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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago

Note

Can I request a Nicholas Chavez smut? Pleaseeee🙏🙏🙏😫 I was thinking maybe something where they have A LOT of sexual tension, and like they flirt and that stuff

Lovvvvv u💗

Just Friends— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

warnings— lots of flirting and sexual tension, oral(f), hand job, praise kink, ass slapping and grabbing, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, L bomb, fluff?

a/n— love you too, hope you enjoy my interpretation. yes it’s very long as usual, i had to capture the essence <3

Nicholas had been your friend for years, the type of friend who felt as familiar as ‘family’ but kept you on edge with the kind of sexual tension that always lingered just under the surface. You’d been there through his rise in the acting world, tagging along to premieres and red carpets as his “bestie.” Of course, all of your friends saw the way you two interacted, flirting that went far beyond innocent banter, lingering touches, and the looks you exchanged that seemed to say everything except “just friends.”

The first time he backed you up against a wall was at one of his movie nights. The rest of your friends were in the next room laughing over some game, but you and him had drifted to the kitchen for snacks. Somewhere between grabbing popcorn and pouring drinks, he leaned in close, his arm resting above your head, caging you in.

“You know, you’re a terrible influence,” he whispered, his face just inches from yours.

“Oh really?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Says the guy who’s about to be on his third cup of vodka.”

“No,” he murmured, voice low as his gaze fell to your lips, “I mean, the way you look at me.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. Your breaths mingled, his eyes locking onto yours as he leaned in closer, his lips an inch away from yours. But then he smirked, as if breaking the tension intentionally, and stepped back.

Moments like these happened all the time. Like the photoshoots you’d both do just for fun, candid snaps and Polaroids capturing the way you looked at each other. In one, you were staring at him, your hands on his shoulder while his was around you waist, pulling you close, and in another, he was giving you a look that made you feel like the only person in the world. Anyone who saw them would have sworn there was something going on, but you always waved it off.

In one instance, the two of you were back at his place after an event, still dressed up, the excitement of the night still thrumming through you. Nicholas loosened his tie, watching as you kicked off your heels and stretched out on his couch, looking up at him with a smirk.

“You keep looking at me like that,” you teased, “and I might start thinking you’ve got a little crush.”

He scoffed, but there was a glint in his eye. “Oh, please. If anyone here has a crush, it’s you.”

You laughed, pretending to scoff, but leaned forward. “Oh, really? Because last I checked, you were the one who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves tonight.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to,” he replied, his voice dropping, and he took a step closer until he was standing over you. He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of you. “And what if I said I don’t want to keep my hands to myself now?”

Your breath hitched as his lips hovered near yours, but you weren’t about to break eye contact. “Then what’s stopping you?”

He lingered, his eyes scanning your face before dropping to your lips. “Just making sure you’re as ready as you’re acting,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through you.

You felt a spark ignite, leaning up just enough so your lips almost touched his. “Nicholas, if you’re going to do something, now’s your chance.”

He grinned, biting his lip as if savoring the moment, but he pulled back, leaving you on edge. “Oh, I will. When you least expect it.”

Another night, you were at a friend’s place for a get-together, squeezed onto a crowded couch beside Nicholas. Someone made a joke about the two of you potentially being a cute pair and you rolled your eyes, but Nicholas just smirked, sliding an arm over your shoulder.

“Guess they’re onto us,” he whispered, leaning close to your ear so you felt the warmth of his breath. “Or maybe you’ve just made it too obvious you can’t resist me.”

You raised an eyebrow, nudging him lightly. “Resist you? Please, I’m just letting you hang around so I don’t break your heart.”

He chuckled, playing along. “Oh, yeah? Because I seem to remember a certain someone texting me at two in the morning, needing ‘company.’”

You felt your cheeks flush, but you shot him a quick, mischievous smile. “Company,” you retorted, “doesn’t mean anything more than a little late night fun.”

He tilted his head, giving you that same intense, teasing look. “Oh, so I’m just ‘late-night fun’ now?”

You shrugged, looking back at him with a challenging smile. “What can I say? You’re good for a laugh and a distraction.”

Nicholas laughed, pulling you a little closer. “Good thing I like a challenge.”

The “late night fun” you spoke of was just Nicholas helping you re decorate, watch your favorite tv show with you and continuing the banter.

Another time, you were at your apartment, watching a movie he had starred in on the couch. At some point, his arm settled across the back of the couch behind you, his fingertips lightly brushing your shoulder.

“You’re comfortable, right?” he asked, his tone smooth but a little too casual.

“Oh, absolutely,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “Unless you’re planning to do something that’d make me, uncomfortable?”

He smirked, his eyes dropping to your lips for a split second. “Only if you ask nicely.”

At a party, you’d both been teasing each other all night, throwing playful glances across the room. Later, in a quiet corner, he slid his hand down to your lower back as you leaned in close to talk.

“You know,” he whispered, “I think you like it when I drive you a little crazy.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm, maybe. But it’s nothing compared to what I could do to you.”

His eyebrow arched, a grin spreading across his face. “Is that a promise?”

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out,” you shot back, biting your lip.

“Dancing, huh?” you teased again as he pulled your flush against him to the rhythm of the music, meeting his eyes. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

He shrugged, but his grip tightened ever so slightly. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to hold you.”

Your heartbeat quickened, but you kept your cool. “You don’t need an excuse.”

His eyes darkened, his voice dropping lower. “Good to know.”

Another time, late one night after a fun evening, you and Nicholas were walking back to his car together. Your fingers brushed as you passed each other on the sidewalk, a simple touch, but it sent a shiver down your spine. As you both approached the car, he stepped in front of you, blocking your way for just a second before he opened your door for you.

His voice was soft, almost teasing, but there was an edge to it. “Are you sure you want to go back home alone tonight?”

You looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, and said, “Why? You worried about me?”

He stepped even closer, his lips almost brushing yours as he whispered, “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just not ready to let you go yet.”

After this, you were standing near a group of people at a Hollywood party, but Nicholas was leaning against the wall just across the room, watching you, his eyes following every move you made. When you turned to meet his gaze, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you staring at me?” you asked playfully, your voice carrying just enough edge to tease.

He didn’t break eye contact, his gaze darkening as he took a slow step toward you, his tone low. “Maybe. I’m just trying to figure out if the rest of them can see what I see.”

You took a step closer. “And what’s that?”

“That you’re mine,” he said, his lips brushing just barely against your ear as he leaned in close. “And I’m not sharing.”

“Yours?”

“Y-yeah, you’re my best friend after all.” You’d never seen him this flustered and you both just laughed it off.

The two of you kept playing that game, a series of almosts, leaving you both hungry for the moment one of you would finally make the move neither could take back. Then it happened.

The after-party of the event Nicholas invited you to was alive with flashing lights and the low hum of conversation as he scanned the crowd, searching for you. When he spotted you in the corner, his jaw clenched. You were backed against a wall, leaning into a conversation with some actor whose name he didn’t care to remember. Your gaze was all doe-eyed and captivated, the same way you looked at him whenever the two of you got a little too close.

Before he knew it, Nicholas was striding across the room, sliding between the two of you and placing a firm hand on your waist. “Mind if I steal her for a minute?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer, pulling you away with that possessiveness you’d never quite seen before.

As soon as you were away from the other guy, you couldn't help but tease him, looking up with a smirk. “What was that about? I thought we were just friends?”

“Friends, huh?” he murmured, a challenge glinting in his eyes. He didn’t let go of your waist, keeping you close as if daring anyone to interrupt again.

The two of you spent the rest of the night practically glued to each other. On the dance floor, you found yourselves moving in sync, his hands on your hips as you swayed, flush against each other’s body.The warmth and closeness, the way his fingers skimmed your skin, left you breathless.

By the time you left and climbed into the backseat of his car, both of you were a little tipsy, laughter spilling between flirtatious exchanges and you could feel your pulse racing.

As you stepped inside his house, you threw him a mischievous look, lips curling into a smirk. “You know, for all your big talk, you never actually follow through,” you teased, voice light and playful. “It’s almost like you’re scared.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, his gaze darkening as he backed you up against the door, one hand braced beside your head as he looked down at you, his mouth curving into a smirk of his own. “Careful now,” he murmured, his tone low and challenging. “Are you asking me to prove something?”

Your eyes widened, and you felt your heart hammering as you nodded slowly, almost daring him.

He leaned in, his voice a low growl against your ear. “Not so mouthy now, huh?”

And then his lips crashed against yours, and suddenly, every ounce of that simmering sexual tension between you two exploded. His kiss was intense, consuming, and you found yourself melting into it as his hands roamed your body, pulling you closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you felt him press you harder against the door. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you tangled together, caught in the heat of the moment.

He scooped you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you toward his room, lips barely parting as he navigated the hallway. You could feel the rush of his breath against your skin, hear the steady, quickening beat of his heart as he laid you down.

As you both caught your breath, you looked up at him, lips slightly swollen from the kiss, and managed to say, “Wow. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Nicholas chuckled, brushing a thumb along your jaw. “Likewise.”

His gaze softened slightly as he admitted, “I’ve waited way too long to do that.”

You smirked, leaning up to brush your lips over his again. “Well, you can do more.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he leaned back in, capturing your lips in another feral kiss. His hands were on you, warm and steady, slipping beneath your top and easing it off, then slipping off your mini skirt, leaving you in just your matching bra and panties. He paused for a moment, taking you in, and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Wow,” he murmured. “Who’d you dress up for like this? Someone in particular?”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Just—someone.”

“Who?” he pressed, a knowing glint in his eye.

You met his gaze and replied softly, “You.”

He smirked again, his fingers grazing over the straps of your bra before unclasping it, letting it slip from your shoulders. His eyes lingered as he gently pulled off your underwear, murmuring, “Lift your hips for me.”

As you did, he carefully slid it down, leaving you both breathless and wrapped up in each other, feeling that intensity settle into something unmistakably real.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, all naked for me, fuck,” he breathed, taking in the sight before him.

He leaned down, his mouth taking in your nipples and you gasped, feeling his tongue swirl and suck on it. Your hand went to his hair as he kneaded the neglected left breast and all you could do was moan as he continued.

“Mm— you like that baby? Yeah? You like when your best friend sucks on your juicy fucking tits?” he asked, in between sucking.

“Shut up and keep going.”

He did as he was told, then you felt a hand on your thigh, caressing you as you spread them open, practically begging him to touch you. You were soaked for him. A soft whimper left your lips as his fingers dipped inside your pussy.

“Jesus Christ, we’ve barely started and you’re soaked. You’re making a mess on my sheets, look.” Looking down you realized there was a large wet patch on his sheets and you closed your eyes, heat rising in your cheeks and between your legs.

“That’s okay baby, it’s gonna get even messier when I make you squirt all over it.”

You gasped and he took the opportunity to kiss you, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. His fingers began moving inside you rapidly, his palm grinding against your clit and making you feel pleasure beyond what you’d ever experienced before. Maybe it was the level of attraction and sexual tension between you finally overflowing, you didn’t know, but you were certainly enjoying it.

“Nicholas, I- I’m gonna—”

“Shh, I know baby, I can feel your tight pussy clenching around my fingers, cum for me.”

His mouth moved to your tits, suckling as his fingers curled inside you and you finally let go. You moaned his name as your pussy soaked his fingers, your orgasm taking you over so intensely that you were shaking.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it,” he praised, “finally being obedient for once.”

You rolled your eyes but they immediately rolled back, as Nicholas fell to his knees, his tongue on your clit. He laughed at your cockiness merging into pleasure, continuing to suck on your sensitive clit. He was a man starved, his mouth engulfing your pussy, making sure every part of it felt his tongue.

“God, Nick, I’m gonna cum again,” you whimpered.

“You taste like heaven sweetheart, cum again for me, I need to taste everything.”

He gripped under your thighs, slurping and sucking and soon, you granted his request, squirting in his mouth as he drank everything you had to offer. His fingers slipped inside your pussy and his tongue flicked your clit, guiding you through your high as you soaked his sheets, the patch growing larger and larger.

“I knew I could make you feel better than anyone else can,” he chuckled, sucking off his fingers.

Smirking, you leaned over to stroke his hard cock. He was decent. Oh, who were you kidding, he was fucking huge. Of course he was.

“Like what you see? You’re practically drooling baby,” he smirked. Soft whimpers left his lips as your warm hands stroked him and you spread the pre cum that was oozing from the tip.

“F-fuck, oh my god you’re hands feel so good around my cock,” he moaned, “as much as I’d love for you to stroke and suck me, I need to be inside you, now. I’ve waited so fucking long for this.”

Your arousal grew as his body went between your legs, your eyes locked on each other with the whole world ceasing to exist. He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your folds, the sound of your pussy squelching filling the room.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw because you’re mine, is that okay?”

“More than okay.” A cocky grin tugged at his lips and your jaw fell open as he pushed inside you slowly, inch by inch.

“Oh my god,” you moaned in unison.

Nicholas moved slowly, his touch tender but full of that same intense energy that had been simmering between you two for so long. As he pressed into you, it was like the culmination of every teasing look, every playful comment, every stolen moment, all building to this point.

You gasped softly, feeling the thrill of finally crossing that line. He stilled for a second, his forehead pressed against yours as he whispered, “You feel so perfect.” His hand found yours, fingers interlacing as he held on tightly, grounding you in the moment.

You exhaled shakily, barely able to form words. “Worth the wait?” you managed to tease, a small smile playing on your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “Better than I ever imagined.” He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his voice soft but full of meaning as he added, “You’re everything I wanted.”

With every thrust, the intensity built, the shared glances and flirting making each moment feel like the answer to everything you’d both been waiting for. It felt like more than just a moment, it felt like finally, the reward for all the pent-up desire and all the time spent dancing around what had always been between you.

Nicholas began moving with a more intense rhythm, each thrust deliberate and purposeful. The pleasure seemed to crest with each movement, both of you lost in the heat of the moment. His voice came out low and husky as he murmured, “You feel so damn good. I knew you would, with that fucking mouth of yours.”

A shiver ran through you as you whispered back, breathless, “And you— mm, you look so hot above me.”

His eyes darkened, and he leaned down, his hand sliding to your hip, steadying you as he picked up the pace even more. “Cum all over my cock,” he urged, his voice barely a whisper but filled with a mix of tenderness and demand. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

The pleasure built up, and with one final hard thrust, you let go completely.

“Nicholas,” you moaned, biting his shoulder in the rush of release.

“Ow— I’m so attracted to you,” he said, kissing your neck, “I’m not done with you yet, I want you to ride me.”

Without another word, you switched positions and you straddled him as he sat up, his back pressed against the large bed frame.

“You are breathtaking, you know that?” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I need you so bad,” you whimpered, sliding your pussy along his cock.

“I need you even more baby, now sit.”

Slowly, you sank on his cock feeling him slowly fill you up.

“You’re s-so big, god, just stretching me out,” you gasped.

You began riding his cock, your tits bouncing and his eyes went to them, mesmerized by the view before him. His lips went to your nipples, sucking as he grabbed your ass, guiding you to take his dick deep.

“Keep bouncing on my dick baby, just like that, don’t stop.”

Your bouncing sped up, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you.

“I’m close, I- I can’t hold it,” you screamed.

“Don’t hold it beautiful, let go for me, cum on my cock,” he demanded.

With a moan of his name, you draped your arms around his neck, grinding against him as your orgasm washed over you. He held onto you for dear life, his hands grabbing your ass as your pussy clamped around his cock and your juices soaked him.

“Good girl, that’s my baby,” he moaned, “I want my baby to cum one more time, turn around and ride my cock again so I can see that fat ass bounce.”

You whimpered as you turned around, his cock still inside you, the feeling of it swirling inside you making your head spin. He slapped your ass, startling you.

“God, this fucking ass. Could you tell when I’d let my hands brush over it? How I’d have my hands on your lower back teasing lower and lower?”

You couldn’t even form coherent words, the feeling of him so deep inside you was the only thing you cares about.

“Bounce that ass on my dick,” he added, slapping your ass harshly.

Your ass slammed onto him, little moans leaving your lips as your hands were on his legs, propping yourself up.

“Fuck, fuck fuck, oh my god Nick,” you cried out.

“That’s it baby, moan for me, scream my fucking name. You waited so long for this, make it fucking worth it.”

His hips began thrusting up, meeting your ass as he kept slapping your ass cheeks moving from left to right, willing you to bounce faster.

“This tight pussy is just gripping my cock. I’ve got such a good view. It’s just sucking me in, so tight around me,” he moaned, watching your pussy glide on him.

“You feel so good, filling me up so much,” you croaked out.

He grabbed your ass, his hips still slamming against your ass, the sound of skin slapping making his cock even harder. Suddenly, your knees gave out and he continued thrusting up into you.

“Give me one more sweetheart, cum on my cock, soak these fucking sheets,” he demanded.

Your fingers dug into his legs and you soaked his cock and the sheets, your orgasm ripping through you like a sharp knife.

“What a horny little girl, so good for me, now it’s my turn.”

He held you down, his hand going to the back of your neck and pushing you into the mattress as you arched your back. He slammed into you harshly, slapping your ass and moaning your name as he chased his orgasm.

“Shit, where do you want my cum princess?”

“Inside me, please Nicholas, I need your cum inside me,” you begged, gripping the soaked sheets.

“Fuck baby, are you sure?” he asked.

“I’m s-sure, just please, I need your cum in me, now.”

You didn’t have to tell him a third time, he pressed you into the bed, his cum filling you up, the warm feeling making you both moan in content.

“Yes, yes, shit,” he whimpered, his voice shaky.

He flipped you over, your body landing on top of him and he quickly plugged your pussy with his cock again, preventing any of his cum from leaking out.

The two of you lay there, bodies entangled, your head resting on his chest as you both caught your breath. Every unspoken word, every stolen glance over the years, had led to this moment, and the weight of it felt as satisfying as it did intense. The quiet between you was comfortable, filled only by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

Nicholas’ hand trailed gently up and down your back, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “That was a long time coming,” he murmured, his fingers brushing through your hair. “All that teasing, all those ‘just friends’ glances, guess it had to break eventually.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, feeling his warmth and the closeness of the moment settling around you. “Guess you’re not as good at resisting me as you thought.”

He chuckled, pulling you a little closer. “Can you blame me? You’re impossible to ignore.” He paused, then pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his expression growing a bit more serious. “You’re amazing, you know that? And, that was amazing.”

As he spoke, his eyes softened, and he looked at you with a depth that made your heart skip a beat. “I love you,” he said, voice barely more than a whisper, but carrying the weight of everything he’d been holding back.

Your breath caught as you met his gaze, eyes wide in surprise. But the sincerity in his eyes, the way he held you close, made everything fall into place. “I- I love you too, Nicholas,” you replied, your voice just as quiet but filled with certainty.

He smiled, his hand cupping your cheek as he drew you in for another kiss, one that was slow, tender, and filled with the promise of everything yet to come.

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lovemomhatepolice · 10 hours ago

Text

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 days ago

Text

Enemies (Part Four) (Rafe Cameron)

Description: Takes place during episode 9

Word Count: 1,820

Warning: Smut

Part One Part Two Part Three

The arms around her kept her safe. Nobody and no thought could hurt her when she was in these arms. A savior or even an angel that was sent to protect her from harm's way. The arms that were keeping her safe through the night belong to Rafe Cameron.

Her eyes opened and she groaned as her body ached of sweet release and pain. She sighed and snuggled back into the arms of Rafe. “Rafe.” She tried to say but her voice was scratchy thanks to him. He chuckled and kissed the back of her head.

She turned in his arms and faced him with a glare. “Pretty awesome way to lose your voice.” He states with a cocky smirk. “Screaming my name as I fuck you over and over again.” He teased knowing her body wasn’t up for it. “You’re a dick.” She managed out but there was a playfulness to her tone. She leaned over and kissed him with a smile on her face.

The Pogues hadn’t heard from her in a few days. They didn’t even see her run and they didn’t even know that she was with Rafe. But as much as they loved her they were glad she was not there with them. Running from the cops.

JJ was okay but both him and Pope were in big trouble. Sarah wanted to tell her the big secret but hoped that she was okay. Y/N had no idea that her friends were in danger while she fucked the enemy.

Hollis was dead and Rafe was pacing around the living room. Y/N on the couch watching him. “It wasn’t JJ.” Rafe said like he for sure knew. “It was Groff and he took my money.” Y/N knew that it wasn’t JJ but the Groff thing kind of surprised her.

Rafe told her everything about Hollis and Groff. “Okay so we should go tell the police.” She told him. “Yeah but first let’s take a walk.” He says and she smiles.

“I can’t believe JJ did that.” Y/N whispered. Rafe grabbed her hand and she didn’t pull away. She stared at the ground as they walked when Rafe noticed the cops. “Quick over here.” She gasped as she saw her friends trying to steal a boat. “Rafe.” She whispered. They ducked down and could hear them talk. “They know where Groff is.” She whispered. “Don’t make it known you're here.” He warns her as the cops try to arrest them. She smiled as she saw them take their boat. Her friends were dumbasses but she loved them.

“So you’ll take us to look for the treasure?” She asked with hope in her eyes. “I want my money but if that’s what it takes then yes.” He plays with the ring he has in his pocket that was his moms. He knew it was too soon so he was gonna take it with them just in case. “I’ll get the cops off their back and I’ll take you guys to wherever Groff is at.” He promises. She kisses him as a thank you and puts her hope and faith into him. He pulls away from the kiss, “Do you know where they are hiding?”

Shoupe arrives before Rafe and Y/N do and he’s about to take away JJ and Pope. They had no other end and no saving or plan at this point. Sarah gasps as she sees Y/N and her brother? “Y/N?” She asks in shock and everyone turns to see her and Rafe.

Her nerves about what they would think did not hit until they noticed her. She knew of Rafe’s plan but they did not. “I can take them to get Groff.” Everyone besides Y/N was shocked at his words. He had convinced Shoupe to let them go and find Groff. After Shoupe had left the others turned to Y/N, “So that’s where you were?” Kie asked.

Y/N’s face was red, this wasn’t how she wanted them to find out. “Look I was keeping her safe while you guys were out being criminals.” He put an arm around Y/N who didn’t push him away. “Look we can talk about this later we got a crown to find.” John B said.

The boat was huge and nothing like she’s ever stayed on. All of the Pogues were happy that this was happening but felt uneasy around Rafe. “I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t trust him. We don’t trust him.” JJ said. “He got us this boat and is taking us to find the treasure. He doesn’t want it, He wants the money Groff took from him.” She exclaims. Rafe could hear them and he smiled at her words.

“Y/N do you actually believe that?” John B asked her. Sure Rafe wasn’t such a good person but after everything with JJ and Groff it wasn’t unbelievable that he would do something like that. “Yes. Groff is shitty.” “That doesn’t mean that Rafe isn’t lying.” She sighs. “Then go talk to him.” She told the group. “Except you.” She said to JJ who looked at her in disbelief. “I agree with her on that one.” Kie said. Everyone besides JJ goes to Rafe who was stirring the boat.

“Rafe.” Y/N said his name and he turned to find everyone with her. She walked up to him and let John B talk. Peace was never an option with JJ who knocked Rafe out. “JJ!” Y/N yelled at him. She got on the ground to check on him. “I would have done it if he didn’t.” Pope said, causing Y/N to glare. “I’m sorry Y/N but we don’t trust your boyfriend.” “He doesn’t want the crown! He wants the money that Groff took from him!” She yelled at her friends. “Why don’t you believe me?” “It’s not you, we don’t believe it’s him.”

Rafe woke up and was tied up. Sarah decided to bring him the food. “They don’t trust you, Rafe. Only Y/N does.” “I want to see her.” He tells her. “She won’t untie you.” Though Y/N really wanted to. “Let me see her.” He said, ignoring her. Sarah sighs and gets Y/N.

Y/N walks in the room and sits by him. “I want to let you go but they would kill me or you might kill them.” He chuckled at her words. “I told you I wanted to be a better person. You’re making that easy but they are making that hard.” She lays her head on his shoulder and sighs, “I wish that they could see that you’re telling the truth.”

Though she knew that they had no right too. He did awful things to them so why would they? Sarah had said that to him and it stuck in his mind. Y/N stayed down there with him until she was hungry, she told him that she would be back later and before he could protest, she was gone.

“Why him?” Kie asked as she and Sarah ate with Y/N. “There is so much I never told you guys.” She told them everything. How Rafe approached her at a party and would never leave her alone. How he would constantly follow her even when she tried to push him away. How he asked her to be with him multiple times. How he was there for her.

“Wow.” Kie said and Sarah gave her a little smile. “Depending on how this goes. I might give you my blessing.” They all laugh. “So wait, are you guys together?” Kie asked. Truth be told they never put a label on it but it seemed as if they were. “Well yeah. I would take what’s going on between us like that.” She shrugged.

“So I was thinking that since you’re tied up and you can’t do anything I will do this.” He gasps as she unzips his pants. “You’re being serious right now?” He asked. She didn’t respond and pulled out his dick, which was very hard. She looks up at him, “You’re asking me that? I’m not the one who’s hard as a rock.” She teases and runs her thumb over the tip.

He sucks in a deep breath as her hand moves up and down his dick. She watches him as he bites his lip to keep from moaning. The others did not need to know what was going on. Her hand moves faster and he lets out a little whimper, “shit.” She smirks and lowers her head until his tip was near her mouth.

Her hand slowing down. He thrusts his hips up and she sits up again, “Rafe you aren’t in any position to call the shots.” She teases and he huffs. “Come on Y/N.” He begs. Her hand stops moving and Rafe almost whines. “I have THE Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron whining for me to suck his cock.” She says and lays down so that she is on her stomach. Her hands placed on his thighs as licks up his dick. He sighs in pleasure at the feeling.

She smirks and takes the tip in her mouth. Her tongue ran along it. He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as she finally gave him what he wanted. His dick was finally in her mouth as she gave him the craziest blowjob of his life. She hummed on him causing the vibration to shoot straight up his body.

Oh how he wished that he could run his hands through her hair. He was moaning like he was in heat as his high was approaching. “Fuck Y/N. I’m close!” He moaned out. She didn’t stop until he was cumming down her throat. She pulled off of him and swallowed every drop he gave her. She wiped her mouth and sighed. “That was kinky” She said and he laughed.

“That was hot.” He said and she leaned in and kissed him. But before their lips could touch the boat started going crazy. “What the hell?” He said. She went to get up and check but fell down and the red alert went off. “I have to get you free.” She said and tried standing again. She gripped the wall for support and went out the door.

“Kie hand me a knife.” Kie looked for one in the drawers and gave it to her. Y/N got back to Rafe and cut him loose. They made their way out of there and to the others. She heard John B yelling and ran out to where he was, Rafe following her. “Sarah.” Rafe yelled and tears built up in Y/N’s eyes. She saw JJ throw a raft in the water and tell Sarah he was coming. “JJ it’s too dangerous.” Y/N yells at him but he jumps in the water. Y/N watches as the waves cover her friends and she lets out a sob. Rafe pulls her to his chest as she starts screaming and crying all over again.

#obx #outer banks #outer banks season 4 #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #drew starkey #obx s4

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wangxianficfinder · 2 days ago

Text

Fic Finder

Nov 9th

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1. I'm looking for a fic that I swear I bookmarked！It's a modern AU where WWX has been dead for (13?) years in a world where people are starting to spontaneously resurrect from the dead (in a not zombie way). He finds his way back to LWJ and A-Yuan. I think near the end of the fic they get news that JYL has also been revived. @needleinthenonsense

FOUND!🔒💖 sudden nature series by everbrighter (M, 97k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, 5+1, family feels, parenthood, teenage rebellion, past character death, resurrection, pining, domestic fluff, angst, happy ending)

NOT FOUND!🔒care by everbrighter (T, 35k, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, modern w/ magic, resurrection, family bonding, getting to know each other, past character death, pining)

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2. Hi!! This is my first time using Tumblr so I hope I’m doing this right… I read a fic (Ao3) where Lan Zhan was getting rid of a water spirit in the lake in Caiyi city (i think). Wei Yīng said something dirty and LWJ was going to retort when he was sucked underwater. He thought he was gonna die but soon got caught under like this wheel thingy where he was pulled up and his shoulder dislocated. He had wounds and was only saved thx to WWX using demonic cultivation. I have some screenshots if needed! @plumblossom-15339

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3. Hello, lovely people! I'm desperately looking for a fic I read in February, where lwj gets himself stuck as a bunny and iirc wwx is hired by lxc to bunnysit and because wwx had nowhere to live he was happy to accept. It might have been modern with cultivation. All I have is this quote I sent my friend: "And then Wei Ying had accepted! Lan Zhan was so overwhelmed that, just for a moment, his rabbit body took over, and he’d ended up doing a binky." Pls help!

NOT FOUND!🔒💖 blue-ribbon bunny by cicer (G, 15k, wangxian, modern, shapeshifting, supernatural elements, fluff & humor)

FOUND! the soft animal of your body by sysrae (T, 15k, WangXian, modern cultivation, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Animal Transformation, Shapeshifting, Getting Together, Confessions)

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4. I'm looking for a fic where the lan and possibly the nie fought a war with the Jiang and jin and WY was one of the Jiang commanders. The Jiang lose and WY and LZ enter into a relationship. I remember a scene where the Jiang were on trial after the war and WY noted that JC looked shocked that he's being prosecuted possibly for war crimes @maryam25

FOUND? 🔒 Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending)

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5. Hello, thank you for your hard work 🙏 I'm looking for a fic where Wen Qing poisons Wen Ruohan, Wen Chao, Wen Zhuliu and Wang Lingjiao with berries that induce Qi deviation. Basically everyone but Wen Xu, who is in love with his brother's wife, because WRH punished him by having her marry WC. And I think instead of assuming leadership of the Wen sect he leaves with her. That's all I can remember. Thank you so much!

FOUND? The Teenage Girl's Self-Saving System by mercyandmagic (T, 108k, WLJ/WC, WLJ/NMJ, wangxian, XiYao, XuanLi, ChengQing, OC main character, transmigration, everyone’s least fave characer gets character development!)

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6. hello! thankyou so much for you hard work. please help me find a fic that i've been looking for days now, in this fic wwx and lwj time went back to time as kids, as far as i remember they had their memories with them and both of their parents are alive in here. kid wwx told his parents to go to gusu, and when they went, he was greeted by kid lwj who remembered him and hugged him (lwj's family was shocked because their non affectionate boy was hugging someone) pls pls help me find it

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7. Hello! I was hoping you could help me find a fic, I don’t remember much of it. But i remember it took place during wei yings time in gusu in the cloud recess arc. i could be wrong on some details but from my memory it has the lans finding out about some negative aspect of wei yings life in yunmeng and the abusive treatment he dealt with. he is then welcome in cloud recesss bc they see how smart and kind he is. i remember specifically there was an oc that was a lan elder who was very un-lan like. he was very loud very much what u would expect from a character that’s similar to wei ying. he became wei yings shifu so to speak. they would invent things together. they were both known for blowing up things a lot. the lan healers mentioned once how the jiang healers definitely knew about the abuse wei ying was subjected to. and that they would be bringing up them not living up to their duties as healers at a conference or something. and that not helping wei ying in the abusive situation was a major taboo amongst all the healers and there would be repercussions for that. i think they mention that wei ying is often in the back of cloud recess where all the elders lives. like he’s just always around that general area. it’s kind of jiang bashing and then also positive/protective lans. that’s all i can remember so sorry if that’s vague i just really enjoyed reading it and can’t find it for the life of me. thanks for any help u can give me!! and as always thanks so much for all ur hard work 💕💕💕

FOUND?🔒in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric) the eccentric lan elder that teaches wwx shows up in ch 11

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8. Hello! I'm looking for a fic in which wwx is summoned back by xue yang instead of mo xuanyu and wwx runs around pretending to be xue yang but he actually managed to change xue yang body into his own and just wear a fake face. I think Jiang yanli was summoned back too by Qin su and was the one to make xue yang summon wwx into his body

FOUND? the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, wangxian, qingli, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, slightly dark!JYL, wq lives because i said so, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, manipulative relationship (background xiyao))

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9. Hey!! It's been a while. I hope all of you are doing great.

I'm looking for this fic where Wei Wuxian is in an arranged marriage with Lan Wangji and the only significant thing I remember about it is that Wei Wuxian breaks something that belonged to Lan Wangji's mother and he gets angry I think (?) Also, Wei Wuxian goes to Caiyi Town and comes back to apologize.

I'm so sorry. I know this isn't enough to go by, but this is all I recall. If you can find it, that would be great.

Thank you in advance. @poetic-writes

Hi! I'm number 9 on the latest fic finder. That fic rec is not the one I was looking for, but that fic is really good, and I'm thankful for whoever who assumed it was that particular one. As I mentioned in my ask is that Wei Wuxian breaks something that belongs to Lan Wangji and the latter is really sad and says something rude to Wei Wuxian I think on the lines of him being as bad as everyone had said and it kind of takes away the spirit entirely from Wei Wuxian and the light in his eyes dim. Thank you again.

NOT FOUND!🔒 Light of Stars (and the Destroyer) by Sanguis (T, 22k, WangXian, Legends, Arranged Marriage, Pining, Pining for your spouse, Adoption, Canon Divergence, Married Couple)

I've read number nine before but I don't remember the name! i have more details tho: lan wangji says that wei ying is as bad as jiang cheng says! wei ying locks himself in a room and cries a lot

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10. oh lovely folk- please can you help me? for the next fic finder- i’m remembering a WY sent to marry royal(i believe) LW. Madame Yu whips him before he travels to capitol. Meng Yao has suspicions and leaves him locked in a room not knowing WY is injured. does this ring a bell?

FOUND? The Bloodthirsty Prince and his Bride by moss_enthusiast (M, 27k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending Violence, Anxiety, Royalty, Strangers to Lovers, Arranged Marriage, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Whipping, Blood and Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Blood and Violence, Dark LWJ, Fluff, Angst and Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Shock, Anxiety Attacks) i am really unsure cause there is no Meng Yao as far as i remember, but this contains arranged marriage (where WY is sent instead of JYL ro marry prince LWJ) and highly abusive Madam Yu who whips WY a lot, and LWJ finds him hurt and passed out in the wedding bedroom after the ceremony. Recovery abd revenge included later.

FOUND?🔒The Imperial Compromise by shiroakuma (E, 61k, WIP, WangXian, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Royalty, YLLZ WWX, Concubine WWX, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Emperor LXC, everyone but LXC thinks WWX is to be his concubine, LXC Ships WangXian, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Intersex Omegas, Intersex Alphas, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort)

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11. I am back once again asking for your excellent help in finding a fic. It's an AU, where a previous emperor ordered Lan Zhan & Wei Ying to marry. Lan Zhan is an imperial official (in the tax department i think). There is a war with the Wen going on and Wei Ying is ordered off to fight. Everyone thinks WY is either dead or MIA, but when the war is won, LZ goes to oversees a prisoner exchange and finds WY who has been on a work gang in a mine all this time (with A-Yuan who he's adopted & Mo Xuanyu). I remember MianMian is the brilliant general on the winning side. You find out that LZ & WY basically fell in love right before WY got shipped off to war, so it's a happy reunion. Oh! Also, LZ writes very popular poetry under a pseudonym! Um...i remember that LZ bought WY a goat they called Amethyst because before he was disappeared WY wrote LZ expressing the wish for such a goat (LZ buys the whole herd in the end). Jiang Yanli and the Peacock are married and are the new empress and emperor. There's an epilogue or end note where the author gives info about how their life turned out - this is all in the 500s CE. As always, i can't remember the title or who the writer is, so HELP! Thank you so much!

FOUND! ❤️ Where the nightingales are singing, and a white moon beams. by Moominmammashandbag (M, 52k, wangixan, jin zixuan & lan wangji, no powers au, grief/mourning, aftermath of war, angst w/ happy ending, reunions, fluff & smut)

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12. I don't know if you still help finding fics about wanxian... but just in case, I would like to ask your help... I'm looking for a fic where wei wuxian and lan wangji are divorced, I think? and that lan wangji is a doctor and wei wuxian is like a secret agent or undercover agent with wein qing and wen ning. But then wei wuxian got shot at one of his undercover missions and as he was delirius and thought he was going to die anyway, he went to his ex husband's house and lan wangji, being a doctor fixes or provided first aid to wei wuxian. Turned out that lan wangji is still in love with him and they talk... it was not finished when I read it. But it was a good story full of angst... I hope you would bw able to help me find it.thank you in advance @etutb

FOUND? empty space beside me by scarletmoontears. I have a link but it doesn't work so I'm guessing the work was removed or locked. (I think it's removed, I logged in and clicked the link but still got the error message - Mod C)

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13. Hello! I've been pulling my hair out trying to find a wangxian fic. Unfortunately, I can't remember too much about it, but I believe it's a modern/university setting. The only scene I can remember is WWX going with LWJ to visit his uncle and brother. They live rather far and on a hill. LWJ doesn't visit often, and this visit is very tense between WWX and LQR. Something about past WWX doing to LWJ, or causing LWJ to get into trouble when they were younger. Anyway, LWJ then gets angry with his uncle about the treatment directed towards WWX. I also can't remember if baby a-yuan is in this fic and present during the visit, as sometimes fics blend together. I apologize if this isn't enough to go by, but I just randomly recalled this fic, and apparently, I did not bookmark it.

FOUND? ❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, wangxian, modern w magic, college/university au, fake/pretend relationship, single parent WWX, homophobia, light angst w/ happy ending, idiots to lovers, fluff)

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14. Hi. Im looking for a wangxian fic, where Wuxian had openly confessed to Wangji persistently until he dies in the seige. And then when he comes back in Mo Xuanyu's body, its wangji whose doing the confessing. Wuxian is sad sometimes, I think. @thatpantasticbitch

FOUND? When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX confesses early on, But canon still happens, LWJ starts confessing after, but the tables have turned, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ rejects WWX, Then gets rejected by WWX after, "Get Lost", Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

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15. For fic finder, there was one specific fic - it may have been part of a series? - and I believe it was likely on the longer end, and may have involved time travel? The part I’m looking for is that in either WQ or WY’s POV, it explicitly acknowledges that wq and wy coparented LSZ while in the BM. If it helps, I solely read canon dynamics! @lovelyiknow

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16. hello for fic finder im looking for a fic where jyl married wq's mom i think? it's also time travel iirc. ive tried finding it in my history but alas. id really appreciate the help, thank you!

FOUND! 死而无悔 (To Die Without Regret) series by liverbiver9 (T, 26k, JYL & WWX, JYL/OC, WN & WWX & WQ, WangXian, JYL & WN, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, JYL-centric, POV JYL, Genderqueer WWX, Trans Male Character, Kid Fic, Child WWX, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Found Family, WWX is a Wen technically, Demonic Cultivation, Falling In Love, Assassination Attempt(s), WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, teen wangxian feature in the epilogue!, No Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, Everybody Lives, except for WRH and his children, mentioned minor character death, Gender Non-Conforming WWX, Trans WWX, Canonical Character Death, Time Travel Not A Fix-It, I make it kind of worse but kind of better?, YLLZ JYL, Demonic Cultivator JYL, Sect Leader JYL, Short & Sweet, Angst implied happy ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending)

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17. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian is in a zombie or apocalyptic setting. Wwx gets bitted and lwj is desperate to find a cure of some kind in a hospital but in the lwj has to kill wwx of smth like that. Thanksss!

FOUND? 🔒 when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations)

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18. Hi, I forgot to bookmark this one but I remember that Wei wuxian lived but his soul was shattered like he was a lived but he wasn't acting like himself before and eventually he starts committing suicide and lan wangji was protecting him and caring for him until he successfully kill himself, lan wangji takes care of him for 13 years(it's and happy ending) @lanwuxian0725

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19. hi i was hoping u could find a fix for me i’m p sure it was like a dark!lz fic. i think he may have traveled back in time to protect wwx and stop his death. when he travels back he is in his own body as a child. and lan qiren is like freaked out by him bc lwj remembers how badly lan qiren treated wwx in the past so he’s like not rly trying to hard to seem normal or that he likes his family. but i think they take in wwx before jfm can and lan qiren in this environment rly likes wwx treats him rly well but bc lz freaks him out and is weirdly possessive of wwx lan qiren is like constantly scared for wwx and is like always keeping an eye on them. like kind of the opposite of canon he looks at lan zhen like he’s corrupting his favorite student (wwx). the whole fic lan zhan is like obsessed with wei ying in a way that is like scary to everyone else (except wwx). i don’t rly remember more then that. hopefully someone can help me out i keep thinking about this and can’t find it. i rly need to learn to bookmark things. pretty sure it was from lan zhans perspective but i could be wrong. thank u sm hope everyone’s having a good day today!! 💕

NOT FOUND A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

FOUND! 🔒Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ, Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, Blood and Violence, a lot of people die, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, because of, Shameless LWJ, LQR Tries, to fit into the following tag, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian's version of it, Scheming NHS, POV NHS)

~*~

20. hi i’m trying to find a fic i read once where wwx stays in all the different sects for like a season or something on behalf of his sect to prove he isn’t like a danger to the cultivation world. it may have been multiple chapters but he goes to all of them and helps in various ways. i believe it was after the war in his first life. back when everyone was scared of him. sorry if that’s not enough info i can’t remember anything else tbh thanks for ur help 🥺

FOUND? Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 42k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JZX & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, protective Jiang siblings, Unreliable Narrator, due to WWX assuming ppl hate him, JYL is gonna dropkick her baby bro into having friends)

FOUND? The "Patriarch" Was Supposed to be Ironic (or, Wei Wuxian, Chief Cultivator) by groignequi (E, 51k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, JC/NHS/WQ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, jiang friendly, Not Everyone Dies, Really Most People Live (Except JGS), Chief Cultivator WWX, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, sort of (at a canon-typical wangxian level), Dom/sub Undertones, Protective Siblings, Nonbinary NHS, POV Multiple)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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chelseaknoo · 2 days ago

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OKAY, SO HOW ABOUT THIS IDEA: The reader is Eminem’s assistant (with major office siren vibes), and Marshall quickly becomes intrigued by her. He finds her serious, focused personality incredibly attractive and can’t resist flirting with her at every opportunity. While she finds his advances annoying and stays professional, underneath it all, there’s a spark she tries to ignore.And at the end they end up together 😍😍😍

Eminem x assistant!Reader

Caution: sexual content ♡

Note:this is the most creative request I’ve ever seen…And I love it!

The famous Detroit rapper, Eminem, was your boss��and working as his assistant was nothing short of stressful. It wasn’t just the demands of the job that made it challenging; it was the fact that your boss seemed to have a noticeable attraction toward you.

He often flirted openly, dropping sly comments and playful remarks, sometimes catching you off guard when you were trying to focus. His advances weren’t limited to private settings either—he’d casually ask you out on dates even in front of his friends, leaving you flustered and unsure of how to respond.

One memorable incident occurred when you accidentally dropped a stack of papers. As you bent down to pick them up, you felt the unmistakable touch of his hand coming into harsh contact with your ass. Turning around quickly, you met his mischievous smirk. "Couldn’t help myself," he had said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.

Despite how overwhelming his behavior could be, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. You tried to maintain a professional exterior, brushing off his advances and focusing on the work at hand. But deep down, his charm was difficult to ignore. Every teasing word, every lingering glance, left a tension between you that neither of you could deny.

One day, while you were busy at the printer, you heard Marshall call out, "Hey, come over here for a sec." Sighing and feeling a bit irritated, you left your work and walked over to him.

“What is it, Marshall?” you asked, trying to keep the impatience out of your voice.

He leaned back in his chair, giving you a playful look. "Come sit on my lap," he said, patting his leg as if it were the most casual request in the world.

Your eyes narrowed. “Absolutely not,” you replied, crossing your arms defiantly.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Alright, but I might have to dock a little of your pay if you don’t."

You hesitated, glaring at him. “Are you serious?”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “I’m always serious,” he replied with a mischievous grin. You knew he was probably joking, but the thought of him actually cutting your pay made you huff in annoyance.

Reluctantly, you lowered yourself onto his lap, trying to keep your posture as stiff and professional as possible. Sitting there, you couldn’t help but notice how close his face was to your chest, and the look in his eyes made your cheeks warm.

"There. Happy?" you asked, avoiding his gaze.

Marshall gave a low chuckle, clearly pleased with himself. "Very," he replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looked up at you. “You’re always so serious… It’s kinda cute, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back. "Are you done now?"

He shrugged, still smirking. “Maybe… but I think I’m starting to like having you this close.”

Despite yourself, you felt a small flutter of excitement. But you kept your expression neutral, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under your skin.

He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against your neck as his lips brushed softly over your skin. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your resolve slipping. His hand moved up to gently caress the soft locks of your hair, his fingers threading through with surprising tenderness. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you found yourself blushing, unable to ignore the rush of feelings that washed over you.

Marshall lifted his head and looked into your eyes, a mix of mischief and sincerity flickering in his gaze. Before you could say anything, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. You felt your heart race, and despite every intention to keep things professional, you couldn’t help but melt into the moment.

His other hand cupped your face, and you instinctively reached up, placing one of your hands on the side of his face. The stubble on his jawline tickled your fingertips, grounding you in the reality of what was happening. The kiss deepened, growing more intense, as if the two of you were releasing every unspoken word and every stolen glance that had built up between you.

When you finally pulled away, your breaths were ragged, and neither of you spoke for a moment. Marshall’s thumb traced small circles on your cheek, and he gave you a lopsided grin. "You know," he murmured softly, "you really do drive me crazy."

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say, but knowing deep down that everything between you had just changed in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Without another word, you found yourself leaning back into the kiss, your hand sliding around to the back of his neck to pull him closer. The chair creaked under his weight, but it didn’t matter—you were lost in the moment. His hand slipped from your hair to the small of your back, drawing you closer still, until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. The feeling was overwhelming, but in that moment, all you could do was give in to it.

Marshall’s hands began to roam, exploring the curves of your body with an urgency that seemed to match your own. You felt his hand move up to your waist, and he began to lift you up slightly, adjusting you on his lap so that you were straddling him. The fabric of your skirt rustled as you moved, and you felt a thrill at the thought of someone walking in on you—the scandal of it all.

The chair groaned in protest as you shifted your weight, but you were too lost in the sensation of his hands on your body to care. His kisses grew more demanding, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that made your head spin. You could feel his desire pressing against you, and it was all you could do not to moan out loud.

Your own hands found their way under his shirt, feeling the warm, firm planes of his abs. His skin was surprisingly soft, and you couldn’t help but trace your fingertips over the tattoos that adorned his body. He sucked in a sharp breath as you touched a particularly sensitive spot, and you felt a surge of power knowing that you could elicit such a reaction from him.

Marshall’s hands moved up to your low cut blazer, deftly unbuttoning it with one hand while his other arm held you steady.

He broke the kiss for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as they searched yours for permission. You nodded, your own eyes glazed with lust, and he took that as the invitation he needed. His mouth descended to your neck, kissing and nipping as he unbuttoned your shirt and pushed it aside to expose your black lace bra. His hand slipped under the fabric to squeeze your flesh gently, and you gasped at the contact.

The chair rocked slightly as he adjusted you on his lap, his hands moving to the clasp of your bra. With a swift motion, he unhooked it, and it fell away, revealing your breasts to the cool office air. He took one in his hand, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak before taking it into his mouth. You threw your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips, as the sensation sent waves of pleasure through your body.

Your own hands had been busy, too—they found the hem of his shirt and began to lift it over his head, revealing his toned torso and the tapestry of tattoos that covered his chest. You traced the ink with your fingertips, feeling the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart beneath. His muscles flexed as he removed the shirt entirely, tossing it aside.

With your bodies now fully engaged, you both seemed to be in a silent understanding of where this was heading. You reached down and unbuckled his belt, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. The button of his pants followed, and you slid the zipper down, freeing his hardened length. He groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing the soft mound of your breast as he tasted you.

You pushed his pants and boxers down, and he adjusted his position, lifting you slightly to align your bodies. The anticipation was thick as you felt the head of his erection at your entrance. The chair’s leather was cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building between you. With a gentle thrust, he filled you, and you couldn’t help but gasp as you took him in.

The chair rocked rhythmically under the weight of your passion, the sound muffled by the thick office carpet. His hands gripped the armrests tightly as he began to move his hips, his eyes locked on yours, searching for every sign of pleasure. You wrapped your legs around him, grinding down to meet each thrust, the friction sending sparks of sensation through your core.

The leather of the chair was cold and unforgiving against your bare skin, but the heat from Marshall’s body and the passion burning between you was more than enough to warm you. Each time he entered you, a gasp would escape your lips, and he seemed to take it as a challenge to make the next one louder.

Your hands had moved from his neck to his broad shoulders, gripping tightly as his hips drove into you. The chair groaned in time with your movements, the rhythmic sound a testament to the intensity building within. The office around you faded away, the only reality being the two of you, entwined and moving together as one.

Marshall’s grip tightened on your hips, his breathing growing ragged as he fought to keep his strokes slow and measured. You could feel his restraint, his desire to let go and take you harder, faster, but he held back, savoring the moment. His eyes never left yours, a silent promise that he would never let you fall.

With each deep plunge, you felt your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your belly like a tight spring. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to spill out, not wanting to be caught in such a compromising position by anyone who might walk in. But the pleasure was too intense, and soon you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as the spring inside you snapped, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You threw your head back, letting out a loud moan. Marshall’s eyes widened, and he paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of surprise and admiration before leaning in to capture your mouth again.

He picked up the pace, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax. The chair creaked and swayed precariously, echoing the intensity of the moment. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck as he kissed and nibbled, his hands now squeezing your ass as he pushed you down onto him, filling you completely.

The room was a blur of passion, the only clear focus the two of you and the chair that was now the stage of your forbidden act.

“I guess I should get back to work,” you said, reluctantly standing up from his lap and straightening your clothes. You tried to keep your tone light, but there was no hiding the lingering warmth in your cheeks.

Marshall leaned back in his chair, a playful glint still in his eyes. “Or,” he began, a slow smile spreading across his face, “you could take the day off and spend it with me.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “And what about all the work piling up on my desk?” you teased, though a part of you was tempted by the idea.

He waved a dismissive hand, as if it were the simplest problem in the world. “Forget about it. Work can wait.” Then, he leaned forward, his expression softening. “Come on. Don’t worry—I’ll still pay you for the day.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You really know how to sweeten the deal, don’t you?”

“Is it working?” he asked, tilting his head, a touch of hopefulness in his voice.

You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Hmm… I suppose a day off might not be the worst thing in the world.”

He grinned, standing up and closing the distance between you in one stride. “That’s what I like to hear. So… what do you say? Just you, me, and no distractions?”

You hesitated for a split second before nodding. “Alright. You win.”

Marshall’s smile widened as he reached for your hand. “Good. I promise you won’t regret it.” And with that, the two of you stepped away from the confines of work, ready to see where the day would lead. <3

#eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem #assistant!reader #office siren #marshall mathers #slim shady

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smartkookiee · 6 hours ago

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How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.3 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff, 2000 rom com vibes, making out, flirting. drinking, swearing, crying, sweet pining Jungkook, Jungkooks past comes up (boooooo), its a sweet chapter and they make out and I love it, legit the easiest chapter I have written so far ❥word-count: 10.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 3

“And you really believe this guy is going to work for this?” Yoongi said, looking over your notes and layout of the entire plan you had.

“Absolutely sir.” You nod.

It was the Tuesday following you and Jungkook’s date. You two had gotten some dinner and then you went home. You tried not to let that text ruin your mood but it did bring you down for the meal. You and Jungkook just talked more about what you do and things you liked. Just easy conversation and sharing social media, small things that you could mask your disappointment with and give cheerful and in depth answers too.

That text sucked to see. It sucked to see that he made this promise to be serious but he was just playing you.To be fair, you didn’t know him. It was your first date and he didn’t owe you anything. It would just make this easier.

"Already past the first date. You’re jumping in head first," Yoongi mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So, what’s next?"

"The plan is to keep things moving. I only have thirty days, so I wanted to start strong. The first date was just to break the ice. Now, I'm aiming to stay in touch throughout the weeks—get more annoying to make sure I stay on his radar."

Yoongi chuckled. "And what does annoying entail in this case?"

You grinned, feeling a mischievous spark. "I was thinking some things like being a little too clingy. Getting a bit too personal too soon. Social media stalking, maybe even acting overly sensitive to anything he says about 'dating' or 'us.' Just... trying to inch my way into his daily life, so he can’t quite shake me off. Then next week I will take things to the next step."

Yoongi nodded in approval. "I like it. Thorough and unexpected, just what we want. Let’s round back around next week and check-in. We’ll go over your progress and adjust as needed. You’re off to a good start."

You gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, sir."

With a wave of his hand, “Now go write, be amazing.” Yoongi dismissed you, and you returned to your desk, your mind already spinning with ideas. You were ready to dive into this full force, but there was one small snag, a small but persistent worry. You’d sent Jungkook a quick text yesterday, just a light “good morning” and a note about enjoying the date, but there hadn’t been a reply yet.

It wasn’t a big deal but already not responding to a text after a whole day was not sitting well with you.

Settling yourself down into your chair, that small disappointment from seeing that text on Jungkook's phone was still nagging at you. Your friends had warned you not to get attached, to keep things light, but you’d ignored them. They called this from a million miles away and you, like an idiot, let your guard down like always.

Well, not this time. This was just a job. No more emotional slip-ups.

“Damn it, I’m a writer,” you muttered under your breath. “This is just research. He’s just a random guy.”

With renewed determination, you opened your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as you drafted the first section of your article. Reliving the details of your first date, you kept it light and short because this wasn’t about how the first date went great, it’ll be about everything that happens now. You had your plan ready for action.

You were finally hitting a flow, words forming exactly as you wanted, when you heard footsteps stop just outside your cubicle.

“Special delivery!” Ann, one of the front-desk clerks, appeared with a bright smile, holding a small bouquet. "Someone’s got an admirer!"

She set down a small bouquet of sunflowers. The choice of flower surprised you most of all, you loved sunflowers. They were tied together with a with a purple ribbon and card attached to the end. Opening it, “A little bit of sun for a rainy first date. Thank you for listening to my fish facts. JK.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Ann cooed, lingering a moment to admire the flowers. She shot you a grin before heading back to the front, and you tried to keep your reaction composed.

You couldn't help but feel that small spark of joy, despite yourself, as you read the card. The sunflowers, your favorite, were unexpected and so charming. Tied with a cute ribbon that added a touch of thoughtfulness. You’d never been given flowers by anyone other than your parents and that one college boyfriend. Yet here they were, sent to your office, just for you.

If this had been any other situation, you’d probably be blushing and grinning like an idiot, falling head over heels way too fast. But the reminder of what you knew—what he was likely doing, the kind of guy he really was—kept you grounded.

As you stared at the bouquet, lost in thought, the telltale squeak of a chair wheeling over caught your attention.

“Wow someone’s special.” Ronnie rolled right next to you. “Are those from who I think they are from?”

"Looks like it," You replied casually, flashing her the card. "Just… a little thank you gift."

Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. "Oh, just a thank you gift? The guy sent you your favorite flowers, after only one date. You sure you aren’t already planning your future house decor with him?"

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your laptop, brushing off the teasing. "Maybe," But the flicker of disappointment crept back in. "If he hadn't got that text on our date. Then maybe this would be a sweet gesture. There's no way I'm getting attached to someone who’s probably chatting up another girl at the same time."

Ronnie gave you a skeptical look. "You still haven’t told me what it said, just that you went from mildly hopeful to permanently sour about him. Especially after you begged me and Jin to let you pick another guy before the date even ended."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was… friendly, if you know what I mean."

“Oh, friendly friendly?” she echoed, her voice heavy with implication. She winced sympathetically. "I’m sorry."

You shook your head, swiveling to face her. "No, no. We’re not doing the whole pity party thing. No look at Y/N she got fooled by another asshole again. This is work. I knew what I was signing up for with this guy, and it’s why I chose him. I can handle it."

Ronnie raised her brows. "Yeah, sure. You sound totally fine."

“I am fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the assignment, right? A totally detached, unbiased observation. Think of me as an objective researcher.”

“Okay Dr. Detachment. How are you going to respond to these?” Ronnie glanced down to the flowers and then back up to you.

You opened your mouth to answer but paused, glancing at the flowers. You already knew what you wanted to do, but still… you weren’t quite sure how to play it yet.

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was still buzzing from his own bold move. He and Hoseok were walking down the street on their lunch break, and Hoseok eyed him suspiciously. Jungkook filled him on the details with a little too much spring in his step, never the way Hoseok had ever seen Jungkook act after a date.

“So… the date went that well, huh?” Hoseok finally asked, giving Jungkook a smirk. “You’re practically skipping.”

“Hey, I am not,” Jungkook grumbled, trying to keep his voice casual as he filled Hoseok in on the date. It had gone smoother than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore that spark of excitement.

Jungkook had done a little social media stalking when he spent the day with his parents yesterday. You used a sunflower in your bio and in a lot of your posts, so he took a guess that they may have been your favorite flower. It did take him a little tracking down though, since sunflowers were going out of season.

Hoseok grinned, giving Jungkook an approving nod. “So… flowers and a corny note? You’re going for gold.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m hoping she liked it. She’s into romantic movies and such so I thought it would be a good gesture.” Plus it was a perfect opening note since sending flowers is another classic romantic movie troup. “She should have gotten them by now.” He checked his phone yet again, his screen still frustratingly blank.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, “Does it bother you that she’s not immediately giving you all of her attention.”

Jungkook snorted, “No.” He paused but the silence between them hung a little too long for Hoseok to be convinced, “Okay maybe a little.”

Hoseok let out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused grin. "Wow. Didn’t know you were secretly a heartthrob under all that cool indifference. Who are you, and what did you do with Jungkook?"

“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered, fighting a smile as he looked away. “I’m just… giving this a real shot.”

“And you’re stressing out over whether she liked your flowers or not,” Hoseok added, raising an eyebrow. “Must be a real first for you.”

Jungkook shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I just thought I’d make an effort, alright? ” He glanced at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen before he stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Why do I feel like the grand romantic gesture wasn’t entirely about the bet?” Hoseok chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

“It’s not because I’m actually dating her remember?” Jungkook replied, a little too quickly, then caught himself.

“You know,” Hoseok said, tilting his head, “there’s no law that says you can’t text her first, right? Might even make you seem… interested.”

Jungkook scoffed, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Dude, come on. Desperate is sending $50 sunflowers in November,” Hoseok replied, laughing as Jungkook scowled.

Jungkook sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I just really enjoyed spending time with her. It’s different.”

“So shoot her a text, lover boy,” Hoseok urged, hit Jungkook lightly on the back of the head. “All the smooth moves in the world won’t matter if she doesn’t know you’re into her.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed just as Hoseok delivered his advice, catching him off guard. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen. His eyes lit up, and a grin broke across his face—so wide and boyish that it almost unnerved Hoseok.

“Speak of the devil,” Jungkook muttered, barely containing his excitement.

“Well answer it.” He shoves his shoulder.

Jungkook fumbles with his phone and steps off to the side to answer, “You’ve reached Sunflowers on the Go. How may I be of service?”

You humm on the other end of the line in amusement, “So it’s the strangest thing. I got this delivery of sunflowers here on my desk but I don’t remember placing an order.”

“Hmm, strange indeed,” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Turns out we only deliver to Composure magazine. No one else.”

What Jungkook wasn't aware of is you had him on speaker phone so Ronnie was also able to hear him. She brought her hand to her face at his cheesy responses. You also shook your head at absurdity.

“Oh, is that so?” you teased. “Well, there was a little card attached… signed by someone named ‘JK.’”

“Yep, that’s the guy. Don’t know him personally, but he seems pretty cool,” Jungkook said, leaning into the joke. Looking over at Hoseok who was drawing hearts in the air around Jungkook, Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Hmmm, I don’t know anyone named ‘JK’. Guess I’ll just have to throw these away then.” You play with the ribbon in your fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s mean!” He protested, laughing. You laughed as well at his protest.

“Okay but seriously how did you know these were my favorite?” You touch one of the petals, sunflowers were definitely out of season so he had to go to some work to find really fresh ones. “Or was it just a lucky guess?”

“I may or may not have noticed a pattern on your socials.” His tone was sheepish and you just shook your head.

“Ah, so you were stalking me.” You nod, you notice Ronnie roll on over back to her desk. Coming back with her phone in hand. She was typing frantically.

“Maybe a little bit.” Jungkook let a beat pass, “I guess more importantly do you like them?”

“They are very beautiful. Especially for this time of year.” You sigh, the gesture really was sweet. Might be fast for Jungkook to send flowers this early on but still sweet.

Jungkook let out a sigh he han’t realized he had even been holding in, “I do have to confess something. I was hoping this would make an opening for me to invite you to dinner.” He shifted from side to side, “Well I would be making dinner.”

“Inviting me over? Wow, bold move. So soon.” You smile, Ronnie giving you a knowing look and you brushing her off. “Would I have to do anything?”

“I will take care of it all, I need to or ove I can make a mean carbonara,” Hoseok gave Jungkook a look like he had no idea he had any cooking skill. “How about tonight?”

“I have plans tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie, you were going to work on some writing tonight. “How about Thursday?”

“Perfect. You’re gonna be impressed, I already know it.” Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip.

“I’m sure I will.”

With some goodbyes you both hung up the phone. You could suddenly feel your heart racing in your chest and you mentally scolded yourself. You needed to remember none of this was long term. Which Ronnie was taking the lead in reminding you about.

“For someone who claims to be totally normal about all of this, you sure are smitten.” She crossed her arms and eyebrow raised observing you, “He totally knew these would work on you.”

“I am totally normal about all of this. This is perfect, we are going on a second date and I get to start implementing my plan. Everything is on track.” You say but ash is looking back to her phone, “What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to find his instagram.” She continued typing, not looking back up to you.

“Oh he doesn’t have one.” You remembered from dinner on Sunday. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to not have one but Ronnie was surprised.

“Boo, how am I supposed to dig up dirt on him?” Ash slumped down into her chair. You had actually done a little digging of your own the evening before though.

“Pretty sure that’s my job and I already did. He has twitter but he doesn’t post often. He keeps a pretty low presence online so I wasn’t able to learn much that way.” You sigh, it was actually a little refreshing although it did leave you guessing. Makes it tough to be intrusive in the next steps of your plan. “By the way, can you cry on command?”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow at your request, “I don’t but I think we both know who might.”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊

Day 5

Thursday arrived, you and Jungkook spent the entire day texting back and forth just talking about whatever came to your minds. You found any excuse to ask him any random question. Send him random things you genuinely thought were funny. He also had something funny to say back or respond with. So you just let that be it, just texting and talking as much as possible.

Jungkook had spent the night before doing a practice carbonara. Watching some guy on youtube walking him through the steps. It turned out pretty good but he knew he could make a better one tonight. He got really nice ingredients that hopefully would push it over the edge. He really wanted to make a good first impression with his cooking. He had no issue inviting you over so soon after knowing you, he felt really comfortable with you already.

He hoped it wasn’t too forward, but you didn’t seem to mind.

He had a bottle of mid tier white wine in his fridge and he also got a red because he wasn’t sure what you would prefer. He also wasn't sure what would pair better with a carbonara. Jungkook dressed his table up all nice, it was nothing special but a candle classes it up a little bit. Classic romantic things. It felt somewhat awkward and made him cringe but also no one else was around to see his effort but you, and you would appreciate it.

Or at least he hoped you would.

He then heard a knock from his front door. He thought it was a little early for you to be here but he didn’t mind, he still was making the food and he could pour you a glass while you waited. He trotted to his door, a wide grin on his face as he swung the door open with some gusto, only to have his features fall.

“Channel?”Jungkook's face twisted into a confused but unamused expression, as she brushed past him into the apartment. “Please, come on in.” He said, his voice clearly sarcastic.

Channel looked like she was dressed for a night out and not for a very cold November evening at that. She had her hair curled and bouncy like it usually was, and the highest heel she could comfortably wear, clicking her way around Jungkook's apartment.

“I want my scarf back,” She had her arms crossed, strolling into the apartment with ease. She had been here enough times to know where everything was. “and since you won’t respond to my calls, here I am in person.”

“Okay, you couldn’t have texted me about this?” Jungkook let his front door close and followed after her through his apartment, as she tried to look under things and around furniture.

She laughed bitterly, “Last I checked, you’ve been avoiding my texts as well.” She continued her hunt around his space. Jungkook getting a little peeved since he spent a good amount of time trying to make his space look good for your arrival. Your arrival which would be really soon and this was not a good look for a guy as you clocked as ‘unserious’.

"I kind of have a life, you know? I can’t answer every text you send.” Jungkook kept his eyes peeled for the scarf, more than ready for this encounter to end.

“Yeah, right.” Channel’s voice dripped with disbelief as she followed him further into the apartment, her arms crossed. “I could tell Hoseok was covering for you.” She paused mid-sentence, catching sight of the dining table set for two, a soft candle flickering in the center. Her expression turned suspicious. “And… what is that?”

Jungkook looked back to the table and then back to her, acting like it’s always looked like that. “Nothing, now where is that scarf?”

“Your place is so… spotless,” she murmured, her eyes scanning every corner of his living room, taking in the lit lamps, the neatly arranged coffee table, and the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. “Setting a mood, are we?”

“I mean, I clean often. I’m not a slob,” he replied defensively, trying to wave off her assumptions, though he could see she was putting it all together, one detail at a time.

Channel sniffs the air for a moment and then stalks over to the kitchen, “You’re cooking? You don’t cook.”

“Whenever he hung out, cooking really wasn’t a part of the schedule.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, aware that he was pushing her buttons. “I cook all the time.”

“Oh, I see,” She replied, her tone flat but her eyes flashing. She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “So, who is she, then?”

Jungkook sighed, not fighting her anymore, “no one, and she is coming over soon, let’s find your scarf so you can leave.”

But Channel didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms tighter.

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not brushing this off like that. Nice napkins, a candle? You set a damn table, Jungkook. What is this, some kind of date?” Her voice grew sharper with each word, anger and betrayal clear in her expression.

“That’s not really your business is it?” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, he needed to get her out of here.

Channel let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not my business? You know what’s funny? All this time, I thought maybe we were building toward something real. And now, I see you’re doing that with someone else?” She scoffed, her face hardening. “What you just didn’t want this with me?”

Her words hung in the air, clear betrayal laced them. Him and Channel only had a sexual relationship, it’s what they agreed upon from the start. Sometime in there Channel developed some feelings for him and after a few months asked if they could take this more seriously. Jungkook wasn’t ready for that kind of step so they ended it all together. So now this all looks really bad.

Except, he thought, it’s none of her business if he did change his mind. He never lied to her, and he was always very clear that he did not want a relationship. He really didn’t, and this thing with you, although a part of a bet, was something he was dipping his toes into.

“Channel, that’s not it,” Jungkook said, sighing. “I never lied to you. I really didn’t want a relationship.” He hesitated, then finally admitted, “But I met someone, and…we’re trying things out and it’s brand new. So please leave.”

Channel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising as she spat, “Oh, I get it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking around his place with fresh resentment. “I bet you’ll dump her as soon as you’ve slept together a few more times. Because that’s what you do, Jungkook.”

He clenched his fists, frustrated but trying to stay calm. “You know, I’ve had enough of this,.” he said quietly, finally spotting the scarf stuffed into a seat cushion. He pulled it out, tossing it to her.

She caught it and threw it around her neck with a sneer. “So what is it about her, huh? What makes her so ‘special’ that suddenly you’re willing to commit?” She shot him a glare, stepping closer. “Maybe I should stick around and meet this one-of-a-kind woman. See what all the fuss is about.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, guiding her toward the door. “You’re leaving, now.”

She jerked away from his touch, folding her arms defiantly. “What? Is she coming soon?” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “You don’t want her to know what you’re really like?”

Jungkook let out a slow breath, gathering his patience. “No. I think she would be an adult and actually talk with me about it,” he replied, surprising himself with the honesty in his voice. “And whatever she finds out—that’s for me to tell her and her to decide. So, goodnight, Channel.”

She stared at him, anger simmering as she pulled open the door, glancing back with an icy glare. “Screw you, Jungkook.” With that, she stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.

At the same time she opened the door you were stepping out of the elevator and onto Jungkook’s floor. You spotted a girl storming down the hallway after yelling inside a doorway, as she passed you muttering a quick “Excuse me” without a second glance. You had an uneasy feeling about her, especially as she walked away from the very apartment number Jungkook had given you. You double-checked, confirming the number on your phone with the one she had just exited, and the sinking feeling intensified.

“Jesus Jungkook. At least have some class and spread out your dates so we don’t bump into each other in the hall.” You whisper under your breath, but you still had to go through with this as if you didn’t immediately feel a sense of dread.

You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. After all, you were here now, and nothing had technically happened to prove your suspicions. So you pushed them down, knocked on the door, and tried to keep your expression neutral, reminding yourself you were maybe a minute early—nothing too crazy.

The door opened after a brief pause, and Jungkook’s face shifted from guarded to bright relief when he saw you standing there. His lips curled into a wide, easy smile, like he was genuinely glad to see you. His hair was a little tousled, his shirt a snug, tucked into jeans that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean frame. He looked relaxed, casually put together, which was somehow infuriatingly charming.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm, stepping aside so you could enter. “Come on in.”

“Hi,” you replied, acting as if nothing felt off.

You stepped past him, letting your eyes flick around the apartment, taking in the details—the tidy coffee table, a low hum of music playing through the room. He had a nice living room set up around a TV on the wall, the dining setup with an actual candle in the center. He’d put thought into this, that much was obvious. You couldn’t deny it was sweet, even if it left you slightly off-balance, considering what you’d walked past in the hallway moments ago.

“Okay now looking at it now, the candle maybe was a little cheesy.” Jungkook cringed at himself looking at the little set up. You shake your head and wave him off.

“No, I think it's adorable. You even got a scentless one so it doesn’t cover the smell of the food.” You take a seat at the table, “I’m prepared to be wow’d like you promised me.”

“I unfortunately got a little bit delayed so I am not quite done yet.” Jungkook was shuffling his way back into the kitchen, “But make yourself at home.”

“Okay.” You smile as he rounds his way back into his kitchen, he watches you get back up and walk around his living space. Almost like he was waiting for approval. Luckily Channel hadn’t trashed the place.

You took note of all of the little things he chose to have on display, some books, a few polaroid cameras and some polaroid's on the walls, as well as a record collection that lined the side of the living room on some shelves. You thumbed through some of them to see what was available. Impressed with some of his picks, some similar to your own. His place wasn’t terribly big. Classic little bachelor pad. You had noticed he had chosen to keep what you could only assume was his bedroom door closed.

It was something Jungkook thought way too hard about, if he left it open was it like saying he wanted to sleep with you tonight? Would it be way too forward? Or was closing it just as weird? Was closing it like telling you that he didn’t really want you in his space? He went back and forth and then opted to close it to maybe say he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, although he wouldn’t mind if it did.

You on the other hand didn’t barely give it a thought other than noticing it. You picked up one of his polaroid cameras and brought it with you. You round your way back to his kitchen and stand off to the side watching him work. He was pretty zoned in on what he was doing, everything was really smelling great. You usually found it pretty hot if a guy could cook well.

Jungkook took an opportunity to try some of his work and you took a photo right at the moment he took a bite, his eyes widened right at the moment he realized he'd been caught.

The picture came out and you set it down to develop.

“I’m sure that will be super cute.” You laugh, setting down his camera as well. He laughs and you look over his shoulder to see how close he is to being done.

“Coming to inspect my work?” Jungkook glances to his side, seeing you peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He was almost done cooking.

“Maybe.” You tease, “I’m a sucker for people who can cook. I’m just… okay at it.”

“Well,” Jungkook stops what he is doing and reaches for a drawer next to him pulling out a fork and twirling some of the noodles onto it. Then holding the fork out to you. “I’m ready for your final score.”

You paused. Debating if you should eat the food off the fork or if you should take the fork. Would it send the wrong message if you ate off it? Or was that exactly what he was doing? The fork wasn’t very close to your mouth but not crazy far. You decided to just take the fork from him and take the bite.

It ended up being really good carbonara.

“Oh my god.” You smile chewing, “it’s really fucking good. Ten out of ten.”

Jungkook did a small fist pump to himself, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth hiding a smile. “I’ll admit, I did a practice run yesterday and it was just okay but I’m glad this one is good.” Jungkook then taking a bite of it himself with another fork. Jungkook upon tasting his own food smacking his own forehead and leaning back.

Causing you to laugh at his dramatic reaction.

You glanced at the polaroid on the counter picking it up to see if it had developed yet, it wasn’t fully done but you could see mostly what the picture would look like. You showed it to Jungkook and he smiled, “Ten out of ten picture. Best one of me yet.”

You looked at it and he did look like a deer caught in the headlights but it was funny, you set it down.

“I’ll admit I’m wowed, to be fair I’ve only had carbonara like one other time.” You lean against one of his kitchen counters watching him as he plates the pasta for the two of you.

“I’ll still take the high praise. Now, should we do a white or a red wine?”

“Hmm, a red works better with this I think.” You nod.

Jungkook tells you where you can find his bottle opener and some glasses. You managed to get the cork screw into the cork but seem to be lacking the ability to actually pull the cork out of the bottle. Jungkook finds some amusement in watching your struggle but you persist. You’ve opened plenty of wine bottles in the past, this shouldn’t be difficult.

“Having some trouble?” Jungkook watched you try and fail to pull the cork out a third time.

“Absolutely not. The cork and I are just having a disagreement.” You shake off your hand a few times and then get a better grip on the screw pulling upward as best you can. With some pathetic struggle, you really swear you can feel the cork moving. You let out a sigh as you let it go again.

“May I?”

“I swear I’m not that weak.” This honestly was just embarrassing at this point, so much so you have to face away from Jungkook at your next attempt.

You make one final grip on the corkscrew and twist and tug, finally the corkscrew and cork pop free. Not before your hand comes straight, hard and fast, into your own face.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook’s face changes as he sees you basically punch your own face. “Are you okay?”

You did dizzy yourself slightly but you set the bottle down. Feeling your face, hoping you hadn’t broken your nose although it certainly would be bruised or sore at least, “Okay maybe I should never open wine ever again.”

Your nose than began to pulse with pain, this definitely wasn’t a part of your plan for sure. you covered it with one of your hands but Jungkook pulled it away. “Here let me look at it.”

“Please tell me it’s not bleeding.” You groan, and Jungkook places his hands on both of your cheeks looking at it. You match his face and he looks genuinely concerned.

“Well, I’m not a doctor but you’re still pretty cute.” He then smiles and rubs one of his thumbs on your cheek. “That’s my professional assessment anyways.”

“Okay, but it still really hurts,” You say, letting your own hands rest on his wrists.

“Hey, it’s probably just a bit sore—no blood, no bruise.” He gently tilts your head from side to side in a silly, exaggerated inspection that makes you giggle.

It’s quiet between you both for a moment, Jungkook still holding your face. He just looks over your face for a moment, your nose was red but it was probably going to be okay. He had hurt his own nose a few times to know if it was broken.

Jungkook’s hands still on your cheeks, eyes meeting as he studies your face. It’s easy to get lost in the warmth of his gaze and how close he is. A little too easy. For a second, you find yourself softening, tempted by the thought of leaning in and just letting yourself enjoy this. But then, just in time, you snap back to reality, realizing you can use this little mishap to your advantage. This damage to your nose might have actually opened up a window for what you had been working yourself up too.

You pull your face away from Jungkook and shake your head, breathing in a heavy breath. Jungkook looked a little confused but then after a moment you were crying. You were crying?

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, “I was just teasing you.”

You wave your hands in a frantic show, your voice cracking just a little. “No, no, it’s not you. It’s just….” You let out a little sob. “I’m just so clumsy! And you made this beautiful dinner, and I’ve totally ruined it!”

Jungkook looks utterly bewildered now, glancing around as if the answer to your sudden breakdown might be hiding in his kitchen cabinets. “Really, I promise, you didn’t mess anything up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, almost nervously.

“Ugh, I can't believe this. I’m totally ruining the mood.” You wipe your tears away.

It was a good little performance. One that was planned.

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The evening before.

Day 04

“The art of crying on command.” Here you were again. Ronnie sitting next to you. Jin pacing back and forth with his notepad once again. Unfortunately for you, Jin was the person to have expertise on this subject being an acting teacher.

“Okay I already regret this.” You try to stand up but Ronnie pulls you back down onto Jin’s couch.

“This will help you!” Ronnie protested and leaned on you once you were settled back in. “This can be a part of your over dramatic persona you use.”

“Exactly! It gives you another tool in the toolbox for the charade you signed up for!” Jin pointed at you with his pen and waving it around.

“Fine, continue.” You wave for him to go on and Jin grins.

“Thank you! Now, there are three main techniques for crying on command,” he begins, pacing dramatically. “Some people can just…do it. They snap their fingers and—bam! Tears.” He snaps his fingers for effect. “Others need to go to a sad memory. Something personal and emotional, something that really tugs at the heartstrings. And then, of course, some people have to resort to…ahem, creative methods. Pepper in the sinuses, maybe a little poke to the eye…”

“Let’s please avoid self-injury,” you interrupt dryly, giving him a look.

“Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics and see if you’re a natural,” Jin says, jotting a note on his pad. “Close your eyes, focus, and let’s see if you can will the tears into existence.”

You sit up straight, trying your best to summon tears on command, forcing your eyes to feel…sad? Your face contorts into what you hope is a tearful expression, but as you blink, nothing happens. Your eyes are as dry as ever.

“Nothing?” Jin sighs and makes a dramatic strike-through on his notepad, looking deeply disappointed.

“Yeah, sorry,” You mutter. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Jin strikes something out on his notepad and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Cannot cry on command. So let’s try a memory, or is there a movie scene you can’t think about because it gets you teared up?”

You sit and think, you have some sad memories from your childhood that you bring to the front of your mind. Reminiscing on them, although some things are sad or bittersweet, nothing tear jerking.

“Dry.” Ronnie leans over and looks closely in your eyes, so much so you have to shove her face away from you.

“Dry.” Jin repeats and writes on his notepad.

“Maybe try going to the dark place?” Ronnie snaps and looks at you. “You always get really teary eyed when you think about dying alone.”

“Okay rude.” You sigh, it wasn’t untrue. Whenever you came back from dates that were unsuccessful or you wasted your time on someone who just wanted something casual you found yourself going to, what you and Ronnie have deemed, the dark place. “I don’t like thinking about that.”

“It’s for science!” Ronnie cheers, throwing her arms up like it's supposed to make it more fun or something.

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch. “I don’t know if this is such a great idea, honestly. When I start spiraling about my love life, it’s not exactly…mild.” You look down, already feeling a little prick of sadness starting to stir.

Jin comes and squats in front of you, “Well then just go to the edge of it and don’t think about the whole picture. What about dying alone usually gets you crying?”

You think for a second, and finally, the words come out quietly. “I guess… I cry when I start thinking that maybe I won’t ever find someone who’s…just right for me.”

Ronnie lets out a soft “aww” and nudges you gently.

You let yourself feel it for a moment—the uncertainty, the nagging doubt that, maybe, you’ll keep hitting dead ends. And with that, you feel a familiar, bittersweet ache starting to well up.

Jin nods approvingly, seeing a slight glimmer in your eyes. “Excellent,” he says, jotting down, potential crying trigger identified.

The vulnerability hangs in the air, and you let yourself lean into it a little. Lately, it felt harder and harder to keep going on dates, to believe that love might work out someday. You always seemed to be either too much or not enough—loving too deeply, too slowly, too intensely. It left you feeling drained, to the point where dating felt less like romance and more like a chore.

But with Jungkook, for once, you’d felt...hopeful. Like there was someone who genuinely wanted to share a moment, who put effort into making sure you had a good time. As unintentional as it was, you’d started to feel a little spark, considering the circumstances of your forced meeting. But as soon as you’d started to believe it, you reminded yourself it was all part of the act. You couldn’t let yourself actually believe it. You got your hopes up again, and they were ripped out from under you… again.

So you had slowly felt as time went on, you were losing sight of finding the one.

Then without even realizing it, you had a few stray tears fall from your eyes.

“Boom!” Jin erupted and sprang to his feet, “We have tears!”

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You gripped onto that feeling you let it force a few more tears out of your eyes. Unfortunately you did not avoid the personal injury part of the tears. So this was going really well for you.

You take a shaky breath, letting a few more tears roll down, making sure the sniffle that follows sounds especially pitiful. “Maybe I should just go home,” you say, voice wavering. “This along with my day… it’s all just been too much. You probably think I’m completely insane.”

You manage to start walking toward the door. Jungkook then panics for a moment, how did we go from laughing at you injuring your nose to crying and saying you’re going home? He felt like he had jumped three steps or something. You start toward the front door but Jungkook stepped around you, stopping you.

“Wait what?” Jungkook looked confused, “How did we get here? I don’t want you to leave.”

You sniff even louder, adding just the right amount of snotty dramatics. “No, I should. You barely know me, and here I am—an emotional wreck in your kitchen. It’s… it’s too much.”

“And? You just hit yourself in the nose really hard. I would be a little embarrassed and want to leave too.” Jungkook places a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Besides isn't the whole point of going on dates to get to know each other better?”

“I guess.” You wipe your face again, “I don’t know… I didn’t mean to just… fall apart like this.”

Jungkook sighs a little relieved, that could have spiraled further. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Well it’s still early, haven’t had a chance to go full blown crazy yet.” Which gets a laugh out of both you and Jungkook.

“Well I can deal with that I think.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Besides, food is still good. Wine is still out and last I checked a bruised nose doesn’t stop you from eating.”

“Wait, is it actually bruising?” You reflexively go up to touch it, definitely tender to the touch and jungkook chuckles a little.

“I’m teasing. It’s only a little red.” He takes your hand pulls you back into his apartment, with a little reluctance from you. “Stay, at least for a little while. I’m not going to let you walk out of here feeling like this.”

You blink up at him, playing up a hint of uncertainty, but inside, you’re genuinely a little taken aback. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” He tilts his head to the side trying to meet your eyes, that had been darting everywhere else out of real embarrassment. “Look, I don’t care if you cry, I’m the biggest cry baby I know!”

You manage a small, hesitant smile, as if he’s starting to get through to you. “I find that hard to believe.”

Jungkook scoffs, feigning insult. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. Those ‘lost puppy finds his way home’ commercials? I’m done. I’m over here pretending there’s dust in my eyes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Okay, maybe I believe you… just a little.”

“There we go!” He looks genuinely pleased, his expression softening as he sees you relax. “So, if I’m willing to admit my crybaby tendencies, it’s only fair you stick around for dinner, right?” He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of your answer.

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You say it with an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the small spark of mischief hidden behind your agreement. It earns you a relieved, borderline triumphant smile from Jungkook.

“Phew! You’re sparing me from a whole night of wondering if my cooking scared you off for good.” He grins, his dramatic sigh punctuating his relief.

“Oh, please,” you say, rolling your eyes, feeling the perfect opening for a light jab. “If anything, the food is what convinced me to stay.”

Jungkook then serves dinner for the both of you. You both fall into easy conversation as you eat, he really did do a great job with the food. He was very considerate of making sure you needed anything else or pouring more wine when you wanted it. As well as making you laugh at almost every single turn. You really do get it why he got girls to go home with him so easily, between this and your first date the amount of confidence and charm that exudes from him is palpable in the air.

Jungkook would never show it but his lack of practice with dating has actually made this date and your last the most nervous he as been in a while. Jungkook’s mind is racing, carefully cataloging every response you make, every laugh, every nod. He wants—needs—this to go well, not just because he’d prefer to win $300 rather than lose it, but because, in his gut, he actually likes seeing you here, across from him. He catches himself wondering if he’s oversharing when he starts a story, or if he’s going on too long when he recounts his last trip. When you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, he relaxes a bit, but he still can’t quite shake that uncertainty.

You decided no more theatrics for the evening and let this play out naturally, how you would play out any other evening. Anything else would tip him off that maybe you were doing this on purpose.

After a while the two of you had moved into the living room, you had been flipping through his records again, you didn’t take a chance to look at them all earlier. He had a decent collection for sure so you got a good sense of the type of music he liked. You both had a few glasses of wine now and so the conversation had turned more and more flirtatious.

Noting the variety of music—jazz, a little classic rock, some alternative stuff. “You’ve got a good taste,” you say, glancing back at him. “This one,” you pull a record out with a slight smirk, “definitely says something about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He grins, leaning on the side of his couch as he watches you move around his shelves. “And what exactly does it say?”

You tilt your head, pretending to give it serious thought. “That you’re trying really hard to be cool. Just edgy enough.”

He laughs, though you notice he flushes slightly, brushing off your joke with a casual shrug. “Hey, everyone needs a little mystery. Or at least…a halfway-decent record collection.”

“Is that what you’re hiding?” you tease. “A mysterious vinyl collection? Or is it just your immense amount of fish facts?”

“Well, you’ll have to stick around to find out.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he immediately kicks himself. It feels too... eager, a bit too close to something genuine. But he manages to recover, putting on a self-assured smile. “Not everyone gets to see my hidden jazz albums.”

You laugh, setting the record back and looking at him with a raised brow. “Guess I’ll have to consider myself lucky, then.” Finding a spot back on the couch with him.

Jungkook shifted in his spot so his body was completely facing you now. With the alcohol having set in, his eyes were a little droopy and he was smiling but he looked boyish. He found the more he was learning about you the more he felt fine with telling you things about himself.

“You look tired.” You poke his forehead. “Maybe I really should go.”

“It’s barely even late.” Jungkook takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m not tired at all.”

“Your eyes tell a different story.” You laugh, leaning your head against the back of his couch.

“Well what else are they saying?” He smirks, finding any reason to get a compliment from you.

You stare at them for a minute, you were trying to come up with something clever. “Well if I am translating this right… I can’t handle my wine.”

You laugh and Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Wow how did you know?”

“I have a thing for reading people.” You shrug. “What do mine say?”

He leans in really close looking between them. “Wow this guy is so hot and charming I really want to kiss him again,” Jungkook then gasps dramatically leaning away. “That’s scandalous, Y/N.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and get up from the couch trying to leave, Jungkook's hand pulling you back to standing in front of him. “You’re really full of yourself.”

“I’d like to think just a healthy amount.” He grins, Jungkook then places one of his hands on the back of your thigh. The warmth of his hand sends a shiver up your spine, but you do your best to keep your cool, not letting him see just how much his touch is affecting you.

You scoff with a half smile, “We’ll see about that.”

Jungkooks grin widens sitting forward on his couch, both of his hands finding their way to your hips. Tracing small circles with his thumbs, making it impossible for you to think. The way he looks at you—intense, unflinching, like he’s trying to figure you out—has you second-guessing your plans all over again, just for a second. This is what makes this hard, because the way he looks at you makes you believe every single word.

Many guys before have looked at you like this and you always fall for it, you always let yourself go for it.

It’s a little difficult to remember that right now though, your mind clouded by the wine.

You glance down to his lap for a moment then back up to his eyes that haven’t left yours. “Can I?”

Jungkook just nods, allowing you to take your place on his lap. Lifting your legs to either side of his hips. Jungkook really was not intending for this night to go this way but he wasn’t complaining if it had. He found you incredibly hot and would do whatever you wanted. His hands stayed planted on your hips as you found what felt comfortable.

“You’re pretty.” He smiles boyishly, he really did find you gorgeous and would tell you again and again if it wouldn’t be weird. The compliment makes you blush and hum.

“You’re pretty too.” You lace your arms around his neck. Both of your faces coming so close together now. Breathes intermingling for a moment, asking the same question. “You were right though.”

“About what?”

“I do want to kiss you again.” You catch the slight hitch in Jungkook's breath at your words, the way his fingers tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your heart races. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, searching your face as though he’s almost afraid this moment might slip away.

“I’m not one to protest.” Jungkook swallows for a moment, before you took no time to close the distance between you. Pressing your lips against his soft but certain. Jungkook immediately responds tilting his head to deepen it. One of Jungkook's hands sliding up your back to bring you closer to him. The moment makes you forget everything else, as you slide your tongue into his mouth.

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink into it, into the surprising tenderness of his touch, the quiet intensity of his kiss. You move your hands to cup his face, relishing in how warm you are now. You felt your whole entire body heat up, and small wetness in between your legs. Oh this was not good, you cannot sleep with him this soon.

Oh he probably knew exactly what he was doing though.

He would know exactly where to touch you and exactly how to make you moan and you had very little issues with wanting to let him do that. It would be so worth it, it would be so good. Except it cannot go past this, for your sanity at least. You needed to cut this off somehow, expect you kind of lead the night here. His tongue in your mouth was making it incredibly difficult to be logical. You could feel him probably already getting a semi and you really could not stop thinking about grinding on him.

You needed to stop though. Because this is a great opportunity to drive in that wedge between the two of you. One more way to mess this situation ship up, but not ruin it completely.

As you pull away from him, leaving his lap, you mutter, “Okay… Goodnight.” You force yourself to stand, feigning nonchalance as you gather your things, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn back around. Jungkook is left blinking at you, visibly caught off guard, his hands awkwardly suspended in the air where your hips just were. He clears his throat, collecting himself as he scrambles to follow you.

Clearing his throat. “Hey… um woah… was that not good or whatever?”

You pick up some of your stuff into you arm, “It was it was good. It was great.”

Oh god it was great, he was a really good kisser and your whole body was screaming at you to go back but you fought through.

Jungkook was confused by your answer and shook his head, as he continued to follow you, “Did… did I misread something? Because I was getting a vibe.”

You glance over your shoulder and manage to flash a casual smile. “No, you didn’t misread anything. I just… don’t usually sleep with someone on the second date. Kind of a rule.” You bite your lip, keeping the truth of it hidden.

“Oh.” Jungkook nods, a look of relief mixed with mild confusion crossing his face as he adjusts his shirt. “Right, totally. Cool cool cool. That’s more than okay and Makes sense, makes sense… you should have said something.”

“It’s a bit of a mood killer to say ‘hey, by the way, you’re not getting any,’ don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, suppressing a grin.

You gather your things, amused by his honesty, and start toward the door. Jungkook trails behind you, letting out a small puff of air as he stares at the floor. Then, after a beat, he glances up with a sly grin. “So… just out of curiosity, not trying to be weird or anything, but what date number are we talking here? Fourth, fifth…?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, knowing full well he has no idea you’re just messing with him. “Higher.”

He frowns, looking genuinely curious now. “Sixth?”

“Nope.”

“Seventh?” He leans in closer, eyes narrowed like he’s reading the answer off your face.

“Higher.”

“Okay, when do you usually?”

You cross your arms, “Twelfth.”

Jungkook’s face barely changes, but you can see his jaw tighten just a little as he processes this. “Twelve… dates,” he repeats slowly, nodding as if he’s mentally mapping it out. “I mean, sure. That’s totally reasonable. Not a problem.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised at his lack of pushback.

Yeah.” He shrugs, putting on a confident smile. “Guess I just have to plan ten more killer dates.”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see them.” Jungkook then opens the front door for you.

“You're going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?” He watches you slowly step out the door with a wide grin on your face. He finds it cute and playful, he could tell you liked the chase.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You say in a sing song voice, giving him a flirtatious wave as you walk up the hallway to his elevator.

Before you could get too far Jungkook decided to leave with just one last thing. Trotting up the hallway so he could catch you, taking your wrist and stopping you. “One last thing.”

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek and then kisses you. It surprises you but you welcome him, its one of those kisses that is so passionate and it makes your knees want to buckle out from under you in response. He uses just a little bit of tongue to send a shiver through your whole body, his hand warm against your cheek as he continues to kiss you just long enough to make you lose track of the hallway, the elevator, and everything else.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are twinkling with that trademark cockiness, but there’s something softer underneath, something that makes your heart do an unwelcome little flip. He grins, his hand lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer before letting go. “Goodnight.”

He goes back into his apartment as you retreat to the elevator. As you ride down, you let out a shaky breath, trying to process what just happened, and trying even harder to remind yourself why you’re supposed to be making him miserable. But as your lips still tingle from his kiss, you’re the one who is being thrown off balance now. This was continuing to prove to be difficult.

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Day 6

Jungkook is floating on air as he gets through his next work day. So much so Hoseok has taken notice of Jungkook's change in attitude. Really his whole attitude had been different all week. Not that he was particularly grumpy before or even usually in a bad mood, but he was in a good mood.

It was Friday night, and the familiar hum of the weekend buzzed in the air as Jimin and Taehyung once again convinced Jungkook and Hoseok to come out for a night of fun. Jungkook had been hesitant, his thoughts lingering on you. He’d been so busy lately, and while the dates had been great, there was something about tonight that made him want to see what plans you had before fully committing to the night out. But eventually, he decided he should just go—time with his friends, after all, was good too. Plus, there was that whole bet to think about, and he had a chance to subtly show Jimin and Taehyung how smoothly things were going with you.

When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the booth, they were greeted with their usual boisterous energy. Taehyung raised his glass, grinning widely. “Look who it is!” he said, motioning to the empty seats. As they sat down, the drinks flowed easily, and the conversation began to buzz.

However, Jimin and Taehyung had something else on their minds—Jungkook’s unusually good mood. While their conversation about random topics picked up, they were both trying to pinpoint exactly what had changed in him.

“So,” Jimin leaned forward, his voice a bit more teasing than usual, “what’s going on with you tonight? You’ve been, like, way too chill. It’s freaking me out.”

Jungkook paused for a moment, a little taken aback by the sudden observation. “What do you mean?”

Jimin gestured at him with a mock-serious face, “You're usually the one trying to take the night to the next level. Trying to make things more interesting. Tonight, you're just sitting here, all calm, looking like you’re, I don’t know, at peace or something?”

Taehyung chuckled at the thought, leaning in with a grin. “Yeah, what happened to the Jungkook who was out here doing whatever it took to keep things fun and exciting? You usually make sure the whole night has a direction. Right now, you’re, like... engaged in our conversation about cyber-security. That’s... not you.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He knew his friends had caught on to something, but they didn’t know why he was acting different. “I’m just… having a good day,” he said, his voice light and casual. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Hoseok snorted next to him and Jungkook gave him a side eye.

“You definitely would have gotten someone’s number by now but your eyes have been glued on us or on your phone this whole time.” Taehyung added on, which was usually true but Jungkook was glued to his phone. Hoping maybe he would see another text from you, secretly. Casually, in a totally normal way.

“So what gives?” Jimin pokes Jungkook in the arm.

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

Hoseok rolled his eyes, “It’s Y/N. The girl you set him up with for this stupid bet.”

“Oh.” It all clicked into place for the both of them but it was still weird, “She totally see through your act yet?”

Jungkook was caught off guard, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Actually,” he began, his voice softening, “no. We had a really nice date last night. There is nothing to see through, I’ve been completely genuine.”

“Oh, really?” Jimin raised a skeptical eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

Hoseok, who had been mostly observing, finally chimed in with a sigh. “He’s been in such a good mood about it all day, I’ve actually been avoiding him.”

Jungkook shot him a glare, nudging his arm. “So that’s why you were dodging me earlier?”

Hoseok shrugged, chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just couldn’t listen to you go on about Y/N again today.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jimin and Taehyung. “You guys are acting like it’s such a big deal. It’s just… going well.”

Taehyung raised a skeptical brow, his tone a bit annoyed. “So, you’re hitting it off?”

Jungkook smirked, raising his glass. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

That earned a laugh from Jimin and Taehyung. “Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head.

“All I’m saying,” Jungkook replied, his smirk widening, “is you two better get your wallets ready. In 24 days, you’re going to owe me big time.”

With a final grin, Jungkook set his glass down and excused himself, heading off to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jimin leaned closer to Hoseok, lowering his voice. “Okay, is it actually going well, or is he just messing with us?”

Hoseok took a sip of his drink, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment before answering. “All I’ll say is… he sent flowers.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped, and Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Flowers?” They exchanged looks of disbelief, struggling to picture Jungkook—who hadn’t done more than text after a night out for years—sending flowers.

“What kind?” Taehyung asked, still dubious. “If they were just roses, it might’ve been for show.”

Hoseok gave an exasperated look. “Sunflowers. They’re her favorite.”

Jimin blinked in disbelief, his jaw still halfway dropped as he processed Hoseok's words. “Sunflowers?” he repeated, as if the specific flower choice made it even more surreal. “You’re telling me Jungkook not only sent flowers but remembered her favorite kind?”

Hoseok nodded, his expression one of mild amusement. “It’s like he’s on some kind of mission. Didn’t even blink when he mentioned it either—used it as his way to get the second date they had this week.”

Taehyung shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I don’t know who this new Jungkook is, but he’s full of surprises. Sunflowers? That’s not just impressive; that’s borderline romantic.”

“Borderline?” Jimin laughed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He’s gone full-on romance novel, and for someone he’s been seeing for, what, a week? This has to be the longest he’s been interested in anyone, like, ever.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, chewing on his lip as he processed the surprising information. “Damn. This is serious.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok said with a small smile, finding some pride in a changed Jungkook. “So he’s not wrong when he says you guys are going to owe him. He’s actually putting in the effort.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look, stunned but slightly impressed. Watching Jungkook send flowers, remember favorites, and put his best foot forward was new—and honestly? They both knew they might just end up eating their own words. Which made them think, was there a way for them to slow this down, make it come to a halt?

It wasn’t an insane amount of money for either of them to lose, but it was much more entertaining to see Jungkook lose. Was there something they could do to mess this up but in a non asshole way?

If they didn’t, Jungkook was going to win the bet, but it had already become much more a bet at this point for him.

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eatanorange · 1 day ago

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marauders do the candy trauma salad trend since I JUST saw a fantastic one for pjo (highly encourage y'all to add your versions/to this pls I don't have solid hcs of everyone) (evan's is fully me projecting btw)(a lot of them are me projecting <3).

Upon completion I want to add up here n not just the tags that these do reference various traumas/bigotry so be careful and mind what headspace ur in n all that pls take care of urselves k thanks love u.

Sirius: Hi I'm sirius and every time my mother considered something I did 'impure', like experience joy or get sorted in to gryffindor, she took my mouth away! *momentary zone out from the horrors* I brought milk duds!

Barty: bazooka bubblegum. *vid cuts* I'm barty and I hate my dad for all of the reasons you can imagine and I think it would be fun if he blew up. good?

Lily: Hi I'm Lily and after I got sent to magic school, all emotional ties with my muggle sister, who regards me as a freak, and my mother, who was more sensitive to her side, were severed. They didn't tell me when my dad died. I brought 3 musketeers.

Remus: Hi I'm remus and I got bit by a werewolf when I was 5, then my dad offed himself because of it. I brought moon pies.

James: Hi I'm James and I fell into limerence with someone and incessantly pursued them for over a year in ways that were detrimental to both of our mental states. I was so public about it I don't even need to say who it was. My mother sat me down one day and said "was it something your father and I did, something we said, that convinced you you need to beg someone to love you? to let you show them love?" and that broke something in me. We're chill now though, and I have coping techniques that work for me while still allowing me to be my expressive self, so I brought mr. goodbars.

Peter: Hi I'm peter and my animagus is literally a rat. I brought sour patch kids.

Dorcas: Hi I'm dorcas and my pureblood parents will never say it to my face but they wanted me to be a boy. To compensate I was sure to always get top marks, be well liked, and experience gender dysphoria. I burnt out before our 5th year, and learning radical acceptance in the place of trying to guess unspoken rules saved my life. I brought smarties.

Regulus: Hi I'm regulus and in order to be sure my mother didn't assassinate my brother for running away, I stayed behind in the abusive household and eventually became a deatheater to keep my cover, hunting down one bald headed bitch's horcruxes until it literally almost killed me. I think it did kill me in some lives. and I brought the starburst.

Mary: Hi I'm Mary and due to blood supremacist bigots, I have to go to school with people who want me to die just for having the audacity to exist. The muggle world is also like this. The school I go to does not matter in this scenario. I brought mentos for the salad and a bottle of soda for the show.

Evan: Hi I'm evan and my ex went on holiday to another country for 3 months, told me we could write to stay connected, they didn't, broke up with me via owl while still on said vacation, and then came to talk to me in person about that, denied that it was an active choice to disconnect from me, then tried to put the onus of any friendship to follow on just me. We haven't spoken since. Also I'm a sex positive, but also trauma affected ace, it was an open relationship, and they somehow still managed to be shady/inconsiderate about hooking up with someone on the vacation. I brought blow pops.

Pandora: Hi I'm pandora and sometimes I get prophetic dreams so vivid I can't tell when I wake up. Sometimes, though the future is not stagnant, I see my friends die :) I brought airheads.

Marlene: Hi I'm marlene and I have 5 brothers. 3 of them accept my nonbinary identity. The rest, and my parents, blatantly ignore that I use they/them pronouns. Then they told me if I don't have children as an adult I won't be worth visiting because it's my job as a pureblood to produce an heir. So I went to St. Mungos and got sterilized. I brought baby ruth candy.

Hope you enjoy! and thanks if you read them all! This was fun for me.

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purpurussy · 2 days ago

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the version of dan and phil playing the sims which exists only in my head is so good I wish you guys could see this

my headcanon is that dalien and cassandra are besties and cassandra is very protective of him because he reminds her of her gay little brother (alexander goth is gay in every one of my saves and I recently saw a reddit thread where everyone was saying they hc him as homophobic which sent me because that is NOT my fruity little alexander 💀💀💀 anyway) and dalien prom-posed to her purely because he wanted to ask nicholas, but he was scared of asking a boy to the prom, so he asked her to be his beard essentially. but she rejected him because she's gay too (pro tip you can make literally all of your sims gay and the police can't stop you) plus that's basically her little brother 😭 so he had a breakdown after that and then he came out to her (she's the first person he came out to) and she encouraged him to ask his crush and she said she'll throw hands if anyone is mean to them 🥰 (side note she has actually kinda known for a while. and she has been one of the NPCs who randomly starts a fight in the school corridor before because someone said daliens hair looked gay or some shit so she tried to kill them lmfao)

now she is not a big fan of nicholas because she gets the vibe that dalien is more into him than the other way round and he's too preppy and he annoys her so she's always kinda side eyeing him. but she also loves 3rd wheeling their dates so she can be daliens guard dog/twink handler/#1 fujo because she supports him even though his bf is annoying. and she will be there to let dalien cry on her shoulder and also she'll key nicholas's car and put a stink bomb in his locker when the relationship inevitably crashes and burns <3

that is MY CASSANDRA GOTH now the constant bullying and slander needs to STOP .... she never did anything wrong by rejecting dalien they are both GAY and also best friends. dan and phil release her from this ridiculous love triangle prison please free my girl. she is not a woman scorned/spurned lover or whatever archetype. she IS a mean goth lesbian who is actually very sweet but only if you appeal to her emotionally curious nature. also this is not what polyamory is 💀

thank you for reading my thesis telling 2 youtubers who play the sims for a check how they should do their job 😁

#plus we know they love making their sims characters proxies for their own story. cassandra can be a proxy for their very own army of fujos #they are doing cassandra so dirty and wasting her potential as a character bc they hate women #and because they had this half-baked idea for a polycule which quickly turned into a sort of love triangle bc they couldn't commit to it #free her please. release her #phan #dan and phil #dnp #/j on the hate women thing btw im joking . however their save is looking like a bit of a boy soup so i wouldn't mind there being #an interesting female character in there

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arget-star · 2 days ago

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By Any Other Name

Sakura Haruka x F!Reader

A/N: Alright SO. I know I am primarily a Fire Emblem blog. however, Wind Breaker took over my life in the span of like a week and I could not get this thought out of my head and well. here we are. Not beta read, this is my first xreader fic i've ever posted. i hope you enjoy!

tags: fluff, a tiny bit of blood, feelings

wc: 2k

about: You met Sakura about six months ago, and have essentially wormed your way into his little walled off heart. He comes home to your now (mostly) shared little apartment, battered and bloody after saving a girl who looked like you

You’re not living together.

That’s what Sakura says, despite the fact you stay over four nights out of the week, and somewhere in the six months you’ve been dating, half your stuff has ended up in his ramshackle little apartment. “You deserve better than a leaky faucet”, he’d said, cheeks red and nose scrunched in a scowl. You’d merely laughed, kissing his forehead before replying, “It adds to the charm.” And that was that.

You’re not living together. So why does he hope you’ll be there, curled up on that cheap little couch you’d insisted on bringing over, that lovely smile on your face as you greet him?

Those assholes must’ve hit his head harder than he realized. Sakura grits his teeth, an arm banded around his throbbing torso as he wobbles along the sidewalk. Weaklings, all of them. Acting tough solely because they have nothing better to do with their time. Seriously, it’s just plain pathetic.

He spits out a glob of blood into the nearby bushes. He doesn’t remember biting his cheek; maybe he’d ground his teeth against it after taking a particularly nasty kick while dodging someone else’s punch. Wasn’t he past his body locking up, his muscles moving with all the speed of a turtle?

The girl had been clutching the long strap of her purse with all her meager might while surrounded by leering thugs. The type of guys who coast by on looks rather than action. Intimidation instead of respect. At least now he’s able to articulate—better yet, understand—what pisses him off so badly about guys like that. Sakura would’ve leapt in regardless, but then he caught sight of her underneath the lamplight, and her shade of hair matched yours. The purse even had a keychain dangling from it, the charms jingling in faint alarm.

She wasn’t you, obviously. You were already home, had probably cooked something simple yet delicious and were keeping it warm until he arrived.

So he froze, mismatched eyes wide as a new type of fear unfurled within his chest, and then all hell broke loose. He knew how to protect someone in a fight, finally, and while the poor girl flattened herself against the side of a nearby building as he sent the idiots flying, his attention still kept flicking to her. He kept thinking what he’d do if it was you, and on one such slip of his concentration, that bastard’s boot came out of nowhere.

He’ll have to report this to Umemiya in the morning, and tell you all about it tonight, and—

Sakura looks up. He’s nearly there; the derelict building doesn’t seem so foreboding, especially once he catches sight of the warm yellow light on in his apartment. Maybe, just maybe, things won’t be so bad after all.

The doorknob wiggles. You carefully place your bookmark inside your book, sitting up properly in your seat. Sakura’s home a bit later than usual—he probably got stuck eating at Café Pothos with everyone else. Good. You’re grateful he has so many friends, even if he acts like a cat who fell into a puddle of water about it.

“Welco—Sakura!” Your book tumbles from your hands in your haste to stand up. He stands in the doorway while you catalogue his injuries as if in slow motion. Blood drips down the left side of his face from a cut above his eyebrow. His nose is bleeding, too, running down his chin and staining his white shirt red. His knuckles are raw. It’s subtle; yet he sways, quickly placing his right hand against the wall to brace himself. The motion is enough to jolt you from your surprise.

You’re at his side in a blink. His reaction is sluggish; lips parting in belated surprise when you loop his right arm around your shoulders. Normally, he reads your movements almost before you make them, bracing himself for whatever contact you’re about to subject him to so he’s never caught off guard. But slowly, like water eroding rock, he’d learned that he can let his guard down around you, even at his most vulnerable.

Especially then.

“‘M fine,” he mutters out of reflex. You only scoff, walking him over to the couch with a small huff of effort. “Just a small fight.”

Carefully, you help ease him down onto the cushions, releasing your hold only once he’s settled. “A small fight?” You echo, disbelief in your tone. There’s no reprimand or ridicule, just a healthy doubt. He doesn’t know exactly when he stopped looking for the irritation he’s so used to hearing. Leaning his head back, he sighs. “Some guys were causin’ trouble. A new gang, I think. Trying to rob a girl—” he cuts off abruptly, and you watch his cheeks turn a brilliant shade of red, nearly blending in with the dried blood caking his skin. Sakura immediately looks away; he misses the knowing glint entering your expression.

Spinning on your heel, you head for the kitchen. The faucet doesn’t leak as badly now, after you’d finagled a temporary fix with determination and a healthy amount of internet research. He deserves more than a crappy sink, even if he won’t admit it. “You were by yourself?” You ask, opening the drawer and removing a towel. (Yet another item that had miraculously wound up in his space one day. When Sakura confronted you, you’d shrugged, then asked what he wanted for dinner.)

Sakura watches you for a moment, ignoring how something deep within his chest settles as you run the towel under cool water. It’s a familiar scene, enough that he no longer feels the urge to yell and raise his fists in defense. “Yeah. Nothin’ I couldn’t handle on my own.”

Strange. Suo-chan and Nirei-chan always shadow Sakura. Unless Sakura is going home—they haven’t invaded his space since the day they’d discovered him sick on the floor. Now, especially, Sakura would rip their heads off if they came snooping around while you were home. The faucet shuts off. You wring out the towel once, twice, then pad back over to the couch.

“I never doubted that, Grade Captain,” you tease, arranging yourself so you’re sitting on your knees. Drops of water drip down your wrist and onto the cushions below. His blush deepens, and you don’t bother hiding your smile. “Now hold still.”

“Shaddup,” he mumbles without heat. Instinct makes him shift back an inch; he’s always taken care of himself, alone. Sick, bruised, bloodied—he proved time and again he didn’t need anyone else. Then you breezed into his life, upending his entire world with your musical laughter and patient touch.

This is far from the first time you’ve patched him up. He no longer hisses and rages and scowls, a teenage version of a toddler’s temper tantrum, yet neither can he completely disregard a lifetime of gut reactions to others extending a hand in his direction.

You never minded when his hackles rose. You understood him, remaining endlessly understanding while he let his fear run its course. The damp rag hovers in the space between you and him. Sakura zeros in on the blue material instead of your face.

“Ready?”

That’s another thing. You ask him about things. Wait for his brain to catch up with non-dangerous situations. It’s weird, and scary, and wonderful.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“You always are.”

The smile you give him is radiant. Your free hand cups his less bloody cheek, keeping him steady, while you tenderly press the rag to his chin. He hisses out a breath through clenched teeth.

It’s quiet, as you slowly clean him up, beyond the soft scrap of material against skin. There’s a rhythm to your movements. Sakura finds it soothing, despite the circumstances. You both study each other; Sakura, like you’re a puzzle he’s still trying to solve, and you, like he’s something precious.

His golden eye truly is beautiful. He told you others have compared it to twilight, but you think it’s more akin to burnished gold. Rare, and infinitely treasured. He closes it, keeping it safe from harm as you run the now pink-tinged cloth over his browbone. A shame, you think, he keeps himself so locked away.

The slight pressure leaves his face. You move back, giving him room to breathe, holding the rag loosely in your hand. His eye opens again, a coin glinting in a riverbank.

“There,” you say, unfolding yourself from the couch, brushing your thumb across his cheek before you release him completely. “I’ll be back with the first aid supplies.”

Sakura just nods. He never says the words thank you; but you hear it in the way he lets you take care of him, how he takes your hands so reverently in his once your all finished, cradling you like he’s afraid you’ll snap in half if he squeezes too hard.

You’re opening the cabinet underneath the sink when he speaks again. “She looked like you.”

He says it so quietly, you nearly miss it. You freeze, half-bent down to reach for the ridiculous amounts of bandages and antiseptic bottles stashed neatly in their respective baskets. (Another thing you’d changed one day, much to Sakura’s initial chagrin, until he’d stumbled home covered in half a dozen cuts on the rare day you weren’t waiting for him, and found everything he needed without cursing his lack of organization.)

Mechanically, you grab the necessary materials. You’d assumed as much, based on his reaction when you told you the cause of his current state. A shudder runs down your spine as you imagine what the other guys must look like, lying defeated in the street. Sakura doesn’t fight just on behalf of someone else—at least, that what helps him sleep at night, though you know his tune has changed after all his experiences with Bofurin. For him to fight on your behalf, however tangentially related, makes your heart flutter.

Kotoha will practically jump for joy when you tell her.

For now, you let this newfound knowledge settle into your skin, your fluttering heart, smiling to yourself as you exit the bathroom, arms loaded with supplies. “Did she, now?”

Sakura’s sitting upright, head down, once again avoiding your gaze. His fingernails dig into the fabric of his school pants. Beneath the curtain of two-toned hair, you can see the blush sitting high on his cheeks. It’s a miracle they’re not permanently stained pink.

“Y-yeah. I knew she wasn’t you, but for a moment…I need to teach you how to defend yourself. I can’t patrol everywhere, and I’m not the strongest yet. Anyone from Furin will keep you safe, but if we’re not around—”

This is new. You swallow, setting the first aid supplies down on the tatami, sitting down with your legs crisscrossed. (One day, you’ll convince him to buy a table, but there’s only so much furniture you can squeeze in such a tiny place.)

“Sakura,” you say, but he doesn’t hear you.

“—I need to know you can take care of yourself until I get there—”

“Sakura.”

“—and send them all flyin’—”

“Haruka.”

That shocks him into silence. He inhales, then looks up sharply, lips curling into the angry snarl you know so well. It’s his only defense mechanism, beyond his fists, and he’d never raise those at you. (That thing lodged within his chest stirs again. No one’s called him by his given name in years. It feels right, that here, in this space you two have created together, you should use it.)

He’s quite the sight, half patched-up and spluttering mad. One eye darkens like a storm at sea; the other kindles into molten gold, ready to burn any who get in his way.

You’re surprised, too. But you didn’t know what else to do. He’s never spiraled like this before, and it hits you that for perhaps the first time, he was genuinely scared for someone else. You shake your head, breaking eye contact, and reach for the gauze. “I’m sorry, Sakura. I should have asked before using your first name.”

Your fingers shake only a little when you grab the nearest antiseptic, flipping open the cap with your thumb. He watches it all, struck dumb. He doesn’t want an apology. He wants you to say it again, but he doesn’t know how to ask.

All of the fight leaks out of him. His shoulders slump forward. Haruka. Haruka. You hadn’t said it in disgust, or fear, or hatred. If he had to guess, you sounded concerned. Haruka. “I liked hearin’ you say it,” he replies.

A laugh bubbles out of you, born from nervous relief. You nearly spill antiseptic all over you instead of the gauze. “Really? May I call you Haruka, then? Not all the time…just here.” Rising to your knees, you crawl over to him, taking one battered hand in your soft one.

His throat tightens. An odd pressure builds behind his eyes. “Fine.”

“This’ll sting,” you murmur in warning, almost like an afterthought. “You can use mine, too. If you want.”

Sakura’s about to respond, tell you he’ll do it if it’ll make you happy (and make his own heart beat a little faster), but then the gauze descends onto his split knuckles. It’s not like eating a kick to the face; it barely registers in comparison.

Maybe it’s the emotions he’s kept bottled up since the fight. Maybe it’s the fact you called him Haruka and the world didn’t explode. Both things, he assumes, and that’s why your healing touch hurts worse than a dozen roundhouse kicks.

It fades, after that first bright burst.

Neither of you say anything again while you continue your ministrations. Once his knuckles are taken care of, you move on to his face, tenderly smoothing his bi-colored bangs off his forehead to ensure no strands get caught underneath the small bandage you apply to the cut above his eyebrow.

The entire time, he replays this strange evening over and over again in his head. It all leads back to you, caring for him, using his first name like it’s nothing when it in fact means everything. He hates himself, a little bit, for not being better at this.

For your part, your focus on him turns clinical. You can deal with the emotional part of it later. When you’ve finished with the last bandage, you stare at him a moment. Take in this boy who pushed away the entire world when it wrote him off, the very same boy who harbors no malice in his heart, just kindness hidden by anger.

You press a soft kiss to his lips, then slide away before he can reciprocate. He splutters again, blush back in place, and it’s such a Sak—Haruka thing to do, you bite back a laugh.

“Are you ready to eat, Haruka? You get hungry after a good fight.”

He offers you a rare smile in return.

#sakura haruka x reader #sakura haruka #wind breaker #sakura wind breaker #char writes #i suck at titles bro rip me #i am truly obsessed with this show sakura has bewitched me #also i realized AFTER i wrote this in a fever dream that i may have fudged the layout of sakura's apt a bit. shrugs #.sakura haruka

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kairukitsuneo · 1 day ago

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Thank you for the information of bring the light of what's happening in the other side of the "callout" post. Kagebros has been harassed and suffered mental issue because of the callout post. While I understand the callout poster has good intention to inform others (because they believed selling traced art is bad), but it should have been resolve by a private message and realised that Kagebros was unaware it's bad to trace from official stuff too and it was never their intention to scam people. Now they had learned their lesson and never trace again. Regarding the alleged AI artist in the post claims, I found only proof of them proudly showcase the AI zine they have made with AI that was in 2022 (two years ago), I'm not sure if they ever changed their way this year or not, but it left a bad taste in me for knowing someone enjoying using AI even if they only feeding their own arts. AI generated art is still a plagiarism copy machine to steal from all artist regardless how you use it. Plus they are contributing to burning our nature faster than the nature can self-repair themselves.

================== With that said, here is something to learn from for all of us here:

I wish everyone's first attempt to a problem is a private message to sort things out and understanding why someone have done something you can't accept. Instead of letting your bias and assumption take over to make yourself feel righteous.

It's NEVER acceptable to make a callout post without prior proof or understanding both side of the situation. At least give the others a chance to right their wrongs and make up for it after they realising their mistake. To my believes, Callout post are only for warning the society of dangerous individuals like murderer/ escaped convict / rapist / groomers (provided proof of their crimes). Making callout post for trivia things like who to block, who done bad behaviors, who done tracing is still very childish to me. Because callout post usually it's made public, we can't control how people react and do about it. It's upsetting to see people would rather harrass and doxx the offender in the callout post. Even if they are deemed evil and hateful to me. They are still Humans, a sentient being with real feelings and thoughts. We are nothing worse than them if we did the same thing to hurt them. That's why we have to be very careful to make callout post! If you wanted to callout someone for their bad behavior, just inform your group of friends and let them spread the words to their group of friends. But knowing you can't control how your friends react and decided whether to continue interacting with this person. Everyone has the right to choose what they deemed right and nicer. Please I beg of you all to ⚠️⚠️⚠️ALWAYS Always remember callout post is only for informing potential dangerous people.❗❗❗❗❗ AND ALSO Anyone who read the callout post, just MOVE ON and BLOCK the person if you deemed the offender in the callout is unforgiving evil to you. It's best to not interact with things that's uncomfortable to you and Move ON with your life. ❗❗❗DO NOT attempt to HARRASS and DOXX the person!!❗❗❗ You never know if the person's house you sent a S.W.A.T to have any innocent family members. The blood is on you if something like that happens instead to the person you hate. Therefore, it's not okay to DOXX people even if they claimed to be the worst person you ever met. Finally I urge everyone to think critically and never only trust one side of the coin without getting as much proof and full knowledge view on the situation.

Thank you for reading🙏🙏

This Post is by someone that wants to remain anonymous, they DM'd me this and asked me to post

The callout campaign against Kagebros has gone WAY too far. The lengths these people have gone to violate someone’s boundaries and privacy in order to “warn” people is incredibly excessive and is dealing horrible damage to their mental health and wellbeing. It needs to fucking stop.

The situation has spiraled completely out of control, spurred on by people who would rather side with a proud AI artist than have a civilized, adult discussion about tracing. Said AI artist has a history of attempting to ruin Kagebros’ credibility, spreading disinformation and rumors about them and their nonprofit charity zines, now going as far as to allegedly incite people to nonconsensually take photos of them at their booth at TFcon Baltimore, and block-evading their socials in order to find more posts to pick apart.

As they have stated already, Kagebros never had ANY intention to scam people, which understandably doesn’t change how those affected may feel. That being said, they could have very easily traced over things without altering them in any way at all, like many others within the convention vending sphere have blatantly done without a callout from these same people who care so much about “calling out tracing”. There tends to be a gray area in the realm of tracing techniques within the art industry (especially professionally), and there is plenty of merit for their actions to be criticized. As they’ve stated, they were under the impression that Official artwork/figures were okay to trace over and alter, which they now know to avoid doing so in the future. Even if the details and credibility of the piece can be scrutinized, they still made a conscious effort to alter the pieces in question to be more original.

Although said effort may not be enough for most, they now KNOW that. End of story. They can't immediately change the pieces they had available for sale, and they should be showing change through their future pieces and actions, which is something that’s up for judgment by anyone. And yet the people starting this have needlessly dragged it on, inciting others to keep spreading the accusations to further audiences, leading to more harassment.

Seafoamsol had admittedly unblocked Kagebros and “offered” to have a talk with them about the situation, but their own intentions are extremely questionable, as a conversation should have been the first priority, rather than a callout post. They assumed Kagebros’ intentions without giving them a single chance to address it themselves before the callout, and are now going forward with the narrative of them being a scammer.

Again, if they truly were concerned, they could have unblocked them and had a conversation before the callout was made, instead of assuming their intentions were to deceive people.

The situation is very nuanced, meaning there's a lot of points to be acknowledged on both sides in order to come to a conclusion, which could have happened peacefully if adults just had a civil discussion with each other. There is a justifiable talk to be had here, and reasonable changes to be made, but this can’t be accomplished productively if people continue to jump to conclusions and assume intentions. This has done nothing–and WILL do nothing–but hurt people, if this behavior doesn’t stop. mistakes will be made, lessons will be learned. Please look at this situation in its entirety before coming to your own conclusions based on assumptions made by people with evidently questionable motives and a history of causing problems for others and driving them out of the community.

Thank you for reading.

#long post #kagebros #callout post #IT NEVER OK to made callout post without prior communication to understand both side of the situation #Please allow people time to change after learning new knowledge #DO NOT HARRASS Both side of the people #I hate drama but I have something to say #transformers

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junedenim · 3 days ago

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2010

beneath the boardwalk, part 8 (series masterlist)

glass in the park

warnings: the usual...angst, fluff, smut, etc.

word count: 13k

In late January, I bought a fur coat. I don't know if it's real or faux because I still haven't determined the difference in feeling between the authentic and the fake but I thrifted it so there's no guilt if it is made out of a poor chinchilla or something. It carried a dramatic feeling with it. I would wear it all the time. Sometimes, I would go out on walks just to wear it. I'd walk from my apartment to Grand Central and take the subway back just to make sure people saw it.

Alex returned to touring around the same time. While I was in a dirty slush-filled New York, Alex was travelling through the coastal cities of France. I knew it was cold there too but I'm sure it was much more conventionally beautiful and I envied him at times when I came home and my socks were soaked through.

We tried to talk on the phone daily, but time zones were difficult. We promised one another to always call on Saturday mornings for me so if we missed previous days in the week, I would always be able to tell him about my work week on Saturday.

Alex seemed to have everything and nothing going on. He'd play shows, get drunk or high, play ping-pong, take pictures of the Belem Tower, and watch Mighty Mouse.

I was busy. I liked it. My work would sometimes be straightforward office work, sometimes I'd visit places to review, sometimes they sent me home early to test products out, and sometimes they had me stay late to review products. I had a group of friends that I went out drinking with on Fridays and it was social drinking, not drinking to get drunk. One night, I ordered a Shirley Temple and laughed about it on the subway ride home at the thought of my younger self seeing me: a sober girl taking the subway home alone from the bar. It was nice to finally like myself. Or at least who I was becoming.

In my empty time, I wrote autobiographical things. I sometimes sent things to Alex but I found my writing became more introspective and it wasn't details I wanted to share with him. I was fearful of why I felt the need to hide it, but I didn't even feel much like reading it.

My friend, Fennel (he hates his name too), said it came from an overprotective biological need that all women must hide things from men, even if they are loving and trusting. I didn't think so. I told him I trusted Alex more than I trusted myself. He told me that was the issue.

Fennel cultivated weed on the balcony of his apartment in Murray Hill. He had a boyfriend named Kaka, who was a former Chippendales stripper and currently worked for Goldman Sachs. Sometimes, when he got drunk enough he'd reenact a routine. They were both in their early 40s, shared a dog named Rooster, and, still to this day, had the most luxurious apartment I have ever seen.

The building had a disheveled front but inside they had an open floor plan, a kitchen that was larger than my apartment, and the glorious aforementioned balcony. Fennel was a creative director at Condé Nast and had taken a liking to me because of my crooked teeth and what he called my "gemütlich" British accent.

I went over to their place nearly every week. They often had parties and I'd arrive in the early afternoon claiming to help them set up but I'd eat their fancy Bonilla a la Vista potato chips and play with Rooster. Their dinner parties were grandiloquent and their house parties were glamourously gauche.

One Sunday, I went over early through Fennel's insistence on dressing me. It was Pygmalion in a way or maybe I was the Edie Sedgwick to his Andy Warhol (I said this to him once and he took great offence because Warhol slept with Edie and he had no intention of taking advantage of me) but I quite liked it. I felt like a living doll and through his higher-up position and wealth, he was able to obtain fabulous pieces that he let me keep.

I walked around barefoot in their apartment wearing a Yohji Yamamoto (Fennel insulted me for not knowing who that was) white dress that flowed with every step I took while discussing Alex, who they had yet to meet.

"I can't believe you've been with him since you were 18." Kaka marvelled at this fact every time we talked about Alex.

"We had some brief pauses in there but yeah. You guys have been together for over a decade."

Fennel chuckled. "We were both in our 30s. It's quite the difference."

I sat on their black leather couch and leaned my head on the back of it. They were both setting the table. I was relaxing. "Yeah but isn't it hard at any age?"

"Sure but if I was still with the same person I was with at 18...well, that was a woman so it wouldn't count," Fennel laughed.

"Are you going to marry him?" Kaka asked. He was a complete romantic who would often say how much he loved love.

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know if I ever want to get married."

"Independence?" Fennel questioned as he pulled out a wine bottle.

"Parents."

"Ah," he sighed.

"But I have a feeling they always hated each other. I've always loved Alex. Does that make me lovesick and annoying?" I turned my head to ask them.

"Yes, but it's admirable. You seemed to have picked the right one. Good looking, loyal, you talk about him so sweetly," Kaka praised.

"I sometimes wonder if he picked the right one." It wasn't a newfound concern. I always felt secure in my relationship with Alex, not so much in myself. Occasionally, the worry of whether he could do better than me peeked itself out, usually when he was away and I didn't have the physical reassurance.

"Hush!" Kaka told me. "Any woman is better than a man. Take it from me." He kissed me on my cheek and it was nice to feel so fabulous. Fennel let me keep the Yamamoto. I try it on whenever I feel insecure.

I got sick on Valentine's Day. I had been unscathed for too long and on the morning of Alex's return from Europe—Valencia, Spain to be specific—I woke up with the urge to vomit. So, I vomited. And when Alex arrived home, I was vomiting.

I heard his bag drop while I was keeling over the toilet. The clacking of his boots on our wood floors stopped at the tile of our bathroom as he said, "Jesus, are you okay?" He hesitated, surely disgusted, before kneeling on the floor beside me, rubbing my back.

I had emptied most of my stomach and was dry heaving mostly. I slumped against the wall, catching my breath. "Welcome home." I managed a faint smile and my sarcasm didn't cause any laughter from Alex.

His hand stroked my forearm. He still had his jacket on and I was in my pajamas. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just woke up nauseated."

"Food poisoning?" He suggested as he stroked his thumb over my knee.

I shook my head. "No, no. I feel fine now."

I attempted to stand up but Alex held me down. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just need to lay down for a little." I slowly stood, reorienting myself.

Alex, still kneeling proposal-style, offered, "Alright. Do you want me to carry you?"

I laughed. "I can manage to walk five feet to the bedroom, Alex." I headed toward our unmade bed.

"I can manage to carry you five feet to the bedroom." He wanted to make sure I knew that.

I smiled and to placate his need to help I had him get me a glass of water. He returned, jacket- and shoeless, with my glass of water. I took a sip and placed it on the bedside table we found at the Grand Bazaar last December. Alex sat in front of me, taking my feet into his lap. "You think it's the flu?"

I shook my head and slumped back onto the pillows up against the headboard. "No, no. I feel fine and I don't have a fever."

"Hungover?" He smirked, poking fun.

"No," I mocked. "An upset stomach. I'm fine now. How have you been? How was the flight?"

"Fine," he quickly answered. "Did you eat anything this morning?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine," I insisted. "How are you?"

"Fine. Do you want me to get you something? Tea? Crackers?" He continued to pester.

"No. Can we talk about something else or else I might vomit on you?" I crossed my arms, frustrated with myself for ruining the morning, frustrated with him for continuing to ruin this reunion.

"I'm just concerned something might be wrong. Should we go to the doctor?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine. I know my own body. It was just a little morning bug."

His eyes shot up and wide looking straight at me as if he had just gotten an electric shock. "Do you think you could be...?"

I took my feet off his lap, criss-crossing them. "Oh, god, I'm not pregnant. Calm down."

"You sure? When was your last...you know?" He moved his hand up and down in front of his stomach.

I raised my eyebrows and laughed. "Period? What are you? A 12-year-old boy, you can't say the word?"

He sat awkwardly, a nervous look on his face. "No, it's just, you know..."

"I don't know and I don't know where this sudden weird behavior of yours is coming from." I sipped on the water and rolled my eyes behind my closed lids.

He reached out to rub my knee again. It was becoming rather annoying like a fly pestering you. "I'm concerned. That's all. So? When was it?"

I shrugged. "Like a month ago. I don't know."

He was bug-eyed and staring into my soul. "Well, are you late?"

"I don't keep track of that stuff." It was probably laziness or maybe because I was on birth control. Granted, I wasn’t very regular with that anymore. I never liked taking it and Alex hadn’t been there for a month.

"You don't keep track!" He stood up, pacing like it was the 1950s and he was stuck in the hallway while I was giving birth.

"You don't even have a period." I crossed my arms and leaned further back into bed. I was tired. He must have been jet lagged too. Why weren’t we sleeping?

"Yeah, but I am having sex with you."

"We last had sex a month ago. I'm not pregnant."

"And have you had a period since?"

I sighed. "No."

He exhaled and his head fell to his chest. He looked like my father. His head slumped after my mother disappointed him. It terrified me. Like I had done something wrong by not shedding my uterine lining. I didn't feel pregnant. Alex's concern made me concerned but I was more scared by the way his head sank.

"Should I go buy a test?" I asked. I didn't feel like fighting that I wasn't. I got an eerie feeling like I was overhearing my parents fight but I had suddenly body swapped with my mother. It felt like some trust had snapped in between Alex and me. For him, he'll say it wasn't and that it was based solely on concern. I thought otherwise. Like his paranoia had overtaken him.

"I'll go," he offered.

I shook my head and went to my dresser for a change of clothes. "No, it's fine." It's wicked that in my mind I held more worry over someone catching Alex Turner with a pregnancy test than actually being pregnant.

I threw the fur coat on and made my way to the nearby CVS. I had never bought one before. I don't know if I thought I ever would but I suppose I imagined it over different circumstances—a happy one, maybe with someone beside me with equal excitement. I bought a tube of toothpaste and a bag of Cheetos. I still had vomit on my breath.

Alex was sitting on the couch when I returned. His fingers were tapping the armrest and he had the TV on The View but he held a locked stare with the front door, meeting my eyes as I walked in.

I tossed the plastic bag on the coffee table and collapsed on the couch beside him. "I don't have to pee."

"Okay."

I grabbed the remote sitting between us and began to flip channels. Not much of anything good was on that early. I felt Alex staring at me but he didn't speak so I didn't speak. I landed on Notting Hill. "I hate this movie," I said just to have something to say.

He didn't say anything. Not even a Hugh Grant joke.

A half-hour passed in silence beside the movie before I stood up, dug the box out, and went to the bathroom. Not a word from Alex. I slammed the bathroom door shut.

I fumbled with the test for a while, struggling to open the box's lid. I wondered if Alex didn't join me in the bathroom because he thought I needed privacy or because he was upset. I think he was mostly just a scared little boy.

He felt so little to me in that moment and not in the way I loved. He was small and made my blood boil, even if I couldn't fully blame him for his concern. But his silence bugged me. His impassive form on the couch, a refusal to move or communicate. He had a habit of getting in his own head and barring entry. He'd say it was his personality. I'd say it was immaturity.

I took the test and waited for the results to appear alone in the bathroom. Negative, as expected. Still, I was left with uncertainty about what to do. I was mad at him but I didn't want to yell. I was relieved but I didn't want to celebrate. I was left where he was: silence.

Alex was still where I had left him. I put the test on the coffee table and sat down beside him, the last 10 minutes of Notting Hill playing. But he didn't move to look at it. His head turned to me instead. He was reading my face rather than the test. I stayed neutral and stared onward, refusing his enticing gaze.

"I'm sorry if I made you..." He hadn't fully grasped what I was thinking. I tend to think men and women are mostly the same but I find our biological difference is showcased in those times of stress. "It's negative. Right?"

I nodded, staring at Julia Roberts, arms crossed. "Mhmm."

He scooted closer to me. "Jane." His hand landed on my sweatpants-covered thigh and my eyes decided to finally snap over to him, small, tiny, scared little boy Alex. "I would've..."

"What?"

He looked at me as if he didn't expect a reaction from me. His expression was stunned and his hand stilled. "I don't know." You brought his hand up to his forehead, pushing his long strands back over his head. He took a deep breath. "This whole morning has felt like whiplash."

I scoffed, "Yeah." My head turned away from him. I was battered with the feeling of numbness. In the past, I think I would've cried. Or yelled. Now, I felt indifferent. I didn't know how to feel about that either.

"Have I ruined Valentine's Day?" He asked in an attempt to make me laugh.

I shut off the TV and stood up. "Yeah." I walked away to the bedroom. Alex stayed out in the living room.

When I went out to the kitchen, Alex was asleep on the couch. I made as much noise in the kitchen as possible to wake him up. I knew he was jet lagged and tired but I was a scorned woman.

I started the tea kettle and turned around to see a yawning Alex. "Do you want tea?" I offered.

He shook his head and placed his hands on the back of a chair. "I'm sorry for being an asshole." I turned away, not particularly interested in looking at him, instead I searched for a mug. "I suppose I have a habit of that. But I figured we could go out tonight. Go to a pub. Get some drinks."

Alex smiled, proud of himself for upholding a minimal tradition in my eyes. "I have plans tonight."

I didn't expect him to roll over and die. "Oh. Okay." He sat down on one of the stools and said nothing else.

There was no fight in him, meaning I had to be the one to fight. "Fennel and Kaka are having a party. I told them we'd go."

"That'll be fun.” He sent me a complacent smile. “I'll finally get to meet them."

I smiled back just as limitingly. "They've heard a lot."

He looked down at his hands. "Bad, I'm sure."

I exhaled. "I don't hate you, Alex."

"Feels like it." He was moody and refused eye contact, almost like he was me. We had been around each other for so long that we had become each other. People would say this to me but I rarely saw it.

"Call it PMSing. It just wasn't the best greeting."

He nodded, the understanding slowly seeping into him. "I know. I'm sorry for that."

"I woke up early to be awake when you got back and there I go getting sick."

He looked guilty. Solemn and culpable. "I should be making you tea."

I turned back with a smile. "Yeah. You should."

He walked closer and hugged my side. He placed a kiss on my temple and squeezed me close to him. "Go sit down. I'll bring this over to you."

I kissed his cheek. "Alright."

Fennel and Kaka's apartment was stuffed with everything. People, liquor, drugs, music, hearts. Alex wore a white shirt with a suit jacket over top. I wore a pink floral Roberto Cavalli cocktail dress, Fennel provided. Maybe it was because of our fight earlier or maybe I had just changed since I had seen Alex last, but I held a superiority complex over him. The silk of my dress wrapped me in elegance and the rough quality of his suit jacket. Oh, shit, I was becoming posh.

Looking back, I wasn't dignified or aware enough that my mother held these opinions of my father as well. However, I was also in a bitter state, and even Alex said I looked better than him so I wasn't really kidding myself.

People held cocktails and canapés were being moved throughout the room. Alex and I stood in the corner silently, I sipped the edge of my gimlet to keep it from spilling. Alex drank a whiskey. I kept thinking about it, in an ashamed way, but then I found humour in it and thought it best to break the ice and tell Alex what I was thinking. "We really are my mother and father."

He turned, originally with a neutral look on his face before spotting the crack of my smile. He breathed laughter out and lifted his glass, taking a slow sip from it. I imagine he was looking for something to say. We hadn't spoken for so long that his vocal chords must’ve needed a refresher course. He dropped the glass to his side. "I hope all the good parts."

I chuckled. "You say that like there are some."

He tossed his head side-to-side. "They've always had elegance to them. They intimidate me. The way the act is, you know..." He moved his hand like he was fishing for the word, trying to find it in the ocean of his mind.

"Posh?" I suggested.

His jaw dropped. "Now, Janie, I would never say that."

"Oy! Jane Cavendish!" It was Fennel, approaching us with Kaka following behind him. They were both dressed in matching maroon suits, each with a cocktail. "Beautiful. Always beautiful. And this must be Alex. Oh, how we've waited for this moment."

"Don't say that. You'll make him nervous," I told them. Alex didn't like it when I told people this. He found it to be invasive for other people—those not close to him—to know his emotions. I found Fennel and Kaka to be trustworthy of this information.

Alex peered over at me like I was his mother embarrassing him in front of his friends. "It's nice to finally meet you both." He shook their hands and they were both very impressed by this. I could tell.

"You both look lovely," I told them.

"Ralph Lauren," Fennel replied. He moved his hand down the fabric of his suit. "Red velvet. Feel." He reached out for my hand and rubbed it up against the velvet, the smoothness running under my fingers. "Now, you, Alex." He grabbed Alex's hand doing the same. It was awkward and made me giggle but Fennel always had a way of putting people at ease. At the sound of my enjoyment, Alex chuckled, nodding his head in approval of the fabric choice.

Kaka told Alex, "Has Jane told you how jealous we are of you two?"

Alex looked over at me at the knowledge of this news. "No, no. Why?" He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"The romance," Kaka swooned. "I wish I could have met Fennel sooner but we were a mess at your age. To find your love so early and keep it going and in the way you two are. If I was doing that at 23, I'd be a mess. Young love is just so lovely. Sorry, I'm a little inebriated."

Alex chuckled. "That's fine."

"You're a very beautiful couple," Fennel said. "I know a lot of ugly ones. Inside and out."

"Well, we had a fight before this so, if that brings us down from paradise for a bit." Alex seemed shocked I had said this. I thought I sounded like my 17-year-old self again. It was honest to me but it was also childish.

Fennel waved his hands. "Fights are great. You should have makeup sex in the bathroom."

I asked, "But where will everyone do coke?" We all laughed. Alex too, if not out of humour than of peer pressure.

Hours passed. We talked with some of my co-workers and Fennel's and Kaka's cultured friends. While Alex was in the bathroom, I talked with David Remnick and nearly fainted out of nervousness because I couldn't remember how to say Ibuprofen.

Alex and I went to the balcony to smoke. The city rushed by below and we each lit a cigarette up alone. I sighed and leaned on the railing, my head in my hand. It was so hot in the apartment but I felt so chilly outside as the wind rushed by. I felt Alex place his hand on my back. He was like a hot water bottle. He knocked against my spine like he was checking to make sure all my vertebrae were still in place. "You look like Juliet."

I turned my head to look at him but his head was off to the left, the smoke escaping out of the side of his mouth. He looked like he was stargazing, even though he couldn't have seen any in that light-polluted sky. His touch on me was this firm thing. I had never felt him so strongly like he wanted me to know he was still standing there beside me.

"The moon is so bright," he said. I looked into his eyes, searching for it in there. I followed his line of sight before my own landed on the glowing sphere hanging up in the sky. It stood bold against the black void surrounding it.

I looked at Alex, bold as ever. I couldn't manage anything with my tongue. I just stared at him while he stared at the moon. I don't know if he felt my eyes on him or if he was so enraptured with the moon that he couldn't handle looking anywhere else.

I sighed, standing up straight. I don't know what I was thinking by standing up so quickly. I don't know why I didn't just stay there and watch him for hours. "I've never understood the whole man-in-the-moon thing."

Alex shrugged, still staring above. "You can see anything if you look long enough."

I scuffed my cigarette out on the railing but kept the dog end in my hand. "Do you think if I stare at it long enough I'll see you?"

He hummed his response. I wasn't sure if we were speaking in some kind of code or just dancing around one another's words. Everything felt off, even if we looked so on track. I was uneasy in finding a response. He acted like he wanted to be alone but his hand persisted its touch on my back. His lips wrapped around his smoke and his eyes stared off into the lights of the city.

My arms crossed and I stood at what felt like such a distance. I stepped sideways, figuring Alex to be done with me and on to his stargazing. I'd have greater engagement talking to the walls inside and at least then I'd have a cocktail too. I turned away and his hand grazed across my back as I moved.

"I feel like I've done something wrong," Alex finally spoke. I had my back to him and it felt like I may never look at him again. Either he or my feet wouldn't allow me to turn around to see him. "I overstepped earlier."

My hand went to my forehead and it was like my brain was going to swell up and push itself out of my skull. I spun around on my heels. He was leaning back against the rail nonchalantly but held such caution in his bones. His eyes had a hard time staying on mine as he committed to the nervous habit of playing with his nails and tapping the end of his cigarette. "It's fine. I don't want to fight about it. I'm tired."

"Okay." He deflected his silence onto me, acting as if I was the one causing tension between us. Earlier that was the case but I dropped it in the kitchen and moved on with life. The whole day Alex held a wall around him. It wasn't a new thing for him to have his guard up, but I usually wasn’t the one blocked from entering.

I swore to myself long ago, after our break-up in '07 that I wouldn't be accusatory to Alex. Trust had always been strong but we always had a weak link. His stare now penetrated me and I felt like the nervous one. My arms stayed crossed but my hands began to squeeze the sides of me and I looked away, inside at the party, which had grown louder as the pretense of class had dropped with the amount of alcohol and drugs. "Did something happen on tour?"

My eyes moved back at his quietness. I had a sick feeling in my stomach but I didn't feel like I had a right to. I'm the one who fucked up before so I'd forgive him if he did now. Instead of guilt, he stared at me like he didn't know what language I was speaking. "No. Why?"

I don't know if he wanted me to feel sorry for him because I was accusing him of something that he didn't do or if he was as lost as I was when it came to this stalemate. "You just seem off. That's all."

He shrugged. "It's been a weird day." I was hit with a wave and I'm still figuring out whether it was from nostalgia or because I actually did see it but I swore he looked 17 again at that moment. I'll always see glimpses of that. The locked-in memory of his first impression. Through his long hair and whatever frustration he seemed to have, I smiled because we were standing in a garden. One that was on a balcony and was mainly weed other than one pot of zinnias.

I dropped my arms and plucked at the fabric of my dress. I didn't tell him what I thought. I thought myself to be a little childish in my reminiscing but it was Valentine's Day and I don't know why we went to this party because I always just wanted Alex to myself. I was a desperate woman with a sole propensity to be alone with Alex, especially when it was the day of his homecoming. I blamed it on my period, which I got the following day (not pregnant).

"You didn't want to come here tonight?" I said it as a question but it was a statement. I was already sure of Alex's stance. His inability to relax around strangers and his reluctance to engage in small talk. I knew he also had an inclination to be alone with me.

He played nice though. Always gave in to me easily on these kinds of dilemmas because it's what I wanted. He couldn't give me much in other areas (I had just finally won the whole location problem) so he found it expected to do what I wanted to do when he was around. But, sometimes (I use sometimes very loosely because I do in fact like getting my way), I liked doing what he wanted to do. Most of all, my favourite thing was talking to him. So, why would I spend a whole night chit-chatting with other people? (Besides, David Remnick because that really was a dream come true).

"I'm having fun." He wasn't very convincing. A tone of neutrality and a shrug of his shoulders that just looked like disinterest.

I chuckled to myself. "I'd like to give myself some credit. I know you better than anyone else so I know that you're full of shit."

He laughed and finally dropped his cigarette and his rough shoulders. "I'm just tired."

"Sure," I dragged out, unconvinced. "I'm kind of wishing we just went to a pub or something."

Alex looked down and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. I'm wishing a lot of things right now."

My brows furrowed and I wanted to look closer at him but his hand and hair shielded his expression. "Like what?"

He put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the city. "I don't know. I think I'm just a little messed up right now."

I stepped forward, wanting to stand next to him, wanting to touch him. I moved close enough that he was forced to look at me. "What's going on?"

The browns of his eyes looked darker and shinier as if they had been glazed over. I wanted to touch his face and have him lean into my hand, but I wanted to hear what he had to say first. He fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket but I had him cornered. "Just in my head. The usual."

"About what? Me?" It might have been selfish to think so but he looked like he might cry while looking at me and I don't think I had felt that insecure in front of Alex in years.

He shook his head. "I don't even want to say it. It's so stupid."

"I don't want you to leave it in there."

His eyes darted in a million directions before landing on mine. "Just things are changing."

It took me a second to understand. It took me a gust of wind passing before I pointed to myself. "Me?"

He rattled his brain with the shake of his head. "I'm just in my head, Janie."

I grabbed his upper arm, forcing him to take notice of me. "Well, let me in. You know, I like when we talk." I smiled up at him and he released the hint of a smile, a sparkle behind his eyes. "I like knowing what's going on and what you have to say, what you're thinking. I don't get much of that while you're away and I think we both stew in our thoughts for so long that we're practically bored of it by the time we see the other and then we think we don't have to bother saying anything. But I've never heard about this and I want to know about this. I want to know about you if you let me."

A grin covered his face, so wide his teeth peeked through to wave to me. "What?" I asked. His smile just seemed to grow bigger and his eyes cast down on me. I thought he might kiss me but I'm glad he didn't, I didn't want to get distracted. "What?" I insisted, punching his leaning figure.

"Nothing," he said so cheerfully. I thought he might have taken something to cause this sudden change. He put his hand on my shoulder like he wanted to touch me but wanted to make sure we kept our distance. "I just love the way you talk. I don't know. Like the way you know how my brain works and you feel everything I'm feeling. I just...I love talking to you too. It's what I've always loved about you. I feel like I can't do this with anyone else. Just lay myself out and never have to worry. I think I forgot the feeling."

I wrapped my arm around his neck, closing the distance, and having us stand chest-to-chest. "We'll blame the jetlag."

"Sorry for being moody. I think it's an after-effect of prolonged homesickness."

"It's fine. I suffer from it too." It made me smile that we both considered each other home. It was cheesy and cliche but that didn’t make it untrue.

"Do you think there's a cure?" He moved closer and it took me that long to realize we hadn't kissed all day between the vomit and the fighting and the party. I should be put in jail for this.

I didn't kiss him right away. I hugged him first just to feel him, make sure he was there, all of him. "I might start with getting out of here."

Alex insisted, "Don't make me force you to leave."

"I wouldn't if I didn't want to. I'm craving shitty fries and chairs that squeak." And him. I really craved him.

"You love it when we play poor together."

"I love when we're together." We finally kissed at that point, waiting any longer felt like too much. He was right with me and I never wanted him to leave. If we kissed any longer we might have fallen off the side of the balcony. Together.

I dragged him through the apartment with me, trailing like my puppy but he was my loyal dog. His hand was clasped in mine and I kissed both Kaka's and Fennel's cheeks and promised to have dinner sometime soon for a more proper introduction to Alex. "Enjoy your Valentine's, love," Kaka said in his drunken impersonation of a British accent.

"You too," Alex said for both of us.

He put my fur coat on me and we left onto the sidewalk of the loved-up city. We decided to walk back in the direction of our apartment and land at a shitty bar along the way. We walked side-by-side like we were two anxious teenagers again. I suppose we had regressed in the absence of one another and the readjustment was more structurally unsound than usual.

"So, uh," I started, "you think I've changed too much?"

He threw his head back. "Don't listen to me."

I grabbed his arm, tugging on it. "No, I want you to be honest with me. None of this evasiveness."

Alex put his arm around my shoulder, pushing me into him. "I'm just catching up a little. You've been busy while I've been gone and I like that."

"But too much too quick?" Fennel and Kaka and the load of other people they had in their apartment could be too much. It overwhelmed me at times and I knew most of the people in the room.

We stopped at a corner, waiting for a light. He turned his head to look directly at me. "Just give me a bit of a grace period." He smiled so carefully. Not in a calculated way but to reaffirm his statement.

I smiled back. "I'd give you anything you want." It was probably too much to give a person, something I wasn't even willing to give to myself, but we were sharing a desperate kind of love. It wasn't the healthiest but he was the only person I knew would love me no matter what.

He seemed struck by this statement, unable to tear his eyes away to spot the green light in front of us. I pointed ahead at it but he didn't move his feet. He bent down and kissed my cheek firmly. I think he would have stayed there forever if I hadn't pushed him and insisted we cross the street before the light turned red again. He leaned down and whispered, "Ditto."

We stopped at The Scratcher in the East Village. It was Irish but akin to English by nature. It had exposed brick and when I asked the bartender for a Guinness (me) and lager shandy (Alex) he talked with me about England long after he had given me our drinks. The lighting was low and it was late but the bar was still full with mostly lonely hearts, save us and a few other couples.

Alex found us a table in the back corner by a group of rowdy men and for a bit it did feel like we were back home. "That's what I love about New York," I mused to him. "I find pieces of home here. I never found that in Los Angeles. Too deserty."

Alex leaned his cheek on his fist. His eyes looked tired but his smile stayed exercising. "You seem really happy here."

I shrugged. It was hard to admit these things. Like if I spoke it out loud it would cease to be true. "I guess, in a way, it feels like it’s something I did on my own. I know I'm not alone but...you know what I mean."

His eyes flashed down at the table and he sat up straight, leaning back against his chair. "Yeah. I know what you mean." He sipped his drink and I could tell he was going to say something once he washed his words down. "I really like it here too." The infliction in his voice was distracted as if he was thinking about 10 other things. I didn't know which one to ask about.

"Tour's almost over." I was ashamed that it flew by for me. Maybe because I was more occupied. I thought it should have felt like it dragged on forever. The way I used to feel about it. Granted it was shorter than the previous tours but I had never been this involved with Alex. We shared a home now, yet, his things—his clothes next to mine and the record collection collecting dust—didn't make me long for him, yearn for him. Perhaps, it was growing up. Perhaps, it was growing apart.

I circled my finger around my glass's edge. "I don't know if I'll be able to get off for the London shows."

"That's fine." He has always been so accepting. Like most things, it was a blessing and curse. Sometimes, I hated that he didn't put up a fight. He never told me what he desired, even with things like LA. It was a work obligation, not something he wished for. Maybe it's because I always wanted too much and Alex balanced it out by wanting too little.

"I got off work tomorrow. If you want to do anything."

He smirked. "I have one idea." Alex did desire some things.

I cut Alex's hair a week later. He complained of it being too long and I suggested he go to the barber and then he said I should do it. It was late but we were very happy.

We shared a glass of wine. I had Alex sit in the bathtub and I kneeled on the tile floor. We washed it first and then emptied the bathtub before I began to cut it. "What if you end up not liking it?" I questioned. I wasn't nervous. If anything I was power-hungry holding the kitchen scissors.

"I'll like it. It'll grow back either way. How bad could you fuck it up?” He chuckled before saying, “Last time you did this we broke up. Can't fuck up more than that."

His laughter induced me to join him. I sipped the wine before passing it to him. It felt very adult and I told him that. He said, "I could do this forever."

Alex experienced his first nor'easter blizzard at the end of February. I had experienced my first at the beginning of the month. He was quite excited for it. It was childish excitement like he was going to receive a snow day. I suppose his snow day was the fact that I didn’t have to go to work. I ended up getting Thursday and Friday off, which, well, did feel like a snow day.

However, it was cold. Like really cold. We ventured outside at the start of the storm to collect groceries and experience the snowfall. We got into a snowball outside our building’s front door before the snow turned to slush. Alex accidentally ended up hitting Russ Tillerson, who lived on the floor below us. He had a good spirit and laughed before shoving snow down Alex’s back, smushed in between his skin and his coat.

It took me a good few minutes to recover from laughter over Alex’s shivers. “It’s not fun,” he insisted, still patting snow out.

I hit his thick jacket with my gloved hand. “You’re not a good sport.”

He pouted and whined, “I don’t want to be a good sport. I want to be warm.”

I stroked his cheek, rubbing the icicle crystals stuck on my glove onto his skin making him wince. “Awwww. Poor baby. I’ll run you a bath when we get back.” He quite enjoyed that bath.

The days were fun but long. We watched TV and had sex for most of it. We ate sloppy like we were at a slumber party. We got high Friday night while watching Goodfellas. I ate a bag of salt & vinegar chips and half a pack of Chips Ahoy! Alex ate a whole pack of Oreos and drank enough Coke to shut down your organs.

“I’m sorry I’m so high,” I apologized.

He waved me off and sunk deeper into the couch pillows. “It’s fine. I wish we had more Coke.”

“We could do coke coke.”

“You have coke coke?”

“No. But we could get some?” It was candy in my new circle. Easy to obtain, sweet to do, horrible for you.

“Nah,” he rejected. “You’ve done it?”

“Yeah. I used to do it with…what’s his name…Robert.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry I’m so quiet,” I apologized again.

“You’re good.”

“Ray Liotta is so hot.”

“You’re so hot.”

“Mhmm.” My eyes moved away from blue eyes to Alex’s brown. He had sat up from his slump and was leaning on the armrest, observationally. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” He smirked, all-knowing.

“You know…how horny I get…” His smirk grew. “Don’t look at me like that!”

He curled his fingers, beckoning me to him. “Come here. Let me do you.”

I laughed and closed my eyes, prepared to succumb to sleep. His foot knocked mine. “What?”

“C’mon.”

He came to me. And, well, in me.

Alex left halfway through March, narrowly missing another nor’easter, but this time less severe. Opal came a few days later for work. She stayed at the Bowery Hotel, a few blocks east of me. I had walked by it a million times and always longed to go in. It was my second most desired hotel after the Plaza.

She was there for work but apparently now had a boyfriend there too but that was all supposed to be obvious. Opal talked about things like you already knew everything about it. She told outlandish stories where she'd say, "You know how Charlie is" when I had never heard of Charlie before. Nonetheless, she was exciting and good company.

Alex was in Baltimore by the time I called him while drunk. Opal and I had gone to House of Yes and said yes to every drink along the way. Opal left with some guy who wasn't her boyfriend but it's okay because they had an open relationship, I think. Therefore, I was left outside House of Yes going home alone. I don't blame Opal for ditching me; the guy was hot and I insisted she go by saying I wasn't drunk, just tipsy.

I called Alex and lit up a cigarette at the same time. He picked up after 2 rings while I was still muffled by the cigarette in between my teeth. "Hiya, honey," I mumbled.

I heard laughing, either from him or the drunkards around him. He had been drinking too but not heavily. "Hey, sweetie." He moved away from the sound. I imagined him tucking himself away in the back end of the tour bus.

"I'm needy and I miss you," I whined.

His soft chuckling rang through the phone. "What's that mean?"

"It means I'm walking to the subway in Brooklyn." I scraped my heels against the cement.

"Ah. You and Opal have fun?"

"Yeah, but I'm drunk and alone. She's probably having sex right now. Everyone is having sex right now." House of Yes was a very sexual place in 2010.

"I'm not."

"Yeah,” I giggled. “I figured that one out. Could you imagine? You're on the phone with me having sex."

"What? Like phone sex?" He teased me.

I scolded him, "I'm not having phone sex in public. I meant like you were fucking someone else and on the phone with me."

"Why would I fuck someone else?" His tone was puzzled and I think he was drunker than I thought he was at the time.

"I don't know. I'm drunk. There's no logic to my thinking."

"I don't think I'll ever have sex with someone else. It'd be weird."

"I'd have sex with other people."

"Really?" He didn’t sound worried. Just curious.

"Yeah. Like George Clooney or something."

"I'll let you have Clooney. I’d fuck Clooney."

"Nah. He wouldn't settle down with me anyway."

There was a pause of silence before he expressed, "Miss you."

"Yeah. Me too."

He buzzed as if the words were sinking in. "End of the month and then I'm all yours."

"I like that idea. I've been hanging out with Opal so much I think she's starting to hate me."

"No. She just needs hot ass like the rest of us." It had been a very lonely month in the sex department.

"I'm not hot ass?"

"You're the hottest ass."

"Subway's here."

"Okay. Let me know when you're home."

"Yeah. Love you."

He hummed in agreement.

Alex returned at the end of April. We relaxed back into domestic obliviousness. That weekend, we went over for dinner at Fennel and Kaka's. We drank wine, ate fancy chicken, and played with Rooster.

We sat at one end of their dining room table. Alex's nervousness had faded but he remained stiff, the obvious odd man out. We were laughing about work and Sally Condalteen's explosible haircut, all out of Alex's frame of reference.

Fennel, observing this, gasped and said, "I just realized I haven't even heard the story of how you two met."

I turned to Alex, who was looking at me. I was like a mother training a child to speak for themselves. "You tell it. I've never heard your side of things."

"Okay. Uh, well, Jane had a class with Matt, who is the drummer of, you know, the band, and he invited her to our first gig. We sort of knew each other—small college and that kind of thing—but never talked. So, at the venue, I went up to her and called her the wrong name. The whole night I figured I screwed things up and made a fool of myself. Then, I'm outside smoking and she comes out and I thought maybe I wouldn't say anything but then I realized I'd probably never get another chance, so..."

"You went for it?" Kaka, a big woosy romantic, grinned.

"Obviously," I answered.

"What about you? What did you think when he came up to you?" Fennel asked me.

I shrugged. "Nervous. I think. After, terrified."

"Why?" He was like a psychologist desperate to get to the bottom of things.

I shrugged. I didn't want to reveal my whole emotional state to them but their eyes stared at me. "He knew me better in one conversation than anyone in my life. It's stupid."

"No!" Fennel insisted. "It makes me believe in soulmates."

"Oh, god," I exhaled exasperatedly, rolling my eyes.

Kaka swatted at me. "Don't be so pessimistic."

"I have to be. I'm a realistic woman." Or a doubtful one. I was a recovering romantic at best.

Fennel turned his bark onto Alex. "You think you'll marry her, Alex?"

"Don't answer that,” I quickly insisted. “They're wanting to cause trouble. They did the same thing with me."

Alex looked tempted but listened to my instructions. He turned to the two men. "How'd you two meet?"

When we left there was a drizzle of rain. Not enough to wet your clothes, but enough to huddle close to one another as we walked to the subway. Alex squeezed my hip, playing with the sculpture of the bone. "Do you want to get married?"

"We've talked about this." The whole subject made me feel awkward. I felt too young for the subject.

But then Alex said, "No. I mean, do you want to get married tonight?"

"It's midnight!" Deflection.

"Then, in the morning."

I shook my head. "No."

Alex looked like the air had been taken out of him. He readjusted and continued walking. "Okay."

"Maybe in like two years." Or two decades. The whole thing gave me body sweats.

"What's the difference between now and 2 years?" He didn’t ask it accusatorially. He was inquisitive.

"We're 24!” Frontal lobe and all that. “I can't tell if you're being serious now or not?"

He lightly shook his hair around. "Maybe a little. If you wanted to, I would. I'd do whatever for you. If I can give it to you, I will."

"Are you sure?" He worried me too much when he talked about giving things to me. He had always stretched himself and I was sure one day he would break.

He squeezed my hand. "What's going on?"

"What's going on with you? This overcompensation or whatever. I don't want you to give me everything. Keep some for yourself."

He looked at me for a moment, thinking it over. Then, he said, "Fine. Half to you then."

"40%."

"45%."

We went to Coney Island because I really wanted to ride the Cyclone. It was the first really hot day of the year. Unknown to us, it was also Memorial Day Weekend, which meant the beaches were open, which meant everyone, their mother, and their grandmother were at Coney Island.

Alex could wait in lines. I could whine to Alex while we waited in lines. He bought us enough tickets to ride the Cyclone and then go home because I was miserable in the heat and in line. But the line to get on the Cyclone was long and we had been standing there for what felt like hours.

"It's been 5 minutes," he noted. "We can come back another day."

"No," I moaned. "I want to do it today. I had it all planned out. I had planned to ride a rollercoaster today."

He laughed. "How do you plan to ride a rollercoaster?"

"You eat light so you don't throw up."

Alex tossed his head back in laughter. Suddenly, he snapped his head down with a concerned look on his face. "Have you not eaten anything today?"

"Well, yeah, I didn't want to throw up."

"God,” he scoffed, “no wonder you're in a horrible mood."

"I'm not in a horrible mood."

He gave me a look. He grabbed my hand and yanked us out of line. "Where are we going?"

"To eat. The Cyclone will still be there next weekend."

When we went next weekend, I loved the Cyclone and wanted to ride every ride there. I then threw up after the tilt-a-whirl.

I wrote a piece for The Paris Review in June. Alex sent it to what felt like everyone we knew. He attached it with a note that The Paris Review was located in New York and not Paris. He was very fascinated by that.

He had flown to London for the theatrical release of Submarine when the piece was published. It felt like a mighty contrast. The songs Alex had written for Submarine were what I would describe as the last box that had yet to be unpacked in our apartment. They were vulnerable but covered in metaphors I'm not sure anyone understood other than me.

He had played them for me, asked for my opinion, revised, and played again. It was the first time Alex workshopped music with me since "Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts." I always thought it was because he didn't have the band to work with. He has denied this and said that the songs were meant for me first, the movie was inconsequential. I'm not sure how true that is and how much Alex just wants to take credit for being a romantic or something.

Either way, he wrote me a note before he left. He tucked it in my journal to make sure I wouldn't find it until he left. It read, There’s a piece of you in this, and in me.

My piece was fictional. It was about a girl who drinks too much coffee. It's hard to explain without it sounding stupid.

I didn't write about Alex much. Opal found this weird when I had shown her my work last year. She said he was such a big part of me that it seemed bizarre I didn't write about him. My explanation, mostly, was the protective quality I held over Alex. His songs were shielded in forty different metaphors before you got to me. In my work, as evidence here, I name names, especially in these years when my name was so attachable to Alex’s.

I had shifted back to writing fiction because that's what most literary magazines like The Paris Review accepted. Of course, I'm not a girl who drinks too much coffee at all.

I liked the stability of the Condé Nast job but I had been indulging myself in fantasies of writing a book again. When Alex returned to New York, I told him this over lunch. We went to Lexington Candy Shop, which is a diner, not a candy shop. Another thing Alex wouldn’t shut up about.

I drank a malt shake (coffee-flavoured) and Alex had a Coke (the old-fashioned way where the syrup and soda water is stirred together, not the really old-fashioned way with coke like Alex wouldn't stop joking about) while we waited for our food. "I think I want to go for it."

Alex was contagious. You could believe you could do anything with that smile. "You should. You have one guaranteed customer."

"Well, you'd read anything I'd write."

"'Cause it's good."

"Don't butter me up."

"Come on, you know you're a great writer, Janie. You don't get into The Paris Review as a shite writer."

"Shut up about The Paris Review," I laughed.

I reached across and squeezed my hand. It made me squirmish. "I'm never shutting up about The Paris Review and that's because I read this really good piece about coffee in it and—"

"Stop talking about coffee too. You're making me stressed."

"Ease up. You'll be a New York Times bestseller by this time next year."

I stood up, running away from his stress-inducing words. "I'm going to the bathroom."

He crossed his arms. "That won't change anything."

We returned home. Alex put on a record and I decided to act like I was reading a book until Alex sat beside me. Then, I decided to makeout with him. Hormones. I'm not sure what his excuse was since he wouldn't stop grabbing my ass. "Are we about to have sex to The Beatles?" I asked as "All My Loving" sounded out through our apartment.

"Yeah. It's what John Lennon would have wanted." He pushed me down into the couch cushions. I was the meat in a sandwich between the two.

"I love this song," I mused against his lips.

"Good,” he huffed. “Let's fuck to it."

"Stop," I shrieked, laughing too hard to focus on his penis. I pushed him up off of me and sat up, collecting the trash that had accumulated on the coffee table.

Like any typical guy, he said, "Come on, Janie, I had to take care of this myself all week."

I knocked, "You masturbated all week?"

"I did other things too," he joked.

I was slightly fishing for a compliment but I was genuinely curious too when I asked, "What do you do it too?"

He laughed at my question. He scruffed my hair up. "You, you fucking idiot. What else? What do you think about?"

I shrugged. "I don't masturbate."

"Liar."

"I don't," I insisted.

"You told me you used to have a vibrator."

"Not anymore." I hadn’t thought to bring it through customs. It was tossed around the London to LA move.

"You don't masturbate? Why?" Alex was still stuck in that heightened sexual teenage boy phase. It made it so sex seemed like the only answer. He eventually grew out of this but it was an enduring fixture of his personality for a while.

I shrugged. "I don't like it."

"How can you not like it?”

"I get all sad after. I don't really do it anymore." It made me depressed for the whole day after. I would think about growing up too quickly and dying alone. Maybe that’s just how I was in the aughts. I didn’t give it up completely. Things would change soon after this conversation. I also got on anti-depressants.

"Why?"

"Is it shocking that someone isn't thinking about sex 24/7?"

"Well, yeah.” I did think about it often but not like Alex, still-not-fully-matured did. “I'm not good enough to masturbate to." Now, he was fishing for compliments.

I stood up from the couch and walked to the garbage bin. "No, it's more like...the other way."

He turned to me with an open jaw. "I'm that good in bed?"

"Don't get an inflated ego on me. I'll refuse to have sex with you if you start boasting."

"I won't boast. I'll just show off." He pulled me down, stuffing me between him and the couch. He made a great effort into "proving it." In a way, it kind of ruined it. I mean, he had this smug look on his face the whole time and he was so into the thought that he was good at it that he started to not be good at it.

"When you get off your pedestal, sir, can you actually fuck me?" I asked.

He seemed to snap out of it and realized he was inside me and not himself. "Fuck. Sorry."

Later, around "Devil in Her Heart," Alex laid his head on my stomach. He'd move around and kiss around my stomach, sometimes rising up to my breasts, but mainly hanging out around my belly button.

I sighed from exhaustion, lust, and resignation. "I have to get glasses."

Alex laughed against my liver. "You can see fine. I think you've got a couple decades before you have to worry about glaucoma."

"No. The doctor told me I have to get glasses."

Alex seemed to find this really funny. "Are you serious? You're gonna look so geeky."

"Gee, thanks."

He kissed my diaphragm repeatedly. "I like nerds. Are you going to have to wear them all the time?"

"No, just at night. I've been struggling in the dark."

"You're gonna get night vision. Like Batman."

I got the glasses about a week later and I walked back into the apartment wearing them. Alex looked up from the couch, placed his hand over his heart, and said, "Everyone must hate you."

I tossed my keys in the little dish by the door that Alex had made it at a ceramics session that we did together about a month prior. "Enlighten me," I said with a laugh.

"You're just fucking gorgeous, Janie," Alex decided. He looked back down at his book like I burned his eyes.

I kicked my shoes off. "Careful. I'll get a complex."

"What? Like you'll finally believe me."

"I believe you," I promised. I had grown confident in myself or at least confident enough in Alex to believe he wasn't lying to me. "Or I'll try to."

I sat down beside him on the couch and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Here," he pointed his finger to the middle of the page, "read this sentence."

I rolled my eyes but obliged. "'So they went on for a good while, talking now of their cards and now about me, as though I were not in the room'—how long do I have to do this for?"

He smashed his lips against my cheek. "That's all." He returned to his book and I ordered us dinner.

A few days later, we were trapped inside due to the pouring rain. I was working on a review for work and Alex was reading. He had a cigarette in his mouth but it was unlit. I think he was going through the motions but couldn't go outside to smoke it and I refused to let him smoke indoors.

My feet poked at the side of his body. Every five minutes or so, I'd poke my toes into him. He'd laugh, whether provoked or ticklish, it was an acknowledgment of our presence with one another.

Thunder pounded through and Alex squeezed my foot to get my attention. I looked up at him through my lenses. He smirked, which I knew meant he was thinking something foul. "Can I fuck you with your glasses on?"

I don't mean for this year to seem particularly nasty but we did...you know...do it all the time. There wasn't much else to do. We were together all the time, we would talk over dinner, share this alone time together, and then I or Alex (usually Alex) would hit a point in the evening where we might as well just get on with it. Besides, this instant was pretty important. You know, with the thunderstorms. And my glasses. Alex really likes that part.

Alex and I went to an antique store in Dobbs Ferry because Fennel, who had been vacationing in Mykonos for the last month, needed me to pick up a statuaries from this rare antiques store. We decided to make a day trip out of it. Not there was much to do in Dobbs Ferry.

We shared headphones on the way up. Our moods were transactional through the iPod. Alex had this habit of scrolling his finger back and forth on the dial. It would make this scrolling noise, but I kind of liked that noise so I never stopped him.

We walked the town's aqueduct for a bit. It had felt like the city was on fire but just a little north felt cooler. Maybe it was the fresh rain with that dewy smell. Alex's jeans ended up getting grass stains on the butt of them because he sat down in the wet field.

At lunch, we shared a stack of pancakes and Alex let me eat all the bacon. "I can't remember the last time I had a proper breakfast," I said as I chewed into the syrup-soaked fried batter.

Alex chuckled. "It's noon. I think it's more like lunch."

"Shush," I forced him out. I looked around and observed the tiny diner we were in. It's exactly what you'd imagine for a small town with men having coffee at the counter and mother and child having lunch. "I like it here."

Alex nodded with a smile. "You like a small town."

I shook my head. "Just for a bit. Not forever."

At the start of August, Matt visited us for a week. He slept on the couch and ate all our food but we all had a great time. Not since Barnsley had just the three of us hung out, especially for an extended period of time. Matt and I—just the two of us—hadn't hung out in close to eight years. Not that we ever were best of friends but it's weird how he had adapted more into Alex's friend than my friend. Nonetheless, he still felt like a brother to me. Or maybe brother-in-law.

Alex went out to the store one evening, leaving just Matt and I and whatever movie we were semi-watching. Matt sat up from his slumped back state, placing his beer on the coffee table. "I'm gonna have a smoke. You gonna join me?"

I giggled. "Oh, Matt, you know just the way to my heart."

We travelled up to the apartment building's rooftop. It was sparse besides a picnic table and a grill. The Fourth of July party had been held up there. Alex and I went for the free food but had to endure several Revolutionary War jokes. Matt sat on one side of the table and I sat on the other, an ashtray between us.

"I can't remember the last time we smoked together," I commented.

Matt lit his up before handing me the lighter. "At least not cigarettes," he laughed. "It's funny. This is all we used to do."

"Used to? Speak for yourself." I knew Matt didn't smoke that much anymore. Not like Alex and I who upheld equality with one another on who was going to get lung cancer first. We smoked enough to decide we'd both probably get it under the same time. Depressing romanticism.

"It's weird to think of a time before you and Alex got together," he said, flicking the ash.

I fanned the smoke away from my eyes. "Yeah. It's hard for me to imagine."

"And you guys are good and all that?" His tone was traced with suspicion or maybe I was just misplacing it there.

"Yeah." He nodded but stayed silent and I grew worried that I was being left out on something but I didn't want to touch it. "And you? Are you good?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I'm good, Jane."

I joined him in laughter. "Good."

The roof door opened and Alex walked through. "Thought you two ran off."

"We kind of did. We made it as far as the roof," I told him as he walked over to us.

He sat next to Alex and grabbed a cigarette from himself. "Am I joining one of those fabled smokes?" He asked.

"What?" Matt questioned.

I explained, "When we were younger, and used to sit out on the kerb with one another. I call them Fireside Chats like FDR."

Matt laughed. "I was drunk for most of those. Memory is a little fuzzy."

"You're not alone in that." I stubbed at the cigarette and rested my head on my palm. "I don't want to drink tonight though."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "Pregnant?"

"Shut up." I rolled my eyes and wondered if Alex had told Matt about the scare back in winter. "I have work tomorrow."

"Oh," Matt uttered, "little Janie's all professional now."

Alex nodded. "Yeah. What losers the rest of us are."

"Yeah. If Jane of all people can settle down—"

I interjected, ready to fight, "I was not that horrible." Alex and Matt only met me with a stare causing another eye roll from me. "I'm going to bed."

Alex and Matt stayed put and I assumed they were going to have one of their own Fireside Chats. "We'll try and be quiet," Alex told me before I pecked his lips.

I walked over and placed a kiss on Matt's cheek. He slapped his hand over the cheek, wiping it down. "Ew. You slobber like my mum."

"God. What a baby you are." With that, I went downstairs. I'm not sure what time they went to bed but when I left for work the next morning, they were both dead asleep. Not even the sound of me dropping my coffee arose them.

Alex was writing something. I woke up and the red light of the clock blared out, the time reading 4:34 AM. I rubbed my eye, scrubbing the dream out of me. His pen moved across the page and he was propped up against the headboard with his notebook tilted under the soft light coming from his small bedside lamp.

He felt my movement and turned to me as I flipped onto my side to look up at him, his eyebrows knitted. "Did I wake you?"

I shook my head against the pillow. "I don't think so. Why are you still up?" I held the tip of his elbow to keep in touch with him.

"Woke up about an hour ago. Couldn't fall back to sleep." He was scratching his pen up and down across his page, just making lines.

I flipped onto my back, roughing my hands through my hair. "Probably because it's so fucking hot in here." Our landlord had turned the AC off a week ago when it seemed like it was finally getting cold until the temperatures started shooting back up this week. "I might take a shower. I feel so sweaty." I sat up, throwing my legs off the bed.

I could hear the smirk in his voice. A light chuckle as he said, "Let me know if you do."

My phone rang. "I bet it's Stacey," I told Alex. "She still doesn't understand the whole timezone thing."

"She's 18 and she still doesn't know about timezones?" Alex questioned.

I sighed as I tied my hair up. "Let me rephrase. She doesn't care about the whole timezone thing."

"Ah," Alex said as I picked up the phone.

I moved into the bathroom, preparing to start the shower as I talked to Stacey. I sat in the bathroom, on the toilet seat, for about 10 minutes before I moved back into the bedroom. "Shower time?" He asked him with a grin that could kill.

"No." I shook my head walking back over to my side of the bed. I threw my phone down on the bed and picked at my fingernails. "My dad had a heart attack."

I could hear Alex closing his notebook but didn't look up. I wasn't sure how to deliver news and make eye contact at the same time. "Is he okay? Are you okay?" He crawled across the bed and stood up beside me.

I dropped my hands and moved past him going to our dresser. "Yeah. No. He's fine for a guy who just had a heart attack. I mean, he'll live and all that." I hadn't realized that I started pacing back and forth across our bedroom. I would stop at our dresser but then I would keep moving.

"Good. Now. Jane. Sit," Alex instructed me.

I listened. He was my guide. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to figure out what I was doing. "I should go back home."

"Okay. I'll look for flights." He moved for my laptop, sat in my backpack on the floor.

I stayed on the bed. "Should you?"

He looked up at me. I was looking at his eyes but I didn't even realize what was going on. I hadn't processed anything. I was busy facing the fact my parents could in fact die and that I also was not immortal. Alex wasn't sure what to do or what I wanted him to do. "Do you want me not to go?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure if I should go."

Alex moved toward me on his knees. He stopped in front of me and leaned over my knees. "I think you should. At least for Stacey."

"Right." I’m not sure if I went for Stacey. She would have Greg and Harper, even my mother, for comfort. I’m not sure if I felt an obligation to go too. It seemed cruel not to show up after a medical emergency but since the move to America, I hadn’t seen them other than during Christmas. They had never visited me. They rarely called me. It made me think that if I didn’t show up they wouldn’t be that shocked. But I knew I wasn’t held to the same standard as them and having a heart attack is much more serious than anything I had going on.

We got into a taxi at some point but I think I was still trying to figure out if I was still in a dream or if we were in fact going to JFK Airport. Alex must have packed the suitcase because I don’t remember doing anything. I became a functioning human being around when we sat at our gate for about 15 minutes. The flight wasn't boarding for another hour. Alex had gotten me a coffee and a glazed donut for Dunkin' Donuts. He got a Boston Kreme and coffee for himself.

He sat with his hand on my knee as I scarfed down my donut as a form of something to do. I wiped my fingers on the napkin and leaned back in my chair with the warm coffee in my hand. "I broke my wrist when I was 10," I told Alex. I could tell he wasn't expecting me to speak. "I sat waiting for my mum to pick me up for over an hour. They finally decided to call my dad and he showed up in 15 minutes. Five minutes less than his drive from work to my school."

"I honestly wasn't expecting the story to go that way," Alex confessed. There’s a million untold stories from my childhood that Alex had never heard. They were tricky for me to go about.

I breathed a laugh, relieving the tension from both of us. "Neither was I. It was right after Tommy and I guess a broken wrist was one step away from being dead." Alex squeezed my thigh and I thought about Tommy. I hadn't thought about him in a while.

We sat together for a moment before Alex bit into his Boston Kreme. The cream smeared over his nose. I laughed, which pleased him even if I was mocking him. “It’s all over your face. You look like you can’t properly feed yourself.”

We boarded the flight and arrived in London a little after 6 PM. I fell asleep after take-off and didn't wake up until the jolt from landing. Alex stayed awake the whole time.

We took the train out to Bath and Greg would pick us up at the train station. Halfway through the train ride, I said to Alex, "Thanks."

He pushed my hair back and stroked my cheek. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I've never been to Bath."

I laughed into the palm of his hand. "I'm glad this is working out for someone."

Visiting hours had ended about an hour before we arrived. The family report was that he was fine and Greg drove Alex and me back to the family home. We had dinner together where we mainly talked about my father. Alex and I went to bed after in a stripped-down guest room.

We had been in Bath for two days when Alex finally asked the question what I knew he had been thinking since we arrived. "Can we go on a drive?" My car had sat in my parents' garage since I drove it down when they moved. I'm sure they hated it being stuffed in their driveway but Alex was insistent on keeping it so I insisted to my parents to not get rid of it. For some reason, they didn't.

I didn't know much of Bath. Stacey told me she sometimes went to Henrietta Park with her friends so I decided we would drive there. Alex fiddled with things. The radio, the window, the glove compartment. He was trying to check if everything still worked. He missed this car more than I did. I rarely thought about it other than the remarks my mother would make over the rare phone calls that it was still sitting in the garage.

Alex sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat. "I love you."

I chuckled at the affection but replied, "Love you too."

He looked over at me. I could feel the stare but my eyes remained on the road. "Just getting to do this with you. I love it. I love that we've been in each other's lives for so long."

"Me too."

"We've been together long enough that when I sit here now I'm reminded of how much I loved you then. And, you know, how much I still love you now. More now."

My eyes hurt. I don't think I had cried since we'd been there. I felt overwhelmed by it all. But always him. I couldn't look at him for safety and emotional purposes. I loved him for being there and for being there for such a long time. He had always been my best friend. Even when I had just met him. Like fate. Soulmates or something. "Alex. I have to drive."

He chuckled. "Don't wreck the car now." He kissed my cheek.

a/n: well, there we go. i'm very into writing this right now so hopefully have another part soon. i'll probably do a one-off piece before. we shall see...

#alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner #alex turner smut #junedenim #beneath the boardwalk

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