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megamindsecretlair · 6 months ago

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Runaway Lover, Part 3

Pairing: Professor!Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing/mocking, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, possession kink, all consensual. Power imbalance. Spoilers for the Red Rising Saga by Pierce Brown.

Summary: Having to see Stunna day in and day out is physical torture. So much so that you have to take matters into your hands. However, once Stunna learns that, he has an alternative to benefit you both.

Word Count: 7,193k

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: WHEW, I needed this in my life. They're so cute, I can't stand them. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Artists need it for their enrichment.

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @nworbaij @hopefulromantic1 @lesbiantreehugger @longpause-awkwardsmile @badassdoll @kholdkill @blackpinup22 @cardi-bre91 @blowmymbackout @jay-mach @sageispunk @yourofficialgal @liyaah02 @monaeesstuff @amethyst09 @harmshake @satoruya @theunsweetenedtruth @ciaqui

If there were nine circles of hell, you were most certainly in the tenth. Stunna walked in thirty minutes ago wearing a delicious black outfit. It was simple. A black polo shirt, black slacks, no show socks, and white tennis shoes. He wore a few rings, gold bracelets, and a gold necklace peeked out from his collar.

He was, in a word, completely sexy without even trying. And it was absolutely wrecking you. True to your word, you didn’t wear anything provocative. You didn’t wear dresses or skirts, just a heavy rotation of leggings and graphic T-shirts.

But you thought that he was still checking you out. That you caught little glimpses of him smirking or his eyes roving over you.

Stunna did not keep his word, however. He continued showing up to class like he was being interviewed for television that day. All of his outfits had been cataloged thoroughly by you and likely by every other person in the class.

The first week without him was torture beyond compare. The second week felt like your chest was getting cracked open. You saw him a few times a week and you had agreed to not text him. To not call him. And try like hell to not think about him.

That lasted for about…two classes. Before you were running back to your dorm in the middle of the day and letting your vibrator work off some of those nasty thoughts from class. The vibrator was good but paled in comparison to the size of his massive dick.

It couldn’t compare to his hands running over you, manhandling you, or to his filthy words whispered in your ear. You looked away from him unless he saw the look all over your face. But just like with everything else, he seemed connected to you on a deeper level.

His eyes found yours and his jaw flexed. You clenched your thighs and shifted in your seat. Catching on, Stunna cleared his throat and moved across the floor towards a podium. He got everyone’s attention.

“I hope you all did the reading assignment because I want you to break into smaller groups and share your thoughts about the latest chapters. We have enough for about three to a group, I’ll let you pick since you’re adults. But please, if you’re going to partner with friends, actually discuss something about the book,” he said.

That caused a few giggles but your stomach only sank. You didn’t truly have friends in this class. You weren’t the type that was friendly to everyone simply because you were taking the same class.

“Wanna be my partner?” The strawberry blond girl next to you said. You were pretty sure her name was…Samantha?

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t really. You didn’t want her to spontaneously start talking about Stunna. Sitting through his class was bad enough. But pretending like his initials weren’t sewn into your heart was another level of acting that you weren’t great at.

She had recruited someone else, a boy named Khalil that almost rivaled Stunna in good looks. He was lighter with a fade, strong jaw, and a football player build with big arms, narrow waist, and powerful legs. If you weren’t already spoken for, you’d be crushing on him. As it were, no other guy did it for you now.

You introduced yourself formally to him and he smiled. His smile was cute. But nowhere near as devastating as Stunna.

For the next couple of minutes, you discussed the book from the homework assignment. You talked about what you liked and didn’t like about the characters. You heard Stunna moving about the room, checking in with groups and posing challenging questions.

You dreaded the moment he made it to your group. “What you think about using Reds as an entire labor force? Keeping them ignorant, dumb, and too stupid to see that they weren’t getting any closer to the dream?” Khalil asked.

You turned your head to him, confusion likely flitting across your face. You didn’t mean to be biased, but you hadn’t thought he’d have something intelligent to say. He was as quiet as you and you saw him doodling most of the class.

He smirked. “I’m not all good looks,” he said.

You rolled your eyes at the joke and shook your head. “I find it funny that a lot of these sci-fi authors can understand using people for labor is wrong, highlighting the conditions they’re under, and the sheer insidiousness of oppression, but lack any real Black people in their books.”

“Then again, do you really want the Reds to be Black? They damn sure ain’t gonna have any Black golds,” Khalil said.

You laughed, because sadly that's the truth. The Red Rising Saga was an interesting series, but honestly, adult sci-fi writers bored you to tears. They were so stuffy and too into their own wordy prose that they lost the whimsy. The excitement of exploring a new world.

You didn’t need to know every single soap at a market when the more interesting story was about the two main characters who had to find common ground.

Samantha looked completely lost, turning a shade of red that you didn’t think was possible. You stared at her, wondering if she would say anything. You weren’t going to do the work for her or give her an easy out. Khalil seemed of the same mindset as he looked at her as well.

“Well, I find it extremely noble that Darrow did all of this for his love,” Samantha said.

Coward. “Yeah but in this day and age, are we really still fridging women?” You asked.

She was saved from answering from a delicious aroma preceding an equally delicious man. Stunna interrupted, leaning against a desk near your group. He asked what you were discussing and you finally lifted your eyes to meet his.

Huge, huge mistake. You could get lost in those eyes of his. Like sitting underneath a dark night sky looking for stars. You smiled briefly at each other before you turned your attention to Samantha who turned a darker shade of red. Seriously, you were starting to get a little worried.

“We were…um…” She faltered as Stunna looked at her.

Again, jealousy reared its ugly head as she hemmed and hawed her way through a bullshit answer. But you saw the way that she tossed her hair back, batted her eyes. Giggled even though there wasn’t a damn thing funny about the book or your discussion.

“We were talking about the role of women in the book. How Io was fridged and even though there are other women, they are distinctly cold and calculating most of the time. In a society based heavily on Roman culture, it’s a wonder he bothered to put any women at all in it,” you said.

Stunna leaned back, turning his attention back on you. Whoops. You should have let Samantha fumble through her answer. Or better yet, have Khalil come to her rescue. Black dudes usually did after about five minutes of second hand embarrassment.

“I’m sure the author would have gotten flack for not including women or sending the dangerous message that women can’t perform in war games,” Stunna said.

“I’d rather they not do it at all. That’s better than having to sit through ten pages of pining because one of the main girls followed the winning side,” you said.

Just like that, it seemed like you and Stunna were the only two in the room. He listened, which was rare, but he seemed to genuinely think about what you were saying.

“So say you were there, fighting and trying to win the war games. What would you have done?” He asked.

You smirked and launched into all the things you would have done differently. The war games funneled down to a rivalry between two men who got personal. War wasn’t personal. Not when one of the qualifying tasks was killing someone and being let out into the wild with the survivors of their matches.

Stunna listened with rapt attention. You felt like beaming under it. He made you feel like the sun and your body warmed the more he asked more questions. He was clearly the more professional of the two of you, because he included Khalil and Samantha in the discussion as well.

“Good work, this is a good group,” Stunna said. He moved on to another group, passing by you once more. You gasped as he moved as if it were a physical weight on your heart for him to go too far away from you.

Samatha sighed loudly. “He must think I’m a total idiot. You two were so prepared. And me? Ugh. ‘Um, I think I would have aligned with Darrow’,” she said, mimicking her own voice.

“Your answers were just as good, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Khalil said. And there it was. Like clockwork. Goodness forbid she put herself down and has to live with it.

“Do you think he would even go for a student? Obviously not someone in his class, that’s wrong. But like…after?”

Khalil laughed and shook his head. “No, I doubt he’d risk his job for something that stupid. You have thousands of appropriate guys to choose from at this school,” Khalil said. He gave you a look, like he couldn’t believe Samantha was serious.

You smiled and shook your head. There was no way that Stunna would breathe in Samantha’s direction. Because he was already breathing in yours. Once more, you felt the weight of all that transpired in Punta Cana.

You had no way of knowing that you were boning your teacher, that couldn’t be held against you. The second time though…you still had flashbacks of getting bent over his couch and possessed. Owned. The way he staked his claim and made sure that there were no doubts in your head. You were sprung, in the worst way, and you didn’t know if you could make it to the end of the week without him. Let alone another ten.

Class winded down and Stunna congratulated everyone on their ideas and going deeper. Your cheeks burned. You were never going to think about anything else all day.

You had been sitting in a puddle of your own arousal since Stunna walked into the room. You needed to get to your daily sesh as soon as possible. Because the gold gleaming off of his skin was making you drool. You had already cooked up a pretty nasty fantasy in your head and you needed to get it out of your system or risk going crazy.

“I just want to remind you all that my office hours are open. Scheduling is preferred but if you need extra help, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Stunna said. Oh, make that two nasty fantasies in your head.

He let class out and while you packed up your things, Khalil got your attention. “I just wanted to say that I really liked what you were talking about in class. I know people start to roll they eyes when it comes to the role of women in books, but you’re right. Darrow wouldn’t be doing half that shit if his wife was still around,” he said.

“Thank you! I just kept thinking that the entire time I was reading. Like ugh. To be fair, the way she died was horrific as shit. That’d call anyone to drastic action.”

“See exactly! I..um,” Khalil said and licked his lips.

The class was nearly empty by now. You zipped up your bag and threw the strap over your shoulder. You were nearly bouncing with the desire to get with your vibrator. In a short amount of time, Stunna turned you into a sex fiend. Desperately chasing the high of having him inside you and soaking you with his cum.

You tilted your head at Khalil. If he didn’t spit this shit out, you were going to run him over.

“Is everything okay here?” Stunna asked.

You gasped, feeling caught or exposed. You wondered if your horniness was written plain as day on your face. The way you wanted to climb him in this outfit. You could see his skinny ass ankles and now you very much understood every regency show you watched. That bit of ankle was killing you.

“Yeah, yeah. Just talking about the book. I’ll, uh, see you later,” Khalil stammered and then disappeared so fast, there should have been smoke on his heels.

And now you were alone with Stunna. Dangerous. Dangerous territory.

“He seems nice,” Stunna said with a small smile.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you said, opting for a tease. You knew it was wrong. You had no reason to doubt the way Stunna felt for you. But being apart from him was killing you. You had no way of knowing if the time apart made him realize how inappropriate this was. If it was better to cancel the 12 week waiting period and move on.

The silent gasp stole all the breath in your lungs. Thinking about not being with him instantly made you dizzy.

“If I was? Would it change anything?” He asked.

“No,” you said, your voice small as you looked at him. This shit sucked. It sucked, it sucked, it sucked. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him at least. Damn. You couldn’t even touch him without risk of it leading to rumors.

“I miss you,” he said softly.

“I miss you,” you said.

You stood and stared into each other’s eyes, a mirror of loneliness and wanting.

“You don’t have to be jealous. You know that,” you said.

Stunna ran a hand down his face, looking weary. You hated this. You hated that you couldn’t comfort him. You wanted to hold his hand and walk across the beach again.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I am. That he’d be more appropriate than I would,” he said.

You swallowed around the huge, dry lump in your throat. You didn’t want to call attention to the elephant in the room. You didn’t want to think about the end. Your anxiety leapt off with all the implications of his words.

“Are you…saying that we…” God, you couldn’t even get the words out. Tears were already burning and you were not an easy crier.

“No! Fuck no! Hell no!” He said. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. There were too many conflicting emotions. You needed your brain and heart to line up. Because while you were sad about a possible ending, you couldn’t help admiring the cut of his arms across his black outfit.

“I bought a calendar to mark off the end of class. You’re mine and I meant that,” he said.

You giggled to cover up how much you were desperate to hear that from him. “Good. Because so did I,” you said.

He laughed but it ended quickly as you went back to sharing and communicating without words. You ached to ask him what he’s been up to, what he’s been reading. You had a lifetime of his to catch up on and you wanted to know every single detail. But you didn’t have that kind of time.

“I should probably…” You said.

“For sure. My bad,” he said. He stood up, letting you pass. You smiled at him and took a few steps, that chain connecting you two growing taut.

“Can you come over tonight? I…miss you so fuckin’ much,” he said.

“I can’t…” You said.

“I know. I’m sorry for asking. That's not fair,” he said. He nodded and avoided looking at you.

You sighed. You needed to walk away. You needed to think about the bigger picture. If you two slipped, even once, it would spell disaster. All it would take is one person overhearing you, one person asking too many questions, one person catching the way you two looked at each other…

Your chemistry was a physical thing. You felt it every time you looked at him or thought about him. You weren’t sure if it was the same for him. If he felt this all consuming urge to run to you and never let you go. You were sure that his feelings were strong. But how strong?

Strong enough to survive a public scandal? He just got here. You refused to be the cause of him losing his job, ending up a national joke, or have this following him around for the rest of his career. He was just getting started. You couldn’t stand in the way of that. You wouldn’t.

Armed with that knowledge, you had just enough self-preservation to leave the room without another word. The shit hurt, like it always did. But then again, you and pain weren’t strangers. You said hello to your old friend, letting the ache wash over you and remind you that this was for Stunna. He would always come first.

“Dammit,” you huffed. You made it one month with no physical contact from Stunna. No text messages or dirty pictures to tide you over either. Just your imagination, horniness, and ole reliable. Until ole reliable stopped working mid sesh.

You clicked the button but the damn thing was gone. Finished. You really needed to get a rechargeable one but you would die trying to plug that thing in somewhere for a few hours. Stella and Angela would never let you live it down.

You tossed it on your bed and tossed on the nearest bottoms, a skirt that covered what it needed to. You went looking through your room for spare batteries. You just needed a little more time. You were soaked with sweat already, feeling like the nasty girl Stunna praised in Punta Cana.

Stunna gave a rare lecture today. Finished with one of the books on the list, he swerved into poetry. He talked about plays as well, Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe. He heard everyone’s groans, thinking Shakespeare was so high school.

But then Stunna had to go on and start reciting some of the words to Romeo and Juliet. He went on about how it really shouldn’t be taught to teenagers. Not because it was too complicated, but because teens needed to do a little growing up to appreciate Shakespeare’s words.

There needed to be a little heartbreak before it sunk in just how much these two wanted to be together but were separated by circumstance. God. He had the entire class melting with that one.

You especially. You felt like he was talking directly to you. The pining, the yearning of Romeo and Juliet. There was a reason that story had endured for hundreds of years. There was a reason he had to be the one to teach it.

“There’s beauty in yearning, isn’t there? Humans love to torture themselves but never more so when it comes to matters of the heart. Unrequited love, loving the wrong person, giving in to things that you know you shouldn’t. Indulging in something so bad but it makes you feel so good. That is why poetry exists. To shine a light on these moments,” he had said and fuck, you wanted to push him down on the desk and suck the soul out of his body.

You couldn’t get out of the classroom fast enough. Too keyed up. Too horny. Burning with the need to jump his bones but unable to do so. And now your vibrator wasn’t working and there wasn’t a damn battery in the fucking dorm.

You searched Angela and Stella’s rooms, not finding a shiny fucking Duracell. Does no one need batteries these days? You longed for the junk drawer at home that was always good for one more battery. It was magic and you missed it.

“Fuck,” you said. You went back to your room, leaning against the doorway. You had a very important executive decision to make. Your next class wasn’t for some time, but you didn’t have that much time. You needed to get off and had a hard time cumming with just your fingers.

You could walk away, but then…why deny yourself that pleasure? You were already denying yourself riding the tilt-a-whirl on Stunna’s dick and you couldn’t handle these thoughts in your head any longer.

It was a miracle you made it a month. You made sure not to linger after class anymore. You were weak. You could feel your resolve crumbling every time Stunna looked at you. Every time he spoke, joked, or engaged a different student in a friendly debate, you felt like stripping down, bending over, grabbing your ankles, and letting him have his wicked way with you. Other people in the room be damned.

Shit. You already answered your own question. If you couldn’t have him, then you needed Little Stunna. Yes, you named your vibrator after your incredibly hot and untouchable teacher and you’d take it to your grave.

You slipped into flip flops, grabbed your keys and wallet, and headed out of the dorm. You had time. You had time. You repeated this to yourself as you left the dorm building and headed across campus towards the bookstore.

It wasn’t the first time you’d gone commando but you felt like everyone could look at you and see what a horny pervert you were. You felt a spotlight burning into your back, broadcasting that you were just neck deep in a fantasy where you were a confused girl lost in the woods and Stunna was a half naked jungle man helping you find your way, with a pit stop on his dick.

Listen, Brandon Fraser pretty much ruined you for all other men until Stunna came along. You watched George of the Jungle one too many times. So much so, you had the campfire song from the movie etched into your memory.

I’ve been waiting for you all my life, hoping for a miracle

I’ve been waiting day and night, day and night

Would there ever be a moment that you didn’t relate absolutely everything back to Stunna? Probably not.

The bookstore was clean and fresh, somehow giving off an incredible Academia aroma that couldn’t be achieved anywhere else. It smelled like learning. Like school spirit.

It was blissfully empty and you made a beeline towards the technology section. You scanned for double A batteries, eyes lingering on other stuff. You debated if you should get another pack now or when you needed it.

You still had three more months to go. “Fuck,” you sighed. Three more months. They might as well tell you that you really were in the tenth circle of hell. You’d believe that an eternity at college, studying the same shit over and over, and staring at your untouchable hot professor was a punishment designed particularly for you.

Fuck it, you’d come back later when you weren’t a delicate mess at the moment. You couldn’t handle one more fucking thing…

You backed into the aisle and into someone solid. “I’m so sorry!” You screamed, turning around and staring up into Stunna’s beautiful face.

“I’m very sorry, I wasn’t looking,” he said. When it clicked that it was you he bumped into, he immediately stepped closer. His warm hands hovered around your arms like he wanted to steady you but knew he couldn’t touch you.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked. You wanted to die. He was the last person you needed to see at the moment. The absolute last.

You still had images of him in nothing but a loincloth fresh in your mind. Surrounded by dozens of animal pelts. You butterball naked and spread open for him. You rubbed your forehead. This shit wasn’t normal.

“You don’t seem fine,” he said, lowering his voice. “What are you picking up?”

You hid the batteries behind your back. You didn’t know if he saw them already, but best to pretend anyway. Pretend that you were here for something innocent and not because you were slutting him out in your fantasies.

“I got a little bored in between classes and thought I might pick up a book,” you said, totally making that shit up on the fly.

“A book,” Stunna repeated.

“Yup, we are in a bookstore,” you said with a nod, to prove your point.

“What kind of book?” He asked. He straightened up, clutching his own book to his chest absently. He smirked. You ought to have seen it for what it was and not encouragement to continue with your obvious lie.

“You know that one…mystery author I love,” you said, waving your hand around.

“Really? What’s their name, maybe I’ve heard of them,” he said.

You looked around for help, but you were at the back of the store. The academic bookshelves were behind him and faced horizontally. You could only see the end caps from where you were and there were no leisure books listed.

Those were all the way at the front of the store. Fuck. “Brain freeze,” you said and shrugged. You were painfully aware that you didn’t have any panties on, likely still had some of your essence between your thighs, and Stunna was right there.

He wore a plain olive green shirt, a cream sweater, and light brown pants. Once more his ankles were exposed, and his huge shoes. He looked damn good.

He checked you out as well, nose flaring at the skirt. He lifted an eyebrow to you. You folded your arms.

“I didn’t think I was going to bump into you. You can’t dictate my clothing choices all the time. I told you to dress like a bum,” you said.

“I gotta stay fly. What are the batteries for?” He asked.

Heat flooded through you, making the bookstore swelter even though air conditioning pumped out of the vents. You looked down at your folded arms and the batteries.

“Remotes. You know, you can’t have too many backups. Those damn things are constantly going out,” you lied again.

Stunna smirked and stepped forward. He towered over the short shelves. “What’s it really for?” He asked. He said your name and it sounded like both a plea and a demand all wrapped into one.

“For something I don’t wanna tell you about,” you said. Your cheeks were burning and your stomach did somersaults. It would win the Olympic gold medal four events in a row if it could.

“Why not?” He asked. He sounded so patient. So demanding. So in control that you couldn’t help the tiny sigh escaping.

“It’s crossing our line,” you said.

“Tell me anyway,” he said.

You couldn’t look at him as you finally said, “My vibrator ran out of juice while I was fucking myself with it,” you said.

The heat of his gaze made your body flush. “You’ve been using a vibrator? For how long?” He asked.

Dangerous, dangerous territory. But you were tired of fighting. Of being good. “Since about the third class,” you said.

He leaned back, running a free hand down his face. “You really thought a vibrator could replace me?” He asked.

“No! That’s why the fucking batteries are shot to hell. I’ve been using it so damn much, I could be a spokeswoman for it,” you furiously whispered.

His eye traveled lower to your skirt and the way that you stood with your legs practically crossed. His eyes continued to move and you were starting to get nervous. What was he seeing? What was he putting together in his head?

“Did you finish?” He asked.

“Stunna…” You warned. You already crossed so many boundaries. You were in public. You were discussing this shit in public, as if you were ready to throw your degree down the tube. Ready to throw his career down the drain before he had a chance to get started.

“Did you finish?” He repeated, a lot slower and a lot lower. It wrecked havoc on your lower body.

“No,” you answered.

“Office. Meet me there in five minutes,” he said.

He brushed past you before you could say anything else. Before you could list the ways in which this was a terrible idea. Your mind helpfully offered all the ways in which this could go wrong. You stood there for a beat too long, staring at the batteries in your hands.

If there was a chance for the real thing…no, no, no, one of you had to be an adult about this. Had to stick firmly to your side of the line and not cross it. But you were tired. Weary. Fighting a mental battle every day as well as a physical one. You needed him. You just plain wanted him.

You still bought the batteries because you weren’t that fucking stupid.

You rushed over to his office, pretending like everything was fine. You were not on the way to do something incredibly dumb and immature. But fuck you needed him inside of you. You needed his hands on your ass. Spread open over his desk, chair, couch, or the floor. Wherever.

You were absolutely an addict for Stunna. You could admit it now that you were on the way to do this. You didn’t know why people continued to lie and say, “It just happened”. No. There was always room for doubt. For second guessing. A moment where you had to stop and use your brain.

You were using your brain. It was just telling you to, “Ride that dick”! In the English building, you took the elevator to the admin floor where teachers had their offices. It seemed empty, most of the offices open with the lights off.

You still drifted until you found his office. He was seated behind his desk, looking pensive. You could leave. He didn’t have to know you were here. It was a momentary lapse. Nothing more.

Before you could back away, Stunna looked up and caught you in the doorway. He stood up, pulling you inside. He checked the hallway before closing the door and locking it.

“Stunna, you know we can’t…especially not in here,” you said. You widened your eyes. Tried to give voice to all the reasons you couldn’t do this.

He didn’t respond. He just crossed the room, grabbed your face, and crashed your lips together.

“I just want to help,” he said. He went back to kissing you, to providing you with the much needed oxygen you had been missing for the past month.

You moaned into the kiss, dropped your keys, wallet, and batteries on his desk and then hugged him to you. You couldn’t stop your hands from roaming, searching, seeking, and re-learning his body all over again. What made him sigh, what made him hiss, what turned him on.

You bit his lip and he gasped, moaning. His tongue played with yours. Your teeth scraped together. You never felt more complete, more whole, than standing here in his arms once more.

The month disappeared in your eyes. You were transported back to that night in his hotel room. Like no time had passed at all. You were back in his apartment, two bodies meeting each other over and over again.

His hands went down to your skirt, but he didn’t push. He toyed with your naked ass, squeezing the globes, and fingers skirting closer and closer to the middle. You shook violently in his arms, dripping with arousal already.

You’d have thought some ancient beast possessed you and made you a vessel of horniness. You just wanted to be filled up. Connected.

Stunna pushed you until your butt hit the desk. You sat down and spread your legs. He spread you even further. He kissed down your neck. “You gotta be quiet,” he whispered.

Yeah, right. He kissed down your neck before dropping to his knees. He flipped your skirt up and looked his fill at your glistening pussy. He gave you a nasty wink before he dived in, licking the seam of your pussy lips before finding your clit.

You arched and gasped on his desk. One of his hands came up around your throat, trapping any sound you would make. He used his other hand to drape your leg over his shoulder, opening you up to where he could get all of you.

He suckled on your clit like a starving man. Slurped and licked every inch of your pussy. He dipped his long tongue into you, shallowly fucking you. You gripped the edge of the desk, immediately feeling like you were going to burst out of your skin.

It only took a few more licks for you to burst completely, cumming on his tongue. You made tinny, airless cries and he had to apply pressure to your throat to keep you from screaming out like you wanted.

You shook and twitched on his desk and he continued eating you out like he wasn’t finished. On the heels of the first, you were plunging right back into a second orgasm. Or maybe this was a delayed continuation of the first. Whichever it was, you were out of breath by the time it ended.

Stunna stood up, wiping his mouth and using his tongue to get the rest off of his lips. He kissed your forehead, leaving a wet spot there that you never wanted to clean. You melted, sighing into him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Fuck, I needed that,” you said. So much better than your vibrator.

“I needed it, too. I’m sorry I crossed our line, but that skirt…hearing you been taking care of yourself…” He bit his lip and you wanted to know what the hell he was thinking.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve been taking care of yourself. I seem to recall some filthy words about a shower?” You asked.

“The shower, the bed, the kitchen, the table. There’s a lot of surfaces in my apartment,” he said.

That only thrilled you. That he had been getting himself off to thoughts of you. “Not the same, huh?” You asked.

“Not at fucking all,” he said with a grin.

“Well…you don’t have anyone coming for office hours?” You asked. You were already here. Already crossed that line. You might as well go for gold.

“Nope,” he said, a wicked smile crossing his face. Perfect man with his perfect teeth. “We should behave though. These walls are thin as hell.”

“I can be quiet if you can,” you said. You hopped off the front of his desk. You grabbed his hand and led him around it to his side. You pushed him into his chair. He lifted one eyebrow at you, a smirk hovering on his lips.

“What you got in mind?” He asked.

You kissed him instead while you freed his dick from his pants. He helped you push them down enough so it wouldn’t interfere. You turned around, wiggling your ass a bit. You looked at him over your shoulder and the look he gave you….rooted you to the spot.

You were both so deeply in love with each other. You just knew, from the crinkle in his eyes, that you were it for him. And he was it for you.

You scooted into his lap, legs on the outside of his. You lifted up, grabbed his thick dick, and then slowly slid yourself down on it. You shared a quiet groan as he slid into place, slid right back home where he belonged.

It wasn’t the best angle for riding, but if you rode him cowgirl, you’d have to stare that love in the face. You acknowledged it, but it was still scary as hell. You used the desk to lift your ass and sit back down on his dick.

Stunna grabbed your waist, helping you along. He cursed softly as he moved you a little faster. You meant to be the one doing most of the work, feeling only slightly guilty that you relied so heavily on his powerful legs to stroke into you.

But he showed no signs that he was on that same wavelength. He only kissed the back of your neck, softly moaning in your ear. Wretched little sounds that drove your pleasure higher.

Your mind sunk into a fuzzy comfort as you quickly rode him. “Perfect, fucking perfect. You’re perfect,” he stuttered in your ear.

Your pussy gripped onto him, sucking in the sheer massive size of him. He was thick, for sure, But he was thick everywhere. From the tip to the base, he had a consistent hardness that felt like you were really getting piped down.

You bobbed on his dick as much as you were able to, both chasing an incredible high. You just needed…a little…

Stunna’s fingers moved forward, gathering up slick, and then played with your clit. His rough fingers flicked that little bundle of nerves until you were shaking and crying. He used his other hand to cover your mouth.

You tried, you really did try to stifle your moans. It was not easy. Not when every part of you wanted to let out a scream to rock the foundation of the building. You wanted to scream for everyone to hear that you were in the throes of a powerful orgasm.

Stunna cursed and then he was joining you, flooding your pussy with his cum. You would never get over the sensation of his hot, pulsing cum shooting out of him. You shivered, pussy clenching around him like it wanted to keep it all inside.

Stunna dropped kisses to your cheek and the back of your neck. “How the hell did we make it a month without this?” He whispered.

“How the hell are we going to make it another?” You asked.

You fell into temptation. You finally made love to him again and fuck. Your fantasies were severely lacking. You needed to ramp them up. You had to build that wall back up between you.

“You saying this becomes a monthly thing? Congrats on a month without sex, here’s some head,” he said.

You laughed softly. “I mean…” You weren’t opposed to the idea. You could hide one encounter. You could keep this off campus, at his place, like a dirty secret in the night. At this point, you had no self-respect. Not when it came to Stunna.

“No, no. We have to be good. This was…”

“Perfect,” he said. You giggled while he nibbled on your ear. Fuck, you missed him. Missed being in his arms, filled up by him.

You wiggled your ass. “Quit playin’,” he said, injecting a level of dangerous warning in his tone.

You wiggled your ass again. You were playing with fire, but hell, the heat never bothered you anyway.

You turned to look at him and give him a saucy wink when a knock sounded on his door. You froze.

Your heart rate jumped to a thousand beats per second, fingers glued to his thigh. Your stomach turned watery, fear unlike you’d ever felt thrumming through your veins. This was it. The moment you got caught.

You’d look back at this moment as The Moment. The Moment when your life came crashing down. You were literally caught with your teacher’s dick inside you. There was no way this wouldn’t be in the news cycle this very evening.

You could picture the jokes. Getting Extra Credit. Oh, is that what the kids were calling it these days? A little Hot for Teacher.

Stunna’s hands went back to your waist, squeezing slightly. You looked back at him. His eyes were wide but he looked calmer than you did. He lifted a finger to his lips and you nodded.

The knock sounded again, and then again before the silhouette in front of his door went away. Neither of you said a word for five minutes straight.

Stunna was the first to blow a breath. “I think we’re okay,” he said.

You scrambled off of him, removing his softened dick, and then went around the desk. You needed a physical barrier between you at the moment.

“I’m sorry–” You lifted a hand, cutting him off.

“I’m not mad, I-I’m really fucking scared,” you said.

“I know, I’d never put you through this…”

“I’m scared for you, you idiot. If they catch us, you could kiss working here goodbye. You just fucking got here,” you said. Unfortunately, there were no panties to indignantly pull up.

You were still a bit wet with his cum dripping out. But now you were full of dread and worst case scenarios.

“Me? Whoa, whoa, don’t worry about me,” Stunna said.

“How could I not? I–” It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him you loved him, but you weren’t ready for that. Wasn’t sure when you would be. It was scary to love him after a short period, to look at him and know that he was your soulmate. You knew he felt similarly, but soulmate? Would that freak him out?

Stunna stood up, stuffing his dick back in his pants. He fixed himself and came around the desk, invading your personal space.

“I’m the one that dragged you here. I’m in the wrong. And if this were to get out, don’t you ever try to protect me,” he said.

“You get to protect me but I can’t protect you?” You asked.

“No, that’s not the way this works. You protect yourself, always. I’ll protect you,” he said.

You laughed bitterly. “You’re so full of shit. You think I’m gonna stand there and let you take all the blame?” You asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do,” he said.

You scoffed. You grabbed your things off of his desk. “Fuck you, Stunna. I’ll be damned if you fall on the sword for me. I’m an adult. I can make up my own mind,” you said.

“Don’t you get it? I can’t live with myself if I fucked up your degree,” Stunna said.

“And I can’t live with myself knowing I fucked off your job,” you said quickly. “This isn’t a game, Stunna. This is your life.”

“You are my life,” he whispered.

You reared back as if he’d yelled at you. He stepped forward, cradling your head in his hands.

“I know it’s sudden. I know it hasn’t been a lot of time. I know I’m probably scaring you. I just need you to be okay. I’ve been able to hold it together this past month because I know that in a few months, I’ll have my life back. But not if I jeopardize this for you,” he said.

“Then how do you think I feel? How could you think that I don’t feel the exact same way?” You asked.

Stunna kissed you softly, like you had all the time in the world to do so. You didn’t know how long he kissed you for, only that you felt loved and cherished the longer his lips were on yours.

“We’re just two idiots in love then,” Stunna said.

You smiled at him, all the wonderful, gooey feelings tangled in your gut.

“Two idiots in love.”

Need more Stunna? The Secret Big Stunna Files

Part 1 | Part 2

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beegomess · 4 months ago

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Dark Paradise | Theodore Nott

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated 🫶🏼

01. Invisible Flirts

The music was loud, and there was a lot of noise from some students around Matthew, who was trying to down an entire bottle of Firewhisky. Pansy and Y/N had drinks in hand when they threw themselves onto the dark couch next to Draco and Blaise.

Draco and Zabini were sharing a joint when the blond offered it to the sister sitting next to Pansy.

— You’re a terrible brother, you know that? — Y/N had a smile as she reached out to take it between her fingers and took a drag.

— Imagine if our father saw you now? — Everyone burst into laughter; Draco and Blaise couldn’t stop laughing, considering their eyes were already extremely red.

— What are you guys laughing so much about? — Nott approached and sat in an armchair in front of his friends.

— You missed the big joke Draco told about what it would be like if your father saw them now. — Pansy said, emphasizing that it wasn’t really funny, just that they were very high. — Where have you been anyway? I haven’t seen you all night. — Parkinson hinted.

— Around. — Nott answered simply and noticed the attention he was getting from Y/N’s eyes while she took another drag of her cigarette. Theodore didn’t look away from Y/N, which would normally make her look away from him, but in her current state, embarrassment was not an issue. However, both their faces were expressionless, revealing nothing about each other.

Y/N only looked away when she saw Astoria Greengrass, a year younger than Daphne, making out with Adrian Pucey in the middle of the party. Daphne walked past the two and made a face of disgust, making Pansy and Y/N laugh. Pansy glanced to see that Theodore still hadn’t looked away from Y/N.

— What’s her plan this time? — Pansy asked Daphne, who was sitting on the coffee table between the sofas, turning her back to Theodore.

— According to her, the plan is to hook up with someone from Draco’s social circle and get closer to Y/N. — Daphne rolled her eyes as she spoke, and everyone began to pay attention, letting out small laughs.

— Is she really getting close to me just out of interest? — Y/N put her right hand on her chest, pretending to be offended by the revelation.

— Yes, but she always talks about how she thinks you’re pretty and that she wanted to be friends with you too. — Daphne said with irony, somewhat coldly as she laughed at her sister.

— Oh Merlin, she thinks like she’s five years old. — Theodore added, drawing everyone’s attention to him quickly.

— Well, I’m sure you didn’t mention that Pucey was once one of the lucky ones Y/N got physically involved with. — Pansy said, expecting a response from Daphne.

— Believe me, I did. — Y/N looked incredulous. — That’s why he was the chosen one for the night. — The three girls burst into laughter.

— Good to know you’re passing along things about my private life. — Y/N said playfully, as she didn’t really mind the situation.

However, Theodore, who was paying more attention to the conversation, just drank his drink, without laughing or reacting to it. He was only thinking about how Y/N managed to silence Adrian so he wouldn’t spread to everyone that he was with the most popular and desired girl at Hogwarts.

[...]

At breakfast, all the friends had a clear expression of exhaustion from the previous night. It was certainly not a good idea to have parties before a day of classes.

— Good morning. — Astoria approached the group cheerfully but didn’t receive the same enthusiasm.

— Shh, no need to shout, Greengrass. — Blaise had his eyes squinted due to the light in the Great Hall. He was exaggerating; the girl spoke normally, but he seemed too sensitive.

— Sorry. — She shrugged. — I just thought I’d invite you to go dress shopping tomorrow for the winter ball next week. — Y/N, Pansy, and Daphne exchanged glances, remembering the girl's plan to get closer to them, even though she already had friends in her year. — Adrian invited me yesterday to go with him, and I accepted.

— Now, if he remembers that, that’s another thing. — Matthew, who was next to Y/N, spoke quietly and laughed. He immediately received an elbow from Y/N.

— Ouch!

— Sorry, but my mother already sent me a dress for the ball. — Y/N said gently.

— Oh, and who are you going with? — The girl seemed to no longer care about the description. Everyone in the hall fell silent, waiting for Draco’s sister’s answer. Y/N felt the pressure; she knew that if she said she was going alone, her week would be full of boys chasing her, and under the pressure of the moment, she needed to think quickly.

— I’m going with Theodore, aren’t I, Theodore? — Her answer echoing throughout the hall made the eyes widen. Nott looked up, somewhat surprised, until she nudged his leg from under the table, making him clear his throat with the contact.

— Yes... Yes, we’re going together. — All the friends looked at them in confusion. Draco had his eyebrows furrowed; they had never been close, and now they were going to the ball together?

— Enough with the interrogation! — Daphne said, giving her sister a fierce look. — Don’t you have a class now?

Everyone continued with breakfast after the younger Greengrass left. Pansy wouldn’t have the next class with Y/N but made a mental note to ask her about this news. She wondered if something was going on between them; she wouldn’t be surprised. Y/N always knew how to hide her affairs very well.

Y/N, however, tried to sit next to Theodore in Potions class, but when she arrived, there was already a Hufflepuff sitting next to him. Y/N mentally cursed herself for not hurrying at breakfast. Theodore was very handsome and never lacked options for girls, and now, close to the ball, all of them were throwing themselves at him, even though they had heard minutes ago about him being Y/N Malfoy’s date.

The girl sat at the table behind him and decided to pass him a folded note while everyone began taking notes from the board.

"Thanks for this morning; if I told the truth, I wouldn’t be at peace this week. I hope I haven’t ruined any of your invitations to other girls; in fact, I’ll see someone else to go with me today, I promise."

Theodore took the note and smiled slightly as he read, the girl next to him seemed to try to stretch to read his reply.

"Don’t worry, I didn’t have anyone in mind to bring either. We can go together if you want..."

Y/N took the folded piece of parchment from her side of the table and smiled as well at the reply.

"Although I don’t believe that Theodore Nott, so acclaimed among the girls, doesn’t have any prospects, I accept to go with you."

And again, the few words made him smile, responding with one last thing.

"I’m pleased to know about my fame among you."

Y/N laughed at the response, drawing attention in the silent room.

— Am I interrupting something, Miss Malfoy? — Snape looked coldly at her, making her immediately stop smiling.

— Oh, no. Sorry, professor. — And then, quickly, he went back to teaching.

Throughout the rest of the day, Y/N felt strange. His gaze was still extremely indecipherable to her, but it attracted her more and more. In recent months, their glances seemed to have increased in frequency. Sometimes, they would catch each other looking. Y/N felt Nott observing her while she read in the common room late at night. It was her ritual to always read a bit when the common room was empty; she liked to enjoy the silence, but when Theodore noticed the habit, he started to "accidentally" find her there day after day.

"If I didn’t know you, I’d say you were following me." Y/N said, smiling at him one night. Theodore could say it was the first time he felt truly nervous around a girl, but he maintained his composure and just smiled, staying there in silence while watching her hands turn the pages.

— And what’s this about you going to the ball with Nott? — Pansy asked, putting on a pair of socks before getting into bed.

— Good point, Pans. — Daphne turned from the vanity where she was applying products to her face. — So, Y/N?

— It was just to throw off the other boys. — She said without taking her eyes off the book.

— So, you’re not really going with him? — Pansy insisted.

— I am; we’re short on dates and decided to leave it that way. — Y/N continued scanning the words on the page.

— You and Nott? Short on dates for a ball? — Y/N nodded, pretending indifference. — Hmm, right, I see. — Pansy said with a mischievous smile, hinting at something that Y/N chose to ignore, as Parkinson often did this just by talking to another boy.

_______________________________

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨ next chapter>>>

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #slytherin #y/n #draco x reader #harrypotter #harry potter #hp #tom riddle #draco #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle #theodore nott x y/n

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littlemisslipbalm · 1 year ago

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August, honey, you were mine

Josh Kiszka x Fem!reader - Enemies to Lovers College!AU

When originally deciding to be a film and visual arts student, Y/N had thought her biggest issue would be getting a job after college. She hadn’t known that the other people in her major would actually be her greatest obstacle to completing her degree.

So this photo is insane and likely not accurate to the time that this would be set. However, IDC and he looks beautiful.

Separately, here is my College!AU Enemies to Lovers Josh fic... I started working on this over a year ago and really it's silly because I lost the feeling that I wanted him to be mean so maybe it loses steam, idk let me know what yall think pls and reblogs appreciated - lots of love xoxo etc. more to come.

Summary: Forced together by fate or maybe just scheduling, Josh and Y/N can't stand being in the same room together. Unfortunately, with classes and her shifts at the Lover's Inn, it seems that Josh is in her life more than ever. Can hate turn into love or has something been there since the beginning?

Word Count: 13 k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, enemies to lovers, nauseating fluff, SMUT 18+ (specifics below the cut)

oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, edging, mild? dirty talk, female masturbation, i think that's it!

It wasn’t that everyone was annoying. Sure, film students could be a lot, especially for Y/N when she was planning on going into costuming and styling rather than other production aspects. There were just a few overzealous students who seemed to get under her skin more than others.

Namely, Josh M. Kiszka. He was talented in many respects, begrudgingly she would admit that. However, his annoyances and shortcomings outweighed his talents tenfold. One spark of genius would cause ten pitfalls and plot holes, leaving a forest fire of destruction in his wake.

His curly hair was disturbingly trimmed leaving a small rat tail at the nape of his neck for the majority of the time she had known him –at the beginning of this year he had finally cut it and seemed to be trying to grow it out but she didn’t care. He was absurd and even disturbing at times. His smile took up too much of his face when he grinned maniacally. And she could go on.

Now, being in the same major as someone could be irritating at times, but in reality sharing one to two classes a semester shouldn’t be the end of the world. Sometimes it certainly felt like it with Josh since it seemed like he turned everything up to an 11 on purpose. A bursting zipper was a catastrophe, the wrong colored shirt was the work of the devil. But realistically, she only should’ve seen him at most eight hours out of her week – if she could avoid being paired with him for any group projects. She could do eight hours of him droning on about the intricacies of a film and chattering away about his new big idea.

What she couldn’t do was essentially work for him. And she didn’t work for him. At all. But he certainly seemed to think so every Thursday night.

The first time Josh Kiszka walked into the green room at Lover’s Inn, the college town's local venue made for serious music and serious drinking, while Y/N was working, she thought it was some sick joke. She chalked it up to the fact that her karma must be god awful and this was her cosmic punishment.

She had worked there for two years before this, consistently doing backstage work happily for the experience of potentially helping musicians with costuming and styling if they ever took her up on her offer. Mostly, her job consisted of fulfilling riders and babysitting.

On this fated Thursday, it was raining as the fading summer quickly turned into a blustery fall. The trees faded quickly, changing just as fast as they had blossomed. The biting cold of the rain had soaked her hair so when she burst through the stage right door, a spray of rain flew from her head as she gasped in the warm room temperature air.

First rain made people drive terribly, making her later than she would’ve liked to set up the things requested by the band tonight. She was slightly bummed that because she was rushing, she might not have a chance to offer her assistance with styling of the new band, but she thought she’d just ask to help them out at a later date since her manager had told her that if they played well tonight they were going to get the recurring Thursday night spot.

Greta Van Fleet was their name, which she thought was cool, but given their rider, she had a funny feeling that they were probably like most local Michigan bands, mediocre at best, creeps at worst.

The two cases of beers as well as some strange hippie bullshit snacks gave her the inkling of what to expect.

The moment she hears her name from a particular voice, a pit of dread opens up in her stomach. She didn’t know exactly why he was here but she knew instantly that tonight was going to be a long, long night. She finished straightening out the tea corner the band had requested and swiveled around to face the curly-haired bastard. The stupid smirk was already on his lips and his eyes were full of the tell-tale mischief that came with Josh.

“You got a crush on me or something?” He quirks his head with a raise of his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”

Josh knew she didn’t have a crush on him. Quite the opposite of it, but he loved to see her get furious with him. It brought him insurmountable joy.

“Never in your most self-serving, indulgent fantasies,” She seethes and juts a hip and folds her arms across her chest, taking on a defensive stance immediately. “I work here, Josh. What are you doing here?”

He grins, taking a few more steps into the room before pausing and looking around for a moment. His eyes cast around the worn leather couches, the two rugs mismatched and covering one another, a circular coffee table that had clearly seen too much cocaine in its heyday, and the table filled with snacks and drinks perfectly placed for his band’s amusement, before returning to his classmate staring at him with an appalled but also concerned face.

“Work, of sorts,” He shrugs, the smile never leaving his face. “Moreso play.”

She rolls her eyes but feels her breath hitch as Josh crosses the room further, coming extremely close to her. Her eyes widen as he continues to smile at her with an innocence she knew was an act. It doesn’t leave his intensely sculpted face that was unseasonably tanned for Michigan, even if summer had just ended. His hand reaches out to the right of her frame and plucks a fruit snack pack from the basket she had placed them in five minutes prior.

“Those are for–”

“The band?” He asks, his head cocked to the side once more, after finishing tearing the bag open with nimble fingers. “Thanks, by the way, lover. You got my favorite brand.”

The pure joy Josh had just found in seeing her face contort in disgust at the nickname he had just come up with meant it wasn’t going away anytime soon. He thought he was clever for calling her something inaccurate yet also fitting since her place of work was called Lover’s Inn. In his eyes, it was perfect.

“You’re not…” She trails off seeing the delight in Josh’s features.

He nods, not taking a step back from her personal space and popping an organic fruit snack into his smug mouth. “I am. The lead singer, actually.”

She turns back around to remove herself from the close proximity of Josh. “You’re just bullshitting me,” She mutters, shaking her head, refusing to believe him despite her knowing realistically, it was likely true.

“No –” His next thought, likely one to continue his aggravating crusade, was cut off by someone else’s voice.

“Josh, y’know you could help with the drum kit, like you’re supposed to,” A younger man with long flowing locks complains as he carries in two bass cases. His hair was damp, but drying, signifying the rain was subsiding. Josh’s hair had given no indication of the weather due to the drying but jarringly yellow umbrella that lay abandoned by the door.

Once the cases are carefully set down in a corner of the room, he realizes that Josh was not alone. He uses a hand to flip his long hair back from his face and regards the other person in the room, coming to Josh’s side.

“Hey,” He sticks the same hand out and has a goofily familiar grin on his face. “I’m Sam.”

She takes his hand, telling him her name while giving his hand a shake before letting go rather quickly, she was confused.

“You’re in the band,” She confirms to Sam, who nods affirmatively. “And Josh is in it too?” She asks more skeptically.

“Sure is,” Sam looks at Josh quickly before smiling again, like an all knowing fox. “He likes to act like we’re already famous and don’t have to load our own equipment, but we’ll be lucky to score this gig, Ja–”

“Okay, Sammy,” Josh cuts the younger boy off. “I’ll come out and help, just, shut the hell up.”

Y/N quirks her head as she watches them shuffle back out of the same door she had come through twenty minutes prior, watching the way they interact with one another. She goes back to finishing up the table. It looked fine, but she still felt the need to turn all of the fruit snacks so that they were facing forward and make sure the extras of things she had bought were clearly accessible.

Another younger guy with curlier hair walked in while she was still fussing over the table, a part of a drum kit on his back and a drawstring backpack in his hand.

“I’m Danny,” He introduces quickly after shuffling off the large equipment bag and placing it on the outside of the green room door that leads to the rest of the venue. “Drummer.”

She nods and introduces herself once more, directing him to the table of the fulfilled rider items and that she was around to answer any questions that weren’t specifically technical. Her job, after fulfilling the rider, was handling the band before and after they performed, essentially. She attempted to make that more styling and costume related, but in reality she just was there to make sure no one got too hammered before going out on the stage and no one passed out in the green room afterwards. It was a small venue and therefore a small crew but thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about the instruments as well. Just the people.

When Josh returned to the room through the side door, she was still waiting at the entrance. Her body leaned against the inner frame of the door. It was shut to keep the noise of the rest of the venue out of here, and vice versa. She didn’t want to be in the room any longer than she had to be, but she needed to check off with the entirety of the band. It was to ensure that all of them were here prior to their set and to check in with them about anything else they might need. Now that she knew Josh was in the band, she really wished she could just leave. She certainly was not going to ask about styling, she already had her allotment of fighting over clothing with Josh for the week in class on Tuesday.

The surprising thing about Josh’s arrival is the second copy of him that appears behind him. Like the first stranger, he had long stringy brown hair and slopey dark brown eyes. Unlike Sam, however, he was literally identical to Josh. One realization came to her silently, Sam was Josh’s little brother, that’s why his grin had been so unnervingly familiar.

This man, just two steps behind Josh, though, he was more than familiar. He was the spitting image of Josh except for his hair.

She can’t stop this realization from being audible. As the two of them stand practically side by side as they converse with one another, seeming to almost mirror one another, she blurts out words before she can think twice.

“Twins!” Her voice sounds overjoyed at the realization that they were identical. There was a hopeful glinting look in her eyes as her hands clasp in front of her and she smiles. The fact that Josh was a pain in her ass is forgotten for a moment because she finds it so interesting and unbelievable that identical twins were standing before her and that she had known one all along without knowing it.

Josh stops speaking mid-sentence to regard her and he’s surprised by her reaction. The twin looks perplexed as well with a raised left eyebrow. She is wowed once more.

Josh says her name and hands Danny the rest of his drum kit. “This is my other brother, Jake.”

“And you’re twins? Identical?” She repeats after Jake waves.

“I think you know the answer to that,” Josh throws his hands up in a theatric flourish adding to the condescending tone.

Jake replies far more cordially. “What Josh means to say is, yes we are identical twins. Thanks for noticing.”

“I’m sorry,” She back tracks, remembering the situation and laughing, still feeling off-kilter. “I’ve known Josh for two unbelievably long years and he’s never mentioned once that he has an identical twin brother that he’s in a band with – and he talks enough for it to have come up at least once.”

Josh rolls his eyes with a huff of breath, deciding that he wants to continue helping with their equipment and belongings rather than listen to what he was sure was about to turn into a ‘shit on Josh’ situation.

Jake’s laughter is loud and unadulterated as he crosses the room towards Y/N with the same smile his brothers had, except his didn’t make her want to wring his neck. “He’s always talked too much, I can asure you that. What makes you clearly an unwilling acquaintance of his?”

The grin on her face feels like it’s taking up the entire room. Already, Josh’s twin was leaps and bounds ahead of him in terms of how much she wanted to be around this person. She also liked his hair, it was long and pretty, maybe it needed a good shampoo and condition but it didn’t have a rat tail, which was the biggest plus in her book. When Josh had returned this school year without it, she had rejoiced but also been slightly dismayed that she hadn’t had the satisfaction of snipping it off herself. On several occasions, she remembered waking up with a triumphant smile after cutting it off in some of her more vivid dreams. She wasn’t completely sure if she could be trusted with scissors around Josh so maybe it was better in the end.

“We’re the same major, unfortunately.”

“Oh,” Jake’s voice holds deep understanding. “I’m sure that can be a lot. I used to help out on his films when we were in high school, so I know he’s…passionate.”

She snorts and shakes her head, acknowledging what he had said before once again remembering she was working. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.” She casts her eyes around the room and sees that the four guys are all in the room. Josh had returned and was trying and failing to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping on her and Jake’s conversation. “Anyways, now that I know you’re all here, I can leave you be. Just let me know if there’s anything you need before your set. The techs will come in around,” She pauses looking at her watch. “7:00 to have y’all go set up and go over that kind of stuff. You need to be out on that stage at 8, no if’s, and’s or but’s. Also, if you do get the recurring slot, I’d love to help y’all with styling if you’d be interested since that’s more my expertise.”

She hears Josh snort at her last sentence but she pointedly ignores it, only looking at the other three band members.

“How do we find you if we need something?” Sam asks, settling into the darkest brown leather couch like a lanky puppy, all limbs and no idea how to control them gracefully.

“I, uh,” She stops, realizing she normally handed out her phone number since she hated the radios they were supposed to use. For some reason, giving her number to Josh’s band made her uneasy and then she remembered with a sigh. “Josh has my number from previous group projects, assuming he knows how to use his phone he should be able to give it to you.”

“What’s your number again?”

“You don’t have me saved?” She’s exasperated to say the least and a little offended otherwise. They had quite literally been paired in a duo group project their first week of college, two years ago. If he hadn’t saved her number after all this time, she’s sure she would strangle him.

“I think I do,” He looks down at his phone, scrolling through something, “just double checking something.”

“Give me your phone,” She rolls her eyes and places the palm of her hand out waiting for the weight of Josh’s phone to be felt. She types in her number into the search bar of his contacts. The names dwindle until only ‘August’ pops up. She finishes typing the entire number and the name ‘August’ is still staring back at her on the screen. She looks between the phone and Josh a few times before clicking the name and verifying that it was her phone number.

“Why the fuck do you have me as ‘August’ in your phone?”

Josh grins triumphant and satisfied. When she glares at him, he shrugs and plucks the phone back from her grasp. “We met in August, I didn’t remember your name from class and I didn’t bother to ask. By the time I knew it, I couldn’t be bothered to change it.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Is Lover better or worse than August? Because I’m willing to change it to that,” He continues looking at her with that wolfish look in his eye.

“I fucking hate you.” She says with a shake of her head before addressing the rest of the room again. “Well, if any of you three need me, don’t hesitate to find me down the hall or get my number from the gremlin that fronts your band and shoot me a text. Josh, do not bother me.”

“Only in my dreams, I know, lover.” Josh mimics being shot by an arrow in his heart and stumbles back before winking evilly at her.

“Right,” She sighs heavily and tries to smile lightly at the other three who offer her sympathetic smiles back. “I’ll be back at 7:45 if no one needs me before then.”

A chorus of thanks follows her out the door and she ignores Josh’s voice again as she goes. It’s pitched up and honeyed sweet and it makes her sick.

That was the first night. They had been good. Josh’s voice was surprisingly amazing and the rest of them were talented with their instruments. Jake was especially good on the guitar. She tried to focus on the instruments rather than Josh’s voice but it was almost impossible to listen to just one piece of their music, they all complemented each other so well. Even Josh’s voice didn’t overpower but finished the rest of the music being made.

They had also been clean and on time. Two things her manager liked even more than a good sounding band that amassed a crowd was a good sounding band that didn’t require a lot of assistance or cleaning up after. Greta Van Fleet secured the recurring Thursday night gig at Lover’s Inn. Which ensured that she got to endure more Josh Kiszka in her life than ever before.

They would fight in class and bicker during group projects that they got paired for and then to end her week just perfectly, she’d have Josh at her place of work, continuing to push her buttons and attempting to boss her around.

He delighted in calling her ‘Lover’ and being a nuisance when she was trying to help one of his bandmates. He always had issues with the vests and belts she found for him, despite them being exactly what he asked for, if not better. And he always, always had that stupid smug smirk on his face when he was around her.

In the middle of the semester, the film and visual arts third years were assigned a very intensive project. It could be alone or in groups but you had to do it all if you did it alone. As luck would have it or maybe it was just a cruel joke being played on her by the rest of the department, she and Josh were the only two not paired up who didn’t want to work alone. She contemplated doing it all on her own, but she knew she wasn’t the strongest writer and with the rest of her classes and the Lover’s Inn gig keeping her busy, she had to swallow her pride. Bite the bullet that was Josh Kiszka now entering another part of her life: her life away from both school and work.

They had looked at one another with dismay in their eyes. Even Josh couldn’t spin this as a way to torture her, this was genuinely not his ideal scenario for an important project either. They departed class on Wednesday with a sighing compromise that they would talk about it after the gig on Thursday.

On Thursday, Josh arrived first out of his band mates to the green room. She was there, finishing up unloading the grocery bags and double checking the cleanliness of the room. Even if Josh was a pain in her ass, she didn’t let her negative feelings for him change how she did her job.

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan, lover!” Josh greets, resting his backpack at the edge of the couch closest to the side stage door.

She sighed. She rejoiced on the Thursdays when it was one of the others to stroll through the door first, so that she wouldn’t have to be alone with Josh anymore for the week. Bringing herself to face him was hard, she had already seen enough of him this week and after the big announcement in class yesterday, she really could do without hearing his voice.

“I know you’ve probably heard this a lot before, so you should understand when I say ‘not in the mood’.”

“Oh lover, you wound me,” He gives her moon eyes before he rolls his eyes and walks around the room, continuing to place his stuff where he liked. The band had been working here for two months now and each of them had gotten into a groove. They had their spots and corners that they liked to chill in until it was time to get to work.

“Do you want your clothes or not?” She leans into her hip as she stares at him expectantly, waiting for him to stop messing around with the throw blanket’s tassels.

“I’d certainly go out and perform naked, I’m sure lots of people would thank you for your brilliant idea. Me in my true glory.”

She scoffs and crosses to her tote bag, dropped by the entrance. She shuffles through it for Josh’s new vest and the belt she found that matched it perfectly. The vest was tan with gold embellishments and looked like it would fit his small frame. The belt was also encrusted with gold broqaue and turquoise stones with a loud engraved buckle to finish it off.

With the pieces in hand, she crossed to his seat on the couch. Josh had his legs spread in a way that required her to stand between them or else she would have to lean awkwardly forward to give the clothes to him. She hated even the way he sat, making her life harder. He reclined back on the couch with his arms over the back of it, the light blue ratty t-shirt he wore stretched and strained over his biceps the way he was sitting. Her eye flickered to it for a split second in mild surprise, obviously he showed them off in the vests, but they seemed to bulge in their current state.

“Lay it on me, lover,” He grins lazily up at her, one hand flipping up right and motioning for her to give it to him.

She shakes her head at him and drops them carelessly on his lap. The belt was heavy enough for him to make a groaning sound. Normally she would walk out of the room at this point, just to get a little bit of time away from Josh. The rest of the band was reliable and she knew they’d all have arrived in the next ten minutes. However, something about Josh’s demeanor made her pause. It was something in the way his eyes looked.

Normally they were wide and bright with evil intentions. Today they still looked mischievous but a little more droopy, his movements a little less agile. She stares at his face, searching for the answer and noticing the way he just lets her.

“Finally decided you want some of this action, lover?” Josh mumbles, eyes fluttering closed as he lays his head back against the couch. “Stopped denying your true feelings…”

She crouches down to be on the same level as Josh, her face getting close to his as she inspects him closely. One of her hands goes to his eyelid, as she leans over him, opening his eye manually.

“Are you fucking stoned, right now?”

He swats her hand away from him and sits back up, pushing her back so that she’s still crouched between his legs. His face looms above hers, the lazy grin still visible on his face, as she stares up at him. Their faces are an inch apart and the space is hot in the already warm room. Her eyes widened expectantly.

“Shh, don’t tell August, she’ll yell at me.”

“I am…” She pauses, realizing Josh was still fucking with her. She puts a hand to his chest and pushes him back against the couch, causing laughter to bubble from his lips. “Fuck you, Josh.” She states, standing up again and stalking out of the room with a final. “Weed better not fuck up your singing, asshole.”

“Thanks for the vest, lover!”

Besides strutting around the stage a bit more sluttily and carrying notes just a tad bit longer than necessary, high Josh functioned about the same as regular Josh. After the show, the band loaded up their gear once more in the back of Danny’s van that they lovingly all called the Greta Van. Normally, Josh would hitch a ride home with him and Sam or hang around the front of house getting sloshed with his twin. Tonight, he begrudgingly sulked around the green room, informing his brothers that he ‘had a meeting with the bosslady.’

August had overheard it and rolled her eyes. “We’re unfortunately partnered for an extremely important project. I’m worried I made the wrong choice and should’ve just gone it alone.”

She grimaced as Jake wished her luck while Sammy and Dan gave her sympathetic gazes, mumbling their condolences.

“It can only be as bad as we make it, lover.” Josh huffed, resuming his seat from earlier on the larger of the leather couches.

“Are you sober enough for us to begin planning now?” She glared and folded a leg behind her to take a seat on the far end of the same couch.

Josh scoffed with a flip of his hand. “Oh c’mon it was just a couple bowls before going on to perform art.” Josh trailed off, mumbling as he stared around the room.

“Repeat that?” She urged.

“It’s not like it was the first time,” He repeated louder but still softly.

She groaned. “God, Josh.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Y’know what? Fuck if I care. Let’s just get our plan laid out so we can go home.”

Josh nodded curtly. Her eyes flickered to his face in surprise that he didn’t protest.

“Okay,” She started, speaking cautiously. “I’ll obviously take the lead on costuming and you on writing, but we’ll need to collaborate on directing and creative direction. Do you have any ideas for stories you want to tell?”

Josh hummed, head falling to the back of the couch in contemplation. “Cults, a modern Greek tragedy, a bar comedy –we could set it right here, erh star-crossed lovers? What about you or are you just gonna keep all your ideas to yourself?”

“I was waiting to see if you had any worthwhile ideas.” She shrugged, scribbling something down on a notepad Josh hadn’t seen her produce. “The modern take on a Greek tragedy could be interesting…”

“I also was thinking about something similar with a modern take on a classic film like ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ or something to that extent. I like the idea of a post-college existential crisis coming of age female lead type story but I doubt you’d care for that.”

“No, no, no,” Josh sat up straight. “Don’t put your assumed misogyny on me! I’d love to do a female lead coming of age post-college existential crisis story! How dare you?”

She smiled at her page and then up at Josh. “My mistake.”

Their eyes met and the room felt eerily quiet with both of their mouths shut for once. The dingy yellow lights bathed the room in a homey glow. The worn leather was warm beneath their skin, inviting them to settle in.

Then simultaneously, they said: “Modern take of a Greek tragedy that is a coming of age post-college female lead story!”

“Fuck yes!” Y/N rose onto her knees in excitment as Josh’s entire face lit up, leaning forward in excitement.

“Let’s fucking go!”

They laughed and high fived, feeling an unexpected and unknown emotion of shared understanding and initial accomplishment. They talked plot, characters and logline, the main bones of the project they needed to get started on and split up what each of them would flesh out for their next meeting. It was decided that it would be best to meet after class on Wednesdays rather than Thursdays after shows just so that they didn’t have to hang around Lover’s Inn when it was just the locals in the front of the house and so that Jake didn’t get too lonely when he wanted to drink himself under the bar.

Josh felt a weird inclination to walk her to her car that night. He knew which car was hers, he always looked for it in the parking lot when he would pull up on Thursdays – a 90s classic black Volvo sedan with a dreamcatcher hanging on the rearview mirror.

She had regarded Josh oddly when he insisted on walking her over to the car even though the parking lot was empty with plenty of light. Then she noticed again that the lot was empty beside her car and the bartender’s, who was still working.

“Where’s your car?”

Josh kicked at a pebble with his sneaker and shrugged his shoulders with his hands stuffed in his khakis pockets.

She frowned remembering his high state earlier today. At least he was somewhat responsible, but with no foresight. “Did you want a ride?”

“Nah.” He shook his head vehemently. “I walked in, I can walk out.”

“Yeah,” She agreed. “But it’s dark out now.”

“It was dark out earlier.” He reasoned with his usual smirk trying to win his way out of this one.

“Not this dark, not this cold,” She insisted, pushing his shoulder to move towards the passenger’s side door. “And not this late. Get in.”

In the small interior of the Volvo, Josh took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together as she cranked the heat and shivered herself before getting her music playing.

“Thanks,” Josh whispered, grateful.

“Can’t have you dying on me,” She replied. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she was focused on backing up carefully, twisting around and switching gears, and she barely noticed when she finished her sentence under her breath. “For so many reasons.”

In the dark of the car, lit only by the moon and streetlamps around, Josh watched her uninterrupted. She sang under the music she had chosen for the drive. A CD that had already been in the reader of Radiohead.

Josh listened along to the dulcet melancholy voice of Thom Yorke. He likes how she knew all the words but paused every so often to look to Josh for directions.

“Nice house,” she said, turning down the stereo when they arrived.

Josh shrugged, turning his head from her to the classic Michigan two-story with its basic driveway and porch. Dark wood everywhere and an old tree in the front yard. There were warm lights coming from a few windows in the house and it looked like a home.

“It’s fine. Jake, Sammy and I rent it from a family friend so it’s a good deal.”

“That’s nice.” She feels awkward, making small talk with Josh.

It’s the antithesis of their usual relationship of bickering and jabbing and avoiding. It’s soft and casual. Warm and inviting in the familiar seats of her car, with her music. Josh kind of seemed at peace in her car. It was unusual, regarding him looking so quiet and calm.

“Alright.” She breaks the silence.

Josh takes the cue, blinking out of whatever trance was keeping him from taking his leave from her car and getting into his house for the night.

“Night,” he speaks softly. “Thanks for the ride…and, uh, see you Monday, I guess.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, watching him get out of the car, carefully taking his bag and his new vest and belt into his arms.

She waits for him to get inside before driving off. Still unsure of the feeling in her stomach, she blasts the Radiohead a little louder to drown out her speculations.

By the end of November, they were almost through with the filming portion of their project. Yet it was time for a relatively complicated scene. Well, it shouldn’t have been complicated if the weather had been right but unfortunately they were venturing into true winter in Michigan.

Josh and Y/N had settled on the tragedy of Hippolytus after attempting the tragedy of Medea but deciding it was too overdone — how many stories of a woman scorned by a man leaving her could we want? Instead, the twist of Hippolytus in the 21st century would allow for an interesting female lead whose story didn’t start because of a man.

Instead, like Hippolytus, their lead had decided against sex and relationships during college. Josh and Y/N had worried about making it purity porn but decided that they would balance the true story with modernity enough that it would work.

In the Greek tragedy, the woman interested in Hippolytus killed herself after being rejected by him, however that was another place they would depart. Instead, the counter to the lead would be hurt randomly and there would be a need for the lead to help them. This leads her to pursue psychology and therapy—medicine felt too cliche. But she knew she wanted to help people. Their bond eventually grows to love even though it’s not what she intended. However, both the therapy and the relationship help her find meaning to life, bringing her out of the existential crisis that started the story.

So they were filming the scene where the counter, James, was meant to get hurt. The short film was going to be narrated by a modern Aphrodite so some silliness was injected into it. She was interfering with the lead, Hyacinth, in hopes to persuade her to fall into bed with someone.

James lived next door and was washing his car, shirtless, when Hyacinth walked out her front door, about to go to gym—another one of her ideas of how to find purpose in life, pushing her body until it had no energy to think. Jason was meant to have gotten soap all over him from leaning across the hood of the car, like a male fantasy but reversed, and then point the hose towards him and wash it all off sexily. Of course, the student they had cast, weirdly also named James, was attractive but he was an angel and an ex-theater kid, so he couldn’t quite get it right and he was beginning to shiver even though they had the water as warm as possible and were covering him up between every take.

Josh was attempting to hold back laughter but after the third bad take, Y/N yelled ‘cut’ and walked into the scene.

“James, here hand me the handle,” she said.

Taking hold of the metal length at the end of hose that was turned off, she began to instruct James to do exactly what she was showing him. She turned it towards her and held it above her chest with her head tilted back, eyes closed. She sighed for a moment and then briefly moved up as if the water were hitting her face and then ran her free hand against her cheek, allowing her lips to open further and then ran the same hand down the front of her neck, down her chest and her stomach, brushing to the side just as she got to the top of her thighs.

James watched carefully, not phased by the directing. Josh gawked. His eyes almost bugged out of his head watching her and wondering if just maybe that’s what she looked like in a shower. Her soft hands would be running over her soft naked skin instead of her warm winter sweater and jeans, but still. He could imagine. The sudsy soap and bare skin touching the cool tiles and warm water. Fuck. He needed her to never do that again ever.

The last month he had seen more of Y/N than he had ever thought possible. Except now, he looked forward to it without pretending it was because he wanted to bug her. Josh wanted to know what she was thinking about every aspect of their project and he wanted to hear about her weekend and he wanted to kiss her against the walls in the green room when his brothers weren’t there. He didn’t act on the third thing, but he wanted to.

“Josh?” She raised an eyebrow, still holding the hose above her chest. “Josh?” She repeated.

He blinked. “Huh?”

“I asked if you agreed? Does that fit with an Aphrodite induced sexy car wash scene you imagined?”

He smiled weakly and she tilted her head in silent worry. Hopefully Josh wasn’t getting sick.

Of course it is, doesn’t even need a Greek god to intervene and make it hotter, she just was.

“Yeah, yep, fantastic,” Josh rushed. “James, you got it? We’re losing light.”

A cloud was rolling in from the east and Josh knew that if they didn’t finish soon they might get rained out.

James nodded and they ran the scene again. The actor nailed it and after Josh yelled cut, Y/N squealed in accomplishment. They high fived and Josh’s eyes linked on the side of her neck where her fingers had brushed as she had caressed herself minutes ago—professionally.

After that, they wrapped for the day, Josh still concerned about the rain, sending the actors and helpers home. Y/N hung around to help Josh bring his equipment back into his house. They were using the front of it for the scene. On their last trip to grab things from the street, thankfully all non-electronic, the beginning of what would be a long rainstorm began in full force.

This time it was Josh to shriek and Y/N laughed as they ran under the awning of the porch after grabbing everything left as quickly and carefully as possible. It didn’t matter, they were pretty drenched.

She tried to catch her breath from running and laughing while Josh felt his hair with a look of dismay.

“You know you’re stuck here,” Josh grumbled, looking out at the pouring rain. He hated the way she seemed to enjoy his displeasure at being wet.

“As long as you’ve got a spare change of clothes, a hot shower and a gas stove in case the power goes out, I’m fine.” She shrugs, pushing the screen door open and putting her half of Josh’s stuff on the entryway bench.

Josh followed behind with his binder and a few rain-ruined scripts.

“Anyone else home?” She wanders through the hall to the living room, peeling off her sweater and leaving her boots by the wall.

Josh shakes his head, “Probably not, it pisses Jake off when I film at the house and Sam usually goes to Danny’s on the weekend.”

She inspects her jeans and t-shirt before looking at Josh. “I want to shower now, can you find me clothes and put them in the bathroom before I get out?”

“Who made you queen?”

“This isn’t Lover’s Inn, I’m not on the clock and I’m your guest who’s trapped here…feel like you’re supposed to dote on me.”

Josh rolled his eyes, feeling the memory of their feud flickering like an ember in the pit of his stomach. He wants to tease her, say something biting to turn the tables on her. But she was right, they weren’t in any of the situations they were usually in with one another. More uncharted territory.

“You’re annoying,” he offered lamely.

She chuckled and pushed at his shoulder lightly as he passed, assuredly showing her to the bathroom. “Try harder, lover.”

Josh scoffed without turning his head around, but the feeling in his stomach grew as he heard her feet padding behind him. The rain was loud on the tall roof, fast and foreboding. It might’ve been adding to Josh’s unease.

At the end of this new hallway, there were three doors. One to a bedroom, Josh’s, a closet and the bathroom. He opened the closet to grab fresh towels he kept for when he didn’t want to do laundry that week and walked them into the bathroom.

It was surprisingly clean but Josh had his own bathroom, forcing Jake and Sam to share the other one, claiming he was the oldest so he got the most privacy.

She smiled at the tub. “Should I have a soak instead? Do you have any good wine?”

“This is not a fucking hotel,” Josh laughed. He handed her the towels and she gave him a pointed look. “But I’ll open a bottle.”

“Good boy,” She continued to smirk. “Maybe I’ll leave a nice tip.”

Josh pinkened slightly. She’d never been like this before. He felt like he was falling into some world where Aphrodite really was fucking with his life.

15 minutes later, Josh returned to the bathroom where Y/N was showering and pushed the door open. She had music playing but he could hear the water still running.

He walked in and placed the sweatshirt and clean boxers on the counter. Her wet clothes were in a puddle on the floor beside the shower mat and he swallowed. A pretty pink lace thong and a black lacy bra laid atop her top and jeans. He took a breath and went to head for the door, turning away from the clothes. But Y/N’s own breath caught his attention.

Her grunge 90s music was playing from her phone but she was breathing hard and Josh stopped short. His eyes shot to the shower curtain. The place he had been avoiding with all his power. It was sheer. Her silhouette was hard to see but it looked like it was writhing. He saw one of her hands slipping around her chest and he bit his lip. She was certainly squeezing her tits and she was breathing hard and he couldn’t see her other hand.

He put his own hand to his mouth to stop any shocked sounds slipping out. She must have forgotten that he was coming back. When he saw her silhouette drop to the floor of the tub, Josh snapped out of his trance.

He grabbed the clothes and slipped out the door, closing it as quietly as possible just as he heard a breathy ‘fuck’ he would dream about for weeks.

“Shit,” he whispered to himself. Letting his head fall against the now closed door, he took a deep centering breath before knocking loudly. “I’m leaving your clothes out here, kay? Gonna open that wine.”

Her voice was normal in response and Josh was wondering if he had just hallucinated. Had he accidentally taken a gummy and forgotten. Seemed unlikely since he usually wouldn’t when he was working on film stuff.

“Sounds good! Thanks, Josh!”

Josh tried to be normal when she came into his room in his clothes, rubbing his towel through her wet hair. He’d left the wine and two mismatched glasses on his bedside table. He mumbled that she could start without him as he passed her to jump in the shower himself.

On the fogged main mirror, she had written, “don’t work when it’s about to rain!”

Josh smiled to himself and stripped down out of his clothes that were still uncomfortably wet. His shower was much quicker and much colder. He couldn’t allow himself to be in there for very long or else he would’ve started to fantasize about what he was certain had just happened in here.

In his room, Y/N sat on his bed, taking large sips of the red wine Josh had found. She was nervous. Something about this storm was making her uneasy. The scene they had shot had done something to her. Everytime she looked at Josh, she swore he was eyefucking her and that made her feel strange. Extremely turned on. She had thought dealing with it in the shower would’ve solved it but the minute she walked out and saw Josh looking so sullen, still in his rain-soaked clothes sans his jacket, waiting for her to get out, she felt wet again. If anything, the quick wank had made it worse. Already slick and wanting, she wasn’t sure if she could handle being around just Josh for the night.

Now that they were friends, she couldn’t deny how attractive he was. God, it made her roll her eyes. He was talented and attractive and she was sitting in his bed, drinking his wine in his comfy clothes all at her request.

If it couldn’t get any worse, Josh walked into his room with his towel hanging around his hips and his chest speckled with droplets coming down from his hair.

“Didn’t have time to dry off?” She tilted her head, trying to sound casual. Unbothered when she was fully, terribly, bothered.

Josh shook his head, making more droplets fly around the room. “Forgot my own clothes.” He shuffled through his myriad of t-shirts and grabbed a gray one with a Buddhist symbol and black sweatpants.

“You sound like you need a drink,” she tried.

“Yes,” Josh sighed as if he was coming out of a desert with no water. He held his hand out and she quickly poured the second glass and placed it in his waiting hand.

Their fingers brushed and both of them pulled back as if they’d been burned. She met Josh’s widened, brown eyes looking dark in his navy room that was shadowed by the storm and his one yellow lamp. He clutched carefully to his towel and the clothes under his arm with the wine in his other hand, taking a long sip as he turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom.

She let her head hit the headboard of Josh’s bed. What the fuck was going on? She took another sip of her wine and then refilled the glass up high.

When Josh returned clothed, he sat on the foot of the bed and she silently refilled his glass when she saw it was already empty.

“So…what do you want to do?” She tries while folding her legs up under her chin.

Josh’s eyes flicker to the movement and get stuck on her legs for a moment before returning to her face.

“Movie?”

She shrugs, looking around his room for a television. “I don’t want to sit in your living room, your couch looks uncomfortable.”

“That’s where you’re sleeping if you can’t get home tonight,” Josh scoffs.

She arches an eyebrow and takes a sip of her wine. “I’ll sleep in Jake’s bed, he won’t mind.”

“No.” Josh stated flatly.

Her eyes turn back to him, cautiously. “Why not?”

“It’s weird.”

“No it’s not.” She sounds annoyed, placing her wine down and picking up her phone. “I’ll just text him and ask.”

The text sends and she smirks at Josh pointedly. Shortly after, a loud crash of thunder signals the power leaving for the rest of the storm and with it, the phone signals.

Josh smirks triumphantly over his glass when Y/N throws her phone dejectedly on the side table too, while he flicks on his battery powered lamp he had grabbed earlier as a precaution.

“Couch it is.”

She lays sideways along the top of Josh’s bed and hums, raising her hands above her head, allowing the bottom of the sweater to lift and expose her stomach. Feeling perfectly buzzed from the wine, she sighs, “I don’t know, this feels pretty comfy and I’m already settled. Maybe you should sleep on the couch since you love it so much.”

Josh watched her body extending across his bed and simultaneously wanted her there forever and to throw her out.

“Absolutely not. This is my house.”

“And I’m the guest,” she repeats. “C’mon lover, don’t be mean.”

“You’ve never seen mean,” Josh rolls his eyes and finishes his wine, laying it with hers on the table.

She laughs, outrageously loud. “You’re a lot of things, Josh. But I don’t think you’ve got a truly mean bone in your body or however that cliche goes. Evil sure, but that’s different.”

She hasn’t bothered to sit up and she’s enjoying the tone of voice Josh is slipping into and everything feels quite nice and warm. So warm. She shuts her eyes.

“No, no,” Josh hurries, moving himself so that he is closer to her. He pats her cheek lightly. “No falling asleep in my bed. Not allowed.”

“But I’m so comfy and cozy,” She croons, blinking her eyes back open. The smirk on her face gives her away.

“C’mon.” Josh takes her shoulders to push her upright. “Sit up.”

She laughs, but it dies out, recognizing the proximity of Josh’s face to hers. How his body is hovering over hers. How warm she is. “Fuck,” she whispers, staring at his lips, slightly stained from the wine.

“What?” Josh whispers back, realizing the same things as her. How soft the smallest bit of her skin is against his finger that’s on her shoulder, slipping along the collar of the sweater.

“Your lips are red,” she states.

Josh grins and lets his head fall between them with a laugh. “So are yours.”

He looks back at her and remembers the way she sounded in the bathroom. All the years he’d known her. All their fights. And how they weren’t really fighting anymore. How he teased her at Lover’s Inn and how good she’d been as his partner this last month and a half.

“What are we going to do with no power, August,” Josh whispered, already inching his face closer to hers.

She smiled and let her hands reach up to cup his face and neck. “Read the Bible by candlelight?” She whispered back as Josh’s nose nudged against hers.

He breathed a laugh across her lips and her breath caught in her throat when he finally attached his lips to hers. They kissed softly, just taking it in. Josh shifted them into a more comfortable position, one leg slotting between hers, while the other supported him so his torso wasn’t fully on her.

She whimpered immediately at the pressure and Josh smirked. He pressed harder, licking into her mouth.

She gasped when Josh began to kiss her neck and he spoke against her neck in between sucking against the skin. “I heard you.”

“W-what?” She was staring at the ceiling while she ran one hand against his shoulder and the other through his hair.

“I. Heard. You.” Josh repeated, allowing one of his hands to run under the sweater up towards her breast and she whimpered again. “Fuck,” he loved the way she sounded. “In the shower, lover.”

Her eyes shot wider, the haze of Josh’s lavishing touch disappeared with shame. “You did?”

Josh pulled back with a lazy grin, still playing with one of her nipples under her shirt and pecks her lips quickly.

“Yeah you fuckin’ told me to bring your clothes in because you’re a princess apparently and then you were in there getting off when I walked in.”

She felt embarrassed but remembered what was likely about to happen so it didn’t really matter. “Oh…I tried to deal with it quietly. I was just really turned on for some reason.”

Josh scoffed and retreated his hand from under her sweater. “C’mon,” he gestured to the sweater.

They were still acting like film partners through this interaction. Or at least how they acted. Talking casually while in the beginning of a sexual encounter.

She took it off and threw it to the ground while staring pointedly at Josh’s shirt. He followed suit before kissing her again. His chest looked so soft and warm, she wanted to be wrapped up in him.

“First, I almost had a heart attack at the sight of your thong and then I turned to leave and you’re in there playing with this thing.” He pauses his words, slipping his hand inside the boxers she was wearing, cupping her pussy.

She whines, extending her neck to kiss Josh’s. Feeling the need to touch more of him. He grins down at her again and kisses the space between her tits.

His hand rubbed ever so slightly over her mound without actually doing anything, but she felt the slightest friction and the pooling of her wetness. She grabbed at one of her tits.

“The curtain’s not opaque, August,” he continues and she groans at the nickname at a time like this. His middle finger slipped lower, hovering over her slit. He looked her in the eyes again. “I saw you writhing around your own little fingers. What’s it gonna look like when it’s mine your pretty pussy is wrapped around?”

She moaned at his words, throwing her head back against the pillows.

“Is it pretty? I bet it’s pretty.” Josh continued his special version of torture. She could feel his fingers but they weren’t doing anything she wanted them to. Every so often he planted a kiss on her torso. Of course he liked to tease by talking forever and ever.

“Take off the boxers and find out,” She tries not to sound impatient.

“Great idea!” Josh patronizes, slipping his hand out of the boxers completely and moving to take off the boxers.

She huffs.

“Don’t act spoiled,” Josh admonishes, returning his hand back to where it was while his other cups her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes again. He looks like an angel like this but so sure of himself. She’s amazed and completely at his will. “I know she already got to cum once under this roof.” He tsked, tapping his middle finger against her entrance. It was the lightest pat but she was so wet that Josh’s finger got a little of her slick nonetheless.

She moaned at the change in sensation, her hips dipping down in some instinctual attempt at getting him to slip inside.

“God, you are needy.” He removed his hands again and laughed when she huffed again. Both hands moved to her knees and pushed them to be bent and then apart, moving his body between them. His hands then went to her breasts, squeezing them and pinching tenderly at her nipples. Her hips bucked again and Josh kissed her again. “It’s gonna feel so good when I finally touch you where you want,” He offered, kissing her sweetly.

Pulling away he began to suck on her chest, continuing his monologue. “You were holding this perfect tit in one hand and rubbing your wet pussy with the other, right?”

She nodded when he looked to her for a response.

“I left when I saw you drop to your knees like some cock hungry whore…” Coming from someone else it would’ve sounded cruel, but from Josh’s lips it was the softest sweetest accusation in the world. His voice was honey and it only made her want him more. Maybe she was a cock hungry whore, for Josh.

Josh’s right hand returns to her pussy, cupping it like before and she’s sure she’s about to leak onto his palm.

“You’re leaking, princess,” Josh informs her, confirming her suspicion. “Do you like me talking mean to you? Why’d you drop to your knees in my bathroom, August? C’mon you can tell me.”

“I,” She starts. Josh chooses then to slip the tip of his finger inside of her.

“Yes?”

“I was about to c-cum and you have that, fucking, detachable showerhead…”

Josh thrust his finger fully inside her and she moaned, relieved but not much better. Now she felt herself quickly working up to another orgasm. He thrust his finger carefully, thinking over his response while trying to hold himself together now that he’d felt how warm and tight she was inside.

“Used my showerhead to get off in my shower. Touching these pretty tits, riding your own hand and now you’re laid out all perfect for me.” He added a finger and her hips began to move with his movements. “You are a little slut, aren’t you?”

She hums in agreement, one hand hanging onto Josh’s neck and another gripping her tit like her life depended on it.

“And you’re gonna cum again already? Fuck,” Josh sounded amazed. In awe of how sexy Y/N was, how willing and lovely she was, how she was perfect for him. “Go on.”

She came immediately, having held off for so long, trying to hold it for Josh despite how much he’d teased her.

After she rode it out, Josh removed his fingers and gave them a lick. Humming his satisfaction. She breathed heavily watching him, but wanting more. Seeing from the bulge in Josh’s sweatpants she knew he wanted more as well.

“Fuck me, Josh.” She sat up on her elbows beckoning him closer.

“Did you forget who’s in charge?” He laughed, but it was soft. They were still themselves.

She widened her legs and pouted, dropping her hand to her pussy, carefully circling her puffy clit.

“Need it, Josh.” She rocked her hips. “I think you need it too.” She hummed, looking pointedly at his straining cock.

Josh shook his head and crawled over her again, pushing her hand away from her clit. She took up the job of pushing down his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously.

“Next time, I wanna see you dropping to your knees like the cockslut we now know you are.” Josh breaths, losing track of his train of thought with the feel of her soft hand gripping the base of him gently.

“Next time could be later tonight…” She whispered back, connecting their lips again. “Or tomorrow.”

Josh groans, at her words and the feeling of her slipping the head of his cock through her slick. He resisted pressing in immediately, feeling her rubbing it back and forth from her entrance to her needy clit. He bit her lip and she moaned.

“I would’ve fucked you months ago if I knew that getting you wet was all it took to make you all sweet and nice.” He grunted.

His hips thrusting on their own accord caused his head to slip against her clit in a way that made her moan loudly. She tightened her grip on his cock and Josh’s hips moved back.

“I wouldn’t be rude to the girl who’s about to let you hit, lover.”

She nudged Josh’s head into her entrance and they sighed in tandem. Her hands went up to his shoulders from under his arms. Josh dropped his face into her neck, overwhelmed by the warmth and softness. They began moving at a steady clip. Her legs wrapped around Josh until he started thrusting harder and faster.

“Fuck,” she whined. “That feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Josh had begun to sweat. He shifted one of her legs to balance one of his hands and then moved his other to the headboard and she moaned loudly adoring the stretch.

“‘M close,” He strained. His eyes were constantly shifting between her bouncing tits, his cock disappearing in her and her face and the expressions she was making. “You’re so wet.”

“Cum,” she breathed. Her fingers slipped down to her clit again, rubbing furiously.

Her walls tightened at the added stimulation and Josh was cumming. Hot and sticky inside her. He panted hard, collapsing on her with a wet kiss against her mouth. His cock had made even more of a mess of her, leaking out of her full, throbbing cunt.

Josh watched it. Entranced as he pulled out once more and twitched when Y/N moaned at the sensation, her eyes shut in pleasure.

“I’ll clean you up,” Josh nodded to himself before disappearing.

Less than 10 minutes later, the pair were cleaned up and wrapped up with water in Josh’s bed. Side by side.

They saw each other in class on Monday and Wednesday after their shoot and impromptu sleepover on Saturday that had run into Sunday, but they acted like nothing had happened. Or like it was completely normal. Which they both liked. They had been cordial upon waking up wrapped around each other on Sunday morning, but Y/N had made a quick exit, citing a myriad of reasons why she needed to go home now that the storm had passed. She even declined coffee.

It was Thursday, at Lover’s Inn, when the events of Saturday night became hard to ignore.

Josh didn’t show up first which she was grateful for. Jake sauntered in with his guitar case, his small but impressive pedal board and a few wrapped up cords over his shoulder. She smiled and they exchanged pleasantries as she shuffled around their table. Everything was ready, but she couldn’t stop herself from reorganizing things.

“Do you need a beer?” Jake asks after a tense 10 minutes of silence.

She laughs and flips around from the table, slumping against it. “Honestly, yeah.”

Jake lifts his mouth into a half-smile, nodding to the table. “You can have one of mine and I’ll steal one of my brothers.”

“How chivalrous,” She smiles, disarmed by Jake’s nature. She grabs two beers and the bottle opener from the table before crossing to him and handing over one beer to him, followed by the opener.

They click the necks together and take an appreciative sip.

“What’s got you flustered?” Jake asks.

“I don’t know,” She sighs, rubbing at her forehead, knowing exactly why.

Sam, Danny and Josh file through the side door while Y/N attempts to come up with a reason for her to be stressed. Jake watches her carefully, but her eyes immediately shoot to the sound of the door opening and their voices.

Josh scans the scene of Jake and Y/N on the two couches, sipping on beers, alone. His nose flares momentarily before setting down his piece of the drum kit and saunters to the couch, sitting beside Jake.

“Your turn,” Josh says, nodding to the door so that Jake will go help with the rest of their stuff.

Jake rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his beer before huffily standing up and walking outside. Josh eyes Y/N sitting silently across from him and takes a swif from his brother’s beer.

“I’m assuming he offered his share and then is planning to drink an extra of one of ours.”

She chuckles nervously, eyes shifting away from Josh and around the room. “You guys know each other well.”

“Brothers. Twins.” He shrugs, still watching her intently.

She discards her half-empty beer and stands, bee-lining for her bag. “I’ve got new stuff for you guys.”

Josh rolls his eyes, but feels a little bug of worry squirming in. The insecurity he had felt on Sunday had vanished with how normal they had been in class, but this made him feel like something was certainly off.

“Here,” She places the vest and medallion necklace she’d found for Josh beside his head on the back of the couch. “And here’s this for you, Danny.” She turned from Josh before he could even thank her, handing Danny a tank style shirt she thought he’d like. Sam received a flowy floral button down while Jake got a fringe leather jacket that she had been searching for all semester for him.

Jake beamed, his eyes shiny and his smile taking over his entire face. She smiled back at him, trying to fully feel the gratitude he was giving her. She watched as he tried it on and spread his arms in the mirror, admiring the movement.

“This is going to be so fuckin’ sick,” He laughed, slightly in disbelief, touching over the jacket constantly. “I can’t thank you enough, Y/N.”

She blushed a bit, feeling everyone’s eyes on her, especially Josh’s from his place on the couch. He was holding his vest in his lap, sullen that he had never thanked her so profusely for the things she found him.

“It’s my dream job–and if you guys ever get famous, I’ll make you real stage outfits. However you want.” Jake’s giddy energy was overpowering her nerves. It felt great.

The green room was a fun atmosphere for the rest of the hour leading up to their set. Josh pushed himself out of his pining and focused on the revelry. But before the band was about to go on, Josh hung back, leaving him alone with Y/N.

She saw him stall at the door, his hand catching the frame. His vest was tan suede tonight, with silver pieces swirling into pockets on the front and creating a pattern across his back. He turned around and she paused, once more at the table, beginning to clean up wrappers.

“I wanted to say thank you for all the vests and stuff you’ve found me this semester, August.”

She watched Josh cross the room to her. “It’s nothing. Like I said, dream job.”

Josh pressed closer and threaded his hand through her hair. His breath was warm against her skin. She finally met his eyes.

“I miss you.”

“You’ve seen me all week.”

Josh’s forehead drops against hers, his free hand coming to her waist. It’s hot and firm and she feels the breath leave her lungs. Her body presses closer to him.

“Not what I meant.”

“Josh…” She wants to kiss him so bad. Wants him to kiss her. Her hands are grasping at his forearms in a way she hopes isn’t too desparate. “You’ve got a show to play.”

His hand moves slowly from her waist across her stomach to the center of her jean skirt. His fingers fiddle with the button, slipping them below the waistband, feeling more fabric.

“It’s a shame.” His breathing was heavy. His nose kept nudging hers.

She licked her lips and swallowed.

“Really wish you weren’t wearing tights,” He murmurs before pressing a hot kiss to her lips.

Before she can really feel him against her, he’s pulling away and snapping the black lycra that he had wiggled his finger into against her skin. A sharp gasp sounds and he’s walking out the door to the stage, looking far too much like a rockstar than she’d like. After a few moments of attempting to collect herself, she leaves the trash to be dealt with later and follows Josh to see the start of the show.

This show was electric. Everyone was playing their best. Jake was rocking with his guitar so much that the fringe flew around, making the crowd of college-aged women the band had amassed go wild. Josh was strutting around the stage, raising his arms as he hit notes and dancing with Jake every so often.

Jake tried to convince the manager to let Sam and Danny into the front of house. ‘It’s not like they don’t have IDs that say they’re old enough,’ he reasoned conspiratorially. He was over the moon and he wanted everyone to celebrate since winter break was coming up and their show would be taking a rest for a while. Her manager relented, but Josh almost crushed his twin’s soul when he said he needed to go home to work on editing.

Sam and Danny’s exuberance at being able to drink at the bar overpowered Jake’s protestations to Josh, leaving Y/N and Josh alone in the green room once more. He smirked with great satisfaction as he shrugged the vest from his shoulders and began to pull his t-shirt back over his head.

“Where were we?” He saunters back over and she’s happy to see regular Josh instead of the rockstar Josh who had ambushed her earlier.

Yet, she remembered him. And she remembered his performance tonight. How low his pants were slung around his hips. A pair of tight black vinyl pants she had found him about a month ago. His happy trail had meandered down to disappear beneath the fabric she had chosen for him. Now, he was straining against those pants and she shut her eyes, coming to terms with what she was about to do.

“It’s your turn, Josh.” She meets him in the middle of the room, backing him up against the arm of the bigger leather couch. She caged him in for a moment, looking him up and down. Josh’s eyes were wide in surprise. “Sit on the couch.”

He is a bit confused, but doesn’t argue, shuffling to sit down as quickly as possible.

“Eager, huh?”

“Now who’s being mean?”

She grins and walks to stand in front of Josh, dropping to her knees with quiet ease and practice. Josh immediately throws his head back, sinking lower into the chair.

“Oh my god.”

“Didn’t want to leave you hanging,” She smiled. Running her hands over the tops of Josh’s vinyl clad thighs. “I could see it while you were on stage. At least,” She paused to chuckle. “More than usual.”

Josh sighed, eyes fluttering open to stare at her between his legs again. She was so beautiful even when she smiled at him so wickedly.

“Want your cock in my mouth, Josh?”

“Fuck, Y/N,” Josh couldn’t take the teasing of her hands and her words.

“Just say ‘please’.” She stared at Josh seriously. Her hands toying with the button and zipper of his pants now, brushing just over his hardening length.

“Please, please, fucking please.” He rushed out.

She laughed and shook her head. “God, fine. Relax.”

Her hands expertly unhooked the button and slid the zipper down with practiced hands of a costumer. This was far more explicit than any of the other times she had undressed someone. Josh’s cock was hot and heavy in her hand and her core ached at the memory of where it had been almost a week ago. She ran her tongue against it and Josh groaned.

She lavished his head with a few kisses and looked up at Josh, beginning to suck on the side of it. “So pretty,” She murmurs.

Josh’s hips bucked in response, his hand going to rest in her hair, but careful not to guide her. He wanted to see what she did. She gathered a pool of spit to let fall onto his thick cock before languidly running her hand over the length, hoping to tease him a little more. She hadn’t forgotten the treatment he gave her on Saturday. Josh’s hips bucked again and he groaned her name.

Taking his head fully in between her lips, she took pity on him. Beginning her descent, she attempted to get him all in her throat but had about a handful left when he hit the back of her throat. She hummed around him and he jerked in her throat, causing her to fall back. She massaged her lips around the place where his head met the shaft before trying again. One hand on his thigh and one beneath his shirt, she bobbed her head slowly, suctioning occasionally until Josh was hissing about being close again.

She pulled off him and smiled at him from her position. Her lips were wet with saliva and precum. Josh’s eyes were half closed in pleasure but he couldn’t believe the look on her face. Breathing heavy, flushed from taking him down her throat. Her hand moved along his length faster.

“Tell me when,” She murmured, eyes moving from Josh’s face to her movements around him.

Josh nodded, trying to stay still. Overwhelmed. “Now.”

Her lips reattached to his head, sucking a little harder, while her hand still worked near the base. Josh’s hips bucked in time with the spurts that hit the back of her throat and she clenched around nothing, wishing more than anything that she was brave enough to attempt penetrative sex in public.

She pulled off and swallowed, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth with a tired sigh. Josh’s satisfied smile watched her in awe, tucking himself away after a few moments of heavy panting.

“Jesus Christ,” Josh breathed, petting at her hair before bringing her to kiss his lips. “Thank you. Wow. Just… so talented.”

“Josh Kiszka not having the right words,” She smiled against his lips. She pulled away and ruffled his hair. “I must be good.”

Josh sputtered, jumping to his feet and following her to the side of the door where she was grabbing her coat and extra stuff.

“Do you need a ride home again?”

Josh scratched at the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess. Can’t really go out there and tell ‘em I need their keys when I was supposed to have left 20 minutes ago. Plus they’re probably expecting me to come pick them up eventually so I need my car for that.”

“Josh,” She stopped his rambling. Her hand pressed flat against his upper chest, bringing his eyes to hers. “Relax. My jaw’s too tired to give you another stress relieving head session.”

Josh shut up and nodded. She smiled, pleased with herself. They grabbed their stuff and headed for her Volvo after she locked the green room door.

“Driving you home like you’re my little bitch,” She stated half-way through the drive she now knew without directions.

“Shut up.” Josh sounded annoyed but really he was smiling, staring out at the passing streets.

When they pull up to his house, Josh pauses. “Do you wanna come in?”

“Can’t tonight. See you soon though.”

She kisses his lips tenderly, cupping his strong jaw in a way neither of them had ever expected.

Mid December and the semester was over. Their short film was a success. It was the last Thursday Greta Van Fleet would be performing at Lover’s Inn until the new year. Josh and Y/N hadn’t had time to talk about them with the rush of finals and getting the film in in time for screening. There had been stolen kisses during late final cut editing nights and in the empty hallways of the film building, but nothing else.

Josh had arrived with Y/N, helping her set up so that she could be done early and they could have alone time before the rest of the band started to arrive. They were so excited to be done with everything, so pleased with themselves, that they were hurriedly making out against the snack table, unable to keep their hands off of one another a moment longer.

So wrapped up in one another, exchanging words of teasing and searing lips against soft skin, they don’t hear Danny and Jake walking in.

With Y/N pressed against the table, Jake and Danny get an eyeful of her hands on Josh, one on his waist pulling him closer and the other grabbing at his right jean-clad ass cheek.

Danny whistling loudly and Jake clapping his hands together leisurely cause them to spring apart. Josh spins around, flushed and out of breath while Y/N adjusts the top of her shirt that Josh had pushed to the side for more access to her skin.

“About time,” Jake says with a happy smile, stalking to place down his guitar case.

Danny laughs and Sam walks in shortly behind them, silent for a moment, appraising the situation before understanding and exclaiming: “To the happy couple!”

Josh groans at his brothers’ smug looks before smiling. She laughs, hiding her head behind Josh’s shoulder in mild embarrassment. Everyone cheers and it feels silly that they ever detested being in the same room as one another.

During their final performance, Josh waxes eloquent about his wondrous time he’s spent on this very stage. He thanks everyone and then pauses, searching the audience for Y/N.

“Now this next one goes out to my lover,” He says as he winks. “You know who you are!”

The crowd goes wild and a softer than usual guitar riff comes in from Jake’s playing.

“August, honey / Tasted sweeter with you / Sticky fingers / From your own residue,” He sang.

Jake got to kick up the guitar. The three guys even sang the little backing ‘ooh’s into their mics that were rarely used.

“We don’t talk about it / We don’t have the time / We thought love was something / We weren’t meant to find.”

Josh’s voice is a perfect fit for the cover, she thinks it sounds even better than the original.

“But don’t you remember / August, honey, you were mine!”

It hurts her heart to realize why her name was ‘August’ in Josh’s phone and not for the asshole-ish reason he had originally told her. Sure, they’d met in August three years ago, that was still true, but she’d also mentioned this song to him. When they’d first been paired up freshman year, he had asked her what the song was that was paused on her phone when he handed it back after typing in his number. Always being scatterbrained, especially at 18, he must have written it over her name…And it was ‘August’.

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x y/n #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fan fiction #josh kiszka fan fic #greta van fleet fan fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van smut #greta van fic #august honey you were mine

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koy0uu · 2 years ago

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Lay all your love on me

Summary: Leona gets a little jealous when you give a certain dragon fae your attention in class…

Ship: Leona Kingscholar X gn!reader

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Warnings: fairly light swearing, slightly suggestive [???]

Author’s Note: RafScrap’s cover of “Lay all your love on me” and a random thought of Leona got me writing this… other than protective Leona my mind is filled with scratching behind his ears. Send help

Word Count: 315

Emerald orbs flashed to meet your own from across the classroom, a gaze within them that had chills run down your spine. His glare was making you shiver, but what else to expect; the 2nd prince of Sunset Savanna was meant to be respected. Although, as his significant other, you weren’t quite used to this icy gaze from the Savannaclaw prefect. Even as you averted your eyes and looked back to Trein, who was currently explaining the topic at hand, Leona Kingscholar’s eyes never left you. You, the most beautiful person in all of Twisted Wonderland, next to that damn lizard. And you were smiling at him, too. “Stupid herbivore…”, Leona grumbled as his predatory gaze never left your form. “Oh? Is our spoiled prince jealous of an even more spoiled prince?”, Ruggie teased, causing the former to rub his temples in annoyance. “Shut your trap, Ruggie, or else”, the slight growl leaving with those words from his prefect had the hyena’s ears flatten and sweat breaking in seconds. “Sorry, sorry. But I’m not wrong, am I?”, his apology was less than halfhearted, but the concern in his eyes spoke for itself. Leona was never jealous - at least not about someone. If he was jealous of something then it was usually something like victory in the Spelldrive Tournament, or something associated with power. But to see him actually jealous about someone was a first. Sure, he was jealous of Malleus for being good at Spelldrive, but certainly not because he was sitting next to you and having the both of you chuckle, even getting Trein to tell you to shut it. No, that was in fact a first. The lion’s eyes narrowed. He’d have to teach you a lesson of his own after this.

‘Herbivore, what do you think you’re doing? Sharing your devotion, especially with that damn lizard. Lay all your love on me….’

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it ^^

All credit belongs to @koy0uu on tumblr. Please do not steal my work. Reblogs are really appreciated though!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twst malleus #jealousy #imagine #i think that’s all the tags

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exhaustedandlostit · 2 years ago

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Not A Bad Way To Go | John Price x Reader

You met Price by accident, but you think it’s your favorite accident.

Word Count: 1.1k

Tags: Price/Reader, no gender mentioned, first meeting, mildly suggestive towards the end, no use of y/n.

Rating: Mature(Suggestive Content at end) 18+ mdni please

Warnings: None, just fluffy fluff, Not edited or beta’d.

First fic I’ve written on this account, and in a very long time. Hope you guys enjoy. Reblogs and comments are welcomed and appreciated.

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You aren’t quite sure what got you here. Your brain is fuzzy, dizziness setting in from the failed huff you took when Price settled his cigar between your lips. He’d chuckled to himself a bit when you grimaced.

“Not supposed to inhale, love,” He’d said, chest rumbling with his light laughter. You’d shot him a stare laced with irritation.

“Too used to cigarettes, I guess,” You retort. He doesn’t chuckle this time, just gives you a warm smile that reaches his eyes. You can feel the warmth of his smile in your chest, and you muse to yourself about how fucked you truly are.

You’d met Captain John Price by accident. You were back on base, again, much to your dismay. You left the service months ago, no longer holding the desire to torture yourself further. Your brother, who’d convinced you to join in the first place, was both dismayed and grateful for your departure. Once you’d left the unit you two shared, he was selected to join a task force.

“Task Force 141, its intense as hell,” his voice crackled through the phone the day he got the assignment. You shook your head, provided some dry retort your brother was inevitably expecting. Much the same way you were expecting the call you received a week later.

“We need help.” You knew what that sentence meant, especially with the rare serious tone your brother’s voice had taken. Tech help, clean job, in and out. That’s what they always say, and yet its never what it ends up being. You’d (unfortunately) made a name for yourself while you were still in for being computer savvy. Guess all those coding classes you took for extra credit in highschool paid off somehow. You grasped technology easily. Your brother is happy you love him, because you’re on a plane within hours.

You weren’t supposed to come in contact with the team period. You were to meet with a woman named Kate Laswell, who would provide you with a laptop and the information you needed. However, the room the soldier who’d met you at the airport brought you to had not a woman in it, but a man.

Weird. That was your first thought. Weird hat, weird facial hair. However, you weren’t one to judge someone purely on their appearance. The man looked up from the document covered table as the door opened. His eyes found yours quickly, and the minute they did you knew you were fucked. His eyes pierced yours, examining everything about you in a second. You could tell by his stature and tac gear he was most definitely a soldier, and also not the woman you were supposed to be meeting.

“You don’t look like a Kate,” you stated, very matter of factly, and the sentence drew a chuckle from him. That may have been the first time you brought that from him, but you knew then it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You enjoyed it far too much.

“That’ll be ‘cause I’m not.” His accent was soothing. Another checked box on the list of things that make you absolutely addicted to this man, and it had only been about 45 seconds.

Kate being unavailable was your first indicator that the mission was absolutely not going as planned, but you weren’t too disappointed by that. After all, spending an afternoon showing off your expertise in front of a man who you were absolutely trying to impress was not a bad alternative. However, you did not get to go home after as planned. That night, your brother had shown to greet you, apologize that in a matter of hours shit had gone sideways, but that was not the most interesting part of that encounter.

The most interesting part was that when your brother entered the room he said your name, and then turned to the man and said “Captain.” to acknowledge him.

Fuck.

The knowledge that the man you had spent your afternoon swooning and even lightly flirting with(much to his enjoyment) was in fact your brother’s captain definitely threw a wrench in your day. Not as big a wrench as it threw in your brother’s though, who had inevitably sensed the not uncomfortable tension between you and Price about 30 seconds after entering the room. You sat in the smoke pit nursing glasses of shitty whiskey, burning through cigarettes, while getting an earful about being a slut from your brother. It was all in joke of course, but you could tell he was definitely irritated.

“I leave you alone with him for 4 hours and you’ve already got heart eyes for him.” He took a long drag of his cigarette with a hefty sigh.

“Not my fault your captain is hot.”

“Not my fault you’ve got hella daddy issues.”

“So do you, asshole.”

“Touché.”

Months later, here you were. Hired on as a contracted tech intel agent, you now spent your days living on base, digging around through documents and CCTV, scouting everywhere your team went, noting threats and holes before they even got there. You’d become invaluable, but that wasn’t what kept you there. He was. Captain John Price.

Every long day spent inside of the military bases you’d tried so hard to escape were made worth it by returning to not your room at night, but John’s. That’s where you are right now, settled into his lap in his bed, his cigar in his left hand, his right tangled in your hair while he damn near killed you with a kiss.

When he finally did let you breathe, he had a smirk plastered on his face while your hands rested on his chest, panting for the air you’d been lacking. You looked at him in the pale light from the lamp, and raised one of your hands to brush over his head and through his hat-flattened hair. Your hand came to a stop on the back of his head, and you looked into his eyes again, this time expecting the way they reached inside of you to your normally walled off soul, now bared, but only to him.

“You’re going to kill me like that one day,” You say, without a hint of a negative emotion in your voice. The chuckle you love rumbles from his chest again. He puts out his cigar in the ashtray on the nightstand, and grips your hips. In a second, you’re below him on the bed, and you can feel his body pressing into yours as his face dangles so close but not close enough to reach from your pinned state.

“Not a bad way to go,” he muses as one of his hands moves to rest on your face, encasing your cheek as he finally gets close enough.

“No, I guess it isn’t,” are the last words you say that night, save John’s name.

#john price #john price x reader #john price x nb reader #no use of y/n #fluffy fluff #cod #mw2 #Reader has daddy issues but don’t we all

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mercifullymad · 2 years ago

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Hi there! I was wondering if you had any recommendations for beginner readings about Sanism, anti psychiatry, etc? I've only recently been introduced to these ideas, but they really resonate with me and I'd love to learn more.

Hello, thank you for asking! I'm more than happy to share a list of readings I've found useful and/or important, and glad that you're interested in learning more!

Before I get into the list, one note: I identify as a mad liberationist, rooted in the principles of the Mad Pride movement and the academic (in)discipline of Mad Studies. So I don't have any recommendations that come from a strict anti-psychiatry stance, as I don’t root myself in the anti-psychiatry moment and I simply haven't read much in that tradition. Instead, my readings are mostly rooted in Mad Studies, Mad Pride, the psychiatric survivor/consumer/(ex-)patient movement, Critical Disability Studies, Disability Justice, and Crip Studies.

Without further ado, here are my recommendations (I encourage anyone else to add on in the comments/reblogs—I certainly have not read everything)!

Articles:

Mad Studies – What It Is and Why You Should Care:

“Mad Studies is an area of education, scholarship, and analysis about the experiences, history, culture, political organising, narratives, writings and most importantly, the PEOPLE who identify as: Mad; psychiatric survivors; consumers; service users; mentally ill; patients, neuro-diverse; inmates; disabled -to name a few of the “identity labels” our community may choose to use.”

Mad Studies Network – Shared Principles: From the same website as the above article. The website has many great articles and reading recommendations even though it hasn’t been updated for a couple years.

“We aim to work towards making and preserving space for mad people’s knowledges and histories within the academy and within [mental health] services.”

Mad and Queer Studies: Interconnections and Tensions:

“Mad and Queer Studies have lot of common ground – especially in terms of challenging existing binaries (for example, gay/straight and mad/sane); subverting negative connotations of Queer/Mad; and critiquing prevailing normativities (ways of being ‘normal’).”

A Psychiatric Survivor Studies Manifesto: A critique of Mad Studies and identifying as mad, instead suggesting identification as a psychiatric survivor and psychiatric survivor studies. A good read, especially as someone new to this area exploring your options for self-identification!

“Psychiatric survivors are those who have sought help and have not found it, psychiatric survivors have varying levels of belief in a separation of mind and body. Psychiatric survivors are not reducible to a single category but instead are a force to be reckoned with who have (often dysfunctionally) shut down major oppressive institutions and forced change within medicine multiple times over.”

Against Self Advocacy Part 2: Maddening Autistic Self-Advocacy: From the same writer as the above article.

“Like it or not, mad and anti-psychiatry politics do inform and are part of the history of Autistic politics.”

“The Autistic meltdown, when our bodies rebel because of sensory overload, the issues related to social impairment---many of these things have more similarity with mad politics … But those similarities have intentionally been quieted so as not to make Autistic bodies seem rebellious.”

Mad People Of Colour: A Manifesto:

“We cannot separate our experiences of racialization, madness, and other oppressions. … White people’s experiences of psychiatry are not ‘like colonialism’. Colonialism is like colonialism… Ask yourself whether your goal as a mad activist is to regain the white middle-class privilege you lost when you were psychiatrized.”

Trans Activists, Don’t Throw Mad People Under the Bus!: Article on the shared history and aims of trans and mad people.

“We know that the various psychiatric diagnoses for trans people have not been based in sensitive listening or in any kind of scientific knowledge of etiology, that on the contrary they have been nothing but arbitrary and punitive vehicles for imposing normative expectations of how a person ought to be. We know that psychiatrists and psychologists don’t listen to us, or our communities, don’t know about us, or our communities, and don’t help us, or our communities. Why would we assume things are any different for all the other kinds of people psychiatrists assert dominion over?”

The Buzzfeedification of Mental Health: This article is far from perfect in its analysis, but I think it’s still worth reading for its observations about how the internet structurally reinforces stringent diagnostic categories.

“The danger lies in how we enforce and contextualize these [diagnostic] categories. ... If we cannot commune with each other, relate to each other, love each other, argue with each other, without feeling that we are irreconcilably different because of something endemic to our psyches (you have ADHD, I have BPD, we are not the same), we lessen the chance that we will be able to build actual solidarity, and fight against the structures that cause us all to feel so mentally ill.”

An Introduction to Anti-Black Sanism: Unlike the other articles, this one is an academic article, but it’s too important to leave out.

“The historical and ongoing set of aggressions visited on Black/African people in the Global North is both anti-Black racism and a specific kind of sanism, and we have named this suffering, this particularly perilous mix of oppressions, anti-Black Sanism.”

“Anti-Black Sanism provides a framework that names the injustice, the pain, and seeks to address the historic discrimination, continued overrepresentation of Black/African-identified individuals in the mental health system… Anti-Black Sanism also allows us to join with others in de-centering whiteness in mental health as well as in the ex-patient, survivor, disability, and mad movements.”

The Next Generation of the Mad Movement in New York City Looks Like This:

“Peter Stastny finishes the first panel. As the elder of the group, he’s the self-chosen, pragmatic voice of “What works and what doesn’t work”, having been around and active since the 1980s and watched so many progressive mental health projects become defunded or co-opted or simply slip into obscurity. It’s obvious he wants this project to have a different fate.”

Help-Seeking: Where’s the Help? (tw self-harm and suicide)

“In the context of mental health, particularly intense mental distress associated with self-harm and suicide, asking for help might not only result in the absence of care, it might result in punishment and harm. … Emphasis on seeking [help] ignores not only the availability of help but crucially, the deep pain and frustration of calling for help and having nobody come.”

Un-care-able (tw self-harm and suicide)

“Stigma’ is too general, too mild a word for what is happening here. This is rejection, it is a casting out, it is the designation of ‘un-care-able’. In a sleight of hand so swift as to be both bewildering and dazzling, the more a person who self-harms needs care, the more they prove themselves to be both undeserving of it and unfit for it. Here pain is not evidence of need, and thus a prompt for care – instead, it is the signal for abandonment.”

Toward a Neuroqueer Future: An Interview with Nick Walker: Focused on neurodivergence, but a very good and important read for anyone interested in learning more about non-normative bodyminds.

“A lot of people hear neuro and they think, brain. But the prefix neuro doesn’t mean brain, it means nerve. The neuro in neurodiversity is most usefully understood as a convenient shorthand for the functionality of the whole bodymind and the way the nervous system weaves together cognition and embodiment. So neurodiversity refers to the diversity among minds, or among bodyminds.

In terms of discourse, research, and policy, the pathology paradigm asks, ‘‘What do we do about the problem of these people not being normal,’’ whereas the neurodiversity paradigm asks, ‘‘What do we do about the problem of these people being oppressed, marginalized, and/or poorly served and poorly accommodated by the prevailing culture?’’”

Books:

Unfortunately, I don't have many beginner book recommendations, although this depends on how you’re defining "beginner." If you're new to Mad Studies but not new to reading dense texts about Literary Studies, then La Marr Jurelle Bruce's "How to Go Mad Without Losing Your Mind" or Therí Pickens' "Black Madness :: Mad Blackness" would be great beginner texts. If you’re well-versed in the study of rhetoric, then other academic books like Margaret Price’s “Mad At School” and M. Remi Yergeau’s “Authoring Autism” can also serve as introductions. But if "beginner" means written for the general public as opposed to an academic audience, then these are the only recs I've got:

Robert McRuer's "Mad in America”: A history of psychiatry care and the psychiatry industry in the U.S. written for a general audience. Great for contextualizing and historicizing the development of U.S. psychiatry.

Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha’s “Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice”: This book does a great job explicitly connecting the Mad Pride and psychiatric survivor movement to broader disability organizing and issues. It is a great recounting of organizing efforts from both Disability Justice and the psychiatric survivor moment, grounded in Piepzna-Samarasinha’s long involvement in both.

Eli Clare’s “Brilliant Imperfection”: An extremely insightful overview of and meditation on the politics of “cure” for physically disabled, chronically ill, and mad people. Also some of my favorite writing on the utilities and harms of diagnosis.

[Textbooks] “Mad Matters” and “The Routledge International Handbook of Mad Studies”: It can be hard to get copies of these books without academic access (or spending a lot of money), but if you can somehow get them, they contain a lot of useful information and history.

[Can’t personally vouch for] James Davies’ “Sedated: How Modern Capitalism Created our Mental Health Crisis” and “Cracked: Why Psychiatry is Doing More Harm than Good”: I have not read either of these books, but they are written for a general audience, so probably very explanatory/introductory in their explanation, which might be good if you are coming to this with no prior knowledge. Jamies Davies is probably the most anti-psychiatry-aligned author on this list, too, if you’re specifically looking for writing rooted in that stance. The books seem to be focused critiques of the contemporary psychiatric industry (rather than focusing on the experiences/organizing/culture of mad people, as most of my other recs do).

Finally, I would also suggest checking out collectives/orgs like Project LETS (lots of great posts on their instagram about sanism and mad pride), the Institute for the Development of the Human Arts (IDHA), Recovery in the Bin, the #StopSIM collective, and country or region-specific Mad Pride groups, Hearing Voices groups, and Alternatives to Suicide Groups. So much of this knowledge is created and spread through social networks and transient social media posts rather than in articles and books.

#hope this helps & that something in this list resonates with u!#mad studies #mad pride #psychiatric survivor #disability studies #neurodivergence #disability justice #my readings

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kirby-the-gorb · 9 months ago

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reply roundup!

I've done basically nothing but lay down and be exhausted since kirb2k over 2 months ago, but I did at least get the kirbox orders fulfilled. I have an immunology appointment in another 2 1/2 months and maybe they might do something to help me feel better. (it's a bad time. I know it seems to be most of what I talk about, but it is kind of all-consuming. even this roundup wore me out.)

also there are sometimes comments that make me smile but I don't have anything to add to them so I just read them and smile and don't put them in the roundups, but I promise I do see them all, like the many yeehaws (and yes haws and heehaws) for [cowboy kirb] <3

on [the last roundup] @hive-heart said: Hope things get better, kirby guy 💕 thanks for the reply :) also yeah! Sitting by the window during a storm is quite nice

they haven't lol, but thank you!

on [kirb2k] @ceylonsilvergirl said: HAPPY Y2K EVERYBODY!! I am joke, but it did give me serious “turn of the century’’ vibes. oof… that sentence hit me like I drank out of the wrong grail

that was intentional, that's also why we started with the macarena in the 1990s :>

on [errands] @crypptiid said: ME! MY ROLLATOR IS BLUE AND EVERUTHING @sunflowerinthemidst said: oh look it's me only my walker is hot pink 1😅😂

nice! I should really repaint mine if I'm ever feeling well enough lol

on [the last roundup] @gudetamalover said: :O!!! I’ve been noticed! My surgery went very well btw, thank you! [details removed for privacy.] I love your art so much btw, it brings me and my mom so much joy! I love this little pink dude, he’s got a permanent place in my heart ❤️

man that sounds rough, good thing it got ironed out quickly! and I'm glad it brings you both joy <3

on [errands] @pilcherthegreat said: oooo might add this one to my Kirby brigade tattoo 👀

oh hell yeah that sounds so cool! (for anyone else wondering, tattoos on your own body count as personal use and are totally fine by me!)

on [screaming] @persimmonlions said: i always forget how much i do not like the chaotic cacophony of a crowd until i am in a mall, like ‘oh yeah i DO get overstimulated no wonder i constantly skipped classes when i was 10’. anyway i got back home at 3 and proceeded to sleep for 6 hours

ugh omg yeah especially when you actually reblogged this 2 months ago and there were still holiday crowds and all the extra decor and stuff, the mall can be So Much.

on [macarena] @unconventionalvoidaxolotls said: holy heck, go kirby go! oh yeah this is a great first post. beautiful

ehehehe it's an honor :3

on [plushies] @the-void-is-a-disappointment said: finally getting around to reblogging this but thank you bunches for the commission!he looks so comfy and cozy i love it, he deserves this

he does! he does deserve to be so cozy and cute! (and thank you again for the support!)

on [bloodstream] @lord-chiopet said: Kirby in my blood could fix me

well he certainly wouldn't make me worse lol (fun fact: you kind of already have a bunch of kirb-likes in your blood! macrophages are a type of white blood cell that engulf and isolate or destroy foreign matter like splinters, viruses, and even tattoo ink! they're basically eating anything that tries to get into your blood that's not supposed to be there -u- )

on [fire] @jupiterlandings said: kirby I am hurrying to you with blankets and a tent and a warm meal, we may be in the wilderness kirby but we can still look at the stars even when the night is cold. and even if we can’t see them they’re still there and they’ll send the sun to look after us tomorrow. it’ll be ok kirby we’ll be ok

waah this is just such a sweet thought ;n; thank you for sharing it.

on [frown] @shapeshifterwithafez said: get well soon OP :c <3 this kirby nevertheless brings joy to my dashboard thank you!

I will not but thank you! I'm glad he brings joy regardless :)

on [worm] @thecosmickitty said: Hey fam just wanna say i love your art. Thank you for sharing (:

aww thanks!

on [mcas] @untoldsoup said: Im sorry about the health issues 😞 hope you get the treatment your looking for

I appreciate it <3 it's still gonna take a while one way or the other, but hopefully eventually someone will do something.

on [float (up)] @ceylonsilvergirl [added] a ufo to abduct him, then on [rainbow] they [added] an alien kirb to greet him, and on [freckles] they [added] the view out the ufo window :) this little saga was very cute and did cheer me up a bit, thank you <3

on [float (down)] @angst-and-fajitas said: Ah he's floatin away

the kirb's not made for helium balloons! (a reference to [this vine], and good news this upload is actually from the person that made it!)

on [sacrifice] @joekingv1 said: *sits next to baby and waits to see what happens*

I really wanna draw a short comic for this but it seems like I'm not gonna feel up to it anytime soon -n-

on [stars] @gidkog said: *GASP* at world’s ass…

oh no you're right :x that was not on purpose lol

on [earring] @roboticutie said: yay!!!! he's here again today :D thank you!!!

your enthusiasm is sweet! he will be here every day! :)

on [sora] @ducksandlemonsandbigoldfish said: Kiev Kernel Kirby I hate autocorrect

this made me laugh lol

on [sora] @canvascoloredin said: congratulations! I've played all the kingdom hearts games (except Melody of Memories, Sorry Kairi), and started when I was around six but haven't had the time to buy a console I can play 3 on. Have fun for me!

I haven't played melody of memories yet either, the rhythm for all the rhythm minigames was always so janky that I'm kind of worried about how it might play tbh. but I am having lots of fun, I'm sure it's enough for both of us!

on [tattoos] @theraphos said: high five kirby i just recently resolved to finally get myself a tattoo this year also

nice! I hope it goes well :)

@turpial-thoughts asked: hi

hello!

on [worry] @graycoin said: I hope the wait is worth it.

yeah me too :s (thanks. and for all your other sympathetic comments whenever I complain about it as well <3 )

on [float (side)] @joekingv1 said: *asks baby what they think about when they go floating*

probably very little I imagine. even less than usual lol

on [bread] @joekingv1 said: *asks baby what they got while secretly hiding some extra treats for baby, Bear and Cake*

this one is just very cute, I had to read it aloud to my partner when I saw it.

on [sea] @graycoin said: This gets across the vibe very well. I get why you'd feel that way, I think. It's understandable. I'm glad people are trying. You deserve it.

thanks. I've always had a hard time conveying like, internal stuff for some reason, so it's nice when it seems to make sense to someone else.

on [sea] @ceylonsilvergirl said: Kirbo is in the storm, tossed by the waves, threatened by lightning at any moment in the dark. not even the stars to shine through the clouds. but he’s still floating, and that has to count for something

surely it must count for something TnT <3

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 2 years ago

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I posted 11,793 times in 2022

1,107 posts created (9%)

10,686 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork

@maroonsunrise83

@musette22

@sagechanoafterdark

@autumnrose40

I tagged 4,262 of my posts in 2022

#amber recs - 1,412 posts

#comment reblog - 702 posts

#amber answers - 612 posts

#chris evans - 179 posts

#personal - 122 posts

#reblogging my own damn self - 99 posts

#amber writes - 97 posts

#sweater writes - 94 posts

#curtis everett - 74 posts

#artwork - 74 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#the way they made these husbands 100 percent support there family and extended family is the high standards in disney dads i now expect

My Top Posts in 2022:

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

Chapter One: Freightyard Education

Summary- 2.4k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. The first field trip of the year with your middle school class landed the bus in the Duluth's Freight Yard, intent on teaching the children about the city's vital industries. You were ready with the kids and your flashcards, what you weren't ready for was the large man with the icy blue eyes and quiet demeanor showing you around.

A/N- This became a personal passion project around January and I'm in love with this soft series where Curtis is given something good in a modern AU setting. You all have been so supportive of the snippets I have shared about these two, so thank you for that. It has certainly kept me wanting to write and excited to share Curtis and Honey. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics A HUGE thank you to @what-is-your-plan-today for betaing this project. Remember, likes are nice, shares and comments really keep creators going. 🍯🐝

Masterlist

“So you ready for the rugrats coming to visit the yard?” Edgar questioned the second Curtis stepped out of his truck in the train yards employee parking. Tugging his beanie on to combat the early September chill that signaled the beginning of fall, he arched a brow in question while he grunted.

To be fair, it was more of an answer than Edgar was expecting. The younger man was used to it, Curtis was a man of few words. It's what made his presence almost commanding. He only said something when he had something to say. “Gillian just filled me in,” Edgar explained as he looked at Curtis, who gave a small nod of understanding, “The mayor is funding an educational thing where we teach kids what jobs are available around here.”

“As long as they dont get in the way.” Curtis shrugged as he shed his extra jacket and tossed it in the truck's cab before closing his door and locking it. “This place is too dangerous for kids to be running around.”

Edgar started following him, hands in his pockets to warm them up as they both entered into a rundown building where the office was. Punching in his time card, Curtis stuffed his paperwork in an allotted slot, Edgar mimicking his actions. Across the room the office manager was on the phone, agitation coming through her tone.

“Well you sending that 10:30 train up that North track is not gonna do me any damn good when the buyer was expecting that shipment YESTERDAY.” The men paused at the desk, listening as Tanya unleashed a whole mess of words on the poor person on the other end before she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Okay, yes I will call them and fill them in. Just make sure it gets here, the last thing I need is to be made a liar.” She hit the end call and turned towards Curtis and Edgar, her anger diminishing and good nature returning like it was on the head of a pin. “I'm guessing you two are looking for this?” She held up a shipping manifest which Edgar snatched and scanned it. “Well that ain't too bad.” Curtis glanced down at the paperwork in Edgar’s hands as the young man examined it. Tanya continued on.

“Nope, why I think you and Grey can handle it, he's already down in the yard. Curtis, Gillian has something else for you. He’s in his office, just go on in Sweetheart.” Only Tanya was allowed to use terms of endearment on Curtis.

“Thanks Tanya.” He tipped his head in a nod and left, leaving Edgar leaning against the counter, making eyes at Tanya and whining out.

“Come on Tanya, why does Curtis get the good jobs? You don't love me?”

“Boy you got some growing to do before I be sweet on you, get your ass out of here.”

See the full post

385 notes - Posted April 1, 2022

Purr For Me

Summary- 1.8k Ransom x Kitten. Ransom comes home in a foul mood due to his family using Blood Like Wine resources for Joni's new venture, which also happens to ruin weekend plans he had with you. You though are all about cheering Ransom up.

Warnings- Oral (female receiving) Squirting, Use of pet name.

A/N- Written for @pagesoflauren I Love Y'all 3000 Challenge. I am EXTREMELY late, so thank you Lauren for being so understanding. Prompts will be italicized. Likes are appreciated, Reblogs and Comments are gold. Thank you for reading.

Masterlist

You had just kicked off your heels in your closet and headed right for the kitchen to pour yourself a rather large glass of red wine.

An extra large glass. Friday had not come soon enough and you were thoroughly ready for the weekend. Work had been endless meetings for an upcoming case. Johanna Klein had kept you at her side the entire time, taking notes and discussing in depth what she expected from the research team.

You deserved this glass. That first sip turned graced past your lips and you felt yourself starting to unwind. This weekend stretched ahead of you and Ransom had already promised you earlier this week that he was unplugging from Blood Like Wine as well, that perhaps you two would take a drive to Hampton, knowing that a weekend in your favorite hotel would benefit the both of you.

About to head into the living room to put your feet up, the front door slammed hard enough to make you jump. “What the-” You muttered, a bit shaken at the sudden intrusion of your post Friday wine. You set your glass down to go find what caused Ransom to shut the front door like he was trying to break it off the hinges when he stalked past the kitchen, his scarf rippling behind him till he reached up to rip it off, muttering the whole time to himself. His face was stuck in what seemed like a permanent scowl from what you saw.

“Ransom?” You called after him, peeking around the entrance to the kitchen to see the large oak doors half open in his study. “Babe?” You tried again as you approached the door. Pausing at them, you pushed against one to make it swing open, seeing your man behind his desk, searching in one of his drawers.

“Where the fuck did I put it? I know it’s in here somewhere.” He practically snarled out while you went to the liquor trolley you had set up across the room. Pouring a double shot of whiskey, you brought it over to his desk, twirling the glass gently in front of him to catch his attention which made his head shoot up and cold crystalline blues honing in on the aromatic liquor.

“You didn’t hide it, it’s on the liquor trolley Ran.” You reminded him as he took the glass and shot most of it back at once. Your brows arched in surprise when he didn't savor it. “So…” You moved around the desk, carefully moving his laptop to the side and perching on the edge in front of him. “What happened, Ransom?” You let a foot run up and inside of his calf and he simmered silently for a few more seconds. You were patient, you knew that he would eventually spill what was bothering him.

“Joni, that fucking hippie cunt roped Walt into her newest bullshit venture, so by extension me as well.” He finished his drink and set the glass aside. “Walt took some of Blood Like Wine profits and used them to invest in her newest bullshit line which now we have the books going into print for ‘The Cleanse Of The Goddess.’ What the fucking bullshit is she even on with this? Walt booked an interview that I need to attend to make sure it isn’t a complete shit show. He sprung it on me today that fucker.” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So we are not taking off this weekend?” You asked cautiously and he shook his head.

“Thanks to that prick, no.” He sighed, his hand dropping to grasp the back of your ankle and pull your foot in his lap, his hand massaging it gently. “How about you and some of your girlfriends go to the spa instead? Just not Joni's. I refuse to sink more money into that bitches bullshit. You girls can do the cucumbers on the eyes, mud smeared all over and compare whose man has the biggest dick.”

You snorted hearing him, busting into a laugh and shaking your head. “No need, I already won that conversation a long time ago, Ransom. I got all my girlfriends jealous.” You winked at him while hooking your foot in the arm of the office chair and pulling it closer to you. “And I’m fine with staying home this weekend Ransom. Saturday you do your thing with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum.” You gripped his chin and leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth. “And then Sunday we can do whatever you want, you know… stress reliever.” A slight nip to his bottom lip made him smirk as his hands slipped up the back of your calves to grasp the back of your knees and pull you to the edge of the desk, each one of your feet bracing on the arm of the office chairs arms.

“You must allow me to tell how ardently I admire and love you, Kitten.”

You let your legs part further, catching the interested gleam in his eyes. “Tell me more.”

“Trust me, I will. But why are we waiting till Sunday? I have all night with you before I have to leave.” He slid up your skirt up your lap, kissing against your knee. You let your hand fall to his perfectly coiffed hair and brushed your fingers through it to brush it back from his forehead, purring at him. More kisses along the inside of your thigh made you quiver with anticipation while his fingers rubbed at your cunt through your panties.

“Whatever was I thinking Ransom?” You lifted your hips to let him hook a finger into your panties and tug them down your legs while he sucked a kiss into your inner thigh. The harshness of it blossomed into arousal that made you whine sharply. Ransom promptly balled up your panties and stuffed them in his pants pocket.

“Save them for tomorrow, something to remind me what I’m coming home to.” Large hands slid up your thighs and pressed them wide open. You fell back to lean on your elbows while watching him between your thighs, he abandoned kissing your inner thighs and instead he spread you open. A drag of his thumb pad slid through you, making you bite your lip as he sucked on his finger pad. His tone dropped dangerously. “Already soaked, you're such a whore for this cock aren't you Kitten? Come on… purr for me.”

You felt another wave of arousal escape while nodding with encouragement, your toes curling in anticipation. Ransom could have dragged it out, making you wait. But you smelled so good, would taste even better and he just wanted to forget this clusterfuck of a day by making you cry out his name. He lapped at your cunt, digging his fingers into your thighs to keep you from closing around his head just yet. Your hand instinctively buried in his dark hair, rolling your hip upwards to meet him as he sucked on sensitive flesh and circled through your folds in just the way that would make you roll your eyes upwards for a moment at the sensation. “Fuck Ransom, fuck- I love your mouth so much.”

He would have responded, some snarky remark but he was busy lapping and sucking on your clit, teasing that little nerve to have your thighs pushing to enclose around his ears, bordering on almost too much even though you gushed again. Ransom easily spread your thighs once more with ease that made you whine in disbelief.

Ransom pulled back to watch you clench before he ran his tongue around your hole. “I love how fucking messy you get.” He spread your slick, making your folds glisten. Filling you with a finger, your velvet walls clamped around him, your hips rocking all on their own.

“Don’t stop-” He sucked on your clit again, making your legs shake while he fingered you open with the addition of another. Scissoring you open, he continued dragging you to the edge, now your hand shot to fist in his hair and you pressed his face into your cunt while you gyrated into his almost to perfect face.

It was mindless now, the way you chased after his tongue, the praises he continued muttering whenever he would lift his gaze through his lashes to see you start to fall apart. His chin came away smeared in you. “Come on Kitten, you're not gonna give me anymore?” His fingertips struck just right, dragging against that sweet spot that snapped your legs closed against his head and locking in place. Ransom kept going, sucking your clit again while stroking you, tapping, teasing, anything to bring you over.

It was overwhelming, the sensation that flooded you was so sudden that you ended up screaming his name in surprise when your body just felt so fucking good, your hips arching off the desk and you slammed your hand against the wood with a loud slap. The rush of wetness flooded, squirting all over Ransom. “Fuck” You half sobbed out as your muscles just seemed to let go, your thighs falling back open and your body releases to sag against the desk. Ransom smirked as he took one last drag of tongue through your quivering cunt before lifting himself to a stand, leaning over the desk to see you looking so good all wrenched out and fucked from just his mouth.

“I ever tell you how much I fucking love you, Kitten?” You mewled lightly with a nod, Ransom gripped your chin to tilt your head to face him. “What was that?”

“I think you were going too earlier? But got distracted?” You countered and your gaze dropped from his face to his shirt, his expensive shirt that was darkened from your release. “You are a mess, Ransom.”

“Thanks to you Kitten.” He wriggled his brows with pride. His lips were a bright swollen red and you couldn't resist tilting up enough to kiss him, slowly letting your taste flood your mouth, clutching at his shirt to pull him further down.

See the full post

561 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You left behind your life in New York for Lake Superior, settling in Duluth, Minnesota as Mason Academy's newest eighth grade teacher. You weren't expecting to meet anyone, nor were you looking. But when a field trip introduced you to Curtis Everett, your chance meeting opened another new chapter for you.

Warnings will be issued at the beginning of each chapter. This is an 18+ only blog.

Chapter One: Freightyard Education

Chapter Two: Second Chance Paulies

Chapter Three: Va Bene Night With The Stars

Chapter Four: Doorway Kisses

Chapter Five: Taking The Next Step

Chapter Six: Will You Be Mine?

Chapter Seven: When The Mask Comes Off

Chapter Eight: It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year 🎃

Chapter Nine: Life Carries On

Chapter Ten: Pretty Girl Honey

Chapter Eleven: More Than Just Turkey

Chapter Twelve: When It All Feels Like Home

Drabbles 🐝

Beehive

Welcome Home

Night Intruders

Fall Pumpkin Walk

Bonfire

Night In

Curtis’s Haunted House

Spooky Time Shows

Sitting On Face

Fall Time Discussion

Ax Throwing

Cold Winter Night

Sunday Night

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663 notes - Posted March 27, 2022

Big Blog/Small Blog mentality is such toxic bullshit.

Not wanting to associate with someone because they don't have enough followers or interactions just blows my mind. I don't get it.

Fun fact- most blogs regardless of the follower interaction have someone running them, this is supposed to be their fun place to reach and interact with others who have similar interests.

Stop judging them on how many followers they have please, imagine the amazing people you might never meet because "they are not popular enough".

Its bullshit.

785 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Why do we not discuss Aldis Hodge more often?

1,573 notes - Posted January 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Hahaha I'm not shocked Aldis got the top post #He is fine and deserved it

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splintered-emotions · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 10,596 times in 2022

That's 8,343 more posts than 2021!

51 posts created (0%)

10,545 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/dingdongyouarewrong

@beenovel

@shurisneakers

@merisscatteredbooknook

@blueberryrock

I tagged 3,883 of my posts in 2022

#star wars - 447 posts

#that fanart tho - 395 posts

#marvel - 365 posts

#dsmp - 336 posts

#words - 236 posts

#lotr - 219 posts

#tiktok - 185 posts

#stranger things - 183 posts

#amazing art - 143 posts

#fic rec - 115 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and the admin wouldn’t fucking switch them out of that class despite the toll it was taking on their mental health free time and other class

My Top Posts in 2022:

French Onion, Broccoli Cheddar, and Pho soup :)

French Onion - Who is your favorite author(s)?

there's honestly so many so i'm just gonna name a few:

@jackdaw-kraai with his wonderful Guides

@irndad and the tasm!peter fics

@yellow-feathered-faerie who i really must work on that Mandis fic with eventually

chancecraz on ao3 and their time travel star wars fics

and of course, you

Broccoli Cheddar - What was your inspiration for this wip

this is honestly an odd inspiration but i had an absolutely terrible math teacher last year who used to give the most difficult tests and during winter break, while i was cramming for the 3 tests we had in the three weeks after it, i convinced my mom to rewatch the hobbit with me, and a few days later, at like 1 in the morning, i just started typing up Transported and here we are

Pho - Describe your ideal writing set up

i think i'd have to say like music (probably The Amazing Devil because it makes my brain go brr) playing in the background, my laptop charged and not trying to burst into flames, discord open on the side to share snippets and just talk, and me actually having the time to sit down and write without any interruptions

13 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

Hello! If Lotr/The Hobbit requests are open, I hope it's alright that I request one ;-;

Could you please do something about a Reader who was Merry and Pippin's best friend when they were really little kids but they left Middle Earth somehow. But now that they're adults, she gets back to the Shire and now she's a kickass blacksmith who is still really witty and comforting with them and it's a really sweet and wholesome reunion? You can either do Polyamory or Merry x Reader if that's not your thing. I think Merry would be the most likely to get a crush on a human blacksmith reader with big muscles because he strikes me as the kinda guy who'd like Tomboys

I also have this hilarious idea of, since the Reader is human, Pippin finds out that she became an adult at 18 and he's so jealous because she's officially an adult and he's not lmao. Thanks so so much, I hope you're doing well hun! Keep being awesome!!

okay i finally finished it! this may have taken a slightly different route than you were expecting but i hope you like it regardless!

As I looked upon them for the first time in what seemed like a decade, our time spent together in my childhood and their tweens came rushing back, almost flashing before my eyes. The summers spent stealing from Old Farmer Maggot and hanging out at various hobbit parties that I clearly wasn’t invited to were reminiscent of a much different time.

It had been prior to I had been apprenticed to the only blacksmith near Hobbiton and Merry was forced off to visit some relatives or another for months on end, leaving us with no time to see each other, let alone act upon the last things that we said to each other. Although it sometimes seemed like it had been just yesterday when our relationship began to split from the almost something that it had become, but given the new signs of maturity on his face and the burn scars on my hands, it was clear it had been far longer than either of us expected.

Pippin stood next to his cousin, looking between the two of us as we refused to say anything while we took in the differences in each other’s appearance. I had certainly changed far more than Merry, given the fact that blacksmithing required a lot of strength, far more than I had had last time I had seen either of them. The buff female blacksmith had very little similarities to the teenage girl that had never worked a day in her life.

I suppose if I had known how much muscle I would have to build up to truly become good at making even the simple things that hobbits nearby required, I would have thought twice before deciding on this. But now wasn’t the time to rethink the decisions that I had made for my life. Now, I needed to figure out how to begin a conversation with a figure from my not too distant past.

“So,” I said, not entirely thinking through the rest of my sentence just yet. “Have fun with the Tooks?” Oh fuck that was terrible. I was a fool and I would never speak again.

“Yes.” Thank the Valar, he was just as awkward as I was. “And how is your apprenticeship going?”

I could almost see the wince as he finished speaking. We had to break this ridiculous tension somehow. There had to be some way to talk beyond just standing here awkwardly as Pippin looked on. “I kinda finished that a couple summers ago. My master passed on the shop to me once I was done and left to apparently go adventuring. Imagine a 60 year old man going across Arda in search of adventure. Although I suppose with Bilbo, you don’t really have to.”

He seemed more at ease with this topic, immediately replying, “I’m not convinced he truly went. The Mad Baggins was apparently quite tame before he left the Shire.”

“I don’t believe that. That pipeweed smoking hobbit would have jumped at the chance to do it. Although his stories did speak of some hesitation.”

“A Took could never pass up the chance,” interjected Pippin. “I guarantee that any one of our cousins would enjoy it.”

“But Bilbo isn’t a Took. He’s a Baggins. Baggins never do things like that,” stated Merry.

“I thought he was half Took. So there would have been an equal chance of doing it.” I took a breath before saying, “Either way, I assume you didn’t come here to discuss whether or not BIlbo actually bested Smaug, chiefest and greatest of calamities. What did you need?”

The sudden change in topic seemed to lower the energy in the room, but I could see Lobelia Sackville Baggins coming closer so I needed it to look like I was running a “proper establishment” before she decided to enter. This decision wasn’t driven by a sense of urgency, but rather an urge to escape a lecture before she hands me her frying pan to be fixed again after banging on Bilbo’s door again for an hour.

Pippin started, “Oh! I believe that—”

“Frodo asked us to stop by to inquire after a frying pan that was sent to be mended a few days ago. Would you perhaps have it currently ready?” That was oddly stiff in its phrasing. Did he think I was trying to get him out of the shop? Or did he know that Lobelia, the bane of my existence, was approaching?

“I think it’s back here somewhere. Although I think I need another day to fully work on it.” Okay, this was my chance. I could ask. After years of not seeing him, we could finally have a chance at what we had both wanted. “I needed to take a couple days off for my birthday a week ago and the new responsibilities that have been dumped on me have been ridiculous. They don’t tell you that when you legally become an adult, but anyways, I could meet up with you sometime tomorrow to drop it off. If you wanted to do so of course.”

“Sure, but—”

“You’re an adult?” Pippin asked. “But I’m older than you and I’m still a tween.”

“You’d hate being an adult. You have to do taxes and stuff and you can’t just spend the entire day hanging out with friends.”

“Yes, but it’s about the principle of the matter. I am 5 years older than you and yet I’m not even of age.”

“That’s your loss for being born a hobbit. I however can do adult things and buy a pint without my cousin chaperoning me.”

“Regardless,” Merry interjected. “I believe that I shall be free at around noon tomorrow, so would you like to meet under the party tree?”

“Uh, yes of course. I’ll have it done by tomorrow. As long as Lobelia doesn’t have anything new to bring me.”

“Good then. Well I suppose we shall continue this fruitful discussion tomorrow.” At Pippin’s newly open mouth, he continued, “Alone.”

“Yes. Now shoo. She’s coming in and I don’t want to have to pretend like I’m just a blacksmith in front of you too.”

“We will be back!”

See the full post

21 notes - Posted January 31, 2022

i fucking watched the new doctor strange movie and i'm so close to just rambling about the bits of marvel that i hate and the reasons why

24 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

Can I get “that dance, that they did today? it kinda reminded me of when we…” with a pairing of you choice 🥺?

Also makes sure to eat and drink water 🔫

okay so this ended up being a tasm!peter parker x gn!reader fic because i had an Idea so here. also it's kinda implied desi!reader, but it can really be read any way.

also you better do the same 🔫

the link to the dance which i mention is here

Finals were over. My bed was calling my name as I walked back from the horrid chem exam that had caused far too many all-nighteres in an attempt to memorize all of the ions and their charges as well as the formulas that we had learnt only a couple weeks ago.

But now, I could sleep for as long as I wanted until I had to start packing everything. Which was not until tomorrow because the dorms were supposed to be cleared out by next Friday. That left at least 18 hours that I could use to conk out if I wanted to wake up by about 9am tomorrow.

Unfortunately, or perhaps very fortunately, my plan was thrown away as soon as I saw Peter sitting on the stairs in front of the building, playing on his phone. “Did your ethics final finish up early? I thought you were supposed to be out by 4 at the earliest.”

“Kenobi cancelled it. Something about his nephew getting sick.”

“Well that leaves plenty of time for our must watch movie marathon we had planned a couple weeks ago.”

“Wasn’t that supposed to be during packing? So then if it gets far too cheesy, we could distract ourselves with loading up some of the boxes?”

“Yes, but I found out one of the ones I used to watch with my friends recently came back onto Netflix. And because I couldn’t find it literally anywhere else without having to pay an extravagant amount of money for one movie, we’re going to enjoy the experience of this movie without the need for literally anything else. Other than snacks.”

“Of course we would have snacks. Why was that ever in question?”

“With your appetite, it never should be.”

“Hey, you know that’s because of the spider bite.”

“Like you didn’t come over to my house and eat half of my snacks alongside your own when we were in middle school.”

“Well, sixth period P.E. for all three years causes a person to get a bit hungry after school.”

“And that doesn’t explain the time that we went to Build-A-Bear and you told me you wanted to eat a bear.”

“That was something I told you in confidence and something that I didn’t expect you to almost yell in front of your dorm.”

“Everyone deserves to know that you looked at a Gollum plushie and went, ‘That looks like it would be a good snack.’” “Were you like this before your chem final?” he asked. “Because I could have sworn the person I fell asleep next to was not out to kill me.”

“I was a different person then,” I stated while leading him into the building. “I cannot be expected to treat someone who decided to sit out here in 90 degree heat for 3 hours while I took my final nicely.”

He gasped dramatically, playing it up despite the fact that some of my neighbors were coming out to see what havoc we were causing today. “I have helped you study for countless tests and quizzes and even stayed up with you until 4am last night and this is how I am thanked? I shudder to call myself your boyfriend with such poor treatment.”

The Bridgerton marathon shortly before finals kicked into full swing seemed to have done something to him. But honestly, as long as we didn’t get another complaint regarding our arguments prior to the time that we made it upstairs, it would be fine. “And what do you say to the hours that I spent reviewing vocabulary with you for a final you didn’t even take?”

“I thought I had the final until I went to Kenobi’s room and saw the note posted on his door. And when I went to text you, I saw that your final had already started and decided against trying to distract you.”

“Well you should have distracted me anyways. Why wouldn’t I have wanted a text from you? After all, it wasn’t like that final was particularly important, I would have passed the class either way. Plus, you’re far more important than some stupid chem final that is only vaguely relevant to my degree.”

“I’m sure Windu would agree with that assessment.”

“Windu has a stick up his ass. Which I can finally say in front of other people because I’m finally out of that fucking class.” It still hadn’t entirely hit me that the school year was finally over, but the fact that I could hang out with Peter without needing to study or work on a project was beginning to cement it.

“True. I’m not looking forward to when I have to take him next year for organic.” He took a second before continuing, “Are we ever going to unlock your door or are you planning on watching it out here?”

“Right, that. I barely even noticed that we were here.” Which was surprising, however, this could easily be blamed on the sleep deprivation and the Peter’s distracting presence.

See the full post

27 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

so why is my heart broke?

tasm!peter parker x reader

warnings: angst, cursing (as always), and i think that's it

summary: you almost got hurt because of a fight between Spider-Man and the villain of the week. now Peter's trying to stop it from happening again

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?”

“I can’t keep putting you in danger like this,” Peter said.

“That doesn’t mean you break up with me, you dumbass.” You took a look at his face before continuing. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Of course, I’m serious. I can’t see you get hurt again and again because I’m Spider-Man.”

“I get hurt once because I was somewhere the fight got to, and somehow this is what it results in? No, Peter, I refuse.”

“You can’t refuse,” he states, albeit with some confusion. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“Peter Motherfucker Parker, I refuse to let you break up with me.”

“I refuse to let you refuse to let me break up with you.”

“I wasn’t even involved in the fight before the villain of the week fucking crashed into the cafe I was picking up coffee from. How could this have resulted from you being Spider-Man? If anyone else was fighting them, the same thing would have happened.”

“Everyone who I have loved while being Spider-Man has been hurt by this, and I refuse to let you be a victim of the Parker curse.”

“I will stay right here beside you to show you that there is no such thing. There is simply the fact that I love you Peter Parker, and I will not leave your side.”

“And it is because of that that I can’t let you stay. I can’t see you get hurt.”

“Well this is hurting me. I’m in love with you and you just want me to leave? I can’t Peter. I can’t see you getting banged up on TV and know that I can’t do anything to help. I can’t leave you.”

“But you should.”

“When has that ever decided what I was going to do? What we were going to do? Fuck what I should do,” I exclaimed.

“I can’t lose you. No matter how much this would hurt both of us, it would never compare to the pain of losing you.”

“And the same applies to you. Do you think I would be okay knowing that you had, that you had died out there, fighting an alien or some shit? I can barely handle the idea of breaking up with you and yet you want me to live knowing that you are out there risking your life every day without anyone on your side? No one there to patch you up when you get hurt? No one who knows what you’re going through every time you show up with bruises and cuts?”

“And what would happen to me if you weren’t there because of me? Because I can’t live without knowing that you were safe. No matter how difficult it is to leave you, there’s no option here where you’re safe. There’s never been one as soon as you chose me.”

“And I’m going to keep choosing you. I am always going to choose you, Peter. Despite all the dangers and slightly insane ideas, I love you.”

That seemed to cause the last remaining bits of fight left in him to dissipate. “I love you too. Despite your stubbornness.”

“Hey, I think that it’s warranted right now. You were about to lose the best thing in your life because you got scared of something that wasn’t your fault. Someone had to do something about it,” You retorted.

“I’m glad someone did.”

108 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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mrwiseandshine · 1 year ago

Text

Sharing the core strategy is helpful and positive, and it speaks well of Automattic's leadership that they're willing to maintain the kind of transparency we've seen recently. But yeah, there are good reasons for people to be concerned about several of these goals. Basically everything in this strategy is compatible with a healthy Tumblr that retains its current userbase, but it also feels like the writing is on the wall for core features that long-time users love.

Some comments on each principle:

Improving conversion rates generally means making the experience worse for logged-out users. That does sometimes matter for logged-in users. It used to be that webcomics sometimes used Tumblr for hosting, so Tumblr users could follow them directly on the dashboard but the comics were still accessible for anyone. I recently sent someone a link to a blog and they had trouble accessing it because they didn't have an account. Moving away from conversion rates would make the user experience better on both of these items, but yeah, it's basically a lost cause. People screenshot content when they want to share it these days. It sucks but there isn't much room to make things worse for current users by requiring login.

Prioritizing non-chronological feeds in development is, as sabakos says, equivalent to relegating the chronological dash to a legacy feature. This makes users nervous, literally. It puts me on edge, makes me worried about Tumblr's future. It's certainly possible to maintain the chronological dash as a first-class feature alongside an expanded "Best Stuff First", but retaining trust about it actually happening requires taking active steps to show the chronological dash remains a priority, even if they're a little silly or wasteful.

In particular, a lot of this talk about improving conversations sounds like it can work great on the chronological dashboard too. In particular, deduplication of posts on the dash would be great, I'd love to have a chronological dashboard where the first appearance of a post has a number with how many times it shows up in the last 24 hours of my dash. Adjacent identical reblogs should be collapsed into one, and later identical appearances of posts I've already seen should be minimized or hidden. This should be optional, but I'd definitely like deduplication. It would also be great to be able to see all comments from anyone I follow on a post, so I can know I've got the full context on the most recent addition.

Creators already like Tumblr, so changing core features to prevent users from avoiding content they don't follow is super dangerous. Using language like "the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs" is terrible, don't talk like that about core features central to the value the site provides to current users. That said, yeah, there's lots of ways the site could work better for creators. Revenue sharing with users that generate significant original content is an obvious but expensive one. The ability to forcibly put source headers linking back to the artist on posts by other users would probably be popular. A dedicated feed or dash config slider for "art I'd like" would be neat, there are probably people who'd appreciate extra art even if they don't want generic non-chronological content.

Maximizing attention and engagement is also dangerous. On other websites, this generally means "make the website more addictive to make your users' lives worse". Tumblr knows that, of course, but it's an obvious point of concern for users.

No disagreement on the importance of stability, though. Tumblr bugs have often been fun, they're a part of the local culture, but clearly stability improvements ought to be a major goal.

I'd also just be really interested to know how much a user costs Tumblr, on average. Does an ad-free subscription pay for a whole user's costs?

Tumblr’s Core Product Strategy

Here at Tumblr, we’ve been working hard on reorganizing how we work in a bid to gain more users. A larger user base means a more sustainable company, and means we get to stick around and do this thing with you all a bit longer. What follows is the strategy we're using to accomplish the goal of user growth. The @labs group has published a bit already, but this is bigger. We’re publishing it publicly for the first time, in an effort to work more transparently with all of you in the Tumblr community. This strategy provides guidance amid limited resources, allowing our teams to focus on specific key areas to ensure Tumblr’s future.

The Diagnosis

In order for Tumblr to grow, we need to fix the core experience that makes Tumblr a useful place for users. The underlying problem is that Tumblr is not easy to use. Historically, we have expected users to curate their feeds and lean into curating their experience. But this expectation introduces friction to the user experience and only serves a small portion of our audience.

Tumblr’s competitive advantage lies in its unique content and vibrant communities. As the forerunner of internet culture, Tumblr encompasses a wide range of interests, such as entertainment, art, gaming, fandom, fashion, and music. People come to Tumblr to immerse themselves in this culture, making it essential for us to ensure a seamless connection between people and content.

To guarantee Tumblr’s continued success, we’ve got to prioritize fostering that seamless connection between people and content. This involves attracting and retaining new users and creators, nurturing their growth, and encouraging frequent engagement with the platform.

Our Guiding Principles

To enhance Tumblr’s usability, we must address these core guiding principles.

Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Retain and grow our creator base.

Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Improve the platform’s performance, stability, and quality.

Below is a deep dive into each of these principles.

Principle 1: Expand the ways new users can discover and sign up for Tumblr.

Tumblr has a “top of the funnel” issue in converting non-users into engaged logged-in users. We also have not invested in industry standard SEO practices to ensure a robust top of the funnel. The referral traffic that we do get from external sources is dispersed across different pages with inconsistent user experiences, which results in a missed opportunity to convert these users into regular Tumblr users. For example, users from search engines often land on pages within the blog network and blog view—where there isn’t much of a reason to sign up.

We need to experiment with logged-out tumblr.com to ensure we are capturing the highest potential conversion rate for visitors into sign-ups and log-ins. We might want to explore showing the potential future user the full breadth of content that Tumblr has to offer on our logged-out pages. We want people to be able to easily understand the potential behind Tumblr without having to navigate multiple tabs and pages to figure it out. Our current logged-out explore page does very little to help users understand “what is Tumblr.” which is a missed opportunity to get people excited about joining the site.

Actions & Next Steps

Improving Tumblr’s search engine optimization (SEO) practices to be in line with industry standards.

Experiment with logged out tumblr.com to achieve the highest conversion rate for sign-ups and log-ins, explore ways for visitors to “get” Tumblr and entice them to sign up.

Principle 2: Provide high-quality content with every app launch.

We need to ensure the highest quality user experience by presenting fresh and relevant content tailored to the user’s diverse interests during each session. If the user has a bad content experience, the fault lies with the product.

The default position should always be that the user does not know how to navigate the application. Additionally, we need to ensure that when people search for content related to their interests, it is easily accessible without any confusing limitations or unexpected roadblocks in their journey.

Being a 15-year-old brand is tough because the brand carries the baggage of a person’s preconceived impressions of Tumblr. On average, a user only sees 25 posts per session, so the first 25 posts have to convey the value of Tumblr: it is a vibrant community with lots of untapped potential. We never want to leave the user believing that Tumblr is a place that is stale and not relevant.

Actions & Next Steps

Deliver great content each time the app is opened.

Make it easier for users to understand where the vibrant communities on Tumblr are.

Improve our algorithmic ranking capabilities across all feeds.

Principle 3: Facilitate easier user participation in conversations.

Part of Tumblr’s charm lies in its capacity to showcase the evolution of conversations and the clever remarks found within reblog chains and replies. Engaging in these discussions should be enjoyable and effortless.

Unfortunately, the current way that conversations work on Tumblr across replies and reblogs is confusing for new users. The limitations around engaging with individual reblogs, replies only applying to the original post, and the inability to easily follow threaded conversations make it difficult for users to join the conversation.

Actions & Next Steps

Address the confusion within replies and reblogs.

Improve the conversational posting features around replies and reblogs.

Allow engagements on individual replies and reblogs.

Make it easier for users to follow the various conversation paths within a reblog thread.

Remove clutter in the conversation by collapsing reblog threads.

Explore the feasibility of removing duplicate reblogs within a user’s Following feed.

Principle 4: Retain and grow our creator base.

Creators are essential to the Tumblr community. However, we haven’t always had a consistent and coordinated effort around retaining, nurturing, and growing our creator base.

Being a new creator on Tumblr can be intimidating, with a high likelihood of leaving or disappointment upon sharing creations without receiving engagement or feedback. We need to ensure that we have the expected creator tools and foster the rewarding feedback loops that keep creators around and enable them to thrive.

The lack of feedback stems from the outdated decision to only show content from followed blogs on the main dashboard feed (“Following”), perpetuating a cycle where popular blogs continue to gain more visibility at the expense of helping new creators. To address this, we need to prioritize supporting and nurturing the growth of new creators on the platform.

It is also imperative that creators, like everyone on Tumblr, feel safe and in control of their experience. Whether it be an ask from the community or engagement on a post, being successful on Tumblr should never feel like a punishing experience.

Actions & Next Steps

Get creators’ new content in front of people who are interested in it.

Improve the feedback loop for creators, incentivizing them to continue posting.

Build mechanisms to protect creators from being spammed by notifications when they go viral.

Expand ways to co-create content, such as by adding the capability to embed Tumblr links in posts.

Principle 5: Create patterns that encourage users to keep returning to Tumblr.

Push notifications and emails are essential tools to increase user engagement, improve user retention, and facilitate content discovery. Our strategy of reaching out to you, the user, should be well-coordinated across product, commercial, and marketing teams.

Our messaging strategy needs to be personalized and adapt to a user’s shifting interests. Our messages should keep users in the know on the latest activity in their community, as well as keeping Tumblr top of mind as the place to go for witty takes and remixes of the latest shows and real-life events.

Most importantly, our messages should be thoughtful and should never come across as spammy.

Actions & Next Steps

Conduct an audit of our messaging strategy.

Address the issue of notifications getting too noisy; throttle, collapse or mute notifications where necessary.

Identify opportunities for personalization within our email messages.

Test what the right daily push notification limit is.

Send emails when a user has push notifications switched off.

Principle 6: Performance, stability and quality.

The stability and performance of our mobile apps have declined. There is a large backlog of production issues, with more bugs created than resolved over the last 300 days. If this continues, roughly one new unresolved production issue will be created every two days. Apps and backend systems that work well and don't crash are the foundation of a great Tumblr experience. Improving performance, stability, and quality will help us achieve sustainable operations for Tumblr.

Improve performance and stability: deliver crash-free, responsive, and fast-loading apps on Android, iOS, and web.

Improve quality: deliver the highest quality Tumblr experience to our users.

Move faster: provide APIs and services to unblock core product initiatives and launch new features coming out of Labs.

Conclusion

Our mission has always been to empower the world’s creators. We are wholly committed to ensuring Tumblr evolves in a way that supports our current users while improving areas that attract new creators, artists, and users. You deserve a digital home that works for you. You deserve the best tools and features to connect with your communities on a platform that prioritizes the easy discoverability of high-quality content. This is an invigorating time for Tumblr, and we couldn’t be more excited about our current strategy.

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hwangism143 · 7 months ago

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paper rings

synopsis: you're in love with your best friend, but technically, you're already engaged

pairing: non-idol!jisung x gn!reader (ft. the rest of skz and one roommate)

genre: best friends to lover, idiots

warnings: drinking. swearing. reader is implied to be bisexual. kys jokes.

word count: 4.1k words

a/n: i remember reading about someone and their best friend doing this lmao and just instantly thought of jisung. pls drop your comments and reblog lovies <3!

"i hate accidents, except when we went from friends to this"

Being Han Jisung's best friend was certainly... something. Three years ago when he sat down on the free seat next to you during your first sound engineering class and offered you a big grin, you never expected him to become an unreplaceable part of your life. It came with it's benefits too though; you were now friends with his extremely loud and boisterous group of friends, but hey, at least that meant that you would get free food from Jisung five days a week (technically it was his food the Minho would pack but, who cares? Certainly not him).

You found it extremely easy to become friends with Jisung. It was almost amusing, how quickly you had opened the door to your heart for entry by him. Asking for class notes soon became hour long conversations about anime and movies and campus gossip. A shared obsession over Taylor Swift soon became in-home ice cream sessions spent dissecting her lyrics. Your friendship had gotten to the point where everyday, Jisung would leave you a paper ring on your seat beside, scribbled with a inspirational message.

You two had a tendency of doing almost everything together. You both were similar in several ways. Jisung wanted to be a music producer and had already decided that you would be the sound engineer for his studio. You both had anxiety as well, and although it varied, you knew each other's tells. It was a habit, at this point, comforting each other and being the other person's crutch in life.

Although, doing everything together wasn't always beneficiary. You were often party to Jisung's mischievous schemes, a product of his irresistible longing to entice playful irritation within his hyungs. The rest of the group loved you though, causing Jisung to be let off easily as a result of you being present with him.

You couldn't really say that you showed any mercy to Jisung either. He was a compulsory addition, along with your phone and wallet, on your late night grocery runs. You could have a craving from sushi to just dollar-store ramen, Jisung was always there (and sometimes not of his own will and accord). Regardless of what time or what materialistic object was set in your sights, Jisung had to come with you.

He never complained though. The boy had a slightly concerning affinity towards eating blueberry muffins and barbecued chicken breast at two in the morning. Both of you having some of the most fucked up sleep schedules you had ever seen (rivaled only by that of Chan, if you could even call it a sleep schedule), caused these late night runs to be an extremely frequent occurrence.

Your eyes were closed as you sat in the park bench in the middle of some town whose name you could not pronounce. What was the point of going to a prestigious university if they didn't even take you on nice trips?

After Jisung had finally been released from the clutches of 3RACHA (aka three broke men making music that is destined for greatness as soon as they become money minded), he had found his way to you. Well, less found his way and more spam called you and blew up your phone with Jujitsu Kaizen memes (which was so infuriating because you hadn't even watched it and yet your phone's gallery was full of Gojo's six-pack, all thanks to Jisung).

You felt bad for even thinking it, but to be honest, you were kind of avoiding him. Lately, Jisung had been spending a lot of time with you. You were probably imagining it, but it felt like Jisung was stealing glances towards you more often, like his touches were lingering instead of fleeting.

Ah, hope. What a fickle thing. It had people grasping to ideals that could be never achieved, desperately trying to hold on to a light that was long past dimming. You were already prisoner to wishful thinking; you didn't want to be held captive to the confines of hope either.

You texted Jisung the location of the park that you had accidentally stumbled upon and had decided to spend the rest of your day in. The university you attended had paid for transport, dumped you here and left you to be. To be fair, there wasn't really much you could plan for a two-day one night trip. The idea was, for your friend group at least, to spend the first morning roaming around on your own, go out to a nice restaurant in the night and spend the second day in the beach before heading home.

Jisung was hijacked by his other friend group for the larger part of the day, causing you to be victim of walking around pitifully alone and threatening bodily harm if Jisung didn't properly apologize with Boba and breakfast pancakes. You were walking in and out of stores, window shopping (the unfortunate and yet to be expected aftermath of blowing all your money on arcade tickets), when you decided to sit down somewhere nice.

Of course you found the most sub-urban park you had ever seen, complete with a once copper now greening statue of some man who was probably extremely important to the towns history but never brought up in conversation, educational or otherwise. The park was full of children with rose-tinted cheeks and mothers lamenting about each other (with the addition of an occasional barking dog).

You wondered if you would live the same way someday, coming to the park with a man or woman you loved and a child in your arms. Maybe even a dog or two, although you highly doubted if you could handle one considering you didn't even have a hold on yourself. Soon, you saw the figure of Jisung approaching you, Boba in one hand and waving at you with another. He handed you the drink and proceeded to sit down, his thigh brushing against yours.

Beside you, you felt Jisung shuffling around. "Okay, I have a very important question. When did you feel happiest with me?"

You wondered what could have prompted such a question from him. Jisung did have a tendency to talk about the latest hit songs for two weeks and then suddenly ask you about something nearly superficially philosophical. The last time he had asked you something, it had prompted an hour long debate on the meaning of life that could only be stopped due to Minho allegedly accidentally bringing home a stray kitten.

You let out a snort, "People don't feel happy around you, they fear for their fucking lives."

Jisung shoved you playfully, "Hey, be serious!" He had been growing out his hair and it fell into his eyes, making you suppress the temptation to run your hands through it. The entire world was moving around you, cars driving, people talking, an annoyingly loud baby crying. But this moment, with Jisung looking at you with curious eyes and a wide smile, was at a standstill.

You instantly knew the answer and reflected his smile back at him, "When you first proposed to me."

University students were apparently supposed to be mature and always prepared. You and Jisung were clearly the exception. The two of you were doubled over in laughter (in the middle of the street that too) after recounting what had happened just a few short minutes before.

It was a mere two weeks after your mid-terms for your first year in university. Jisung was over at your dorm room, citing an escape from Changbin's chokehold as an excuse to instead trouble you with his presence. You both were curled up on the couch watching some trashy reality show when Jisung's stomach comically grumbled.

Without even bothering to grab your stuff, you both had gone to a fast food restaurant, craving french fries for dinner. As Jisung ordered, the cashier asked robotically, 'cash of credit'. Jisung looked at you with wide eyes. You reciprocated.

The cashier was growing impatient. "Well? Do I need to call someone?"

The both of you exchanged a glance. A curt nod. And ran for your lives as the cashier cursed behind you. You both ran as much as you could until your legs finally gave out. Finding yourself in front of an alleyway full of small shops, you began contemplating where was the best to go. Finally, the two of you went inside a small, family-owned café, and sat down, breathing heavily.

The café in itself was extremely cozy, decorated in varying shades of brown and beige. You were surprised and slightly disappointed about not discovering this gem of a place before. In your mind, you had already tucked it away to become a regular study destination. You certainly did need one after getting banned from the public library thanks to another one of Jisung's antics.

"Did he call us a green horse's explosive ass?" You questioned, just setting off another fit of giggles.

Jisung shrugged at you, his eyes suddenly narrowing. That couldn't be good. He had a look in his eyes that you knew all too well. Han Jisung was about to come up with a plan, and it would either be Nobel worthy or akin to a tsunami.

"Y/N," said Jisung, "I have an idea. Just play along."

He dragged you to the middle of the restaurant, earning stares from the onlookers who were peacefully eating. His right leg bounced up and down as you glared at him. What are you doing? you mouthed at him. Just trust me, he said back. You knew about his social anxiety. Then why on earth was he putting himself in such a situation?

He took a few steps backwards, letting go of your hands, and dropped down on one knee. Jisung took out something shiny out of his pocket and quickly wiped it on his sweater. You looked at him in confusion, eyebrows raising in disbelief when you realized what was happening.

"When I first met you, I knew you were the one for me. Everything about you fit everything about me as if we're meant to be. I don't know the definition eternal, but if we were to consider the conventional meaning... I would like to have the honor of spending the rest of it with you."

You arched an eyebrow, wondering how long it took your best friend to come up with that. Coming back to your surroundings, as if on cue, your hand flew to your mouth and your eyes began to water (more so because of how difficult it was for you to contain your laughter, but oh well; at least it got the job done.)

You rapidly began to nod, grinning at him ear to ear. He smiled back at you, slipping the ring onto your finger. You look down at it, suppressing yet another snicker after seeing the tacky pawn shop ring that adorned your hand. Jisung quickly wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and spinning you around. You giggled into the crook of his neck as the room burst into applause.

People came up to you with their congratulations while you two went to the counter to place your orders. "Two chicked burgers and one large french fries to go please," said Jisung kindly. He cocked his head towards you, "Baby, do you want the oreo milkshake?"

Jisung calling you 'baby' caught you by surprise. A part of you had nearly forgotten that you still had to put up the act. Blushing furiously (because you forgot, not because Jisung called you baby with a low drawl, obviously), you replied with a simple, "Sure. Thanks, honey." You smiled in achievement as Jisung began stuttering, cheeks tinted red.

"Oh, it's on the house for the soon to be married!" said the kindly old lady working the counter. Jisung quickly grabbed your food and the two of you rushed out of the store. As soon as you turned the corner, you both burst out laughing again.

"Jisung," you slapped him on the chest, "I feel so guilty!"

He just gave you a sheepish nod, grabbing a french fry and popping it in his mouth. You continued protesting but he put a finger on you lip and tilted the bag of food toward you. You gave him an admonishing look, picking up the food. He threw an arm around your shoulder while you settled into the curve of his collarbone, eating and walking in comfortable silence on the way home.

That was when, you thought, that was when you first started seeing him as someone more than just a friend.

Jisung tapped you impaitiently. "What say we do it again?" he asked sweetly.

"Oh my god Jisung, stop," you said pushing him playfully. He pouted at you while you glared at him, until Chan came up to the two of you and asked if he could talk to Jisung alone.

Jisung gave you an apologetic smile and strolled away with Chan, chatting away about something. As soon as he left, you let out a long exhale.

Nobody warned you about how painful being in love with your best friend would be. Nobody told you about how difficult it would be to restrain yourself from confessing all you feelings. Nobody told you how torturous it would be watching him gaze at other people, knowing that he would never look at you the same way.

You pinpointed that afternoon as the day when you started looking at Han Jisung through rose-tinted glasses. You went from being comforted by his light touches to craving them. You found yourself wanting to be something to him, something more than just a label of a 'best friend'.

You wanted him, wholly and completely, and were prepared to give yourself to him in the exact same way.

You would never, in a hundred years though, tell Jisung about your feelings. You had made up your mind. Telling him that you loved him would put your friendship at risk. You would much rather have Jisung at an arm's length than not at all.

You sat in the bench, lost in thought when you felt a throat clear in front of you. There Jisung was propped up on one knee, rattling off the same words he had told you all those months ago. He had a twinkle in his eye. You had tears in yours.

Jisung always lauded your performance in that tiny café. He said that your on command crying was so exceptional that 'aspiring actors should be grateful that you decided to settle on sound engineering'. You decided to spare his feelings and not tell him that your tears were a result of the absolute absurdity surrounding the entire situation.

The second and only other time that Jisung had whipped out his ring and you had whipped out your bridal tendencies was when your entire friend group was half-drunk in a bar, celebrating after mid-terms week. Jeongin wanted a full play by play of what, by then, was an iconic party story. You both went at again, albeit a little sloppily considering your inebriated state of mind.

This time though, tears ran down your face mercilessly. You couldn't take it anymore, your feelings growing and growing into something bigger than you could fathom. What started as the fluttering of a lone butterfly turned into a swarm of them and this, this was your breaking point.

Jisung looked at you with concern in his eyes. "Y/N? Are you okay? Is everything-"

"Stop," you snapped at him, "Just fucking stop, Jisung. Please."

He looked at you in confusion as you stood up and walked away.

The first place you went to was the hotel you were staying at. You quickly ran through the streets, wiping away your tears swiftly. There was something inherently wrong with you. You had utterly fucked up. You should have just played along. You should have just said yes. You should not have been hoping for something that you knew was out of reach.

You sat on your hotel bed when you heard a knock on your door. When you swung it open, Hyunjin and Seungmin stood there with an armful of chocolates and identical, all to familiar expressions on their face. Pity.

"Don't have a love life of your own so you came to interfere in mine?" You asked dryly, beckoning them inside. Out of everyone, only Hyunjin and Seungmin knew about your crush on Jisung.

You stood in the kitchen silently, swallowing the lump in your throat. Jisung was in the other room talking about this really pretty and amazing new transfer in their music production course. With every word of praise he spoke about her, another piece of your heart broke apart.

When you couldn't bear to listen to anymore of the incredible things that the enigmatic 'new year girl' had done anymore, you retreated into Felix's brightly lit kitchen. You opted to find solace in the soda that bubbled in your red Solo cup and the smell of brownies that somehow still lingered despite being taken out (and subsequently consumed) over an hour ago.

Hyunjin and Seungmin were walking into the kitchen when they spotted you. Hyunjin, ever the empath, knew that something was up with you. He attempted to talk to you about it, but you kept shutting him down. Seungmin, who was the most like you in the entire group, knew you needed time and lightly rested his fingers on Hyunjin's arm.

"You can stay," you said, your voice breaking in between. The three of you just stood there, the only sound being muffled chatter and the occasional sip of soda in your case and beer in theirs. Seungmin must have given Hyunjin a signal of affirmation when he turned to you, mouth opened as if to ask you a question.

He was walking on figurative eggshells when he asked you hesitantly, "You like him, don't you?"

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes and that was all it took for the two boys to quietly slip out of the apartment with you, grab ice cream and listen to your pathetic dilemma. Vowing to help you if you could keep Minho from yelling at them about the cat toy they had happened to lose, the three of you formed an extremely unlikely yet strong friendship, built on the very foundations of your pathetic unrequited love.

Hyunjin laid back on your bed and you settled to sit down beside him. He wordlessly handed you the chocolate, waiting for you to open it as Seungmin opted to sit down on the armchair across from the bed. Oddly enough, you had grown extremely close to the two of them after the conversation you had in the kitchen six months ago. Apart from Jisung and your roommate Reina, they were the people you were closest to.

Seungmin scoffed, "If you had a love life, we wouldn't be here in the first place."

You swore at him and threw the wrapping paper towards him. Hyunjin turned and attempted to giggle into the bedsheet undetected but earned a light slap from you in response. You slouched beside Hyunjin with a sigh, handing him block of chocolate, "Jisung told you, didn't he?"

"Yep," said Hyunjin loudly, chewing his chocolate. Seungmin pulled a face at him as you snapped a finger in the air to get their attention.

"Okay, so?"

Seungmin's eyes turned towards you. "He was horrified thinking that he had overstepped his boundaries blah blah blah, can't lose your friendship, ya da da," he said in a bored tone, "Please tell him you're in love with him. It will spare us all the pain."

You glared at him. "What if he- Hyunjin! Don't eat all of it!"

"I got you another," he said between mouthfuls, "and listen up. You know how we're your go to relationship venting people right? Well, turns out Minho hyung and Changbin hyung have taken up those responsibilities on Jisung's end. We met them up on the way here and, well, you both need to talk to each other."

Hyunjin finished triumphantly and reached for a bag of chips that lay innocently on the bedside, unaware of the fate that was about to befall them at the hands of a certain Hwang Hyunjin. Seungmin just pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "Look. Talk to him at that restaurant we'll be going to tonight, okay? You'll be all dressed up and maybe that'll help your cause considering how you look like a homeless person half the time."

You threw him a pillow and grateful smile in response.

"Can we talk?" asked Jisung as he stood near the chair next to you. Hyunjin shot you an encouraging thumbs up while Seungmin raised his glass of soju at you, a remind that you weren't allowed to drink yourself senseless (as worded by Seungmin himself), until you had a proper and sober conversation with Jisung about your feelings. You motioned for him to sit down on the chair beside you and Jisung followed suit.

The two of you sat in silence, and for the first time, it was heartbreakingly awkward. Silence with Jisung was never supposed to be like that. It wasn't supposed to be heavy. It was supposed to be a moment when you could just sit quietly and collect your thoughts. It was a moment when you would need a break from life, put the entire ordeal of existence on pause, and not have to explain why. It was a gift only Jisung could bestow upon you, and a curse only he could understand as well as.

"I have something to say as well. I'm sorry for running off like that," you say apologetically, in an attempt to break the silence. Jisung wordlessly hands you over a piece of what looks like green paper. It's a ring. A paper ring. It matches the pink one on his finger that he fiddles with unconsciously. You resist the overwhelming urge to place your hand on top of his and lace your fingers together.

"Oh. Is that all?"

"No- um, actually," you begin and then falter. Jisung looks at you intently, eyes prodding. It was almost as if was waiting for you to say something. His piercing gaze retreats and his expression transforms into one of defeat. He opens his mouth slightly to say something, which you do as well.

You take a deep breath, ready to deliver a confession that would rival that of the likes of a 16th century lovestruck noble, born from the pages of a Shakespearian play when you both blurt out at the same time, "I like you."

Jisung continued rambling, "I didn't know how to tell you. You're so smart and funny and beautiful and amazing that I thought you would never like me that way. I pretended to like other people so that you feel jealous, because, apparently according to Changbin hyung and Minho hyung, that is extremely effective. I should have known not to take advice from a man who literally calls his treadmill his wife and a cat mother. But I was desperate. And I didn't know and-"

"Jisung," you laughed, giving him a small shake, "I like you."

"Wait," Jisung's eyes widened as he stumbled over his words, "For real?"

You shake your head up and down, still processing everything. Jisung liked you. You. You, who were quick to snap at people when they hurt someone you loved. You, who waited and pushed until after a deadline. You, who either loved passionately or not at all.

Being loved by him was all you ever wanted, but how could he love someone as tangled up of a mess as you?

Jisung gave you a knowing look. He took you hands in his when he said, "I meant it all. The proposal. I don't know the meaning of eternity but, you give me a reason to look for it. If I look for the meaning of eternity then I have an excuse, an explanation as to why I should spend the rest of my life with you."

You looked at him, unshed drops of water reflecting in his eyes. Oh, those eyes you fondly called 'bob-shaped', those eyes that you could drown in.

"Jisung," you asked softly, "Is this the part where we kiss?"

Jisung rested his forehead on yours and gave a low chuckle, "I'm supposed to to be the idiot in this relationship, not you."

He pressed his lips onto yours and your reciprocated, ignoring all the cheering and hooting coming from the other side of the room. This moment belonged to the two of you. There was nobody you would rather give your heart too than your best friend Han Jisung, and there was nobody whose heart Jisung would rather have fit in his palm than yours.

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han jisung fluff #han jisung fanfic #- via's fics <3

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

Text

Juniper’s Story | Tommy Shelby x Reader

PART 4 of the Girl Dad Series…find more HERE.

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: How the littlest of the Shelby girls got her name, and how she made her entrance into the world.

Warnings: mentions of hospitals, a bunch of fluff

Word Count: 3628

A/N: I’ve teased it, talked about it, and it was the winner of the poll I shared last week…now it’s finally here! I always have so much fun writing with this family. Even though it’s called Juniper’s Story, Thea’s really the star of this one. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

It all started with a simple question from Thea: "can we name baby sissy Juniper?".

Most kids have their obsessions, whether it be princesses, dinosaurs, or what have you. Well, for Theodora Rose Shelby...it was Juniper trees. Her interest was created when she got assigned the Juniper tree as a topic for a little research project that her schoolteacher tasked the class with completing. Out of all of the flora of England, Thea got the Juniper tree, and so she dove headfirst into learning about them.

First, she asked aunt Ada if she could find some books about Juniper trees at the library. Then she asked uncle Arthur if he could help her draw pictures of Juniper trees so that the visual part of her project was perfect. Finally, she enlisted the help of her mum to make sure that what she wrote sounded really good because her mum was 'the best writer she'd ever known'.

It wasn't a surprise that she got the highest grade in her class for the project. But Thea's love for Juniper trees didn't stop there. No...if anything, it grew even more.

Soon Frances was calling to the local farmer's markets to see if they had, or could make, Juniper jam - because Thea was really interested in knowing what the 'adorable berries' taste like. Also Tommy had to put in an order to the property's gardener to add some Juniper saplings onto the grounds. Thea made sure to take walks to see them every day so that she could track how they were growing.

(Y/N) found her daughter's newfound interest absolutely adorable...Tommy was a bit bummed that her love for a plant had taken over her interest in horses. Nevertheless, both of her parents made sure that her interest and love were validated, no matter how silly it seemed from the outside looking in.

Another thing Thea was absolutely over the moon for was her mummy having another baby. She took pride in being the big sister of the family, and was confident that she'd be an excellent sister to the new baby that was going to be coming, just like she is to Evie.

(Y/N) was thankful for this, especially since - despite her initial excitement to share the news with her father - Evie was rather wary of there being a new baby in the house. She was realizing that she was no longer going to be the littlest and was having some trouble working her way to the understanding of her new role as 'middle sister'. No matter how many times, and different ways, (Y/N) would try to explain the situation, things would always end with poor Evie crying and (Y/N) feeling like she failed.

Thea was most certainly happy to make sure that Evie understood that she was still going to be loved and a part of the family, and she did it in a way only a six year old can do to a three year old. (Y/N) could vividly remember the evening she found the two girls talking about the subject. She stayed in the doorway and watched as Thea answered every single one of Evie's questions and assured her that she'd still very much be loved by her mum and dad 'because that's what happened to me when you came home'. It was hard for the older woman to hold back her tears. Thea certainly saved the day in that regard.

One evening, when aunt Polly had come to visit, the family had sat down for dinner. (Y/N) was talking about her pregnancy this time around, and how things were going compared to her previous two. Polly intently listened to the younger woman as she spoke, and waited until she was finished to share what she had been thinking for some time now. "You're having another girl," she told (Y/N), a closed mouth smile present as she shared the information.

"You think so?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes widening slightly as she felt a smile begin to tug at her lips. One glance at Tommy brought the smile full onto her features as she tried to hold back her giggles. She knew that he so desperately wanted to have a son.

"I know so," Polly corrected in a confident tone, nodding slightly as she raised her eyebrows.

A brilliant idea came to Thea the following afternoon after she'd been thinking about the news since her aunt Polly had said it: why not put her two loves together?

She found her mum already sitting at the table when she entered the dining room. A bright smile was present on her face as she sat down across from the older woman, watching as Evie clambered up into the chair to her right.

"What's that smile for, Thea?" (Y/N) asked, suspiciously eyeing her eldest daughter as the plates were brought out.

Thea bit onto her bottom lip to contain her excitement. Now is the time to ask it!, she thought to herself, feeling her excitement bubble up with each second that passed. (Y/N) waited expectantly, hoping that the young girl would come out with her answer before she exploded from her own excitement. "Can we name baby sissy Juniper?" she finally asked, the widest smile on her face.

"Juniper?" (Y/N) checked to make sure, intrigue slipping into the single word sentence.

"Yes, Juniper," Thea nodded firmly, "like the really pretty tree with the adorable berries."

"Are you sure that the baby will be a girl?" (Y/N) had another question.

"Yes," Thea nodded again, without a doubt in her mind, "aunt Polly's never wrong."

(Y/N) laughed softly at what her daughter had to say, "I can't argue there," she agreed then, taking a bite of her meal before looking up to see that both of her daughters were waiting intently on her response to the original question. She looked between the both of them before speaking again: "Evie, do you like the name Juniper?" she decided to ask the three year old.

"Oh yes! Juniper is a beautiful name, mummy. Just like my name is and Thea's name is," she agreed with her older sister's proposal.

(Y/N) smiled at the girl's response, staying silent for a few beats before she spoke again: "I think it's a sweet name, but I'll have to talk to daddy about it before we decide anything," she told the girls.

"You're right...daddy should get to say if he likes the name too," Thea nodded her head at her mother's statement, her confidence in the suggestion not waning.

(Y/N) settled herself on the lounge that was positioned next to the phone receiver later that evening. Tommy was off on business, and she knew that the later in the evening she tried to call, the better the chance she'd have at reaching him.

After asking for his room, she was put through, and the call picked up after two rings. "Hello?" Tommy's voice came from the other side of the line.

"Tommy," (Y/N) breathed, letting out a content sigh just after hearing his voice, "how was your day?"

"Busy," he didn't give many details...he never did. If she was being honest, (Y/N) didn't know if she rathered him to share them or not. "How are you and the girls?" he shifted the question onto her.

"We're all good," she smiled as she answered him, "Thea asked me a pretty interesting question at dinner this evening."

"Oh yeah?" it was clear that she'd caught his interest, "what's that?"

"She asked if we could name the new baby Juniper," she told him what their daughter had asked, running an absentminded hand over her baby bump as she spoke.

"Juniper?" he questioned the name, much like she had after hearing the question herself.

"Yes, Juniper," (Y/N) just had to giggle as she realized that she had answered his initial question just like Thea had answered hers.

Silence came over the receiver then, and (Y/N) could almost picture Tommy sitting; mulling over the idea in his mind. The mental image of it made her smile.

"Are you still there, love?" she decided to ask after a few moments had passed.

"I am," he responded, letting out a breath of a laugh then, "I'm still quite stuck on the suggestion...she wants to name the baby after a tree?"

"Yes, she does," she affirmed, laughing slightly at the thought of it.

"And what did you say?"

"I asked Evie if she liked the name."

"And Evie said...?"

"That she thought it was a beautiful name; just like her name and Thea's name are," (Y/N) couldn't contain her smile as she repeated what the three year old had said, "I also told Thea that we'd have to talk to you before the name gets set in stone."

"Ahh, ok," Tommy responded, and (Y/N) was almost able to see him nodding as he spoke.

A few beats of silence passed before (Y/N) spoke again: "so shall I set it in stone?" she asked in a joking manner, curious to hear what his response would be.

A bit of a muffled noise came from the other line, and it just about made (Y/N) burst into giggles at the thought of a facial expression he was wearing now. "We'll have to talk about it more when I come home," Tommy decided to end that topic of conversation in a cordial manner, deciding to move along to asking his wife what she'd been up to today.

(Y/N) happily told him about some of the things she'd been working on, talking to him for several more minutes with a wide smile on her face. She made her way into the master bedroom once the call was over, deciding to get ready to go to bed. The smile hadn't left her face as she found her way under the covers and turned the lamp off for the evening.

She had a strong feeling that Juniper was going to be the name of their third daughter.

"You'll make sure that my mum and the girls have all that they need here?" (Y/N) asked Frances for the umpteenth time as she and the older woman walked down the steps of the home. Tommy was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and (Y/N)'s mother was standing with Thea and Evie on either side of her next to the entrance of the front room.

"Yes, Mrs. Shelby. I will have everything under control here," Frances assured her for the umpeenth time, a kind smile on her face.

"Are you sure? Because I...I can stay back a little while longer to make sure..."

"That's not needed, love. Frances will have everything under control," Tommy cut into his wife's statement, stepping towards her so that he could rest his hand against the small of her back.

"But, but what if they need, what if the girls need something that isn't easy to be found?" she stumbled over her words, her brain filled with fog from the pregnancy, which oddly made it go into hyperdrive to make sure everything was squared away before she left.

"We'll find it, sweetheart, I'm sure," her mum assured her, a smile on her face, "you two need to go now...you're due."

"Ok...ok," (Y/N) nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as she glanced at Tommy before walking over to where her girls were standing. "Mummy and daddy have to go to the hospital now, but we promise we'll be home in just a few days," she explained to them, her voice soft; tone comforting.

The two children nodded their heads before they both gave their mother a hug and told her that they loved her. (Y/N) was just about tearing up when she stepped away from them.

"All ready?" Tommy asked, standing by the door with Frances next to him.

"Yes," (Y/N) breathed out, quickly wiping away her tears as she nodded and moved over to her mother for one last hug. She smiled as the older woman whispered words of encouragement, and that smile grew as she stepped back to look at the three members of her family that would be staying behind as she and Tommy went to the hospital to have their third baby. "We'll be home soon," she said to no one in particular as she moved over to where Tommy was standing. He helped her put her arms through her coat before leading her out of the house; Frances trailing behind with their suitcases.

The tears really started to fall as she heard their girls yelling their goodbyes to their parents, and Tommy made sure to take hold of her hand and give it a squeeze as he got in beside her and noticed her state.

Thea and Evie watched as the car rolled out of the driveway, waiting until it was completely out of sight to finally go back into the house. It wasn't until they returned to where some of their toys were situated in the front room that Thea noticed her little sister's forlorn expression.

"What's wrong, Evie?" she questioned, her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out what was wrong with her sister.

"I'm really scared, Thea," Evie wasted no time in sharing what she was feeling, "mummy's going to the hospital...only sick people go to the hospital. Is...is mummy sick?" she worked through her thoughts, hiccuping at the end, tears welling up in her eyes as she thought of her mother being sick.

"No, Evie, mummy's not sick," Thea was quick to dispel her worries, shaking her head as she spoke.

"Then why is she going to the hospital?" Evie asked through a frown.

"She's going to the hospital to bring baby Juniper home," Thea confidently stated.

Even though there hadn't been much more talk of what baby number three's name was going to be, Thea had been calling it either baby Juniper or baby Junie since she asked the question during dinner those few months back.

"How do you know that?" Evie had another question.

"Because she went to the hospital to bring you home," Thea answered like it was the easiest question in the world, setting her hands on Evie's shoulders after she finished speaking, "mummy's going to be ok, and the next time that we see her, baby Junie's going to be with her," she carefully explained, looking right into her sister's eyes as she spoke. "Are you excited to meet baby Junie?" she asked then.

"I am," Evie agreed through her sniffles, nodding her head for extra effect.

"Me too," Thea agreed, nodding also as a smile formed on her face. She loved being the big sister and making Evie feel better. "Do you want to play with dollies now?" she then suggested they go play. Evie nodded her head, wiping both of her eyes with the backs of her hand before Thea dropped her hands so that they could both go over to where their dolls were.

Rose, (Y/N)'s mother, sat on the couch and listened to the girls work through Evie's fears together. Her heart was swelling from the kindness and compassion that Thea was showing. It was so sweet to see the young girl help her sister work through her sad feelings.

True to what Thea had said, (Y/N) and Tommy returned home a few days later with a new member of the family in tow. Much like the last time, there was a 'Welcome Home' sign hung from the balcony in the foyer. This one, however, was a bit more personal...the girls had worked hard at creating it while their parents were at the hospital.

(Y/N) was first greeted by her mother, who came out of the front room the second she heard the door open. "Welcome home, darling," Rose greeted her daughter, a wide smile present on her face as she looked from her to the pink bundle that she was cradling in her arms. "Another girl?" she asked, joy filling her words.

"Another girl," (Y/N) confirmed, a teary-eyed smile present on her face. She glanced over her shoulder just as Tommy handed over the suitcases to Frances and came to stand by her side.

"Congratulations," Rose stated, looking between both of the parents as they smiled back at her.

"Where are the girls at?" Tommy asked, noticing that it had been too quiet in the room so far.

"In the front room. I'll go fetch them," Rose answered before she turned and hurried to go get Thea and Evie.

The sound of fast footsteps sounded off of the hardwood seconds later, and soon enough, the two girls were rushing into the foyer. "Mummy! Daddy!" they exclaimed in unison, excited to have their parents home again.

"It's so good to see you two again, my loves," (Y/N) greeted them with a wide smile, her heart just about ready to burst as they ran over to where she and Tommy were standing. They noticed that she was holding the baby in her arms, so they went to hug Tommy's legs first, making him bend down so that he could hug them both properly. "I hope you were both good for gigi while we were gone," she said then, looking from the girls over to her mother, who nodded her head with a smile on her face.

"Is that...is that baby sissy?" Evie asked once the hugs were over, awe present in her eyes as she stared up at the pink bundle.

"It is," (Y/N) nodded her head, turning slightly to the side to give the girls a better view of their sister.

"Do you like the sign that we made her?" Thea asked, a bright smile present on her face as she pointed up to the sign she was talking about. The words 'Welcome Home' were written in colorful letters, and there were pretty flowers, butterflies, and trees drawn all around them. If you looked carefully, you could also see where Thea had written 'Baby Juniper' in the bottom corner of the sign.

"I do...very much," (Y/N) nodded, laughing softly as she noticed the added words at the bottom, "would you like to meet your baby sister?" she asked as she looked at the girls again.

"Yes!" the children exclaimed in unison.

"Let's go into the front room so that we can sit with her," Tommy suggested, his heart also just about ready to burst as he watched all of his girls interact. Both Thea and Evie agreed with their father's suggestion, and the family then began walking to the front sitting room.

"Mummy..." Thea's voice stopped them before they could officially leave the foyer. She waited until both (Y/N) and Tommy were looking at her to continue with her question: "what's baby sissy's name?"

(Y/N)'s heart just about burst from her daughter's innocent question. She tried to contain her smile as she looked from the girls over to Tommy, seeing if he was ready to reveal the secret. He gave her a slight nod, and she nodded back before looking at Thea again. She held the dramatic pause for a few more moments, seeing the anticipation noticeably bubbling up in her daughters' features. Then, finally, she spoke again, "baby sissy's name is Juniper Anne Shelby."

The second the name graced Thea's ears, she began jumping for joy. The excitement quickly turned into tears of happiness as she realized that her biggest love was now the name of her littlest sister. It was the perfect fit.

"Are you happy, sweetheart?" (Y/N) questioned, now tearing up as she saw Thea's display of emotions.

"I'm so happy, mummy," Thea answered through her tears of joy, accepting the hug that Evie was already giving her.

"Would you like to come meet your sister?" Tommy asked from where he was sitting on the couch, the baby nestled contently in his arms.

"Yes," Thea answered, nodding her head vigorously as she moved over to (Y/N) to give her a big hug. "Thank you for naming her Juniper, mummy," she said, her words muffled into the fabric of (Y/N)'s dress, but everyone heard them loud and clear.

"We wanted her to have a beautiful name...just like your's and Evie's," (Y/N) smiled as she held Thea at arms-length. "Go on...meet her," she then nodded to the couch where Tommy, and now Evie, were sitting.

Thea only nodded before she hurried over to the empty spot on the couch, sitting on it and scooting as close to Tommy and the baby as she could without crowding the bundle. "Hello, baby Junie," she said softly as she reached out and ran her index finger over the baby's cheek, "I'm your big sister, Thea, and I'm so happy that you're part of my family."

Her words squeezed at everyone's hearts, and (Y/N) had to work hard not to just burst into tears as she watched her three daughters together.

Tommy looked away from Thea to find (Y/N) standing a few feet from the couch. He clocked her expression, which promptly made a lump form in his throat. Being surrounded by his girls filled him with an amount of love that he'd never experienced before. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve this beautiful family that he and (Y/N) had created, but was certain that he wouldn't have it any other way. He was a girl dad, and that was probably his greatest accomplishment.

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