#and i do not know how this is gonna go so i appreciate it!!

[tarotbyjam24]

What do they find sexy about you ? 18+ mdni

Pick a piles \masterlist

Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗

Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️

Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️ Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸

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This reading is a collab between @tarotbyjam24 and @winisayswhat don't forget to check her account

Pile 1

read by @winisayswhat 🫶🏻

Dayum gworl , you're so self aware lmaaooooo, it's giving IAM SEXY AND I KNOW IT SONG VIBE , This is the pile that host a private victorias secret ramp walk for themselves every night loll! You might wear some really sexy lingerie , decked uo with greatttt hair ! I see lots of libido from both the sides , you like being worshipped damn , you might wear some really good perfume . Your future spouse just wants to merge his body with yours cause you look so damn alluring , you are giving 'Queen of heaven " vibes , the might go gaga over your melons and cherries , they will suck them like a ripe fruit , it'll be like a baby sucking desperately in their mums buds ! You are the prize gosh you're SO SEXY ! Some bondage or blindfold might be involved , you guyssss loveeeeeee foreplay ! Your spouse will never get enough of you, you somehow always manage to make their buddy erect , also omg your man will grunt and moan alot as you do the deed , they'll grip your dips tightly while leaving love bites and marks all over you, you'll whimper under their touch ! I see you having many orgasms , and the look you have while having orgasms turns on your man for a second round ! Your man will know how to do foreplay and turn you on, the type of man who'll worship the ground you walk on ! There might also be oral sex involved , your man might also be mighty bulky with beard , and you're a damsel in distress with a small frame compared to them ! Some kind of kink there ahhahaah!

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Pile 2

read by @winisayswhat 🫶🏻

I'm seeing a DEEP attraction between you and your future spouse. They're like sooo drawn to your SPONTANEOUS nature, your ability to light up the room with your presence and aura. Your warmth and energy are like a MAGNET, pulling them in and making them feel alive.You might be a virgin or atleats less experienced than them ! It's giving *i am gonna be your first and last one *They loveeee your personality, they look at you like a baby with sparkly personality that's got them hooked. They're als attracted to your INTELLIGENCE, your creativity, and your passions. They admire your strength, your resilience, and your leadership qualities. You're a TRUE BOSS, and they can't get enough of that.And let's talk about the chemistry between you two. It's like the universe itself is conspiring to bring you together. They feel a deep sense of trululu lmao and destiny when they're with you, like they've finally found their missing piece.Theyre gonna to be the one to initiate the deed , the type of guy who might like the thrill of teasing a girl who isn't often teased , you might get shy or freeze when they initiate proximity, they might like the view from behind 😉, when you bend or are doing house chores . If you're a working woman, you being focused and ignorant will piss them off! They'll do anything and everything to gain your attention. You might have a greatttttttt cleavage and lips, your eyes maybe very doe types , like an invitation for your spouse to *ahem ahem *. They love it when you're unaware about how hot you look ! It's like you're not being braggy about it . They'll like to hold and grab your waist time to time , in bed they live when you ride them, they're gonna be so intense ,gosh don't get me started , you get them possessed during the deed , your body and eyes make them go gaga , they love it when they make you loose control . The way your lips part , the shivers during orgasm , your eyebrows cocked, eyes half closed rolling back wanting to stop yet asking for more ! Gosh it's like badboy x innocent girl trope !

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Pile 3

Pile 3 : they find your silhouette sexy . They like your named body specially in the night light or like fairy lights . They find it sexy when you do some chores or work in body hugging tight dresses or suits . They may also find your love handles sexy like their hands will perfectly fit on your love handles. They find your open hairs sexy . They may also find you sexy when you act like hard to catch bird or when you get mad at them they gonna find it sexy . They gonna find it sexy when your cum flows out or just when your salivas mix with eachothers . They ofcourse gonna find sexual connection find you super attractive . They may also find it sexy when you let the intimacy build between eachother . They may also find sext when you let them dominate probably they have capricorn placements. Also this connection isn't just physical sexual intimacy it's far more stronger than that a soul level deep connection guided by divine.

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Pile 4

Pile 4 : I feel they find your curves sexy like the way you sit on couch the pillow position that makes you comfortable in while sitting. They may like to notice small details about you . They over all find your physical beauty sexy your hairs , your lips and lipstick on it , your eyes , your eyelashes. They're so in love with your beauty . They also find your dressing sense sexy . Like how your body fits perfect in the dresses you wear and how they make your curves highlight. They find your introvertness sexy . They find it sexy when you speak less and act like a old monk . They find it sexy when you act like old soul. You could be probably a old school typa lover or they could be like that too . They find it sexy when you give them advices on their important matters . They like to add your 2 cents too . They may also find it sexy when you're all covered up in those furry hooded dresses or like bear dresses thingy . They also find your dense nature sexy . They may also find it sexy when you get cold like it's their chance to make love or just cuddle with you .

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I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰

Loads of love , jam\gem🩷

Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open

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[sunseed-fandump]

owo! Now i wanna know what the bad batch think about the ancients individually, (mostly dad vanilla, he’s gonna be so stressed)

Hollyberry Cookie The kids had actually plotted to try stealing her Soul Jam first, as her son and daughter-in-law had already gathered a good portion of the Soul Jam’s fragments. Thus, Wild Strawberry Cookie reluctantly entered the Princess Contest in an attempt to get close to the shield and snatch it during the ball. (She actually got really far!) Unfortunately, the Dragon went berserk and the Lost Queen-mother returned to her Kingdom and took up her shield once more.

While Gingerbrave enjoys the general rowdiness of the country itself, he can’t help but wonder why the royal family even bothers ruling if the Queen-mother and its fair princess are never around. King Royal Berry Cookie is a total pushover and Queen Jungleberry Cookie is competent, but even she can’t hold an entire country together by herself. From the kids’ outlook, the Hollyberry Royal Family value their power over others and take it and their subjects for granted. Clearly, a family can’t be that good if they’re always abandoning each other, and a ruler can’t be that good if they’re constantly leaving their kingdom behind. Wild Strawberry especially does not appreciate the seeming lack of loyalty.

Dark Cacao Cookie He’s definitely the biggest tyrant in the kids’ opinions, due to his country’s strict traditions and laws. They saw how he was letting his country wither in favor of bolstering the Wall, and weren’t impressed with the many ruined villages they saw. Combine that with his habit of social exclusivity towards outsiders, Dark Cacao hasn’t exactly painted the best picture of himself.

Even though he’s since taken up his sword once again and has rid himself of Affogato’s influence, the kids still don’t regard him highly. After all, what kind of king restricts his own soldiers from eating sweets?! He’s depriving his people!!! And he calls THEM evil? Ridiculous. Unfortunately, their plan to steal the Soul Jam was sabotaged by Licorice Cookie and Pomegranate Cookie’s interference, what with calling forth the horrors of the Licorice Sea and Pomegranate cursing the King. However, Dark Choco earned a few points with them by leaving Dark Enchantress behind.

Golden Cheese Cookie It doesn’t matter if greed is considered a good thing in her kingdom, Golden Cheese Cookie is so terribly selfish! Their trip to this Kingdom infuriated Gingerbrave, who views her actions as no better than his Witch. He’s been broken to pieces and brought back over and over, and sees the Golden City as a twisted version of what happened to him on a massive scale. How dare she not allow the dead to rest. How dare they have to be subjected to a fake reality at the whim of a self-proclaimed goddess, just because she’s too childish to mourn and move on.

And what would she do to those who acted against her? Reprogram them? Erase them? Well the kids definitely saw how well Smoked Cheese’s attempt at a coup went. Even now, she refuses to let “her” cookies go as her Kingdom sleeps in Soulcheeses. Golden Cheese sees her subjects as objects, something to hoard and do with however she pleases; even to deny them the peace of death. Gingerbrave can’t stand her as a result.

White Lily Cookie As the only Ancient to not have an established Kingdom (at least up until the events of Beast-Yeast), the kids didn’t really know what to make of her. At least, that’s until Wild Strawberry informed the boys of who White Lily Cookie eventually became in other timelines, Dark Enchantress Cookie. The so called Hero of Freedom, becoming the very tyrant they’re rivaling within the race to obtain the Soul Jam.

The kids see White Lily Cookie as a weakling and hypocrite as a result, though they remain ignorant as to how she fell to Darkness in the first place. She must have decided the world didn’t deserve true freedom, and turned into a controlling maniac as a result. Thus, they don’t trust her as far as they can throw her.

Pure Vanilla Cookie Hooooo boy PV. The kids are especially prickly with him. Gingerbrave doesn’t like the fact that a single healing spell from the vanilla king could turn him to ashes. Azure Wizard doesn’t like that his Light magic and high skill level allows PV to dispel a lot of his dark spells. Wild Strawberry doesn’t like his gentle demeanor and kind personality, as she thinks it's just a farce.

They had sought out the Vanilla Kingdom to learn its secrets and advanced magical knowledge, and wound up inadvertently mixed up in the Waffle Bot attacks. It was Healer Cookie who had saved them and brought them back to the Raisin Village for treatment. Despite the villagers’ clear distrust and distaste for the kids, it was Healer who defended them and allowed them to stay. It wasn’t until he was revealed to be Pure Vanilla Cookie that the kids grew hostile, as it was his actions during the War that caused a lot of problems.

He strives for “truth” and “happiness” for all cookies. Well, too little too late, in the kids’ opinions. The truth is the world is a deeply hurtful and terrible place, and Pure Vanilla is willingly blind to it. 

Everyone is so quick to sing the Heroes praises, to show them kindness, understanding, and love. Well where was “kindness” when Gingerbrave was treated like a freak? Where was “understanding” when Wizard had to resort to dark magic to save his own life? Where was “love” when Strawberry was abandoned to rot in a random timeline with no way of returning? Where were ANY heroes when the kids called for help?

There’s no such thing as heroes. Just really good liars propped up on pedestals of fool’s gold.

[thedolmainblog]

hi!! i've been looking at your oc blythe and wreckofwafers yunie, they're so cute together! i wonder what they're like together, if you don't mind me asking?

okay funniest thing is that wreck told me they got a pretty similar question so either its a WILD coincidence or youre the same anon. i must say i admire your curiosity.....

so! what im gonna do is that im gonna explain things from blythe's point of view :3 here we go! under the cut bc it got long lol. as always, yuniekins and the art below belongs to @wreckowafer .

yunie essentially took the Sex route of romancing him, which basically is a series of lewd encounters between the two.....so yes before they even confessed their feelings yunie has given him a blowie, has been fingered multiple times by him and has been throughly thigh fucked.....that last part is what made him snap and finally take yunie for himself

blythe doesnt know this himself but yunie allowing him to take his virginity is a Huge Deal bc she's essentially handing him her highly important bargaining chips to him. but in blythes perspective he sees this as something very precious, something very important (not in the same way yunie sees it, but nevertheless) and seeing her halo crack because of him is. hes so normal about it is what im trying to say.

after the whole bunnyfuck sesh love claim, blythe isnt like. SURE what their relationship is at this point but he was sure of two things : he himself at the very least is very fond of yunie, and he doesn't want this....relationship to end somehow. and so the lewd encounter ensues!

but also he is treating her with small bits of affection. he doesnt want her to think hes a WEIRDO!!!!! even when his heart is bursting with love and affection. small kisses to her forehead, appreciative rub here and there, he protects her from people who bother her and the praises he gives her never ceases. he will get more Insane about it later. hes already happy with what they have going on!!!! and because he eases her into rather than just plunging her in she starts reciprocating the affection too, esp kissing u_u they start kissing on the mouth and both of them are obsessed by it!!!

the event that sealed them as a couple is blythe saving yunie instead of yunie having to save herself!! it was either kidnapping or a group of molester getting to her and blythe Just So Happen in the area, and of course he cant just!! let that slide!! and yall saw how he is when The One is hurt. he nearly beats everyone involved to death with one or two escaping. while hes mentally taking note of the one who escapes, he then turns to yunie to check up on her to see if shes okay (with blood on his hands still!!) and her response is to say i love you. ah.

with i love yous exchanged and yunie feeling safe in his arms 100% (he still thinks that he shouldve been able to prevent the whole thing from happening, but alas) they become rapechesters MOST ANNOYING COUPLE!!!! constantly in honeymoon phase, always near and touching each other. half of the people who know blythe is happy that he isnt grouchy all the time but also oh my god we can hear those two fucking in the back!!!!

like how i always describe blythe when he finally finds The One, everything else becomes a trivial matter compared to yunie. he starts prioritizing her over everything, why spend time doing useless things if he can take care of yunie instead? he has to provide a reason for her to stay with him. he also molds his catastrophic brain damage around HER brain damage and thinks everything she says is right. if they HAVE to be separated for a while, yunie already has a brand new phone blythe gave her to communicate. (somewhere, rhett is pissed off and has put blythe in his shit list for this)

yunie becomes somewhat of his assistant! she has no problem handling paperwork involving shady work and what is essentially money laundering. shes faster at it than he is, so shes always there when he deals with his shady practices. its also a good excuse to keep her near him at all times u_u people know not to touch her anyways

all in all everything she does (only smiling at him, confessing why she feels this way, clinging onto him constantly, wanting to be the goodest girl in the whole world when hes a bit mean to her during sex) only makes blythe fall deeper and deeper to the hole that is I LOVE YUNIE!!!!! he is never going to recover, and he is so, so happy about it. after everything hes been through, he finally found his true love.

[nameless-jamie]

I LOVE RED CARD!!! I'm hoping it can became a mini series inside a series 🥰🥰🥰 Can you write a continuation to the 1st part where Jamie finds put what Rupert said or maybe he overhears something he said about the PA and his recation? Sorry, I know it's not very specific 😅

Drabble - Retaliation (Red Card)

Read RED CARD first to understand!

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, angry Jamie

A/N: Hiii I'm not really sure it has potential to become a mini series but I wrote the situation in which Jamie finds out what Rupert specifically said to Y/N and how he reacts. I hope you like it anyway. Time-wise it happens directly after Red Card.

Flashback to Red Card:

“Nah, nah, I’m just—” He shook his head, grinning. “You got sent off tryin’ to protect me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.” A really sexy thing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Admit it. You care about me.”

...

She huffed. “Oh, trust me. Next time, I’m throwing a punch.”

Jamie grinned. “Now that, love, I’d pay to see.”

...

Jamie had never been more turned on in his life.

It was bad. Really bad.

He was supposed to be the reckless one, the hothead, the one who got in trouble for letting his emotions get the better of him. But Y/N? His PA? The one who always rolled her eyes at him when he got mouthy on the pitch, who reminded him to “think before he acts” at least once a week?

Yeah. She had just gotten a red card.

And not just any red card. She had squared up to Rupert Mannion, called him a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man before getting ejected from the stadium.

Yup, they cleared it up, they talked it out, she cared about him. Jamie had talked to her in the locker room after the game and now it was time to go home. He was driving his little crazy assistant and they were walking to the parking lot.

“You,” he said, slow and deliberate, “are insane for that today.”

She groaned. “Jamie—”

“In a good way,” he clarified. “In a sexy way.”

She gaped at him. “That is not the point right now.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still processing,” Jamie said. “’Cause last I checked, I’m the one who does the dumb shit. Not you.”

Y/N huffed, dragging a hand through her hair. “It wasn’t dumb. It was warranted.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes. “What did he say anyway?”

She hesitated.

Jamie stepped closer. “What did he say, Y/N?”

Y/N exhaled, looking away. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

She shook her head. “Jamie—”

“Tell me.”

Her jaw clenched. Then, finally, she sighed. "He said: What’s Jamie got you doing these days? Fetching his water? Maybe warming his bed? Then he said something about our relationship being a little inappropriate and some misogynistic comments followed, then I lashed out..."

amie’s vision blurred with rage.

“Jamie—”

He was already turning.

“Jamie.”

Her hands grabbed his arm before he could storm back into the stadium. He whirled back to her, jaw tight.

“I’ll kill him.”

“You won’t.”

Jamie scoffed. “You think I won’t?”

“I know you won’t,” she shot back. “Because if you do, I’ll have to bail you out of jail, and I’ve had enough trouble for one night.”

Jamie clenched his fists. “He doesn’t get to talk about you like that.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I handled it.”

Jamie turned, looking down at her. “You shouldn’t have had to hear that,” he said, voice low. “Shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

Jamie’s eyes flickered over her face, still hard with frustration.

She sighed. “Look, I appreciate the protectiveness, but you starting a fight with Rupert isn’t gonna change anything.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Yeah, but it’d make me feel a whole lot better.”

He exhaled again, calming himself. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Her gaze softened. “Yeah, I did.”

A beat.

Then Jamie smirked. “So… you called him a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man?"

Her lips twitched. “Among other things.”

“Fuckin’ hell, love.” Jamie let out a low whistle. “I think I might be in love with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “Shut up.”

Jamie grinned. “Nah, but seriously—next time, at least let me get in a punch first, yeah?”

She sighed. “You’re impossible. Let it go, Jamie.”

Jamie sighed too. "Fuck, I'll try, will you come home with me, maybe watch a movie and chill. I need some company right now..."

"Always."

Jamie didn’t let it go.

Of course, he didn’t.

Y/N knew him well enough to expect it—the moment Jamie Tartt got something stuck in his head, there was no talking him out of it. And apparently, Rupert Mannion being a misogynistic prick about her was something Jamie was more than willing to go to war over.

She caught him that evening, leaning on his kitchen counter, phone in hand, eyes narrowed at the screen.

“Jamie.”

He didn’t look up. “One sec.”

“No, not one sec,” she said, snatching the phone from his grasp before he could react. She glanced at the screen. He’d been typing—no, retyping—a text to someone.

“Who’s this to?” she asked, scrolling up.

“Don’t—” Jamie made a grab for it, but she dodged, stepping out of reach. “Oi! Give it back, you little thief—”

Her eyes scanned the unsent message.

From Jamie Tartt: If I ever hear you talk about her like that again, I swear to fuck—

She scrolled further.

Jamie Tartt: I don’t care how much money you’ve got, you’re still a sad little man

Jamie Tartt: Watch your fucking mouth, old man.

Y/N sighed, locking the screen and shoving the phone into her back pocket. “Jesus, Jamie.”

“What?” He threw his hands up. “Bloke’s a twat. He deserves it.”

“I know that,” she said, exasperated. “But sending him angry texts isn’t gonna do shit except make you look unhinged.”

Jamie scoffed. “Unhinged? I’ll show you unhinged, love. I was about ten seconds away from driving to West Ham’s training ground and dealing with him properly.”

She stared at him. “You mean fighting him?”

Jamie lifted a shoulder. “Not fight fight. Just… you know.” He made a vague punching motion. “Maybe a little slap. He’s old, innit? Wouldn’t take much.”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “You’re impossible.”

Jamie huffed. “I should’ve done something. Back when he said it. Should’ve knocked him on his arse right there.”

She looked up at him then, properly looked. Jamie wasn’t just pissed—he was guilty.

“Jamie,” she said, softer now. “You did do something. You supported me."

“Yeah, but I didn’t even know what he said.” His jaw tensed. “If I had—”

“You’d be serving a five-game, by now.” she finished.

Jamie exhaled sharply. “It weren’t even about football. He was just bein’ a prick, just tryna put you down ‘cause you’re—”

He cut himself off.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m what?”

Jamie swallowed. “Because you’re you.”

Something passed between them. Something unspoken but heavy.

Jamie shifted, glancing away, scuffing his boot against the floor. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is—if he ever talks about you like that again, I will do something about it. Don’t care if I get fined, don’t care if I get benched. Just so we’re clear.”

Y/N bit her lip. “You really would fight him, wouldn’t you?”

Jamie met her gaze. “Yeah.” His voice was quiet. “Yeah, I would. As far as we know you would too, love.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that.

So instead, she reached into her pocket, pulled out his phone, and handed it back.

“No more angry texts.”

Jamie sighed, stuffing the phone into his hoodie. “Fine.”

“Good.”

A beat.

Then Jamie smirked. “I’ll just send him a really sarcastic fruit basket instead.”

Y/N groaned. “Jamie.”

“Oi, that’s classy retaliation, that is.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Come on, dumbass. I’ll buy you dinner before you come up with any more terrible ideas.”

Jamie grinned. “You are my favorite, y’know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, shoving him playfully. “You better start behaving, or I might switch teams.”

Jamie’s smirk faltered for a split second.

Then, before she could register it, he was grabbing her wrist, tugging her just slightly closer, his voice dropping.

“Not funny, love.”

Y/N blinked.

Jamie held her gaze, a flicker of something serious in his expression. But before she could say anything, he let go, stepping back with an easy grin.

“Right,” he said, stretching. “What we havin’ for dinner?”

Y/N exhaled, pushing away whatever that moment was. “Anything except fruit baskets.”

Jamie chuckled. “Shame. Would’ve been a great fruit basket.”

As they walked out together, Y/N knew one thing for sure:

Rupert Mannion may have been a smug bastard—

But Jamie Tartt?

He was a dangerous one.

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please give us damian having to tell readers he got moved to smack down and she’s on raw please ❤️❤️❤️

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️some feels, love and angst‼️

stay, somehow

“y/n…” damian starts, his voice tight like a rope about to snap. he won’t meet your eyes. he’s staring at the floor, jaw clenched, hands fisted at his sides like he’s bracing for impact.

your stomach churns. you don’t like this. damian is always so confident, so sure of himself, but now he looks… afraid.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, stepping closer.

he flinches. just barely. but you see it.

he exhales sharply through his nose and finally looks at you, eyes dark and stormy “i got the promotion, smackdown.”

for a second, you don’t understand why that’s bad. this is something he’s worked so hard for. countless nights spent training, perfecting his mic skills, practicing new moves until his body hurt.

you should be happy for him. and you are. but something isn’t right.

“that’s amazing!” you say happily “but… why do you look like someone just died?”

and then it clicked.

you were, are on raw.

he swallows hard. his fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you but can’t “i have to leave you behind.”

oh.

everything inside you goes still.

“what?” your voice is barely above a whisper “no, no damian…you will still see me…not as much as we use to” your heart broke “but nothing will change”.

“it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. if i say no, i might never get something like this again but i can say no. i can ask them to keep me on raw” he knows they don’t have many plans for him on raw but he can stay, for you. he will stay.

it makes sense. of course it does. but logic doesn’t stop the ache blooming in your chest.

“look at me, you’re not leaving me behind” you say, and it’s not a question. you tried to bring him some comfort that was missing.

his hands finally unclench, and now they’re shaking “i have a choice, i can stay on raw.”

you laughed “damian…it’s not the end of the world, we can work it out. we always do.”

you’re going to miss having him driving you to the arena, and then straight back to the hotel. you’re gonna miss him carrying your luggage, him pretending to be annoyed by your whines about how heavy your luggage is.

or the sleepless nights spent together making love in a random hotel room. the sleepless nights spent watching movies that none of you cared about.

but he has this new opportunity and you aren’t the reason he is going to fuck up his career.

silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating.

he looks at you like he wants to argue, like he wants to fight back, but instead, he just says, “i love you” he takes a step forward “i do. i love you, te amo y/n. this doesn’t change that.”

“it doesn’t. you are my everything.”

he was going to miss you.

one or two days a week were left for you.

how was he going to survive? how were you going to survive?

he reaches for you then, fingers ghosting over your wrist, hesitant “please don’t hate me.”

your emotions fizzles out just like that, because how could you ever hate him? you’re not mad, you’re a little hurt, but beneath all of it, you still love him too.

so you let him hold you. his arms wrap around you tightly, like if he holds you close enough, maybe he won’t have to leave at all.

you let yourself lean into him, just for a moment.

you couldn’t lie. you were going to miss him. you got used to stay with him everyday, all days.

he sensed you were thinking about the whole situation.

“what happens now?” you ask against his chest.

his grip tightens “i don’t know.”

neither of you do.

but when he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, something in your chest settles. because no matter what happens next, no matter where he goes, you were going to be there for him. even if it meant seeing each other once a week.

and somehow, that’s enough.

[soapyghostie]

Slashers maybe going to get a mani pedi with their s/o like get their nails done at a salon and all that like with nubbins especially i wana see that

Welp, I felt like doing another request and suprisingly had time to do it. I hope you don't mind if I made this into a Horror House prompt. I'm absoutely obsessed with Horror House and it's my only motivation to write anything at the moment. Hope you enjoy!

Horror House

Jason is hesitant at first, not really understanding the appeal, but he goes because he loves spending time with you. The nail techs are terrified, but they still do their job, and Jason just sits there quietly, letting you pick a nice clear coat or soft pastel for his nails. He actually enjoys the hand massage and you’ll catch him staring at his nails later. He’s impressed by how good they look. 

Michael just stares the entire time. No reaction, no comments, just silent intimidation as the nail tech works on his massive hands. You pick a deep, midnight blue for his nails. Even though he acts like he doesn’t care, you’ve noticed he’s been more careful with what he does with his hands as if he doesn’t wanna ruin them. 

Freddy totally makes nonstop jokes about how they’re gonna fix his burnt skin. “Bet you haven’t worked on hands this crispy, huh?” He gets a bright, obnoxious red polish and makes suggestive comments the entire time, just to embarrass you. The techs are so done with him, but you just roll your eyes and enjoy your time. 

Bubba is nervous but excited! He’s fidgety at first, but once they start filing his nails and soaking his feet, he’s so happy. You pick a nice pink for him, and he’s obsessed with how they look. He shows Drayton and the others when you get home like a proud child. 

Oh, Nubbins is living for this. He’s making weird little giggling noises the entire time, kicking his feet in the water, and wiggling his fingers at you after they paint them. Definitely asks for little smiley faces on his nails and makes a huge mess, knocking over polish bottles while the workers try to stop him from putting his feet on the counter. 

One word for ChopTop: Twitchy. He keeps messing with his nails the whole time. “Damn, my cuticles are all fucked up. You think you can fix that, babe?” He picks neon colors, just to be extra, and absolutely peels the polish off within an hour after getting them done. Hey! He had fun.

Drayton complains the entire time but doesn’t stop you from dragging him there. “Ain’t no man of mine gonna be sittin’ around wasting money on damn fingernails!” However, you catch him admiring his nails later when he thinks no one is looking. 

Thomas is pretty nervous because he’s not used to being pampered, but once you hold his hand and reassure him, he relaxes. He actually really likes the feeling of the hand massage, even though his hands are rough and scarred. You paint his nails a simple dark color, and even though he hides them from everyone else, you know he secretly likes them. 

Bo acts like he hates it. “This is some real dumbass shit, darlin,” but ohhhh the minute they start massaging his hands, he’s melting into the chair. Let's you pick the color and pretends not to care, but you hear him telling Lester later, “Shit was actually kinda nice.” 

Vincent absolutely loves it! He’s an artist so, of course, he appreciates self-care and aesthetics. He goes for a matte black or deep blue, and he keeps his hands extra still to make sure they look perfect. You catch him taking pictures of his nails later to use for reference for his wax sculptures.

Lester is super excited to get his nails done. He’s pretty chatty with the nail techs and being his usual goofy self. “Ya think my feet are the dirtiest you’ve ever seen?” (Yes, Lester they are). Picks a bright color like orange or green and proudly shows them off to his brothers. They just shake their heads at him. 

Norman is a little shy at first, but he enjoys being pampered. Goes for a natural buffed look, something subtle and classy. Later, he tells ‘mother’ all about it, and you’re not sure if she approves or not. 

Hannibal has been here before. He probably has a regular place that serves him wine while he gets his nails done. Picks a deep burgundy color and lectures you on the history of nail care while you’re just trying to enjoy yourself. 

Amanda acts all tough, but she secretly loves it. Gets black nails or some cool edgy design, like little skulls. Absolutely pulls the “We should do this again sometime” while pretending it wasn’t her idea. 

Billy Loomis is skeptical at first but lets you talk him into it. Gets black nails but acts like it’s just for the ‘cool goth aesthetic’ and not because he actually enjoyed the experience. Stu makes fun of him, so Billy immediately drags him to get one too.

Ohhhh! Stu loves it! “Babyyyy, why didn’t we do this sooner?!” Gets something stupid, like glow-in-the-dark polish, and won’t stop wiggling his fingers in your face to show it off. 

Chucky complains the whole time but secretly enjoys it. Picks a tacky, obnoxious color, probably bright red. He gets wayyyyy into the hand massage and makes inappropriate jokes the entire time. 

Girl! Tiffany absolutely LIVES for pedicures! She has a specific salon she only goes to because “they know how to do my nails right.” She gets long, sharp, black-and-red stiletto nails, and if anyone messes up her set, she will KILL them. 

You have to beg Brahms to go because he’s scared of people seeing his face. He ends up loving the feeling of the warm water and gets super clingy afterward, expecting more pampering from you. Gets a soft pastel color because he secretly wants to match you. 

Billy Lenz just giggles the entire time and talks in his usual inappropriate manner. The nail techs are extremely uncomfortable. Gets Christmas-themed nails even if it’s the middle of summer. 

Pyramid Head just sits in complete silence while everyone panics about how to do his nails with those massive hands he's got. He ends up getting a deep, bloody red because you picked it for him. He doesn’t say much about his nails, but he loves them. He makes sure not to chip the paint off them.  

Carrie has never gotten her nails done before, so she’s shy but super excited. She picks a soft pink or a pretty glittery polish and stares at her nails in awe when they’re done. Later, she keeps looking at them, feeling beautiful and loved. 

Jennifer is in her element. This is her thing. She picks a sultry, sexy color like deep red or glossy black. She bullies you if you pick something plain, but after she’s done teasing you, she’ll insist on fixing them. She loves going to a nail salon, but she doesn’t mind doing both of your guys’ nails at home. She’s a nail pro. 

Danny loves the attention, winks at the nail techs, and makes flirty jokes the whole time. He’s actually gotten some of the nail techs to fall head-over-heels for him and try to get his number. Obviously, he denies. He gets straight black with blood splatters because he has a brand. He definitely smudges his nails on purpose so you have to go back with him. 

Leslie is way too excited to get his nails done. He acts like he’s studying the experience for his “slasher routine.” “Self-care is critical when you’re doing all that running, you know?” He gets something wild, like a gradient of dark green to black, and absolutely records a little monologue about it for his documentary that he is making.

[smallpwbbles]

ngl as someone with d.i.d. (dissociative identity disorder) the tiny jax au is really, comforting? honestly? even tho thats not at all whats happening and the situations are completely different its kinda nice seeing something similar being portrayed where the "second personality" isn't "evil".

the fact regular jax causes all the issues because hes a little bitch™ and tiny jax is just along for the ride (while being scared) is just a really refreshing take on this sorta idea. regular jax may be a victim to the circumstance hes under, but so is tiny jax. neither asked to be in this situation, and whether regular jax likes it or not he's stuck with a second person in his body. he's gonna have to adjust to it if he wants things to stop getting worse (even if adjusting to it is only temporary since in doing so might cause it to go away).

it is stressful to deal with sharing a body with even just one person. communication is key to make things work without causing a massive headache. it is scary to suddenly black out and not know what happens when you aren't in control. it is also terrifying to be threatened and yelled at for existing when you didn't ask to. the only way to get better is to communicate and accept the situation you're in instead of fighting it (more of a lesson regular jax needs to learn then tiny jax. especially since tiny jax is literally just a kid who did nothing wrong).

even tho its all unintentional, a lot of stuff just kinda hits. ofc this isn't me claiming this situation is d.i.d., im very aware its not. just wanted to share how despite it being a completely different thing, it's still relatable. really good au 10/10. my bad for the accidental mini essay. i'd be doing our english teachers proud right now with this shit.

skibidi toilet ohio rizz fortnite battle pass or whatever the kids say

- @carnivalcentipede

Yoo, I really appreciate this, like I defo don’t wanna dismiss the themes of DID I may have accidentally put in this AU especially if yall see it that way. So I’m glad I haven’t done anything disrespectful in how I portray Jaxs inner turmoil of having a part of himself be open and vulnerable with the others

I hate that I’m becoming so old that I only get half of the references kids be making nowadays

[throatgoat4u]

hello, hello, hello, hello to all my lovely people out there. i wanna start of by saying happy valentines to every single one of you. whether you're single, in a relationship, or have just broken up, i hope you all enjoy this amazing day of love and share it with their loved ones.

today's not just about a romantic partner, but to people who you just love. tell your family how much you love and appreciate them for all they've done for you and if that's not an option, share your gratitude with your friends or people who have constantly been there for you and have made you feel loved.

do something kind for someone. give them a hug, write them a letter, compliment them, whatever. you don't have to make some big gesture or go all out, just let someone know you appreciate them.

but most importantly, make sure you love yourself. self love is just as, if not more, important than anything else. how are you supposed to put in your time and effort in loving someone else if you can't do that for yourself? so whether you want to go out and spoil yourself or stay in and take a nice bath and watch movies, make sure you're putting your love for yourself first.

but, loving yourself isn't just about spa days and self care (but like that shit's like amazing so like i definitely recommend a nice everything shower if you're not doing anything today.....) it's also about speaking to yourself kindly, forgiving yourself for past mistakes, and acknowledging that you deserve just as much love as everyone else on this amazing day!

now, that being said, i'm gonna spread all my love to some of the most amazing people on this app! (this is where my formality ends, trust 🤞)

@onevison. i literally love you so much omg. you are one of the nicest people ever and you're actually so creative with your aus. i love talking to you and always enjoy when we chat. i love you!

@freshloveee. you're so so so good at writing and genuinely one of my favorite writers on this app. you're honestly so sweet and kind. i love you!

@chrepsi. you're genuinely one of the funniest people on this app, i cannot. i love your vibe and your music taste is just so ugh. you're so cool. i love you!

@muwapsturniolo. so you're literally amazing?!?! like you're so gorgeous and funny and such an amazing writer. idek how many times i've reread your shit but it's too many to count. anywho..... when's the next album coming out sza????? i love you!

@leoslaboratory. i just binge read your fics last night btw. you're fucking amazing and i love everything you do. dealer!chris is amazing and i absolutely love it. your fics for black history month are eating btw. i love you!

@phone4pills. so so so cool. you're theme is so cool, you're fics are so cool, you are so cool. i'm genuinely sooo happy anytime i've seen that you've posted a new fic or something and am always looking forward to when you write more. i love you!

@mattscoquette. you're just sooooo like awesome. i love everything you write and i love scrolling through watching you answer asks cause you're so funny. i'm still heartbroken over a change of heart (and the fact that you've ruined that song for me 💔). also like petition to bring back my man perv!matt. he doesn't get the love he deserve. anyways, when i was lurking here, i would always stalk your page and you were the first person i found on sturniolo tumblr. you were genuinely such an inspiration for me and one of the biggest reasons i started posting what i write. i love you!

@thenickgirl. you're my favorite nick girl out there. i love how you write for him and give him the attention he absolutely deserves. just cause he's gay doesn't mean we should leave him out guys 😞💔. you're such an amazing writer and you're so funny. i love you!

@t0riiiis. you're literally like so relatable and i feel like i can always talk to you without getting bored. you're there for me and you've shown your love for me countless times and i cannot even begin to say how much it means to me. i love you!

@oopsiedaisydeer. i'm sooo happy that we're like friends now because you're such a nice and cool person. you're an amazing writer and i love when i see updates on your ponyo au. you're so sweet and show me so much support on literally everything. i love you!

@bernardsbendystraws. dare i say that you're the mother of sturniolo tumblr?!?! you're genuinely such and amazing and funny person and make the tumblr fandom a much better place. i love how during that whole pedo scandal, you were there for absolutely every single person and were so helpful in the whole ordeal. you aren't scared of what anyone says about you and you're so confident, it's so admirable (this also goes for @muwapsturniolo, cause if i recall correctly she called her workplace or something like that which is honestly a boss ass move). your writing is also just amazing and never disappoints. you're like a breath of fresh air (that sounded better in my head but it's okay). i love you!

and i've saved the best for last, @snoopychris. idek what to say. like i'm being serious. i love you so much and you're my absolute favorite person on here. i love being able to talk to you everyday and ik you'll be there to listen without judgement. you're so funny (and a bit odd) and i love you for it. you're genuinely like a big sister to me in a way and i just feel like talking to you makes my day. whether it's about an au or just yapping (or saying some weird shit about chris) it always makes my day just so much better. i literally trust you soooo much even if we’ve only known each other for a short time. like when i say i trust you, i mean like i TRUST you. atp, i trust you enough to know what my face looks like, my actual name, and other personal info. like genuinely i feel so comfortable talking to you and you never fail to make me happy! you're such a fun person and so creative. also you're writing?!?! i literally love it. i love you 🧠!

obviously there are so many other people who i absolutely love, adore, and cherish with my whole heart, but these people stick out to me! anyways, i love you guys so much and am so thankful for everyone's constant support. i'm so happy with all the new friends i've made on this app and am looking forward to making many many many more! with lots of love...

toodles sluts :)

(i felt it was necessary to bring back sluts for this post...)

also the fact that i actually wrote that shit at the top from my heart impresses me….. like what?!?!

also one last note, if there’s some misspelled words or i’m just repeating myself like an idiot, please note that its still early and even tho i woke up over an hour ago, im still like half asleep

[lordystrange]

I think it’s okay to ship Finn and Noah.

Please give me the benefit of the doubt. This is gonna be a long post.

I don’t think real-person-shippers are bad people, like some of you often insinuate (or blatantly state). Here’s how I view this:

We often tend to daydream about our crushes, right? Picture ourselves in situations with them, plan our lives and even analyze our dynamic and compatibility as a potential couple. We wonder if they like us back and/or how we could make them like us back. That even includes questioning the sexuality of the crush.

That’s shipping ourselves with this person.

We also do it with our friends. ”Ohh I wonder if this person likes you back… you two would be so cute together!”

So we also ship our friends with their crushes. (unless our friends have horrible taste)

Reading the possible/potential signs of mutual attraction is not only okay but necessary in the dating scheme.

Imagining you and your crush as a couple is also necessary, because that’s how you can learn if you’d even like the relationship and what exactly would it need for you to like it.

Why do we ship fictional characters? Byler for example. There are many answers, but let’s summarise it in ”We like their dynamic.” Just like we’d like the dynamic of ourselves with someone or our friend with someone.

Not all people are ”dynamics-enjoyers.” Not all people are shippers. But if you are, you can’t really help it. Certain dynamics are just so appealing to you. I’d say it’s natural.

We can’t control our thoughts but we can control what we say. I know there are a lot of Byler shippers who also ship Foah but don’t admit it out loud. Some of them are ashamed for it, some are just hiding from the bullies.

There is nothing wrong in finding Finn and Noah’s dynamic cute. There is nothing wrong in wondering if they’re together. There’s nothing wrong in wondering if it’s possible for them to be together some day. There’s nothing wrong in wondering if Finn is queer. (<- Before you wanna argue about that, check the disclaimers.)

Because there’s a difference between shipping and harassing. We can enjoy the dynamic and talk about it without it crossing the line.

What is the line, then? I’d say the line is when the people in question can’t ignore it. Here’s some examples:

A tiktok edit of cute Foah moments?

Ignorable.

A tumblr post analyzing Finn and Noah’s behavior around one another?

Ignorable.

A reddit comment saying ”Foah is so cute together 💕” ?

Very ignorable (it’d get downvoted so fast that they likely won’t ever see it)

But

Harassing their real life partners (if they got those) for ”forcing them into a relationship with them against their will?”

Can’t ignore.

Pestering them with questions about them everywhere they go together, making it uncomfortable for them to be seen together?

Can’t ignore.

Spreading your own interpretation of them like a proven fact, refusing to admit that you don’t actually know?

Can’t ignore. (there’s always people who won’t fact check and will just help spreading it)

Forcing them to come out?

Can’t ignore.

Commenting 25 GIFs of their characters kissing under every single instagram post they make? (iykyk 🙃)

Possibly can be ignored but I’d still find it disturbing.

One might argue that it’s easier to just draw the line in no real-people-ships at all, than trying to draw the line based on semantics and posting platforms.

But one might also argue that it’s easier to just not ship fictional characters either to avoid all complications it may cause.

I’m not one. I ship Byler and I ship Foah too. The extent of my shipping is different between those ships, since Byler is permanently renting room in my brain and Foah is something that comes and goes, but I find enjoyment in both dynamics. I know that my interpretations of the dynamics are just mine and I don’t expect others to see what I see, Noah and Finn themselves included, but if someone does see what I see, I’m happy to appreciate the ships together.

In conclusion: Shippers’ poor behaviour is not shipping. It’s just poor behaviour. Shipping is shipping and as such it’s okay.

Disclaimers you need to read before commenting:

I’m not saying that everybody should ship Foah/real-people-ships. I’m just saying that the ones who do so are not necessarily hurting anybody and therefore shouldn’t be shamed for it.

I’m also not saying that shipping real people is the good/right thing to do. I’m just pointing out that it’s not that different than any other ”form” of shipping.

I understand that there are a lot of different situations to which what I said can’t be directly applied to. We can discuss those, but there’s no need to intentionally come up with the most complex cases possible just to challenge me or ”prove me wrong.”

I know that me saying this might make people uncomfortable for various different reasons. Take your time!

This doesn’t excuse anyone who has been shamed by real-person-ship -antis to shame them back.

If someone manages to point out something I haven’t thought about and it ends up changing my mind, then I do.

I won’t lose my marbles if Foah never really happens.

Thank you for reading! Have a nice day! 💚

[nephilimeq]

Someday

Prompt: Babysitting

@bucktommyfluffebruary

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/161651215

Tommy scrambled to get the house ready, wondering how the hell it had happened that he and Buck were hosting all of the 118’s kids that weekend.

He picked up the wedding ring quilt from the back of the couch, not wanting to risk anything happening to it, and folded it and decided to put it up in their room for the time being.

In less than an hour they would have Jee, Denny, Mara, Nia, and Christopher all there at the house because Howie, Maddie, Hen, Karen, and Eddie were all going to be gone for the next two days because of a medical conference and spa weekend in Palm Springs. Technically, three of them didn’t even have to go, but apparently there was a spa there that they had all been dying to try, and everything had lined up perfectly, so the team had asked Tommy and Evan if they could watch the kids.

Of course they could, why wouldn’t they? It’s not like they had any other plans that weekend.

…but now he was panicking.

His mind raced as he wondered how they were all going to be comfortable.

Chris would be sharing Tommy’s old office with Denny, while the girls would be put up in the guest room with their own bathroom, of course—but what about feeding them all? Sure, Evan was an amazing cook and regularly cooked more than they needed (they usually had leftovers for days), but they were dealing with kids and kids didn’t like the same things that adults like, so what the hell were they going to do about that? And what about keeping them entertained? And what about—

“Tommy, I can hear your brain short-circuiting from over here,” his boyfriend said, gently interrupting his racing thoughts. “Whatever you’re worrying about, stop. We’ll figure it out together. We’ve got this,” he added as he stepped towards him and rubbed his shoulders.

“Do we?” the airman quipped, gripping the forgotten quilt tightly in his hand.

Soft fingers gently pried his own fingers loose and Evan gave him a look.

“We do. It’s just for two nights and then we can give them back to their parents. I’m cooking up a large batch of my homemade macaroni and cheese, a special recipe that even the kids will love, and they can all eat it, I checked with their parents,” he said as he walked them up to their bedroom. “They also all like Disney and it turns out that the girls are all adrenaline junkies, so I’ve picked out a couple of kid safe action movies for them to watch. There’s lots of extra popcorn for the movies and I picked up two twelve packs of soda on the way home,” he said as he placed the quilt over the end of their bed.

Tommy finally nodded and let out a sigh, feeling some of the tension leave him, running a hand through the back of his hair as he said, “Yeah, okay. We’ve got this…oh, but what about showers and baths? How, how is that gonna work?”

Evan tilted his head.

“You know what, I dunno. But we’ll talk to them when they get here, and we’ll figure it out. I have a shower chair that Chris can use when it’s his turn, so don’t worry about that,” he added, patting his arm as he walked past him back into the hallway, and he stared after his boyfriend for a moment, appreciating his preparedness.

After a moment he followed after him, saying, “Okay, so we have some movies. But what about the rest of the time? We can’t just sit them in front a screen!” he argued, feeling the panic rise in the back of his throat once more—

—but yet again, his boyfriend had an answer.

“They all like soccer,” Evan said, opening the front hall closet and pulling out one of the soccer balls that he owned, “And we have a back yard. They’ll be fine, Tommy.”

Okay, yeah, sure. They’d be fine.

--

“Thanks, Uncle Tommy!” Mara called out as she sipped at the lemonade he’d given her, and he smiled and tried not to react to her calling him Uncle Tommy, simply waving at her from the back door as she went out and sat on the blanket on the grass next to Denny, Nia, and Christopher, the soccer ball just off to the side, while Jee sat on Evan’s lap coloring in some of his tattoos with a water-based marker.

She had tried the soccer ball for a little bit but had gotten tired, so Evan had grabbed the markers and told her to go to town on his arms.

Tommy stared at them for a moment, and then back at the rest of the kids, marveling at the fact that things had been going so well.

Maddie and Chimney had showed up first, of course, giving the two of them all of the instructions—and then Evan had cut his sister off with a friendly glare and had said, “Believe it or not, I do know her routine, you guys,” and then had summarily pushed them back out the door.

About fifteen minutes after them, Hen and Karen had arrived with their three kids, and their brood had all piled into the living room and quickly set up their various electronics to charge. Hen had rolled her eyes and said, “Just make sure they get up and move around at some point,” while Karen had been a bit more serious and had pulled Tommy to the side and practically begged him to make sure they spent as little time on their phones as possible, and he had reassured her that he would.

Another twenty minutes later Eddie and Christopher showed up, the teen looking annoyed at not being allowed to be left alone for a weekend, and Tommy could understand his frustration, which was why he was putting almost no pressure on him to do anything.

In fact, he had made a deal with Evan for over the next two days they would let Christopher have as much autonomy as possible.

“Dude, Iron Man would totally beat Green Lantern!” Tommy heard one of the kids say, and he swiveled his head and grinned when he heard Christopher reply, “Are you kidding me, Denny? Stark would…would not even…stand a chance! The ring is…all powerful!”

“Nano tech, dude! He would remove the ring and win!”

A friendly argument ensued, during which Evan looked up at Tommy and asked, “Who’s your favorite superhero?”

“Not really a superhero person, to be honest. I like the complex characters. Like Daredevil,” he admitted, and his boyfriend shook his head and said, “Why am I not surprised? I’m, uh…I’m a fan of of Hawkeye, myself. He keeps up with all those superheroes all on his own merit, you know? Can’t help but admire that.”

He smiled…

…and then he heard one of the kids shout a bit too loud for it just be a friendly argument or horseplay, and without even thinking about it, Tommy turned towards them and raised his voice and said, “Hey, what’s going on over there?” and they suddenly went silent…and then Mara called out, “Nothing! Never mind!” and he resettled against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest, keeping a wary eye on them, hoping that it was genuinely nothing.

The sound of Evan chuckling reached his ears, and he looked down to see him smiling up at him, and asked, “What?”

“Nothing, just…you went all ‘dad’ voice there. You’re, uh…you’re kinda good at this…”

He flushed and ducked his head, suddenly feeling self-conscious—he then muttered, “Not really, just…you know. Observant,” but Evan continued to smile up at him, uncaring of the way Jee had moved from his left forearm to his right forearm, using a bright pink on one of his tattoos.

--

“Food is ready!”

The sound of four sets of feet stampeding down the hall, followed by a more sedate pace of another pair of feet, told him that they were on their way, and he grabbed the paper plates, Evan having told him that it was easier to deal with disposables when dealing with kids.

They came barreling around the corner and Tommy barely dodged, lifting the pan of cheesy goodness high above their heads.

“Whoa! This is a no running zone! I catch you running, you forfeit your dinner to me!” he said, and they all immediately stopped running and he grinned. It was a technique that his Nona had used with him when he was a kid and had visited her house during special occasions—it had always worked on him, and he was pleased to see that it still worked on the younger generations. He then ushered them towards the table and asked, “Did everyone wash their hands?” and was met with a chorus of ‘yes’.

“Good. Dinner is served,” he said, placing the food in front of them, catching a glimpse of Evan over his shoulder bringing over the drinks from the fridge, each one of them getting a water and a soda, so that they had the option, saying that it was better for them to be allowed to choose which they wanted.

“This looks good,” said Christopher, and Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause Evan made it,” he replied, reaching down and ruffling the teen’s hair, smiling as he pulled away from the affectionate gesture. Ah, teenagers.

His boyfriend then sat down at the end of the table with his own plate and the airman joined him, watching as Evan helped Jee with her own food—and then was taken off guard when Nia spoke up from her place on the other side of Mara, saying, “How come you’re the only one who calls Uncle Buck ‘Evan’?” as she stretched to grab the salt, and he gave her a look.

Tommy hesitated…but then honestly answered, “Well, that’s actually a funny story. Do you guys wanna hear it?”

And just like that, every eye at the table was on the firefighter pilot and he grinned.

Chuckling, he explained, “When I first met him, it was when the Captain was lost on the cruise at sea. They needed help to fly into the hurricane, so your dad,” he pointed at Jee, “And your dad,” he pointed at Christopher, “Came to me for my help, along with this guy, right here.” He jabbed his thumb at his boyfriend. “And when he introduced himself he told me his name was Evan Buckley, and so I just called him Evan and he never corrected me. I actually thought he was pulling my leg,” he confessed in a loud whisper, leaning in. “But then I found out later that he liked me and didn’t correct me because he liked me…”

At that, the girls giggled while the boys rolled their eyes and Tommy found himself staring fondly at his boyfriend, who looked embarrassed by the story, even though he found it utterly endearing and wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“That’s romantic,” Nia said as she stirred her mac and cheese, and Maya agreed.

“It really is.”

Tommy nudged Evan’s shoulder with his own and gave him a look, and said, “Yeah, well, I like the romantic movies. I thought it was sweet,” and went back to eating dinner. The rest of the meal went by with relative ease, the kids being mostly good, with only a small argument here and there over who had eaten more.

By the time dessert rolled around, everyone was sprawled out through the living room, and Tommy smiled as Evan stood in front of the kids and said, “Okay, here are your options. We have MotoCrossed—a classic, How to Train Your Dragon—all three films, Where the Wild Things Are, and—of course—the Goonies. So…what’ll it be?” he asked, looking eager to watch absolutely any of them, and Tommy grinned, knowing that Evan had only seen most of those movies in the past two years because he hadn’t had the chance before.

Denny suddenly spoke up, saying, “How about we put it to a vote?” and all the other kids nodded, except for Jee who was focused on coloring a page of her coloring book.

The four older kids exchanged a look and then nodded, and Tommy watched with a fond smile as they figured it out among themselves, with How to Train Your Dragon winning out in a unanimous vote.

Eventually they all settled, and Tommy and Evan brought them popcorn to eat while they watched, and eventually around the middle of the second movie each one of them started to drift off, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, Jee curled up in the crook of the airman’s arm, one of her small hands gripping tightly to his henley, wrinkling the fabric, already completely asleep.

“I’m gonna go get the beds ready,” Evan whispered into his ear, and he nodded.

Tommy watched as he walked away, marveling at how easiy his boyfriend took to a parenting role, every part of it coming naturally to him, and Tommy knew that if he was physically capable of it, he would get his boyfriend pregnant in a heartbeat. God, he wanted to have kids with him so badly, and it honestly took him off guard how deep that ache went, all the way down to his bones, and he had the feeling that it would show up later in their bedroom in an interesting way.

Within the next half an hour they had managed to get everyone to bed, including Jee, even though she had been clinging to him like a limpet.

“God, she adores you, doesn’t she?” Evan said softly as Tommy pried her off and left her in bed.

He shook his head and joined him in the doorway, glancing back at the three girls, who were all fast asleep, looking perfectly content, and then whispered into his boyfriend’s ear, “She adores you, too, I was just the most recent target for the night. C’mon, let’s go clean up.”

They headed back downstairs and finished cleaning up and then collapsed on the couch.

“Night one, done.”

Tommy looked at Evan and smirked and said, “You sound tired, Evan. You sure you can make it another day?”

His boyfriend smiled back at him and quipped, “You bet your ass I can, old man. What about you? I mean, between the two of us, you’re the one that I would worry about,” he added with a sly grin, and the airman tilted his head and regarded him for a moment, debating how he should respond…

…and then said, “I think can handle it.”

They exchanged a soft look.

Tommy was taken off guard when Evan suddenly remarked, “You ever think about, you know…having kids?” and he hesitated a moment before answering—but then said, “Yeah, I guess I have. I’ve always thought that if I did have kids, then I would do it better than my dad did, at least…”

Evan curled up closer to him, nudging his shoulder up to his…and murmured just below a whisper, “I think you’d make a great dad,” and he felt his breath catch in his throat at his words, but didn’t know how to respond, and so said nothing, instead wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders and pulled him in closer. They sat there for a long time, basking in the silence that came from a well enjoyed day, and to Tommy the silence felt fuller knowing that there were five very happy and content kids upstairs. He traced his fingers over Evan’s tattoos, which still had faint shades of pinks and greens from where Jee had colored them in, and he smiled, amused at the sight.

They stayed that way for a while, taking in the moment—

—which was abruptly interrupted by a small voice on the stairs behind them saying, “Can I have a drink of water?”

Jee.

They exchanged a look.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggested, and Evan snorted.

“Yeah, right.”

--

A day and a half later, they watched as the last of the kids were picked up by Hen and Karen, all three of them laughing and practically bouncing on their toes as they made their way to the car, while Hen and Karen thanked them for the weekend.

“Seriously, you have no idea how badly we needed this,” Hen said, and Karen nodded.

“We needed this,” she emphasized.

Tommy chuckled and said, “Hey, no need to explain. Your kids were great, and we had a good time,” and Evan said from his side, “We had a great time! Your kids are awesome,” and both women shook their heads and exchanged an amused glance.

“Yeah, they’re always good for strangers. Trust me, the instant we get home all hell will be unleashed,” Karen explained with a wry glance. “But still, we’re glad that they were good for you. How’d they do with Christopher and Jee?” she asked, looking genuinely curious, and Tommy grinned and answered, “They were great with them. In fact, I’m pretty sure that your kids are now trying to plan a movie night sometime in the next week. Be prepared.”

“Oh, great. Just what we need,” drawled Hen, casting a look back at her kids who were chatting away at a mile a minute as they strapped themselves into their seats.

Evan gave each of his friends a look.

“Hey, I think it’s great. Kids need friends like that…”

They nodded and then headed for their car, Hen saying over her shoulder, “Thanks again, guys,” and Tommy quickly shouted back, “Anytime!” just in time, and then they were pulling out o the driveway and he found that he was feeling rather bereft.

He let out a sigh and the two of them turned and headed back inside…and then Evan said from where he was in the kitchen, already cleaning up the remnants of their large breakfast, “You miss them already, don’t you?” and Tommy nodded.

“Yeah, I kinda do.”

He then walked over to the island, rested his hand on the edge, and softly admitted, “I think we should be dads someday,” and was thrilled when Evan gave him a slow, sweet smile in response, stopping in the middle of putting away dishes to move around the island and slip his arms around the airman’s waist, and then press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Tommy stared at his boyfriend for a second and then said, “So…you’re okay with that idea?”

Evan grinned.

“Like I said last night, I think you’ll be a great dad. And we could be great dads together…”

Tommy smiled.

Time to buy a goddamn ring.

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

Sun To Me part 2

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: Mention of spousal death; Fluff; angst; anxiety

TAGS: @findthebeautyinbreakdowns

.

.

When we get home, I lay AJ down for his nap and try to tidy the house. I decide it is good enough and I hop in the shower. After, I stare at my closet for what feels like forever. Why do I care what I wear? Oh yeah, I know, it’s because Jake Seresin is super handsome and going to be at my house. The feeling of guilt rises again. I don’t know what to do, so I call Bradley.

.

“Hey Y/n!” I word vomit, “AJ invited Jake over to watch a movie with us and I had to clean and I took a shower and now I don’t know what to wear and I also am scared and what if Archer is mad at me.” Bradley takes a deep breath, “Y/n, why would Archer be mad at you?” A lump forms in my throat, “Because I am thinking about someone that isn’t him.” I can hear the sadness in his voice, “Archie is gone. He isn’t coming back. The Archie I knew? He wouldn’t want you to be miserable.” I don’t have any words for Bradley, just tears. He clears his throat, “Is Jake good with AJ?” “He spent the morning building sand castles with him… and now he’s going to spend his Saturday night watching a Disney movie.” “Well, I think Archie would really appreciate that.” I sigh, “Yeah. He would.” Bradley sighs, “Go get dressed and have fun. Cuddle AJ for me.” “Thank you, Roo.”

.

I throw on clean sweatpants and my OU sweater. AJ wakes up from his nap, immediately asking for Jake.

.

.

There is a knock on the door and AJ runs over. “You’re here!” Jake leans down, “Yes sir. I brought y’all some goodies.” AJ scans the bag and nods, “Good job.” Jake laughs and sets the bag on the counter. I smile, “I made pizzas, they’ll be done in a few minutes.” AJ pulls on Jake’s pant leg, “Do you want to see my room?” “Of course!” I pull the pizzas out of the oven and slice them up. When I head down the hallway, I hear AJ talking. I stand just outside the door so he can’t see me. “This one is Teddy. He would fly with Daddy and take pictures everywhere he went.” Jake smiles, “Wow, so Teddy is a world traveler?” AJ nods, “But now he just stays with me and Mommy.” AJ looks down at the bear and my heart aches. Jake leans in, “Hey bud, let’s go get some pizza and then you can eat all the candy you want… deal?” A grin spreads across AJ’s face, “Yeah!” I head back into the kitchen and make plates. We sit at the island and AJ doesn’t hesitate to scarf down his pizza. I look at Jake, “I’m sorry about his table manners. They go right out the window when it comes to pizza.” Jake chuckles, “It is delicious, so I understand. How are you liking your work here?” “It is great. Back in Washington, I was always sitting at a desk. This is a nice change of pace.” I look around and face palm, “I forgot to ask, would you like some wine?” “Sure.” I open a bottle of red, hoping Jake doesn’t feel the nerves radiating off of me. I hand him a glass and he smiles at me, “Cheers.”

.

.

Beauty and the Beast ends, and we look down at AJ. His head is resting in Jake’s lap and he is surrounded by candy and popcorn. I scoop him up and Jake pats his head, “Goodnight little buddy.” Looking up, I clear my throat, “I’m gonna lay him down… If you want to stay we could watch something made for adults and have another glass of wine?” Jake’s smile lights up my dark living room, “I’d like that.” Heat spreads across my face, “Okay… I’ll be right back.” After I tuck AJ in, I stand there for a moment. Tonight has been amazing. AJ seems so comfortable with Jake. I try my best to push down my nerves before I walk back into the living room.

.

.

Jake is standing by my record player, looking through my vinyls. He raises an eyebrow, “You have quite the collection.” I glance at the countless rows, “I started collecting a few months ago. AJ loves going to secondhand shops with me to find them.” I pour us some more wine. He pulls out American Heartbreak and sets the needle to “Sun To Me”. The same song that played last night. His hand reaches out. I set down my wine and he pulls me in. My hand rests on his chest as his settles on my waist. His scent calms me. His touch soothes me. We sway back and forth. He is whisper singing along as I hum. In a moment of vulnerability, I rest my head on his chest. His lips brush the top of my head. I close my eyes as a fluttering feeling rises in my chest. Part of me waits for the guilt to rise, but it doesn’t. What Bradley said earlier really opened my eyes. And right here in this moment, I feel happier than I have in a long time. The song ends and Jake plants a kiss on the top of my head, “I love that song.” I look up at him, “Me too.”

.

.

I sit on the couch, he joins me after putting on an old country record. After a sip of wine I work up to courage to ask Jake about himself, “So, where are you from?” “Texas. What about you?” “Oklahoma, but before here we were in Washington.” He chuckles, “I was wondering about that sweatshirt… but I’ll let it slide.” I gasp, “You’re a Longhorn?” He nods and I shake my head, “Jake, that makes us mortal enemies.” His smirk makes a warmth spread throughout my body, “Well darling, maybe we can call a truce.” I tap my chin, “Maybe, but AJ is a diehard fan. He loves going to games.” Jake thinks for a second, “I’m thinking he just hasn’t seen the beauty that is a UT game. Once he goes to one he’ll convert.” I playfully grab my chest, “He’d be breaking his Momma’s heart.” Curiosity flashes across his face, “Do you have any siblings?” I shake my head, “Just me. Parents are older and never leave the farm. Do you?” He smiles so big, “Two sisters. My whole family is still in Austin.” I look down at my wine, “I always pictured AJ having siblings. Growing up was pretty lonely, I was so jealous of my friends that had brothers and sisters.” His green eyes glaze over with sadness, “I’m sorry. I’m sure none of this is what you had planned.” I sip my wine and shrug, “It’s okay. It’s one thing you know can happen when you marry the military. Everyone just prays that it isn’t them. I feel the worst for AJ… he didn’t sign up for it.” There’s a moment of silence. Jake clears his throat, “AJ is a great kid. He’s lucky to have a Mom like you.” A lump forms in my throat. I smile softly, “Thank you, Jake. Having Maverick and Rooster close is going to be good for him.” Jake laughs, “I mean, Rooster put a car seat in the Bronco! I never thought I’d see the day.” We sit there, giggling and sipping wine. It feels so nice. When we talk, he is giving 100% of his attention to our conversation. He is holding onto every word I say like it’s the most important thing he’s ever heard. I notice that his eyes light up when he’s talking about his family and home. I love seeing the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Thank you for coming over. AJ was so excited. You really didn’t have to do all this.” Jake shrugs, “I know I didn’t have to… I wanted to. AJ is great. His Mom is pretty great too.” My cheeks are hot and I look down at my hands. My throat feels dry and I can’t find any words. Finally I look up at him, “This is the first time I have felt seen in a while.” His green eyes pierce mine, “I see you, Y/n. I can’t seem to think about anything but you since last night.” My voice is low, “Really?” He nods and leans in closer. We are just a breath away from each other. His voice is barely a whisper, “Is this okay?” The warmth is building all throughout my body. I nod. He grins and closes the space between us. His lips meet mine. They are warm and soft. The kiss is gentle and sweet. There’s a spark there that I never thought I’d feel again. Flutters touch my heart. When we pull apart, Jake looks just as breathless as me. I lean into him and he drapes an arm around my shoulders. Silence surrounds us, somehow it is comfortable and exciting.

[respectfulrebel]

I wish I was better at expressing my feelings with words so I could write you a love letter telling you how much I appreciate you sharing your writing with us. The emotions that you weave into every line?? The little pieces of you in every story?? That's what makes them feel soooo alive and makes me care about those characters so much that my little heart swells with love 😭😭😭

Let me start by saying that I appreciate you dividing it in 2 parts because, girl, I needed a break to process some stuff 🫠

Soooooo, I'm just gonna go ahead and scream about my favourite moments now, if you don't mind.

The way she moves, so gracefully and entirely unselfconscious. The way she leans into her friends when she speaks. The dimple that appears in her left cheek each time she laughs, the way her shoulders shake, the way her hair ripples with her movements. She keeps tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, but it refuses to be tamed.

Okay, I think I'M in love with her. Noah's great and all but I wanna know more about heeeer.

She's out of sight. But he can smell her.

🫠🫠🫠

It's the quiet patience in his expression, the almost tender way he waits, that has her putty in his hands. She knows she'll always be safe with him. It doesn't matter that they haven't spent more than five minutes alone together. She feels it in her bones, in the space between them, in the way he looks at her like she's the only thing that matters.

😭😭😭😭😭😭 he just adores her so much i wanna cryyyyy

She laughs, watching his frantic search with amusement. She has no idea that, at this very moment, Noah is contemplating death if he doesn't find it.

that made me chuckle, okay drama king lol 🤭

He waits, letting her adjust. When she shifts, just the smallest tilt of her hips, it's all the encouragement he needs. He moves, achingly slow, each stroke a deliberate act of worship, so careful it almost makes her go mad. A tight, desperate sensation builds in her chest, and for a moment, she thinks she might cry.

🫠🫠🫠🫠 I am so in love with the way you write sex scenes OH MY GOD

His thrusts grow harder, faster. Her thighs cling to his hips. Her feet hoover just above the mattress. Her nails sink into the inked skin of his back as the pressure builds, and he hisses through his teeth. His reaction is instant. He catches her wrists, gathers them in one of his large hands, and pins them to the pillow above her head. Her breath stutters. Then, without warning, he thrusts deep. Take me. A strangled cry tears from her throat.

I was reading that part when my boyfriend asked me what I was reading so I showed him and he nodded approvingly saying "HOT"

Without thinking twice, he lifts a hand and brushes his fingers along the curve of her cheek, soft and reverent in his touch. This moment-the after-, this touch, it feels like a greater intimacy than anything they have just done.

I'm SOBBING at how soft he isssss 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Noah falls asleep with a hand resting on the small of her back, fingers curled over the curve of her ass, the other cradling the back of her neck, keeping her close as if afraid to let go, and his nose buried in her hair, just like he's dreamed so many times.

I'm gonna cry, this is just asdjfjdsksdkjshfkshfhshse AAAAAAA

"Really?" Folio leans forward, elbows resting on the chair armrests. "And why do you look like that? Don't tell me Noah isn't well-equipped down there."

OKAY, Folio has got me DYING. Literally the whole conversation and everything he says is just so funny. Honourable mentions:

"You really thought Noah had a whole-ass daughter?"

"Nothing a blowjob can't fix. Knowing Noah..."

"Hey, Sebastian! Say hi to your daughter!"

What a goof

🥺🤭🤭🤭🤭

"Got a little... distracted last night," he continues, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Saw this girl, and, well... just had to follow her. I suppose I got carried away inevitably."

okay I saw that ;););)

She watches the horizon, the endless stretch of blue where the sea meets the sky, and the way the light dances on the water. Noah watches her. Her profile is beautiful, so soft. A picture of tranquility as she takes in the view, lost in the beauty of the landscape. There's something about the way she looks right now that makes everything else fade into the background.

Ok I love her :/ She has my heart :/

The book eventually ends in Noah's hands. He starts reading the novel, for real, and lets her explore the tattoos on his chest, stomach and arms, answering distractedly every question she has about them.

This is soooo cuuuuuuteeeeeee stooopp ittttt 😭😭😭😭 The whole beach thing with the sunscreen and the shoulder kisses and the freckles and the book was just AAAAAAAAHHHHH 🥺🥺😭😭🥺🥺😭🥺🥺😭😭

"It's hard to believe in anything that's not this moment, right now," he murmurs into her hair.

IT'S HARD TO BELIEVE IN ANYTHING THAT'S NOT THIS MOMENT, RIGHT NOW????????????????????? SOBBING!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

years of sleep — n.s. one shot

"She has always chalked up his teasing and looks to his naturally charming nature. Noah has always been boyfriend material—but never her boyfriend."

Noah and Reader have been drawn to each other for years, but have never dared to act on it—until a wedding and a one-night stand, in which their buried feelings are brought to the surface, along with some misunderstandings.

one shot ✨ noah sebastian x fem. reader words: 11.6k (it's a mini fic, let's be honest) reading time: about an hour it's divided in 2 parts so you can "bookmark it" at part 2 if you don't have time to read the whole thing in one go.

tags & trigger warnings: pure self-indulgence. two attractive idiots in love that don't know how to break the ice—until they do. misunderstandings. Noah has almost shoulder-length hair in this one. manbun!noah. angsty fluff, dirty talk, sexual content (implied masturbation, oral sex with both receiving, p in v protected). mentions of reader having a scar but no further explanation (implied past abuse but no more references to it). fluff, beach setting, noah applying sunscreen on reader, reader having a kink for noah's hair. let me know if sth else needs to be added. - Work inspired by this post by @defuckingthrone-dot-com - Honorable mention to @somebodyels3 for letting me use her butterflyclip-thoughts on this one 🦋

years of sleep — part 1 ☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It’s not the first time they’ve seen each other, but it’s the first time they’ve looked at one another from opposite ends of the room as if nothing else exists. 

They have known each other for two, maybe three years. Her friends are Noah’s friends, and by extension, they have become part of the same circle. Yet, despite the shared acquaintances, despite the countless gatherings and parties and concerts, they have never really spoken—never dared to exchange more than a handful of pleasantries, a few polite questions, and the passing comment about how great the show’d been before drifting away.

But there’s obviously something there. Something that’s always been. 

And tonight, they can’t escape what it’s meant to be.  

The wedding takes place at a seaside resort, where lush gardens stretch toward the shore, with palm trees everywhere swaying in the breeze, and a stone path that leads to an extensive beach. 

She first sees Noah in the hotel lobby. The space is crowded, buzzing with conversation and laughter. The moment their eyes meet, the world shrinks. A pull—subtle but magnetic—draws them in. And then, as if fate conspires to close the distance, Nicholas the groom, appears beside her and steers her toward Noah. 

Their greeting is brief, restrained. A formal hug. Fleeting contact. Her hello stays in his mind. Her voice is soft and sweet. Confident, too. And that smile? That pretty smile has him struggling for words. 

He wants to tell her she looks beautiful. He doubts he’ll have eyes for anyone else that night, not even for the two getting married. 

She wears a slate-gray dress, short and form-fitting, adorned with delicate rhinestones that catch the light. The thin straps expose her shoulders, her collarbone. There’s a necklace around her neck that could easily pass for a choker. The thought makes something in Noah twitch. Her earrings match the glimmer of it beneath the cascading waves of her hair. Her perfume, her scent… It unsettles him in a way he doesn’t fully understand. But, if he’s being honest, he doesn’t want to.

 He could say all of this to her, or he could keep it simple: You look beautiful. But he says nothing. Instead, he pretends to be interested in whatever Nicholas is saying to Matt, though he’s acutely aware of her gaze on him.

She’s just as aware of him—because, for all his efforts, he’s terrible at being subtle.

Noah looks devastatingly handsome today. A black double-breasted suit accentuates his lean frame, and for the first time, his brunette hair is pulled back into a low bun. It’s the first time she’s seen him with his hair up and there’s something about it that’s very attractive. So attractive that she has to turn around to avoid Noah seeing her nibble on her lower lip.  

As she looks away, so does he, letting Matt claim his attention. Alana claims hers, arriving in a stunning purple gown, effervescent with excitement. Her joy is infectious, so much so that, for a moment, she can pretend she hasn’t just spent the last few seconds lost in thoughts of Noah.

The venue is bathed in soft, ivory hues. Rows of elegantly arranged chairs line the aisle, their white cushions pristine beneath the glow of the sun. Sheer white drapery frames the altar, where tall glass vases filled with delicate baby’s breath and white orchids stand on either side. 

Noah stands on one side of the venue, positioned between Matt and Jolly. She is on the opposite side of the main path, nestled among the bride’s family and friends. She’s never thought much about marriage, but for the first time, the idea doesn’t seem so distant. She wouldn’t mind standing where the bride is now, as long as the man beside her is N—

She doesn’t have time to shake herself from the absurdity of that thought because, at that moment, the bride and groom seal their promises with a kiss. The room erupts in applause and cheers.

She dares to glance to her right. And as if drawn by an invisible thread, Noah looks her way, catching her eyes.

He’s clapping, like everyone else, but he stands out. He’s taller than most, impossible to miss. And then, he winks at her—a wink accompanied by a smile so effortlessly confident, so devastatingly attractive, that her knees nearly give way beneath her.

She’s in deep trouble.

God, she just hopes the makeup conceals the flush creeping up her cheeks. 

The celebration continues. The air is filled with laughter and clinking glasses. Music swells through the venue. The food is exquisite, the drinks abundant, and the guests are entertained. 

Despite the social nature of his job, Noah isn’t someone particularly outgoing and social. Rather, he prefers to keep to himself. 

But tonight is different. Tonight, he’s at ease, caught in the warmth of celebration, happy for his best friend. The air hums with good vibes, and for once, he isn’t the center of attention. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Not just because his friend is getting married, but because this day has given him something he’d never had before—an entire day and night in her presence.

The hours slip by, and frustration coils inside him. She’s right there, close enough to touch, yet he can’t seem to break the fucking ice. It’s maddening. He’s trapped in a dance of restraint. He knows it must be obvious, the way he looks at her, the way his body betrays every thought he tries to suppress. She’s the girl he’s barely spoken to, the one he’s only seen in fleeting occasions—yet he’s consumed by her. He’s been thinking of her for weeks, months. Even years, for fuck’s sake. She’s in his dreams. 

He’s dying to know her, to be near her, to hear the cadence of her voice as she talks about the things she loves and the ones she hates. He wants to learn her—her flaws, her habits, the little things. 

But more than anything, he wants to know the taste of her lips, the sounds she makes when she’s touched in the right places, the way she will moan when his hands and lips press on her skin and when his cock is buried deep inside her. 

He has to do something about it, and even though it’s been almost the whole day already, he’s willing to do it tonight.

As the others drink and the minutes slip away, Noah watches her. Discreetly. Intently. 

The way she moves, so gracefully and entirely unselfconscious. The way she leans into her friends when she speaks. The dimple that appears in her left cheek each time she laughs, the way her shoulders shake, the way her hair ripples with her movements. She keeps tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, but it refuses to be tamed. 

And he watches the way she blushes every time she catches him looking. 

When the clock strikes midnight, the dance floor overflows with guests, lost in the music. Neckties have been loosened, hairpins discarded. Jolly has long since abandoned his suit jacket. Matt sits at the table with a girl on his lap, whispering something in her ear that’s making her laugh so hard that even Noah is tempted to walk over and find out what the hell he’s saying. Nicholas and his bride have disappeared, and Noah smiles at the realization, exhaling a quiet laugh as he finishes the last sip of his champagne. Then, he’s back to looking for her. 

And he finds her. 

This time near the exit that leads to the garden, which is so dark and only dimmed by beautifully decorated lampposts with vine and white flowers wrapping around them. 

She stands at the threshold of the stone path, the soft glow from the lanterns casting a golden halo around her. The distance between them is vast—he’s at the other end of the room. But it doesn’t matter. They don’t need words to communicate. 

She blinks. A glance over her shoulder. 

And then she’s gone. 

Noah sets down his glass without a thought as he rises from his seat. His jacket is left behind—he likely won’t see it again, much like Jolly’s. 

He weaves through the throng of dancing bodies, mutters apologies, sidesteps laughter and swaying limbs, people kissing. The pulse of the music fades as he steps outside, swallowed by the stillness of the night and the back noise of waves crashing. 

She’s out of sight. 

But he can smell her. 

Burberry. Vanilla, rich and warm, laced with something darker, something almost sinful. 

He follows the scent. 

The stone path leads to a fork—one trail winds toward the beach, the other into the garden. 

He hesitates, pulse thrumming. Instinct takes over. He veers into the garden. 

Minutes later, he moves parallel to a stretch of resort rooms, their arched balconies overlooking the grounds. Streetlamps line the pathway. A sea breeze stirs the palm fronds, the leaves whispering secrets into the night. 

And somewhere ahead, she waits. 

It has been almost five minutes since she slipped out of the wedding hall. She leans against the wall of one of the buildings closest to the beach, the stoney surface pressing against her bare shoulders. Noah still hasn’t appeared. 

Maybe she misread everything—his looks, his winks, the tenderness of his smiles. Maybe she wasn’t obvious enough. Maybe the pull between them was only in her head, a trick of longing and circumstance. Or maybe it’s just the wedding, the romance in the air making her see things that aren’t really there.

Exhaling, she pushes off the wall and steps into the garden, rounding the corner of the small building. 

And collides with a solid chest. 

The impact is sudden, stealing her breath. Instinctively, her hands fly to the masculine chest for balance, fingers splaying over the firm muscle beneath the black shirt. His hands find her waist, steadying her, holding her in place. 

For a moment, neither of them moves. 

She looks up, and Noah’s almond-shaped eyes pierce trough her, dark but soft. The scent of his cologne—woodsy, expensive—wraps around her, muddling her thoughts. 

Under her palms, she feels the taut ridges of his abdomen. 

Under his hands, he feels the softness of her curves, the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. 

It takes everything in him not to let his hands drift lower—to her ass. 

Then, as if the absurdity of the moment catches up with them, they grin—two idiots completely and utterly lost in each other. 

A second later, Noah lifts a hand to her cheek, fingers featherlight as he tilts her face up to his. 

And he kisses her.

His lips capture hers, slow at first, testing, savoring. She melts instantly, arms winding around his neck, her fingers slipping into his hair. Even in heels, she must rise onto her toes to reach him properly. And this mouth—warm and insistent— tastes of champagne, a sweetness that only makes her hungrier for more. 

She barely notices when he presses her against the wall, steading himself with a palm on the wall next to her head.

By the time she comes to, she’s breathless, her lips are swollen, and Noah’s body is caging hers, his hands cradling her face now, his thumb stroking her skin. He watches her for a moment before his mouth trails from her jawline to the sensitive column of her neck, and when his lips graze that one spot—that spot—heat coils deep in her belly. 

She would have collapsed if not for the hand he slides to her waist, anchoring her, keeping her exactly where he wants her. 

“Let me take you to my room,” he murmurs against her skin. His voice is husky and his breath hot. 

He pauses just long enough, searching her eyes, making sure she knows that this is entirely up to her. Whatever she wants. Whatever she desires. 

It’s the quiet patience in his expression, the almost tender way he waits, that has her putty in his hands. She knows she’ll always be safe with him. It doesn’t matter that they haven’t spent more than five minutes alone together. She feels it in her bones, in the space between them, in the way he looks at her like she’s the only thing that matters.

Her answer is effortless. 

“Lead the way,” she says with a smile. 

Noah’s grin widens. He steals another kiss—because he can’t help himself—before lacing his long, tattooed fingers through hers. 

Without another word, he leads her away. Away from the music, away from the voices, from prying eyes. 

The walk to the room is hurried. Adrenaline and hunger run through their veins. Noah grips her hand, glancing over his shoulder every few moments, his smile impossibly wide, as if he already knows that there’s nothing that’ll change how the night will end. 

He barely makes it to the door without stopping midway to press her against the nearest wall, to claim her lips again, to let his hands roam freely over the curves he has only imagined. 

By the time they reach the secluded corridor where their rooms are, they are almost running. 

A strap of her dress has fallen, slipping down the smooth expanse of her shoulder, and just as Noah swipes his keycard against the door reader, he notices. 

“Wait.”

Two fingers graze skin as he lifts the strap, restoring it to its place. 

The mere brush of his fingers on her skin gives him such a sensation that goosebumps rise on his skin. Noah holds her gaze for a moment. As he gets ready to open the door, her hands curl into the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to her. Her mouth meets his in a kiss so deep, so hungry, that Noah nearly forgets himself, nearly forgets where they are, forgets that anyone could walk by and see him stripping her bare against the cool marble hallway floor and making love to her. 

Somehow, through sheer willpower, he manages to open the door and push her inside, barely breaking contact with her lips. 

Inside, he fumbles for the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a light cozy glow. 

She’s already pulling the hairband from his hair, letting the strands fall loose around his face. She threads her fingers through them. She doesn’t know what shampoo he uses but his hair smells like paradise.

Everything is messy. Desperate. A little awkward. 

And yet, within seconds, they are standing at the center of the room, facing the untouched bed.

She pauses, chest rising and falling, one hand at the nape of his neck, the other resting lightly on his chest. 

She looks around. His belongings are neatly arranged, each item in its proper place. The small details confirm everything she already suspected about him—Noah is meticulous. Even in chaos, he is composed. He’s perfect, and the hand on his hip, delicate and supportive, adoring but never crossing the line, confirms it too.

He’s waiting for her to say something, so his heart almost skips a beat when she slides to her knees on the floor. Heels still on. Her hands on his belt. 

Noah lets her unbuckle it. Fingers move with precision, making quick work of the button and zipper of his slacks. His shirt is next—he unbuttons it, but leaves it open, exposing tattooed skin, muscle, inked lines she clearly wasn’t prepared for.

She inhales sharply.

A near-moan escapes her lips at the sight of him, and Noah smirks.

He would have teased her for it—would have taken his time letting her explore—but then she tugs down his pants.

Her breath catches.

The outline straining against his black Calvin Klein boxers is… larger than she expected.

He watches the moment she processes it, sees the way her pupils dilate, the way her tongue peeks out to wet her lips.

She flicks her gaze up at him, seeking confirmation, blinking once—twice—before curling her fingers around the waistband of his boxers.

And when she pulls them down, Noah is the one exhaling sharply. 

She doesn’t break eye contact.

And when she finally moves forward, Noah knows—he’s done for.

She licks him from the base to the tip. She takes her time, savoring him and entertaining herself just enough to make him shudder. She revels in his reaction before enveloping him in the warm, wet heat of her mouth and taking him on the ride of his life. 

For the first few moments, Noah doesn’t know what to do with himself. He throws his head back and lets out a guttural sound as she takes him deeper, the suction sending jolts of pleasure straight to his core. His muscles tense, his hands flex at his sides, his breath starts coming in in ragged gasps.

His fingers twitch before finding their way into her hair, threading through the silky strands as he cradles her head and looks down at her. Such a good girl.

She looks so focused. He strokes her scalp gently, then guides her back and forth, his control unraveling with every flick of her tongue, every hollow of her cheeks. That’s it. Keep going. A vein bulges at his neck as he struggles to keep himself in check. 

“That’s... Yes. God, sweetheart.”

The sight of her, those lips stretched around him, eyes flickering up to watch his reaction… 

With a sharp breath, he forces himself to pull away, already mourning the loss of her warmth. He runs a thumb over her lower lip, and she catches it between her teeth, nibbling at it. The action makes him laugh—a deep, throaty sound. 

He offers his hand, and she takes it, rising to her feet. Without hesitation, she slides the straps of her dress down her shoulders, letting the fabric slip past her curves and pool at her feet. 

She’s not wearing a bra, and the thong she wears is nothing more than a whisper of lace, a mere suggestion of modesty. 

Noah eats her up with his eyes.

Before he can reach for her, she turns, climbing onto the bed, moving like a kitten. She pauses on all fours to look at him over her shoulder with a coy smile that makes his stomach clench. 

Noah swallows hard. He’s about to lose it. 

When she shifts to sit back, reaching for her heels, he stops her with a touch.

“Let me.”

He pulls his underwear and pants back up before kneeling at the edge of the bed. His grip tender as he slides her shoes off, pressing a kiss to the skin of her ankle. The care in his touch makes her pulse race. It’s so gentlemanly. She’s never felt so cherished. So lucky.

Her underwear comes off next. The weight of Noah’s eyes on her feels heavy, but it makes her feel safe anyway. She wants him. 

She reclines against the pillows, stretching out languidly. She parts her legs. Noah stands there for a breath, taking her in. Her confidence only deepens his hunger. 

He sheds his clothing and shoes and joins her, covering her body with his without yet touching. His fingers trail up her cheeks, his eyes searching hers. 

“Where do you want me?” he murmurs. 

“Anywhere you wish to be.”

He laughs and she trembles under him, loving the sound. 

That’s easy, he thinks. I’m already in bed, with you.

Still, he takes his time, kissing his way down her body, savoring every inch. Loving how the necklace wraps around her neck. He spends needed time on her breasts, playing with her nipples, his tongue circling, lapping. He looks up to see her lips parted and her eyes intently on him. She still not making any sound. Not yet. 

When his hand slides down her ribcage, he notices an old, ugly scar, just beneath her left breast. He also notices the way she stills. He takes one look at her, then kisses the scar without saying anything else and moves on. 

He worships her belly, dips his tongue into her navel, nibbles at her hip bones. 

He leaves the bed only to sit back on his heels on the carpeted floor. He searches for his hairband discarded earlier. When he finds it, he ties his hair up again, the sight alone enough to make wetness pool between her legs.  

Without warning, he pulls her toward him by the ankles. 

A gasp escapes her as he buries himself between her thighs.

There it is. 

His tongue parts her, teasing. He tastes her like a man starved, and it’s the truth—he’s been starving for her for years. His hands grip her hips, holding her in place as she starts to writhe beneath him.

She makes another sound. A soft, breathy moan. Then another. And another. 

It’s the sweetest, most erotic music he’s ever heard, and it only makes him more relentless. He keeps on sucking. He doesn’t stop, not until she’s trembling under him, clutching the sheets, her thighs quivering around his head. 

“Beautiful,” he says. 

She’s still catching her breath when she peeks up at him from beneath heavy lids, her cheeks flushed and lips dry and slightly parted. The sight makes him chuckle, the sound so laced with affection that it envelops her as if the sound of it alone was a comforting blanket. 

“Condom?” she asks when she regains some stability in her breathing. 

Noah blinks, nodding as he starts looking around and rummaging through his things. 

“I’ve got one… just give me a—” He curses under his breath, shoving aside his clothes. She watches him move around the room naked, cock hard. “Fuck. I know I have one… somewhere.”

She laughs, watching his frantic search with amusement. She has no idea that, at this very moment, Noah is contemplating death if he doesn’t find it. But then he spots it. He tears open the packet and rolls it onto him. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his still tied hair but pushing a lose strand back. “Sorted,” he mutters, positioning himself over her on the bed. 

She slides a hand behind his neck, drawing him closer. 

“Come here,” she demands softly. 

And God help him, he does.

She unties his hair, again, freeing the brunette strands to cascade over his forehead. Her fingers slide through the locks, and at the same moment, he pushes into her, slow and deep. 

A gasp catches in her throat as she stretches around him, heat and wetness engulfing every inch of him. 

He feels fuzzy. It’s unbearable, exquisite. His eyes are locked onto hers, and for a breathless second, they simply exist. A moan spills from his lips at the exact moment one escapes her, their voices melding in perfect synchrony.  

It’s better than he ever imagined.

It’s better than she ever imagined. 

He waits, letting her adjust. When she shifts, just the smallest tilt of her hips, it’s all the encouragement he needs. He moves, achingly slow, each stroke a deliberate act of worship, so careful it almost makes her go mad. A tight, desperate sensation builds in her chest, and for a moment, she thinks she might cry. 

She has imagined herself under his body many times. Too many to admit. She has touched herself in the quiet of night, fingers slipping between her thighs, wondering what it would feel like to take him this way, to feel his hardness inside her, the delicious weight of him pressing her into the mattress. To experience the solid heat of his body, his pubic bone against hers, the muscles of his stomach flexing against her own, his breath coming in broken gasps against her lips as he steals kisses whenever he can. 

Reality is nothing like she imagined. 

It’s a thousand times better. 

Noah is heavy and much bigger than she is, but instead of feeling smothered by his weight, she feels enveloped in a delicious embrace that promises to take her all the way to paradise, if she’s not already in it. 

His pace is controlled. The way he moves over her, the way he looks at her, with a little wrinkle between his eyebrows that says he’s being a victim of this delicious torture too, the way his hands touch her body, cling to her... 

His thrusts grow harder, faster. Her thighs cling to his hips. Her feet hoover just above the mattress. Her nails sink into the inked skin of his back as the pressure builds, and he hisses through his teeth. His reaction is instant. He catches her wrists, gathers them in one of his large hands, and pins them to the pillow above her head.

Her breath stutters.

Then, without warning, he thrusts deep.

Take me.

A strangled cry tears from her throat.

Noah’s rhythm shifts, urgency overtaking restraint. His movements become frantic, driven by something raw and insatiable, and she matches him, meeting every thrust, begging for more. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. She can feel the heat of him everywhere—his sweaty skin against hers, his breath hot and labored against her lips, his body relentless in its pursuit of ecstasy. 

If she thought he was handsome before, it’s clear she hadn’t seen him fucking her, covered in sweat and lost in the decadent dance his body is dancing with hers. 

“I’m going to come,” he warns when he knows his release is imminent, voice rough and desperate. 

She feels a rush of satisfaction so intense it nearly tips her over the edge. She wants to prolong this, stretch it into eternity, but she also wants to see him break. She wants to watch him fall apart. See his expression when it happens. 

         Noah is holding on by a thread. He thinks about how once he comes, he’s going to get her to follow him, and then he wants to hold her and have her fall asleep in his arms. In the morning, he wants to see her wake up, blink up at him through sleepy eyes, wants to see her make up-free, in the first light of dawn.     

Fuck, he’s in so deep. And not just physically.

As he teeters at the edge, he refuses to go alone. He slides a hand between them, finding the swollen bundle of nerves that will send her spiraling with him. His fingers work, and within seconds, she is there, climbing, soaring, shattering. The orgasm is scorching. Noah practically roars against her shoulder, biting her without intending to, but she seems to like it, because the moment his teeth sink into her shoulder, she tenses around him. He is still spasming, releasing himself into the condom, when she trembles, arches, and suddenly moans loudly and prolonged. 

She is coming and squeezing him, every last drop. 

His arms hold her against him, crushing her to him as they both tremble through the aftershocks. She can feel the erratic thump of his heart against her chest. He can feel the sweat of her skin clinging to his. 

They feel...at home. 

Noah tilts his head to look at her, catching on the red marks he’s left on her skin. On her shoulder. Clavicle. Breasts. Suddenly, there’s uncertainty flickering behind his eyes. 

He’s never done this—whatever this is. He knows it’s not just sex. It’s something more. Something that’s been brewing, growing beneath the surface for some time. 

She opens her eyes, lips parted, still catching her breath. The sight of her like this, so flushed and disheveled, so swollen from his kisses, hair tangled in wild waves around her face… She could easily fall for a nymph, ethereal and untamed, as if she belongs to the wild.

“Are you okay?”

Noah is surprised, for it is not him asking the question, but her. He almost laughs. 

“I’m fine,” he assures her. 

Without thinking twice, he lifts a hand and brushes his fingers along the curve of her cheek, soft and reverent in his touch. This moment—the after—, this touch, it feels like a greater intimacy than anything they have just done.

Her lips touch the line of his jaw, nuzzling against the faint stubble that has already begun to shadow his skin. He shaved that morning, but the roughness is there, and she loves it. 

His kisses are different now—ghostly, soft and quiet. They make her heart grow wings and flutter. 

Noah pulls away with obvious reluctance, murmuring something about taking care of them. She watches as he slips from the bed, and the moment he is gone, she feels the loss of him like a physical ache. Still, she gathers herself enough to ask him to open the sliding doors to the ground-floor balcony. Noah obliges, and when he does, the distant murmur of laughter and music drifts from the garden, a reminder that the rest of the world still exists beyond this room. 

When he returns, he is utterly, shamelessly naked. He moves with the confidence of someone at home, still just as devastating and delicious as he was that morning, when he was wrapped in a tux and his hair was pulled into a perfect man bun.

She wants to keep Noah for herself. Forever. 

He holds a damp hand towel, hesitating only a moment as he approaches the mattress and murmurs, “May I?”

She nods. 

The first touch of warm cloth against her oversensitive skin makes her shudder. He is careful, tender in a way nobody has ever been with her. She holds her breath. She’s never been cared for like this. 

Minutes later, he stands beside the bed, still naked, hesitating. 

She watches him, her knees drawn up, an arm draped loosely over her chest. A cool breeze filters through the open door, rustling the curtains. Salt and water. 

“Stay,” Noah says, his voice almost tentative. “Please? I promise I don’t snore.”

She has to laugh. He’s so adorable. She nods. 

Relief floods his face as he climbs in beside her, tugging the sheets over them. She curls against him instinctively, pressing her face into the warm space between his shoulder and neck. 

Noah smells of sex and that masculine stench that is every man’s own. If only she knew that he is inhaling her too... And that, deep inside, he wants to wake up with his nose in her hair and her naked body clinging to him all the mornings he has left.

They talk for a while in hushed voices, the adrenaline still pulsing through them. He asks about her favorite food and her favorite flowers. She asks about his hobbies. About his job—what’s the best and worst of it. He mentions martial arts, and she hums, intrigued, and not-so-subtly lets her hands explore his biceps, his thighs, all tattooed, confirming what she already knew. He is strong, but beneath all that muscle, there is softness too. 

She falls asleep half on top of him. 

Noah falls asleep with a hand resting on the small of her back, fingers curled over the curve of her ass, the other cradling the back of her neck, keeping her close as if afraid to let go, and his nose buried in her hair, just like he’s dreamed so many times. 

When she wakes up, her cheek is pressed against something firm yet solid and comfortable. It takes a few seconds for reality to settle around her, her mind still tangled in the haze of sleep. The first thing she registers is the faint soreness between her legs. For a moment, her heart leaps in her chest in surprise, but then she becomes aware of the calm that envelops her, of the warmth and security she feels. Of the arm around her, pressing her tenderly against the male body lying on the bed. 

She lifts her head, and there he is. Noah fast asleep. His breathing slow and steady, lips slightly parted revealing just a hint of his teeth. A stray lock of hair has fallen over his cheek, and before she can think better of it, she reaches out and brushes it aside. 

Noah is a handsome man, but like this, with his guard down, his face relaxed, his body molded against her—he’s breathtakingly beautiful. 

Surrendering to temptation again, she’s about to kiss him and wake him up, steal the first drowsy moments of his morning, when a vibration hums from the nightstand on his side. 

The screen of his phone lights up, and her eyes are instinctively drawn to it. Half draped over his chest, she reaches out just to check the time, but the moment she picks it up, a notification banner flashes across the screen.  

LILIPUTH 👶🏼 "Hey! Mom wants to know if you can pick me up Friday instead of Saturday. She’s busy Saturday morning, so she’d rather drop me at the airport Friday. She says to hurry up because we’re already late, and flights are super expensive! Also, she kinda thinks you should pay for them... but don’t tell her I said that! See you soon!

She frowns. She processes the message. What it means, or what it could mean. 

“Mom says”?

Liliputh and a baby emoticon?

“Pick me up”?

He should’ve paid for flight tickets?

Her stomach twists.

The phone nearly slips from her grasp as the words sink in. 

Fuck.

Is Noah married?

Divorced?

Does he have...a child? Because that sure as hell sounds like a whole lot of parental responsibilities.

She’s holding her breath. Her mind scrambles to piece together a puzzle she wasn’t expecting, one she wasn’t even aware existed. 

And it’s not that he’s done anything wrong. It’s not that he’s lied. 

But she hadn’t thought about Noah having a life before her. A life this big. 

Panic swells in her throat. She realizes she’s laying on top of him sideways, her breasts pressing against his tatted chest. She’s panicking. She no longer feels comfortable or safe in his arms. The sheets feel more like a trap rather than a cocoon of safety. She needs air. She needs space. She needs to get out. 

It takes her less than two minutes to slip out from his arms, gather her clothes, and make it to the door in last night’s dress, barefoot, heels in hand. She doesn’t look back. Her bare feet move silently against the floor. Once she reaches the hallway, she presses her back against the door, heart slamming wildly against her ribs. 

She doesn’t want to leave. 

She wants to stay.

To crawl back into bed, to wake up tangled in his limbs, to feel the weight of his body over hers, his scent. She wants to hear his voice in the morning—sleep-rough and drowsy, whispering the same sinful things he murmured to her in the dead of night when she had been sleeping with her head on his bicep and he’d made love to her again, slow and deep, from behind her. He had first teased her with the tip, kissing her shoulders and neck. A minute later, they were slowly making love, his hand entwining her fingers over her breasts, his hot breath on the back of her neck.

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve touched myself thinking of you—of this.” 

He’d been so attentive and hot the entire night, guiding her as he told her to fuck him, to rock herself against him, to use him… so tuned in with her as he talked her through her orgasm, encouraging her to make a mess on his cock…

She feels... confused and disoriented. In her head, she’s spent years with this perfect idea of Noah, of who he is, of how wonderful it would be to be with him... and suddenly, a simple message destroys all of that. 

It’s not a message. 

It’s reality.

The rest was her fantasy. Her fault. 

The things he had said to her during the night echo in her head. The perfect Noah and the perfect life she had created around him was nothing but an illusion, and now it had shattered, and with it her heart.

years of sleep — part 2 ☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Three hours later, late summer morning, the resort is buzzing with life. Most of the guests, primarily wedding attendees, have slept in, recovering from a celebration that lasted into the early hours. Others have been up since dawn, making the most of their vacation.

She sits at one of the poolside lounge tables, fingers idly tracing the rim of a half-empty glass of orange juice. Sunglasses shield her eyes, and though she’s showered and changed into a simple pastel blue sundress, she still feels the weight of the night lingering in her bones. 

Nicholas and his new wife must already be enroute to their honeymoon destination. Meanwhile, she’s stranded at this oceanside resort, three hours from Los Angeles, until tomorrow. 

And she has no idea how she’s going to spend the next twenty-four hours. 

In her mind, last night should have led to something different—a different chain of events, a different morning, a different future. She had pictured waking up in Noah’s arms, spending the day tangled up in him, stealing kisses between lazy moments and sunlit swims, and ending the night with slow walks along the beach under the stars…

But now, it’s painfully clear that none of that is going to happen. 

“And that long face on such a sunny morning?”

Davis’s voice cuts through her thoughts, drawing her attention to the walkway leading toward the parasol-covered tables. 

She forces a smile, slouching slightly in her chair in an attempt to appear more relaxed. She doesn’t want to bring anyone else down. This is supposed to be a happy day. Everyone else is happy. She refuses to ruin that. 

“Hungover?” Davis tilts his head, eyeing her. 

The way he asks makes her laugh, though the sound feels hollow. He’s swapped last night’s suit for white Bermuda shorts and a floral short-sleeve button-up. He’s really embracing the beach resort vibes. 

“Something like that,” she replies. Though the truth is that, despite sleeping late and being woken up at 4am for another round of sex, she slept soundly. 

“That makes two of us,” another voice chimes in. 

Folio drops into the chair beside her, a beer already in hand. She refrains from commenting on it. He’s dressed similarly to Davis, a backward cap covering his messy hair. 

“Well, you don’t look like it,” Davis notes. 

“That’s because I never hit the bed in the first place,” Folio grins. 

“You didn’t sleep?” Davis guesses. 

“Nope. Figured I’d just keep the party going. Took a swim at sunrise. Man, that’s an experience.”

The two launch into a conversation about his early-morning adventures and order some fruit and pancakes to be brought to the table. Eventually, they notice how quiet she is. 

“What’s with you?” Davis asks through a mouthful of blueberries. “Haven’t slept either?”

Folio smirks. “Or did someone keep you up all night?” He wiggles his eyebrows, his gaze dropping pointedly to the red blotches on her skin. Noah’s lovebites.

She barely reacts. She simply lowers her sunglasses and shoots Folio a pointed look. His grin falters immediately. 

“Oh, it’s definitely that. Who—?”

Before Folio can finish the question, Davis has already put the pieces together. 

“You slept with Noah.”

Hearing someone say it aloud makes it even more real. Her mind floods with images—Noah’s touch, the sweet and filthy things he said to her, the way he held her, the way he felt. Honeyed and intense.

She wraps both hands around the glass, lips pressing together. 

“Really?” Folio leans forward, elbows resting on the chair armrests. “And why do you look like that? Don’t tell me Noah isn’t well-equipped down there.”

She clicks her tongue, annoyed. “It’s not that.”

“So, he is. Is his performance not up to—”

“Nick,” Davis sighs.

“Okay, okay…” he puts his hands up. “Do we need to kick his ass?”

She hesitates, her fingers twitching, before finally voicing the question that has been gnawing at her insides since dawn. 

“Noah has a daughter?”

Folio’s grin vanishes. His brows furrow in confusion, then lift in something close to horror. 

“What?”

She looks between them. “Is he married? Divorced?”

Davis just stares at her, as if trying to understand where this is coming from. 

“You know Noah is single.”

“No. Actually, I don’t. I don’t know anything about Noah. Not really,” she snaps. “I only know what everyone else knows—what you guys tell me. He’s always the quiet one. I don’t know more than what I’ve put together from—from the way he behaves around me and with you guys. And none of you ever mentioned a wife. Or a daughter. Or—”

“Because he’s not married. And he doesn’t have a daughter,” Folios interrupts with a laugh. “At least not that I know of. Can you even imagine Noah married and with a baby?” He looks over at Davis, but Davis just shoots him a warning glance. 

Davis turns back to her with a soft expression. “Come on. You know exactly who Noah is. I know everyone acts like he’s this mysterious, unreadable guy just because he’s private, but the truth is, he’s exactly what you see. He’s quiet, yeah, but he doesn’t need to say much to show you who he is. He writes, he makes music, he lets go on stage… He’s the deep, poetic guy who likes to meditate in the morning and never really raises his voice. He’s thoughtful, maybe too much, and he appreciates life in that annoyingly profound way.” Davis huffs a small laugh. “Even if you haven’t spent much time with him, you know he’s single. The real question is how you two went so long without saying a word to each other when it’s obvious you’ve been pining for one another for years.”

Her heart stutters. “Years? What are you talking about?”

Folio rolls his eyes.

“What are you talking about? Everyone knows you and Noah have been into each other for ages, but because you’re both equally clueless or shy or whatever, you waited until Ruffilo’s wedding to finally do something about it. And now you’re coming in here all ‘Noah is a dad?!’ What the hell did you drink last night? Or more like, what did Noah do to you in bed?”

She groans. Before they can derail the conversation any further, she drops her eyes and mutters, “I saw a message on his phone.”

“A message?”

“From someone named Lily. Liliputh,” she specifies. 

Folio and Davis exchange a glance, and she immediately realizes that yes, there are things about Noah she doesn’t know, and they do. 

Folio cuts into his pancakes, spears a piece with his fork, and pops it into his mouth.

“Lily is Noah’s niece,” Davis explains. “His sister’s daughter. She’s twelve.”

She blinks. 

Once. 

Twice.

“Noah has a sister?”

Since when?

“Yeah. Older. She lives in New York. They only see each other a couple of times a year, that’s why he’s probably never mentioned her. He barely does to us, anyway. But they’re close, and I’m guessing Lily asked to come spend a few days in L.A. before school starts again, and Noah’s offered to take care of her.”

A wave of heat rushes to her cheeks. “Oh my God.”

Folio bursts out laughing, struggling to keep the food in his mouth. “You really thought Noah had a whole-ass daughter? And you thought he was divorced, too?”

She sinks in her seat. “It’s not funny.”

“No, but your reaction is. How many Hallmark movies have you watched?”

Davis, however, looks more thoughtful. “So… you freaked out.”

She sighs. “Yeah…”

“And Noah wasn’t awake when you saw the message, was he?”

“No.”

“So, you got up and left. Without saying a word.”

Her silence and the guilt written all over her face are answer enough.

After a beat, Folio deadpans, “You banged Noah,” he states. “And then you disappeared.”

She shoots him another glare, tempted to kick his shin under the table. “I didn’t disappear. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but not in his bed,” Davis points out. “How would you feel if the roles were reversed? If you woke up after sleeping with him, and he was gone?

A knot tightens in her chest. 

Terrible. Used. Heartbroken. 

Guilt crashes over her, so heavy it makes her stomach churn. Good thing she hasn’t eaten anything… She bites her lip so hard she nearly draws blood. She needs to fix this. 

“Will he… be mad?”

David considers the question at the same time he savors a piece of mango. “Knowing Noah and how much he’s into you… he’ll understand. You just need to talk to him. Tell him why you freaked out. He’ll have a good laugh and later he’ll probably get you back into his bed. Problem sorted.”

How much he’s into me? The way Davis talks about Noah’s feelings is unsettling, like he knows something she doesn’t. Has it always been there, in front of her, and she hasn’t been able to see it until last night?

For years, she has lived off stolen glances and fleeting moments—content with fantasies rather than the courage to actually approach Noah like a normal person would. She always chalked up his teasing and looks to his naturally charming nature. Noah has always been boyfriend material—but never her boyfriend. 

Had she known earlier that Noah was pining for her, butterflies would have erupted in her stomach sooner. She might have finally gathered the nerve to walk up to him, to flirt back in a way that was more obvious to him about her feelings. But now, after abandoning him in that hotel room, she just feels awful. If she can’t fix this, she might as well walk straight into the ocean and let the waves take her. 

“Hey,” Folio squeezed her shoulder, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts. His voice is suddenly surprisingly gentle. “It’s okay. This is not some huge, unforgivable thing. Nothing a blowjob can’t fix. Knowing Noah…”

Davis makes a disgusted noise, pushing his plate away. “Jesus Christ, man. How well do you know Noah?”

Folio throws his hands up again. “It’s a figure of speech, for fuck’s sake. What I mean is, Noah’s not the type to hold a grudge. And if there��s someone who can sweeten him up, that’s you. Talk to him. And if talking doesn’t do the trick… well, give him the look, get down on your knees, and boom—problem solved.”

She debates whether to smack him, but the absurdity of it all makes her laugh instead. Did she really think Noah had a teenage daughter? That he was divorced? She laughs at herself and internally thanks Folio, who always has a way of dragging her out of her head, whether she wants him or not. 

And much to her own frustration… she can’t stop thinking about what he said. 

If talking doesn’t get Noah to forgive her, she’ll do it on her knees and blinking up at him with her big puppy eyes. 

An hour later, after wandering alone by the sea for a while and going over the things she’ll say to Noah when she sees him again, she makes her way back to the hotel. Her sandals dangle from her fingers, her bare feet still damp from where the waves had lapped at her skin. She’s hungry, her body demanding a late breakfast or an early lunch. 

But more than anything, it’s her heart which is demanding. Demanding Noah, to find him, talk to him and— 

She sees him before he sees her. 

He’s at the reception desk, leaning on the counter, dressed in black jeans—in this heat, seriously?— and a white t-shirt. His hair is pulled into the same bun as last night, and he’s wearing black sunglasses. He’s chatting with the receptionist, a woman who smiles at him as she listens intently to whatever he’s saying. Before jealousy can settle in, the receptionist nods and disappears into the back room. 

That’s when Noah turns, reaching into his pocket for his phone, only to freeze the moment his eyes land on her. 

She doesn’t know what to expect. A flicker of irritation? Confusion? Anger? 

But not this. 

Not the way his entire face lights up. Not the way his lips stretch into a slow, easy grin, like seeing her is the best thing that’s happened to him all day. All week. 

“Hey,” he says. 

Her stomach does that thing. 

Hey? 

She approaches cautiously, hyper-aware of his almond-shaped eyes sweeping over her behind those black sunglasses. 

“Hi,” she greets. 

Silence stretches between them. For her, it’s suffocating. But Noah? He seems completely at ease, looking at her like she’s the goddamn sun. 

“Noah,” her voice betrays her a little. She fidgets with her fingers, taking a small step closer. “About this morning, I—”

The receptionist returns, holding a black tuxedo jacket. 

“Here it is, sir.”

Noah turns to her.

“Oh, thank God.” He exhales, taking the jacket and shaking it out. “Thought I’d lost it for good. Or that someone walked off with it.”

“Not at all,” the female behind the counter replies with a polite smile. “Anything else I can help with?”

Her eyes flick between Noah and her before Noah tells her “no, thank you” and she heads back to her desk. Noah drapes the expensive jacket over his arm. 

“Guess I shouldn’t be so careless next time,” he muses.

She frowns slightly.

“Got a little… distracted last night,” he continues, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “Saw this girl, and, well… just had to follow her. I suppose I got carried away inevitably.” His eyes darken slightly, teasing. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Can’t get her out of my head.”

She’s blushing, of course. 

And that’s exactly what he wanted—to make her blush. 

“Prettiest?”

“Prettiest,” he repeats. He takes his hand to his sunglasses and moves them up to his head. When his brown eyes fall on her, she feels that tingling sensation coursing through her again. “Sweetest. Couldn’t keep my hands off her,” he continues, knowing very well what he’s doing. “Guess everything else just… slipped my mind.”

Heat flares up her neck. Why isn’t he upset? Why isn’t he at least a little annoyed that she slipped out of his bed after hours of making love? Why does he have to be so charming to her when she deserves none of that?

“Do you… regret it?” she blurts. 

His brows lift slightly. “Regret it?” he echoes. He glances down at the jacket draped over his arm. Then he smirks. “I’d lose ten of these if it meant spending another night like that with her.” 

She bites her lip, grinning like an idiot. Like the idiot she is for assuming he was a divorced dad.Jesus Christ. She pinches the bridge of her nose, ducking her head to hide her flushed cheeks.

After a beat, he adds, “but preferably if she’s there in the morning.”

Oh.

“What about you?” he asks. “Anything you regret?”

She draws in a slow breath. 

“One thing, yeah,” she admits.

“Yeah?”

By the way his face changes, she can tell he’s suddenly feeling uncertain. Does he think she regrets being with him? That she regrets letting him touch her, letting him fuck her?

“I… want to make up for it,” she says. “So that I don’t carry this regret with me any longer.”

He watches her carefully. “Sounds like one you’ve carried for quite some time.”

She scoffs. If only he knew…

“Long enough to make a fool of myself,” she says. “But I’d like to fix it.”

His lips twitch, fighting back a smile. “You would?”

She nods, pulse quickening. She gives him the sweetest, most disarming smile. “I think I could. If you let that pretty girl spend another night in your hotel bed…”

Noah exhales. With his free hand, he reaches for her, his fingers curling into the fabric of her dress, pulling her toward him. Close enough that when he lowers his head, his nose brushes against hers.

“I don’t think that’s going to be enough, sweetheart,” he murmurs. She presses a hand against his chest—not to push him away, but to steady herself, to feel the solid of him beneath her palm. And, if she’s being honest, just to touch him again. “She needs to stay till morning. Otherwise, no deal.”

She decides she’s going to seal the deal with a kiss. But just as she tilts her head and parts her lips—

“Hey, Sebastian! Say hi to your daughter!” Folio’s voice rings through the lobby. 

They both freeze. 

Noah blinks. 

“What?”

She turns her head just in time to see Folio crossing the marble-floored lobby, a mojito in hand, looking far too pleased with himself before disappearing around the corner. Her face burns. Noah’s expression is one of utter confusion. 

“Is he drunk?” he asks. 

A small laugh escapes her as she drops her forehead against his chest. He still hasn’t let go of her dress. Her fingers grasp the fabric of his white t-shirt as her embarrassment melts into quiet amusement.  

“I thought you were a divorced dad.”

Noah stills. Then he’s lifting her chin with the bend of his fingers. “A divorced—What are you talking about?”

“I accidentally saw a message on your phone this morning—Lily’s message,” she explains. “I was just checking the time, I swear. And when I saw the message, I immediately assumed... that you were divorced. And that you had a child.”

He stays still for another beat, just looking at her. Then, to her complete and utter relief, he throws his head back and laughs. The sound is so warm and rich that it dissolves the last of her tension. 

“Thank God,” he says. 

“Thank God?”

“That you left because of that and not because I snore.”

“You don’t snore,” she assures him.

He exhales through his grin, his thumb brushing her chin. “And you’re adorable.”

“Pretty sure I’m just stupid.”

“Stupidly adorable.”

“Thanks,” she rolls her eyes, only confirming what he just said. 

Adorable. 

Her stomach betrays her then, letting out a low rumble. 

She groans. Seriously, can I catch a break?

Noah glances down at her middle with a grin, amusement dancing in his eyes. 

“Perfect timing.”

“Huh?”

“Now that I’ve got my jacket back, and I found the pretty girl I was looking for…” he pauses and tilts his head, “I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me?”

Like he even needs to ask. 

“I’d love to.”

“It’s a date, then.”

He offers his hand. She takes it, just like last night. 

They share a light lunch at the seaside restaurant of the hotel, which is located beneath a shade of swaying palm trees and cottage-like roof. The ocean stretches before them, glistening under the midday sun, waves rolling lazily onto the shore. The air is charged with salt and the aroma of grilled seafood, mingling with the faint sweetness of tropical flowers. 

Their table is a feast of colors—salad with citrusy vinaigrette, golden spring rolls, focaccia glistening with olive oil, and a selection of small plates. Conversation is effortless between them as the breeze rustles through the palm fronds and plays with her hair. 

They talk about everything. Food. Music. Work. He asks about her studies, and she asks about the book he’s reading. He makes her smile. She makes him laugh. She even offers him a bite of her plate and feeds him with a fork. They never mention the fact that last night she had his cock in her mouth or that he mapped out every inch of her with his tongue until she was shaking under him. 

After the plates are emptied and cleared, they stay, reclining in their chairs as the slow afternoon unfolds. The occasional lull in conversation is easy. It’s a silence that doesn’t demand to be filled. 

They sip iced tea later, enjoying each other’s company as the engulf in the refreshing drink. 

She watches the horizon, the endless stretch of blue where the sea meets the sky, and the way the light dances on the water. Noah watches her. Her profile is beautiful, so soft. A picture of tranquility as she takes in the view, lost in the beauty of the landscape. There’s something about the way she looks right now that makes everything else fade into the background.

Noah is in love, and he knows it. He’s been for a long time. He’s not letting her leave his bed the next morning, or any other for that matter. 

“Want to go for a swim?”

His question shakes her out of her momentary haze where she was imagining herself in the water, wrapped around Noah’s torso, being kissed under the sun. 

“What, in jeans and Adidas?” She jokes, giving his outfit a pointed once-over. 

Noah glances down at himself. “Yeah, good point… I’ll go get changed.”

She hums, pushing back her chair at the same time. “I’ll grab the sunscreen.”

They leave together, strolling through the resort’s sun-drenched pathways, holding hands. In the hallway outside their rooms, Noah keeps their arms extended and hands together before reluctantly releasing her. 

He should have kissed her. The though gnaws at him as she disappears three rooms down. 

It’s fine. He’ll kiss her when he has her in his arms again in a matter of minutes. 

They meet ten minutes after in the lobby. Noah has swapped his jeans for black swim trunks, his sneakers for flip-flops. His white T-shirt remains. a towel is slung over his shoulder. His eyes rack down the white bikini peeking through the airy fabric of her sundress. She catches the way his jaw ticks, how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. 

She shakes the sunscreen bottle in front of him. “Got it.” 

Noah takes the tote bag from her with a quiet smile, ever the gentleman.

When they step onto the beach, they walk a little farther from the resort’s main area, the sand cool beneath their feet as they seek out a quiet spot all to themselves. The beach is tranquil, mostly deserted, with only a few scattered sunbathers, the low season keeping it peaceful. They lay out their towels side by side. 

Of course, Noah suggests applying sunscreen on her. To her surprise, he’s again very gentlemanlike about it, asking for permission before he spreads the lotion across the curve of her ass. When she turns around and offers her chest to him, her nipples are visible through the fabric of her bikini top. He notices, obviously. But doesn’t say a word. When his fingers lightly access under the fabric and caress the curve of her breasts, she holds her breath. Then Noah pokes her nose, leaving a streak of cream on the tip and laughs, a boyish sound. 

“Charming,” she says. 

“I know,” he replies.

But even when he says that, it seems that his usual cocky grin is subdued. He seems more serious now, his gaze more intense and darker than it was the night before, like something in him has shifted. There’s a depth to his look, a quiet mindfulness that wasn’t exactly there before, the previous night when they were finally all brave and playful.  

She tries to see what’s there, in his eyes, but before she can, he hands her the sunscreen bottle. “Your turn,” he says. 

An hour under the sun and Noah’s freckles begin to appear more prominently across the bridge of his nose, like a constellation made of stars. He seems unaware of how they dot his face, of the beauty he carries with himself, as natural and unassuming as the rest of him. 

Eventually, she pulls herself away from staring at him and buries her attention in a book, propped on her forearms, body stretched out on the towel. Noah takes a nap before shifting to lie on his side and starts kissing her shoulder. He inquiries about the book she’s reading. The Remains of the Day. Noah mentions he’s read something from Ishiguro before—Never Let Me Go, perhaps? He pretends to read the chapter she’s focused on, but his lips and fingers have other plans, distracting her with light touches, making her laugh and squirm when he starts tickling her. 

The book eventually ends in Noah’s hands. He starts reading the novel, for real, and lets her explore the tattoos on his chest, stomach and arms, answering distractedly every question she has about them. 

She rests for a while on the towel, gazing at the sky with her hands flat on her stomach. After a while, she gets up and walks toward the water.

The sun is beginning its slow descent, melting into the horizon, bleeding orange and pink across the sky. The beach is nearly empty except for the two of them and some tourists in the distance.

The waves lap gently at the shore as she steps into the cool, damp sand. The wind carries the scent of salt and something floral. The beauty of the moments feels surreal, and she wonders if she’s dreaming again. 

Time slips away as she stands in the sand, waves crashing around her, her hair tousled by the wind. She’s unaware of the male gaze observing her from the towel. But an instant or two later, male arms are wrapped around her middle, and Noah’s cheek presses against hers.

She nuzzles into him, placing her hands over his and letting his movements guide her, swaying. She’s never felt so… at ease.

“It’s hard to believe in anything that’s not this moment, right now,” he murmurs into her hair.

She cradles his cheek and turns to face him. Their eyes meet, and there’s no pretense, no walls. 

“Is this what I’ve been missing?” She asks, searching the depths of his brown eyes.

Yes, it is, but instead of answering her question, he says, “I should have said something earlier.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she replies, a tender hand cupping his sun-kissed cheek face. “I should’ve understood earlier. The way you used to look at me… It was too dreamy to be real.”

He presses a kiss to the palm of her hand, his voice low. “I wish I could tell you…”

“Tell me what?”

“Everything. What this means to me. How I feel. How I’ve felt for years and how awful I feel for not having had the guts to—”

She places a finger on his lips.

“We’re here,” she presses her body against his for emphasis. “Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter. What this means to you… it means the same to me, Noah. I dreamt of you. You were my every fantasy. For years.”

“Tell me your dreams,” he demands. “I’ll make them come true. Each and every single one.”

“You’re already doing that.”

Noah’s fingers brush against the damp skin of her back. The world around them hums with distant laughter and soft music, but here, in their little pocket of space, time feels suspended. His touch wanders. He shifts closer because he needs her.

Unintentionally, right before he’s about to kiss her, his fingers catch on one of the strings of her bikini top. A simple tug. The tension in the knot gives way too easily. He is barely aware of what he’s done before the fabric slackens. 

A breath. A pause.

She stiffens, just slightly. Her shoulders tense, her body alert in the way someone instinctively braces for exposure. Noah realizes what he’s done in the same instant she glances around, eyes darting to the people farther up the shore. They’re too far to see, too lost in their own moments to notice. But still, she hesitates.

However, she doesn’t reach to fix it.

She doesn’t step away. 

Instead, she turns her gaze back to him, eyes gleaming. 

He understands.

His breath catches as he lifts his hands again, this time deliberate. His fingers find the second tie at the nape of her neck. The knot comes undone easily beneath his touch, the damp fabric slipping free. The bikini top flutters down, catching the breeze before landing softly at their feet in the sand.

Before she can move, Noah closes the space between them. His arms come around her, hands on her waist, pulling her against him, their bodies flush. His warmth envelops her, shielding her. Protecting her.

His thumb traces over the faint scar just beneath her breast. He lingers there, reverent, as if trying to read her past through it. 

“That’s a story for another day,” she whispers.

His fingers flex against her skin. “I’ll take care of you.” 

A soft exhale leaves her lips before she rises onto her toes, hands threading around his neck. Their mouths meet—slow at first, tasting the promise. Then deeper. Needier.

He doesn’t think before his arms tighten around her waist. He lifts her and he carries her forward, her legs around his hips, his feet greeted by water. Waves curl around them, rising to their waists as he holds her close.

She frees his hair from the bun. 

“I’m not sure you love the bun or hate it,” Noah muses. 

She grins against his wet lips. “I love how ridiculously hot it makes you look,” she admits, “but the urge to run my fingers through your hair is impossible to resist.” 

He hums in satisfaction and kisses her with an open mouth, hungrier and greedier.

There’s only the press of their bodies, the rhythm of the tide, the quiet gasp of her breath against his mouth.

And the night, vast and endless, coming to swallow them whole.

Steam curls into the air as water cascades down their bodies. The salt is long gone from their skin, for they’ve been in the shower longer than they can track. 

They move around each other in the small space, washing and rinsing, touching slowly, learning. 

He washes her hair, fingers massaging her scalp, nails scratching lightly in a way that makes her eyes flutter shut. She does the same for him, but when she stands in front of him, on her tiptoes to reach, he nibbles at her wrist, making her giggle—so much that he has to catch her before she slips. 

 She’s happy, thinking about how her hair will smell like his now. 

They stand under the stream of water for a while, hugging, saying nothing. 

When she shivers, Noah shuts off the water and hands her a towel before grabbing one for himself. 

Later, after they’ve brushed their hair and dried off, still wrapped in towels, she catches sight of him at the sink, securing a pink butterfly clip into his damp hair, pinning a few strands back from his forehead. 

From where she’s perched on the bed, with a foot propped up to apply moisturizes, she bites her lip to keep from grinning.

“That’s adorable.”

Noah glances at her in the mirror, then snorts when he realizes what she’s talking about. “Lily gave it to me when she was eight. Said it made me look cooler.” His mouth quirks. “She lied, obviously.”

“No,” she says, setting her foot back down on the carpet and flipping her hair over one shoulder. “It’s very fashionable. You should wear it all the time.”

“Instead of the bun? I don’t believe you,” he teases back. 

She sticks her tongue out and walks toward her suitcase, which she’d brought over from her room after they got back from the beach. He watches her, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. Water still beads along her collarbones. 

She grabs her underwear, then pauses, letting it dangle from her fingers. When she turns back, the fact that Noah was watching her makes her heart jump. 

The way he stands there, with only a towel slung around his waist and damp hair messy except for that ridiculous pink clip doesn’t help the heat curling low in her stomach. 

She considers the fabric between her fingers, then tilts her head. 

“Do you want to get dirty again?”

His eyes darken, a slow, lazy smirk playing at his lips. “Do I want to get dirty again?” he repeats. “I think you know the answer to that, love.”

 Her smile could stop wars. 

She drops the underwear back into the suitcase and walks up to him, fingers grasping the hem of his towel, brushing against the skin just below his navel. 

“The clip stays on,” she says. 

Noah exhales a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow as he lets her guide him toward the bed. 

“On one condition,” he says, catching her wrist just before she can tug the towel away and reveal his growing erection. 

She lifts a brow.     

“The clip stays on,” he murmurs, voice dipping lower, “as long as you do.” 

They hold each other’s gaze. The space between them disappears, years of hesitation dissolving into certainty. 

Her smile widens, so big it makes her cheeks ache. 

He just sealed a deal that will have him wearing that hair clip forever. 

He knows. 

She tugs the towel from his waist and rises onto her toes, pressing her lips to his. 

And then, there is no space left between them and no more years of sleep. 

💕 Happy Valentine's Day to all of you, my loves:

@rumoured-whispers | @iconic-taurus | @bloody-spades | @bluestdai | @theanarchymuse95

@somebodyels3 | @blade-dressed-in-red | @todressabladeupinred | @turn-your-life-into-folklore | @thecoyotescry

@iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning | @tosoundlessdarkistare | @missduffsblog | @flowery-mess | @chey-h

@tf-is-aesthetic | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare | @fadingangelwisp | @respectfulrebel | @amelia-acero

@theasowle | @xxkatsatwatwafflexx | @lunabuna991 | @ferduttini | @lacy1986

@bad-idea2021

I'm sorry if I forgot someone!

[akajustmerry]

Can you tell us more about queercoding in relation to robes? I'm so intrigued by that, especially when I've heard so many people say that Dale's queerness got sidelined this season

okay I'm gonna address the last thing you mention in this ask first ie Dale's queerness being "sidelined" because I've also seen this being said and from the bottom of my heart I want to say that if you (not you anon) watched season 3 of the Newsreader and thought that that Dale's queerness was sidelined, you do not have the reading comprehension skills or maturity necessary to appreciate the show. So just quickly wrt to the sideline claim:

Dale's bisexuality and his fear of it being discovered drives the great majority of his decisions - from how he dresses to who he spends time with to what he spends money on. So much so he has a literal mental breakdown over the constant pressure. Something that's a character's main motivation is by definition not sidelined.

I find what people usually mean when they say this, especially about bisexual characters but generally about LGB characters is that they view queer representation as almost exclusively queer intimacy. It should go without saying but being queer is about who you want to be intimate with as much as it is about actually being intimate. Dale doesn't experience a lot of queer intimacy and that is by design because of his fears of being discovered. Again the fact he isn't intimate with men is driven by his understanding of his queerness.

Finally, I really need Sam Reid fans from the Iwtv fandom to understand that Dale is the secondary protagonist of the Newsreader. Helen is the protagonist. And more generally, this is an ensemble show. If Dale feels off to the side it's because he is not the main character and not the focus of the show. At best he's the second main character behind Helen. This show is actually about Helen.

Okay that rant is done, onto the robe stuff:

Forgive me, I can't credit exactly where this was first discussed, historically, (I believe maybe in the documentary The Celluloid Closet but if anyone has a better reference lmk), but elaborate robes/dressing gowns have often been used in queer coding. This is in part because fancy robes on men signify significant disposable income via being a bachelor and having no wife or kids. They're luxury items.

This coding through costume goes as far back as Sam's uncle in Bewitched who was very queer coded and often wore elaborate dressing gowns. There's even a joke in The Nanny where Fran isn't surprised people think Max is gay and she lists off his bachelor status, grooming habits and robes. More recently, you can see this kind of coding through robes in costume design in Ripley where it's made a point that Tom takes and wears Dickey's robes, and in Queer 2024. This kind of design choice is even in Interview With The Vampire. Lestat and Louis both wear very fancy robes throughout the series (Lestat's far more opulent ofc), literally the morning after they first have sex there's that shot of Lestat seeing Louis out the door wearing a very snazzy dressing gown.

I think there's also a gendered element too in that dressing gowns/robes are seen as items of clothing a traditionally masculine man would not wear. This is also why male villains wearing dress robes is a trope because it's kind of a way to code deviancy by way of male femininity which has often had crossover with coding queerness. Not the most sophisticated or good faith example, I know, but the most recent fast and furious movie has a whole sequence where Jason Mamoa (bad guy) has a pamper session surrounded by dead bodies while he paints his nails and wears a purple fluffy robe. The very old homophobic signification of using a robe to indicate male femininity, therefore queerness and therefore deviancy is so clear in that movie that I was kinda shocked to see it in one made so recently.

Of course I'm not saying that Dale wearing a robe is homophobic. It's not, but it does align with a very rich history of using snazzy dressing gowns to signify being a bachelor, being wealthy and being queer. All things Dale is grappling with in season 3 and I really enjoyed it as a detail, as you can see. Thanks for asking 🥰

[petew21-blog]

Ted Lasso: The better coach

Nate hated how Roy carried himself around Richmond. He thought that people would respect him after Ted offered him the assistant coach position. And yet people still treated him the same way as when he was equipment manager before. They didn’t notice him, listen to him. He felt so overlooked.

And on top of that Roy got offered the position as a coach for AFC Richmond. Why would Ted do that to Nate? Does he not appreciate him?

As he stood on the field he envied Roy his life. The way everyone respected him, looked up to him. He looked amazing and he even managed to go out with Keeley. Nate shouted at two players, which they shrugged off by laughing at him. He clenched his teeth. “Fuckers. They would never do that to Roy. Fucker has it much easier.”

In a sudden moment of feeling uneasy, Nate closed his eyes and suddenly felt everything shift. He felt warm water run all over his body. He opened his eyes. He wasn’t on the field anymore. He was in the Richmond showers. How the hell did he get there? He turned around but he was alone there. He couldn’t say what it was, but something was definitely off.

He looked down. What the hell? Instead of his overweight body, there was a muscular and very hairy torso instead. And definitely not his. He looked at his arms, which were now also hairy, but absolutely not the same he was used to see every day. Then he looked down. He recognized that dick from the lockers. That’s Roy’s dick.

Still wet and naked, he left the shower. He got close to the nearest mirror. There he was. His reflection confirmed it. He looked like Roy now. “What the…” he didn’t even finish the sentence, because his new deep and very familiar voice shocked him. He touched his throat. “How is this possible?” He placed his new large rough hand on his hairy  large torso and scratched himself. “Well, this is not bad.”

As he started inspecting his lower parts the door swung open. His body stormed in with an angry look. He sees his body in front of the mirror, exploring. “What. The. Fuck?! You WANKER! What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

Nate turns to face his face scared of what will follow.

Roy:”You THIEVING WANKER. YOU STEAL MY BODY AND THE FIRST THING YOU DO IS VIOLATE ME IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR?!”

Nate:”Roy, I..”

Roy:”Don’t you ROY ME, DICKHEAD! FUCK. I AM YOU. I AM A LOSER NOW. “

Nate couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that this was happening. Roy saw that and swung his fist. Roy almost felt over, but Nate was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. “Damn, my body is weak.”

Roy:”That’s all you’re gonna say, you fucker?!?”

Nate:”I have to say it’s hilarious to see you like this, but I don’t know how this happened either.”

Roy looked up at his old naked body towering above him. “Then how did it happen, IDIOT?!”

Nate smiled: ”I am not sure, but hitting your face won’t help the situation.”

The door opened again. Ted entered with a smile:”Oh hey, there you are Nate. We are waiting for you in the office. Why are you on the floor?”

Roy looked at Nate and back at Ted:”I… slipped.”

Ted:”Right. Ok, hurry so we can finish the plans. By the way, Roy, not to be creepy, but nice dick.”

Nate laughed. He stood there above his old body in this massive hairy muscular god-like body and someone actually noticed him. He felt the surge of confidence.

Roy got up and whispered to Nate: “Wait for me here, I’ll be back. We have to sort this out”¨

Nate watched as he left and the room got quiet again. Finally some time for himself.

He approached the mirror again. He inspected his beard, his cheek bones, his new pointy nose, his thick eyebrows. “Perfect face, perfect body.” Nate smiled. His palms traced the edges of his hairy torso. “This guy is a gorilla,” he looked down at his pubic hair “gorilla everywhere” he noticed as his new quite honorable member was getting bigger. He turned to the side admiring the ridges of his abs. He pushed his fingers through the carpet of hair covering them. He felt the power. The dominance.

There was a knock at the door that interrupted his self-admiration. He stood still naked in the locker room. The door opened. Keeley, his girlfriend, stood there with visible confusion. “Are you posing in the mirror?”

Nate:”Yeah. I like what I see. You don’t?”

Keeley:”Why are you acting so weird?”

Nate:”Better question would be, why are we not already fucking right now?”

There was a moment of silence, but Keeley was struck by Roy’s confidence. She threw herself over him. They were passionately making out. Keeley throwing away her panties making her naked under her short dress. Nate kiss her neck and grabbed her below her waist. Her legs locked behind his back as his new large dick got quickly hard. He pressed her against the mirror. He made his way inside of her and started pounding her.

Keeley was moaning in pleasure and grabbing Roy’s head. Nate couldn’t believe that he was fucking Keeley right now, completely naked in Roy’s body. As he was increasing the speed of his thrusts. He looked at Keeley’s face full of pleasure with her eyes closed. And next to her in the reflection of the mirror he saw his body standing in the doorway, silent and with a shocked expression. Nate smiled, but didn’t stop.

After finishing inside of her, Keeley left the room, satisfied.

Nate finally grabbed the towel on the bench. He felt amazing. He felt so dominant.

He left the room with only the towel around his waist and went to the office. Ted sat there behind the computer. “Hey, Roy. Someone is pretty confident today. Walking around in just a towel”

Nate felt really confident, but Roy was threatening his new life, he had to get rid of him. And he knew exactly how to do that. “Nate is the one who leaked the info to the press”

Ted:”WHAT?!”

Nate:”I heard him talking on the phone. Thought you should know that”

He left the room with a smile knowing Ted wouldn’t just let it go.

The following days were crazy. Roy spiraled in the mess that Nate left him in. He left Richmond and took position in West Ham under the lead of Rupert Mannion.

Nate on the other hand couldn’t be happier. He became a coach. Became a dominant, respected hot male. Nate was finally happy.

Inbox request:

Ted Lasso: Could you maybe do a story where Nate is so jealous of Roy Kent that he swaps their bodies? Nate loving being so handsome and masculine, as well as loving how hairy he is. Most of all though, Nate loving the respect and authority he now has as Roy, as well as being together with Roy’s girlfriend.

I'm not sure if I got the story quite right. I don't watch the show, sorry :/ hope you like it

[wickedsick]

WITCH WATCH wins "god I hope they stick the landing, or this is gonna get really weird"

This series has always been straddling a weird line between "Nico and Morihito love each other" and "Nico is a child now". As we seemingly start to wrap up the child arc, and the feelings return, Shinohara-sensei needs to do a good job not making it creepy.

Kagurabachi wins "Images that go hard"

Iori's dilemma is interesting to me, and I hope she does get to escape the torment nexus.

I also appreciate the explanation of whatever the hell Hiruhiko's doing, and how he beat Sengoku.

Spy X Family wins "new ensemble cast"

These new kids don't immediately grip me the same way Becky and Damian did, except for Connie. Connie is funny.

SAKAMOTO DAYS wins "Oh you got one of them traumas"

This is genuinely a really compelling backstory for Shin. Mister Ando is a very engaging character, and we now fully know why Shin believes himself to be irredeemable.

Star of Beethoven wins "freak unleashed"

Yaso's backstory did get to me here, but once again the moment Beethoven got to talk he stole the show. He looks genuinely menacing in every panel and it's so funny that he's the deuteragonist.

Embers wins "best new dynamics"

This chapter got several genuine laughs out of me. Takami, Haitani, and Yukizuki are all fun and flashy characters, and I like how they're all a bit stupid.

RuriDragon wins ":("

This is kinda sad, but it also makes a bit of sense. I do hope there's some kind of reconciliation here, though.

Desscaras wins the Desscaras Award for Excellence in Desscaras

She's genuinely hilarious, but she manages to not be annoying in her narcissism because of the context we're afforded from last chapter

Ultimate Exorcist Kiyoshi wins "look at them go!"

This is an excellent way to give these two a powerup. It keeps their shape language and makes excellent use of Jack Joe's design, and making them fight Yoraku is another great choice. Like I always say, Usui has the aesthetics down pat.

Blue Box wins "Chinatsu-dorable"

This chapter is just cuteness after cuteness after cuteness. Chibi-natsu is especially cute.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 23 - Get your sh*t together, boy!

Summary: Katsuki lands in Y/N’s (Khm, I mean Izuku’s) sacred garden. The plants tremble, Izuku trembles and the world trembles with it.

He also gets a surprise visit; so Izuku trembles once again, like an underweight chihuahua in the wind as he stands in front of…

… You thought I’m gonna tell you? Haha, go and read the chapter.

You fool.

Warnings: Swear words, Y/N gets a little nosebleed, but “in a good way”. Hihi oh and also, someone has a bit too much to drink. Please, drink responsibly.

Warning number two: spoilers from the last anime season - the rest of the story is fictional - if it sounds similar to the actual ending of the manga, it’s a coincidence. Don’t kill me. Thank you. Also, please do not discuss the actual my hero academia ending/ war ending in the comments.

First Chapter Master list PotatoSupport

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The meteor lands.

“You fucking son of a bitch!” Katsuki - explosions still coming out of his palms - barges toward the terrified Izuku. If this wouldn’t be such a serious situation you would laugh at Katsuki in his fancy ass suit acting like a child having a tantrum but the amount of hatred, or to rather say, utter disappointment coming from his eyes makes you take a few steps back and let the boys sort it out themselves; you being too close to the fire (pun intended) would only make Izuku more aggravated which would only escalate the fight further.

“Kacchan, calm down and let me…” Izuku tries to reason but he gets smacked in the face, hard.

“Dude!” You try to yell as Deku’s fragile back hits the (thankfully) soft grass but Katsuki ignores you and keeps hitting the poor broccoli boy. He takes a few hits in with his eyes closed, probably hoping the blond calms down after getting his anger out but it doesn’t seem to work. “BAKUGO FUCKING KATSUKI!” Izuku uses your favorite way to reprimand him against his best friend and surprisingly, the tactic works perfectly; Katsuki stops and stares at the green head with eyes the size of saucers. After a few seconds of awkward silence he looks at his own hand with utter confusion. “Yeah, you just pummeled me into the ground. I would prefer to have a conversation, not to go back ten years and fight for no reason. We are past that.”

Damn. That was hot… you mean… that was a good way to reason. That piercing stare Izuku gave Katsuki was also extremely sexy… you mean… uhm…

“I don’t care about your stupid ass excuses! You ruined everything! Everything!” Katsuki yells back but finally stands up, taking a few steps back in the process. You take a deep breath. You are stressed as hell but you also know Katsuki wouldn’t inflict too much pain, even though you must say that statement wavered as you watched the blond smack the shit out of the poor man who can’t even use his powers properly right now.

“I did what I had to do to be able to heal without having constant pressure on me! You guys told me to do what’s best for me and I did!” Izuku yells and stands up; you can’t help but notice how his hands are shaking. You really want to hold them until they are steady again, but this is not your fight.

“You lied to me, you selfish fucking prick!”

“I did not lie! I couldn’t tell you what I’m about to do because I know you enough to know you wouldn’t have let me go through with it! The one being selfish is you! Your fucking obsession with taking the number one spot from me is stronger than your love towards me! That’s what’s fucking selfish!”

Izuku is right but that doesn’t mean Katsuki appreciates the tone; he’s shaking and his palms start to spark up, a few falling sparks hitting one of your plants; you watch it in slow motion as a few of the leaves become splattered with dark brown.

“I’ll fucking…”

“Oi, my baby!” You yell as you run towards the poor plant; the leaf is getting darker and darker as it slowly burns away. If a stare could kill, Katsuki would be dead by now. “Hurt by babies ever again and I’ll chop your dick off with a pair of dull scissors, young man!”

First, there is silence. A really awkward one, from both sides. Then Katsuki starts laughing maniacally for a few seconds then bursts into tears as his knees hit the grass.

“What the fuck…” Katsuki mutters as he hides his eyes with both of his arms. “What the fuck is happening, I don’t know what to do, I can’t…”

“Oh, Kacchan.” Izuku is right by his best friend’s side like he didn’t just try to kill him a few minutes ago. That’s real friendship to ya’. “We will get through this. I promise.”

By the time Eijirou sprints into the garden (he came in through the main entrance like a normal person) his eyes are met with two bawling, half drunk idiots cuddling on the couch because apparently they both needed a drink after all the drama. One drink became two in a matter of minutes then Izuku brought out a bottle of vodka from somewhere. Yes, this all happened in 30 minutes. Maybe 40.

“I don’t know.” You look up at the confused redhead who’s still panting from sprinting too hard. “Katsuki smacked him in the face a few times then there were tears and… then this.”

“Sweets let Kacchan pummel me to the ground but yelled at him when he singed one of her plants.” Izuku adds; they are both about to stop crying, finally.

“Hey, the plants can’t defend themselves, you can.” You retort with a proud smile. No regrets.

“That’s a fair point, you are a true hero, Sweet Pea.”

“Was that sarcasm, Izu-Izu?” You give your boyfriend a stern look.

“I had too much to drink, the sarcasm came out.”

“I thought you are an emotional drunk?” Eijirou adds, utterly entertained.

“I used up all my emotions in the past few hours, so sarcasm it is.” Deku adds with a straight face then starts laughing for no reason at all.

“What’s so funny, shithead?” Katsuki adds, still sniffling.

“We are so pathetic.” Izuku answers. “But I like it. It makes us humans. Crying, yelling, fighting, drinking for no reason at all, making mistakes we wouldn’t do on a normal day… I like it. I like being a mere, stupid human.”

“It’s not bad.” Katsuki slurs with a smile on his face. You sigh.

“Eijirou, why don’t we leave these two and have some cider in the garden? We are clearly not needed.”

There is a weird feeling of comradely in the way Eijirou smiles back at you; it’s fond and knowing, a little bit worried but also excited to be able to spend some alone time with the newest addition to the family.

“Sure!”

~•🥦•~

“…I would like to announce my temporary retirement from the hero business.”

Toshinori is speechless.

He can’t really say he is surprised; his boy Izuku could never accept a single compliment when he had felt like he had not earned it properly. Hence him not being able to bask in the light of being the number one right now makes so much sense.

But then here’s the other side; the side where All Might, the number one hero of Japan left the country in his hands, asked him to step up in his place when he looses his powers, and while Toshi understands he’s also, technically speaking, incapable of doing anything right now, Toshinori can’t help but be a little bit disappointed that his boy decided to break the public’s heart, put in seeds of doubt into everyone’s mind by stepping aside in such a crucial moment, letting the promise for All Might be swept away, under the rug, where no one can see it.

“I need to call Izuku, oh, my poor baby!” Inko is about to jump off the sofa but Toshinori pulls her back into a seating position.

“Don’t. Please.” Inko’s tears are unstoppable; she’s worried and confused and wants nothing but to be with her boy, but… “He’s in good hands and he’s an adult. As much as it might hurt you, the last thing young Izuku needs right now is nagging parents.”

“Are you mad at him?” Inko asks and Toshinori sighs; sometimes he forgets that his love doesn’t understand the world the same way he and his boy does. She might have been around heroes in the last few years, but she’s a mere civilian. Heroes have a certain depth to them that can only be found in people who play Russian roulette with their lives on a daily basis.

But that’s okay, don’t get him wrong! It is exactly what he needs. Peace and quiet with someone who makes him forget about all the bad things happening in the world. He wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s just… there are a few situations, around 3 or 4 every year, when he and his new love won’t be able to agree.

“I’m not mad. But I thought he’s better than this. He’s been nothing but stubborn when it came to the hero life, even when it ended up giving him trouble and I’m just a little bit sad that he decided to let go of this annoying trait of his right when stubbornness would have been the key to the right solution.”

Inko blinks a few times, clearly trying her best to understand Toshinori’s words. Toshi appreciates it, a lot.

“He should have talked to his friends about this.” Inko stares at Katsuki’s disheveled figure in the background. Her heart breaks from seeing his second “son” looking so sad and terrified. “He should have talked this out with you. I know we can’t hold his hand all the time but this is what parents are for. This is what mentors are for. People lost their symbol of hope and they’ve seen their symbol of victory being defeated, all in one go…” Inko points at Katsuki.

A light bulb switches in Toshinori’s brain.

“That’s it!” Toshi yells, or rather squeals. He gives her a soft, apologetic smile. Oh, his love DOES understand. Oh my, Toshinori is so happy about this revelation. “Mentor! He needs his mentor! You are a genius!!!” Toshinori pulls Inko close, his fingertips stroking Inko’s soft little face. He leaves a massive, wet kiss on the woman’s lips then runs into his bedroom to get his phone to make a quick call. This is it. This is the solution. This man will be able to put Izuku together without making him feel like he’s being treated like a weak baby.

It only occurred to him after the phone call was done that Inko and him… haven’t actually had their first kiss yet as they are both too awkward to start their romantic journey, even though they both now they want the other.

“… oh shit.” Toshinori runs out of his bedroom just to see Inko sitting on the floor with her whole face red as a tomato, smoke coming out of her ears as she shakes with… terror? Excitement? Both?!

Oh, well. - Toshinori smiles to himself. He can’t help but feel extremely giddy because his love is the cutest creature in the whole wide world.

He’ll need to thank his stepson later, when the drama is over. But first, Toshinori needs to make sure he does as much as he can, secretly in the background, to help young Midoriya to find the right path. Toshi sits down next to the fuming Inko, rests his chin on the top her head, his heart making a somersault in his chest as Inko hides her face in his neck. Her cheeks are really hot. Then he makes another call… to America.

~•🥦•~

Needless to say, Izuku wakes up… with a headache. By the non-sexual moaning coming from your old room, he’s not the only one suffering. He goes back to sleep for another few hours. Understandable.

At the end of the night, the day turned out really well; you had a lovely conversation with Eijirou where you talked about your relationships, worries, future plans and all that jazz while the two menaces had their own pity-party in the living room. After a while you two went in and put your respective partners in bed; there was no point in trying to get Bakugou home at the crack own dawn; the four of you are close enough to share your own space for a day or two with the other.

Once you are ready to start your day and get out of the comfy bed, there is a sweet, alluring scent in the air; for a second you think you are still dreaming, as there is no one else in this household who’s capable to make a proper dish - sorry, Izu-Izu! - then you remember you have two, more than capable guests sleeping over; there is also another telltale sign of the person making the sweet treats… the yelling.

“Why the fuck to I need to make Taiyaki in the shit ass of dawn, old man?!”

“More moving and less talking, the food won’t make itself!”

“Who the hell is that.” You mumble into Izuku’s plumpy pecks, but your boyfriend barely even registers your words; he grumbles a few times, hides his head under the pillow and …

“5 more hours…”

With that said, you leave your bed after a big sigh to check on the commotion. Izuku had a stressful week and he probably hasn’t slept at all so you let him rest for a little bit more.

“Kisses.” Izuku grumbles as you open your bedroom door; you can’t help but look at him with fondness and love.

“Sure.”

You can’t help it. You are incapable to say no to this man.

You crawl back into the bed, completely ignoring the drama in your own house as you give your boyfriend a deep, wet kiss, morning breath be damned. Izuku smiles into the kiss, his gaze full of mischief, then pulls you on top of him; you end up straddling the green haired hero who’s busy looking at you like you are the prettiest star on the sky, his hands stroking your sides.

“I thought you want to sleep for longer.” You mutter with a disgustingly lovesick face; it’s really hard to be mad at him for what he had done when he finally looks so happy and calm.

“Life is too short to not spend every second with you.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“I hope you will say the same, even after a decade.” You snuggle closer, your whole body touching with his. Izuku only pulls you closer.

“I’ll say the same when I’m 75, old and wrinkly. If I make it to that age. I never wanted to live a long life but since I’ve met you… I want to live until I’m 100. Then we can die together, hand in hand.”

“What if I die early?”

“Then I come after you.”

You can barely hold the tears back; in some way, it’s a silly conversation; no one knows when they die, no one knows if it’s possible to die with someone in a natural way, but the thought is so beautiful, so pure you can’t help but tear up a little bit.

“Stop making me fall in love with you over and over again. Every time I think it’s not possible to love you more, you say something or do something that makes me feel like I’m a teen having their first crush.” You leave a single kiss on Izuku’s cheek. “I really want to stay here, but I need to check up on the boys. Also, there is a random old man in the house. Or at least that’s what Katsuki yelled just a second ago.” You grin at the green head, who grins right back.

“Hmm, exciting. Let’s investigate then!”

“Put on a shirt. This sight is only for me and me only. Or at least until Calvin Klein puts you on a fucking billboard again.” You sigh dramatically.

“Hmm. Maybe I can ask them to put a sheer fabric shirt on me. Then they won’t see every detail.” Izuku contemplates. “Hmm, that kind of shirt looks really hot with a nipple piercing…”

His words are met with utter silence. Then blood drops down from your nose.

“Uhm… I guess you really liked that idea.” Izuku deadpans.

“No comment.”

~•🥦•~

“Okay, I’m going to see what the ruckus is about.” You scramble out of Izuku’s lap with a red face. Izuku takes a few deep breaths, probably doing his best to not devour you while his friends and the “random old man” are just outside his door. Honestly, you would think the sexual tension settles after a few occasions of eating that “cake” but hell, it’s just as bad in your case as it was in the beginning. There is always something new to try, or at least Izuku thinks so. You shouldn’t be surprised that Izuku wants to learn everything about sex, the same way he needs to learn everything about others and about the world. His hunger for knowledge and for you is insatiable. This situation has both.

You take a deep breath and open up the door; you stole one of Izuku’s hoodies as all your stuff is still in your old room.

“I’m ready Sweets. Let’s go!” Izuku says excitedly. “I wonder who came over to say hi!”

The smile on Izuku’s face falters as he takes a good look at the guest. It’s a tiny old man with an unpleased frown in his tiny face.

“Abort mission, abort mission!” Izuku mumbles with his eyes a size of saucers as he slowly starts walking backwards; the old man sighs and JUMPS ON THE CEILING, then bounces right into Izuku’s neck who screeches like a wild animal. Kirishima puts his hand on your middle and pulls you towards him, just to be sure you don’t get harmed in the “vicious fight”.

“You are the worst, most problematic student I’ve ever had and I taught Toshinori!” The old man yells while he attacks Izuku’s sleepy head. “How dare you retire at your age?! I fought a war in the age of 70! I need to use a cane to walk, you ungrateful son of a bitch! I didn’t play gamble with my life, for you to retire before even reaching your prime!!!!”

“Okay, Gran Torino, sir, why don’t we eat some Taiyaki before it gets cold?” Kirishima smiles pleasantly at the old man like he’s not trying to tear out every single strand of hair from Izuku’s scalp as they speak.

“Oh, I forgot.” The old man, Gran Torino, jumps off Izuku’s shoulder and makes his way to the table like nothing had happened. You just follow Eijirou to the table, too shocked to even think about what’s happening around you.

The food looks delicious as always and it also tastes like heaven; it’s really hard to enjoy it though, as the old man can not stop calling Izuku random names with every single bite he takes. Katsuki looks at him like he’s trying to decipher the old man’s mumbling, probably to understand what made the old man so mad, but by the guilty look on Izuku’s face, he knows the answer already.

“You said you will go as far as to change the faith of a person whose future was already decided.” The old man mumbles, more clearly this time.

“And I did, sir.” Izuku mumbles back, avoiding eye contact with his old mentor.

“You were told you are too weak for this power yet you broke every single one of your bones until you’ve learned how to use it.” Gran Torino starts up again. There is a sudden tension in the air, far worse than it was before; Katsuki and Eijirou forgets to breathe, your hands start to shake under the table, the penthouse is silent, so fucking silent you can hear the fly outside in the garden, flapping its wings, right in front of the glass door.

Izuku does not answer this one; he just looks down to his lap, his eyes full of tears, lips wobbling as he tries to keep it together.

“When your best friend died on the battlefield… He almost lost his heart, and was also told he might never be a hero again.”

The tears start to stream. Eijirou joins. Katsuki’s hands are also starting to shake. Gran Torino ignores all of this.

“Do you want to know what that boy said when I asked how is he not exhausted from trying so hard?”

“No…” Izuku shakes his head, utterly devastated.

“He said Izuku would sweat blood and tears to be able to save more people, he would challenge anything and everything if it means he can be a hero for longer and he doesn’t want to be left behind.”

Katsuki’s facade shatters. He’s just as shaken up as Izuku is.

“I still haven’t… caught up to you. Not for real.” Katsuki’s voice is wobbly and weak as he stares at the empty plate in front of him.

“Kacchan…”

“When Toshinori had lost his power for good, was he looking at the tv screen in the shelter during the battle?”

“No…”

“Indeed. He tried to help in any way possible.”

The silence hurts at this point. You want to scream into the void.

“So tell me, son…. What are you doing with your life?”

“Fuck…” Katsuki scoffs, his smile full of respect towards the small, old man.

“Fuck.” Izuku just stares into his lap, tears dripping down on his cheeks but judging by his face, he just had a massive revelation.

“Melissa. I need to call Melissa! Oh my god, maybe with her help, I come back sooner and save my spot and then…”

“Toshinori already did that, you big moron, what you need to do is to get your head out of your fucking ass and apologize to your friends and family for being a disappointment.”

“That was way too harsh, sir.” Mama Eijirou tries to save the conversation but the old man is having none of it.

“Put on a shirt then try to talk to me again, you meathead.”

Katsuki GIGGLES.

“Not the time, Kat.” You try to reprimand him, but a little chuckle escapes your throat.

You two look at each other and…

“Don’t you dare…” Gran Torino tries to stop the inevitable but it’s for naught; you two start laughing, “ruining” the mood. The old man sighs.

“I can’t believe the top ten is full of monkeys. I wonder how is our country still in one piece.”

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Izuku mumbles and the whole room gets silent once again.

“Haven’t you heard the wise, old man? The country is still in one piece. Yes, you fucked up but it’s not the end of the world.” Katsuki says calmly. “I don’t need your fucking apology, by the way. Get your fucking spot back and we will forgive you.”

“Talk for yourself, blondie.” Gran Torino grumbles. “But yeah, the apology can wait. Melissa wants to talk about her plans with you so go and get your phone. You, pretty boy… fishies. More fishies. Chop-chop. Meathead, help him. New face, get me something strong. I deserve a treat.”

“Is my food not enough of a treat for you?!” Katsuki grumbles with his hand on his waist, utterly offended. The sight is already funny enough, but the blond is wearing an All Might Themed apron so needless to say, everyone giggles, at least a bit.

“Cute outfit. Can’t believe blowing up buildings and villains is your day job. Could have fooled me with the whole housewife look.” Gran Torino teases and for your surprise, Katsuki doesn’t show off his murdering skills on the “fragile” old man.

“Says the senile, wobbly old man who still kicks ass like there’s no tomorrow.” Katsuki grins. “Put the bitch on speaker, I want to hear everything.”

“Bitch?!” You yelp, but Izuku only laughs at that.

“She doesn’t mind the nickname.”

“Kinky.” Kirishima can’t even finish the cheeky wink by the time Gran Torino smacks him in the face with his whole body.

There is blood on the carpet. Again.

“It’s not broken! I hardened it just on time!”

“Like a fucking care, you deserved that.”

“Meanie-beanie.”

“Jesus, get a room.” Gran Torino shoves both of them into the kitchen. You are surprised that he knows this slang at his age but you decide against voicing your feelings because you value your life… and your nose.

Izuku still looks guilty and sad but there is a tired smile on his face now. You are so glad his old mentor came over to talk to him. You have a feeling that no one else would have been able to talk sense into his hard little head right now as kindness clearly didn’t even penetrate that thick skull of his.

“When shit goes down, smack him with a hammer.” You nod to yourself, accidentally saying the whole sentence out loud. Izuku gulps. “In the game I’m playing, I mean!”

“Sweets…?”

“Please, just forget I said that. I beg you.” You look at your boyfriend pleadingly. Izuku just sighs.

“Please don’t actually smack me with a hammer. I hate that feeling. I would rather be smacked in the face by a whole building.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“What is your relationship status again?” Gran Torino asks, utterly confused.

“Same as mine and Eijirous.” Katsuki laughs, clearly knowing he’s about to confuse the poor old man even more.

“…just get that phone.” The old man sighs, clearly too tired for this shenanigan.

Izuku runs into the bedroom like a good boy.

You can’t help but take a really deep breath; this friend group is getting more manic but somehow, you still manage to keep up with them, because at the end of the day… There is no family without a little bit of drama here and there.

… to be continued!

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Potato ramble:

- Jeeeeeeez this chapter was so long! I hope you enjoyed it!

- If you miss cheeky Deku… the next chapter will have some “food” for you! Maybe too much food… sorry in advance.

- You see, I had a hard time deciding if Deku making such a mistake is OOC or not but then I remembered how he went all vigilante before so I was like “yeah, he probably thinks he’s doing the right thing”.

- Thank you for the anon who asked about Toshinori’s side of the story! I hope you enjoy his POV! 🩷 thank you for sending me such a lovely message!

- What are we thinking about Deku’s photoshoot idea? And what about his piercing idea? What if I say I have a fan art ready about him in that attire? *hides*

- Send me your thoughts, guys! I’m always happy to hear from you and I hear anything I really like I usually put it in the next chapter so go one, fire those fingers and tap tap tap!! :P 💜 see you next week! (I hope)

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