#I’m just picturing leaving to go grab another plate or help with something and he flat out isn’t where your left him

[kedsandtubesocks]

I am …literally infested with thoughts of Gojo going to one of your family events or cook outs and just walking out of there knowing more family gossip than you do because of course he manages to charm all your aunts or get in good with the older relatives who end up adoring him

[banzaitaka]

Could i request for Getou, Gojo, and Nanami (separate) with a male s/o who’s tall and muscular, who jumps out of windows bc he hates using doors. And one day reader gets stuck in a window, bc of how big he is?-

---

I was so excited about this when I read this, but it took me SO LONG to get to it *sob sob* Now it's time

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

I hope this is what you wanted & you enjoy reading!

Kento Nanami x male! reader

Satoru Gojo x male! reader

Suguru Geto x male! reader

.

Bad fit

Tick Tock Tick Tock

Time wasn't waiting for anyone, while Kento was stuck waiting for his fiancé, trying to keep the tip of his shoe from tapping on the ground impatiently. //We'll be off schedule if he doesn't come out within the next three minutes.// (Y/N) wasn't typically late, at the very least when Kento was around, in fact, he often was standing outside before the blonde could even open the door. Truly a perk from (Y/N)'s window preference.

Sighing, Kento took another glance at the time. It couldn't be helped. He quickly made his way back into their shared apartment, "Sweetheart, where are you?", he called out, looking through every open door he passed by, only stopping in his tracks once he heard a nervous giggle. The kitchen.

Time at least seemed like it was standing still for a few moments as soon as Kento stepped into the kitchen. "Hiiii, babyyyy.", the male's voice was muffled from behind the window, his sheepish smile clearly visible through the glass. (Y/N)‘s legs were dangling in the air, his body held up by the window frame he tried to climb out of. Tried. Due to his big frame, the small kitchen windows didn't seem to be a good fit. No, they definitely were a bad fit. (Y/N) cursed at the additional window right next to where he was stuck, seeing that look of pure disapproval on his fiancé’s face was something he liked to skip. Only for said fiancé to turn back around, "Bye."

"No, wait!", he whined, "Please help me!"

Kento bit back any passive aggressive remarks that threatened to spill out of his mouth. Instead, he settled on a subtle sigh, as he checked the time again. One more minute. "Darling, I need you to make yourself as thin as you can and hold still.", the blonde muttered, making the other swallow, "You’re not just going to grab me by the legs and pull, ri-"

Before he could even finish, he felt hands on his ankles, "Oh fuck, you totally are-"

There simply was no time left to be gentle.

The (Y/HC)-haired whined quietly as he rubbed the underside of his arms. Kento simply looked straight ahead, hand on the steering wheel of his car, "I know you feel challenged easily, but please, do not try the kitchen window again. Next time, I will leave you there." And that was a promise.

Satoru might’ve been the worst person that could’ve walked into the room at that very moment. But then again, he might’ve been the best at the same time. The laugh erupting from his chest certainly was contagious, even in this rather embarrassing predicament (Y/N) was, literally, stuck in. The male wiggled within the grasps of the window frame, "Help. I’m having an Alice in wonderland moment here.", he joked, arching his back as far as he could, not wanting to slip through the window the wrong way; face first into the wet lawn. In this position, doing his intended ninja-move was pretty difficult, risking it wasn’t worth the possible forced brunch. Satoru only hummed in acknowledgment, pulling out his phone to take a few pictures of his poor, poor fiancé, "What way did the bunny hop? Maybe I can catch him for you.", he snickered.

(Y/N) started to kick his feet, "Babeeee, PLEASE."

"What? I can’t hear you through that windowww~", the silver-haired continued to tease, grabbing himself a few cookies from the Christmas plate on the table. (Y/N) sighed dramatically, relaxing his muscles to slump over and underline his frustration. However, with his muscles relaxed now, he started to slide forward, inching closer and closer to his earlier feared doom, "Whoa whoa WHOA-", he tried grabbing onto any surface to save himself, but the rain stained smooth surfaces offered no grip. Satoru chocked on the cookie crumbs on his mouth, as he half-tripped over to the window to catch his lover by the legs, last second.

And now…Satoru is smooching up and down the side of (Y/N)'s neck, who was washing off the wet dirt on his hands, "C'mon, baby, I was just teasing you…", he muttered against his skin. Despite his tone of voice, (Y/N) could feel his lips curl up into an amused smile.

Humming to himself, Suguru walked across the beach, passing by the curses he’s working with. "Hey, Geto, you joining us?", Mahito waved his cards in the air, seemingly bored of his two fellow curses. "Maybe later.", the black-haired smiled, "I'm looking for (Y/N)."

Jogo didn’t even look up from his cards he was glaring at, waving in a direction opposite from the water, "He said he wanted to go make some drinks in the booth." Suguru followed the hand-motion with his eyes, thanking the curse before walking towards the wooden booth in question. It was more like a little hut or store, a piece of cloth as a door and small rectangular holes for windows on each side. The man pushed the curtain to the side as he entered, stopping right in his tracks as he locked eyes with his lover. No words were spoken, but the way Suguru's smile widened was enough for (Y/N) to know what he was thinking.

The (Y/HC)-haired let his head hang low, just like his whole upper body was, being held up painfully by the wood. Suguru stepped closer, chuckling, and knelt down in front his husband, now on eye level with him. "My, my.", he cupped (Y/N)'s cheek with his hand, "Underestimated your body mass?"

(Y/N) lifted his head again with a pout, a blush adoring his cheeks, "You gonna help me or not?", he muttered embarrassed. The other chuckled again, running his thumb across his rose tinted cheeks, "You can do it, I believe in you." (Y/N) deadpanned, he knew better than to fall for that seemingly sweet and innocent smile, but he sighed and began to struggle again, "Do you think I would ask you for help if I was able to do it myself?"

"Correction; you didn’t ask me to help.", he took away his hand, placing it on his knee instead, "Would you like me to?"

Sigh. He really wanted (Y/N) to spell it out for him, didn’t he?

"Yes…", the male rolled his eyes, "Please help me." Satisfied, Suguru stood back up and took ahold of the other’s shoulders, pushing him back the way he came. And once (Y/N) circled the hut and stepped through the curtain of the door, he found Suguru sitting on one of the bar stools, "You wouldn’t mind making me that drink again as a thanks, right?"

[danganphobia]

Laishuro College AU prompt, and notes:

-first note, we’ve seen in casual doodles in the adventurer’s Bible that Toshiro seems to have an eye/interest for art and aesthetics. My gf for this AU is that he knows how to draw people and plants pretty well, but not animals or buildings. -second note, I’m using a chuck of Lokh’s own college AU idea where Laios is actually a online, novel writer on the side.

Toshiro, less interested in the DM campaign than he is staring at his surroundings, especially when said sessions took place at the old Touden House, he’s always looking around at the family pictures and nicknacks. Half-hoping he’d eventually see Falin’s childhood room, though having the sessions there was as rare enough.

So Toshiro isn’t super happy when the opportunity of exploring the home does arise, it’s to help Laios with his part of their assignment. When Toshiro looks around (reluctantly) Laios’ room, he notices all the bugs inside frames, and shelves full of animal parts like feathers and bones. So much so that even Laios notices Toshiro is distracted, and so he shows Toshiro his rarest souvenirs from going around the forest as a kid.

Toshiro is shaken to see a feather with similar patterns and colors as it was described in one of his favorite indie novels. Inside a rusty lunch box was also a few rocks and ores, but that feather stood out. Laios puts it all away before Toshiro can form the right question, a part of him also thinking it could just be a coincidence. The seed has been planted though, and so he can’t help but seeing the other similarities in Laios and the descriptions in the novel. Even notices his style of narration whenever they have a DM session after that.

Just a slow burn of Toshiro connecting dots and felling super frustrated yet enamored by the similarities, while planing to find a way to figure it out without anyone, especially Kabru (bc he would eventually just make fun of him anyways lol) finding out. So he has no other choice… Toshiro is going to have to get Laios all alone to confirm his suspicions and perhaps even… Admit his admiration for Laios work. If that’s all he’s found himself to enjoy about Laios that’s is.

This got my brain juices going. Drabble under the cut.

It never felt like it was the right moment to catch Laios. It was only fair, he was a busy guy outside of club meetings. So, Toshiro decided to do things the old-fashioned way.

When the class they shared together ended, he turned to Laios, opening his mouth to speak, but then he was bombarded by their peers sitting nearby in the neighboring rows.

Realizing that it was yet again not a good time, Toshiro stood from his chair and grabbed his things, leaving the classroom. As students flooded out of the door, someone else came rushing after him.

"Hey! Toshiro!"

Startled by his name being called, Toshiro turned around, meeting with Laios face-to-face again.

"Sorry it took me so long," he panted, catching his breath. "Did you wanna talk to me about something?"

Feeling put on the spot, Toshiro wanted to flee. Then he remembered, he needed to speak to Laios for a reason; a really good one. But he needed more time to gather his bearings about this.

"Can you meet me at the restaurant later tonight?" Club sessions weren't tonight due to everyone's schedules being packed, so they'd have a table to themselves.

"Sure!" Laios nodded. Another friend of his presumably called after him, catching his attention, but he made sure to properly say goodbye to Toshiro first.

Then, it was back to being invisible again.

Later, Laios met him at the restaurant as promised. He was on time, which wasn't unusual, but Toshiro was expecting him to postpone because something had come up.

Toshiro just had a coffee, because he had assignments he preferred to stay up late completing after this. He let Laios order whatever he wanted, though. He even offered to share some of his food with Toshiro, one of which was a gigantic plate of french fries.

Toshiro gave into trying just one, dipping it into the glob of ketchup on the side of the plate. It was incredibly salty, but it tasted incredible.

"Good, right?" Laios grinned. Toshiro smiled back. Okay, here goes nothing...

When Toshiro vouched to change the subject, Laios picked up another fry. "Try another!"

Seeing Laios dangle the salty fry at his face, Toshiro took it from him, taking a bite. Laios' smiled brightly, and then he began to talk to Toshiro about plans for their next campaign.

It was impossible to get Laios to stop when he was on a passionate tangent, so Toshiro let him. He paid for their check, insisting it was his treat and not Laios', and then they left the restaurant. Thankfully, judging by the silence, Laios must've run out of steam.

"Laios," Toshiro began, ignoring his racing heart as he continued. "Do you... do you remember when you showed me your collection at your house?"

Laios perked up. "Oh. Yeah, I do. Why?"

Toshiro stopped walking. Laios stopped a few steps ahead of him, noticing Toshiro wasn't moving anymore.

"That feather I saw in your lunch box," Toshiro said after, "I noticed, that it was also mentioned in one of your novels..."

Laios was quiet for some time, making Toshiro panic, wondering if he said the wrong thing. Then, he heard a chuckle come from the other man.

"So," he started, hands in his pockets as he approached Toshiro. "I'm guessing you figured it out, huh?"

Toshiro could only blink in utter confusion. "What?"

"I thought I was being subtle, well, kinda." Laios said with a bashful smile on his lips.

"I don't-" Toshiro shook his head, frowning. "Understand..."

"You basically just told me you read my novels, only someone that does would know this at all," Laios said, being more direct this time. "I haven't shown anyone other than Falin that feather."

This must mean Laios wanted to show him his collection, just Toshiro, and only him.

"Are you serious?"

Laios laughed, ruffling the back of his head. "Yeah. Y'know, it really makes me happy knowing you like my work."

Toshiro walked past him, pink coloring his pale cheeks, and it wasn't from the cold weather.

"Wait, Toshiro! Where are you going?!" Laios chased after him.

"Far away from you." Toshiro muttered.

"Just hold on a second!" Laios grabbed his arm, shifting in front of him on his feet. "I'm not trying to make fun of you about it!"

"The similarities between you and your writing made me feel like I've gone insane, and I've been keeping this in for weeks and weeks without saying a word about it," Toshiro confessed. When he saw that Laios wasn't reacting, he came to a disturbing conclusion. "How long have you known?"

"Hmm..." Laios hummed, taking his hand off Toshiro's arm. "I just had a feeling, I guess? Besides, you were kind of acting off since then. At first I thought you were freaked out, but that can't be the case. Then there was the possibility you knew about my work. I didn't want to ask you outright. I thought it was a stretch, so I was hoping you'd come to me about it."

There was no reason to try to fight this. Laios had him cornered.

"I'd have to admit, you are a remarkable writer," Toshiro said begrudgingly. "You and your protagonists have some things in common. Brash, insatiable, oblivious, surprisingly perceptive to other's emotions." And those just happened to be the traits that drew Toshiro to Laios in the first place. "But their resolve..." Laios stared at him intensely as he continued, hoping he could ignore his nerves, "is nothing like I've ever seen, I can't believe I'm saying this, I feel as if if they keep going on they could rule the world someday and succeed."

Laios' smile was warm, hearing Toshiro's feedback. "Yeah?"

He was suddenly closer than before, close enough for their lips to touch if he had taken another step.

"Yes." Toshiro whispered, a breath away from feeling Laios' lips on his, a hand on his chest, tilting his head up slightly.

Just as Laios was about to grant that wish, stirring Toshiro's gut, he snapped out of it last minute, stepping away.

"I should, uh, get home-" Toshiro blurted, eyes darting from Laios.

"Oh," Laios coughed, covering his mouth with his palm. "Okay. Sorry, I know you have an exam tomorrow morning. Can I walk you home?"

Toshiro waved his hand. "You don't have to do that-"

"Please." Laios begged, coming closer again. Toshiro stumbled back, because if he were in the same position as he were in before he was going to do something he'd regret in the morning. "Can I?"

Laios was just walking him home - an innocent gesture of kindness he'd been doing for some time now. It shouldn't mean anything, should it? He practically confessed that he idolized Toshiro and how happy it made him to know Toshiro was a reader of his novels. It was sure to affect their relationship in some capacity; but maybe if they pretended otherwise, it wouldn't make things weird between them.

Toshiro nodded. When he walked, he slowed his pace for Laios to catch up. Somehow, their arms couldn't stop brushing on the entire walk back, but neither of them could bring themselves to look at each other, far too embarrassed to.

Who were they kidding, they couldn't be subtle about their feelings on the situation to save their lives.

[loveabledirtbag]

1.02 hands

the tense opening! and how the show expertly swaps the chaotic tension of the beef with the sterile tension of carmy’s restaurant in new york. but it amazes me how even on my millionth rewatch of the show, when joel mchale comes in i go “is that joel mchale? no. it can’t be”, why is jeff winger on the bear? and then he does such a scary good job.

the quick cut from the quiet horror of the new york restaurant to the chaos of the beef is beautifully done, and the fact that carmy is making a burrito is so random and fitting and odd. it just works. carmy has swapped out one shitshow for another, and this one is messier, lower quality, and there’s never a quiet moment. it’s just in your face, all the time, nonstop. but THAT is the place carmy has chosen to be. worth noting.

carmy throwing out the french laundry is his first mistake of the episode. he should know better, especially after specifically not doing it last episode, than to throw out his previous jobs and education to richie, tina, or ebra. “well, go fuck your french laundry. stupid fucking name”. “alright, then at noma-“ “oh, and fuck your noma, too”.

but the back and forth conversation of carmy having noma, and the french laundry on his resume, and richie having gone to devry where they’re “serious about success”, and then the ice cream machine breaks and richie is the one to go fix it (but also by grabbing a bunch of spoons and kitchen utensils, and decidedly NOT actual tools) is on point. and without a missed beat sweeps asks “you graduated?” and richie going “fuck no!” *chefs kiss*

but the class dynamic at play in that scene is gorgeous. because both paths have validity and value in the beef. the ice cream machine breaks and carmy can’t fix it with chef skills. but richie has the skills to fix (or at least he can finagle his way to fixing) the machine. it’s lovely.

the slowdown we see with carmy going outside to smoke, before he goes back to cleaning is nice. the first episode is so break-neck, nonstop intense that having this pause is nice. because it would be impossible to keep up with that pace, and even if it was possible, it wouldn’t be enjoyable to watch.

of course the peaceful and slow scene is followed up by carmy sleep-cooking and almost starting a fire in his apartment when he cooks frozen and wrapped food. it just reminds us that even when he’s away from the (chaotic and nonstop) kitchen, and we the audience get a small reprieve, the show reminds us that chaos can return at any moment.

also, in the scene of carmy at home, the quick meal of peanut butter sandwich, chips, and pop, when he works in a place of great food is so real. when i worked in food, after a long day when i’d come home and be absolutely starving, the last thing i would want to do would be make food for myself. ramen, or just a bunch of lunch meat was a regular meal of mine for YEARS.

i have a lot to say about the scene when sydney comes into carmy’s office to show him her multi-paged research project of ideas to help the bear. and i want to be careful and intentional about how i say this because i know the carmy and sydney debate and subsequent fierce support for each of them is strong and i don’t want to needlessly offend anyone.

BUT as someone who has been on both sides of that conversation, as a passionate employee who has a million ideas for how to fix all the problems of the place where i’m working, and as a manager/operator of a business who has a million things on their plate and can’t quite deal with a million more ideas flying at them (even if those ideas are good) i get it. i really get both sides. sydney is not *annoying* for bombarding carmy with this 30-something page packet of data and ideas. and carmy is not a dick for brushing it off and jumping into something else and leaving sydney in the lurch. sydney didn’t have tact with how and when she came to carmy, who is trying to deal with big picture problems, small picture problems, culture, systems, and a million other issues. sometimes as management you just can’t process anymore. but likewise, carmy could have done a better job of telling sydney that he needed time to process and couldn’t engage in that conversation in that moment. the real issue was a lack of communication, and a misunderstanding of how the other operates. which is something that i think is built upon in season two. i’ve seen so many people defend only carmy, or only sydney. but i think both have their faults in this scene.

you could also argue, however, that carmy as the person in charge with the privilege of ownership, should have done more with his power to communicate what he needed. he’s the example setter for the business and didn’t do a good job showcasing what he needed in the moment.

(also, peep the beginning of the season-long storyline arc: to-go orders and the battle of sleeping on making money from to-gos, and the struggle of figuring out how to manage starting a to-go program)

it’s odd that carmy leaves his office (and sydney) because richie calls out to him “yo, carm!” but then when carmy comes out to see what’s happening richie is the one who says “i can handle this myself cousin. i got this.” like…was that a continuity mistake on the editors/directors part? am i missing something? why draw attention to the issue, and then when the person who’s attention you drew gives you their attention you go, “i don’t want your attention”?

“ron’s gone. gone gone.” “ron’s dead!?” is so funny. i don’t understand people who argue this isn’t a comedy.

the actor who plays nancy chore, chicago board health inspector, is a chicago staple. and i always forget her name.

the biggest thing i have experienced in the service industry when it comes to health inspectors is that if you take richie’s attitude towards them: combative, mistrusting, aggravating; they’re going to suspect you have shit to hide. if you take carmy’s attitude: polite, welcoming, say something along the lines of “feel free to look around, ask me anything if you need me” they’re not going to be as suspicious. don’t fuck with health inspectors…they will fuck back.

ebra and tina taking a smoke break but ebra smoking a BIG ASS cigar, is ICONIC. plus the fact he doesn’t say anything as tina complains to him….we need more ebra. he deserves a spin off. he deserves a movie. i’m in love with ebra.

sydney going right back in with talking to carmy is kind of what i’m talking about. sydney isn’t reading the room and trying to be courteous of where carmy is at. they work in a shithole and a health inspector just came in. carmy probably needs to focus on that, and not on your 30-pages of ideas. however, while carmy is a little blunt, i think he does a decent job of telling sydney that what she’s giving him is a lot with everything else he’s dealing with. highlighted by the immediate shouting of richie…again.

is richie being the one to interrupt sydney and carmy’s conversations about fixing up the beef symbolic? maybe? idk. just a thought.

it’s amazing to me (and again, i know chicago is special and a world unto itself) that a restaurant can have a hole in the tile, with a former gas line next to the stovetops not properly dry-walled and caulked, but clogged with napkins, meaning cross contamination, no hot water in the hand station, AND a pack of cigarettes ontop of the stovetops by the burners and it ONLY results in a C grading? damn.

major props to sydney for getting in between carmy and richie as they get in each others face, ready to beat each other up. that’s some chicago badass behavior right there on her part and i think that’s the moment i fell in love with her.

“you cocked it up, you’re gonna caulk it out” is such an ingenious line and i wish i could have been in the writers room when they came up with that one. same with “surge rates, fucko!” the gold standard of lines.

sydney and richie in his car is just, once again, a chefs kiss of a scene. richie telling sydney she has to wiggle the gear shift, sydney asking richie to hold her purse while she gets ready to drive and him dutifully putting it at his feet. but there’s an automatic nature to how richie does it, that while it may have been ebon moss-bachrach just doing it, i really believe it was an acting choice to show that richie definitely had a wife, before we even see the phone call between him and his ex-wife.

the comment about the multiple arby’s cups being from different visits. god, i love it.

BUT THE MOST BEAUTIFUL detail is the song choice that starts up when the car starts: have you seen me lately, by the counting crows. but not just that, but the live acoustic version. this is a deep cut that ABSOLUTELY was not chosen randomly, but was chosen with precision simply because it’s a song you listen to only when in the depths of despair. richie driving to work and listening to that song is a sign of his internal torment like nothing else we see this season.

richie calling carmy “carmine” is odd. since we know carmy is short for carmen. everyone always says carmen. this is the one instance we hear carmine. is carmen short for carmine, and i’m not aware of it? was it a character choice to say carmine in this instance? was it a mistake that was left in? i wanna know.

gotta respect sydney (for a multitude of reasons, as i’ve said and as i’ll continue to say) that while richie is ranting about how angry he is at carmy, and how stupid carmy is, she says “what does that have to do with what we’re doing? we’re trying to fix the wall. which you fucked up before carmy was even at the restaurant.” like trying to use some therapy 101 of “hmmm…what you’re saying has nothing to do with what’s happening. so, you probably have some deeper issues at play here that you should probably address and work through on your own time.”

ope, uncle jimmy cicero coming in hot with a plot twist of mikey owing jimmy 300 grand. but also, the quick comment of jimmy saying that mikey was “an animal”, which comes into play in season two. a lot of thought went into this show, and you can tell with just every second while watching it.

“i should have stopped by to break your legs”…i would just love to know more about uncle jimmy. i mean obviously he is a prime example of “less is more” with storytelling. we know he’s rich, we know he’s older but has a younger wife and kid (who we’ll meet later), and we also know he makes comments and has conversations around giving people jobs under the table. we can fill in the blanks that he has mob connections, or a criminal network, or something along those lines but we never know exactly what it is upfront. we also don’t know what his day job is. and while i always want more, i love that we’re allowed to just sort of wonder. plus, don’t we all have that relative that we grow up and learn more about and go “ohhhhh. that’s suspicious.”

sydney also trying to come in hot with throwing out some of carmy’s accomplishments to richie, who without surprise still doesn’t give a shit. class struggle right here.

ok. so. the phone call richie gets in the car. this is a master class of storytelling. from the writing to the acting, to the way it was shot. we see richie, being driven around to fix a mistake he made out of his own incompetence. he’s being talked down to by people with skill and talent, of which he seemingly has none. he’s being so obstinate and thick and grating on the audience. and then he gets this call and he picks it up and we see his dirt-caked fingernails, and the distinct shine of his golden wedding ring still on his finger. and we see his pain, and his frustration as he talks to his ex-wife, with these absolutely open and innocent and brilliant blue eyes that softens the hard edges we’ve come to know from him. and then we see that softness actually come out as he talks to his daughter with this mix of pain and heartbreak as it’s so clear she’s his favorite thing in the world, but she asks him if he really loves her. you suddenly know exactly what he’s dealing with outside the restaurant; an ex-wife who is poisoning his daughter against him, even though he clearly isn’t the best example of a stable father and you think his ex probably has a point, and that eats him up because he so clearly wants to be a good dad. and in season two we see how much he wanted to be a good dad. but we’ve also seen so many examples of how he’s not the best example for his daughter. and that all of this happens with sydney right next to him (the worst person in the world to be right next to him). plus he caps it off by saying he fucked up by getting the wrong caulk, AND messed up by leaving his cigarettes on the burner! more on that later. but all of it absolutely makes your heart ACHE for richie, and if it doesn’t you’re a monster. it’s because of the time and care for scenes like this with richie that there is a whole subsection of people who are OBSESSED with richie and love him. despite him being sexist and homophobic.

also, richie calling his 5 year old daughters classmates a bunch of “fuck faces” is an example of ruthless and honest parenting that i am coming to understand more and more each day since my son was born. other kids ARE fuck faces, but my kid is fucking incredible.

i love that we see carmy reading syd’s packet. because it shows he does want to read it. he wasn’t dismissing her for his own egotistical desire to fix everything himself. he truly needed to wait for a moment when he could process everything she was saying, and that moment wasn’t the moment sydney came into his office to talk to him unannounced, but it was later on in the day

oh, pete. i feel like every family has a pete. that person who you know treats your family member well, and loves them, and you know they’re basically a good person…but they just don’t click with the vibe of your family. they’re a little bit too square. they’re off. it’s just too easy to make fun of them. it’s so painfully funny, and honest, and UGH the short conversation between pete and carmy on the phone. pete’s doing nothing wrong and you just wanna be like “pete….shhhhhhhhh.”

it does take real acting skill to have a scene where carmy says “i wanted to apologize for last time…” and pete says “no problem! i went to urgent care and they gave me some stuff to put on it.” and without even knowing the specifics or the context you’re left going “yeah, but pete probably deserved it?” pete is that good at being a loveable schmuck.

carmy admitting to natalie that he sleep walked and almost set fire to his apartment is so good at showing that nat has gone to therapy. and that carmy desperately needs to go as well.

nata saying “shut the fuck up” to carmy, and then pete from another room saying “you want me to shut the fuck up?” to which nat responds “not you, sweetie. you didn’t say anything.” is SO GOOD

“i was throwing up everyday before work” “oh. well that sounds chill” “i kinda dug it.” - a low key theme shown throughout the first season that carmy has an unhealthy attachment to his own pain and suffering (more on that as it happens in the show)

the way that the bear could have been just another show of any infinite number of shows about a fucked up protagonist who’s driving narrative could be resolved if the main character just went to therapy, but never does, because instead the bear says “yeah! carmy needs therapy!” this show is so pro therapy, and i’m excited for more of it as the show progresses in future seasons!

AHHHH richie found a note! addressed to carmy! from mikey! i forget that this episode really sets up the rest of the season! the first episode introduces us to the show, but this episode introduces us to the seasons! there are so many points that we’ll keep coming back to as the show progresses.

also, ebon moss-bachrach committing to, and executing near perfectly, the thick inside chicago accent (as illustrated by his “yeah yeah yeah, i’ll be right dere”) is perfect. i know some people say his accent is borderline offensive as a stereotype, like the accents used in fargo was for minnesotans. but much like the accents from fargo, while not everyone in illinois has richie’s accent, SOME people do. and his use of it is 🤌🤌🤌.

so sydney is on the line, calling out orders as ebra repeats the orders back to her while calling her “chef”. this shows that ebra is now getting on board with the new system, as opposed to mikey’s old system. i only wish we would have seen the transition of ebra accepting this new system. or maybe the point is that ebra is go-with-the-flow enough that as long as he gets to work with his beef, he’s happy.

BUT sydney at the front calling out orders is something we see started in the next episode, where carmy has formally implemented a french brigade system in the kitchen and placed sydney as his sou chef. so why is sydney already acting as his sou in this scene? was this scene shot and intended for a future episode and was cut and moved to fill a hole in this episode? once again, am i missing something? it seems like sydney is doing the thing she’s promoted to do in the next episode, in this episode. except that in the same scene carmy says “thank you for taking richie today”, which could only be talking about sydney taking richie to get caulk right?

richie and carmy talking about how jimmy is getting the health department to come back, despite the health inspector saying she can’t legally come back for 30 days, and just chalking it up to jimmy being jimmy. *another chefs kiss*. i want to know more about jimmy but his beauty is his mystery.

it’s really good storytelling that richie sees the cigarettes on the burner and assumes they’re his. and that everyone assumes they’re his. even though richie, carmy, and tina smoke cigarettes. but it can’t be carmy because he’s the professional, young, hot shot, classical and fine dining trained chef. on top of that, we have this whole episode where you could get the vibe that maybe carmy is ignoring sydney’s suggestions because carmy wants to do it himself, he wants to save the restaurant himself. but then we have a scene where carmy is looking at syd’s packet, before nat tells carm that he might need help, and then carmy hires sydney officially at the restaurant, subtly telling her he’s going to implement some of her ideas. because he said he couldn’t afford to hire her for real, but now he can. carmy is admitting to sydney that he needs her help. and right as he admits to us the audience that he needs help, we realize that it was him who left his cigarette on the burner. he was busy cleaning the restaurant by himself, trying to save and care for it by himself, and he absentmindedly put them on the burner and kept on cleaning. so now we, the audience, really know: carmy, most definitely, needs help. because his talent, his skill, his training, and his schooling aren’t enough to save this restaurant. he needs syd’s passion, and he needs richie hobbling things together cheaply. he can’t do it alone.

and realizing that he really, really needs help leads him to look at nat’s text again: where she’s sent him a link to al-anon. the closest thing to therapy he’s gonna get this season.

Season One: Episode 1 | Episode 3 | Episode 4 | Episode 5 | Episode 6 | Episode 7 | Episode 8

[a-crumb-of-whump]

A New Beginning #16: Burns

Masterlist | AO3

Content: Recovery, burns, vampire whumpee, childhood trauma, multiple caretakers, non-sexual nudity, wounds/injuries, PTSD/trauma, begging, blood [for the sake of feeding].

-

Carlos was insistent on cooking the two humans breakfast this morning. Neither of them could figure out why until the vampire excitedly skipped into the room with a plate of freshly made pancakes in his hand.

“These look incredible,” Adam commented as the vampire set the plate down in between them. He glanced up at him and smiled, already serving himself two. “What’s the occasion? You tryna butter us up before you tell us you did something terrible?” 

Much to his surprise, Carlos’ eyes widened and he rushed to defend himself. “No! Of course not, sir. I would never misbehave.” 

While he used one hand to serve himself his own food, Ryker reached out to squeeze Carlos’ arm. “You’re all good, man. He was just joking.” 

“Oh.” Carlos blinked a few times. “I’m… I’m not sure I understand jokes all that much, sir. I’m sorry, but- but about the pancakes; I found a recipe book while I was looking through the bookshelf last night!” 

He seemed so proud of himself as he hurried off to grab said book from the kitchen. The humans watched him go, both with a forkful of pancake in their mouth already, and smiled when he came back holding a large recipe book that had been created and given to the boys back when they first left home. It was old and the pages were wrinkled by now, but it’d been unbelievably helpful when they had no idea how to cook. 

“I wanted to practice my reading,” the vampire admitted as he held the book out towards them. “I never got to do much of it, back, uhm… before. Then I found this, and it has pictures in it and the recipes are very fun! It even shows you how to put smiley faces on the pancakes.” 

Adam grinned. “I saw that! These are delicious, Carlos. You get better and better every time you cook.” 

“Really?” Carlos visibly lit up. “Thank you! I know I am not the best at expressing my feelings, but I really want to show you how grateful I am to be living here with you both, and Murphy and Luca. So… uhm, consider my meals appreciation gifts?” 

Using his foot, Adam pulled one of the spare dining chairs towards him and patted the seat with a smile. “I’m glad you’re happy. Come sit with us for a bit? I actually have something I wanna talk to you about. You’re not in trouble,” he made sure to assure him. The worried look on Carlos’ face dissipated and he obediently did as he was told, still holding the book close to him. “Have we ever told you about my sisters?” 

“I don’t think so.” Carlos shook his head, fiddling with the corners of his book as he watched the two men eat. Ryker smiled over at him for a brief moment while Adam talked, cheeks stuffed with pancake in a way that made the vampire grin.

“They’re very nice. Sorta the reason we were able to leave and get on our feet in the first place. They bought us our plane tickets and gave us some old furniture until we were able to get some of our own. Even paid our rent for a while so we could find jobs.” 

“That’s so nice,” Carlos whispered, glancing down at his lap. “Sometimes I forget that you and Ryker aren’t the only people in the world who don’t want to hurt others.” 

Adam gave him a small smile, reaching out to squeeze his knee. “Well, they’d like to plan a trip down here for a few days. Ryker and I have already decided that we want them to come, but as you’re a part of the family now, we wanted to get your permission.” 

“You don’t have to ask me, sir. It’s your house.” 

“You live here, too, man,” Ryker was quick to point out. After another small forkful of pancake, he set his knife and fork down on the plate and cleared his throat. “Your opinion matters to us.”

There was a small pause as Carlos thought about it a little deeper. Both Adam and Ryker resumed eating as he did so, and it was only when he looked up as an indication that he was ready to talk again that they both diverted their attention back to him once more. 

“I appreciate your consideration,” he whispered, his voice returning to that small, timid one he often used. “I don’t think it will easy, but I don’t want you to miss out on seeing the people you love because of me. So, let them stay? They can even take my bedroom if they wanna. I can sleep on the couch.” 

“That’s very kind of you,” Ryker commented, reaching out to squeeze Carlos’ shoulder, “but they’ll most likely take the couch. It folds out into a bed and they’ll be bringing their own bedding.” 

Carlos offered the two humans a smile. “Okay. I can’t wait to meet them, then. Will you tell me when they’re coming?” 

“Of course,” Adam nodded. “We don’t know all the details just yet but I promise, we’ll let you know when we do. On the off chance that we forget, you are more than welcome to ask again. Sound good?” 

Carlos was happy with what had been arranged. As he stood up again and ran his hand over his head, he gave the two humans an enthusiastic nod; resting his free hand on Ryker’s shoulder. The human didn’t hesitate to tilt his head back and smile up at him. 

“Yes, sir,” he agreed, the recipe book still held close to his chest. “Sounds good. Thank you for including me in the decision.”

It clearly wasn’t often he got to have a say in matters. Adam had known that, but not to the extent. From what he could tell, Ryker seemed to leave out parts of what Carlos had gone through when they spoke about it. He felt like he was learning something new about Carlos every day, even on the days where the topic of his past didn’t even come up. 

He wondered if that’s how Ryker felt about him when they first met. 

After another minute or two, Carlos excused himself from the table and left to take a shower, leaving the book he’d so fallen in love with in his spot for someone to put away later on. It was only after he’d left that Ryker reached out to grab his empty plate and cutlery, leaning over the table to press a light kiss to his forehead as he went.

“I don’t know what your schedule is like, but I have next weekend off if you wanna invite them over then?” he suggested over the sound of plates being stacked on top of each other. “There’s a few nice places open during the evenings - we could even take them out for dinner and bring Carlos along.”

Adam couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? He’s not fond of crowds and loud noises - that’s pretty much all restaurants are. It’s not like he can even eat anything.”

“It was just an idea,” Ryker shrugged as he stood up. He picked up the plates and the cutlery before heading off to the kitchen, still talking as he went. “Maybe not a good one, but it was an idea.”  

“I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, I just think we might need to pick a place that’s more quiet. Like… I dunno, the park or something. I wanna make sure it’s enjoyable for all of us, not just the humans.”

For a moment, everything was silent apart from the sound of the dishwasher being stacked with dishes. Adam almost began to wonder if he was even going to receive a response, until Ryker finally poked his head out with a smile. 

“I know you do. Look, It’s not for another week at least. So, we don’t need to decide on anything right now, yeah?” 

Adam considered his words before nodding, absentmindedly tracing small lines into the dining table with his nails. “Yeah. Okay. I guess I’ll send ‘em a message before I leave for work.” 

“Sounds good, my love.” Ryker sat back down at the table as he wiped his hands on his jeans. For the life of him, Adam couldn’t understand why he was so against using the many tea-towels they had sitting in the cupboard. He’d done it ever since they got together, and it never failed to confuse him. “What time are you heading off today?”

Adam thought about it for a moment, trying to remember what was on his roster for that week. However, before he could even begin to get the words out, a shrill scream erupted from the bathroom that had both humans jumping out of their seats within seconds. 

They only needed to be at the entrance to the hallway to figure out what had happened, and Adam was mortified by what he knew in an instant was his fault. 

He hadn’t closed the blinds in the bathroom that morning.

-

Carlos couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt a burn so bad. Much to his relief, it had only been a few seconds, but even such a short amount of time was enough to cause blistering and swelling across his entire front area. His biggest regret out of it all was not wearing clothes to the bathroom. It was just across the hall from his bedroom, so he hadn’t thought it’d be a problem. However, every second he spent in pain was another reminder that he’d been so very wrong. 

With a raspy inhale, he pressed his back against the cool wall behind him and tearily glanced up at the humans hurrying down the hallway, forcing himself to swallow any more noises that threatened to escape. He was in so much pain. 

He realised after a moment that Ryker had a blood pack and an ice pack in his hands as he knelt down beside him. “Hey, you’re all good, man. It’s- I know you’re in a lot of pain, but this isn’t gonna last more than a few days, yeah? It’s not gonna take weeks to heal anymore.” 

That sounded good. 

The human pressed the ice pack in his hand against the worst of Carlos’ burns, and he could have sworn he saw him gag a few times at the smell of his burning flesh. It was that or the sight of him, and he wasn’t sure which he preferred. 

“Hurts,” he found himself whimpering after a moment. He reached out to grab hold of Ryker’s shirt; struggling to get away from the discomfort of the ice against his skin, and the sweltering heat on his body at the same time. “Hurts. Why does this hurt so much?” 

He’d spent so many years trying to desensitise himself to pain. How could a mere month without it be enough to undo all his hard work? He wasn’t supposed to cry. He wasn’t supposed to make noise or complain about it. He was supposed to take it as it came and be good until it stopped. 

So why was such a simple rule so hard to follow all of a sudden? 

He could see the look of confusion written on Ryker’s face as he struggled to understand the question. He had no idea what part of it was so hard to understand, but the question clearly made no sense to him. He seemed to choose not to respond to it, and instead focused on picking him up in a way that minimised the amount of pain it caused. 

Before he knew it, he’d been moved back to his bedroom and set down on the bed, above the covers to avoid irritating his wounds. Having heard the commotion, Murphy was now in the room as well, while Luca had likely gone to hide somewhere more quiet.

Carlos just wanted the pain to end. 

“Hey.” Ryker nudged him after putting Murphy on the outside of the door. He offered a small sympathetic smile and held out the blood packet to him. “We bought these a while ago in case you needed some more blood throughout the day. I know you’re in a lot of pain, so perhaps the extra blood’ll help with the healing process?”

“Please,” the vampire practically begged. “Yes please. I’m sorry.”

As soon as it was handed to him, Carlos sank his fangs into the packet and drank the entire thing in one go, ignoring Ryker’s concerned reminders to take it slow before he inevitably choked on it. 

Then, once it was all gone, he shakily gave it back to the human sitting beside him and sniffled; rubbing his eyes like a child. “Hurts so much,” he whispered, tilting his head to the side after lying back again so he could look the human in the eye. “It’s so much worse than I remember.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

There were so many things Carlos wanted to say, and yet he felt like he couldn’t say any of it. It was near impossible to form words with how much everything hurt. Every breath made his skin feel like it was being stretched beyond Its limits, and his hands shook as he held the ice pack against the same wounds Ryker had been before.

“...I don’t want you to be here,” were the first words he spoke after the pain began to settle into a dull throb. He sniffled, watching as the human’s face somehow fell even more. He knew how awful those words must have sounded. He’d heard them more times than he could count, but he truly had no more energy to elaborate. “Please. Please understand, sir.”

Ryker reached out to grasp his hand. “No one did this to you on purpose, Carlos.” 

“Please?” Carlos tried again. He sucked in a tight, raspy breath and squeezed Ryker’s hand as best he could; doing his best to ignore the way his body ached in protest at even the small movements he made. “Please go? I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t…” 

Ryker’s confusion only seemed to get a whole lot worse. “It’s not the first time.”

“I know. I didn’t have the choice to stop that from happening, b-but I do now and I want you to go. Please. I’m not mad at you,” he tearily shook his head. “I could never be mad, but if you really say that I’m in charge of my own body and- and that I get to have an opinion, like you and Adam, then you’ll listen to me.” 

Granted, Carlos could see him hesitating. He averted his eyes towards his lap rather than at him and started to fiddle with the bottom of his sweatshirt, occasionally chewing on the inside of his cheek. Carlos had never felt worse. Perhaps he just wasn’t meant to make his own requests. 

“As long as you’re not mad at me,” the human eventually mumbled as he got out of his seat. “Can I at least send Adam in here to check on you throughout the day? It would make me feel a lot better knowing someone is looking after you.”

“Yes, sir.” He could live with that. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.” 

“Done nothin’ wrong. You’re all good.” Ryker bent down a little to affectionately nudge his shoulder. “Feel free to come and hang in the living room when you’re ready, yeah? Everything’ll be shut so you don’t have to worry about the sun.” 

Carlos gave him a small nod, already feeling himself reverting back to old habits before he could stop himself. “Yes, sir.” 

-

Both Ryker and Adam had originally been planning on going out for lunch that afternoon, but it was an unspoken agreement that neither of them felt like leaving the house anymore. Adam went to see the vampire in short fifteen minute bursts, occasionally bringing him some extra blood in hopes that it would help with healing. By the time he was finally feeling well enough to leave his room, the humans had eaten dinner and it was well and truly night. 

Ryker had taken to gaming out in the living room after Adam fell asleep in their bedroom. All the lights were off, so the TV was the only thing that provided any light, and he was curled up inside a blanket from the closet while several of his favourite stress toys sat in his lap. He wasn’t sure he’d experienced anxiety this bad in quite a while. It felt like he was drowning in it, and it was preventing him from doing anything other than sitting there and wallowing in it. 

In fact, it took him several minutes to even realise that Carlos had sat down beside him. It wasn’t until the vampire gently touched him on the arm that he jumped; inevitably disrupting the two sleeping animals who’d been lying beside him since he sat down.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos apologised, looking almost just as surprised as he was. “You looked so invested in your game, I wasn’t sure if you’d hear me.” 

Ryker paused his game with a small wave of his hand and set his controller down on the coffee table. “You’re all good. I just wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow, is all. How’re you feelin’?” 

The vampire gave him a smile. “Better. My burns don’t hurt as much. I think they’ll be better by tomorrow.” 

“Yeah? That’s great, man.” 

After a small silence had passed, Ryker slowly started to unravel himself from his blanket before lying it across his lap instead. He then lifted it up as an invitation for Carlos to join him and grinned when the vampire shuffled over without hesitation. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispered as he crossed his legs beneath himself. He still seemed to be in some pain, but the fact that he could move at all meant that he was getting better. He was grateful that they’d bought those extra blood packs for emergencies. “Adam said you were having some anxiety. Was that caused by me? When I asked you to leave?” 

Ryker thought about lying. He thought about telling him that it was just general anxiety, or that something had happened at work while he was away, but that felt wrong to do. Surely he was past the point where he felt the need to lie like that?

“A little,” he eventually admitted. During his little pause, he offered Carlos one of his stress toys and found himself smiling when the vampire took it. “I feel like an idiot because I know you told me you’re not, but I guess I’m still convinced that you’re upset with me. That you asked me to leave because I did something wrong.”

“Please don’t call yourself that.” He reached out to hold Ryker’s hand with his free one. “I feel that way a lot, too, when people use a certain tone or use certain words when they’re talking to me. It’s scary not being able to tell what someone’s true intentions are.” 

Ryker took a moment to respond. “Yeah… So, you’re really not upset with me?”

“Not at all,” Carlos shook his head. He gave him a warm smile, fingers still holding onto the human’s hand tight. “You took care of me so much when you were a kid. You saw my body in states that should have been horrifying to someone of such a young age, and yet after a while you didn’t even seem to care. I hated it, and now that I’ve got a choice, I’m choosing to save you from having to experience it again.”

Truth be told, Ryker still thought about a lot of the things he’d seen Carlos be put through when he was a child. He hardly ever spoke to anyone about it, Adam included, but it had haunted him for years. There was even a period of time where he remembered blaming Carlos for his trauma, though that thankfully lasted no more than a few months. He knew it wasn’t Carlos’ fault. There was no one to blame but his parents.

Ryker finally nodded, though he didn’t exactly agree with him. “Thank you. You… you know I’m not a kid anymore, though, right? I know you feel bad for not always having the ability to protect me as a kid or whatever, but I’m giving you permission to let that go. I’m not upset about it, nor do I resent you, so there’s no reason for you to either.”

Before Ryker could look up to see why it had suddenly gone quiet, Carlos had shuffled over even more and wrapped his arms around the human’s neck in somewhat of an awkward hug. He held on tight, seemingly forgetting once more that his strength was much more prominent that it used to be, but Ryker couldn’t bring himself to mind. It was just another reminder that things were slowly getting better. 

For both of them. 

-

Taglist:@alexkolax @emcscared-whumps @espresso-depresso-system @inkkswhumpandstuff @pigeonwhumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @roblingoblin285 @sacredwrath @some-thrilling-heroics @stabby-nunchucks @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @trans-writes @whump-blog @whumpsday @whumpshaped  @whump-things @whumpycries @whumpdreamz @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thekittyburger @choppedflowermuffinchild

[queen-of-the-avengers]

New World Order: Part Two

Pairing: Zombie!Steve x Vampire!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: false and trying hope, fluff at the end

Summary: Your main goal now is to find a cure for the zombie curse. You have Steve with you and you're doing whatever you can to bring him back to you regardless of what it takes.

read part one here: New World Order

Squares Filled: presumed dead (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Your hideout is underground away from other vampires who can sniff out your blood. Now that you have a human hostage, you’re grateful for the underground Bunker. It’s equipped with light, entertainment, a full kitchen, and several bedrooms and bathrooms. You built it right next to a supermarket that allows you to connect their pipes to yours so you can have functional appliances. It’s hard to manage the pipes but you get by. Those pipes provide you with running water that provides water to your garden so you can grow fresh food.

You have a plate of food for your hostage who is awake by the time you meet him in his dedicated bedroom that has two TVs, a gaming console, a music system, and other things for entertainment.

“Help! Someone help me!!” he yells when you open the door. He backs up when he sees you even though he’s eyeing the food. “Are you gonna kill me?���

“Okay, one, no one can hear you. There is no use in yelling. Two, I’m assuming you’re hungry so eat.”

You set the plate of food on the bedside table. His mouth waters at the meal but doesn't touch it right away.

“Where did you get this?”

“I know how to cook.”

“You’re not gonna kill me?”

“Why would I? You’re an endless blood supply for me. In exchange for your blood, I’ll give you luxury. Or what is considered luxury these days. You won’t go hungry and you have entertainment here. All I ask is that I drink from you every other day.” You reach down and release him from the chains you put on him to prevent him from running. “If you try to run, I’ll kill you. Good luck trying to get out of this place before I catch you. Eat. Relax. Enjoy. I’ll be by three times a day with food for you. Call me if you need anything.”

You take the chains with you and leave the room, locking the door behind you. On the other side of your bunker is the main reason why you have hope these days. The victim you killed earlier is food for Steve who is inside another bedroom. He is snacking on his arm when you enter. As soon as he sees you he drops the arm. It’s the way he’s looking at you that causes a memory to come forth in your head.

“Steve! The food is burning!” you yelled.

“Coming!”

Steve rushed into the room like a foodie Superman to save the day. You’re not that great of a cook because you never got into it. Steve was a master at putting flavors together, and he’d been teaching you ever since you two got together.

“Okay, I’m glad I got here when I did. You’re terrible at this,” he laughed.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” you giggled and lightly threw a carrot at his face.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Just cook the damn food,” you laughed.

You miss those days when all you were worried about was burnt food. You walk over to Steve and step over the fallen arm. He’s staring at you as if he’s trying to figure out who you are. You grab a tissue from the bedside table and wipe his face clean of blood. He reaches up and grabs your hand to stop you as if he’s going to say something to you.

He doesn’t.

“Do you know who I am?” you whisper. He doesn’t answer you. “I’m gonna do whatever I can to cure you. I promise you’ll be you again.”

Over the next couple of days, you spend as much time as you can with Steve. You’re talking to him about the memories you have of you two, you’re showing him how to do human things, and you’re reintroducing him into the world. You have pictures in your personal album of you two that you show him. You’re not sure if he understands what he’s seeing but you’re not going to stop trying.

One day, you take Steve above ground and walk with him to the nearest park, the only one that’s still standing. The other ones have been run down by people over the years. Most of the items are torn down for supplies but the swing set is still standing. You pull Steve over to the swings and have him sit down so you can push him.

He���s very stiff and isn’t holding on tightly which is why you’re pushing him slow. He’s been more active than when you first found him, which is still progress in your eyes.

“Okay, swing your legs to go faster, but you need to hold on tighter.”

You push him a bit further and he ends up wobbling which makes you bust out laughing. After a day at the park, you take him to the beach since your hideout is near the coast. There aren’t a lot of vampires around since they tend to keep to themselves, so you’re not worried about running into another one. They have their own territories set up around the United States that they control, and this one is yours.

Since the world has gone to shit, marine life has been thriving a lot. The Hudson River leads into the Atlantic Ocean, and since there aren’t any humans to pollute it, marine life has made the River their home. There’s even a pod of whales that go by in the distance. You take a small walk on Kingston Point Beach in New York which sits on the edge of the Hudson River.

Other Zombies roam the area looking for food but they stop and watch you and Steve. You have his hand in yours as you’re walking. One zombie looks at his own hand in wonderment.

“This is where you took me on a date a few years ago,” you say to Steve. “You asked me to be your girlfriend here. We both got hired at the same company that we worked hard to be in. You were so excited and stumbled on your words, but it was really cute. I have never said yes faster than at that moment.”

Steve squeezes your hand in acknowledgement and you stop walking. You turn to look at him in the eyes with hopeful ones. He reaches out with his other hand and places it over your heart that doesn’t beat.

“Y-Y-Y/N-N-N,” he stutters slowly. He places the same hand over where his heart is. “S-St-Stev-Steve-ve.”

“Yeah, your name is Steve,” you smile happily.

This has never happened. He’s never talked to you before. You look around you to see other zombies have gathered to watch the interaction. Then, the impossible happens. The thing that you’d always hoped would happen but didn’t think it would. The thing that brings hope of a cure for the zombie virus.

His previously dead heart beat once.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[alitwebster]

closed starter for @aindreisblythe, Oct 21st

As per usual these past few weeks, Ali woke up with a strange feeling in his chest. Every morning when he looked at you sleep, a pinch came shortening his breath. He would hesitate between waking you up, telling you everything he had on his mind, and letting you sleep, picturing all the ways he could leave without hurting you more. That had to be the solution, right ? Look at what you two had become. Sure, you had talked a little bit the other night, after Ali had slept at Jo’s instead of coming back home. However, it didn’t feel enough. There was so much more to say, yet all the words were stuck in Ali’s throat like a bad cough. It hurt just looking at you. Why did it feel like 2003 again, when loving you hurt so damn much ? Love was not supposed to be hard, that much he knew. For a romantic like Ali, you two should have been the most in love you’d ever been when arriving in East Haven. You were opening a new chapter, living a life your teen selves could only dream of. And now, even with all the efforts and talking you could do, Ali was lost. Tonight was Halloween night at Haven’s. He’d told you last week and wrote it on the fridge’s planner so you’d know how and when to prepare if you wanted to come, but Ali didn’t mention it regularly. He thought of a costume, simple but efficient, and promised Haven to arrive early with food he’d prepared in advance. Halloween macarons, savory biscuits and sliders, that was what occupied Ali’s mind at night for the whole week. Sometimes, he’d leave some bits in the fridge for you to try, he’d leave you a plate of biscuits that couldn’t fit on the plate, or ones that didn’t look as good. However, he scarcely made any comments. Not that he was sulking, or deciding not to talk to you. He just felt sad, all the goddamn time. He looked at you and wanted to cry because he had no idea how to express what he felt for you anymore. He’d give you food, smile when he’d see your face, listen when you’d have stories to tell. He’d even laugh at the videos you sent him, but the world felt different, and without you to hold his hand, he didn’t know what his place was anymore. He felt ashamed, angry, desperate and a whole lot of other emotions, all at the same time, without knowing how to tell you about it, because you were wanting to make everything work out. Ali felt empty, because all the emotions came and told him he was responsible, at least for part of what was happening between you two. Then they left and he remained quiet, ignorant as to what to say to feel happy again, as a pair. At least, he was willing to try. The efforts were there. Ali didn’t go out as much anymore, and usually came home before midnight if he had something planned. He saw you making an effort as well. You were home more, that he noticed. Even though silence was a big part of your daily routine now, Ali tried to talk, give you proof that he was willing to take a step towards you. He felt fake. Taking steps towards you felt like walking into a ravine he had helped dig. But he wanted you two to climb it up again. This afternoon, when he got out of the guest bedroom dressed as a pirate, Ali came looking for you in the living room. As he was putting on an earring, he proceeded to give you tonight’s program of his. “I’m leaving in about 20 minutes. A cab’s coming to pick me up, I can’t bring all the food by myself. I’ll be home around 2 am, I think. There is leftover lasagna in the freezer if you don’t want to cook.” Of course, Ali thought you weren’t coming. He didn’t talk much about the event, and you weren’t ready at all. Moreover, he didn’t want to force you to go to another night out with him, given how the wedding went. So, standing between the kitchen and the living room, Ali grabbed all his stuff and gathered it on the kitchen table before speaking again. “What will you be doing tonight ?” 

[oscar-piastri]

short scenes of a love story

v. tense

Cassy rubbed her temples with her fingers, trying to quell the stress that had been building up. Her coworkers have both left to attend to their duties and she was actually glad they wouldn’t see her reach breaking point. It has been a week but the communication with fans was getting harder; the club has been losing 5 matches in a row and the fans were letting out their anger under every post Cassy was making, under every graphic or video she created.

She was trying to work on another graphic, to celebrate a milestone for a player but she kept glancing at her phone buzzing at each notification from social media, showing her a new wave of bad comments, not just about the team but also about her and her job.

She felt the tears coming when she was interrupted by a knock on her office’s door. She quickly wiped the tears away and turned to the door, surprised to see Melvyn standing there with a box in his hands.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked as she motioned for him to come in.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been feeling down lately” He explained, handing her the box “So I brought you this”

Cassy raised her eyebrows in confusion and opened the box. Her face brightened as soon as her eyes landed on the cookies inside.

“I baked them,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. These words made Cassy lift her head up to look at Melvyn’s embarrassed face. “I asked our chef for his recipe, you said you loved them a lot, so I thought this would cheer you up” he confessed as his cheeks turned to a slight red color.

Touched by his thoughtful gesture, she chuckled as she pictured Melvyn baking and trying to focus on the recipe. She took a bite, way too excited to wait until she got home.

“Feeling better?” He asked and Cassy nodded to answer. “Good. Wanna tell me what’s gotten you all sad this week?”

She didn’t want to bother him. He already had enough on his plate with the pressure he was also getting from the staff and fans. But Cassy was lonely in this city and she sensed that she needed to vent and let it all go. She pointed to a chair to signal him to take a seat.

She put the box on her desk as Melvyn dragged the chair in front of her and sat.

“It’s the fans…. I keep seeing their anger and bad comments about the team’s results” She confessed, grabbing her phone and unlocking it to show evidence to Melvyn.

“Yeah, I see that too”

“But it’s not just the results” she handed him her phone and he took it before reading what was on it. “They say the community manager is a distraction because I post too much behind the scenes, they say I’m making you less focused and taking the championship as a joke. Every reel or video I post is just full of ‘let them work. stop disturbing them. get out” Cassy said, her voice breaking as she felt the tears coming back. “They say the team also don’t need pretty graphics and should only focus on training better because what I do is not important” Cassy felt her throat tightening the more she was speaking.

Melvyn scrolled through her phone, his expression turning more disgusted with each comment he read. When Cassy's voice broke, he put the phone down and gently took her hands.

“I say this not only for me but for the entire team but; we absolutely love having you around and having you following us around.” Melvyn reassured her, which made a shy smile appear on Cassy’s face. “I think it’s fun and brings a good vibe to the team. You’re not the issue in here” He continued, letting go of her hands to point to her phone “They are. And also the entire players, we’re to blame, we can do better and we should do better. Wait no, we will do better, for you and so that you can have happy comments under your pretty stuff” 

Cassy didn’t know what to say to him, she was just speechless and trying to get coherent words to leave her mouth.

She opened her mouth to speak when she got interrupted by one of her coworkers coming back to their shared office. He looked in confusion at Melvyn, before brushing it off and saluting him, sitting back on his desk.

“I should go” Melvyn said, getting up from his seat and putting back the chair where he found it

“Thank you!” Cassy managed to say, her eyes shining with gratitude. “For the cookies, and the talk” She smiled

“Anytime” he waved her goodbye and left the office, leaving Cassy blushing and her coworker clueless as he watched the scene happen, feeling like he missed something.

Cassy turned her chair back to face her desk when her phone lit up once again; this time not with a rude comment but a text message from Melvyn. “If they say you’re a distraction, then you’re my favorite kind of distraction 😉”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn't help but smile, feeling a little lighter despite the challenges ahead.

[tom-holland-parker]

Heat on High - Cookies

Summary: Deciding to thank Bucky for putting out the fire leads to him asking you out

Pairing: Firefighter!Bucky x Single Mom!reader

Word Count: 853

Masterlist /Series Masterlist/ Previous Part

Two days passed before you had the chance to see bucky. He’d been busy with work so you decided to properly thank him for putting out the fire by delivering homemade cookies. The garage doors to the fire station were open but you hesitated to enter, unsure if you were allowed.

“Can I help you?” You turned toward the unfamiliar voice, the man was tall and stared at you with a smile. Your eyes glanced at his shirt, noticing the firehouse logo on it, “I’m looking for Bucky Barnes”

A look of realization spread across his face as his smile widened, “Are you Y/N?”

You nodded which only made him happier, “My name is Sam. It’s great finally meet you, Barnes will not shut up about you”

You chuckled,  “Well I hope he’s only told you good things”

He shrugged, “He should be inside, Follow me”

You trailed behind him not wanting to get lost. Sam kept small talk with you, telling you about the different rooms that you passed and asking you about your day. “There he is” He pointed to where Bucky sat playing cards with the others, “Barnes you’ve got a visitor” 

Bucky looked confused but when he saw you his eyes softened, “Y/N is everything okay?” He stood up for his seat, throwing his cards on the table before walking towards you, “what are you doing here?”

“Um” You handed him the container in your hands, “I thought I should properly thank you for putting out that fire so I made you cookies” You watched as the men behind him looked at you then at each other, all trying to hide the smirk on their face, “I would’ve waited until you got home it’s just you’ve been so busy and I’ve been running around with lily and-”

“Thank you” Bucky smiled, setting the cookies on the table. It took all but three seconds for the other firefighters to starting grabbing them and eating, “while you’re here I actually have something for you”

He grabbed your hand, gently leading you further into the building, “We usually give these to the kids but I think you’ll find them useful too” He stopped just outside the office door with the name plate, Lieutenant Barnes. You tried to hide a smile, “this better not be what I think it is”

Bucky laughed as he opened the door. The office was small, a simple desk in the corner and a bed on the opposite side with two duffle bags with clothes folded neatly on it. There were few pictures on the walls but for the most part it was neat and plain. He quickly grabs paper off his desk and hands it to you, “It’s a fire safety pamphlet”

“I’m never making you cookies again” You smiled, nudging his shoulder, “in fact I should take back those cookies”

“Good luck with that, Im sure Sam and Torres have eaten them all”

You grinned and glanced at the clock, “Shit I have to go pick up lily”

Bucky’s smile dropped, sad to see you leaving even though he knows he’ll see you at home, “Let me walk you out” The walk back to the exit was quick, you smiled and waved goodbye to Sam before turning to Bucky, “Well I guess I’ll see you at home”

“My shift doesn’t end till 3am but I’m sure I’ll see you when you leave in the morning” He wanted to kick himself. Why couldn’t he just ask you out like a normal person?

“Okay then” You smiled and started to walk away. Bucky sighed silently screaming at himself to chase after you.

“Are you serious? You’ve been talking our ears off about this girl for weeks and you didn’t even ask her out.” Sam slapped Bucky’s back, “She obviously likes you and if you don’t do it I will” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Shut up Sam, I’m working on it”

“Ya know you could invite her to the opening of the new firefighter museum” Torres spoke, chewing down on another cookie, “We have to go anyway might as well make it a date”

Sam smiled, grabbing Bucky’s phone, “that’s a perfect idea”

“Sam stop it” Bucky moved to take the phone back but it was too late he had already called your number. “Hello? Bucky?” You voice came through the speaker, he could hear Lily giggling in the background

“Hey Doll” Bucky said, trying not to sound awkward, “I’m I was just thinking maybe if you weren’t busy next weekend you’d want to maybe”

“Just do it” Sam whispered giving him a thumbs up

“Be my date to a museum opening” Bucky wanted to slap himself in the face, this was going terrible

You smiled, “Yeah I’d love to, just send me information”

Bucky let out a breath of relief, “Great, it’s a date then, see ya soon”

He hung up quickly, looking over at Sam and Torres who stared at him with stupid smiles. Bucky rolled his eyes as he grabbed the container of cookies “wipe the smirks off your faces and get back to work”

//

TAGLIST:

@wildxwidow @nelly-belly @marvelgurl @inas-thing @hehehehannahthings @prancerrparkerr @abiseifried @randomwriter1021 @hunnybunimdun @raajali3 @liltimmyst @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @enchantedbarnes

[scorsesedepalmafan]

“Warm Home”

Bob Aldrich x gender neutral!reader

Comfort fic request

Requested by @antifiction

Notes; cuddling, kissing, comfort, support, married couple, fluff.

Summary: After a stressful day on set, you (y/n) are there to support Bob and lend him an ear.

Words: 771

You had the whole table set ready for Bob and you as you were expecting him back from set, when you heard the sound of Bob coming into the house with his keys.

“Hi, honey!” You heard him call out from the hallway, as he hung his grey long-coat at the entrance. His tired steps made loud sounds in the hallway as he approached the area which you were in.

“Hi, you big hunk...” you said very enthusiastically, placing the last plate on the table.

“Another day down the shitter.” he let out as he was undoing his black tie. 

His face lit up as he noticed the entire table which you had set up, and he sighed, closing his eyes.

“Oh honey, you didn’t need to do this...You know my job is tough no matter what.” He came close to you to leave a peck on your cheek, and placed one hand on your hip.

You smiled back at him and gently grabbed a hold of his face to leave a kiss near his lips. Bob couldn’t help but blush a bit.  He then placed a sweet kiss on your neck and then headed over to sit down. 

“How was the day today?” you asked, pouring a bit of wine in both of your glasses. 

“Work was hell”. Bob expressed. You could hear the hint of frustration in his voice. “Just the same old cat and mouse game between Joan and Bette -” He grumbled. “- And not to mention Jack.”

“Did Jack say something to you?” you asked him. 

Bob roamed his head around as he stated his answer. “It’s not really what he said… more like how he said it…-” He looked up to you as if disappointed.

“- He wants me to stir up some drama. … Make Joan and Bette be at each other’s throats…” He looked at you shamefully. “Problem is, I don’t wanna do that. I just wanna carry a proper set, make something of value… a good picture.” He said.  A good horror picture at that.” He added, wagging his finger. “ - You know what I mean, honey?” he posed to you. Of course he’d understand if you couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“Of course I know what you mean.” you told him. Bob leaned towards you, gladly listening to your every word.

“And it’s going to be a spectacular picture, I’m sure of it, Bob. You just need to waltz with these people. They’re just a means to your vision.-” You tried to find the best way to put it to him. “Be the director that you want to be, not the one they want you to be.”  You squeezed Bob’s hand tight and looked him in the eyes, adoringly. 

Bob gazed at you, feeling deeply validated by your very meaningful words. “Thank you, honey -” he said coarsely. “- That’s just what I needed to hear.”. 

Bob placed the large napkin onto the collar of his white shirt like a bib and began to dig into the meal carefully. He quickly expressed awe and delight with a muffled and wheezy laugh. In between he said to you: “Christ! Sweetie! When’d you learn to cook like this?”. He coughed a bit with his food. “-Mmh, I’m sorry.” He’d spoken with his mouth a bit full, out of excitement. 

You looked at him flirtatiously, lifting up your glass as to take a sip from your wine. “Well what do you think I do all day?”. Your answer made the two of you laugh quite hysterically. 

—--

After the two of you had put away the dishes and gotten into your pyjamas, you both quickly got tucked into bed, ready to cuddle and hold each other lovingly like you typically did. Bob always put his hand on your shoulder, circling his thumb softly as he got nuzzled up closer to you. So the two of you had naturally settled into this position already, as Bob was holding you tenderly.  “My strudel” he said to you, gently placing his lips on yours, for a tender kiss. 

“You know what I think your picture is going to be, hm, Bob?” you said, as you nuzzled into his neck and into your guys’ spoon. You felt his warm skin and the soft silk of his top. 

“What’s that, honey?” he replied in a lovesome manner. 

“I think your movie’s going to be the best horror picture ever made”. You answered. The only thing Bob gave you as a reply was simply drowning you with more kisses, and you gave into it without hesitation or qualm.

---

Tagging: @alfredosauceee , @darknymite , @doctor-octiddius , @illiana-mystery , @space-pirate-alex , @neriuml , @arktishval , @rossieash​ , @randomfandomtrash28 , @bi-octavius , @faemorningstar , @yesalwayswelles , @bones-ego , @freddiefredfive , @ottolover101 and @heythereimashley .

--

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my writings! Attentively, B.

[yesimwriting]

Bloodroot in the Suburbs -  Prologue

a/n veryyy different than anything I’ve ever written before but the new season of You has me feeling a certain way lmao 

series summary: Bloodroots are such a strange flower--white and innocent looking yet undeniably poisonous. It has no place in the safest neighborhood in CA. Then again, neither do you. The suburbs are killing you, and no one understands that...at least you think no one does. I see that in the way you roll your eyes when your sister presses the issue of when you’re going to get back on your feet. I see that restlessness when you’re in the small plot of land that you’ve actually managed to turn into some type of garden. I see you; I understand you. And if it wasn’t for the confines I bear to protect my son, I’d let you know that. But for now, I settle for knowing that the two of us are equally trapped, and I take some solace in that. I feel bad about it, I do, considering that from what I’ve gathered you spent most of your life being considered the perfect, ideal golden girl that was nothing but potential. And now you’re no longer the gifted child, the one that’s first to raise their tiny hand in class, the one that knows everything. But that’s okay--because I’ll make my selfishness up to you. 

chapter summary: Y/n meets a neighbor, and finally gets a part time job so that her sister will leave her alone. Little does she know she just agreed to spend most of her free time in a lion’s den. 

Y/n’s POV. 

I remember a time in which my sister and I were the same. Or at least similar. A time in which we could share stories with each other and spend the entire night giggling over foolish things. A time in which we were the same. 

But that time is long gone...so far gone I even have trouble picturing it. I guess that’s what happens when you have a sister that’s almost ten years older than you. When you’re little you bend over backwards to be like them, listening to music and getting invested in shows a little too mature for your age group. But at one point, a line is crossed, and you are both in parts of your life that can’t overlap at all. 

Like how I want nothing more than to be in the part of my life that revolves around taking risks and succeeding and running a part of the world...and Sarah wants to be in the part of her life defined by motherhood. 

Don’t get me wrong. I get it--I love babies, there are days in which I see a mother cuddling a baby and think I want that. And then my phone will ring, the baby will start to fuss and I’ll mumble a genuine apology as I ignore yet another call from my editor. That will leave me grateful for the alarm on my phone that reminds me to take my birth control. Not that there’s been a concrete reason for taking my birth control since the whole Ashton situation... but it helps the cramps and I like my routine, so morning birth control alarm stays. 

And it rings at the breakfast table, earning me the slightest, hesitant side eye. Sometimes I think Sarah believes that birth control is contagious, like me taking the circular pill is impeding on her ability to conceive a child. 

“Water, y/n?” Tom doesn’t seem to hold onto that kind of thing. He’s always helpful to me, nice. I think he knows that even though Sarah and I bicker more than ever, he’s not allowed to have negative opinions about me. I know that if I had a boyfriend and he said anything about Sarah--even if it was right--I’d have his head for it. Something I’m not scared to take advantage of because...well, Tom’s rich and he has nice rich people things. 

“Yeah, Tom, I’d appreciate it. Could you also grab me one of the croissants you picked up from the french place?” 

He opens the box, eyes the last 7.50$ croissant, and he puts it on a plate--a glass one, not a paper one--and gives it to me along with a glass of water...and not regular water, cucumber water. Oh, the way the other half lives. 

“I’m surprised you’re awake for breakfast.” Sarah hums, lifting her mug of tea to her lips. I know she misses coffee, but every mommy blog says that coffee is basically uterus acid. So she drinks hormone stimulating tea now, decaffeinated and sweetened by artisanal honey. 

“I’m sorry that my life falling apart has made me a little depressed.”  

She sets her mug down. “You’re staying here, hiding from the city on one condition--a condition you agreed to.” Great, it’s not even noon yet and I’m already getting this lecture. “You can’t just wallow here. You need a life...friends...a job. All you do now is read, look at articles about you, and stand out in that garden.” 

The irony of her telling me to get a job leaves a sarcastic response wedged so thoroughly in my throat, I’m scared to take a bite of my croissant. “I could always take a page from the l/n family hand book and marry rich.” 

Tom pauses, I feel a hint of guilt for making him a casualty in a war he has nothing to do with. 

“Y/n--” 

I take a bite of the pastry, forcing it down. “Sorry, Tom--it’s not about you.” Sarah glares. “What? It’s not--Alex married super, mega, blood money rich. And mom’s latest boyfriend, he’s basically like the guy that made Apple.” 

“Speaking of mom’s rich, new boyfriend--why don’t you go stay with them?” 

“Because I’d kill their northern Europe, romance buzz--duh.” It’s easy to play off the discomfort of the fact that my mom doesn’t particularly want me right now during an argument like this. “I’ll look into getting a job. Madre Linda may be gossipy, but the one good thing about the suburbs is that they’re willing to overlook a New York, locals only scandal.” 

“Hm,” Sarah sighs, which means she’s at least somewhat appeased. “Now if I could get you to stop ignoring the calls from all those literary agents that want you to write a book.” 

I do not have the energy for this conversation. Unlike desperate-to-be-prenatal Sarah, I do drink coffee. I live off of it. But no one else here does, meaning that needing a cup of it is the perfect excuse to disappear. “I’m going to go get some coffee, maybe email some people back at the cafe and google jobs.” 

I finish the croissant, take my birth control, and disappear out the front door. Tote bag slung over my shoulder, laptop, phone, and wallet inside, I go outside the back door. It’s risky here, in the garden. I like to get lost here, the signal is terrible, which means I can pretend that everything on my phone doesn’t exist. I’ve taken to gardening because I needed a challenge, and the house that blocks the sun over this spot did make growing anything here that. I haven’t been here long enough for there to be much back here, but the seeds are starting to sprout. 

Sighing, I walk away from my labor and start moving towards the front gate. And...now the latch is stuck again. It’s always doing this, especially when I’m desperate to disappear. I swear this gate can tell when I feel trapped and it finds humor in making it worse. I pull on it, rattling the gate slightly.

“Stuck latch?” The voice comes with no warning, I almost jump. This is a neighborhood. People notice things in the suburbs. And it’s not like some creepy man is approaching me--it’s the same guy I’ve seen leave the house right next to Sarah’s. He’s a neighbor, a father, with a baby strapped to his chest. “They uh--they have a tendency to do that, something about the way the lock was manufactured.” 

“Oh,” I hope that seemed polite. I haven’t really spoken to him or his wife, but they seem like nice people. Their baby is adorable, and Sarah says that they’re courteous neighbors, always attending neighborhood functions and never being noisy, unless you count the sound of a baby crying in the night, but Sarah’s understanding of that...and maybe even a little jealous. “And here I had convinced myself that it was something personal.” 

Bad joke. Terrible, weird, illogical joke. And yet he almost smiles, the corner of his mouth turning upwards slightly. It’s here, beneath the sun that I notice that his features are worth more notation than I’d previously given him. He’s objectively attractive, with a sharp jawline and patient eyes. He’s married. Then again, just thinking someone is pleasing to look at is normal. It’s not like I’m attempting to seduce him in front of his house, with his baby attached to him in one of those harness things. Still, I drop my gaze after silence seems to enhance his appeal. 

“Even if the gate is sentient and trying to imprison you,” he steps forward, crossing the space between us, “there’s a guaranteed way to beat it.” 

He releases the hand of the baby in favor of wrapping his fingers around the top of the gate. He uses his other hand to twist the latch at an angle while tugging at the gate. It opens, the hinges just barely creaking.

 And just like that, he’s freed me. “My hero.” 

“Knight in shining armor, saving the damsel in distress from the villainous piece of metal, trapping her.” I almost laugh. 

The return of the silence uneases me because of how easy it is. “Not sure if I’d consider myself a damsel or in distress.” 

His eyes widen, the baby coos. “No I--uh--I didn’t mean it like that--”

This time I do let myself laugh. “Relax, I was just messing with you.” He exhales, easing a little too quickly. “Cruel, I know, considering the new baby must be taking so much of your energy.” I stop holding myself back, I exaggerate my expression as I finally turn my attention to the child. He’s so, so cute. I think I get why Sarah wants one so badly. “He’s so adorable, I’m sure he’s more than worth it, though.” 

“Yes, definitely worth all the lack of sleep and energy. I never really understood the whole ‘it takes a village’ thing until now. My wife and I don’t ever feel like enough.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you two are doing a wonderful job. After all, he’s healthy and smiley...and just so cute I think I’d be careful about bringing him around here or my sister might just try to snatch him up.” Another terrible joke. “Kidding--I swear, she’s just really trying for a baby and I kind of forgot not everyone knows about that--but she’d never...I mean of course she wouldn’t kidnap your baby.” Great job, y/n, the neighbors definitely won’t think you’re weird now. The longer he’s quiet, expression revealing nothing, the more nervous I feel. And then...just the slightest hint of a smug smile appears. “You’re messing with me by letting me ramble in order to get back at me, aren’t you?” 

He smiles more freely now, though there’s still reservation. “What you do to yourself without my interference is not something I can be held responsible for.” His tone is pure innocence, the ‘I’d never do anything wrong’ behind his eyes clear. “I do feel the need to thank you, though, in a town made up of momfluencers and people with multiple nannies...it’s hard to feel like enough.” 

Even though I’ve never been in his situation, I think I understand him. After all, not feeling like enough is exactly what got me in trouble in New York. “Well, I’m sure you are...though, if you’re ever in dire need for help, I’m just across the street and have absolutely nothing going on as I take refuge in my sister’s house, a fact she can’t stop reminding me of.” Once again, I’m giving too much to a stranger. “I’m actually trying to escape the gate’s prison so that I can be productive over coffee. One can only put off a temporary job search for so long.”

He’s silent for a long second before drawing his eyebrows together. “That’s a surprisingly good idea.” What? “We could use the help, if you’d like to skip out on the job search. My wife recently opened a bakery, and her mom has been helping out with child care, but I’m not sure that’s going to be working as much as it used to.” 

Oh--is he--is he saying what I think he’s saying? “Oh, no I didn’t mean you’d need to hire me. I did a lot of babysitting in high school and college, and sometimes I miss it...but I--I’d be happy to just help out, y’know. Neighbor to temporary-neighbor.”

“Oh, no, I could never leave you with this handful and not pay you something.” 

“He seems easy.” 

“Now--you should have seen him this morning when his bottle wasn’t warmed up to exactly 98.6 degrees.” 

I laugh, surprising myself by the fact that I’m actually weighing his offer. “At least let me send you some references first.” 

He hesitates, dismissal at the tip of his tongue, but I guess I look determined enough because he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, unlocks his phone, and hands it to me. “Text your number and my wife and I will look at them, but I’m sure you’re overqualified.” Something odd settles in my stomach. I’m sure you’re overqualified. Does he know who I am? “You babysat in high school and college, I’m not sure I ever dealt with a baby before him and I’m left alone with him all the time.” 

Oh--okay, it’s fine. No one here has yet brought up my past job, though I’m sure some of the gossipy women are waiting for it. That’s why I’ve been limiting my socializing here...that and the fear of becoming trapped here. I politely laugh and text my number. 

He takes his phone back, reading the short message. Hi, this is y/n, your neighbor’s sister. “Y/n.” He says my name so softly, I’m not sure he said it for my sake. He recovers quickly, returning with a polite smile, “Hello, you.” 

“Hello to you, to...” I trail off, waiting for him to provide a name. 

“Joe,” he says, “I’m Joe--and this,” his hand moves upwards so that he can let his son’s curious hand wrap around one of his fingers, “this is Henry.” 

“Joe and Henry.” I place one hand on the gate a little awkwardly. Why does this feel strange. “It’s a pleasure, meeting you both.” 

“The pleasure’s ours.” He takes a slight step back, expression loosing some of its humor. “He um...I have to get Henry back for his nap.” 

“Of course, I’d hate to keep you.” 

He takes a more confident step away, waving once before turning towards his house. I guess technically I don’t need to go to the cafe now. Though he was probably just trying to be polite, a maybe-job could appease Sarah. Still, though, I want coffee and I want to be away from here for a little bit, so I walk down the street, closing the gate behind me. 

------

Joe’s POV

Your hero. You called me that. And I liked it. The terrible part is that...I liked it. I want to be that for you, a helper not a taker. You don’t belong in Madre Linda, surrounded by suburbia, but you have to be here right now. I read the articles, I know what you’ve been through. 

And if I play this right...maybe I can help you through this, and then you’ll leave, return to the one place I know I can never go back to. New York--what happened to Beck, that’s waiting there. So in a way, that’s good...because I know that anything we have is temporary. I will help you heal as thanks for providing me solace in this hell hole, and then my life will once again only be about being a good husband and father. 

But you’re not making it easy for me--the way you lit up for Henry, the way you so easily volunteered to help me in order to help him...and you’d do it for free. I can’t help think about what a great mom you’d be, or at the very least...a kind stepmother. Not that I could ever leave Love, not with knowing what she’s capable of. What she’d do to you if she found I was thinking of you, let alone seeing you as any type of maternal figure for her son. 

The babysitting thing isn’t something I should have offered. But it’s true, we need the help. And maybe, if Love just sees you as a neighbor...as a victim that we’re helping, because those tabloids really ripped into you, y/n, she won’t think to hurt you. Not that I’d ever let that happen, but having you close could diffuse a bomb before it starts ticking. 

Because I knew from the moment I saw you, sitting on a blanket in your sister’s backyard, an Agatha Christi in your hand, I was meant to protect you. Maybe you’re even meant to be my one, but I know that I can never find out. I have to let you go...for you, for me--for us. 

[lokislastlove]

Sweat and Sacrifice (Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader) p2

Summary: You decide to meet face to face for the first time on Christmas at a football game, and it’s not what you expected.

Warnings: Dubcon, teasing, groping, sadly this chapter is smut-free (Steve is mad too don’t worry)

Notes: I had no idea y’all were gonna like this Steve, but I’m stoked. Hahaha thank you so much for encouraging me to continue. Will likely be a couple more chapters, I will try to write quickly. Can’t believe y’all got me posting shit before I finish the whole series. 😬❤️

Part 1 Here

🏈

He leaves you abruptly as your emotions threaten to bubble over. Shocked, doesn’t seem quite substantial enough to describe how you feel. You feel violated, but you can’t seem to rationalize why. Every argument that springs to mind to explain your unease is instantly shot down by that other ‘little voice’. The one all girls have after years of being blamed for their traumas.

He lied. Or was he just being cautious? He manipulated you. Or was he just trying to be romantic? He forced himself on you. Or did you send him mixed signals? You did grab his hair, and you were the only one who got to orgasm.

You slide off the counter and search for your clothes. You quickly pull on your pants, your brain shifting to autopilot as the little voice smothers your outrage. Guilt and regret eat at your insides as you grab a bottle of wine from the counter, taking a generous swig as you curl into the corner of the couch.

Peter returns some time later to find you staring blankly at the black screens as you sip silently. He helps himself to a plate of snacks and joins you in the couch, completely oblivious to your apathy.

“Oh, shit. Sorry! I should have just left it on for you,” he apologizes as he scrambles for the remote and turns on all the TVs.

You flinch as Steve’s face stares back at you, smiling and confident as he whispers to his teammates before the next play. You take a larger gulp, the alcohol dulling your emotions as you watch the game and get steadily more drunk.

“Uh, should you be getting that?” Peter asks, drawing your attention to your phone vibrating the coffee table.

You stare at your dads picture as it lights up the screen and shake your head. There is no way you are ready for that conversation. The picture disappears and adds another marker to the dozens of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t know what to say to them yet,” you mumble and hiccup.

“Hey,” Peter says hesitantly, “how about we switch to water and maybe eat a little something.”

He takes the wine bottle from you gently and you scowl at him, but let it go. He hands you a plate of food and in your drunken haze you pick at it lazily. The salty crunch is such a simple pleasure and you focus on it until Peter plops down again and offers you another plate.

“You gotta try these cupcakes, the frosting is just – mmm,” he hums in delight as he takes a bite.

You blanch as your stomach rolls and you quickly cover your mouth. Springing to your feet, you run to the private bathroom and barely make it to the sink as the accumulated stress of the day washes down the drain. After you empty your stomach and the blood rushes to your head you feel a sense of clarity, sobering you up a bit as you quickly clean yourself up and rejoin Peter.

“Are you okay? Or – uh… can I get you anything?”

You wave him off and grab a bottle of water, “I’ll be fine, I think I really am going to go though, I’ll call Steve after the game.”

You grab your purse from the counter and move toward the door but Peter is quick to block you.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that,” he says in a soft but serious voice.

“It’s not really your decision. Now, please get out of my way,” you push past him and reach for the handle.

His hand latches onto yours as you try to twist and you scoff, “Peter, what the hell are you doing?”

“You can’t leave,” he implores with those same puppy dog eyes.

“Peter,” you warn, “let go.”

He removes his hand, but stumbles for an excuse, “you shouldn’t be driving after all you’ve had to drink.”

You angrily yank open the door, “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

You turn to leave but run into a brick wall of a man, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as he fixes you with a frightening glare. His dark hair, thick brows and stubbled angular jaw give him a menacing look as his veins bulge along his thick muscular arms. The tight black shirt reveals the same commitment to fitness on the rest of him as he takes a step toward you, herding you back into the room.

You back up in fear, and he grabs the handle and throws Peter a warning look before closing the door without a word.

“Who the hell is that?” You look back at Peter who shifts nervously.

“Yeah, uh, that’s Brock. He’s the head of security,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Security? Why do I need security?”

Peter hesitates, his internal struggle displayed plainly across his face, “look, Cap just told us to make sure you don’t leave. He must have known you’d get freaked out and maybe he’s afraid you’ll try to ghost him or something. I just know he made me promise to make sure you would be here for him after the game.”

“So I’m trapped here until Steve says otherwise?” You scoff.

He blows out a long breath, “well it sounds kind of messed up when you say it like that. I’m not trying to upset you, I just - I just really can’t lose this job. Please.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare at him, part of you wants to leave, you don’t owe this kid anything… but the other part of you feels guilty at the thought of ruining his life just so you can go sit at home alone an hour early.

You sigh, “dammit Peter. Fine. But once I see Steve, I’m telling him this whole thing is fucked, and I’m gone.”

He nods, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this harder for you. I was just trying to help.”

You drag your feet back to the couch, comforted to see the clock tick down to the final two minutes of the game. Steve is a machine, carrying his team to a dominating victory. The crowd outside the window cheers so loud the glass rattles on the overpriced coffee table and you gorge on the bowl of candies Peter offers you.

Peter sits in silence, afraid to make you any angrier while you fume at the scene on screen. Steve jogs gracefully over to the camera, barely winded with a few perfectly placed strands of tussled hair on his dewy brow.

“Here he is, the MVP of the evening… we’ll let’s be honest you’re always the MVP aren’t you, Rogers?” The newscaster flirts.

Steve let’s out a shy laugh but before he can answer one of his teammates pushes into frame, “he ain’t the only stud on the field, doll.”

He laughs as the brunette tosses his long hair back and hooks his arm around Steves neck, pulling him close to kiss his cheek before winking at the interviewer and running off.

The flustered newscaster blushes and attempts to recover, “so what’s your secret, Rogers? Give your fans a tip for success at Christmas.”

“I don’t know if it’s a secret but whenever I want something I go all in. Can’t hold anything back, ya know? I keep to that old football motto, ‘sweat and sacrifice equals success’,” He affirms seriously.

She smiles, completely smitten, “But that second half was incredible! Five touchdowns! Two of them you ran for yourself!”

“Well, I admit I did have a special halftime treat that gave me a real boost,” he smirks and winks at the camera.

“Oh! So you do have secrets after all. Care to share?” She holds the mic up a bit closer to his face.

He smiles, eyes twinkling, “sorry, that’s one I’m keeping all for myself.”

You swallow hard as you subconsciously push yourself further into the couch, heat rising to your face as you avoid Peters eye. You clear your throat and cross your legs to keep them from bouncing nervously. Thankfully he soon makes a quick exit and they show him run off the field, tossing a few things out to fans along the way.

Peter turns off the TVs and stands up to face you, at the same time a pounding knock on the door makes you flinch.

“Time to go,” Peter says softly as he offers you his hand.

You stand up on your own, hands buried in your pockets as you let Brock and Peter escort you through the facility. You swallow your sass after Brock’s first warning. All it takes is a terse, “no” and you shut up for good. Even as he grips your arm a bit too tight, manhandling you through the crowd and past a keycard-required door. The heavy door cuts off the buzzing swarm of excited fans as they mob the exits.

The silence of the private hall is deafening as your anxiety causes your heart rate to skyrocket. You feel like a child being dragged to the principals office for some unknown offense.

At the end of the first hall the pristine blue carpet diverges into two paths, to the left you hear the boisterous masculine roar of the team as they celebrate the victory, but thankfully Brock points you right. You make it half way down the hall before Brock stops you with a clipped whistle and opens up a door for you.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he huffs, storming off back toward the loud locker room door.

You look to Peter, who nods with a smile, reaching past you to flick on the light to a meeting room of sorts. Long empty tables and expensive office chairs face a large white board and projector screen on the opposite wall.

“It shouldn’t take long, he already refused the post-game interviews so I’m sure he’s eager to see you,” he attempts to comfort you.

“I just want to go home,” you mutter tiredly as you cross your arms and step inside.

Peter sighs quietly, his brows tilting in sympathy, “Merry Christmas,” he mutters with a sad smile as he salutes goodbye and ducks out of the room, the soft click of the door shutting behind him.

You listen to his light footsteps recede and a silence follows, the muffled sound of voices through the thick walls your only companion. Everyone relishing in the victory, enjoying the merriment of the holiday, while a storm rages within you.

Why are you waiting here for that man? The man who put you through this rollercoaster of a day, without a hint of warning. The same man who prevented you from leaving, who is STILL preventing you from leaving, because somehow his fragile ego outweighs your autonomy. That spite burst back to life as your patience wains. Fuck this. You’re going home.

You turn back to the door and go to leave, but the handle resists. You push harder but it doesn’t budge, they locked you in.

“Hey!” You shout, jarring the handle angrily, “fuckers.”

You push away with a huff and wander the room. Fighting the boredom, you shuffle through the stack of memos and stray paperwork left out on desk at the head of the room. A meeting schedule with lists of players who need to attend, hardly riveting information, yet you jump and pull your hand away sharply when the door suddenly opens.

“Mmm cupcake,” Steve smirks from the doorway.

Good god, he’s huge. Even now, without the padding, his tight workout shirt clings tightly to his bicep, accentuating each perfectly chiseled muscle of his arms and shoulders. He leaves the door open wide as he struts toward you, his thin sweatpants hang low on his hips and reveal his excitement.

You don’t even realize you are backing away until you hit the white board behind you and he is quick to swallow you in his embrace.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” he hums into your hair as he squeezes you tightly and sways you back and forth.

You are once again at a loss for words, trapped in his over eager bear hug, it’s all you can do to hold your breath and wait for it to end. He lets out a long happy sigh and releases you, setting you back on your feet. You grab your coat and pull it tighter around you as you try to step back and get a bit of distance. The size difference, especially up close, is disarming and all that anger that had been raging seeps out of you as you look up at him in awe.

“Did you miss me?” he asks as he runs a finger along your jaw.

You jerk your face away as that salacious glint appears in his eye and you move away, rounding the table to keep a barrier between you, not that a folding table is much of a deterrent.

“What’s the matter?”

You scoff and throw your hands up, “this, Steve! You kept me locked up here like some animal.”

“I came as fast as I could, I left all my teammates so I could come see you,” he rounds the table and you shuffle farther back.

“Steve, just -please,” you hold up a hand, “give me some space.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “we’ve already had plenty of that… which is the whole point of today, isn’t it? … to finally put an end to all this space between us.”

His argument gives you pause and you soften under his sweet smile and the way he takes another slow cautious step toward you.

“I’m sorry they locked you in here, but it smells way better than the locker room right now, trust me,” he jokes.

Emboldened by the faintest smile curling your lips, he takes a larger step forward until he’s only a couple feet away. There’s a brief silence where you try to come up with something to say and he amuses over each of your nervous ticks.

“I hate that you feel so uncomfortable, but I admit I could watch you squirm like this for hours… would be way more entertaining than what I actually spend time doing in this room,” he chatters.

“Yeah I can imagine it gets boring – studying old footage all the time,” you offer, ignoring the first half of his comment.

“Oh you have no idea,” he agrees. “Most of the time I spend it secretly messaging you, though. So I guess it could be worse.”

You finally meet his eye and he grins, “oh yeah, you have been a real life savor.”

That face could melt butter, which is exactly how you feel as he flashes you those perfect teeth, his thick lashes fluttering bashfully as he takes that final step toward you.

“I’ve really enjoyed talking to you too, Steve,” you admit, “but…”

He cuts you off when he spins you and faces you back toward the coaches desk at the front of the room. He pulls your ass against him with a strong hand on your hip while his other hand smooths over your chest, pinning you to him. You gasp at the unexpected change of position and a shiver runs down your back as his hot breath fans down your neck.

“Everyday I spent looking at that desk, imagining it was you up there giving us lessons. Maybe then I’d actually pay attention,” he chuckles into your warm skin. “My favorite is when you call me up to the front and let me show all my teammates what a real champion looks like. I’ve bent you over that desk so many times in my head,” he growls as you feel his arousal grow against your back.

You pull at his hands and he starts to nibble your neck, “Steve,” you moan weakly as he hits that perfect spot, and you struggle harder to get away.

“For all we know, we could have put on quite a show already – up there in that box,” he whisper huskily and you freeze. “But I just couldn’t help myself, it’s been months of teasing and I just had to have you.”

“Steve, no… b-but what if someone saw?” You cry as the regret fills you once again.

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it, I know you did. You are just as eager as I am. You sent me to bed with that picture, remember? … mmm, what was it you said? – you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me,” he reminds you of your drunken lust-filled evening after a whole day of him flirting with you.

You can’t deny that before today you thought you had been ready for anything. Months of all talk without any physical touch had you practically feral – damn hormones.

“I’m not saying I don’t - I’m not denying…“ you stutter as he works his way to the ticklish spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I know,” he interrupts again, hand finding it’s way under your jacket to expertly palm at your breasts over your shirt.

You let out a shocked gasp followed by a moan as he leans over you, making you feel small and vulnerable as his touch gets more insistent.

“See, this is how this room should be used,” a strangers voice intrudes from the open doorway.

Steve chuckles darkly as he lifts his head to peer over his shoulder, “Buck,” he greets, “timely as always.”

You push out of his arms and quickly adjust your clothes, clearing your throat in embarrassment. You step away from Steve and cross your arms, “hi.”

Bucky smirks as he eyes you, “nice to finally meet the mystery girl. I’ve heard, probably too much, about you.”

He laughs at the way your brow furrows in concern, and Steve silently waves off your fears.

“Come on, Buck. Don’t scare her away,” Steve scolds as he comes over and curls his arm around your shoulders.

Bucky holds up his hands in surrender, “I just came to let you know that your ride is here.”

You shuffle awkwardly under the weight of Steve’s massive arm as Bucky’s gaze runs up and down your body, his tongue poking out to wet his lip.

“Yeah yeah, we’re coming,” Steve concedes and gestures Bucky out the door, who leaves with a sardonic smile. You move to follow but Steve keeps you close, squeezing your shoulder to whisper in your ear, “we’ll have to revisit this little fantasy later, huh?”

You eye the desk on your way out of the room, thankful to have an excuse to leave. You have a strong feeling had Bucky not barged in Steve would have had you bent over that table within minutes, regardless of discretion or your apprehension.

“But what about my car?” You ask as Steve escorts you to a blacked out suburban in a rapidly darkening back street.

“Come on, Cupcake. This is the part I’ve been waiting months for… to actually spend some time together,” he cajoles, holding both of your hands in earnest. “You can’t possibly expect me to be satisfied with a brief, though undeniably delicious, half time.”

You grimace at the nickname, but feel a twinge of guilt as you recognize the truth in his words. Even though it’s been a long day, you haven’t really had time alone to talk and you feel as though you owe him at least that.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, raising a brow curiously before you climb in.

He simply beams in response, “you’re gonna love it.”

tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ @caffiend-queen​ @queenoftheworldisdead​ @buttercupfangirl​ @needleandhammer​ @thiskindahotkindamusic​ @lokiswildheartcantbebroken​ @patzammit​ @maluisamarvelfan123​ @yellow-winds​

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

You don’t want to miss dessert - Rio (Good Girls)

Ok so let’s be honest, last night’s episode was just pure teasing, the hands, the smirks, the bedroom scene. God have mercy I’m about to bust 😂 The thought of Rio making you cum into his hands in his own family home while everyone is waiting outside is just 👅 Enjoy this one 😏

Warning : Smut

Word Count : 1.6k (Not proofread)

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Being in business with Rio was definitely a challenge for you. You’ve had your arguments over the past 2 years, them not always ending well. You had wanted out after 8 months, but he wouldn’t let you do that. He had threatened you for you to come back to work with him. The problem with your relationship, was that both of you always wanted to be right and have the upper hand. He loved that you were daring and confident, but he often needed to remind you who was boss.

You could say your relationship was complicated. It was only business related, even though the both of you had slept together a couple of times before, not making it a recuring thing. Three times, you had slept together three times since you had met him, each time better than the other. You would be lying if you said you weren’t drawn and attracted to Rio. Hell, even his name made you feel puddy. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever hooked up with before. Maybe it was the fact that you never really met someone like him, which is normal cause Rio is unique.

People wouldn’t necessary imagine the both of you working and being together, but that’s why it made perfect sense. Neither your entourage nor the FBI would suspect you to be in business with a guy like him. By the look of it, you seem to live in two different worlds, but you were very much alike. You needed to be in control, just like him and you had a certain way to plan and do things, which matched his way to do business.

He thrusted you, and he had spoken to you about meeting important people, which you were nervous for. You didn’t want to imagine someone more dangerous and intimidating than him, but you tried to prepare yourself for the worse. You were supposed to meet later that day and he had texted you the address. Parts of you was always being skeptical about his next move, fearing something bad could happen to you, not that you had anything to hide.

Being on your way to meet him, you felt the palms your hands getting sweaty, wiping them off on the black dress you chose to wear. Just like Rio, dark colors were your go to, often wearing dresses and skirts to show your legs. You got out of the car, walking slowly towards the red door, knocking on it lightly.

“Hey mama” a deep throaty voice startled you, making you turn around to see your boss boarding a slight smirk on his face, eyeing you up and down.

You felt your cheeks getting warmer as he motioned for you to follow him through the backyard. You got nervous for a minute but once you passed the wooden door, you saw kids running around and the smell of grilled food making your mouth water calmed you down. He walked towards the table, putting his arms around an older lady’s shoulder, bringing her closer to him.

“This is my boss” he said, looking at her, then diverting his eyes towards yours quickly

“I’m just his grandmother” she said, chuckling lightly before looking back at you. “You must be (Y/N)”

“I am” you answered, nodding softly

“Well, both of you come take your seat, you arrived just in time for dinner” she said motioning her hands towards the table, where a few plates were already laid down. Rio pulled your chair as you sat down, mumbling a quick thank you, string at him as he took the seat next to you. You were getting slightly less nervous as all of you ate your delicious food while talking and laughing.

“So how do you know my uncle?” a 10-year-old kid asked you, taking a bite of his chicken.

“She’s just a work friend, bud” Rio answered for you

“What’s she do?” the kid asked again, looking at his uncle

“Um, she helps me out” he said looking at you “That right?” Rio smirked at you as you nodded

“That all?” the guy in front of him asked, stepping into the conversation, looking devilishly at the both of you. “Heard a lot about you (Y/N)” he continued as you felt Rio getting tense beside you.

“Um yeah, that’s all” you said slightly blushing, feeling Rio’s hand on your back, rubbing it slowly. He changed the subject, knowing his cousin was making you uncomfortable. You continued eating quietly as they all laughed and talked together. You could feel his hands on your back still, pushing back your chair before excusing yourself.

“I’m sorry, is there a bathroom I could use please?” You smiled slightly at Rio’s grandma, as she gave you direction. You made your way inside, finding the bathroom easily. You did what you had to do, and washed your hands looking at yourself in the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss. You could hear the sound of their laughter from where you were, making you sight lightly.

You got out, making your way through the hallway, passing a bedroom, which seemed to be his grandmother’s. You stopped by the door, seeing some picture frames placed neatly on a bookshelf, making you walked closer into the room to look closely at them. You picked a picture of a young Rio graduating into your hands and it made you wonder what he studied. You didn’t picture him as a big school person, so you were surprised to say the least. You jumped slightly as Rio’s husky voice, interrupted you.

“What are you doing?” he said, leaning against the door frame, looking at you, deeply.

“I don’t know, I just got curious” you shrugged your shoulders, watching his every moves. He moved closer to you, making you hold your breath, nervous and aroused. He made you weak in the knees and you could hardly speak without getting flustered. Even thought you were a confident woman, his body close to yours always had that effect on you, and he knew it. You turned towards the bookcase again, feeling his firm chest pressing against your back, as he picked up a smaller picture frame, the both of you looking at it.

“You find anything interesting?” he asked, his mouth next to your ear, sending down shivers down your spine. He put the frame back, his arms brushing yours lightly, making you turn around to face him. His eyes burned into yours, waiting for your answer. You licked your lips, looking at your fumbling hands before meeting his dark eyes again

“I don’t know” you said, feeling bold you dropped both of your hands on his chest, sliding them down until they could rest on the waistband of his pants “You tell me” you stated, before unbuckling his belt.

He stopped you, grabbing your wrist softly, making you look at him a blush creeping onto your cheeks. He shook his head slightly, putting your hand down and dragging his towards your thigh. His finger danced on your soft skin, goosebumps rising onto your body. He lifted your leg slowly, resting it on his waist. His face now in the crook of your neck, his hot breath fanning over throat, making you close your eyes, appreciating the moment. You felt his long fingers trail up to the side of your emerald, green lace panties, before making his way to your dripping core, spreading your juices, letting out a throaty groan.

The sound of him only making you wetter, his finger making its way into your warm tight flesh. A quiet moan erupted from your mouth as you grabbed his shoulder firmly, bringing him even closer to you. The room was silent, except for the sounds of his digits pumping in and out of you quickly. Your breathing was getting heavier, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, trying to keep your moans to yourself. His thumb found his way to your clit, massaging it slowly, putting just enough pressure to make your body quiver.

He inserted another finger inside of your leaking fold, fastening his pace, making you clench around him. One of your hand traveled to his neck, digging your fingers into the back of it, as he let out a deep groan next to your ear.

“R-Rio” you mumbled quietly, clenching your eyes shut, feeling your climax approaching by the second.

“I know mama” he whispered “let it go” right when the words left his lips, you felt yourself relax into his embrace, as your orgasm took over you. He helped you ride it out, pumping his fingers slowly, before removing them from your inside. You faltered your dress as he moved towards the door.

“Hurry up, you don’t want to miss dessert” he said smirking before leaving you all flustered into his grandma’s bedroom. You waited a few minutes, before following behind him, joining the others around the table outside.

“Ahhh here she is. We wondered where you’ve been” Rio’s cousin exclaimed as you sat down. “Pie?” he handed you a plate, not waiting for your reply. You took it, placing it in front of you listening to the older lady speak. As you all finished your dessert, you saw Rio from the corner of your eyes, dig his finger into the whipped cream remaining on his plate, and popping them into his mouth sucking slowly on them. You could feel his eyes on you, and you could only imagine him smirking as his tongue lapped at his finger, the same fingers that were minutes ago buried into your tight pussy. Just the thought of him tasting the remaining of your hot fluid made you clench your thighs together, Rio not missing the sight of you getting flustered again.

“Mhh … I think this must be the best dessert I’ve ever tasted”

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Thanks for reading

Hope you liked it, let me know what you think

-K

[sinner-as-saint]

Crawling Back To You.

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Run-through: Bucky Barnes had a lot on his plate at the moment. Regrets, fears, nightmares and desperately trying to do the right things to make up for his past as the Winter Soldier. Amongst those things, barely anything made him truly happy, or safe or loved. None did actually - except for you. He met you at a bar once and since then, you’ve been his sanctuary. You both knew he wasn’t quite ready to be in a relationship, yet you were always there with open arms whenever he needed a friend, a shoulder to lean on, or someone to help him take his mind off things. Be it a nightmare, or memories from the past coming to haunt him, or any major or minor inconvenience, the super soldier would find himself turning to you for help. 

Themes: angst, fluff, smut

He woke up on the floor, covered in cold sweat. 

The flashbacks of the nightmares kept resurfacing until it finally faded again. Faded, not truly gone because he knew they’d be back tomorrow again - his past coming to haunt him. He sighed and squinted at the screen in front of him. 

The T.V was on, playing reruns of a show he did not care about. He simply needed the noise to help him fall asleep. The quiet and silence was his own personal hell, so he always needed some sort of background noise to help him out. 

Bucky tried getting some sleep again; tossing and turning on the wooden flooring but he couldn’t fall back asleep. His mind was racing, too many thoughts at once. He checked the time, the clock read 1 a.m. He could go on a run, but he didn’t really feel like it. He could go to the gym, but he didn’t feel like working out either. 

He needed something. An escape, a friend. You, he needed you. 

Bucky reached for his phone, and a few taps later he was calling you. He knew it was late but you somehow always picked up his calls no matter what the time was. The rings later, he heard your voice speak up from the other end. 

“Buck?” You sounded sleepy, but not like he had woken you up, you sounded like you were about to fall asleep. 

He closed his eyes and sighed at the sound of your voice. He could picture you, all tucked in your comfy bed, surrounded by pillows and your soft blankets. Perhaps you had lost track of time because of a good book, or perhaps you were up late responding to emails for work. 

“Hey doll. Did I wake you up?” he asked, leaning back against the wall of his living room, his legs sprawled out on the floor in front of him. Only sometimes did he feel like he was taking advantage of your kindness, but then again he could be selfish when it came to you. You were his, and that’s that. 

You let out a little laugh. “Of course not, Bucky. I was just finishing up some work.” He could hear your sheets shuffling, “Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?” you asked, softly. 

Bucky told you he did. Then he went on to tell you exactly what he had dreamt of. Sometimes he felt like he was opening up more to you than his shrink. But truth is, you made him feel like he was more than just a broken soldier, or a problem who needed to be remedied or fixed. You made him feel like he was human after all. 

“I… I’m trying to fall back asleep but…” his voice trailed off. He didn’t have to say it, you understood perfectly. He knew you did. 

Then he heard his favorite words coming from you, “Come over Buck, I’m waiting.” 

He wasted no time in getting up from the floor and getting dressed. Dark jeans, shirt, jacket and not to forget his gloves. Sometimes he wondered why he felt so giddy when you asked him to come over, which was almost every night. He wondered what it would be like to come home to you every night instead, had it been a perfect world. He always felt like he was clinging to you too much, for everything. But then you always told him that you didn’t mind. You told him you loved his company. 

He grabbed his helmet before stepping out of his apartment. There was a light drizzle outside but he didn’t care, he just needed to be with you. He got down the stairs and then rushed to start his mean bike and then rushed to your apartment building. You lived in a much nicer part of the city than he did, and he often wondered why you were putting up with someone like him when you could have a man who would give you a life you’ve always dreamt of. He often asked you that, but you always just smiled at him, you never answered. 

On his way up to your floor, he couldn’t help but feel all warm in the elevator. He counted down the seconds till he could see you. He often slept over at your place, he loved it. Cuddling, making love, followed by lazy mornings, him trying to get you to not go to work and spend the day with him instead. He loved how you made him feel. 

He knocked on your door, already taking off his gloves because he needed to feel your skin against his. Your body heat made him feel so much better. He heard you unlocking the door from the other side and not even a second later, he saw your pretty face smiling at him. Dressed in silk PJ shorts and a t-shirt, you looked breathtakingly beautiful even at one thirty in the morning. 

“Hello there,” you greeted him, smirking. “That was fast.” You teased, opening the door wider to let him in. 

He smiled and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and pulling you in for a hug immediately. You felt his slightly damp and cold jacket press against you but you hugged him back tightly anyways. 

“I needed to see you.” He mumbled, pressing his face into your neck. 

“I know.” 

-

You and Bucky ended up in your bed, cuddling under the blankets. He loved the dimmed night light you always had on, knowing that he hated being in complete darkness. He loved how cozy your room was, how spacious and airy but also warm and comfortable. 

The large window by your bed showed a lovely view of the city lights, which were right now blurred by the foggy glass, thanks to the light drizzle earlier. He could tell that the air was cold outside, but in here with you everything was just right. 

He had stripped down to just his boxers and he laid his head on your chest, his face facing away from yours, while you played with his hair and occasionally ran your hand down his back, scratching his skin lightly. His cold metal arm lazily ran up and down your thighs and he noticed the goosebumps on your skin that he was causing. 

He could hear your steady heartbeats and that was his favorite sound in the entire world. It calmed him down. 

You looked down, smiling softly at the sight of the muscular soldier using you as a human pillow. You could hear him let out quiet moans as you gently scratched his scalp. You still remembered the first time you two met, at a bar. 

-

It was late on a winter night, and the nearby bar was rather empty; just a few people here and there. And a certain muscular man in a dark leather jacket caught your eye. He was sitting at the counter, and you were in one of the booths. Eventually, you got up and decided to go talk to him. 

You recognized him immediately. Ex-Winter Soldier, Captain America’s best friend, James Buchanan Barnes.

Small talks turned into a couple more rounds of beers. He was a little off and awkward at first but he loosened up eventually. He even walked you back to your car, not wanting you to be alone in the dark, foggy and empty parking lot. 

That was the first time he kissed you, right before he opened the door of your car for you. 

“Will I see you again?” He asked, high off the adrenaline which coursed through his veins ever since you kissed him back. 

“Of course you will. Good night, James.” You kissed his cheek before getting into your car and driving off. 

-

A smile formed on your face as you thought of that night. “Do you remember the first time we met?” You asked softly. 

Bucky turned his face to you, placing his head back on your chest. He was so close that all you needed to do was to lean in a little to kiss his soft, pink lips. 

He smiled. “Yeah, why?” 

“No reason, I just wanted you to remember it.” 

Bucky chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss on your skin, right above your breasts. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What is it?” 

You just smiled at him, “Nothing. You’ve been awfully quiet too.” And judging by the look in his eyes, you could already tell there was something else to his silence. “What is it?” 

He was quiet. 

Sighing, you flipped the two of you around; straddling his waist while he laid comfortably against your multiple pillows. 

“Buck, tell me.” You pressed your palms against his chest to hold yourself up. 

“Sam needs my help with something. Another bad guy, another mission, another fight. Same old.” He sounded indifferent. 

You couldn’t blame him. He had been fighting for decades, non-stop. He had lost so much while doing so, but he also didn’t know how to deal with the calm, and silence and the quiet. There was so much he needed to figure out about himself still. 

“Do you not wanna go?” 

He smiled faintly as he lazily rubbed up and down your exposed thighs. “It’s my job, I have to. Innocent people will be hurt if I don’t. I want to help them.” 

“Then what’s the issue?” 

“I’ll have to leave you behind for a little while.” He didn’t want to. He didn’t know how to be away from you anymore because he hadn’t been for months now. The thought of not being able to hold you close at night and having your heartbeats lull him to sleep was scary.

You smiled down at him. “I’ll be here when you come back, Bucky.” 

He reached out and cupped your face with his metal hand. “And what if you find someone better while I’m gone?” 

You frowned down at him. “Where does that come from?” 

He gently stroked your cheek. “I’m just saying. You deserve someone a little more… normal.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Normal is boring, you seem perfectly fine to me.” 

He chuckled. “Why do you put up with me, doll?” It was a rhetorical question, he didn’t expect an answer because he had asked you this countless number of times but you never gave him a reply before. 

However, you did this time. “Because I’m in love with you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You had been meaning to tell him this for a while now. “You don’t have to say it back, I just needed you to know that no one’s ever gonna replace you. I love you.” 

He was a little surprised, his heart raced as he processed everything. How could someone as gentle, kind and beautiful like you fall for someone as broken as him? “Doll… I…” 

You leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You giggled, then pulled away to look at him. “You deserve all the good things in this world, Buck. You deserve to be loved, and cared for. And if you’d let me, I’d love to show you that.” 

You carefully pressed your lips to his, kissing him with all the love you had. His metal hand held you at the back of your neck and the other wrapped around your waist. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss; turning your mind into a foggy mess for a little while before he pulled away and stared deep into your eyes. 

You reached out and gently caressed his face, Bucky leaned into your touch. “I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled. 

“When do you leave?” You asked. 

“Tomorrow, perhaps.” 

You leaned in for a kiss again, accidentally brushing your crotch against his erection; making him smirk through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You purposely moved against him while you kissed him again deeply. 

Bucky soon flipped the two of you back around and settled in between your legs, kissing down your neck. “I’m gonna miss making love to you almost every night.” He whispered against your skin. His voice alone sent chills down your back, and made you feel all sorts of warm and tingly feelings inside. 

Bucky movements were gentle and slow as he took your clothes off, making sure you were both under the warm covers still; kissing you occasionally as he undressed you, and caressed your body as you squirmed under him. 

He kissed his way down your body, until his face was right in between your legs. You moaned as he parted your legs and placed a kiss on your inner thigh, pulling your underwear down your legs and kissing his way back to your wet folds. You threw your head back, and bit your lip; whining when you felt his tongue teasing you gently. The warmth of his mouth was driving you insane. 

His tongue gently teased your clit while his fingers slipped inside of you; stroking you gently while you arched your back off the surface of your bed as the pleasure became slightly overwhelming. You whimpered and squirmed under him as his tongue moved perfectly against you.

He had you coming undone all over his tongue and his fingers in no time, and he licked you clean when he was done. Kissing his way up your body again. “I’m gonna miss your taste.” He was shameless enough to whisper it in your ear; making you blush. 

His hands roamed around your body, touching you wherever he could, until he finally cupped your core and rubbed the sensitive skin around your swollen clit – making you shudder under him. You whined as he slipped his metal fingers past your entrance yet again. His head dipped into your neck and he licked and bit around your skin until he found your sweet spot. “And I’m gonna miss your warmth.” 

“Buck…” You moaned quietly as he replaced his fingers with his cock. 

He placed his mouth on top of yours again, to swallow your whimpers and moans as he pushed his cock into you. His breathing got shallow again as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head and watched you grimace in pleasure and pain as his cock stretched you to your maximum. He watched you in awe as your lips parted and you moaned his name once he filled you up nicely. 

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force. 

He groaned at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. You heard him swear and felt him bite down on your lip as he sped up into you. He tugged on your lips and he started moving his hips; rocking into you slowly, then gradually increasing his speed. Your back arched off the surface of the bed again and your chest pressed to his.  

“I’m gonna miss watching you squirm under me…” he whispered, “as I pleasure you like no one ever will.” He moaned into your ear. “You’re mine.” 

You were a moaning mess under him in no time. There was something about the way he kissed you, deeply and passionately; as though he was scared you might just get away from him.

He worshipped your body. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you; his metal fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure. 

He pressed his forehead on yours; looking down to where your bodies connected so intimately. Then he pulled away to look into your eyes with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you.

“You’re gonna miss me too aren’t you, doll?” 

You nodded, whining in pleasure. He smirked. His hand left your neck and slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit, earning a loud moan out of you. “Say it, baby. Tell me how much you’re gonna miss my cock buried deep inside you…” 

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release. He noticed and slipped his tongue back into your mouth one last time and took your bottom lip between his teeth again.

“Come on, cum for me… doll,” he swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you; kissing your swollen lips deeply as he came.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. And you cradled his head; panting as well. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp as he calmed his racing heart. A few moments later, he shifted all his weight right on top of you making you laugh as you tried to scoot out from under him. 

He groaned and pulled you closer. “Come here.” He pressed you against his body and wrapped his arms around. “I love you too, doll. So much.” 

You buried your face into his chest, inhaling his scent. “I’m gonna miss you. All of you.” You lifted your head up to look at him smiling down at you. “Come back fast.” 

He chuckled. “You know I will. No matter where I go, I’ll always come crawling back to you.”

[crusty-chronicles]

The Guide To An Idiot's Heart

Step 4: Courting The Fool

The scent of eggs and bacon wafted through the air as you finished cooking. You and Viktor gently swaying all the while. You found yourself comfortable in his embrace. He was warm with the scent of coffee lingering on him. 

He was surprisingly light for how tall he was. Then again, he never really ate when he was working. Or slept. It was a miracle he fell asleep so easily last night. 

You felt his breath on your neck, right next to the place he had kissed. It was a weird sensation that bordered on ticklish and something more. The feeling sending a soft ache to your heart. The peaceful silence was soon broken.

"I've been meaning to ask, who are the two boys in the picture besides your bed?" You gave a hum of acknowledgment before answering.

"Those are my little brothers." He expected you to stop there, not wanting to pry but you continued on.

"Parents were never around, so I raised them by myself. I had to grow up quickly to keep them safe. Before things got worse in Zaun, I used to sneak them up here to see how different everything was. I would promise them that someday we wouldn't have to lurk in the shadows anymore. That things would get better...They're gone now."

Viktor didn't know how to respond. You had confided in him. For whatever reason you trusted him.

He knew what the undercity was capable of. He'd seen it when he was just a child. But hearing it from another person was different. He'd been fortunate enough to grow up during the more peaceful times. Before the streets were running rampant with Shimmer.

You weren't so lucky. You had to take care of two children while trying to survive. You had to watch as the city fell into chaos.

Did you resent him for being able to escape it? Did you think he turned his back on his people for a life of fortunes?

But as he looked down at you, your expression was reminiscent. His grip on you tightened.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said at last. You pressed against him further.

"Yeah." Then realization dawned on you. "Wait! They're not dead or anything! They're just with different people is all! They are not dead! Very much alive!" You were rambling now.

You really weren't good with words, were you? But Viktor didn't mind. He only shook his head in amusement. Only you could suck the soul out of him only to put it back in with your soft laughter.

"They're why you accepted Heimerdinger's program?" You nodded your head, setting the plates for breakfast.

"And they're why you leave to Zaun every month?" You nodded once more, happy your secret would be safe with him.

The rest of the morning went by quite peacefully. Surprisingly, your food was edible. It’s not like Viktor could complain through. He couldn't cook to save his life.

Sometime after, he suggested returning to the lab to finish what he had been working on.

"What, you don't like my company science man?" You teased. "Very much the opposite, but if I don't continue my work Heimerdinger will have my head," he responded. You gave a groan of protest.

"Fine. But I'll be watching you." Then, with a sharp kick, you broke the leg of your table off. Viktor was screaming internally as dishes fell off and shattered on the floor. 

"Wh-what!?" You grabbed the table leg and handed it to him. "For you." What!? You noticed his panicked state.

"You said you needed something for support to get back to the lab." You were a strange woman.

"You said you were going to carry me!" Viktor was very surprised at this turn of events.

"Well you were being weird about it so I thought I'd improvise." "You didn't have to break your table!" You waved him off like what you just did was perfectly normal.

"It was the only thing long enough." Gods help him he was in love with an idiot.

So then he'd spent the entire morning fixing your table because for some reason, you thought it'd be a good idea to break it. Something you used on a daily basis.

But this was okay, he told himself. Because it meant he got to spend more time with you. And who knows, maybe you'd be impressed by his skills.

"What have we learned?" He chastised once he finished fixing the table. "Not to break the things we use." "And?" "And if I break the table again to make sure there's nothing on it." Just as you finished speaking, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh no they found me!" Viktor playfully nudged your shoulder with his own. "Shush." Then the door opened.

"You didn't even lock the door!?" You let out a nervous giggle. "I was really tired last night."

In walked Jayce. The expression on his face was amused.

"I thought I'd find you here. And what a surprise, is that Viktor?" His tone was teasing. "I was worried for a second. Usually I find him hunched over asleep in the lab." Viktor knew what he was doing and from the warmth spreading across his face, he was succeeding.

"I see you two are preoccupied, so I'll leave you to it." Viktor was sure the flush on his face was up to his neck. He tried and failed to clarify things.

"No, no, no! It's nothing like that! We stayed really late yesterday and Y/n wanted to help!"

"I see. Well it sure looks like you had a good night's rest." Jayce gestured to Viktor's messy bed hair.

"I'll leave you two to do more 'sleeping.'" He winked as he closed the door. Viktor was sure he was going to have a heart attack. He wearily glanced in your direction, afraid he'd see disgust on your face. Instead it was confusion.

"How'd he find my house?"

*******************

Viktor had been psyching himself up all week. He was gonna do it. He was finally gonna do it .

He was going to make a move on you.

Between all the lingering touches and adoring glances, his heart couldn't take it anymore. He wanted your hugs, your playful bites, your affections to be more than platonic.

Viktor was used to busying himself with his work. Not stopping for anyone or anything. His work became a distraction from his more carnal, human desires. It stopped his heart from longing for those soft touches. After all, what were emotions compared to making advancements in science that would help people.

He had convinced himself that these feelings only slowed him down. He didn't need them. But then you had showed up.

You weren't someone who saw the world in a scientific perspective. You didn't calculate every step you took. You saw the world for what it was and lived in the moment. You were impulsive, never really caring about what anyone thought.

Viktor wanted to be frustrated with you. He wanted to be annoyed by your naive personality because how could someone so careless get so far when he had to work his way up. But he couldn't find it in himself to dislike you.

Because despite all your faults, you didn't judge him. You didn't treat him any differently because of his leg. You never called him 'The Professor's Assistant.' You never doubted his abilities.

And then you had shown him another side to you. Underneath the blank stares and careless actions was a survivor. A woman too afraid to lose what little she had.

You weren't smart academically, but you didn't have to be. Viktor loved you all the same.

Sure he'd had a crush on Sky. But it was never more than a few compliments back and forth. It wasn't as intimate as the relationship you had with him.

It wasn't as physical.

He didn't hug Sky from behind. He didn't kiss her neck with a yearning for more. And she didn't playfully nip him when she was mad like you did. She didn't hug him without caution to who was watching. And she sure as hell hadn't let him sleep in her bed.

Viktor thought his perfect match would be someone whose intellect had rivaled his own. He didn't expect you to wriggle your way into his heart. But now that you had, he didn't want to let you go.

So he devised a plan to ask you out. He had a new invention he wanted to show you. A more perfected version of the Hex Gemstone. If there was anything that made your eyes light up, it was a new project, even if you didn't understand it.

To say Viktor was nervous would be an understatement. He wanted everything to go perfectly. He had prepared himself for every and any situation. He would either embarrass himself completely or win you over.

When you finally showed up, Viktor let out a sigh of relief. The hardest part was out of the way, now all he had to do was impress you with science. In other words, be himself.

"As you know, me and Jayce have been trying to perfect the Hex Crystals for public use. We've created a prototype that helps to power and amplify objects for everyday use." You made an 'ooh' sound. So far so good.

"This is what we've managed to come up with." He placed a beautiful blue orb in your palm. You stared at it with wide eyes and moved it slowly in your hand, afraid if breaking it.

"It is Y/n proof, so it's okay if you drop it." You looked up at him. The emotion in your gaze caught him off guard. He wanted to look away from the intensity of it, but couldn't find it in himself to do so.

You were looking at him like he'd just created the stars in the night sky. What he wouldn't do to see that expression on your face all the time.

"You made this?" Your voice was hushed. Viktor nodded. "Viktor, this is amazing! I've never seen anything like it. This is just incredible."

Yes Viktor had planned for anything, except for what you said next.

"But-it'd look cooler in purple." He could plan for failure, he could plan for success. But he couldn't plan what would come out of a fool's mouth. And he was sooo close, too.

So there he was, trying to make a purple orb for the girl he liked. It took him about a week to perfect it. If there was one thing Viktor was, it was persistent.

He presented it to you with much less vigor than before. If this didn't impress you, what would?

Your reaction was different this time. Yes you had marveled at the stone, but you also rushed to hug him. Your embrace caught him off guard, but he enjoyed it nevertheless.

"You really made it purple for me?" Your breath was warm against his neck. He had been prepared to make a move, but all that planning went out the window with just one touch.

At last, he nodded. You only held him tighter. His heart was beating so rapidly he was sure you could feel it.

"Thank you so much, Vik. You didn't have to." Then you pulled away and stared up at him. Your eyes were filled with admiration. And Viktor realized, you had never stared at anyone like this before. A fond gaze that was only his.

He felt himself leaning down, yearning for the press of your lips on his. His forehead was pressed against yours. Maybe he didn't need his plan after all.

But nothing was ever that simple with you. You had moved away as quickly as you came. Cradling the purple gemstone in your palm, you showed everyone who would listen. The words 'Look what Viktor made me! He can do anything!' Leaving your lips.

His heart ached for you. You were too cute for your own good. He almost had you. Perhaps it was time to take a more direct approach.

*********************

Viktor was never the romantic type. He didn't take girls on dates or try to impress them by buying them things. But he supposed just this once he could try. Because for you, he'd move heaven and earth.

So there he stood outside your door. Wanting to cross the threshold to a house filled with your presence. Cautiously, he knocked.

He heard you shuffling inside. The shatter of a glass ringing through the air. Then a curse of 'shit'.

Finally, you opened the door. Viktor was met with your disheveled appearance. You brightened up once you saw him.

"Hey, Viktor! What brings you here?" He was suddenly nervous under your gaze, but there was no going back now. So ever so slowly, he brought what he had been hiding behind his back forward. It was a bouquet of roses.

He didn't like your silence. Was this it? Were you finally gonna tell him you didn't like him? Laugh in his face and slam the door?

"Aww, Viktor! Are these for me?" You cooed. He didn't trust himself to speak, so he nodded his head. It seemed he was becoming speechless more frequently around you.

"How'd you know I wanted to start gardening!" You were an unpredictable woman. Viktor let out a small sigh of relief. He hadn't been rejected yet. But now there were other matters to attend to. Like making a garden because the girl he was helplessly in love with wanted one.

***************************

Viktor had was getting bolder with each new attempt to woo you. His next attempt was to write you a note. Not the best way, he admits, but maybe something simple would get his feelings across.

'Dear Y/n, from the moment you stepped foot in Piltover, I knew you were special. Despite where you come from, you don't hold any grudges. You don't treat anyone differently. And you don't resent us. For that, I admire you. I cherish the time we spend together because for whatever reason, you gravitated towards me. You chose to confide in me. And you, everything that you are and stand for, have captured my heart. I love you and I hope that you will return these feelings.

-Viktor'

He had slid the note next to your area in the lab. You found it in seconds. He watched from the side as you read it. Then confusion etched onto your face. Viktor was once again preparing himself for the worst.

"Oh cool! A note! Too bad I still can't read!" He should have seen that coming. You could write your name, but you couldn't write a sentence.

*******************

Viktor decided that he should stop beating around the bush and just tell you. So he asked you to come see him when he knew Jayce would be out. This was it. This time he would get a direct answer. But when you walked in with that dopey grin, he couldn't help the shyness that overtook him. Maybe he could play it off like he was asking for advice? He supposed that was the easiest way.

"Y/n I require your assistance." You had sat next to him, your warmth reaching out to consume him.

"With what? You know I'm no good at this science stuff." He smiled. "Well I was wondering if you could give me some tips." "For?" It was now or never.

"I've recently become quite fond of someone, in the romantic sense. And I was wondering how I should approach this person?" You seemed to ponder it for a second.

"Well you should just come right out and say it. People aren't mind readers. And the worst they can say is ‘no.’" Here goes.

"Y/n, I love you." You smiled brightly. "Like that!" You patted him on the back and stood up. "Now go get em' tiger!"

****************

Viktor was once again busying himself with his work. It was the only way he could think straight. You had managed to slip through his fingers more times than he can count. Maybe he was a fool for persisting? But then you would show up and lay your head on his shoulder. And he was reminded of why he was trying so hard. His thoughts were interrupted by a hand waving in front of his face.

He looked up and saw Jayce. Despite Viktor's best efforts to keep his affections for you a secret, Jayce had caught on. He could see the lingering looks Viktor would give you. The way he would freeze up every time he saw you. And he could see the distress on Viktor's face every time he failed to court you.

"You my friend, are whipped." Viktor tried to brush him off. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Really?" There was a teasing tone in Jayce's voice.

"You made Y/n a purple hex crystal." "A scientist must test his own abilities." "You helped plant her a garden." "She wanted a hobby." "You professed your love to her in a note. Viktor, why can't you just ask her?" He had no retort for that one. So maybe he was whipped for you. That didn't change the fact that you were probably not interested in him.

"Do you really think she could ever love someone like me?" He was weak. He was a loner. He wasn't someone that could give you everything you wanted.

"She hangs off your every word. In case you haven't noticed, she's attached to you by the hip. Whenever she's not in Zaun, she's right next to you in this lab. She might not know what to call it, but she does love you." For once Jayce's words had brought comfort. Viktor hadn't noticed how close the two of you had become.

He was always focused on the thought of your warmth leaving him that he didn't notice how often he'd felt it.

He'd give it one more shot. He'd try one last time.

*****************

You and Mel were on the other side of the lab. She had come in to see the progress the boys made. Once she caught sight of you, however, she struck up a friendly conversation. She started by asking how you liked it here and if you've learned anything since your last encounter.

Your innocent conversation took a rather personal turn once you mentioned how big a help Viktor had been.

"You and him are quite close are you not?" You didn't think anything of her question and answered happily. "Yup! Me and Viktor are great friends. He even made me something!" There was a glint in Mel's eye you couldn't place.

"Oh? Well I figured you two were together. You are rather affectionate for 'friends.'" Confusion was etched onto your face.

"What do you mean? We are together. We're together right now aren't we?" It was then Mel realized why Jayce had asked for her help. While Viktor was well aware of his feelings, you were not.

"So you are dating then?" Finally realization crossed your features. "Oh! No I don't think so. He's never asked me." If only you knew.

"Would you say no if he asked you?" You glanced over at Viktor. "Probably not, but Mel?" She gave a hum of acknowledgment.

"How do I know if I like someone?"

Mel smirked at your question. How cute.

"Well, does Viktor make you happy?" "Very much." That's a start. "What do you feel around him?"

"My heart feels really funny. Like it's going to burst out of my chest every time I'm near him. And my face gets all warm when he says something really smart. I just want to be able to take care of him the same way he does for me."

Without you noticing, your face had gone a soft shade of pink. Mel put her hand on yours.

"That's how you know."

"So do I just tell him?" You were about to walk over when Mel stopped you.

"Well first you need to see if he likes you back." "How do I do that?" "You could try flirting or giving him a compliment." "Compliment?" "It's like saying you admire something about them." "Oh." Well here goes.

"Hey Viktor!" He looked up from his work with Jayce. You gave a friendly wave before you continued.

"You've got a good ass!" His eyes widened for a moment. Then he ducked his head down, not wanting you to see the flush that covered his face. Mel put a hand on her face. You turned to her with a smile.

"Like that?" She groaned in response. "Way to be subtle. You could've said you liked his eyes." "Oops."

******************

It had been a good three days since the lab incident. Viktor had been a lot more stutter-ey around you. Your boldness had caught him off guard and he wasn't sure how to act around you anymore. Were you messing with him? Or did you feel the same way? You were a confusing woman.

Jayce had decided to take the two of you out drinking in celebration of another successful invention.

Viktor wasn't a big fan of parties. He didn't like the noise or people drunkenly running into him. But you were going. And that was enough for him. He supposed he'd be the designated baby-sitter and keep an eye on you and Jayce.

You were drinking more than he expected. Five glasses in and reaching for a sixth. While he knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, the headache you would have in the morning would be hell if he didn't stop you now.

"I think you've had enough." You let out a whine of protest, leaning your body weight onto him. "But Jayce is paying! Gotta savior this while it lasts Vik! C'mon, please!" Your eyes were big and pleading. He had to stop himself from giving in.

"It's going to be one hell of a hangover if you continue. And you don't want to make poor Jayce go into debt paying for all your alcohol." You frowned.

"He doesn't have to know!" Viktor let out a soft laugh. "He'll find out in the morning. You don't want to make your favorite person mad, do you?" You put your head on his shoulder.

"Jayce isn't my favorite person. That's you science man." Viktor was sure you could hear his heartbeat. You were kidding. You had to be. His heart couldn't take it if you weren't. But then you gave a teasing bite to his neck. Your breath tickling his ear.

"You make me happy. You and everything you have to offer. I like being near you and I hate it when I'm not... You're special to me Viktor." You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his temple, the feeling sending sparks through his body. He supposed just this once he could be vulnerable. Just this once he could tell you how he felt, even if you wouldn't remember.

"You're my favorite person too." The look you gave him made all his troubles worth it. Because the way you were staring at him, like he created the galaxy and everything in it, like you loved him, was enough.

Masterlist

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

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When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

“Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

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(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

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None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)