He gets you perched on the side of the bed and gives you the pills and water, which you take without complaints.  He takes the empty glass back from you, and then there’s a moment—

—you sit on the edge of your bed and Bob stands over you, and you look up at him with your bleary eyes and he sees fear.  You’re understanding what you’ve done, maybe:  you’ve invited a strange man back to your place and you’re drunk, and he could do anything, and Bob sees the flicker of uncertainty, the beginning of fear in your eyes.  It makes him feel sick because he’d never take advantage.  It makes him sick that the world, being what the world is, makes this fear lance through the whiskey fumes in your head.

He reaches down to the foot of your bed where there’s a blanket neatly folded.  He shakes it out, urges you to lie down, and when you do, he covers you up.

“Be sure to drink more water when you wake up,” he tells you softly. 

The nascent fear fades out of your expression, and it’s replaced by a loose, goofy grin.  You free a hand from under the blanket and give him a sloppy salute.  “Aye, aye, captain.”

Bob sees himself out but not before he’s struck with a bit of brave optimism.  He sees the little whiteboard by your refrigerator, and he writes out his name and his number.  He drives home and sends up a silent prayer that his sneaky-handsome virus has already infected you, charmed as he is by your earnestly drunken (albeit clunky) analogy from earlier in the evening.

He wakes up the next morning and feels less hopeful.  He queues up a playlist and sets out on his morning run, but his morning pessimism is misplaced:  you call him a mile into his run, and Bob stutters in his steps to hear your voice—a little rough, but sunny nonetheless.

“I’m looking for a guy named Bobby,” you tell him over the phone, and he can hear the smile in your voice.  “Lieutenant Blue Eyes.”

-----

The two of you make plans to meet up at the Hard Deck, but you don’t call it a date so Bob doesn’t either.  He’s in unfamiliar territory:  things have always been a date or not a date in the past, but he’s noticed that many of his Dagger teammates speak in looser terms—meeting up, hanging out—with potential partners.  He’s unsure how to handle it; if he seems too casual, you might miss his interest.  If he comes on too strong, he might scare you off.

He decides to just turn up in his uniform, as he usually does, and when he arrives at the Hard Deck, you are already there.  You’re perched in a bar stool and chatting to Penny, but when he strolls in, you see him.

You smile at him as he walks over to you, but then you shake your head in a mock-rueful way.

“Oh, no,” you say as you hop off of your stool.  You open your arms and Bob steps into them, and you hug him warmly like you’re old friends.  “I thought maybe it was just whiskey-goggles that night, but you really are cute.”

Bob chuckles.  He releases you, then takes the stool beside yours.  “Well, I’ve been downgraded.  You called me handsome that night,” he points out.

“Sneaky-handsome, actually.”

“There seems to be a whole spectrum here that I was never privy to.”

You wave down Penny who comes and takes your orders.  Once your drinks are in front of you—a hard cider for you, a shandy for Bob—you click your glass against his.

“Here’s to the sneaky-handsome men of the world,” you say.

Bob ducks his head and grins  “And to the rocket scientists,” he adds.

A date or not a date…the evening passes in a blink, and you leave Bob that night entirely sober after long conversations and a lot of easy laughter.  You pull him in for another hug before you part, and this hug lingers longer than the hug you gave him as a greeting.  When you pull away, though, you gaze at him with a somber expression.

“I wanted to thank you for the other night,” you tell him.  “For being a gentleman when you took me home.”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean it.”  Your hands on his upper arms squeeze him a little firmer.  “You could have taken advantage, and you didn’t.  You’re a good one, Bob.”

He shakes his head, tries to wave you off, but you squeeze him again.  You don’t let him shrug off your thanks.  You don’t let him downplay his goodness.

“You are a good man, Bob,” you repeat, and you stare at him, like you’re daring him to disagree. 

Bob, who finds that you’re something of a force to be reckoned with, wouldn’t dare to disagree.

-----

He’s still not entirely clear if this is dating or not.  Neither of you actually says the word.  You text each other steadily, and you meet up sometimes at the Hard Deck, but your schedule isn’t great and Bob’s is even worse.  He worries that he’s missed his chance.  When he talks about it to the other Daggers, Hangman rolls his eyes and tells Bob he should have taken his shot earlier, that Bob is pretty much friend-zoned now, but Nat rolls her eyes at that and says he’s overthinking it.

Of course Bob overthinks it.  Bob overthinks everything.

He doesn’t know yet that you overthink everything too.  That you are going through your own pangs of regret, that you think you’ve missed your chance too, that your friends circle around you too and give you tough-love pep talks to build up your courage to take the lead on this burgeoning thing with Bob.

And ultimately, Bob’s hunch that you’re a force to be reckoned with is correct.  In the end, you take charge.

-----

You end up inviting him over for dinner on a night when your schedules align, and Bob overthinks that too. 

What if it’s a date-date, and he turns up too casual, with nothing in his hands—no wine, no flowers?  Or the opposite—what if he dresses up a little, brings you a mixed bouquet, and it’s just a casual friends-type thing?

Bob has no idea how he can manage the systems on a sophisticated plane because his brain grinds to a painful halt the moment he starts to contemplate this dinner at your place.  It’s Nat—it’s always Nat, with her no-nonsense lens into the mystique of her fellow women—who smacks some sense into him.

“Wear a nice shirt, shower beforehand, and take a bottle of wine,” she tells him.

“But what if—”

“It’s always polite to take a gift, Bob.”  She rolls her eyes, heaves a sigh.  “And it’s always polite to, you know.  Shower.  Show up fresh-smelling and neat.  Jesus Christ.  Just go.”

So Bob turns up at your apartment, a mid-tier bottle of wine in his sweaty hand.  Freshly showered, a daub of cologne behind his ears, and a nice blue button-down that brings out his eyes. 

And it’s a good thing he took Nat’s advice too, because you open the door in the sweetest sundress, and there’s music softly playing and the most heavenly smells wafting from your kitchen.  Bob realizes all at once that it’s a date-date after all, and his heart does an alarming little stutter in his chest, enough to stun him until you take his hand and gently pull him inside.

-----

Part of Bob’s issue with women is his inability to pick up on subtle, sometimes invisible cues.  He has always fallen in with the sort of women who play mind games, who play coy and say one thing while meaning another.  He always feels back on his heels; it feels like women speak a language he’s only slightly fluent in, so he’s always playing catch-up to translate what they mean.

But it’s refreshing with you, in this moment, because as you both sit down to the feast you’ve prepared, you just talk with him.  The two of you chat about your lives, you catch each other up since the last time you’ve talked, and Bob almost forgets to be nervous.

Almost.  A pair of tapered candles flicker between you and cast your lovely face in a golden glow, and low, bluesy music sets the soundtrack as you eat.  You sip at the wine he brought, and he eats your home-cooking, and Bob imagines an entire life like this…and he almost misses the way you keep swiping your palms along your thighs, like you’re nervous.

Almost.  He leans into his WSO work, studies you closely like you’re a dashboard of lights and alarms and switches.  He watches you a little closer, and he sees the way your throat bobs when you swallow a mouthful of wine, like you’re swallowing past a lump or going all dry-mouthed on him.  He sees the deep breaths you take, the way you press the back of your hand to your neck, like you’re flushed and trying to calm yourself.

“You’re nervous,” he blurts out when he realizes it for sure, and you pause in where you’re lifting the wine glass to your mouth and stare at him.

“I am.”  It’s that simple.  No mind games, no coy pretending. 

“It’s just me,” Bob says.

You smile at him, and it trembles a little at the corners.  He can feel the nerves in you now, and he reaches out a hand across the table, palm up.  He makes a grabby motion with it until your smile firms up and you lay your hand in his, and he grasps you lightly.

“It’s just me,” he repeats.

“And I like just-you,” you tell him.  “Like-like, I mean.  I wanted to tell you so tonight.”

His heart does that wicked little stutter in his chest, but he squeezes your hand.  “Sounds like you just told me then.”

“Guess so.”  You watch him, and your smile seems tremulous again, so Bob replies, “I like you too.”

It’s that simple.  After you each put yourself through your own overthinking hell, each suffering through your own sleepless nights and needless worrying about dumb things like friend zones, it comes down to a moment so simple that it’s stupid:  just the two of you holding hands as you confess your mutual feelings matter-of-factly.

-----

It feels too easy.  After months (years) of struggling to even land the occasional first date, suddenly Bob’s dream girl turns up just like that.  It feels too easy, and so Bob slips into his overthinking almost immediately.

It goes fine after dinner, when the two of you trade nervous kisses on your couch until the nerves burn off enough that your mouth slotted over his feels natural, that you move in concert with each other—your head tilting one way, his tilting the other, no longer bumping noses or knocking his glasses askew. 

It goes fine as you climb into his lap, the solid weight of you a welcome sensation because Bob’s head feels like it’s filled with helium, drunk and fizzy from the feel of your lips against his, your tongue against his own.

It goes fine when you climb off of him, shaky-legged like a newborn foal.  When you hold out your hand and take his to lead him back to your bedroom.

The moment he finds himself stripped down to his boxers and lying on your bed is the moment it falls apart.

It’s like every mean comment, every brush-off and ghosting, every roll of the eyes and beleaguered sigh and overheard commentary about him crowds into the room and leaves no space for this moment with you.  Bob thinks of all the feedback he’s ever gotten on dates—the serial killer eye glasses, the lack of muscles, the lack of game.  He tries to take a deep breath and finds he can barely pull in a lungful, and his throat feels like it’s closing on him—

And he can’t get hard.  His near-erection from making out on the couch deflates, and even though you are perched over him—you’ve shed your sundress, and you’re in the sexiest, sweetest lingerie set, powder pink, like the underside of a cloud at sunrise—he cannot coax himself back to attention.

The panic that floods him—he recognizes the feeling.  He’s felt it a million times.  He feels the hot, splotchy redness as it breaks out across his chest and neck, and his face flushes furiously bright, and you notice it all in real time.  The sultry, heavy-lidded look on your face disappears and is replaced by pure concern.

“Bob?  Bobby?  Are you…okay?”  You reach a hand out and cup his face, and your palm had felt warm earlier but now it feels cool….which proves how hot he’s flushed, how feverish his panic makes him feel.

“I’m sorry.  Shit, honey.  I’m…I gotta go.”  He tries to sit up but your mattress is soft and he flails a moment, and if Bob were just a bit younger he’d burst into tears at how sideways this has all gone so suddenly.  You served him up the perfect evening, you’re kneeling right beside him in the hottest fucking lingerie, and he’s been reduced to a stuttering, red-face idiot who can’t even get hard—

“Hey.”  You lay your hand on his bare chest, steady him.  “Hey, hey, hey.  Take a second.  Just breathe, Bobby.”

“I gotta—”

“Just relax.”  You press against his chest, tap your forefinger against his skin.  “Breathe for me, okay?  Everything’s fine.”

“It’s not.  Fuck, it’s not!”  He raises his voice, winces at how shrill he sounds, and the dam in him breaks.  Something in him dislodges, and it all spills out:  every mean, rotten thing he’s ever thought about himself.  Every bit of unfair criticism, every insult and slight and how his own insecurity has twisted it all into a crippling imposter syndrome.  How he only ever feels competent at his job but how he struggles with everything else, and now how he’s fucked it all up with you because he’s overthinking, always trapped in the own tangled maze of his mind, always waiting for the other shoe to drop because he’s not good enough, he can’t even get hard even with you looking like a dream—

“Hey.  Whoa.”  You remove your hand from his chest, but you scoot over to sit beside him, turned to face him, your expression very similar to the night he met you—the same easy smile, the same studious eyes.

“Nothing’s ruined.  You haven’t fucked anything up.  Take a breath.  Is this because of that bad first date you had the night we met?”

He nods.  “A little bit.”

“There’s been other bad first dates, I guess?”

Another nod.

“And now you’re worried this is just another bad first date?”

“Yeah.”  It comes out a croak, a roughness in his throat. 

“Hmm.”  You lean forward, press a soft kiss to his forehead.  “You wanna hear about my worst first date ever?”

“No, honey, it’s okay—”

“His name was Justin.”  Another soft kiss, this one to his temple.  “Good job, good looking.”  Another kiss, to the other temple, right at his hairline.  “Picked me up and gave me flowers, took me out to San Diego’s most exclusive restaurant that has a reservation list a mile long.”

Bob chuckles weakly.  “Sounds awful,” he says, wry.

You hum again, kiss his flushed cheek.  “He was charming at dinner.”  A kiss on his other cheek.  “Said all the right things.  Asked about my life and listened to my answers.”  The lightest of kisses on the tip of his nose, and it makes him smile despite himself. 

“Halfway through dessert, a woman comes up to our table.”  Bob feels the gentle press of your lips at the corner of his mouth, and he turns his head to kiss you back, but you pull away. 

“It was Justin’s wife.”  A flurry of kisses now, to his chin, along his jawline, near his ear. 

“He was cheating,” Bob says.

“Nope.”  A kiss, this one lingering, under his jaw, on his neck.  “Turns out, this was a little game he and his wife play.  Some weird cheating, cuckolding fantasy.”  Your lips skate over his pulse point.  “He takes a girl out, his wife pretends to catch them, and then they go to a nearby hotel to fuck each other senseless.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh, shit is right.”  You lift your head to gaze at him.  “Asshole left me with the bill for dinner too.  So Bobby….you’re not my worst first date.  You’re not even close.”

“Honey—”

“You have no idea how hard you’re gonna have to work to really, honestly fuck this up.”  You grin at him, and then you straddle his lap again, and he lays his hands on your hips and stares up at you.

“Because you’re, like, exactly the sort of man I’ve always been looking for.  You’re that sneaky-handsome sort, and you’re smart and sweet, and you took care of me that first night when I was too drunk to make good choices.”  You cup his face in your hands, and you stare at him hard, that sweet forcefulness on full display, like you dare him to disagree with you.

“It’s already a sure thing, Bobby.”  You lean forward, kiss him gently.  “There’s no pressure to do anything tonight.  Don’t even think about needing to do anything.  How about you just let me love on you, and you just relax, and if you can keep your secret wife from busting in and turning this into a cuckolding fantasy, we’ll end the night just fine, okay?”

That makes him laugh, and it breaks the spell of his terrible ruminating.  Bob laughs, and he slides his hands from your hips up to your waist to feel your soft skin.

“I didn’t even think of getting a secret wife before I came here,” he confesses.

“See?  It’s a sure thing, then.”  You lean forward again, whisper in his ear, your warm breath making him break out in goosebumps as you tell him to just relax and let you love on him.

-----

The antidote to Bob’s awful overthinking, as it turns out, is your care and praise.

As far as first dates go, this is the one where Bob learns something new about his own sexuality.  He learns, thanks to you, that he has a praise kink, because your hands and mouth and body on his feels amazing, but it’s your words that make him hard.

Loving on him means you touch him everywhere.  You kiss him everywhere.  You stroke him, press your soft lips to him, lick against parts of him until he feels like he’s on fire in a way that is completely different than his panic attack.  You kiss every inch of his face and neck.  You trail your mouth over his shoulders and collarbones, across every bit of his chest and belly, and you praise him whenever your mouth isn’t otherwise occupied.

Look at you, Bobby.  Hiding this body away under that uniform.

You praise his arms, the muscles of his chest and abs.  You praise his shoulders and back, the smattering of chest hair, the trail of hair that leads down and disappears under the waistband of his boxers, and you glance up at him, the question in your eyes as you toy with the elastic.

“Can I?” you ask, and Bob nods, swallows hard, and you go lower, you push his boxers down and his cock is there, hard from your honied words.

“Holy shit,” you blurt out.  “Bob, are you for real with this?”

It probably seems like a cliché, like the pretty girl in a movie who somehow never realized she was pretty, but Bob has never really considered his size.  He’s been around plenty of other penises through the course of his career, but he’s never exactly eyed up other men and measured himself against them.  The handful of women he’s slept with never said anything so he assumed he was average, but you praise him here too—you tell him he has a beautiful cock, and Bob blushes at the compliment.  He’d never call it beautiful, but when you wrap your palm around his shaft and grip him gently, he’d agree to any adjective you might offer, so long as you never let him go.

This feels too easy too, but the panic never claws at Bob’s throat again.  You’ve chosen him, you’ve made it a sure thing for him, and you’ve cut through his awkward moment of near-flight to get him to this:  your body stretched alongside his, your breasts pressed against his arm, your hand working against his cock while you whisper praise in his ear. 

And every time doubt starts to creep in—he should be touching you too, he should be making you feel good too—you hush him, you still his mouth by kissing him, and you tell him that he has all the time in the world for touching you, but he should let you take care of him now.

His orgasm creeps up in fits and starts, and it seems to ratchet closer with each bit of praise you lavish on him, more so than each movement of your hand working against his cock.

“I want you to come for me, Bobby,” you whisper against his neck.  You kiss his pulse point, a plush, open-mouth kiss that makes him shiver as you grip him tighter, work a faster rhythm with your hand.  “Come for me like a good boy.”

He wants to be good for you; he wants to do as you say.  Some not-so-small part of him craves your approval, and maybe the two of you will play around with that sort of dynamic in the future, but for now, he just wants to obey you.  He wants to do his part to salvage the night he thinks he almost ruined, so he breathes in time to your strokes, focuses on every sensation—the softness of your breasts pressed against him, your wet, hot mouth kissing him, the light scent of your perfume.  The tension in his belly is a coil, and it tightens and tightens until it snaps, and his hips stutter against your grasping hand.  He gasps out your name, warns you, and then a beat later, he comes.  He spills over your hand, thick ropes of cum coating your fingers and wrist, spilling over onto his belly.

“Just like that, baby.”  You kiss his panting mouth, and he feels the curve of your lips as you give a pleased smile.  “It’s that simple.”